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I'dlili.s-hrd  In-  I)  A.  l',on-uiisU.in     rrinicl  oii.X  ,1.  Sop' 182V: 


SERMONS 


THE  REV.  JAMES  SAURTN, 

LAT£    FASTOR    OF    THE    FRENCH    CHURCH    AT   THE    HAOCE. 


ifrom  the  iFratcft, 

BY    THE 

REV.  ROBT  ROBINSON,  REV.  HENRY  HUNTER,  D.D.; 

ANU 

REV.  JOSEPH  SUTCLIFFE,  A.M. 


A   JXBVr  EDZTZOXr,    VrXTH    ADDZTIOITAI.    szmxxoxTS : 

REVISED    AND  CORRECTED 

BY  THE  REV.  SAM?^  BURDER,  A.M. 

Late  of  Clare  Hall,  Cambridge ;  Lecturer  of  the  United  Parishes  of  Christ  Churchy 
J^ewgate  Street,  and  St.  Leonard,  Foster  Lane,  London. 

varnn  a  likeness  of  the  author,  and  a  general  index. 


PRIMTED  FROM  THE  LAST  LOJVDOJ^  EDITIOJ^. 


PZIZNCETON,  N.  J. 
PRINTED  AND  PUBLISHED,  BY  D.  A.  BORRENSTEIN  ; 

FOR    SALE    BY 

G.  &  C.  CARVILL,   JOHN  P.  HAVEN,  NEW  YORK;    A.  FINLEY.  E.  LITTELL, 
PHILADELrniA  ;   and  RICHARDSON  &  LORD,  BOSTON. 

1827. 


^/erT  ^^  iV^^^eJ^^^^r^-^^^. 


PREFACES 

TO  THE  LAST  ENGLISH  EDITION. 


Translations  of  works  written  in  foreign  languages  possess  a  valufi 
beyond  the  subjects  discussed  in  them  :  in  this  respect,  the  congeniality  of 
sentiment  which  pervades,  may  assimilate  them  to  our  own  productions. 
But  they  are  particularly  useful  to  convince  us,  that  mental  cultivation 
and  energy  are  not  confined  to  any  country,  but  are  the  gifts  of  God,  im- 
partially bestowed  upon  nations  widely  separated  as  to  situation.  Nor  are 
these  circumstances  without  their  special  influence,  since  we  find  the  works 
of  learned  men  characterized  by  peculiarities,  which  strongly  distinguish 
them  from  each  other.  The  transfusion  of  these  into  the  languages  of 
other  countries,  gives  them  a  circulation  which  contributes  equally  to  the 
instruction  and  pleasure  of  mankind  in  general. 

Of  this  advantage  the  Sermons  of  M.  Saurin  are  pre-eminently  de- 
serving. Nor  has  it  been  conferred  on  them  in  vain.  They  have  been 
most  favourably  received  in  this  country,  as  the  sale  of  several  Editions 
demonstrates.  As  many  of  them  as  have  made  eight  volumes,  have,  for 
some  time,  been  before  the  public.  The  first  live  were  translated  by  the 
Rev.  R.  Robinson.  The  sixth  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  H.  Huxteu  ;  and  the 
last  two  by  the  Rev.  J.  Sutcliffe. 

In  the  present  Edition  they  are  compressed  into  Six  Volumes,  the  last 
of  which  contains  three  additional  Sermons,  now  first  printed  in  English  ; 
one  on  Regeneration,  translated  by  the  Rev.  J.  Sutcliffe  ;  and  two  others 
by  M.  A.  BuRDER.  Of  the  manner  in  which  they  are  rendered,  the  near 
relationship  of  the  translator  forbids  me  to  speak,  otherwise  than  to  ex- 
press a  confident  hope,  that  they  will  not  be  found  unworthy  of  being  as- 
sociated with  those  which  precede  them. 


iv  PREFACE  TO  THE  LAST  ENGLISH  EDITION. 

-,   .  V  ^     X^  .  .  \  \-  *>>%  •  ^  -  '  ^^ 

Thts  Ediliofl  has  .been  careiully  corrected  by  the  Rev.  J.  Sutcliffe, 

previously  to  the  work  beijqg-put-to  the  press,  through  w^hich  it  has  been 
my  province  to  guide  and  correct  it.  To  those  who  value  the  great  doc- 
trincs^gf  C|irist(anity^  these  volumes  cannot  but  prove  highly  acceptable  : 
nor  can  they  fail  of  making  a  due  impression  on  the  mind,  by  the  for- 
cible and  eloquent  manner  in  which  they  exhibit  truth  and  holiness. 


SAMUEL  BURDER. 


Brixlable  Lodge.  Mdytlale, 
Jan.  1,  1824. 


MEMOIRS 


mttotmntion  in  Jftnntt; 


THE    LIFE    OF    THE    REV.   JAMES    SAURIN. 


T-  HE  celebrated  Mr.  Saurin,  author  of  the 
following;  sermons,  was  a  French  refugee,  who, 
with  thousands  of  his  countrymen,  took  shelter 
in  Holland  from  the  persecutions  of  France. 
The  lives,  and  even  the  sermons,  of  the  refu- 
gees lire  so  closely  connected  with  the  history  of 
the  rieformation  in  France,  that,  we  presume, 
a  short  sketch  of  the  state  of  reliijion  in  that 
kingdom  till  t'le  banishment  of  the  Protestants 
by  Lewis  XIV.  will  not  be  disagreeable  to 
some  of  the  younger  part  of  our  readers. 

Gaul,  which  is  now  called  France,  in  the 
tim'>  of  Jesus  Christ,  was  a  province  of  the  Ro- 
man empire,  and  some  of  the  apostles  planted 
Christianity  in  it  in  the  first  centuries,  while 
Christianity  continued  a  rational  religion,  it 
spread  and  supported  itself  without  the  help, 
an!  against  the  persecutions,  of  the  Roman 
■emperors.  Numbers  were  converted  from  pa- 
ganism, several  Christian  soc  eties  were  form- 
e  1,  and  many  eminent  m^n,  having  spent  their 
lives  in  preaching  and  writing  for  the  advance- 
ment of  the  gospel,  sealed  their  doctrine  with 
their  blood. 

In  the  fifth  century  Clovis  T.,  a  pagan  king 
of  Franc°,  fell  in  love  with  Clotilda,  a  Chris- 
tian princess  of  the  house  of  Burgundy,  who 
ai:r9el  to  many  him  only  on  condition  ofhis 
becoming  a  <^hri«tian,  to  which  he  consented. 
[A.  I).  491.]  The  king,  however,  delayed  the 
performance  of  this  condition  till  five  years 
after  hi?  marriage;  when,  being  engaged  in 
a  desperate  battle,  and  having  reason  to  fear 
the  total  defeat  of  his  army,  he  lifted  up  his 
eyes  to  h°aven,  and  put  up  this  prayer,  Goi  of 
Qitf.fn  ClnlUda  !  Grant  me  the  rictorj/,  and  I 
vow  to  bf  baptised,  and  thfnc (forth  to  ivorship 
no  other  God  but  thee!  He  obtained  the  victo- 
ry, anl  at  hi=  return,  was  baptized  at  llheims 
[Dec.  25.  496.]  His  sister,  and  more  than  three 
thousand  of  his  subjec-.ts  followed  his  exam- 
ple, and  Christianity  became  the  professed  re- 
ligion of  Franc:?, 

Conversion  implies  the  cool  exercise  of  rea- 
son, and  whenever  passion  takes  the  place,  and 
does  the  oifice  of  reason,  conversion  is  nothing 
but  a  name.  Baptism  did  not  was!i  away  the 
sins  of  Clovis  ;  before  it  ha  was  vile,  after  it 
he  was  infamous,  [)rictising  all  kinds  of  treach- 
ery and  cruelty.  The  court,  the  armv.  and  the 
common  people,  who  were  pagan  when  the 
king  was  pagan,  and  Christian  when  he  was 
Christian,  continued  the  same  in  their  morals 
after  their  conversion  as  before.  When  the 
Christian  church,  therefire,  opened  her  doors, 
and  delivered  up  her  keys  to  these  new  cou- 

B 


verts,  she  gained  nothing  in  comparison  of  what 

sh€  lost.  She  increased  the  number,  the  rich- 
es, the  pomp,  and  the  power,  of  her  famdy  : 
but  she  resigned  the  exerci=e  of  reason,  the  suf- 
ficiency of  scripture,  the  purity  of  worship,  tho 
grand  simpl  city  of  innocence,  truth,  and  vir- 
tue, and  became  a  creature  of  the  state.  A 
virgin  before  ;  she  became  a  prostitute  now. 

Such  Christians,  in  a  long  succes'^ion,  con- 
verted C  iristianity  into  something  worse  than 
paganism.  They  elevated  the  Christian  church 
into  a  temporal  kingdom,  and  they  degraded 
temporal  kingdoms  into  fi^fs  of  the  church. 
They  founded  dominion  in  grace,  and  they  ex- 
plained grace  to  be  a  love  of  dominion.  And 
by  these  means  they  completed  that  general 
apostacy,  known  by  the  name  of  Popery^  which 
St.  Paul  had  tbretold,  1  Tim.  iv.  1.  and  which 
rendered  the  reformation  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury essential  to  the  interests  of  all  mankind. 

The  state  of  religion  at  that  time  [A  U.  1.515.] 
was  truly  deplorable.  Kcclesiastical  gorern- 
ment,  instead  of  that  evangelical  simplicity,  and 
fraternal  freedom,  whicii  .lesus  Christ  and  his 
apostles  had  taught,  was  become  a  spiritual  do- 
mination under  the  form  of  a  temporal  empire. 
A'l  innumerable  multitude  of  dignities,  title?, 
rights,  honors,  privileges,and  pre-eminences  be- 
longed to  it,  and  were  all  dependent  on  a  sove- 
reign priest,  who,  being  an  absolute  monarch, 
required  every  thought  to  be  in  subjection  to 
him.  The  chief  ministers  of  religion  were  ac- 
tually become  temporal  princes,  and  the  high- 
priest,  being  absolute  sovereign  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical state,  had  his  court  and  liis  council,  hi« 
ambassadors  to  negociate,  and  his  armies  to 
murder  his  flock.  The  clergy  had  acquired 
immense  wealth,  and,  as  their  chief  study  wa« 
either  to  collect  and  to  augment  their  revenues, 
or  to  prevent  the  alienation  of  their  estates, 
they  had  constituted  niunberless  spiritual  cor- 
porations, with  powers,  rights,  statutes,  privi- 
leges, and  olRcers.  The  functions  of  the  min- 
istry were  generally  neglected,  and,  of  conse- 
quence, gross  ignorance  prevailed.  All  ranks 
of  men  were  extremely  tlepraved  in  their  mo- 
rals, and  the  Po[)e's  penitentiary  had  published 
the  price  of  every  crime,  as  it  was  rated  in  tho 
tax-book  of  the  Uoman  chancery.  Marriages, 
which  reason  and  scripture  allov/ed,  the  Pope 
prohibited,  and,  for  money,  dispensed  with 
tho=e  which  both  forbade.  Church-benefices 
were  sold  to  children,  and  to  laymen,  who  then 
let  then  to  under  tenants,  none  of  whom  per- 
formed the  iluty,  for  whicli  the  profits  were 
paid ;  but  all  having  obtaiaod  Ihcrn  by  siuio'.-iy, 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE 


spent  their  lives  in  fleecing  the  flock  to  repay 
themselves.  Tlie  power  of  the  pontiff  was  so 
great  that  he  assumed,  anJ.  what  was  more  as- 
tonishing;, was  sn  i'cred  to  exercise  a  supremacy 
OV'T  many  Ifiiv^doms.  When  monarchs  g;rati- 
fi'vi  his  wrll,  he  ()ut  on  a  triple  crown,  ascnii- 
C'l  a  throne,  snfforeil  them  to  call  liim  Hoh- 
ne.i9.  an  I  to  kiss  his  feet.  When  they  disoblig- 
ed him.  he  suspended  all  re!ii;:;ious  worship  in 
their  dominions  ;  published  fdse  and  al)usive 
libels,  called  bulls,  which  operated  as  laws,  to 
injure  their  persons;  disjhars^ed  tlieir  subjects 
from  obedience  ;  and  jj^ave  their  crowns  to  any 
■who  would  usurp  them.  He  claimed  an  infal- 
libility of  knowledge,  and  an  omnipotence  of 
strength;  and  he  forbade  the  world  to  examine 
his  claim.  He  was  addressed  by  titles  of  blas- 
phemy, and,  thou<j:h  he  owned  no  juris  liction 
over  himself,  yet  he  affected  to  extend  his  au- 
thority over  heaven  and  bell,  as  well  as  over  a 
middle  place  called  purgatory,  of  all  which 
places,  he  said,  he  kept  the  keys.  This  irreg- 
iilar  church  polity  was  attended  Avith  quarrels, 
jntriiTues,  schisms,  and  wars. 

Rfligion  itself  was  made  to  consist  in  the 
performance  of  numerous  ceremonies,  of  Pagan, 
Jewish,  and  Monkish  extraction,  all  of  which 
niiglit  be  performed  without  either  faith  in 
CJod,  or  love  to  mankind.  The  church  ritual 
was  an  address,  not  to  the  reason,  but  to  the 
senses  of  men  :  music  stole  the  ear,  and  sooth- 
ed the  passions  ;  statues,  paintings,  vestments, 
and  various  ornaments,  beguiled  the  eye;  while 
the  pause  which  was  produced  by  that  suilden 
attack,  which  a  multitude  of  oVijects  made  on 
the  senses,  on  entering  a  spacious  decorated 
edificp,  was  enthusiastically  taken  for  devotion. 
Blind  obedience  was  first  allovvetl  by  courtesy, 
and  then  established  by  law.  Public  worship 
■Was  performed  in  an  unknown  tongue,  and  the 
sacrament  was  adored  as  the  body  and  blood 
of  Christ.  The  credit  of  the  ceremonial  pro- 
duced in  the  people  a  notion,  that  the  perform- 
ance of  it  was  the  practice  of  piety,  and  religion 
degenerated  into  gross  superstition.  Vice,  un- 
controlled by  reason  or  scripture,  retained  a 
Pagan  vigour,  and  committed  the  most  horrid 
crimes:  and  superstition  atoned  for  them,  by 
building  and  endowing  religious  houses,  and 
by  bestowing  donations  on  the  church.  Hu- 
man merit  was  introduced,  saints  were  invok- 
ed, and  the  perfections  of  God  were  distribu- 
ted by  canonization,  among  the  creatures  of 
the  Pope. 

_  The  pillars  that  supported  this  edifice  were 
jmmense  riches,  arising  by  impoH  from  the 
sins  of  mankind  ;  idle  distinctions  between  su- 
preme and  subor  hnate  adoration;  senseless  ax- 
ioms, called  the  divinity  of  the  schools;  preach- 
ments of  bufToonery  or  blasphemy,  or  both  ; 
cruel  casuistry,  consisting  of  a  body  of  danger- 
ous and  scandalous  morality;  false  miracles 
and  midnight  visions;  spurious  books  and  pal- 
try relics;  oaths,  dungeons,  inquisitions,  and 
crusades.     The   whole  was  denominat<^d  thf: 

nOLY,  CATHOLIC,    A.\D    APOSTOMC    CHPUCU, 

ond  laid  to  the  cliarge  of  Jesus  Christ, 

Loud  complaints  had  licen  made  of  those  ex- 
cesses, for  the  last  hundred  and  fifty  years,  to 
Uioic  whoso  busiiiGss  it  was  to  reiwria,  and,  as 


bad  as  they  ■were,  they  had  o^wned  the  necessi- 
ty of  reformation,  and  had  repeatedly  promised 
to  reform.  Several  councils  had  been  called 
for  the  purpose  of  relorming;  but  nothing  had 
been  done,  nor  could  any  thing  be  expected 
from  assemblies  of  mercenary  men,  who  were 
too  dee|)ly  interested  m  ilarkness  to  vole  for 
day.  They  were  inflexible  against  every  re- 
monstrance, and.  as  a  Jesuit  has  since  express- 
ed it,  Thti/  ivonld  not  txliii^iiish  one  taper, 
IhouirJi  it  uere  to  convert  a.l  the  Hugonots  in 
France. 

The  restorers  of  literature  reiterated  and 
reasoned  on  these  complaints  :  but  they  reason- 
ed to  the  wind.  The  church  champions  were 
hard  driven,  they  tried  every  art  to  support 
their  cause:  but  th'-y  could  not  get  rid  of  the 
attack  by  a  polite  duplicity  :  they  could  not 
intimidate  their  sensible  opponents  by  anathe- 
mas ;  they  would  not  dispute  the  matter  by 
scripture,  and  thev  could  not  defend  themselves 
by  any  other  method  ;  they  were  too  obstinate 
to  reform  themselves,  and  too  proud  to  be  re- 
formed by  their  inferiors.  At  length,  the  f)lam- 
tifTs  hud  aside  the  thoughts  ofapplying  to  them, 
anil,  having  found  out  the  liberty  uhcreuith 
Christ  had  made  them  free,  we\it  about  reform- 
ing themselves.  The  reformers  were  neither 
popes,  cardinals  nor  bishops,  but  they  were 
good  men,  who  aimed  to  promote  the  glory  of 
God,  and  the  jrood  of  mankind.  This  v  as  the 
state  of  the  church,  when  Francis  1.  ascended 
the  throne.  [151/).] 

^Vere  we  to  enter  into  a  minute  examination 
of  the  reformation  in  France,  we  would  own  a 
particular  intf  rposition  of  Provide^  ce  :  but  we 
would  also  take  the  liberty  to  observe,  that  a 
happy  conjunction  of  jarring  interests  rendered 
the  sixteenth  century  a  fit  era  for  reformation. 
Events  that  produced,  protected,  and  persecu- 
ted reformation,  proceeded  from  open  and  iiid- 
den,  great  and  little,  good  and  bad  causes.  The 
capacities  and  the  tempers,  the  virtues  and  the 
vices,  the  views  and  the  interests,  the  wives 
and  the  mistresses,  of  the  i)rinces  ofthose  times; 
the  abilities  and  dispositions  of  the  officers  of 
each  crown ;  the  powers  of  government,  and 
the  persons  wl.o  wrought  them  :  the  tempers 
and  geniuses  of  the  people  ;  all  these,  and  ma- 
ny more,  ■vvere  springs  of  action,  wliich,  in  their 
turns,  directed  the  great  events  that  -were  exhi- 
bited to  public  view.  But  our  limits  allow  no 
inquiries  of  this  kind. 

'i'he  reformation  which  began  in  Germany 
spread  itself  to  Geneva,  and  thence  into  France. 
The  French  hail  a  translation  of  the  Bible, 
which  had  iieen  made  by  Guiarsdes  Moulins. 
[In  l'22-l.]  It  had  been  revised,  corrected,  and 
printed  at  Paris, by  order  of  Charles  \'III  ,  and 
the  study  of  it  nov,-  began  to  prevail.  [1487.] 
The  reigning  king,  who  was  a  patmn  of 
learning,  encourageii  his  valet  de  chambre, 
Clement  Marot,  to  versify  some  of  J3avid's 
Psalms,  and  took  great  pleasure  in  singino- 
them,*  and  either  protected,  or  persecuted  the 


*■  His  majesty's  favourite  psalm,  whicii  he 
sang  when  he  went  a  hunting,  was  the  42d. 
The  queen  used  to  sing  the  6tii,  and  the  king'i 
mistress   th«    l^^Olh.      Marot  translated  fifty, 


REFORMATION  IN  FRANCE. 


XI 


reformation,  as  his  interest  seemed  to  him  to 
require.  Although  he  went  in  procession  to 
bnrn  the  first  martyrs  of  the  reformed  church, 
yet  in  the  same  year,  [1535]  he  sent  for  Me- 
lancthon  to  come  into  France  to  reconcile  reli- 
gion^ differences.  Although  he  persecuted  his 
own  protestant  suhjccts  with  infinite  inhuma- 
nity, yet  wlien  he  was  afraid  that  the  ruin  of 
the  German  prolestants  would  strengthen  the 
hands  of  the  em(ieror  Charles  V.  he  made  an 
alhance  with  the  protestant  princes  of  Germa- 
ny, and  he  allowed  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  his 
second  son,  to  ofler  them  the  Iree  exercise  of 
thpjr  religion  in  the  UuUeilom  of  Luxemburg. 
He  suffered  his  sister,  the  Queen  of  Navarre, 
to  protect  the  relormation  in  her  country  of 
Bearil,  and  even  saved  Geneva,  wlien  Charles 
Duke  of  Savoy  would  have  taken  it.  It  was 
no  uncommon  thing  in  that  age  for  princes  to 
trifle  thus  with  religion.  His  majesty's  first 
concern  was  to  be  a  king,  his  second  to  act  like 
a  rational  creature. 

The  reformation  greatly  increased  in  this 
reign.  The  pious  Queen  of  Navarre  made  her 
court  a  covert  Irom  evcy  storm,  supplied 
France  with  preachers,  and  the  exile*  at  Gene- 
va with  money.  Calvin,  who  had  fled  from 
his  rectory  in  France,  and  had  settled  at  Gene- 
va, [1531]  was  a  ciiief  instrument ;  he  slid  his 
catecliism,  and  other  books  into  Fratice.  [1541.] 
Some  of  the  bishops  were  inclined  to  the  refor- 
mation ;  but  secre'ly,  for  fear  of  the  Christians 
of  Rome.  The  relbrmation  was  called  Calvin- 
ism. The  people  were  named  Sacramentari- 
ans,  FAitiierans,  Calvinists  ;  and  n  ck-named 
Hugonots,  either  from  Hugon,  a  Hobgoblin, 
because,  to  avoid  persecution,  they  held  their 
assemblies  in  the  night ;  or  from  the  gate  of 
Hugon,  in  Tours,  where  they  used  to  meetj 
or  from  a  Swiss  word,  which  signifies  a 
league. 

Henry  II.,  who  succeeded  his  Father  Fran- 
cis, [l-')47]  was  a  weak,  and  a  wicked  prince. 
The  increase  of  his  authority  was  l/ie  law  and 
the  prophets  to  him.  He  violently  persecuted 
the  Calvinists  of  FVance  because  he  was  taught 
to  believe,  that  heresy  was  a  faction  repugnant 
to  authority  ;  and  he  made  an  alliance  with 
the  German  protestant?.  and  was  pleaed  with 
the  title  of  Pro/ec/or  of  the  Germanic  liberties, 
tliat  is,  protector  of  protestantism'  This  alli- 
ance he  made,  in  order  to  check  the  power  of 
Charles  V.  He  was  governed,  sometimes  by 
his  queen.  Catharine  de  Medicis,  niece  of  Pope 
Clement  Vil  ,  who,  it  is  saitl,  never  did  right 
except  she  did  it  by  mistake :  often  by  the 
constable  dc  Montiiiorenci,  whom,  contrary  to 
the  express  command  of  his  fatlier,  in  his  dying 
illness,  he  had  placed  at  the  head  of  adminis- 
tration :  chiefly  by  his  mistress,  Diana  of  Poi- 
tiers, who  hail  been  mistress  to  his  father,  and 
who  bore  an  implacable  hatred  to  the  protest- 

Bi'za  the  other  hundred,  Calvin  got  them  set 
to  music  by  the  best  musicians^  and  every  bo- 
dy sang  them  as  ballads  When  the  reformed 
churches  made  them  a  part  of  their  worship, 
the  papists  were  forbidden  to  sing  them  any 
more,  and  to  sing  a  psalm  was  a  sign  of  a  Lu- 
theran. 


ants :  and  always  by  some  of  his  favourites, 
whom  he  suffered  to  amass  immense  fortune! 
by  accusing  men  of  heresy.  The  reformation 
was  very  much  advanced  in  this  reign.  The 
gentry  promoted  the  acting  of  plays,  in  which 
the  comedians  exposed  the  lives  and  doctrines 
of  the  popish  clergy,  and  the  poignant  wit  and 
humour  of  the  comedians  afforded  infinite  ih>er- 
sion  to  the  people,  and  conciliated  them  to  the 
new  preachers.  Beza,  who  had  fled  to  Geneva, 
[1548jcame  backward  and  forward  into  P'rance, 
and  was  achiefpromoterol  the  work.  His  La- 
tin Testament,  which  he  first  published  in  thii 
reign,  [1556]  was  much  read,  greatly  admired, 
and  contributed  to  the  spread  of  the  cause. 
The  New  Testament  was  the  Goliah's  sword 
of  the  clerical  reformers,  there  vas  none  like  it. 
Francis  IF.  succeeded  his  lather  Henry.  [1559] 
He  was  only  in  the  sixteenth  year  of  his  age, 
extremely  weak  both  in  body  and  mind,  and 
therefore  incapable  of  governing  the  kingdom 
by  himself  In  this  reign  began  those  civil 
wars,  which  raged  in  France  for  almost  forty 
years.  They  have  been  charged  on  false  zeal 
lor  religion  :  but  this  charge  is  a  calumny,  for 
the  crown  of  France  was  the  prize  for  which 
the  generals  fought.  It  was  that  which  inspi- 
red them  with  hopes  and  fears,  productive  of 
devotions  or  persecutions,  as  either  of  them 
opened  access  to  the  throne.  The  interests  of 
religion,  indeed,  fell  in  with  these  views,  and 
so  the  parties  were  blended  together  in  war. 

The  family  of  Charles  the  Great,  which  had 
reigned  in  !<"' ranee  for  236  years,  either  became 
extinct,  or  was  deprived  of  its  inheritance,  at 
the  death  of  Lewis  the  Lazy.  [987.]  Him, 
Hugii  Capet  had  succeeded,  and  had  transmit- 
ted the  crown  to  his  own  jioslerity,  which,  in 
this  reign,  subsisted  in  two  principal  branches, 
in  that  of  V'alois,  which  was  in  possession  of 
the  throne,  and  in  that  of  Bourbon,  the  next 
heir  to  the.  throne  of  France,  and  then  in  pos- 
session of  Beam.  1  he  latter  had  been  driven 
out  of  the  kingdom  of  Navarre:  but  they  re- 
tained the  title,  and  were  sometimes  at  Beam, 
and  sometimes  at  the  court  of  France.  The 
house  of  Guise,  Dukes  ot  Lorrain,  a  very  rich 
and  powerful  family,  to  whose  niece,  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots,  the  young  king  was  married, 
pretended  to  make  out  their  descent  from 
Ciiarles  the  great,  and  were  competitors,  when 
the  times  served,  with  the  reigning  family  for 
the  throne,  and,  at  other  times,  with  the  Bour- 
bon fimi'y,  for  the  apparent  heirship  to  it. 
With  these  views  they  directed  their  family 
alliances,  perfected  t!  emselves  in  military  skill, 
and  intrigued  at  court  lor  the  administration  of 
affairs.  These  three  houses  formed  three  yar- 
ties.  The  house  of  Guise  (the  chiefs  of  which 
were  five  brethren  at  this  time)  headed  one  ; 
the  king  of  Na\arre,  the  princes  of  the  blood, 
and  the  great  officers  of  the  cruwn,  the  other; 
the  Queen  mother,  who  managed  the  interest! 
of  the  reigning  family,  extrcised  her  policy  on 
both,  to  keep  either  from  becoming  too  strong  ; 
while  the  leeble  child  on  the  throne  was  alter- 
nately a  prey  to  them  all. 

Protestantism  had  obtained  numerous  con- 
verts in  the  last  reign.  Several  princes  of  lli» 
blood,  some  chief  otiieers  of  the  orowi>,  and 


XII 


MEMOIRS  or  THE 


many  principal  families,  had  embraced  it,  and 
its  partisans  were  so  numerous,  both  in  Paris 
and  in  all  the  provinces,  that  each  leader  of 
the  court  parties  deliberated  on  the  policy  of 
strengthening  his  jiarty,  by  openly  espousing- 
Ihe  reformation,  by  endeavouring-  to  free  the 
protestants  from  penal  laws,  and  hy  obtaining' 
a  free  toleration  lor  them.  At  length,  the 
house  of  Bourbon  declared  for  Protestantism. 
and,of  consequence,  the  Gu-ses  were  inspired 
■with  zeal  for  the  support  of  the  ancient  reli- 
gion, and  took  the  Roman  Cathol.cs  under 
their  protection.  The  king  of  Navarre,  and 
the  prince  of  Conde,  were  the  heads  of  the 
first :  I'Ut  the  Duke  of  Guise  had  the  address 
to  obtain  the  chief  mamigemeiit  of  affairs,  and 
the  protestants  were  persecuted  with  insatiable 
fury  all  the  time  of  this  reign- 
Had  religion  tlien  no  share  in  thesecommo- 
tio?is.^  Certainly  it  had,  with  many  of  the 
princes,  and  with  mnltitndes  of  the  soldiers: 
but  they  were  a  motley  mixture;  one  iought 
for  his  coronet,  another  for  his  land,  a  third 
for  liberty  of  conscience,  and  a  fourth  for  pay. 
Courage  was  a  joinlstock,  and  they  were  mu- 
tual sharers  of  gain  or  loss,  praise  or  blame. 
It  was  religion  to  secure  the  lives  and  proper- 
ties of  no!-ie  families,  and  thougli  the  common 
people  had  no  lordships,  yet  they  had  the  more 
valuable  rights  of  conscience,  and  for  them 
they  fought".  We  mistake,  if  we  imagine  that 
the  French  have  never  ufiderstcod  the  nature 
o!  civil  and  religious  liberty;  they  have  well 
uiulprsliiod  it,  though  they  have  not  !  een  able 
to  obtain  it.  Huuin  cuinxie  would  have  been 
as  exjiressive  a  motto  as  any  that  the  protest- 
anl  generals  could  have  borne. 

The  persecution  of  the  protestants  was  very 
severe  at  this  time.  Counsellor  Du  Bouru',  a 
geitleman  ■  f  enunent  quality,  and  great  merit, 
■n'as  burnt  lor  heresy,  and  the  court  was  inclin- 
ed, not  only  to  rid  France  of  protestantism, 
but  Scotland  also,  and  sent  La  Brosse  with 
three  thousand  men,  to  assist  the  queen  of  Scot- 
land in  that  pious  design.  Thiswas  frustrated 
by  the  intervention  of  queen  Elizabeth  oi  Eng- 
land. The  pei-secution  becoming  every  day 
more  intolerable,  and  the  knig  being  quite  in- 
sccessible  to  the  remonstrances  of  his  peojde, 
the  protestants  held  several  consultations,  and 
took  the  opinions  ot  their  ministers,  as  well  as 
those  of  their  noble  partisans,  on  the  question, 
whetlier  it  were  lawlul  to  take  up  arms  in 
their  own  defence,  and  to  make  Vv'ay  for  a  h-ee 
access  to  the  king  to  present  their  petitions? 
It  was  unanimously  resolved,  that  it  was  law- 
ful, and  it  was  agreed,  that  a  certain  number 
of  men  should  be  chosen,  who  should  go  on  a 
fixed  day  under  the  direction  of  Lewis  prince 
of  Conde,  present  their  petition  lo  the  king, 
and  seize  the  Duke  of  Guise,  and  the  cardinal 
cf  Lcrrain,  his  brother,  in  order  to  have  them 
tried  before  the  states.  This  affair  v.'as  discov- 
ered to  the  Duke  by  a  false  brother,  the  design 
was  defeated,  and  twelve  hundred  were  be- 
headed. Guise  pretended  to  have  suppressed 
a  rebellion  that  was  designed  to  end  in  the  de- 
throning of  the  king,  and  by  this  manreuvre, 
lie  procnre  1  the  general  lieutenancy  of  the 
kingdom,  and  thv  glorious  title  of  Cciisarator 


of  his  country.  He  pleased  the  puerile  kin* 
by  placing  a  few  gaudy  horse-guards  round  his 
palace,  and  he  infatuated  the  poor  child  to 
think  himself  and  his  kingdom  rich  and  hap- 
py, while  his  protestant  subjects  lay  bleeding 
through  all  his  realm. 

The  infiiiite  va\ue  of  an  able  statesman,  in 
such  important  crises  as  these,  might  here  be 
exem|>bfied  in  the  conduct  of  ■  icha'l  de 
Ij'llospital.  who  was  at  this  time  [156U]  pro- 
moled  to  flie  chancel-lordship:  but  our  limits 
will  not  allow  an  enlargement.  He  was  the 
mo't  consummate  polit.cian  that  France  ever 
employed.  He  had  the  wisdom  of  governing 
without  the  folly  of  discovering  it,  and  all  his 
actions  were  guided  by  that  cool  moderation 
wliich  always  aceomj'aines  a  superior  know- 
led:,'e  of  mankind.  Fie  was  a  concealed  protest- 
ant of  the  most  liberal  sentiments,  an  entire 
friend  to  religious  liberty,  and  it  was  his  wise 
management  that  saved  France.  It  was  his 
fixed  opinion,  that  fiike  tolkration  was- 
sound  policy.  We  must  not  wonder  that  rigid 
papists  deemed  him  an  atheist,  while  zealous, 
but  mistaking  protestants,  pictured  him  carry- 
ing a  torch  behind  him,  to  guide  others  but  not 
himself.  The  more  a  man  resembles  God,  the 
more  will  his  conduct  be  censured  by  igno- 
rance, partiality  and  pride  ! 

The  FJukeof  Guise,  in  order  to  please  and 
strengthen  his  party,  endeavoured  to  establish 
an  inquisition  in  France.  The  chancellor,  be- 
ing willing  to  parry  a  thrust  which  be  could 
not  entirely  avoid,  was  forced  to  agree  [Vlay 
1560]  to  a  severer  edict  than  he  could  have 
w  shed,  t  J  defeat  the  design.  By  this  edi^t, 
the  cognizance  o!  the  crime  of  heresy  was  taken 
from  the  secular  judges,  and  given  to  the  bish- 
ops alone.  The  Calvinists  complained  of  this, 
because  it  put  them  into  the  hands  of  their 
enemies,  and  although  their  Lordships  con- 
demned and  burnt  so  many  heretics,  that  their 
courts  were  justly  called  chambrts  ardtnles,* 
yet  the  zealous  catholics  thought  them  less  el- 
igible than  an  inquisition  after  the  manner  of 
Spain. 

Soon  after  the  making  of  this  edict,  [Aug, 
150O]  many  families  having  been  ruined  by 
it.  Admiral  Coligny  presented  a  petition  to  the 
king,  in  the  names  of  all  the  protestants  of 
France,  humbly  praying  that  they  might  be 
allowed  the  free  exercise  of  their  religion. 
The  king  referred  the  matter  to  the  parlia- 
ment, who  were  to  consult  about  it  w.th 
the  lords  of  the  council.  A  warm  debate  en- 
sued, and  the  catholics  carried  it  against  the 
protestants  by  three  voices.  It  was  resolved, 
that  people  shoukl  be  obliged,  either  to  con- 
form to  the  old  established  church,  or  to  quit 
the  kingdom,  with  permission  to  sell  their  es- 
tates. The  protestants  argued,  that  in  a  ]  oint 
of  such  importance,  it  would  be  unreascmable, 
on  account  of  three  voices,  to  inflame  all  France 
with  animosity  and  war :  that  the  method  of 
banishment  was  impossible  to  be  executed  ; 
and  that  the  obliging  of  those,  who  continued 
in  P'rance,  to  submit  to  the  Romish  religion, 
against  their   consciences,  was  an    absurd   at- 


*  JjUiiiiii;r  couii^ — lire  olhces. 


REFORMATION  IN  FRANCE. 


XJII 


tempt,  and  equal  to  an  impossibilit)'.  The 
chancellor,  and  the  protestant  Lords,  used  ev- 
ery effort  to  procure  a  toleration,  wnile  the 
catholic  party  urged  the  necessity  of  unifor- 
mity in  relii^ion.  At  leny^th  two  of  the  bish- 
ops owned  the  necessity  of  reforming,  pleaded 
sirenuou-ly  lor  moderate  mpa-^urHy,  and  propo- 
sed the  deciding  of  these  <ontroversies  in  an  as- 
seiibly  of  the  states,  assisted  hy  h  national 
council,  to  be  summoned  at  the  latter  end  of 
the  year.  To  this  proposal  the  assembly 
agreed. 

The  court  of  Rome  having  laid  it  dov^n  as  an 
indubitable  maxim  in  church  police,  that  an 
inquisition  w<is  the  only  sup[>ort  of  the  hierar- 
chy, and  th-eading  the  consequences  of  allow- 
ing a  nation  to  reform  itself,  was  alarmed  at 
this  intelligence,  and  instantly  sent  a  nuncio  in- 
to France.  His  instruction-  were  to  prevent, 
if  possible,  the  calbng  of  a  national  council, 
and  to  promise  the  rfafsemt'ling  of  the  general 
council  of  Trent.  The  protestants  had  been 
too  oflen  dupes  to  such  artifices  as  these,  and, 
being  tuUy  convinced  of  the  futility  of  general 
co.uncils,  they  refused  to  submit  to  the  coun- 
cil of  Trent  now  for  several  good  reasons.  The 
pope,  they  said,  who  assembled  the  council, 
was  to  be  judge  in  his  own  cause  :  the  coun- 
cil would  be  chiefly  composed  of  Italian  bish- 
ops, who  were  vassals  of  the  pi>|)P,  as  a  secular 
prince,  and  sworn  to  him  as  a  bishop  a)id  head 
of  the  church:  the  legates  would  pack  a  ma- 
jority, and  bribe  the  poor  bishops  to  vote  : 
each  article  would  be  first  settled  at  Home, 
and  then  proposed  by  the  legates  to  the  coun- 
cil :  the  Km|)eror,  by  advice  of  the  late  coun- 
cil of  Constance,  ha. I  given  a  sate  conduct  to 
John  Huss,  and  to  Jerome  of  Prague;  however, 
when  they  appeared  in  the  council,  and  propo- 
sed their  doubts,  the  council  condemned  them 
to  be  burnt.  The  piotestants  had  reason  on 
their  side,  when  they  rejected  this  method  of 
reforming,  for  the  art  of  procuring  a  majority 
of  votes  is  the  soul  of  this  system  of  church 
government  This  art  consists  in  the  ingenu- 
ity of  finding  out,  and  in  the  dexterity  of  ad- 
dressing each  man's  weak  sicie,  his  pride  or 
his  ignorance,  his  envy,  his  gravity,  or  his  ava- 
rice :  and  the  possessing  of  this  is  the  perfec- 
tion of  a  Legate  of  Rome. 

During  these  disputes,  the  king  died  without 
issue,  [Dec.  5,  1  >eO]  and  h;s  brother  Charles 
IX.  who  was  in  the  eleventh  year  of  his  age, 
succeeded  him.  [Dec.  13.]  The  states  met  at 
the  time  pro[>osed.  The  chancellor  opened 
the  session  by  an  unanswerable  speech  on  the 
ill  policy  of  persecution,  he  represented  the  mis- 
erics  of  the  protestants,  and  proposed  an  abate- 
ment of  their  sufferings,  till  their  complaints 
could  be  heard  in  a  national  council.  The 
Prince  ofConde  and  the  King  of  Navarre  were 
the  heads  of  the  protestant  party,  the  Guises 
were  the  heads  of  their  opponents,  and  the 
queen  mother,  Catharine  de  Aledicis,  who  had 
obtained  the  regency  till  the  king's  majority, 
and  who  began  to  dread  the  power  of  the  Gui- 
ses, leaned  to  the  protestants,  which  was  a 
grand  event  in  thair  favour.  After  repeated 
meetings,  and  var.ous  warm  debates,  it  was 
agreed,  as  one  side  would  not  submit  to  a  gene- 


ral council,  nor  the  other  to  a  national  assem- 
bly, that  a  conftrtnce  should  be  held  .it  Poissy, 
between  both  parties  [July  l.')6  1]  and  an  e.lict 
was  made,  thai  no  pcrso  is  should  molest  the 
prole-taiits,  t'lat  the  impri-o'ieil  should  be  re- 
leased, and  the  exdescalleil  home.  [Aug.  1,>G| .] 

The  conference  at  Pois.-y  was  held,  in  the 
presence  of  the  king,  the  princes  ol  the  blood, 
the  nobility,  cardinals,  prelates,  and  grandees 
of  both  parties.  On  the  popish  side,  six  cardi- 
nals, four  bishops,  and  several  tlignified  clergy- 
men, airl  on  the  protestant  aliout  twelve  of 
the  most  lamous  reformed  ministers,  mana- 
ged the  dispute.  Beza,  who  spoke  well, 
knew  the  world,  and  hail  a  ready  wit,  and  a 
deal  of  learning,  displayed  all  his  powers  in  fa- 
vour of  the  relorRiation.  The  papists  reason- 
ed where  they  could,  and  where  they  could  not 
thpy  railed.  The  conference  ended  [Sept.  29] 
where  must  public  disputes  have  ended,  that  is, 
where  they  b  gan  ;  lot  great  men  never  enter 
these  lists,  without  a  previous  determination 
not  to  submit  to  the  disgrace  of  a  public  de- 
feat. 

At  the  close  of  the  last  reiirn,  the  rum  of  pro- 
testantism seemetl  inevitable  :  but  now  the  re- 
formation turned  like  a  tide,  overspread  every 
place,  and  seemed  to  roll  away  all  opposition, 
and,  in  all  probability,  had  it  not  been  li.r  one 
sad  event,  it  would  now  have  subverted  pope- 
ry in  this  kingdom.  The  king  of  Navarre^ 
who  was  now  lieutenant  general  of  France, 
had  hitherto  been  a  zealous  pmtestant,  he  had 
taken  incredible  pains  to  su|)port  the  reforma- 
tion, and  had  assured  the  Danish  ambassador 
that,  in  a  year's  time,  he  would  cause  the  true 
gospel  to  be  preached  throughout  Fiance. 
The  Guises  caballed  with  the  pope  and  the 
king  of  Spain,  and  they  offered  to  invest  the 
king  of  iSavarre  with  the  kingdom  of  Sardi- 
nia, and  to  restore  to  him  that  part  of  the  kinc^- 
dom  of  Navarre,  which  lay  in  Spain,  on  condi- 
tion of  his  renouncing  protestantism.  The 
lure  was  tempting,  and  the  king  deserted,  and 
even  persecuted  the  piotestants.  Pro.videiice 
is  never  at  a  loss  for  means  to  effect  its  desio-nc 
The  queen  of  iNavarre,  daughter  of  the  last 
queen,  who  had  hitherto  preferred  a  dance  to 
a  sermon,  was  shocked  at  the  king's  conduct, 
and  instantly  became  a  zealous  iroteslant  her- 
self. She  met  with  some  unkind  treatment, 
but  nothing  could  shake  her  resolution  ;  Hud 
/,  said  she,  the  kingdoms  in  my  hand.  I  irnuld 
throw  them  into  the  sea,  rulhtr  than  defile  my 
conscunce  by  going  to  mass.  This  courageous 
profession  saved  her  a  deal  of  trouble  and  dis- 
pute ! 

The  protestants  began  nov/  to  appear  more 
publicly  than  before.  The  queen  of  Navarre 
caused  Beza  ojjenly  to  solemnize  a  marriage  in 
a  noble  larnily,  after  the  Geneva  manner. 
This,  which  was  consu^imated  near  the  court, 
emboldened  the  ministers,  and  they  preached 
at  the  countess  de  Senignan's,  guarded  by  tlie 
marshal's  provosts.  The  no!  iliiy  thought  that 
the  common  people  had  as  good  a  right  to  hear 
the  gospel  as  themselves,  and  caused  the  re- 
formed clergy  to  preach  without  the  walls  of 
Paris.  Their  auditors  v.-cre  thirty  or  forty 
thousand  pcorle,  divided  into  three  companies. 


XIV 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE 


the  women  in  the  middle  surrounded  by  men 
on  foot,  and  the  latter  by  men  on  horseback  ; 
and  during  the  sermon,  the  governor  of  Paris  . 
placed  *ol  liers  to  guard  the  avenue?,  and  to 
prevent  disturbances.  The  morlili/  of  this 
w^nrship  cannot  be  disputed,  lor  if  God  be 
worshipped  in  sjiirit  and  ui  trnth.  the  |  lace  is 
indiilerent.  The  expediency  of  it  may  be 
doubtr>d  :  "liut,  in  a  persecution  ot  forty  years, 
the  French  prolestants  had  learnt  that  their 
political  masters  did  not  consider  how  rational, 
but  how  formiLlable  they   were. 

The  Guisps,  and  their  associates,  being  quite 
dispirited,  retired  to  the  r  estates  and  the 
queen  rodent,  by  the  chancellor's  advice,  grant- 
ed an  el  ct  10  eimlile  the  protestants  to  preach 
in  all  pjirts  ot  the  k  ngdom,  excspt  in  Pa 'is. 
and  in  other  walled  cities.  The  parliaments 
of  France  had  then  the  power  of  refusing  to 
register  royal  edicts,  an.l  the  chancellor  had  oc^ 
casion  for  all  his  address,  to  prevail  over  tlie 
scruples  an  1  ill  humour  of  the  parliament  to 
procure  the  registering  ot  this.  He  begged 
leave  to  say,  that  the  question  before  them  was 
one  ol' those  which  had  its  difficulties,  on  what- 
ever side  it  was  viewed  ;  that  in  the  present 
ca«e  one  of  two  things  must  be  chosen,  ei- 
ther to  put  all  the  adherents  of  the  new  reli- 
gion to  the  sword  ;  or  to  banish  them  entirely, 
allowing  them  to  dispose  of  their  eflects  ;  that 
the  first  point  could  not  be  execut  d,  since 
that  parly  was  too  strong  both  in  leaders  and 
partisans;  and  though  it  could  be  dojie,  yet 
as  it  was  staining  the  king's  youth  with  the 
bloo  i  of  so  many  of  his  subjects,  perhaps  when 
he  came  of  age  he  would  demand  it  at  the 
hands  of  his  governors  ;  with  regard  to  the  se- 
cond point,  it  was  as  little  feasible,  and  could 
it  be  effected,  it  would  be  raising  as  many  des- 
perate enemies  as  exiles:  that  to  enforce  con- 
foiinity  against  conscience,  as  matters  stood 
now,  was  to  lead  the  people  to  atheism.  The 
edict  at  last  was  passed,  [Jan.  1562.]  but  the 
house  registered  it  with  this  clause,  inconsjd- 
irutiun  of  I  lie  present  Juncture  of  the  limes: 
but  not  approving  of  the  new  religion  in  any 
manner,  and  till  the  king  shall  otherwise  ap- 
point. So  hard  sat  toleration  on  the  minds  of 
papists. 

A  minority  was  a  period  favourable  to  the 
viev/s  of  the  Guises,  and  this  edict  was  a  hap- 
py occasion  of  a  pretence  for  commencing  hos- 
tilities. The  Duke,  instigated  by  his  mother, 
went  to  Vassi,  a  tov/n  adjacent  to  one  of  his 
lordships,  and,  some  of  his  retinue  picking  a 
quarrel  with  some  prolestants,  who  were 
hearing  a  sermon  in  a  barn,  ha  interested  him- 
self in  it,  wounJeti  two  hundred,  and  left  sixty 
dead  on  the  spot.  This  was  the  first  protest- 
ant  hlool  that  was  shed  in  civil  war.  [Mar. 
1,   1562.] 

The  news  of  this  afTair  flew  like  lightning, 
and,  while  the  Duke  v/as  marching  to  Paris 
with  a  thoii'and  horse,  the  city,  anil  the  pro- 
vinces rose  in  arms.  The  chancellor  was  ex- 
tremely alflicled  to  see  both  sides  preparing  for 
war.  and  endeavoured  to  dissuade  them  from 
it.  The  constable  told  him,  it  did  not  belong 
to  mm  of  the  long  robe,  to  give  their  judgment 
XDilk  relation  to  war.     To  which  he  answersd, 


that  though  he  did  not  bear  arms,  he  knew  when 
they  ought  to  be  used.  After  this,  they  excluded 
him  from  the  councils  of  war. 

The  queen-regent,  alarmed  at  the  Duke's 
approach  to  Pari^.  threw  hersdfii  to  the  hands 
of  the  Prot<-stiints.  and  ord(  re d  Conde  to  take 
up  arms.  [.Auu.  156-2]  War  began,  and  bar- 
barities and  i-rue!t:e^  were  praclistd  on  both 
sider.  The  Duke  of  Guise  was  assassinated, 
the  king  of  iSavarre  was  kilbd  at  a  sifge,  fif- 
ty thousand  prolestants  were  slain,  and.  alter 
a  year  had  been  spent  in  thes-e  contusions,  a 
peace  was  concluded.  [A.  D  1563.]  AH  that 
the  prolestants  obtained  was  an  edict  which 
excluded  the  exercise  of  their  religion  frora 
cilifs,  and  restrained  it  to  their  own  lamilies. 

Peace  did  not  continue  long,  lor  the  proles- 
tants, having  received  intelligence,  that  the 
Pope,  the  house  of  Ausir.a,  and  the  house  e>f 
Guise,  had  conspired  their  ruin,  and  fearing 
that  the  king,  and  the  court,  were  inclined  to 
crush  them,  as  their  rights  were  every  day  in- 
fringed by  new  edicts,  took  up  arms  asain  in 
their  own  defence.  [.A.  D.  1567.]  The  city 
of  Rochelle  declared  lor  them,  and  it  served 
them  for  an  asylum  lor  sixty  years.  They 
were  assisted  by  Queen  F.lizabflh  of  England, 
and  by  the  German  princes,  and  they  obtain- 
ed, at  the  conclusion  olthis  second  war,  [.A.  D« 
I56t>]  the  revocation  of  ail  penal  eilicis,  the 
exercise  of  their  religion  in  their  families,  and 
the  grant  of  six  cities  lor  their  security. 

The  1  ope.  the  king  oi  Spain,  and  the  Gui- 
ses, finding  that  they  could  not  (ire^'ail  while 
the  wise  chancellor  retained  his  ii.fluence, 
formed  a  cabal  against  him,  and  got  him  re- 
moved. [June,  1568.]  He  resigned  very  rea- 
dily, and  retired  to  a  country  seat,  where  he 
sp  nt  the  remainder  of  his  days.  A  strange 
confusion  followed  in  the  direction  of  affairs; 
one  edict  allowed  liberty,  another  forbade  it, 
and  it  w'as  plain  to  the  jirotestants  that  their 
situation  was  very  delicate  and  dangerous. 
The  articles  of  the  last  peace  bad  never  been 
performed,  and  the  papists  every  w  here  in'^ult- 
cd  their  liberties,  so  that  in  three  months  time, 
two  thousand  Hugonots  were  murdered,  and 
the  murderers  went  unpuii. shed.  War  broke 
out  again.  [\.  D.  1568.]  Queen  Elizabeth 
assisted  the  prolestants  with  money,  the  Count 
Palatine  helped  them  with  men,  the  Queen 
of  Na\arre  parted  with  herrings  and  j<  wels 
to  support  them,  and,  the  Prince  of  Conde 
being  slain,  she  declared  her  son,  prince  Hen- 
ry, the  head  and  protector  of  the  proK slant 
cause,  and  caused  medals  to  be  struck  with 
these  words:  a  safe  peace,  a  complete  victory,  a 
glorious  dnith.  Her  rnaje.-ty  did  every  thing 
in  her  |  ower  for  the  advancement  of  the  cause 
of  religious  liberty.aiul  she  used  tosay,lhal  lib- 
erty of  conscience  ought  to  be  preferred  befort 
honours,  digiiilus,  and  I fe  itsilf.  She  cai-sed 
the  Nt  wTeslament,  the  calcclni-m.  and  tlje  lit- 
urgy of  Geneva,lo  be  tiHii.-lated,and  printed  at 
ilochelle.  She  abolishcii  [lopery.  and  establish- 
ed protestantism  in  her  own  dimimons.  In  her 
leisure  hours,  she  expressed  her  zeal  by  work- 
in"  tapestries  with  her  ov/n  hands,  in  which 
she  represented  the  monuments  of  that  liberty, 
which  she  procured  by  shalang  off  the  yoke  of 


REFORMATION  IN  FRANCE. 


XV 


the  Pope.  One  suit  consisted  of  twelve  pieces. 
On  each  piece  was  represented  some  scrip- 
ture history  of  delirerance ;  Israel  coming- 
out  of  Ei^ypt,  Joseph's  release  from  prison,  or 
soniethnig-  of  the  like  kind.  On  the  lop  of 
each  piece  %vere  these  words,  uhcre  Ike  spi- 
rit is  fherf  is  librrli/,  and  in  Ihe  corriers  of 
each  were  broken  chains,  fetters,  and  gibliols. 
One  piece  represented  a  con<:;re2:ation  at  Mas^, 
and  a  fox,  in  a  iriar's  liabit,  olficiatin^  as  a 
priest,  ^rinninsf  horribly  and  saying;,  the  Lord 
be  with  i/nii.  The  pieces  wore  fashionable 
patterns,  and  dexterously  directed  the  needles 
of  the  ladies  to  help  forward  the  reformation. 

After  mmy  ne;;(itiations  a  peace  was  con- 
cludeil,  [1570]  and  the  free  exercise  of  religion 
was  allowed  in  all  but  walled  cities,  two  cities 
in  every  province  were  assigned  to  the  pro- 
testants ;  they  were  to  be  admitted  -into  all 
universities,  schools,  hospitals,  public  offices, 
royal,  seigniorial,  and  corporate,  and  to  render 
the  peace  ofeverlasting  durat  oti,  a  match  was 
proposed  between  Henry  of  Navarre,  and  the 
sister  of  King  '  harles.  These  articles  were  ac- 
cepted, the  match  was  agr°ed  to,  everv  man's 
sword  wa«  put  up  in  it^s  sheath,  and  ihe  queen 
of  Xavarre,  her  son.  King  Henry,  the  princes 
of  the  blood,  and  the  principal  proteslants,  went 
to  Pans  to  celebrate  the  marriage  [Aug.  15. 
1,57-'.]  A  few  days  after  the  marriage,  the  A  l- 
miral,  who  was  one  of  the  principal  protest- 
ant  leaders,  was  assa  sinated.  [Aug.  "JS  ]  This 
alarmed  the  king  of  Navarre,  and  the  prince  of 
Conde,  but  ths  king  and  his  mother  promisingto 
punish  thf  assassin,  th.iy  wcr^  quiet.  The  next 
Sunday.  [A:ig.  9,  "24]  being  Si.  Bartholomew's 
da}',  when  the  bells  rang  for  morning  prayers, 
the  Duke  of  Guise,  brother  of  the  last,  appear- 
ed with  a  great  number  of  soldiprs  and  cit  zens, 
and  began  to  murder  the  Hugonots;  the 
wretched  Charles  appeared  at  the  windows  of 
his  palace,  an  1  endeavoured  to  shoot  those  who 
fled,  crying  to  their  pursuers,  Ki/l  them,  kill 
Ikeni  The  massacre  continued  seven  days,  sev- 
en hundred  houses  were  pillaged;  five  thousand 
people  perished  in  Paris;  neither  age,  nor  sex, 
nor  even  women  with  child  were  spared;  one 
butcher  boasted  to  the  king  that  he  had  hewn 
down  a  hundred  and  fifty  in  one  nighf.  The 
rage  ran  from  Paris  to  the  provinces,  where 
twenty  five  thousand  more  were  cruelly  slain  ; 
the  queen  of  Navarre  was  poisoned  ;  and,  dui-- 
ing  the  mas-acre,  the  king  olfered  the  kin"  of 
Navarre,  and  the  young  prince  of  Coile,  son 
of  tne  lat=  prince,  if  they  would  not  if-nounce 
Hugonotism,  either  death,  mass,  or  bast  He  :  for 
he  said  he  would  not  have  one  left  to  reproach 
him.  This  bloo  ly  affair  does  not  lie  between 
Charles  IX.,  his  mother  Catharine  of  Medicis, 
and  the  Duke  of  Guise;  for  the  church  of 
Rome,  and  the  court  of  Spain,  by  exhibiting 
public  rejoirings  on  the  occasion,  have  adopted 
it  fur  their  own,  or,  at  least,  have  claimed  a 
share. 

Would  any  one  after  this  propose  passive  obe- 
dience and  nonresistance  to  French  protestanls.' 
Or  can  we  wonder,  that,  abhorring  a  church, 
who  offered  to  embrace  them  with  hands  reek- 
ing with  the  blood  of  their  brethren,  they  put 
on  their  armour  ajjain,  and  commenced  a  fourth 


civil  war.'  The  lale'massacre  raised  up  also 
another  party,  called  Politiciavs,  who  propo- 
sed to  banish  the  family  of  Guise  from  France, 
to  remove  the  queen  mother,  and  the  Italians, 
from  the  government,  and  fo  restore  peace  to 
the  nation.  This  faction  was  headed  by  Mont- 
morenci,  who  had  an  eye  to  the  crown.  Dur- 
ing these  troul'les,  the  king  died,  in  the  twen- 
ty-fifth year  of  his  age.  [1674.]  Charles  had 
a  lively  little  genius,  he  comj  osed  a  1  ook  on 
hunting,  and  valued  himself  on  his  skill  in  phy- 
siognomy. He  thouglit  courage  consisted  in 
swearing  and  taunting  at  his  courtiers  His 
diversions  were  hunting,  music,  women,  and 
wine.  His  court  was  a  common  sewer  of  lux- 
ury and  impiety,  and,  while  his  favourites  were 
fleecing  his  people,  he  employed  liimself  in  the 
making  of  rhymes.  The  part  which  he  acted 
in  the  Bartholoinean  tragedy,  the  worst  crime 
that  was  ever  perjietrated  in  any  Christian 
country,  will  mark  his  reign  with  infa  my,  to 
the  end  ot' time. 

Henry  HI    who  succeeded  his  brother  Charles, 
wa«  first  desDJsed,   and    then    hated,  by   all  his 
subjects.      He  was  so  proud  that    he    set   rails 
round  his   table,  and  ajtecte  I    the  pomp  of  an 
eastern  king:  and  so  mean  that  he  olten  walk- 
ed in  procession  with    a  be-garly  Irotlierhood, 
with  a  string  of  beads  in  his  hand,  and  a  whip 
at  his  girlie.      He   was  so  crelulous    that    he 
took  the  sacamsnl  with  the  Duke   of  Guise, 
and  with  the  cardinal  of  Dorrain,  his   brother; 
and  so  treacherous,  that    he  caused  the   a«as- 
smation  of  them  both.      He  boasted  ofbein-a 
chief  adviser  of  the  late  massacre,  and  the  pro- 
testants  abhorred  him  for  it.     The  papists  ha- 
ted   him    for    his    adherence  to  the   Hu'onot 
house    of  Bourbon,  and   for  the  edicts  which 
he  sometim?s  granted  in  favour  of  the  protest- 
atits.  though  his  only  aim  was   to    weaken  the 
Guises.     'J'he  ladies   held    him   in   execration 
(or  his   unnatural    practices:  and  the  duiche«s 
of  Montpensier  talked  of  clipping  his  hair,  and 
o.   making   him    a   monk.     His  heavy   taxes, 
which  were  consumed  by  his  favourites,  excit- 
ed   the  populace   against  him,  and,   while  his 
kingdom  was  covering  with  carnage  and  drench- 
ing in  blood,  he  was  training  lap-dogs  to  tum- 
ble, and  parrots  to  prate. 

In  this  reign  was  formed  the  famous  league, 
I  lo7b]  which  reduced  France  to  the  most  mise- 
rable condition  that  could  be.  The  chief  pro- 
moter of  it  was  the  duke  of  Guise  Thepre- 
tence  was  the  preservation  of  the  Catholic  reli- 
gion. The  chief  articles  were  three.  "  The  de- 
fence of  th°  Catholic  religion.  The  establish- 
ment ot  Henry  111.  on  the  throne.  The  main- 
taining of  the  liberty  of  the  kingdom,  and  the  as- 
sembling of  the  states."  Those  who  entered  iiw 
to  the  league  promised  to  obey  such  a  general  as 
should  be  chosen  for  the  defence  of  it,  and  the 
whole  was  confirmed  by  oath.  The  weak 
Henry  subscribed  it  at  first  in  hopes  ofsubdu- 
ing  the  Hugonots;  the  queen  mother,  the  Gui- 
ses, the  pope,  the  king  of  Spain,  many  of  the 
clerg}',  and  multitudes  of  the  people  became 
leaguers.  When  Henry  perceived  that  Guise 
was  aiming  by  this  league  to  dethrone  him, 
he  favoured  the  protestants,  and  they  obtained 
an  edict  tor  the  freo  exercise  of  their  religion  ; 


XVI 


MEMOIRS  or  THE 


[1576]  but  edicts  were  vain  tiling's  against  the 
power  of  the  league,  and  three  civil  wars  ra- 
ged in  this  rei2;ii. 

Guise's  preteiuleil  zeal  for  the  Romish  reli- 
gion allured  the  cler2:y,  and  France  was  filled 
with  seditious  hooks  and  sermotis.  The  preach- 
ers of  the  league  were  the  most  furious  of  ali 
sermon  monj^ers.  They  preached  up  the  ex- 
cellency of  the  established  church,  the  necessi- 
ty of  uniformity,  tlie  horror  of  Husconotism. 
the  merit  of  killin,?  the  tyrant  on  the  throne, 
(for  so  they  called  the  king)  the  genealogy  of 
the  house  of  Guise,  and  every  thing  else  that 
could  inflame  the  madness  of  party  ra^e.  It  is 
not  enougli  to  say  that  these  a'andoned  cler- 
gjmon  disgrac-'d  their  olfice  ;  truth  obliges  us 
to  add,  they  were  protected,  and  preferred  to 
dignities  in  the  church,  both  in  France  and 
S()a  n. 

The  nearerthe  Guisesapproachedtothecrown 
the  more  were  they  inflamed  at  the  sight  of  it. 
They  obli:j;ed  the  king  to  forbid  the  exercise  of 
the  protestant  religion.  They  endeavoured  to 
exclude  the  king  of  N.-varre,  who  was  now  the 
next  heir  to  tlie  throne,  from  the  succession. 
They  began  to  act  so  haughtily  that  Henry 
caused  the  Duke  and  the  cardinal  to  be  assas- 
sinated. [I5illl.]  The  next  year  he  himself  was 
assassinated  by  a  friar.  [1589.]  Religion  flou- 
rishes where  nothing  else  can  grow,  and  the 
reformation  spread  more  and  more  in  this  reign. 
The  exiles  at  Geneva  filled  France  with  a  new 
trimslation  of  the  Bible,  with  hooks,  letters, 
cateciiisms,  hymns,  and  preachers,  and  the 
people,  contrasting  the  religion  of  Christ  with 
the  religion  of  Home,  entertained  a  most  seri- 
ous aversion  for  the  latter. 

In  the  last  king  ended  the  family  of  Valois, 
and  the  next  heir  was  Henry  IV.  of  the  house 
of  Bourbon,  king  of  Navarre.  His  majesty 
had  been  educated  a  protestant,  and  had  been 
the  protector  of  the  party,  and  the  j)rote'tants 
had  reason  to  expect  much  from  him  on  his 
ascending  the  throne  of  France :  but  he  had 
many  difficulties  to  surmount,  for  could  the 
men  who  would  not  bear  a  Hugonot  subject, 
bear  a  Ilugonot  king.'  Some  of  the  old  fac- 
tion disputed  his  title,  and  all  insisted  on  a 
christian  king.  Henry  had  for  him,  on  the 
one  side,  almost  all  the  nobility,  the  whole 
court  of  the  late  king,  all  protestant  states,  and 
prirces,  and  the  old  Hugonot  troops;  on  the 
other,  he  had  against  him,  the  common  people, 
most  of  the  great  cities,  all  the  parliaments 
except  two,  the  greatest  part  of  tlie  clergy, 
the  pope,  the  king  ol  Spain,  and  most  catholic 
states.  Four  years  his  majesty  deliberated, 
negotiated,  and  fought,  but  could  not  gain 
Paris.  At  length,  the  league  set  up  a  king  of 
the  house  of  Guise,  and  Henry  found  that  the 
throne  was  inaccessible  to  all  but  papists  ;  he 
therefore  renounced  heresy  before  Dr.  Benoit, 
a  moderate  papist,  and  professed  his  conversion 
to  popery.  Paris  opened  its  gates,  the  po])e 
sent  an  absolution,  and  Henry  became  a  riiost 
clirislKin  king.  [159-1]  Every  man  may  re- 
joice that  his  virtue  is  not  put  to  the  trial  of 
refusing  a  crown  ! 

When  his  majesty  got  to  his  palace  in  Paris, 
he  thought  proper  to  conciliate  hii  new  friends 


by  showing  them  particular  esteem,  and  play- 
ed at  cards  the  first  evening  with  a  lady  of 
the  house  of  Guise,  the  most  violent  leaguer 
in  all  the  party.  His  old  servants,  who  had 
shed  rivers  of  blood  to  bring  the  house  of 
Bourbon  to  the  throne,  thought  themselves 
neglected.  While  the  prolestants  weie  slight- 
ed, and  while  those,  who  had  fo'lowed  the 
league,  were  disengasing  themselves  from  it 
on  advantageous  conditions,  one  of  the  king's 
old  friends  said,  "  We  do  not  envy  your  kill- 
ing the  fatted  calf  for  the  prodi"al  son,  pro- 
vided you  do  not  sacrifice  the  obedient  son  to 
make  the  better  entertainment  for  the  prodi- 
gal. 1  dread  tho«e  bargains,  in  which  things 
are  given  up,  and  nothing  got  but  mere  words; 
the  words  of  those  who  hitherto  have  had  no 
words  at  all." 

By  ascending  the  throne  of  France.  Henry 
had  risen  to  the  highest  de2:ree  of  wretched- 
ness. He  had  offered  violence  to  his  con- 
science by  embracing  popery;  he  had  stirred 
up  a  general  discontent  among  the  French 
protestants;  the  queen  of  I'ngland,  and  the 
protestant  states,  re|)roached  him  bitterly;  the 
league  refused  to  acknowledge  him  till  the 
pope  had  absolveu  him  in  form  ;  the  king  of 
Spain  caballed  for  the  crown  ;  several  cities 
held  out  against  him  ;  many  of  the  clergy 
thought  him  an  hypocrite,  and  refused  to  in- 
sert his  name  in  the  public  prayers  of  the 
church  ;  the  lawyers  published  libels  against 
him;  the  Jesuits  threatened  to  assassinate  him, 
and  actually  attempted  to  do  it.  In  this  deli- 
cate and  difficult  situation,  though  his  majesty 
manifested  the  frailty  of  humanity  by  renounc- 
ing protestantism,  yet  he  e  iricated  himself 
and  his  subjects  from  the  fatal  labyrinths  in 
which  they  were  all  involved,  so  that  he  de- 
servedly acquired  from  his  enemies  the  epi- 
thet Great,  though  his  friends  durst  not  give 
him  that  of  Good. 

The  king  had  been  so  well  acquainted  with 
the  protestants,  that  he  perfectly  knew  their 
principles,  and,  could  he  have  acted  as  he 
would,  he  would  have  instantly  granted  them 
all  that  they  wanted.  1  heir  enemies  had 
falsely  said,  that  th^y  were  enemies  to  govern- 
ment: but  the  king  knew  better ;  and  he  also 
knew  that  the  claims  of  his  family  would  have 
been  long  ago  buried  in  oblivion,  had  not  the 
protestants  supported  them  Marshal  Biron 
had  been  one  chief  instrument  of  bringing 
him  to  the  throne.  The  Marshal  was  not  a 
good  Hugonot,  nor  did  he  profess  to  be  a  pa- 
pist: but  he  espoused  the  protestant  party, 
for  he  was  a  man  of  great  sense,  and  he  hated 
violence  in  religion;  and  there  were  many 
more  of  the  same  cast.  Parties,  however,  ran 
so  high  that  precipitancy  would  have  lost  all, 
and  Henry  was  obliged  to  proceed  by  slow  and 
cautious  steps. 

The  deputies  of  the  reformed  churches,  soon 
waited  on  his  majesty  to  congratulate  him, 
and  to  pray  for  liberty.  The  king  allowed 
them  to  hold  a  general  assembly,  and  ofl'ered 
them  some  slight  satisfaction  :  but  the  hardy 
veteran  Hugonots,  who  had  spent  their  days 
in  the  field,  and  who  knew  also  that  persons, 
who  were  of  approved  fidelity,  might  venture 


REFORMATION  IN    FRANCE. 


XVll 


to  give  the  king  their  advice  without  angering 
him,  took  the  liberty  of  reminding  him  that 
they  would  not  be  paid  in  compliments  for  so 
many  signal  services.  Their  ancestors  and 
they  had  supported  his  right  to  the  crown, 
along  with  their  own  right  to  liberty  of  con- 
science, and  as  Providence  had  granted  the 
one,  they  expected  that  the  other  would  not 
be  denied.  The  king  felt  the  force  of  these 
remonstrances,  and  ventured  to  allow  them  to 
hold  provincial  assemblies ;  after  a  while,  to 
convene  a  national  synod,  and,  as  soon  as  he 
could,  he  granted  them  the  famous  Edict  of 
Nantz.  [1398.] 

The  Edict  of  Nantz,  which  was  called  per- 
petual and  irrevocable,  and  which  contained 
ninety-two  articles,  besides  fifty-six  secret  arti- 
cles, granted  to  the  Protestants  liberty  of  con- 
science, and  the  free  exercise  of  religion  ;  ma- 
ny churches  in  all  parts  of  France,  and  judges 
of  their  own  persuasion  ;  a  free  access  to  all 
places  of  honour  and  dignity  ;  great  sums  of 
money  to  pay  off  their  troops  ;  a  hundred  pla- 
ces as  pledgesof  their  future  security,  and  cer- 
tain funds  to  maintain  both  their  preachers 
and  their  garrisons.  The  king  did  not  send 
this  edict  to  be  registered  in  parliament,  till 
the  pope's  legate  was  gone  out  of  the  king- 
dom, so  that  it  did  not  go  there  till  the  next 
year.  Some  of  the  old  party  in  the  house 
boggled  at  it  very  much,  and  particularly  be- 
cause the  Hugonots  were  hereby  qualified  for 
offices,  and  places  of  trust ;  but  his  majesty 
sent  for  some  of  the  chiefs  to  his  closet,  made 
them  a  most  pathetic  speech  on  the  occasion, 
and,  with  some  difficulty,  brought  them  to  a 
compliance.  It  is  easy  to  conceive  that  the 
king  might  be  very  pathetic  on  this  occasion, 
for  he  had  seen  and  suffered  enough  to  make 
any  man  so.  The  meanest  Hugonot  sol- 
dier could  not  avoid  the  pathos,  if  he  related 
his  campaigns.  But  it  is  very  credible,  that  it 
was  not  the  pathos  of  his  majesty's  language, 
but  the  power  in  his  hand,  that  aflected  these 
intolerant  souls. 

No  nation  ever  made  a  more  noble  struggle, 
for  recovering  liberty  of  conscience  out  of  the 
rapacious  hands  of  the  Papal  priesthood  than 
the  French.  And  one  may  venture  to  defy 
the  most  sanguine  friend  to  intolerance  to 
prove,  that  a  free  toleration  hath,  in  any  coun- 
try, at  any  period,  produced  such  calamities  in 
society  as  those  which  persecution  produced 
in  France.  After  a  million  of  brave  men  had 
been  destroyed,  after  nine  civd  wars,  after 
four  pitched  battles,  after  the  besieging  of  se- 
veral hundred  places,  after  more  than  three 
hundred  engagements,  after  poisoning,  burn- 
ing, assassinating,  massacreing,  murdering  in 
every  form,  France  is  forced  to  submit  to 
what  her  wise  Chancellor  de  L'Hospital  had 
at  first  proposed,  a  frek  tolkratioiv. 
Most  of  the  zealous  leaguers  voted  for  it,  be- 
cause iliey  had  found  by  experience,  they  said, 
that  violent  proceedings  in  matters  of  religion 
prove  more  destructive  than  edifying:  A  noble 
testimony  from  enemies'  moutlis  ! 

France  now  began  to  taste  tlie  sweets  of 
peace,  the  king  employed  himself  in  making 
his  subjects  hfinpv.  and  the  far  greater  part  of 

C 


his  subjects,  endeavoured  to  render  him  so. 
Thff  Protestants  applied  themselves  to  the 
care  of  their  churches,  and,  as  they  had  at 
this  time  a  great  many  able  ministers,  they 
flourisheil,  and  increased  the  remaining  part 
of  this  reign.  The  doctrine  of  their  church- 
es was  Calvinism,  and  their  discipline  was 
Presbyterian,  after  the  Geneva  plan.  Their 
churches  were  supplied  by  able  pastors  ;  their 
universities  were  adorned  with  learned  and 
pious  professors,  such  as  Casaubon,  Daille, 
and  others,  whose  praises  are  in  all  the  re- 
formed churches  ;  their  provincial,  and  nation- 
al synods  were  regularly  convened,  and  their 
people  were  well  governed.  Much  paini 
were  taken  with  the  king  to  alienate  his  mind 
from  his  Protestant  subjects :  but  no  motives 
could  influence  him.  He  knew  the  worth  of 
the  men,  and  he  protected  them  till  his  death. 
This  great  prince  was  hated  by  the  Popish 
clergv  for  his  lenity,  and  was  stabbed  in  his 
coach  by  the  execrable  Ravillac,  whose  name 
inspires  one  with  horror  and  pain.  [May  14, 
1610.] 

Lewis  XIII.  was  not  quite  nine  years  of 
age,  when  he  succeeded  his  father  Henry, 
The  first  act  of  the  queen  mother,  who  had 
the  regency  during  the  king's  minority,  was 
the  confirmation  of  the  edict  of  Nantz.  Lewis 
confirmed  it  again  at  his  majority,  promising 
to  observe  it  inviolably.  [1614.]  Tlie  Protes- 
tants deserved  a  confirmation  of  their  privileges 
at  his  hands  ;  for  they  had  taken  no  part  in  the 
civil  wars  and  disturbances  which  had  troubled 
his  minority.  They  had  been  earnestly  so- 
licited to  intermeddle  with  government :  tut 
they  had  wisely  avoided  it. 

Lewis  was  a  weak  ambitious  man  ;  he  was 
jealous  of  his  power  to  excess,  though  he  did 
not  know  wherein  it  consisted.  He  was  so 
void  of  prudence,  that  he  could  not  help  ex- 
alting his  flatterers  into  favourites,  and  his  fa- 
vourites into  excessive  power.  He  was  so 
timorous  that  his  favourites  became  the  objects 
of  his  hatred,  the  moment  after  he  had  elevat- 
ed them  to  authority :  and  he  was  so  callous 
that  he  never  lamented  a  favourite's  death  er 
downfall.  By  a  solemn  act  of  devotion,  at- 
tended, with  all  the  force  of  pictures,  masses, 
processions,  and  festivals,  he  consecrated  his 
person,  his  dominions,  his  crown  and  his  sub- 
jects to  the  Virgin  Mary,  desiring  her  to  de- 
fend his  kingdom,  and  to  inspire  him  with 
grace  to  lead  a  holy  life.  [1638.]  The  Popish 
clergy  adored  him  for  thus  sanctifying  their 
superstitions  by  his  example,  and  he,  in  return, 
lent  them  his  power  to  punish  his  Protestant 
subjects,  whom  he  hated.  His  panegyrist* 
call  him  Lewis  the  Just :  but  they  ought  to 
acknowledge  that  his  majesty  did  nothing  to 
merit  the  title,  till  he  found  himself  dying. 

Lewis's  prime  minister  was  an  artful,  en- 
terprising clergyman,  who,  before  his  eleva- 
tion, was  a  country  bishop,  and,  after  it,  was 
known  by  the  title  of  Cardinal  de  F>,ichlieu  : 
but  the  most  proper  title  for  his  eminence  is 
that,  which  some  historians  give  him,  of  the 
Jupiter  Maciator  of  France.  He  was  a  man 
of  great  ability:  but  of  no  merit.  Had  his 
virtue  been  a?  great  as  his  cnpacity,  he  ought 


XVlll 


MEMOIRS    OF  THE 


not  to  have  been  iiitrnsteil  with  government, 
because  all  Cardinals  take  an  oath  to*  the 
Pope,  and  although  an  oath  does  not  bind  a 
bad  man,  yet  as  the  taking  of  it  gives  hin^ 
credit,  so  the  breach  of  it  ruiiis  all  his  pros- 
pects among  those  with  ■whom  he  hath  taken 
it. 

The  Jesuits,  who  had  been  banished  from 
France,  for  attempting  the  life  of  Henry  iV. 
[1594.]  had  been  recalled,  and  restored  to  their 
houses,  [1604.]  and  one  of  their  society,  un- 
der pretence  ofbeing  responsible,  as  a  hostage, 
for  the  whole  fraternity,  was  allowed  to  attend 
the  king.  The  Jesuits,  by  this  mean,  gained 
the  greatest  honour  and  power,  and,  as  they 
excelled  in  learning,  address,  and  intrigue, 
they  knew  how  to  obtain  the  king's  ear,  and 
how  to  improve  his  credulity  to  their  own  ad- 
vantage. 

This  dangerous  society  was  first  formed 
[1534.]  by  Ignatius  Loyola,  a  Spanish  deserter, 
who,  being  frightened  out  of  the  army  by  a 
■wound,  took  it  into  his  head  to  go  on  pilgrim- 
age, and  to  form  a  religious  society  for  the  sup- 
port of  the  Catholic  faith.  The  Popes,  who 
knew  how  to  avail  themselves  of  enthusiasm 
in  church  government,  directed  this  grand 
spring  of  human  action  to  secular  purposes, 
and,  by  canonizing  the  founder,  and  arranging 
the  order,  elevated  the  society  in  a  few  years, 
to'  a  height  that  astonished  all  Europe.  It  was 
one  opinion  of  this  society,  that  the  authority 
of  kings  is  inferior  to  that  of  the  people,  and 
tliat  they  may  be  punished  by  the  people  in 
certain  cases.  It  was  another  maxim  with 
them,  that  sovereign  princes  have  received 
from  the  hand  of  God  a  sword  to  punish  he- 
retics. The  Jesuits  did  not  invent  these  doc- 
trines ;  but  they  drew  such  consequences  from 
them  as  were  most  prejudicial  to  the  public 
tranquility;  for,  from  the  conjunction  of  these 
two  principles,  they  concluded  that  an  hereti- 
cal prince  ought  to  be  deposed,  and  that  here- 
sy ought  to  be  extirpated  by  fire  and  sword, 
in  case  it  could  not  be  extirpated  otherwise. 
In  conformity  to  the  first  of  these  principles, 
two  kings  of  France  had  been  murdered  suc- 
cessively, under  pretext  that  they  were  fou- 
tors  of  heretics.  The  parliament  in  this  reign 
[1615.]  condemned  this  as  a  pernicious  tenet, 
and  declared  that  the  authority  of  monarchs 
was  dependant  only  on  God.  But  the  last 
principle,  that  related  to  the  extirpation  of 
heresy,  as  it  flattered  the  court  and  the  clergy, 
came  into  vogue.  Jus  divinum  was  the  teit 
of  sound  orthodoxy;  and  this  reasoning  be- 
came popular  argumentation.  Princes  may 
put  heretics  to  death  ;  therefore  they  ought  to 
put  thtm  to  death. 

Richlieu,  who  had  wriggled  himself  into 
power,  by  publisliing  a  scandalous  libel  on  the 
protestants  of  France,  advised  the  king  to  es- 
tablish his  authority,  by  extirpating  the  intes- 
tine evils  of  the  kingdom.  He  assured  his 
majesty  that  the  Hugonots  had  the  power  of 
doing  him  mischief,  and  that  it  was  a  princi- 
ple with  them,  that  kings  might  be  deposed 
by  the  people.  The  Protestants  replied  to  his 
invectives,  and  exposed  the  absurdity  of  his 
vcaconing.      llichlieu   reasoned  thus.       John 


Knox,  the  Scotch  reformer,  did  not  bclier* 
the  divine  authority  of  kings.  Calvin  held  a 
correspondence  with  Knox,  therefore  Calvin 
did  not  believe  it.  The  French  reformed 
cliurch  derived  its  doctrine  from  Calvin's 
church  of  Geneva,  therefore  the  first  Hugo- 
nots did  not  believe  it.  The  first  Plugonots 
did  not  believe  it,  therefore  the  present 
Hugonots  do  not  believe  it.  No  man,  who 
valued  the  reputation  of  a  man  of  sense,  would 
have  scaled  the  walls  of  preferment  with  such 
a  ridiculous  ladder  as  this  I 

The  king,  intoxicated  with  despotic  princi- 
ples, followed  the  fatal  advice  of  his  minister^ 
and  began  with  his  patrimonial  province  of 
Bcarn,  where  he  caused  the  Catholic  religion 
to  be  established.  [1620.]  The  Hugonots 
broke  out  into  violence,  at  this  attack  on  their 
liberties,  whence  the  king  took  an  opportu- 
nity to  recover  several  places  from  them,  and 
at  last  made  peace  with  them  on  condition  of 
their  demolishing  all  their  fortifications  except 
those  of  Montauban  and  Piochelle.  Arnoux, 
the  Jesuit,  who  was  a  creature  of  Richlieu's, 
was  at  that  time,  confessor  of  Lewis  the 
Just. 

The  politic  Richlieu  invariably  pursued  his 
design  of  rendering  his  master  absolute.  By 
one  art  he  subdued  the  nobility,  by  another 
the  parliaments,  and,  as  civil  and  religious 
liberty  live  and  die  together,  he  had  engines 
of  all  sorts  to  extirpate  heresy.  He  pretended 
to  have  formed  the  design  of  re-uniting  the 
ivfo  cluirches  of  Protestants  and  Caiholics. 
He  drew  off  from  the  Protestant  party  the 
dukes  ol'  Sully,  Bouillon,  Lesdeguieres,  Ro- 
han, and  many  of  the  first  quality  :  for  he  had 
tlie  world,  and  its  glory  to  go  to  market  with- 
al ;  and  he  had  to  do  with  a  race  of  men,  who 
were  very  different  from  their  ancestors. 
Most  of  them  had  either  died  for  their  pro- 
fession, or  fled  out  of  the  kingdom,  and  seve- 
ral of  them  had  submitted  to  practise  mean 
trades,  in  foreign  countries,  for  their  support : 
But  these  v.'ere  endeavouring  to  serve  God  and 
mammon ;  and  his  eminence  was  a  fit  casuist 
for  such  consciences. 

The  Protestants  had  resolved,  in  a  general 
assembly,  to  die  rather  tlian  to  submit  to  the 
loss  of  their  liberties  :  but  their  king  was  weak, 
their  prime  minister  was  wicked,  their  cleri- 
cal enemies  were  powerful  and  implacable, 
and  they  were  obliged  to  bear  those  infractions 
of  edicts,  which  their  oppressors  made  every 
day.  At  length  Richlieu  determined  to  put  a 
period  to  their  hopes,  by  the  taking  of  Rochelle. 
The  city  was  besieged  both  by  sea  and  land, 
and  the  eflbvts  of  the  besieged  were  at  last 
overcome  by  famine,  they  had  lived  Avithout 
bread  for  thirteen  weeks,  and,  of  eighteen 
thoupand  citizens  there  were  not  above  five 
thousand  left.  [1G25.]  The  strength  of  the 
Protestants  was  broken  by  this  stroke.  Mon- 
tauban agreed  now  to  demolish  its  Avorks,  and 
Xhcjast  king  confirmed  anew  the  perpetual  and 
irrevocalile  edict  of  Nantz,  as  far  as  it  concern- 
ed a  free  exercise  of  religion. 

The  Cardinal,  not  content  witli  temporal 
pov.'cr,  had  still  another  claim  on  the  Protes- 
tants, of  a  spiritual  kind.     Cautionary  town* 


REFORMATION  IN  FRANCE 


XIX 


must  be  given  up  to  that,  and  conscience  to 
this.  He  suffered  the  edict  to  be  infringed 
every  day,  and  hs  was  determined  not  to  stop 
till  he  had  established  a  uniformity  in  the 
church,  without  the  obtaining  of  which,  he 
thought,  that  something  was  wanting  to  his 
master's  power.  The  Protestants  did  all  that 
prudence  could  suggest.  They  sent  the  fa- 
mous Amyraut  to  court  to  complain  to  the 
king  of  the  infraction  of  their  edicts.  [1631.] 
Mr.  Amyraut  was  a  proper  person  to  go  on 
this  business.  He  had  an  extreme  attachment 
to  the  doctrine  of  passive  obedience.  This 
rendered  him  agreeable  to  the  court :  and  he 
had  declared  for  no  obedience  in  matters  of 
conscience,  and  this  made  him  dear  to  the  Pro- 
testants. The  synod  ordered  him  not  to  make 
his  speech  to  the  king  kneeling,  as  the  deputies 
of  the  former  synod  had  done  :  but  to  procure 
the  restoring  of  the  privilege,  which  they  for- 
merly enjoyed,  of  speaking  to  the  king,  stand- 
ing as  the  other  ecclesiastics  of  the  kingdom 
"were  allowed  to  do.  The  cardinal  strove, 
for  a  whole  fortnight,  to  make  Amyraut  sub- 
mit to  this  tacit  acknowledgment  of  the  cleri- 
cal character  in  the  Popish  clergy,  and  of  the 
want  of  it  in  the  reformed  ministers.  But 
Amyraut  persisted  in  his  clami,  and  was  in- 
troduced to  the  king  as  the  sj'nod  had  desired. 
The  whole  court  was  charmed  with  the  depu- 
ty's talents  and  deportment.  Richlieu  had 
many  conferences  with  him,  and,  if  negotia- 
tion could  have  accommodated  the  dispute  be- 
tween arbitrary  power  and  upright  consciences, 
it  would  have  been  settled  now.  He  was 
treated  with  the  utmost  politeness,  and  dis- 
missed. If  he  had  not  the  pleasure  of  reflect- 
ing that  he  had  obtained  the  liberty  of  his 
party,  he  had,  however,  the  peace  that  ariseth 
from  the  consciousness  of  having  used  a  pro- 
per mean  to  obtain  it.  The  same  mean  was 
tried,  some  time  after,  by  the  inimitable  Du 
Bosc,  whom  his  countrymen  call  a  per- 
fect ORATOR,  but  alas  I  he  was  eloquent  in 
vain. 

The  affairs  of  the  Protestants  waxed  every 
day  worse  and  worse.  They  saw  the  clouds 
gathering,  and  they  dreaded  the  weight  of  the 
storm:  but  they  knew  not  whither  to  flee. 
Some  fled  to  England,  but  no  peace  was  there. 
Laud,  the  tyrant  of  the  English  church,  had  a 
Richlieu's  heart  without  his  head;  he  perse- 
cuted them,  and,  in  conjunction  with  Wren, 
and  other  such  churchmen,  drove  them  back 
to  the  infinite  damage  of  the  manufactures  of 
the  kingdom.  [1634.]  It  must  affect  every  lib- 
eral eye  to  see  such  professors  as  Amyraut, 
Cappel,  and  De  La  Place,  such  ministers  as 
Mestrezat  and  Blondel,  who  would  have  been 
an  honour  to  any  community,  driven  to  the 
sad  alternative  of  flying  their  country,  or  of 
violating  their  consciences.  But  their  time 
was  not  yet  fully  come. 

Cardinal  Richlieu's  hoary  head  went  down 
to  the  grave,  [1042.]  without  tlie  tears  of  his 
master,  and  with  the  hatred  of  all  France. 
The  king  soon  followed  him,  [1643.]  complain- 
ing, m  the  words  of  Job,  vu/  suul  is  itcan/  of  my 
lije.  The  Protestants  had  increased  greatly 
in  Bumberi  in  this  reign,  though  they  had  lost 


their  power  :  for  they  were  now  computed  to 
exceed  two  millions.  So  true  is  it,  that  violent 
measures  in  religion  weaken  the  church  that 
employs  them. 

Lewis  XIV.  was  only  in  the  fifth  year  of  his 
age  at  the  demise  of  his  lather.  The  queen- 
mother  was  appointed  sole  regent  during  hig 
minority,  and  Cardinal  Mazarine,  a  creature  of 
Richlieu's,  was  her  prime  minister.  [1643.] 
The  edict  of  Nantz  was  confiimed  by  the  re- 
gent, and  again  by  the  king  at  his  majority^ 
[1652.]  But  it  was  always  the  cool  determina- 
tion of  the  minister  to  follow  thelateCardinal'i 
plan,  and  to  revoke  it  as  soon  as  he  could,  and 
he  strongly  impressed  the  mind  of  the  king^ 
with  the  expediency  of  it. 

Lewis,  who  was  a  perfect  tool  to  the  Jesuits, 
followed  the  advice  of  Mazarine,  of  his  confes- 
sors, and  of  the  clergy  about  him,  and  as  soon 
as  he  took  the  management  of  afi'airs  into  hi« 
own  hands,  he  made  a  firm  resolution  to  de* 
stroy  the  Protestants.  [1661.]  He  tried  to 
weaken  them  by  buying  off  their  great  men, 
and  he  had  but  too  much  success.  Some,  in- 
deed, were  superior  to  this  state  trick;  and  it 
was  a  noble  answer  which  the  Mai-qnis  de 
BoLigy  gave,  wiien  he  was  offered  a  marshal's 
stafl',  and  any  government  that  he  might  make 
choice  of,  provided  he  would  ttu-n  Papistr. 
"Could  I  be  prevailed  on,  said  he,  to  betray 
my  God,  for  a  marshal  of  France's  stafl',  I  might 
betray  my  king  for  a  thing  of  much  less  con- 
sequence: but  I  will  do  neither  of  them,  but 
rejoice  to  find  that  my  services  are  acceptable, 
and  that  the  religion  which  I  profess,  is  the  on- 
ly obstacle  to  my  rewar(i."  Was  his  majesty 
so  little  versed  in  the  kn.owledge  of  mankind, 
as  not  to  know  that  saleable  virtue  is  seldom 
worth  buying.' 

The  king  used  another  art  as  mean  as  the 
former.  He  exhorted  the  bishops  to  take 
care,  that  the  points  in  controversy  betwixt 
the  Catholics  and  Calvinists  should  |be  much 
insisted  on  by  the  clergy,  in  their  sermons,  es- 
pecially in  those  places  that  were  mostly  inha- 
bited by  the  lattei',  and  that  a  good  number  of 
missionaries  should  be  sent  among  them,  to 
convert  them  to  the  religion  of  their  ancestors. 
It  should  seem,  at  first  view,  that  the  exercise 
of  his  majesty's  power  in  this  way  would  be 
formidable  to  the  Protestants,  for,  as  the  king 
had  the  nomination  of  eighteen  archbishops, 
a  hundred  an.d  nine  bishops,  and  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  abbots,  and  as  these  dignitaries 
governed  the  ini'erior  clergy,  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  all  tlie  Popish  clergy  of  France  were  crea- 
tuics  of  the  court,  and  several  of  them  v/ere 
men  of  good  learning.  But  the  Protestants  had 
no  fears  on  this  head.  They  were  excellent 
scliolars,  masters  of  the  controversy,  hearty  in 
the  service,  and  the  mortifications,  to  which 
they  had  been  long  accustomed,  had  taught 
them  that  temperate  coolness,  Avhich  is  so  es- 
sential in  the  investigating  and  supporting  of 
truth.  They  published,  therefore,  unanswer- 
able arguments  for  their  non-conformity.  The 
famous  Mr.  Claude,  pastor  of  the  church  at 
Charenton,  near  Paris,  wrote  a  defence  of  the 
reformation,  whicli  all  the  clergy  in  France 
could  not  anjwT.     The  bishops,  hewaver,  sm- 


XX 


MEMOIRS  or  THE 


swcred  the  Protestants  all  at  once,  by  procu- 
ring an  edict  which  forbade   them  to  print. 

The  king,  in  prosecution  of  his  design,  ex- 
cluded the  Calvinists  from  his  household,  and 
from  all  other  employments  of  honour  and 
profit;  he  ordered  all  the  courts  of  justice,  erect- 
ed by  virtue  of  the  edict  of  Nantz,  to  be  abol- 
ished, and,  in  lieu  of  them,  made  several  lavrs 
in  favour  of  the  Catholic  religion,  which  debar- 
red from  all  liberty  of  abjuring  the  Catholic 
doctrine,  and  restrained  those  Protestants,  who 
had  embraced  it,  from  returning  to  their  for- 
mer opinions,  under  severe  punishments.  He 
ordered  soldiers  to  be  quartei'ed  in  their  hou- 
ses till  they  changed  their  religion.  He  shut 
up  their  churches,  and  forbade  the  ministerial 
function  to  their  clergy,  and,  where  his  com- 
mands were  not  readily  obeyed,  he  levelled 
their  churches  with  tlie  ground.  At  last  he 
revoked  the  edict  of  Nantz,  and  banisliedtliem 
from  the  kingdom.  [Oct.  22,  1685.] 

"A  thousand  dreadful  blows,"' says  Mr.  Sau- 
rin,  "were  struck  at  our  afflicted  churches,  be- 
fore that  which  destroyed  them  :  for  our  ene- 
mies, if  I  may  use  such  an  expression,  not  con- 
tent with  seeing  our  ruin,  endeavoured  to 
taste  it.  One  while,  edicts  were  published 
against  those,  who,  foreseeing  the  calamities 
that  threatened  our  churches,  and  not  having 
power  to  prevent  them,  desired  only  the  sad 
consolation  of  not  being  spectators  of  their  ru- 
in. [Aug.  1669.]  Another  while,  against  those, 
■who,  through  their  weakness,  had  denied  their 
religion,  and  who  not  being  able  to  bear  the 
remorse  of  their  consciences,  desired  to  return 
to  their  first  profession.  [May,  1679.]  One 
•while,  our  pastors  were  forbidden  to  exercise 
their  discipline  on  those  of  their  flocks,  who 
had  abjured  the  truth.  [June,  1680.]  Another 
while,  children  of  seven  years  of  age  were  al- 
lowed to  embrace  doctrines,  which,  the  church 
of  Rome  says,  are  not  level  to  the  capacities  of 
adults.  [June  1681.]  Now  a  college  was  sup- 
pressed, andthenachurchshutup.  [Jan.  1683.] 
Sometimes  we  were  forbidden  to  convert  infi- 
dels; and  sometimes  to  confirm  those  in  the 
truth,  whom  we  had  instructed  from  their  in- 
fancy, and  our  pastors  were  forbidden  to  exer- 
cise their  pastoral  ofTice  any  longer  in  one 
place  than  three  years.  [July  IGlJ.l.]  Some- 
times the  printing  of  our  books  was  prohibited, 
and  sometimes  those  wliich  we  had  printed 
were  taken  away.  [Sept.  1685.]  One  while,  we 
were  not  suflTered  to  jireach  in  a  church,  and 
another  while,  we  were  punished  for  preach- 
ing on  its  ruins,  and  atlength  we  were  forbidden 
to  worship  God  in  public  at  all.  [Oct.  1685.] 
Now  we  were  banislied,  then  we  were  forbid- 
den to  quit  tlie  kingdom  on  pain  of  death. 
[1689.]  Ilerc  we  saw  the  glorious  rewards 
of  those  who  betrayed  their  religion;  and  there 
W'e  belield  those  who  had  tlie  courage  to  con- 
fess it,  a  haling  to  a  dungeon,  a  scaffold,  or  a 
galley.  Here,  we  saw  our  persecutors  draw- 
ing on  a  sledge  the  dead  bodies  of  those  who 
had  expired  on  the  rack.  There,  we  beheld  a 
false  friar  tormenting  a  dying  man,  who  was 
terrified,  on  tlie  one  hand,  with  the  fear  of 
hell  if  he  sliould  apostatize,  and,  on  the  other, 
with  the  fcnr  of  leavinq,"  his  cjiildren  without 


bread  if  he  should  continue  in  the  faith :  yon- 
der, they  were  tearing  children  from  their  pa» 
rents,  while  the  tender  parents  were  shedding 
more  tears  for  the  loss  of  their  souls,  than  for 
that  of  their  bodies,  or  lives." 

It  is  impossible  to  meet  with  parallel  instan- 
ces of  cruelty  among  the  heathens  in  their  per- 
secutions of  the  primitive  christians.  The 
bloody  butchers,  w^ho  were  sent  to  them  un- 
der the  name  of  Dragoons,  invented  a  thou- 
sand torments  to  tire  their  patience,  and  to 
force  an  abjuration  from  them.  "They  cast 
some,"  says  Mr.  Claude,  "into  large  fires  and 
took  them  out  when  they  were  half  i-oasted. 
They  hanged  others  with  large  ropes  under 
their  arm-pits,  and  plunged  them  several  times 
into  wells,  till  they  ])romised  to  renounce  their 
religion.  They  tied  them  like  criminals  on  the 
rack,  and  poured  wine  with  a  funnel  into  their 
mouths,  till,  being  intoxicated,  they  declared 
that  they  consented  to  tui'n  Catholics.  These 
cruel  proceedings  made  eight  hundred  thou- 
sand persons  quit  the  kingdom. 

If  the  same  actions  may  proceed  from  difler- 
ent  principles,  it  must  always  be  a  hazardous, 
and  often  an  unjust,  attempt,  to  assign  the  true 
motives  of  men's  conduct.  But  public  actions 
fall  under  public  notice,  and  they  deserve  cen- 
sure, or  commendation,  according  to  the  obvi- 
ous good  or  evil,  which  they  produce  in  socie- 
ty. The  art  of  governing  requires  a  superior 
genius,  and  a  superior  genius  hides,  like  a  lofty 
mountain,  its  summit  in  the  clouds.  In  some 
cases,  a  want  of  capacity,  and,  in  others,  a  fund 
of  selfishness,  would  prevent  a  subject'.s  com- 
prehension of  his  prince's  projects,  and,  consc/- 
quently,  his  approbation  of  the  prince's  mea- 
sures; and,  for  these  reasons,  the  cabinets  of 
princes  should  be  the  least  accessible,  and  their 
hearts  the  most  impenetrable  parts  of  their  do- 
minions :  but  when  the  prince  would  reduce 
his  projects  to  practice,  and  cause  his  imagina- 
tions to  become  rules  of  action  to  his  subjects, 
he  ought  to  give  a  reason  for  his  conduct,  and 
if  his  conduct  be  rational,  he  will  do  so,  for  as 
all  lav/  is  founded  in  reason,  so  reason  is  its  best 
support.  In  such  a  case,  the  nature  of  the 
thing,  as  well  as  the  respect  tliat  is  due  to  the 
rank  of  tlie  prince,  would  require  ustobe  either 
mute  or  modest,  on  the  motive;  and  the  same 
reasons  would  require  us  to  consider  the  rea- 
sonableness, or  unreasonableness,  of  the  law, 
for  if  it  be  not  reason,  it  ought  not  to  be  law; 
and  nothing  can  prevent  our  feeling  the  good  or 
ill  effects  of  the  whole  action. 

To  disfranchise,  and  to  banish,  to  imprison, 
and  to  execute,  some  members  of  society,  are 
paitial  evils  :  but  they  are  also  sometimes  gen- 
eral benefits,  and  the  excision  of  a  part  may  be 
essential  to  the  preservation  of  the  whole.  The 
inflicting  of  these  punishments  on  the  French 
Protestants,  might  possibly  be  essential  to  tlie 
safety  of  the  whole  nation.  Or,  perhaps  his 
majesty  might  think  it  essential  to  monarchy; 
perhaps  the  clergy  might  think  it  essential  to 
orthodoxy ;  perhaps  the  financiers,  and  the 
king's  mistresses,  might  think  it  essential  to  the 
making  of  their  fortunes  ;  but  we  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  these  private  views,  the  ques- 
tions are,  "Was  it  essential  to  the  general  safely 


REFORMATION  IN  FRANCE. 


XXI 


and  happiness  of  the  kingdom  ?  Was  it  agree- 
able to  the  unalterable  dictates  of  right  rea- 
son ?  Was  it  consistent  with  the  sound,  ap- 
proved maxims  of  civil  policy  ?  In  these  views, 
we  venture  to  say,  that  tlie  repeal  of  the  edict 
of  Nantz,  which  had  been  the  security  of  the 
Protestants,  was  an  action  irrational  and  irre- 
ligious, inhuman  and  ungrateful,  perfidious, 
impolitic,  and  weak.  II  respect  to  religion, 
and  right  reason,  were  to  compose  a  just  title 
for  the  perpetrator  of  such  a  crime,  it  might 
call  him,  a  most  inhiimcm  tyrant :  certainly  it 
would  not  call  him,  a  most  Ckristicm  kinfi. 

It  was  an  irrational  act,  for  there  was  no  fit- 
ness between  the  punishment  and  the  sup- 
posed crime.  The  crime  was  a  mental  error  : 
but  penal  laws  have  no  internal  operation  on 
the  mind.  It  was  irreligious^  for  religion  ends 
where  persecution  begins.  An  action  may  be- 
gin in  religion  :  but  when  it  proceeds  to  injure 
a  person,  it  ceaseth  to  be  religion,  it  is  only  a 
denomination,  and  a  method  of  acting.  It  was 
inhuman,  for  it  caused  the  most  savage  cruel- 
ties. It  was  as  ungrateful  in  the  house  of 
Bourbon  to  murder  their  old  supporters,  as  it 
was  magnanimous  in  the  Protestants,  under 
their  severest  persecutions,  to  tell  their  mur- 
derer, that  they  thought  that  blood  well  em- 
ployed, which  had  been  spilt  in  supporting 
the  just  claim  of  the  house  of  Bourbon  to  the 
throne.  It  was,  to  the  last  degree,  perfidious, 
for  the  edict  of  Nantz  had  been  given  by  Hen- 
ry IV.  for  a  perpetual,  and  irrevocable  decree  ; 
it  had  been  confirmed  by  tlie  succeeding  prin- 
ces, and  Lewis  XIV.  himself  had  assigned  in 
the  declaration  the  loyalty  of  the  i'rotestants, 
as  a  reason  of  the  confirmation.  My  subjects 
of  the  pretended  reformed  religion,  says  he, 
have  given  me  unciuesiionable  proofs  of  their 
affection  and  loyally.  It  had  been  sworn  to  by 
the  governors  and  lieutenants  general  of  the 
provinces,  by  the  courts  of  parliament,  and  by 
all  the  officers  of  the  courts  of  justice.  What 
national  perjury  !  Is  it  enough  to  say,  as  this 
perjured  monarch  did.  My  grandfather  Henry 
IV.  loved  you,  and  ivas  obliged  to  you.  My  fa- 
ttier, Lewis  XIII.  feared  you,  and  wanted  your 
assistance.  But  I  neither  love  you,  nor  fear 
you,  and  do  not  want  your  services.  The  ill 
policy  of  it  is  confessed  on  all  sides.  Where 
is  the  policy  of  banishing  eight  hundred  thou- 
sand people,  who  declare  that  a  free  exercise 
of  religion  ought  not  to  injure  any  man's  civil 
rights,  and,  on  this  principle,  support  the  king's 
claim  to  the  crown,  as  long  as  lie  executes  the 
duty  of  the  office?  Where  is  tlie  policy  of  do- 
ing this  in  order  to  secure  a  set  of  men,  who 
openly  avow  these  propositions,  tlie  Pope  is 
superior  to  all  law  :  It  is  right  to  kill  that 
prince,  whom  the  Pope  excommunicates  :  If  a 
prince  become  anArian,  the  people  ought  to  de- 
pose him  ?  Where  is  the  policy  of  banishing 
men,  whose  doctrines  have  kept  in  the  king- 
dom, during  the  space  of  two  hundred  and  fit- 
ty  years,  the  sum  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  mil- 
lions of  livres,  which,  at  a.  moderate  calcula- 
tion, would  otherwise  have  gone  to  Rome  for 
indulgences,  and  annates,  and  otlier  such 
trash  ?  Who  was  the  politician,  the  Count  d' 
Avaux,  who,  while  he  wps  ambassador  in  Hol- 


land, from  1685  to  IGHS,  offered  to  prove  that 
the  refugees  had  carried  out  of  France  more 
than  twenty  millious  of  properly,  and  advised 
the  king  to  recall  it,  by  recalling  its  owners.' 
or  the  king,  who  refused  to  avail  himself  of 
this  advice?  AVho  was  the  politician,  the  in- 
tolerant Lewis,  who  drove  his  Protestant  sol- 
diers and  sailors  out  of  his  service?  or  the  be- 
nevolent prince  of  Orange,  wlio  in  one  year, 
raised  three  regiments  of  I-'rench  refugee  sol- 
diers, commanded  by  their  own  oflicers,  and 
manned  thiee  vessels,  at  the  same  time,  with 
refugee  sailors,  to  serve  the  Dutch,  while 
France  wanted  men  to  equip  her  fleets  ?  The 
Protestants,  having  been  for  .«ome  time,  exclu- 
ded from  all  offices,  and  not  being  suffered  to 
enjoy  any  civil  or  military  emjiloyments,  had 
applied  themselves  cither  to  tlie  mnnulactures, 
or  to  the  imjiroviiig  of  their  money  in  trade. 
Was  it  policy  to  banisli  a  Mons.  A  incent,  who 
employed  more  than  five  liimdred  workmen  .•" 
Was  it  policy  on  the  side  of  that  prince,  who 
demolished  manufactories?  or  on  the  side  of 
those  who  set  them  up,  by  receiving  the  i-efu- 
gee  manufacturers  into  their  kingdoms?  Had 
England  derived  no  more  advantage  from  its 
hospitality  to  the  refugees  tlian  the  silk  manu- 
facture, it  would  liave  amply  repaid  the  nation. 
The  memorials  of  the  intendants  of  tlie  provin- 
ces were  full  of  such  complaints.  [1G9C.]  The 
intendant  of  Piouen  said  that  the  refugees  had 
carried  away  the  manufacture  of  hats.  The 
intendant  of  Poitiers  said  that  they  Iiad  taken 
the  manufacture  of  druggets.  In  some  provin- 
ces the  commerce  was  diminished  several  mil- 
lions of  livres  in  a  year,  and  in  some  ball'  the 
revenue  was  sunk.  \Vas  it  policy  in  the  king 
to  provoke  the  Protestant  states,  and  princes, 
Avho  had  always  been  his  faithful  allies  against 
the  house  of  Austria,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to 
supply  them  v/ifheiglithunthed  thousand  new 
subjects?  After  all,  it  was  a  wewA- and /oo/- 
ish  step,  for  the  Protestants  were  not  extirpa- 
ted. There  remained  almost  as  many  in  the 
kingdom  as  were  driven  out  of  it,  and,  even  at 
this  day,  though  now  and  then  a  preacher 
hath  been  hanged,  and  now  and  then  a  family 
murdered,  yet  the  oiiulent  pi'ovince  of  Langue- 
doc  is  full  of  Protestants,  the  Lutherans  have 
the  university  of  Alsace,  neither  art  nor  cruel- 
t)'  can  rid  the  kingdom  of  them  ;  and  some  of 
the  greatest  ornaments  of  France,  now  plead 

for  a  FREE  TOI.ERATIOW. 

The  refugees  charge  tlieir  banishment  on 
the  clergy  of  France,  and  they  give  very  good 
proof  of  their  assertion,  nor  do  they  mistake, 
when  they  affirm  that  their  sufferings  are  a 
part  of  the  religion  of  Rome  ;  for  Pope  Inno- 
cent XI.  highly  approved  of  tliis  persecution. 
He  wrote  a  brief  to  the  king,  in  which  he  as- 
sured him  that  what  he  had  done  against  the 
heretics  of  his  kingdom  would  be  immortalized 
by  the  eulogies  of  tlie  Catholic  church.  He 
delivered  a  discourse  in  the  consistory,  in 
which  he  said,  lite  most  Christian  king^s  seal 
and  PIETY,  did  wonderfully  appear  in  extirpa- 
ting heresy,  and  in  rlrnring  his  irluile  king- 
dom of  if  in  a  very  few  months.  [March  18, 
I6ii9.]  He  ordered  Te  Deum  to  be  sung,  i» 
give  thanks  (o  God  for  this  return  of  tlie  he- 


XXll 


MEMOIRS  OF  THE 


retics  into  the  pale  of  the  cluirch,  wliich  was 
accordingly  done  with  great  pomp.  [Ap.  28.] 
If  this  persecution  wore  clerical  policy,  it  was 
bad,  and,  if  it  were  the  religion  of  the  French 
clergy,  it  was  worse.  In  eitlier  case  the  church 
procured  great  evil  to  the  state.  Lewis  XIV. 
was  on  the  pinnacle  of  glory  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  peace  of  r^imeguen.  [1679.]  His  do- 
minion was,  as  it  were,  established  over  all 
Europe,  and  was  become  an  inevitable  preju- 
dice to  neighbouring  nations ;  but,  here  he  be- 
*an  to  extirpate  heresy,  and  here  he  began  to 
fall,  nor  has  the  nation  ever  recovered  its  gran- 
deur since. 

Protestant  powers  opened  their  arms  to  these 
Tenerable  exiles.  Abbadie,  Ancillon,  and 
others  fled  to  Berlin.  Bainage,  Claude,  Du 
Bosc,  and  many  more,  found  refuge  in  Holland. 
The  famous  Dr.  Allix,  with  numbers  of  his 
lirethren,  came  to  England.  A  great  many  fa- 
milies went  to  Geneva,  among  which  v/as  that 
of  Saurin. 

IVIr.  Saurin,  the  father  of  our  author,  was  an 
eminent  Protestant  lawyer  at  Nismes,  who, 
after  the  repeal  of  the  edict  of  Nantz,  retired 
to  Geneva.  [16fi5.]  He  was  considered  at 
Geneva  a^  tlie  oracle  of  the  French  language, 
the  nature  and  licauty  of  wljich  he  thoroughly 
understood.  He  had  four  sons,  whom  he 
trained  up  in  learning,  and  who  were  all  so  re- 
markably eloquent,  that  eloquence  was  said  to 
be  hereditary  in  the  family.  The  Reverend 
Lewis  Saurin,  one  of  the  sons,  was  afterwards 
pastor  of  a  French  church  in  London.  Saurin, 
the  father,  died  at  Geneva.  James,  the  author 
of  the  following  sermons,  was  born  at  Nismes, 
[1677.]  and  went  with  his  father  into  exile,  to 
Geneva,  where  he  profited  very  much  in  learn- 
in». 

In  the  seventeenth  year  of  his  age,  [1694.] 
Saurin  quitted  his  studies  to  go  into  the  army, 
and  made  a  campaign  as  cadet  in  lord  Gallo- 
way's company.  Tlie  next  year,  [169.5.]  his 
captain  gave  him  a  pair  of  colours  in  his  regi- 
ment, which  then  served  in  Piedmont :  but  the 
year  after,  [1696.]  the  duke  of  Savoy,  under 
whom  Saurin  served,  having  made  his  peace 
with  France,  Saurin  quitted  the  profession  of 
arms,  for  which  he  was  never  designed,  and  re- 
turned to  Geneva  to  study. 

Geneva  was,  at  that  time,  the  residence  of 
some  of  the  best  scholars  in  Europe,  who  Avere 
in  the  highest  estimation  in  the  republic  of  let- 
ters. Pictet,  Lewis  Tronchin,  and  Philip  ?*Ies- 
trezat,  were  professors  of  divinity  there,  Al- 
phonso  Turetin  was  professor  of  sacred  history, 
and  Chouet,  who  was  afterward  taken  from  his 
professorship,  and  ailmitted  into  the  govern- 
ment of  the  repul)lic,  was  professor  of  natural 
philosophy.  The  other  departments  were  filled 
with  men  epually  eminent  in  their  several  pro- 
fessions. Some  of  them  were  natives  of  Ge- 
neva, others  were  exile?  from  Italy  and  France, 
several  of  them  were  of  noble  families,  and  all 
of  them  were  m^n  of  eminent  piety.  Under 
these  great  masters,  Saurin  became  a  student, 
and  particularly  applied  himself  to  divinity,  as 
he  now  began  to  think  of  devoting  himself  to 
the  ministry.  [  160(1.  |  To  dedicate  one's  self 
to  the  ministry  in  a  wealthy  nourishing  cliurch, 


where  rich  benefices  are  every  day  becoming 
vacant,  requires  very  little  virtue,  and  some- 
times only  a  strong  propensity  to  rice  :  but  to 
choose  to  be  a  minister,  in  such  a  poor,banished, 
persecuted  church,  as  that  of  the  French  Pro- 
testants, argues  a  noble  contempt  of  the  world, 
and  a  supreme  love  to  God,  and  to  the  souls  of 
men.  These  are  the  best  testimonials,  how- 
ever, of  a  young  minister,  whose  profession  is 
not  to  enrich,  but  to  'save  himself,  and  them 
who  hear  him.'   1.  Tim.  iv.  16. 

After  Mr.  Saurin  had  finished  his  studies, 
[1700.]  he  visited  Holland,  and  England.  In 
the  first  he  made  a  very  short  stay  :  but  in  the 
last  he  staid  almost  five  years,  and  preached 
with  great  acceptance  among  his  fellow  exiles 
in  London.  Of  his  person  an  idea  may  be  for- 
med by  the  annexed  copperplate,*  which  is  said 
to  be  a  great  likeness,  and  tor  which  I  am  in- 
debted to  my  ingenious  friend,  Mr.  Thomas 
HoUoway,  as  I  am  to  his  amiable  brother,  Mr, 
John  HoUoway,  for  several  anecdotes  of  Sau- 
rin. His  dress  was  that  of  the  French  clergy, 
the  gown  and  cassock.  His  address  was  per- 
fectly genteel,  a  happy  compound  of  the  affa- 
ble and  the  grave,  at  an  equal  distance  from 
rusticity  and  foppery.  His  voice  was  strong, 
clear,  and  harmonious,  and  he  never  lost  the 
management  of  it.  His  style  was  pure,  unaf- 
fected, and  eloquent,  sometimes  plain,  and 
sometimes  flowery  :  but  never  improper  as  it 
was  always  adapted  to  the  audience  for  whose 
sake  he  spoke.  An  Italian  acquaintance  of 
mine,  who  often  heard  him  at  the  Hague,  tells 
me,  that  in  the  introductions  of  his  sermons,  he 
used  to  deliver  himself  in  a  tone,  modest  and 
low ;  in  the  body  of  the  sermon,  which  was 
adapted  to  the  understanding,  he  was  plain, 
clear,  and  argumentative,  pausing  at  the  close 
of  each  period,  that  he  might  discover,  by  the 
countenances  and  motions  of  his  hearers,  wheth- 
er they  were  convinced  by  his  reasoning;  in 
his  addresses  to  the  wicked,  (and  it  is  a  folly  to 
preach  as  if  there  were  none  in  our  assemblies, 
Mr.  Saurin  knew  mankind  too  well)  he  was  of- 
ten sonorous,  but  oftener  a  weeping  suppliant 
at  their  feet.  In  the  one,  he  sustained  the  au- 
thoritative dignity  of  his  office,  in  the  other  he 
expressed  his  master's,  and  his  own  benevo- 
lence to  bad  men,  '  praying  them  in  Christ's 
stead  to  be  reconciled  to  God.'  2.  Cor.  v.  20. 
In  general,  adds  my  friend,  his  preaching  re- 
sembled a  plentiful  shower  of  dew,  softly  and 
imperceptibly  insinuating  itself  into  the  minds 
of  his  numerous  hearers,  as  dew  into  the  pores 
of  plants,  till  the  whole  church  was  dissolved, 
and  all  in  tears  under  his  sermons.  His  doc- 
trine was  that  of  the  French  Protestants,  which 
at  that  time  was  moderate  Calvinism.  He 
approved  of  the  discipline  of  his  own  churches, 
which  was  Presbyterian.  He  was  an  admira- 
ble scholar,  and  which  were  his  highest  enco- 
miums, he  had  an  unconquerable  aversion  to 
sin,  a  supreme  love  to  God,  and  to  the  souls  of 
men,  and  a  holy  unblemished  life.     Certainly 

*  The  engraving  accompanying  this  volume 
is  an  exact  fac-simile  from  the  one  in  the  Lon- 
don edition,  alluded  to  in  the  teit. 


REFORMATION  IN  FRANCE. 


XXIII 


he  had  some  faults :  biit,  as  I  never  heard  of 
any,  I  can  publish  none. 

During  his  stay  in  England,  he  married  a 
Miss  Catherine  Boyton,  by  whom  he  had  a 
son,  [1703.]  named  Philip,  who  survived  him  ; 
but  whether  he  had  any  more  children  1  know 
not.  Two  years  after  his  marriage,  [1705.]  he 
returned  to  Holland,  where  he  had  a  mind  to 
settle :  but  the  pastoral  offices  being  all  full, 
and  meeting  witli  no  prospect  of  a  settlement, 
though  his  preaching  was  received  with  uni- 
versal applause,  he  was  preparing  to  return  to 
England,  when  a  chaplainship  to  some  of  the 
nobility  at  the  Hague,  with  a  stipend,  was  of- 
fered to  him.  This  situation  exactly  suited  his 
wishes,  and  he  accepted  the  place.  [1705.] 

The  Hague,  it  is  said,  is  the  finest  village  in 
Europe.  It  is  the  residence  of  the  States  Ge- 
neral, of  ambassadors,  and  envoys  from  other 
courts,  of  a  great  number  of  nobility  and  gen- 
try, and  of  a  multitude  of  French  refugees. 
The  princes  of  Orange  have  a  spacious  palace 
here,  and  tlie  chapel  of  the  palace  was  given 
to  the  refugees  for  a  place  of  public  worship, 
and,  it  being  too  small  to  contain  them,  it  was 
enlarged  by  above  half.  The  French  church 
called  him  to  be  one  of  their  pastors.  He  ac- 
cepted the  call,  and  continued  in  his  office  till 
his  death.  He  was  constantly  attended  by  a 
very  crowded  and  brilliant  audience,  was 
heard  with  the  utmost  attention  and  pleasure, 
and,  what  few  ministers  can  say,  the  effects  of 
his  ministerial  labours  were  seen  in  the  holy 
lives  of  great  numbers  of  his  people. 

When  the  prmcess  of  Wales,  afterward 
Queen  Caroline,  passed  through  Holland,  in 
her  way  to  England,Mr.Saurin  had  the  honour 
of  paying  his  respects  to  that  illustrious  lady. 
Her  royal  highness  was  pleased  to  single  him 
out  from  the  rest  of  the  clergy,  who  were  pre- 
sent, and  to  say  to  him.  Do  not  imagine  that, 
being  dazzled  icith  the  glory  which  this  rerolu- 
tion  seems  lo  promise  me,  I  have  lost  sight  of 
that  God  from  u-hom  it  proceeds.  He  hath 
been  pleased  to  distinguish  it  unth  so  many  ex- 
traordinarj/  marks,  that  I  cannot  mistake  his 
divine  hand  ;  and  as  I  consider  this  long  train 
of  favours  as  immediately  coming  from  him,  to 
Him  alone  I  consecrate  them.  It  is  not  aston- 
ishing, if  Saurin  speaks  of  this  condescension 
with  rapture.  They  are  the  kind  and  Chris- 
tian acts  of  the  governors  of  a  free  people,  and 
not  the  haughty  airs  of  a  French  tyrant,  insult- 
ing his  slaves,  that  attach  and  inflame  the 
hearts  of  mankind.  The  history  of  this  illus- 
trious Christian  queen  is  not  written  in  blood, 
and  therefore  it  is  always  read  with  tears  of 
grateful  joy. 

Her  royal  higliness  was  so  well  satisfied  of 
Mr.  Saurin's  merit,  that  soon  after  her  arrival 
in  England,  she  ordered  Dr.  Boulter,  who  was 
preceptor  to  prince  Frederic,  the  father  of 
his  present  majesty,  to  write  to  Saurin,  to 
draw  up  a  treatise  on  the  education  of  princes. 
Saurin  immediately  obeyed  the  order  and  pre- 
fixed a  dedication  to  the  young  princes.  The 
book  was  never  printed  :  but,  as  it  obtained  the 
approbation  of  the  princess  of  Wales,  who  was 
an  incomparable  judge,  we  may  conclude  that 
it  was  excellent  in  its  kind.     This  was  follow- 


ed by  a  handsome  present  from  the  princessjto 
the  author.  His  most  considerable  work  wa» 
entitled  Discourses  historical,  critical  and  mo- 
ral, on  the  most  memorable  events  of  the  Old  and 
JS'ew  Testament.  This  work  was  undertaken 
by  the  desire  of  a  Dutch  merchant,  who  ex- 
pended an  immense  sum  in  the  engraving  a 
multitude  of  copper  plates,  which  adorn  the 
work.  It  consists  of  six  folio  volumes.  Mr. 
Saurin  died  before  the  third  was  finished  :  but 
Mr.  Roques  finished  the  third,  and  added  a 
fourth  on  the  OldTestament:  and  Mr.  de  Beau- 
sobre  subjoined  two  on  the  New  Testament. 
The  whole  is  replete  with  very  extensive  learn- 
ing, and  well  worth  the  carelul  perusal  of  stu- 
dents in  divinity.  The  first  of  these  was  trans- 
lated into  English  by  Chamberlayne,  soon  after 
its  first  publication  in  French. 

His  Dissertatioji  on  the  expediency  of  some- 
times disguising  the  truth,  raised  a  furious  cla- 
mour against  our  author  :  he  does  not  decide  the 
question  :  but  he  seems  to  take  the  affirmative. 
This  produced  a  paper  war,  and  his  antago- 
nists unjustly  censured  his  morals.  The  mild- 
ness of  his  disposition  rendered  him  a  desirable 
opponent,  for  though  he  was  sure  to  conquer, 
yet  he  subdued  his  adversary  so  handsomely, 
that  the  captive  was  the  better  for  his  defeat. 
But  others  did  not  controvert  Avith  so  much 
temper.  Some  wrote  against  him,  others  for 
him.  At  length  the  synod  decided  the  dispute 
in  his  favor. 

He  published  a  small,  but  valuable  piece  on 
The  state  of  Christianity  in  France.  It  treats 
of  many  important  points  of  religion,  in 
controversy  between  the  Cathohcs  and  Protest-- 
ants. 

There  are  twelve  volumes  of  his  sermon?. 
Some  are  dedicated  to  his  Majesty  George  II. 
and  the  king  was  pleased  to  allow  him  a  hand- 
some pension.  Some  to  her  majesty  Queers 
Caroline,  while  she  was  princess  of  Wales, 
One  to  Count  Wassanaer,  a  Dutch  nobleman. 
Two  were  dedicated  to  his  Majesty,  after  his 
decease,  by  his  son.  Professor  Dumont,  and 
Mr.  Husson,  to  whom  Mr.  Saurin  left  his  manu- 
scripts, published  the  rest,  and  one  volume  is 
dedicated  to  the  Countess  Dowager  of  Albe- 
marle. The  English  seem  therefore,  to  have'  a 
right  to  the  labours  of  this  great  man. 

Mr.  Saurin  died  at  the  Hague,  on  Dec.  30th, 
1730,  most  sincerely  regretted  by  all  his  ac- 
quaintances, as  well  as  by  his  church,  who 
lost  in  him  a  truly  primitive  Christian  minis- 
ter, who  spent  his  life,  in  watching  over  his 
flock,  as  one  who  knew  that  he  must  give  an 
account. 

In  regard  to  this  translation,  it  was  first  un- 
dertaken by  the  desire  of  a  small  circle  of  pri- 
vate friends,  for  our  mutual  edification.  If  I 
have  suffered  my  private  opinion  to  be  prevail 
ed  over  by  others,  to  print  this  translation,  it  is 
not  because  I  think  myself  able  to  give  lan- 
guage to  Saurin  :  but  because  I  humbly  hope 
that  the  sentiments  of  the  author  may  be  con- 
veyed to  the  reader,  by  this  translation.  His 
sentiments,  I  think,  are,  in  general,  those  of 
the  holy  Scrir>ture,  and  his  manner  of  treating 
Ihem  well  adapted  to  impress  them  on  the 
heart.     I  liave  endeavoured  not  to  disguise  hi? 


XXIV 


MEMOIRS,  &«. 


meuniiig,  though  I  havo  not  been  able  to  adopt 
his  S'tyle,  lor  which  delect,  though  I  print  them 
by  private  subscription,  for  the  use  of  my 
friends,  on  v/hose  candour  I  depend,  yet  1  do  not 
offer  to  publish  them  to  the  world,  for  the  lan- 
guage of  Mr.  Saurin.  I  should  have  been  glad 
to  have  pleased  every  subsci'iber,  by  inserting 
those  seinions,  which  were  most  agreeable  to 
liim,  liad  I  known  Avhich  they  were  :  but  as 
this  was  impossible,  I  have  followed  my  own 
judgment,  or  perhaps  exposed  my  want  of  it. 
The  first  volume  aims  to  secure  tlie  doctrine  of 
R  God,  against  the  attacks  of  atheists.  In  the 
•econd,  we  mean  to  plead  for  the  holy  Scrip- 


tures against  Deists.  In  the  third,  we  intend 
to  take  those  sermons,  which  treat  of  the  doc- 
trines of  Christ lanili/,  as  we  humbly  conceiye 
that  the  NewTestament  is  something  more  than 
a  system  of  moral  philosophy.  And  the  last 
volume,  we  dedicate  to  vioral  subjects,  because 
we  think  Christianity  a  holy  religion,  produc- 
tive of  moral  obedience  in  all  its  true  disciples. 
May  the  God  of  all  grace  bless  the  reading  of 
them  to  the  weakening  of  the  dominion  of  sin, 
and  to  the  advancement  of  the  kiugdom  of  our 
blessed  Redeemer,  Jesus  Christ. 

Ch^j'erlon       )  ^    ROBINSON 

Mprii  loth,  17/0.  i 


SERHONS 


HISV.     JAMES     SAUHZN, 


TRANSLATED 


BY  THE  REV.  ROBERT  ROBINSON. 


PREFACE, 

BY    TBS    REV.    ROBERT    ROBZNSOXf. 


1-  HAT  spirit  of  inquiry  which  produced 
the  Reformation,  operated  in  France,  as  in 
other  countries,  and  gave  being  to  an  endless 
variety  of  different  sentiments  of  rehgion. 
All  the  reformers,  however,  agreed  in  one 
grand  article,  that  is,  in  substituting  the  au- 
thority of  the  holy  Scriptures  in  the  place  of 
the  infallibihty  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome. 

The  elevation  of  an  obscure  book,  (for  such 
to  the  shame  of  Popery  the  Bible  had  been,) 
to  the  dignity  of  a  supreme  judge,  whose  de- 
cisions were  final,  and  from  whicn  there  lay  no 
appeal,  naturally  excited  the  attention  of  some 
who  were  capable,  and  of  many  who  thought 
themselves  so,  to  examine  the  authenticity  of 
so  extraordinary  a  book.  At  the  Reformation, 
the  infallibility  of  the  Pope  was  the  popular 
inquiry ;  and,  after  it,  the  infallibility  of  Jesus 
Christ  came  under  consideration.  Curiosity 
and  conscience  concurred  to  search,  and  seve- 
ral circumstances  justified  the  inquiry. 

Many  spurious  books  had  been  propagated 
in  the  world  :  the  Jewish  nation,  and  the  Ro- 
mish church,  paid  as  much  regard  to  tradition 
as  to  the  holy  Scriptures :  Protestants  derived 
different,  and  even  contrary  doctrines,  from 
the  same  Scriptures  ;  the  authenticity  of  some 
books  of  both  Testaments  had  never  been  uni- 
versally acknowledged,  and  the  points  in  liti- 
gation were  of  the  last  importance.  These 
considerations  excited  the  industry  of  a  multi- 
tude of  critics.  One  examined  the  chronolo- 
gy of  the  Bible,  another  the  geography  of  it, 
a  third  its  natural  philosophy,  a  fourth  its  his- 
tory ;  one  tried  its  purity  by  the  rules  of 
grammar,  another  measured  its  style  by  the 
laws  of  rhetoric  ;  and  a  most  severe  scrutiny 
the  book  underwent, 

Nothing  came  to  pass  in  this  inquiry  but 
what  might  have  been  expected.  Some  de- 
fended the  book  by  solid,  and  some  by  silly  ar- 
guments ;  while  others  reprobated  it,  as  void 
of  any  rational  proof  at  all.  There  are  pre- 
requisites essential  to  the  investigation  of 
truth,  and  it  is  hardly  credible,  that,  all  who 
emamined,  or  who  pretended  to  examine  the  di- 
vinity ofthe  Christian  canon,  possessed  them. 

No  sooner  had  Charles  IX.  published  the 
first  edict  of  pacification  in  France,  in  15G2, 
than  there  appeared  at  Lyons  along  with 
mady  other  sects,  a  party  who  called  them- 
selves Deists.  The  edict  provided  that  no 
person  should  be  prosecuted  on  account  of 
matters  of  conscience,  and  this  sect  claimed* 
the  benefit  of  it. 

Deists  differ  so  much  from  one  another,  that 
it  is  hard  to  define  the  term  Deism,  and  to  say 
precisely  what  the  word    stands  for.     Dr. 


Samuel  Clarke  takes  the  denomination  in  the 
most  extensive  signification,  and  distinguish-- 
es  Deists  m\.o  four  classes. 

'  The  first  class  believe  the  existence  of  a 
Supreme  Being,  who  made  the  world,  but 
who  does  not  at  all  concern  himself  in  th& 
management  of  it 

'  The  second  consists  pf  those  who  believe^  ^ 
not  only  the  being,  but  also  the  providence  of 
God  with  respect  to  the  natural  world  ;  but 
who,  not  allowing  any  difference  between  mor- 
al good  and  evil,  deny  that  God  takes  any  no- 
tice ofthe  morally  good  or  evil  actions  of  men ;. 
these  things  depending,  as  they  imao-ine,  on 
the  arbitrary  constitution  of  human  laws. 

'  The  third  sort,  having  right  apprehensions 
concerning  the  natural  attributes  of  God, 
nd  his  all-governing  Providence,  and  some 
notion  of  his  moral  perfections  a.\so,  yet  beinof 
prejudiced  against  the  notion  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  human  soul,  believe  that  mea 
perish  entirely  at  death,  and  that  one  genera- 
tion shall  perpetually  succeed  another,  with- 
out any  future  restoration,  or  renovation  of 
things. 

'  The  fourth  consists  of  those  who  believe 
the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Being,  together 
with  his  providence  in  the  government  ofthe 
world,  as  also  the  obligations  of  natural  reli- 
gion :  but  SO  far  only  as  these  things  are  dis- 
coverable by  the  light  of  nature  alone,  with- 
out believing  any  divine  revelation.  These 
last  are  the  only  true  Deists !' 

The  rise  of  the  Deists,  along  with  that  of 
other  sects  and  parties  among  the  reformed 
churches  seemed  to  confirm  one  argument  of 
the  Roman  Catholics  against  the  Reformation. 
When  the  Reformers  had  pleaded  for  the  suf- 
ficiency of  revelation,  and  for  the  private  right 
of  judging  of  its  meaning,  the  divines  of  the 
church  of^Rome  had  always  replied,  that  una- 
nimity in  the  faith  is  the  test  of  the  true 
church  of  Christ ;  that  the  church  of  Rome 
had  always  enjoyed  such  a  unity :  that  the 
allowance  of  liberty  of  conscience  would  pro- 
duce innumerable  opinions ;  that  people  of 
tiie  same  sentiments  would  associate  for  the 
support  and  propagation  of  their  pretended 
faith  :  and  that,  consequently,  religious  parties 
would  counteract  one  another,  to  the  entire 
subversion  of  Christianity  itself  Hence  they 
inferred  the  absurdity  of  that  principle  on 
which  Protestan*.'"'m  stood,  and  the  absolute 
necessity  of  a  living  infallible  judge  of  reli- 
gious truths.  The  event  above-mentioned 
seemed  to  confirm  this  reasoning. 

When  these  ideas  entered  the  mind  of  a 
man  of  fruitful  genius  in  the  chuxcih  of  Rome; 


XXVI 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


they  operated  in  the  most  eccentric  manner 
imaginable.  A  popular  orator,  or,  who  did 
ten  times  more  mischief,  a  court-chaplain, 
would  collect  a  few  real  improprieties  among 
Protestants,  subjoin  a  thousand  more  irregu- 
larities of  his  own  invention,  mere  creatures  of 
his  superstitious  fancy,  paint  them  in  colours 
the  most  frightful,  exhibit  them  to  pubhc  view 
under  images  the  most  tragical,  ascribe  them 
all  to  that  horrid  monster— the  right  of  private 
judgment,  and  by  these  means  to  endeavour 
to  establish  the  old  system,  that  destroyed 
men's  lives,  on  the  ruins  of  that  new  one, 
which  benevolently  proposed  to  save  them. 

The  weaker  protestants  were  intimidated 
by  this  vile  bombast ;  and  the  wiser,  who  had 
been  educated  Papists,  that  is  to  say,  whose 
tender  minds  had  been  perverted  with  a  bad 
philosophy,  and  a  worse  divinity,  were  hard 
pressed  with  this  idle  argument.  The  famous 
Peter  Viret,  who  was  pastor  of  the  reformed 
church  at  Lyons,  at  this  first  appearance  of 
the  Deists,  not  only  wrote  against  them ;  but, 
we  are  sorry  to  say,  he  did  more,  he  joined 
with  the  archbishop's  vicar  in  persecuting 
them.  What  a  motley  figure  !  The  voice  of 
Jacob,  and  the  hands  of  Esau  ! 

Some  of  the  more  candid  Protestants  con- 
tented themselves  with  making  two  observa- 
tions, which  they  thought  were  sufficient  to 
answer  the  objections  of  Rome  on  this  article. 
First,  they  said,  It  is  not  true  that  there  are 
no  religious  controversies  in  the  church  of 
Rome  ;  there  are  two  hundred  and  thirty- 
beven  contrarieties  of  doctrine  among  the  Ro- 
mish divines  Secondly,  if  it  were  true,  the 
ijuiet  of  the  members  of  that  church  would 
Hot  prove  their  unity  in  the  faith.  A  negative 
ilnanimity,  that  is,  a  freedom  from  religious 
differences,  may  proceed  from  ignorance,  neg- 
ligence, or  fear :  the  two  first  resemble  the 
quiet  of  night,  where  all  are  asleep :  or 
the  stillness  of  a  church-yard,  where  all  are 
dead  ;  and  the  last  the  taciturnity  of  a  slave 
under  a  tyrant's  rod.  These  observations 
were  not  impertinent,  for  although  none  of 
our  disputes  are  managed  without  humbling 
Biarks  of  human  infirmity,  yet,  on  a  cool  bal- 
ance of  accounts,  it  will  appear,  that  the  mor- 
al good  produced  by  liberty  of  conscience  is 
far  greater  than  the  moral  evil  suffered.  Pee- 
vish tempers,  and  puerile  mistakes  mix  with 
free  inquiry ;  but  without  inquiry  fair  and 
free  we  should  have  no  religion  at  all. 

Had  the  Protestants  done  only  that  with  the 
writings  of  Moses  and  Paul,  which  they  did 
with  the  writings  of  Homer  and  Tacitus,  had 
they  fetched  them  out  of  dusty  holes  in  libra- 
ries, exposed  them  to  public  view,  and  left 
them  to  shift  for  tliemselve3,tlieirauthenticitv, 
we  presumCjWould  have  sinned  with  inimitable 
lustre  ;  for  fewer  objections  have  lain  against 
the  book,  than  against  the  methods  that  have 
been  used  to  enforce  it.  But  that  fatal  notion 
of  uniformity,  this  absurd  dogma,  unity  in  the 
faith  is  the  test  of  a  true  church,  misled  those 
worthy  men,  and  they  adopted  the  spirit  of 
persecution,  that  child  of  tlie  "mother  of 
abominations,"  Rev.  xvii.  5,  whom  folly  had 
produced,  and  whom  cruelty  had  hitherto 
maintained. 

In  .order  to  vie  with  the  church  of  Rome 
yn  point  oJ'unifl'T.-.nnty,  nndtocxc^-'l  it- in  point 


of  truth,  the  reformers  extracted,  what  they 
supposed,  the  sense  of  Scripture ;  not  on  plain; 
obvious,  essential  truths  ;  but  on  doctrines  ex- 
tremely perplexed  and  difficult ;  these  extracts 
they  called  Confessions  of  Faith  ;  these  they 
signed ;  and  all  who  refused  to  sign  them 
they  disovimed,  and  persecuted  out  of  their 
communities. 

Having  done  these  things  not  according  to 
the  pattern  showed  by  theii*  divine  Master,  ia 
his  plain  and  peaceful  sermon  on  the  Mount 
of  Olives,  Heb.  viii.  5,  but  according  to  the 
arcana  imperii  of  "  the  woman  who  sitteth 
on  seven  mountains  and  who  reigneth  over 
the  kings  of  the  earth,"  Rev.  xvii.  9,  Id,  they 
boasted  of  enjoying  as  good  a  uniformity  as 
that  of  which  the  Catholic  church  vaunted. 

If  they,  who  first  prosecuted  these  unrighte- 
ous measures  in  the  Protestant  churches,  could 
have  foreseen  the  dismal  consequences  of  them, 
surely  they  must  have  lain  in  sackcloth  and 
ashes,  to  lament  their  anti-christiah  zeal, 
which,  by  importing  eXotics  from  Rome,  hj 
planting  them  in  reformed  churches,  and  by 
flittering  the  magistracy  into  the  dirty  work, 
of  cultivating  them,  spoiled  the  growth  of  rea- 
son and  religion,  and  cherished,  imder  theit 
deleterious  shade,  nothing  but  that  unprofita- 
ble weed,  implicit  faith. 

Let  a  dispassionate  spectator  cast  his  ey& 
on  the  Christian  world,  and,  when  he  has  seen 
the  rigoroUs  measures  that  have  beerl  used  to 
establish,  as  it  is  called,  the  faith  of  the  Re- 
formers, let  him  turn  his  eye  to  the  church  of 
Rome  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  sectaries  on  the 
other,  and  attend  to  the  consequences  of  these 
measures  among  both.  Catholics  laugh  at 
Protestant  arguments  against  the  infallibility 
of  the  Bishop  of  Rome.  See,  say  they,  mu- 
tant clypeus,  the  reformed  have  destroyed  one 
Pope  to  create  a  hundred.  Calvin  is  infalli- 
ble at  Geneva,  Luther  in  Germany,  in  Eng- 
land Cranmer,  and  in  Scotland  Knox  !  How 
wise  the  doctrine  of  infallibility  !  how  just 
and  necessary  the  practice  of  the  Inquisition ', 
The  pretended  Protestants  have  tried  in  vain 
to  govern  churches  without  severity  ;  they 
themselves,  who  have  exclaimed  the  most  vi- 
olently against  it,  have  been  obliged  to  adopt 
it.  Sectaries,  on  the  other  hand,  avail  them- 
selves of  these  practices,  and  not  distinguish- 
ing between  Christianity  itself  and  the  pro- 
fessors of  it,  charge  that  on  the  laws  of  our 
prince,  which  is  chargeable  only  on  the  inad- 
vertency of  his  subjects. 

Other  times,  other  manners  !  Whether  the 
reproaches  of  the  Papists,  tiie  increase  of  learn- 
ing, piety,  and  experience,  or  whatever  else 
have  meliorated  the  reformed  churches,  the 
French  Protestants  rarely  persecute;  and  when 
they  do,  it  is  plain,  they  do  that  as  a  body  in 
a  synod,  which  not  one  of  them  would  dare 
to  avow  as  a  private  divine.  Dangerous  dis- 
tinction !  Should  an  Upright  man  vote  for  u 
measure  which  he  would  blush  to  enforce  i 
Should  he  not  endeavour  to  abrogate  canons, 
which,  for  the  soul  of  him  he  has  not  impiety 
^enough  to  execute.'  Shall  Protestants  renounce 
that  merchandise  of  Rome,  which  consists  of 
odours,  and  ointments,  and  chariots,  and  pur- 
ple, and  silli,  and  sairlct,  and  continue  that 
more  scandalous  traffic  which  consists  of 
'•sjaves  uiid  sou's  'A'nv^n':''  Rev.  .will.  ISvlTV 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


XXVll 


•'  If  a  counsel,  or  a  work,  be  of  God,  ye  can- 
not ovei  throw  it,"  Acts  v.  3;{,  39,  is  one  of 
the  surest  axioms  iti  the  world  ;  and  if  there 
be  such  a  thins;  in  the  world  as  dignity,  that 
is,  propriety  of  character,  it  must  be  in  that 
Christian,  who,  disdaining;  every  carnal  wea- 
pon, maintains  the  truth  of  his  religion  by 
placid  reasoning,  and  by  a  holy  life.  Other 
influence  is  unscriptural,  and  unnatural  too. 
We  may  admire  the  genius  of  a  Ue'st,  avail 
ourselves  of  Ills  learning,  and  laraant  his  abu?e 
of  both:  bat  we  may  not  touch  his  person, 
his  property,  his  liberty,  his  charact'5r,  his 
peace.  "  To  his  own  Matter  he  standetii  or 
fallnth."  Roai.  xiv.  4. 

We  beg  leave  to  subjoin  three  observations 
in  regard  to  deism.  Deists  are  not  so  nume- 
rous a?  some  have  imagined.  Real  Christians 
have  occasioned  violent  prejudices  against 
Christianity.  Very  lew  Daisls  have  taken  up 
the  argument  on  its  true  grounds  ;  and  they, 
who  have,  could  not  support  it. 

Deists  are  not  so  nunifrous  as  some,  have  tm- 
agined.  Mons.  de  Voltaire  has  thought  pro- 
per to  inform  his  countrymen,  in  his  Additions 
to  his  Gcntral  Hisinri/,  that  '  Deism,  wJiich 
Cliarles  II.  seemed  openly  to  [jrof^-ss,  became 
the  reigning  religion'  in  England:  thi't  'the 
sect  is  become  very  numerous:'  and  that  'a 
num'ier  of  eminent  writers  have  made  open 
profession  of  lieism.'  How  this  agreeable 
French  writer  came  to  know  this,  who  can  tell, 
if,  as  he  affirms  a  httlc  lower,  '  Deists  allow 
a  diversity  of  opinions  in  other:=,  and  seldom 
discover  their  own  ;'  and,  if  Deists  have  only 
a  private  form  of  worship,  each  worshipping 
God  in  his  own  house,  and  assisting  without 
scruple  at  all  public  cercnionies.'  Surely 
Mons.  Vo'.taire  mistook,  he  meant  to  describe 
a  hypocrite,  atid  not  a  Deist. 

If  a  Deist  be  one  who,  having  examined  t'le 
religion  of  nature,  and  the  religion  of  .Scrip- 
ture, gives  the  preference  to  the  I'ormer,  and 
rejects  the  latter,  it  may  be  affirmed,  I  think, 
that  the  num'jsr  of  Deists  is  very  small.  In  a 
comparative  viev/,  the  number  is  too  incon- 
siderable to  be  mentioned.  The  rank  of  a 
Herbert,  the  wit  of  a  Shaftesbury,  the  style 
of  a  Bolingbtoke,  the  scurrilous  buffoonery  of 
a  Wonlston,  along  with  the  wisdom  and  piety 
of  the  Lockes,  and  Lelands,  and  Lardners, 
who  have  o[]po3ed  them,  have  given  a  name 
to  deism;  but  the  number  of  its  professors  is 
trifling,  and  of  no  account.  If  Mons.  de  Vol- 
taire meant  to  relate  an  historical  fact,  he 
ought  to  have  enumerated  the  vumcrous  pro- 
fessors of  Christianity,  ami  the  ernintnt  writers 
in  defence  of  it,  and  then  the  numerous  pro- 
fessors of  deism  would  have  diminished  and 
disappeared.  If  he  meant  to  give  a  sanction  to 
deism  on  account  of  its  numerous  defenders, 
he  is  a  fresh  example  of  that  weakness,  to 
which  great  philosophers  are  sometimes  sub- 
ject, the  weakness  of  saciificing  a  sound  logic 
to  a  silly  prejudice. 

Two  sorts  of  people  are  fond  of  multiplying 
Deists;  liigots,  and  Deists  lliemselves.  De- 
ists take  the  liberty  of  associating  with  them- 
selves Confucius,  Zoroajlcr,  Socrates,  and  all 
the  ancient  philosophers.     They  first  suppose 


that  these  philosophers  would  have  rejected 
revelation,  had  it  been  proposed  to  them,  and 
then  they  speak  of  them  as  if  they  had  actu- 
ally rejected  it.  But,  if  the  gospel  be  not  a 
system  ol  absurdity,  adajited  to  credulity,  the 
probability  is  greater  that  they  would  have  re- 
ceived, than  that  they  would  have  rejected  it; 
and  if,  as  Lord  Bolingliroke  says,  'il  must 
be  admitted,  that  Plato  insinuates,  in  many 
places,  the  want,  or  the  necessity  of  a  divine 
revelation,  to  discover  the  external  service 
God  requires,  and  the  expiation  for  sin,  and 
to  give  stronger  assurances  of  the  rewards  and 
punishments  that  await  men  in  another  world;' 
it  becomes  highly  probable,  that  Plato  would 
have  embraced  the  Christian  revelation;  atid 
were  the  testimony  of  Jesus  Christ  admissible, 
it  is  absolutely  certain,  that,  "•  il'  the  mighty 
works,  which  were  done  in  Judea,  had  been 
done  among  the  heathens,  many  heathens 
would  have  repented  of  Paganism  in  sackcloth 
and  ashes,"  Matt.  xi.  21,  &c.  To  the  army 
of  philosophers  they  add  all  those  Christians, 
who  do  not  understand,  or  who  do  not  prac- 
tise, the  dictates  of  Christianity.  With  thia 
hypothetical  reasoning  they  attack  Christian- 
it}',  and  boast  of  tuimbers,  while  all  their  vo- 
taries are  so  feii\  that  a  child  may  write  them. 
Bigots,  wlio  make  Scripture,  and  their  sense 
of  It,  the  same  thing,  practise  the  same  pious 
fraud,  and  turn  over  all  those  to  the  deistical 
party,  who  do  not  allow  their  doctrines. 
Hence  the  popular  notion  of  the  multiplicity  of 
Deists. 

From  the  charge  of  deism  first,  the  populace 
ought  to  be  freed.  Too  many  of  them  live 
without  any  religion.  The  religion  of  nature 
is  as  unknown  to  them  as  the  religion  of  Scrip- 
ture. When  they  think  of  religion,  their  er- 
ror is  credulity,  and  their  spiritual  guides 
soon  find,  that  the  believing  of  too  much,  and 
not  the  believing  of  too  little,  is  their  mistake. 
They  are  wicked:  but  they  are  not  Deists; 
for  the  term  dfisiu  surely  stands  for  admitting 
the  religion  of  nature,  as  well  as  for  the  re- 
nouncing of  revelation.  But  of  both,  in  gene- 
ral, they  are  alike  ignorant. 

They,  vho  renounce  popular  doctrines,  are 
not  therefore  Deists  The  learned  and  pious 
Dr.  Bekker,  one  of  the  pastors  at  Amster- 
dam, renounced  the  popular  opinion  of  the 
power  of  the  devil,  and  published  a  book 
against  it  in  1G91.  He  seemed  to  doubt  also 
of  the  eternity  of  hell-torments.  He  was  re- 
puted a  Deist,  and  the  consistory,  the  classes, 
and  the  svnods,  proceeded  against  him,  sus- 
pended him  first  from  the  communion,  and 
deposed  him  at  last  from  the  office  of  a  minis- 
ter. Yet  Dr.  Bekker  was  a  fast  friend  of  re- 
velation, and  all  his  crime  lay  in  expounding 
some  literal  passages  of  revelation  allegorical- 
ly.  Not  the  book  :  but  the  received  meaning 
of  it,    he  denied. 

The  Deists  ought  not  to  claim  them,  who 
affirin,  that  it  is  not  the  properly  of  the  trut/is 
of  revelation  to  square  uith  philowphy.  Mons. 
Voltaire  takes  Pomponatius  for  a  Deist. 
Pomponatius  denied  the  natural  immortality 
of  the  soul ;  he  affirmed,  that  it  could  not  be 
proved  by  principles  of  philosophy :  but  he 


XXVIU 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


believed,  anJ  maintained  the  immortality  of 
the  soul  on  the  testimony  of  revelation.  This 
learned  Italian  philofoplier  was  persecuted  by 
the  monks  ;  his  bnok,  it  is  said,  was  burnt  liy 
the  Venetians;  and  the  modern  Deists  have 
adopted  him ;  yet  Pomponalius  was  a  believer 
of  revelation,  anil, by  believnig  ths  immortality 
©f  the  soul  on  the  testimony  of  S':riplure,  he 
discovered  the  most  profound  veneration  for 
it,  a  deference  exactly  similar  to  that  .which 
trinitarians  pay  to  its  testimony  concerning 
the  nature  of  God. 

What  Po;nponatius  affirmed  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul,  Bayle  affirmed  of  all  Hit 
mysteries  of  the  gospel  ;  but  we  do  not  allow 
that  Bayle  was  therefore  a  Deist.  Thus  he 
writes:  '  If  one  of  the  apostles,  St.  Paul  for 
instance,  Avhen  among  the  Athenians,  had  be- 
eought  the  Areopagus  to  permit  him  to  enter 
the  li-ts  against  all  philosophers ;  had  he 
offered  to  maintain  a  disputation  upon  the 
three  persons,  wIki  are  but  one  Gol;  and  if, 
before  he  began  the  disputation,  he  had  ac- 
knowledged the  truth  of  the  rales  laid  down 
by  Aristotle  in  his  logic,  whetlier,  with  regard 
to  the  terms  of  opposition,  or  the  character- 
istics of  the  premises  of  a  demonstrative  syl- 
logism, &c. :  lastly,  if,  after  these  prelimina- 
ries were  well  settled,  he  had  answered,  that 
our  reason  i?  too  weak  to  ascend  to  the  know- 
ledge  of  the  mysteries  in  opposition  to  which 
objections  were  proposed  to  him  ;  in  such  a 
case,  he  would  have  suffered  as  much  shame, 
as  It  is  possible  for  a  defeated  opponent  to 
meet  with.  The  Athenian  philosophers  must 
have  gained  a  complete  victory  ;  for  he  would 
have  been  judged  and  condemned  agreeably 
to  the  maxims,  the  truth  of  which  he  had 
acknowledged  before.  But  had  the  philoso- 
phers em|)loyed  those  maxims  in  attacking 
him,  after  he  had  informed  them  of  the  foun- 
dation of  his  faith,  he  might  have  opposed  the 
following  barrier  to  them  ;  that  his  doctrines 
were  not  within  the  cognizance  of  reason ; 
that  they  had  been  revealed  by  heaven  ;  and 
that  mankind  must  believe  them,  though  they 
eould  not  compreliend  them.  The  disputa- 
tion, in  order  for  its  being  carried  on  in  a  re- 
gular manner,  must  not  have  turned  up(m  the 
following  question,  whether  these  doctrines 
were  repugnant  to  the  rules  of  logic  and  me- 
taphysics :  but  on  the  question,  whether  they 
had  been  revealed  by  heaven.  It  would 
have  been  impossible  for  St.  Paul  to  have 
been  defeated,  except  it  could  have  been  prov- 
ed to  him.  tliat  God  did  not  require  those 
things  to  be  believed.'*  This  reasoning  iloes 
not  appear  to  favour  deism ;  it  seems  to 
place  the  mysteries  of  Christianity  on  their  true 
base. 

Neither  are  those  to  be  reputed  Deists, 
who  doubts  or  dtni/.,  the  inspiration  of  some 
books  which  are  usualbj  accounted  sacred.  Lu- 
ther denied  the  inspiration  of  the  F.pistle 
to  St.  James;  Grotius  that  of  the  Song  of 
Solomon;  and  Dionysius,  Bishop  of  Alexan- 
dria, denied  that  the  Apocalypse  was  written 

*  Gen.  Diet.  vol.  x.  Illustration  upon  the 
Manichcc!. 


by  the  Apoitle  John  ;  yet  no  one  ef  these  was 
a  Deist. 

Nor  ought  the  Deist  to  claim  those  learned 
critics,  who  allow  that  the  Scriptures  have  un- 
dergone the  fate  of  all  other  books,  and  who 
therefore  expose  and  amend  the  errors  ot 
copyists,  expunge  interpolations,  restore  mu- 
tilated passages,  and  deal  with  the  writings 
of  St.  Paul  as  they  do  with  the  writings  of 
Thucydides.  The  chronology,  the  geogra- 
phy, the  history,  the  learning  of  the  Bible, 
(if  the  expression  be  not  improper)  must  ne- 
cessarily submit  to  a  critical  investigation,  ami 
upright  critics  have  self-evident  rules  of  trial. 
The  most  severe  piece  of  (;ritici?m  on  revela- 
tion is  at  the  same  time  one  of  the  most  ex- 
cellent defences  oi  it.  One  single  rule,  hfA 
it  been  thought  worthy  ot  that  attention 
which  it  merits,  would  have  spared  the  wri- 
ting of  many  a  folio,  and  have  freed  some 
Christians  from  many  a  religious  reverie.* 
Yet  the  author  of  this  piece  of  criticism,  the 
great  IjO  Clerc,  has  been,  by  some  of  his  big- 
otted  countrymen,  accounted  a  Deist. 

Finally,  we  caimot  resign  those  btightest 
ornaments  of  the  Christian  church,  whose  sense 
and  grace  will  not  allow  them  to  be  (iogroati- 
cal,  and  uho  h(silate  about  some  doctrines grn- 
erally  received  by  their  otrn  communitiis.  The 
celehrated  Phibp  Melancifon  has  been  taxed 
with  scepticism:  but  far  be  the  imputation 
fiom  him!  '  He  was  one  of  the  wisest  and 
best  men  of  his  age'  says  a  certain  historian  ; 
'  he  was  of  a  sweet,  peaceful  disposition,  had  a 
great  deal  of  wit,  had  read  much,  and  hi* 
knowledge  was  very  extensive,  'i'he  combi- 
nation of  such  qualities,  natural  and  acquired, 
is  ordinarily  a  foundation  for  diffidence.  Me- 
lancthon  was  by  no  means  free  from  doubts, 
and  there  were  abundance  of  subjects,  upon 
which  he  durst  not  pronounce  this  is  so,  and 
it  cannot  be  otlurwise.  He  lived  among  a 
sect  of  people,  who  to  him  appeared  passion- 
ate, and  too  eager  to  mix  the  arts  of  human 
policy,  and  the  autliority  of  the  secular  arm, 
with  the  affairs  of  the  church.  His  tender 
conscience  made  him  afraid  that  this  m^ght  bo 
a  mark  of  reprobation.  Although  he  drew 
up  the  .^ugsburgh  Confession,  yet  he  hated 
disputes  in  religion,  and  when  his  mother  ask- 
ed him  how  she  should  conduct  her  belief 
amidst  so  many  controversies.  Continue,  an- 
swered he,  to  believe  and  pray  as  you  have 
hitherto  done,  and  let  these  wars  ol  controver- 
sy give  you  no  manner  of  trouble.'  This  is 
the  Melancthon  who  was  suspected  of  de- 
ism ! 

Several  more  classes  might  be  nd<led  to  these: 
but  these  are  sufficient  to  prove  thiit  real  De- 
ists are  not  by  far  so  mumerous  as  reputed 
ones.  The  cause  of  deism,  unsupported  by 
reason,   may    magnify    its  little    all  :  but    th« 

*  Mons.  he  Clerc  expresses  this  rule  thus; 
Malta  rideri  in  virsionibus  emphulka.  cpia>.  in 
ipsisfonlibus  nullam  emphusin  habrnt. — Ars. 
Crit.  lorn.  i.  p.  2.  s.  i.  c.  4.  This  rule  of  in- 
terpretation, which  regards  the  idiom  of  a 
hiiiguage,  deserves  more  attention,  it  should 
seem,  than  hath  been  usually  paid  to  it. 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


XXIX 


eaasa  of  revelation  has  little  to  fear  from  the 
learning,  less  from  the  morality,  and  nothing 
from  the  number  of  its  opponents. 

When  some  atheists  appeared  in  the  Jew- 
ish church,  anil  attacked  the  knowledge  and 
worship  of  God,  the  people  of  God  were  in- 
timidated :  but,  the  royal  I'salmist  justly  ob- 
serves, '•  They  were  in  great  fear,  wliere  no 
fear  was,"  Psal.  liii.  5.  Similar  events  have 
pro  luced  similar  fears  in  the  Christian  church, 
and  to  these  honest,  but  ignorant  fears,  we 
ascribe  the  much  o:reHtcr  part  ot  those  pious 
frauds  with  which  Christians  have  disgraced 
the  cause  of  God.  Most  of  the  fatliers,  most 
of  *he  church  of  Rome,  and  some  Protestant 
churches,  have  treated  Christianity  like  an 
old  crazy  palace,  which  requires  props  or  sup- 
porters on  every  side  ;  and  they  have  mani- 
fested groat  injudiciousness  in  the  choice  of 
supporters.  The  gospel  stands  like  a  stately, 
stunly  oak,  defying  the  attack  of  every  storm  : 
but  they,  who  hail  pitched  their  tent  beneath 
it's  shade,  heard  a  rustlinjr  among  the  leaves, 
trembled  for  the  fate  of  the  tree,  and,  *o  secure 
it,  surrounded  it  wUh  a  plantation  of  oziers. 
To  this  ignorant  timidity,  and  not  to  the  base 
tricks  of  knavery,  the  sordid  arts  of  a  sorry 
avarice,  or  the  barbarous  pleasure  of  shedding 
human  blood,  we  charitalily  attribute  the 
greatest  absurdities  in  Ihe  Christian  church. 

Tliese  absurdities,  however,  have  produced 
very  bad  effects,  and  they  oblige  us  to  ov/n, 
that  real  Chrisliunshave  occasioned  violent  pre- 
judices against  Christianily. 

Some  Christians  have  endeavoured  to  sup- 
port the  cause  of  Clirislianity  by  spurious 
books ;  some  by  juggling  tricks,  called  mi- 
racles;  some  by  the  impositiDn  of  supersti- 
tious ceremonies ;  some  by  the  propagation  of 
absurd  doctrines;  some  have  pretended  to  ex- 
plain it  by  a  wretched  philosophy  ;  others 
have  exposed  it  to  derision  under  pretence  of 
adornin;<  it  with  allegory;  some  havp  pleaded 
for  it  hy  fines,  and  fires,  and  swords  ;  others 
have  incorporated  it  with  civil  interests ;  most 
Viavo  laid  down  filse  canons  of  interpretation, 
and  have  resembled  that  syn  ,d  which  con- 
demned the  aforementioned  Dr.  Bekker,  be- 
cause he  'had  explained  the  holy  Scriptures 
so  as  to  make  them  contrary  to  the  Catechism, 
and  particularly  to //le  Articles  of  Faitk  which 
he  had  himself  subscribed.'  Above  all,  the 
loose  lives  of  the  professors  of  Christianity, 
and  particularly  of  some  of  the  ministers  of  it, 
have  "  covered  the  daughter  of  Sion  with  a 
cloud,  and  have  cast  down  from  heaven 
unto  the  earth  the  beauty  of  Israel."  Lam. 
ii.  1. 

Involve  Christianity  in  all  these  thick  mists, 
surround  it  with  all  these  phenomena,  call  a 
•weak  eye,  or  a  wicked  heart,  to  contemplate 
it,  and,  without  a  spirit  of  prophecy,  the  dis- 
covery may  be  foretold  ;  the  observer  will  be- 
come   a  reasoner     ....     a    philosopher 

.      .      .      a  DlilST. 

These  are  tlie  topics,  and  not  the  gospel  it- 
self, which  most  Deists  have  attacked  :  but  if 
•we  agree  to  exonerate  Christianity  of  all  these 
incumbrances;  what  have  Deists  to  answer.' 
Very  few  of  them  have   taken  up   the  argu- 


ment on  its  true  grounds,  a7id  they  who  hare 
could  not  support  it. 

When  a  Frenchman  undertakes  to  attack 
Christianity,  the  disputes  of  his  countrymen 
afford  him  an  ample  supply  ;  he  bf)rrows  arms 
of  every  party  of  Christians,  he  conquers 
Popery  with  Protestant  weapons,  opposes  the 
virions  of  quietism  with  the  subtleties  of  Jan- 
senism, the  mysteries  of  Jansenius  with  the 
laws  of  good  sense;  and,  having  defeated  ab- 
surdity, he  vainly  imagines  he  has  obtained 
a  victory  over  Christianity.  English  Deists 
have  taken  the  same  method,  and  as  our  coun- 
try has  the  same  excesses,  they  have  an  am- 
ple field  of  glory  before  them.  Christianity 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  errors  of  St.  Austin, 
or  the  dreams  of  Madam  Bourignon  ;  but  it 
is  founded  on  a  few  facts,  the  evidence  of 
which  can  never  be  disproved.  The  know- 
ledge of  these  is  a  preservative  against  De- 
ism. 

To  establish  these  facts  was  the  original  de- 
sign of  Mens.  Saurin  in  the  following  sermons, 
as  it  is  mine  in  endeavouring  to  translate  them. 
Those  who  are  acquainted  with  his  sermons, 
well  know,  that  there  are  in  the  twelvo 
volumes  many  more  on  the  same  topics  :  but, 
as  it  was  impossible  to  put  them  all  into  ona 
volume,  I  have  been  obliged  to  make  the  best- 
choice  in  my  power,  and  have  arranged  them 
in  the  following  order  : — 

The  tirst  sermon  contains  a  set  of  rules  es- 
sentially necessary  to  the  investigating  oUruth^ 
and  a  lew  reasons  to  enforce  tiie  practice 
of  them.  The  second  proposes  an  examina- 
tion of  the  truths  of  Chrisltumly,  and  settles 
rules  of  disputation  peculiar  to  this  controver- 
sy. The  /af/i- follow  in  the  succeeding  ser- 
mons, the  birth,  the  ministry,  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus  Christ,  &:c-  Four  of  the  last  dis- 
courses expose  iiijidelilj/  and  recommend  Chris- 
tiaiiily;  and  the  last  of  all  is  an  exhortation 
to  him  who  is  supposed  to  have  (ound  the 
gospel  of  Christ,  to  hold  it  fast,  as  a  system  ot" 
truth,  and  to  avoid  those  snares,  into  whicli 
Christians  are  liable  to  be  drawn. 

iViay  our  readers  "  have  these  things  always 
in  remembrance;  for  we  have  not  followed 
cunningly  devised  fables,"  2  Pet.  i.  15.  &cc^ 
but  a  sure  word  rf  prophecy,  history  and  pre- 
cept, which  liolfi  mtn  of  God  spake,  as  thei/ 
were  moved  by  the  Ho:y  Ghost. 

^  Three  times  have  I  taken  pen  in  hand  to 
account  to  my  subscribers  in  a  preface  for  my 
choice  of  the  sermons  that  compose  this  volume. 
But  one  thought  hath  as  often  confused  me  at 
the  outset,  and  obliged  me  to  lay  it  aside.  I 
am  struck  with  an  idea  of  the  different  de- 
grees of  labour  necessary  to  two  men,  one  of 
whom  should  conceive  the  project  of  disunit- 
ing Christians,  and  the  other  that  of  cement- 
ing them  together  in  mutual  love.  The  first 
need  not  trouble  himself  with  study,  examina- 
tion, and  argument ;  he  would  not  be  obliged 
either  to  divest  himself  of  his  own  preposses- 
sions, or  to  expose  those  of  others ;  he  need 
not  sit  whole  nights  and  days  either  to  exam- 

*  Here  commences  Mr.  Robinson's  preface 
to  the  third  volume  of  the  first  edition. 


x-xx 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


ine  his  own  theses,  or  impartially  to  weigh 
those  of  his  opponents  :  let  him  only  take 
popular  prejuilices,  cover  them  with  the 
sacrecl  style  of  Scripture,  or  conceal  them  un- 
der the  impenetiable  jargon  ol'  the  schools  ; 
let  him  animate  Ihem  with  parly  spirit,  call  it 
religious  zeal,  and  denounce  juilgment  on  all 
who  do  not  believe  the  whole  to  be  essential 
to  salvation ;  and  the  work  will  be  done. 
Such  a  man,  I  think,  resembles  a  light- 
heeled  enemy,  tripping  over  a  spacious  field, 
and  scattering,  a?  he  goes,  the  seeds  of  an  end- 
less number  of  weeds :  while  the  man,  who 
adopts  a  contrary  plan,  must  be  forced,  like 
the  patient  prying  weeder,  to  stoop  and  toil, 
step  by  step,  day  after  day,  feeling  many  a  pain, 
and  fetching  many  a  sigh,  to  pull  the  noxious 
produce  up. 

According  to  my  first  proposal,  this  volume 
ought  to  consist  of  sermons  on  Ihc  ductnms  of 
Clirisliariit//.  My  intimate  friends,  who  first 
encouraged,  and  subscribed  for  this  translation, 
thoroughly  understood  me  :  but  I  might  have 
foreseen,  that  their  partiality  would  procure 
oiher  purchasers,  unacquainted  with  my  no- 
tions of  men  and  things,  and  who  probably 
might  expect  to  find  each  his  own  system  of 
r-ligion  in  a  volume  of  sermons  on  the  doc- 
trines of  our  common  Lord.  I  am  necessita- 
ted therefore  to  explain  myself,  and  to  be- 
speak a  candid  attentioti,  while  1  endeavour  to 
do  so. 

Very  early  in  life  I  was  prepossessed  in  fa- 
vour of  the  following  positions: — Christianity 
is  a  religion  of  divine  original — a  religion  of 
di /ine  original  must  needs  be  a  perfect  rpli- 
gion.  and  answer  all  the  ends,  lor  which  it  was 
revealed,  without  human  additions. — The 
Christian  religion  has  undergone  consitierable 
alterations  since  the  times  ot  Jesus  Christ  and 
his  apostles,  and  yet,  Jesus  Cliriat  was  then  ac- 
counted the  Jinislier,  as  well  as  the  aulhor  of 
Jiiiih,  ?Ieb.  xii.  2.  The  doctrines  of  revelation, 
as  they  lie  in  the  inspiied  writings,  difl'er  very 
much  from  the  same  doctrines,  as  they  lie  in 
creeds  of  human  composition. — The  moral 
precepts,  the  positive  institutes,  and  the  reli- 
gious afl'ections.  which  constitute  the  devotion 
of  most  modern  Christians,  form  a  melancholy 
contrast  to  those,  which  arc  described  by  the 
guides,  whom  they  profess  to  follow  The 
light  of  nature,  and  that  of  revelation  ;  the  op- 
erations of  right  reason,  the  spirit  of  the  first, 
and  the  influence  of  tJie  Holy  Giio-t,  the  soul 
of  the  last:  both  proceeding  from  the  same 
uniform  Supreme  Being,  cannot  be  supposed 
to  be  destructive  of  each  other,  or,  even  m  the 
least  degree,  to  clash  together-  The  finest 
idea,  that  can  be  formed  of  the  Supreme  Be- 
ing, is  that  of  an  infinite  intelligence  always  in 
harmony  with  itself:  and.  accordingly,  the 
best  way  of  proving  the  truth  of  revelation  is 
that  of  showing  the  analogy  of  the  plan  of  re- 
demption to  that  of  creation  and  providence. 
Simijlicity  and  majesty  characterize  I  oth  na- 
ture and  Scripture  :  sim))licity  reduces  those 
benefits,  which  are  essential  to  the  real  happi- 
ness of  man,  to  the  size  of  all  mankind  ;  majes- 
ty makes  a  rich  provision  for  the  employment 
find  super-added  felicity  of  a  few  superior  ge- 


niuses, who  first  improve  themselve*,  and  then 
felicitate  their  inferior  brethren  by  simplifying 
their  own  ideas,  by  refining  and  elevating  those 
of  their  fellow-creatures,  by  so  establishing  a 
social  intercourse,  consolitlating  fraternal  love, 
and  along  with  it  all  the  recijirocal  ties,  that 
unite  mankind.  Men's  ideas  of  objects  essen- 
tia! to  their  happiness  are  neither  so  dissimilar, 
nor  so  numerous,  as  inattentive  spectators  are 
apt  to  suppose.  \"ariety  of  sentiment,  which 
is  tht  life  of  society,  cannot  be  dastructive  of 
real  religion.  Mere  mental  errors,  if  they  be 
not  entirely  innocent  in  the  account  of  the  Su- 
preme Governor  of  mankind,  cannot  be,  how- 
ever, objec;ts  of  blame  and  punishment  among 
men.  Christianity  could  never  be  intended  to 
destroy  the  natural  rights,  or  even  to  di- 
minish the  natural  j^rivileges  of  mankind. 
Tliat  religion,  which  alltiws  the  just  claims, 
and  secures  the  social  happiness  of  all  mankijid, 
must  needs  be  a  better  religion  than  that, 
which  provides  for  only  a  part  at  the  expense 
of  the  rest.  God  is  more  glorified  by  the  good 
actions  of  his  creatures,  expressive  of  homage 
to  him,  and  productive  of  universal,  social 
good,  than  he  is  by  uncertain  conjectures,  or 
even  accurate  notion?,  which  originate  in  self- 
possession  and  terminate  in  social  disunion. 
How  clear  soever  all  these  maxims  may  be,  a 
certain  degree  of  ambition  or  avar  ce,  igno- 
rance or  malice,  presumption  or  dilFideiice,  or 
any  other  irregular  passion,  will  render  a  man 
blind  to  the  clearest  demonstration,  and  insen- 
sible to  the  most  rational  and  affecting  persua- 
sion. 'I  hese  positions,  mere  opinions  and  pre- 
possessions Ijelore  examinalion,  became  de- 
monstrative truths  after  a  course  of  diligent 
search  ;  and  these  general  principles  have  op- 
erated in  the  choice  of  the  sermons,  wliich 
compose  this  volume  of  the  principal  doctrines 
of  Christianity. 

But,  previous  to  all  inquiries  concerning  the 
doctrines  of  Christianity,  it  is  absolutely  ne- 
cessary to  eslabli.-h  that  of  CHUISTIAJf  LIBER- 
TY ;  tor,  say  what  we  will,  if  this  prelim- 
inary doctrine  of  right  be  disallowed,  volunta- 
ry piety  is  the  dream  of  an  enthusiast ;  the 
oracles  of  God  in  the  Christian  v.orld,  like 
those  of  the  Sybils  in  pagan  Rome,  are  sounds 
convertible  to  senatorial  sense;  and  the  whole 
Christian  mission,  from  the  first  prophet  down 
to  the  la^t  minister,  is  one  long  muster-roll  of 
statesmen's  tools,  a  disgrace  to  their  species,  a 
contradiction  to  their  profession,  a  dishonour  to 
their  God ! 

Christian  liberty  in  Italy,  is  liberty  to  be  a. 
Roman  Catholic,  that  is,  liberty  to  believe 
what  the  bishop  of  Rome  affirms  to  be  true, 
and  liberty  to  pprf(jrm  what  he  commands  to 
be  done.  Chri^tian  liberty  in  some  relormed 
churches  is  liberty  to  renounce  what  the  refor- 
mers renounced,  to  believe  what  they  alfirmed, 
and  to  practice  what  they  required.  But  w© 
whohare  not  so  learned  Christ,  define  Christian 
liberty  otiierwise  :  and  if  we  be  asked,  What 
is  Christian  liberty  ?  we  answer,  It  is  liberty 
to  be  a  Christian.  One  part  of  Christianity 
consists  of  propositions  to  be  believed.  Lib- 
el ty  to  be  a  Christian  believer  is  liberty  to  ex- 
amine these  propositions,  to  form  a  judgment 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


XXXI 


of  them,  and  to  come  to  a  self-determination, 
according;  to  our  own  best  abilities.  Another 
part  of  Christianity  consists  of  duties  to  be 
performed.  Liberty  to  be  a  practical  Chris- 
tian is  liberty  to  perform  these  duties,  either 
as  they  resjard  GoJ,  our  neighbour,  or  our- 
selves. Liberty  to  be  a  Christian,  implies  lib- 
erty not  to  be  a  Christian,  as  liberty  to  exam- 
ine a  proposition  implies  liberty  to  reject  the 
arjjuments  brouglit  to  support  it,  if  they  a|)- 
pear  inconclusive,  as  well  as  liberty  to  admit 
them,  if  they  appear  demonstrative.  To  pre- 
tend to  examine  Christianity,  before  we  have 
established  our  ri,ght  to  do  so,  is  to  pretend  to 
cultivate  an  estate,  before  we  have  made  out 
our  title  to  it. 

The  object  of  Christian  liberty,  that,  with 
•which  a  man,  who  would  examine  Christiani- 
ty, ha?  to  do,  is  a  system  of  Christian  doctrine  : 
but,  having  eslalilished  the  doctrine  of  right, 
belore  we  proceeil  to  exercise  this  right  by  ex- 
amining the  religion  proposed  to  mankind  by 
Jesus  Ciirist,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  in- 
quire what  we  ought,  on  sound  principles  of 
just  and  fair  reasoning,  to  expect  to  find  in  it. 
I  know  f():ne  trutlis  without  revelation,  I 
have  a  full  demonstration  in  nature,  that  there 
is  one  Go  1 — that  it  is  impossible  tliere  should 
be  more  than  one — that  he  is  an  intelligent 
sp  rit — and  that  he  is  a  wise  and  bountiful  Be- 
ing. Should  any  religion,  which  pretends  to 
be  divine, affir.ii  that  there  is  a  plurality  of  gods; 
God  is  not  an  intelligent  Spirit — God  is  an  un- 
wise and  an  unkind  b(Mng — I  should  have  a 
right  to  reject  this  |iretended  revelation.  In- 
deed, should  a  revealed  reliirion  allow  my  de- 
monstrations, and  afterwards  explain  them  in  a 
manner  quite  subversive  of  my  former  expli- 
cations of  th^m  :  f.houl  I  it  affirm,  God  is,  as 
you  say,  a  wise  and  bountiful  being :  hut  he 
displays  his  wisdom  and  goodness  not  in  gov- 
erning his  intelligent  creatures  as  you  have 
imagined  ;  sucli  a  moral  government,  I  will 
prove  to  you,  would  show  a  defect  of  wisdom 
and  goodness  ;  but  he  disphiys  the  supreme 
perfection  of  both,  by  providing  for  such  and 
such  interests,  and  by  bestowing  such  and  such 
benefits,  as  have  either  escaped  your  notice,  or 
were  beyond  your  comprehension.  In  this 
case  I  ought  not  to  reject  revelation,  for,  al- 
though I  can  demonstrate  without  inspiration 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  GoJ,  yet  I  cannot 
pretend  by  the  light  of  nature  to  know  all  the 
directions,  and  to  ascertain  all  the  limits  of  these 
perfections. 

Lay  (^hristirfnity  before  me  who  will,  I  ex- 
pect to  find  three  things  in  it,  which  I  call  anal- 
ogy, proportion,  and  perfection.  Each  of 
these  articles  opens  a  wide  fisld  of  not  incuri- 
ous speculation,  and  each  fully  ex[)lained  and 
applied  would  serve  to  guide  r.ny  man  in  his 
choice  of  a  religion,  yea  in  his  choice  of  a  i)arty 
amon;;  the  various  divisions  of  Ciiristians : 
but  alas  !  we  are  not  employed  now-a-days  in 
examining  and  choosing  religious  principles  for 
ourselves,  but  in  subscribing,  and  defending 
those  of  our  ancestors  !  A  few  hints  then  shall 
serve. 

By  analogy  I  mean  resemblance,  and,  when 
I  say  revealed  religion  must  bring  along  with 


itan  analogical  evidence,  1  mean,  it  must  re- 
semble the  just  dictates  of  nature.  The  rea- 
son is  plain.  The  same  Supreme  Being  is  the 
author  of  both.  ^J'he  God  of  nature  has  form- 
ed man  for  observing  objects,  comparing  them 
together,  laying  down  principles,  inferring  con. 
sequences,  reasoning  and  self-determining  ;  he 
has  notonly  empowered  all  mankind  to  exer<"ise 
these  abilities,  but  has  even  constrained  them 
by  a  necessity  of  nature  to  do  so;  he  has  not 
only  rendered  it  impossible  for  men  to  excel 
without  this  exercise, but  he  has  even  rendered 
it  impossible  for  them  to  exist  safely  in  society 
without  it.  In  a  word,  the  God  of  nature  has 
made  man  in  his  own  image,  a  self-determining 
being,and,to  say  nothing  of  the  nature  of  virtue, 
he  has  rendered  free  consent  essential  to  every 
man's  felicity  and  peace.  With  his  own  con- 
sent, subjection  makes  him  happy;  without  it, 
dominion  over  the  universe  would  make  hira 
miserable. 

The  religion  of  nature,  (I  mean  by  this  ex- 
pression, here,  the  objects,  which  display  the 
nature  of  the  Deity,  and  thereby  discover  the 
obligations  ol  mankind)  is  in  perfect  harmony 
with  the  natural  constitution  of  man.  All  nat- 
ural objects  offer  evidence  to  all  :  but  force  it 
on  none.  A  man  may  examine  it,  and  he  may 
not  examine  it ;  he  may  admit  it,  and  he  may 
reject  it :  and,  if  his  rejection  of  the  evidence 
of  natural  religion  be  not  expressed  in  i<uch 
overt  acts  as  are  injurious  to  the  peace  of  civil 
society,  no  man  is  empowered  to  force  him,  or 
to  punish  him;  the  Supreme  moral  Governor 
of  the  world  himself  does  not  distiiiijuish  hirn 
here  by  any  exterior  punishments;  at  most  he 
expresses  his  displeasure  by  marks  attached  to 
the  person  of  the  culprit,  and  concealed  from 
all  the  rest  of  his  lellow  creatures ;  and  the 
glory  of  civil  society  is  not  to  encroach  en  the 
moral  government  of  God. 

Christianity  comes,  pretends  to  come  from 
the  God  of  nature;  I  look  for  analogy,  and  I 
find  it :  but  I  find  it  in  the  holy  Scrijitures,  the 
first  teachers,  and  the  primitive  churches.  In 
all  these,  I  am  considered  as  a  rational  crea- 
ture, objects  are  proposed,  evidence  is  ofl'ered: 
if  1  admit  it,  I  am  not  entitled  thereby  to  any 
temporal  emoluments;  if  I  refuse  it,  I  am  not 
subjected  to  any  temporal  punisnments;  the 
Vv-hole  is  an  atiair  of  conscience,  and  lies  be- 
tweeii  eacli  individual  and  his  God.  I  choose 
to  be  a  Christian  on  this  very  account.  This 
freedom  whicli  I  call  a  perfection  of  my  na- 
ture ;  this  self-determination,  the  dignity  of 
my  species,  the  essence  of  my  natural  virtue; 
this  I  do  not  forfeit  by  becoming  a  Christian  ; 
this  I  retain,  explained,  confirmed,  directed,  as- 
sisted by  the  regal  grant  of  the  Son  of  God. 
Thus  the  prerogati\es  of  Christ,  the  laws  of 
his  religion,  and  the  natural  rights  of  mankind 
being  analogous,  evidence  arises  of  the  divin- 
ity ol  the  religion  ofJesus. 

I  believe  it  would  be  very  easy  to  provei^ 
that  the  Christianity  of  the  church  of  Rome, 
and  that  of  every  other  establishment,  because 
they  are  establisliments,  are  totally  destitute  of 
this  analogy.  The  religion  of  nature  is  not  ca- 
pable of  establishment,  the  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  not  capable  of  establishment :  if  the 


XXXll 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


religion  of  any  church  be  capable  of  establish- 
m2nl,  it  is  not  analogous  to  that  of  Scripture,  or 
that  of  natare.  A  very  simple  example  may 
explain  oar  meaning.  Natural  relig;ion  re- 
quires a  man  to  pay  a  mental  homage  to  the 
Daity,  to  venerate  his  perfections,  by  aJorina; 
anJ  confiding  in  them.  By  what  possible 
ni?aas  can  lh?s3  pious  operations  of  the  mind 
be  established?  could  they  be  forced,  their  na- 
ture would  be  destroyed,  and  they  would  cease 
to  be  piety,  which  is  an  exercise  of  jud;^ment 
and  will,  (levealed  religion  requires  man  to 
pay  a  m2ntal  homage  to  the  Deity  through  Je- 
IU3  Christ,  to  venerate  his  perfections  by  ador- 
ing and  confiding  in  them  as  Christianity  di- 
rects ;  by  repentance,  by  faith,  by  hope,  and 
so  on.  IIovv  is  it  possible  to  establish  those 
spiritual  acts?  A  human  establishment  re- 
quires man  to  pay  this  Christian  mental  ho- 
mage to  the  Deity  by  performing  some  exter- 
nal ceremony,  suppose  bowing  to  the  east. 
The  ceremony,  we  grant,  may  be  established: 
but,  the  voluntary  exercise  of  the  soul  in  the 
performance,  which  is  essential  to  the  Chris- 
tianity of  the  action,  who  in  the  world  can  es- 
tablish this?  Il' the  religion  of  Jesus  be  consid- 
ered as  consisting  of  external  rites  and  internal 
dispositions,  the  former  may  be.  established; 
but,  be  it  remembered,  the  establishment  of 
the  exterior  not  only  does  not  establish  the  in- 
terior, but  the  destruction  of  the  last  is  previ- 
ously essential  to  the  establishment  of  the  first. 
No  religion  can  be  estalilished  without  penal 
sanctions,  and  all  penal  sanctions  in  cases  of  re- 
ligion are  persecutions.  Before  a  man  can 
persecute,  he  must  renounce  the  generous  tol- 
erant dispositions  of  a  Christian.  No  religion 
can  be  established  without  human  creeds  ;  and 
subscription  to  all  human  creeds  implies  two 
dispositions  contrary  to  true  religion,  and  both 
expressly  forbidden  by  the  author  of  it.  These 
two  dispositions  are,  love  of  dominion  over 
conscience  in  the  imposer,  and  an  abject  pre- 
ference of  slavery  in  the  subscriber.  The  first 
usurps  the  rights  of  Christ;  the  last  swears 
allegiance  to  a  pretender.  The  first  domi- 
neers, and  gives  laws  like  a  tyrant;  the  last 
truckles  like  a  vassal.  The  first  assumes  a  do- 
minion incompatible  with  his  frailty,  impossi- 
ble even  to  his  dignity,  yea  denied  to  the  dig- 
nity of  angels  ;  the  last  yields  a  low  submission, 
inconsistent  with  his  own  dignity,  and  ruinous  to 
that  very  religion,  which  he  pretends  by  this 
mean  tosupport.  Jesus  Christdoes  notrequire, 
he  does  not  allow,  yea,heexpressly  forbidsboth 
these  dispositions,  well  knowing,that  an  allow- 
ance of  these  would  be  a  suppression  of  the  finest 
dispositions  of  the  human  soul,  and  a  degrading 
of  revelation  beneath  the  religion  of  nature. 
If  human  inventions  have  formerly  secularized 
Christianity,  and  rendered  such  bad  disposi- 
tions necessary  in  times  of  ignorance,  they 
ought  to  be  exploded  now,  as  all  Christians 
now  allow  this  theory: — The  Son  of  God  did 
not  come  to  redeem  one  part  of  mankind  to 
serve  the  secular  views,  and  unworthy  passions 
of  the  other:  but  he  obtained  freedom  for  both, 
that  both  tnij^lil  serve,  him  without  fear  in  ho- 
liness and  righteousness  all  the  days  of  their 
lives.  Luke  i.  74,  75.     Whsrj  churches  reduce 


this  theory  to  practice,  they  realize  in  aetaal 
lite  what  otherwise  makes  only  a  fine  idea  de- 
cypherod  in  books,  and  by  so  doing  they  adorn 
their  Christianity  with  the  glorious  evidence 
of  analogy. 

Suppose  the  God  of  nature  should  think  pro- 
per to  reveal  a  simple  system  of  astronomy, 
and  to  require  all  mankind  to  examine  and  be- 
lieve this  revelation  on  pain  of  his  displeasure. 
Suppose  one  civil  government,  having  examin- 
ed this  revelation,  and  explained  the  sense,  in 
which  they  understood  it,  should  endeavour  to 
establish  theirexplication  Ly  temporal  rewards 
and  punishments.  Suppose  they  should  re- 
quire all  their  subjects  to  carry  their  infants  in 
their  arms  to  a  public  school,  to  answer  certain 
astronomical  interrogations,  to  be  put  by  a 
professor  of  astronomy ;  as,  in  general,  wilt 
thou,  infant  of  eight  days  old!  wilt  thou  be  an 
astronomer?  Dostthou  renounce  all  erroneous 
systems  of  astronomy?  In  particular,  dost  thoU 
admit  the  true  Copernican  system  ?  Dost  tliou 
believe  the  revealed  explication  of  this  system  ? 
And  dost  thou  also  believe  that  explication  of 
this  revelation,  which  certain  of  our  own  pre- 
decessors in  the  profession  believed,  which  we, 
your  masters  and  parents,  in  due  obedience,  re- 
ceive? Suppose  a  proxy  required  to  answer 
for  this  infant;  all  this,  I,  proxy  for  tliis  child, 
do  steadfastly  believe;  and  suppose  from  this 
hour,  the  child  became  a  reputed  astronomer. 
Suppose  yet  farther,  this  child  should  grow  to 
manhood,  and  in  junior  lite  should  be  pressed, 
on  account  of  the  obligation  contracted  in  his 
infant  state,  to  subscribe  a  certain  paper  called 
an  astronomical  creed,  containing  m;ithemati- 
cal  definitions,  astronomical  propositions,  and 
so  on,  and  should  be  required  for  certain  re- 
wards to  examine  and  approve,  teach  and  de- 
fend this  creed,  and  no  other,  without  incurring 
the  penalty  of  expulsion  from  all  public  schools, 
a  deprivation  of  all  honour?,  which  he  might 
be  supposed  on  other  accounts  to  merit,  an  ex- 
clusion from  all  offices  of  trust,  credit,  and  pro- 
fit, in  some  cases  a  loss  of  property,  in  others 
imprisonment,  in  others  death.  In  this  sup- 
posed case,  I  ask,  would  not  the  establishment 
of  this  system  be  an  open  violation  of  the  doc- 
trine of  analogy,  and  should  I  not  have  a  right 
to  reason  thus?  The  revelation  itself  is  in- 
fallible, and  the  author  of  it  has  given  it  me 
to  examine  :  but  the  establishment  of  a  ^twn 
meaning  of  it  renders  examination  needless, 
and  perhaps  dangerous.  The  God  of  nature 
has  given  me  eyes,  instruments,  powers,  and 
inclinations  to  use  them  ;  ey^s,  faculties,  and 
dispositions  as  good  as  those  of  my  ancestors, 
and  instruments  better  :  but  all  these  advanta- 
ges, which  may  be  beneficial  to  me,  if  they  con- 
firm the  truth  of  the  explication  ;  may  be  fatal 
to  me,  if  they  lag  behind,  or  ken  beyond  the 
bound  of  the  creed.  Nature  says,  a  constella- 
tion is  a  collection  of  stars,  which  in  the  heav- 
ens appear  near  to  one  another.  This  is  a 
plain  simple  truth,  I  open  my  eyes,  and  admit 
the  evidence.  Revelation  says,  each  fixed  star 
is  a  sun,  the  centre  of  a  system,  consisting  of 
planets  inhabited  by  intelligent  beings,  who 
possess  one  sense  and  two  faculties  more  than 
the  inhabitants  of  this  globe,  and  who  ■worship 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


XXXlll 


the  most  high  God  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  I  can- 
rot  comprehend  this  whole  proposition :  but 
there  is  nothing  in  it  contrary  to  the  nature  of 
things;  and  I  believe  the  truth  of  it  on  the 
testimony  of  the  revealer.  The  established 
explication  of  this  proposition  is  that  of  Ptole- 
my. He  numbered  the  stars  in  the  constella- 
tioi)  Bootes,  and  found  them,  or  supposed  he 
found  them,  twenty-three,  and  this  number  I 
am  to  examine  and  approve,  teach  and  defend 
against  all  opponents.  What  shall  1  say  to 
Tycho,  who  alfirms,  Bootes  contains  only  eigh- 
teen ?  Must  I  execrate  Havelius,  who  makes 
them  fifty-two?  After  all,  perhaps  Fiamstead 
maybe  right;  he  says  there  are  filty-four. 
Does  not  this  method  of  teaching  astronomy 
suppose  a  hundred  absurdities?  Does  it  not 
imply  'he  imperfection  of  the  revealed  system, 
the  infallibility  of  Ptolf-my,  the  err^neousness 
of  the  other  astronomers,  the  folly  of  t.:3mina- 
tion,  or  the  sldl  greater  madness  of  allowing  a 
conclusion  after  a  denial  of  the  premises,  from 
which  it  pretends  to  be  drawn?  When  I  was 
an  infant,  I  am  told,  I  was  treated  like  a  man, 
now  I  am  a  man,  I  am  tieated  like  an  infant. 
I  am  an  astronomer  by  proxy.  The  plan  of 
God  requires  faculties,  and  the  exercise  of 
them  :  that  of  my  country  exchanges  both  for 
quiet  submission.  I  am,  and  I  am  not,  a  be- 
liever of  astronomy. 

Were  it  alhrmed,  that  a  revelation  from 
heaven  established  ;uch  a  method  of  main- 
taining a  science  of  speculation,  reasoning,  and 
practice,  every  rational  creature  would  have  a 
right  to  doubt  the  truth  of  such  a  revelation  ; 
for  it  would  violate  the  doctrine  of  analogy, 
by  making  the  Deity  inconsistent  with  him- 
self. But  we  will  pursue  this  track  no  fur- 
ther ;  we  hope  nothing  said  will  be  deemed 
illiberal ;  we  distinguish  between  a  constitu- 
tion of  things,  and  many  wise  and  good  men, 
who  submit  to  it,  and  we  only  venture  to 
guess,  if  they  be  wise  and  good  men,  under 
such  inconveniences,  they  would  be  wiser  and 
better  men  without  them  :  at  all  ad>eniures, 
if  we  owe  much  respect  to  men.  we  owe  more 
to  truth,  to  incontrovertible,  unchangeable 
truth. 

A  second  character  of  a  divine  revelation,  is 
proportion.  By  proportion  I  mean,  relative 
fitness,  and,  when  I  alfirm  a  divine  revelation 
must  bring  along  with  it  proportional  evi- 
dence, I  mean  to  say,  it  must  appear  to  be  ex- 
actly fitted  to  those  intelligent  creatures,  for 
■whose  benefit  it  is  intended.  In  the  former 
article  we  required  a  similarity  between  the 
requisitions  of  God  and  the  faculties  of  men  : 
in  this  we  require  an  exact  quantity  of  requi- 
sition commensurate  with  those  faculties.  The 
former  regards  the  nature  of  a  revelation  ;  this 
has  for  its  object  the  limits  of  it.  Were  it  pos- 
sible lor  God,  having  Ibrmed  a  man  only  for 
Walking,  by  a  messenger  from  heaven  to  re- 
quire him  to  fly,  the  doctrine  of  analogy  would 
be  vio'ated  by  this  requisition;  and  were  he  to 
determine  a  prodigious  space,  through  which 
he  required  him  to  pass  in  a  given  time,  were 
he  to  describe  an  immense  distance,  and  to  en- 
join him  to  move  through  it  with  a  degree  of 
7«locity  impossible  to  him,  the  doctrine  of  pro- 

E 


portion  would  be  violated ;  and  the  God  of 
revelation  would  in  both  cases  be  made  con- 
tradictory to  the  God  of  nature. 

The  Christian  revelation,  we  presume,  an- 
swers all  our  just  expectations  on  these  arti- 
cles ;  for  all  the  truths  revealed  by  it  are  anal- 
ogous to  the  nature  of  things,  and  every  article 
in  it  bears  an  exact  proportion  to  the  abilities 
of  all  those,  for  whose  benefit  it  is  given.  Our 
Saviour  treats  of  the  doctrine  of  proportion, 
in  the  parable  of  the  talents,  and  supposes  the 
Lord  to  apportion  the  number  of  talents,  when 
he  bestows  them,  and  the  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, which  he  distributes  for  the  use,  and 
abuse  of  them,  to  the  several  ability  of  each 
servant,  iVlatt.  xxv.  14.  St.  Paul  depicts  the 
primitive  church  in  all  the  beauty  of  this  pro- 
portional economy  ;  the  same  God  workeih  all 
diversities  of  operations  in  all  differences  of  ad- 
ministrations, dividing,  to  (very  man  severally 
as  he  mil,  I  Cor  xii.  5,  6.  11.  This  economy, 
he  says,  assimilates  the  Christian  church  to  the 
human  body,  and  gives  to  the  one  as  to  the 
other  strength,  symmetry,  and  beauty,  evident- 
ly proving\hat  the  author  of  creation  is  the 
author  of  redemption,  h-aming  both  by  one  uni- 
form rule  of  analogy  and  proportion. 

Full  of  these  just  notions,  we  examine  that 
description  of  revelation,  which  human  creeds 
exhibit,  and  we  perceive  at  once,  they  are 
all  destitute  of  proportional  evidence.  They 
all  consist  of  multifarious  propositions,  each  of 
which  is  considered  as  essential  to  the  whole, 
and  the  belief  of  all  essential  to  an  enjoyment 
of  the  benefits  of  Christianity,  yea  to  those  of 
civil  society,  in  this  life,  and  to  a  participation 
of  eternal  life  in  the  wnild  to  come  In  this 
case  the  iVeegiftsofGod  to  all  are  monopolized  by 
a  few,  and  sold  out  to  the  many  at  a  price,  far 
greater  than  nine-tenths  of  them  can  pay,  and 
at  a  price,  which  the  remaining  part  ought  not 
to  pay,  because  the  donor  has  not  empowered 
these  salesmen  to  exa<;t  any  price,  because  by 
his  original  griint  all  are  made  joint  proprie- 
tors, and  because  the  payment  would  be  at 
once  a  renunciation  of  their  right  to  hold  by 
the  original  grant,  and  of  their  lord's  preroga- 
tive to  bestow. 

What  can  a  declaimer  mean,  when  he  re- 
peats a  number  of  propositions,  and  declares 
the  belief  of  them  all  essential  to  the  salvation 
of  man?  or  what  could  he  reply  to  one,  who 
should  ask  him,  which  man  do  you  mean,  the 
man  in  the  stall?  Is  it  Sir  Isaac  Newton  :  or 
the  man  in  the  aisle  ?  It  is  Tom  Long,  the 
carrier.  God  almighty,  thte  creator  of  both, 
has  formed  these  two  men  with  difi"erent  or- 
gans of  body,  and  different  faculties  of  mind; 
he  has  given  them  different  advantages  and  dif- 
ferent opportunities  of  improving  them,  he  has 
placed  them  in  different  relations,  and  empow- 
ered the  one  to  teach  what  the  other,  depend 
on  his  belief  what  will,  is  not  capable  of  learn- 
ing. Ten  thousand  Tom  Longs  go  to  make 
up  one  Newtonian  soul.  Is  it  credible,  the 
God  who  made  these  two  men,  who  thorough- 
ly knows  them,  who  is  the  common  parent, 
tlie  just  governor,  and  the  kind  benefactor  of 
both,  should  require  of  men  so  different,  equal 
belief  and  practice?     Were  such  a  thiny  sup- 


XXXIV 


REV.  R.  ROBINSONS  PREFACE. 


posable,  how  unequal  and  disproportional, 
how  inadequate  and  unlike  himself  must  such 
a  Deity  be  !  To  grasp  the  terraqueous  globe 
with  a  human  hand,  to  make  a  tulip-cup  con- 
tain the  ocean,  to  gather  all  the  light  of  the 
universe  into  one  human  eye,  to  hide  the  sun 
in  a  snuff-box,  are  the  mighty  projects  of  chil- 
dren's fancies.  Is  it  possible,  requisitions  sim- 
ilar to  these  should  proceed  from  the  only 
wise  God ! 

There  is,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  a  cer- 
tain portion  of  spirit,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to 
speak  so,  that  constitutes  a  human  soul ;  there 
are  infinitely    different  degrees  of  capability 
imparted  by  the  Creator  to  the  souls   of  man- 
kind ;  and  there  is  a  certain  ratio  by  necessity 
of  nature,  between  each  degree  of  intelligence 
and  a  given  number  of  ideas,  as  there   is   be- 
tween  a   cup  capable  of  containing  a  given 
quantity,  and  a  quantity  of  matter   capable 
of   being    contained  in  it.      In  certain  cases 
it  might  serve  my  interest  could  the  palm 
of  my  hand  contain  a  hogshead  :  but  in  gen- 
eral my  interest  is  better  served  by  an  inabili- 
ty to  contain  so  much.     We  apply  these  cer- 
tain principles  to  revelation,  and  we  say,  God 
hath  given  in  the  Christian  religion  an  infinite 
multitude  of  ideas  ;  as  in  nature  he  hath  created 
an  infinite  multitude   of  objects.     These   ob- 
jects are  diversified  without  end,  they  are  of 
various  sizes,  colours,  and  shapes,  and  they  are 
capable  of  innumerable  motions,  productive  of 
multifarious  effects,  and  all  placed  in  various 
degrees  of  perspicuity ;  objects  of  thought  in 
the  Christian  religion  are  exactly  similar;  there 
is  no  end  of  their  variety;  God  and  all  his  per- 
fections, man  and  all  his  operations,  the  being 
and    employment    of    superior    holy   spirits, 
the   existence    and  dispositions    of  fallen  spir- 
its, the  creation  and  government  of  the  whole 
world  of  matter,  and  that  of  spirit,  the  influen- 
ces of  Gbd  and  the  obligations  of  men,  the  dis- 
solution of  the  universe,  a  resurrection,  a  judg- 
ment, a  heaven,  and  a  hell,  all  these,  placed 
in  various  degrees  of  perspicuity,  are  exhibited 
in  religion  to  the  contemplation   of  intelligent 
creatures.     The  creatures,  who  are  required 
to  contemplate  these  objects,  have  various  de- 
grees of  contemplative  ability;  and  their  du- 
ty, and  consequently  their  virtue,  which  is  no- 
thing else  but  a  performance  of  duty,  consists 
in  applying  all  their  ability  to  understand  as 
many  of  these  objects,  that  is,  to  form  as  many 
ideas  of  them,  as  are  apportioned  to  their  own 
degree.     So  many  objects  they  are  capable  of 
seeing,  so  many  objects  it  is  their  duty  to  see. 
So  much  of  each   object  they  are  capable  of 
comprehending,  so  much  of  each  object  it  is 
their  duty  to  comprehend.     So  many  "emotions 
they  are  capable  of  exercising,  so  many  emo- 
tions  it  is  their  duty  to  exercise.     So  many 
acts  of  devotion    they  can  perform,   so   many 
Almighty  God  will  reward  them  for  perform- 
ing, or  punish  them  for   neglecting.     This  I 
call  the  doctrine  of  religious  proportion.    This 
I  have  a  right  to  expect  to  find  in  a  divine  re- 
vchition,  and  this  I  find  in   the  most  splendid 
maniiei  in  Christianity,  as  it  lies  in  the  Bible, 
as  it  was  in  the  first  churches,  and   as  it  is  in 
some   modern   communities.     I  wish  I  could 
»xohange  the  word  some  for  all. 


This  doctrine  of  proportion  would  unroost 
every  human  creed  in  the  world,  at  least  it 
would  annihilate  the  imposition  of  any.  In- 
stead of  making  one  creed  for  a  whole  nation, 
which,  by  the  way,  provides  for  only  one  na- 
tion, and  consigns  over  the  rest  of  the  world 
to  the  destroyer  of  mankind  ;  instead  of  doing 
so,  there  should  be  as  many  creeds  as  crea- 
tures ;  and  instead  of  affirming,  the  belief  of 
three  hundred  propositions  is  essential  to  the 
felicity  of  every  man  in  both  worlds,  we  ought 
to  affirm,  the  belief  of  half  a  proposition  is  es- 
sential to  the  salvation  of  JVIary,  and  the  belief 
of  a  whole  one  to  that  of  John,  the  belief  of  six 
propositions,  or,  more  properly  the  examina- 
tion of  six  propositions,  is  essential  to  the  sal- 
vation of  the  reverend  Edward,  and  the  exam- 
ination of  sixty  to  that  of  the  right  reverend 
Richard  ;  for,  if  I  can  prove,  one  has  sixty  de- 
grees of  capacity,  another  six,  and  another  one, 
I  can  easily  prove,  it  would  be  unjust  to  re- 
quire the  same  exercises  of  all ;  and  a  cham- 
pion ascribing  such  injustice  to  God  would  be 
no  formidable  adversary  for  the  pompousness 
of  his  challenge,  or  the  caparisons  of  his  horse  ; 
his  very  sword  could  not  conquer,  though  it 
might  affright  from  tlie  field. 

The  world  and  revelation,  both  the  work  of 
the  same  God,  are  both  constructed  on  the 
same  principles  ;  and  were  the  book  of  scrip- 
ture like  that  of  nature  laid  open  to  universal 
inspection,  were  all  ideas  of  temporal  re- 
wards and  punishments  removed  from  the  stu- 
dy of  it,  that  would  come  to  pass  in  the  moral 
World,  which  has  actually  happened  in  the 
world  of  human  science,  each  capacity  would 
find  its  own  object,  and  take  its  own  quantum. 
Newtons  will  find  stars  without  penalties.  Mil- 
tons  will  be  poets,  and  Lardners  Christians 
without  rewards.  Calvins  will  contemplate 
the  decrees  of  God,  and  Baxters  will  try  to 
assort  them  with  the  spontaneous  volitions  of 
men  ;  all,  like  the  celestial  bodies,  will  roll  on 
in  the  quiet  majesty  of  simple  propoition,  each 
in  his  proper  sphere  shining  to  the  glory  of 
God  the  Creator.  But  alas  I  lie  have  not  so 
learned  Christ  ! 

Were  this  docti'ine  of  proportion  allow- 
ed, three  consequences  would  follow.  First, 
Subscription  to  human  creeds,  with  all  their 
appendages,  both  penal  and  pompous,  would 
roll  back  into  the  turbulent  ocean,  the  6'ea  I 
mean,  from  whence  they  came ;  the  Bible 
would  remain  a  placid  emanation  of  wisdom 
from  God  ;  and  the  belief  of  it  a  sufficient  test 
of  the  obedience  of  his  people.  Secondly, 
Christians  would  be  freed  from  the  inhuman 
necessity  of  execrating  one  another,  and  by 
placing  Christianity  in  believing  in  Christ,  and 
not  in  believing  in  one  another,  they  would 
rid  revelation  of  those  hitolerable  abuscs,which 
are  fountains  of  sorrow  to  Christians,  and  sour- 
ces of  arguments  to  infidels.  Thirdly,  Oppor- 
tunity would  be  given  to  believers  in  Christ 
to  exercise  those  dispositions,  which  the  pre- 
sent disproportional  division  of  this  common 
benefit  obliges  them  to  suj)press,  or  conceal. 
O  cruel  theolosry,  that  makes  it  a  crime  to  do 
what  1  have  neither  a  right  nor  n  power  to 
leave  undone! 

I  caW  prrfectiam  []\ndi  ncccstary  character 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


XXXY 


of  a  Divine  revelation.  Ecery  production  of 
an  intelligent  being  bears  the  characters  of  the 
int€lligence  that  produced  it,/or  as  the  man  is, 
10  is  his  strength,  Judg.  viii.  21.  A  weak  ge- 
nius produces  a  work  imperfect  and  weak  like 
itself.  A  wise,  good  being,  produces  a  work 
wise  and  good,  and,  if  his  power  be  equ.il  to 
his  wisdom  and  goodness,  his  work  will  resem- 
ble himself,  and  such  a  degree  of  wisdom,  ani- 
mated by  an  equal  degree  of  goodness,  and  as- 
sisted by  an  equal  degree  of  power,  will  pro- 
duce a  work  equally  wise,  equally  beneficial, 
equally  effectual.  The  same  degrees  of  good- 
ness and  power  accompanied  with  only  half  the 
degree  of  wisdom,  will  produce  a  work  as  re- 
markable for  a  deficiency  of  skill  as  for  a  re- 
dundancy of  efficiency  and  benevolence.  Thus 
the  flexibility  of  the  hand  may  be  known  by 
the  writing ;  the  power  of  penetrating,  and 
combining  in  the  mind  of  the  physician,  may  be 
known  by  the  feelings  of  the  patient,  who  has 
taken  his  prescription  :  and,  by  parity  of  rea- 
son, the  uniform  perfections  of  an  invisible  God 
may  be  known  by  the  uniform  perfection  of 
his  productions. 

1  perceive,  I  must  not  launch  into  this  wide 
ocean  of  the  doctrine  of  perfection,  and  I  will 
confine  myself  to  three  characters  of  imperfec- 
tion, which  may  serve  to  explain  my  meaning. 
Proposing  to  obtain  a  great  end  without  the 
use  of  proper  means — the  employing  of  great 
means  to  obtain  no  valuable  end — and  the  de- 
stroying of  the  end  by  the  use  of  the  means 
employed  to  obtain  it,  are  three  characters  of 
imperfection  rarely  found  in  frail  intelligent 
agents  ;  and  certainly  they  can  never  be  attri- 
buted to  the  Great  Supreme.  A  violation  of 
the  doctrine  of  analogy  would  argue  God  an 
unjust  being ;  and  a  violation  of  thut  of  propor- 
tion would  prove  him  an  unkind  being  ;  and  a 
violation  of  this  of  perfection  would  argue  him 
a  being  void  of  wisdom.  Were  we  to  suppose 
him  capable  of  proposing  plans  impossible  to 
be  executed,  and  then  punishing  his  creatures 
for  not  executing  them,  we  should  attribute  to 
the  best  of  beings  the  most  odious  dispositions 
of  the  nK)st  infamous  of  mankind.  Heaven 
forbid  the  thought ! 

The  first  character  of  imperfection  is  propos- 
ing to  obtain  a  great  end  without  the  use  of 
proper  means.  To  propose  a  noble  end  argues 
a  fund  of  goodness :  but  not  to  propose  pro- 
per means  to  obtain  it  argues  a  defect  of  wis- 
dom. Christianity  proposes  the  noble  end  of 
assimilating  man  to  God  I  and  it  employs  pro- 
per means  of  obtaining  this  end.  God  is  an  in- 
telligent being,  happy  in  a  perfection  of  wisdom; 
the  gospel  assimilates  the  felicity  of  human  in- 
telligences to  that  of  the  Deity  by  communica- 
ting the  ideas  of  God  on  certain  articles  to  men. 
God  is  a  bountiful  being,  happy  in  a  pei  fection 
of  goodness;  the  gospel  assimilates  the  felicity 
of  man  to  that  of  God  by  communicating  cer- 
tain benevolent  dispositions  to  its  disciples  simi- 
lar to  the  communicative  excellencies  of  God. 
God  is  an  operative  being,  happy  in  the  dis- 
play of  exterior  works  beneficial  to  his  crea- 
tures ;  the  gospel  felicitates  man  by  directmg 
and  enabling  him  to  perform  certain  works 
beneficent  to  his  iellow-creaturc:.     God  con- 


descends to  propose  this  noble  end,  of  assimila- 
ting man  to  himself,  to  the  nature  of  mankind, 
and  not  to  certain  distinctions  foreign  from  the 
nature  of  man,  and  appendant  on  exterior  cir- 
cumstances. The  boy,  who  feeds  the  farmer's 
meanest  animals,  the  sailor,  who  spends  his 
days  on  the  ocean,  the  miner,  who,  secluded 
from  the  light  of  the  day,  and  the  society  of 
his  fellow-creatures,  spends  his  life  in  a  sub- 
terraneous cavern,  as  well  as  the  renowned 
heroes  of  mankind,  are  all  included  in  this  con- 
descending, benevolent  design  of  God.  The 
gospel  proposes  to  assimilate  all  to  God  :  but 
it  proposes  such  an  assimilation,  or,  I  may  say, 
such  a  degree  of  moral  excellence,  as  the  na- 
ture of  each  can  bear,  and  it  directs  to  means 
so  proper  to  obtain  this  end,  and  renders  these 
directions  so  extremely  plain,  that  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  designer  shines  with  the  utmost 
glory. 

I  have  sometimes  imagined  a  Pagan  ship's 
crew  in  a  vessel  under  sail  in  the  wide  ocean ; 
I  have  supposed  not  one  soul  aboard  ever  to 
have  heard  one  word  of  Christianity  ;  I  have 
imagined  a  bird  dropping  a  New  Testament 
written  in  the  language  of  the  mariners  on  the 
upper  deck ;  I  have  imaghied  a  fund  of  une- 
ducated, vmsophisticated  good  sense  in  this 
company,  and  I  have  required  of  this  little 
world  answers  to  two  questions ;  first.,  what  end 
does  this  book  propose  .■'  the  answer  is,  this 
book  "  was  written,  that  we  might  believe 
that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the  son  of  God,  and 
that  believing  we  might  have  life  through  his 
name,"  John  xx.  31.  I  ask  secondly,  what 
means  does  this  book  authorize  a  foremast  man, 
who  believes,  to  employ  to  the  rest  of  the  crew 
to  induce  them  to  believe,  that  Jesus  is  the 
Son  of  God,  and  that  believing,  they  also  with 
the  foremast  man,  may  have  eternal  felicity 
through  his  name  .-'  I  dare  not  answer  this 
question  :  but  I  dare  venture  to  guess,  should 
this  foremast  man  conceal  the  book  from  any 
of  the  crew,  he  would  be  unlike  the  God, 
who  gave  it  to  all ;  or  should  he  oblige  the 
cabin-boy  to  admit  his  explication  of  the  book, 
he  would  be  unlike  the  God,  who  requires 
the  boy  to  explain  it  to  himself;  and  should 
he  require  the  captain  to  enforce  his  explica- 
tion by  penalties,  the  captain  ought  to  reprove 
his  folly  for  counteracting  the  end  of  the  book, 
the  felicity  of  all  the  mariners ;  for  turning  a 
message  of  peace  into  an  engine  of  faction  ;  for 
employing  means  inadequate  to  the  end  ;  and 
so  for  erasing  that  character  of  perfection, 
which  the  heavenly  donor  gave  it. 

A  second  character  of  imperfection  is  the 
employing  of  great  means  to  obtain  no  vahia- 
ble  end.  Whatever  end  the  author  of  Chris- 
tianity had  in  view,  it  is  beyond  a  doubt,  he 
hath  employed  great  means  to  effect  it.  To 
use  the  language  of  a  prophet,  he  hath  "shaken 
the  heavens,  and  the  earth,  and  the  sea,  and 
the  dry  land,"  Hag.  ii.  6,  7.  When  the  de- 
sire of  all  nations  came,  universal  nature  felt 
his  approach,  and  preternatural  displays  of 
wisdom,  power,  and  goodness,  have  ever  at- 
tended his  steps.  The  most  valuable  endf 
were  answered  by  his  coming.  Convictioi 
followed  his  preaching;  and  truths,  till  then 


XXXVl 


REV.  n.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


ihut  up  in  the  eounselj  of  God,  were  actu- 
ally put  into  the  possession  of  finite  minds. 
A  general  manumission  followed  his  meritori- 
ous death,  and  the  earth  resounded  with  the 
praises  of  a  ?piritual  deliverer,  who  had  set 
the  sons  ol  honda;i-e  free.  The  laws  of  his 
empire  wore  piiMished,  and  all  his  subjects 
Wi3re  happy  in  oheyini^  them.  "  In  his  days 
the  righteous  flourished,"  and  on  his  plan, 
'abundance  of  peace  would  have  continued 
as  lonij  as  the  moon  endured,'  P-.  Ixxii.  7. 
Plenty  of  instruction,  liberty  to  examine  it, 
and  peace  in  obeying  it,  these  were  ends 
worthy  of  the  great  means  used  to  obtain 
them. 

Let  us  for  a  moment  suppose  a  subversion 
of  the  seventy-second  psalm,  from  wlience  I 
have  borrowed  these  ideas ;  let  us  imagine 
'  the  kings  of  Tarshish  and  of  the  isles  bring- 
ing presents,'  not  to  express  tlieir  homage  to 
Christ :  but  to  purchase  that  dominioi't  over 
the  consciences  of  mankind,  which  belongs  to 
Jesus  Christ ;  let  us  suppose  the  boundless 
wisdom  of  the  gospel,  and  the  innumerable 
ideas  of  inspired  men  concerning  it,  shrivelled 
up  into  the  narrow  compass  of  one  human 
creed;  let  us  suppose  liberty  of  thought  taken 
away ;  and  the  peace  of  the  world  interrupt- 
ed by  the  introduction  and  support  of  bold 
uiurpations,  dry  ceremonies,  cant  phrases, 
and  puerile  inventions  ;  in  this  supposed  case, 
the  history  of  great  means  remains,  the  worthy 
ends  to  be  answered  by  them  are  taken  away, 
and  they,  who  should  thus  deprive  mankind 
of  the  end  of  the  sacred  code  would  charge 
themselves  with  the  necessary  obligation  of 
accounting  for  this  character  of  imperfection. 
Ye  prophet-,  and  apostles  I  ye  ambassadors  of 
Christ !  "  How  do  ye  say,  we  are  wise,  and 
the  law  of  the  Lord  is  with  us  ?  Lo  !  certainly 
in  vain  made  he  it,  the  pen  of  the  scribes  is 
in  vain !"  Jer.  viii.  8.  Precaiious  wisdom 
that  must  not  be  questioned  !  useless  books, 
which  must  not  be  examined  1  vain  legislation, 
that  either  cannot  be  obeyed,  or  ruins  him  who 
obeys  it. 

All  the  ends,  that  can  be  obtained  by  hu- 
man modifications  of  divine  revelation,  can 
never  compensate  for  the  loss  of  that  di  nity, 
which  the  perfection  of  the  system,  as  God 
gave  it.  acquires  to  him  ;  nor  can  it  indemni- 
fy man  for  the  loss  of  that  sponlatiiety,  which 
J!  the  essence  of  every  effort,  that  merits  the 
name  of  human,  and  without  which  virtue  it- 
self is  nothing  but  a  name.  Must  we  destroy 
the  man  to  make  the  Christian  !  What  is 
there  in  a  scholastic  honour,  what  in  an  eccle- 
siastical emolument,  what  in  an  archiepiscopal 
throne,  to  indemnify  for  these  losses !  Jesus 
Christ  gave  his  life  a  ransom  for  men,  not  to 
empower  them  to  enjoy  these  momentary  dis- 
tinctions ;  these  are  far  inferior  to  the  noble 
ends  of  his  coming:  the  honour  of  God  and 
the  jrospel  at  large  ;  the  disinterested  exercise 
of  mental  abilities,  assimdating  the  free-born 
goul  to  its  benevolent  God  ;  a  copartnership 
with  Christ  in  promoting  the  universal  felicity 
of  all  mankind  ;  these,  these  are  ends  of  reli- 
gion worthy  of  tha  blood  of  Jesus,  and  de- 


serving the  sacrifice  of  whatever  is  called  great 
among  men. 

Thirdly,  The  destruction  of  (he  end  by  the 
use  of  the  means  employed  to  obtain  it,  is 
a'-other  character  of  imperfection.  St. 
li;'.;!  falls  Chriftianity  unity,  F-ph.  iv.  3,  &c. 
lie  denoaiinates  it  the  unity  of  the  Spirit,  on 
account  of  its  author,  oliject,  and  end.  God 
the  Supreme  Spirit,  is  the  author  of  it,  the 
sjiirits,  or  souls  of  men  are  the  (>hject,  and  the 
s()irituality  of  human  souls,  that  is,  tlie  perfec- 
tion of  wliich  finite  spirits  are  capable,  is  the 
end  of  it.  The  gospel  proposes  the  reunion 
of  men  divided  by  sin,  first  to  God.  and  then 
lo  one  another,  and,  in  order  lo  effect  it,  re- 
veals a  religion,  which  teaches  one  God,  one 
mediator  between  God  and  men,  the  man  Christ 
Jesus,  one  rule  of  faith,  one  object  of  hope,  1 
Tim.  ii,  5.  and,  lest  we  should  imagine  this 
revelation  to  admit  of  no  variet}',  we  are  told, 
Grace  is  giren  to  every  one  according  lo  the 
proportional  measui  e  of  the  gift  f)/"Christianity, 
Kach  believer  is  therefore  exhorted  to  spealt 
the  truth  in  lore,  to  ivalk  with  all  loirliness, 
meekness  and  long  suffering,  and  to  forbear 
another  in  love.  Here  is  a  character  of  per- 
fection, for  these  means  employed  to  unite 
mankind  are  productive  of  union,  the  end  of 
the  means. 

Should  men  take  up  the  gospel  in  this  sim- 
plicity ;  and,  accommodating  it  to  their  own 
imaginary  superior  wisdom,  or  to  their  own 
secular  purposes;  should  they  explain  this 
union  so  as  to  suit  their  designs,  and  employ 
means  to  protiuce  it ;  and  should  they  denom- 
inate their  system  Christianity,  it  would  cer- 
tainly be,  in  spite  of  its  name,  a  Christianity 
marked  with  the  imperfection  of  its  authors; 
for  in  the  Christian  religion,  in  the  thing  it- 
self, and  not  in  its  appellation,  shines  the  glo- 
rious character  of  perfection. 

The  Christian  religion  unites  mankind.  By 
what  common  bond  does  it  propose  to  do  so? 
By  love.  This  is  a  bond  of  perf  ctness,  a  most 
perfect  bond.  This  is  praclicaHe,  and  pro- 
ductive of  every  desirable  end,  and  the  mora 
we  study  human  nature,  the  more  fully  shall 
we  be  convinced,  that  we  cannot  imagine  any 
religion  to  do  more,  nor  need  we  desire  more, 
for  tliis  answers  every  end  of  being  religious. 
Had  Jesus  Christ  formed  his  church  on  a  sen- 
timental plan,  he  must  have  employed  many 
means,  which  he  has  not  employed,  and  he 
must  have  omitted  many  directions,  which  he 
has  given.  One  of  his  means  of  uniting  man- 
kind is  contained  in  this  direction.  Search  the 
scriptures,  and  call  no  man  your  master  upon 
earth  ;  that  is  to  say,  exercise  your  very  difter- 
ent  abilities,  assisted  by  very  different  degrees 
of  aid,  in  periodsof  very  different  duration,  and 
form  your  own  notions  of  the  doctrines  con- 
tained in  tlie  scriptures.  Is  not  this  injunction 
destructive  of  a  sentimental  union  ?  liace  ten 
thousand  spectators  in  several  circles  around  a 
statue  erected  on  a  spacious  plain,  bid  some 
look  at  it  through  magnifying  glasses,  others 
through  common  spectacles,  some  with  keen 
naked  eyes,  others  with  weak  diseased  cyea, 
each  on  a  point  of  each  circle  different  from 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


XXXVll 


that  where  another  stands,  and  all  receiving 
the  picture  of  the  object  in  the  eye  by  differ- 
ent reflections  and  refractions  of  the  rays  of 
light,  and  say,  will  not  a  command  to  look  des- 
troy the  idea  of  sentimental  union  ;  and,  if  the 
establishment  of  an  exact  union  of  sentiment 
be  the  end,  will  not  looking,  the  mean  ap- 
pointed to  obtain  it,  actually  destroy  it,  and 
would  not  such  a  projector  of  uniformity  mark 
his  system  with  imperfection  ? 

Had  Jesus  Christ  formed  his  Church  on  the 
plan  of  a  ceremonial  union,  or  on  that  of  a 
professional  union,  it  is  easy  to  see,  the  same 
reasoning  might  be  applied,  the  laws  of  such  a 
legislator  would  counteract  and  destroy  one 
another,  and  a  system  so  unconnected  would 
discover  the  imperfection  of  its  author,  and 
provide  for  the  ruin  of  itself. 

These  principles  being  allowed,  we  proceed 
to  examine  the  doctrines  of  Christianity,  as 
they  are  presented  to  an  inquisitive  man,  en- 
tirely at  liberty  to  choose  his  religion,  by  our 
different  churches  in  their  several  creeds.  The 
church  of  Rome  lays  before  me  the  decisions 
of  the  council  of  Trent ;  the  Lutheran  church 
the  confession  of  Augsburg :  one  nation  gives 
me  one  account  of  Christianity,  another  a 
different  account  of  it,  a  third  contradicts  the 
other  two,  and  no  two  creeds  agree.  The 
difference  of  these  systems  obliges  me  to  al- 
low, they  could  not  all  proceed  from  any  one 
person,  and  much  less  could  they  all  proceed 
from  such  a  person,  as  all  Christians  affirm 
Jesus  Christ  to  be.  I  am  driven,  then,  to  ex- 
amine his  account  of  his  own  religion  contain- 
ed in  the  allowed  standard  book,  to  which  they 
all  appeal,  and  here  I  find,  or  think  I  find,  a 
right  of  reduction,  that  removes  all  those  sus- 
picions, which  variety  in  human  creeds  had 
excited  in  my  mind  concerning  the  truth  of 
Christianity. 

The  doctrines  of  Christianity,  I  presume  to 
guess,  according  to  the  usual  sense  of  the 
phrase,  are  divisible  into  two  classes.  The 
first  contains  the  principal  truths,  the  pure 
genuine  theology  of  Jesus  Christ,  essential  to 
the  system,  and  in  which  all  Christians  in  our 
various  communities  agree.  I'he  other  class 
consists  of  those  less  important  propositions, 
which  are  meant  to  serve  as  explications  of  the 
principal  truths.  The  first  is  the  matter  of 
our  holy  religion,  the  last  is  our  conception  of 
the  manner  of  its  operation.  In  the  first  we 
all  agree,  in  the  last  our  benevolent  religion, 
constructed  by  principles  of  analogy,  propor- 
tion, and  perfection,  both  enjoins  and  empow- 
ers us  to  agree  to  dill'er.  The  nrst  is  the 
light  of  the  world,  the  last  our  sentiments 
on  its  nature,  or  our  distribution  of  its  effects. 

In  general  each  church  calls  its  own  creed  a 
system  of  Christianity,  a  body  of  Christian 
doctrine,  and  perhaps  not  improperly :  but 
then  each  divine  ought  to  distinguish  that  part 
of  his  system,  which  is  pure  revelation,  and 
so  stands  confessedly  the  doctrine  of  Jesus 
Christ,  from  that  other  part,  which  is  human 
explication,  and  so  maybe  either  true  or  false, 
clear  or  obscure,  presumptive  or  demonstra- 
tive, according  to  the  abilities  of  the  explainer, 

F 


who  compiled  the  creed.  Without  this  dis- 
tinction, we  may  incorporate  all  our  opinions 
with  the  infallible  revelations  of  Heaven,  we 
may  imagine  each  article  of  our  belief  essen- 
tial to  Christianity  itself,  we  may  subjoin  a 
human  codicil  to  a  djivine  testament,  and  at- 
tribute equal  authenticity  to  both,  we  may 
account  a  proposition  confirmed  by  a  synodical 
seal  as  fully  authenticated  as  a  truth  confirmed 
by  an  apostolical  miracle,  and  so  we  may 
bring  ourselves  to  rank  a  conscientious  disciple 
of  Christ,  who  denies  the  necessity  of  episco- 
pal ordination,  with  a  brazen  disciple  of  the 
devil,  who  denies  the  truth  of  revelation,  and 
pretends  to  doubt  the  being  of  a  God. 

But  here,  I  feel  again  the  force  of  that  ob- 
servation, with  which  this  preface  begins. 
How  few,  comparatively,  will  allow,  that  such 
a  reduction  of  a  laige  system  to  a  very  small 
number  of  clear,  indisputable,  essential  first 
principles,  will  serve  the  cause  of  Christianity! 
How  many  v.rill  pretend  to  think  such  a  reduc- 
tion dangerous  to  thirty-five  out  of  thirty-nine 
articles  of  faith !  How  many  will  confound  a 
denial  of  the  essentiality  (so  to  speak)  of  a 
proposition,  with  a  denial  of  the  truth  of  it ! 
How  many  will  go  further  still,  and  execrate 
the  latitudinarian,  who  presumes  in  this  man- 
ner to  subvert  Christianity  itself!  I  rejoice  in 
prospect  of  that  "  day,  when  God  shall  judge 
the  secrets  of  men  by  Jesus  Christ  according 
to  his  gospel,"  Rom.  ii.  16,  when  we  shall 
stand  not  at  the  tribunal  of  human  prejudices 
and  passions,  but  at  the  just  bar  of  a  clement 
God.  Here,  were  I  only  concerned,  I  would 
rest,  and  my  answer  to  all  complainants  should 
be  a  respectful  silence  before- their  oracles  of 
reason  and  religion  :  but  alas !  I  have  nine 
children,  and  my  ambition  is  (if  it  be  not  an 
unpardonable  presumption  to  compare  insects 
with  angels,)  my  ambition  is  to  engage  them  to 
treat  a  spirit  of  intolerance,  as  Hamilcar 
taught  Hannibal  to  treat  the  old  Roman  spirit 
of  universal  dominion.  The  enthusiastic 
Carthaginian  parent  going  to  offer  a  sacrifice 
to  Jupiter  for  the  success  of  an  intended  war, 
took  with  him  his  little  son  Hannibal,  then  only 
nine  years  of  age,  and  eager  to  accompany  his 
fatlier,  led  him  to  the  altar,  made  him  lay  his 
little  hand  on  the  sacrifice,  and  swear  that  he 
would  never  be  in  friendship  with  the  Romans. 
We  may  sanctify  this  thought  by  transferring 
it  to  other  objects,  and  while  we  sing  in  the 
church  glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  vow  per- 
petual peace  with  all  mankind,  and  reject  all 
weapons  except  those  which  are  spiritual,  we 
may,  we  must  declare  war  against  a  spirit  of 
intolerance  from  generation  to  generation. 
Thus  Moses  wrote  "  a  memorial  in  a  book,  re- 
hearsed it  in  the  ears  of  Joshua,  built  an  altar, 
called  the  name  of  it  Jehovah  my  banner,  and 
said.  The  Lord  hath  sworn,  that  the  Lord  will 
have  war  with  Amalek  from  generation  to 
generation,"   Exod.  xvii.  14 — 16. 

We  are  neither  going  to  contra?t  human 
creeds  with  one  another,  nor  with  the  Bible ; 
we  are  not  going  to  affirm  or  deny  any  propo- 
sitions contained  in  them ;  we  only  design  to 
prove,  that  all  consist  of  human   explications 


XXXVlll 


REV.  R,  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


as  well  as  divine  revelation,  and  consequently 
that  all  arc  not  of  equal  importance,  nor  ought 
any  to  be  imposed  upon  the  disciples  of  Christ, 
either  by  those  who  are  not  disciples  of  the 
Son  of  God,  or  by  those  who  are.  The  sub- 
ject is  delicate  and  difficult,  not  through  any 
intricacy  in  itself,  but  through  a  certain  infeli- 
city of  the  times.  An  error  on  the  one  side 
may  be  fatal  to  revelation,  by  alluring  us  to 
sacrifice  the  pure  doctrines  of  religion  to  a 
blind  benevolence  ;  and  on  the  other  an  error 
may  be  fatal  to  religion  itself  by  inducing  us 
to  make  it  a  patron  of  intolerance.  We  re- 
peat it  again,  a  system  of  Christian  doctrine 
is  the  object  of  Christian  liberty  ;  the  articles, 
which  compose  a  human  system  of  Christian 
doctrine,  are  divisible  into  the  two  classes  of 
doctrines  and  explications:  the  first  we  attri- 
bute to  Christ,  and  call  Christian  doctrines, 
the  last  to  some  of  his  disciples,  and  these  we 
call  Awman explications;  the  first  are  true,  the 
last  may  be  so  ;  the  first  execrate  intolerance, 
the  last  cannot  be  supported  without  the  spirit 
of  it.  I  will  endeavour  to  explain  my  meaning 
by  an  example : 

Every  believer  of  revelation  allows  the 
aothenticity  of  this  passage  of  holy  Scripture, 
•*  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his 
only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth 
in  him  should  not  perish,  but  hare  everlasting 
life,"  John  iii.  16.  If  we  cast  this  intopropo- 
sitional  form,  it  will  afibrd  as  many  propo- 
sitions as  it  contains  ideas.  Each  idea  clearly 
contained  in  the  text  I  call  an  idea  of  Jesus 
Christ,  a  Christian  sentiment,  a  truth  of  reve- 
lation, in  a  word,  a  Christian  doctrine.  Each 
of  these  ideas  of  the  text,  in  forming  itself 
into  a  proposition,  will  naturally  associate  with 
itself  a  few  other  ideas  of  the  expletive  kind, 
these  I  call  secondary  ideas,  in  distinction  from 
the  first,  which  I  call  primary  ;  or,  in  plainer 
etyle,  ideas  clearly  of  the  text  I  name  Chris- 
tian doctrines,  or  doctrines  of  Christ,  and  all 
the  rest  I  call  human  explications  of  these  doc- 
trines ;  they  may  be  Christian,  they  may  not ; 
for  I  am  not  sure,  that  the  next  idea,  which 
always  follows  a  first  in  my  mind,  was  the  next 
idea  to  the  first  in  the  mind  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
the  first  is  certainly  his,  he  declares  it,  the  se- 
cond might  be  his  ;  but  as  he  is  silent,  I  can 
eay  nothing  certain ;  where  he  stops,  ray  infal- 
libility ends,  and  my  uncertain  reason  begins. 

The  following  propositions  are  evidently  in 
the  text,  and  consequently  they  are  Christian 
doctrines  emanating  from  the  author  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  pausing  to  be  examined  before  the 
intelligent  powers  of  his  creatures. — There  is 
an  everlasting  life,  a  future  state  of  eternal 
happiness — the  mediation  of  the  only  begotten 
Son  of  God  is  necessary  to  men's  enjoyment 
of  eternal  happiness — believing  in  Christ  is  es- 
sential to  a  participation  of  eternal  felicity — 
€ve«y  believer  in  Christ  shall  have  everlasting 
life — unbelievers  shall  perish — all  the  blessings 
of  Christianity  originate  in  God,  display  his 
love,  and  are  given  to  the  world.  These,  rue- 
thinks,  we  may  venture  to  call  primary  ideas 
of  Christianity,  genuine  truths  of  revelation  : 
but  each  doctrine  will  give  occasion  to  many 
question*,  and  although  different   expositors 


will  agree  in  the  matter  of  each  proposition, 
they  will  conjecture  very  difierently  concern- 
ing the  manner  of  its  operation. 

One  disciple  of  Christ,  whom  we  call  Rich- 
ard, having  read  this  text,  having  exercised  his 
thoughts  on  the  meaning  of   it,  and  having 
arranged  them  in  the  prepositional  form  now 
mentioned,  if  he  would  convince  another  dis- 
ciple, whom  we  name  Robert,  of  the  truth 
of  any  one  of  his  propositions,  would  be  oblig- 
ed to  unfold  his  own  train  of  thinking,  which 
consists  of  an  associated  concatenation  of  ideas, 
some  of    which   are  primary   ideas   of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  others  secondary   notions    of  his 
own  ;  additions,  perhaps,  of  his  wisdom,  per- 
haps  of  his   folly,  perhaps   of  both  :  but  all, 
however,  intended  to  explicate  his  notion  of 
the  text,  and  to  facilitate  the  evidence  of  his 
notion   to  his  brother.      Robert   admits    the 
proposition,    but   not    exactly    in    Richard's 
sense.     In  this  case,  we  assort  ideas,  we  take 
what  both  allow  to  be  the  original  ideas  of  our 
common  Lord,  and  we  reckon  thus ;  here  are 
nine  ideas  in  this  proposition,  numbers  one, 
three,  six,    nine,  genuine, :  primary   ideas    of 
Christ;   numbers   two,  four,   five,   secondary 
ideas  of  Richard ;  numbers  seven,  eight,  se- 
condary ideas  of  Robert ;  the  first  constitutes 
a  divine   doctrine,  the  last  a  human  explica- 
tion; the  first  forms  one  divine  object,  the  last 
two  human  notions  of  its  mode  of  existence, 
manner  of  operation,    or    something  similar  : 
but,  be  each  what  it  may,  it  is  human  expli- 
cation, and  neither  synod  nor  senate  can  make 
it  more. 

No  divine  will  dispute  the  truth  of  this 
proposition,  God  gave  Jesus  Christ  to  believ- 
ers; for  it  is  demonstrably  in  the  text.  To 
this,  therefore,  Beza  and  Zanchy,  Melancthon 
and  Luther,  Calvin  and  Arminius,  Baxter 
and  Crisp,  agree,  all  allowing  it  a  Christian 
doctrine  :  but  each  associating  with  the  idea 
of  gift  other  ideas  of  time,  place,  relation, 
condition,  and  so  on,  explains  the  doctrine  so 
as  to  contain  all  his  own  additional  ideas. 

One  class  of  expositors  take  the  idea  of 
time,  and  by  it  explain  the  proposition.  God 
and  believers,  says  one,  are  to  be  considered 
contemplatively  before  the  creation  in  the  light 
of  Creator  and  creatures,  abstracted  from  all 
moral  considerations  whatever ;  then  God 
united  Christ  to  his  church  in  the  pure  mass 
of  creatureship,  without  the  contemplation 
of  Adam's  fall.  Another  affirms,  God  gave 
a  Saviour  to  men  in  design  before  the  exist- 
ence of  creatures  :  but  in  full  contemplation, 
however,  of  the  misery  induced  by  the  fall. 
A  third  says,  God  gave  Christ  to  believers, 
not  in  purpose  before  the  fall :  but  in  promise 
immediately  after  it.  A  fourth  adds,  God 
gives  Christ  to  believers  on  their  believi^ig, 
by  putting  them  in  possession  of  the  benefits  of 
Christianity.  In  all  these  systems,  the  ideas 
of  God,  Christ,  believers,  and  gift  remain, 
the  pure  genuine  ideas  of  the  text ;  and  the 
association  of  <ime  distinguishes  and  varies  the 
systems. 

A  second  class  of  expositors  take  the  idea 
of  relation,  and  one  affirms,  God  and  believers 
are  to  be  considered  in  the  relative  light  of 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


XXXIX 


governor  and  subjects,  the  characters  of  a 
perfect  government  are  discernible  in  the 
giving  of  a  Saviour,  justice  vindicates  the 
honour  of  government  by  punishing  some, 
mercy  displays  the  benefit  of  government 
by  pardoning  others,  and  royal  preroga- 
tive both  disculpates  and  elevates  the  guilty  ; 
however,  as  the  governor  is  a  God,  he  retains 
and  displays  his  absolute  right  of  dispensing 
his  favours  as  he  pleases.  A  second  says, 
God  and  believers  are  to  be  considered  in  the 
light  of  parent  and  children,  and  Christ  is  not 
given  to  believers  according  to  mere  maxims 
of  exact  government :  but  he  is  bestowed  by 
God,  the  common  Father,  impartially  on  all 
his  children.  A  third  says,  God  and  believers 
are  to  be  considered  in  the  light  of  master  and 
servants,  and  God  rewards  the  imperfect 
services  of  his  creatures  with  the  rich  benefits 
of  Christianity.  A  fourth  considers  God  and 
believers  in  the  relation  of  king  and  en7isorf, 
and  say,  God  gave  Christianity  as  an  unalie- 
nable dowry  to  his  chosen  associate.  In  all 
these  systems,  God,  Christ,  believers,  and 
gift  remain,  the  pure  genuine  ideas  of  the 
text ;  and  the  association  of  the  idea  o{  relation 
distinguishes  and  varies  the  systems. 

In  general,  we  form  the  ideas  of  the  Su- 
preme Bein^,  and  we  think,  such  a  Being 
ought  to  act  so  and  so,  and  therefore  we 
conclude  he  does  act  so  and  so.  God  gives 
Christ  to  believers  conditionally,  says  one  ;  for 
so  it  becomes  a  holyBeing  to  bestow  all  his  gifts. 
God  gives  Christ  unconditionally,  says  ano- 
ther; tor  so  it  becomes  a  merciful  Being  to 
bestow  his  gifts  on  the  miserable.  I  repeat  it 
again,  opposite  as  these  may  appear,  they  both 
retain  the  notions  of  the  same  God,  the  same 
Jesus,  the  same  believers,  the  same  giving : 
but  an  idea  concerning  thejiltcsl  ivay  of  bestow- 
ing the  gift,  distinguishes  and  varies  the  sys- 
tems. I  call  it  the  same  giving,  because  all 
divines,  even  they  who  go  most  into  a  scheme 
of  conditional  salvation,  allow,  that  Christ  is 
a  blessing  infinitely  beyond  all  that  is  due  to 
the  conditions  which  they  perform  in  order  to 
their  enjoyment  of  him. 

Let  us  for  a  moment  suppose,  that  this  pro- 
position, God  gives  Christ  to  believers,  is  the 
whole  of  revelation  on  this  subject.  A  divine, 
who  should  affirm,  that  his  ideas  of  time,  rela- 
tion, and  condition,  were  necessarily  contained 
in  this  Scripture ;  that  his  whole  thesis  was  a 
doctrine  of  Christianity ;  and  that  the  belief 
of  it  was  essential  to  salvation  ;  would  affirm 
the  most  palpable  absurdities  ;  for,  although 
the  proposition  does  say,  Christ  is  God's  gift 
to  believers,  yet  it  does  neither  say,  when 
God  bestowed  this  gift,  nor  why  he  bestowed 
it,  nor  that  a  precise  knowledge  of  the  7node 
of  donation  is  essentially  requisite  to  salvation. 
That  God  gave  the  world  a  Saviour  in  the 
person  of  Jesus  is  a  fact  affirmed  by  Christ 
in  this  proposition,  and  therefore  a  Christian 
doctrine.  That  he  made  the  donation  abso- 
lutely or  conditionally,  before  the  fall  or  after 
it,  reversibly  or  irrevocably,  the  proposition 
does  not  affirm  ;  and  therefore  every  proposi- 
tion including  any  of  these  ideas  is  an  article 
of  belief  containing  a  Christian  doctrine  and 


a  human  explication,  and  consequently  it  lies 
before  an  examiner  in  different  degrees  of  eri- 
dence  and  importance. 

Suppose  a  man  were  required  to  belieye  thii 
proposition,  God  gave  Jesus  to  believers  abso- 
lutely; or  this,  God  gave  Jesus  to  believers 
conditionally  ;  it  is  not  impossible,  the  whole 
preposition  might  be  proved  ariginal,  genuine, 
primary  doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ.  Our  pro- 
position in  this  text  could  not  prove  it,  and 
were  this  the  whole  of  our  information  on 
this  article,  conditionally  and  unconditionally 
would  be  human  explications :  but,  if  Christ 
has  given  us,  in  any  other  part  of  revelation^ 
more  instruction  on  this  subject ;  if  he  any 
where  affirm,  either  that  he  was  given  on 
certain  conditions  to  be  performed  by  believ- 
ers, or  tliat  he  was  not  given  so,  then  indeed 
we  may  associate  the  ideas  of  one  text  with 
those  of  another,  and  so  form  of  the  whole  a 
genuine  Christian  doctrine. 

When  we  have  thus  selected  the  instruc- 
tions of  our  divine  Master  from  the  opinions  of 
our  fellow  pupils,  we  should  suppose  these 
questions  would  naturally  arise.  Is  a  belief  of 
all  the  doctrines  of  Christ  essential  to  salva- 
tion ?  If  not,  which  are  the  essential  truths  ? 
If  the  parable  of  the  talents  be  allowed  a  part 
of  his  doctrine,  and  if  the  doctrine  of  propor- 
tion taught  in  that  parable  be  true,  it  should 
seem,  the  belief  of  Christian  doctrines  must  be 
proportioned  to  exterior  evidence  and  interi- 
or ability ;  and  on  these  principles  should 
a  congregation  of  five  hundred  Christians  put 
these  questions,  they  must  receive  five  hun- 
dred different  answers.  JVho  is  sufficient  for 
these  things!  Let  us  renounce  our  inclina- 
tions to  damn  our  fellow-creatures.  Let  us 
excite  all  to  faith  and  repentance,  and  let  us 
leave  the  decision  of  their  destiny  to  Almigh- 
ty God.  "  When  Christ  cometh  he  will  tell 
Hs  all  things,"  John  iv.  25;  till  then  let  us  wait, 
lest  we  should  scatter  "  firebrands,  arrows, 
and  death,"  and  "make  the  hearts  of  the  righ- 
teous sad,  whom  the  Lord  hath  not  made  sad," 
Prov.  xxvi.  18,  19;  Ezek.  xii.  23.  How 
many  doctrines  are  essential  to  salvation, 
seems  to  me  exactly  such  a  question,  as  How 
much  food  is  essential  to  animal  life  ? 

We  will  venture  to  go  a  step  further.  Were 
we  as  capable  of  determining  the  exact  ratio 
between  any  particular  mind  and  a  given 
number  of  ideas,  as  we  are  of  determining 
how  many  feet  of  water  a  vessel  of  a  given 
burden  must  draw;  and  were  we  able  so  to 
determine  how  much  faith  in  how  many  doc- 
trines was  essential  to  the  holiness,  and  so  to 
the  happiness  of  such  a  soul ;  we  shall  not 
then  entertain  a  vain  notion  of  exacting  by 
force  these  rights  of  God  of  his  creature. 
For,  first,  the  same  proportion,  which  renders 
a  certain  number  of  ideas  as  essential  to  the 
happiness  of  an  intelligent  mind,  renders  this 
number  of  ideas  so  clear,  that  they  establish 
themselves  and  need  no  imposition.  Secondly, 
the  nature  of  faith  does  not  admit  of  imposi- 
tion ;  it  signifies  nothing  to  say,  kings  com- 
mand it ;  if  angels  commanded  it,  they  would 
require  an  impossibility,  and  exact  that  of  me, 
whicii  they  themselves    could  not  perform. 


Thirdly,  God  has  appointed  no  means  to  en- 
force belief,  he  has  nominated  no  vicegerents 
to  do  this,  he  has  expressly  forbidden  the  at- 
tempt. Fourthly,  the  means  that  one  man 
must  employ  to  impose  his  creed  on  another, 
are  all  iiel'arious,  and  damn  a  sinner  to  make 
a  saint.  Fifthly,  imposition  of  human  creeds 
has  produced  so  much  mischief  in  the  world, 
so  many  divisions  among  Christians,  and  so 
many  execrable  actions,  attended  with  no  one 
good  end  to  religion,  that  the  repetition  of  this 
crime  would  argue  a  soul  infested  with  the 
grossest  ignorance,  or  the  most  stubborn  ob- 
stinacy imaginable.  Sixthly,  dominion  over 
conscience  is  that  part  of  God's  empire,  of 
■which  he  is  most  jealous.  The  imposition  of 
a  human  creed  is  a  third  action,  and  before 
any  man  can  perform  it,  he  must  do  two 
other  exploits,  he  must  usurp  the  throne,  and 
claim  the  slave.  How  many  more  reasons 
might  be  added  I  From  a  cool  examination 
of  the  nature  of  God — the  nature  of  man — 
the  nature  of  Christianity — the  nature  of  all 
powers  within  the  compass  of  human  thought 
to  employ — the  history  of  past  times-.— the  state 
of  the  present — in  a  word,  of  every  idea  that 
belongs  to  the  imposition  of  a  human  creed, 
"we  venture  to  affirm,  the  attempt  is  irrational, 
unscriptural,  impracticable,  impossible.  Creed 
is  belief,  and  the  production  of  belief  by  penal 
•anctions  neither  is,  nor  was,  nor  is  to  come. 
The  project  never  entered  the  mind  of  a  pro- 
fessor of  any  science  except  that  of  theology. 
It  is  liigh  time  theologists  should  explode  it. 
The  glorious  pretence  of  establishing  by  force 
implicit  belief  sliould  be  lef  to  the  little  ty- 
rant of  a  country  school ;  let  him  lay  down 
dry  documents,  gird  false  rules  close  about 
other  men's  sons,  lash  docility  into  vanity, 
stupidity,  or  madness,  and  justify  his  violence 
by  spluttering.  Sic  volo,  sic  jubeo,  stat  pro  ra- 
tione  volimlcii. 

AVere  Christians  sincere  in  their  professions 
of  moderation,  candour,  and  love,  they  would 
settle  this  preliminary  article  of  impositioiv, 
and,  this  given  up,  there  would  be  nothing  else 
to  dispute.  Our  objections  lie  neither  against 
surplice  nor  service-book;  but  against  the 
imposition  of  them.  Let  one  party  of  Chris- 
tians worship  God  as  their  consciences  direct: 
but  let  other  parties  forleit  nothing  for  doing 
the  same.  It  may  appear  conjectural  ;  but 
it  is  sincerely  true,  theological  war  is  the  most 
futile  and  expensive  contest,  theological  peace 
the  cheapest  acquisition  in  the  world. 

Although  the  distinction  of  a  divine  revela- 
tion from  a  human  explication  is  just  and  ne- 
cessary, although  the  principles  of  analogy, 
proportion,  :uid  perfection,  are  undeniable, 
and  although,  considered  as  a  theory,  the  na- 
ture and  necessity  of  universal  toleration  will 
be  allowed  to  be  as  clear  and  demonstrative 
as  possible,  yet,  we  are  well  aware,  the  allow- 
ance of  these  articles  in  all  their  fair,  just, 
necessary  consequences,  would  be  so  inimical 
to  many  dispositions,  and  so  efiectually  sub- 
versive of  so  many  selfish  interested  systems, 
that  we  entertain  no  hopes  of  ever  seeing  tlie 
theory  generally  reduced  to  practice.  Hea- 
ven may  exhibit  a  scene  ol  universal  love,  and 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


it  is  glorious  to  Christianity  to  propose  it; 
it  is  an  idea  replete  with  ecstatic  joy,  and, 
thanks  be  to  God,  it  is  more  than  an  idea,  it 
is  a  law  in  many  Christian  churches,  alas ! 
little  known,  and  less  imitated  by  the  rest  of 
their  brethren.  There  is  "  a  remnant  of  Ja- 
cob in  the  midst  of  many  people,  as  a  dew 
from  the  Lord,  as  the  showers  upon  the  grass, 
that  tarrieth  not  for  man,  nor  waiteth  for  the 
sons  of  men,"  Micah  v.  7.  These  may  cheer- 
fully adopt  the  prophet's  exultation,  "  Re- 
joice not  against  me,  O  mine  enemy !  If  I  fall, 
I  shall  arise  ;  when  I  sit  in  darkness  the  Lord 
shall  be  a  light  unto  me,  he  will  bring  me 
forth  to  the  light,  and  I  shall  behold  his  right- 
eousness," chap.  vii.  8.  "  In  the  day  that  mj 
walls  are  to  be  built,  in  that  day  shall  human 
decrees  concerning  conscience  be  far  removed," 
ver.   11. 

On  these  general  principles  the  sermons  in 
this  volume  are  selected,  and  on  these  the 
reader  will  at  once  perceive  why  it  does  not 
contain  the  whole  system  of  any  one  subscri- 
ber, or  the  whole  system  of  the  author.  Each 
contains  primary  truths,  which  all  allow, 
and  secondary  explications,  which  some  be- 
lieve, which  others  doubt,  and  which  some  de- 
ny. I  have  not  been  able  to  form  the  volume 
wholly  on  this  plan  -,  but  I  have  endeavoured 
to  approach  it  as  nearly  as  my  materials  would 
permit. 

The  first  sermon  is  introductory,  and  exhib- 
its Jesus  Christ  on  the  throne  in  the  Christian 
church,  solely  vested  with  legislative  and  ex- 
ecutive power,  prohibiting  the  exercise  of  ei- 
ther in  cases  of  religion  and  conscience  to  all 
mankind.  The  twelve  following  sermons  pro- 
pose fortr  objects  to  our  contemplation,  as 
Christianity  represents  them.  The  first  is  man, 
in  his  natural  dignity,  his  proridential  appoint- 
ment, and  his  moral  inability.  The  second  is 
Jesus  Christ  meditating  between  God  and  men, 
and  opening  by  what  he  did  and  suffered  our 
access  to  immortal  felicity.  The  sermon  on 
the  dignity  of  our  Lord,  in  this  part,  will  be 
considered  by  some  as  a  principal,  essential 
doctrine,  while  others  will  account  it  Mr. 
Saurin's  explication  of  a  doctrine  of  ineffa- 
ble dignity,  which  they  allow,  but  which 
they  explain  in  another  manner.  The 
third  object  proposed  is  the  mode  of  parli- 
cipnling  the  benefits  of  Christ's  media- 
tion, as  faith,  repentance,  and  so  on.  The 
fourth  consists  of  jno/tre  o6/ec/5  of  Christianity; 
so  I  venture  to  call  the  Christian  doctrines  of 
judgment,  heaven,  and  hell,  belief  of  which 
gives  animation  and  energy  to  action.  The 
last  sermon  is  recapitulatory,  and  proves,  that 
variety  is  compatible  with  uniformity,  yea, 
that  uniformity  necessarily  produces  variety. 
AVhen  I  call  this  volume.  Sermons  on  the  prin- 
cipal doctrines  of  Christianity,  I  mean  to  af- 
firm, it  contains  a  general  view  of  the  most  ob- 
Tious,  and  the  least  disputable  articles  of 
Christian  theology,  according  to  the  notions  of 
the  French  reformed  churches. 

I  have  only  to  add  my  sincere  prayers  to 
the  God  of  all  grace,  that  he  may  enable  us 
all  to  "  put  on  this  armour  of  God,  that  we 
may  be  able  to   withstand  in  this   evil  day, 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


xli 


and  having  done  all,  to  stand  ;  for  we  wrestle 
a^^ainstthe  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  world, 
ag-ainst  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places," 
Eph.  vi.  11 — 13.  May  he  grant,  "that  we 
henceforth  be  no  more  children,  tossed  to 
and  fro,  and  carried  about  with  every  wind  of 
doctrine,  by  the  sleight  of  men,  and  cunning 
craftiness,whereby  they  lie  in  wait  to  deceive," 
Eph.  iv.  14,15.  '■  Speaking  the  truth  in  love, 
may  we  grow  up  into  him  in  all  things,  who  is 
the  head,  even  Christ,  to  whom  alone  be  do- 
minion over  conscience  for  ever    and  ever !" 


Amen. 

Chesterton,  Juhj  10,  1777. 


R.  R. 


This  volume*  is  a  sketch  of  Christian  mo- 
rality, such  as  the  sermons  of  Mr.  Saurin  afford. 
Had  the  author  drawn  them  up  with  a  partic- 
ular design  of  exhibiting  a  full  view  of  the 
subject,  he  would  have  assorted  and  arranged 
ideas,  which  now  lie  dispersed  and  intermixed. 
However,  we  trust  the  arrangement  will  ap- 
pear neither  improper  nor  unedifying. 

There  are  two  general  opinions  among  di- 
vines concerning  the  origin  of  morality  and  re- 
ligion. Some  suppose,  that  all  the  knowledge 
which  the  world  ever  had  of  these  subjects, 
was  at  first  revealed,  and  hath  been  continued 
to  this  day  by  tradition.  Others,  on  the  con- 
trary, think,  that  without  revelation  men  may, 
and  actually  do,  by  the  mere  exercise  of  their 
natural  powers,  discover  the  being  of  a  God, 
and  the  consequent  obligations  of  men.  Both 
classes,  however,  affirm,  that  revelation  gives 
force  to  moral  duties,  and  so  is  essential  to  the 
practice  of  real  virtue. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  enter  into  disputa- 
tion ;  we  will  content  ourselves  with  a  few  plain 
remarks  on  the  nature  and  obligations  of  men, 
and  on  the  moral  influence  of  the  gospel ;  and, 
for  this  purpose,  we  will  divide  the  subject  in- 
to three  parts,  and  consider  first,  nature  ;  se- 
condly, obligation  ;  and  lastly,  motive. 

1.  Nature.  There  is  hardly  a  word  in  the 
English  language  of  more  vague  and  indeter- 
minate meaning  than  the  word  nature.  In 
this  place  I  mean,  by  it  the  native  state,  pro- 
perties, and  peculiarities  of  men.  If  man  be 
a  creature  consisting  of  soul  and  body  ;  if  each 
individual  hath  properties,  powers,  or  facul- 
ties, peculiar  to  itself;  obligation  to  employ 
these  to  the  ends  for  which  they  were  intended 
by  the  Creator,  must  necessarily  follow.  An- 
cient philosophy,  therefore,  connected  togeth- 
er the  natural  with  the  moral  state  of  man 
and  reasoned  from  the  one  to  the  other.  With- 
out superior  information  by  revelation  from 
God,  there  is  no  other  way  of  determining  what 
men  are,  or  what  they  are  not  expected  to  per- 
form. 

It  would  be  easy  to  lose  ourselves  in  meta- 
physical speculations  concerning  the  nature, 
the  operations,  and  the  duration  of  the  soul; 
and  it  would  be  as  easy  to  lose  ourselves,  in 
attempting  precisely  to  determine,  among  an 
infinite  number  of  feelings,  ideas,  perceptions, 

*  Alluding  to  the  4th  vol.  of  theLond.  Ed.  or, 
under  the  present  arrangement,  from  the  53d 
sermon  to  the  69th,  inclusive. 


aversions,  sensations,  and  passions,  where  the 
last  power  of  body  ends,  and  v/here  the  first 
operation  of  spirit  begins.  Perhaps  we  are  to 
expect  only  a  general  knowledge  of  such  sub- 
jects. Tliat  the  happiness  of  both  depends 
on  a  certain  harmony  between  thought  and 
action  is  beyond  a  doubt;  and  that  in  a 
life  made  up  of  a  course  of  thinking  and 
acting,  thinking  ought  to  precede  action 
is  equally  clear.  To  act  is  to  do  some- 
thing; and  every  intelligent  creature  ought 
to  do  whatever  he  does  for  a  reason.  In  the 
nature  of  man,  then,  avoiding  all  perplex- 
ing refinements,  and  confining  our  Ticws  to 
plain  and  useful  observation,  there  are  three 
things  considerable :  happiness,  the  end  of 
men's  actions  ;  notions,  the  means  of  obtaining 
the  end  ;  and  reason,  which  discovers,  selects, 
and  enforces  rules  of  uniting  the  means  with 
the  end. 

2.  Obligatiojv.  We  divide  this  article  in- 
to two  parts,  obligation,  and  sense  o/" obligation. 

We  begin  with  the  first.  By  exercising  our 
reason  to  find  out  proper  means  ofobtainino- 
happiness,  we  collect  a  set  of  ideas  concerning 
the  duties  of  life,  and  putting  these  together, 
we  call  the  collection  morality.  As  this  col- 
lection consists  of  a  great  variety  of  duties,  or 
actions  proper  to  obtain  happiness,  we  find  it 
convenient  to  divide  them  into  several  classes  ; 
and  as  each  class  contributes  its  share  toM'ards 
the  production  of  the  general  end,  happiness, 
we  consider  the  whole  in  the  light  of  obliga- 
tion ;  for  every  creature  is  obliged  to  seek  its 
own  happiness,  and  it  is  natural  to  man  to  do 
so. 

The  condition  of  man  in  regard  to  the  Su- 
preme Being,  his  creator,  is  that  of  absolute 
dependence ;  and  hence  comes  the  first  distri- 
bution of  the  duties  of  life  into  a  class  called 
natural  theology  :  theology,  because  God  is  the 
object  of  our  contemplation;  and rich«-a/ the- 
ology, because  the  duties  to  be  done  in  regard 
to  God  are  such,  and  such  only  as  are  discove- 
rable by  our  observing  and  exercising  our  rea- 
son on  the  works  of  nature.  By  considering 
ourselves,  we  find  a  second  class  of  ideas, 
which  make  up  what  is  called  moral  philoso- 
phy,  or  more  properly  moral  theology  :  and  in 
this  we  place  the  rules  by  which  man  conducts 
himself  to  become  virtuous,  in  order  to  be- 
come liappy.  Extending  our  views  a  little 
further,  and  takhigin  proper  notions  of  the  va- 
rious situations  in  life,  to  which  men  are  sub- 
ject, and  the  various  connexions  which  we  ne- 
cessarily have  in  the  world,  we  perceive  a  set 
of  general  principles  just  and  useful,  and  all 
necessary  to  the  happiness  of  these  situations 
and  relations  ;  and  hence  comes  a  third  branch 
of  morality,  called  g-Mj^rc^  policy,  or  common 
prudence.  The  next  exertion  of  thinking  and 
reasoning  regards  nations,  and  to  this  belongs 
a  large  class  of  ideas,  all  tending  to  public 
prosperity  and  felicity;  national  policy  is, 
therefore,  a  fourth  branch  of  morality,  and  it 
includes  all  the  actions  necessary  to  govern  a 
state,  so  as  to  produce  civil  order  and  social 
happiness.  Tothese,by  extendingour  thoughts 
yet  further,  we  proceed  to  add  the  law  of  na- 
ture, and  the  laiv  of  nations  ;  both  which  go  to 


xlii 

make  up  the  general  doctrine  of  manners, 
which  we  call  morality. 

If  man  aim  at  happiness,  if  he  consult  reason 
by  what  means  to  acquire  it,  if  he  be  natural- 
ly impelled  to  perform  such  actions  as  are  most 
likely  to  obtain  that  end,  he  will  perceive  that 
the  reason  of  each  duty  is  the  obligation  of  it. 
As  far,  then,  as  man  is  governed  by  reasoM,  so 
far  doth  he  approve  of  the  bond  or  obligation 
of  performing  the  duties  of  life. 

Let  us  attend  to  sense  of  obligation.  Should 
it  appear  on  examination,  and  that  it  will  ap- 
pear on  the  slightest  examination  is  too  evi- 
dent, that  the  senses  of  the  body  irritate  the 
passions  of  the  heart,  and  that  both  conspiring 
together  against  the  dominion  of  reason,  be- 
come so  powerful  as  to  take  the  lead,  reason 
will  be  perverted,  the  nature  and  fitness  of 
things  disordered,  improprieties  and  calamities 
introduced,  and,  consequently,  the  great  end, 
happiness,  annihilated.  In  this  case,  the  na- 
ture of  things  would  remain  what  it  was,  ob- 
ligation to  duties  would  continue  just  the 
same,  and  there  would  be  no  change,  except 
in  ihe  order  of  actions,  and  in  the  loss  of  that 
end,  happiness,  which  order  would  have  pro- 
duced. 

This  speculation,  if  we  advert  to  the  real 
state  of  things,  will  become  fact  fully  establish- 
ed in  our  judgment.  True,  the  first  branch  of 
morality  is  natural  theology  ;  but  have  man- 
kind in  general,  in  all  ages  and  countries, 
sought  rational  happiness  in  woi-shipping  the 
one  Great  Supreme?  Whence,  then,  is  idol- 
atry, and  whence  that  neglect  of  the  leather  of 
Universal  nature,  or  what  is  worse,  that  direct 
opposition  to  him  ?  Morality,  we  grant,  hath 
always  been,  as  it  yet  continues  to  be,  beau- 
tifully depicted  in  academical  theses ;  pro- 
fessors of  each  branch  of  literature  have  suc- 
cessively contributed  to  colour  and  adorn  the 
subject;  and  yet,  in  real  life,  neither  the  law 
of  nature  nor  that  of  nations,  nor  that  of  pri- 
vate virtue,  or  public  policy,  hath  been  gener- 
ally obeyed  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  by  crimes 
ol  all  descriptions,  "  the  whole  earth  hath  been 
Jilled  with  violence ;"  Gen.  vi.  11.  l.S.  Alas! 
what  is  the  life  of  each  individual  but  a  suc- 
cession of  mistakes  and  sins.''  What  the  histo- 
ries of  families,  nations,  and  great  monarchies, 
but  narrations  of  injustice  and  wo.'  Morali- 
ty, lovely  goddess,  was  a  painting  of  exquisite 
art  placed  in  proper  light  in  a  public  gallery 
for  the  inspection  and  entertainment  of  connois- 
seurs ;  but  she  was  cold,  and  her  admirers  un- 
animated  :  the  objects  tliat  fired  their  passions 
had  not  her  beauty,  but  they  were  alive.  In 
one  word,  obligalion  to  virtue  is  eternal  and 
immutable  ;  but  sense  of  obligation  is  lost  by 
en. 

3.  Motive.  We  will  not  enter  here  on  that 
difficult  question,  the  origin  of  evil.  We  will 
not  attempt  to  wade  across  that  boundless 
ocean  of  difficulties,  so  full  of  shipwrecks.  Evil 
is  in  the  world,  and  the  permission  of  it  is  cer- 
tainly consistent  with  the  attributes  of  God. 
Our  inability  to  account  for  it  is  another  thing, 
and  the  fact  is  not  alTccted  by  it.  Experiment 
hath  convinced  uj,  that  revelation,  along 
with  a  thousand  other  proofs   of  its  divinity. 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


brings  the  irrefragable  evidence  of  motive  to 
obedience;  a  heavenly  present,  and  every  way 
suited  to  the  condition  of  man  ! 

It  Would  be  endless  to  enumerate  the  mo- 
tives to  obedience,  which  deck  the  scriptures 
as  the  stars  adorn  the  sky  :  each  hath  been  an 
object  of  considerable  magnitude  to  persons  in 
some  ages  and  situations  :  but  there  is  one  of 
infinite  magnificence,  which  eclipses  all  the 
rest,  called  the  sun  of  righteousness,  I  mean  Je- 
sus Christ.  In  him  the  meejcness  of  Moses, 
and  the  patience  of  Job,  the  rectitude  of  the 
ten  commandments,  and  the  generosity  of  the 
gospel,  are  all  united  ;  and  him  we  will  now 
consider  a  moment  in  the  light  of  motive  to  obe- 
dience. 

By  considering  the  prophecies  which  preced- 
ed his  advent,  and  by  comparing  his  advent 
with  those  prophecies,  we  are  impelled  to  al- 
low the  divmity  of  his  mission.  This  is  one 
motive,  or  one  class  of  motives,  to  moral  obe- 
dience. By  observing  the  miracles  which  he 
wrought,  we  are  obliged  to  exclaim  with 
Nicodemus,  '  No  man  can  do  what  thou  doest, 
except  God  be  with  him.'  This  is  a  second 
class  of  motives.  By  attending  to  his  doc- 
trines we  obtain  a  third  set  of  powerful  and  ir- 
resistible motives  to  obedience.  His  example 
affords  a  fourth,  for  his  life  is  made  up  of  a  set 
of  actions,  all  manifestly  just  and  proper,  each 
by  its  beauty  commending  itself  to  every  seri- 
ous spectator. 

This  moral  excellence,  this  conformity  to 
Jesus  Christ,  is  the  only  authentic  evidence  of 
the  truth  of  our  faith,  as  the  apostle  Paul  teach- 
es us  with  the  utmost  clearness,  in  the  thir- 
teenth chapter  of  the  first  Epistle  to  the  Co- 
rinthians. Faith  and  practice,  in  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  are  inseparably  connected ;  for 
as  there  can  be  no  true  morality  without  faith 
in  the  doctrines  of  Christ,  so  there  can  be  no 
true  faith  without  Christian  morality  :  and  it 
is  for  this  reason  chiefly,  that  we  should  be  dil- 
igent to  distinguish  the  pure  doctrines  of  reve- 
lation from  human  explications,  because  a  be- 
lief of  the  former,  produces  a  holy  conformity 
to  the  example  of  Christ;  while  an  improper 
attachment  to  the  latter,  leaves  us  where  zeal 
for  the  traditions  of  the  fathers  left  the  Jews. 
We  have  treated  of  this  at  large  in  the  pre- 
face to  the  third  volume,  and  it  is  needless  to 
enlarge  here.  Grace  be  with  all  them  that 
love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  sincerity.  Amen. 

It  was  not  my  intention,  when  I  translated 
the  first  four  volumes  of  Mr.  Saurin's  sermons, 
to  add  any  more :'"  but,  willing  to  contribute 
my  mite  towards  the  pleasure  and  edification 
of  such  as  having  read  the  four  desired  a  fifth, 
I  took  an  opportunity,  and  added  this  filth 
volume  to  a  second  edition  of  the  four  first. 
There  is  no  alteration  worth  mentioning  in  the 
four,  except  that  the  editor  thinking  the  fourth 
too  thin,  I  have  given  him  a  dissertation  on  the 

*  This  preface  was  originally  prefixed  to 
the  fifth  volume  of  these  sermons  ;  but  as  that 
is  now  incorporated  with  the  fourth,  it  is  in- 
serted in  this  place. — Kote  of  the  last  Lond. 
Ed. 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


xliii 


supposed  madness  of  David  at  the  court  of 
Achish,  translated  from  the  French  of  Mr. 
Dumont,  which  he  has  added  to  increase  the 
size  of  that  volume,  following,  however,  his 
own  ideas  in  this,  and  not  mine. 

Saurin's  sermons,  in  tlie  original,  are  twelve 
octavo  volumes,  elven  of  which  are  miscella- 
neous, and  one  contains  a  regular  train  of 
sermons  for  Lent,  and  is  the  only  set  of  ser- 
mons among  the  whole.  The  four  English 
volumes  are  composed  of  a  selection  of  ser- 
mons from  the  whole  with  a  view  to  a  kind  of 
order,  the  first  being  intended  to  convey  pro- 
per ideas  of  the  true  character  of  God,  the 
second  to  establish  revelation,  and  so  on :  but 
this  volume  is  miscellaneous,  and  contains 
fourteen  sermons  on  various  subjects.  For  my 
part,  almost  all  the  sermons  of  our  author  are 
of  equal  value  in  my  eye,  and  each  seems  to 
me  to  have  a  beauty  peculiar  to  itself,  and 
superior  in  its  kind ;  but  when  I  speak  thus,  I 
wish  to  be  understood. 

It  is  not  to  be  imagined,  that  a  translator  adopts 
all  the  sentiments  of  his  author.  To  approve 
of  a  man's  religious  views  in  general  is  a  rea- 
son sufficient  to  engage  a  person  to  translate, 
and  it  would  be  needless,  if  not  arrogant,  to 
enter  a  protest  in  a  note  against  every  word 
in  which  the  author  differed  from  the  transla- 
tor. In  general,  I  think,  Saurin  is  one  of  the 
first  of  modern  preachers :  and  his  sermons, 
the  whole  construction  of  them,  worth  the  at- 
tention of  any  teacher  of  Christianity,  who 
■wishes  to  excel  in  his  way  :  but  there  are 
many  articles  taken  separately  in  which  my 
ideas  differ  entirely  from  those  of  Mr.  Saurin, 
both  in  doctrine,  rites,  discipline,  and  other 
circumstances. 

For  example  ;  our  author  speaks  a  language 
concerning  the  rites  of  Christianity,  which  I 
do  not  profess  to  understand.  All  he  says  of 
infant  baptism  appears  to  me  erroneous,  for  I 
think  infant  baptism  an  innovation.  When  he 
speaks  of  the  Lord's  Supper  and  talks  of  a  holy 
ta.hle,consecratio7i,  august  symhoh,  and  sublime 
viysteries  of  the  sacrament,  I  confess,  my  appro- 
bation pauses,  and  I  feel  the  exercise  of  my 
understanding  suspended,  or  rather  diverted 
from  the  preacher  to  what  I  suspect  the  sour- 
ces of  his  mistakes.  The  Lord's  Supper  is  a 
commemoration  of  the  most  important  of  all 
events  to  us,  the  death  of  Christ;  but  I  know 
of  no  mystery  in  it.  and  the  primitive  church 
knew  of  none  ;  mystery  and  transubstantiation 
rose  together,  and  together  should  have  expir- 
ed. August  symbols  may  seem  bombast  to 
us,  but  such  epithets  ought  to  pass  with  impu- 
nity among  the  gay  and  ever  exuberant  sons  of 
France. 

Again,  in  regard  to  church  discipline,  our 
author  sometimes  addresses  civil  magistrates 
to  suppress  scandalous  books  of  divinity,  and 
exhorts  them  to  protect  the  church,  and  to 
furnish  it  with  sound  and  able  pastors  ;  but, 
when  I  translate  such  passages,  I  lecollect 
Mr.  Saurin  was  a  presbylerian,  a  friend  to 
establishments,  with  toleration  however,  and 
in  his  system  of  church  discipline,  the  civil 
magistrate  is  to  take  order  na  some  divines 
have  sublimely  expressed  it.       My  ideas  of 


the  absolute  freedom  of  the  press,  and  the  in- 
dependent right  of  every  Christian  society  to 
elect  its  own  officers,  and  to  judge  for  itself 
in  every  possible  case  of  religion,  oblige  me 
in  this  subject  also  to  differ  from  our  author. 

Further,    Mr.  Saurin,    in  his    addresses  to 
ministers,  speaks  of  them  in  a  style  much  too 
high   for  my  notions,     I   think  all  Christians 
are  brethren,  and  that  any  man,  who  under- 
stands the    Christian    religion    himself,    may 
teach  it  to  one  other  man,  or  to  two  other  men, 
or  to  two  hundred,  or  to  two  thousand,  if  they 
think  proper  to   invite  him  to  do   so;  and  I 
suppose  what  they  call  ordination  not  neces- 
sary  to   the    exercise  of  his  abilities :  much 
less  do  I  think  that  there  is  a  secret  something, 
call  it  Holy   Ghost,  or  what  else  you  please, 
that  passes  from   the    hand  of  a  clerical   or- 
dainer,  to  the  whole  essence  of  the  ordained, 
conveying  validity,  power,  indelible  character, 
and  so  to  speak,  creation  to  his  ministry.     Mr. 
Saurin's  colleagues  are   Levites   holy  to   the 
Lord,  ambassadors  of  the  King  of  kings,  ad- 
ministrators  of  the  new  covenant,  who  have 
written    on    their    foreheads   holiness  to    the 
Lord,  and  on  their  breasts  the  names  of  the 
children  of  Israel!  In   the  writings  of  Moses 
all  this  is  history :  in  the  sermons  of  Mr.  Sau- 
rin all  this  is  oratory :  in  my  creed  all  this  is 
nonentity- 
It  signifies  so  little  to  the  v/orld  what  such 
an  obscure  man  as  I  believe  and  approve,  that 
I  never  thought  to  remark  any  of  these  arti- 
cles in  translating  and  prefacing  the  four  first 
volumes  :  but  lest  I  should  seem,  while   I  am 
propagating   truth,   to   countenance    error,    I 
thought  it  necessary    to   make  this   remark. 
Indeed,  I   have   always   flattered    myself   for 
differing  from  Saurin ;  for  I  took  it  for  proba- 
ble evidence  that   I   had  the   virtue  to  think 
for  myself,  even  in  the  presence  of  the  man  in 
the  world  the  most  likely  to  seduce  me.     Had 
I  a  human  oracle  in  religion,  perhaps  Saurin 
would  be  the  man:  but  07ie  is  our  master,  even 
Christ. 

Notwithstanding  these  objections,  I  honour 
this  man  for  his  great  abilities  1  much  more 
for  the  holy  use  he  made  of  them  in  teaching 
the  Christian  religion  ;  and  also  for  the  seal, 
which  it  pleased  God  to  set  to  his  ministry; 
for  he  was,  in  the  account  of  a  great  number 
of  his  brethren,  a  chosen  vessel  unto  the  Lord, 
filled  with  an  excellent  treasure  of  the  light  of 
the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  his  ministry  was  attend- 
ed with  abundant  success.  As  I  have  been 
speaking  of  what  I  judge  his  defects,  it  is  but 
fair  to  add  a  few  words  of  what  I  account  his 
excellencies. 

My  exact  notions  of  the  Christian  ministry 
are  stated  in  the  thirteenth  sermon  of  this 
volume,  entitled  the  different  methods  of  preach- 
ers. Mr.  Saurin,  after  the  apostle  Paul,  di- 
vides Christian  ministers  into  three  classes. 
The  first  lay  another  foundation  different  from 
that  which'is  laid.  The  second  build  on  the 
right  foundation,  icood,  hay  and  stubble.  The 
third  build  on  the  same  foundation,  ••o/rf,  silver, 
and  precious  stones.  I  consider  Mr.  Saurin 
as  one  of  the  last  class,  and  I  think  it  would 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


xliv 


be  very  easy  to  exemplify  from  his  own  dis- 
courses the  five  excellencies,  mentioned  by 
him  as  descriptive  of  the  men. 

First,  tliere  is  in  our  autlior  a  wise  choice 
of  subjects,  and  no  such  thing;  as  a  sermon  on 
a  question  of  mere  curiosity.  There  are  in 
the  twelve  volumes  one  liundred  and  forty- 
four  sermons  :  but  not  one  on  a  subject  unim- 
portant. I  shall  always  esteem  it  a  proof  of 
a  sound  prudent  understanding  in  a  teacher  of 
reli2;ion,  to  make  a  proper  choice  of  doctrine, 
text,  argfuments,  and  even  images  and  style, 
adapted  to  the  edification  of  his  hearers. 
Where  a  man  has  lying  before  him  a  hundred 
subjects,  ninety  of  which  are  indisputable, 
and  the  remaining  ten  extremely  controverted 
and  rery  obscure,  what  but  a  wayward 
genius  can  induce  him  nine  times  out  of  ten  to 
choose  the  doubtful  as  the  subjects  of  his  min- 
istry ^ 

Saurin  excels,  too,  in  the  moral  turn  of  his 
discourses.  They  are  all  practical,  and,  set 
out  from  what  point  he  will,  you  may  be  sure 
he  will  make  his  way  to  the  heart  in  order  to 
regulate  the  actions  of  life.  Sometimes  he  at- 
tacks the  body  of  sin,  as  in  his  sermon  on 
the  passiniis,  and  at  other  times  he  attacks  a 
single  part  of  this  body,  as  in  his  sermon  on 
the  despair  of  Judas  ;  one  while  he  inculcates 
a  particular  virtue,  as  in  the  discourse  on  the 
repentance  of  the  unchaste  woman,  another 
time  piety,  benevolence,  practical  religion  in 
general :  but  in  all  he  endeavours  to  diminish 
the  dominion  of  sin,  and  to  extend  the  empire 
of  virtue. 

Again,  another  character  of  his  discourses 
is  what  he  calls  solidity,  and  which  he  distin- 
guishes from  the  fallacious  glare  of  mere  wit 
and  ingenuity.  Not  that  his  sermons  are  void 
of  invention  and  acuteness  :  but  it  is  easy  to 
see  his  design  is  not  to  display  his  own  genius, 
but  to  elucidate  his  subject;  and  when  inven- 
tion is  subservient  to  argument,  and  holds  light 
to  a  subject,  it  appears  in  character,  beautiful 
because  in  the  service  and  livery  of  truth. 
Mere  essays  of  genius  are  for  schools  and  un- 
der-graduates  :  they  ought  never  to  appear  in 
the  Christian  pulpit ;  for  sensible  people  do 
not  attend  sermons  to  have  mens  persons  in 
admiration,  but  to  receive  such  instruction 
and  animation  as  may  serve  their  religious  im- 
provement. 

Further,  our  author,  to  use  again  his  own 
language,  excelled  in  'weighing  in  just  bal- 
ances truth  against  error,  probability  against 
proof,  conjecture  against  demonstration,  and 
despised  the  miserable  sophisms  of  those  who 
defended  truth  with  the  arms  of  error.'  We 
have  a  fine  example  of  this  in  the  eleventh 
sermon,  on  the  deep  things  of  God,  and  there 
^delity  and  modesty  are  blended  in  a  manner 
extremely  pleasing.  The  doctrine  of  the  di- 
vine decrees  hath  been  very  much  agitated, 
and  into  two  extremes,  eacli  under  some  plaus- 
ible pretence,  divines  have  gone.  Some  have 
not  only  made  up  their  own  minds  on  tlic 
subject,  in  which  they  were  right,  but  they 
have  gone  so  lUr  as  to  exact  a  conformity  of 
opinion  from  others,  and  have  made  such  con- 
formity the  price  of  their  friendship,  and,  so  to 


speak,  a  ticket  for  admittance  to  the  Lord's 
Supper,  and  church  communion  :  in  this  they 
were  wrong.  Others  struck  with  the  glaring 
absurdity  of  the  former,  have  gone  to  the  op- 
posite extreme,  and  thought  it  needless  to 
form  any  sentiments  at  all  on  this,  and  no 
other  subjects  connected  with  it.  Our  author 
sets  a  fine  example  of  a  wise  moderation. 
On  the  one  hand,  with  a  wisdom,  that  does 
him  honour,  he  examines  the  subject,  and 
with  the  fidelity  of  an  upright  soul  openly  de- 
clares in  the  face  of  the  sun  that  he  hath  sen- 
timents of  his  own,  which  are  those  of  his  own 
community,  and  he  thinks  those  of  the  inspir- 
ed writers.  On  the  other  hand,  far  from 
erecting  himself,  or  even  his  synod,  into  a 
standard  of  orthodoxy,  a  tribunal  to  decide  on 
the  rights  and  privileges  of  other  Christians, 
he  opens  his  benevolent  arms  to  admit  them 
to  communion,  and,  with  a  graceful  modesty, 
to  use  his  own  language,  puts  his  hand  on  hit 
mouth,  in  regard  to  many  difficulties  that  be- 
long to  his  own  system.  I  think  this  sermon 
may  serve  for  a  model  of  treating  this  sub- 
ject, and  many  others  of  the  Christian  religion. 
There  is  a  certain  point,  to  which  conviction 
must  go,  because  evidence  goes  before  it  to 
lead  the  way,  and  up  to  this  point  we  believe 
because  we  understand :  but  beyond  this  we 
hare  no  faith,  because  we  have  no  understand- 
iiig,  and  can  have  no  conviction,  because  we 
have  no  evidence.  This  point  differs  in  dif- 
ferent men  according  to  the  different  strength 
of  their  mental  powers,  and  as  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  a  standard  soul,  by  which  all  other 
souls  ought  to  be  estimated,  so  there  can  be 
no  such  thing  as  a  human  test  in  a  Christian 
church,  by  which  the  opinions  of  other  Chris- 
tians ought  to  be  valued.  There  is  one  insu- 
perable difficulty,  which  can  never  be  sur- 
mounted, in  setting  up  human  tests,  that  is, 
whose  opinion  shall  the  test  be,  yours  or  mine  ? 
and  the  only  consistent  church  in  the  world  on 
this  article  is  the  church  of  Rome. 

Were  men  as  much  inclined  to  unite,  and 
to  use  gentle  healing  measures,  as  they  are  to 
divide,  and  to  gratify  an  arbitrary"censorioU3 
spirit,  they  would  neither  be  so  ridiculous  as 
to  pretend  to  have  no  fixed  sentiments  of  their 
own  in  religion,  nor  so  unjust  as  to  make  their 
own  opinions  a  standard  for  all  other  men. 
There  are  in  religion  some  great,  principal,  in- 
fallible truths,  and  there  are  various  fallible 
inferences  derived  by  different  Christians :  in 
the  first  all  agree,  in  the  last  all  should  agree 
to  differ.  I  think  this,  I  repeat  it  again,  a 
chief  excellence  in  our  author.  He  has  sen- 
timents of  his  own,  but  he  holds  them  in  a 
liberal  generous  manner,  no  way  injurious  to 
the  rights  of  other  men. 

In  the  sermon  above  mentioned,  Saurin 
makes  a  fifth  class  of  mean  superficial  build- 
ers without  elevation  and  penetration,  and 
against  these  he  sets  such  as  soar  aloft  in  the 
exercise  of  the  ministry,  and  in  this  also  he 
himself  excels.  His  thoughts  on  some  sub- 
jects are  lofty,  and  Iiis  language  sublime.  He 
is  not  afraid  of  considering  religion  in  union 
with  our  feelings,  nor  does  he  hesitate  to  ad- 
dress hope  and  fear,  and  other  passions  of  our 


EEV.  n.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE, 


xlv 


minds  with  those  great  truths  of  the  gospel, 
which  are  intended  to  allure,  awake,  arouse, 
and  excite  us  to  action.  Terribly  sometimes 
does  he  treat  of  future  punishment,  and  gen- 
erally under  the  awful  image  made  use  of  in 
holy  Scriptures:  delightfully  at  other  times 
does  he  speak  of  eternal  happiness  in  the  en- 
joyment of  God.  On  both  these  subjects,  on 
the  perfections  of  God,  and  on  the  exercise  of 
piety,  particularly  in  the  closet,  he  stretches 
and  soars,  not  out  of  sight,  beyond  truth  and 
the  reason  of  things,  but  so  high  only  as  to 
elevate  and  animate  his  hearers.  By  the  most 
exact  rules  of  a  wise  and  well-directed  elo- 
quence most  of  his  sermons  are  composed  :  at 
first  cool  and  gentle  like  a  morning  in  May,  as 
they  proceed  glowing  with  a  pleasant  warmth, 
and  toward  the  close  not  so  much  inflaming 
us  settling  and  incorporating  the  fire  of  the 
subject  with  the  spirits  of  his  hearers,  so  as 
to  produce  the  brisk  circulation  of  every  vir- 
tue of  which  the  heart  of  man  is  capable,  and 
nil  which  spend  their  force  in  the  performance 
of  the  duties  of  life. 

Our  author  always  treats  his  hearers  like 
rational  creatures,  and  excels  in  laying  a 
ground  of  argument  to  convince  the  judgment 
before  he  offers  to  affect  the  passions  ;  but 
what  I  admire  most  of  all  in  him  is  his  con- 
scientious attachment  to  the  connected  sense  of 
Scripture.  The  inspired  book  is  that  precise- 
ly, which  ought  to  be  explained  in  a  Christian 
auditory,  and  above  all,  that  part  of  it  the 
New  Testament,  and  the  connected  sense  is 
that,  which  only  deserves  to  be  called  the  true 
mid  real  sense  of  Scripture.  By  detached 
passages,  as  Saurin  observes,  any  thing  may 
be  proved  from  Scripture,  even  that  there  is 
no  God  ;  and  I  question  whether  any  one  of 
our  wretched  customs  has  so  much  contribut- 
ed to  produce  and  cherish  error  as  that  of  tak- 
ing detached  passages  of  Scripture  for  the 
whole  doctrine  of  Scripture  on  any  particular 
subject.  An  adept  in  this  art  will  cull  one 
verse  from  Obadiah,  another  from  Jude,  a 
third  from  Leviticus,  and  a  fourth  from  Solo- 
mon's Song,  and  compile  a  fundamental  doc- 
trine to  be  received  as  the  mind  of  God  by 
all  good  Christians  under  pain  of  his  displea- 
sure. Were  this  a  common  man,  and  not  a 
sublime  genius  under  the  influence  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  so  beyond  advice,  I  would  pre- 
sume to  counsel  him  always  to  cap  his  meilley 
of  a  sermon  with  a  text  from  the  Lamenta- 
tions of  Jeremiah. 

Do  we  then  propose  Saurin  as  a  model  for 
all  preachers?  By  no  means.  But  as  we 
suppose  there  arc  diversities  of  gilts  for  the 
edification  of  the  church,  each  excellent  in 
its  kind,  so  we  su[)pose  Saurin  a  model  in  his 
own  class.  There  is  in  the  writings  of  the 
apostle  Paul  one  of  the  finest  allegories  in  the 
World  to  illustrate  this  subject.  The  Chris- 
tian cliurch  is  considered  under  the  image  of 
a  human  bodi/,  and  of  this  body  God  is  consid- 
ered as  the  Spirit  or  soul :  and  the  most  re- 
fined morality  is  drawn  from  tiic  fact.  '  The 
eye  cannot  say  unto  the  hand  I  have  no  need 
of  thee  :  nor  again,  the  head  to  the  feet,  1  have 
no  need  of  you.    If  one  member  be  honoured, 


all  the  members  rejoice  with  it ;'  for  it  is  the 

same  God  which  worketh  all  diversities  of 
gifts  in  all  good  men.  It  is  highly  probable, 
that  what  is  affirmed  of  individuals  may  bo 
true  of  collective  bodies  of  men.j  One 
church  may  excel  in  literature,  another  in  pu- 
rity of  doctrine,  a  third  in  simplicity  of  wor- 
ship, a  fourth  in  administration  of  ordinances, 
a  fifth  in  sweetness  of  temper  and  disposition, 
and  so  on.  It  is  not  for  us  to  investigate  this 
subject  now  ;  let  it  sutfice  to  observe  that  the 
French  reformed  church  has  excelled  in  a 
clear,  convincing  and  animating  way  of  com- 
posing and  delivering  Christian  sermons. 
Never  so  warm  as  to  forget  reasoning,  never 
so  accurate  as  to  omit  energy,  not  always  pla- 
cid, not  always  rapid,  never  so  moral  as  to 
be  dry  and  insipid,  never  so  evangelical  and 
savoury  as  to  spii-itualize  the  Scriptures  till 
the  fat  of  a  kidnci/  is  as  good  a  body  of  divin- 
ity as  the  whole  sermon  of  Jesus  Christ  on 
the  mount.  Diflerent  as  my  ideas  of  some 
subjects  are  from  those  of  Mr.  Saurin,  yet  I 
wish  we  had  a  SaurinUn  every  parish  :  yea,  so 
entirely  would  I  go  into  the  doctrine  of  the 
apostle's  allegory  just  now  mentioned,  that 
1  would  encourage  even  a  builder  of  '  wood, 
hay  and  stubble,'  suppose  he  erected  his  ah- 
surdities  071  the  foundation  laid  in  Scripture, 
to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil  in  any  place 
where  those  words  are  practised.  In  a  village 
made  up  of  a  stupid  thing  called  a  squire,  a 
mercenary  priest,  a  set  of  intoxicated  farmei-s, 
and  a  train  of  idle,  profligate,  and  miserable 
poor,  and  where  the  barbarous  rhymes  in 
their  churchyard  inform  us  that  they  are  all 
either  gone  or  going  to  heaven  (and  we 
have  too  many  such  parishes  in  remote  parts 
of  the  kingdom),  would  it  not  be  infinitely 
better  for  society  if  an  honest  enthusiast  could 
convert  these  people  to  piety  and  morality, 
though  it  were  ti fleeted  by  spiritualizing  all 
the  flanks  and  kidneys,  and  bullocks  and  red 
cows,  mentioned  in  Scripture?  Any  thing  of 
religion  is  better  than  debauchery  and  blas- 
phemy. 

Such  a  set  of  converts  would  grow  in  time 
up  to  majority,  and  when  of  asre  would  look 
back  on  their  first  religious  nourishment  as 
men  do  on  the  amusements  of  their  child- 
hood :  and  among  other  rcfurmations  would 
cleanse  public  instruction  from  Jewish  allego- 
ry. Pagan  philosophy,  and  the  gaudy  tinsel 
of  tlie  schools.  From  a  stale  of  gross  igno- 
rance and  vice  up  to  a  state  of  the  highest 
perfection  of  Christian  knowledge  and  virtue, 
lie  infinite  degrees  of  improvement  one  above 
another,  in  a  scale  of  excellence  up  to  '  the 
first-born  of  every  creature,'  the  perfect 
teacher  sent  from  God.  In  this  scale  our 
author,  occupies  a  high  place  in  my  eye, 
and  if  a  reader  choo'^e  to  place  him  a  few  de- 
grees, lower,  I  shiill  not  contend  about  that ; 
for  on  my  principles  if  he  contribute  in  any, 
even  the  least  degree,  to  the  cause  cd  truth 
and  virtue,  he  is  a  (brcigncr  worth  our  ac- 
quaintance, and  the  gallic  in  his  appearance 
will  not  disgust  a  friend  to  the  best  interests 
of  mankind.  I  say  nothing  of  the  translation: 
it  does  not  become  me.     Let  those  who  are 


xlvi 


REV.  R.  ROBINSON'S  PREFACE. 


able,  do  better, 
none. 


Envy  of  this  kind  I  have 


The  following  is  the  prayer  which  Mr.  Saurin 
generally  used  immediately  before  Ser- 
mon. 

O  Lord  !  our  God  and  Father !  thou  seest 
us  prostrate  in  thy  presence  to  render  the 
homage  due  to  thy  Majesty,  to  confess  our 
sins  to  thee,  and  to  implore  thy  favour.  Had 
we  followed  the  first  emotions  of  our  con- 
sciences, we  should  not  have  presumed  to  lift 
our  eyes  to  heaven,  but  should  have  fled  from 
thy  sight.  We  are  creatures  mean  and  infirm, 
a  thousand  times  more  unworthy  of  appear- 
ing before  thee  for  our  depravity,  than  for 
our  natural  meanness.  But,  O  Lord  !  though 
our  sins  and  miseries  depress  us,  yet  thy 
mercy  lifts  us  up.  Thou  art  a  God  merciful 
and  gracious,  slow  to  anger  and  abundant  in 
goodness  :  thou  hast  no  pleasure  in  the  death 
of  a  sinner ;  but  that  he  should  repent  and 
live  ;  and  thou  hast  given  thy  Son  to  the  world, 
that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  have 
everlasting  life.  So  many  benefits,  so  many 
promises  encourage  our  trembling  consciences, 
und  inspire  us  with  the  liberty  we  now  take 
to  approach  the  throne  of  thy  mercy,  and  to 
implore  the  powerful  aid  of  thy  grace.  We 
have  always  need  of  thine  assistance :  but 
now,  O  Lord!  we  feel  a  more  than  usual 
want.  We  are  assembled  in  thy  house  to 
learn  the  doctrines  of  our  salvation,  and  the 
rules  of  our  conduct :  but,  O  God  !  our  duty 
surpasses  our  strength,  we  cannot  succeed 
without  thy  Holy  Spirit.  Grant  a  double 
portion  of  this  to  us  who  preach  thy  word ; 
grant  after  we  have  understood  thine  oracles, 
we  may  be  first  affected  with  the  truths  they 
contain,  before  we  propose  them  to  others, 
and  may  we  announce  them  in  a  manner  suit- 
able to  their  excellence.  But  sufler  us  not 
to  labour  in  vain ;  dispose  our  hearers  to  re- 


ceive thine  orders  with  submission,  and  to 
practise  them  with  punctuality  ;  so  that  all  of 
us,  being  animated  with  one  spirit,  and  aim- 
ing at  one  end,  may  sanctify  our  conduct,  and 
live  agreeable  to  tlie  holiness  of  our  calling. 
We  pray  for  all  these  blessings  in  the  name  of 
thy  well-beloved  Son  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
Our  Father,  Szc. 


The  following  is  the  approbation  of  the  Wal- 
loon Church  at  Durt,  employed  by  the  Synod 
at  Utrecht  to  examine  tlie  Sermons  of  Mr. 
Saurin. 

We  have  found  nothing  in  all  these  ser- 
mons contrary  to  the  doctrine  received  among 
us.  We  have  remarked  every  where  a  man- 
ly eloquence,  a  close  reasoning,  an  imagina- 
tion lively  and  proper  to  establish  the  truths 
of  our  holy  religion,  and  to  explain  substan- 
tially and  elegantly  the  duties  of  morality. 
Accordingly,  we  believe  they  will  effectually 
contribute  to  edify  the  chui-ch,  and  to  render 
more  and  more  respectable  the  memory  of 
this  worthy  servant  of  God,  whose  death 
the  examination  of  his  works  has  given  us  a 
fresh  occasion  to  lament.  We  attest  this 
to  the  venerable  Synod  at  Utrecht.  In  the 
sanie  sentiments  we  send  the  present  attesta- 
tion to  our  most  dear  brother  Mr.  Dumont, 
pastor  and  professor  at  Rotterdam,  whom 
the  late  Mr.  Saurin  appointed  by  his  will  to 
take  the  charge  of  publishing  such  of  his 
works  as  were  fit  for  the  press.  Done  at 
the  Consistory  at  the  Walloon  Church  at 
Dort,  May  20th,  1731,  and  signed  by  order 
of  all,  by 

H.  G.  Ceuton,  Pastor. 
J.  CoMPERAT,   Pastor. 
Adrian  Braets  Jacobz,  Elder. 
John  Backris,  Elder. 
John  Van  Breda,  Deacon. 
Simon  Taay  Van  Campen,  Deacon. 


SERMON  !• 


THE    PERFECTION    OF    CHRISTIAN    KNOWLEDGE. 


Heb.  V.  12—14.    vi.  1—3. 

For  when  for  the  time  ye  ought  to  he  teachers,  ye  have  need  that  one  teach  you 
again,  which  be  the  first  principles  of  the  oracles  of  God,  and  are  become  such 
as  have  need  of  milk,  and  not  of  strong  meat.  For  every  one  that  useth  milk  is 
tmskilful  in  the  word  ojf  righteousness ;  for  he  is  a  babe.  But  strong  meat 
belongeth  to  them  that  are  of  full  age,  even  those  who  by  reason  of  age  have 
their  senses  exercised  to  discern  both  good  and  evil. — Therefore,  leaving  the 
principles  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  let  us  go  on  unto  perfection,  not  lay- 
ing again  tJie  foundation  of  repentance  from  deadivorks,  and  of  faith  towards 
God,  of  the  doctrine  of  baptisms,  and  of  laying  on  of  hands,  and  of  resurrec- 
tion oj  the  dead,  and  of  eternal  judgment.     And  this  will  we  do  if  God  permit. 


I  HAVE  put  two  subjects  together  which  are 
closely  coiiiiectecl,  and  I  intend  to  explain  both 
in  this  discourse.  Tlae  last  part  of  the  text  is 
ai  consequence  of  the  first.  In  the  first,  St. 
Paul  reproves  some  Christians  for  their  little 
knowledge  ;  in  the  last,  he  exhorts  them  to  in- 
crease it :  and  the  connexion  of  both  will  ap- 
pear, if  you  attend  to  the  subject  under  his  con- 
sideration. The  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews, 
which  maybe  considered  as  the  apostle's  prin- 
cipal work,  treats  of  the  most  difficult  points  of 
divinity  and  morality.  In  particular,  this  is 
the  idea  that  must  be  formed  of  Melchisedec's 
priesthood,  as  a  prefiguration  of  Jesus  Christ's. 
This  mysterious  subject  the  apostle  had  begun 
to  discuss,  but  he  had  not  proceeded  far  in  it 
before  he  found  himself  at  a  stand,  by  recollect- 
ing the  character  of  those  to  whom  he  was 
writing.  He  describes  them  in  the  text,  as 
men  who  were  grown  old  in  the  profession  of 
Christianity  indeed,  but  who  knew  nothing 
more  of  it  than  its  first  principles  :  and  he  en- 
deavours to  animate  them  with  the  laudable 
ambition,  of  penetrating  the  noblest  parts  of 
that  excellent  system  of  religion,  which  Jesus 
Christ  had  published,  and  wlrich  his  apostles 
had  explained  in  all  its  beauty,  and  in  all  its 
extent. 

This  general  notion  of  St.  Paul's  design,  in 
the  words  of  my  text,  is  the  best  comment  on 
his  meaning,  and  the  best  explication  that  we 
can  give  of  his  terms. 

By  the  first  principles  of  the  oracles  of  God, 
to  which  the  Hebrews  confined  themselves,  the 
apostle  means  the  rudiments  of  that  science  of 
which  God  is  tlie  object ;  that  is,  Christian 
divinity  and  morality  :  and  these  rudiments 
are  here  also  called  the  principles  of  Christ* 
that  is,  the  first  principles  of  that  doctrine 
which  Jesus  Christ  had  taught.  These  are 
.  compared  to  milk,  which  is  given  to  children 
incapable  of  digesting  stronu;  meat ;  and  they 
are  opposed  to  the  profound  knowledge  of 
those,  who  have  been  habituated  by  long  exer- 
cise to  study  and  meditation,  or,  as  the  apostle 
expresses  it,  '  wlio  by  reason  of  use  have  their 
senses  exercised  to  discern  both  good  and  evil.' 


In  this  class  St.  Paul  places,  first,  repentance 
from  dead  ivoi-ks,  and  faith  towards  God. 
These  were  the  first  truths  which  the  heralds 
of  the  gospel  preached  to  their  hearers  :  to 
them  they  said,  '  Repent,  and  believe  the 
gospel.' 

St.  Paul  places  in  the  same  class,  secondly, 
the  doctrine  of  baptisms,  that  is,  the  confession 
of  faith  that  was  required  of  those  who  had 
resolved  to  profess  Christianity  and  to  be  bap- 
tized. Of  such  persons  a  confession  was  requi- 
red, and  their  answers  to  certain  questions 
were  demanded.  The  formularies  that  have 
been  used  upon  this  occasion,  have  been  ex- 
tremely diversified  at  different  places  and  in 
difi'erent  times,  but  the  most  ancient  are  the 
shortest  and  the  most  determinate.  One  ques- 
tion that  was  put  to  the  catechumen,  was, 
'  Dost  thou  renounce  the  devil  P  to  which  he 
answered,  'I  renounce  him.'  Another  was, 
'  Dost  thou  believe  in  Jesus  Christ  ?'  to  which 
he  replied,  '  I  believe  in  him.'  St.  Cyprian 
calls  these  questions  the  baptismal  interrogato- 
ry; and  the  answers  are  called  by  TertuUian, 
the  ansirer  of  salvation  :  and  we  have  a  pas- 
sage upon  this  article  in  an  author  still  more 
respectable,  I  mean  St.  Peter,  who  says, '  Bap- 
tism doth  also  now  save  us ;  not  the  putting 
away  the  filth  of  the  flesh,  but  the  answer  of  a 
good  conscience  towards  God,'  1  Pet.  iii.  21  ; 
that  is,  the  answer  that  was  given  by  the  cate- 
chumen before  his  baptism. 

Thirdly,  Among  the  rudiments  or  first  prin- 
ciples of  Christianity,  St.  Paul  puts  the  laying 
on  of  hands,  by  which  we  understand  the  gift 
of  miracles,  which  the  apostles  communicated, 
by  imposition  of  hands  to  those  who  embraced 
the  gospel.  We  have  several  instances  of  this 
in  Scripture,  and  a  particular  account  of  it  in 
the  eighth  chapter  of  Acts,  verses  11,  12,  14, 
17.  It  is  there  said,  that  Philip,  having  unde- 
ceived many  of  the  Samaritans,  Avhom  Simon 
the  sorcerer  '  had  of  a  long  time  bewitched, 
baptized  botii  men  and  women,'  and  that  the 
apostles,  Peter  and  John,  '  laid  their  hands  oii 
them,'  and  by  that  ceremony  communicated  to 
them  the  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

The  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  (he  eternal 
judgment,  two  other  articles  which  St.  Paul 


4S 


THE  PERFECTION  OF 


[SEn.  I. 


places  In  the  eamo  class  i  articles  believed  by 
tlie  weakest  Christians,  received  by  the  great- 
est part  of  the  Jews,  and  admitted  by  even 
many  of  the  heatliens.  Now  tlie  apostle  wish- 
es that  the  Hebrews,  kaviyig  these  principles, 
would  aspire  to  be  perfect.  Let  res  go  on  nnto 
perfection,  says  he ;  let  us  proceed  from  the 
catechumen  state  to  a  thorough  acquaintance 
with  that  religion,  which  is  wisdom  among  litem 
that  are  perfect ;  that  is,  a  system  of  doctrine 
which  cannot  be  well  understood  by  any  ex- 
cept by  such  as  the  heathens  called  perfect. 
They  denominated  those  perfect,  who  did  not 
rest  in  a  superficial  knowledge  of  a  science,  but 
who  endeavoured  tlioroughly  to  understand 
the  whole.  This  was  the  design  of  St.  Paul  in 
writing  to  the  Hebrews  ;  aad  this  is  ours  in  ad- 
dressing you. 

We  will  endeavour,  first,  to  give  you  as 
exact  and  adequate  a  notion  as  we  can  of 
Christian  divinity  and  morality,  and  from 
thence  infer,  that  you  can  neither  see  the 
beauty,  nor  reap  the  benefit,  of  either  of  them, 
while  you  confine  yourselves,  as  most  of  you 
do,  to  a  few  loose  principles,  and  continue  un- 
Bcquainted  with  the  whole  system  or  body  of 
religion. 

Secondly,  We  will  inquire,  why  so  many  of 
Us  do  confine  our  attention  to  these  first  truths, 
and  never  proceed  to  the  rest. 

Lastly,  We  will  give  you  some  directions 
how  to  increase  your  knowledge,  and  to  attain 
that  perfection  to  which  St.  Paul  endeavoured 
to  conduct  the  Hebrews.  This  is  the  whole 
that  we  propose  to  treat  of  in  this  discourse. 

I.  It  is  evident  from  the  nature  of  Christian- 
ity, that  you  can  neither  see  its  beauties,  nor 
reap  its  benefits,  while  you  attend  only  to  some 
loose  principles,  and  do  not  consider  the  whole 
Eystem  :  for  tlie  truths  of  religion  form  a  sys- 
tem, a  body  of  coherent  doctrines,  closely  con- 
nected, and  in  perfect  harmony.  Nothing  bet- 
ter distinguishes  the  accurate  judgment  of  an 
orator,  or  a  philosopher,  than  the  connexion  of 
his  orations  or  systems.  Unconnected  systems, 
orations,  in  which  tho  author  is  determined 
only  by  caprice  and  chance,  as  it  were,  to  place 
the  proposition  which  follows  after  that  which 
precedes,  and  that  which  has  precedence  of 
that  which  follows  ;  such  orations  and  systems 
are  less  worthy  of  rational  beings,  than  of 
creatures  destitute  of  intelligence,  whom  nature 
has  formed  capable  of  producing  sounds  indeed, 
but  not  of  forming  ideas.  Orations  and  sys- 
tems should  be  connected  :  each  part  should 
occupy  the  place  wliich  order  and  accuracy, 
not  caprice  and  chance  assign  it.  They  should 
resemble  buildings  constructed  according  to 
the  rules  of  art ;  the  laws  of  whirh  are  never 
arbitrary,  but  fixed  and  inviolable,  founded  on 
the  nature  of  regularity  and  proportion  :  or  to 
use  St.  Paul's  expression,  each  should  be  '  a 
body  fitly  joined  together,  and  compacted  by 
that  which  every  joint  supplicth,'  Eph.  iv.  16. 

Let  us  apply  this  to  the  subject  in  hand. 
Nothing  better  proves  the  divinity  of  religion, 
than  the  connexion,  the  harmony,  the  agree- 
ment of  its  component  parts.  I  am  aware  that 
this  grand  characteristic  of  Christianity  has  oc- 
casioned many  mistakes  among  mankind.  Un- 


der pretence  that  a  religion  proceeding  from 
God  must  harmonize  in  its  component  parts, 
men  have  licentiously  contrived  a  chain  of 
propositions  to  please  themselves.  They  have 
substituted  a  phantom  of  their  own  imagina- 
tion, for  that  body  of  doctrine  which  God  has 
given  us  in  the  Holy  Scriptures. — Hence  so 
much  obstinacy  in  maintaining,  after  so  much 
rashness  and  presumption  in  advancing,  such 
phantoms.  For,  my  brethren,  of  all  obstinate 
people,  none  excel  more  in  their  dreadful 
kind,  than  those  who  are  prejudiced  in  favour 
of  certain  systems.  A  man  who  does  not  think 
himself  capable  of  forming  a  connected  sys- 
tem, can  bear  contradiction,  because,  if  he  be 
obliged  to  give  up  some  of  the  propositions 
which  he  has  advanced,  some  others  which  ho 
embraces  will  not  be  disputed,  and  what  re- 
mains may  indemnify  him  for  what  he  surren- 
ders. But  a  man  prepossessed  with  lui  imagi- 
nary system  of  his  own  has  seldom  so  much 
teachableness.  He  knows,  that  if  one  link  be 
taken  away,  his  chain  falls  to  pieces  ;  and  that 
there  is  no  removing  a  single  stone  from  his 
building  without  destroying  the  whole  edifice: 
he  considers  the  upper  skins  which  covered 
the  tabernacle,  as  typical  as  the  ark  in  the  ho- 
ly place,  or  the  mercy-seat  itself.  The  staff 
with  which  Jacob  passed  over  Euphrates,  and 
of  which  he  said,  '  with  my  staff  I  passed  over 
this  river,'  seems  to  him  as  much  designed  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  to  typify  the  cross  on  which 
Jesus  Christ  redeemed  the  church,  as  tlie  ser- 
pent of  brass  which  was  lifted  up  in  the  desert 
by  the  express  command  of  God  himself. 

But  if  infatuation  with  systems  hath  occa- 
sioned so  many  disorders  in  the  church,  the  op- 
posite disposition,  I  mean,  the  obstinate  rejec- 
tion of  all,  or  the  careless  composition  of  some, 
hath  been  equally  hurtful :  for  it  is  no  less 
dangerous,  in  a  system  of  religion,  to  omit  what 
really  belongs  to  it,  than  to  incorporate  any 
thing  foreign  from  it. 

Let  us  be  more  explicit.  There  are  two 
sorts  of  truths  in  religion  ;  truths  of  specula- 
tion, and  truths  of  practice.  Each  truth  is 
connected  not  only  with  other  truths  in  its 
own  class,  but  truths  of  the  first  class  are  con- 
nected with  those  of  the  second,  and  of  these 
parts  thus  united  is  composed  that  admirable 
body  of  doctrine  which  forms  the  system  of  re- 
ligion. 

There  are  in  religion  some  truths  of  specu- 
lation, there  is  a  chain  of  doctrines.  God  is 
holy  :  this  is  the  first  truth.  A  holy  Gotl  can 
have  no  intimate  communion  with  unholy 
creatures  :  this  is  a  second  truth  which  fol- 
lows from  the  first.  God,  who  can  have  no 
communion  with  unholy  creatures,  can  have 
no  communion  witli  men,  who  are  unholy 
creatures  :  this  is  a  tliird  truth  which  follows 
from  the  second.  Men,  who  are  unholy  crea- 
tures, being  incapable  as  such  of  communion 
with  the  happy  God,  must  on  that  very  ac- 
count be  entirely  miserable :  this  is  a  fourth 
truth  which  follows  fioni  the  third.  Men, 
who  must  be  absolutely  miserable  because 
they  can  have  no  communion  with  the  holy, 
happy  God,  become  objects  of  the  compassion 
of  that  God,  who  is  as  loving  and  merciful  as 


Ser.  I.] 


CHRISTIAN  KNOWLEDGE, 


49 


he  is  happy  and  holy:  this  is  a  fifth  truth 
■which  follows  from  the  fouiih.  This  loving 
and  merciful  God  is  naturally  inclined  to  re- 
lieve a  multitude  of  his  creatures,  who  are 
ready  to  be  plunged  into  the  deepest  miseries  : 
this  is  a  sixth  truth  which  follows  from  the 
fifth. 

Thus  follow  the  thread  of  Jesus  Christ's  the- 
ology, and  you  will  find,  as  I  said,  each  part 
that  composes  it  depending  on  another,  and 
every  one  giving  another  the  hand.  For,  from 
the  loving  and  merciful  inclination  of  God  to 
relieve  a  multitude  of  his  creatures  from  a 
threatening  abyss  of  the  deepest  miseries,  fol- 
lows the  mission  of  Jesus  Christ ;  because  it 
•was  fit  that  the  remedy  chosen  of  God  to  re- 
lieve the  miseries  of  men  should  bear  a  pro- 
portion to  the  causes  which  produced  it.  From 
the  doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ's  mission  follows 
the  necessity  of  the  Spirit  of  God :  because  it 
would  have  been  impossible  for  men  to  have 
discovered  by  their  own  speculations  the  way 
of  salvation,  unless  they  had  been  assisted  by  a 
supernatural  revelation,  according  to  that  say- 
ing, '  Things  which  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear 
heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man,  God  hath  revealed  unto  us  by  his  Spirit,' 
1  Cor.  ii.  9,  10.  From  the  doctrines  of  the 
mission  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  of  the  gift  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  follows  this  most  comfortable 
truth,  that  we  are  the  objects  of  the  love  of 
God,  even  of  love  the  most  vehement  and  sin- 
cere that  can  be  imagined :  for  '  God  com- 
mended his  love  towards  us,  in  that  while  we 
were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us,'  Rom.  v.  8. 
And,  as  we  are  objects  of  that  love  which  God 
hath  commended  to  us  in  his  Son,  it  follows, 
that  no  bounds  can  be  set  to  our  happiness, 
that  there  is  no  treasure  too  rich  in  the  mines 
of  the  blessed  God,  no  duration  too  long  in  eter- 
nity, no  communion  with  the  Creator  too 
elose,  too  intimate,  too  tender,  which  we  have 
not  a  right  to  expect ;  according  to  that  com- 
fortable, that  extatie  maxim  of  St.  Paul, — 
God,  who  '  sjiared  not  his  own  Son,  but  deli- 
vered him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not  with 
him  also  freely  give  us  all  things?'  Rom.  viii. 
32. 

This  is  a  chain  of  some  truths  of  the  gospel. 
We  do  not  say  that  it  might  not  be  lengthen- 
ed ;  we  do  not  pretend  to  have  given  a  com- 
plete system  of  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel ;  we 
only  say  that  the  doctrines  proposed  are  close- 
ly connected,  and  that  one  produces  another  in 
a  system  of  speculative  gospel  truths. 

In  like  manner,  there  is  a  connexion  be- 
tween practical  truths.  The  class  of  practical 
truths  is  connected  with  the  class  of  specula- 
tive truths,  and  each  practical  truth  is  con- 
nected with  another  practical  truth. 

The  class  of  practical  truths  is  connected 
with  the  class  of  speculative  truths.  As  soon 
as  ever  we  are  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the 
doctrines  just  now  mentioned,  we  shall  be 
thereby  convinced  that  we  are  under  an  indis- 
pensable necessity  to  devote  ourselves  to  holi- 
ness. People,  who  draw  consequences  from 
our  doctrines  injurious  to  morality,  fall  into 
the  most  gross  and  palpable  of  all  contradic- 
tions.    Tlie  single  doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ's 


mission  naturally  produces  the  necessity  of 
sanctification.  Ye  believe  that  the  love  of 
holiness  is  so  essential  to  God,  that  rather  than 
pardon  criminals  without  punishing  their 
crimes,  he  has  punished  his  own  Son.  And  can 
ye  believe  that  the  God,  to  whom  holiness  is 
so  essential,  will  bear  with  you  while  ye  mako 
no  efforts  to  be  holy  ?  Do  not  ye  see  that  in 
this  supposition  ye  imagine  a  contradictory 
God,  or,  rather  that  ye  contradict  yourselves  .'* 
In  the  first  supposition  ye  conceive  a  God 
to  whom  sin  is  infinitely  odious :  in  the  second, 
ye  conceive  a  God  to  whom  sm  is  infinitely 
tolerable.  In  the  first  supposition,  ye  conceive 
a  God,  who,  by  the  holiness  of  his  nature,  ex- 
acts a  satisfaction  :  in  the  second,  ye  conceive 
a  God,  who,  by  the  indifference  of  his  nature, 
loves  the  sinner  while  he  derives  no  motives 
from  the  satisfaction  to  forsake  his  sin.  In  the 
first  supposition,  ye  imagine  a  God  who  op- 
poses the  strongest  barriers  against  vice :  in 
the  second,  ye  imagine  a  God  who  removes 
every  obstacle  to  vice :  nothing  being  more 
likely  to  confirm  men  in  sin  than  an  imagina- 
tion, that,  to  what  length  soever  they  go,  they 
may  always  find  in  the  sacrifice  of  the  Son  of 
God,  an  infallible  way  of  avoiding  the  pun- 
ishment due  to  their  sin,  whenever  they  shall 
have  recourse  to  that  sacrifice.  Were  it  ne- 
cessary to  enlarge  this  article,  and  to  take  one 
doctrine  after  another,  you  would  see  that 
every  doctrine  of  religion  proves  what  we 
have  advanced,  concerning  the  natural  con- 
nexion of  religious  speculative  truths,  with 
truths  of  practice. 

But,  if  practical  truths  of  religion  are  con- 
nected with  speculative  truths,  each  of  the 
truths  of  practice  is  also  closely  connected  with 
another.  All  virtues  mutually  support  each 
other,  and  there  is  no  invalidating  one  part  of 
our  morality,  without,  on  tliat  very  account, 
invalidating  the  whole. 

In  our  treatises  of  morality,  we  have  usually 
assigned  three  objects  to  our  virtues.  The 
first  of  these  objects  is  God:  the  second  is  our 
neighbour :  and  the  third  ourselves.  St.  Paul 
is  the  author  of  this  division.  '  The  grace  of 
God  that  bringeth  salvation,  hath  appeared  to 
all  men;  teaching  us,  that  denying  ungodli- 
ness, and  worldly  lusts,  we  should  live  sober- 
ly, righteously,  and  godly,  in  this  present 
world,'  Tit.  ii.  11,  12.  But  all  these 
are  connected  together:  for  we  cannot  live 
godli/  without  living  at  the  same  time  righlc- 
ouslij  and  soberly  :  because  to  live  godh/  is  to 
perform  what  religion  appoints,  and  to  take  j- 
that  perfect  Being  for  our  example  to  whom  ^ 
religion  conducts  and  unites  us.  Now  to  live 
as  religion  appoints,  and  to  take  that  perfect 
Being  for  our  pattern  to  whom  religion  con- 
ducts and  unites  us,  is  to  live  righleously  with 
our  neighbour,  and  soberly  with  ourselves. 
Strictly  speaking,  we  have  not  one  virtue  un- 
less we  have  all  virtues ;  nor  are  we  free 
from  one  vice  unless  we  be  free  from  all 
vices ;  we  are  not  truly  charitable  unless 
we  be  truly  just,  nor  are  we  truly  just 
utdess  we  be  truly  charitable  :  we  are 
not  truly  liberal  but  as  we  avoid  profuso- 
neas,   nor  are   we    truly    frugal   but    as   we 


50 


THE  PERFECTION  OF 


[SkR.  1. 


avoid  aTarice.  As  I  iaid  before,  all  virtues 
nattirally  follow  one  another,  and  afford  each 
other  a  mutual  support. 

Such  is  the  chain  of  religious  truths:  such 
is  the  connexion,  not  only  of  each  truth  of 
speculation,  but  of  speculative  truths  with 
the  truths  of  practice.  There  is  then  a  con- 
catenation, a  harmony,  a  connexion  in  the 
truths  of  religion  ;  there  is  a  system,  a  body 
of  doctrine,  in  the  gospel.  This  is  the  article 
that  we  proposed  to  prove. 

But,  a  religion  in  which  there  is  such  a 
chain,  such  a  harmony  and  connexion  ;  a  bo- 
dy of  doctrine  so  systematically  compacted 
and  united,  ought  not  to  be  taken  by  bits  and 
parts. 

To  illustrate  this  we  may  compare  spiritual 
with  natural  things.  The  more  art  and  inge- 
nuity there  is  in  a  machine  composed  of  divers 
wheels,  the  more  necessary  it  is  to  consider  it 
in  its  whole,  and  in  all  its  arrangements,  and 
tlie  more  does  its  beauty  escape  our  observa- 
tion when  we  confine  our  attention  to  a  single 
wheel :  because  the  more  art  there  is  in  a  ma- 
chine, the  more  essential  is  the  minutest  part 
to  its  perfection.  Now  depiive  a  machine  of 
an  essential  part,  and  you  deface  and  destroy 
it. 

Apply  this  to  spiritual  things.  In  a  com- 
pact system,  in  a  coherent  body  of  doctrine, 
there  is  nothing  useless,  nothing  which  ought 
to  occupy  the  very  place  that  the  genius  who 
composed  the  whole  hath  given  it.  What  will 
become  of  religion  if  ye  consider  'any  of  its 
doctrines  separately  ?  What  becomes  of  reli- 
gion if  ye  consider  the  holiness  of  God,  with- 
out his  justice,  or  liis  justice  without  his  mer- 
cy.^ 

n.  Let  us  then  proceed  to  inquire  why  so 
many  of  us  confine  ourselves  to  a  small  number 
of  religious  truths,  and  incapacitate  ourselves 
for  examining  the  whole  system.  The  fact  is 
too  certain.  Hence,  our  preachers  seem  to 
lead  us  in  obscure  paths,  and  to  lose  us  in 
abstract  speculations,  when  they  treat  of  some 
of  the  attributes  of  God  ;  such  as  his  faitliful- 
ness,  his  love  of  order,  his  regard  for  his  intelli- 
gent creatures.  It  is  owing  to  this  that  we 
are,  in  some  sense,  well  acquainted  with  some 
truths  of  religion,  while  we  remain  entirely  ig- 
norant of  others,  which  are  equally  plain,  and 
equally  important.  Hence  it  is  that  the  great- 
est part  of  our  sermons  produce  so  little  fruit, 
because  sermons  are,  at  least  they  ought  to  be, 
connected  discourses,  in  which  the  principle 
founds  the  consequence,  and  the  consequence 
follows  the  principle ;  all  which  supposes  in 
the  hearers  a  habit  of  meditation  and  atten- 
tion. For  the  same  reason  we  are  apt  to  be 
offended  when  any  body  attempts  to  draw  ns 
out  of  the  sphere  of  our  prej  udices,  and  are  not 
only  ignorant,  but  (if  3'ou  will  pardon  the  ex- 
pression) ignorant  with  gravity,  and  derive  I 
know  not  what  glory  from  our  own  stupidity. 
Hence  it  is  that  a  preacher  is  seldom  or  never 
allowed  to  soar  in  his  sermons,  to  rise  into  the 
contemplation  of  some  lofty  and  rapturous  ob- 
jects, but  must  always  descend  to  the  Ji rsi  jjrm- 
cipks  of  religion,  as  if  he  preached  for  the  first 
time,  or,  as  if  hia  auditors  for  the  first  time 


heard.  Hence  also  it  is  that  some  doctrines, 
which  are  true  in  themselves,  demonstrated  in 
our  scriptures,  and  essential  to  religion,  become 
errors,  yea,  sources  of  many  errors  in  our 
mouths,  because  we  consider  them  only  in 
themselves,  and  not  in  connexion  with  other 
doctrines,  or  in  the  proper  places  to  which 
they  belong  in  the  system  of  religion.  This 
might  be  easily  proved  in  regard  to  the  doc- 
trines of  the  mercy  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ, 
the  sacrifice  of  the  cross,  the  necessity  of  the 
Holy  Spirit's  assistance :  doctrines  true,  de- 
monstrated, and  essential ;  but  doctrines  which 
will  precipitate  us  from  one  abyss  to  another, 
if  we  consider  them  as  our  people  too  often 
consider  them,  and  as  they  have  been  too  of- 
ten considered  in  the  schools,  in  an  abstract 
and  detached  manner.  The  fact  then  is  too 
certain.  Let  us  attend  to  tlie  principal  causes 
ofit. 

Four  principal  causes  may  be  assigned :  1. 
A  party-spirit.  2.  The  choice  of  teachers.  3. 
A  hurry  of  business.  Above  all,  4.  The  love 
of  pleasure.  As  we  sha>l  take  the  liberty  of 
pointing  out  the  causes  of  this  malady,  we  shall 
also  prescribe  the  remedy,  whether  our  most 
humble  remonstrances  regard  the  people,  the 
pastors,  or  even  the  sovereign,  whose  noblest 
office,  as  Avell  as  most  sacred  and  inviolable  du- 
ty, it  is  to  watch  for  the  support  of  the  truth, 
and  the  government  of  the  church. 

1.  The  first  cause  that  we  have  assigned  is 
a  parly-spirit.  This  is  a  disposition  that  can- 
not be  easily  defined,  and  it  would  be  difficult 
to  include  in  a  definition  of  it  even  its  genus 
and  species  :  it  is  a  monstrous  composition  of 
all  bad  genuses  and  of  all  bad  species  ;  it  is  a 
hydra  that  reproduces  while  it  seems  to  de- 
stroy itself,  and  which,  when  one  head  hath 
been  cut  off,  instantly  produces  a  thousand 
more.  Sometimes  it  is  superstition,  which 
inclines  us  to  deify  certain  idols,  and,  after  ha- 
ving formed,  to  prostrate  first  before  them. 
Sometimes  it  is  ignorance  which  prevents  our 
perceiviag  the  importance  of  some  revealed 
truths,  or  the  dreadful  consequences  of  some 
prejudices  that  we  had  embraced  in  childhood. 
Sometimes  it  is  arrogance,  which  rashly  main- 
tains whetever  it  has  once  advanced,  advan- 
ced perhaps  inconsiderately,  but  which  will 
afterwards  be  resolutely  defended  till  death, 
for  no  other  reason  but  because  it  has  been 
once  asserted,  and  because  it  is  too  mortifying 
to  yield,  and  say,  /  atn  wrong,  I  tvas  mislaken. 
Sometimes  it  is  a  spirit  of  malice  and  barbari- 
t)',  which  abhors,  exclaims  against,  persecutes, 
and  would  even  exterminate,  all  who  dare 
contradict  its  oracular  propositions.  Oftcner 
still  it  is  the  union  of  all  these  vices 'together. 
A  party-spirit  is  that  disposition  which  enve- 
noms so  many  hearts,  separates  so  many  fami- 
lies, divides  so  many  societies,  which  has  pro- 
duced so  many  excommunications,  thundered 
out  so  many  anathemas,  drawn  up  so  many  ca- 
nons, assembled  so  many  coimcils,  and  has 
been  so  often  on  the  point  of  subverting  the 
great  work  of  the  reformation,  the  noblest  op- 
position that  was  ever  formed  against  it. 

This  spirit,  which  we  have  faintly  described, 
must  naturally  incapacitate  a  man  for  consider- 


Ser.  I.] 


CHRISTIAN  KNOWLEDGE. 


51 


in*  the  whole  of  religion  :  it  must  naturally 
incline  him  to  take  it  only  by  bits  and  shreds. 
On  the  one  hand,  it  contracts  the  mind :  for 
how  can  a  soul  that  harbours  and  cherishes  all 
the  phantoms  which  a  party-spirit  produces, 
how  can  such  a  soul  study  and  meditate  as  re- 
ligion requires  ?  On  the  other  hand,  a  party- 
spirit  depraves  the  heart,  and  eradicates  the 
desire  of  knowing  religion.  A  man  animated 
"with  the  spirit  of  party,  directs  all  his  atten- 
tion to  such  propositions  of  religion  as  seem  to 
favour  his  erroneous  opinions,  and  irregular 
passions,  and  diverts  it  from  all  that  oppose 
them  ;  his  system  includes  only  what  strength- 
ens his  party,  it  is  exclusive  of  every  thing  that 
weakens  or  opposes  it. 

This  is  the  first  cause  of  the  malady.  The 
remedy  is  easily  discovered.  Let  us  divest 
ourselves  of  a  party-spirit.  Let  us  never  de- 
termine an  opinion,  by  its  agreement  or  disa- 
greement with  what  our  mastei-s,  our  parents, 
or  our  teachers  have  inculcated,  but  by  its  con- 
formity or  contrariety  to  the  doctrine  of  Jesus 
Christ  and  his  apostles.  Let  us  never  receive 
or  reject  a  maxim  because  it  favours  or  oppo- 
ses our  passions,  but  as  it  agrees  with,  or  op- 
poses the  laws  of  that  tribunal,  the  basis  of 
which  are  justice  and  truth.  Let  us  be  fully 
convinced  that  our  chief  study  should  be,  to 
know  what  God  determines,  and  to  make  his 
commands  the  only  rules  of  our  knowledge  and 
practice. 

2.  The  second  cause  of  the  evil  we  would 
remove  is,  The  choice  of  teachers.  In  general, 
we  have  three  sorts  of  teachers.  The  first  are 
catechists,  who  teach  our  children  the  princi- 
ples of  religion.  The  second  are  ministers. 
The  third  prepare  the  minds  of  young  people 
for  the  ministry  itself. 

The  carelessness  that  prevails  in  the  choice 
of  the  first  sort  of  teachers  cannot  be  sufficient- 
ly lamented.  The  care  of  instructing  our 
children  is  committed  to  people  more  fit  for 
disciples  than  masters,  and  the  meanest  talents 
arc  thought  more  than  sufficient  to  teach  the 
first  principles  of  religion.  The  narrowest  and 
dullest  genius  is  not  ashamed  to  profess  him- 
self a  divine  and  a  catechist.  And  yet  what 
capacity  does  it  not  require  to  lay  the  first 
foundations  of  the  edifice  of  salvation  !  What 
address  to  take  the  different  forms  necessary  to 
insinuate  into  minds  of  catechumens,  and  to 
conciliate  their  attention  and  love  I  What  dex- 
terity to  proportion  instruction  to  the  different 
ages  and  characters  of  learners  !  How  much 
knowledge,  and  how  many  accomplishments 
are  necessary  to  discern  what  is  fundamental  to 
a  youth  of  fifteen  years  of  age !  What  one 
child  of  superior  talents  cannot  be  ignorant  of 
without  danger,  and  what  another  of  inferior 
talents  may  remain  innocently  unacquainted 
with  1  Heads  of  families,  this  article  concerns 
you  in  a  particular  manner.  What  account 
can  ye  render  to  God  of  the  cluldren  with 
whom  he  has  intrusted  you,  if,  while  ye  take 
so  much  pains,  and  are  at  so  much  expense  to 
teach  them  the  liberal  arts,  and  to  acquaint 
them  with  human  sciences,  ye  discover  so 
much  negligence  in  teaching  them  the  know- 
ledge of  salvation  ?     Not  only  in  a  future  state 


ought  ye  to  fear  the  punishment  of  so  criminal 
a  conduct ;  ye  will  be  punished  in  this  present 
world.  Children  ignorant  of  religion  will  but 
little  understand  their  duty  to  their  parents. 
They  will  become  the  cross,  as  they  will  be 
the  shame  and  infamy  of  your  life.  They  will 
shake  off"  your  yoke  as  soon  as  they  have  passed 
their  childhood ;  they  will  abandon  you  to  the 
weakness,  infii-mities,  and  disquietudes  of  old 
age,  when  you  arrive  at  that  distasteful  period 
of  life,  which  can  be  rendered  agreeable  only 
by  the  care,  the  tenderness,  and  assiduity  of  a 
well-bred  son.  Let  us  unite  all  our  endea- 
vours, my  dear  brethren,  to  remove  this  evil. 
Let  us  honour  an  employment  which  nothing 
but  the  licentiousness  of  the  age  could  have 
rendered  contemptible.  Let  us  consider  that, 
as  one  of  the  most  important  trusts  of  the  state, 
one  of  the  most  respectable  posts  of  society, 
which  is  appointed  to  seminate  religious  prin- 
ciples in  our  children,  to  inspire  them  with  pi- 
ety, to  guard  them  against  the  snares  that  they 
will  meet  with  in  the  world,  and,  by  these 
means,  to  render  them  dutiful  in  childhood, 
faithful  in  conjugal  life,  tender  parents,  good 
citizens,  and  able  magistrates. 

The  pastors  of  our  churches  are  our  second 
class  of  teachers.  I  know  that  all  our  suffi- 
ciency is  of  God,  2  Cor.  iii.  5.  that  though  Paul 
may  plant,  and  ApoUos  water,  God  only  givetk 
the  increase :  that  holy  men,  considering  the 
end  of  the  ministry,  have  exclaimed.  Who  is 
sufficient  for  these  thi7igs  ?  1  Cor.  iii.  6.  Yet 
the  ordinary  means  which  God  uses  for  the  con- 
version of  sinners,  are  the  ministry  of  the  word, 
and  the  qualifications  of  ministers,  for  faith 
cometh  by  hearing,  Rom.  x.  17.  Now  this 
word,  my  brethren,  is  not  preached  with  equal 
power  by  all;  and,  though  the  fowidation 
which  each  lays  be  the  same,  it  is  too  true  that 
some  build  upon  this  foundation  the  gold  and 
'precious  stones  of  a  solid  and  holy  doctrine, 
while  others  build  with  the  wood,  hay,  and 
stubble,  1  Cor.  iii.  12.  of  their  own  errors,  the 
productions  of  a  confused  imagination,  and  a 
mistaken  eloquence.  And  as  the  word  is  not 
preached  with  the  same  power,  so  it  is  not  at- 
tended with  the  same  success. 

But  when  the  word  proceeds  from  the 
mouth  of  a  man  whom  G  od  has  sealed,  and  en- 
riched with  extraordinary  talents  ;  when  it 
proceeds  from  a  man,  who  has  the  tongue  of  the 
learned  and  the  wisdom  of  the  wise,  as  the 
Scripture  speaks,  Isa.  1.  4.  When  it  proceeds 
from  a  Boanerges,  a  son  of  thunder,  from  a 
Moses,  mighty  in  words  and  in  deeds,  Mark  iii. 
17.  Acts  vii.  22,  who  maintains  the  dignity  of 
his  doctrine  by  the  purity  of  his  morals,  and  by 
the  power  of  his  good  example,  then  the  word 
is  heard  with  attention  ;  from  the  ear  it  passes 
to  the  mind,  from  the  mind  to  the  heart,  from 
the  heart  to  the  life  ;  it  penetrates,  it  inflames, 
it  transports.  It  becomes  a  hammer  breaking 
the  hardest  hearts,  a  two-edged  sivord,  dividing 
the  father  from  the  son,  the  son  from  the  fa- 
ther, dissolving  all  the  bonds  of  flesh  and  blood, 
the  connexions  of  nature,  and  the  love  of  self. 

What  precaution,  what  circumspection,  and, 
in  some  sort,  what  dread,  ought  to  prevail  in 
the  choice  of  an  office,  which  so  gi'eatly  influ- 


52 


THE  PERFECTION  OP 


[Ser.  L 


ences  the  salvation  of  those  among  whom  it  is 
exercised  !  There  needs  only  the  bad  system 
of  a  pastor  to  produce  and  preserve  thousands 
of  false  notions  of  religion  in  the  people's 
minds  :  notions,  which  fifty  years'  labour  of  a 
more  wise  and  sensible  ministry  will  scarcely 
be  able  to  eradicate.  There  needs  only  a  pas- 
tor sold  to  sordid  interest  to  put  up,  in  some 
sort,  salvation  to  sale,  and  to  regulate  places  in 
paradise  according  to  the  diligence  or  negli- 
gence with  which  the  people  gratify  the  ava- 
rice of  him  who  distributes  them.  There 
needs  only  a  pastor  fretted  with  envy  and 
jealousy  against  his  brethren  to  poison  their 
ministry  by  himself,  or  by  his  emissaries.  Yea 
sometimes,  there  needs  only  the  want  of  some 
less  essential  talents  in  a  minister  to  give  ad- 
vantage to  the  enemies  of  religion,  and  to  de- 
prive the  truths  which  he  preaches  of  that  pro- 
found respect  which  is  their  due :  a  respect 
that  even  enemies  could  not  withhold,  if  the 
gospel  were  properly  preached,  and  its  truths 
exhibited  in  their  true  point  of  view. 

It  would  be  unreasonable,  perhaps,  to  de- 
velope  this  article  now.  How  many  of  our 
people  would  felicitate  themselves  if  we  were 
to  furnish  them  with  pretences  for  imputing 
their  unfruitfulness  to  those  who  cultivate 
them !  But,  if  this  article  must  not  be  de- 
veloped, what  grave  remonstrances,  what 
pressing  exhortations,  what  fervent  prayers, 
should  it  occasion  !  Let  the  heads  of  families 
consider  the  heinousness  of  their  conduct  in 
presuming  to  offer  impure  victims  to  the  Lord, 
end  in  consecrating  those  children  to  the  holy 
ministry,  in  whom  they  cannot  but  discover 
dispositions  that  render  them  unworthy  of  it. 
May  ecclesiastical  bodies  never  assemble  for 
the  election  of  pastors,  without  making  pro- 
found reflections  on  the  importance  of  the  ser- 
vice in  which  they  are  engaged,  and  the  great- 
ness of  the  trust  which  the  sovereign  commits 
to  them  !  May  they  never  ordain  without  re- 
collecting, that,  to  a  certain  degree,  they  will 
be  responsible  for  all  the  sad  consequences  of 
a  faithless  or  a  fruitless  ministry !  May  they 
always  prostrate  themselves  on  these  occa- 
sions before  God,  as  the  apostles  in  the  same 
case  did,  and  pray,  '  Lord,  show  whom  thou 
hast  chosen,'  Acts  i.  24.  May  our  rulers  and 
magistrates  be  aflected  with  the  worth  of 
those  souls  whom  the  pastors  instruct  ;  and 
may  they  unite  all  their  piety,  all  their  pity, 
and  all  their  power,  to  procure  holy  men,  who 
may  adorn  so  eminent,  so  venerable  a  post ! 

What  has  been  said  on  the  choice  of  pastors 
still  more  particularly  regards  the  election  of 
tutoi-s,  who  are  employed  to  form  pastors  them- 
selves. Universities  are  public  springs,  whence 
rivulets  flow  into  all  the  church.  Place  at  the 
head  of  those  bodies  sound  philosoplicrs,.good 
divines,  wise  casuists,  and  they  will  become 
seminaries  of  pastors  after  God's  heart,  who 
will  form  the  minds,  and  regulate  the  morals, 
of  the  ])eople,  gently  bowing  them  to  the  yoke 
of  religion.  On  the  contrary,  place  men  of 
another  cliaractcr  at  the  head  of  our  universi- 
ties, and  they  will  simuI  out  impoisoned  minis- 
ters,  who   will    fliffuse    through    the   whole 


church  the  fatal    venom    which  tliemselves 
have  imbibed. 

3.  The  third  cause  which  we  have  assigned, 
of  the  infancy  and  novitiate  of  most  Christians 
in  religious  knowledge,  is  the  multitude  of 
their  secular  affairs.  Far  be  it  from  us  to  aim 
at  inspiring  you  with  superstitious  maxims. 
We  do  not  mean  that  they  Avho  fill  eminent 
posts  in  society  should  give  that  time  to  devo- 
tion which  the  good  of  the  community  re- 
quires. We  allow,  that  in  some  critical  con- 
junctures, the  time  appointed  for  devotion 
must  be  yielded  to  business.  There  are  some 
urgent  occasions  when  it  is  more  necessary  to 
fight  than  to  pray  :  there  are  times  of  impor- 
tant business  in  which  the  closet  must  be  sa- 
crificed to  the  cares  of  life,  and  second  causes 
must  be  attended  to,  even  when  one  would 
wish  to  be  occupied  only  about  the  first.  Yet, 
after  all,  the  duty  that  we  recommend  is  indis- 
pensable. Amidst  the  most  turbulent  solici- 
tudes of  life,  a  Christian  desirous  of  being 
saved,  will  devote  some  time  to  his  salvation. 
Some  part  of  the  day  he  will  redeem  from  the 
World  and  society,  to  meditate  on  eternity. 
This  was  the  practice  of  those  eminent  saints, 
whose  lives  are  proposed  as  patterns  to  us. 
The  histories  of  Abraham,  Moses,  Samuel,  and 
David,  are  well  known,  and  ye  recollect  those 
parts  of  their  lives  to  which  we  refer,  without 
our  detaining  you  in  a  repetition  now. 

The  last  cause  of  the  incapacity  of  so  many 
Christians  for  seeing  the  whole  of  religion  in 
its  connexion  and  harmony  :  the  last  cause 
of  their  taking  it  only  by  bits  and  shreds,  is 
their  love  of  sensual  pleasure.  We  do  not 
speak  here  of  those  gross  pleasures  at  which 
heathens  would  have  blushed,  and  which  are 
incompatible  with  Christianity.  We  attack 
pleasures  more  refined,  maxims  for  which  rea- 
sonable persons  become  sometimes  apologists : 
persons  who  on  more  accounts  than  one,  are 
worthy  of  being  proposed  as  examples :  per- 
sons who  would  seem  to  be  '  the  salt  of  the 
earth,'  the  flower  of  society,  and  whom  wo 
cannot  justly  accuse  of  not  loving  religion. 
How  rational,  how  religious  soever  they  ap- 
pear in  other  cases,  they  make  no  scruple  of 
passing  a  great  part  of  their  time  in  gaming, 
in  public  diversions,  in  a  round  of  worldly 
amusements  ;  in  pleasures,  which  not  only  ap- 
pear harmless,  but,  in  some  sort,  suitable  to 
their  rank,  and  which  seem  criminal  only  to 
those  who  think  it  their  duty  not  to  float  on 
the  surface  of  religion,  but  to  examine  the 
whole  that  it  requires  of  men,  on  whom  God 
hath  bestowed  tlie  inestimable  favour  of  re- 
vealing it.  We  may  presume,  that  if  we  show 
people  of  this  sort,  that  this  way  of  life  is  one 
of  the  principal  obstacles  to  their  progress  in 
religion,  and  prevents  their  knowing  all  its 
beauties,  and  relishing  all  its  delights,  we  shall 
not  speak  without  success.  In  order  to  this, 
pardon  me  if  I  conjure  you  to  hear  this  article, 
not  only  witli  attention,  but  with  that  impar- 
tiality which  alone  can  enable  you  to  know 
whether  we  utter  our  own  speculations,  or 
preacli  the  gospel  of  Jcsns  Christ.  JlecoUcct 
here  tliat  general  notion  of  religion  which  we 


SElt.  I.] 


CHRISTIAN  KNOWLEDGE. 


63 


have  laid  down  :  tt  contains  truths  of  specu- 
lation, and  truths  of  practice.  Such  sensual 
pleasures  as  we  have  just  now  mentioned, 
form  invincible  obstacles  to  tlie  knowledge  of 
both. 

I.  To  the  knowledge  of  speculative  truths. 
How  is  it  possible  for  a  man  to  obtain  a  com- 
plete system  of  the  doctrines  of  tiie  gospel 
while  lie  is  a  slave  to  sensual  pleasures  ! 

1 .  To  obtain  a  complete  system  of  the  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel  there  must  be  a  certain 
habit  of  thinking  and  meditating.  In  vain  ye 
turn  over  whole  volumes,  in  vain  ye  attend 
methodical  sermons,  in  vain  ye  parade  with 
bodies  of  divinity,  ye  can  never  comprehend 
the  connexion  of  religious  truths  unless  ye 
acquire  a  habit  of  arranging  ideas,  of  laying 
down  principles,  of  deducing  consequences, 
in  short  of  forming  systems  yourselves.  This 
habit  cannot  be  acquired  witJiout  exercise, 
it  is  unattainable  without  serious  attention, 
and  profound  application.  But  how  can  peo- 
ple devoted  to  pleasure  acquire  such  a  habit .'' 
Sensual  pleasure  is  an  inexhaustible  source 
of  dissipation  :  it  dissipates  in  preparing,  it 
dissipates  in  studying,  it  dissipates  after  the 
etudy  is  at  an  end. 

2.  To  counterbalance  the  difficulty  of  me- 
ditation and  study,  there  must  be  a  relish  for 
it.  Those  who  make  study  a  duty,  or  a  trade, 
seldom  make  any  great  progress  in  know- 
ledge :  at  least  a  prodigious  difference  has 
always  been  observed  between  the  proficien- 
cy of  those  who  study  by  inclination,  and 
those  who  study  by  necessity.  But  nothing 
is  more  capable  of  disgusting  us  with  the 
epiritual  pleasures  of  study  and  meditation 
than  the  love  of  sensual  pleasures.  We  will 
not  intrude  into  the  closets  of  these  persons. 
But  is  there  not  a  prodigious  difference  be- 
tween their  application  to  study  and  their 
attention  to  pleasure  .'  The  one  is  a  violence 
ofFeied  to  themselves,  the  other  a  voluptuous- 
ness after  which  they  sigh.  The  one  is  an  in- 
tolerable burden,  eagerly  shaken  off  as  soon 
as  the  time  appointed  expires  :  the  other  is  a 
delicious  gratification,  from  whicli  it  is  pain- 
ful to  part,  when  nature  exhausted  can  sup- 
port it  no  longer,  or  troublesome  duty  de- 
mands a  cessation.  In  the  one,  hours  and 
moments  are  counted,  and  the  happiest  period 
is  that  which  terminates  the  pursuit :  but  in 
the  other,  time  glides  awa}'^  imperceptibly, 
and  people  wish  for  the  power  of  prolonging 
the  course  of  the  day,  and  the  duration  of 
life. 

3.  To  acquire  a  complete  knowledge  of  re- 
ligious truths,  it  is  not  enougli  to  study  them 
in  the  closet,  in  retirement  and  silence  ;  we 
must  converse  with  others  who  study  tliem 
too.  But  the  love  of  sensual  pleasure  indis- 
poses us  for  such  conversations.  Slaves  to 
sensual  pleasures  have  but  little  taste  for 
those  delicious  societies,  whose  mutual  bond 
is  utility,  in  whicli  impartial  inquirers  pro- 
pose their  doubts,  raise  their  objections,  com- 
municate their  discoveries,  and  reciprocally 
assist  each  other's  edification  :  for,  deprive 
those  who  love  sensual  pleasures,  of  ganiiiif 
and  diversions,  conversation  instantly  lan- 
guishes, and  converse  is  at  an  end. 

But,  secondly,  if  the  love  of  sensual  plea- 
H 


sure  raise  such  great  obstacles  to  the  know- 
ledge of  speculative  truths,  it  raises  incom- 
parably greater  still  to  the  truths  of  practice. 
There  are  some  Scripture  maxims  which  are 
never  thought  of  by  tlie  persons  in  question, 
except  it  be  to  enervate  and  destroy  tliem  ;  at 
least,  they  make  no  part  of  their  system  of 
morality. 

In  your  system  of  morality,  what  becomes 
of  this  Scripture  ma.xim,  '  evil  communica- 
tions corrupt  good  manners  .''  1  Cor.  xv.  33. 
Nothing  forms  connexions  more  intimate,  and 
at  tlie  same  time  more  extravagant,  than  an 
immoderate  love  of  pleasure.  Men  who  dif- 
fer in  manners,  age,  rehgion,  birth,  principles, 
educations,  are  all  united  by  this  bond.  The 
passionate  and  the  moderate,  the  generous 
and  the  avaricious,  the  young  and  the  old, 
agree  to  exercise  a  mutual  condescension  and 
patience  towards  each  other,  because  the 
same  spirit  actuates,  and  tlie  same  necessi- 
ties haunt  them  ;  and  because  the  love  of 
pleasure,  which  animates  them  all,  can  only 
be  gratified  by  the  concurrence  of  each  indi- 
vidual. 

In  your  system  of  morality,  what  becomes 
of  those  maxims  of  Scripture,  which  say  that 
we  must  '  confess  Jesus  Christ  before  men,' 
that  '  whosoever  shall  be  ashamed  of  him  be- 
fore men,  of  liiin  will  he  be  ashamed  when 
he  Cometh  in  the  glory  of  his  Father  .-"  Matt. 
X.  32.  Mark  viii.  38.  A  man  who  is  engaged 
in  the  monstrous  assembly  which  the  love  of 
pleasure  forms,  mast  hear  religion  disputed, 
the  morality  of  the  gospel  attacked,  good 
manners  subverted,  the  name  of  God  blas- 
phemed :  and  he  must  hear  all  these  without 
daring  to  discover  the  sentiments  of  his  heart, 
because,  as  I  just  now  observed,  patience  and 
compliance  animate  that  body  to  which  he  is 
attached  by  such  necessary  and  intimate  ties. 

In  your  system  of  morality,  what  becomes 
of  those  Scripture  maxims,  which  threaten 
those  with  the  greatest  punishments  who  in- 
jure others  ?  The  love  of  sensual  pleasure 
causes  offences  of  the  most  odious  kind  ;  I 
mean,  it  betrays  your  partners  in  pleasure 
into  vice.  Ye  game  without  avarice  ;  but  do 
ye  not  excite  avarice  in  tiie  minds  of  those 
who  play  with  you  .'  Ye  do  not  injure  your 
families  ;  but  do  ye  not  occasion  other  men 
to  injure  theirs  f  Ye  are  guilty  of  no  fraud ; 
but  do  ye  not  tempt  others  to  be  fraudulent  f 

What  becomes  in  your  moral  system  of 
tliose  maxims  of  Scripture  that  require  us  to 
contribute  to  the  the  excision  of  '  all  wicked 
doers  from  the  city  of  the  Lord,'  Psal.  ci.  8. 
to  discountenance  those  wiio  commit  a  crime 
as  well  as  to  renounce  it  ourselves  .'  The  love 
of  sensual  pleasure  makes  us  countenance 
people  of  tlie  most  irregular  conduct,  whose 
snares  are  the  most  dangerous,  whose  exam- 
ples are  the  most  fatal,  whose  conversations 
are  the  most  j)ernicious  to  our  children  and 
to  our  families,  to  civil  society  and  to  the 
church  of  God. 

In  your  system  of  morality,  what  becomes 
of  those  maxims  of  Scripture  which  expostu- 
late witli  us,  when  the  Lord  chnstiseth  us,  to 
'  be  afflicted  and  mourn,  to  humble  ourselves 
under  the  mighty  hand  of  God  ;  to  enter  into 
our  chambers,  and  shut  the  doors  about  us,  ta 


54 


THE  PERFECTION  OF  CHRISTIAN  KNOWLEIXJE. 


[Ser.  L 


hido  onrsclvcs  until  the  Indignation  be  over- 

East ;  to  examine  ourselves  before  the  decree 
ring  forth  ;  to  prepare  ourselves  to  meet  our 
God,  to  hear  the  rod,  and  who  hath  appoint- 
ed it,'  James  iv.  9.  1  Pet.  v.  6.  Isa.  xxvi.  20. 
Zeph.  ii.  ],  2.  Amos  iv.  12.  Mieah  vi.  9.  to 
mourn  in  sackcloth  and  ashes ;  and  while  we 
feel  present  miseries,  to  remember  those  that 
are  past,  tremble  for  tliose  that  are  yet  to 
come,  and  endeavour  by  extraordinary  efforts 
to  avert  the  anger  of  heaven  .'  The  love  of 
sensual  pleasure  turns  away  people's  atten- 
tion from  all  these  maxims,  and  represents 
those  who  preach  them  as  wild  visionaries,  or 
dry  declaimers.  The  people  of  whom  we 
speak,  these  pious  people,  these  people  who 
love  their  salvation,  these  people  who  pretend 
to  the  glory  of  being  proposed  for  examples, 
can  in  times  of  the  deepest  distress,  when  the 
church  is  bathed  in  tears,  while  the  arm  of 
God  is  crushing  our  brethren  and  our  allies, 
Avhen  the  same  terrible  arm  is  lifted  over  us, 
when  we  are  threatened  with  extreme  mise- 
ries, when  the  scourges  of  God  are  at  our 
gates,  when  there  needs  only  the  arrival  of 
one  ship,  the  blowing  of  one  wind,  the  waft- 
ing of  one  blast,  to  convey  pestilence  and 
plague  into  our  country  ;  these  people  can 
.  .  .  .  O  God  !  '  open  their  eyes  that 
they  may  see  !'  2  Kings  vi.  17. 

In  your  system  of  morality,  what  becomes 
of  Scripture  exhortations  to  '  redeem  the 
time,  to  know  the  time  of  our  visitation,  to 
do  all  that  our  hands  find  to  do,  because  there 
is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor 
wisdom  in  the  grave  whither  we  go  t'  The 
love  of  pleasure  inclines  mortals,  who  may 
die  in  a  few  days,  people  who  perhaps  have 
only  a  few  days  to  bid  their  last  adieus,  to 
embrace  their  families,  to  settle  their  tempo- 
ral affairs,  to  examine  the  neglected  parts  of 
religion,  to  re-establish  the  injured  reputation 
of  a  neighbour,  in  a  word,  to  prepare  them- 
selves to  appear  before  that  terrible  tribunal 
to  which  death  cites  them  :  the  love  of  sen- 
sual pleasure  inclines  these  poor  creatures, 
who  have  so  short  a  time  to  live,  and  so  great 
a  task  to  perform  ;  the  love  of  sensual  plea- 
sure inclines  these  people  to  waste  a  consider- 
able part  of  this  fleeting  life  in  amusements, 
that  obliterate  both  the  shortness  of  life,  and 
the  necessity  of  death. 

How  often  have  we  seen  old  age  as  greedy 
of  pleasure  as  youth  !  how  often  have  we 
seen  people  bowing  under  the  weight  of  age, 
how  often  have  we  seen  them,  even  when 
their  trembling  hands  could  scarcely  hold  the 
cards,  or  the  dice,  make  their  feeble  efforts  to 
game  ;  and,  when  their  decayed  eyes  were 
incapable  of  distinguishing  the  spots,  assist 
nature  by  art,  their  natural  sight  with  artifi- 
cial glasses,  and  thus  consecrate  the  remains, 
those  precious  remains,  of  life  to  gaming, 
which  God  had  granted  for  repentance  ! 

All  these  causes  of  the  infancy  and  noviti- 
ate of  Christians  in  regard  to  religion,  unite 
in  one,  which  in  finishing  this  discourse,  we 
cannot  but  lament,  nor  can.  we  lament  it  too 
much.  We  do  not  understand  our  own  reli- 
gion :  we  are,  most  of  us,  incapable  of  jier- 
ceiving  the  admirable  order,  the  beautiful 
aymmetry,  of  its  component  parts.   Why.'  It 


is  because  wo  have  so  little  zeal  for  our  sal- 
vation ;  it  is  because  we  form  such  languid 
desires  to  be  saved. 

Indeed  I  know,  that,  except  some  unnatu- 
ral creatures,  except  some  monsters,  to  whom 
this  discourse  is  not  addressed,  every  body 
professes  to  desire  to  be  saved,  yea,  to  prefer 
salvation  to  whatever  is  most  pompous  m  the 
universe,  and  most  pleasant  in  this  life.  But, 
when  the  attainment  of  it  in  God's  way  is  in 
question,  in  the  only  way  that  agrees  with 
the  holiness  of  his  nature  to  direct,  and  with 
our  happiness  to  obey,  what  a  number  of  peo- 
ple do  we  meet  with,  whose  desires  vanish  ? 
I  desire  to  be  saved,  says  each  to  himself ;  I 
desire  to  be  saved,  but  not  by  such  a  religion 
as  the  gospel  prescribes,  such  as  Jesus  Christ 
preached,  such  as  the  apostles  and  ministers 
of  the  gospel  preach  after  him  ;  but  I  desire 
to  be  saved  by  such  a  religion  as  I  have  con- 
ceived, such  a  one  as  gratifies  my  passions 
and  caprices.  I  desire  to  be  saved,  but  it  is 
on  condition,  that,  while  I  obey  some  of  the 
precepts  of  Jesus  Christ,  he  will  dispense 
with  my  obedience  of  others.  I  desire  to  be 
saved  :  but  not  on  condition  of  my  correcting 
my  prejudices,  and  submitting  them  to  the 
precepts  of  Jesus  Clirist ;  but  on  condition 
that  the  precepts  of  Jesus  Christ  should  yield 
to  my  prejudices.  I  desire  to  be  saved  :  but 
on  condition  of  retaining  my  prepossessions, 
the  system  that  I  have  arranged,  the  way  of 
life  that  I  pursue,  and  intend  to  pursue  till  I 
die.  To  desire  salvation  in  this  manner  is  too 
common  a  disposition  among  Christians.  But 
to  desire  salvation  in  saying  to  God,  with  a 
sincere  desire  of  obeying  his  voice,  '  Lord, 
what  v/ilt  thou  have  me  to  do  .''  Acts  ix.  6. ; 
Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  believe .' 
Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  love  .'  Lord, 
what  inclinations  wilt  thou  have  me  to  op- 
pose, to  mortify,  to  sacrifice  .''  To  be  willing 
to  be  saved  in  receiving,  without  exception, 
all  the  practical  truths,  which  compose  an 
essential  part  of  that  religion  which  God  has 
given  us  :  Ah  !  my  brethren,  how  rare  is  this 
disposition  among  Christians  ! 

Without  this  disposition,  however,  (and  let 
us  not  be  ingenious  to  deceive  ourselves,) 
without  this  disposition  there  is  no  salvation. 
It  implies  a  contradiction  to  say  that  God 
will  save  us  in  an}'  other  way :  for  as  it  is 
contradictory  to  say  that  he  will  give  to  an 
equal  number  the  qualities  of  an  unequal 
number,  or  to  bodies  the  properties  of  spirits, 
or  to  spirits  the  properties  of  bodies  ;  so  also 
is  it  a  contradiction  to  say,  that  vice  shall 
reap  the  rewards  of  virtue,  that  the  highway 
to  hell  is  the  path  to  paradise. 

So  that  notliing  remains  in  concluding  this 
discourse  but  to  ask  you,  what  are  your  in- 
tentions .'  What  designs  have  ye  formed .' 
What  projects  do  ye  resolve  to  pursue .'  What 
are  your  aims .''  Have  ye  any  thing  more 
precious  than  your  souls  .''  Can  ye  conceive 
a  nobler  hope  than  that  of  being  saved  ?  Can 
ye  propose  a  more  advantageous  end  than 
your  own  salvation  ?  Can  ye  persuade  your- 
selves that  there  is  a  greater  felicity  than  tho 
fruition  of  God  .'  Will  ye  destroy  yourselves  ? 
Do  ye  renounce  those  delightful  hopes  that 
are  set  before  you  in  the  gospel .'    And  shall 


Seb.  II.] 


THE  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 


65 


all  the  fruit  of  our  ministry  be  to  accuse  and 
confound  you  before  God  ? 

Young  man,  thou  mayest  live  fifty  or  sixty 
years  :  but  at  the  expiration  of  those  fifty  or 
sixty  years,  time  finishes  and  eternity  begins. 
People  of  mature  age,  your  race  is  partly  run  ; 
ten,  fifteen,  or  twenty  years  more,  through 
the  dissipations  and  employments  inseparable 
from  your  lives,  will  vanish  with  an  incon- 
ceivable rapidity  ;  and  then,  time  finishes  and 
eternity  begins  with  you.  And  ye  old  peo- 
ple, a  few  years,  a  few  months,  a  few  days 
more,  and  behold  your  race  is  at  an  end  ;  be- 
hold your  time  finishes  and  your  eternity  be- 
gins. And  can  we  resist  tliis  idea  ?  Alas  ! 
what  hearts !  what  Christians  !  what  a 
church ! 


Grant,  Almighty  God,  that  our  prayers 
may  supply  the  defect  of  our  exhortations ; 
may  we  derive  from  thy  bosom  of  infinite 
mercies  what  we  despair  of  obtaining  from 
the  insensibility  of  our  hearers  !  O  thou  Au- 
thor of  religion,  thou  divine  Spirit,  from  whom 
alone  could  proceed  tliis  beautiful  system 
which  thou  hast  condescended  to  reveal  to  us, 
impress  it  in  all  its  parts  on  our  minds.  Pluck 
up  every  plant  which  thy  good  hand  hath  not 
planted.  Triumph  over  all  the  obstacles  that 
our  sins  oppose  to  thine  empire.  Shut  the 
gulfs  of  hell.  Open  the  gates  of  heaven. 
Save  us,  even  in  spite  of  ourselves.     Amen. 

To  the  Father,  to  the  Son,  to  the  Holy 
Ghost,  be  honour  and  glory,  dominion  and 
power,  for  ever.    Amen. 


SERMON  II. 


THE  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 

Proac-bcd  In  tlie  Frejich  Church  at  Rotterdam,  on  the  first  Lord's  Day  of  the  Year  1734. 


2  Pet.  iii.  6, 

Beloved,  be  not  ignorant  of  this  one  things  that  one  day  is  with  the  Lord  as  a 
thousand  years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day. 


We  could  not  meditate  on  the  words  which 
you  have  heard,  my  brethren,  without  recol- 
lecting that  miraculous  cloud  wliich  conduct- 
ed the  Israelites  tlirough  the  desert.  It  was 
all  luminous  on  one  side,  and  all  opake  on  the 
other.*  The  Jews  say  that  it  was  the  throne, 
or  the  triumphal  chariot,  of  tliat  Angel  who 
marched  at  the  head  of  the  camp  of  Israel ; 
of  that  Angel  whom  they  call  the  Prince  of 
the  world,  the  Schckinah,  the  presc7ice  of  the 
divine  Majesty,  the  Deity  itself.  It  is  not 
needful  to  examine  tliis  opinion.  I  do  not 
know  whether  the  pillar  of  a  cloud  were  a 
throne  of  God,  but  it  was  a  beautiiul  symbol 
of  the  Deity.  What  is  the  Deity  in  regard  to 
us .'  If  it  bo  the  most  radiant  of  all  light,  it  is 
at  the  same  time  the  most  covered  with  dark- 
ness. Let  the  greatest  philosophers,  let  tlie 
most  extraordinary  geniuses,  elevate  their  me- 
ditations, and  take  the  loftiest  fliglits  of  which 
they  are  capable,  in  order  to  penetrate  into 
the  nature  of  the  divine  essence,  the  stronger 
efforts  they  make  to  understand  this  fearful 
subject,  the  more  will  they  be  absorbed  in  it : 
theniglier  tliey  approach  the  rays  of  this  sun, 
the  more  will  they  be  dazzled  with  its  lustre. 
But  yet,  let  the  feeblest  and  most  confined 
genius  seek  instructions,  in  meditating  on  the 
divine  grandeurs,  to  direct  his  faith,  to  regu- 
late his  conduct,  and  to  sweeten  the  miseries 
that  embitter,  this  valley  of  tears ;  he  shall 
happily  experience  what  the  prophet  did : 
*  does  he  look  to  him  ?  he  shall  be  lightened,' 
Ps.  xxxiv.  5. 

God  presents  himself  to  your  eyes  to-day, 


*  See  Uabbi  Menacliemin  Parasch.  Beschalec.  Exod. 
xiv.  19.  fol.  63.  edit,  de  Vcniee  5283.  S. 


as  he  once  presented  himself  to  the  Israelites 
in  that  marvellous  phenomenon.  Light  on 
one  side,  darkness  on  the  otlier.  '  A  thousand 
years  are  with  the  Lord  as  one  day,  and  one 
day  as  a  thousand  years.'  Let  the  greatest 
philosopliers,  let  those  extraordinary  beings 
in  whose  formation  God  seems  to  have  united 
an  angelic  intelligence  to  a  human  body,  let 
them  preach  in  our  stead,  let  them  fully  ex- 
plain tlie  words  of  my  te.xt.  From  what 
abysses  of  existence  does  tlie  perfect  Being 
derive  that  duration,  which  alike  overspreads 
the  present,,  the  future,  and  the  past .'  how 
conceive  a  continuation  of  existence  without 
conceiving  a  successicm  of  time .'  how  con- 
ceive a  succession  of  time,  without  conceiv- 
ing that  he  who  is  subject  to  it  acquires  what 
he  had  not  before .'  how  atllrm  that  he  who 
acquires  what  he  had  not  before,  considers  'a 
thousand  years  as  one  day,  and  one  day  as  a 
thousand  years  V  So  many  questions,  so  many 
abysses,  obscurities,  darknesses,  for  poor 
mortals. 

But  if  ye  confine  yourselves  to  a  conviction 
of  the  truth  of  the  words  of  my  text ;  particu- 
larly, if  yc  desire  to  consider  them  in  regard 
to  the  influence  whicli  they  ought  to  have  on 
your  conduct,  ye  will  behold  light  issuing 
from  every  part,  nor  is  there  any  one  in  this 
assembly  who  may  not  approach  it  with  con- 
fidence. This  has  encouraged  us  to  turn  our 
attention  to  a  subject,  whicli  at  first  sight, 
seems  more  likely  to  confound  than  to  edify  us. 

St.  Peter  aims  to  rouse  the  piety  of  Chris- 
tians by  the  idea  of  that  great  day  wherein 
the  world  must  be  reduced  to  ashes ;  when 
the  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth  shall  appear 
to  the  children  of  God.     Libertines  regarded 


56 


THE  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 


[SZR.   II. 


that  day  as  a  diiroera.  '  Where  (said  they)  is 
the  proniieo  of  tho  Lord's  coming :  for  since 
the  fathers  fell  asleep,  all  tilings  continue  as 
they  were  from  the  beginning  ol  the  creation  V 
2  Pet.  iii.  4.  &c.  Tlie  words  of  my  text  are 
an  answer  to  this  objection  ;  an  idea  which 
we  will  presently  explain,  but  which  ye  must; 
at  least  in  a  vague  maimer,  retain  all  along, 
if  ye  mean  to  follow  us  in  this  discourse,  in 
which  we  would  wish  to  include  all  the  dif- 
ferent views  of  the  apostle.  In  order  to 
which  three  things  are  necessary. 

I.  We  will  examine  our  text  in  itself,  and 
endeavour  to  establish  this  proposition,  That 
one  (lay  is  with  the  Lord  as  a  thousand  years, 
and  a  thovsnnd  yrurs  as  one  day. 

II.  We  will  prove  what  we  have  advanced  ; 
that  is,  that  St.  Peter's  design  in  these  words 
was  to  answer  the  objections  of  libertines 
against  the  doctrine  of  the  conflagration  of 
the  world  ;  and  we  will  show  you  that  they 
completely  answer  the  purpose. 

III.  We  will  draw  from  this  doctrine,  secu- 
red against  the  objections  of  libertines,  such 
motives  to  piety  as  the  apostle  presents  us 
with. 

In  considering  these  words  in  this  point  of 
light,  we  will  apply  them  to  your  present  cir- 
cumstances. I'he  renewal  of  the  year,  pro- 
perly understood,  is  only  tlie  anniversary  of 
the  vanity  of  our  life,  and  thence  the  calls  to 
detach  yourselves  from  the  world.  And 
what  can  be  more  proper  to  produce  such  a 
detachment  than  this  reflection,  that  not  only 
the  years  which  we  must  pass  on  earth  are 
consuming,  but  also  that  the  years  of  the 
world's  subsistence  are  already  consumed  in 
part,  and  that  the  time  approaches,  in  which 
it  must  be  delivered  to  the  flames,  and  redu- 
ced to  ashes  ? 

Let  us  first  consider  the  words  of  our  text 
in  themselves,  and  let  us  prove  this  proposi- 
tion, '  one  day  is  witJi  the  Lord  as  a  thousand 
years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day.' 

The  notion  which  I  have  of  God  is  my  prin- 
ciple :  the  words  of  my  text  are  the  conse- 
quence. If  I  establish  the  principle,  the  con- 
sequence will  be  incontestable.  1.  Etcr/iity. — 
2.  Perfect  knoulcdge,  and,  in  some  sort,  the 
sight  and  presence  of  all  that  has  been,  of  all 
that  is,  and  of  all  that  shall  be. — 3.  Supreme 
happiness :  are  three  ideas  which  form  my 
notion  of  the  Deity  :  this  is  my  principle.  '  A 
thousand  years'  tlien  '  are  as  one  daj',  and  one 
day  as  a  thousand  years  with  the  Lord:'  this 
is  my  consequence.  Let  us  prove  the  truth 
of  the  principle,  by  justifying  the  notion 
which  we  form  of  the  Deity. 

L  God  is  an  eternal  being.  This  is  not  a 
chimera  of  my  mind  ;  it  is  a  truth  accompanied 
with  all  the  evidence  of  which  a  proposition 
is  capable,  I  exist,  I  speak,  you  hear  me,  at 
least  you  seem  to  hear  me.  These  are  facts, 
the  certainty  of  which  all  the  philosophers  in 
the  world  can  never  destroy.  I  am  not  able 
to  new-mould  myself,  nor  can  I  help  the  per- 
ception of  truths,  the  knowledge  of  which  (if 
I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so)  is  as  essential  to 
me  as  my  own  existence.  It  does  not  depend 
on  me  not  to  regard  Pyrrho  and  Academus, 
those  famous  defenders  of  doubt  and  uncer- 
tainty, as  fools  who  extinguished  tiie  light  of 
common  aeiise,  or  rather  as  impostors,  wlio 


prononnced  propositions  with  their  months, 
the  falsity  of  which  it  was  impossible  their 
minds  should  not  perceive.  I  repeat  it  again, 
the  most  subtle  objections  of  all  the  philoso- 
phers in  the  world  united,  can  never  diminish 
in  me  that  impression  which  the  perception 
of  my  own  existence  makes  on  my  mind,  nor 
hinder  my  evidence  of  the  truth  of  these  pro- 
positions ;  I  exist,  I  speak,  you  hear  me,  at 
least  (for  with  the  people  wliom  I  oppose,  one 
must  weigh  each  expression,  and,  in  some 
sort,  each  syllable)  at  least  I  have  the  same 
impressions  as  if  there  were  beings  before  my 
eyes  who  heard  me.* 

If  I  am  sure  of  my  own  existence,  I  am  no 
less  sure  that  I  am  not  the  author  of  it  my- 
self, and  that  I  derive  it  from  a  superior  Be- 
ing. Were  I  altogether  ignorant  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  world  ;  if  I  had  never  heard  that  I 
was  only  '  of  yesterday,'  as  the  Psalmist 
speaks,  Psal.  xc.  4  ;  if  I  knew  not  that  my  pa- 
rents, who  were  born  like  me,  are  dead  ;  were 
I  not  assured  that  I  should  soon  die  ;  if  I 
knew  nothing  of  all  this,  yet  I  should  not 
doubt  whether  I  owed  my  existence  to  a  su- 
perior Being.  I  can  never  convince  myself 
that  a  creature  so  feeble  as  I  am,  a  creature 
whose  least  desires  meet  with  insurmounta- 
ble obstacles,  a  creature  who  cannot  add  '  one 
cubit  to  his  stature,'  Matt.  v.  27,  a  creature 
who  cannot  prolong  his  own  life  one  single 
instant,  one  who  is  forced  to  yield,  willing  or 
■unwilling,  to  a  greater  power  which  cries  to 
him,  '  Dust  thou  art,  and  to  dust  thou  shalt 
return,'  Gen.  iii.  19;  I  can  never  convince 
mj'self  that  such  a  creature  existed  from  all 
eternity,  much  less  that  he  owes  his  existence 
only  to  himself,  and  to  the  eminence  of  his 
own  perfections.  It  is  then  sure  that  I  exist : 
it  is  also  certain  that  I  am  not  the  author 
of  my  own  existence. 

This  certainty  is  all  I  ask,  I  ask  only  these 
two  propositions,  I  exist,  I  am  not  the  author 
of  my  own  existence,  to  convince  me  that 
there  is  an  eternal  Being.  Yes,  though  a 
revelation  emanating  from  the  bosom  of  Omni- 
science had  never  given  me  this  idea  of  the 
Divinity  ;  though  Moses  had  never  pronoun- 
ced this  oracle,  '  before  the  mountains  were 
brought  forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst  formed  tho 
earth  and  the  world,  even  from  everlasting 
thou  art  God,'  Psalm  xc.  2 ;  though  the  four 
and  twenty  elders,  who  surround  tLe  throne 
of  God,  had  never  rendered  homage  to  his 
eternity,  or,  prostratmg  before  him,  inces- 
santly cried,  '  We  give  thee  thanks,  Lord  God 
Almighty,  which  art,  and  wast,  and  art  to 
come.  Rev.  xi.  17 ;  though  the  eternal  Being 
had  never  said  of  himself,  '  I  am  Alpha  and 
Omega,  the  first  and  the  last,'  Rev.  i.  8  ;  yea, 
though  the  eternal  Being  had  never  convinced 
me  of  his  grandeur,  by  the  works  of  his  hands, 
if  I  had  been  all  alone  in  the  nature  of  beings, 
I  should  have  been  forced  to  admit  an  eternal 
Being.  And  this  proposition,  'There  is  an 
eternal  Being,'  naturally  flows  from  those,  I 
exist,  and  I  am  not  the  author  of  my  own  ex- 
istence, for  if  I  be  not  the  author  of  my  own 
CKistencc,  I  owe  it  to  another  Being.  That 
Being  to  whom  I  owe  my  existence,  derives 

*  Des  Cartes  reasoned  in  the  same  manner,  and 
made  Kgo  eo^o,  erga  sum,  I  think,  thcrf/ore,  J  am,  the 
first  axiom  of  his  system.  J.  !^. 


S«R.    II.] 


THE  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 


57 


his  from  himself,  or  like  me,  owes  it  to  ano« 
ther.  If  he  exist  of  himself,  behold  the  eter- 
nal Being  whom  I  have  been  seeking  ;  if  lie 
derive  his  existence  from  another,  I  reason 
about  him  as  about  the  former.  Thus  I  ascend, 
thus  I  am  constrained  to  ascend,  till  I  arrive 
at  that  Being  who  exists  of  himself,  and  who 
has  always  so  existed. 

Let  such  of  you,  my  brethren,  as  cannot 
follow  this  reasoning',  blame  only  themselves. 
Let  not  such  people  say,  These  are  abstruse 
and  metaphysical  reflections,  which  should 
never  be  brought  into  these  assemblies.  It 
is  not  fair  that  the  incapacity  of  a  small  num- 
ber, an  incapacity  caused  by  their  voluntary 
attachment  to  sensible  things,  and  (so  to 
speak)  by  their  criminal  interment  in  matter  ; 
it  is  not  right  that  this  should  retard  the  edi- 
fication of  a  whole  people,  and  prevent  the 
proposing  of  the  first  principles  of  natural 
religion.  Eternity  enters  then  into  the  idea 
of  the  creative  Being ;  and  this  is  what  wo 
proposed  to  prove. 

2.  '  Omniscience,  intimate  acquaintance, 
and,  in  a  manner,  the  presence  of  all  that  is, 
of  all  that  has  been,  of  all  that  shall  be,'  is 
the  second  idea  which  we  form  of  the  Deity. 
The  more  we  meditate  on  the  essence  and 
Belf-existence  of  the  eternal  Being,  the  more 
are  we  convinced  that  omniscience  necessa- 
rily belongs  to  eternity :  so  that  to  have 
proved  that  God  possesses  the  first  of  these 
attributes,  is  to  have  proved  that  he  possess- 
es the  second.  But,  as  I  am  certain,  that  a 
great  number  of  my  hearers  would  charge 
those  reflections  with  obscurity,  of  which  they 
are  ignorant  only  through  their  own  inatten- 
tion, I  will  not  undertake  to  prove,  by  a 
chain  of  propositions,  that  the  eternal  Being 
knows  all  things :  tliat,  as  author  of  all, 
he  knows  the  nature  of  all ;  that,  knowing 
the  nature  of  all,  he  knows  what  must  result 
from  all.  It  will  be  better  to  give  you  this  sub- 
ject ready  digested  in  our  Holy  Scriptures, 
than  to  oblige  you  to  collect  it  by  your  own 
meditation.  Recall  then  on  this  article  these 
expressions  of  the  sacred  writers:  '  O  Lord, 
thou  knowest  all  things,'  John  xxi.  17. — 
'  The  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and 
desperately  wicked,  who  can  know  it .'  I  the 
Lord  search  the  heart  and  try  the  reins,' 
Jer.  xvii.  9,  10. — Known  unto  him  are  all  his 
works  from  the  beginning,'  Acts  xv.  18. — 
The  word  of  God  is  quick  and  powerful,  and 
sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword,  piercing 
even  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  the  soul 
and  spirit,  and  of  the  joints  and  marrow,  and 
is  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of 
the  heart.  Neither  is  there  any  creature  that 
is  not  manifest  in  his  sight,  Heb.  iv.  12,  &c. 
Some  interpreters  think,  that  by  the  icurd  of 
God,  we  must  understand  here,  not  the  gos- 
pel of  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  phrase  is  gener- 
ally understood,  but  his  person.  If  this  be 
St.  Paul's  idea,  he  uses,  methinks,  the  same 
metaphysical  reasoning  which  we  have  pro- 
posed :  that  is,  that  he  who  created  all,  knows 
all.  Observe  how  this  reasoning  is  followed 
and  developed  in  the  apostle's  words.  The 
Word  of  God,  or,  as  it  is  in  the  Greek,  the 
Logos,  the  Word  of  God  is  quick  and  power- 
ful; that  is  to  say,  that  as  Jesus  Christ,  as 


God,  has  a  fund  of  life  and  existence,  he 
has  also  freely  and  effectually  communicated 
life  and  existence  to  others.  In  this  sense  it 
is  elsewhere  said,  that  '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  principal- 
ities, or  powers,'  Col.  i.  16.  And  in  St. 
John's  Gospel,  '  In  the  beginning  was  the 
Word,  and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the 
Word  was  God.  All  things  were  made  by 
him,  and  without  him  was  not  any  thing 
made  that  was  made,'  John  i.  1.  3.  But 
this  Word,  quick  and  powerful,  who  has 
given  being  to  all,  perfectly  knows  all ; 
sharper  than  any  two  edged  sword,  piercing 
even  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  soul  and 
spirit,  and  of  the  joints  and  marrow,  and  is 
a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of 
the  heart ;  neither  is  there  any  creature  that 
is  not  manifest  in  his  sight,  but  all  things  are 
naked  and  opened  unto  the  eyes  of  him  with 
whom  we  have  to  do.'  Omniscience,  inti- 
mate knowledge,  and,  as  I  said  before,  the 
presence  of  all  that  is,  of  all  that  was,  of  all 
that  shall  be,  are  as  essential  to  God  as  eter- 
nity. This  also,  we  hope,  is  sufl[iciently 
proved. 

3.  Supreme  felicity  is  the  third  idea  which 
we  have  formed  of  God  ;  it  flows  immediate- 
ly from  the  two  first.  Every  intelhgent  be- 
ing is  capable  of  happiness,  nor  can  he  re- 
gard happiness  with  indifference  ;  he  is  in- 
clined by  his  very  nature  to  render  himself 
happy.  He  cannot  love  misery  as  misery; 
he  never  suffers  a  present  misery  but  in 
hopes  of  a  future  pleasure  ;  or  else  he  sup- 
ports a  misery  because  it  appears  to  him  more 
tolerable  than  the  means  proposed  to  deliver 
him.  Even  those  who  have  wilfully  plunged 
themselves  into  the  gulfs  of  hell,  in  a  fit  of 
black  melancholy,  would  not  have  taken  that 
dreadful  step,  had  they  not  revolved  this  me- 
lancholy imagination  in  their  distracted 
minds,  that  the  assurance  of  being  plunged 
into  hell  is  less  tolerable  than  hell  itself.  It 
implies  a  contradiction,  that  an  intelligent 
being,  capable  of  being  happy  or  miserable, 
should  be  indiff'erent  to  his  own  happiness  or 
misery.  If  any  thing  be  wanting  to  the  fe- 
licity of  God,  the  defect  must  not  be  attri- 
buted to  his  will,  the  cause  must  be  souo-ht 
in  his  weakness,  that  is,  in  his  want  of  power. 

But  who  can  conceive  that  a  Being  who 
existed  from  all  eternity,  who  gave  existence 
to  all  things,  and  who  knows  all  things,  has 
only  a  finite  and  limited  power .''  I  am  well 
aware  of  the  difficulty  of  following  the  at- 
tributes of  the  Deity,  and  that,  in  the  great- 
est part  of  our  reasonings  on  this  grand  sub- 
ject, we  suppose  what  ought  to  be  proved. 
But  as  far  as  we  are  capable  of  penetrating 
this  profound  subject,  we  have  grounds  for 
reasoning  in  this  manner  :  God  has  given 
being  to  all  things,  and  he  saw  what  must 
result  from  them  ;  it  depended  then  entirely 
on  him  to  form  the  plan  of  the  world  or  not 
to  form  it ;  to  be  alone  or  to  impart  exist- 
ence :  it  depended  on  him  to  form  the  plan 
of  such  a  world  as  we  see,  or  to  form  ano- 
ther plan.  He  has  followed,  in  the  choice 
which  he   has  made,  that  which  was  most 


58 


THE  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 


[Seb.  II. 


E roper  for  his  own  glory.  If,  to  these  fee- 
le  speculations,  we  join  the  infallible  testi- 
mony of  revelation,  we  shall  find  a  perfect 
agreement  with  our  ideas  on  this  article ; 
that  the  Creator  is  the  happy  God  by  excel- 
lence, 1  Tim.  i.  41,*  and  that  because  he  is 
eternal  and  omniscient,  he  must  for  those 
very  reasons  be  infinitely  happy.  This  arti- 
cle also  is  sufficiently  proved. 

These  three  ideas  of  the  Deity  are  three 
sources  of  proofs,  in  favour  of  St.  Peter's 
proposition  in  the  words  of  my  text, '  a  thou- 
sand years  before  the  Lord  are  as  one  day, 
and  one  day  as  a  thousand  years.' 

God  is  an  eternal  Being.  'Then  '  a  thousand 
years  with  him  are  as  one  day,  and  one  day 
as  a  thousand  years  ;'  that  is  to  say,  '  a  thou- 
sand years  and  one  day'  are  such  inconsider- 
able measures  of  duration,  that,  whatever 
disproportion  they  have  to  each  other,  they 
appear  to  have  none  when  compared  with 
the  duration  of  eternity.  There  is  a  great 
difference  between  one  drop  of  water  and 
twenty  tliousand  baths  which  were  contained 
in  that  famous  vessel  in  Solomon's  temple, 
wliich,  on  account  of  its  matter  and  capacity, 
was  called  the  sea  of  brass,  1  Chron.  xviii. 
8 ;  but  this  vessel  itself,  in  comparison  of 
the  sea,  properly  so  called,  was  so  small, 
that  when  we  compare  all  it  could  contain, 
with  the  sea,  the  twenty  thousand  baths, 
that  is,  one  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
pounds  weight,  appear  only  as  a  drop  of  wa- 
ter. The  extreme  difference  between  tliat 
quantity  of  water  and  a  little  drop  vanishes 
when  compared  with  the  ocean.  One  drop 
of  water  with  the  sea  is  as  twenty  thousand 
baths,  and  twenty  thousand  baths  are  as  one 
drop  of  water.  There  is  a  great  difference 
between  the  light  of  a  taper  and  tliat  of  a 
flambeau;  but  expose  both  to  the  light  of 
the  sun,  and  their  difference  will  be  imper- 
ceptible. The  light  of  a  little  taper  before 
the  sun  is  as  the  light  of  a  flambeau,  and  the 
light  of  a  flambeau  as  that  of  a  little  taper. 
In  like  manner,  eternal  duration  is  so  great 
an  object,  that  it  causes  every  thing  to  dis- 
appear that  can  be  compared  with  it.  A 
thousand  years  are  no  more  before  this  than 
one  day,  nor  one  day  than  a  thousand  years; 
and  these  two  terms,  so  unequal  in  them- 
selves, seem  to  have  a  perfect  equality  when 
compared  with  eternity.  We,  minute  crea- 
tures, we  consider  a  day,  an  hour,  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  as  a  very  little  space  in  the 
course  of  our  lives ;  we  lose  witliout  scru- 
ple a  day,  an  hour,  a  quarter  of  an  hour : 
but  we  are  very  much  to  blame  ;  for  this  day, 
this  hour,  this  quarter  of  an  hour,  should 
we  even  live  a  whole  age,  would  be  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  our  life.  But,  if  we  at- 
tend to  the  little  probability  of  our  living  a 
whole  age;  if  we  reflect  that  this  little  space 
of  time,  of  which  we  are  so  profuse,  is  the 
only  space  we  can  call  our  own  ;  if  we  seri- 
ously think  that  one  quarter  of  an  hour,  that 
one  hour,  that  one  day,  is  perhaps  the  only 

*  1  Tim.  i.  11.  bicnheurtiiz  dieu,  (Uaxa^/ic  ©sic. 
;fX*KUg^toc,  quasi  /uiyet.  ^duguv,  id  est,  mullum  ct  valde 
gaudcns  .-  bealus  J)eus,  que  sibi  siifficicns  crat  ad  bcati- 
hulinem.  Vide  Nov.  Teat.  GriEC.  cum  notis,  Lon- 
dlni,  17G8. 


time  given  us  to  prepare  our  accounts,  and  to 
decide  our  eternal  destiny ;  we  should  have 
reason  to  acknowledge,  that  it  was  madness  i 

to  lose  tlie  least  part  of  so  short  a  life.  But 
God  revolves  (if  I  may  venture  to  say  so) 
in  the  immense  space  of  eternity.  Heap 
millions  of  ages  upon  millions  of  ages,  add 
new  millions  to  new  millions,  all  this  is  no- 
thing in  comparison  of  the  duration  of  the 
eternal  Being.  In  this  sense,  '  a  thousand 
years  are  as  one  day,  and  one  day  as  a  thou- 
sand years.' 

2.  God  knows  all.  Then,  '  a  thousand 
years  are  with  him  as  one  day,  and  one  day 
as  a  thousand  years ;'  because  he  sees  no 
more  in  a  thousand  years  than  in  one  day;  be- 
cause he  sees  as  much  in  one  day  as  he  can 
see  in  a  thousand  years.  Ignorance  and  un- 
certainty are  the  principal  causes  that  make 
us  think  a  short  space  of  time  a  long  dura- 
tion ;  especially,  when  our  ignorance  and  un- 
certainty respect  things  which  we  ardently 
desire  to  know  :  '  Hope  deferred  maketh  the 
heart  sick,'  Prov.  xiii.  12,  is  a  saying  of  the 
wise  man.  The  very  time  in  which  we  are 
in  suspense  about  an  apprehended  evil,  is  in- 
supportable to  us.  It  seems  to  us,  while  we 
expect  a  fatal  sentence,  that  we  are  every 
moment  suffering  its  execution. 

God  knows  all.  He  sees  all  that  was,  all 
that  is,  all  that  ever  will  be.  The  moment 
which  he  assigned  for  the  formation  of  thia 
universe,  is  as  present  to  his  mind  as  that 
which  he  has  determined  for  its  destruction. 
He  knows  the  success  of  the  various  plans 
which  at  present  exercise  the  speculations  of 
the  greatest  geniuses,  and  which  occasion  an 
infinite  number  of  different  opinions  among 
politicians.  He  knows  to  what  lengths  that 
tyrant,  who  is  the  scourge  of  the  whole  earth, 
shall  carry  his  rage.  He  knows  how  long 
that  empire  shall  maintain  its  dignity,  which 
at  present  subsists  with  so  much  glory.  He 
knows  during  what  space  Antichrist  shall 
yet  oppose  the  dominion  of  the  king  Mes- 
siah ;  and  when  the  king  Messiah  shall  make 
him  lick  the  dust.  He  knows  when  the  air 
shall  resound  with  that  comfortable  exclama- 
tion, '  Babylon  the  great  is  fallen,  is  fallen, 
and  is  become  the  habitation  of  devils,  and 
the  hold  of  every  foul  spirit  I'    Rev.  xviii.  2. 

3.  In  fine,  God  is  supremely  happy.  Then, 
'  a  tliousand  years  with  him  are  as  one  day, 
and  one  day  as  a  thousand  years.'  In  the  en- 
joyment of  perfect  happiness,  the  duration  of 
time  is  im])erceptible.  Placed,  as  we  are, 
my  dearest  brethren,  in  this  valley  of  mise- 
ries, tasting  only  imperfect  and  embittered 
pleasures,  it  is  very  difficult  for  us  to  con- 
ceive the  impression  whicli  felicity  makes  on 
an  intelligence  supremely  happy.  If  the  en- 
joyment of  some  small  good  makes  us  con- 
ceive, to  a  certain  degree,  a  state  in  which 
ages  appear  moments,  the  miseries  insepara- 
rablc  from  our  lives  presently  replunge  us  in- 
to a  state  in  which  moments  appear  ages ;  in 
which  sorrows  of  the  body,  and  sorrows  of 
the  mind,  frequently  less  tolerable  than  those 
of  the  body,  so  powerfully  apply  our  minds 
to  each  indivisible  space  of  time  spent  in  pain, 
that  we  think  our  sufferings  liave  been  long, 
when  wc  have  scarcely  begun  to  suffer.    But 


Ser.  II.] 


THE  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 


69 


God  is  always  happy,  and  always  supremely 
happy;  he  always  enjoys  that  perfect  felicity, 
which  makes  a  thousand  years,  ten  thousand 
milhons  of  years,  vanish  with  an  inconceiva- 
ble rapidity.  It  would  be  unhappy  not  to  en- 
joy this  kind  of  felicity  more  than  ten  or 
twelve  millions  of  years,  because  the  impres- 
sion which  that  felicity  would  make  on  tiie 
soul  would  be  so  powerful  and  lively,  that  it 
would  render  him  who  enjoyed  it  insensible 
to  time;  time  would  expire,  and  he  would 
hardly  perceive  that  he  had  enjoyed  any  thing, 
even  when  he  had  possessed  happiness  as  long 
as  I  have  supposed.  God  would  be  unhappy 
(allow  me  this  expression)  if  his  felicity  were 
not  eternal.  But  this  is  one  of  the  subjects 
which  must  intimidate  a  preacher  through 
the  difficulty  he  meets  with  in  furnishing 
matter.  We  must  have  ideas  beyond  human. 
We  must  have  terms  which  mankind  have 
not  yet  invented.  We  ourselves  must  have 
participated  the  felicity  of  God  ;  we  must 
Bpeak  to  men  who  also  had  partaken  of  it ; 
and  afterwards,  we  must  have  agreed  toge- 
ther on  a  new  language  to  express  each  idea 
excited  by  the  happiness,  of  which  we  had 
made  so  blessed  an  experience.  Represent 
to  yourselves  a  Being,  or  rather  think,  think, 
my  dear  hearers,  on  the  difficulty  of  repre- 
senting a  Being,  who,  having  in  the  prodi- 
gious capacity  of  his  intelligence  all  possible 
plans  of  this  universe,  has  preferred  that 
which  appeared  to  him  the  wisest,  the  best, 
the  most  conformable  to  the  holiness  of  his 
attributes ;  represent  a  Being  who  has  exe- 
cuted this  plan,  a  Being  who  has  created  in 
this  vast  extent  which  our  imagination  fan- 
cies, in  that  which  our  whole  mind,  more 
capable  still  of  conceiving  grand  objects  than 
our  imagination  alone,  or  our  senses  admire  ; 
represent  to  yourselves  a  Being  who  has  cre- 
ated whatever  is  most  capable  of  contribut- 
ing to  perfect  felicity ;  represent  a  Being 
who  loves,  and  who  is  beloved  by  objects 
worthy  of  his  love  ;  a  Being  who  knows  how 
to  repress  the  madness  of  those  who  rebel 
against  his  empire  ;  a  Being  who  shares  his 
felicity  with  spirits,  whom  he  esteems,  and 
by  whom  he  is  esteemed  above  all  things  ;  a 
Being  who  has  the  pleasure  of  rendering 
the  objects  of  his  esteem  happy,  and  wlio 
acknowledge  that  all  their  happiness  comes 

from  him  ; spirits  who  continually  praise 

the  author  of  their  felicity,  and  who,  casting 
their  crowns  at  his  feet,  incessantly  cry, 
Holy,  holy,  holy,  Lord  of  hosts ;  the  whole 
earth  is  full  of  thy  glory,'  Tsa.  vi.  3 :  repre- 
sent to  yourselves  a  Being  who  is  approved 
by  intelligences  skilful  in  virtues,  in  gran- 
deurs, in  objects  worthy  of  praise  ;  a  Being 
who  loves  only  order,  and  who  has  power  to 
maintain  it ;  a  Being  who  is  at  the  summit 
of  felicity,  and  who  knows  that  he  shall  be  so 
for  ever.  O  ages  !  O  millions  of  ages  !  O 
thousands  of  millions  of  ages  !  O  duration, 
the  longest  that  can  be  imagined  by  an  in- 
telligence composed  (if  I  may  speak  so)  of  all 
intelligences,  how  short  must  ye  appear  to 
so  happy  a  JBeing  !  There  is  no  time  with 
him  ;  there  is  no  measure  of  time.  One  thou- 
sand years,  ten  thousand  years,  one  quarter 


of  an  hour,  one  instant,  is  almost  the  same. 
'  A  thousand  years  are  with  him  as  one  day, 
and  one  day.as  a  thousand  years.' 

We  have  considered  our  text  in  itself; 
we  will  now  show  tlie  end  of  the  apostle  in 
proposing  it,  and  that  it  was  very  proper  to 
answer  that  end.     This  is  our  second  part. 

St.  Peter,  as  we  said  before,  St.  Peter 
meant  to  refute  the  odious  objections  of  somo 
profane  persons  of  his  own  time,  who  pre- 
tended to  make  the  doctrine  of  a  universal 
judgment  doubtful,  and  who  said,  in  order  to 
obscure  its  truth,  or  enervate  its  evidence, 
'  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming,  for 
since  the  fathers  fell  asleep  all  things  remain 
as  they  were  .''  2  Pet.  iii.  4.  I  am  aware 
that  this  comment  is  disputed,  and  some  have 
thought  that  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem 
was  the  subject  of  this  whole  chapter,  and 
not  the  end  of  the  world  ;  but,  however 
averse  we  are  to  the  decisive  tone,  we  will 
venture  to  demonstrate  that  the  apostle  had 
far  greater  objects  in  view  than  the  fatal  ca- 
tastrophes of  the  Jewish  nation.  This  I  think 
clearly  appears, 

1.  By  the  nature  of  the  objection  which 
libertines  made.  'Where  is  the  promise  of 
his  coming,  for  since  the  fathers  fell  asleep 
all  things  remain  as  they  were  .="  These  liber- 
tines did  not  mean  that  from  the  beginning  of 
the  world  the  commonwealth  of  Israel  had 
suffered  no  considerable  alteration  ;  they  did 
not  mean  from  that  false  principle  to  draw 
tliis  false  consequence,  that  Jerusalem  would 
always  remain  as  it  then  was.  How  could 
they  be  such  novices  in  the  history  of  their 
nation,  as  not  to  know  the  sad  vicissitudes, 
the  banishments  and  the  plunderings,  which 
the  Jews  had  undergone  ?  They  meant,  that 
though  some  particular  changes  had  happened 
in  some  parts  of  the  world,  "the  generahty  of 
creatures  had  always  remained  in  the  same 
state  ;  thence  they  pretended  to  conclude  that 
they  would  always  remain  so. 

This  appears  further  by  the  manner  in 
which  the  apostle  answers  them  in  the  verses 
preceding  the  text.  He  alleges  against  them 
the  example  of  the  deluge.  '  This,'  says  he, 
'  they  are  willingly  ignorant  of,  that  tke 
world  that  then  was,  being  overflowed  with 
water,  perished,'  vcr.  5,  C.  To  this  he  adds, 
'  the  heavens  shall  pass  away  with  a  great 
noise,  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent 
heat,  the  earth  also  and  the  things  that  are 
therein  shall  be  burnt  up,'  ver.  10.  On  which 
we  reason  thus  :  The  world  that  was  formerly 
destroyed  with  water,  is  the  same  which  shall 
be  destroyed  by  fire  ;  but  the  world  that  wa» 
destroyed  with  water,  was  not  the  Jewish 
nation  only :  St.  Peter  then  predicts  a  de- 
struction more  general  than  that  of  the  Jews. 

3.  This  appears  further  by  this  considera- 
tion. The  people  to  whom  St.  Peter  wrote 
did  not  live  in  Judea,  but  were  dispersed 
through  Pontus,  Galatia,  Cappadocia,  Asia, 
and  Bithynia.  These  people  could  have  but 
little  to  do  with  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem. 
Whether  Jesus  Christ  terminated  the  dura- 
tion of  that  city  suddenly  or  slowly,  was  a 
question  that  regarded  tlicm  indirectly  only ; 
but  the  day  of  which  St.  Peter  sjieaks,  inter- 


oo 


THE  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  n. 


ests  an  Christians,  and  St.  Peter  exliorts  all 
Christians  to  prepare  for  it,  as  being  person- 
ally concerned  in  it. 

4.  Add  a  fourth  consideration,  taken  from 
what  follows  our  text,  ver.  15,  16.  '  Even  as 
our  beloved  brother  Paul  also  speaks  of  these 
things,  in  which  are  some  things  hard  to  be 
tinderstood,  which  they  that  are  unlearned  and 
unstable,  wrest  unto  their  own  destruction.' 
What  are  these  things  hard  to  he  understood  ? 
Many  interpreters,  ancient  and  modern,  have 
thought  that  the  doctrine  of  justification  was 
intended ;  a  doctrine  established  by  St  Paul, 
and  wrested  by  many  to  their  own  destruc- 
tion, as  from  thence  they  concluded  that  good 
works  were  useless.  But,  I  think,  it  is  more 
probable  that  St.  Peter  designs  some  parts  of 
the  First  Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians,  where 
the  apostle  had  spoken  as  if  the  day  of  judg- 
ment was  very  nigh,  1  Thess.  iv.  13,  &c.  and 
in  V.  1.  &.C.  and  from  which  many  concluded, 
that  it  would  immediately  appear,  and  the 
mistake  caused  a  general  subversion  of  so- 
ciety. Since  then,  St.  Paul  had  spoken  of 
the  day  of  judgment,  and  St.  Peter  speaks  of 
the  same  things,  it  follows,  that  St.  Peter  de- 
signed to  establish  the  truth  of  a  general 
judgment,  against  those  infidels  who  had  en- 
deavoured to  subvert  it. 

But  how  is  what  the  apostle  says,  '  one  day 
is  with  the  Lord  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a 
thousand  years  as  one  day ;'  how  is  such  a 
proposition  proper  to  refute  the  odious  objec- 
tion of  infidels,  who  said,  '  Where  is  the  pro- 
mise of  his  coming  .''  If  a  man  who  possesses 
great  riches,  promise  a  small  sum  to  an  indi- 
gent person,  if  he  defer  the  fulfilment  of  his 
promise,  in  vain  ye  endeavour  to  e.xculpate 
him  by  saying,  the  promiser  is  so  opulent  that 
a  small  sum  with  him  is  as  great  riches,  and 
great  riches  are  as  a  small  sura. 

In  like  manner,  to  say  that  '  a  thousand 
years  with  God  are  as  one  day,  and  one  day 
as  a  thousand  years,'  is  tha't  to  answer  the 
objection .'  The  question  is  not  what  the  time 
of  delay  is  to  the  eternal  Being  ;  the  question 
is,  what  that  time  is  to  poor  mortals,  who  are 
confined  to  the  earth,  loaded  with  miseries, 
and  to  whom  one  day  is  as  a  thousand  years, 
and  not  a  thousand  years  as  one  day. 

This  difficulty  is  solved  by  the  connexion 
©four  text  with  the  following  verses:  'Be- 
loved, be  not  ignorant  of  this  one  thing,  that 
one  day  is  with  the  Lord  as  a  thousand  3'ears, 
and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day.  The  Lord 
is  not  slack  concerning  his  promise,  as  some 
men  count  slackness,  but  is  long-suffering  to 
•usward,  not  willing  that  any  should  perish, 
but  that  all  should  come  to  repentance.'  This 
answer  is  conclusive,  as  ye  will  more  fully 
perceive  by  the  following  paraphrase.  The 
delay  of  the  day  of  judgment  may  be  consid- 
ered either  in  relation  to  men  who  must  be 
judged,  or  to  God  himself  who  will  judge 
them.  If  ye  consider  it  in  regard  to  men 
who  must  be  judged,  they  have  no  room  to 
complain  that  God  defers  this  important  pe- 
riod ;  on  the  contrary,  they  ought  to  consider 
the  pretended  slackness  of  which  they  com- 
plain, as  an  effect  of  the  adorable  love  of  their 
judge,  who  invites  them  to  conversion.  The 
manner  in  which  God  ordinarily  takes  men 


out  of  this  life,  is  much  more  proper  to  In- 
cline them  to  conversion  than  the  terrible 
retinue  of  his  coming  to  judgment.  How  ter- 
rible will  his  appearance  be  !  What  eye  will 
not  be  dazzled .''  Whose  conscience  will  not 
be  alarmed .'  Here  blow  the  trumpets,  the 
dreadful  sounds  of  which  proclaim  the  ap- 
proach of  the  Judge  of  this  universe.  There, 
the  heavens,  which  once  opened  to  receive 
the  Son  of  God,  open  again  that  he  may  re- 
turn to  the  earth,  to  execute  his  threateninga 
on  rebellious  men.  Here,  earth  and  sea  re- 
store the  bodies  which  they  have  devoured. 
There,  those  thousand  thousands,  those  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousa/id,  who  are  contin- 
ually before  God,  Dan.  vii.  10,  offer  their  min- 
istry to  him,  and  are  the  witnesses,  admirers, 
and  executors  of  his  judgment.  Here,  open 
the  eternal  books,  in  which  so  many  unright- 
eous thoughts,  so  many  unprofitable  words, 
so  many  criminal  actions,  have  been  register- 
ed. There,  sentences  are  preparing,  desti- 
nies determining,  final  decrees  just  pronounc- 
ing. Who  then  could  have  presence  of  mind 
enough  to  recur  to  genuine  repentance,  even 
supposing  there  were  yet  time  for  repent- 
ance .''  Men  then  have  no  reason  to  complain 
that  the  day  of  judgment  is  not  yet  come, 
'  The  Lord  is  patient  towards  all  men,  not 
willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all 
should  come  to  repentance.' 

If  ye  consider  the  pretended  delay  of  judg- 
ment in  regard  to  God,  as  ye  have  considered 
it  in  regard  to  men,  ye  will  readily  acknow- 
ledge, that  what  appears  delay  to  you,  does 
not  appear  so  to  him.  Why .'  Because  '  a 
thousand  years  are  with  him  as  one  day,  and 
one  day  as  a  thousand  years ;'  because  thia 
long  term  that  offends  you  is  but  as  an  instant 
to  the  perfect  Being. 

It  seems  to  me  that  this  reasoning  is  con- 
clusive. This  shall  suffice  for  the  present. 
Let  us  conclude,  and  let  us  employ  the  few 
moments  which  remain,  to  infer  from  the 
doctrine  of  the  general  conflagration,  secured 
against  the  objections  of  libertines,  such  mo- 
tives to  piety  as  the  apostle  intended  we 
should  draw  from  them.  '  Beloved,  be  not  ig- 
norant of  this  one  thing,  that  one  day  is  with 
the  Lord  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand 
years  as  one  day.  The  Lord  is  not  slack  con- 
cerning his  promise,  as  some  'men  count 
slackness,  but  is  long-suffering  to  usward,  not 
willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all 
should  come  to  repentance.  But  the  day  of 
the  Lord  will  come  as  a  thief  in  the  night ;  in 
the  which  the  heavens  shall  pass  away  with  a 
great  noise,  and  the  elements  shall  melt  with 
fervent  heat ;  the  earth  also  and  the  works 
that  are  therein  shall  be  burnt  up.'  This  is 
the  doctrine  that  the  apostle  establishes. 
*  Seeing  then  that  all  these  things  shall  be 
dissolved,  what  manner  of  persons  ought  ye 
to  be  in  all  holy  conversation  and  godliness, 
looking  for  and  hasting  unto  the  coming  of 
the  day  of  God  ?'  This  is  the  consequence 
which  he  deduces ;  the  justness  of  which  in- 
ference will  appear  by  five  descriptions,  which 
the  general  conflagration  traces  before  your 
eyes :  1.  A  description  of  the  power  of  out 
Judge.  2.  A  description  of  the  horrors  of 
vice.    3.  A  description  of  the  vanity  of  the 


Ser.  II.] 


THE  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 


61 


present  world.  4.  A  description  of  the  beau- 
ties of  tlie  world  to  come.  5.  A  description 
of  the  excellence  of  piety.  This  is  the  third 
part,  and  the  conclusion  of  this  discourse. 

1.  The  destruction  of  the  universe  affords 
us  a  picture  of  the  power  of  our  Judge.  How 
powerful,  my  brethren,  is  this  Judge  !  '  Who 
can  resist  his  will .-"  Rom.  ix.  19.  Once  there 
was  no  sea,  no  earth,  no  firmament ;  one 
frightful  night  covered  the  whole  face  of  the 
universe.  He  said  (Gen.  i.  3),  and  all  these 
beings  appeared  :  now  we  behold  a  sea,  an 
earth,  and  a  firmament.  He  will  say,  and  the 
sea  shall  be  dry,  and  the  earth  shall  be  con- 
sumed, the  stars  shall  disappear,  the  firma- 
ment shall  be  found  no  more.  Such  is  the 
God  whom  the  sinner  attacks.  A  God  '  who 
taketh  up  the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing,'  Isa. 
xl.  15.  A  God  who  '  removeth  the  mountains 
and  overturneth  them  in  his  anger,  who  sha- 
keth  the  earth  out  of  her  place,  and  the  pil- 
lars thereof  tremble.  A  God,  who  command- 
eth  the  sun  and  it  riseth  not,  and  sealeth  up 
the  stars  ;  who  doth  great  things  past  finding 
out,  yea,  and  wonders  without  number,'  Job 
ix.  5— -7.  10.  This,  sinner,  is  the  God  whom 
thou  attackest.  But  doth  the  idea  of  a  God 
so  powerful  never  excite  terror  in  thy  rebel- 
lious soul .'  *  Do  we  provoke  the  Lord  to  jeal- 
ousy .''  1  Cor.  X.  22  :  are  we  stronger  than  he  ? 
— '  Who  hath  hardened  himself  against  him, 
and  hath  prospered  ? — Can  any  resist  my 
power  .'"  Job.  ix.  4.  '  Who  would  set  the  thorns 
and  briars  against  me  in  battle  ?  I  would  go 
through  them,  I  would  burn  them  together. 
O  let  them  make  peace  with  me,  and  they 
shall  make  peace  with  me,'  Isa.  xxvii.  4,  5. 

2.  The  conflagration  of  the  universe  affords 
us  a  picture  of  the  horrors  of  vice.  Behold 
how  far  God  carries  his  resentment  against 
sin.  It  is  not  enough  to  condemn  to  eternal 
flames,  and  to  confine  in  chains  of  darkness, 
those  who  have  fled  from  his  justice.  It  is 
not  enough  to  pour  out  his  wrath  upon  those 
who  have  committed  the  crime,  he  detests 
even  the  instruments  of  the  crime  ;  he  de- 
signs that  all  things  that  have  served  sin 
shall  bear  the  marks  of  his  anger.  If,  under 
the  law,  a  man  had  defiled  himself  with  a 
beast,  he  must  die  with  the  brutal  object  of 
his  passion.  Lev.  xx.  15,  IG.  Thus  God  not 
content  to  punish  the  avaricious  with  un- 
quenchable fire,  will  destroy  even  objects  of 
avarice,  and  dissolve  the  gold  and  silver 
with  which  the  miser  committed  idolatry. 
Not  content  to  punish  the  ambitious,  he  will 
destroy  even  the  instruments  of  ambition,  and 
overturn  those  thrones  and  palaces  which 
have  caused  it.  Not  content  to  punish  the 
voluptuous,  he  will  destroy  even  objects  of 
voluptuousness,  and  consume  the  heavens, 
the  earth,  and  the  elements,  which  have  af- 
forded matter  for  concupiscence.  Heavens, 
earth,  elements,  are  ye  guilty  .'  But  if  ye  be 
treated  with  so  nmch  rigour  for  having  been 
the  unconscious  instruments  of  tlic  crime, 
what  must  the  condition  of  the  criminal  be  .' 

3.  In  tjie  burning  of  the  universe  we  find  a 
representation  of  the  vanity  of  the  j)resent 
world.  What  is  this  world  which  fiiscinates 
our  eyes  ?  It  is  a  funeral  pile  tliat  already 
begins  to  burn,  and  will  soon  be  entirely  con- 


sumed ;  it  is  a  world  which  must  end,  and  all 
that  must  end  is  far  inferior  to  an  immortal 
soul.  The  thought  of  death  is  already  a  pow- 
erful motive  to  us  to  place  our  affections  on 
another  world  ;  for  what  is  death  .''  it  is  to 
every  individual  what,  one  day,  the  final  ruin 
will  be  to  the  generality  of  mankind  ;  it  is 
the  destruction  of  the  heavens,  which  jxiss 
awaij  with  a  great  noise  ;  it  is  the  dissolution 
of  elements  ;  it  is  the  entire  conflagration  of 
the  world,  and  of  the  works  which  are  there- 
in. Yet  vanity  has  invented  refuges  against 
this  storm.  The  hope  of  an  imaginary  im- 
mortality has  been  able  to  support  some  men 
against  the  fear  of  a  real  death.  The  idea  of 
existing  in  the  minds  of  those  who  exist  after 
them,  has,  in  some  sort,  comforted  them  un- 
der the  miserable  thought  of  being  no  more. 
Hence  pompous  buildings,  and  stately  edifices; 
hence  rich  monuments,  and  superb  mausole- 
ums ;  hence  proud  inscriptions  and  vain-glo- 
rious titles,  inscribed  on  marble  and  brass. 
But  behold  the  dissolution  of  all  those  bonds. 
The  destruction  of  the  world  deprives  us  of 
our  imaginary  being,  as  death  deprives  us  of 
our  real  existence.  Ye  will  not  only  be  short- 
ly stretched  in  your  tombs,  and  cease  to  use 
the  houses,  and  fields,  and  palaces,  which  ye 
inhabit ;  but  these  houses,  these  palaces,  these 
fields,  will  be  consumed,  and  the  memory  of 
all  that  is  fastened  to  the  world  will  vanish 
with  the  world.  Since,  tiien,  this  is  the  con- 
dition of  all  sensible  things,  since  all  these 
sensible  things  must  perish  ;  immortal  man, 
infinite  spirit,  eternal  soul,  dost  thou  fasten 
thyself  to  vanity  and  instability  ?  Dost  thou 
not  seek  for  a  good  more  suitable  to  thy  na- 
ture and  duration  .'  '  Seeing  all  these  things 
must  be  dissolved,  what  manner  of  persons 
ought  ye  to  be  in  all  holy  conversation  and 
godliness  ?' 

4.  The  conflagration  of  the  universe  fur- 
nishes a  description  of  the  world  to  come.  Ye 
often  hear  us  declaim  on  the  nothingness  of 
earthly  things  ;  we  frequently  diminish  the 
worth  of  all  that  is  great  and  glorious  ;  we 
frequentl}'  cry  with  Solomon,  '  Vanity  of  va- 
nities, all  is  vanity  ,'  vanity  in  pleasures,  va- 
nity in  grandeurs,  vanitj'^  in  riches,  vanity  in 
sciences,  vanit)^  in  all.  But  yet,  my  brethren, 
how  substantial  would  this  vanity  be,  how 
amiable  would  this  nothingness  appear,  if  by 
a  happy  assemblage  of  all  tiiat  the  world  has 
of  the  beautiful,  we  could  acquire  the  reality 
of  a  life,  of  which  it  is  easy  to  form  to  one's 
self  the  idea!  Could  I  extract  the  choicest 
dignities  and  fortunes  ;  could  I  inhabit  the 
most  temperate  clime,  and  the  most  pleasant 
country  ;  could  I  choose  the  most  benevolent 
hearts,  and  the  wisest  minds  ;  could  I  take 
the  most  happy  temper,  and  the  most  sublime 
genius  ;  could  I  cultivate  the  sciences,  and 
make  the  fine  arts  flourish  ;  could  I  collect 
and  unite  all  that  could  please  tlie  passions, 
and  banish  all  that  could  give  pain  : — a  life 
formed  on  this  plan,  how  likely  to  please  us  ! 
How  is  it  that  God,  wlio  has  resolved  to  ren- 
der us  one  day  happy,  does  not  allow  us  to 
continue  in  this  world,  and  content  himself 
with  uniting  all  these  happy  circumstances  in 
our  favoui  .''  '  It  is  good  to  be  here,'  Matt, 
xvii.   4.     O    that  he   would   allow   us   here 


62 


THE  ETERNITY  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  II. 


to  build  our  tabernacles.  Ah!  my  brethren, 
a  life  formed  on  this  plan  might  indeed  an- 
swer the  ideas  of  happiness  which  feeble  and 
finite  geniuses  form,  but  such  a  plan  cannot 
even  approach  the  designs  of  an  infinite  God. 
A  life  formed  on  this  plan  might  indeed  ex- 
haust a  terrestrial  love,  but  it  could  never 
reach  the  love  of  an  infinite  God.  No,  all 
the  charms  of  this  society,  of  this  fortune, 
and  of  this  life  ;  no,  all  the  softness  of  these 
climates,  and  of  tliese  countries  ;  no,  all  the 
benevolence  of  tliese  hearts,  and  all  the 
friendship  of  these  minds  ;  no,  all  the  happi- 
ness of  this  temper,  and  all  the  sublimity  of 
this  genius  ;  no,  all  the  secrets  of  the  sciences, 
and  all  the  discoveries  of  the  fine  arts  ;  all  the 
attractions  of  these  societies,  and  all  the  plea- 
sures of  the  passions,  have  nothing,  I  do  not 
Bay  which  exhausts  the  love  of  God  in  Jesus 
Christ,  I  do  not  say  which  answers,  1  ven- 
ture to  say  which  approaches  it.  To  accom- 
plish this  love,  there  must  be  another  world  ; 
there  must  be  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth ; 
there  must  be  objects  far  more  grand. 

Finally,  the  destruction  of  the  universe  dis- 
plays the  excellence  of  piety.  O  that  I  could 
represent  the  believer  amidst  fires,  flames, 
winds,  tempests,  the  confusion  of  all  nature, 
content,  peaceable,  unalterable  !  O  that  I 
could  represent  the  heavens  passing  away, 
the  elements  dissolving  with  fervent  heat, 
the  earth  and  the  things  which  are  in  it  burn- 
ing up,  and  the  believer,  that  man,  that  in- 
considerable man,  little  by  his  nature,  but 
great  by  the  privileges  with  which  piety  en- 
dows him,  without  suspicion,  rising  fearless 
above  all  the  catastrophes  of  the  universe, 
and  surviving  its  ruins !  O  that  I  could  de- 
scribe the  believer,  while  all  the  '  tribes  of 
the  earth  mourn  and  smite  their  breasts,' 
Matt.  xxiv.  30.  ;  while  the  wicked  shall  be 
*  as  if  they  were  giving  up  the  ghost,'  Luke 
xxi.  26.  ;  while  their  despair  exhales  in  these 
dreadful  bowlings,  '  Mountains  fall  on  us,  hills 
cover  us  from  the  face  of  him  who  sits  on  the 
throne,  and  from  the  face  of  the  Lamb  !'  Rev. 
vi.  16.  O  that  I  could  describe  the  believer 
assured,  triumphant,  founded  on  the  rock  of 
ages,  '  hasting  unto  the  coming  of  the  day  of 
God,'  2  Pet.  iii.  12,  as  our  apostle  expresses 
it ;  aiming  with  transports  of  joy  which  we 
cannot  express,  (O  may  we  one  day  experi- 
ence these  transports  I)  aiming  to  approach 
the  presence  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  his  tenderest 
friend  and  deliverer,  literally  proving  the 
truth  of  this  promise,  '  when  thou  passest 
through  the  waters  they  shall  not  overflow 
thee,  when  thou  walkest  through  the  fire, 
thou  shalt  not  be  burnt,'  Isa.  xliii.  2.     O  that 


I  could  represent  him  crying,  '  Come,  Lord 
Jesus,  come  quickly,'  Rev.  xxii.  20. ;  come, 
receive  a  creature  once  defiled  with  sin ; 
sometimes  even  rebellious,  yet  always  having 
at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  principles  of  love 
to  thee  ;  but  now  ravished  with  transports  of 
joy,  because  he  is  entering  an  economy,  in 
which  he  shall  be  always  submissive,  and  al- 
ways faithful. 

What  shall  I  say  to  you,  my  dear  brethren, 
to  incline  you  to  piety,  if  all  these  grand  mo- 
tives be  without  success  ?  If  the  words  of  my 
text,  if  the  voice  of  an  apostle — what  do  I 
say,  the  voice  of  an  apostle  .' — '  if  the  sun 
darkened,  if  the  moon  changed  into  blood, 
if  the  stars  fallen  from  heaven,  if  the  powers 
of  heaven  shaken,  if  the  heavens  passing 
away  with  a  great  noise,  if  the  elements  dis- 
solving with  fervent  heat,  if  the  earth  con- 
sumed with  all  that  is  therein,'  if  the  univer- 
sal destruction  of  nature  and  elements  be  in- 
capable of  loosening  and  detaching  you  from 
the  present  world  .-' 

It  is  said,  that  some  days  before  the  de- 
struction of  Jerusalem,  a  voice  was  heard 
proceeding  from  the  holy  place,  and  crying, 
'  Let  us  go  hence,  let  us  go  hence.'*  My  bre- 
thren, such  a  voice  addresses  you. 

We  ground  our  exhortations  to-day,  not  on 
the  destruction  of  one  people  only  ;  we  preach 
(if  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so)  in  the  sight  of 
the  ruins  of  this  whole  universe  :  yes,  from 
the  centre  of  the  trembling  world  and  crash- 
ing elements,  a  voice  sounds.  Let  us  go  hence  ; 
let  us  quit  the  world  ;  give  our  hopes  more 
solid  bases  than  enkindled  worlds,  which  will 
shortly  be  burnt  up.  And  then,  pass  away 
heavens  with  a  great  noise,  consume  ele- 
ments, burn  earth  with  all  thy  works,  perish 
universe,  perish  nature,  our  felicity  is  above 
all  such  catastrophes,  we  cleave  to  the  God 
of  ages,  to  God  who  is  the  source  of  existence 
and  duration,  to  God  before  whom  '  a  thou- 
sand years  are  as  one  day,  and  one  day  as  a 
thousand  years.'  '  O  Lord,  of  old  hast  thou 
laid  the  foundation  of  the  earth,  and  the  hea- 
vens are  the  work  of  thine  hands.  They  shall 
perish,  but  thou  shalt  endure  ;  yea,  all  of 
them  shall  wax  old  like  a  garment ;  as  a  ves- 
ture shalt  thou  change  them,  and  they  shall 
be  changed.  But  thou  art  the  same,  and  thy 
years  shall  have  no  end.  The  children  of  thy 
servants  shall  continue,  and  their  seed  shall 
be  established  before  thee,'  Ps.  cii.  26,  &c. 
God  grant  we  may  experience  these  great 
promises  !  To  him  be  honqur  and  glory. 
Amen. 


*  Josephus  de  Bell.  Jud.  lib.  vi.  cap.  31. 


SElli^ION    III. 


THE  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  GOD.'. 


Psalm  cxxxix.  7 — 12. 

Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit?  or  whither  shall  IJlcefrom  thy  presence? 
If  I  ascend  up  into  heaven,  thou  art  there  :  if  I  make  my  bed  in  hell,  behold 
thou  art  there.  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  dwell  in  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  sea :  even  there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me,  and  thy  right  hand 
shcdl  hold  me.  If  I  say,  Surely  the  darkness  shall  cover  me;  even  the  night 
shall  be  light  about  me.  Yea,  the  darkness  hideth  not  from  thee;  but  the 
night  shineth  as  the  day : ,  the  darkness  and  the  light  are  both  alike  to  thee. 


C/OULD  I  have  one  wish,  to  answer  my  pro- 
posed end  of  preaching  to-day  with  efficacy, 
Christians,  it  should  be  to  show  you  God  in 
this  assembly.  Moses  had  such  an  advantage, 
no  man,  therefore,  ever  spoke  with  greater 
success.  He  gave  the  law  to  the  people  in 
God  the  legislator's  presence.  He  could  say. 
This  law  which  I  give  you  proceeds  from 
God  ;  here  is  his  throne,  there  is  his  light- 
ning, yonder  is  his  thunder.  Accordingly, 
never  were  a  people  more  struck  with  a  legis- 
lator's voice.  Moses  had  hardly  begun  to 
speak,  but  at  least  for  that  moment,  all  hearts 
were  united,  and  all  Sinai  echoed  with  one 
voice,  crying,  '  All  that  thou  hast  spoken  we 
will  do,'  Exod.  xix.  8. 

But  in  vain  are  our  sermons  drawn  from 
the  sacred  sources  ;  in  vain  do  we  say  to  you, 

*  Thus  saith  the  Lord :'  ye  see  only  a  man  ; 
ye  hear  only  a  mortal  voice  in  this  pulpit ; 
God  hath  put  his  '  treasure  into  earthen  ves- 
sels,' 2  Cor.  iv.  7.  ;  and  our  auditors,  estimat- 
ing the  treasure  by  the  meanness  of  the  ves- 
sel, instead  of  supporting  the  meanness  of  the 
vessel  for  the  sake  of  the  treasure,  hear  us 
without  respect,  and  generally,  derive  no  ad- 
vantage from  the  ministry. 

But  were  God  present  in  this  assembly, 
could  we  show  you  the  Deity  amongst  you, 
authorizing  our  voice  by  his  approbation  and 
presence,  and  examining  with  what  disposi- 
tions ye  hear  his  word,  which  of  you,  which 
of  you,  my  brethren,  could  resist  so  eminent 
and  so  noble  a  motive  .' 

Christians,  this  idea  is  not  destitute  of  re- 
ality :  God  is  every  where  ;  lie  is  in  this 
church.  Veils  of  flesh  and  blood  prevent  your 
sight  of  him  ;  these  must  fall,  and  ye  must 
open  the  eyes  of  your  spirits,  if  ye  would  see 
a  God  who  is  a  spirit,  John  iv.  24.  Hear  our 
prophet ;  hear  his  magnificent  description  of 
the    immensity   and   omnipresence    of    God. 

*  Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit  ?  or  whi- 
ther shall  I  flee  from  thy  presence  ?  If  I  as- 
scend  up  into  heaven,  "thou  art  there.  If  I 
make  my  bed  in  hell,  behold  thou  art  there. 
If  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  dwell 
in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea  :  even  tliere 
shall  thy  hand  lend  me,  and  thy  right  hand 
shall  hold  me.  If  I  say,  Sure!}'-  the  darkness 
shall  cover  me  ;  even  the  night  shall  be  light 


about  me.  Yea,  the  darkness  hideth  not  from 
thee  ;  but  the  night  shineth  as  the  day  :  the 
darkness  and  the  light  are  both  alike  to  thee.' 

In  a  text  less  abundant  in  riclies,  we  might 
make  some  remarks  on  the  terms  Spirit  and 
jjrescnce  ;  but  we  will  content  ourselves  at 
present  with  indicating  what  ideas  we  affix  to 
them,  by  observing,  that  by  the  Spirit  and 
presence  of  God,  we  understand  God  himself. 
I  know,  some  divines  discover  great  myste- 
ries in  these  terms,  and  tell  us  that  there  are 
some  passages  in  Scripture  where  the  word 
presence  means  the  second  person  in  the  most 
holy  Trinity,  and  where  the  term  Spirit  is 
certainly  to  be  understood  of  the  third.  But 
as  there  are  some  passages  where  these  terms 
have  not  this  signification,  it  is  beyond  all 
doubt,  that  this,  which  we  are  explaining,  it 
precisely  of  the  latter  kind.  But  however,  it 
any  dispute  our  comment,  we  shall  leave 
them  to  dispute  it ;  for  it  would  be  unjust  to 
consume  that  time  which  is  dedicated  to  the 
edification  of  a  whole  congregation,  in  refut- 
ing a  particular  opinion.  The  other  expres- 
sions in  our  text,  heaiicn,  hell ;  the  icings  of 
the  morning,  a  figurative  expression  denoting 
the  rapidity  of  the  light  in  communicating  it- 
self from  one  end  of  the  world  to  the  other  ; 
these  expressions,  I  say,  need  no  comment. 
The  presence  of  God,  the  Spirit  of  God,  sig- 
nify then  the  divine  essence  :  and  tliis  as- 
semblage of  ideas,  '  whither  shall  I  go  from 
thy  Spirit ''  whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  pre- 
sence V  means,  that  God  is  immense,  and  that 
he  is  present  in  every  place. 

But  wherein  consists  this  immensity  and 
omnipresence  .-"  If  ever  a  question  required 
developing,  this  certainly  does  ;  not  only  be- 
cause it  presents  to  the  mind  an  abstract  sub- 
ject, which  does  not  fall  under  the  observa- 
tion of  the  seii.tes,  but  because  many  who 
have  treated  this  matter,  (pardon  an  opinion 
which  does  not  proceed  From  a  desire  of  op- 
posing any  individual,  but  only  from  a  love  to 
the  truth,)  many  who  have  handled  the  sub- 
ject, have  contributed  more  to  perplex  than 
to  explain  it.  We  may  observe  in  general, 
that  unless  we  be  wholly  unacquainted  with 
the  history  of  the  sciences,  it  is  impossible 
not  to  acknowledge,  thnt  all  questions  about 
the  nature  of  spirits,  all  that  are  any  way  re- 


64 


THE  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  III. 


lated  to  metaphysics,  were  very  little  under- 
stood before  the  time  of  tliat  celebrated  phi- 
losopher, whom  God  seems  to  have  bestowed 
on  the  world  to  purify  reason,  as  he  had 
some  time  before  raised  up  others  to  purify 
religion.* 

What  heaps  of  crude  and  indigested  no- 
tions do  we  find  among  the  schofilinen  of  the 
immensity  of  God  !  One  said  that  God  was 
a  point,  indivisible  indeed,  but  a  point,  how- 
ever, that  had  tlie  peculiar  property  of  occu- 
pying every  part  of  the  universe.  Another, 
that  God  was  the  place  of  all  beings,  the  im- 
mense extent  in  wliich  his  power  had  placed 
them.  Another,  that  his  essence  was  really 
in  heaven,  but  yet,  repIctircJy,  as  they  ex- 
press it,  in  every  part  of  the  universe.  In 
short,  this  truth  has  been  obscured  by  the 
grossest  ignorance.  Whatever  aversion  we 
nave  to  the  decisive  tone,  we  will  venture  to 
affirm,  that  people  who  talked  in  this  manner 
of  God,  had  no  ideas  themselves  of  what  they 
advanced. 

Do  not  be  afraid  of  our  conducting  you  into 
these  wild  mazes ;  do  not  imagine  that  we 
will  busy  ourselves  in  exposing  all  these  no- 
tions for  the  sake  of  labouring  to  refute  them. 
We  will  content  ourselves  with  giving  you 
some  light  into  the  omnipresence  of  God : 

I.  By  removing  those  false  ideas,  which  at 
first  seem  to  present  themselves  to  the  ima- 
gination ; 

II.  By  assigning  the  true. 

I.  Let  us  remove  the  false  ideas,  which  at 
first  present  themselves  to  the  imagination  ; 
as  if,  when  we  say  that  God  is  present  in  any 
place,  we  mean  that  lie  is  actually  contained 
there  ;  as  if,  when  we  say  that  God  is  in  every 
place,  we  mean  to  assign  to  him  a  real  and 
proper  extension.  Neither  of  tliese  is  design- 
ed ;  and  to  remove  these  ideas,  my  brethren, 
two  reflections  are  sufficient. 

God  is  a  Spirit.  A  spirit  cannot  be  in  a 
place,  at  least  in  the  manner  in  which  we  con- 
ceive of  place. 

1.  God  is  a  Spirit.  What  relation  can  ye 
find  between  wisdom,  power, mercy,  and  all  the 
other  attributes  which  enter  into  your  notion 
of  the  Divinity,  and  the  nature  of  bodies .' 
Pulverize  matter,  give  it  all  the  different 
forms  of  which  it  is  susceptible,  elevate  it  to 
its  highest  degree  of  attainment,  make  it  vast, 
and  immense  ;  moderate,  or  small ;  luminous, 
or  obscure;  opake,  or  transparent ;  there  will 
never  result  any  thing  but  figures,  and  never 
will  ye  be  able,  by  all  these  combinations,  or 
divisions,  to  produce  one  single  sentiment,  one 
single  thought,  like  that  of  the  meanest  and 
most  contracted  of  all  mankind.  If  matter 
then  cannot  be  tlie  subject  of  one  single  ope- 
ration of  the  soul  of  a  mechanic,  how  should 
it  be  the  subject  of  those  attributes  which 
make  the  essence  of  God  himself.'' 

But  perhaps  God,  who  is  spiritual  in  one 
part  of  his  essence,  may  be  corporeal  in  nno- 
thci  part,  like  man,  who,  although  he  hath  a 
spiritual  soul,  is  yet  united  to  a  portion  of 
matter  .'    No  ;  for  however  admirable  in  man 


*  The  philosopher  intended  by  Mr.  S.  I  suppose,  is 
h)3  countryman  Ves  Cartes,  born  in  I59U.  Vie  de 
Desc.  par  Daillet. 


that  union'of  spiritual  and  sensible  may  be, 
and  those  laws  which  unite  his  soul  to  his 
body,  nothing  more  fully  marks  his  weakness 
and  dependence,  and  consequently  nothing 
can  less  agree  with  the  divine  essence.  Is  it 
not  a  mark  of  the  dependence  of  an  immortal 
and  intelligent  soul,  to  be  enveloped  in  a  lit- 
tle flesh  and  blood,  which,  according  to  their 
different  notions,  determine  his  joy  or  sorrow, 
his  happiness  or  misery  .'  Is  it  not  a  mark  of 
the  weakness  of  our  spirits  to  have  the  power 
of  acting  only  on  that  little  matter  to  which 
we  are  united,  and  to  have  no  power  over 
more  .-*  Who  can  imagine  that  God  hath  such 
limits .'  He  hath  no  body ;  he  is  united  to 
none  ;  yet  he  is  united  to  all.  That  celebra- 
ted philosopher,  shall  I  call  him  ?  or  atheist,* 
who  said,  that  the  assemblage  ot  all  existence 
constituted  the  divine  essence,  who  would 
have  us  consider  all  corporeal  beings  as  the 
body  of  the  Divinity,  published  a  great  ex- 
travagance, if  he  meant  that  the  divine  es- 
sence consisted  of  this  assemblage.  But  there 
is  a  very  just  sense  in  which  it  may  be  said, 
that  the  whole  universe  is  the  body  of  the 
Deity.  In  effect,  as  I  call  this  portion  of 
matter  my  body,  which  I  move,  act,  and  direct 
as  I  please,  so  God  actuates  by  his  will  every 
part  of  the  universe  :  he  obscures  the  sun,  he 
calms  the  winds,  he  commands  the  sea.  But 
this  very  notion  excludes  all  corporiety  from 
God,  and  proves  that  God  is  a  spirit.  If  God 
sometimes  represents  himself  with  feet,  with 
hands,  with  eyes,  he  means,  in  these  portraits, 
rather  to  give  us  emblems  of  his  attributes, 
than  images  (properly  speaking)  of  any  parts 
which  he  possesseth.  Therefore,  when  he 
attributes  these  to  himself,  he  gives  them  so 
vast  an  extent,  that  we  easily  perceive,  they 
are  not  to  be  grossly  understood.  Has  he 
hands  ^  they  are  hands  which  '  weigh  the 
mountains  in  scales,  and  the  hills  in  a  balance, 
which  measure  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand,  and  mete  out  the  heavens  with  a  span,' 
Isa.  xl.  12.  Has  he  eyes  .''  they  are  eyes  that 
penetrate  the  most  unmeasurable  distances. 
Has  he  feet .'  they  are  feet  which  reach  from 
heaven  to  earth,  for  the  '  heaven  is  his  throne, 
and  the  earth  is  his  footstool,'  Isa.  Ixvi.  1. 
Has  he  a  voice  .'  it  is  as  '  the  sound  of  many 
waters,  breaking  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  mak- 
ing mount  Sirion  skip  like  a  unicorn,  and  the 
hinds  to  calve,'  Ps.  xxix.  3.  5,  6.  9 

This  reminds  me  of  a  beautiful  passage  in 
Plato.  He  says  that  the  gods,  particularly 
tlie  chief  good,  the  ineffable  beauty,  as  he 
calls  him,  cannot  be  conceived  of  but  by  the 
understanding  only,  and  by  quitting  sensible 
objects  ;  that  in  order  to  contemplate  the  di- 
vinity, terrestrial  ideas  must  be  surmounted  ; 
that  the  eyes  cannot  see  him ;  that  the  ears 
cannot  hear  him.  A  thought  which  Julian 
the  apostate,  a  great  admirer  of  that  philoso- 
pher, so  nobly  expresses  in  his  satire  on  the 
Cesars.  Thus  every  thing  serves  to  establish 
our  first  principle,  tjiat  God  is  a  Spirit. 

2.  But  to  prove  that  God  is  a  Spirit,  and  to 
prove  that  he  occupies  no  place,  at  least  as 

*  Mr.  S.  means,  I  sliould  suppose,  Spinoza:  whose 
system  of  atheism,  says  a  sensible  writer,  is  more 
gross,  and,tlierefore,  less  dangerous,  than  others  \  hi» 
poison  carrying  its  antidote  with  it. 


ser.  m.] 


THE  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  GOD. 


65 


our  imagination  conceives,  is,  in  our  opinion, 
to  establish  the  same  thesis. 

I  linow  how  difficult  it  is  to  make  this  con- 
sequence intelligible  and  clear,  not  only  to 
those  who  have  never  been  accustomed  to 
meditation,  and  who  are  therefore  more  excu- 
sable for  having  confused  ideas ;  but  even  to 
such  as,  having  cultivated  the  sciences,  are 
most  intent  on  refining  their  ideas.  I  freely 
acknowledge,  that  after  we  have  used  our  ut- 
most efforts  to  rise  above  sense  and  matter, 
it  will  be  extremely  difficult  to  conceive  the 
existence  of  a  spirit,  without  conceiving  it  in 
a  certain  place.  Yet,  I  think,  whatever  dif- 
ficulty there  may  be  in  the  system  of  those 
who  maintain  that  an  immaterial  being  can- 
not be  in  a  place,  properly  so  called,  there  are 
greater  difficulties  still  in  the  opposite  opinion : 
for  what  is  immaterial  hath  no  parts  ;  what 
hath  no  parts  hath  no  form ;  what  hath  no 
form  hath  no  extension ;  what  hath  no  exten- 
sion can  have  no  situation  in  place,  properly 
so  called.  For  what  is  it  to  be  in  place  .''  is  it 
not  to  fill  space .''  is  it  not  to  be  adjusted  with 
surrounding  bodies  ?  how  adjust  with  sur- 
rounding bodies  without  parts  ?  how  consist 
of  parts  without  being  corporeal.''  But  if  ye 
ascribe  a  real  and  proper  extension  to  a  spirit, 
every  thought  of  that  spirit  would  be  a  sepa- 
rate portion  of  that  extension,  as  ever  part  of 
the  body  is  a  separate  portion  of  the  whole 
body ;  every  operation  of  spirit  would  be  a 
modification  of  that  extension,  as  every  ope- 
ration of  body  is  a  modification  of  body  ; 
and,  were  this  the  case,  there  would  be 
no  absurdity  in  saying-,  that  a  thought  is 
round,  or  square,  or  cubic,  which  is  nothing 
less  than  the  confounding  of  spirit  with 
matter.  Thus  the  idea  which  our  imagi- 
nation forms  of  the  omnipresence  of  God, 
when  it  represents  the  essence  of  the  Supreme 
Being  filling  infinite  spaces,  as  we  are  lodged 
in  our  houses,  is  a  false  idea  that  ought  to  be 
carefully  avoided. 

II.  What  notions  then  must  we  form  of  the 
immensity  of  God  ;  in  what  sense  do  we  con- 
ceive that  the  infinite  Spirit  is  every  where 
present .''  My  brethren,  the  bounds  of  our 
knowledge  are  so  strait,  our  sphere  is  so  con- 
tracted,we  have  such  imperfect  ideas  of  spirits, 
even  of  our  own  spirits,  and  for  a  much  strong- 
er reason,  of  the  Father  of  spirits,  that  no  gen- 
ius in  the  world,  however  exalted  ye  may 
suppose  him,  after  his  great8stefforts"of  med- 
itation, can  say  to  you,  Thus  far  extend  the 
attributes  of  God  ;  behold  a  complete  idea  of 
his  immensity  and  omnipresence.  Yet,  by 
the  help  of  sound  reason,  above  all,  by  the  aid 
of  revelation,  we  may  give  you,  if  not  com- 
plete, at  least  distinct,  ideas  of  the  subject : 
it  is  possible,  if  not  to  indicate  all  the  senses 
in  which  God  is  immense,  at  least  to  point 
out  some ;  it  is  possible,  if  not  to  show  you 
all  the  truth,  at  least  to  discover  it  in  part. 

Let  us  not  conceive  the  omnipresence  of 
God  as  a  particular  attribute  (if  I  may  ven- 
ture to  say  so)  of  the  Deity,  as  goodness  or 
wisdom,  but  as  the  extent  or  infinity  of  many 
others.  The  omnipresence  of  God  is  that 
universal  property  by  which  he  communicates 
himself  to  all,  diffuses  himself  through  all,  is 
the  great  director  of  all,  or,  to  confine  ourselves 
to  more  distinct  ideas  still,  the  infinite  Spirit 
is  present  in  every  place. 


1.  By  a  boundless  knowledge. 

2.  By  a  general  influence. 

3.  By  a  universal  direction. 

God  is  every  where,  because  he  seeth  all, 
because  he  2??^MC7ice</t  all,  be  nusehe  directeth 
all.  This  we  must  prove  and  establish.  But 
if  ye  would  judge  rightly  of  what  ye  have 
heard,  and  of  what  ye  may  still  hear,  ye  must 
remember  that  this  subject  has  no  relation  to 
your  pleasure,  nor  to  your  policy,  nor  to  any 
of  those  objects  which  occupy  and  fill  your 
whole  souls ;  and  consequently,  that  if  ye 
would  follow  us,  ye  must  stretch  your  medi- 
tation, and  go,  as  it  were,  out  of  yourselves. 
1.  The  first  idea  of  God's  omnipresence  is 
his  omniscience.  God  is  every  where  present^ 
because  he  seeth  all.  This  the  prophet  had 
principally  in  view.  '  O  Lord,  thou  hast 
searched  me,  and  known  me.  Thou  knowest 
my  down-sitting  and  mine  up-rising,  thou 
understandest  my  thoughts  afar  off.  Thou 
compassest  my  path  and  my  lying  down,  and 
art  acquainted  with  all  my  ways.  For  there 
is  not  a  word  in  my  tongue,  but  lo,  O  Lord, 
thou  knowest  it  altogether.  Thou  hast  beset 
me  behind  and  before.  Such  knowledge  is  too 
wonderful  for  me  ;  it  is  high,  I  cannot  attain 
unto  it,'  ver.  1 — 3,  &c.  Then  follow  the 
words  of  our  text :  '  Whither  shall  I  go  from 
thy  Spirit  ?'  and  so  on. 

Let  us  then  not  consider  the  Deity,  after 
the  example  of  the  schoolmen,  as  a  point  fixed 
in  the  universality  of  beings.  Let  us  consider 
the  universality  of  beings  as  a  point,  and  the 
Deity  as  an  immense  eye,  which  sees  all  that 
passes  in  that  point,  all  that  can  possibly  pass 
there;  and  which,  by  an  all-animating  intel- 
ligence, makes  an  exact  combination  of  all 
the  effects  of  matter,  and  of  all  the  dispositions 
of  spirit. 

I  God  knows  all  the  effects  of  matter.  An 
expert  workman  takes  a  parcel  of  matter  pro- 
portioned to  a  work  which  he  meditates,  he 
makes  divers  wheels,  disposes  them  properly, 
and  sees,  by  the  rules  of  his  art,  what  must 
result  from  their  assemblage.  Suppose  a  sub- 
lime, exact  genius,  knowing  how  to  go  from 
principle  to  principle,  and  from  consequence 
to  consequence,  after  foreseeing  what  must 
result  from  two  wheels  joined  together,  should 
imagine  a  third,  he  will  as  certainly  know 
what  must  result  from  a  third,  as  from  a  first 
and  second ;  after  imagining  a  third,  he  may 
imagine  a  fourth,  and  properly  arrange  it 
with  the  rest  in  his  imagination ;  after  a 
fourth,  a  fifth,  and  so  on  to  an  endless  number. 
Such  a  man  could  mathematically  demon- 
strate, in  an  exact  and  infallible  manner, 
what  must  result  from  a  work  composed  of  all 
these  different  wheels.  Suppose  further,  that 
this  workman,  having  accurately  considered 
the  effects  which  would  be  produced  on  these 
wheels,  by  that  subtile  matter  whicli  in  their 
whirlings  continually  surrounds  them,  and 
which,  by  its  perpetual  action  and  motion, 
chafes,  wears,  and  dissolves  all  bodies ;  this 
workman  would  tell  you,  with  the  same  exact- 
ness, how  long  each  of  these  wheels  would 
wear,  and  when  the  whole  work  would  be  con- 
sumed. Give  this  workman  life  and  industry 
proportional  to  his  imagination,  furnish  him 
with  materials  proportional  to  his  ideas,  and 
he  will  produce  a  vast,  ijnniense  work,  all  the 
different   motions   of  which  ho   can  exactly 


66 


THE  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  III. 


combine  ;  all  the  different  effects  of  which  ho 
can  evidently  foresee.  He  will  see,  in  what 
time  motion  will  be  communicated  from  the 
first  of  these  wheels  to  the  second,  at  what 
time  the  second  will  move  the  third,  and  so  of 
the  rest :  he  will  foretell  all  their  different  mo- 
tions, and  all  the  effects  which  must  result 
from  their  different  combinations. 

Hitherto  this  is  only  supposition,  my  bre- 
thren, but  it  is  a  supposition  that  conducts  us 
to  the  most  certain  of  all  facts.  This  work- 
man is  God.  God  is  this  sublime,  exact,  in- 
finite genius.  He  calls  into  being  matter, 
without  motion,  and,  in  some  sense,  without 
form.  He  gives  this  matter  form  and  mo- 
tion. He  makes  a  certain  number  of  wheels, 
or  rather  he  makes  them  without  number. 
He  disposes  them  as  he  thinks  proper.  He 
communicates  a  certain  degree  of  motion 
agreeable  to  the  laws  of  his  wisdom.  Thence 
arises  the  world  wliich  strikes  our  eyes.  By 
the  forementioned  example,  I  conceive,  that 
God,  by  his  own  intelligence,  saw  what  must 
result  from  the  arrangement  of  all  the  wheels 
that  compose  this  world,  and  knew,  with  the 
utmost  exactness,  all  their  combinations.  He 
saw  that  a  certain  degree  of  motion,  impart- 
ed to  a  certain  portion  of  matter,  would  pro- 
duce water  ;  tliat  another  degree  of  motion, 
communicated  to  another  portion  of  matter, 
would  produce  fire  ;  that  another  would  pro- 
duce earth,  and  so  of  the  rest.  He  foresaw, 
with  the  utmost  precision,  what  would  result 
from  this  water,  from  this  fire,  from  this 
earth,  when  joined  together,  and  agitated  by 
such  a  degree  of  motion  as  he  should  com- 
municate. By  the  bare  inspection  of  the 
laws  of  motion,  he  foresaw  fires,  he  foresaw 
ehipwrecks,  he  foresaw  earthquakes,  he  fore- 
saw all  the  vicissitudes  of  time,  he  foresaw 
those  which  must  put  a  period  to  time,  when 
'  the  heavens  shall  pass  away  with  a  great 
noise,  when  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fer- 
vent heat,  when  the  earth,  with  all  the  works 
that  are  in  it,  shall  be  burnt  up,'  2  Pet.  iii.  10. 

2.  But,  if  God  could  combine  all  that  would 
result  from  the  laws  of  motion  communicated 
to  matter,  he  could  also  combine  all  that 
would  result  from  intelligence,  freedom  of 
will,  and  all  the  faculties  which  make  the  es- 
sence of  spirits  ;  and,  before  he  had  formed 
all  those  spiritual  beings  which  compose  the 
intelligible  world,  he  knew  what  all  their 
ideas,  all  their  projects,  all  their  deliberations, 
would  for  ever  be. 

I  am  aware,  that  a  particular  consequence, 
which  follows  this  doctrine,  has  made  some 
divines  exclaim  against  this  thesis,  and,  un- 
der the  specious  pretence  of  exculpating  the 
Deity  from  the  entrance  of  sin  into  this 
world,  they  have  affirmed  that  God  could  not 
foresee  the  determinations  of  a  free  agent  ; 
for,  say  they,  had  he  foreseen  the  abuse  which 
man  would  have  made  of  his  liberty,  in  re- 
solving to  sin,  his  love  to  holiness  would  have 
engtaged  him  to  prevent  it.  But  to  reason  in 
this  manner  is,  in  attempting  to  solve  a  diffi- 
culty, to  leave  that  difficulty  in  all  its  force. 

All  that  they  say  on  tliis  article  proceeds 
from  this  principle,  that  a  God,  infinitely  just, 
and  infinitely  powerful,  ought  to  display  (if 
it  be  allowable  to  say  so)  all  the  infinity  of  his 
attributes  to  prevent  sin.     But  this  principle 


is  notoriously  false.  Witness  that  very  per- 
mission of  sin  which  is  objected  to  us.  Ye 
will  not  acknowledge  that  God  foresaw  man's 
fall  into  sin ;  acknowledge,  at  least,  that  he 
foresaw  the  possibility  of  men's  falling,  and 
that,  in  forming  a  creature  free,  he  knew  that 
such  a  creature  might  choose  virtue  or  vice  ; 
acknowledge,  at  least,  that  God  could  have 
created  man  with  so  much  knowledge,  and 
could  have  afforded  him  so  many  succours  ; 
he  could  have  presented  such  powerful  mo- 
tives to  holiness  incessantly,  and  discovered 
to  him  the  dreadful  consequences  of  his  re- 
bellion so  effectually  ;  he  could  have  united 
obedience  to  his  commands  with  so  many  de- 
lig'hts,  and  the  most  distant  thought  of  dis- 
obedience with  so  many  disgusts  ;  he  could 
have  banished  from  man  every  temptation  to 
sin,  so  that  he  would  never  have  been  a  sin- 
ner. Yet  God  created  man  in  another  man- 
ner ;  consequently  it  is  not  true,  even  in  your 
system,  that  God  hath  exerted  all  the  power 
he  could  to  prevent  sin's  entrance  into  the 
world.  Consequently  it  is  false,  that  a  being, 
who  perfectly  loves  holiness,  ought  to  display 
the  whole  extent  of  his  attributes  to  prevent 
sin,  and  to  establish  virtue.  Consequently, 
the  principle  on  which  ye  ground  your  denial 
of  God's  comprehension  of  all  the  dispositions 
of  spirits,  is  an  unwarrantable  principle,  and 
to  attempt  to  solve  the  difficulty,  in  this  man- 
ner, is  to  leave  it  in  all  its  force. 

But,  if  ye  consult  revelation,  ye  will  find 
that  God  claims  a  universal  knowledge  of 
spirits.  He  says,  that  he  '  searchethandknow- 
eth  them,'  Jer.  xvii.  10. ;  Rev.  ii.  23. ;  Gen. 
XV.  13. ;  Exod.  iii.  19.  He  foresaw,  he  fore- 
told, the  afflictions  which  Abraham's  posteri- 
ty would  endure  in  Egypt,  the  hardening  of 
Pharaoh,  the  infidelity  of  the  Jews,  the  faith 
of  the  Gentiles,  the  crucifixion  of  the  Mes- 
siah, the  coming  of  the  prince  or  leader,  that 
is  of  Vespasian,  or  Titus,  who  would  '  de>- 
stroy  the  city  and  the  sanctuary,'  Dan.  ix. 
25,  26.  And  consequently,  we  have  a  right 
to  affirm  that  God  knows  all  the  thoughts  of 
the  mind,  and  all  the  sentiments  of  tlie  heart, 
as  well  as  that  he  knows  all  the  motions  of 
matter. 

Perhaps  ye  wish,  my  brethren,  that  our 
speculations  were  carried  further  ;  perhaps  ye 
would  have  us  disentangle  the  subject  from 
all  its  difficulties  ;  perhaps  ye  wish  we  could 
make  you  comprehend,  in  a  clear  and  distinct 
manner,  how  it  is  possible  that  such  immense 
objects  can  be  always  present  to  the  Supreme 
Intelligence  .'  but  what  mortal  mouth  can 
express  such  sublime  truths,  or  what  capaci- 
ty is  able  to  conceive  them  !  On  this  article, 
we  are  obliged  with  our  prophet  to  exclaim, 
'  Such  knowledge  is  too  wonderful  for  me,  it 
is  high  :  I  cannot  attain  unto  it !'  ver.  G.  In 
general,  we  conceive  that  the  sphere  of  di- 
vine knowledge  is  not  contracted  by  any  of 
the  limits  that  confine  the  spirits  of  mankind. 

The  human  spirit  is  united  to  a  portion  of 
matter.  Man  can  perform  no  operation  with- 
out the  agitation  of  his  brain,  without  the 
motion  of  his  animal  spirits,  without  the  help 
of  his  senses.  But  the  brain  wearies,  the 
spirits  dissipate,  the  senses  are  blunted,  and 
the  minutest  alteration  of  body  clogs  the  most 
penetrating  and  active  genius.     But  God,  as 


Ser.  Ill] 


THE  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  GOD. 


67 


•we  have  represented  him,  thinks,  understands, 
meditates,  without  brain,  without  spirits, 
without  any  need  of  senses  ;  not  participat- 
ing their  nature,  he  never  participates  their 
alteration,  and  thus  hath  intelligence  imme- 
diately from  the  treasure  of  intelligence  it- 
self. 

The  spirit  of  man  owes  its  existence  to  a 
superior  Spirit,  to  a  foreign  cause,  to  a  Be- 
ing who  gives  him  only  such  ideas  as  he 
thinks  proper,  and  who  hath  been  pleased  to 
conceal  numberless  mysteries  from  him.  But 
<Jod,  God  not  only  does  not  owe  his  exist- 
ence to  a  foreign  cause,  but  all  that  exist  de- 
rive their  existence  from  him.  His  ideas 
were  the  models  of  all  beings,  and  he  hath 
only  to  contemplate  himself  perfectly  to  know 
them. 

The  spirit  of  man  is  naturally  a  finite  spi- 
rit ;  he  can  consider  only  one  circle  of  ob- 
i'ects  at  once,  many  ideas  confound  him  ;  if 
le  would  see  too  much  he  sees  nothing,  he 
must  successively  contemplate  what  he  can- 
not contemplate  in  one  moment.  But  God  is 
an  infinite  Spirit ;  with  one  single  look  he  be- 
holdeth  the  whole  universe.  This  is  the  first 
idea  of  the  omnipresence  of  God.  As  I  am 
accounted  present  in  this  auditory,  because  I 
see  the  objects  that  are  here,  because  I  am 
witness  of  all  that  passes  here,  so  God  is 
every  where,  because  he  sees  all,  because 
veils  the  most  impenetrable,  darkness  the 
most  thick,  distances  the  most  immense,  can 
conceal  nothing  from  his  knowledge.  Soar 
to  the  utmost  heights,  fly  into  the  remotest 
climates,  wrap  thyself  in  the  blackest  dark- 
ness, every  where,  every  where,  thou  wilt  be 
under  his  eye.  '  Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy 
Spirit .'  or  whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  pre- 
sence .•" 

But,  2.  The  knowledge  of  God  is  not  a 
bare  knowledge,  his  presence  is  not  an  idle 
presence  ;  it  is  an  active  knowledge,  it  is  a 
presence  accompanied  with  action  and  mo- 
tion. We  said,  just  now,  that  God  was  every 
where,  because  he  infiuenced  all,  as  far  as  in- 
fluence could  agree  with  his  perfections.  Re- 
mark this  restriction,  for,  as  we  are  discuss- 
ing a  subject  the  most  fertile  in  controversy, 
and,  as  in  a  discourse  of  an  hour,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  answer  all  objections,  which  may  be 
all  answered  elsewhere,  we  would  give  a  ge- 
neral preservative  against  every  mistake. 
We  mean  an  influence  which  agrees  with  the 
divine  perfections  ;  and  if,  from  any  of  our 
general  propositions,  ye  infer  any  consequen- 
ces injurious  to  those  perfections,  ye  may 
conclude,  for  that  very  reason,  that  ye  have 
stretched  them  beyond  their  due  bounds. 
We  repeat  it  then,  God  influenceth  all  things, 
as  far  as  such  influence  agrees  with  his  per- 
fections. 

When  new  beings  appear,  he  is  there.  He 
influences  their  production.  He  gives  to  all 
life,  motion,  and  being,  Acts  xvii.  28.  Neh. 
ix.  6. ;  '  Thou,  even  thou,  art  Lord  alone, 
thou  hast  made  heaven,  the  heaven  of  hea- 
vens, with  all  their  host,  the  earth  and  all 
things  that  are  therein,  the  seas  and  all  that 
IS  therein,  and  thou  preservest  them  all,  and 
the  host  of  heaven  worshippeth  thee. — O 
Lord,  I  will  praise  thee,  for  I  am  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made  ;  marvellous  are  thy 


works,  and  that  my  soul  knoweth  right  well.' 
Ps.  cxxxix.  14 — 16. ;  '  My  substance  was  not 
hid  from  thee,  when  I  was  made  in  secret, 
and  curiously  wrought  in  the  lowest  parts  of 
the  earth.  Thine  eyes  did  see  my  substance 
yet  being  unperfect,  and  in  thy  book  all  my 
members  were  written,  which  in  continuance 
were  fashioned,  when  as  yet  there  was  none 
of  them. — Thine  hands  have  made  me,  and 
fashioned  me  together  round  about.  Thou 
hast  clothed  me  with  skin  and  flesh,  and  hast 
fenced  me  with  bones  and  sinews.'  Ps.  xxxvi. 
5,  6.  When  beings  are  preserved,  he  is  there. 
He  influences  their  preservation.  '  Thy  mer- 
cy, O  Lord,  is  in  the  heavens,  and  thy  faith- 
fulness reacheth  unto  the  clouds.  Thou  pre- 
servest man  and  beast.  When  thou  openest 
thy  hand,  they  are  filled  with  good  :  thou 
hidest  thy  face,  they  are  troubled  ;  thou  tak- 
est  away  their  breath,  they  die,  and  return 
to  their  dust.  Thou  sendest  forth  thy  Spirit, 
they  are  created,  and  thou  renewest  the  face 
of  the  earth,'  Ps.  civ.  28—30. 

When  the  world  is  disordered,  he  is  there. 
He  influenceth  wars,  pestilence,  famines,  and 
all  the  vicissitudes  which  disorder  the  world. 
If  nature  refuse  her  productions,  it  is  because 
he  has  '  made  the  heaven  as  iron,  and  the 
earth  as  brass,'  Lev.  xxvi.  19.  If  peace  suc- 
ceed war,  he  makes  both.  If  '  lions  slay  the 
inhabitants  of  Samaria,'  it  is  '  the  Lord  who 
sends  them,'  2  Kings  xvii.  25.  When  tem- 
pestuous winds  break  down  those  immense 
banks  which  your  industry  has  opposed  to 
them,  when  a  devouring  fire  reduceth  your 
houses  to  ashes,  it  is  he  who  '  makes  the 
winds  his  messengers,  and  his  rainistera 
flames  of  fire,'  Ps.  civ.  4. 

When  every  thing  succeeds  according  to 
our  wishes,  he  is  there.  He  influenceth  pros- 
perity. '  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.  It  is  in  vain  for  you  to  rise  up 
early,  to  sit  up  late,  to  eat  the  bread  of  sor- 
rows. It  is  God  who  giveth  his  beloved 
sleep,'  Ps.  cxxvii.  1,  2. 

When  our  understanding  is  informed,  he  is 
there.  He  influenceth  our  knowledge.  For 
'  in  his  light  we  see  light,'  Ps.  xxxvi.  10.  '  He 
lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the 
world,'  John  i.  9. 

When  our  heart  disposeth  us  to  our  duties, 
he  is  there.  He  influenceth  our  virtues.  It  is 
he  who  '  worketh  in  us,  both  to  will  and  to  do 
of  his  own  good  pleasure,'  Phil.  ii.  13.  It  is  he 
who  '  giveth  us  not  only  to  believe,  but  to 
suffer  for  his  sake,'  Phil.  i.  29.  It  is  he  who 
'  giveth  to  all  that  ask  him  liberally,  and  up- 
braideth  not,'  James  i.  5. 

When  the  grossest  errors  cover  us,  he  is 
there.  He  influenceth  errors.  It  is  God  who 
'  sends  strong  delusions  that  men  should  be- 
lieve a  lie,'  2  Thess.  ii.  11.  '  Go  make  the 
heart  of  this  people  fat,  and  make  their  ears 
heavy,  and  shut  their  eyes,  lest  they  should 
see  with  their  eyes,  and  hear  with  their  ears,' 
Isa.  vi.  10. 

When  we  violate  the  laws  of  righteousness, 
he  is  there.  He  influenceth  sins,  even  the 
greatest  sins.  Witness  Pharaoh,  whose  '  heart 
he  hardened,'  Exod.  iv.  21.  Witness  Shimei, 
whom  '  the  Lord  bade  to  curse  David,'  2  Sara. 


68 


THE  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  GOD. 


Ser.  III. 


xvi.  11.  Witness  what  Isaiah  said,  '  the  Lord 
hatli  mingled  a  perverse  spirit  in  the  midst  of 
Egypt,'  Isa.  xix.  14. 

When  magistrates,  our  earthly  gods,  con- 
sult and  deliberate,  he  is  there.  He  influen- 
ceth  policy.  It  is  he  who '  hath  the  hearts  of 
kings  in  his  hand,  and  turneth  them  as  the  riv- 
ers of  water,'  Prov.  xxi.  1.  It  is  he  who  '  giveth 
kings  in  his  anger,  and  taketh  them  away  in 
his  wrath,'  Hos.  xiii.  11.   It  is  he  who  maketh 

*  the  Assyrian  the  rod  of  his  anger,'  Isa.  x.  5. 
'  Herod  and  Pilate,  the  Gentiles  and  the  peo- 
ple of  Israel,  did  what  his  hand  and  his  counsel 
determined  before  to  be  done,'  Acts  iv. 
27,  28. 

When  we  live,  when  we  die,  he  is  there. 
He  influenceth  life  and  death.  '  Man's  days 
are  determined,  the  number  of  his  months  are 
with  him,  he  has  appointed  his  bounds  that 
he  cannot  pass,'  Job  xiv.  5.  '  To  God  the  Lord 
belong  the  issues  from  death,'  Ps.  Ixviii.  20. 

*  He  bringeth  down  to  the  grave,  and  bringeth 
up,'  2  Sam.  ii.  6. 

He  influences  the  least  events  as  well  as 
the  most  considerable.  Not  being  fatigued 
•with  the  care  of  great  things,  he  can  occupy 
himself  about  the  smallest  without  prejudice 
to  the  rest ;  '  number  the  hairs  of  our  heads,' 
and  not  let  even  '  a  sparrow  fall  without  his 
will,'  Matt.  x.  29,  30. 

But  3  .When  God  communicates  himself  to 
all,  when  he  thus  acts  on  all,  when  he  diffii- 
seth  himself  thus  through  the  whole,  he  re- 
lates all  to  his  own  designs,  and  makes  all 
serve  his  own  counsels  :  and  this  is  our  third 
idea  of  his  immensity  and  omnipresence.  God 
is  present  with  all,  because  he  directs  all. 

Doth  he  call  creatures  into  existence  .''  it  is 
to  manifest  his  perfections.  It  is  to  have  sub- 
jects on  whom  he  may  shower  his  favours  ; 
it  is,  as  it  were,  to  go  out  of  himself,  and  to 
form  through  the  whole  universe  a  concert'* 
resounding  the  Creator's  existence  and  glory. 
'  For  the  invisible  things  of  God,  even  his 
eternal  power  and  Godhead,  are  understood 
by  the  things  that  are  made,'  Rom.  i.  20. 
'  The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,  and 
the  firmament  showeth  his  handy-work.  Day 
unto  day  utteretli  speech,  night  unto  night 
showeth  knowledge.  There  is  no  speech  nor 
language  where  their  voice  is  not  heard,' 
Ps.  xix.  1—3. 

Doth  he  preserve  creatures .''  it  is  to  answer 
Jiis  own  designs,  the  depth  of  which  no  finite 
mind  can  fathom  ;  but  designs  which  we  shall 
one  day  know,  and  adraire  his  wisdom  when 
we  know  them,  as  we  adore  it  now,  though 
we  know  them  not. 

Doth  he  send  plagues,  wars,  famines  ?  it  is 
to  make  these  feel  his  justice  who  have  abu- 
sed his  goodness,  it  is  to  avenge  the  violation 
of  his  law,  the  contempt  of  his  gospel,  th«  for- 
getting and  the  forsaking  of  the  interest  of 
his  church. 

Doth  he  afford  us  prosperity  ?  it  is  to '  draw 
us  with  the  bands  of  love,'  Hos.  xi.  4  ;  it  is  to 
reveal  himself  to  us  by  that  love  which  is  his 
essence  ;  it  is  to  engage  us  to  imitate  him, 
who  '  never  leaves  himself  without  witness  in 
doing  good,'  Acts  xiv.  17. 

Doth  he  impart  knowledge  to  us  .'  it  is  to 
discover  tlie  sniircs  that  surround  us,  tlie  mis- 
eries that  threaten  us,  the  origin  from  which 


we  sprang,  the  course  of  hfe  that  we  should 
follow,  and  the  end  at  which  we  should  aim. 
Doth  he  communicate  virtues .''  it  is  to  ani- 
mate us  in  our  race  ;  it  is  to  convince  us  that 
there  is  a  mighty  arm  to  raise  us  from  the 
abyss  into  which  our  natural  corruption  hath 
plunged  us ;  it  is  that  we  may  '  work  out  our 
own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  know- 
ing that  God  worketh  in  us  to  will  and  to  do 
of  his  own  good  pleasure,'  Phil.  ii.  12,  13. 

Doth  he  send  us  error .-'  it  is  to  make  us 
respect  that  truth  we  have  resisted. 

Doth  he  abandon  us  to  our  vices  ?  it  is  to 
punish  us  for  some  other  vices  which  we  have 
committed  voluntarily  and  freely,  so  that,  if 
we  could  comprehend  it,  his  love  for  holiness 
never  appears  more  clearly,  than  when  he 
abandons  men  to  vice  in  this  manner. 

Doth  he  raise  up  kings  ?  it  is  always  to  ob- 
lige them  to  administer  justice,  to  protect  the 
widow  and  the  orphan,  to  maintain  order  and 
religion.  Yet,  he  often  permits  them  to  vio- 
late equity,  to  oppress  their  people,  and  to 
become  the  scourges  of  his  anger.  By  them 
he  frequently  teacheth  us  how  little  account 
he  makes  of  human  grandeurs  ;  seeing  he  be- 
stows them  sometimes  upon  unworthy  men, 
upon  men  allured  by  voluptuousness,  govern- 
ed by  ambition,  and  dazzled  with  their  own 
glory ;  upon  men  who  ridicule  piety,  sell 
their  consciences,  negotiate  faith  and  religion, 
sacrificing  the  souls  of  their  children  to  the 
infamous  passions  that  govern  themselves. 

Doth  he  prolong  our  life  ?  it  is  because  he 
'  is  long  suffering  to  us,'  2  Pet.  iii.  9  ;  it  is  be- 
cause he  opens  in  our  favour  '  the  riches  of 
his  goodness  and  forbearance,  to  lead  us  to 
repentance,'  Rom.  ii.  4. 

Doth  he  call  us  to  die  .''  it  is  to  open  those 
eternal  books  in  which  our  actions  are  regis- 
t  ered ;  it  is  to  gather  our  souls  into  his  bosom, 
'  to  bind  them  up  in  the  bundle  of  life,'  1  Sam. 
xxv.  29 ;  to  mix  them  with  the  ransomed 
armies  of  all  '  nations,  tongues,  and  people," 
Rev.  vii.  9. 

Such  are  our  ideas  of  the  omnipresence  of 
God.  Thus  God  seeth  all,  influenceth  all, 
directeth  all.  In  this  sense  we  are  to  under- 
stand this  magnificent  language  of  Scripture. 
'  Will  God  indeed  dwell  on  the  earth ;  behold 
the  heaven,  and  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  con- 
tain thee.'  1  Kings  viii.  27.  Thus  saith  the  Lord, 
'  The  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  the  earth  is 
my  footstool.  Where  is  the  house  that  ye 
build  unto  me  ?  do  not  I  fill  heaven  and  earth, 
saith  the  Lord.''  Isa.  Ixvi.  1.  'Am  la  God  at 
hand,  and  not  a  God  afar  oft'.'  Can  any  hide 
himself  in  secret  places  that  I  shall  not  see 
him.''  Jer.  xxiii.  23,  24.  This  is  what  the 
heathens  had  a  glimpse  of,  when  they  said, 
that  God  was  a  circle,  the  centre  of  which 
was  every  where,  and  its  circumference  no 
where.  That  all  things  were  full  of  Jupiter. 
That  he  filled  all  his  works.  That,  fly'whith- 
er  we  would,  we  were  always  before  his  eyes. 
This  is  what  the  followers  of  Mohammed 
meant,  when  tliey  said,  that  where,  there 
were  two  persons,  God  made  the  third ;  where 
there  were  three  God  made  the  fourth. 
Above  all,  this  was  our  prophet's  meaning 
throughout  the  Psalm,  a  part  of  which  we 
have  explained.  '  O  Lord,  thou  hast  searched 
me  and  known  me.  Thou  knowest  my  down- 


S«H.  III.] 


THE  OMNIPRESENCE  OF  GOD. 


69 


sitting  and  mine  up-rising,  thou  understand- 
est  my  thouglits  afar  off.  Thou  compassest 
my  path  and  my  lying  down,  and  art  acquaint- 
ed with  all  my  ways.  For  there  is  not  a  word 
in  my  tongue,  but  lo,  O  Lord,  thou  knowest 
it  altogether.  Thou  hast  beset  me  behind 
and  before,  and  laid  thy  hand  upon  me.  Such 
knowledge  is  too  wonderful  for  me,  I  cannot 
attain  unto  it.  Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy 
Spirit.'  or  whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  pres- 
ence .'  If  I  ascend  up  into  heaven,  thou  art 
there.  If  I  make  my  bed  in  hell,  behold  thou 
art  there.  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morn- 
ing, and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
sea;  even  there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me,  and 
thy  right  hand  shall  hold  me.  If  I  say,  Surely 
the  darkness  shall  cover  me  ;  even  the  night 
shall  be  a  light  about  me.  Yea,  the  darkness 
hideth  not  from  thee ;  but  the  night  shineth 
as  the  day :  the  darkness  and  the  light  are 
both  alike  to  thee,'  ver.  1,  and  following. 

But  perhaps,  during  the  course  of  this  med- 
itation, ye  may  have  murmured  at  our  pre- 
senting an  object  of  which  all  the  preaching 
in  the  world  can  give  you  but  imperfect  ideas. 
Suspend  your  judgments,  we  are  going  to 
show  you  whither  this  discourse,  all  glimmer- 
ing as  it  is,  ought  to  conduct  you.  Ye  are 
going  to  see  what  salutary  consequences  fol- 
low our  efforts,  even  the  weak  efforts  that  we 
have  been  making  to  explain  the  grandeur 
and  omnipresence  of  God.  Let  us  pass  to  the 
conclusion,  the  chief  design  of  this  discourse. 
1.  Our  first  reflection  is  on  the  difficulties 
that  we  meet  with  in  fixing  our  minds  on 
such  subjects  as  we  have  been  hearing.  Ye 
have  doubtless  experienced,  if  ye  have  endea- 
voured to  follow  us,  that  ye  are  weary,  and 
wander  when  ye  would  go  beyond  matter. 
Our  minds  find  almost  nothing  real,  where 
they  meet  with  nothing  sensible.  As  if  the 
whole  essence  of  beings  were  corporeal,  the 
mind  loses  its  way  when  it  ceases  to  be  direct- 
ed by  bodies,  and  it  needs  the  help  of  imagi- 
nation to  represent  even  tliose  things  which 
are  not  susceptible  of  images  ;  and  yet  what- 
ever is  most  grand  and  noble  in  the  nature  .f 
beings  is  spirit.  The  sublimest  objects,  angels 
who  are  continually  before  God,  scraphims 
who  cover  their  faces  in  his  presence,  cheru- 
bims  who  are  the  ministers  of  his  will,  'thou- 
sand thousands  which  minister  unto  him,  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousand  which  stand  be- 
fore him,'  Isa.  vi.  2.  Dan.  vii.  10;  what  is 
most  glorious  in  man,  what  elevates  him 
above  other  animals,  a  soul  made  in  the  image 
of  God  himself;  the  Being  of  beings,  the 
Sovereign  Beauty ;  all  these  beings  are  spir- 
itual, abstract,  free  from  sense  and  matter. 
Moreover,  what  pleases  and  enchants  us  in  bo- 
dies, even  that  comes  from  a  subject,  abstract, 
spiritual  and  incorporeal.  Without  your  soul, 
aliments  have  no  taste,  flowers  no  smell,  the 
earth  no  enamel,  fire  no  heat,  the  stars  no 
brilliancy,  the  sun  no  light.  Matter  of  itself 
is  void,  and  gross,  destitute  of  all  the  qualities 
with  which  our  imagination  clothes  it,  and 
which  are  proper  to  our  souls.  What  ought 
we  to  conclude  from  this  reflection .'  My 
brethren,  have  ye  any  idea  of  your  dignity, 
and  primitive  grandeur  .'  Have  ye  yet  some 
few  faint  resemblances  of  beings  formed  in 
the  Creator's  image  ?  ye  ought,  feeble  as  ye 
K 


are,  confined  as  ye  are  in  a  manner  to  matter. 
ye  should  deplore  your  misery,  ye  should 
groan  under  that  necessity,  which,  in  some 
sort,  confounds  your  soul  with  a  little  dust ; 
ye  should  sigh  after  that  happy  state  in  which 
your  rapid,  free,  and  unclogged  souls  shall 
meditate  like  themselves.  This  is  the  first 
duty  that  we  would  prescribe  to  you. 

2.  Our  next  reflection  is  on  the  majesty  of 
our  religion.  That  must  certainly  be  thought 
the  true  religion  which  gives  us  the  grandest 
ideas  of  God.  Let  our  religion  be  judged  by 
this  rule.  Where  do  we  see  the  attributes  of 
the  Supreme  Being  placed  in  so  clear  a  light  ? 
what  can  be  more  noble  than  this  idea  of  God .'' 
what  can  be  conceived  more  sublime  than  a 
Being  whom  nothing  escapes,  before  whom 
'  all  things  are  naked  and  open,'  Heb.  iv.  13. ; 
who,  by  one  single  look,  fully  comprehends 
all  beings  past,  present,  and  to  come  ;  all  that 
do  exist,  all  that  possibly  can  exist  .'  who 
thinks  in  the  same  instant,  with  equal  facili- 
ty on  bodies  and  spirits,  on  all  the  dimension« 
of  time  and  of  matter  .'  What  more  noble 
can  be  conceived  than  a  Being  who  imparts 
himself  to  all,  diffuses  himself  through  all, 
influences  all,  gives  life  and  motion  to  all  ? 
What  can  be  conceived  more  noble  than  a 
Beincr  who  directs  the  conduct  of  the  whole 
universe,  who  knows  how  to  make  all  concur 
to  his  designs,  who  knows  how  to  relate  alike 
to  the  laws  of  order  and  equity,  the  virtues 
of  the  righteous,  the  vices  of  the  wicked,  the 
praises  of  the  happy,  the  blasphemies  of  the 
victims  sacrificed  to  his  vengeance  in  hell  ? 
When  we  find  in  any  heathen  philosopher, 
amidst  a  thousand  false  notions,  amidst  a 
thousand  wild  imaginations,  some  few  leaves 
of  the  flowers  with  which  our  Bibles  are 
strewed,  we  are  ready  to  cry  a  miracle,  & 
miracle  !  we  transmit  these  shreds  of  the 
Deity  (if  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak  so)  to  the 
most  distant  posterity,  and  these  ideas,  all 
maimed,  and  all  defiled  as  they  are,  procure 
their  authors  an  immortal  reputation.  On  this 
principle,  what  respect,  what  veneration, 
what  deference  ought  we  to  have  for  the  pa- 
triarchs and  the  prophets,  for  the  Evangelists 
"xnA  the  apostles,  who  spoke  of  God  in  so  su- 
blime a  manner  !  But  bo  not  surprised  at 
their  superiority  over  the  great  pagan  ge- 
niuses ;  if  the  biblical  writers,  like  them,  had 
been  guided  only  by  human  reason,  like  them 
they  would  have  wandered  too.  If  they  spoke 
so  nobly  of  God,  it  was  because  they  had  re- 
ceived that  '  spirit  who  searcheth  all  things, 
yea,  the  deep  things  of  God,'  1  Cor.  ii.  10.  It 
was  because  '  all  Scripture  was  given  by  in- 
spiration,'  2  Tim.  iii.  16.  It  was  because  '  the 
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,'  2  Pet.  i.  21. 
3.  Make  a  third  reflection.  This  grandeur 
of  God  removes  the  greatest  stumbling- 
blocks  that  skeptics  and  infidels  pretend  to 
meet  with  in  religion.  It  justifies  all  those 
dark  mysteries  which  are  above  the  compre- 
hension of  our  feeble  reason.  We  would  not 
make  use  of  this  reflection  to  open  a  way  for 
human  fancies,  and  to  authorize  every  thing 
that  is  presented  to  us  under  the  idea  of  the 
marvellous.  All  doctrines  that  are  incompre- 
hensible are  not  divine,  nor  ought  we  to  em- 


70 


THE  OMNIPRESENCE  OP  GOD. 


[Ser.  III. 


brace  any  opinion  merely  because  it  is  be- 
yond our  knowledge.  But  wlien  a  religion, 
in  other  respects,  hath  good  guarantees,  when 
we  have  good  arguments  to  prove  tliat  such 
a  revelation  comes  from  heaven,  when  we 
certainly  know  that  it  is  God  who  speaks, 
ought  we  to  be  surprised  if  ideas  of  God, 
which  conle  so  fully  authenticated,  absorb 
and  confound  us  ?  I  freely  grant,  that  liad  I 
consulted  my  own  reason  only,  I  could  not 
have  discovered  some  mysteries  of  the  gos- 
pel. Nevertheless,  when  I  think  on  the  gran- 
deur of  God,  when  I  cast  my  eyes  on  that 
vast  ocean,  when  I  consider  that  immense  all, 
nothing  astonishes  me.  nothing  stumbles  me, 
nothing  seems  to  me  inadmissible,  how  in- 
comprehensible soever  it  may  be.  When 
the  subject  is  divine,  I  am  ready  to  believe 
all,  to  admit  all,  to  receive  all ;  provided  I 
be  convinced  that  it  is  God  himself  who 
speaks  to  me,  or  any  one  on  his  part.  After 
this  I  am  no  more  astonished  that  there  are 
three  distinct  persons  in  one  divine  essence  ; 
one  God,  and  yet  a  Father,  a  Son,  and  a 
Holy  Ghost.  After  this  I  am  no  more  asto- 
nished that  God  foresees  all  without  forc- 
ing any ;  permits  sin  without  forcing  the 
sinner ;  ordains  free  and  intelligent  creatures 
to  such  and  such  ends,  yet  without  destroying 
their  intelligence,  or  their  liberty.  After  this 
I  am  no  more  astonished,  that  the  justice  of 
God  required  a  satisfaction  proportional  to 
his  greatness,  that  his  own  love  hath  provided 
that  satisfaction,  and  that  God,  from  the 
abundance  of  his  compassion,  designed  the 
mystery  of  an  incarnate  God  ;  a  mystery 
which  angels  admire  while  skeptics  oppose  ; 
a  mystery  which  absorbs  human  reason,  but 
which  fills  all  heaven  with  songs  of  praise  ;  a 
mystery  which  is  the  '  great  mystery,'  1  Tim. 
iii.  IG,  by  excellence,  but  the  greatness  of 
which  nothing  should  make  us  reject,  since 
religion  proposeth  it  as  the  grand  effort  of  the 
wisdom  of  the  incomprehensible  God,  and 
commandeth  us  to  receive  it  on  the  testimo- 
ny of  the  incomprehensible  God  himself. 
Either  religion  must  tell  us  nothing  about 
God,  or  what  it  tells  us  must  be  beyond  our 
capacities,  and,  iif  digpovering  even  the  bor- 
ders of  this  immense  ocean,  it  must  needs 
exhibit  a  vast  extent  ^^  which  our  feeble  eyes 
are  lost.  But  what  surprises  me,  what  stum- 
bles me,  what  frightens  me,  is  to  see  a  dimi- 
Iiutive  creature,  a  contemptible  man,  a  little 
ray  of  light  glimmering  through  a  few  feeble 
organs,  controvert  a  point  with  the  Supreme 
Being,  oppose  that  Intelligence  who  sitteth 
at  the  helm  of  the  worid  ;  question  what  he 
affirms,  dispute  what  he  determines,  appeal 
from  his  decisions,  and,  even  after  God  hath 
given  evidence,  reject  all  doctrines  that  arc 
Beyond  his  capacity.  Enter  into  thy  nothing- 
ness, mortal  creature.  What  madness  ani- 
mates thee  .■'  How  durst  thou  pretend,  thou 
who  art  but  a  point,  tliou  whose  essence  is 
but  an  atom,  to  measure  thyself  with  the  Su- 
preme Being,  with  him  who  fills  heaven  and 
earth,  with  him  whom  '  heaven,  the  heaven 
of  heavens  cannot  contain  ?'  1  Kings  viii.  27. 
'  Canst  thou  by  searcliing  find  out  God  ? 
Canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty  to  perfec- 
tion P  high  as  heaven,  what  canst  thou  do  .^ 
deeper  tlian  hell,  what  canst  thou  know.'' 


Job  xi.  7.  '  He  stretcheth  out  the  north  over 
the  empty  place,  and  hangeth  the  earth  upon 
nothing.  He  bindeth  up  the  waters  in  his 
thick  clouds,  the  pillars  of  heaven  tremble, 
and  are  astonished  at  his  reproof  Lo,  these 
are  parts  of  his  ways,  but  how  little  a  portion 
is  heard  of  him  ?  but  the  thunder  of  his  power 
who  can  understand  ?'  Job  xxvi.  7.  11.  14. 
'  Gird  up  now  thy  loins  like  a  man ;  for  I  will 
demand  of  thee,  and  answer  thou  me.  Where 
wast  thou  when  I  laid  the  foundations  of  the 
earth .''  declare,  if  thou  hast  understanding. 
Who  hath  laid  the  measures  thereof.''  who 
hath  stretched  the  line  upon  it.''  whereupon 
are  the  foundations  thereof  fastened .''  who 
laid  the  corner-stone  thereof,  when  the  morn- 
ing-stars sang  together,  and  all  the  sons  of 
God  shouted  for  joy .'  Who  shut  up  the  sea 
with  doors,  when  I  made  the  cloud  the  gar- 
ment thereof,  and  thick  darkness  a  swaddling 
band  for  it .''  when  I  brake  up  for  it  my  de- 
creed place,  and  set  bars  and  doors,  and  said, 
Hitherto  shalt  thou  come  and  no  farther  :  and 
here  shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed  ?'  Job 
xxxviii.  3 — 5,  &c.  '  He  that  reproveth  God, 
let  him  answer  this.  O  Lord,  such  know- 
ledge is  too  wonderful  for  me  :  it  is  too  high, 
I  cannot  attain  unto  it !'  Job  xl.  2. 

4.  But,  my  brethren,  shall  these  be  the  only 
inferences  from  our  text .''  shall  we  reap  only 
speculations  from  this  discourse .''  shall  we 
only  believe,  admire,  and  exclaim  .■*  Ah !  from 
this  idea  of  God  I  see  all  the  virtues  issue 
which  religion  prescribes !  If  such  be  the 
grandeur  of  the  God  whom  I  adore,  misera- 
ble wretch  !  what  ought  my  repentance  to 
be  !  I,  a  contemptible  worm,  I,  a  creature 
whom  God  could  tread  beneath  his  feet,  and 
crush  into  dust  by  a  single  act  of  his  will,  I 
have  rebelled  against  the  great  God,  I  have 
endeavoured  to  provoke  him  to  jealousy,  as  if 
I  had  been  stronger  than  he,  1  Cor.  x.  22.  I 
have  insulted  that  Majesty  which  the  angels  of 
God  adore ;  I  have  attacked  God,  with  madnesg 
and  boldness,  on  his  throne,  and  in  his  em- 
pire. Is  it  possible  to  feel  remorse  too  cutr 
ting  for  sins  which  the  grandeur  of  the  ofr 
fended,  and  the  littleness  of  the  offender, 
make  so  very  atrocious .'' 

5.  If  such  be  the  grandeur  of  God,  what 
should  our  humility  be  !  Grandees  of  the 
world,  mortal  divinities,  who  swell  with  va^ 
nity  in  the  presence  of  God,  oppose  your- 
selves to  the  immense  God.  Behold  his  eter- 
nal ideas,  his  infinite  knowledge,  his  general 
influence,  his  universal  direction  ;  enter  hia 
immense  ocean  of  perfections  and  virtues, 
what  are  ye .'  a  grain  of  dust,  a  point,  an 
atom,  a  nothing  ! 

G.  If  such  be  the  grandeur  of  God,  what 
ought  our  confidence  to  be  !  '  If  God  be  for 
us,  who  can  be  against  us.'"  Rom.  viii.  31, 
Poor  creature,  tossed  about  the  Avorld,  as  by 
so  many  winds,  by  hunger,  by  sickness,  by 
persecution,  by  misery,  by  nakedness,  by  ex- 
ile ;  fear  not  in  a  vessel  of  wliich  God  himself 
is  the  pilot. 

7.  But  above  all,  if  such  be  the  grandeur 
of  God,  if  God  be  every  where  present,  what 
should  our  vigilance  be  !  and,  to  return  to  the 
idea  with  which  we  began,  what  impression 
should  this  thought  make  on  reasonable  souls ! 
(.iod  seeth  me.    *  When  thou  wast  under  the 


Ber.  III.] 


THE  OMNIPRESENCE  OP  GOD. 


71 


fig-tree/  said  Jesus  Christ  to  Natiianael,  '  I 
saw  thee,'  John  i.  48.  See  Eccles.  ii.  23—25. 
We  do  not  know  what  Jesus  Christ  saw  un- 
der the  fig-tree,  nor  is  it  necessary  now  to  in- 
quire :  but  it  was  certainly  something  which, 
Nathanael  Was  fully  persuaded,  no  mortal  eye 
had  seen.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  Jesus  Christ 
had  uttered  these  words,  he  believed,  and 
(Said,  '  Rabbi,  thou  art  the  Christ,  the  son  of 
the  living  God.'  My  brethren,  God  useth  the 
same  language  to  each  of  you  to-day  :  '  when 
thou  wast  under  the  fig-tree,  I  saw  thee.' 

Thou  hypocrite,  when,  wrapped  in  a  veil 
of  religion,  embellished  with  exterior  piety, 
thou  concealedst  an  impious  heart,  and  didst 
endeavour  to  impose  on  God  and  man,  /  smo 
thee.  I  penetrated  all  those  labyrinths,  I  dis- 
sipated all  those  darknesses,  I  dived  into  all 
thy  deep  designs. 

Thou  worldling,  who,  with  a  prudence  tru- 
ly infefnal,  hast  the  art  of  giving  a  beautiful 
tint  to  the  most  odious  objects :  who  appear- 
est  not  to  hate  thy  neighbour,  because  thou 
dost  not  openly  attack  him  ;  not  to  falsify  thy 
promise,  because  thou  hast  the  art  of  eluding 
it ;  not  to  oppress  thy  dependants,  because 
thou  knowest  how  to  impose  silence  on  them : 
/  saw  thee,  when  thou  gavest  those  secret 
stabs,  when  thou  didst  receive  bribes,  and 
didst  accumulate  those  wages  of  unrighteous- 
ness, which  cry  for  vengeance  against  thee. 

Thou  slave  to  sensuality,  ashamed  of  thine 
excesses  before  the  face  of  the  sun,  /  saw 
thee,  when,  with  bars  and  bolts,  with  obscu- 
rity and  darkness,  and  complicated  precau- 
tions, thou  didst  hide  thyself  from  the  eyes  of 
men,  '  defile  the  temple  of  God,  and  make 
the  members  of  Christ  the  members  of  a  har- 
lot,' 1  Cor.  vi.  15. 

My  brethren,  the  discourses,  which  we 
usually  preach  to  you,  absorb  your  minds  in  a 
multitude  of  ideas.    A  collection  of  moral 


ideas,  perhaps,  confound  instead  of  instruct- 
ing you,  and  when  we  attempt  to  engage  you 
in  too  many  reflections,  ye  enter  really  into 
none.  Behold  an  epitome  of  rehgion.  Be- 
hold a  morality  in  three  words.  Return  to 
your  houses,  and  every  where  carry  this  re- 
flection with  you,  God  secth  me,  God  seeth 
vie.  To  all  the  wiles  of  the  devil,  to  all  the 
snares  of  the  world,  to  all  the  baits  of  cupidi- 
ty, oppose  this  reflection,  God  seeth  me.  If^ 
clothed  with  a  human  form,  he  were  always 
in  your  path,  were  he  to  follow  you  to  every 
place,  were  he  always  before  you  with  his 
majestic  face,  with  eyes  flashing  with  light- 
ning, with  looks  inspiring  terror,  dare  ye 
before  his  august  presence  give  a  loose  to 
your  passions .''  But  ye  have  been  hearing 
that  his  majestic  face  is  every  where,  those 
sparkling  eyes  do  inspect  you  in  every  place, 
those  terrible  looks  do  consider  you  every 
where.  Particularly  in  the  ensuing  week, 
while  ye  are  preparing  for  the  Lord's  supper, 
recollect  this.  Let  each  examine  his  own 
heart,  and  endeavour  to  search  into  his  con- 
science, where  he  may  discover  so  much 
weakness,  so  much  corruption,  so  much  hard- 
ness, so  many  unclean  sources  overfk)"wing 
with  so  many  excesses,  and  let  this-  idea 
strike  each  of  you,  God  seeth  me.  God  seeth- 
me,  as  I  see  myself,  unclean,  ungrateful,  and 
rebellious.  O  may  this  idea  produce  contri- 
tion and  sorrow,  a  just  remorse  and  a  sound 
conversion,  a  holy  and  a  fervent  communion, 
crowned  with  graces  and  virtues.  Happy,  if, 
after  our  examination,  we  have  a  new  heart  ! 
a  heart  agreeable  to  those  eyes  that  search 
and  try  it  I  Happy,  if,  after  our  communion, 
after  a  new  examination,  we  can  say  with 
the  prophet,  '  O  Lord,  thou  hast  proved  mine 
heart,  thou  hast  tried  me,  and  hast  found  no- 
thing,' Ps.  xvii.  3.  So  be  it.  To  God  be  ho- 
nour and  glory  for  ever.    Amen. 


SERMON  IV. 


THE  GRANDEUR  OF  GOD- 


ISAIAH  xl.  12 — 28. 

Who  hath  measured  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  ?  aud  meted  out  heaven  with  a  span, 
and  comprehended  the  dust  of  the  earth  in  a  measure,  and  weighed  the  mountains  in  scales, 
and  the  hills  in  a  balance  ?  Who  hath  directed  the  spirit  of  the  Lord,  or  being  his  counsellor 
hath  taught  him  ?  With  whom  took  he  counsel,  and  tcho  instructed  him,,  and  taught  him  in 
the  path  of  judgment,  and  taught  him  knowledge,  and  shoiced  to  him  the  7cay  of  understand- 
ing ?  Behold,  the  nations  are  as  a  drop  of  a  bucket,  and  are  counted  as  the  small  dust  of  the 
balance ;  behold,  he  taketh  up  the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing.  And  Lebanon  is  not  sufficient 
to  burn,  nor  the  beasts  thereof  sufficient  for  a  burnt-offering.  Jill  nations  before  him  are  as 
nothing,  and  they  are  counted  to  him  less  than  nothing,  and.  vanity.  To  whom  then  tcill  he 
liken  God  ?  or  what  likeness  icill  ye  compare  unto  him  ?  The  workman  melteth  a  graven 
image,  and  the  goldsmith  spreadcth  it  over  loith  gold,  and  casteth  silver  chains.  He  that  is 
so  impoverished  that  he  hath  no  oblation,  chooseth  a  tree  that  will  not  rot  ;  he  seeketh  unto 
him  a  cunning  loorkman  to  prepare  a  graven  image  that  shall  not  be  moved.  Have  ye  not 
known  ?  have  ye  not  heard  ?  Hath  it  not  been  told  you  from  the  beginning  ?  Have  ye  not 
understood  from  the  foundations  of  the  earth  9  It  is  he  that  sittcth  upon  the  circle  of  the 
earth,  and  the  inhabitants  thereof  are  as  grasshoppers  ;  that  stretcheth  out  the  heavens  as  a 
curtain,  and  spreadcth  them  out  as  a  tent  to  dwell  in  :  that  bringeth  the  princes  to  nothing  ; 
he  maketk  the  judges  of  the  earth  as  vanity.  Yea,  they  shall  not  be  planted,  yea,  they  shall 
not  be  soicn,  yea,  their  stock  shall  not  take  root  in  the  earth  :  and  he  shall  also  blow  upon 
them,  and  they  shall  icither,  and  the  ichirlioind  shall  take  them  away  as  stubble.  To  zchom 
then  icill  ye  liken  me,  or  shall  I  be  equal  ?  saith  the  Holy  One.  Lift  up  your  eyes  on  high, 
and  behold  who  hath  created  these  things,  that  bringeth  out  their  host  by  number  :  he  calleth 
them  all  by  names,  by  the  greatness  of  his  might,  for  that  he  is  strong  in  power,  not  one 
faileth.  Why  say  est  thou,  O  Jacob,  and  speakcst,  O  Israel ;  My  way  is  hid  from  the  Lord, 
and  my  judgment  is  passed  over  from  my  God  ?  hast  thou  not  known  ?  hast  thou  not  heard 
that  the  Lord  is  the  everlasting  God  9 


M.  HE  words,  the  lofty  words  of  the  text,  re- 
t[uire  two  sorts  of  observations :  The  first  are 
necessary  to  explain  and  confirm  the  pro- 
phet's notions  of  God ;  the  second  to  deter- 
mine and  to  enforce  his  design  in  describing 
the  Deity  with  so  much  pomp. 

The  prophet's  notions  of  God  are  diffused 
through  all  the  verses  of  the  text.  '  Who  hath 
measured  the  waters  in  thehoUow  of  his  hand, 
and  meted  out  heaven  with  a  span,  and  com- 
prehended the  dust  of  the  earth  in  a  measure  ? 
Who  hath  weighed  the  mountains  in  scales, 
and  the  hills  in  a  balance  .'  Behold,  the  nations 
are  as  the  drop  of  a  bucket.  Behold,  he  taketh 
up  the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing.  It  is  he 
that  sitteth  upon  the  circle  of  the  earth,  and 
the  inhabitants  thereof  are  as  grasshoppers.' 

The  prophet's  design  in  describing  the 
Deity  with  so  much  magnificence  is  to  dis- 
countenance idolatry,  of  which  there  are  two 
sorts.  The  first,  I  call  religious  idolatry, 
which  consists  in  rendering  that  religious 
worship  to  a  creature,  whicli  is  due  to  none 
but  God.  The  second,  I  call  moral  idolatry, 
which  consists  in  distrusting  the  promises  of 
f^od  in  dangerous  crises,  and  in  expecting 
that  assistance  from  men  which  cannot  be 
expected  from  God.  In  order  to  discounte- 
nance idolatry  in  religion,  the  prophet  con- 
tents himself  with  describin-i  ir  'The  work- 
man melteth  a  graven  image,  the  goldsmith 
spreadeth  it  over  with  gold.' 

For  the  purpose  of  discrediting  idolatry  in 
morals,  he  opposeth  the  grandeur  of  God  to 
the  most  grand  objects  among  men,  I  mean 
earthly  kings.      'God  (saith  the    propiiet) 


bringeth  the  princes  to  nothing,  he  shall  blow 
upon  them,  and  the  whirlwind  shall  takethera 
away  as  stubble.  Why  sayest  thou,  O  Jacob, 
and  speakest,  O  Israel ;  My  way  is  hid  from 
the  Lord,  and  my  judgment  is  passed  over 
from  my  God .''  and  so  on. 

This  subject  may  seem  perhaps  too  copious 
for  one  discourse,  however,  it  will  not  exceed 
the  limits  of  this  ;  and  we  will  venture  to  de- 
tain you  a  moment  before  we  attend  to  the 
matter,  in  remarking  the  manner,  that  is,  the 
style  of  our  prophet,  and  the  expressive  sub- 
limity of  our  text.  It  is  a  composition,  which 
not  only  surpasses  the  finest  passages  of  the 
most  celebrated  profane  authors,  but  perhaps 
exceeds  the  loftiest  parts  of  the  holy  Scrip- 
tures. 

'  Who  hath  measured  the  waters  in  the  hol- 
low of  his  hand  .'  Who  hath  meted  out  heaven 
with  a  span  .'  Who  hath  comprehended  the 
dust  of  the  earth  in  a  measure.'  Who  hath 
weighed  the  mountains  in  scales,  and  the 
hills  in  a  balance  .'  All  nations  before  him  are 
as  the  drop  of  a  bucket.  He  taketh  up  the 
isles  as  a  very  little  thing.  He  sitteth  upon 
the  circle  of  the  earth,  and  the  inhabitants 
thereof  arc  as  grasshoppers.'  What  loftiness 
of  expression  !  Tiie  deference  that  we  pay  to 
the  sacred  writers  is  not  founded  on  the  beauty 
of  their  diction.  They  do  not  affect  to  come 
to  us  '  with  the  enticing  words  of  man's  wis- 
dom,' 1  Cor.  ii.  4.  We  cannot  help  observing, 
however,  in  some  of  their  writings,  the  most 
perfect  models  of  eloquence.  God  seems  to 
iiave  dispensed  talents  of  this  kind,  in  the  same 
manner  as  he  has  sometimes  bestowed  tem- 


Seb.  IV.] 


THE  GRANDEUR  OF  GOD. 


73 


poral  blessings  of  another  kind.  Riches  and 
grandeurs  are  too  mean,  and  too  unsatisfying, 
to  constitute  the  felicity  of  a  creature  formed 
in  the  image  of  God.  Immortal  men,  who 
are  called  to  participate  fehcity  and  glory 
with  tlieir  God,  are  indifferent  to  the  part 
which  they  act,  during  their  short  existence 
on  the  stage  of  time.  To  them  it  is  a  matter 
of  very  little  importance,  whether  they  occu- 
py the  highest  or  the  lowest,  the  most  con- 
spicuous or  the  most  obscure  posts  in  society. 
It  signifies  but  little  to  them,  whether  they 
ride  in  sumptuous  equipages,  or  walk  on  foot. 
To  them  it  is  a  matter  of  very  little  conse- 
quence, whether  superb  processions  attend 
their  funerals,  or  their  bodies  be  laid  in  their 
graves  without  pomp  or  parade.  Yet,  when  it 
pleases  God  to  signalize  any  by  gifts  of  this 
kind,  he  does  it  like  a  God,  if  ye  will  allow  the 
expression,  he  does  it  so  as  to  show  that  his 
mighty  hands  hold  all  that  can  contribute  to 
ennoble  and  elevate  mankind.  Observe  his 
munificence  to  Solomon.  '  I  have  given  thee 
riches  and  glory,'  said  the  Lord  to  him,  '  so 
that  there  shall  not  be  any  among  the  kings 
like  unto  thee,  neither  after  thee  shall  any 
arise  like  unto  thee,'  1  Kings  iii.  12,  13.  In 
virtue  of  this  promise,  God  loaded  Solomon 
with  temporal  blessings  :  he  gave  him  all.  In 
virtue  of  his  promise,  '  silver  was  no  more 
esteemed  than  stones  in  Jerusalem,'  the  capi- 
tal of  this  favourite  of  heaven,  '  nor  the  cedars 
of  Lebanon  than  the  sycamore  trees  of  the 
plain,'  2  Chron.  ix.  27. 

God  has  observed  the  same  conduct  to  the 
heralds  of  religion,  in  regard  to  the  talents 
that  form  an  orator.  The  truths  which  they 
teach  are  too  serious,  and  too  interesting,  to 
need  the  help  of  ornaments.  The  treasures 
of  religion,  which  God  commits  to  them  are 
60  valuable,  that  it  is  needless  for  us  to  exa- 
mine whether  they  be  presented  to  us  '  in 
earthen  vessels,'  2  Cor.  iv.  7.  But  when  the 
Holy  Spirit  deigns  to  distinguish  any  one  of 
his  servants  by  gifts  of  this  kind,  my  God ! 
with  what  a  rich  profusion  hath  he  the  power 
of  doing  it !  He  fires  the  orator's  imagination 
with  a  flame  altogether  divine  :  he  elevates 
his  ideas  to  the  least  accessible  region  of  the 
universe,  and  dictates  language  above  mortal 
mouths. 

What  kind  of  elocution  can  ye  allege,  of 
which  the  sacred  authors  have  not  given  us 
the  most  perfect  models  ? 

Is  it  the  style  proper  for  history  ?  An  histo- 
rian must  assume,  it  should  seem,  as  many 
different  forms  of  speaking,  as  there  are  dif- 
ferent events  in  the  subjects  of  his  narration. 
And  who  ever  gave  such  beautiful  models  of 
this  style  as  Moses  .''  Witness  these  words, 
which  have  acquired  him  the  eulogium  of  a 
pagan  critic  :*  '  God  said,  Let  there  be  hght, 
and  there  was  light,'  Gen.  i.  3.  Witness  these, 
*  Isaac  said.  My  father  ;  Abraham  answered. 
Here  am  I  my  son.  And  he  said,  Beliold  the 
fire  and  the  wood  ;  but  where  is  the  lamb  for 
a  burnt-offering  .''  And  Abraham  said.  My  son, 
God  will  provide  himself  a  lamb  for  a  burnt- 
offering','  chap.  xxii.  7,  8.  Witness  these  toords. 
'  Then  Joseph  could  not  refrain  himself  before 
all  them  that  stood  by  him,   and  he  cried, 

♦  Longinua,  sect.  ix. 


Cause  every  man  to  go  out  from  me  :  and 
there  stood  no  man  with  him,  while  Joseph 
made  himself  known  unto  his  brethren.  And 
he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  wept,  and  said  unto 
his  brethren,  I  am  Joseph :  doth  my  father 
yet  live  .'  Come  near  to  me,  I  pray  you,  I  am 
Joseph,  your  brother,  whom  ye  sold  into 
Egypt,'  chap.  xlv.  1. 

Is  it  the  tender  style  .'  Who  ever  gave  such 
beautiful  models  as  the  prophet  Jeremiah  ? 
Witness  the  pathetic  descriptions,  and  the  af- 
fecting complaints  in  the  Lamentations  : — 
'  The  ways  of  Zion  mourn,  because  none 
come  to  the  solemn  feasts  :  All  her  gates  are 
desolate  :  her  priests  sigh  :  her  virgins  are 
afflicted  :  and  she  is  in  bitterness.  Is  it  no- 
thing to  you,  all  ye  that  pass  by  .''  behold  and 
see,  if  there  be  any  sorrow  like  unto  my  sor- 
row. For  these  things  I  weep  :  mine  eye, 
mine  eye  runneth  down,'  chap.  i.  4.  12.  16. 

Is  it  a  style  proper  to  terrify  and  confound .' 
Who  ever  gave  more  beautiful  models  of  this 
style  than  Ezckiel  .'  Witness,  among  many 
others,  these  expressions  :  '  How  weak  is 
thine  heart,  saith  the  Lord  God,  seeing  thou 
dost  all  these  things  :  tiie  work  of  an  impe- 
rious whorish  woman  .''  A  wife  that  commit- 
tetli  adultery,  which  taketh  strangers  instead 
of  her  husband  !  They  give  gifts  to  all  whores  : 
but  thou  givest  thy  gifts  to  all  lovers,  and  hirest 
them,  that  they  may  come  unto  tliee  on  every 
side  for  thy  whoredom, 'chap.  xvi.  30.32,  33. 

Above  all,  is  it  the  lofty,  noble,  and  sublime 
style  .'  Whose  models  are  comparable  to  the 
prophet  Isaiah's  .'  Christian  preacher,  thou 
who  studiest  to  convince,  to  persuade,  to  carry 
away  the  hearts  of  the  people  to  whom  God 
hath  sent  thee,  neither  make  Cicero  nor  De- 
mosthenes thy  models  ;  investigate  the  ideas, 
and  appropriate  the  language  of  the  inspired 
writers. — Heat  thine  imagination  at  the  fire 
which  inflamed  them,  and  with  them,  endea- 
vour to  elevate  the  mind  to  the  mansions  of 
God,  to  '  the  light  which  no  man  can  ap- 
proach unto,'  1  Tim.  vi.  16.  Learn  of  these 
great  masters  to  handle  '  the  sword  of  the 
Spirit,'  and  to  manage  '  the  word  of  God 
quick  and  powerful,  even  to  the  dividing 
asunder  of  soul  and  spirit;  and  of  the  joints 
and  marrow, '  Heb.  iv.  12. 

But  when  I  propose  my  text  as  a  pattern 
of  elocution,  far  from  your  minds  be  the  idea 
of  a  trifling  orator's  fiaudful  art,  whose  am- 
bition it  is  to  exceed  his  subject,  and  to  lend 
his  hero  the  virtues  that  he  wants.  The  por- 
trait drawn  by  the  prophet  is  infinitely  infe- 
rior to  his  original.  Ye  will  be  fully  con 
vinced  of  this,  if  ye  attend  to  the  four  follow- 
ing considerations  of  the  grandeurs  of  God  : — 
1.  The  sublimity  of  his  essence.  2.  The 
immensity  of  his  works.  3.  The  efficiency  of 
his  will.  4.  The  magnificence  of  some  of  his 
mighty  acts,  at  certain  periods,  in  favour  of 
his  church. 

First,  The  sublimitij  of  his  essence.  The 
prophet's  mind  was  filled  with  this  object.  It 
is  owing  to  this  that  he  repeats  the  grand  ti- 
tle of  Jehovah,  The  Lord,  which  signifies  / 
am  by  excellence,  and  which  distinguishes, 
by  four  grand  characters,  the  essence  of  God, 
from  the  essence  of  creatures. 

1.  The  essence  of  God  is  independent  in  its 
eoMse.    God  is  a  self-existent  Being.    We 


74 


THE  GRANDEUR  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  IV. 


exist,  but  oura  is  only  a  borrowed  existence, 
for  existence  is  foreign  from  us.  There  was 
time  when  we  were  not,  and  our  origin  is  no- 
thing :  and  as  we  should  cease  to  be  if  God 
were  only  to  give  the  word,  so  his  word  was 
necessary  to  give  us  existence  at  first.  But 
God  exists  of  himself:  existence  is  his  own  ; 
and  he  owes  it  only  to  himself,  and  to  the 
eminence  of  his  own  perfections.  An  idea,  in 
which  it  is  difficult  not  to  lose  one's  self,  and 
which  is  incomprehensible  to  us,  because  it 
relates  to  an  infinite  attribute,  and  because 
all  that  is  infinite  absorbs  a  finite  mind  :  but 
an  idea,  however,  as  true  as  it  is  incompre- 
hensible. The  existence  of  a  mite,  or  of  a 
grain  of  dust,  or  even  of  the  most  diminutive 
being  in  nature,  is  sufficiently  necessary  to 
conduct  us  to  the  independent,  self-existent 
God. 

Even  the  atheist  is  obliged  by  his  own  prin- 
ciples to  agree  with  us  in  this  article  :  I  mean 
the  atheist  of  some  knowledge  ;  the  modern 
atheist.  Let  us  thankfully  own,  my  brethren, 
that  the  improvements  which  a  sound  philo- 
sophy has  produced  in  the  sciences,  liave  been 
communicated  even  to  atheism.  Formerly, 
atheists  could  digest  such  propositions  as 
these  :  The  world  has  not  always  subsisted  ; 
it  was  made  of  nothing  Now  these  proposi- 
tions are  too  gross  for  any  to  hazard  his  repu- 
tation on  the  advancing  of  them.  Indeed,  to 
affirm  that  nothing  has  made  the  world,  is  not 
only  to  advance  an  absurdity,  it  is  to  advance 
a  contradiction.  To  say  that  nothing  has  cre- 
ated the  world,  is  to  say  that  nothing  has  not 
created  the  world  ;  and  to  say  that  nothing 
has  not  created  a  world  which  actually  ex- 
ists, is  to  deny  the  existence  of  the  world.  No 
rules  of  reasoning  require  us  to  answer  peo- 
ple who  contradict  themselves  in  so  glaring  a 
manner  :  and  on  this  article,  we  rank  them 
with  idiots.  Modern  atheists  admit,  as  we 
do,  a  self-existent  being.  All  the  difference 
between  them  and  us  is  this  :  they  attribute 
this  eminent  perfection  to  matter  ;  but  we 
attribute  it  to  God.  The  atheist  derives  his 
existence  from  a  collection  of  atoms,  which  a 
blind  chance  had  assembled  :  we  ascribe  our 
existence  to  a  Being  possessed  of  all  possible 
perfections.  The  atheist  discovers  his  God 
and  Creator  in  a  confused  conjunction  of 
bodies  destitute  of  reason  :  we  find  our  God 
and  Creator  in  the  Supreme  Being,  the  foun- 
tain of  all  existence.  But  both  we  and  the 
atheist  are  obliged  to  own  an  uncreated,  self- 
existent  Being.  And  as  it  is  easy  for  a  rea- 
sonable person  to  decide  the  question,  whe- 
ther this  perfection  agree  to  God  or  to  mat- 
ter, it  is  easy  for  him  also  to  comprehend  that 
God  is  a  self-existent  Being. 

2.  The  essence  of  God  is  universal  in  its 
extent.  God  possesses  the  reality  of  every 
thing  that  exists.  A  celebrated  infidel,  edu- 
cated in  your  provinces,  (would  to  God  none 
were  educated  here  still !)  this  infidel,  I  say, 
invented  a  now  way  of  publishing  atheism, 
by  disguising  it.  I  am  mistaking  in  saying 
new  :  for  it  would  be  easy  to  prove,  that  the 
miserable  Spinoza*  had  not  the  glory  of  in- 


*  Renedict  <le  Spinn/.a  was  born  at  Amsterdam,  and 
was  educated  in  the  same  city  under  Francis  Vandcr 
Ende. 


venting  it ;  he  only  revived  a  pagan  notion.* 
He  says,  that  there  is  a  God,  but  that  this 
God  is  only  the  universality  and  assemblage 
of  creatures  :  that  every  being  is  a  modifica- 
tion of  God  ;  that  the  sun  is  God,  as  giving 
light,  that  aliments  are  God,  as  affording 
nourishment ;  and  so  of  the  rest.  What  a 
system  !  What  an  abominable  system  !  But 
this  system,  all  abominable  as  it  is,  has,  bow- 
ever,  some  truth,  or  some  foundation.  God 
is  not  diffused  through  all  these  different  be- 
ings :  God  is  not  divided ;  but  he  possesses 
all  the  perfections  of  the  universe,  and  it  is 
by  this  notion  of  God,  that  the  true  religion 
is  distinguished  from  superstition.  The  su- 
perstitious, struck  with  the  beauty  of  some 
particular  being,  made  that  being  the  object 
of  their  adoration.  One,  struck  with  the 
beauty  of  the  stars,  said,  that  the  stars  were 
gods.  Another,  astonished  at  the  splendour 
of  the  sun,  said  that  the  sun  was  God.  De- 
mocritus,  surprised  at  the  beauty  of  fire,  said, 
that  God  was  a  material  fire.  Chrysippus, 
amazed  at  the  beauty  of  that  necessity,  which 
causeth  every  thing  to  answer  its  destination, 
said,  that  God  was  fate.  Parmenides,  affect- 
ed with  the  beautiful  extent  of  heaven  and 
earth,  said,  that  God  was  that  e.ttent. 

But  God  is  all  this,  because  he  eminently 
possesses  all  this.  An  ancient  heathen  said 
of  Camillus,  that  he  was  the  whole  Roman 
repubhc  to  him  :  and  Toxaris,  when  he  had 
procured  Anacharsis  the  acquaintance  of  So- 
lon, said  to  him  :  '  This  is  Athens,  this  is 
Greece  ;  thou  art  no  longer  a  stranger,  thou 
hast  seen  the  whole.'  Let  us  sanctify  this 
thought  by  applying  it  to  God.  God  is  all 
the  Roman  republic,  all  Greece,  the  Avhole 
world  and  all  its  inhabitants.  Yes,  he  is  the 
beauty  of  the  stars,  the  brightness  of  the  sun, 
the  purity  of  fire,  the  subtilty  of  ethereal 
matter,  the  expanse  of  heaven,  and  the  law 
of  fate  ;  he  is  the  sagacity  of  the  politician, 
the  penetration  of  the  philosopher,  the  bra- 
very of  the  soldier,  the  undaunted  courage, 
and  the  cautious  coolness  of  the  general.  If, 
among  these  qualities,  there  be  any  incom- 
patible with  the  purity  of  his  essence,  and 
therefore  inapplicable  to  him,  yet  in  this 
sense  they  belong  to  him,  all  are  subject  to 
his  empire,  and  act  only  by  his  will.  He  is, 
as  an  ancient  writer  expresses  it,  a  boundless 
ocean  of  existence.  From  this  ocean  of  ex- 
istence all  created  beings,  like  so  many  rivu- 
lets, flow.  From  this  ocean  of  light  proceed- 
ed the  sun  with  its  brightness,  the  stars  with 
their  ghtter,  along  with  all  the  brilliancies 
of  other  beings  that  approach  their  nature. 
From  this  ocean  of  wisdom  came  those  pro- 
found politicians,  who  penetrate  the  deepest 
recesses  of  the  human  heart ;  hence  those 
sublime  philosophers,  who  explore  the  hea- 
vens by  the  marvels  of  dioptrics,  and  descend 
into  the  bowels  of  the  earth  by  their  know- 
ledge of  nature  ;  and  hence  all  those  superior 
geniuses,  who  cultivate  the  sciences,  and  the 
liberal  arts,  and  who  constitute  the  beauty  of 
the  intelligent  world.  *  In  him  we  live,  and 
move,  and  have  our  being,'  Acts  xvii.  28. 
We  breathe  his  air,  and  wo  arc  animated  by 
his  spirit ;  it  is  his  power  that  upholds,  his 

*  See  Dr.  Clarke  on  the  Attributes^  Vol.  I.  prop.  Si 


Ser.  IV.] 


THE  GRANDEUR  OF  GOD. 


75 


knowledge  that  informs,  and  his  wisdom  that 
conducts  us. 

3.  The  essence  of  God  is  unchangeable  in 
its  exercise.  Creatures  only  pass  from  noth- 
ing to  existence,  and  from  existence  to  noth- 
ing. Their  existence  is  rather  a  continual 
variation  than  a  permanent  state  ;  and  they 
are  all  carried  away  with  the  same  vicissi- 
tudes. Hardly  are  we  children  before  we  be- 
come men :  hardly  are  we  arrived  at  manhood 
before  we  become  old ;  and  as  soon  as  we 
become  old  we  die.  We  love  to-day  what 
we  hated  yesterday,  and  to-morrow  we  shall 
hate  what  to-day  we  love.  David  has  given 
us  a  just  definition  of  man.  He  defines  him 
a  phantom,  who  only  appears,  and  who  ap- 
pears only  in  a  vain  show,  Ps.  xxxix.  6.  But 
'  1  the  Lord  change  not :  the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  for  ever,'  Mai.  iii.  6.  Heb.  xiii. 
■8.  He  is,  as  it  were,  the  fixed  point,  on 
which  revolve  all  the  creatures  in  the  uni- 
verse, without  the  partaking  himself  of  their 
rev^olutions. 

4.  Finally,  the  divine  essence  is  eternal  in 
its  duration :  '  Hast  thou  not  known  (saith 
our  prophet,)  that  he  is  the  everlasting  God, 
the  Lord,  the  creator  of  the  ends  of  the 
earth .'"  When  we  attempt  to  measure  the 
duration  of  God,  by  tracing  it  beyond  the 
first  periods  of  this  universe,  we  lose  our- 
selves in  the  unfathomable  depths  of  eternity  : 
we  heap  ages  upon  ages,  millions  of  years 
upon  millions  of  years;  but  no  beginning  of 
his  existence  can  we  find.  And  when  we  en- 
deavour to  stretch  our  thoughts,  and  to  pene- 
trate the  most  remote  futurity,  again  we 
heap  ages  upon  ages,  millions  of  years  upon 
millions  of  years,  and  lose  ourselves  again  in 
the  same  abyss,  perceiving,  that  he  can  have 
no  end,  as  he  had  no  beginning.  He  is  '  the 
ancient  of  days,  the  alpha  and  omega,  the 
first  and  the  last,'  Dan.  vii.  9.  '  He  is,  he 
was,  he  is  to  come,'  Rev.  i.  8.  'Before  the 
mountains  were  brought  forth,  before  the 
earth  and  tlie  world  were  formed,  even  from 
everlasting  to  everlasting  he  is  God,'  Ps.  xc. 
2.  And,  when  the  mountains  shall  be  .dis- 
solved, when  the  foundations  of  the  earth 
shall  be  destroyed,  when  all  sensible  objects 
shall  be  folded  up  like  a  vesture,  he  will  be 
the  everlasting  God,  Heb.  i.  12.  will  be,  when 
they  exist  no  more,  as  he  was  before  they 
existed  at  all. 

Secondly,  Having"  judged  of  the  grandeur 
of  God  by  the  sublimity  of  his  essence,  judge 
of  it  by  the  immensity  of  his  works.  Tiie 
prophet  invites  us  to  this  meditation  in  the 
words  of  my  text.  '  It  is  he  that  stretcheth 
out  the  heavens  as  a  curtain,  and  spreadeth 
them  out  as  a  tent  to  dwell  in.  Lift  up  your 
eyes  on  high,  and  behold  who  hath  created 
these  things.  It  is  he  wlio  bringeth  out  their 
host  by  number,  he  calleth  them  all  by  names. 
By  the  greatness  of  his  might,  for  that  he  is 
strong  in  power,  not  one  faileth.'  But  who 
can  pretend  to  discuss,  in  a  single  article  of 
one  sermon,  a  subject,  which  whole  volumes 
could  not  contain?  For  if  there  be  a  subject, 
in  which  simple  narration  resembles  rhetori- 
cal bonibast,  it  is  undoubtedly  this. 

A  novice  is  frightened  at  hearing  what  as- 
tronomers assert  ;  that  the  sun  is  a  million 
times  bigger  than  the  earth  :  tiiat  the  naked 


eye  discovers  more  than  a  thousand  fixed 
stars,  which  are  so  many  suns  to  enlighten 
unknown  systems :  that  with  the  help  of 
glasses  we  may  discover  an  almost  infinite 
number :  that  two  thousand  have  been  reck- 
oned in  one  constellation  ;  and^.  that,  with- 
out exaggerating,  they  may  be  numbered  at 
more  than  two  millions :  that  what  are  call- 
ed nebulous  stars,  of  which  there  is  an  innu- 
merable multitude,  that  appear  to  us  as  if 
they  were  involved  in  little  misty  clouds,  are 
all  asemblages  of  stars. 

A  novice  is  frightened,  when  he  is  told, 
that  there  is  such  a  prodigious  distance  be- 
tween the  earth  and  the  sun,  that  a  body, 
moving  with  the  greatest  rapidity  that  art 
could  produce,  would  take  up  twenty-five 
years  in  passing  from  the  one  to  the  other : 
that  it  would  take  up  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  to  pass  from  the  earth  to  the  near- 
est of  the  fixed  stars  :  and  to  the  most  distant 
more  than  a  hundred  millions  of  years. 

A  novice  is  frightened :  (do  not  accuse  me, 
my  brethren,  of  wandering  from  the  subject 
of  this  discourse,  for  the  saints,  who  are  pro- 
posed in  scripture  as  patterns  to  us,  cherish- 
ed their  devotions  with  meditations  of  this 
kind :  at  the  sight  of  these  grand  objects 
they  exclaimed,  '  O  Lord,  when  we  consider 
thy  heavens,  the  work  of  thy  fingers,  the 
moon  and  the  stars  which  thou  hast  ordain- 
ed; what  is  man  that  thou  art  mindful  of 
him  ?  and  the  son  of  man  that  thou  visitest 
him .''  Psal.  viii.  3.  4.  And  my  text  enga- 
ges me  to  fix  your  attention  upon  these  ob- 
jects :  lift  tip  your  eyes  on  high  and  behold.) 
A  novice  is  frightened,  when  he  is  assured, 
that  although  the  stars,  which  form  a  con- 
stellation, seem  to  touch  one  another,  yet  the 
distances  of  those  that  are  nearest  together 
can  be  ascertained,  and  that  even  words  are 
wanting  to  express  the  spaces  which  sepa- 
rate those  that  are  the  greatest  distances 
from  each  other  ;  that  if  two  men  were  ob- 
serving two  fixed  stars,  from  tvvo  parts  of  the 
earth,  the  most  distant  from  each  other,  the 
lines  that  went  from  their  eyes,  and  termina* 
ted  on  that  star,  would  be  confounded  toge- 
ther; that  it  would  be  the  same  with  two 
men,  were  one  of  them  upon  earth,  and  the 
other  in  thej  sun,  though  the  sun  and  Ihe 
earth  are  at  such  a  prodigious  distance  from 
each  other ;  so  inconsiderable  is  that  distance 
in  comparison  of  the  space  which  separates 
both  from  the  star.  All  this  startles  a  no- 
vice :  and  yet,  what  are  these  bodies,  count- 
less in  their  number,  and  enormous  in  their 
size  ?  What  are  these  unmeasurable  spaces, 
which  absorb  our  senses  and  imaginations.' 
What  are  all  these  in  comparison  of  what 
reason  discovers.'  Shall  we  be  puerile 
enough  to  persuade  ourselves  that  there  is 
nothing  beyond  what  we  see  ?  Have  we  not 
reason  to  think,  that  there  are  spaces  far,  far 
beyond,  full  of  the  Creator's  wonders,  and  af- 
fording matter  of  contemplation  to  the  thou- 
sand thousands,  to  the  ten  thousand  times  ten 
thousand  intelligences  that  he  has  made  .' 
Dan.  vii.  10. 

Here  let  us  pause.  Over  all  this  universe 
God  reigns.  But  what  is  man  even  in  com- 
parison of  this  earth.'  'Let  him  reflect  on 
himself   (1  borrov/  the  words  of  a  modern 


76 


THE  GRANDEUR  OF  GOD. 


[Sbh.  IV. 


author), '  let  him  consider  what  he  is  in  com- 
parison of  the  whole  that  exists  beside  :  let 
him  regardhimself  as  confined  in  this  obscure 
by-corner  of  nature :  and  from  the  appear- 
ance of  th"  little  dimgeon  where  he  is  lodg- 
ed, that  i..,,  of  this  visible  world,  let  him 
learn  to  estimate  the  world,  its  kingdoms,  and 
himself  at  their  real  value.'  Isaiah  estimates 
their  real  value  in  the  words  of  my  text. 
'  Behold,'  says  he, '  all  nations  before  him  are 
as  a  drop  of  a  bucket:'  they  are  of  no  more 
value  than  the  small  dust  that  cleaves  to  the 
balance :  God  sitteth  upon  the  circle  of  the 
earth,  and  the  inhabitants  thereof  are  as 
grasshoppers:'  yea,  they  are  still  less  consid- 
erable, '  all  natioils  before  him  are  as  no- 
thing.' 

Thirdly,  The  immensity  of  the  Creator's 
works  leads  us  to  the  efficiency  of  his  loill  : 
and  the  idea  of  the  real  world  conducts  us  to 
that  of  the  possible  world.  There  needs  no 
train  of  propositions  to  discover  a  connexion 
between  what  God  has  done,  and  what  he 
can  do.  The  idea  of  a  creature  leads  to  that 
of  a  Creator  :  for,  in  supposing  that  some  be- 
ino-s  have  been  created,  we  suppose  an  author 
of  their  creation.  The  idea  of  a  creative  Be- 
ing includes  the  idea  of  a  Being  whose  will  is 
efficient :  for  as  soon  as  ye  suppose  a  creative 
Being,  ye  suppose  a  Being  whose  will  is  self- 
efficient.  But  a  Being,  whose  will  is  self-effi- 
cient, is  a  Being  who,  by  a  single  act  of  his 
will,  can  create  all  possible  beings  :  that  is  all, 
the  existence  of  which  implies  no  contradic- 
tion ;  there  being  no  reason  for  limiting  the 
power  of  a  will  that  hath  been  once  efficient 
of  itself.  So  that  as  soon  as  ye  conceive  a 
Being  who  has  once  created,  ye  conceive  a 
Being,  who  can  always  create. 

Let  us  then  form  this  notion  of  God  :  a  Be- 
ing who,  by  a  single  act  of  his  will,  can  create 
now  in  empty  space  as  he  hath  formerly  crea- 
ted. He  can  say,  of  light  which  doth  not  ex- 
ist, what  he  once  said  of  that  which  doth  ex- 
ist, '  Let  there  be  light ;'  and  there  shall  be 
light,  like  that  which  actually  is.  He  can  say, 
of  luminaries  which  are  not,  what  he  has  said 
of  luminaries  which  already  are,  '  Let  there 
be  lights  in  the  firmament  of  heaven  ;'  and 
luminaries,  that  are  not,  shall  be,  and  those 
that  once  were  not  are  now,  and  will  owe 
their  existence  to  that  will,  which  is  always 
irresistible,  and  always  efficient ;  or,  as  the 
prophet  says  in  the  words  of  my  text,  to  the 
greatness  of  his  might,  to  the  strength  of  his 
potcer. 

Lastly,  to  convince  you  of  the  grandeur  of 
God,  I  am  to  remark  to  you,  '  the  magnifi- 
cence of  some  of  his  mighty  acts,  at  certain 
periods,  in  favour  of  his  church.'  The  pro- 
phet had  two  of  these  periods  in  view.  The 
first  was  the  return  of  the  Jews  from  that 
captivity  in  Babylon  which  he  had  denounced  : 
and  the  second,  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  of 
which  their  return  from  captivity  was  only  a 
ehadow. 

What  wonders  did  God  work  in  the  first  of 
these  periods  !  Nebuchadnezzar,  the  tyrant  of 
the  Jews,  had  obtained  universal  monarchy ,or, 
as  the  prophet  Jeremiah  expresses  it,  he  was 
become  the.  hammer  of  the  ichole  earth,  Jer.  1. 
23.  The  inspired  writers  represent  the  ra- 
pidity of  his  victories  under  the  emblem  of 


the '  swiftness  of  an  eagle.    We  can  hardly 

imagine  the  speed  with  which  he  overran 
Ethiopia,  Arabia,  Palestine,  Persia,  Media, 
Egypt,  Idumea,  Syria,  and  almost  all  Asia, 
and  with  which  he  conquered  all  those  exten- 
sive countries  as  he  marched  through  them. 
Cyrus  had  been  appointed  by  the  Lord,  and 
nominated  by  the  prophets,  to  stop  his  career, 
and  to  subdue  those  Babylonians  who  had 
subdued  so  many  nations.  But  who  was  this 
Cyrus .'  Son  of  a  father,  whose  meanness  an 
obscurity  had  prevailed  with  Astyages,  king 
of  Media,  to  give  him  his  daughter.  Mandana 
in  marriage  ;  how  will  he  perform  such  pro- 
digious enterprises  ?  This  is  not  all.  Astya- 
ges was  afraid  that  Mandana's  son  should  ful- 
fil a  dream,  of  which  his  diviners  had  given 
him  frightful  interpretations.  He  caused  her 
therefore  to  reside  at  court  during  her  preg- 
nancy, and  commanded  Harpagus,  one  of  his 
most  devoted  courtiers,  to  put  the  child  to  death 
as  soon  as  he  should  be  born.  But  God  pre- 
served the  child,  and  all  the  power  of  Astyages 
could  not  make  one  hair  fall  from  his  head 
without  the  divine  permission.  Harpagus 
trembled  at  his  commission,  resigned  it  to  the 
overseer  of  the  king's  flocks,  and  ordered 
him  to  expose  Mandana's  son  :  but,  when  ho 
was  preparing  to  obey  him,  his  wife,  affected 
with  the  beauty  of  young  Cyrus,  prevailed 
with  her  husband  to  expose  her  own  son  in 
his  stead. 

Thus,  by  a  train  of  miracles,  was  this 
anointed  of  God  preserved,  and  by  a  train  of 
greater  miracles  still,  did  he  stir  up  the  Per- 
sians against  the  Medes,  march  at  the  head  of 
them  against  the  cruel  Astyages,  defeat  him, 
conquer  Media,  and  at  length,  besiege  Baby- 
lon. Nebuchadnezzar  had  surrounded  that 
city  with  a  triple  wall,  and  had  replaced  the 
bricks  of  Semiramis  with  free-stone,  which 
contributed,  says  Dion,  less  to  the  magnifi- 
cence than  to  the  eternity  of  the  empire. 
The  walls  were  a  hundred  feet  high,  and 
fifty  broad,  so  that  it  was  said  of  that  great 
city,  it  was  alike  incredible  how  art  could 
form,  or  art  destroy  it.  But  what  walls,  what 
fortifications,  can  resist  the  blows  of  an  arm 
supported  by  '  the  greatness  of  the  might,  the 
strength  of  the  power,'  of  the  omnipotent 
God !  Every  thing  submits  to  the  valour  of 
Cyrus:  he  takes  Babylon,  and  before  he  has 
well  secured  his  conquest,  does  homage  for 
the  victory  to  the  God  who  had  foretold  it ; 
and  releases  the  Jews  from  captivity.  These 
accounts  are  related  by  heathen  authors,  and 
particularly  by  Herodotus  and  Justin :  .  God 
having  determined  that  the  bitterest  enemies 
of  revelation  should  preserve  those  monuments 
which  demonstrate  the  divinity  of  our  pro- 
phecies. 

But  I  said  just  now,  that  the  return  of  the 
Jews  from  their  captivity  in  Babylon  was 
only  a  shadow  of  that  deliverance,  which  the 
Messiah  was  to  bring  into  the  world :  and 
that  the  mighty  acts,  which  God  wrought  in 
the  first  period,  were  only  faint  images  of  what 
he  would  operate  in  the  second.  Accordingly, 
our  prophet  had  the  second  of  these  periods 
much  more  in  '■  view  than  the  first  in  the 
words  of  my  te.xt.  It  is  not  a  love  for  the 
marvellous ;  it  is  neither  a  prejudice  of  edu- 
cation, nor  a  blind  submission  to  the  confes- 


Ser.  IV.] 


THE  GRANDEUR  OF  GOD. 


77 


sions  of  faith;  (motives  that  produce  so  much 
superstition  among'  Cliiistians  :)  tlicse  are  not 
the  reasons  of  our  comment:  it  is  the  nature 
of  the  thing  ;  it  is  the  magnificence  of  tlie 
prophecies  connected  with  my  text ;  it  is  the 
auti  ority  of  St.  Paul,  wlio,  in  the  eleventh 
chaftji  of  his  epistle  to  the  Romans,  ver.  34. 
and  in  the  second  of  his  first  epistle  to  the 
Corinthians,  ver.  16.  interprets  these  words 
of  my  text  of  the  gospel,  Who  has  known  the 
mind  of  the  Lord  ?  who  has  been  his  counsel- 
lor 9  Accordingly,  in  this  second  period,  God 
has  displayed  treasures  of  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge. But  we  have  elsewhere  treated  this 
subject  at  large,  and  we  choose  rather  only  to 
hint  this  article  to-day  than  to  incur  the  just 
reproach  of  treating  it  imperfectly. 

Such  then  are  the  grandeurs  of  God  ;  and 
all  that  I  have  lisped  out  is  more  properly  the 
title  of  the  subject,  upon  which  I  would  fix 
your  attention,  than  the  subject  itself  well  di- 
gested. Nevertheless,  how  imperfect  soever 
the  sketch  may  be,  it  may  serve  to  convince  us, 
that  there  is  no  extravagance  in  the  prophet's 
ideas  ;  that  if  his  language  is  lofty,  it  is  not 
hyperbolical,  and  that  he  is  always  below  the 
truth,  even  when  lie  uses  these  sublime  ex- 
pressions, '  Who  has  measured  the  waters 
in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  .'  meted  the  heavens 
with  a  span,  comprehended  tlie  dust  of  the 
earth  with  a  measure,  weighed  the  mountains 
in  scales,  and  the  hills  in  a  balance  .-'  But  why 
does  he  describe  the  Deity  with  so  much 
pomp  .''  This  remains  to  be  considered  in  tlie 
second  part  of  this  discourse,  which  sliall  also 
be  the  application. 

II.  We  observed  in  the  beginning,  that  the 
prophet's  design  was  to  render  two  sorts  of 
idolatry  odious  :  idolatry  in  religion ;  and  ido- 
latry in  morals. 

Idolatry  in  religion  consists  in  rendering 
those  religious  homages  to  creatures,  which 
are  due  to  the  Creator  only.  To  discredit  this 
kind  of  idolatry,  the  prophet  contents  himself 
with  describing  it.  He  shames  the  idolater 
by  reminding  him  of  the  origin  of  fidols,  and 
of  the  pains  taken  to  preserve  them.  What 
is  the  origin  of  idols .-'  '  The  workman  melt- 
eth  an  image  (says  our  prophet),  and  the 
goldsmith  spreadeth  it  over  with  gold.' 
What  pains  does  the  idolater  take  to  preserve 
his  idols  ^  He  casleth  silver  chains  to  fasten 
them,  and  to  prevent  thieves  from  stealing 
them,  or  perhaps  for  fear  they  should  escape 
through  their  own  inconstancy.  The  hea- 
thens had  been  accustomed,  when  they  be- 
sieged a  city,  to  evoke  the  tutelary  gods 
(Macorbius  has  preserved  a  long  form  of  these 
evocations  ;*)  and  the  besieged,  to  prevent 
the  effects  of  these  evocations,  and  to  se- 
cure their  gods  from  going  into  their  ene- 
mies' camps,  used  to  fasten  their  images  with 
chains.  Many  proofs  of  this  might  be  alleg- 
ed, but  one  passage  of  Quintus  Curtius  shall 

*  Saturn.  III.  9.  The  following  is  the  form  of  the 
incantation.  '  If  you  be  a  God,  or  a  Goddess,  under 
whose  guardianship  the  people  and  tlie  city  of  the 
Carthaginians  is,  and  you,  particularly,  who  have  ta- 
ken upon  you  the  protection  of  that  people  and  city,  I 
worship  you,  and  humbly  beg  you  would  be  pleased 
to  forsake  the  people  and  city  of  the  Carthaginians, 
to  abandon  their  places,  temples,  religious  ceremo- 
nies and  cities,  and  come  away,'  &c.  Bayle,  Soranus 
Kem.  E. 


sufiice.  He  tells  us,  that  '  a  citizen  of  Tyre 
having  publicly  declared  that  he  had  seen  in 
a  dream  the  image  of  Apollo  quitting  the  city, 
the  citizens  immediately  used  the  precaution, 
of  fastening  it  with  a  chain  of  gold.'* 

But  the  prophet  no  less  intended  to  shame 
idolatry  in  morals,  which  consists  in  distrust- 
ing the  promises  of  God  in  extreme  dangers 
and  in  expecting  from  men  a  succour  that 
cannot  be  expected  from  God.  A  man  ia 
guilty  of  moral  idolatry,  when,  in  dangerous 
crises,  he  says, '  My  way  is  hid  from  the  Lord ; 
my  judgment  is  passed  over  from  my  God.' 
Be  not  surprised  at  my  giving  so  odious  a 
name  to  a  disposition  of  mind,  which  is  too 
common  even  among  those  whose  piety  is  the 
least  suspected,  and  the  best  established.  The 
essence  of  idolatry,  in  general,  is  to  disrobe 
the  Deity  of  his  perfections,  and  to  adorn  a 
creature  with  them.  Tiiere  are  indeed  many 
degrees  of  this  disposition.  He,  who  renders 
divine  honours  to  the  glimmering'  light  of  a 
taper,  is  guilty  perhaps  of  a  more  gross  idola- 
try, than  he  who  worships  the  sun.  The 
Egyptian,  who  worships  a  rat,  is  perhaps 
more  absurd  than  the  Roman,  who  ranks  a 
Cesar  with  the  gods.  But,  after  all,  there  is 
so  small  a  difference  between  the  meanest 
insect  and  the  greatest  emperor,  the  glimmer- 
ing of  a  taper  and  the  glory  of  the  sun,  when 
compared  with  the  Supreme  Being,  that 
there  can  be  no  great  difference  between 
these  two  sorts  of  idolatry. 

Let  us  apply  this  to  our  subject.  God  is 
the  sole  arbiter  of  events.  Whenever  ye 
think,  that  any  more  powerful  being  directs 
them  to  comfort  you,  ye  put  the  creature  in 
the  Creator's  place  ;  whether  ye  do  it  in  a 
manner  more  or  less  absurd  :  whether  they  be 
formidable  armies,  impregnable  fortresses, 
and  well-stored  magazines,  which  ye  thus  ex- 
alt into  deities  ;  or  whether  it  be  a  small  circle 
of  friends,  an  easy  income,  or  a  country-house  ; 
it  does  not  signify,  ye  are  alike  idolaters. 

The  Jews  were  often  guilty  of  the  first  sort 
of  idolatry.  The  captivity  in  Babylon  waa 
the  last  curb  to  that  fatal  propensity.  But  this 
miserable  people,  whose  existence  and  pre- 
servation, whose  prosperities  and  adversities, 
were  one  continued  tra,in  of  obvious  miracles,- 
immediately  from  heaven  ;  this  miserable 
people,  whose  whole  history  should  have  pre- 
vailed v\ritii  them  to  have  feared  God  only, 
and  to  have  confided  in  him  entirely  ;  this 
miserable  people  trembled  at  Nebuchadnezzar, 
and  his  army,  as  if  both  had  acted  indepen- 
dently of  God.  Their  imaginations  prostra- 
ted before  these  second  causes,  and  they  shud- 
dered at  the  sight  of  the  Chaldean  Marmosets, 
as  if  they  had  aff"orded  assistance  to  their 
worshippers,  and  had  occasioned  their  tri- 
umphs over  the  church. 

Thanks  be  to  God,  my  dear  brethren,  that 
the  light  of  the  gospel  hath  opened  the  eyes 
of  a  great  number  of  Ciiristians,  in  regard  to 
idolatry  in  religion.  I  say  a  great  number, 
and  not  all :  for  how  many  parts  of  the 
Christian  world  still  deserve  the  prophet's 
reproach .-' '  the  workman  melteth  a  graven  im- 

*  L.  IV.  3.  21.  Metu  aurea catena  devinxere  simu- 
lacrum, aisque  IIcrculis,cujus  numini  urbem  dicave- 
rant,  inseruere  vinculum,  quasi  illo  Deo  Apollineni 
retenturi. 


T^ 


THE  GRANDEUR  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  IV. 


Age,  the  goldsmith  spreadeth  it  over  with 
gold.  Have  ye  not  Known  ?  have  ye  not 
heard  ?'  Blessed  be  God, 'we  are  quite  free 
from  this  kind  of  idolatry  !  But  how  many 
idolaters  of  the  second  kind  do  I  see  ? 

Ye,  who,  in  order  to  avert  public  calamities, 
satisfy  yourselves  with  a  few  precautions  of 
worldly  prudence,  and  oppose  provisions  to 
scarcity,  medicines  to  mortality,  an  active 
vigilance  to  the  danger  of  a  contagion  ;  and 
take  no  pains  to  extirpate  those  horrible 
crimes,  which  provoke  tlie  vengeance  of 
heaven  to  inflict  punishments  on  public  bo- 
dies ;  ye  are  guilty  of  this  second  kind  of 
idolatry,  ye  stand  exposed  to  this  malediction, 
'  Cursed  be  the  man  that  trusteth  in  man,  and 
maketh  flesh  his  arm,'  Jer.  xvii.  5.  Were 
your  confidence  placed  in  God,  ye  would  en- 
deavour to  avert  national  judgments  by  purg- 
ing the  state  of  those  scandalous  commerces, 
those  barbarous  extortions,  and  all  those 
wicked  practices,  whicii  are  the  surest  fore- 
runners, and  the  principal  causes,  of  famine, 
and  pestilence,  and  war. 

Desolate  family,  ye  who  rested  all  your 
expectations  upon  one  single  head ;  ye,  who 
made  one  single  person  the  axis  of  all  your 
schemes  and  hopes  ,  ye,  who  lately  saw  that 
person  cut  down  in  the  midst  of  his  race,  and 
carried  away  with  the  torrent  of  human  vicis- 
situdes ;  ye,  who  see  nothing  around  you  now 
but  indigence,  misery,  and  famine ;  who  cry  in 
the  bitterness  of  your  grief,  no  more  support,  no 
more  protector,  no  more  father :  ye  are  guilty  of 
this  second  kind  of  idolatry.  Ye  '  trusted  in 
man,  ye  made  flesh  your  arm.'  Were  God 
the  object  of  your  trust,  ye  would  recollect, 
amidst  all  your  grief,  that  providence  is  not 
enclosed  in  your  patron's  tomb :  ye  would 
remember,  that  an  invisible  eye  incessantly 
watehes  over,  and  governs,  this  world  ;  that 
God,  '  who  feedeth  the  fowls  of  heaven,  and 
clothes  the  lilies  of  the  valley,'  (Luke  xii.  24. 
28.)  that  a  God  so  good  and  compassionate, 
can  easily  provide  for  the  maintenance  and 
encouragement  of  your  family. 

And  thou,  feeble  mortal,  lying  on  a  sick 
bed,  already  struggling  with  tlie  king  of  ter- 
rors, (Job  xviii.  14.)  in  the  arms  of  death  ; 
thou,  who  tremblingly  complaincst,  I  am  un- 
done !  physicians  give  me  over  !  friends  are 
needless  !  remedies  arc  useless  !  every  appli- 
cation is  unsuccessful !  a  cold  sweat  covers 
my  whole  body,  and  announces  my  approach- 
ing death  !  thou  art  guilty  of  this  second 
kind  of  idolatry,  tliou  hast  '  trusted  in  man,' 
thou  hast  '  made  flesh  thine  arm.'  Were 
God  the  object  of  thy  trust,  thou  wouldest 
believe,  that  though  (loath  is  about  to  sepa- 
rate thee  from  men,  it  is  about  to  unite  thee 
to  God :  thou  wouldest  preclude  the  slavish 
fear  of  death  by  thy  fervent  desires :  thou 
wouldest  exult  at  the  approach  of  thy  Re- 
deemer,'  Come,  Ijord,  come  quickly  !  Amen.' 
Rev.  xxii.  20.  How  easy  would  it  be,  my 
l)rethren,  to  enlarge  this  article  I 


'  Dearly  beloved,  flee  from  idolatry,'  (1  Cor. 
X.  14.)  is  tho  exhortation  of  an  apostle,  Jand 
with  this  exhortation  we  conclude  this  dis- 
course, and  enforce  the  design  of  the  prophet 
in  the  text.  '  Flee  from  idolatry,'  not  only 
from  gross  idolatry,  but  from  that  which, 
though  it  may  appear  less  shocking,  is  no  less 
repugnant  to  the  spirit  of  religion.  '  Why 
sayest  thou,  O  Jacob  ;  why  speakest  thou,  O 
Israel ;  My  way  is  hid  from  the  I^ord ;  my 
judgment  is  passed  over  from  my  God .'"  The 
guardianship  of  you  is  that  part  of  the  domi- 
nion of  God  of  which  he  is  most  jealous.  His 
love  for  you  is  so  exquisite,  that  he  conde- 
scends to  charge  himself  with  your  happiness. 
The  happiness  which  ye  feel  in  communion 
with  him,  is  intended  to  engage  you  to  him : 
and  the  noblest  homage  that  ye  can  return, 
the  purest  incense  that  ye  can  ofier,  is  to  say 
to  him, '  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  .'' 
there  is  none  upon  earth  I  desire  besides  thee. 
It  is  good  for  me  to  draw  near  to  God,'  Ps. 
Ixxiii.  25.  28. 

If  ye  place  your  hopes  upon  creatures,  ye 
depend  upon  winds,  and  waves,  and  precari- 
ous seasons :  upon  the  treachery,  iniquity, 
and  inconstancy,  of  men  :  or,  to  say  all  in  one 
word,  ye  depend  upon  death.  That  poor  man 
is  a  self-deceiver,  who,  like  the  man  in  the 
gospel,  saith  within  himself,  '  My  soul,  thou 
hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years  :  take 
thine  ease,  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,'  Luke 
xii.  17.  19.  But,  I  expect  to  find  him,  yes,  I 
expect  to  find  him,  at  the  sound  of  that  voice, 
which  may  this  very  niglit  require  his  soul,  I 
expect  to  find  him  in  a  sick  bed.  Tlicre,  all 
pale,  distorted,  and  dying,  let  him  assemble 
his  gods  ;  let  him  call  for  his  treasures,  and 
send  for  his  domestics,  and  acquaintances ;  in 
that  fatal  bed  let  him  embrace  his  Drusillas 
and  Dalilahs  ;  let  him  form  harmonious  con- 
certs, amuse  himself  with  fashionable  diver- 
sions, or  feast  his  eyes  with  gaudy  decorations, 
the  vacuity  and  vanity  of  which,  in  spite  of 
himself,  he  will  be  obliged  to  discover. 

O  give  me  more  solid  foundations  for  my 
hopes  !  May  I  never  build  my  house  upon  tho 
sand,  endangered  by  every  wind  and  wave  ; 
may  tlie  edifice  of  my  felicity  be  superior  to 
human  vicissitudes,  and  '  like  mount  Sion, 
which  cannot  be  removed,'  Ps.  cxxv.  1.)  may 
I  build  upon  the  rock  of  ages,  and  be  able  in 
public  calamities  and  in  my  private  misfor- 
tunes, above  all,  in  the  agonies  of  death  to 
appopriate  those  precious  promises  wliich 
God  hath  made  to  his  church  in  general,  and 
to  every  individual  in  it  :  '  The  mountains 
shall  depart,  and  the  hills  bo  removed,  but  my 
kindness  shall  not  depart  from  thee,  neither 
shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace  bo  removed,' 
Isa.  liv.  10. 

To  this  God,  of  whoso  grandeur  wc  form 
such  elevated  notions,  and  upon  whose  promi- 
ses we  found  such  exalted  hopes,  be  honour 
and  glory  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen. 


SEIliVlON    V. 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  GOD'S  WISDOM,  AND  THB  ABUNDANCE  OF 

HIS  POWER. 


Jeremiah  xxxii.  19. 
Oreat  in  counsel^  and  mighty  in  wor^ 


M.  HESE  words  are  connected  with  the  two 
preceding  verses  :  '  Ah,  Lord  God,  behold, 
thou  hast  made  the  heaven  and  tlie  earth  by 
thy  great  power  and  stretched-out  arm,  and 
there  is  nothing  too  hard  for  thee.  Thou 
showest  loving-kindness  unto  thousands,  and 
recompensest  the  iniquity  of  the  fathers  into 
the  bosom  of  their  children  after  them  :  the 
great,  the  mighty  God,  the  Lord  of  hosts  is 
his  name,  great  in  counsel,  and  mighty  in 
work.' 

The  text  that  we  have  read  to  you,  my  bre- 
thren, and  which,  though  very  short,  hath 
doubtless  already  excited  many  grand  ideas 
in  your  minds,  is  a  homage  which  the  prophet 
Jeremiah  paid  to  the  perfections  of  God,  when 
they  seemed  to  counteract  one  another.  To 
make  this  plain  to  you,  we  will  endeavour  to 
fix  your  attention  on  the  circumstances  in 
which  our  prophet  was  placed,  when  he  pro- 
nounced the  words.  This  is  tlic  best  mctliod 
of  explaining  the  text,  and  with  this  we  bo- 
gin. 

Jeremiah  was  actually  a  martyr  to  his  mi- 
nistry, when  he  addressed  that  prayer  to  God, 
of  which  this  text  is  only  a  part.  He  was  re- 
duced to  the  disagreeable  necessity  of  not  be- 
ing able  to  avail  himself  of  the  rites  of  reli- 
gion, without  invalidating  the  maxims  of  civil 
government.  This  is  one  of  the  most  difficult 
straits,  into  which  the  ministers  of  the  living 
God  can  be  brought ;  for,  however  they  may 
be  opposed,  people  always  regard  them,  if  not 
with  entire  submission,  yet  with  some  degree 
of  respect,  while  they  confine  themselves  to 
the  duties  of  their  own  office,  and  while,  con- 
tent with  the  speaking  of  heavenly  things, 
they  leave  the  reins  of  government  in  the 
hands  of  those  to  whom  Providence  has  com- 
mitted them.  But  when  religion  and  civil 
policy  are  so  united  that  ministers  cannot  dis- 
charge their  functions  without  becoming,  in 
a  manner,  ministers  of  state,  without  deter- 
mining whether  it  be  proper  to  mnkc  peace 
or  to  declare  war,  to  enter  into  alliances  or 
to  dissolve  them  ;  how  extremely  delicate  and 
difficult  does  their  ministry  become  !  This 
was  our  prophet's  case.  Jerusalem  hail  been 
besieged  for  the  space  of  one  year  by  Nebu- 
chadnezzar's army,  and  it  was  doubtful  whe- 
ther the  city  should  capitulate  with  tliat 
prince,  or  hold  out  against  him.  God  him- 
self decided  this  question,  by  the  ministry  of 
the  prophet,  and  commanded  him  in  his 
name,  to  address  the  Israelites  ;  '  Thus  saith 
the  Lord  ;  Behold,  I  will  give  this  city  into 
the   hand  of  the   king   of  Babylon,  and  he 


shall  take  it.  And  Zedekiah  king  of  Judah 
shall  not  escape  out  of  the  hand  oT  the  Chal- 
deans ;  but  shall  surely  be  delivered  into  th& 
hands  of  the  king  of  Babylon  .  .  ,  though 
ye  fight  with  tha  Chaldeans,  ye  shall  not 
prosper,'  ver  3 — 5, 

A  prediction  so  alarming  was  not  uttered 
with  impunity  :  Jeremiah  was  thrown  intd 
prison  for  pronouncing  it :  but  before  he  could 
well  reflect  on  this  trial,  he  was  exercised 
with  another  that  was  more  painful  still.  God 
commanded  him  to  transact  an  affair,  which 
seems  at  first  sight  more  likely  to  sink  his 
ministry  into  contempt,  than  to  conciliate 
people's  esteem  to  it.  He  commanded  him  to 
avail  himself  of  the  right,  which  every  Israel- 
ite enjoyed,  when  his  nearest  rekition  offered 
an  estate  to  sale  :  a  right  founded  upon  an 
institute  recorded  in  Leviticus.  God  required 
the  Israelites  to  consider  him  as  their  sove- 
reign, and  his  sovereignty  over  them  was  ab* 
solute.  Lev.  xxv.  They  cannot  bo  said  to 
have  possessed  any  thing  as  proper  owners ; 
they  held  every  thing  conditionally,  and  in 
trust ;  and  they  had  no  other  right  in  their 
patrimonial  estates  than  what  they  derived 
fVom  the  arbitrary  will  of  God.  In  order  to 
preserve  in  them  a  sense  of  this  dependence, 
they  were  forbidden  to  sell  the  lands  which 
they  inherited  from  their  ancestors  :  '  The 
lands  shall  not  be  sold  for  ever  (saith  the  Le- 
vitical  law,)  for  the  land  is  mine,  and  ye  are 
strangers  and  sojourners  with  me,'  ver.  23. 
This  was  not  unknown  to  the  heathens,  for 
Diodorus  of  Sicily  says,  that  '  the  Jews  could 
not  sell  their  inheritances.'* 

But  as  it  might  happen  that  a  landholder 
might  become  indigent,  and  be  reduced  by 
this  prohibition  to  the  danger  of  dying  with 
hunger,  even  while  he  had  enough  to  supply 
all  his  wants,  God  had  provided,  that,  in  such 
a  case,  the  lands  might  be  sold  under  certain 
restrictions,  which  were  proper  to  convince 
the  seller  of  that  sovereignty,  from  which  he 
would  never  depart.  The  j)rinciple  of  those 
restrictions  were  two  ;  one,  tliat  the  estate 
should  be  rather  mortgaged  than  sold,  and, 
at  the  jubilee,  should  return  to  its  first  mas- 

*  Tlic  case  of  the  dauRlitors  of  Zclopliehad,  related 
ill  Niiiiil).  xxvir.  8,  procured  a  gotier.il  law  of  inherit- 
mice.  ]f  a  inan  died  willioiit  a  son,  lii.s  daughter!^ 
were  to  inherit :  if  williout  children,  his  brethren 
were  to  inherit  :  if  without  brethren,  his  uncle  was 
to  inherit :  if  without  uncle,  his  nearest  relation  was 
hit;  heir.  Grotius  says  (hat  this  law,  which  preferred 
an  uncle  before  a  nephew,  passed  from  the  .Tews  to 
tlie  Phcsnicians,  and  from  the  riiosnicinna  into  all 
.'Africa,  taurin.  Dissert.  Tom.  II.  Disc.  vii. 


80 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  GOD'S  WISDOM, 


[Ser.  V. 


ier  :  and  hence  it  is,  that  to  sell  an  estate /or 
■ever,  in  the  style  of  the  Jewish  jurisprudence 
is  to  mortgage  it  till  the  jubilee.  The  other 
restriction  was,  that  the  nearest  relation  of 
him  who  was  obliged  to  sell  his  land,  should 
have  the  right  of  purchasing  it  before  any 
others,  either  more  distant  relations  or  stran- 
gers. 

In  virtue  of  this  law,  Jeremiah  had  a  right 
to  purchase  an  estate,  which  Hanameel,  the 
son  of  Shallum,  had  offered  to  sale.  The 
land  lay  at  Anathoth,  a  town  in  the  tribe  of 
Benjamin,  where  our  prophet  was  born,  and 
was  actually  occupied  by  the  Chaldeans  at 
that  time.  Jerusalem  was  besieged,  and  Je- 
remiah was  fully  persuaded,  and  even  foretold 
that  it  would  be  taken  ;  that  the  Jews  would 
be  carried  away  into  captivity  ;  and  would 
not  be  re-established  in  their  own  country  till 
their  return  from  Babylon  at  the  expiration 
of  seventy  years.  What  a  time  to  purchase 
an  estate  !  What  a  season  to  improve  a  right 
of  redemption  ! 

But  this  command  of  God  to  the  prophet 
was  full  of  meaning  ;  God  gave  it  with  views 
similar  to,  but  incomparably  surer  than,  those 
which  the  Romans  had,  when  they  publicly 
offered  to  sell  the  land  where  Hannibal  was 
encamped  when  he  was  besieging  the  city  of 
Rome.  What  the  prophet  was  commanded 
to  do,  was  designed  to  be  an  image  of  what 
the  Jews  should  have  the  liberty  of  doing  af- 
ter their  re-establishment.  Ye  may  ascertain 
that  this  was  the  design  of  the  command 
given  to  Jeremiah,  if  ye  attend  to  the  words 
which  he  addressed  to  God  himself,  in  the 
twenty-fourth  verse  of  this  chapter  :  '  Behold 
the  mounts,  the  city  is  given  into  the  hands 
of  the  Chaldeans  :  and  thou  hast  said  unto 
me,  O  Lord  God,  buy  thee  the  field  for  mo- 
ney,' ver.  25.  27.  To  this  the  Lord  answers, 
«  Behold,  I  am  the  Lord,  the  God  of  all  flesh, 
is  there  any  thing  too  hard  for  me  .'  Like  as 
I  have  brought  all  this  great  evil  upon  this 
people,  so  I  will  bring  upon  them  all  the  good 
that  I  have  promised  them.  And  fields  shall 
be  bought  in  this  land,  whereof  ye  say,  It  is 
desolate  without  man  or  beast,  it  is  given  in- 
to the  hand  of  the  Chaldeans.  Men  shall  buy 
fields  for  money,  and  subscribe  evidences/ 
ver.  42—44. 

Jeremiah  entered  into  these  views,  obeyed 
the  command,  and  believed  the  promise  :  but, 
to  fortify  himself  against  such  doubts  as  the 
distance  of  its  accomplishment  might  perhaps 
produce  in  his  mind,  he  recollected  the  emi- 
nent perfections,  and  the  magnificent  works, 
of  him  from  whom  the  promise  came.  '  Now 
when  I  had  delivered  the  evidence  of  the  pur- 
chase unto  Baruch  (says  the  prophet,)  I  pray- 
ed unto  the  Lord,  saying,  Ah  !  Lord  God,  be- 
hold thou  hast  made  the  heaven  and  the  earth 
by  thy  great  power  and  stretched-out  arm, 
and  there  is  nothing  too  hard  for  thee.  .  . 
.  .  Thou  art  the  great,  llie  mighty  God, 
the  Lord  of  hosts  is  thy  name,  great  in  coun- 
eel,  and  mighty  in  work.' 

The  considering  of  the  circumstances  that 
attended  the  text  is  a  sufficient  determination 
of  its  end  and  design.  The  prophet's  mean- 
ing, which  is  quite  clear,  is,  that  the  wisdom 
of  God  perfectly  comprehended  all  thrit  would 
be  necessary  to  re-establish  the  Jewish  exiles 


in  their  own  land  ;  and  that  his  power  could 
effect  it.  The  words  are,  however,  capable 
of  a  nobler  and  more  extensive  meaning,  and 
in  this  larger  view  we  intend  to  consider 
them.  God  is  '  great  in  counsel,'  either,  as 
the  words  may  be  translated,  '  great  in  de- 
signing, and  mighty  in  executing  :'  or,  as  the 
same  phrase  is  rendered  in  Isaiah,  '  wonder- 
ful in  counsel,  and  excellent  in  working," 
xxviii.  2!).  We  will  endeavour  to  give  you  a 
just  notion  of  this  sublime  subject  in  two  dif- 
ferent views. 

I.  We  will  consider  the  subject  specula- 
tively. 

II.  We  will  consider  it  in  a  practical  light. 

We  intend  by  considering  the  subject  spe- 
culatively, to  evince  the  truth  of  the  subject, 
the  demonstration  of  which  is  very  important 
to  us.  By  considering  it  practically,  we  in 
tend  to  convince  }'ou  on  the  one  hand,  of  the 
monstrous  extravagance  of  those  men,  those 
little  rays  of  intelligence,  who,  according  to 
the  wise  man,  pretend  to  set  their  '  wisdom 
and  counsel  against  the  Lord,'  Prov.  xxi.  30  ; 
and  on  the  other,  of  the  wisdom  of  those,  who, 
while  they  regulate  their  conduct  by  his  laws 
alone,  commit  their  peace,  their  life,  and  their 
salvation,  to  the  care  of  his  providence.  This 
is  what  I  propose  to  lay  before  you. 

I.  '  O  Lord,  thou  art  great  in  counsel,  and 
mighty  in  work.'  Let  us  consider  this  pro- 
position speculatively.  I  shall  establish  it  on 
two  kinds  of  proofs.  The  first  shall  be  taken 
from  the  nature  of  God  :  the  second  from  the 
history  of  the  world,  or  rather  from  the  his- 
tory of  the  church. 

1.  My  first  proofs  shall  be  taken  from  the 
nature  of  God ;  not  that  it  belongs  to  a 
preacher  to  go  very  deeply  into  so  profound  a 
subject,  nor  to  his  auditors  to  follow  all  the 
reflections  that  he  could  make  :  yet  we  wish, 
when  we  speak  of  the  Supreme  Being,  that 
we  might  not  be  always  obliged  to  speak  su- 
perficially, under  pretence  that  we  always 
speak  to  plain  people.  We  wish  ye  had  some- 
times the  laudable  ambition,  especially  when 
ye  assist  in  this  sacred  place,  of  elevating 
your  minds  to  those  sublime  objects,  of  the 
meditation  of  which,  the  occupations,  to  which 
your  frailties  and  miseries,  or,  shall  I  rather 
say,  your  vitiated  tastes,  enslave  you,  ye  are 
deprived  in  the  ordinary  course  of  your  lives. 

The  nature  of  God  proves  that  he  is  '  great 
in  counsel.'  Consider  the  perfect  knowledge 
that  he  has  of  all  possible  beings,  as  well  as 
of  all  the  beings  which  do  actually  exist.  We 
are  not  only  incapable  of  thoroughly  under- 
standing the  knowledge  that  he  has  of  possi- 
ble beings  ;  but  we  are  even  incapable  of 
forming  any  idea  of  it.  I  am  not  sure  that 
the  reduction  of  all  the  objects  of  our  know- 
ledge to  two  ideas  is  founded  in  reason.  I  do 
not  know  whether  we  be  not  guilty  of  some 
decrree  of  temerity  in  comprising  all  real  ex- 
istences in  two  classes  :  a  class  of  bodies,  and 
a  class  of  spirits.  I  leave  this  question  to  phi- 
losophers ;  but  I  maintain,  that  it  argues  the 
highest  presumption  to  affirm,  even  allowing 
that  every  being  within  our  knowledge  is  ei- 
ther body  or  spirit,  that  every  thing  must  be 
reducible  to  one  of  these  classes,  that  not  only 
all  real  existence,  but  even  all  possible  exist- 
ence, must  necessarily  be  either  body  or  spirit. 


Ser.  v.] 


AND  ABUNDANCE  OF  HIS  POWER. 


11 


I  wonder  how  human  capacities,  contracted 
as  they  are  within  hmits  so  narrow,  dare  be 
60  bold  as  to  prescribe  bounds  to  their  Creator, 
and  to  restrain  his  intelhgence  within  their 
own  sphere.  If  it  were  allowable  to  advance 
any  thing  upon  the  most  abstract  subject  that 
can  be  proposed,  I  would  venture  to  say  that 
it  is  highly  probable,  that  the  same  depth  of 
divine  intelligence,  which  conceived  the  ideas 
of  body  and  spirit,  conceives  other  ideas  with- 
out end  :  it  is  highly  probable,  that  possibility 
(if  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so),  has  no  other 
bounds  than  the  infinite  knowledge  of  the  Su- 
preme Being.  What  an  unfathomable  depth 
of  meditation,  my  brethren  !  to  glance  at  it  is 
to  confound  one's  self  What  would  our  per- 
plexity be  if  we  should  attempt  to  enter  it  ? 
The  knowledge  of  all  possible  beings,  diver- 
sified without  end  by  the  same  intelligence 
that  imagines  them:  what  designs,  or,  as  our 
prophet  expresses  himself,  what  "^  greatness  of 
counsel'  does  it  afford  the  Supreme  Being  ! 

But  let  us  not  lose  ourselves  in  the  world  of 
possible  beings ;  let  us  confine  our  attention 
to  Topl  existences :  I  am  willing  even  to  re- 
duce them  to  the  two  classes,  which  are  just 
now  mentioned.  Let  each  of  you  imagine,  I 
my  brethren,  as  far  as  his  ability  can  reach, 
how  s^reat  the  counsel  of  an  intelligence  must 
be,  v/ho  perfectly  knows  all  that  can  result 
from  the  various  arrangements  of  matter,  and 
from  the  different  modifications  of  mind. 

What  greatness  of  counsels  must  there  be 
in  an  intelligence,  who  perfectly  knows  all 
that  can  result  from  the  various  arrangements 
of  matter  ?  What  is  matter  ?  What  is  body  .' 
It  is  a  being  divisible  into  parts,  which  parts 
may  be  variously  arranged  without  end,  and 
from  which  as  many  different  bodies  may 
arise,  as  there  can  be  diversities  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  their  parts.  Let  us  proceed 
from  small  things  to  great.  Put  a  grain  of 
wheat  to  a  little  earth,  warm  that  earth  with 
the  rays  of  the  sun,  and  the  grain  of  wheat 
will  become  an  ear  laden  with  a  great  many 
grains  like  that  which  produces  them.  Give 
the  parts  of  these  grains  an  arrangement  dif- 
ferent from  that  which  they  had  in  the  ear, 
separate  the  finer  from  the  coarser  parts,  mix 
a  few  drops  of  water  with  the  former,  and  ye 
will  procure  a  paste  :  produce  a  small  altera- 
tion of  the  parts  of  this  paste,  and  it  will  be- 
come bread :  let  the  bread  be  bruised  with 
the  teeth,  and  it  will  become  flesh,  bone, 
blood,  and  so  on.  The  same  reasoning,  that 
we  have  applied  to  a  grain  of  wheat,  may  be 
applied  to  a  piece  of  gold,  or  a  bit  of  clay,  and 
we  know  what  a  multitude  of  arts  in  society 
have  been  produced  by  the  knowledge  which 
mankind  have  obtained  of  the  different  ar- 
rangements of  which  matter  is  capable. 

But  mankind  can  perceive  only  one  point  of 
matter  ;  a  point  placed  between  two  infinites  ; 
an  infinitely  great,  and  an  infinitely  small. 
Two  sorts  of  bodies  exist  besides  those  that 
are  the  objects  of  our  senses,  one  sort  is  infi- 
nitely great,  the  other  infinitely  small.  Those 
enormous  masses  of  matter,  of  which  we  have 
only  a  glimpse,  are  bodies  infinitely  great, 
such  as  the  sun,  the  stars,  and  an  endless 
number  of  worlds  in  the  immensity  of  space, 
to  us  indeed  imperceptible,  but  the  existence 
of  which,  however,  we  are  obUgcd  to  allow. 


Bodies  infinitely  small  are  those  minute  par- 
ticles of  matter,  which  are  too  fine  and  subtle 
to  be  subject  to  our  experiments,  and  seem  to 
us  to  have  no  solidity,  only  because  oui  senses 
are  too  gross  to  discover  them,  but  which 
lodge  an  infinite  number  of  organized  beings 
Having  laid  down  these  indisputable  data, 
let  us  see  what  may  be  argued  from  them.  If 
the  knowledge  that  men  have  obtained  of  one 
portion  of  matter,  and  a  few  different  arrange- 
ments of  which  it  is  capable,  has  produced  a 
great  number  of  arts  that  make  society  flour- 
ish, and  without  the  help  of  which  life  itself 
would  be  a  burden ;  what  would  follow  if 
they  could  discover  all  matter  ?  What  would 
follow  their  knowledge  of  those  other  bodies, 
which  now  absorb  their  capacities  by  their 
greatness,  and  escape  their  experiments  by 
their  littleness  ?  What  would  follow  if  they 
could  obtain  adequate  ideas  of  the  various  ar- 
rangements of  which  the  parts  of  bodies  infi- 
nitely great,  and  those  of  bodies  infinitely 
small,  are  capable  .''  What  secrets  !  what  arts ! 
what  an  infinite  source  of  supplies  would  that 
knowledge  become .'' 

Now  this,  my  brethren,  is  the  knowledge 
of  the  Supreme  Being.  The  Supreme  Being 
knows  as  perfectly  all  bodies  infinitely  great, 
and  all  bodies  infinitely  small,  as  he  knows 
those  bodies  between  both,  which  are  the  ob- 
jects of  human  knowledge.  The  Supreme 
Being  perfectly  knows  what  must  result  from 
every  different  arrangement  of  the  parts  of 
bodies  iRfinitely  small ;  and  he  perfectly 
knows  what  must  result  from  every  different 
arrangement  of  the  parts  of  bodies  infinitely 
great.  What  treasures  of  plans  !  what  myri- 
ads of  designs !  or,  to  use  the  language  of 
my  text,  what  greatness  of  counsel  must  thia 
knowledge  supply ! 

But  God  knows  spirits  also  as  perfectly  as 
he  knows  bodies.  If  he  knows  all  that  must 
result  from  the  various  arrangements  of  mat- 
ter, he  also  knows  all  that  must  result  from 
the  different  modifications  of  mind.  Let  us 
pursue  the  same  method  in  this  article  that 
we  have  pursued  in  the  former ;  let  us  pro- 
ceed from  small  things  to  great  ones.  One  of 
the  greatest  advantages  that  a  man  can  ac-' 
quire  over  other  men  with  whom  he  is  con 
nected,  is  a  knowledge  of  their  different  ca- 
pacities, the  various  passions  that  govern 
them,  and  the  multiform  projects  that  run  in 
their  minds.  This  kind  of  knowledge  forms 
profound  politicians,  and  elevates  them  above 
the  rest  of  mankind.  The  same  observation^ 
that  we  have  made  of  the  superiority  of  one 
politician  over  another  politician,  we  may  ap- 
ply to  one  citizen  compared  with  another  cit- 
izen. The  interest  which  we  have  in  discov- 
ering the  designs  of  our  neighbours  in  a  city, 
a  house,  or  a  family,  is  in  the  little  what  policy 
among  princes  and  potentates  is  in  the  great 
world. 

But  as  I  just  now  said  of  the  material  world, 
that  we  knew  only  one  point,  which  was  pla- 
ced between  two  undiscoverable  infinites,  an 
infinitely  great,  and  infinitely  small ;  so  I  say  of 
the  world  of  spirits :  an  infinite  number  of 
spirits  exist,  which,  in  regard  to  us,  are  some 
of  them  infinitely  minute,  and  others  infinitely 
grand.  We  are  ignorant  of  the  manner  of 
their  existence ;    we  hardly  know  whether 


82 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  GOD'S  WISDOM, 


[Ser.  V. 


they  do  exist.  We  are  incapable  of  determin- 
ing whether  they  have  any  influence  over  our 
happiness,  or,  if  they  have,  in  what  their  in- 
fluence consists :  so  that  in  this  respect  we 
are  absolutely  incapable  o^  counsel. 

But  God  the  Supreme  Being  knows  the  in- 
telligent world  as  perfectly  as  he  knows  the 
material  world.  Human  spirits,  of  which  we 
have  but  an  imperfect  knowledge,  are  tho- 
roughly known  to  him.  He  knows  the  concep- 
tions of  our  minds,  the  passions  of  our  hearts, 
all  our  purposes,  and  all  our  powers.  The 
conceptions  of  our  minds  are  occasioned  by 
the  agitation  of  our  brains  ;  God  knows  when 
the  brain  will  be  agitated,  and  when  it  will  be 
at  rest,  and  before  it  is  agitated  he  knows 
what  determinations  will  be  produced  by  its 
motion :  consequently  he  knows  all  the  con- 
ceptions of  our  minds.  Our  passions  are  ex- 
cited by  the  presence  of  certain  objects  ;  God 
knows  when  those  objects  will  be  present,  and 
consequently  lie  knows  whether  we  shall  be 
moved  with  desire  or  aversion,  hatred  or  love. 
When  our  passions  are  excited  we  form  cer- 
tain purposes  to  gratify  them,  and  these  pur- 
poses will  either  be  effected  or  defeated  ac- 
cording that  degree  of  natural  or  civil 
power  which  God  has  given  us.  God,  who 
gave  us  our  degree  of  power,  knows  how  far 
it  can  go ;  and  consequently  he  knows  not 
only  what  purposes  we  form,  but  what  power 
we  have  to  e.xecute  them. 

But  what  is  this  object  of  the  divine  know- 
ledge .'  What  is  this  handful  of  mankind,  in 
comparison  of  all  the  other  spirits  that  com- 
pose the  whole  intelligent  world,  of  which  we 
are  only  an  inconsiderable  part  ?  God  knows 
them  as  he  knows  us ;  and  he  diversifies  the 
counsels  of  his  own  wisdom  according  to  the 
different  thoughts,  deliberations,  and  wishes, 
of  these  different  spirits.  Wliat  a  depth  of 
knowledge,  my  brethren !  What  '  greatness 
of  counsel  !  Ah,  Lord  God,  behold  thou  hast 
made  the  heaven  and  the  earth  by  thy  great 
power  and  stretched-out  arm,  and  there  is 
nothing  too  hard  for  thee.  The  great,  the 
mighty  God,  the  Lord  of  hosts  is  thy  name, 
thou  art  great  in  counsel.' 

We  have  proved  then,  by  considering  the 
divine  perfections,  that  God  is  great  in  coun- 
sel, and  we  shall  endeavour  to  prove  by  the 
same  method,  that  he  is  mighty  in  work. 

These  two,  wisdom  and  power,  are  not  al- 
ways united;  yet  it  is  on  their  union  that  the 
happiness  of  intelligent  beings  depends.  It 
would  be  often  better  to  be  quite  destitute  of 
both,  than  to  possess  one  in  a  very  great,  and 
the  other  in  a  very  small  degree.  Wisdom 
very  often  serves  only  to  render  him  misera- 
ble, who  is  destitute  of  power  ;  as  power  often 
becomes  a  source  of  misery  to  him  who  is 
destitute  of  wisdom. 

Have  ye  never  observed,  my  brethren,  that 
people  of  the  finest  and  most  enlarged  genius- 
es, have  often  the  least  success  of  any  people 
in  the  world .'  This  may  appear  at  first  sight 
very  unaccountable,  but  a  little  attention  will 
explain  the  mystery.  A  narrow  contracted 
mind  usually  concentres  itself  in  one  single 
object:  it  wholly  employs  itself  in  forming 
projects  of  happmess  proportional  to  its  own 
capacity,  andj  as  its    capacity  is  extremely 


j  shallow,  it  easily  meets  with  the  means 
of  executing  them.  But  this  is  not  the 
case  with  a  man  of  superior  genius,  whose 
fruitful  fancy  forms  notions  of  happiness 
grand  and  sublime.  He  invents  noble  plans, 
involuntarily  gives  himself  up  to  his  own 
chimeras,  and  derives  a  pleasure  from  these 
ingenious  shadows,  which  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, compensate  for  their  want  of  substance: 
but  when  his  reverie  is  over,  he  finds  real  be- 
ings inferior  to  ideal  ones,  and  thus  his  genius 
serves  to  make  him  miserable.  A  man  is 
much  to  be  pitied  in  my  opinion,  when  the  pe- 
netration of  his  mind,  and  the  fruitfulness  of 
his  invention,  furnish  him  with  ideas  of  a  de- 
lightful society  cemented  by  a  faithful,  solid, 
and  delicate  friendship.  Recall  him  to  this 
world,  above  which  his  imagination  had  just 
now  raised  him  ;  consider  him  among  men, 
who  know  nothing  of  friendship  but  its  name, 
or  wlio  have  at  best  only  a  superficial  know- 
ledge of  it,  and  ye  will  be  convinced  that  the 
art  of  inventing  is  often  the  art  of  self-torment- 
ing, or,  as  I  said  before,  that  greatness  of 
counsels  destitute  of  abundance  of  power  is  a 
source  of  infelicity. 

It  is  just  the  same  with  abundance  of  power 
vfiWionX,  greatness  of  counsels.  What  does  it 
avail  to  possess  great  riches,  to  reign  over  a 
great  people,  to  command  formidable  fleets 
and  armies,  when  this  power  is  not  accompa 
nied  with  wisdom  ? 

In  God,  the  Supreme  Being,  there  is  a  per- 
fect harmony  of  wisdom  and  power  :  the  effi- 
ciency of  his  will,  and  the  extent  of  his  know- 
ledge are  equal.  But  I  own  I  am  afraid,  were 
I  to  pursue  my  meditation,  and  to  attempt  to 
establish  this  proposition  by  proofs  taken  from 
the  divine  nature,  that  I  should  lose,  if  not 
myself,  at  least  one  part  of  my  hearers,  by 
aiming  to  conduct  them  into  a  world,  with 
which  they  are  entirely  unacquainted.  Plow- 
ever,  I  must  say,  that  with  reluctance  I  make 
this  sacrifice,  for  I  suppress  speculations, 
which  would  afford  no  small  degree  of  pleas- 
ure to  those  who  could  pursue  them.  It  is 
delightful  to  elevate  our  souls  in  meditating 
on  the  grandeur  of  God  ;  and  although  God 
'  dwelleth  in  a  light  which  no  man  can  ap- 
proach unto,'  1  Tim.  vi.  16.  although  it  is  im- 
possible  for  feeble  mortals  to  have  a  free  ac- 
cess to  him ;  yet  it  is  pleasing  to  endeavour  to 
diminish  the  distance  that  separates  them.  I 
cannot  but  think,  that  without  presuming  too 
much  upon  natural  reason,  any  one  who  ha- 
bituates himself  to  consult  it,  may  assure  him- 
self of  finding  sufficient  evidence  of  this  truth, 
that  the  efficiency  of  God's  will  is  equal  to  the 
extensiveness  of  his  ideas,  and  by  close  and 
necessary  consequence,  that  he  is  as  mighty 
in  work  as  he  is  great  in  counsel. 

Carry  your  thoughts  back  into  those  periods 
in  which  the  Perfect  Being  existed  alone. 
Sound  reason  must  allow  that  he  has  so  exist- 
ed. What  could  then  have  been  the  rule  or 
model  of  beings  which  should  in  future  exist  ? 
The  ideas  of  God  were  those  models.  And 
what  could  cause  those  beings  that  had  only 
an  ideal  existence  in  the  intelligence  of  God, 
actually  to  exist  out  of  it  ?  The  efficiency  of 
his  will  was  the  cause.  The  will  of  the  same 
Being  then,  whose  ideas  had  been  the  cxcm- 


Ser.  v.] 


AND  ABUNDANCE  OF  HIS  POWER. 


83 


plars,  or  models,  or  the  attributes  of  creatures, 
caused  their  existence.  The  Supreme  Being 
therefore,  who  is '  great  in  counsel,'  is  '  migh- 
ty in  work.' 

This  being  granted,  consider  now  the  ocean 
of  God's  poiocr,  as  ye  have  already  consider- 
ed the  greatness  of  his  counsel.  God  not 
only  knows  what  motion  of  your  brain  will 
excite  such  or  such  an  idea  in  your  n^nd,  but 
he  excites  or  prevents  that  idea  as  he  pleases, 
because  he  produces  or  prevents  that  motion 
'  of  your  brain  as  he  pleases.  God  not  only 
knows  what  objects  will  excite  certain  pas- 
sions within  you,  but  he  excites  or  diverts 
those  passions  as  he  pleases.  God  not  only 
knows  what  projects  your  passions  will  pro- 
duce, when  they  have  gained  an  ascendancy 
over  you,  but  he  inclines  you  to  form,  or  not 
to  form,  such  projects,  because  as  it  seems 
best  to  him,  he  excites  those  passions,  or  he 
curbs  them. 

What  we  affirm  of  men,  we  affirm  also  of 
all  other  intelligent  beings  :  they  are  no  less 
the  objects  of  the  knowledge  of  God  than 
men,  and  like  them,  are  equally  subject  to 
his  efficient  will :  and  hence  it  is  that  God 
knows  how  to  make  all  fulfil  his  designs.  It 
is  by  this  that  he  makes  every  thing  subser- 
vient to  his  glory  ;  Herod  and  Pilate,  our 
hatred  and  our  love,  our  aversions  and  our 
desires  ;  the  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
intelligences,  some  of  which  are  superior  to 
us,  and  others  inferior,  all  that  they  are,  all 
that  they  have,  the  praises  of  the  blessed  and 
the  blasphemies  of  the  damned,  all  by  this 
mean  are  instrumental  in  the  execution  of  his 
designs,  because  the  determinations  of  his 
will  are  efficient,  because  to  will  and  to  do,  to 
form  a  "plan  and  to  have  the  power  of  exe- 
cuting it,  is  the  same  thing  with  the  Supreme 
Being,  with  him  whose  ideas  were  the  only 
models  of  the  attributes  of  all  creatures,  as 
his  will  was  the  only  cause  of  their  existence. 
But  perhaps  I  am  falling  into  what  I  meant 
to  avoid  ;  perhaps  I  am  bewildering  my  hear- 
ers and  myself  in  speculative  labyrinths  too 
intricate  for  us  all.  Let  us  reason  then  no 
longer  on  the  nature  of  God  ;  this  object  is 
too  high  for  us :  let  us  take  another  method, 
(and  here  I  allege  the  second  proof  of  the 
truth  of  my  text,  that  is,  the  history  of  the 
world,  or  as  I  said  before,  the  history  of  the 
church  :)  let  us  take,  i  say,  another  method 
of  proving  that  God  who  is  '  great  in  coun- 
sel,' is  also  '  mighty  in  work.'  What  coun- 
sel can  ye  imagine  too  great  for  God  to 
execute,  or  which  he  hath  not  really  execut- 
ed .'  Let  the  most  fruitful  imagination  exert 
its  fertility  to  the  utmost  ;  let  it  make  every 
possible  effort  to  form  plans  worthy  of  an  in- 
finite intelligence,  it  can  invent  nothing  so 
difficult  that  God  has  not  realized. 

It  should  seem,  according  to  our  manner  of 
reasoning,  that  greatness  of  wisdom  and  svf- 
ficiency  of  poioer  never  appear  in  greater  har- 
mony in  an  intelligent  being,  than  when  that 
intelligence  produces  effects  by  means,  in  all 
appearance,  more  likely  to  produce  contrary 
effects.  This,  we  are  sure,  God  has  effected, 
and  does  effect  every  day.  And,  that  we  may 
proportion  this  discourse,  not  to  the  extent  of 
my  subject,  but  to  tiie  length  of  these  exer- 
cises, we  will  briefly  remark,  that  God  has 


the  power  of  making,  1.  The  deepest  afflic- 
tions of  his  children  produce  their  highest 
happiness.  2.  The  contrivances  of  tyrants 
to  oppress  the  church  procure  its  establish- 
ment. 3.  The  triumphs  of  Satan  turn  to  the 
destruction  of  his  empire. 

1.  God  has  the  power  of  making  the  deep- 
est of  his  children's  afflictions  produce  their 
highest  happiness. 

The  felicity  of  the  children  of  God,  and,  in 
general,  the  felicity  of  all  intelligent  beings, 
is  founded  upon  order.  All  happiness  that  is 
not  founded  upon  order  is  a  violent  state,  and 
must  needs  be  of  a  short  duration.  But  the 
essence  of  order,  among  intelligent  beings,  is 
the  assigning  of  that  place  in  their  affections 
to  every  relative  being  which  is  fit  for  it. 
Now  there  is  a  fitness  in  having  a  higher  es 
teem  for  a  being  of  great  excellencies,  than 
for  one  of  small.  There  is  a  fitness  in  my 
having  a  higher  degree  of  affection  for  one 
from  whom  I  have  received  more  benefits, 
and  from  whom  I  still  e-xpect  to  receive  more, 
than  for  one  from  whom  I  have  received,  and 
still  hope  to  receive,  fewer.  But  G®d  is  a 
being  of  the  highest  excellence  ;  to  God, 
therefore,  I  owe  the  highest  degree  of  esteem. 
God  is  the  being  from  whom  I  have  received 
the  most  benefits,  and  from  whom  I  expect  to 
receive  the  most ;  consequently  to  God  I  owe 
the  highest  degree  of  affectionate  gratitude. 
Yet,  how  often  do  the  children  of  God  lose 
sight  of  this  grand  principle  ?  I  do  not  speak 
only  of  a  few  absent  moments,  in  which  the 
power  of  thouglit  and  reflection  is,  in  a  man- 
ner, gone  ;  nor  do  I  mean  only  those  violent 
passions  which  criminal  objects  excite :  I 
speak  of  a  poison  much  less  sensible,  and 
therefore  perhaps  much  more  dangerous.  We 
will  give  you  one  example  out  of  many. 

Two  pious  persons  enter  into  the  honour- 
able state  of  marriage  on  principles  of  virtue, 
and  compose  a  family  that  reveres  the  Crea- 
tor by  considering  him  as  the  only  source  of 
all  the  blessings  which  they  enjoy.  Their 
happiness  consists  in  celebrating  the  benefi- 
cence and  perfections  of  the  adorable  God, 
and  all  their  possessions  they  devote  to  his 
glory.  He  blesses  their  union  by  multiplying 
those  who  compose  it,  and  their  children  im- 
bibe knowledge  and  virtue  from  the  womb. 
The  parents  taste  the  most  delicious  pleasure 
in  the  world,  in  cultivating  the  promising  ge- 
niuses of  their  children,  and  in  seeing  the 
good  grain,  which  they  sow  in  a  field  favour- 
ed of  Heaven,  produce  '  in  one  thirty,  in  an- 
other sixty,  in  another  a  hundred  fold  ;'  and 
they  delight  themselves  with  the  hopes  of 
giving  one  child  to  the  state,  and  another  to 
tJie  church  ;  this  to  an  art,  and  that  to  a  sci- 
ence, and  thus  of  enriching  society  with  the 
most  valuable  of  all  treasures,  virtuous  and 
capable  citizens.  All  on  a  sudden  this  deli- 
cious imion  is  impoisoned  and  dissolved  ;  this 
amiable  fondness  is  interrupted  ;  those  likely 
projects  are  disconcerted  :  an  unexpected  ca- 
tastrophe sweeps  away  tliat  fortune,  by  which 
alone  their  designs  for  their  family  could  have 
been  accomplished  ;  the  child  of  their  great- 
est hopes  is  cut  down  in  the  beginning  of  his 
race  ;  the  head  of  the  family  expires  at  a 
time  in  which  his  life  is  most  necessary  to  it. 
A  disconsolate  widow,  a  helpless  family,  ex- 


84 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  GOD'S  WISDOM, 


[Ser.  V. 


posed  to  every  danger,  are  the  sad  remains  of 
a  house  just  now  a  model  of  tlie  hig'hcst  hu- 
man happiness,  and,  in  all  appearance,  of 
the  purest  piety.  Is  not  this  the  depth  of 
misery  ? 

From  this  depth  of  misery,  however,  arises 
the  highest  felicity.  The  prosperity,  of  which 
we  have  been  speaking-,  was  so  much  the 
more  dangerous  by  how  much  the  more  inno- 
cent it  appeared  ;  for  if  the  persons  in  ques- 
tion had  founded  it  in  vice  ;  they  would  have 
quickly  forsaken  it,  as  wholly  incompatible 
with  their  pious  principles  ;  but,  as  they  had 
founded  it  in  piety,  there  is  great  reason  to 
fear  they  had  placed  too  much  of  their  happi- 
ness in  earthly  prosperity,  and  that  it  had  al- 
most entirely  engaged  the  attention  of  their 
minds,  and  set  bounds  to  the  desires  of  their 
hearts.  But  what  is  it  to  engage  the  mind 
too  much  in  temporal  prosperity  ^  It  is  to 
lose  sight  of  God,  our  chief  good,  in  a  world 
•where  at  best  we  can  obtain  but  an  imperfect 
knowledge  of  him.  What  is  it  to  confine  the 
desires  of  our  hearts  to  earthly  happiness  ^ 
It  is  to  forget  our  best  interest  in  a  world, 
where,  when  we  have  carried  that  love  which 
God  so  abundantly  merits,  to  the  highest 
pitch,  we  can  offer  him  but  a  very  imperfect 
service.  Every  object  that  produces  such  an 
effect,  occupies  a  place  in  the  heart  which  is 
due  to  none  but  God.  And  while  any  other 
fills  the  seat  of  God  in  the  heart,  we  may  in- 
deed have  a  kind  of  happiness,  but  it  must  be 
a  happiness  contrary  to  order  ;  it  is  violent 
and  must  be  short.  I  am  aware  that  the  loss 
will  be  bitter  in  the  same  degree  as  the  en- 
joyments had  been  sweet  ;  but  the  bitterness 
will  produce  ineffable  pleasures,  infinitely 
preferable  to  all  those  that  have  been  taken 
away.  It  will  reclaim  us  again  to  God,  the 
only  object  worthy  of  our  love,  the  alone  foun- 
tain of  all  our  felicity.  This  may  be  inferred 
from  many  declarations  of  Scripture,  and 
from  the  lives  of  many  exemplary  saints,  as 
well  as  from  your  own  experience,  if,  indeed, 
my  dear  hearers,  when  God  has  torn  away 
the  objects  of  your  tenderest  affection,  ye 
have  been  so  wise  as  to  make  tliis  use  of  your 
losses,  to  re-establish  order  in  your  hearts, 
■and  to  give  that  place  to  God  in  your  souls 
■which  the  object  held  of  which  ye  have  been 
<leprived. 

2.  God  establishes  his  church  by  the  very 
means  that  tyrants  use  to  destroy  it.  But 
the  reflections  which  naturally  belong  to  this 
article,  ye  heard  a  few  weeks  ago,  when  we 
explained  these  words  in  the  Revelation, 
'  Here  is  the  patience  of  the  saints,'*  Rev. 
xiii.  10.  We  endeavoured  then  to  prevent 
the  gloomy  fears  that  might  be  occasioned  in 
your  minds  by  those  new  edicts,  which  Rome, 
always  intent  upon  making  '  the  kings  of  the 
earth  drunk  with  her  fornication,'  Rev.  xvii. 
2.  had  extorted  against  your  brethren.  We 
exhorted  you,  in  the  greatest  tribulations  of 
the  church,  never  to  lose  sight  of  that  Divine 
Providence  which  watches  to  preserve  it. 

We  reminded  you  of  some  great  truths 
which  proceeded  from  the  mouth  of  God  him- 
self; such  as,  that  the  Assyrian  was  only  '  the 

*  This  is  the  seventh  sermon  of  the  twelftli  vol.  and 
M  entilled,  Lt  J^ouvcauz  Malheurt  dt  V  Eglise. 


rod  of  his  anger/  Isa.  x.  5.  that  Herod  and 
Pilate  did  only  '  what  his  hand  and  his  coun- 
sel determined  before  to  be  done,'  Acts  iv.  27, 
28.  These  truths  should  be  always  in  our 
minds  ;  for  there  never  was  a  time  when  we 
had  more  need  to  meditate  on  them.  The 
distresses  of  our  brethren  seem  to  be  past  re- 
medy. To  incorporate  our  felicity  with  that 
of  a  church,  a  considerable  part  of  which  has 
been  so  long  bathed  in  tears,  seems  as  irra- 
tional as  the  conduct  of  Jeremiah,  who,  just 
before  the  dissolution  of  Judea,  purchased  an" 
estate  in  that  devoted  country  with  the  mo- 
ney which  he  wanted  to  alleviate  his  captivi- 
ty in  Babylon.  Yet,  '  O  Lord  God,  the  God 
of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh,  is  there  any  thing 
too  hard  for  thee  .'  Thou  hast  made  the  hea- 
ven and  the  earth  by  thy  great  power,  and  by 
thy  stretched-out  arm.  Thou  art  the  great, 
the  mighty  God,  the  Lord  of  hosts  is  thy 
name  ;  great  in  counsel,  and  mighty  in  work,' 
Numb.  xvi.  22. 

3.  Finally,  God  turns  the  victories  of  Sa- 
tan to  the  ruin  of  his  empire.  Here  fix  your 
attention  upon  the  work  of  redemption,  for 
the  perfections  of  God,  which  we  celebrate 
to-day,  are  more  illustriously  displayed  in  it 
than  in  any  other  of  the  Creator's  wonders. 
It  is,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  express  myself 
so,  the  utmost  effort  of  the  concurrence  of  the 
greatness  of  his  counsels  with  the  abundance 
of  his  power.  I  resume  this  subject,  not  for 
the  sake  of  filling  up  my  plan,  but  because  my 
text  cannot  be  well  explained  without  it. 
Those  inspired  writers,  who  lived  under  the 
Old  Testament  dispensation,  always  mixed 
something  of  the  gospel  redemption  with  the 
temporal  deliverances  which  they  foretold. 
One  of  the  strongest  reasons  that  they  urged 
to  convince  the  Jewish  exiles  that  God  would 
restore  their  country  to  them,  was  that  their 
return  was  essential  to  the  accomplishment 
of  the  promises  relating  to  the  Messiah.  Je- 
remiah particularly  uses  this  method  in  the 
verses  which  are  connected  with  the  text. 
Why  does  he  exalt  the  greatness  of  Gsod's 
counsel,  and  the  abundance  of  his  power .'  Is 
it  only  because,  as  he  expresses  it,  '  God 
would  gather  the  Jews  out  of  all  countries 
whither  he  had  driven  them  in  his  fury,'  Jer. 
xxxii.  37.  so  that  '  men  should  buy  fields  in 
the  places  about  Jerusalem  .'"  No,  but  it  is 
because  he  '  would  make  an  everlasting  cove- 
nant with  them,'  Jer.  xxxii.  40.  It  is  because 
'  at  that  time  he  would  cause  the  branch  of 
righteousness  to  grow  up  unto  David,'  Jer. 
xxxiii.  15.  Who  is  this  branch  ?  It  is  he  of 
whom  our  prophet  had  before  spoken  in  the 
twenty-third  chapter  of  his  prophecy,  ver.  5. 
'  Behold  the  days  come  that  I  will  raise  unto 
David  a  righteous  branch.'  It  is  he  of  whom 
Isaiah  said,  '  The  branch  of  the  Lord  shall  be 
beautiful  and  glorious,'  Isa.  iv.  2.  It  is  he 
whom  God  promised  by  Zechariah,  after  the 
captivity,  in  order  to  convince  the  Jews  that 
the  promises  concerning  the  branch  had  not 
been  accomplished  by  their  release  :  '  Behold 
the  man  whose  name  is  The  Branch,  he  shall 
grow  up  out  of  his  place,  and  he  shall  build 
the  temple  of  the  Lord,'  Zech.  vi.  12.  It  is 
he  whom  the  Jews  themselves  have  acknow- 
ledged for  the  Messiah.  It  is  the  holy  seed 
who  was  promised  to  man  after  the  fall,  and 


Seb.  v.] 


AND  ABUNDANCE  OF  HIS  POWER. 


a3 


who  has  been  the  object  of  the  church's  hope 
in  all  ages.  It  is  eminently  in  behalf  of  this 
branch  that  God  has  displayed,  as  I  said  be- 
fore, in  all  their  grandeur,  the  abundance  of 
his  power,  and  the  greatness  of  his  counsel.  I 
do  not  speak  here  of  that  counsel,  which  has^ 
been  from  all  eternity,  in  the  intelligence  of 
God,  touching  the  redemption  of  mankind. 
My  capacity  is  absorbed,  I  own,  in  contem- 
plating so  grand  an  object,  and  to  admire  and 
to  exclaim  seem  more  suitable  to  our  finite 
minds  than  to  attempt  to  fathom  such  a  pro- 
digious depth  ;  for  where  is  the  genius  that 
can  form  adequate  ideas  of  a  subject  so  pro- 
found .'  A  God,  who,  from  all  eternity,  form- 
ed the  plan  of  this  universe  :  a  God,  who, 
from  all  eternity,  foresaw  whatever  would 
result  from  its  arrangement :  a  God,  who, 
from  all  eternity,  resolved  to  create  mankind, 
although  he  knew  from  all  eternity  that  they 
would  fall  into  sin,  and  plunge  themselves  in- 
to everlasting  miseries  :  but  a  God,  who,  fore- 
seeing from  all  eternity  the  malady,  from  all 
eternity  provided  the  remedy  :  a  God,  who, 
from  everlasting  determined  to  clothe  his  Son 
in  mortal  flesh,  and  to  send  him  into  the  world : 
a  God,who,  according  to  the  language  of  Scrip- 
ture, slew,  in  his  design  from  all  eternity,  the 
lamb  ...  .  Rev.  xiii.  8.  But,  I  repeat  it 
again,  my  brethren,  it  better  becomes  such 
feeble  minds  as  ours  to  admire  and  to  exclaim, 
than  to  attempt  to  fathom.  Let  us  content 
ourselves  with  beholding  in  the  execution  of 
this  divine  plan,  how  the  victories  of  Satan 
have  subverted  his  empire. 

What  a  victory  for  Satan,  when  that  Re- 
deemer, that  king  Messiah,  whose  advent  had 
been  announced  with  so  much  pomp  and  mag- 
nificence, appeared  in  a  form  so  mean,  and 
80  inferior  to  the  expectations  which  the  pro- 
phecies had  occasioned,  and  to  the  extraordi- 
nary work  for  which  he  came  into  the  world, 
when  he  lodged  in  a  stable,  and  lay  in  a 
manger  ! 

What  a  triumph  for  Satan,  when  Jesus  had 
no  attendants  but  a  few  forlorn  fishermen, 
and  a  few  publicans,  as  contemptible  as  their 
master  ! 

What  a  victory  for  Satan,  when  Jesus  was 
apprehended  as  a  malefactor,  dragged  from 
one  tribunal  to  another,  and,  in  fi^ne,  con- 
demned by  his  judges  to  die  ! 

What  a  victory  had  Satan  obtained,  when 
the  object  of  Israel's  hopes  was  nailed  to  an 
accursed  tree,  and  there  ended  a  life,  upon 
which  seemed  to  depend  the  salvation  of 
mankind  ! 

What  a  triumphant  victory  for  Satan,  wlien 
he  had  inspired  the  nation  of  the  risen  Re- 
deemer to  treat  the  report  of  his  resurrection 
as  an  imposture,  and  to  declare  an  everlasting' 
war  against  him  in  the  persons  of  all  who 
durst  declare  in  his  favour  ! 

But,  however,  the  more  impracticable  the 
redemption  of  mankind  seemed,  the  more  did 
God  display  the  greatness  of  his  counsel,  and 
the  abundance  of  his  power,  in  effecting  it  ; 
for  he  turned  all  the  triumphs  of  Satan  to  the 
destruction  of  his  dominion. 

The  Branch  was  lodged  in  a  stable,  the  king 
of  the  universe  did  lie  in  a  manger  ;  but  a 
star  in  the  heavens  announced  his  birth,  an- 
gels conducted  worshippers  to  him  from  the 


most  distant  eastern  countries,  and  joined 
their  own  adorations  to  those  of  the  wis* 
men,  who  offered  to  him  their  gold,  their 
frankincense,  and  their  myrrh. 

His  attendants  were  only  a  few  fishermen 
and  publicans  ;  but  this  served  the  more  ef- 
fectually  to  secure  his  doctrine  from  the  most 
odious  objections  that  could  be  opposed 
against  it.  The  meaner  the  vessel  appears, 
the  more  excellent  seems  the  treasure  con- 
tained in  it :  the  weaker  the  instruments  em* 
ployed  in  building  the  church  appear,  the 
more  evident  will  the  ability  of  the  builder 
be.  These  fishermen  confounded  philoso- 
phers ;  these  publicans  struck  the  Rabbina 
dumb  ;  the  winds  and  the  waves  were  subject 
to  their  authority  ;  and  to  their  commanda 
all  the  powers  of  nature  were  seen  to  bow. 

He  was  apprehended  like  a  malefactor,  and 
crucified  ;  but  upon  the  cross  he  bruised  the 
serpent's  head,  while  Satan  vaunted  of  bruis- 
ing his  heel.  Gen.  iii.  15.  Upon  the  crosa 
'  he  spoiled  principalities  and  powers,  and 
made  a  show  of  them  openly,  triumphing 
over  them  in  it,'  Col.  ii.  15. 

He  was  wrapped  in  burying  clothes,  laid 
on  a  bier,  and,  with  all  the  mournful  furni» 
ture  of  death,  deposited  in  a  tomb ;  but  by 
this  he  conquered  death,  and  disarmed  hinj 
of  his  sting,  1  Cor.  xv.  56.  By  this  he  fur- 
nished thee.  Christian,  with  armour  of  proof 
against  the  attacks  of  the  tyrant,  who  would 
enslave  thee,  and  whose  formidable  approach^ 
es  have  caused  thee  so  many  fears. 

He  was  rejected  by  his  own  countrymen, 
even  after  he  had  risen  victorious  from  the 
toinb,  laden  with  the  spoils  of  the  king  of  ter- 
rors,' Job  xviii.  15;  but  their  rejection  ofhira 
animated  his  apostles  to  shake  off  the  dust 
from  their  feet  against  those  execrable  men, 
who,  after  they  had  murdered  the  Master, 
endeavoured  to  destroy  the  disciples,  and  put 
them  upon  lifting  up  the  standard  of  the  crosB 
in  every  other  part  of  the  universe,  and  thu» 
the  heathen  world  was  bound  to  his  triumphal 
chariot,  and  the  whole  earth  saw  the  accom- 
plishment of  those  prophecies  which  had  fore- 
told that  he  should  reign  from  sea  to  sea,  and 
from  the  river  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.'  How 
great  the  counsel!  my  dear  brethren,  how 
mighty  the  icork ! '  Ah,  Lord  God,  therq  i^  no- 
thing too  hard  for  thee.'  Thou  art,  '  the 
great,  the  mighty  God,  the  Lord  of  hosts  is 
thy  name,  great  in  counsel  and  mighty  in 
work.' 

Here  we  may  pause,  and  very  properly 
come  to  a  conclusion  of  this  discourse  ;  for, 
though  we  proposed  at  first  to  consider  '  the 
greatness  of  God's  counsel  and  the  omnipo- 
tence of  his  working,'  in  a  practical  light,  after 
having  examined  them  speculatively,  yet,  I 
think  the  examination  of  the  subject  in  one 
point  of  light,  is  the  explication  of  it  in  both. 
When  we  have  proved  that  God  is  '  great  in 
counsel,  and  mighty  in  work,'  in  my  opinion, 
we  have  sufficiently  shown,  on  the  one  hand, 
the  extravagance  of  tiiose  madmen,  who,  in 
the  language  of  the  Wise  Man,  pretend  to 
exercise  '  wisdom  and  understanding,  and 
counsel,  against  the  Lord,'  Prov.  xxi.  20.  and 
on  tlie  other,  the  wisdom  of  those,  who,  tak- 
ing his  laws  for  the  only  rules  of  their  conver- 
sation, commit  their  peace,  their  lives,  and 


88 


THE  GREATNESS  OF  GOD'S  WISDOM,  &c. 


[Seh.  V. 


thefir  salvation,  to  tho  disposal  of  his  provi- 
dence. Only  let  us  take  care,  my  dear  breth- 
ren, (and  with  this  single  exhortation  we 
.  conclude,)  let  us  take  care,  that  we  do  not 
flatter  ourselves  into  an  opinion  that  we  pos- 
sess this  wisdom  while  we  are  destitute  of  it : 
and  let  us  take  care,  while  we  exclaim  against 
the  extravagance  of  those  madmen,  of  whom 
I  just  now  spoke,  that  wo  do  not  imitate  their 
dangerous  examples. 

But  what !  is  it  possible  to  find,  among 
beings  who  have  the  least  spark  of  reason, 
an  individual  mad  enough  to  suppose  himself 
wiser  than  that  God  who  is  '  great  in  counsel,' 
or,  is  there  one  who  dares  resist  a  God, 
'  mighty  in  working  .'"  My  brethren,  one  of 
the  most  difficult  questions,  that  we  meet 
with  in  the  study  of  human  nature,  is,  whether 
some  actions  in  men's  lives  proceed  from  in- 
tentions in  their  minds.  To  affirm,  or  to  deny, 
is  equally  difficult.  On  the  one  hand,  we 
can  hardly  believe  that  an  intelligent  crea- 
ture can  revolve  intentions  in  his  mind  direct- 
ly opposite  to  intelligence,  and  the  extrava- 
gance of  which  the  least  ray  of  intelligence 
seems  sufficient  to  discover.  On  the  other, 
we  can  hardly  think  it  possible,  that  this 
creature  should  follow  a  course  of  life  alto- 
gether founded  on  such  an  intention,  if  indeed 
ne  have  it  not  in  his  mind.  The  truth  is,  a 
question  of  this  kind  may  be  either  affirmed 
or  denied  according  to  the  different  lights  in 
which  it  is  considered.  Put  these  questions  to 
the  most  irregular  of  mankind :  Dost  thou 
pretend  to  oppose  God  .''  Hast  thou  the  pre- 
sumption to  attempt  to  prevail  over  him  by 
thy  superiority  of  knowledge  and  power  ?  Put 
these  questions  simply  apart  from  the  conduct, 
and  ye  will  hardly  meet  with  one  who  will 
not  answer  No.  But  examine  the  conduct, 
not  only  of  the  most  irregular  men,  but  even 
of  those  who  imagine  that  their  behaviour 
is  the  most  prudent;  penetrate  those  secret 
thoughts,  which  they  involve  in  darkness  in 
order  to  conceal  the  horror  of  them  from 
themselves ;  and  ye  will  soon  discover  that 
they,  who  answered  so  pertinently  to  your 
questions  when  ye  proposed  them  simply,  will 
actually  take  the  opposite  side  when  ye  pro- 
pose the  same  questions  relatively.  But  who 
then,  ye  will  ask  me,  who  are  those  men,  who 
presumptuously  think  of  overcoming  God  by 
their  superior  knowledge  and  power  .' 

Who  .■'  It  is  that  soldier,  who,  with  a  brutal 
courage,  defies  danger,  affronts  death,  reso- 
lutely marches  amidst  fires  and  flames,  even 
though  he  has  taken  no  care  to  have  an  inter- 
est in  the  Lord  of  hosts,  or  to  commit  his  soul 
to  his  trust. 

Who  ?  It  is  that  statesman,  who,  despising 
the  suggestions  of  evangelical  prudence,  pur- 
sues stratagems  altogether  worldly ;  who 
makes  no  scruple  of  committing  what  are 
called  state-crimes ;  who  with  a  disdainful 
air,  affects  to  pity  us,  when  we  affirm,  that 
the  most  advantageous  service  that  a  wise  le- 
gislator can  perform  for  society,  is  to  render 


the  Deity  propitious  to  it ;  that  the  happiest 
nations  are  tlioso  '  whose  God  is  the  Lord.' 
Ps.  xxxiii.  12. 

Who  .''  It  is  that  philosopher,  who  makes  a 
parade  of  I  know  not  what  stoical  firmness ; 
who  conceits  himself  superior  to  all  the  vicis- 
situdes of  life  ;  who  boasts  of  his  tranquil  ex- 
pectation of  death,  yea,  who  affects  to  desire 
its  approach,  for  the  sake  of  enjoying  the  plea- 
sure of  insulting  his  casuist,  who  has  ventu- 
red to  foretell  that  he  will  be  terrified  at  it. 

Who .'  It  is  that  voluptuary,  who  opposes 
to  all  our  exhortations  and  threatenings,  to 
the  most  affecting  denunciations  of  calamities 
from  God  in  this  life,  and  to  the  most  awful 
descriptions  ofjudgment  to  come  in|the  next, 
to  all  our  representations  of  hell,  of  an  eternity 
spent  in  the  most  execrable  company,  and  in 
the  most  excruciating  pain  ;  who  opposes  to 
all  these  the  buz  of  amusements,  the  hurry 
of  company,  gaming  at  home,  or  diversions 
abroad. 

Study  all  these  characters,  my  brethren, 
lay  aside  the  specious  appearances  that  men 
use  to  conceal  their  turpitude  from  themselves, 
and  ye  will  find  that,  to  dare  the  Deity,  to  pre- 
tend by  superior  knowledge  and  strength  to 
resist  the  wisdom  and  omnipotence  of  God,  is 
not  so  rare  a  disposition  as  ye  may  at  first 
have  supposed. 

Let  us  abhor  this  disposition  of  mind,  my 
brethren  ;  let  us  entertain  right  notions  of 
sin  ;  let  us  consider  him  who  commits  it  as  a 
madman,  who  has  taken  it  into  his  head  that 
he  has  more  knowledge  than  God,  the  foun- 
tain of  intelligence  ;  more  strength  than  He, 
beneath  whose  power  all  the  creatures  of  the 
universe  are  compelled  to  bow.  When  we 
are  tempted  by  sin,  let  us  remember  what  sin 
is  :  let  each  ask  himself.  What  can  I,  a  misera- 
ble man,  mean.'  Do  I  mean  to  provoke  the 
Lord  to  jealousy  ?  Do  I  pretend  to  be  strong- 
er than  he  .''  Can  I  resist  his  will .''  Shall  I  set 
briars  and  thorns  against  him  in  battle  .'  '  He 
will  go  through  them,  he  will  burn  them  to- 
gether,' 1  Cor.  X.  22.  Rom.  ix.  19.  Isa.  xxvii.  5. 
Let  us  seek  those  benefits  in  a  communion 
with  the  great  God,  of  which  our  fanciful 
passions  can  only  offer  the  shadows.  Let  us 
not  pretend  to  deceive  him  by  the  subtilty  of 
our  stratagems ;  but  let  us  endeavour  to 
please  him  by  acknowledging  our  doubts,  our 
darkness,  and  our  ignorance  ;  the  fluctuations 
of  our  minds  about  the  government  of  the 
state,  the  management  of  our  families,  and 
above  all,  the  salvation  of  our  souls.  Let  us 
not  appear  in  his  presence  boasting  of  our  na- 
tural power  ;  but  let  us  present  ourselves  be- 
fore him  weak,  trembling,  and  undone.  By 
the  greatness  of  his  compassion  let  us  plead 
with  him  to  pity  our  meanness  and  misery. 
Let  our  supplies  flow  from  the  fountains  of 
bis  wisdom  and  power  ;  this  is  real  wisdom  ; 
may  God  inspire  us  with  it.  This  is  substan- 
tial happiness ;  may  God  impart  it  to  us. 
Amen.  To  him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever. 


SERMON   VI. 


THE    HOLINESS    OF    GOD. 


Leviticus  xix.  1,  2, 
^ni  the  Lord  spake  unto  Moses,   saying,  Speak  unto  all  the  congregation  of  the 
children  of  Israel^  and  say  unto  them,  Ye  shall  be  holy  ;  for  J  the  Lord  your 
God  am  holy. 


I  ADDRESS  to  all  the  faithful,  whom  the 
devotion  of  this  day  has  assembled  in  this 
sacred  place,  the  command  which  Moses  by 
the  authority  of  God  addressed  to  all  the  con- 
gregation of  Israel.  However  venerable  this 
assembly  may  be,  to  which  I  am  this  day  call- 
ed by  Providence  to  preach,  it  cannot  be 
more  august  than  that  to  which  the  Jewish 
legislator  formerly  spoke.  It  was  composed 
of  more  than  eighteen  hundred  thousand  per- 
sons. There  were  magistrates  appointed  to 
exercise  justice,  and  to  represent  God  upon 
earth.  There  were  priests  and  Levites,  con- 
secrated to  the  worship  of  God,  and  chosen  by 
him  to  signify  his  will  to  the  church.  There 
were  various  ranks  and  degrees  of  men  pro- 
portional to  so  great  a  multitude  of  people. 
God  had  given  particular  laws  before,  which 
were  adapted  to  their  different  ranks,  and  to 
their  various  circumstances.  But  this  is  a 
general  law :  a  law  which  equally  belongs  to 
magistrates,  priests,  and  Levites :  a  law 
which  must  be  observed  at  all  times,  and  in 
all  places.  This  is  the  law  of  holiness ; 
'  Speak  unto  all  the  congregation  of  tlie  chil- 
dren of  Israel,  and  say  unto  them.  Ye  shall  be 
holy ;  for  I  the  Lord  your  God  am  holy,' 

I  repeat  it  again,  my  brethren,  I  address  to 
all  the  faithful,  wliom  the  devotion  of  this 
day  has  assembled  in  this  sacred  place,  the 
same  precept  that  God  commanded  Moses  to 
address  to  all  the  congregation  of  Israel. 
The  law  of  holiness,  which  I  preach  to-day, 
commands  you,  our  supreme  governors.  Ar- 
biters of  your  own  laws,  ye  see  no  mortal  upon 
earth  to  whom  ye  are  accountable  for  your 
conduct,  but  there  is  a  God  in  heaven  whose 
creatures  and  subjects  ye  are,  and  who  com- 
mands you  to  be  holy.  The  law  of  holiness 
commands  you,  priests  and  Levites  of  the 
New  Testament.  The  sacred  character,  with 
which  ye  are  invested,  far  from  dispensing 
with  your  obligation  to  holiness,  enforceth  it 
on  you  in  a  more  particular  manner.  This 
law  commands  you  all,  my  dear  hearers,  of 
what  order,  of  what  profession,  of  what  rank 
soever  ye  be.  '  If  ye  be  a  chosen  generation, 
a  royal  priesthood,  a  peculiar  people,  ye 
ought  also  to  be  a  holy  nation,  that  ye  may 
show  forth  the  praises  of  him  who  hath  called 
j'ouout  of  darkness  into  his  marvellous  light,' 
1  Pet.  ii.  9.  Whatever  prerogative  Moses 
had  above  us,  we  have  the  same  law  to  pre- 
scribe to  you  that  he  had  to  Israel ;  and  the 
voice  of  Heaven  says  to  us  now,  as  it  said 
once  to  him,  '  Speak  to  all  the  congregation 
of  the  children  of  Israel,  and  say  unto  them, 


Ye  shall  be  holy :  'for  I  the  Lord  your  God 
am  holy.' 

This  discourse  will  have  three  parts.  The 
term  holiness  is  equivocal,  and  consequently, 
the  command  ije  shall  be  holy,  is  so.  We 
will  endeavour  to  fix  the  sense  of  the  term, 
and  to  give  you  a  clear  and  distinct  idea  of 
the  word  holiness  :  this  will  be  our  first  point. 

Holiness,  which  in  our  text  is  attributed 
to  God,  and  prescirbed  to  men,  cannot  belong 
to  such  different  beings  in  the  same  sense, 
and  in  all  respects.  We  will  therefore  exa- 
mine in  what  sense  it  belongs  to  God,  and  in 
what  sense  it  belongs  to  men ;  and  we  will 
endeavour  to  explain  in  what  respects  God  is 
holy,  and  in  what  respects  men  ought  to  ba 
holy  :  this  will  be  our  second  part. 

Although  the  holiness  that  is  attributed  to 
God,  differs  in  many  respects  from  that  which 
is  prescribed  to  men,  yet  the  first  is  the 
ground  of  the  last.  Tlie  connexion  of  these 
must  be  developed,  and  the  motive  enforced, 
'  ye  shall  be  holy,  for  I  the  Lord  your  God 
am  holy  :'  this  shall  be  our  third  part.  And 
this  is  the  substance  of  all  that  we  intend  to 
propose. 

I.  The  term  holiness  is  equivocal,  and  con- 
sequently, the  command,  ye  shall  be  holy,  is 
so.  Let  us  endeavour  to  affix  a  determinate 
sense  to  the  term,  and  to  give  you  a  clear 
and  distinct  idea  of  the  meaning  of  the  word 
holiness.  The  original  term  is  one  of  the 
most  vague  words  in  the  Hebrew  language. 
In  general,  it  signifies  to  prepare,  to  set  apart, 
to  devote.  The  nature  of  the  subject  to  which 
it  is  applied,  and  not  the  force  of  the  term, 
must  direct  us  to  determine  its  meaning  in 
passages  where  it  occurs.  An  appointment 
to  offices  the  most  noble,  and  the  most  worthy 
of  intelligent  beings,  and  an  appointment  to 
offices  the  most  mean  and  infamous,  are  alike 
expressed  by  this  word.  The  profession  of 
the  most  august  office  of  the  high  priesthood, 
and  the  abominable  profession  of  a  prostitute, 
are  both  called  holiness  in  this  vague  sense. 

The  poorest  languages  are  those  in  which 
words  are  the  most  equivocal,  and  this  is  the 
character  of  the  Hebrew  language.  I  cannot 
think  with  some,  that  it  is  the  most  ancient 
language  in  the  world  ;  the  contrary  opinion, 
I  think,  is  supported  by  very  sufficient  evi- 
dence. However,  it  must  be  granted,  that  H 
has  one  grand  character  of  antiquity,  that  is, 
its  imperfection.  It  seems  to  have  been  in- 
vented in  the  first  ages  of  the  world,  when 
mankind  could  express  their  ideas  but  imper- 
fectly, and  before  they  had  time  to  render  Ian- 


88 


THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  VI. 


g^oge  determinate,  by  affixing  arbitrary 
names  to  the  objects  of  their  ideas.** 

This  remarlt  may  at  first  appear  useless, 
particularly  in  such  a  discourse  as  this.  It  is, 
however,  of  great  consequence  ;  and  I  make 
it  here  for  the  sake  of  young  students  in  di- 
Tinity  :  for,  as  the  writers  of  the  holy  Scrip- 
tures frequently  make  use  of  terms,  that  ex- 
cite several  ideas,  the  reasons  of  their  choos- 
inor  such  terms  will  be  inquired  :  and  on  such 
reasons  as  the  fancies  of  students  assign,  some 
maxims,  and  even  some  doctrines  will  be 
grounded.  I  could  mention  more  mysteries 
than  one,  that  have  been  found  in  Scripture, 
only  because  on  some  occasions  it  uses  equi- 
vocal terms.  An  interpreter  of  Scripture, 
should  indeed  assiduously  urge  the  force  of 
those  emphatical  expressions  which  the  Holy 
Spirit  sometimes  uses  to  signify,  if  I  may  so 
speak,  the  ground  and  substance  of  the  truth  ; 
but  at  the  same  time,  he  should  avoid  search- 
ing after  the  marvellous  in  other  expressions, 
that  are  employed  only  for  the  sake  of  ac- 
commodating the  discourse  to  the  genius  of 
the  Hebrew  tongue. 

The  force  of  the  term  holiness,  then,  not 
being  sufficient  to  determine  its  meaning,  its 
meaning  must  be  sought  elsewhere.  We 
must  inquire  the  object  to  which  he  devotes 
himself,  who  in  our  Scriptures  is  called  liohj. 
For,  as  all  those  words,  ye  shall  he  holy,  for  I 
am  holy,  are  equal  to  these,  ye  shall  he  set 
apart,  or  ye  shall  he  devoted,  for  I  am  set 
apart,  or  devoted,  it  is  plain  that  they  cannot 
be  well  explained  unless  the  object  of  the  ap- 
pointment or  designation  be  determined.  This 
object  is  the  matter  of  our  present  inquiry, 
and  on  the  investigation  of  this  depends  our 
knowledge  of  what  we  call  holiness.  Now, 
this  subject  is  of  such  a  kind,  that  the  weak- 
est Christian  may  form  some  idea  of  it,  while 
the  ablest  philosophers,  and  the  most  pro- 
found divines  are  incapable  of  treating  it 
with  the  precision,  and  of  answering  all  the 
questions  that  a  desire  of  a  complete  explica- 
tion may  produce. 

The  weakest  Christians  may  form  (especi- 
ally if  they  be  willing  to  avail  themselves  of 
such  helps  as  are  at  hand)  some  just  notions 
of  what  we  call  holiness.  It  seems  to  me, 
that  in  this  auditory  at  least,  there  is  not  one 

{»erson  who  is  incapable  of  pursuing  the  fol- 
owing  meditation :  to  which  I  entreat  your 
attention. 

Suppose,  in  a  world  entirely  remote  from 
you,  a  society,  to  which  ye  have  no  kind  of 
relation,  and  to  which  ye  never  can  have  any. 
Suppose  that  God  had  dispensed  with  an  obe- 
dience to  his  laws  in  favour  of  this  society, 
had  permitted  the  members  of  it  to  live  as 
they  thought  proper,  and  had  assured  them 
that  he  would  neither  inflict  any  punishment 
\ipon  them  for  what  we  call  vice,  nor  bestow 
any  rewards  on  an  attachment  to  what  we 
call  virtuv.  Suppose  two  men  in  this  society, 
mjikint^  »■>  opposite  use  of  this  independence. 
T^'ie-cne  says  to  himself,  Since  I  am  the  ar- 
■{ij  ,r  of  my  own  conduct,  and  the  Supreme 
li&ing,  on  whom  I  depend,  has  engaged  to  re- 

♦  It  is  granted  by  the  Rabbins,  that  the  Hebrew 
words  which  have  distinct  imports  were  differently 
pronounced  by  the  people  ;  as  Sheul,  which  signifies 
botb  Seut  aud  the  grave.    J.  S. 


quire  no  account  of  my  actions,  I  will  consult 
no  other  rule  of  conduct  than  my  own  inter- 
est. Whenever  it  may  be  my  interest  to  de- 
ny a  trust  reposed  in  me,  I  will  do  it  without 
reluctance.  Whenever  my  interest  may  re- 
quire the  destruction  of  my  tenderest  and 
most  faithful  friend,  I  myself  will  become  his 
executioner,  and  will  stab  liim.  Thus  reasons 
one  of  them. 

The  other,  on  the  contrary,  says,  I  am  free 
indeed,  I  am  responsible  only  to  myself  for 
my  conduct,  but,  however,  I  will  prescribe  to 
myself  some  rules  of  action,  which  I  will  in- 
violably pursue.  I  will  never  betray  a  trust 
reposed  in  me,  but  I  will,  with  the  utmost 
fidelity  discharge  it,  whatever  interest  I  may 
have  to  do  otherwise.  I  will  carefully  pre- 
serve the  life  of  my  friend,  who  discovers  so 
much  fidelity  and  love  to  me,  whatever  inter- 
est I  may  have  in  his  destruction.  We  ask 
those  of  our  hearers  who  are  the  least  ac- 
quainted with  meditations  of  tliis  kind,  whe- 
ther they  can  prevail  with  themselves  not  to 
make  an  essential  diiFerence  between  those 
two  members  of  the  supposed  society  ?  We 
ask,  whether  ye  can  help  feeling  a  horror  at 
the  first,  and  a  veneration  for  the  last  of  these 
men  .''  Now  this  conduct,  or  the  principles 
of  this  conduct,  for  which  we  cannot  help 
feeling  veneration  and  respect,  although  the 
whole  passes  in  a  world,  and  in  a  society  to 
which  we  have  no  relation,  and  to  which  we 
never  can  have  any,  these  are  the  principles, 
I  say,  to  which  he  is  devoted,  whom  our 
Scriptures  call  holy :  these  principles  are 
what  we  call  virtue,  rectitude,  order,  or,  as 
the  text  expresses  it,  holiness.  '  Ye  shall  be 
holy  :  for  I  the  Lord  your  God  am  holy.' 

Let  us  proceed  a  little  farther  in  our  medi- 
tation, and  let  us  make  a  supposition  of  an- 
other kind.  Ye  have  all  some  idea  of  God. 
Ye  have  at  least  this  notion  of  him,  that  he  is 
supremely  independent,  and  that  none  can 
punish  or  reward  him  for  the  use  he  makes  of 
his  independence.  Suppose,  as  well  as  ye 
can  without  blasphemy,  that  he  should  lavish 
his  favours  on  the  faithless  depository,  whom 
we  just  now  mentioned,  and  should  withliold 
them  from  the  other  :  that  he  should  heap 
benefits  upon  him  who  would  stab  his  tender- 
est and  most  faithful  friend,  and  expose  the 
other  to  indigence  and  misery.  Suppose,  on 
the  contrary,  that  God  should  liberally  be- 
stow his  favours  on  the  faithful  depository, 
and  refuse  them  to  the  other.  I  ask  those  of 
my  hearers  who  are  the  least  acquainted  with 
a  meditation  of  this  kind,  whether  they  can 
help  making  an  essential  diflTerence  between 
these  two  uses  of  independence  .'  Can  yo 
help  feeling  more  veneration  and  respect  for 
the  Supreme  Being  in  the  latter  case  than  in 
the  former?  Now,  my  brethren,  I  repeat  it 
acrain,  the  laws  according  to  which  the  Su- 
preme Being  acts,  are  the  laws  to  which  the 
person  is  appointed,  or  set  apart,  who  in  the 
holy  Scriptures  is  denominated  holy.  Con- 
formity to  these  laws  is  what  we  call  virtue^ 
rectitude,  order,  or  as  the  text  expresses  it, 
holiness.  In  this  manner,  it  seems  to  me, 
that  the  weakest  Christian  (if  he  avail  him- 
self of  such  helps  as  are  offered  to  him)  may 
form  an  adequate  idea  of  holiness. 

However,  it  is  no  lesa  certain  that  the  ablest 


Sbb.  VI] 


THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 


89 


philosophers,  and  the  most  consummate  di- 
vines, find  it  difficult  to  speak  with  precision 
on  this  subject,  and  to  answer  all  the  ques- 
tions that  have  arisen  about  it.  Perhaps  its 
perspicuity  may  be  one  principal  cause  of  this 
difficulty  :  for  it  is  a  rule,  of  which  we  inform 
those  to  whom  we  teach  the  art  of  reasoning 
justly,  that  when  an  idea  is  brought  to  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  evidence  and  simplicity,  every 
thing  that  is  added  to  elucidate,  serves  only 
to  obscure  and  perplex  it.  Has  not  one  part 
of  our  difficulties  about  the  nature  of  right 
and  wrong  arisen  from  the  breach  of  this 
rule  ? 

From  what  we  have  heard,  in  my  opinion, 
we  may  infer,  that  all  mankind  have  a  clear 
and  distinct  idea  of  holiness,  even  though 
they  have  no  terms  to  express  their  ideas  of 
it  with  justness  and  precision.  It  seems  to 
me  that  every  mechanic  is  able  to  decide  the 
following  questions,  although  they  have  oc- 
casioned so  many  disputes  in  schools.  On 
what  is  the  difference  between  a  just  and  an 
unjust  action  founded ;  on  interest  only .'  or 
on  the  will  of  the  Supreme  Being  only,  who 
hath  prescribed  such  or  such  a  law  ?  For, 
since  we  cannot  help  execrating  a  man  who 
violates  certain  laws,  though  the  violation 
does  not  at  all  affect  our  interest,  it  is  plain, 
we  cannot  help  acknowledging,  when  we  re- 
flect on  our  own  ideas,  that  the  difference  be- 
tween a  just  and  an  unjust  action  is  not  found- 
ed on  interest  only.  And  since  we  cannot 
help  venerating  the  Supreme  Being  more 
when  he  follows  certain  laws  than  when  he 
violates  them,  it  is  plain  we  cannot  help  ac- 
knowledging that  there  is  a  justice  indepen- 
dent of  the  supreme  law  which  has  prescrib- 
ed it. 

Should  any  one  require  me  to  give  him  a 
clear  notion  oi  i\\is  justice,  this  order,  ox  holi- 
ness, which  is  neither  founded  on  the  inter- 
est of  him  who  obeys  it,  nor  on  the  authority 
of  the  Supreme  Being  who  commands  it,  this 
should  be  my  answer. 

By  justice  I  understand  that  fitness,  har- 
mony, or  proportion,  which  ought  to  be  be- 
tween the  conduct  of  an  intelligent  being, 
and  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is  placed, 
and  the  relations  that  he  bears  to  other  be- 
ings. For  example,  there  is  a  relation  be- 
tween a  benefactor  who  bestows,  and  an  indi- 
gent person  who  receives,  a  benefit ;  from 
this  relation  results  a  proportion,  a  harmony, 
or  a  fitness  between  benefit  and  gratitude, 
which  makes  gratitude  a  virtue.  On  the  con- 
trary, between  benefit  and  ingratitude  there 
is  a  disproportion,  a  dissonance,  or  an  incon- 

fruity,  which  makes  ingratitude  injustice. 
n  like  manner,  between  one  man,  who  is  un- 
der oppression,  and  another  who  has  the 
power  of  terminating  the  oppression  by  pun- 
ishing the  oppressor,  there  is  a  certain  rela- 
tion from  which  results  a  proportion,  a  har- 
mony, or  a  fitness  in  relieving  the  oppressed, 
which  makes  the  relief  an  act  of  generosity 
and  justice. 

All  mankind  have  a  general  notion  of  this 
proportion,  harmony,  or  fitness.  If  they  are 
sometimes  dubious  about  their  duty,  if  they 
sometimes  hesitate  about  the  conduct  that 
justice  requires  of  them  on  certain  occasions, 
»t  n  not  because  they  doubt  whether  every 


action  ought  to  have  that  which  I  call  propot' 
tion,  harmony,  or  fitness  ;  but  it  is  because, 
in  some  intricate  cases,  they  do  not  clearly 
perceive  the  relation  of  a  particular  action 
to  their  general  notion  of  justice.  Every 
man  has  an  idea  of  equality  and  inequality  of 
numbers.  Every  man  knows  at  once  to 
which  of  these  two  ideas  some  plain  and  sim- 
ple numbers  belong.  Every  body  perceivea 
at  once  a  relation  between  the  number  three, 
and  the  idea  of  inequality :  and  every  body 
perceives  instantly  a  relation  between  the 
number  two  and  the  idea  of  equality.  But 
should  I  propose  a  very  complex  number  to 
the  most  expert  arithmetician,  and  ask  him  to 
which  of  the  two  classes  this  number  be- 
longs, he  would  require  some  time  to  consid- 
er, before  he  could  return  his  answer :  not 
because  he  had  not  very  clear  ideas  of  equa- 
lity and  inequality,  but  because  he  could  not 
at  first  sight  perceive  whether  the  number 
proposed  were  equal  or  unequal.  The  arith- 
metician, whom  I  have  supposed,  must  study 
to  find  out  the  relation:  as  soon  as  he  dis- 
covers it  he  will  readily  answer,  and  teU  me 
whether  the  number  proposed  be  equal  or  un- 
equal. 

Apply  this  example  to  the  subject  in  hand. 
All  mankind,  according  to  our  reasoning  have 
a  general  notion  of  a  fitness,  that  ought  to  be 
between  the  conduct  of  an  intelligent  being 
and  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is  placed, 
and  the  relations  that  he  bears  to  other  beings. 
Always  when  a  man  perceives  that  a  particu- 
lar action  has  ^such  a  fitness,  or  has  it  not, 
he  will  declare  without  hesitation  that  the 
action  is  just  or  unjust.  If  he  hesitate  in 
some  cases,  it  is  because  he  does  not  perceive 
the  relation  of  the  action  in  question  to  this 
fitness.  It  belongs  to  casuists  to  solve  dif- 
ficulties of  this  kind.  I  perceive  at  once  a 
relation  between  him  who  receives  a  benefit, 
and  him  who  confers  it ;  and  from  this  rela- 
tion I  conclude,  that  there  is  a  fitness  between 
gratitude  and  the  circumstances  of  the  receiv- 
er :  therefore  I  declare  without  hesitating, 
that  gratitude  is  a  virtue,  and  that  ingrati- 
tude IS  a  vice.  But  should  I  be  asked  whether 
it  were  a  virtue  or  a  vice  to  kill  a  tyrant,  I 
might  hesitate  :  because  I  might  not  at  first 
perceive  what  relation  there  is  between  the 
killing  of  a  tyrant,  and  the  fitness  that  ought 
to  subsist  between  the  conduct  of  a  subject 
and  his  relation  to  a  tyrant. 

Should  any  one  still  urge  me  to  give  him 
clearer  ideas  of  that  which  I  call  the  propor- 
tion,  the  harmony,  or  the  fitness  of  an  action, 
I  would  freely  own  that  I  could  not  answer 
his  inquiry.  But,  at  the  same  time,  I  would 
declare  that  my  inability  did  not  arise  from 
the  obscurity  of  my  subject,  but  from  the  all- 
sufficiency  of  its  evidence.  I  would  recur  to 
the  maxim  just  now  mentioned,  that  when  a 
subject  is  placed  in  a  certain  degree  of  evi- 
dence and  simplicity,  every  thing  that  is  add- 
ed to  elucidate,  serves  only  to  darken  and  to 
perplex  it. 

Should  my  inquirer  still  reply  that  he  had 
no  idea  of  that  which  I  call  the  proportion, 
the  harmony,  or  the  fitness  of  an  action,  I 
should  consider  him  as  a  being  of  a  species 
different  from  mine,  and  I  should  not  think  of 
conversing  with  him.    There  are  some  com- 


90 


THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 


[See.  VI. 


mon  ideas,  some  maxims  that  are  taken  for 
granted,  even  by  the  most  opposite  parties : 
and  when  those  maxims  are  disputed,  and 
those  ideas  not  admitted,  there  is  an  end  of 
conversing  and  reasoning. 
'  This  is  a  general  notion  of  holiness.  But 
the  holiness  that  is  attributed  to  God,  and 
prescribed  to  men,  in  the  text,  cannot  belong 
in  the  same  sense,  and  in  every  respect,  to 
such  different  beings.  We  are  going  to  exa- 
mine then,  in  the  second  place,  in  what  sense 
it  agrees  to  God,  and  in  what  sense  it  agrees 
to  man. 

II.  What  has  been  said  of  holiness  in  ge- 
neral, will  serve  to  explain  in  what  sense  God 
is  holy,  and  in  what  sense  men  ought  to  be 
holy.  The  general  principle  of  holiness  is 
common  to  God  and  man.  The  general  prin- 
ciple of  holiness,  as  has  been  already  shown, 
is  a  perfect  proportion,  harmony,  or  fitness, 
between  the  conduct  of  an  intelligent  being 
and  his  relations  to  other  beings.  The  holi- 
ness of  God  is  that  perfect  harmony,  propor- 
tion, or  fitness,  that  subsists  between  his  con- 
duct (if  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak  thus  of 
God)  and  his  relations  to  other  beings.  The 
holiness  of  man  consists  in  the  same.  But  as 
the  circumstances  and  relations  of  God  differ 
from  those  of  men,  the  holiness  of  God  and 
the  holiness  of  men  are  of  different  kinds. 
Audit  is  the  difference  of  these  relations  that 
we  must  distinguish,  if  we  would  give  a  pro- 
per answer  to  the  questions  in  hand  :  In  what 
sense,  and  in  what  respects,  is  holiness  as- 
cribed to  God  ?  In  what  sense,  and  in  what 
respects,  is  holiness  prescribed  to  men  .' 

The  first  question,  that  is,  What  relations 
has  God  with  other  Ibeings,  is  a  question  so 
extensive,  and  so  difficult,  that  all  human  in- 
telligence united  in  one  mind,  could  not  re- 
turn a  sufficient  answer.  We  have  been  ac- 
customed to  consider  our  earth  as  the  princi- 
pal part  of  the  universe,  and  ourselves  as  the 
most  considerable  beings  in  nature.  Yet  our 
earth  is  only  an  atom  in  the  unbounded  space, 
in  which  it  is  placed  :  and  we  are  only  a  very 
inconsiderable  number  in  comparison  of  the 
infinite  multitude  and  the  endless  variety  of 
creatures  which  the  Great  Supreme  has  made. 
There  is  an  infinite  number  of  angels,  sera- 
phims,  cherubims,  thrones,  dominions,  pow- 
ers, and  other  intelligences,  of  which  we  have 
no  ideas,  and  for  which  we  have  no  names. 
God  has  relations  to  all  these  beings ;  and  on 
the  nature  of  those  relations  depends  the  na- 
ture of  that  order,  justice,  or  holiness,  which 
he  inviolably  maintains  in  respect  to  them. 
But  let  us  not  lose  ourselves  in  these  immense 
objects.  Let  us  only  fix  our  meditation  on 
God's  relations  to  men,  and  we  shall  form 
sufficient  ideas  of  his  holiness. 

What  relation  does  God  bear  to  us  .'  God 
has  called  us  into  existence  ;  and  there  are 
between  us  the  relations  of  Creator  and  crea- 
ture. But  what  harmony  do  we  think  there 
ought  to  be  between  the  conduct  of  God  to  us, 
and  the  relation  that  he  bears  to  us  of  a 
Creator  to  creatures  ?  Harmony,  or  fitness, 
seems  to  require  that  God,  having  brought 
creatures  into  existence,  should  provide  for 
their  support,  and,  having  given  them  certain 
faculties,  sliould  require  an  account  of  the  use 
that  is  made  of  them.    This  is  the  first  idea 


that  we  form  of  the  holinesg  of  God.  It  does 
not  appear  to  us  fit,  or  agreeable  to  order 
that  God,  after  having  created  intelligent  be- 
ings, should  abandon  them  to  themselves,  and 
not  regard  either  their  condition  or  their  con- 
duct. On  this  principle  we  ground  the  doc- 
trine of  Providence,  and  reject  the  extrava- 
gant system  of  the  Epicurians. 

What  relation  does  God  bear  to  us  ?  God 
has  given  us  a  revelation.  He  has  proposed 
some  principles  to  us.  Between  God  and  U3 
there  are  the  relations  of  tutor  and  pupil. 
But  what  fitness  do  we  think  there  ought  to 
be  between  the  conduct  of  God  and  the  rela- 
tion of  a  tutor  to  a  pupil,  that  subsists  between 
him  and  us  .''  It  is  fit,  I  think,  that  a  revelation 
proceeding  from  God  should  be  conformable 
to  his  own  ideas ;  and  on  this  principle  we 
ground  the  doctrine  of  the  truth,  or,  as  the 
schools  call  it,  the  veracity  of  God,  and  main- 
tain with  St.  Paul,  even  independently  of  the 
authority  of  St.  Paul,  that '  it  is  impossible  for 
God  to  fie,'  Heb.  vi.  18. 

What  relation  does  God  bear  to  us .'  God 
has  made  a  covenant  with  us :  to  certain  con- 
ditions in  that  covenant  he  has  annexed  cer- 
tain promises.  Between  God  and  us  there 
subsist  the  relations  of  two  contracting  par- 
ties. What  fitness  do  we  think,  there  ought 
to  be  between  the  conduct  of  God  and  that 
relation  of  an  ally,  which  he  bears  to  us  .'' 
We  think  that  there  is  a  harmony,  or  a  fitness, 
in  his  fulfilling  the  articles  of  the  covenant, 
and  on  this  principle  we  ground  our  expecta- 
tion of  the  accomplishment  of  his  promises, 
and  believe  that  '  all  the  promises  of  God  are 
yea,  and  amen,'  2  Cor.  i.  20. 

What  relation  subsists  between  God  and  us .'' 
God  has  given  us  certain  laws.  Between 
God  and  us  there  are  the  relations  of  a  law- 
giver and  subjects.  What  harmony,  do  we 
think,  there  ought  to  be  between  the  conduct 
of  God  and  the  relation  of  a  legislator  to  a  sub- 
ject !  We  think,  harmony  requires  that  the 
laws  prescribed  to  us  should  be  proportional 
to  our  ability  ;  that  nothing  should  be  required 
of  us  beyond  our  natural  power,  or  the  super- 
natural assistances  that  he  affords :  and  on  this 
principle  we  reject  a  cruel  system  of  divinity, 
more  likely  to  tarnish  than  to  display  the  glory 
of  the  Supreme  Being  :  on  this  principle  we 
say  with  St.  James, '  If  any  of  you  lack  vris- 
dom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  that  giveth  to  all 
men  liberally,  and  upbraideth  not,'  Jam.  i.  12. 
on  this  principle  we  say  with  St.  Paul,  that 
'  .as  many  as  have  sinned  without  law,  shall 
also  perish  without  law  :  and  as  many  as  have 
sinned  in  the  law,  shall  be  judged  by  the  law,* 
Rom.  ii.  12.  Follow  this  train  of  reasoning, 
my  brethren,  reflect  on  the  other  relations 
that  God  bears  to  mankind  ;  examine,  as  far 
as  ye  are  capable  of  examining,  the  harmony 
that  subsists  between  the  conduct  of  God  and 
those  relations  ;  and  the  farther  ye  proceed  in 
meditations  of  this  kind,  the  more  just  and  the 
more  enlarged  will  be  your  ideas  of  the  holi- 
ness of  God. 

But  perhaps  some  may  accuse  me  of  taking 
that  for  granted  which  remains  to  be  proved, 
and  of  grounding  my  whole  system  of  the  ho- 
liness of  God  on  a  disputed  principle,  the  truth 
of  which  I  have  not  3'ot  demonstrated :  that 
is,  that  there  docs  subsist  such  a  perfect  har- 


See.  VI.] 


THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 


91 


harmony  or  fitness  between  the  conduct  of 
Godland  his  relations  to  men.  Perhaps  I 
may  be  asked  for  the  proofs  of  this  principle, 
the  ground  of  my  whole  system ;  for  if  the 
principle  be  doubtful,  the  whole  system  is  hy- 
pothetical, and  if  it  be  false  the  system  falls  of 
itself.  I  answer,  my  brethren,  that  we  have 
as  strong  and  demonstrative  evidence  of  the 
holiness  of  God  as  it  is  possible  for  finite  crea- 
tures to  have  of  the  attributes  of  an  infinite 
Being.  We  may  derive  sound  notions  of  the 
conduct  of  God  from  three  different  sources, 
each  of  which  will  prove  that  a  perfect  har- 
mony subsists  between  the  conduct  of  God 
and  his  relations  to  us,  and  all  together  will 
fully  convince  us  that  God  possesses  in  the 
most  eminent  degree  such  a  holiness  as  we 
have  described. 

1.  We  shall  be  fully  convinced  that  God 
possesses  this  holiness  if  we  regulate  our  ideas 
of  his  conduct  by  our  notion  of  his  nature. 
Let  me  beg  leave  to  remark,  to  those  who 
have  been  accustomed  to  argue,  that  I  do  not 
mean  here  an  imaginary  notion  of  God,  like 
that  which  some  divines  and  some  philoso- 
phers have  laid  down  as  the  ground  of  their 
arguments.  They  begin  by  supposing  a  per- 
fect being  :  then  they  examine  what  agrees 
with  a  perfect  being  :  and  that  they  attribute 
to  God.  This  is  their  argument :  '  Holiness 
is  an  attribute  of  a  perfect  being  :  God  is  a 
perfect  being ;  therefore  holiness  is  an  attri- 
bute of  God.'  We  do  not  at  present  use  this 
method.  I  suppose  myself  suddenly  placed  in 
this  world,  surrounded  with  a  variety  of  crea- 
tures. I  do  not  suppose  that  there  is  a  holy 
Supreme  Being :  but  I  inquire  whether  there 
be  one  ;  and  in  this  manner  I  obtain  a  full  de- 
monstration. My  knowledge  of  creatures 
produces  the  notion  of  a  Creator.  My  notion 
of  a  Creator  is  complex,  and  includes  in  it  the 
sdeas  of  a  grand,  infinite,  almighty  Being. 
But  the  notion  of  a  Being,  who  is  grand,  infi- 
nite, and  almighty,  includes  in  it,  I  think,  the 
idea  of  a  holy  Being.  At  least,  I  cannot  per- 
ceive, in  this  Being,  any  of  the  principles  that 
tempt  men  to  violate  the  laws  of  order.  Men 
sometimes  transgress.the  laws  of  order  through 
ignorance  :  but  the  grand,  the  mighty,  the  in- 
finite Being  thoroughly  understands  the  har- 
mony that  ought  to  subsist  between  the  laws 
of  order  and  the  most  difficult  and  most  compli- 
cated action.  Men  sometimes  violate  the  laws 
of  order  because  the  solicitations  of  their  sen- 
ses prevail  over  the  rational  deliberations  of 
their  minds  :  but  the  great,  the  powerful,  the 
infinite  Being  is  not  subject  to  a  revolution 
of  animal  spirits,  an  irregular  motion  of  blood, 
or  an  inundation  of  bodily  humours.  Men 
sometimes  violate  the  laws  of  order  because 
they  are  seduced  by  a  present  and  sensible 
interest :  but  this  principle  of  a  violation  of 
the  laws  of  order  can  have  no  place  in  God. 
The  great,  the  mighty,  the  infinite  Being  can 
have  no  interest  in  deceiving  such  contempt- 
ible creatures  as  we.  If  then  we  judge  of  the 
conduct  of  God  by  the  idea  that  we  are  obli- 
ged to  form  of  his  nature,  we  shall  be  convin- 
ced of  his  perfect  holiness. 

2.  We  may  be  convinced  of  the  holiness  of 
God  by  the  testimony  that  God  himself  has 
given  of  his  attributes.  The  testimony  that 
God  has  given  of  himself  is  the  moat  credible 


testimony  that  we  can  obtain.  And  how  does 
he  represent  himself  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  ? 
He  describes  himself  every  where  as  a  holy 
Being,  and  as  a  pattern  of  holiness  to  us.  He 
describes  himself  surrounded  with  happy 
spirits,  who  perpetually  cry,  '  Holy,  holy, 
holy.  Lord  of  hosts.' 

3.  God  will  appear  supremely  holy  to  you 
if  ye  judge  by  his  works.  Behold  the  works 
of  nature,  they  proclaim  the  perfect  holiness 
of  God.  Consult  that  work  of  nature,  your 
own  heart :  that  heart,  all  corrupt  as  it  is,  yet 
retains  some  faint  traces  of  the  holiness  of  God , 
who  created  it ;  so  that  in  spite  of  its  natural 
depravity,  it  still  does  homage  to  virtue  :  it 
resembles  a  palace,  which,  having  been  at 
first  built  with  magnificence  and  art,  has  been 
miserably  plundered  and  destroyed,  but  which 
yet  retains,  amidst  all  its  ruins,  some  vestiges 
of  its  ancient  grandeur.  Behold  society,  that 
work  of  Providence  publishes  the  supreme  ho- 
liness of  God.  God  has  so  formed  society 
that  it  is  happy  or  miserable  in  the  same  pro- 
portion as  it  practises,  or  neglects  virtue. 
Above  all,  behold  the  work  of  religion.  What 
say  the  precepts,  the  precedents,  the  penaltiea 
of  religion .''  More  especially,  what  says  the 
grand  mystery  of  religion,  that  mystery  which 
is  the  scope,  the  substance,  the  end  of  all  the 
other  mysteries  of  religion,  I  mean  the  mys- 
tery of  the  cross  ?  Does  it  not  declare  that 
God  is  supremely  holy  ? 

We  have  seen  then  in  what  respects  holi- 
ness belongs  to  God,  and  by  pursuing  the 
same  principles,  we  may  discover  in  what  res- 
pects it  belongs  to  men.  Consider  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  men  are  placed,  and 
what  relation  they  bear  to  other  beings :  con- 
sider what  harmony  there  ought  to  be  between 
the  conduct  of  men  and  their  relations  :  and 
ye  will  form  a  just  notion  of  the  holiness  that 
men  are  commanded  to  practise.  There  is 
the  relation  of  a  subject  to  his  prince,  and  the 
subject's  submission  is  the  harmony  of  that 
relation :  in  this  respect  it  is  the  holiness  of  a 
man  to  submit  to  his  prince.  There  is  the 
relation  of  a  child  to  his  parent,  and  there  is 
a  harmony  between  the  conduct  and  the  rela- 
tion of  the  child  when  he  loves  and  obeys  his 
parent :  Love  and  obedience  to  the  parent 
constitute  the  holiness  of  the  child. 

The  principal  relation  of  man  is  that  which 
he  bears  to  God.  Man  stands  in  the  relation 
of  a  creature  to  God,  who  is  his  Creator  ;  and 
the  conduct  of  a  creature  is  in  harmony  with 
his  relation  when  the  will  of  his  Creator  is  the 
rule  of  his  actitjns:  the  revealed  will  of  God 
then  must  regulate  the  will  of  man.  Order 
requires  us  to  submit  ourselves  to  him  of 
whom  we  have  received  all  that  we  enjoy  :  all 
our  enjoyments  come  from  God  ;  from  him 
we  derive  '  life,  motion,  and  existence,'  Acts 
xvii.  28.  It  is  imposible  then  to  resist  his 
will  without  violating  the  laws  of  order.  Our 
future  prospects,  as  well  as  our  present  enjoy- 
ments, proceed  from  God:  our  own  interest 
demands  then,  that  we  should  submit  to  his 
will,  in  order  to  a  participation  of  future  fa- 
vours, which  are  the  objects  of  our  present 
hopes. 

We  have  seen  then  in  what  respects  holi- 
ness belongs  to  God,  and  in  what  respects  it 
belongs  to  men.    But  although  holiness  does 


.92 


THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 


CSbb.  VI, 


fiot  belong,  in  the  same  Bense,  and  in  every 
respect,  to  beings  so  different  as  God  and 
man,  yet  the  holiness  of  God  ought  to  be 
both  a  reason  and  a  rule  for  the  holiness  of 
man.  '  Ye  shall  be  holy,  for  I  the  Lord  your 
God  am  holy.'  This  is  our  third  part,  and 
■with  this  we  shall  conclude  the  discourse. 

ni.  The^  holiness  of  God,  we  say,  is  both 
a  rule  and  a  reason  for  the  holiness  of  man. 
The  words  of  the  text  include  both  these 
ideas,  and  will  bear  either  sense.  They  may 
be  rendered, '  Be  ye  holy  as  I  am  holy  :'  and, 
according  to  this  translation,  the  holiness  of 
God  is  a  rule  or  a  model  of  ours.  Or,  they 
may  be  rendered,  '  Ye  shall  be  holy,  because 
I  am  holy:'  and,  according  to  this,  the  holi- 
ness of  God  is  a  reason  or  a  motive  of  our 
holiness.  It  is  not  necessary  now  to  inquire 
which  of  these  two  interpretations  is  the  best. 
Let  us  unite  both.  Let  us  make  the  holiness 
of  God  the  pattern  of  our  holiness :  and  let 
us  also  make  it  the  motive  of  ours. 

1.  Let  us  make  the  holiness  of  God  the 
model  of  ours.  '  The  holiness  of  God  is  com- 
plete in  its  parts.'  He  has  all  virtues,  or  ra- 
ther he  has  one  virtue  that  includes  all 
others :  that  is,  the  love  of  order.  He  is 
equally  just  in  his  laws,  true  in  his  language, 
his  promises  are  faithful,  and  his  thoughts 
are  right.  Let  this  holiness  be  our  pattern, 
*  Be  ye  holy  as  God  is  holy.'  Let  us  not  con- 
fine ourselves  to  one  single  virtue.  Let  us 
incorporate  them  all  into  our  system.  Let 
us  have  an  assortment  of  Christian  graces. 
Let  us  be,  if  I  may  express  myself  so,  com- 
plete Christians.  Let  us  '  add  to  our  faith 
virtue,  and  to  virtue  knowledge,  and  to  know- 
ledge temperance,  and  to  temperance  pa- 
tience, and  to  patience  godliness,  and  to  godli- 
ness brotherly  kindness,  and  to  brotherly 
kindness  charity,'    2  Pet.  i.  5 — 7. 

2.  The  holiness  of  God  is  infinite  in  itself. 
Nothing  can  confine  its  activity.  Let  this 
be  our  model,  as  far  as  a  finite  creature  can 
imitate  an  infinite  Being.  Let  us  not  rest  in 
a  narrow  sphere  of  virtue,  but  let  us  carry 
every  virtue  to  its  most  eminent  degree  of  at- 
tainment. Let  us  every  day  make  some  new 
progress.  Let  us  reckon  all  that  we  have  done 
nothing,  while  there  remains  any  thing  more 
to' do.  Let  each  of  us  say  with  St. Paul,  '1  count 
not  myself  to  have  apprehended  :  but  this  one 
thing  I  do,  forgetting  those  things  which  are 
behind,  and  reaching  forth  unto  those  things 
which  are  before,  I  press  toward  the  mark,' 
Phil.  iii.  13. 

3.  The  holiness  of  God  is  pure  in  its  mo- 
tives.  He  fears  nothing,  he  hopes  for  nothing; 
yet  he  is  holy.  He  knows,  he  loves,  he  pur- 
sues holiness.  This  is  the  whole  system  of 
his  morality.  Let  this  be  our  pattern.  We 
do  not  mean  to  exclude  the  grand  motives  of 
hope  and  fear,  which  religion  has  sanctified, 
and  which  have  such  a  mighty  influence  over 
beings  capable  of  happiness  or  misery.  But 
yet,  let  not  our  inclinations  to  virtue  necessa- 
rily depend  on  a  display  of  the  horrors  of  hell, 
or  the  happiness  of  heaven.  Disinterestedness 
of  virtue  is  the  character  of  true  magnanim- 
ity, and  Christian  heroism.  Let  us  esteem  it 
a  pleasure  to  obey  the  laws  of  order.  Let  us 
account  it  a  plca.sure  to  be  generous,  benefi- 
cent,  and  communicative.    Let   us  '  lend,' 


agreeably  to  the  maxim  of  Jesus  Christ, 
'  hoping  for  nothing  again,'  Luke  vi.  35 ; 
and,  in  imitation  of  his  example,  let  us  '  lay 
down  our  lives  for  the  brethren,'  1  John 
iii.  16. 

4.  The  holiness  of  God  is  uniform  in  its  ac- 
tion. No  appearance  deceives  him,  no  temp- 
tation shakes  him,  nothing  dazzles  or  diverts 
him.  Let  this  be  our  example.  Let  us  not 
be  every  day  changing  our  religion  and  mo- 
rality. Let  not  our  ideas  depend  on  the  mo- 
tion of  our  animal  spirits,  the  circulation  of 
our  blood,  or  the  irregular  course  of  the  hu- 
mours of  our  bodies.  Let  us  not  be  Chris- 
tians at  church  only,  on  our  solemn  festivals 
alone,  or  at  the  approach  of  death.  Let  our 
conduct  be  uniform  and  firm,  and  let  us  say, 
with  the  prophet,  even  in  our  greatest  trials, 
'  Yet  God  is  good  to  Israel,'  Ps.  Lxiii.  1. 
However  it  be,  I  will  endeavour  to  be  as 
humble  on  the  pinnacle  of  grandeur,  as  if 
Providence  had  placed  me  in  the  lowest  and 
meanest  post.  I  will  be  as  moderate,  when 
all  the  objects  of  my  wishes  are  within  my 
reach,  as  if  I  could  not  afford  to  procure 
them.  I  will  be  as  ready  to  acquiesce  in  the 
supreme  will  of  God,  if  he  conduct  mo 
through  various  adversities,  and  through  '  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,'  as  if  he  led 
me  through  prosperities,  and  filled  me  with 
delights.  Thus  the  holiness  of  God  must 
be  the  model  of  ours :  '  Be  ye  holy  as  I  am 
holy.' 

But  the  holiness  of  God  must  also  be  the 
reason  or  motive  of  ours ;  and  we  must  be 
holy  because  God  is  holy  :  '  Ye  shall  be  holy, 
for  I  the  Lord  your  God  am  holy.' 

We  groan  under  the  disorders  of  our  na- 
ture, we  lament  the  loss  of  that  blessed  but 
short  state  of  innocence,  in  which  the  first 
man  was  created,  and  which  we  wish  to  re- 
cover :  '  We  must  be  holy  then,  for  the  Lord 
our  God  is  holy.'  The  beauty  and  blessed- 
ness of  man  in  his  primitive  state  consisted 
in  his  immediate  creation  by  the  hand  of  God, 
and  in  the  bearing  of  his  Creator's  image, 
which  was  impressed,  in  a  most  lively  man- 
ner, upon  his  mind.  Sin  has  defaced  that 
image,  and  our  happiness  consists  in  its  res- 
toration :  that  is,  in  our  being  '  renewed  after 
the  image  of  him  who  created  us,'  Col.  iii. 
10. 

We  wish  to  enjoy  the  favour  of  God :  wo 
must  be  holy  then,  '  because  the  Lord  our 
God  is  holy.'  They  are  '  our  iniquities  that 
have  separated  between  us  and  our  God :' 
Isa.  lix.  2.  And  it  is  holiness  that  must  con- 
ciliate a  communion  which  our  sins  have  in- 
terrupted. 

We  tremble  to  see  all  nature  at  war  with 
us,  and  wish  to  be  reconciled  to  all  the  exte- 
rior objects  that  conspire  to  torment  us ;  we 
must  be  holy  then,  '  because  the  Lord  our 
God  is  holy.'  Sin  is  a  hateful  object  to  a 
holy  God.  Sin  has  armed  every  creature 
against  man.  Sin  has  thrown  all  nature  into 
confusion.  Sin,  by  disconcerting  the  mind, 
has  destroyed  the  body.  It  is  sin  that  has 
brought  death  into  the  world,  and  '  sin  is  the 
sting  of  death.' 

We  wish  to  be  reconciled  to  ourselves,  and 
to  possess  that  inward  peace  and  tranquillity, 
without  which  no  exterior  objects  can  make 


Ser.  VI] 


THE  HOLINESS  OF  GOD. 


93 


us  happy :  we  must  be  holy  then,  *  because 
the  Lord  our  God  is  holy.'  We  have  rei'iavk- 
ed,  iu  this  discourse,  that  God,  v.-ho  is  an  in- 
dependent Bein^,  loves  virtue  for  its  own 
sake,  independent  of  the  rewards  that  accom- 
pany and  follow  it.  Nevertheless,  it  is  very 
certain  that  the  felicity  of  God  is  inseparable 
from  his  holiness.  God  is  tiu:  Itnpyij  (Jod, 
because  he  is  llic  holy  God.  God,  in  the  con- 
templation of  his  own  excellencies,  has  an  in- 
exhaustible source  of  telicity.  Were  it  possi- 
ble for  God  not  to  be  supremely  holy,  it 
would  be  possible  for  God  not  to  be  supreme- 
ly happy.  Yes,  God,  all  glorious  and  su- 
preme as  he  is,  would  be  miserable,  if  he  were 
subject,  like  unholy  spirits,  to  the  turbulent 
commotions  of  envy  or  hatred,  treachery  or 
deceit.  From  such  passions  would  arise 
odious  vapours,  which  would  gather  into 
thick  clouds,  and,  by  obscuring  his  glory,  im- 
pair ills  felicity.  Even  lieaven  would  afford 
but  Imperfect  j)leasure,  if  those  internal  furies 
could  there  kindle  tlieir  unhallowed  flames. 
The  same  reasoning  holds  good  on  earth  ;  for, 
it  implies  a  contradiction,  to  aflirm  that  we 
can  be  happy,  while  the  operations  of  our 
minds  clash  with  one  another  :  and  it  is  equal- 
ly absurd,  to  suppose  that  the  almighty  God 
can  terminate  the  fatal  war,  tiie  tragical 
field  of  which  is  the  human  heart,  without 
the  re-establisluuent  of  the  dominion  of  ho- 
liness. 

We  desire  to  experience  the  most  close  and 
tender  comnmnion  with  God,  next  Lord's 
day,  in  receiving  the  holy  sacrament:  Let  us 
be  holy  then,  'because  the  Lord  our  God  is 
holy.'  This  august  ceremony  may  be  consid- 
ered in  several  points  of  view :  and  one  of 
them  deserves  a  peculiar  attention.  The  ta- 
ble of  the  Lord's  Supper  has  been  compared, 
by  some,  to  that  which  was  formerly  set,  by 
the  command  of  God,  in  the  holy  place :  I 
mean,  the  table  of  '  show-bread,'  or  '  bread  of 
the  presence,'  Ex.  xxv.  30.  God  command- 
ed Moses  to  set  twelve  loaves  upon  the  table, 
to  change  them  every  sabbath,  and  to  give 
those  that  were  taken  away  to  the  priests, 
who  were  to  eat  them  in  '  the  holy  place,' 
Lev.  xxiv.  G,  &c.  What  was  the  end  of 
these  ceremonial  institutions  .'  The  tal)erna- 
cle  at  first  was  considered  as  the  tent,  and 
the  temjjle  afterward  as  the  palace  of  the 
Deity,  who  dwelt  among  the  Israelites.  In 
the  palace  of  God,  it  was  natural  to  expect  a 
table  for  the  use  of  him  and  his  attendants. 
This  was  one  of  the  most  glorious  privileges 
that  tlie  Israelites  enjoyed,  and  one  of  the 
most  aug.ust  symbols  of  the  presence  of  God 
among  them.  God  and  all  the  people  of  Is- 
rael, in  the  persons  of  their  ministers,  were 
accounted  to  eat  the  same  bread.  The  hea- 
thens, stricken  with  the  beauty  of  these  ideas, 
incorporated  them  into  their  theology. 
They  adopted  the  thought,  and  set  in  their 
temples  tables  consecrated  to  their  gods.  The 
prophet  IsaiaJi  reproaches  the  Jews  with  for- 
saking the  Lord,  forgetting  his  holy  moun- 
tain and  preparing  a  tabic  for  the  host  of  hea- 
ven, Isa.  Ixv.  2.  And  Ezekiel  reckons  among 
the  virtues  of  a  just  man,  that  he  had  '  not 
eaten  upon  the  mountains,'  Ez.  xviii.  (3.  It 
was  upon  tables  of  this  kind  that  idolaters 
sometimes  ate  the  remainder  of  those  victims 
which  they  had  sacrificed  to  their  gods.  This 


they  called  eativg  with  gods ;  and  Homer 
introduces  Alcinous  saying,  '  The  gods  visit 
us,  when  we  sacrifice  hecatombs,  and  sit 
down  with  us  at  the  same  table.' 

This  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  notions, 
under  which  we  can  consider  the  sacrament 
of  the  Lord's  Supper.  There  we  eat  with 
God.  God  sits  down  with  us  at  the  same 
table,  and,  so  causes  us  to  experience  the 
meaning  of  this  promise,  '  Behold,  I  stand 
at  the  door,  and  knock ;  if  any  man  hear 
my  voice,  and  open  the  door,  I  will  come  in 
to  him,  and  will  sup  with  him,  and  he  with 
me,'  Rev.  iii.  20.  But  what  do  such  close  con- 
nexions with  a  holy  God  require  of  us  .'  They 
require  us  to  be  holy.  They  cry  to  us,  as  the 
voice  cried  to  Moses  from  the  midst  of  the 
burning  bush, '  Draw  not  nigh  hither  ;  put  off 
thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet;  for  the  place 
whereon  thou  standest  is  holy  ground,"  Ex. 
iii.  .^. 

God  is  supremely  holy:  God  supremely 
loves  order.  Order  requires  you  to  leave  ven- 
geance to  God,  to  pardon  your  bitterest  and 
most  professed  enemies ;.  and.  what  is  more 
dilficult  still,  order  requires  you  to  pardon 
your  most  subtle  and  secret  foes.  Would  ye 
approach  the  table  of  a  holy  God  gnawn 
with  a  spirit  of  animosity,  hatred,  or  ven- 
geance ? 

God  is  supremely  holy:  God  supremely 
loves  order.  Order  requires  you  to  dedicate  a 
part  of  those  blessings  to  charity,  with  which 
Providence  has  intrusted  you  ;  to  retrench  the 
superfluities  of  your  tables,  in  order  to  enable 
you  to  assist  the  starving  and  dying  poor. 
Would  ye  approach  the  table  of  a  holy  God 
with  hearts  hardened  with  indifference  to  that 
poor  man  whom  God  has  commanded  you  to 
love  as  yourselves. 

God  is  supremely  holy :  God  supremely 
loves  order.  Order  requires  you  to  be  affect- 
ed with  the  tokens  of  divine  love.  All  are 
displayed  at  the  Lord's  table.  There  the 
bloody  history  of  your  Redeemer's  sufferings 
is  again  exhibited  "to  view.  There  the  blood, 
that  Christ  the  victim  shed  for  your  crimes, 
flows  afi-esh.  There  God  recounts  all  the 
mysteries  of  the  cross.  Would  ye  approach 
that  table  cold  and  languishing  ?  Would  yc 
approach  that  table  witliout  returning  to  Jesus 
Christ  love  for  love,  and  tenderness  for  ten- 
derness .''  Would  ye  approach  that  table  void 
of  every  sentiment  and  emotion,  which  the 
venerable  symbols  of  the  love  of  God  nmst 
needs  produce  in  every  honest  heart .''  Ah  I 
my  brethren,  were  ye  to  approach  the  table 
of  Jesus  Christ  without  these  dispositions,  ye 
would  come,  not  like  St.  John,  or  St.  Peter, 
but  like  Judas.  This  would  not  be  to  receive 
an  earnest  of  salvation,  but  to  '  eat  and  drink 
your  own  damnation,'  1  Cor.  xi.  2!>.  This 
would  not  be  to  receive  the  body  of  Jesus 
Cln-ist :  this  would  be  to  surrender  yourselves 
to  Satan. 

I  can  hardly  allow  myself  to  entertain  such 
melancholy  thoughts.  Come  to  the  table  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  enter  into  a  closer  com- 
munion with  a  holy  God.  Come  and  devote 
yourselves  entirely  to  the  service  of  a  holy^ 
God.  Come  and  "arrange  the  operations  of 
your  minds  by  the  perfections  of  a  holy  God. 
Come  and  diminish  the  grief  that  ye  feel,  be- 
cause, in  spite  of  all  your  endeavours  to  be 


94 


THE  COMPASSION  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  VII 


'  holy  as  God  is  liol}-,'  ye  are  so  far  inferior 
to  his  glorious  example.  But,  at  the  same 
time,  come  and  receive  fresh  assurances,  that 
ye  are  formed  for  a  more  perfect  period  of 
holiness.     Come  and  receive  the  promises  of 


God,  who  will  assure  you,  that  ye  shall  ont 
day  '  see  him  as  he  is,  and  be  like  him,'  1 
John  iii.  2.  May  God  ij;rant  us  this  blessing  ! 
To  him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever.  Amen^ 


SERMON    Vll. 


THE  COMPASSION  OF  GOD. 


Psalm  ciii.  13. 


Like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,   so  the  Lord  piticlh  them  that  fear  hira. 

A  MONG  many  frivolous  excuses,which  man- 
kind have  invented  to  exculpate  their  barren- 
ness under  a  gospel-ministry,  there  is  one  that 


deserves  respect.  Why,  say  they,  do  ye  ad- 
dress men  as  if  they  were  destitute  of  the  sen- 
timents of  humanity  ?  Why  do  ye  treat  Chris- 
tians like  slaves .'  Why  do  ye  perpetually 
urge,  in  your  preaching,  motives  of  wrath, 
veniTeance,  '  the  worm  that  never  dies,  the 
fire  that  is  never  quenched  .'"'  Isa.  Ixvi.  24. 
Motives  of  this  kind  fill  the  heart  with  rebel- 
lion instead  of  conciliating  it  by  love.  Man- 
kind have  afundof  sensibility  and  tenderness. 
Let  the  tender  motives  Ihat  our  legislator  has 
diffused  tliroughout  our  Bibles,  be  pressed 
upon  us  ;  and  then  every  sermon  would  pro- 
duce some  conversions,  and  your  complaints 
of  Christians  would  cease  with  the  causes 
that  produce  them. 

I  call  this  excuse  frivolous :  for  how  little 
must  we  know  of  human  nature,  to  suppose 
men  so  very  sensible  to  the  attractives  of  re- 
lifrion  !  Where  is  the  minister  of  the  gospel, 
who  has  not  displayed  the  charms  of  religion 
a  thousand,  and  a  thousand  times,  and  dis- 
played them  in  vain .''  Some  souls  must  bo 
terrified,  some  sinners  must  be  '  saved  by  fear, 
and  pulled  out  of  the  fire,'  Jude  23.  There 
are  some  hearts  that  are  sensible  to  only  one 
object  in  religion,  that  is,  hell  ;  and,  if  any 
%vay  remain  to  prevent  their  actual  destruc- 
tion hereafter,  it  is  to  overwhelm  their  souls 
with  the  present  fear  of  it :  '  knowing  there- 
fore the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  we  persuade 
men.' 

Yet,  however  frivolous  this  pretext  may  ap- 
pear, there  is  a  something  in  it  that  merits 
respect.  I  am  pleased  to  see  those  men,  who 
have  not  been  asiiamed  to  say,  that  the  Lords 
yoke  is  intolerable,  driven  to  abjure  so  odious 
a  system  :  1  love  to  hear  them  acknowledge, 
that  religion  is  supported  by  motives  fitted  to 
ingenuous  minds ;  and  that  the  God  from 
whom  it  proceeds,  has  discovered  so  nmch 
benevolence  and  love  in  tiie  gift.,  that  it  is 
impossible  not  to  be  aflected  with  it,  if  we  be 
capable  of  feeling. 

I  cannot  tell,  my  brelliren,  whether  among 
these  Christians,  whom  the  holiness  of  this 
day  has  assembled  in  this  snrrcd  place,  there 
be  many,  who  have  availed  themselves  of  the 
frivolous  pretence  just  now  mentioned  ;  and 
who  have  sometimes  wickedly  detern)ined  to 


despise  eternal  torments,  under  an  extrava- 
gant pretence  that  the  ministers  of  the  gospel 
too  often  preach,  and  too  dismally  describe 
them.  But,  without  requiring  your  answer 
to  so  mortifying  a  question,  without  en- 
deavouring to  make  you  contradict  yourselves, 
we  invite  you  to  behold  those  attractives  to- 
day, to  which  ye  boast  of  being  so  very  sen- 
sible. Come  and  see  ihe  supreme  Legislator, 
to  whom  we  would  devote  your  services  ;  be- 
hold him,  not  as  an  avenging  God,  not  as  a 
consuming  God,  not,'  shaking  the  earth,  and 
overturning  the  mountains'  in  his  anger.  Job 
ix.  4.  5  :  not  '  thundering  in  the  heavens, 
shooting  out  lightnings,  dr  giving  his  voice  in 
hailstones  and  coals  oi  fire,'  Ps.  xviii.  13,  14; 
but  putting  on  such  tender  emotions  for  you 
as  3'e  feel  for  your  children.  In  this  light  the 
prophet  places  him  in  Ihe  text,  and  in  this 
light  we  are  going  to  place  him  in  this  dis- 
course. 

O  ye  marble  hearts !  so  often  insensible  to 
the  terrors  of  our  ministry  ;  may  God  compel 
you  to-day  to  feel  its  attracting  promises !  O 
ye  marble  hearts  I  against  whicJi  the  edge  of 
the  sword  of  the  Ahniglity's  avenging  just  ice 
has  been  so  often  blunted  ;  the  Lord  grant 
that  ye  may  be  this  day  dissolved  by  the  en- 
ergy of  his  love  I     Amen. 

'  Like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so 
doth  the  Lord  pity  them  that  fear  him.'  Be- 
fore we  attempt  to  explain  the  text,  we  must 
premise  one  remark,  which  is  generilly  grant- 
ed, when  it  is  proposed  in  a  vague  manner, 
and  almost  as  generally  denied  in  its  conse- 
quences ;  that  is,  that  the  most  complete  no- 
tion which  we  can  form  of  a  divine  attribute, 
is  to  suppose  it  in  perfect  harmony  with  eve- 
ry other  divine  attribute. 

The  most  lovely  idea  that  we  can  form  of 
the  Deity,  and  which,  at  the  same  time,  is 
the  most  solid  ground  of  our  faith  in  his  word, 
and  of  our  confidence  in  the  performance  of 
his  promises,  is  that  which  represents  him  ae 
a  uniform  Being,  whose  attributes  harmonize, 
and  who  is  always  consistent  with  himself. 
There  is  no  greater  character  of  imperfection 
in  any  intelligent  being  than  the  want  of  this 
harmony  :  when  one  of  his  attributes  opposes 
another  of  his  attributes  ;  when  the  same  at- 
tribute opposes  itself ;  when  his  wisdom  is 
not  supported  by  his  power  j  or  when  his 
power  is  not  directed  by  his  wisdom. 


*ER.    VII.] 


THE  COMPASSION  OF  GOD. 


95 


This  character  of  imperfection,  essential  to 
all  creatures,  is  the  ground  of  tiiose  prohibi- 
tions that  we  meet  with  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, in  regard  to  the  objects  of  our  trust. 
*  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes,  nor  in  the 
son  of  man,  in  whom  there  is  no  help.  His 
breath  goeth  forth,  he  returneth  to  his  earth, 
in  that  very  day  his  thoughts  perish,'  Psalm 
cxlvi.  3,  4.  '  Cursed  be  the  man  that  trust- 
eth  in  man,  and  maketli  flesh  his  arm,'  Jer. 
xvii.  o.  Why  .''  Because  it  is  not  safe  to 
confide  in  man,  unless  he  have  such  a  har- 
mony of  attributes,  as  we  liave  just  now  de- 
scribed ;  and  because  no  man  has  such  a  har- 
mony. His  power  may  assist  you,  but,  unless 
he  have  wisdom  to  direct  his  power,  tlie  very 
means  that  he  would  use  to  make  you  happy, 
would  make  you  miserable.  Even  his  power 
would  not  harmonize  witli  itself  in  regard  to 
you,  if  it  were  sufficient  to  supply  your  wants 
to-day,  but  not  to-morrow.  That  man,  that 
prince,  that  mortal,  to  whom  thou  givest  the 
superb  titles  of  Potentate,  Monarch,  Arbiter 
of  peace,  and  Arbiter  of  war  ;  that  mortal, 
wilt)  is  alive  to-day,  will  die  to-morrow  ;  the 
breath  that  animates  him  will  evaporate,  he 
will  '  return  to  his  earth,'  and  all  his  kind  re- 
gards for  thee  will  vanish  with  iiim. 

But  the  perfections  of  God  are  in  perfect 
harmony.  This  truth  shall  guide  us  tlirough 
this  discourse,  and  shall  arrange  its  parts  : 
and  this  is  the  likeliest  way  that  we  can 
think  of,  to  preserve  the  dignity  of  our  sub- 
ject, to  avoid  ;ts  numerous  difficulties,  to  pre- 
clude such  fatal  inferences  as  our  weak  and 
wicked  passions  have  been  too  well  accustom- 
ed to  draw  from  the  subject,  and  to  verify  the 
prophet's  proposition  in  its  noblest  meaning, 
*■  Like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  doth 
the  Lord  pity  them  that  fear  him.' 

Would  ye  form  a  just  notion  of  the  goodness 
of  God,  (for  the  original  term  that  our  trans- 
lators have  rendered  pity,  is  equivocal,  and  is 
usc'l  in  this  vague  sense  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures.) Would  ye  form  a  just  notion  of  the 
goodness  of  God  ?  Then,  conceive  a  per- 
fection that  is  always  in  harmony  with, 

I.  The  spirituality  of  his  essence. 

II.  The  inconceivableness  of  his  nature. 

III.  Tlie  holiness  of  his  designs. 

IV.  The  independence  of  his  principles. 

V.  The  immutability  of  his  will. 

VI.  The  efiicacy  of  his  power.  But,  above 
all. 

VII.  With  the  veracity  of  his  word. 

I.  The  goodness  of  God  must  agree  with 
the  splrilualitij  of  his  essence.  Compassion, 
among  men,  is  that  mechanical  emotion 
which  is  produced  in  them  by  the  sight  of 
distressed  objects.  I  allow  that  the  wisdom 
of  the  Creator  is  very  much  displayed  in 
uniting  us  together  in  such  a  manner.  Ideas 
of  fitness  seldom  make  much  impression  on 
tlie  bulk  of  mankind  ;  it  was  necessaiy,  there- 
fore, to  make  sensibility  supply  the  want  of 
reflection,  and,  by  a  counter-bIo\v,  with  wliich 
the  miseries  of  a  neighbour  strike  our  feel- 
ings, to  produce  a  disposition  in  us  to  relieve 
him.  Nature  produces  but  few  monsters  who 
regale  themselves  on  the  sufferings  of  the 
wretched.  Here  or  there  has  been  a  Phala- 
lis,  who  has  delighted  his  ears  with  the  shrieks 
of  a  fellow-creature  burning  in  a  brazen  bull : 


and  some,  whose  minds  were  filled  with  ideas 
of  a  religion  more  barbarous  and  inhuman 
than  that  of  the  Bacchanalians,  have  been 
pleased  with  tormenting  those  victims  which 
they  sacrificed,  not  to  God  the  Father  of  man- 
kind, but  to  him  who  is  their  murderer  :  but 
none,  except  people  of  these  kinds,  have  been 
able  to  eradicate  those  emotions  of  pity  with 
which  a  wise  and  compassionate  God  has 
formed  them. 

But  this  sensibility  degenerates  into  foil}', 
when  it  is  not  supported  by  ideas  of  order, 
and  when  mechanical  emotions  prevail  over 
the  rational  dictates  of  the  mind.  It  is  a 
weakness,  it  is  not  a  love  worthy  of  an  intel- 
ligent being,  that  inclines  a  tender  mother  to 
pull  back  tlie  arm  of  him  who  is  about  to  per- 
form a  violent,  but  a  salutary  operation  on 
the  child  whom  she  loves.  It  is  a  weakness, 
it  is  not  a  love  worthy  of  an  intelligent  be- 
ing, that  inclines  a  magistrate  to  pardon  a 
criminal,  whose  preservation  will  be  an  inju- 
ry to  society,  and  the  sparing  of  whose  life 
will  occasion  a  thousand  ti-agical  deaths. 

This  kind  of  weakness,  that  confounds  a 
mechanical  sensation  with  a  rational  and  in- 
telligent love,  is  the  source  of  many  of  our 
misapprehensions  about  the  manner  in  which 
God  loves  us,  and  in  which  we  imagine  he 
ought  to  love  us.  We  cannot  conceive  tlie 
consistency  of  God's  love  in  making  us  wise 
in  a  school  of  adversity,  in  exposing  us  to  the 
vicissitudes  and  misfortunes  of  life,  and  in 
frequently  abandoning  his  children  to  pains 
and  regrets.  It  seems  strange  to  us,  that  he 
should  not  be  affected  at  hearing  the  groans 
of  the  damned,  whose  torments  can  only  be 
assuaged  by  uttering  blasphemies  against 
him.  Renounce  these  puerile  ideas,  and  en- 
teitain  more  just  notions  of  the  Supreme  Be- 
ing. He  has  no  body  ;  he  has  no  organs  that 
can  be  shaken  by  the  violence  done  to  the  or- 
gans of  a  malefactor  ;  he  has  no  fibres  that 
can  be  stretched  tp  form  a  unison  with  the 
fibres  of  your  bodies,  and  which  must  be  agi- 
tated by  their  motions.  Love,  in  God,  is  in 
an  intelligence,  who  sees  what  is,  and  who 
loves  what  may  justly  be  accounted  lovely  ; 
who  judges  by  tiie  nature  of  things,  and  not 
by  sensations,  of  which  he  is  gloriously  in- 
capable :  his  love  is  in  perfect  harmony  with 
the  spirituality  of  his  essence. 

II.  Our  ideas  of  the  goodness  of  God  must 
agree  with  our  notions  of  the  inconceivable- 
ness of  his  nature.  I  oppose  this  reflection 
to  the  difficulties  that  have  always  been  urg- 
ed against  the  goodness  of  God.  There  are 
two  sorts  of  these  objections  ;  one  tends  to 
liuiit  the  goodness  of  God,  the  other  to  carry 
it  beyond  its  just  bounds. 

If  God  be  supremely  good,  say  some,  how 
is  it  conceivable  that  he  should  suffer  sin  to 
enter  the  world,  and  with  sin,  all  the  evils 
that  necessarily  follow  it  ?  This  is  one  diffi- 
culty wbicii  tends  to  carry  the  goodness  of 
God  beyond  its  just  extent. 

Is  it  conceivable,  say  others,  that  the  great 
God,  that  God,  who,  according  to  the  pro- 
phet, '  weighed  the  mountains  in  scales,  and 
the  hills  in  a  balance,'  Isa  xl.  12  ;  that  God, 
w^ho,  '  measured  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of 
his  hand,  and  meted  out  heaven  with  a  span,' 
ver.  23 ;  that  God,  who  '  sitteth  upon  the 


06 


THE  COMPASSION  OF  GOD. 


[Sek.  vii; 


earth,  and  considcreth  the  inhabitants  there- 
of as  grasshoi);)ors  :'  ie  it  conceivable,  tliat 
he  should  have  such  a  love  for  those  mean  in- 
sects as  the  gospel  represents  ;  a  love  that  in- 
clined him  to  give  his  own  Son.  and  to  ex- 
pose hiin  to  the  most  ignominious  of  all  pun- 
ish.nents,  to  save  them  .'  This  is  an  objec- 
tion of  the  second  class,  which  tends  to  limit 
the  goodness  of  God. 

One  answer  may  serve  to  obviate  both 
these  kinds  of  objections.  Tiie  love  of  God 
is  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  inconceivable- 
ness  of  liis  nature.  All  his  perfections  are 
inconceivable,  v/e  can  only  follow  them  to  a 
certain  point,  beyond  which  it  is  impossible  to 
discover  their  effects.  '  Canst  thou  by  search- 
ing tind  out  God  .■"  Job  xi.  7. 

Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  his  eter- 
nity .'  Explain  an  eternal  duration  :  teach  us 
to  comprehend  an  extent  of  existence  so 
great,  tliat  when  we  have  added  age  to  age, 
one  million  of  years  to  aiiother  million  of 
years,  if  1  may  venture  to  speak  so,  when  we 
nave  heaped  ages  upon  ages,  millions  of  ages 
upon  milhons  of  ages,  we  have  not  added  one 
day,  one  hour,  one  instant  to  tlie  duration  of 
God,  with  whom  '  a  thousand  years  are  as 
one  day,  and  one  day  as  a  tliousand  years.' 

Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  his  know- 
ledge ?  Explain  to  us  the  wisdom  of  an  In- 
telligence, wlio  comprehended  plans  of  all 
possible  worlds  ;  who  compared  them  alltoge- 
ther  ;  who  chose  tlie  best,  not  only  in  prefer- 
ence to  tiie  bad,  but  to  the  less  good  ;  who 
knew  all  that  could  result  from  the  various 
modifications  of  matter,  not  only  of  the  mat- 
ter which  composes  our  earth,  but  of  tjie  im- 
mense matter  that  composes  all  bodies,  which 
are  either  in  motion  or  at  rest  in  the  immen- 
sity of  space,  which  lie  be3'ond  the  reach  of 
our  senses,  or  the  stretch  of  our  imaginations, 
and  of  which,  therefore,  we  can  form  no 
idea.  Explain  to  us  the  wisdom  of  a  God, 
who  knew  all  that  could  result  from  the  vari- 
ous modifications  of  spirits,  not  only  of  those 
human  spirits  which  have  subsisted  hitherto, 
or  of  those  which  will  subsist  hereafter  in 
this  world,  but  of  the  thousands,  of  the  '  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousands  that  stand  be- 
fore him,'  Dan  vii.  10. 

Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  his  pow- 
er ?  Explain  to  us  that  self-efficient  power, 
which  commands  a  tiling  to  be,  and  it  is  ; 
which  commands  it  not  to  be,  and  it  ceases 
to  exist. 

The  extent  of  God's  mercy  is  no  less  im- 
possible to  find  out  than  the  extent  of  his 
other  attributes.  We  are  as  incapable  of  de- 
termining concerning  this,  as  concerning  any 
of  h:s  other  perfections,  that  it  must  needs 
extend  hither,  but  not  thither  :  that  it  ouo-ht 
to  have  prevented  sin,  but  not  to  have  given 
Jesus  Christ  to  die  for  the  salvation  of  sin- 
ners. Our  notion  of  the  goodness  of  God 
should  agree  with  the  inconceivableness  of 
his  nature,  and,  provided  we  have  good  proofs 
of  what  we  believe,  we  ought  not  to  stao-ger 
at  the  objections  which  an  insufficient,  or  ra- 
ther an  insolent  reason,  has  the  audacity  to 
oppose  to  it. 

III.  Our  notion  of  the  goodness  of  G  d 
should  agree  with  the  holiness  of  his  drsifrns 
I  mean,  that  it  would  imply  a  contradiction 


to  suppose  that  a  Being  who  is  supremely 
holy,  should  have  a  close  communion  of  love 
with  unholy  creatures,  considered  as  unholy 
and  unconverted.  By  this  principle  we  ex- 
clude the  dreadful  consequences,  that  weak- 
ness and  wickedness  have  been  used  to  infer 
from  the  doctrine  under  our  consideration. 
We  oppose  this  principle  t:>  the  execrable 
reasoning  of  those  libertines,  who  say,  (and, 
alas  !  how  many  people,  who  adopt  this  waj 
of  reasoning,  mix  v/ith  the  saints,  and  pretend 
to  be  saints  themselves  '.)  '  Let  us  continue  in 
sin  that  grace  may  abound."  Rom.  vi.  1.  With 
the  sanie  principle  the  prophet  guards  the 
text.  '  Like  as  a  father  pitietli  his  rhildren,  so 
doth  the  L-rd  pity,'  whom  -  Them,  v.  ho  estab- 
lish their  crimes  on  the  mere}  of  God  .'  God 
forbid  I  '  So  doth  the  Lord  pity  them  that  fear 
hnn.'  This  truth  is  so  conformable  to  right 
reason,  so  often  repeated  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, arxl  so  frequently  enforced  in  thi'^  pul- 
pit, that  none  but  tliose  who  wilfully  deceive 
themselves  can  mistake  the  matter ;  and  for 
these  reasons  we  dismiss  this  article. 

IV.  The  love  of  God  <s  in  perfect  harmonj 
with  the  independence  of  his  principles.  In 
terest  isthe  spring  that  moves,  and  very  often 
the  defect  that  destroys  human  friend.ships- 
It  must  be  allowed,  however,  that  thouorh 
principles  of  interest  may  appear  low  and 
mean,  yet  they  often  deserve  pity  more  than 
blame.  It  would  be  extremely  difficult  for  a 
debtor,  if  he  were  oppressed  by  a  merciless 
creditor,  to  love  any  person  more  than  him, 
who  should  be  both  able  and  willing  to  free 
him  from  the  oppressor's  iron  rod.  It  would 
be  strange  if  a  starving  man  were  not  to  have 
a  more  vehement  love  for  him  who  should  re- 
lieve his  necessities,  than  for  any  one  else. 
While  our  necessities  continue  as  pressing  as 
they  are  in  this  valley  of  tears,  principles  of 
interest  will  occupy  the  most  of  our  thoughts, 
and  will  direct  the  best  of  our  friendships. 
Disinterested  love  seems  to  be  incompatible 
with  the  state  of  indigent  CTeatures. 

But  God  forbid  that  we  should  entertairs 
similar  notions  of  the  Deity  !  God  is  supremely 
happy.  His  love  to  his  creatures  is  supremely 
disinterested.  Indeed,  what  interest  can  he 
have  in  loving  us.'  Were  this  world,  which 
has  existed  but  a  little  while,  to  cease  to  exist ; 
were  all  the  beings  upon  earth,  material  and 
immaterial,  to  return  to  their  rjonentity  ; 
were  God  to  remain  alone,  he  would  enjoy 
infinite  happiness  ;  in  possessing  himself  he 
would  possess  perfect  felicity.  '  Every  beast 
of  the  forest  is  his,  and  the  cattle  upon  a 
thousand  hills,'  Ps.  1.  10  ;  sacrificial  flesh  af- 
fords no  nourishment  to  him  ;  clouds  of  fra- 
grant incense  communicate  no  odours  to  liim  ; 
he  is  not  entertained  with  the  harmony  of  the 
music  that  is  performed  in  his  honour  ;  for 
'  our  goodness  extendeth  not  to  lilm,'  Ps.  xvi. 
2.  The  praises  of  the  seraphim  can  no  more 
augment  the  splendour  of  his  glory,  than  the 
blasphemies  of  the  damned  can  diminish  it. 

V.  The  loveof  (iod  to  his  creatures  agrees 
with  the  immvtahilitij  of  his  will.  There  is 
but  little  reality,  and  less  permanency,  in  hu- 
man love.  The  names  of  steadiness,  constancy, 
and  equanimity,  an  indelible  image,  an  ever- 
lasting impression,  a  perpetual  idea,  an  end- 
less attachment,   an    eternal  friendship,  all 


Ser.  VII.] 


THE  COMPASSION  OF  GOD. 


97 


these  are  only  names,  only  empty,  unmeaning 
sounds,  when  they  are  applied  to  those  senti- 
ments which  the  most  faithful  friends  enter- 
tain for  each  other. 

I  am  not  describing  now  those  light  and  in- 
constant people  only,  who  are  as  ready  to 
break  as  to  form  connexions  :  I  am  describing 
people  of  another,  and  a  better,  disposition  of 
jnind.  We  are  ignorant  of  ourselves  when 
•we  imagine  ourselves  capable  of  a  permanent 
attachment,  and,  when  we  think  that  we 
shall  always  love,  because  we  are  assured 
that  we  love  at  present,  we  are  the  first  to 
deceive  ourselves.  This  man,  who  only  at 
certain  times  discovers  sentiments  of  tender- 
ness, is  not  a  hypocrite.  That  woman  was 
very  sincere,  when  weeping  over  a  dying  hus- 
band, and  in  some  sense  more  agonizing  than 
he,  she  just  gathered  strength  enough  to 
close  the  eyes  of  her  departing  all,  and  pro- 
tested that  she  should  never  enjoy  another 
moment,  e.xcept  that  in  which  the  great  Dis- 
poser of  all  events  should  appoint  her  to  fel- 
low her  beloved  partner  to  the  grave :  the 
woman  expressed  what  she  then  felt,  and 
what  she  thought  she  should  always  feel :  but, 
however,  time  brought  forward  new  objects, 
and  other  scenes  have  calmed  the  violence  of 
her  passions,  and  have  placed  her  in  a  state  of 
tranquillity  and  submission  to  the  will  of  God, 
which  all  the  maxims  of  rehgion  had  not  the 
power  of  producing. 

People  are  not  always  to  be  blamed  for  the 
sliglitness  of  their  friendships.  Our  levity 
constitutes,  in  some  sort,  our  felicity,  and  our 
perfections  apologize  for  our  inconstancy. 
Life  would  be  one  continued  agony  if  our 
friendships  were  always  in  the  same  degree  of 
activity.  Rachel  would  be  infinitely  misera- 
ble, if  she  were  always  thinking  about  *  her 
children,  and  would  not  be  comforted  because 
they  are  not,'  Matt.  ii.  18.  I  only  mean  to  ob- 
serve, that  a  character  of  levity  is  essential  to 
the  friendships  of  finite  human  minds. 

God  alone  is  capable,  (O  thou  adorable  Be- 
ing, who  only  canst  have  such  noble  senti- 
ments, enable  us  to  express  them  !)  God  only, 
my  dear  brethren,  is  capable  of  a  love,  real, 
solid,  and  permanent,  free  from  diversion  and 
without  interruption.  What  delineations, 
what  representations,  what  purposes,  revolv- 
ed in  the  infinite  mind,  before  that  appointed 
period,  in  Vi^hich  he  had  determined  to  express 
himself  in  exterior  works,  and  to  give  exist- 
ence to  a  multitude  of  creatures .''  Yet 
throughout  all  these  countless  ages,  through 
all  these  unfathomable  abysses  of  eternity  (I 
know  no  literal  terms  to  express  eternity)  yet 
through  all  eternity  he  thought  of  us,  my 
dear  brethren  ;  then  he  formed  the  plan  of  our 
salvation  ;  then  he  appointed  the  victim  that 
procured  it  ;  then  he  laid  up  for  us  the  felicity 
and  glory  that  we  hope  for  ever  to  cnjo)' ! 
What  care  and  application  are  required  to  in- 
spect, to  order,  and  arrange  the  numberless 
beings  of  the  whole  earth.-'  The  whole  earth, 
did  I  say  ?  The  whole  earth  is  only  an  incon- 
siderable point :  but  what  care  and  apjtlication 
are  required  to  inspect,  to  order  and  arrange  the 
worlds  which  we  discover  revolving  over  our 
heads  with  other  worlds,  that  we  have  a  right 
to  suppose  in  the  immensity  of  space .''  Yet 
this  application  does  not  prevent  his  atten- 


tion to  thee,  believer ;  thy  health  he  guards, 
thy  family  he  guides,  thy  fortune  and  thy  sal- 
vation he  governs,  as  if  each  were  the  only 
object  of  his  care,  and  as  if  thou  wert  alone 
in  the  universe  !  What  an  immensity  of  hap- 
piness must  fill  the  intelligence  of  God,  who 
is  himself  the  source  of  fel'city;  of  a  God, 
who  is  surrounded  with  angels,  archangels, 
and  happy  spirits,  serving  him  day  and  night, 
continually  attending  round  his  throne,  and 
waiting  to  fly  at  a  signal  of  his  will ;  of  a  God, 
who  directs  and  disposes  all ;  of  a  God,  who, 
existing  with  the  Word  and  the  Holy  Spirit, 
enjoys  in  that  union  inconceivable  and  ineiFa- 
ble  delights ;  and  yet  the  enjoyment  of  his 
own  happiness  does  not  at  all  divert  his  atten- 
tion t'rom  the  happiness  of  his  creatures  !  If  a 
Saul  persecute  his  church,  he  is  persecuted 
with  it.  Act?:  ix.  4,  and  when  profane  hands 
touch  his  children,  they  '  touch  the  apple  of 
his  eye,'  Zech.  ii.  8.  '  In  all  her  affliction 
he  is  afflicted-'  Isa.  Ixiii.  9  ;  '  lo  !  he  is  with 
us  always,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world,' 
Matt,  xxviii.  20. 

VI.  The  goodness  of  God  must  harmonize 
with  the  efficiency  of  his  will.  The  great  de- 
fect of  human  friendships  is  their  inefiicacy. 
The  unavailing  emotions  that  men  may  feel 
for  each  other,  their  ineffectual  wishes  for 
each  other's  happiness,  we  denominate  friend- 
ship. But  suppose  a  union  of  every  heart 
in  thy  favour  ;  suppose,  though  without  a  pre- 
cedent, thyself  the  object  of  the  love  of  all 
mankind,  what  benefit  couldst  thou  derive 
from  all  this  love  in  some  circumstances  of 
thy  life  ?  What  relief  from  real  evils  ?  Ah  !  my 
friends,  ye  are  eager  to  assist  me  in  my  dying 
agonies  ;  Alas  !  my  family,  ye  are  distressed 
to  death  to  see  me  die  ;  ye  love  me,  and  I 
know  the  tears  that  bathe  you,  flow  from  your 
hearts  ;  yes,  ye  love  me,  but  I  must  die  ! 

None  but  the  infinite  God,  my  dear  breth- 
ren, none  but  the  adorable  God  hath  an  effi- 
cient love.  '  If  God  he  for  us,  who  can  be 
against  us  .-"  Rom.  viii.  31.  I^et  the  elements 
be  let  loose  against  my  person  and  my  life, 
let  mankind,  who  differ  about  every  thing 
else,  agree  to  torment  me,  let  there  be  a  ge 
neral  conspiracy  of  nature  and  society  against 
my  happiness,  what  does  it  signify  to  me  .''  If 
God  love  me,  I  shall  be  happy  :  with  God  to 
love  and  to  beatify  is  one  and  the  same  act  of 
his  self-efficient  will. 

VII.  But  finally,  the  goodness  of  God  must 
agree  with  his  veracity.  I  mean  that  although 
the  many  Scripture-images  of  the  goodness  of 
God  are  imperfect,  and  must  not  be  literally 
understood,  they  must,  however,  have  a  real 
sense  and  meaning.  Moreover,  I  affirm,  that 
the  grandeur  of  the  original  is  not  at  all  di- 
minished, but  on  the  contrary,  that  our  ideas 
of  it  are  very  much  enlarged,  by  purifying 
and  retrenching  the  images  that  represent  it ; 
and  this  we  are  obliged  to  do  on  account  of 
the  eminence  of  the  divine  perfections.  And 
here,  my  brethren,  I  own  I  am  involved  in 
the  most  agreeable  difficulty  that  can  be  ima 
gined  ;  and  my  mind  is  absorbed  in  an  innu- 
merable multitude  of  objects,  each  of  which 
verifies  the  proposition  in  the  text.  I  am  obli- 
ged to  pass  by  a  world  of  proofs  and  demon- 
strations. Yes,  I  pass  by  the  firmament  with 
all  its  stars,  the  earth  with  all  its  productionsj 


9S 


THE  COMPASSION  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  vir 


the  treasures  of  the  sea  and  the  inflnencce  of 
the  air,  the  symmetry  of  tlie  bod}',  the  cliarms 
of  society,  and  many  otiier  objects,  which  in 
the  most  elegant  and  pathetic  manner,  preacli 
the  Creator's  goodness  to  ns.  Those  grand 
objects  wJiich  have  excited  tlie  astonishment 
of  pliilosophers,  and  filled  the  inspired  writers 
with  wonder  and  praise,  scarcely  merit  a  mo- 
ment's attention  to-day,  I  stop  at  the  princi- 
pal idea  of  the  prophet.  We  have  before  ob- 
served, that  the  term  which  is  rendered  pity 
in  the  text,  is  a  vague  word,  and  is  often  put 
in  Scripture  for  the  goodness  of  God  in  gene- 
ral ;  however,  we  must  acknowledge,  that  it 
most  properly  signifies  the  disposition  of  a 
good  parent,  who  is  inclined  to  show  mercy  to 
his  son,  when  he  is  become  sensible  of  his 
follies,  and  endeavours  b\'  new  effusions  of 
love  to  re-establish  the  communion  tliat  his 
disobedience  had  interrupted  :  this  is  certainly 
the  principal  idea  of  the  prophet. 

Now  who  can  doubt,  my  brethren,  whether 
God  possesses  the  reality  of  this  image  in  the 
most  noble,  the  most  rich,  and  the  most  emi- 
nent sense  ?  Wouldst  thou  be  convinced,  sin- 
ner, of  the  truth  of  the  declaration  of  the 
text .'  Wovildst  thou  know  the  extent  of  the 
mercy  of  God  to  poor  sinful  men  .'  Consider 
then,  1.  The  victim  that  he  has  substituted  in 
their  stead.  2.  The  patience  which  he  exer- 
cises towards  them.  3.  The  crimes  that  he 
pardons.  4.  The  familiar  friendship  to  which 
he  invites  them.  And  5.  The  rewards  that 
he  bestows  on  them.  Ah  !  ye  tender  fathers, 
ye  mothers  who  seem  to  be  all  love  for  vour 
children,  ye  whose  eyes,  wliose  hearts,  whose 
perpetual  cares  and  affections  are  concentred 
in  them,  yield,  yield  to  the  love  of  God  for 
his  children,  and  acknowledge  that  God 
only  knows  how  to  love  ! 

Let  us  remark,  1.  The  sacrifice  that  God 
has  substituted  in  the  sinner's  stead.  One  of 
the  liveliest  and  most  emphatical  expressions 
of  the  love  of  God,  in  my  opinion,  is  that  in 
the  gospel  of  St.  John.  '  God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,' 
ch.  iii.  IG.  Weigh  these  words,  my  brethren, 
*  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son.'  Metaphysical  ideas  begin  to 
grow  into  disrepute,  and  I  am  not  surprised 
at  it.  Mankind  have  such  imperfect  notions 
of  substances,  they  know  so  little  of  the  na- 
ture of  spirits,  particularly,  they  arc  so  entire- 
ly at  a  loss  in  reasoning  on  the  Infinite  Spirit, 
that  we  need  not  be  astonished  if  people  retire 
from  a  speculative  track  in  which  the  indis- 
cretion of  some  has  made  great  mistakes. 

Behold  a  sure  system  of  metaphysics. 
Convinced  of  the  imperfection  of  all  my 
knowledge,  but  particularly  of  my  discoveries 
of  the  being  and  perfections  of  God,  I  consult 
the  sacred  oracles,  which  God  has  published, 
in  order  to  obtain  right  notions  of  him.  I 
immediately  perceive  that  God,  in  speaking 
of  himself,  has  proportioned  his  language  to 
the  weakness  of  men,  to  whom  he  lias  ad- 
dressed his  word.  In  this  view,  I  meet  with 
no  ditficulty  in  explaining  those  passages  in 
which  God  says,  that  he  has  hands  or  feet, 
eyes  or  heart,  that  he  goes  or  comes,  ascends 
or  descends,  tiiat  he  is  in  some  cases  pleased, 
and  in  others  ))rovoked. 

Yet  1  think,  it  would  be  a  strange  abuse 


of  this  notion  of  Scripture,  not  to  understand 
some  constant  ideas  literally ;  ideas  which 
the  Scriptures  give  us  of  God,  and  on  which 
the  system  of  Christianity  partly  rests. 

I  perceive,  and  I  think  very  clearly,  that 
the  Scriptures  constantly  speak  of  a  being,  a. 
person,  or  if  I  may  speak  so,  a  portion  of  the 
divine  essence,  which  is  called  the  Father, 
and  another  that  is  called  the  Son. 

I  think,  I  perceive  with  equal  evidence  in 
the  same  book,  that  between  these  two  per- 
sons, the  Father  and  the  Son,  there  is  the 
closest  and  most  intimate  union  that  can  be 
imagined.  What  lore  must  there  be  between 
these  two  persons,  who  have  the  same  per- 
fections and  the  same  ideas,  the  same  pur- 
poses and  the  same  plans .''  What  love  must 
subsist  between  two  persons,  whose  union  is 
not  interrupted  by  any  calamity  without,  by 
any  passion  within,  or,  to  speak  more  fally 
still,  by  any  imagination.'' 

With  equal  clearness  I  perceive,  that  the 
man  Jesus,  who  was  born  at  Bethlehem,  and 
was  laid  in  a  manger,  was  in  the  closest  union 
with  the  Word,  that  is,  with  the  Son  of  God  ; 
and  that  in  virtue  of  this  union  the  man  Jesus 
is  more  beloved  of  God  than  all  the  other 
creatures  of  the  universe. 

No  less  clearly  do  I  perceive  in  Scripture, 
that  the  man  Jesus,  who  is  as  closely  united 
to  the  Eternal  Word,  as  the  word  is  to  God, 
was  delivered  for  me,  a  vile  creature,  to  the 
most  ignominious  treatment,  to  sufferings  the 
most  painful,  and  the  most  shameful,  that 
were  ever  inflicted  on  the  meanest  and  ba- 
sest of  mankind. 

And  when  I  inquire  the  cause  of  this  great 
mystery,  when  I  ask.  Why  did  the  Almighty 
God  bestow  so  rich  a  present  on  me  .''  Espe- 
cially when  I  apply  to  revelation  for  an  expli- 
cation of  this  mystery,  which  reason  cannot 
fully  explain,  I  can  find  no  other  cause  than 
the  compassion  of  God. 

Let  the  schools  take  their  way,  let  reason 
lose  itself  in  speculations,  yea,  let  faith  find  it 
diflicult  to  submit  to  a  doctrine,  which  has 
always  appeared  with  an  awflil  solemnity  to 
those  who  have  thought  and  meditated  on  it ; 
for  my  part,  I  abide  by  this  clear  and  aston- 
ishing, but  at  the  same  time,  this  kind  and 
comfortable  proposition,  '  God  so  loved  tho 
world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son.' 
When  people  show  us  Jesus  Christ  in  the 
garden,  sweating  gi-eat  drops  of  blond  ;  when 
they  speak  of  his  trial  before  Caiaphas  and 
Pilate,  in  which  he  was  interrogated,  insulted, 
and  scourged ;  when  they  present  him  to  our 
view  upon  mount  Calvary,  nailed  to  a  cross, 
anil  bowing  beneath  the  blows  of  heaven  and 
earth  ;  when  they  require  the  reason  of  these 
formidable  and  surprising  phenomena,  we  will 
answer,  It  is  because  God  loved  maiikind ;  it 
is  because  '  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he 
gave  his  only  begotten  Son." 

2  The  patience  that  God  exercises  towards 
sinners,  is  otir  second  remark.  Here,  my 
bretlircn,  I  wish  that  as  many  of  you  as  are 
interested  in  this  article  would  allow  me  to 
omit  particulars,  and  would  recollect  the  his- 
tories of  your  own  lives. 

My  life,  says  one,  is  consumed  in  perpetual 
indolence.  I  am  a  stranger  to  the  practice 
of  private  devotion,  and  to  speak  the  truth,  I 


Ser.  VII.] 


THE  COMPASSION  OF  GOD. 


99 


consider  it  only  as  a  fancy.  I  attend  public 
worship,  only  because  I  would  conform  to  ex- 
ample and  custom.  I  hear  the  sermons  of 
the  ministers  of  the  gospel  as  amusive  dis- 
courses, that  treat  of  subjects  in  which  I  have 
no  interest.  I  take  no  part  in  the  prayers 
that  are  addressed  to  God  in  behalf  of  the 
sick  or  the  poor,  the  church  or  the  state. 

I,  says  a  second,  ever  since  I  have  been  in 
the  world,  have  cherished  one  of  the  most 
shameful  and  criminal  passions ;  sometimes  I 
have  been  shocked  at  its  turpitude,  and  some- 
times I  have  resolved  to  free  myself  from  it : 
in  some  of  my  sicknesses,  which  I  thought 
would  have  ended  in  death,  I  determined  on 
a  sincere  conversion :  sometimes  a  sermon,  or 
a  pious  book,  has  brought  me  to  self-exaniina- 
tion,  which  has  ended  in  a  promise  of  refor- 
mation :  sometimes  the  sight  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  an  institution  properly  adapted  to 
display  the  sinfulness  of  sin,  has  exhibited  my 
sin  in  all  its  heinousness,  and  has  bound  me 
by  oath  to  sacrifice  my  unworthy  passion  to 
God.  But  my  corruption  has  been  superior 
to  all,  and  yet  God  has  borne  with  me  to  this 
day. 

A  third  must  say,  As  for  me  I  have  lived 
thirty  or  forty  years  in  a  country  where  the 
public  profession  of  religion  is  prohibited,  and 
I  have  passed  all  the  time  without  a  member- 
ship to  any  church,  without  ordinances,  with- 
out public  worship,  and  without  the  hope  of  a 
pastor  to  comfort  me  in  my  dying  illness ;  I 
have  seduced  my  family  by  my  example  ;  I 
have  consented  to  the  settlement  of  my  chil- 
dren, and  have  suffered  them  to  contract 
marriages  without  the  blessing  of  heaven ; 
my  lukewarmness  has  caused  first  their  indif- 
ference, and  last  their  apostacy,  and  will  per- 
haps cause  ....  and  yet  God  has  borne 
with  me  to  this  day. 

Why  has  he  borne  with  me .'  It  is  not  a 
eonnivance,  at  sin,  for  he  hates  and  detests  it. 
It  is  not  ignorance,  for  he  penetrates  the  in- 
most recesses  of  my  soul,  nor  has  a  single  act, 
no,  not  a  single  act  of  my  rebellion,  eluded  the 
eearch  of  his  all-piercing  eye.  It  is  not  a 
want  of  power  to  punish  a  criminal,  for  he 
holds  the  thunders  in  his  mighty  hands,  at 
his  command  hell  opens,  and  the  fallen  angels 
wait  only  for  his  permission  to  seize  their 
prey.  Why  then  do  I  yet  subsist .'  Why  do  I 
see  the  light  of  this  day  ?  Why  are  the  doors 
of  this  church  once  more  open  to  me  .''  It  is 
because  he  commiserates  poor  sinners.  It  is 
because  he  pities  me  '  as  a  father  pitieth  his 
children. ' 

3.  Let  us  remark  the  crimes  which  God 
pardons.  There  is  no  sin  excepted,  no,  not 
one,  in  the  list  of  those  which  God  has  pro- 
mised to  forgive  to  true  penitents.  He  par- 
dons not  only  the  sins  of  those  whom  he  has 
not  called  into  his  visible  church,  who,  not 
having  been  indulged  with  this  kind  of  be- 
nefits, have  not  had  it  in  their  power  to  carrj' 
ingratitude  to  its  height :  but  he  pardons  also 
crimes  committed  under  such  dispensations 
as  seem  to  render  sin  least  pardonable.  He  par- 
dons sins  committed  under  the  dispensation 
of  the  law,  as  he  forgives  those  which  are 
committed  under  the  dispensation  of  nature ; 
and  those  that  are  committed  under  tlie  dis-  i 
pensation  of  the  gospel,  as  those  which  are  j 


committed  under  the  law.  He  forgives,  not 
only  such  sins  as  have  been  committed  through 
ignorance,  infirmity,  and  inadvertency,  but 
such  also  as  have  been  committed  deliberate- 
ly and  obstinately.  He  not  only  forgiN  es  the 
sins  of  a  day,  a  week,  or  a  month,  but  he  for- 
gives also  tlie  sins  of  a  great  number  of  years, 
those  which  have  been  formed  into  an  inve- 
terate habit,  and  have  grown  old  with  the  sin- 
ner. '  Though  }'our  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they 
shall  be  as  white  as  snow  ;  though  they  be 
red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  wool.'  Isa. 
i.  18. 

But  what  am  I  saying .'  It  is  not  enough  to 
say  that  God  forgives  sins,  he  unites  himself 
to  those  who  have  conimitted  them  by  the 
most  tender  and  affectionate  ties. 

4.  Our  next  article  therefore  regards  the 
familiar  friendship  to  which  God  invites  us. 
What  intimate,  close,  and  affectionate  rela- 
tion canst  thou  imagine,  which  God  is  not 
willing  to  form  with  thee  in  religion  ?  Art  thou 
affected  with  the  vigilance  of  a  shepherd, 
who  watches  over,  and  sacrifices  all  his  care, 
and  even  his  life  for  his  flock  .'  This  relation 
God  will  have  with  thee  :  '  The  Lord  is  my 
shepherd,  I  shall  not  want.  He  maketh  me 
to  lie  down  in  green  pastures  :  he  leadeth  me 
beside  the  still  waters,'  Psa.  xxiii.  1,  2.  Art 
thou  affected  with  the  confidence  of  a  friend, 
who  opens  his  heart  to  his  friend,  and  com- 
municates to  him  his  most  secret  thoughts, 
dividing  with  him  all  his  pleasures  and  all  hie 
pains  ?  God  will  have  this  relation  with  thee : 
'  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that 
fear  him,'  Ps.  .x.xv.  14.  '  Shall  I  hide  from 
Abraham  that  thmg  which  I  do  .''  Gen.  xviii. 
17.  '  I  call  you  not  servants  ;  for  the  servant 
knoweth  not  what  his  Lord  doeth  :  but  I  have 
called  you  friends ;  for  all  things  thai  1  have 
heard  of  my  Father,  I  have  made  known  unto 
you,'  John  xv.  15.  Art  thou  touched  with 
the  tenderness  of  a  mother,  whose  highest 
earthly  happiness  is  to  suckle  the  son  of  her 
womb  .-  God  will  have  this  relation  with  thee  : 
'  can  a  woman  forget  her  sucking  child,  that 
she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the  son  ot 
her  womb  .'  yea,  they  may  forget,  yet  will  I 
not  forget  thee,'  Isa.  xlix.  15. 

Hast  thou  some  good  reasons  for  disgust 
with  human  connexions  ?  Are  thy  views  so 
liberal  and  delicate  as  to  afford  thee  a  convic- 
tion that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  real  friend- 
ship among  men  .'  And  that  what  are  called 
connexions,  friendships,  affections,  unions, 
tendernesses,are  generally  no  other  than  inter- 
changes of  deceit  disguised  under  agreeable 
names  .'  Are  thy  feelings  so  refined  that  thou 
sighest  after  connexions  formed  on  a  nobler 
plan.'  God  will  have  such  connexion  with 
thee.  Yes,  there  is,  in  the  plan  of  religion, 
a  union  formed  between  God  and  us,  on  the 
plan  of  that  which  subsists  between  the  three 
persons  in  the  godhead,  the  object  of  our 
worship :  that  is,  as  far  as  a  similar  union  be- 
tween God  and  us  can  subsist  without  con- 
tradiction. God  grants  this  to  the  interces- 
sion of  his  Son,  in  virtue  of  that  perfect  obe- 
dience which  he  rendered  to  his  Father  on 
the  cross.  This  Jesus  Christ  requested  for 
us,  on  the  eve  of  that  day,  in  which,  by  his 
ever  memorable  sacrifice,  he  reconciled  hea- 
ven and  earth :  '  1  pray  not  for  the  world,  but 


100 


THE  COMPASSION  OF  GOD. 


[Ser.  VII 


for  them  which  thou  hast  given  me,  for  they 
are  thine,'  John  xvii.  9.  '  Neither  pray  I  for 
these  alone,  but  for  them  also  which  shall  be- 
lieve on  me  through  their  word :  that  they 
all  may  be  one,  as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me, 
and  I  in  thee ;  that  they  also  may  be  one  in 
lis,'  ver.  20,  21.  Do  not  inquire  the  possibi- 
lity of  this  union,  how  we  can  be  one  with  God 
and  with  Jesus  Christ,  as  Jesus  Christ  and 
God  are  one.  Our  hearts,  as  defective  in  the 
power  of  feeling  as  our  minds  in  that  of  rea- 
soning, have  no  faculties,  at  present,  for  the 
knowledge  of  such  things  as  can  be  known 
only  by  feeling.  But  the  time  will  come 
when  both  sense  and  intelligence  will  be 
expanded,  and  then  we  shall  know,  by  a  hap- 
py experience,  what  it  is  to  be  one  with  God 
and  with  Jesus  Christ. 

This  leads  us  to  our  5th  and  last  article, 
That  is,  the  felicity  that  God  reserves  for  his 
children  in  another  world.  A  reunion  of  all 
the  felicities  of  this  present  world  would 
not  be  sufficient  to  express  the  love  of  God  to 
us.  Nature  is  too  indigent :  our  faculties  are 
too  indigent :  society  is  too  indigent :  religion 
itself  is  too  indigent. 

Nature  is  too  indigent :  it  might  indeed  af- 
ford us  a  temperate  air,  an  earth  enamelled 
wiih  flowers,  trees  laden  with  fruits,  and  cli- 
mates rich  with  delights  ;  but  all  its  present 
beauties  are  inadequate  to  the  love  of  God, 
and  there  must  be  another  world,  another 
economy,  '  new  lieavens  and  a  new  earth,'  Isa. 
Ixv.  17. 

Our  faculties  are  too  indigent ;  they  might 
indeed  adniit  abundant  pleasures,  for  we  are 
capable  of  knowing,  and  God  could  gratify 
our  desire  of  knowledge.  We  are  capable  of 
agreeable  sensations,  and  God  is  able  to  give 
us  objects  proportional  to  our  sensations  ;  and 
so  of  the  rest.  But  all  these  gratifications 
would  be  too  little  to  express  the  love  of  God 
to  us.  Our  faculties  must  be  renewed,  and  in 
some  sense,  new  cast  ;  for  '  this  corruptible 
body  must  put  on  incorruption  ;  this  natural 
body  must  become  a  spiritual  body,'  1  Cor. 
XV.  53.  44.  so  that  by  means  of  more  delicate 
organs  we  may  enjoy  more  exquisite  plea- 
sures. Our  souls  must  be  united  to  glorified 
bodies,  by  laws  difi'erent  fiom  those  which  now 
unite  us  to  matter,  in  order  to  capacitate  us 
for  more  extensive  knowledge. 

Society  is  too  indigent,  although  society 
might  become  an  ocean  of  pleasure  to  us. 
There  are  men  whose  friendships  are  full  of 
charms  ;  their  conversations  are  edifying,  and 
their  acquaintance  delightful ;  and  God  is 
able  to  place  us  among  such  amiable  charac- 
ters in  this  world  :  but  society  has  nothing 
great  enough  to  express  the  love  of  God  to 
us.  We  must  be  introduced  to  the  society  of 
glorified  saints,  and  to  thousands  of  angels 
and  happy  spirits,  who  are  capable  of  more 
magnanimity  and  delicacy  than  all  that  we 
can  imagine  here. 

Religion  itself  is  too  indigent,  although  it 
might  open  to  us  a  source  of  deliglit.  What 
pleasin-e  has  religion  afforded  us  on  those  hap- 
py days  of  our  lives,  in  which,  having  fled 
from  the  crowd,  and  suspended  our  love  to 
the  world,  we  meditated  on  the  grand  truths 
which  God  has  revealed  to  us  in  his  word  ; 
when  we  ascended  to  God  by  fervent  prayer ; 


or  renewed  at  the  Lord's  table  our  commu- 
nion with  him  !  How  often  have  holy  men 
been  enraptured  in  these  exercLses !  How 
often  have  they  exclaimed  during  these  fore- 
tastes. Our  souls  are  '  satisfied  as  with  mar- 
sow  and  fatness,'  Psal  Ixiii.  5.  '  O  how  great 
is  thy  goodness,  which  thou  hast  laid  up  for 
them  that  fear  thee,'  xxxi.  19.  We  are 
'  abundantly  satisfied  with  the  fatness  of  thy 
house  :  we  drink  of  the  river  of  thy  plea- 
sures,' Psal.  xxxvi.  8.  Yet  even  religion  can 
afford  nothing  here  below  that  can  sufficient- 
ly express  the  love  of  God  to  us.  We  must 
be  admitted  into  that  state  in  which  there  is 
neither  temple  nor  sun,  because  God  supplies 
the  place  of  both.  Rev.  xxi.  22,  23.  We  are 
to  behold  God,  not  surrounded  with  such  a 
handful  of  people  as  this,  but  with  •  thousand 
thousands,  and  ten  thousand  times  ten  thou- 
sand,' Dan.  vii.  10,  who  stand  continually  be- 
fore him.  We  must  see  God,  not  in  the  dis- 
plays of  his  grace  in  our  churches,  but  in  all 
the  magnificence  of  his  glory  in  heaven.  We 
are  to  prostrate  ourselves  before  him,  not  at 
the  Lord's  table,  where  he  is  made  known  to 
us  in  the  symbols  of  bread  and  wine  :  (august 
symbols  indeed,  but  too  gross  to  exhibit  the 
grandeurs  of  God)  but  we  are  to  behold  him 
upon  the  throne  of  glory,  worshipped  by  all 
the  happy  host  of  heaven.  Wiiy.t  cause  pro- 
duces those  noble  effects  .-'  From  what  source 
do  those  '  rivers  of  pleasure  flow  .''  Psalm 
xxxiv.  8.  It  is  love  which  '  lays  up  all  this 
goodness  for  us,'  Psal  xxxi.  19.  '  I  drew 
them  with  cords  of  a  man,  with  bands  of 
love,'  Hos.  xi.  4. 

Let  us  meditate  on  the  love  of  God,  who, 
being  supremely  happy  himself,  communi- 
cates perfect  happiness  to  us.  Supreme  hap- 
piness does  not  make  God  foriret  us  ;  shall 
the  miserable  comlbrts  of  this  life  make  us 
forget  him  .^  Our  attachments  to  this  life  are 
so  strong,  the  acquaintances  that  we  have 
contracted  in  this  world  so  many,  and  the  re- 
lations that  we  bear  so  tender  ;  we  are,  in  a 
word,  so  habituated  to  live,  that  we  need  not 
wonder  if  it  cost  us  a  good  deal  to  be  willing 
to  die.  But  this  attachment  to  life,  which, 
when  it  proceeds  only  to  a  certain  degree,  is 
a  sinless  infirmity,  becomes  one  of  the  most 
criminal  dispositions  when  it  exceeds  its  just 
limits.  It  is  not  right  that  the  objects  of  di- 
vine love  should  lose  sight  of  their  chief 
good,  in  a  world  where,  after  their  best  en- 
deavours, there  will  be  too  many  obstacles 
between  them  and  God.  It  is  not  right  that 
rational  creatures,  wlio  have  heard  of  the 
pure,  extensive,  and  munificent  love  of  God 
to  them,  should  be  destitute  of  the  most  ar- 
dent desires  of  a  chiser  union  to  him  than  any 
that  can  be  attained  in  this  life.  One  single 
moment's  delay  should  give  us  pain,  and 
if  we  wish  to  live,  it  should  be  only  to  pre- 
pare to  die.  We  ought  to  desire  life  only 
to  mortify  sin,  to  practise  and  to  perfect  vir- 
tue, to  avail  ourselves  of  opportunities  of 
knowing  ourselves  better,  and  of  obtaining 
stronger  assurances  of  our  salvation.  No, 
I  can  never  persuade  myself  that  a  man, 
who  is  wise  in  the  truths  of  which  we  have 
been  discoursing,  a  man,  in  whom  the  lore 
of  God  has  been  '  shed  abroad  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  given  unto  him,'  Rom.  v.  5 ;  a  man, 


Ser.  VIII.]        INCOMPREHENSIBILITY  OF  THE  MERCY     OF  GOD. 


101 


who  thinks  himself  an  object  of  the  love  of 
the  Great  Supreme,  and  who  knows  that  the 
Great  Supreme  will  not  render  him  perfectly 
happy  in  this  life,  but  in  the  next,  can  aiford 
much  time  for  tlie  amusements  of  this.  I  can 
never  persuade  myself  that  a  man,  who  has 
such  elevated  notions,  and  such  magnificent 
prospects,  can  make  a  very  serious  affair  of 
having  a  great  name  in  this  world,  of  lodging 
in  a  palace,  or  of  descending  from  an  illustri- 
ous ancestry.  These  little  passions,  if  we  con- 
sider them  in  themselves,  may  seem  almost  in- 
different, and  I  grant  if  ye  will,  that  they  are 
not  always  attended  with  very  bad  conse- 
quences, that,  in  some  cases,  they  injure  no- 
body, and  in  many,  cause  no  trouble  in  socie- 
ty :  but,  if  we  consider  the  principle  from 
which  they  proceed,  they  will  appear  very 
mortifying  to  as.  We  shall  find  tliat  the  zeal 
and  fervour,  the  impatient  breathings  of  some, 
'  ta  depart,  and  to  be  with  Christ,'  Phil.  i. 


23  ;  the  aspiring  of  a  soul  after  the  ehlef 
good  ;  the  prayer,  '  Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come 
quickly,'  Rev.  xxli.  20  ;  the  eager  wish, 
'  When  shall  I  come  and  appear  before  God,' 
Psal.  xlii.  2.  We.  shall  find  that  these  dispo- 
sitions, which  some  of  us  treat  as  enthusiasm, 
and  which  others  of  us  refer  to  saints  of  the 
first  order,  to  whose  perfections  we  have  not 
the  presumption  to  aspire  ;  we  shall  find,  I 
say,  that  these  dispositions  are  more  essen- 
tial to  Christianity  tiian  we  may  have  hither- 
to imagined. 

May  God  make  us  truly  sensible  of  that 
noble  and  tender  love  which  God  has  for  us  ! 
May  God  kindle  our  love  at  the  fire  of  his 
own  !  May  God  enable  us  to  know  religion 
by  such  pleasures  as  they  experience  who 
make  love  to  God  the  foundation  of  all  virtue  ! 
These  are  our  petitions  to  God  for  you  :  to 
these  may  each  of  us  say  Amen  ! 


SERMON   VIIL 


THE  INCOMPREHENSIBILITY  OF  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD. 


Isaiah  Iv.  8,  9. 

For  my  thoughts  are  not  yoitr  thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways  my  ways,  sailh 
the  Lord.  For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  my  ways 
higher  than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts. 


liO,  '  these  are  parts  of  his  ways,  but  how 
little  a  portion  is  heard  of  him  !'  Job  xxvi.  14. 
This  is  one  of  the  most  sententious  sayings 
of  Job,  and  it  expresses,  in  a  very  lively  and 
emphatical  manner,  the  works  of  God.  Such 
language  would  produce  but  very  little  effect 
indeed  in  the  mouth  of  a  careless,  unthinking 
man  :  but  Job,  who  uttered  it,  had  a  mind 
filled  with  the  noblest  ideas  of  the  perfections 
of  God.  He  had  studied  them  in  his  pros- 
perity, in  order  to  enable  him  to  render  ho- 
mage to  God,  from  whom  alone  his  prosperi- 
ty came.  His  heart  was  conversant  with 
them  under  his  distressing  adversities,  and  of 
them  he  had  learnt  to  bovi'  to  the  hand  of  Him 
who  was  no  less  the  author  of  adversity  than 
of  prosperity,  of  darkness  than  of  day.  All 
this  appears  by  the  fine  description  which  the 
holy  man  gives  immediately  before  :  '  God,' 
says  he,  '  stretcheth  out  the  north  over  the 
empty  place,  and  hangeth  the  earth  upon  no- 
thing. He  bindeth  up  his  waters  in  his  thick 
clouds  ;  and  the  cloud  is  not  rent  under  them. 
He  hath  compassed  the  waters  with  boimds. 
The  pillars  of  heaven  tremble,  and  are  aston- 
ished at  his  reproof  He  divideth  the  sea  with 
his  power,  and  by  his  understanding  he 
smiteth  through  the  proud.  By  his  spirit  he 
hath  garnished  the  heavens.'  But  are  those 
the  only  production  of  the  Creator  ?  Have 
these  emanations  wholly  exhausted  his  pow- 
er .'  No,  replies  Job,  '  These  are  only  parts 
of  his  ways,  and  how  little  a  portion  is  heard 
of  him  !' 

My  brethren,  what  this  holy  man  said  of 


the  wonders  of  nature,  we,  with  much 
more  reason,  say  to  you  of  the  wonders  of 
grace.  Collect  all  that  pagan  philosophers 
have  taught  of  the  goodness  of  the  Supreme 
Being.  To  the  opinions  of  philosophers  join 
the  declarations  of  the  prophets.  To  the  decla- 
rations of  the  prophets,  and  to  the  opinions 
of  philosophers,  add  the  discoveries  of  the 
evangelists  and  apostles.  Compose  one  body 
of  doctrine  of  all  that  various  authors  have 
v.'ritten  on  this  comfortable  subject.  To  the 
whole  join  3'our  own  experience  ;  your  ideas 
to  their  ideas,  your  meditations  to  their  me- 
ditations, and  then  believe  that  ye  are  only 
floating  on  the  surface  of  the  goodness  of 
God,  that  his  love  has  dimensions,  a  'breadth, 
and  length,  and  depth,  and  height,'  Eph.  iii. 
18  ;  which  the  human  mind  can  never  attain: 
and,  upon  the  brink  of  this  ocean,  say,  '  Lo, 
these  are  only  parts  of  his  ways,  and  how  lit- 
tle a  portion  is  heard  of  him  '' 

This  incomprehensibility  of  the  goodness  of 
God,  (and  what  attention,  what  sensibility, 
what  gratitude,  have  we  not  a  right  to  ex- 
pect of  you  .'')  this  inconceivableness  of  the 
goodness  of  God  we  intend  to  discuss  to-day. 
The  prophet,  or  rather  God  himself,  says  to 
us  by  the  prophet,  '  My  thoughts  are  not  your 
thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways  my  ways. 
For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth, 
so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  wayB,  and 
my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts.' 

Three  things  are  necessary  to  explain  th« 
text. 

1.  The  meaning  must  be  restrained. 


102 


THE  INCOMPREHENSIBILITY 


[Ser.  VIII 


II.  Tlie  object  must  be  determined. 

III.  The  proofs  must   be    produced.     And 
this  is  the  whole  plan  of  my  disccurse. 

I.  The  words  of  my  text  must  be  restrained. 
Strictly  speaking,  it  cannot  be  said,  that 
God's  thoughts  are  not  our  thoughts,'  and 
that  his  '  ways  are  not  our  ways :'  on  the  con- 
trary, it  is  certain,  that  in  many  respects, 
God's  '  ways  are  our  ways,  and  his  thoughts 
are  our  thoughts.'  I  mean,  that  there  are 
many  cases,  in  which  we  may  assure 
ourselves  that  God  thinks  so  and  so,  and  will 
observe  such  or  such  a  conduct.  The  doc- 
trine of  the  incomprehensibility  of  God  is 
one  of  those  doctrines  which  we  ought  to  de- 
fend with  the  greatest  zeal,  because  it  has  a 
powerful  influence  in  religion  and  morality  : 
but  it  would  become  a  subversion  of  both, 
were  it  to  be  carried  beyond  its  just  bounds. 
Libertines  have  made  fewer  proselytes  by 
denying  the  existence  of  God  than  by  abusing 
the  doctrine  of  his  inconceivableness.  It 
makes  but  little  impression  on  a  rational  man, 
to  be  told;,  that  matter  is  eternal ;  that  it  ar- 
ranged itself  in  its  present  order  ;  that  chance 
spread  the  firmament,  formed  the  heavenly 
orbs,  fixed  the  earth  on  its  basis,  and  M'rouglit 
all  the  wonders  in  the  material  world.  It 
makes  but  little  impression  on  a  rational  man, 
to  be  informed  that  the  intelligent  world  is  to 
be  attributed  to  the  same  cause  to  which 
libertines  attribute  the  material  world  :  that 
chance  formed  spirit  as  well  as  matter  ;  gave 
it  the  power,  not  only  of  reflecting  on  its 
own  essence,  but  also  of  going  out  of  itself, 
of  transporting  itself  into  the  past  ages  of 
eternity,  of  rising  into  the  heavens  by  its  me- 
ditation, of  pervading  the  eartli,  and  inves- 
tigating its  darkes't  recesses.  All  these  ex- 
travagant propositions  refute  themselves,  and 
hardly  find  one  partisan  in  such  an  enlighten- 
ed age  as  this,  in  which  we  have  the  hap- 
piness to  live. 

There  are  other  means  more  likely  to  sub- 
vert the  faith.  To  give  grand  ideas  of  the 
Supreme  Being  ;  to  plunge,  if  I  may  be  al- 
lowed to  say  so,  the  little  mind  of  man  into 
the  ocean  of  the  divine  perfections ;  to  con- 
trast the  supreme  grandeur  of  tlie  Creator 
with  the  insignificance  of  the  creature  ;  to 
persuade  mankind  that  the  Great  Supreme 
is  too  lofty  to  concern  himself  with  us,  that 
our  conduct  is  entirely  indifterent  to  him  ; 
that  it  signifies  nothing  to  him  whether  we 
be  just  or  unjust,  humane  or  cruel,  linppy  or 
miserable  :  to  say  in  tliese  senses,  that  God's 
ways  are  not  our  ways,  that  his  thoughts  are 
not  our  thoughts,  these  are  the  arms  that  in- 
fidelity has  sometimes  employed  with  success, 
and  against  the  attacks  of  which  we  would 
guard  you.  For  these  reasons,  I  said,  that 
the  meaning  of  the  text  must  be  restrained, 
or  that  it  would  totally  subvert  religion  and 
morality. 

We  have  seldom  met  with  a  proposition 
more  extravagant  tiian  that  of  a  certain 
bishop,*  who,  having  spent  his  life  in  defend- 

*  Peter  Daniel  Huet,bisliop  of  Avraiiche^,  a  country- 
man of  our  author's.  He  was  a  man  of  uncommon 
learning,  and,  in  justice  to  Chri.stianity,  as  well  as  to 
)iis  lordship,  it  ought  to  be  remembered,  that  he 
wrote  Ilia  demonstralio  erungfUra,  in  the  vigour  of 
tliilifej  but  his  fra)(e  pkilosophiquc  de  la  foiblesse  de 


ing  tlie  gospel,  endeavoured  at  his  death  to 
subvert  it.  This  man,  in  a  book  entitled, 
The  Ivtperfcrtion  of  the  Human  Mind,  and 
which  is  itself  an  example  of  the  utmost  de- 
gree of  the  extravagance  of  the  human  mind, 
maintains  this  pro])osition,  and  makes  it  the 
ground  of  all  his  skepticism:  that  before  we 
affirm  any  thing  of  a  subject  we  must  per- 
fectlv  understand  it.  From  hence  he  con- 
cludes, that  we  can  afRrm  nothing  of  any  sub- 
ject, because  we  do  not  perfectly  understand 
any.  And  from  hence  it  naturally  follows, 
that  of  the  Supreme  Being  we  have  the  least 
pretence  to  affirm  any  thing,  because  we 
have  a  less  perfect  knowledge  of  him  than  of 
any  other  subject.  What  absurd  reasoning  ! 
It  is  needless  to  refute  it  here,  and  it  shall 
suffice  at  present  to  observe  in  general,  the 
ignorance  of  one  part  of  a  subject  does  not 
hinder  the  knowing  of  other  parts  of  it,  nor 
ought  it  to  hmder  our  affirmation  of  what  we 
do  know.  I  do  not  perfectly  understand  the 
nature  of  light;  however  I  do  know  that  it 
differs  from  darkness,  and  that  it  is  the  me- 
dium by  wJiich  objects  become  visible  to  me. 
And  the  same  may  be  affirmed  of  other  sub- 
jects. 

In  like  manner,  the  exercise  of  my  reason- 
ing powers,  jjroduces  in  me  some  incontesta- 
ble notions  of  God  ;  and,  from  these  notions, 
inmjediately  follow  some  sure  consequences, 
which  become  the  immoveable  bases  of  my 
faith  in  his  word,  of  my  submission  to  his 
will,  and  of  my  confidence  in  his  promises. 
These  notions,  and  these  consequences,  com- 
pose the  body  of  natural  religion.  There  is  a 
self-existent  Being.  The  existence  all  crea- 
tures is  derived  from  the  self-existent  Being, 
and  he  is  the  only  source  of  all  their  perfec- 
tions. That  Being,  who  is  the  source  of  the 
perfections  of  all  other  beings,  is  more  pow- 
erful than  the  most  powerful  monarchs, 
because  the  most  powerful  monarchs  derive 
only  a  finite  power  from  him.  He  is  wiser 
than  the  most  consummate  politicians,  be- 
cause the  most  consummate  politicians  derive 
only  a  finite  wisdom  from  him.  His  know- 
ledge exceeds  that  of  the  ir.ost  transcendant 
geniuses,  because  the  most  transcendant  ge- 
niuses and  the  most  knowing  philosophers  de- 
rive only  a  finite  knowledge  from  him.  And 
the  same  ma}^  be  said  of  others.  There  are 
then  some  incontestable  notions,  which  rea- 
son gives  us  of  God. 

From  tliese  notions  follow  some  sure  gnd 
necessary  consequences.  If  all  creatures  de- 
rive their  being  and  preservation  from  Jiim, 
I  owe  to  him  all  that  I  am,  and  all  that  I  have, 
he  is  the  sole  object  of  my  desires  and  hopes, 
and  I  am  necessarily  engaged  to  be  grateful 
for  his  favours,  and  entirely  submissive  to  bis 
will.  If  creature-perfections  be  only  emana- 
tions from  him,  the  source  of  all  perfections, 
I  ought  to  have  nobler  sentiments  of  his  per- 
fections, than  of  those  of  creatures,  how  ele- 
vated soever  the  latter  may  be.  I  ought  to 
fear  him  more  than  I  ought  to  fear  the  mighti- 

Pespril  liumainf,  of  which  Mons.  ?aurin  complains, 
was  written  more  than  forty  years  after,  wlien  he 
was  ninety  year.s  of  age,  and  was  superannuated. 
Father  Castell,  the  Jesuit,  denies  tliat  il  was  written 
by  Huet  at  all. 


ser.  vm.] 


OF  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD. 


103 


est  king,  because  the  power  of  the  mightiest 
king  is  only  an  emanation  of  his.  I  ought  to 
commit  myself  to  his  direction,  and  to  trust 
more  to  his  wisdom  than  to  that  of  the  wisest 
pcflitician,  because  the  prudence  of  the  wisest 
politician  is  only  an  emanation  of  his  :  and  so 
of  the  rest.  Let  it  be  granted,  that  God  is, 
in  many  respects,  quite  incomprehensible, 
that  we  can  attain  only  a  small  degree  of 
knowledge  of  this  infinite  object,  or,  to  use 
the  words  of  our  text,  that  '  his  thoughts  are 
not  our  thoughts,  nor  his  ways  our  ways :'  yet 
it  will  not  follow,  that  the  notions,  which  rea- 
son gives  us  of  him,  are  less  just,  or,  that  the 
consequences,  which  immediatelj' follow  these 
notions,  are  less  sure ;  or,  that  all  the  objec- 
tions, which  libertines  and  skeptics  pretend 
to  derive  from  the  doctrine  of  the  incompre- 
hensibility of  God,  against  natural  religion, 
do  not  evaporate  and  disappear. 

If  reason  affords  some  adequate  notions  of 
God,  if  some  necessary  consequences  follow 
these  notions,  for  a  much  stronger  reason, 
we  may  derive  some  adequate  notions  of  God 
and  some  sure  consequences  from  revelation. 
It  is  a  very  extravagant  and  so])Iiistical  way 
of  reasoning  to  allege  the  darkness  of  revela- 
tion upon  this  subject,  in  order  to  obscure  the 
lig'ht  that  it  does  afford  us.  These  words, 
'  my  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,  neitlier 
are  my  ways  your  ways,'  do  not  mean,  then, 
that  we  can  know  nothing  of  the  divine  es- 
sence ;  that  we  cannot  certainly  discover  in 
what  cases  he  will  approve  of  our  conduct, 
and  in  what  cases  he  will  condemn  it;  they 
only  mean,  that  infinite  minds  cannot  form 
complete  ideas  of  God,  know  the  whole  sphere 
of  his  attributes,  or  certainly  foresee  all  the 
effects  that  they  can  produce.  Thus  we  have 
endeavoured  to  restrain  the  words  of  the  text. 

II.  We  are  to  determine  their  object.  The 
prophet's  expressions  would  have  been  true, 
had  they  been  applied  to  all  the  attributes  of 
God  :  however,  they  are  applied  here  only  to 
one  of  them,  that  is,  to  his  goodness.  The 
connexion  of  the  text  with  the  preceding- 
verses  proves  this.  '  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while 
he  may  be  found,  call  ye  upon  him  while  he 
is  near.  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and 
the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts:  and  let 
him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  will  have 
mercy  upon  him  ;  and  to  our  God,  for  he  will 
abundantly  pardon,'  ver,  G,  7.  The  text  im- 
mediately follows  :  '  For  my  thoughts  are  not 
your  thf)Ughts,  neither  are  your  ways  my 
ways,  saith  the  Lord.'  It  is  clear,  I  think,  that 
the  last  words,  '  my  thoughts  are  not  your 
thouglits,  neither  are  your  ways  my  ways,' 
directly  relate  to  the  preceding  clause,  'the 
Lord  will  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  oiu-  God 
will  abundantly  pardon.'  Wherein  do  the 
thoughts  of  God  differ  from  ours  ?  In  this 
sense  they  differ  :  in  God  there  are  treasures 
of  mercy,  the  depth  5f  which  no  finite  miud 
can  fathom.  In  liim  goodness  is  as  incon- 
ceivable as  all  his  other  attributes.  In  God, 
a  sinner,  v.^ho  seems  to  have  carried  his  sin 
to  its  utmost  extravagance,  and  to  have  ex- 
hausted alt  the  treasures  of  divine  grace,  shall 
still  find,  if  he  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  cast 
himself  at  the  foot  of  him,  who  abundanthj 
pardoacih,  a  goodness,  a  compassion,  a  love, 
that  he  could  not  have  imatrined  to  find. 


When  we  speak  of  the  goodness  of  God, 
we  mean,  not  only  that  perfection  which  in- 
clines him  to  communicate  natural  benefits  to 
all  creatures,  and  which  has  occasioned  the 
inspired  writers  to  say,  that  '  All  creatures 
wait  upon  him,  that  he  may  give  them  their 
meat  in  due  season,'  Ps.  civ.  27  ;  that  he  left 
not  himself  without  witness  in  doing  good,' 
Acts  xiv.  17.  But  we  mean,  in  a  more  espe- 
cial manner,  the  grace  of  the  gospel,  of  which 
the  prophet  speaks  in  the  beginning  of  the 
chapter  ;  '  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come 
ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that  hath  no  money 
come  ye  buy  and  eat ;  yea,  come  buy  wine 
and  milk  without  money,  and  without  price. 
Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto  me  :  hear, 
and  3'our  soul  shall  live  :  and  I  will  make  an 
everlasting  covenant  with  you,  even  the  sure 
mercies  of  David.  Behold  I  have  given  him 
for  a  witness  to  the  people,  a  leader  and  com- 
mander of  the  people.'  ver.  1 — 4.  Who  is  this 
leader  whom  God  gave  to  be  a  witness  to  the 
people,  that  is,  to  manifest  his  attributes  to 
the  Gentiles.'  What  is  this  everlasting  cove- 
nant ?  What  are  these  sure  mercies  of 
David?  Two  sorts  of  authors  deserve  to  be 
heard  on  this  article,  though  on  different  ac- 
counts ;  the  first  for  their  ignorance  and  pre- 
judice; the  last  for  their  knowledge  and  im- 
partiality. The  first  are  the  Jews,  who  in 
spite  of  their  obstinate  blindness,  cannot  help 
owning  that  these  words  promise  the  advent 
of  the  Messiah-  Rabbi  David  Kimchi  gives 
this  exposition  of  the  words  :  '  The  sure  mer- 
cies of  David,  that  is  the  Messiah,  whom 
Ezekiel  calls  David.  They  shall  dwell  in  the 
land  that  I  have  given  them,  they,  and  their 
children,  and  their  children's  children,  for 
ever  ;  and  my  servant  David  shall  be  their 
prince  for  ever,'  Ezek.  xxxvii.  25  ;  I  purpose- 
ly pass  by  many  similar  passages  of  other 
Jewish  Rabbins.  The  other  authors  whom 
we  ought  to  hear  for  their  impartial  know- 
ledge, are  the  inspired  writers,  and  particu- 
larly St.  Paul,  whose  comment  on  this  pas- 
sage, which  he  gave  at  Antioch  in  Pisidia, 
determines  its  meaning.  There  the  apostle 
having  attested  the  truth  of  the  resurrection 
of  Jesus  Christ,  aiiirms  that  the  prophets  had 
foretold  that  event ;  and  among  other  pas- 
sages, which  he  alleged  in  proof  of  what  he 
had  advanced,  quotes  this,  '  I  will  give  you 
the  sure  mercies  of  David,'  Acts.  xiii.  34. 
From  all  which  it  follows,  that  the  object  of 
our  text  is  the  goodness  of  God,  and  in  an 
especial  manner,  the  love  that  he  has  mani- 
fested unto  us  in  the  gospel :  and  this  is  what 
we  undertook  to  prove. 

Such  views  of  the  grandeurs  of  God  are 
sublime  and  delightful.  Tlie  divine  perfec- 
tions are  the  most  sublime  objects  of  medita- 
tion. It  is  glorious  to  surmount  the  little  cir- 
cle of  objects  that  surround  us,  to  revolve  in 
a  contemplation  of  God,  in  whose  infinite 
perfections  intelligent  beings  will  for  ever 
find  matter  sufficient  to  employ  all  tlieir  intel- 
ligence. Behold  the  inspired  writers,  they 
were  fond  of  losing  their  capacities  in  this 
lovely  prospect.  Sometimes  they  stood  on 
the  borders  of  the  eternity  of  God,  and  view- 
ing that  boundless  ocean,  exclaimed,  '  Before 
the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever 
thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world  ; 


104 


THE  INCOMPREHENSIBILITY 


[Ser.  VIII. 


even  from  everlasting  to  everlasting  thou  art 
God.  A  thousand  years  in  thy  sight  are  but 
as  yesterday  when  it  is  past,  and  as  a  watcli 
in  the  night,'  Ps.  xc.  2.  4.  Sometimes  ti;ey 
meditated  on  his  power,  and  contemplating 
the  number  and  variety  of  its  works,  exclaim- 
ed, '  O  Lord,  our  Lord,  how  excellent  is  thy 
name  in  all  the  earth  I  who  hast  set  thy  glory 
above  the  heavens.  When  we  consider  thy 
heavens,  the  work  of  thy  fingers  ;  the  moon 
and  the  stars  which  thou  hast  ordained  ;  What 
is  man,  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him  .-'  and  the 
son  of  man,  that  thou  visitest  him  .''  Ps.  viii. 
1.  3,  4.  Sometimes  their  attention  was  fixed 
on  the  immensity  of  God,  and  contemplating 
it,  they  exclaimed,  '  Whither  shall  we  go 
from  thy  spirit .''  or  whither  shall  we  flee  from 
thy  presence  ?  If  we  ascend  up  into  heaven, 
thou  art  there,  if  we  make  our  bed  in  hell,  be- 
hold thou  art  there  ;  if  we  take  the  wings  of 
the  morning,  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts 
of  the  sea  ;  even  there  shall  thy  hand  lead  us, 
and  thy  right  hand  shall  hold  us,'  Ps.  cxxxix. 
7 — 10.  But,  however  agreeable  these  objects 
of  meditation  may  be,  there  is  something  mor- 
tifying and  distressing  in  tiiem.  The  more 
we  discover  the  grandeur  of  the  Supreme  Be- 
ing, the  greater  distance  we  perceive  between 
ourselves  and  him.  We  perceive  him  indeed  : 
but  it  is  as  an  inhabitant  of  '  light  which  no 
man  can  approach  unto,'  1  Tim.  iv.  IG  ;  and 
from  all  our  efforts  to  know  him  we  derive 
this  reflection  of  the  prophet,  '  Such  know- 
ledge is  too  wonderful  for  me:  it  is  high;  I 
cannot  attain  unto  it,'  Ps.  cxxxix.  6. 

But  the  meditation  of  the  goodness  of  God 
is  as  full  of  consolation  as  it  is  of  sublimit}'. 
This  ocean  of  the  Deity  is  an  ocean  of  love. 
These  dimensions  that  surpass  your  know- 
ledge, are  dimensions  of  love.  These  distan- 
ces, a  part  only  of  which  are  visible  to  you, 
are  depths  of  mercy,  and  those  words  which 
God  has  addressed  to  you,  '  my  thoughts  are 
not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  your  waj's  my 
ways,'  are  equal  to  these  :  As  far  as  heaven 
is  above  the  earth;  or  more  fully,  as  far  as  ye 
finite  creatures  are  inferior  to  me  the  infinite 
God,  so  far  are  your  ideas  of  my  compassion 
and  love  to  you  inferior  to  my  pity  and  esteem 
for  you  :  Try:  '  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his 
way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts  ;' 
let  not  the  multitude  or  the  enormity  of  his 
crimes  terrify  him  into  a  despair  of  obtaining 
the  pardon  of  them :  '  Let  him  return  unto 
the  Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him  ; 
and  to  our  God,  for  he  will  abundantly  par- 
don. For  my  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts, 
neither  are  your  ways  my  ways,  saith"  the 
Lord.  For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than 
the  earth,  so  are  my  ways  higher  tlian  your 
ways,  and  my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts.' 
Having  thus  determined  the  object  and  re- 
strained the  meaning  of  the  text,  we  shall 
proceed  to  adduce  the  proofs. 

III.  The  prophet  addresses  himself  to  two 
sorts  of  people  ;  first,  to  the  heathens,  who 
knew  no  more  of  the  goodness  of  God  than 
what  they  had  discovered  by  the  glimmerino- 
light  of  nature  :  next,  to  some  Jews,  or  to  some 
Christians,  who,  indeed,  knew  it  by  the  light 
of  revelation,  but  who  had  not  so  liigh  a 
notion  of  it  as  to  believe  it  sufficient  to^par- 
don  all  their  sins.    To  both  he  says  on  the 


part  of  God ;  '  My  thoughts  arc  not  your 
thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways  my  ways.' 
'  My  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,'  ye 
gentile  philosophers.  Ye  know  my  goodness 
only  by  your  speculations  on  the  nature  of  the 
Supreme  Being  ;  but  all  that  ye  discover  in 
this  way,  is  nothing  in  comparison  of  what 
the  Messiah  will  teach  you  in  the  gospel. 
'  My  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,'  ye 
timorous  consciences,  ye  gloomy  and  melan- 
choly minds.  Behold,  I  yet  open  to  you 
treasures  of  mercy,  which  ye  thought  ye  had 
exhausted :  '  My  thoughts  are  not  your 
thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways  my  ways : 
For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth, 
so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and 
my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts.' 

First,  "The  prophet  addresses  heathens,  who 
had  no  other  knowledge  of  God  than  a  few 
speculations  on  the  nature  of  the  First  Being  ; 
and  who  were  never  able  to  discover  three 
mysteries  of  divine  love. 

1.  The  mean  by  which  God  conciliated  his 
justice  witli  his  love. 

2.  His  patience  with  those  who  abuse  this 
mean. 

3.  His  intimate  union  with  those  who  fall 
in  with  the  design  of  his  patience. 

1.  The  first  mystery  of  love,  which  the 
wisest  pagan  philosophers  could  never  discov- 
er, is  the  mean  that  God  has  chosen  to  cx)ncili- 
ate  his  justice  with  his  love. 

Let  us  carefully  avoid  the  forming  of  mean 
notions  of  God  ;  let  us  not  imagine  that  the 
attributes  of  God  clash:  No,  God  is  perfectly 
consistent  with  himself,  and  his  attributes 
mutually  support  each  other.  When  we  say 
that  the  love  of  God  resisted  his  justice,  w© 
mean  that,  according  to  our  way  of  thinking, 
there  were  some  inconveniences  in  determi- 
ning the  fate  of  mankind  after  the  entrance 
of  sin.  In  effect,  what  must  become  of  this 
race  of  rebels  ?  Shall  God  execute  that  sen- 
tence on  Ihem,  which  he  has  pronounced 
against  sin  .•'  But  chains  of  darkness,  a  lake 
burning  with  fire  and  brimstone,  weeping  and 
wailing  thrcugh  an  endless  eternity,  excite 
the  compassion  of  a  merciful  God:  shall  he 
then  allow  these  unworthy  creatures  to  live 
under  his  protection.''  Shall  so  many  idle 
words,  so  many  criminal  thoughts,  so  many 
iniquitous  actions,  so  mucli  blasphemy,  so 
many  extortions,  the  sliedding  of  so  much  in- 
nocent blood,  shall  all  these  go  unpunished  .' 
But,  were  these  allowed,  his  love  of  order  and 
iiis  veracity  would  be  blemished.  These  are 
difficulties  which  all  the  universe  could  not 
solve.  This  is  the  book,  of  which  St.  John 
speaks  in  his  revelation,  the  book  '  sealed  with 
seven  seals  ;  I  wept  much,'  sa3's  St.  John, 
'  because  no  man  v^'as  found  worthy  to  open 
and  to  read  the  book:  but  worthy  is  the  Lamb 
to  take  the  book,  and  to  open  the  seals,'  Rev. 
v.  4.  P. 

From  the  depth  of  divine  mercy  proceeds  a 
plan  for  the  solution  of  all  these  difllculties. 
The  Son  of  God  clothes  himself  with  mortal 
flesh.  He  says,  from  his  infancy,  '  In  sacri- 
fices for  sin  thou  liast  no  pleasure  I'  Heb.  x.  6. 
No,  neither  '  burnt-offerings  nor  thousands  of 
rams;  neither  nllars  overflowing  with  blood, 
nor  ten  thousands  of  rivers  of  oil  ;  neither  the 
first-born  for  the  transgression,  nor  all   the 


Ser.  VIII.] 


OF  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD. 


105 


fruit  of  the  body  for  the  sin  of  the  soul,'  Mi- 
cahvi.  6,  7;  no^  none  of  these  is  an  offering 
worthy  of  being  presented  to  thy  justice  :  '  Lo, 
I  come  to  do  thy  will,  O  God,'  Heb.  x.  7.  Lo, 
I  come  to  do  that  will  which  requires  the  pun- 
ishment of  sin  and  the  salvation  of  the  sinner. 
Lo,  I  come  to  be  led  '  as  a  Iamb  to  the  slaugh- 
ter,' and  to  be  '  dumb  as  a  sheep  before  her 
shearers.'  Lo,  I  am  coming  to  suffer  the 
very  men  for  whose  salvation  I  come,  to  treat 
me  as  a  malefactor  ;  yea,  moreover,  I  am  com- 
ing to  suffer  the  hidings  of  that  adorable  face, 
which  has  always  hitherto  afforded  me  a  '  ful- 
ness of  joy,'  Ps.  xvi.  11.  I  am  coming  to  suf- 
fer a  suspension  of  that  love,  which  is  all  my 
delight,  and  to  cry  under  excessive  sorrows, 
'  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken 
me  I'  Matt,  xxvii.  46.  We  must  necessarily 
sink  under  the  weight  of  this  subject,  my 
brethren,  and  we  must  be  content  to  see  only 
'parts  of  the  ways'  of  love.  We  must  deter- 
mine only  to  take  a  slight  survey  of  '  the 
breadth  and  length,  and  depth  and  height,  of 
the  love  of  God  ;'  we  must  own  that  it  passetli 
knowledge,'  Eph.  iii.  IS,  19.  and  that  these  are 
things  which  'eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear 
heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man,'  I  Cor.  ii.  9.  We  must  confess  that  if 
we  were  not  able  to  give  this  general  answer 
to  the  objections  that  are  made  against  the 
mysteries  of  religion,  that  is,  that  the  attri- 
butes of  God  are  infinite,  and  that  it  does  not 
belong  to  such  finite  minds  as  ours  to  limit 
the  infinite  God,  we  should  be  overwhelmed 
with  the  difficulties  to  which  the  marvels  of 
redemption  are  liable  to  be  exposed.  Let  us 
rejoice  in  the  prospect  of  that  happy  period, 
in  which  our  faculties  will  be  expanded,  and 
in  which  we  shall  make  a  more  rapid  progress 
in  the  study  of  the  love  of  God.  In  the  pre- 
sent period  of  infirmities  let  us  be  content 
with  the  solution  in  our  text ;  'My  thoughts 
are  not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways 
my  ways,  saith  the  Lord.  For  as  the  heavens 
are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  my  ways 
higher  than  your  ways,  and  niy  thoughts  than 
your  thoughts.' 

2  But  in  what  mannethave  these  miserable 
sinners  (and  tliis  will  explain  the  second  mys- 
tery of  love,  which  reason  could  never  have 
discovered,)  in  what  manner  have  these  mis- 
erable sinners,  v/hom  the  justice  of  God 
condemns  to  eternal  torments,  received  the 
declaration  of  their  pardon  .'  With  what  eyes 
have  tliey  considered  tlie  miracle  of  an  incar- 
nate God .'  How  have  they  regarded  that 
altar,  on  wliich  such  a  noble  victim  was  sac- 
rificed for  tlieir  salvation  .'  Have  their  eyes 
been  fountains  of  tears,  to  lament  the  crimes 
that  brought  down  such  a  deluge  of  punish- 
ments U[)on  the  head  of  t!ie  Redeemer  of 
mankind  ?  Have  they  received  the  Redeemer 
with  such  tenderness  and  gratitude  as  the 
wonders  of  his  love  required .'  No  :  The  unbe- 
lieving synagogue,  the  Jews,  or,  to  pass  the 
Jews,  Christians,  we,  my  brethren,  who  pro- 
fess to  believe  the  mystery  of  the  cross  :  we, 
who  every  day  say,  '  We  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ,  who  was  born  of  the  virgin  Mary, 
who  was  crucified,  dead,  and  buried  ;'  we  can 
hear  of  those  great  mysteries  with  indiffer- 
ence ;  we  can  persist  in  the  very  sins  that 
brought  our  Redeemer  to  the  cross  ;  we  can 


refuse  to  give  up  a  few  inches  of  earth,  a 
small  sum  of  money,  the  playing  of  an  idle 
game,  or  the  gratifying  of  an  absurd  passion, 
to  him  who  sacrificed  for  us  his  person  and  his 
life  ;  we  can  '  do  despite  unto  the  Spirit  of 
grace,  and  count  the  blood  of  the  covenant  an 
unholy  thing,'  Heb.  x.  9.  God  is  witness  of 
all  these  things  ;  God  holds  the  thunders  in 
his  mighty  hands ;  wars,  and  plagues,  and 
earthquakes,  wait  only  for  the  first  signal  of 
his  will  to  avenge  those  numerous  indignities  : 
yet  God,  who  beholds  those  indignities,  bears 
with  them.  This  man,  says  the  love  of  God, 
is  precipitated  by  the  heat  and  vigour  of  youth, 
perhaps  he  may  reflect  when  he  arrives  at 
the  tranquillity  of  mature  age ;  he  shall  be 
spared  then  till  he  arrives  at  maturity :  or, 
perhaps  he  may  recollect  himself  in  the  cool- 
ness of  old  age,  he  shall  be  spared  then  till  the 
grave  coolness  of  old  age  comes.  That  man 
has  been  a  rebel  in  his  health,  perhaps  he  may 
submit  when  he  is  sick,  he  shall  be  spared  till 
sickness  comes  ;  and  he  shall  be  sought,  ex- 
horted, conjured  ;  I  will  say  to  him,  '  O  that 
thou  hadst  hearkened  unto  me  !'  Ps.  Ixxxi.  13. 
'  Be  thou  instructed,  lest  my  soul  depart 
from  thee  !'  Jer.  vi.  8.  '  O  thou  who  killest  the 
prophets,  and  stonest  them  which  are  sent 
unto  thee,  how  often  would  I  have  gathered 
thee,  even  as  a  hen  gathers  her  chickens  uu 
der  her  wings,  and  thou  wouldest  not !  Matt, 
xxxiii.  37.  And  it  is  the  great  God,  who  speaks 
in  this  manner  to  his  ungrateful  creature,  who 
is  insensible  to  such  tender  language  ! 

3.  The  third  mystery  of  love  which  the  wi- 
sest philosophers  could.never  have  discovered, 
is  the  union  that  God  forms  with  man  in  reli- 
gion. What  tender  relation  cansl  thou  ima- 
gine, which  God  has  not  determined  to  form 
with  thee  in  religion  ?  Art  thou  sensible  to  t!ie 
vigilance  of  a  sliepherd  .'  '  The  Lord  is  thy 
shepherd,  thou  shalt  not  want,'  Ps.  xxiii.  ]. 
Art  tliou  sensible  to  the  confidence  of  a  friend  ? 
'  I  call  thee  not  a  servant  but  a  friend,'  John 
XV.  15.  Art  thou  sensible  to  the  tenderness  of 
a  parent .'  '  Behold  wl:at. manner  of  love  the 
Father  hath  bestowed  upon  thee,  that  thou 
shouldest  be  called  a  son  of  God  !'  1  John  iii. 
1.  I  should  allege  many  oth^r  images  of  the 
love  of  God  to  believers,  if  I  could  flatter 
myself,  that  tlie  imaginations  of  my  hearer.^ 
would  be  as  pure  as  those  of  the  sacred  authors 
who  have  described  them. 

Art  thou  disgusted  with  human  connex- 
ions.'' Are  thine  ideas  of  friondsliip  so  refined 
tJiat  tliey  render  thee  superior  to  human 
unions,  and  make  thee  wish  for  a  friendship 
formed  on  a  nobler  plan  .'  God  has  determined 
tiiat  thou  shalt  be  united  to  him  as  Jesus 
Christ  and  he  are  vmiteil :  a  union  at  present 
inconceivable,  but  wliich  we  shall  happily  ex- 
perience in  the  enlarged  sphere  of  an  immor- 
tal life,  John  xvii.  20.  21.  Let  us  acknow- 
ledge then,  that  all  tlie  penetration  of  the 
wisest  philosophers,  could  never  have  discov- 
ered the  extent  of  the  love  ol'Ciod  in  the  dis- 
pensation of  the  gospel.  '  My  thoughts  are 
not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways  my 
ways,  saith  the  Lord.  For  as  the  heavens 
are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  my  ways 
higher  than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts  than 
your  thoughts.' 

Secondly,   Let  us  address  the  text  to  the 


106 


THE  INCOMPREHENSIBILITY 


[Ser.  vin. 


gloomy  mind  of  a  melanclioly  person,  who, 
having  failed  in  the  courage  necessary  to  re- 
sist temptations,  fails  again  in  that  which  is 
necessary  to  bear  the  thought  of  having  fal- 
len into  them.  But,  before  we  oppose  or  de- 
sscribe  this  weakness,  let  us  grant  that  there  is 
something  in  it  which  deserves  respect.  The 
greatest  part  of  those  who  treat  it  as  an  ex- 
travagance, seem  to  nie  far  more  extravagant 
than  those  who  fall  into  it.  Yes,  the  utmost 
excess  of  grief  that  can  be  occasioned  by  the 
remembrance  of  sin,  seems  to  me  incompara- 
bly less  blameable  tlian  the  excessive  tran- 
quillity of  some  otlier  people's  minds.  Who 
(think  you),  is  most  extravagant,  he  who  is 
too  much  affected  with  the  enormity  of  his 
sins,  or  he  who  is  not  affected  enough  .-'  Is  it 
he  who,  notwithstanding  his  sorrows  and  re- 
grets, dares  not  venture  to  believe  himself  an 
object  of  divine  compassion  ;  or  he  who,  hav- 
ing no  contrition,  nor  shedding  any  tears  of 
repentance,  presumes  on  that  compassion  .■" 
Is  it  he,  whom  the  bare  probability  of  being 
punished  for  his  sins,  of  being  eternally  laden 
with  '  chains  of  darkness,' of  being  an  eternal 
prey  to  '  the  worm  that  never  dieth,'  2  Pet.  ii. 
4  ;  and  of  becoming  fuel  for  that  '  fire  which 
shall  never  be  quenched,' Mark  ix.  44,  45: 
deprives  of  his  rest,  of  a  relish  for  the  sweets 
of  society,  and  of  all  inclination  to  enjoy  the 
most  insinuating  pleasures ;  or,  is  it  he  who, 
in  spite  of  so  many  reasons  to  fear  his  danger- 
ous state,  eats,  drinks,  diverts  himself,  runs 
from  company  to  company,  from  circle  to  cir- 
cle, and  employs  the  moments,  that  are  given 
him  to  avoid  his  miseries,  in  inventing  the  most 
effectual  means  of  forgetting  them  ?  I  repeat 
it  again,  a  melancholy,  that  is  occasioned  by 
the  remembrance  of  sin,  has  something  re- 
spectable in  it,  and  the  greatest  part  of  those 
who  treat  it  altogether  as  an  absurdity,  are 
more  absurd  than  those  who  fall  into  it. 

I  intend,  however,  in  this  part  of  my  dis- 
course, to  oppose  this  melancholy  gloom. 
And  thanks  be  to  those  divine  mercies,  the 
grandeurs  of  which  I  am  this  day  commend- 
ing, for  furnisliing  me  with  so  many  means  of 
opposing  tliis  disposition,  independently  of 
the  words  of  my  text.  What  a  multitude  of 
reflections  present  themselves  beside  those 
which  arise  from  the  subject  in  hand ! 

What  madness  possesses  thy  melancholy 
mind  ?  The  Holy  Spirit  assures  thee,  that 
'  though  thy  sins  be  as  scarlet,'  he  will  make 
them  '  as  white  as  snow ;'  that  '  though  they 
be  as  red  as  crimson,'  he  will  make  them  '  as 
white  as  wool,'  Isa.  i.  19 ;  and  dost  thou  think 
that  thy  sins  are  too  aggravated  to  be  pardon- 
ed in  tliis  manner  .' 

The  Holy  Spirit  gives  thee  a  long  list  of  the 
most  execrable  names  in  nature ;  a  list  of 
idolaters,  murderers,  extortioners,  adulterers, 
j)ersecutors,  highway  robbers,  and  blas])he- 
mers,  who  obtained  mercy  wlien  they  desired 
and  sought  it :  and  art  thou  obstinately  bent 
on  excluding  thyself  from  the  number  of  those 
sinners,  to  whom  mercy  is  promised  ;  and, 
because  thou  dost  not  believe  it  attainable, 
dost  thou  obstinately  refuse  to  ask  for  it .'' 

The  Holy  Spirit  has  lifted  up  'an  ensign 
for  the  nations,'  Isa.  xi.  12;  or,  to  speak  with- 
out a  figure,  the  Holy  Ghost  has  lifted  up  a 
cross,  and  on  that  cross  a  Redeemer,  who  is 


'  able  to  save  them   to  the    uttermost   that 
come  unto  God  by  him,'  Heb.  vii.  25;    and      ^ 
who  himself  says  to  all  sinners,  'Come  unto      ^ 
me,  all  ye  that  labour,  and  are  heavy  laden,  I        * 
will  give  you  rest,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto 
your  souls,'  Matt.  xi.  28,  2!).     And  dost  thou 
flee  from  this  cross,  and  rather  choose  to  sink 
under  the  weight  of  thy  sins  than  to  disbur- 
den them  on  a  Redeemer,  who  is  willing  to 
bear  them  ? 

But  passing  all  these,  let  us  return  to  the 
text.  '  My  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts, 
neither  are  your  ways  my  ways,  saith  the 
Lord.  For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than 
the  earth,  so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your 
ways,  and  my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts.' 
This  is  sufficient  to  refute,  this  is  enough  to 
subvert,  and  to  destroy,  the  whole  system  of  a 
despairing  mind.  The  perfections  of  God  are 
infinite  :  By  what  rule  then  dost  thou  pretend 
to  '  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,'  Ps.  Ixxviii. 
4L  '  Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God  .-" 
Job.  xi.  7.  Canst  thou  find  out  the  eternity  of 
him,  with  whom '  a  tiiousand  years  are  as  one 
day,  and  one  day  as  a  thousand  years,'  2  Pet. 
iii.  8.  Canst  thou  find  out  the  extent  of  his 
vi^isdom  ;  a  wisdom  that  first  invented,  then 
created  ;  that  governs  now,  and  will  for  ever 
govern,  both  the  material  and  intelligent 
worlds  .''  Behold,  his  understanding  is  infinite,' 
Ps.  cxlvii.  5.  Canst  thou  find  out  the  power 
of  him  who  '  weighed  the  mountains  in  scales, 
and  the  hills  in  a  balance,'  Isa.  xl.  12;  who 
'  taketh  up  the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing,' 
ver.  15. 

The  mercy  of  God  is  no  less  inconceivable 
than  the  rest  of  his  attributes.  The  nature 
of  the  thing  proves  it ;  reason  declares  it ; 
revelation  places  it  in  the  clearest  light ;  ex- 
perience confirms  it ;  and  of  his  mercy  God 
says  in  the  text,  '  My  thoughts  are  not  your 
thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways  my  ways. 
For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth, 
so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and 
my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts.' 

Your  thoughts  have  formed  a  gloomy  sys- 
tem, and  ye  thinic  that  God  can  pardon  a  first, 
or  a  second,  or  perhaps  a  third,  sin  ;  but  ye 
cannot  believe  that  he  can  forgive  the  Imn- 
dredth,  or  even  the  fortieth  ofl'ence  :  but 
God's  thoughts  are,  that  he  can  uhmidanthj 
pardon;  that  he  can  forgive  the  hundredth 
offence,  yea  the  thousandth  and  the  ten  thou- 
sandth, as  well  as  the  first  and  the  second,  if 
ye  be  sincerely  willing  to  renounce  them, 
and  seriously  endeavour  to  reform  them. 

Ye  think,  agreeably  to  )'our  gloomy  system, 
that  God  does  indeed  pardon  some  crimes, 
but  that  there  are  some  which  lie  will  not  par- 
don ;  that  he  sometimes  pardons  hatred,  but 
that  he  will  never  forgive  murder;  that  he  some- 
times pardons  sins  of  infirmity,  but  tlmt  he  will 
never  forgive  sins  of  obstinacy;  thathc  par- 
dons idle  words,  but  that  he  will  never  forgive 
blasphemies:  but  God's  thoughts  are  that  he 
will  uhundanthjpardoii  ;  that  he  will  pardon 
murder  as  well  as  hatred  ;  and  sins  of  obsti- 
nacy as  well  as  sins  of  infirmity  ;  provided  ye 
be  sincerely  willing  to  renounce  them,  and 
seriously  endeavour  to  reform  them. 

Ye  think,  consistently  with  your  melancholy 
system,  that  God  may  perhaps  pardon  the 
sins  of  a  few  days,  or  of  a  few  months,  or  of  a 


Ser.  VIIL] 


OF  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD. 


107 


few  years ;  but  that  he  cannot  forgive  the 
sins  of  ten,  or  twenty  years,  or  of  a  whole  life  : 
but  God  thinks  that  he  can  ahundnntly  par- 
don; that  he  can  forgive  the  sins  often  years, 
or  of  twenty,  or  of  a  whole  life,  as  well  as  the 
sins  of  one  day,  or  of  one  month,  or  of  one 
year  ;  if  ye  be  sincerely  willing  to  renounce 
them,  and  seriously  endeavour  to  reform  them. 

Your  thoughts  are  that  God  pardons  the 
sins  of  those  whom  he  has  not  called  into 
church-fellowship,  nor  distinguished  by  par- 
ticular favours  :  but  the  thoughts  of  God  are 
that  he  will  abundantly  pardon  ;  that  he  will 
forgive  sins  committed  under  the  Mosaic  dis- 
pensation as  well  as  those  that  have  been 
committed  under  the  dispensation  of  nature  ; 
those  that  have  been  committed  under  the 
gospel  as  well  as  those  that  have  been  com- 
mitted under  the  law,  or  before  the  law ;  if 
ye  be  sincerely  willing  to  renounce,  and  seri- 
ously endeavour  to  reform  them.  It  is  not  I, 
it  is  the  prophet,  it  is  God  himself,  by  the 
prophet,  who  attests  these  truths  :  '  Seek  ye 
the  Lord  while  he  may  be  found,  call  ye  upon 
liim  while  he  is  near.  Let  the  wicked  for- 
sake iiis  WAY,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his 
thoughts ,  and  let  him  return  unto  the 
Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him  ;  and 
to  our  God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon. 
For  '  my  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,  nei- 
ther are  your  ways  my  ways,  saith  the  Lord. 
For  as  the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth, 
so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and  my 
thoughts  than  your  thoughts.' 

If  ye  sincerely /orsa/ic,  and  seriously  re- 
form  them.  Have  ye  not  been  surprised  at 
the  frequent  repetition  of  this  clause  ?  This 
clause,  however,  is  the  ground  of  all  the  prom- 
ises, that  we  make  to  you  on  God's  part. 

The  chief  design  of  the  prophet  is  to  pro- 
duce obedience  to  God,  and  in  this  we  would 
wish  to  unite  this  whole  assembly.  Deprive 
the  text  of  this  clause,  and  the  rest  of  the 
words  are  not  only  false  and  unwarrantable, 
but  contradictory  to  themselves,  and  injuri- 
ous to  that  God,  whose  mercy  we  have  been 
publishing.  We  have  no  consolation  for  a 
melancholy  man,  who  is  resolved  to  persist 
in  his  sins.  We  have  no  remedy  ag-ainst 
despair,  when  the  despairing  man  refuses  to 
renounce  those  crimes,  tlie  remembrance  of 
which  causes  all  his  distress  and  despair. 

Ye  slanderers,  3'e  false  accusers,  3'e  pests 
of  society,  '  God  will  abundantly  pardon  you.' 
Yea,  though  ye  have  been  wickedly  industri- 
ous to  poison  the  purest  words,  the  most  harm- 
less actions,  the  holiest  intentions,  yet  ye 
ought  not  to  despair  of  the  mercy  of  God  ; 
'  for  his  thoughts  are  not  as  your  thoughts, 
nor  his  ways  as  your  ways.'  He  will  forgive 
all  your  sins,  if  ye  sincerely  forsake,  and  se- 


riously reform  them  ;  if  ye  do  justice  to  the 
innocence  that  ye  have  attacked,  and  repair 
the  reputation  that  ye  have  damaged. 

Ye  unjust,  ye  oppressors,  ye  extortioners, 
ye  who,  as  well  as  your  ancestors,  have  lived 
on  the  substance  of  the  wretched,  and  who 
are  about  to  transmit  an  accursed  patrimony 
to  your  posterity,  God  will  abundantly  par- 
don you :  yea,  though  ye  have  made  a  sale 
of  justice,  negotiated  the  blood  of  the  misera- 
ble, betrayed  the  state,  and  sold  your  coun- 
try, yet  ye  ought  not  to  despair  of  the  mer- 
cy of  God  ;  for  '  his  thoughts  are  not  your 
thoughts,  neither  are  his  ways  your  ways.' 
All  these  sins  he  will  forgive,  if  ye  endeavour 
seriously  to  amend  them ;  if  ye  lay  aside 
those  equipages,  and  retrench  those  sumptu- 
ous festivals,  which  are  the  fruits  of  your 
own,  and  of  your  parents'  oppressions  and 
extortions. 

Ye  sick,  ye  dying  people,  who  cannot  think 
of  your  momentary  life,  without  thinking  of 
those  sins,  which  ye  have  been  perpetually 
committing,  and  in  the  multitude  and  mag- 
nitude of  which  your  thoughts  are  lost, 
'  God  will  abundantly  pardon  you.'  Though 
no  other  time  remains  to  conciliate  your 
souls  to  God  than  the  last  days  of  a  dying 
illness,  the  slight  remains  of  a  departing 
life,  yet  ye  ought  not  to  despair  of  the  mer- 
cy of  God,  for  '  his  thoughts  are  not  as  your 
thoughts,  neither  are  his  ways  as  your  ways.* 
He  will  forgive  all  your  sins,  if  ye  sincerely 
forsake,  and  seriously  reform  them  ;  if  ye  be 
animated  not  only  with  the  fear  of  death  and 
hell,  but  with  a  sincere  desire  of  '  returning 
unto  the  Lord  ;'  if  ye  do  not  make  your  pas- 
tor an  accomplice  in  your  sins  :  if  ye  do  not 
forbid  him  the  mentioning  of  some  of  your 
sins;  if  ye  do  not  prevent  the  removal  of  that 
veil,  which  yet  hides  a  great  part  of  your 
tuipitude  from  you  ;  in  a  word,  if  ye  willing- 
ly fall  in  with  all  the  ways  of  repentance  and 
reparation,  that  may  be  opened  to  you. 

I  conclude  with  the  clause,  that  I  have  so 
often  repeated,  and  which  I  repeat  again, 
(and  wo  be  to  him  who  forgets  it !  wo  be  to 
him  who,  by  his  perseverance  in  sin,  renders 
his  compliance  impossible  !)  if  ye  sincerely 
forsake,  and  seriously  endeavour  to  reform 
and  repair  tliem.  I  give  you  a  subject  to 
meditate  for  the  conclusion  of  this  discourse 
(a  very  terrible  and  alarming  conclusion  for 
those  who  have  the  madness  to  '  turn  the 
grace  of  God  into  lasciviousness'),  Jude  4; 
this  subject,  which  I  leave  with  you  to  me- 
ditate, is,  what  degree  of  punishment  in  hell 
will  be  inflicted  upon  such  men  as  despise  the 
mercy  that  we  hav^e  been  describing.'  God 
grant  that  ye  may  never  be  able  to  answer 
this  by  your  own  experience  ! 


SERMON    IX. 


THE  SEVERITY  OF   GOD. 


Hkbrevvs  xii.   29. 
For  our  God  is  a  consuming  fire. 


J.T  is  a  very  deplorable  thing,  that  your 
preaciiers  can  never  expatiate  on  the  goodness 
of  God,  without  having  just  grounds  to  fear 
that  ye  infer  dangerous  consequences  from 
their  doctrine.  That  goodness,  of  which  God 
has  made  such  tender  declarations ;  that 
goodness,  of  which  he  has  given  us  such  aston- 
ishing proofs ;  that  goodness,  which  seems 
so  proper  to  make  us  love  him  above  all 
things;  that  goodness,  through  our  abuse  of 
it,  contributes  the  most  to  rivet  our  infidelity, 
and  to  increase  our  misery.  We  freely  ac- 
knowledge, therefore,  that  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling we  endeavoured  last  Lord's  day  to  dis- 
play its  greatness,  and,  though  all  our  portraits 
were  infinitely  beneath  the  original,  though 
we  esteemed  it  then  our  happiness,  and  our 
glory,  not  to  be  able  to  reach  our  subject, 
yet  we  have  been  afraid  of  having  said  too 
much.  When,  to  prevent  the  fatal  effects  of 
despair,  we  assured  you,  tJiat,  though  ye  had 
trafficked  with  tiie  blood  of  the  oppressed,  or 
betrayed  the  state,  or  sold  your  country,  yet 
ye  might  derive  from  the  ocean  of  divine  mer- 
cy a  pardon  for  all  these  crimes,  provided  ye 
were  enabled  sincerely  to  repent,  and  tiio- 
roughly  to  reform  them ;  when  we  said  these 
things,  we  revolved  in  our  minds  these  dis- 
couraging thoughts  :  perhaps  some  of  our 
hearers  may  poison  our  doctrine :  perliaps 
some  monster,  of  which  nature  produces  an 
e.xample  in  every  age,  actually  says  to  him- 
self; I  may  then,  without  despairing  of  my 
salvation,  traffic  with  the  blood  of  the  op- 
pressed, betray  the  state,  sell  my  country, 
and,  having  spent  my  life  in  these  wicked 
practices,  turn  to  God  on  my  death-bed.  Ye 
will  allow,  we  hope,  that  the  bare  probability 
of  our  having  occasioned  so  dangerovis  a 
wound  ought  to  engage  us  to  attempt  to  heal 
it,  by  contrasting  to-day  the  goodness  of  God 
with   his  severity. 

The  te.xt  that  we  have  chosen,  is  the  lan- 
guage of  St.  Paul,  '  Our  God  is  a  consuming 
fire ;'  and,  it  is  worthy  of  observation,  that 
we  have  scrupulously  imitated  the  apostle's 
example  in  making  this  subject  immediately 
succeed  that  which  we  explained  last  Lord's 
day.  The  gospel  of  last  Lord's  day  was  a 
■passage  in  Isaiah,  '  God  will  abundantly  par- 
don, for  his  thoughts  are  not  our  thoughts, 
neither  are  our  ways  his  ways  :  for  as  the 
heavens  are  higher  than  the  eartli,  so  are  his 
ways  higher  than  our  ways,  and  his  thoughts 
than  our  thoughts,'  Isa.  Iv.  7.  The  gospel 
ot  this  day  is,  '  Our  God  is  a  consuming 
tire.'  St.  Paul  has  made  a  similar  arrange- 
ment, and  him  we  have  imitated.  In  the 
verses  which  precede  our  text  he  has  describ- 
led,  in  a  very  magnificent  manner;  the  good- 


ness of  God  in  the  dispensation  of  the  gos- 
pel. He  has  exalted  the  condition  of  a  Chris- 
tian, not  only  above  that  of  the  heathens, 
who  knew  the  mercy  of  God  only  by  natural 
reason,  but  even  above  that  of  the  Jews, 
who  knew  it  by  revelation,  but  from  whom 
it  was  partly  hidden  under  veils  of  severity 
and  rigour.  'Ye  are  not  come,'  said  he,  'un- 
to the  mount  that  might  be  touched,  and  that 
burned  with  fire,  nor  unto  blackness,  and 
darkness,  and  tempest,  and  the  sound  of  a 
trumpet,  and  the  voice  of  words,  which  voice 
they  that  heard,  entreated  that  the  word 
should  not  be  spoken  to  them  any  more.  But 
ye  are  come  unto  mount  Sion,  and  unto  the 
city  of  the  living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusa- 
lem, and  to  an  innumerable  company  of  an- 
gels, to  the  general  assembly  and  church  of 
the  first-born  which  are  written  in  heaven, 
and  to  Jesus  the  mediator  of  the  new  cove- 
nant,and  to  the  blood  of  sprinkling,that  speak- 
eth  better  things  than  that  of  Abel,'  ver. 
18,  &c.  But  what  consequences  has  the 
apostle  drawn  from  all  these  truths.'  Are 
they  consequences  of  security  and  indiffer- 
ence, such  as  some  Christians  draw  from 
them  ;  such  as  some  of  }'ou,  it  may  be,  drew 
from  the  prophet's  doctrine  last  Lord's  day  .' 
No;  they  are  consequences  of  vigilance  and 
fear  :  '  See  that  ye  refuse  not  him  that  speak- 
eth:  for  if  they  escaped  not  who  refused  him 
that  spake  on  earth,  much  more  shall  not  we 
escape,  if  we  turn  away  from  him  that 
speaketh  from  heaven  :  for  our  God  is  a  con- 
suming fire,'  ver.  2.5. 

'  Our  God  is  a  consuming  fire.'  These 
words  are  metaphorical ;  they  include  even  <a 
double  metaphor.  God  is  here  represented 
under  the  emblem  of  fire,  agreeably  to  what 
the  Psalmist  says, '  Shall  thy  wrath  burn  like 
fire.''  Ps.  Ixxxix.  4G.  There  is  no  difficulty 
in  this  first  metaphor.  But  the  second,  which 
represents  the  conduct  of  God  towards  im 
penitent  sinners,  as  wrat/i,  xengeunce,  anger, 
is  very  difficult,  and  requires  a  particular  ex- 
plication. In  order  to  which  we  will  attempt 
three  things. 

I.  We  will  endeavour  to  harmonize  our 
text  with  other  parallel  passages,  and  to  give 
you  distinct  ideas  of  that  which  is  called  in 
God  icrutli,  (wgcr,  rcngcunce,  and  which  oc- 
casioned our  apostle  to  say,  '  God  is  a  con- 
suming fire.' 

II.  We  will  prove  that  this  attribute 
agrees  to  God  in  the  sense  that  we  shall 
have  given. 

III.  We  will  endeavour  to  reconcile  the 
doctrine  that  %ve  preach  to-day,  with  that 
which  we  preached  last  Lord's  day;  the  jus- 
tice of  God  with  his  goodness ;  and  by  this 


Ser.  IX.] 


THE  SEVERITY  OF  GOD. 


109 


mean  to  engage  you  to  love  and  adore  God  as 
much  when  he  threatens  as  when  he  promi- 
ses, as  much  when  he  presents  his  justice  as 
when  he  displays  his  mercy.  Tliis  is  the 
whole  plan  of  this  discourse. 

I.  We  will  endeavour  to  give  you  distinct 
notions  of  that  which  the  Scripture  calls  the 
wrath,  the  anger,  the  vengeance,  of  God. 

Recollect  a  remark  which  we  have  often 
made,  that  is,  that  when  the  Scripture  speaks 
of  the  perfections  and  operations  of  God,  it 
borrows  images  from  the  affections  and  ac- 
tions of  men.  Things  that  cannot  be  known 
to  us  by  themselves  can  be  understood  only 
by  analogy,  as  it  is  called,  that  is,  by  the  re- 
semblance which  they  bear  to  other  things, 
with  which  we  are  better  acquainted.  Divine 
things  are  of  this  kind. 

From  this  remark  follows  a  precaution, 
which  is  necessary  for  the  avoiding  of  error 
whenever  we  meet  with  an  emblem  of  this 
kind  descriptive  of  God  in  the  holy  Scrip- 
tures; that  is,  that  we  must  carefiilly  lay 
aside  every  part  of  the  emblem,  that  agrees 
only  to  men  from  whom  it  is  borrowed,  and 
apply  only  that  part  to  the  Deity  which  is  com- 
patible with  the  eminence  of  his  perfections. 

Sometimes  the  part  that  ought  to  be  laid 
aside  is  so  obvious  that  it  is  impossible  to  mis- 
take it.  For  example :  when  the  Scripture 
attributes  to  God  hands,  or  feet,  sorrow,  or 
tears,  or  jealousy,  it  is  very  easy,  methinks, 
to  separate  from  emblems  of  this  sort  all  that 
can  only  agree  with  the  natures  of  frail,  or 
with  the  conditions  of  sinful  men. 

But  sometimes  it  is  not  quite  so  easy.  The 
difficulty  may  proceed  from  several  causes,  of 
all  which  I  shall  mention  but  one  at  present, 
and  to  that  I  entreat  your  attention.  Some 
men  have  false  notions  of  grandeur,  and  none 
are  more  likely  to  entertain  such  notions  than 
those  divines,  who  have  breathed  only  the  air 
of  the  study,  and  trodden  only  on  the  dust  of 
the  schools.  Such  divines  having  never 
sweetened  their  manners  by  a  social  inter- 
course with  rational  people  in  the  world,  have 
often  contracted  in  that  way  of  life  a  sour 
morose  disposition,  and  their  tempers  have 
tinged  their  ideas  of  grandeur  and  glory.  I 
am  greatly  inclined  to  believe  that  some  ideas, 
which  several  schoolmen  have  formed  of  the 
liberty  and  independence  of  God,  have  arisen 
from  this  disposition.  Divines,  who  have 
sweetened  their  manners  by  associating  witli 
rational  people  in  the  world,  would  have  at- 
tributed to  God  a  noble  and  magnanimous 
use  of  his  liberty  and  independence.  They 
would  have  said,  God  is  free  and  inde- 
pendent, then  he  will  always  do  justly  and 
equitably  :  then  he  will  require  of  mankind 
only  that  which  beai-s  a  proportion  to  the  ta- 
lents that  he  has  given  them ;  then  misery 
will  be  the  consequence  of  nothing  but  vice, 
and  felicity  will  always  follow  virtue.  If  the 
Scriptures  sometimes  represent  God  by  em- 
blems, which  seem  opposite  to  these  notions, 
sensible  men  would  have  considered  that  one 
part  of  them  ought  to  have  been  cautiously 
separated  from  the  other,  because  it  was  in- 
compatible with  the  eminence  of  the  perfec- 
tions of  God.  But  these  scholastic  divines 
have  attributed  to  God  such  a  conduct  as 
their  own  savage  tempers  would  have  observ- 


ed, bad  they  been  vested  with  divine  power. 
To  each  of  them  the  prophet's  reproach  may 
be  very  properly  applied,  '  These  things  hast 
thou  done,  and  thou  thoughtest  that  I  was  al- 
together such  a  one  as  thyself,' Ps.  1.  21.  They 
said,  God  is  free,  therefore  he  may  appoint 
men,  who  have  done  neither  good  nor  evil, 
to  eternal  flames.  God  is  free,  therefore  he 
may  create  men  on  purpose  that  they  may 
sin,  and  that  he  may  display  his  wrath  in  their 
punishment. 

II.  Here  let  us  stop,  and  let  us  keep  to  the 
subject  in  hand,  by  observing  that  those  em 
blems  of  wrath  and  vengeance,  under  which 
God  is  represented  to  us,  have  one  part  that 
cannot  be  attributed  to  him,  because  it  is  not 
compatible  with  the  eminence  of  his  perfec- 
tions, and  another,  that  must  bo  applied  to 
him  because  it  is  : — 

1.  It  is  a  consequence  of  the  frailty,  or  of 
the  depravity  of  men,  that  their  anger  in- 
clines them  to  hate  those  whom  they  ought 
to  love,  and  in  whose  happiness  they  ought 
to  interest  themselves,  as  far  as  they  can 
without  violating  the  laws  of  equity.  Such  a 
hatred  cannot  be  attributed  to  God  ;  he  loves 
all  his  intelligent  creatures,  and  when  we  are 
told  that  '  the  Lord  hateth  a  proud  look,  a 
lying  tongue,  and  hands  that  shed  innocent 
blood,'  Prov.  vi.  17  ;  when  he  is  represented 
as  refusing  some  real  blessings  to  mankind,  as 
'  hardening  their  hearts,  as  sending  them 
strong  delusions,  that  they  should  believe  a 
lie,'  Exod.  iv.  21  ;  2  Thess.  ii.  11  ;  all  these 
descriptions  mean  that  he  dislikes  sin,  and  all 
those  who  commit  it  ;  that  it  is  not  always 
consistent  with  the  eminence  of  his  perfec- 
tions to  work  miracles  for  their  conversion  : 
and  that  it  is  not  fit  to  reform  by  a  physical 
power,  which  would  destroy  the  nature  of  vice 
and  virtue,  men  who  refuse  to  be  reformed  by 
a  moral  power,  which  is  suited  to  intelligent 
beings. 

2.  It  is  a  consequence  of  human  frailty  or 
depravity  that  men's  wrath  makes  them  taste 
a  barbarous  pleasure  in  tormenting  those  who 
are  tlie  objects  of  it,  and  in  feasting,  as  it 
were,  on  their  miseries.  This  is  incompati- 
ble with  the  eminence  of  the  perfections  of 
God.  When  he  says  to  impenitent  sinners, 
'  I  will  laugh  at  your  calamity,  I  will  mock 
when  your  fear  cometh,'  Prov.  i.  2G  ;  when 
he  says,  '  Ah,  I  will  ease  me  of  mine  adver- 
saries,' Isa.  i.  24  ;  when  Moses  says  to  the 
Jews, '  It  shall  come  to  pass,  that  as  the  Lord 
rejoiced  over  you  to  do  you  good,  so  the  Lord 
will  rejoice  over  you  to  destroy  you,  and  to 
bring  you  to  nought,'  Deut.  xxviii.  G3.  All 
the  meaning  of  passages  of  this  kind  is,  that 
the  wisdom  of  God  approves  the  judgments 
that  his  justice  inflicts  ;  that  the  punishments 
of  sinners  cannot  affect  his  happiness  ;  and 
that  when  he  has  not  been  gloritied  in  their 
conversion,  he  will  be  glorilied  in  their  de- 
struction. 

3.  It  is  a  consequence  of  the  frailty  or  of 
the  depravity  of  men,  that  their  anger  disor- 
ders their  bodies,  and  impairs  their  minds. 
See  the  eyes  sparkle,  tlie  mouth  foams,  the 
animal  spirits  are  in  a  flame  ;  these  obscure 
the  faculties  of  the  mind,  and  prevent  the 
weighing  of  those  reasons  that  plead  for  the 
guilty  offender  ;  anger  prejudges  him,  and  in 


110 


THE  SEVERITY  OF  GOD. 


[Skr.  IX. 


spite  of  many  powerful  pleas  in  his  favour,  his 
ruin  is  resolved.  All  these  are  incompatible 
with  the  eminence  of  the  perfections  of  God. 
*  God  is  a  spirit,'  John  iv.  24  ;  he  is  not  sub- 
ject to  revolutions  of  sense  ;  reasons  of  pun- 
ishino-  a  sinner  never  divert  his  attention  from 
motives  of  pardoning  the  man,  or  of  moderat- 
ing his  pain.  When  tlierelbre,  God  is  repre- 
sented as  '  shaking  the  earth,  and  moving  the 
foundations  of  the  hills,  because  he  is  wroth  ;.' 
when  we  read,  '  there  went  up  a  smoke  out  of 
his  nostrils,  and  fire  out  of  his  mouth,'  Ps. 
xviii.  7,  8  ;  when  he  who  is  called  the  Word 
of  God,  is  described  as  treading  '  the  wine- 
press of  the  fierceness  of  the  wrath  of  Al- 
mighty God,'  Rev.  xix.  13.  15,  we  understand 
no  more  than  that  God  knows  how  to  propor- 
tion the  punishment  to  the  sin,  and  that  he 
will  inflict  the  most  rigorous  penalties  on  the 
most  atrocious  crimes. 

4.  It  is  a  consequence  of  the  frailty  and  de- 
pravity of  men,  that  their  anger  makes  them 
usurp  a  right  which  belongs  to  God.  An  in- 
dividual, who  avenges  himself,  assumes  the 
place  of  that  God  who  has  said,  '  Vengeance 
18  mine,'  Rom.  xii.  19  ;  at  least  he  assumes 
the  place  of  the  magistrate,  to  whom  God 
has  committed  the  sword  for  the  preventing 
of  those  disorders,  which  would  subvert  soci- 
ety, if  each  were  judge  in  his  own  cause. 
This  is  incompatible  with  the  eminence  of 
the  divine  perfections.  God  uses  his  own 
right  when  he  punishes  sin,  agreeably  to  the 
doctrine  of  St.  Paul, '  Dearly  beloved,  avenge 
not  yourselves,  but  rather  give  place  unto 
wrath  ;  for  it  is  written.  Vengeance  is  mine  ; 
I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord.'  What  is  this 
icrath,  to  which  we  are  required  to  give  place  ? 
It  is  the  anger  of  God.  '  Avenge  not  your- 
selves, but  give  place  unto  wrath  ;'  that  is,  be 
not  hasty  in  revenging  injuries  ;  your  self- 
love  may  magnify  them,  and  the  punishment 
which  ye  inflict  may  exceed  the  offence ; 
leave  vengeance  to  God,  who  knows  how  to 
weigh  the  injuries  that  ye  have  received  in 
an  impartial  scale,  and  to  inflict  such  punish- 
ments on  the  guilty  as  their  crimes  deserve. 

5.  It  is  a  consequence  of  the  frailty  and  de- 
pravity of  men,  that  time  does  not  abate  their 
resentment,  and  that  the  only  reason  which 
prevents  the  rendering  of  evil  for  evil,  is  a 
want  of  opportunity  ;  as  soon  as  an  opportu- 
nity offers  tlicy  eagerly  embrace  it.  This  is  in- 
compatible witli  the  eminence  of  the  perfec- 
tions of  God ;  he  has  at  all  times  the  means 
of  punishing  the  guilty.  When  we  are  told, 
therefore,  that  he  'sets  our  iniquities  before 
him,  our  secret  sins  in  the  light  of  his  coun- 
tenance,' Ps.  xc.  6 ;  when,  having  reprieved 
the  Israelites  at  the  request  of  Moses,  he  told 
him,  '  in  the  day  when  1  visit,  1  will  visit  their 
sin  upon  them,'  Exod.  xxxii.  34  ;  we  only  un- 
derstand, that  time  never  removes  an  idea 
from  his  mind  ;  and  that  if  a  sinner  do  not 
improve  the  time,  which  is  granted  to  him  for 
his  repentance,  he  will  be  punished  when 
that  period  expires. 

6.  In  fine,  it  is  a  consequence  of  the  frailty 
and  depravity  of  men,  that  their  anger  puts 
them  upon  considering  and  punishing  a  par- 
donable frailty  as  an  atrocious  crime.  TJiis 
is  incompatible  with  the  enjinence  of  the  di- 
vine perfections.    If  we  imagine  that  God 


acts  so,  in  any  cases,  it  is  because  we  hiive 
false  notions  of  sins,  and  think  that  a  pardon- 
able   frailty   which    is    an   atrocious    crime. 
Sometimes  an  action  that  appears  tolerable 
to  us,  is  an  atrocious  crime,  on  account  of 
the  motive  from  which  it  proceeds.     Such 
was  that  of  Hezekiah ;    he  showed  his  treas- 
ures to  the  Babylonian  ambassadors,  and  al- 
though this  may  seem  very  pardonable,  yet  it 
was  an  atrocious  crime,  which  appears  by  the 
following   passage,  'Hezekiah  rendered   not 
again  according  to  the  benefit  done  unto  him : 
for  his  heart  was  lifted  up  ;    therefore  there 
was  wrath  upon  him,  and  upon  Judah  and  Je- 
rusalem,' 2  Chron.  xxxii.  25.     An  action  that 
may  appear  to  us  very  tolerable,  is  sometimes 
a  heinous  crime,  on  account  of  the  singularity 
of  the  favour  which  preceded  it.     Such  was 
the  conduct  of  Lot's  wife ;    she  looked  back 
towards  Sodom,  which  although  it  may  seem 
very  pardonable  was  yet  a  heinous  crime,  be- 
cause she  disobeyed  the  express  command  of 
her   benefactor,  who  had  just  delivered  her 
from  the  destruction  of  Sodom  ;  and  there- 
fore she  was  instantly   petrified.     An  action 
that  may  seem  very  tolerable  to  us,  is  some- 
times a   very  atrocious  crime,  on  account  of 
the  little  temptation  which  the  offiender  had 
to  commit  it.     Such   was  the  action  of  that 
man  who  '  gathered  sticks  upon  the  sabbath- 
day,'   Numb.  XV.  32 ;  and  although  this  may 
seem  very  tolerable  to  us  yet  it  was  a  heinous 
offence,  because  it  was  very  easy  to  abstain 
from  it,  and  therefore  he  was  stoned.     An  ac- 
tion that  may  seem  very  pardonable  to  us, 
may  be  a  heinous  crime,  on  account  of  the 
dignity  of  the  oflTender.     Such  was   that   of 
Nadab  and  Abihu  ;    they  offered  strange  fire 
to  the  Lord,  and  although  it  may  appear  very 
pardonable  to  us  yet  it  was  an  atrocious  crime, 
for  Nadab  and  Abihu  were  ministers  of  holy 
things,  and  they  ought  to  have  given  exam- 
ples of  exact  and  scrupulous   obedience,  ac- 
cordingly they  were  consumed  with  fire  from 
heaven.  Lev.  x.  1,2. 

Thus  we  have  gone  through  our  first  arti- 
cle, and  have  endeavoured  to  give  you  dis- 
tinct ideas  of  that  which  the  Scripture  calls 
in  God,  '  wrath,  anger,  consuming  fire.' 

Moreover,  in  explaining  the  meaning  of  the 
proposition  in  the  text,  we  have  collected  se- 
veral passages,  and  alleged  examples,  which 
prove  the  truth  under  our  consideration.  The 
explication  of  this  proposition,  'our  God  is  a 
consuming  fire,'  proves  its  truth  in  the  sense  in 
which  we  have  explained  it.  We  leave  the 
enlargement  of  this  article  to  your  meditation, 
and  proceed  to  the  next. 

III.  We  are  to  conciliate  what  the  Scrip- 
ture says  of  the  goodness  of  God  with  what 
it  says  of  his  anger  or  vengeance  ;  the  gos- 
pel of  last  Lord's  day,  with  the  gospel  of 
this  day :  and,  as  the  two  subjects  never 
appear  more  irreconcileable  than  when  hav- 
ing used  all  our  endeavours  to  terrify  people 
who  defer  their  conversion  till  a  dying-illness, 
we  actually  take  pains  to  comfort  those  who 
have  deferred  it  till  that  time  ;  we  will  endea- 
vour to  harmonize  the  goodness  and  justice  of 
God  in  that  particular  point  of  view. 

First,  Let  us  endeavour,  in  a^eneral  vie\y, 
to  reconcile  the  goodness  of  God  with  his 
justice,  by  laying  down  a  few  principles. 


Ser.  IX.] 


THE  SEVERITY  OF  GOD. 


HI 


1.  To  speak  properly,  there  are  not  several 
perfections  in  God ;  but  there  is  one  single 
excellence,  inclusive  of  every  other,  that 
arises  from  all  his  perfections,  but  of  which 
it  is  not  possible  that  we  can  either  form  any 
complete  ideas,  or  easily  express  by  any  name  : 
in  general,  it  may  be  called  order,  or  love  of 
order.  Order,  in  regard  to  finite  and  de- 
pendent beings,  is  that  disposition,  which  in- 
duces them  to  act  agreeably  to  their  relations 
to  other  intelligent  beings  ;  to  the  faculties 
which  the  Creator  has  given  them ;  to  the 
talents  that  they  have  received  ;  and  to  the 
circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed. 
Order,  in  regard  to  God,  who  is  an  infinite 
and  an  independent  Intelligence,  is  that  dis- 
position, which  induces  him  always  to  act 
agreeably  to  the  eminence  of  his  perfections. 

2.  Although  God  has  only  a  general  excel- 
lence, yet  it  is  necessary  for  us  to  divide  it 
into  several  particular  excellences,  in  order  to 
the  obtaining  of  some  knowledge  of  an  ob- 
ject, the  immensity  of  which  will  not  allow 
us  to  comprehend  it  at  once.  We  are  obliged 
to  use  this  method  in  studying  finite  objects, 
whenever  their  sphere  extends  beyond  the 
comprehension  of  a  single  act  of  the  mind  : 
and,  if  finite  objects  can  be  known  only  by  this 
method,  for  a  much  stronger  reason  we  must " 
be  allowed  to  use  the  same  method  of  obtain- 
ing the  knowledge  of  the  great  and  infinite 
Being. 

3.  The  general  excellence  of  God  being 
thus  divided  into  parts,  each  part  becomes 
what  we  call  a  perfection,  or  an  attribute  of 
God,  as  vengeance  or  justice,  and  goodness  : 
but  each  particular  attribute  will  be  still  mis- 
taken unless  we  subdivide  it  again  into  other, 
and  still  more  contracted  spheres.  Thus, 
when  God  sends  rain  and  fruitful  seasons,  we 
call  the  blessing  simply  hountij.  When  he 
delivers  us  out  of  our  afflictions,  we  call  it 
compassion.  When  he  pardons  our  sins,  we 
call  it  mercy.  But  as  all  these  particular 
excellences  proceed  from  that  general  attri- 
bute which  we  call  o-oo^Z/iess,  so  that  attribute 
itself  proceeds,  as  well  as  his  justice,  from  an 
excellence  more  general  still,  which  vfe  have 
denominated  order  or  love  of  order. 

4.  Perfections  that  proceed  from  the  same 
perfection,  or  rather,  which  are  the  same 
perfection  applied  to  different  subjects,  can- 
not be  contrary  to  each  other.  Strictly 
speaking',  God  is  no  more  just  than  good,  no 
more  good  than  just.  His  goodness  is  restrain- 
ed by  his  justice,  his  justice  by  his  goodness. 
He  delights  as  much  in  the  exercise  of  his 
justice,  when  order  requires  it,  as  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  goodness,  when  order  requires 
him  to  exercise  it :  or,  to  express  the  same 
thing  more  plainly,  that  which  is  goodness, 
when  it  is  applied  to  one  case  would  cease  to 
be  goodness,  were  it  applied  to  a  different 
case,  because,  in  the  latter,  goodness  would 
not  be  restrained  by  justice:  or,  to  ex- 
press myself  more  plainly  still,  because  order, 
which  allows  the  exercise  of  goodness  in  the 
first  case,  does  not  allow  the  exercise  of  it  in 
the  last,  so  that  what  would  be  fit,  or  agreea- 
ble to  order,  in  the  first  case,  would  be  unfit 
or  disorderly  in  the  last. 

To  conclude.  God  is  as  amiable  and  ado- 
rable when  he  exercises  his  justice,  as  when 


he  exercises  his  goodness.  That  wluch  makes 
me  adore  God,  believe  his  word,  hope  in  his 
promises,  and  love  him  above  all  things,  is 
the  eminence  of  his  perfections.  Were  not 
God  possessed  of  such  an  eminence  of  his 
perfections,  he  would  not  be  a  proper  object 
of  adoration.  I  should  be  in  danger  of  being 
deceived  were  I  to  believe  his  word,  or  to 
trust  his  promise  ;  and  I  should  be  guilty  of 
idolatry,  were  I  to  love  him  with  that  su- 
preme affection,  which  is  due  to  none  but  the 
Supreme  Being.  But,  the  goodness  and  jus- 
tice of  God  being  equal  emanations  of  the 
eminence  of  his  perfections,  and  of  his  love  of 
order,  I  ought  equally  to  adore  and  love  him 
when  he  rewards,  and  when  he  punishes ; 
when  he  exercises  his  justice  and  when  ho 
exercises  his  goodness :  because,  in  either 
case,  he  alike  displays  that  general  excel- 
lence, that  love  of  order,  which  is  the  ground 
of  my  love  and  obedience.  I  ought  to  adore 
and  love  him,  as  much  when  he  drowns  the 
world,  as  when  he  promises  to  drown  it  no 
more  ;  when  he  unlocks  the  gates  of  hell,  as 
when  he  opens  the  doors  of  heaven  ;  when 
he  says  to  the  impenitent, '  Depart, ye  cursed, 
to  the  devil  and  his  angels,'  Matt.  xxv.  41, 
as  when  he  says  to  his  elect,  '  Come  ye  bless- 
ed of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  pre- 
pared for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the 
world,'  Matt.  xxv.  34. 

The  justice  and  the  goodness  of  God,  then, 
are  in  perfect  harmony  ;  the  gospel  of  last 
Lord's  day,  and  the  gospel  of  this  day,  en- 
tirely agree ;  the  prophet  and  the  apostle 
preach  the  same  doctrine,  and  the  two  texts 
rightly  understood, '  God  is  a  consuming  fire  ; 
The  Lord  will  abundantly  pardon  :'  both  these 
texts,  I  say,  present  the  same  object  to  us,  the 
eminence  of  tlie  divine  perfections,  God's  love 
of  order.     Tliis  is  what  we  proposed  to  prove. 

Let  us  now  apply  this  general  harmony  of 
the  goodness  and  severity  of  God,  to  the  re- 
moving of  a  seeming  inconsistency  in  the 
conduct  of  your  preachers  and  casuists,  who 
first  use  every  effort  to  alarm  and  terrify 
your  minds  with  the  idea  of  a  death-bed  re- 
pentance, and  afterward  take  equal  pains  td 
comfort  you,  when  ye  have  deferred  your  re- 
pentance to  that  time,  and  when  your  case 
appears  desperate. 

Why  do  we  not  despair  of  a  man  who  de- 
lays his  conversion  till  the  approach  of  death  ? 
Why  did  we  tell  you  last  Lord's  day,  that  God 
pardons  not  only  the  sins  of  months  and  years, 
but  of  a  whole  life  .-'  Because  that  order  which 
constitutes  the  eminence  of  the  divine  per- 
fections, does  not  allow  that  a  sincere  con- 
version, a  conversion  that  reforms  the  sin, 
and  renews  the  sinner  should  be  rejected  by 
God.  Now  we  cannot  absolutely  deny  the 
possibility  of  a  sincere  death-bed  conversion 
for  the  following  reasons. 

L  Because  it  is  not  absolutely  impossible 
that  a  violent  fit  of  sickness,  or  an  apprehen- 
sion of  death,  should  make  deeper  impressions 
on  the  mind,  than  either  sermons,  or  exhor- 
tations, or  books  of  devotion,  could  ever  pro- 
duce. This  reflection  Is  the  more  solid,  be- 
cause the  phrase,  an  unconverted  man,  is  ex- 
tremely equivocal.  We  call  him  an  uncon- 
verted man,  who  profanely  rushes  into  all 
sorts  of  sins,  and  who  never  made  one  sacri- 


112 


THE  SEVERITY  OF  GOD. 


[Sek>  IX. 


lice  to  order  ;  and  wo  also,  with  great  reason, 
call  him  an  unconverted  man,  who  has  re- 
nounced all  sins  except  one.  Now  the  idea 
of  death  may  finish,  in  the  souls  of  people  of 
the  latter  sort,  a  work  which  they  had  in- 
deed neglected,  but  which,  however,  was  ac- 
tually begun. 

2.  Because  wo  are  neither  so  fully  acquaint- 
ed with  other  people's  hearts,  nor  indeed  with 
our  own,  as  to  determine  whether  sin  have  so 
entirely  depraved  all  the  faculties  of  the  soul, 
that  it  is  past  remedy  ;  or,  whether  it  have 
arrived  at  that  precise  degree  of  corruption, 
to  which  the  eminence  of  the  divine  perfec- 
tions does  not  allow  a  display  of  that  efficacy, 
which  is  promised  to  those  who  desire  the 
grace  of  conversion. 

3.  Because  we  find,  in  the  holy  Scriptures, 
that  some  have  obtained  mercy,  after  they 
had  committed  the  very  crimes,  the  remem- 
brance of  which,  we  have  said,  ought  not  to 
drive  any  to  despair.  We  meet  willi  at  least 
one  example,  which  affords  a  probability  (I 
do  not  say  a  demonstration,)Uiat  the  eminence 
of  the  divine  perfections  does  not  always  re- 
quire, that  a  man,  who  has  spent  his  life  in  rob- 
beries, should  be  excluded  from  the  mercy  of 
God.  We  find  there  a  thief  who  was  condemn- 
ed to  be  crucified,  and  who  said  to  the  com- 
panion of  his  iniquities  and  miseries, '  we  re- 
ceive the  due  rewards  of  our  deeds,'  Luk.  xxiii. 
41 ;  but  who,  notwithstanding  all  the  misery 
of  his  case,  applied  to  Jesus  Christ,  and,  from 
his  adorable  mouth,  received  this  comfortable 
promise, '  Verily  I  say  unto  thee,  to-day  shalt 
thou  be  with  me  in  paradise,'  Luke  xxiii.  43. 

4.  Because  we  still  sec  people,  who,  having 
lived  thirty,  yea  fifty  years  in  sin,  have  been 
converted  in  a  time  of  sickness,  and  who,  be- 
ing restored  to  health,  give  full  proof  of  the 
reality  of  their  conversion.  Such  examples,  I 
own,  are  rare,  and  almost  unheard  of,  yet 
wo  could,  perhaps,  mention  two  or  three,  out 
of  twenty  thousand  sick  people,  whom  we 
have  visited,  or  of  whom  we  have  heard,  in 
the  course  of  our  ministry.  Now  the  exam- 
ples of  two  or  three,  who  have  been  convert- 
ed on  a  sick-bed,  out  of  twenty  thousand  who 
have  died  without  conversion,  arc  sufficient 
to  prevent  our  saying  to  one  dying  man,  who 
should  have  put  off  his  repentance  to  the  last 
hour,  that  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  be  con- 
verted. 

5.  Because  God  works  miracles  in  religion 
as  well  as  in  nature,  and  because  no  man  lias 
a  sufficient  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  God's 
perfections  to  enable  him  to  afiirm  tliat  a 
miracle  cannot,  or  ought  not  to  be  wrought 
in  behalf  of  such  a  sinner. 

G.  Because  we  cannot  find,  that  your  pas- 
tors have  any  authority  from  tlicir  Bibles  to 
Bay  to  a  penitent  sinner,  at  any  time,  there  is 
no  more  hope  for  thee  ;  thou  hast  exhausted 
the  mercy  of  God  ;  thou  art  gotten  to  that 
period,  in  which  we  have  no  other  morality 
to  preach  than  this,  *  he  that  is  unjust,  let 
him  be  unjust  still ;  and  he  that  is  filthy,  let 
him  be  filthy  still,'  Rev.  xxii.  11.  On  the 
contrary,  all  the  directions  in  the  holy  Scrip- 
tures, that  relate  to  the  exercise  of  our  minis- 
try, engage  us  to  pray  for  a  sinner,  as  long 
as  he  has  a  spark  of  life  ;  to  endeavour  to  con- 
vince liim  as  long  aa  he  la  capable  of  reason- 


ing ;  and,  till  he  Js  past  feeling  the  force  of 
motives  to  conversion,  to  do  everything,  that 
is  in  our  power,  to  convert  him.  But  does 
not  all  this  conduct  suppose  that  which  we 
have  been  endeavouring  to  prove  ?  That  is, 
that  to  what  degree  soever  a  sinner  have  car- 
ried his  sin,  how  long  soever  he  may  have 
lived  in  it,  there  will  always  be  a  sufficiency 
of  pardon,  where  there  is  a  certainty  of  con- 
version ;  agreeably  to  the  gospel  that  we 
preached  to  you  on  the  last  Lord's  day, 
'  Seek  ye  the  Lord  while  he  may  be  found, 
call  ye  upon  him  while  he  is  near  :  Let  the 
wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous 
man  his  thoughts :  and  let  him  return  unto 
the  Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon  him : 
and  to  our  God  for  he  will  abundantly  par- 
don.' For  my  thoughts  of  grace  and  mercy 
must  not  be  measured  by  the  ideas  of  the 
finest  reasoning  powers;  much  less  by  those 
of  a  gloomy  desponding  mind.  '  My  thoughts 
are  not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways 
my  ways,  saith  the  Lord:  For  as  the  heavens 
are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  my  ways 
higher  than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts  than 
your  thoughts.'  This  was  tlie  gospel  of  last 
Lord's  day. 

The  gospel  of  this  day  is,  ^our  God  is  a 
consuming  fire.'  But  these  two  gospels  en- 
tirely agree,  and  our  endeavours  to  comfort 
you,  after  ye  have  deferred  your  conversion 
to  a  death-bed,  are  not  inconsistent  with  our 
endeavours  to  terrify  and  alarm  you,  when 
we  perceive  that  ye  obstinately  determine 
to  defer  your  repentance  to  that  time.  More- 
over, the  same  reasons  which  prevail  with  as 
to  comfort  you  in  that  sad  period,  prevail 
with  us  to  give  you  a  salutary  alarm  before 
the  fatal  moment  comes. 

It  is  true,  GoiVs  tliaughts  are  not  our 
thoughts  ;  and  it  is  possible  that  the  approach 
of  death  may  make  deeper  impressions  on 
you,  than  either  sermons  or  pious  books  have 
made  ;  but  yet '  our  God  is  a  consuming  fire.' 
What  a  time  is  a  dying  illness  for  the  receiv- 
ing of  such  impressions !  I  omit  those  sudden 
and  unexpected  deaths,  of  which  we  have  so 
many  yearly,  or  rather  daily,  examples.  I 
omit  the  sudden  deaths  of  those,  who,  whilo 
we  were  conversing  and  transacting  business 
with  them,  were  seized  with  violent  pains, 
turned  pale,  and  died,  and  were  instantly 
stretched  on  a  bier.  I  pass  those,  who  went 
to  bed  healthy  and  well,  who  quietly  fell 
asleep,  and  whom  we  have  found  in  the  morn- 
ing dead  and  cold.  AU  these  melancholy  ex- 
amples we  omit,  for  one  would  imagine,  con- 
sidering your  conduct,  and  liearing  your  con- 
versation, that  each  of  you  had  received  a  re- 
velation to  assure  him  of  an  exemption  from 
sudden  death.  But  what  a  time  is  a  dying 
illness  for  renovation  and  conversion! 
Would  not  one  suppose,  tliat  those,  who  hope 
to  be  converted  then,  have  always  lived 
among  immortals,  tand  have  neither  heard  of 
death,  nor  seen  a  person  die  .'  Ah  !  What  ob- 
stacles !  What  a  world  of  obstacles  oppose 
such  extravagant  hopes,  and  justify  the  eiforts 
of  those  who  endeavour  to  destroy  them ! 
Here  is  busiiKJss  that  must  be  settled  ;  a  will 
which  must  be  made  ;  a  number  of  articles 
tliat  must  be  discussed  ;  there  are  friends, 
who  must  be  embraced )  relations,  that  must 


Ser.  IX.] 


THE  SEVERITY  OF  GOO. 


113 


be  dissolved;  {Aildren,  who  must  be  torn 
away ;  the  soul  must  be  writhen,  and  rent, 
and  riven  asunder  with  sighs  and  adieus. 
Here,  arise  frightful  ideas  of  death,  which 
have  never  entered  the  mind  but  amidst  num- 
berless hurries  of  necessary  business,  or 
countless  objects  of  deceitful  pleasures ;  ideas 
of  a  death,  that  has  been  always  considered  at 
a  distance,  though  so  many  voices  have  an- 
nounced its  approach;  but  the  approach  of 
which  now  astonishes,  benumbs,  and  renders 
motionless.  There,  the  illness  increases, 
pains  raidtiply,  agonies  convulse,  the  whole 
soul,  full  of  intolerable  sensations,  loses  the 
power  of  seeing  and  hearing,  thinldng  and 
reflecting.  Here  are  medicines  more  intole- 
rable than  the  malady,  operations  more  vio- 
lent tlian  the  agonies  which  they  are  design- 
ed to  allay.  There,  conscience,  for  the  first 
time,  enlightened,  awakened,  and  alarmed, 
rolls  in  tides  of  remorse  ;  the  terrible  remem- 
brance of  a  life  spent  in  sin ;  an  army  of  ir- 
refragable witnesses,  from  all  parts  arising, 
prove  the  guilt,  and  denounce  a  sentence  of 
death  on  the  departing  soul.  See  now,  whe- 
ther this  first  reflection,  which  authorizes  our 
endeavours  to  comfort  and  invigorate  your 
pouls,  when  ye  have  deferred  your  conversion 
to  your  last  hour,  be  inconsistent  with  those 
which  we  use  to  terrify  and  alarm  you,  when 
ye  obstinately  put  off"  your  repentance  to  that 
time. 

It  is  true,  '  God's  thoughts  are  not  our 
thoughts,'  and  we  have  neither  a  sufficient 
knowledge  of  other  people's  hearts,  nor  of 
our  own,  to  affirm  with  certainty  when  their 
faculties  arc  entirely  contaminated  :  but  yet, 
'  our  God  is  a  consuming  fire.'  Wc  know 
men,  to  whom  the  truth  is  become  unintelligi- 
ble, in  consequence  of  the  disguise  in  which 
they  have  taken  the  pains  to  clothe  it ;  and 
who  have  accustomed  themselves  to  palliate 
vice,  till  they  are  become  incapable  of  per- 
ceiving its  turpitude. 

'  God's  thoughts  arc  not  our  thoughts,'  it 
is  true  ;  and  we  have  seen  some  examples  of 
people,  who  have  proved,  since  their  recovery 
that  they  were  truly  converted  in  sickness, 
and  on  whose  account  we  presume  that  others 
may  possibly  be  converted  by  the  same 
mean :  but  yet '  our  God  is  a  consuming  fire.' 
How  rare  are  these  examples !  Does  this  re- 
quire proof.'  Must  we  demonstrate  it  ?  Ye 
are  our  proofs :  ye,  yourselves,  are  our  de- 
monstrations. Who  of  you,  (1  speak  of  those 
who  are  of  mature  age)  Who  of  you  has  not 
been  sick,  and  thought  himself  in  danger  of 
death  ?  Who  has  not  made  resolutions  in  that 
distressing  hour,  and  promised  God  to  reform? 
Tlie  law  of  these  exercises  forbids  certain  de- 
tails, and  prohibits  the  naming  of  my  hearers  : 
but  I  appeal  to  your  consciences,  and,  if  your 
consciences  be  asleep,  I  appeal  to  the  immor- 
tal God.  How  many  of  you  have  deposited 
your  resolutions  with  us,  and  have  .solemnly 
engaged  to  renounce  the  world  with  all  its 
sinful  maxims  .'  How  many  of  you  have  im- 
posed upon  us  by  appearances  of  conversion, 
and  have  imposed  upon  yourselves  too  ?  How 
many  of  you  should  we  have  alleged  as  new 
examples  of  death-bed  conversions  if  God 
had  not  granted  you  a  recovery  ?  Arc  ye  con- 
verted indeed  ?  Have  ye  renounced  the  world 
and  its  maxims  ?    Ah  I    were  we  to  judge  by 


the  conduct  of  those  who  have  recovered,  of 
the  state  of  tlioso  who  are  dead     .... 
My  brethren,  I  dare  not  examine  the  matter, 
but  I  leave  it  to  your  meditation. 

It  is  true,  'God's  thoughts  are  not  our 
thoughts;'  and  God  works  miracles  in  reH 
gion  as  well  as  in  nature  :  but  yet,  '  our  God 
is  a  consuming  fire.'  Who  can  assure  him- 
self, that  having  abused  common  grace,  ho 
shall  obtain    extraordinary  assistances  ? 

It  is  true,  '  God's  thoughts  are  not  our 
thoughts  ;'  and  there  is  nothing  in  the  holy 
Scriptures,  which  empowers  us  to  shut  the 
gates  of  heaven  against  a  dying  penitent ;  we 
have  no  authority  to  tell  you,  that  there  ia 
no  more  hope  for  you,  but  that  ye  are  lost 
without  remedy :  But  yet, '  our  God  is  a  con- 
suming fire.'  There  are  hundreds  of  passa- 
ges in  our  Bibles,  which  authorize  us — what 
am  I  saying  .'  there  are  hundreds  of  passages 
that  command  us,  under  the  penalty  of  suf- 
fering all  the  punishments  that  belong  to  the 
crime,  not  to  conceal  any  thing  from  the  crim- 
inal :  there  are  hundreds  of  passages  which 
empower  and  enjoin  us  to  warn  you;  you, 
who  are  fifty  years  of  age  ;  you  who  are  sixty; 
you  who  are  fourscore:  that  still  to  put  off"  the 
work  of  your  conversion,  is  a  madness,  an 
excess  of  inflexibility  and  indolence,  which 
all  the  flames  of  hell  can  never  expiate. 

To  conclude.  This  is  an  article,  of  which 
we,  your  pastors,  hope  to  give  a  good  account 
to  God,  however  unworthy  we  are  of  his 
approbation.  How  often  have  we  represented 
the  danger  of  your  procrastinations.?  Ye 
walls  of  this  church  !  were  ye  capable  of  giv- 
ing evidence,  we  would  take  you  to  witness. 
But  we  appeal  to  you,  ye  sermons,  that  have 
been  preached  in  this  assembly!  ye  shall  be  re- 
collected in  that  great  day,  in  which  each  of 
our  hearers  shah  give  an  account  of  the  use 
that  he  has  made  of  you.  Ye  consciences, 
that  have  heard  our  directions !  ye  shall  bear 
witness.  Ye  gainsayers  !  ye  yourselves  shall, 
bear  witness,  yc  who,  by  reversing  those 
ideas  which  the  gospel  gives  us  of  the  mer- 
cy of  God,  have  so  often  pretended  to  ob- 
scure those  which  we  have  endeavoured  ta 
give  of  his  justice  and  vengeance :  '  We  are: 
pure  from  your  blood,  we  have  not  shunned 
to  declare  unto  you  all  the  comisel  of  God,' 
Acts  XX.  2G,  27.  When  we  stand  at  his  tri- 
bunal, and,  under  a  sense  of  the  weakness 
with  which  our  ministry  was  accompanied, 
say  to  him,  '  Enter  not  into  judgment  with 
thy  servants,  O  Lord !'  Vs.  cxliii.  3.  Each 
of  us  Avill  venture  to  add,  with  a  view  to  the 
iniportunity  that  had  been  used  to  prevail 
with  you  to  improve  your  precious  moments, 
'  I  have  preached  righteousness  in  the  great 
congregation;  lo,  I  have  not  refrained  my 
lips,  O  Lord,  thou  knowest.  Withhold  not 
thou  thy  tender  mercies  from  me,  O  Lord,'' 
Ps.  xl.  9.  11.  '  I  have  spent  my  strength  for 
nought,  and  in  vain  ;  yet  surely  my  judgment 
is  with  the  Lord,  and  my  work  with  my 
God,'  Isa.  xlix.  4. 

O  !  may  God  animate  us  with  more  noble 
motives !  God  grant,  not  that  the  eternal 
misery  of  our  hearers  may  be  the  apology  of 
our  ministry,  Pliil.  iv.  1 ;  but  that  ye  may 
bo  our  'joy  and  crowu  in  the  day  of  Christ !' 
Amen.  chap.  1.  10. 


SERMON   X. 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  GOD  WITH  WICKED  NATIONS. 


Genesis  xv.  16. 
The  iniquity  of  the  Amorites  is  not  yet  full. 


It  is  a  shocking  disposition  of  mind,  which 
Solomon  describes  in  that  well-known  pas- 
eage  in  Ecclesiastes :  '  Because  sentence 
against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily; 
therefore  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully 
Bet  in  them  to  do  evil,'  chap.  viii.  11.  It 
seems,  at  first  sight,  as  if  the  Wise  Man  had 
rather  exceeded  in  his  portrait  of  the  human 
heart ;  or  that,  if  there  were  any  originals, 
they  could  only  be  a  few  monsters,  from 
whose  souls  were  eradicated  all  the  seeds  of 
religion  and  piety,  as  well  as  every  degree  of 
reason  and  humanity.  God  is  patient  to- 
wards all  who  offend  him  ;  then,  let  us  offend 
him  without  remorse,  let  us  try  the  utmost 
extent  of  his  patience.  God  lifts  over  our 
heads  a  mighty  hand,  armed  with  lightnings 
and  thunderbolts,  but  this  hand  is  usually 
suspended  awhile  before  it  strikes ;  then  let 
us  dare  it  while  it  delays,  and  till  it  move  to 
crush  us  to  pieces  let  us  not  respect  it. 
What  a  disposition  !  What  a  shocking  dispo- 
sition of  mind,  is  this,  my  brethren  ! 

But  let  us  rend  the  veils  with  which  we 
conceal  ourselves  from  ourselves  ;  let  us  pene- 
trate those  secret  recesses  of  our  consciences, 
into  which  we  never  enter  but  when  we  are 
forced  ;  let  us  go  to  the  bottom  of  a  heart  na- 
turally '  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  des- 
perately wicked,'  and  we  shall  find  that  this 
disposition  of  mind  which  at  first  sight  in- 
spires us  with  horror,  is  the  disposition ;  of 
whom.'  Of  the  greatest  part  of  this  assembly, 
my  brethren.  Could  we  persist  in  sin  with- 
out the  patience  of  God?  dare  we  live  in 
that  shameful  security,  with  which  the  min- 
isters of  the  living  God  so  justly  reproach  us, 
if  God  had  authorized  them  to  cry  in  our 
streets,  '  Yet  forty  days,  yet  forty  days .'' 
Jonah  iii.  Had  we  seen  Ananias  and  Sap- 
phira  fall  at  St.  Peter's  feet,  as  soon  as  they 
'  kept  back  part  of  the  price  of  their  posses- 
sion,' Acts  V.  i.  2:  in  a  word,  could  we  have 
the  madness  to  add  sin  to  sin,  if  we  were 
really  convinced,  that  God  entertained  the 
formidable  design  of  bearing  with  us  no  long- 
er, but  of  precipitating  us  into  the  gulfs  of 
hell  on  tiie  very  first  act  of  rebellion  ?  Why 
then  do  we  rebel  every  day .'  It  is  for  the 
reason  alleged  by  the  Wise  Man :  it  is  be- 
cause sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not 
executed  speedily:  '  Because  sentence  against 
an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily ;  there- 
fore tiic  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set 
in  them  to  do  evil.' 

I  intend  to-day,  my  brethren,  to  endeavour 
to  dissipate  the  dark  clouds,  with  which  your 
security  obscures  the  designs  of  a  patient 
God,   who  has  been   patient  towards  you, 


'long  suffering  towards  all,'  2  Pet.  iii.  9f 
and  who  is  exercising  his  patience  towards 
you  this  day.  But  who  can  tell  how  much 
longer  he  intends  to  bear  with  you  .'  Let  us 
enter  into  the  matter.  I  design  to  consider 
our  text  principall)'^  with  a  view  to  '  the  rich- 
es of  the  forbearance,  and  long-suffering  of 
God,'  Rom.  ii.  4 ;  for  it  treats  of  a  mystery 
of  justice  which  interests  all  mankind.  God 
bears  with  the  most  wicked  nations  a  long 
while ;  and,  having  borne  a  long  while  with 
the  rebellion  of  ancestors,  bears  also  a  long 
while  with  that  of  their  descendants ;  but,  at 
length,  collecting  the  rebellion  of  both  into 
one  point  of  vengeance,  he  punishes  a  peo- 
ple who  have  abused  his  patience,  and  pro- 
portions his  punishment  to  the  length  of 
time  which  had  been  granted  to  avert  them. 

All  these  solemn  truths  are  included  in  the 
sententious  words  of  the  text:  '  The  iniquity 
of  the  Amorites  is  not  yet  full.'  I  hasten  to 
explain  them  in  order  to  employ  the  most  of 
the  precious  moments  of  attention,  with 
which  ye  deign  to  favour  me,  in  deriving  such 
practical  instructions  from  them  as  they  af- 
ford. Promote  our  design,  my  dear  brethren. 
Let  not  tlie  forbearance,  which  the  love  of 
God  now  affords  you,  '  set  your  hearts  fully 
to  do  evil.'  And  thou,  O  almighty  and  long- 
suffering  God  !  whose  treasures  of  forbear- 
ance perhaps  this  nation  may  have  already 
exhausted !  O  thou  just  avenger  of  sin ! 
who  perhaps  mayest  be  about  to  punish  our 
crimes,  now  ripe  for  vengeance,  O  suspend 
its  execution  till  we  make  some  profound  re- 
flections on  the  objects  before  us  !  O  let  the 
ardent  prayers  of  our  Abrahams,  and  of  our 
Lots,  prevail  with  thee  to  lengthen  the  for- 
bearance which  thou  hast  already  exercised 
towards  this  church,  these  provinces,  and 
every  sinner  in  this  assembly  !     Amen. 

*  The  iniquity  of  the  Amorites  is  not  yet 
full.'  These  words  were  addressed  to  Abra- 
ham by  God  himself  He  had  just  before  giv- 
en him  a  victory  over  five  kings,  and  had 
promised  him  blessings  more  glorious  than  all 
those  which  he  had  received  before.  He  had 
said  to  him,  '  Fear  not,  I  am  thy  shield,  and 
thine  exceeding  great  reward,'  Gen.  xv.  1, 
2.  4,  5.  13.  But  the  patriarch  thought  that 
these  great  promises  could  not  be  accomplish- 
ed,, because  he  had  no  posterity,  and  was  far 
advanced  in  age.  God  relieves  him  from 
this  fear,  by  promising  hun  not  only  a  son, 
but  a  posterity,  which  should  equal  the  stars 
of  heaven  in  number,  and  should  possess  a 
country  as  extensive  as  their  wants  :  but  at 
the  same  time  he  told  him,  that,  before  the 
accomi)lishment  of  these  promises,  his  seed 


Ser.  X.] 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  GOD. 


115 


shonld  be  either  strangers  in  the  land  of  Ca- 
naan, the  conquest  of  which  should  be  reserv- 
gd  for  them,  or  subject  to  the  Egyptians  for 
the  space  of  four  hundred  years :  that,  at  the 
expiration  of  that  period,  they  should  quit 
their  slavery,  laden  with  the  spoils  of  Egypt : 
that,  '  in  the  fourth  generation,'  they  should 
return  into  the  land  of  Canaan,  where  Abra- 
ham dwelt,  when  the  Lord  addressed  tiiese 
words  to  him  ;  that  then  they  should  con- 
quer the  country,  and  should  be  the  minis- 
ters of  God's  vengeance  on  the  Canaanites, 
whose  abominations  even  now  deserved  se- 
vere punishments,  but  which  God  would  at 
present  defer,  because  the  wretched  people 
had  not  yet  filled  up  the  measure  of  their 
crimes. 

This  is  a  general  view  of  our  text  in  con- 
nexion with  the  context.  '  Know  of  a  surety, 
that  thy  seed  shall  be  a  stranger  in  a  land 
that  is  not  theirs,  and  shall  serve  them,  and 
they  shall  afflict  them  four  hundred  years. 
And  also  that  nation  whom  they  shall  serve, 
will  I  judge  ;  and  afterward  shall  they  come 
out  with  great  substance.  And  thou  shalt 
go' to  thy  fathers  in  peace;  thou  shalt  be 
buried  in  a  good  old  age.  But  in  the  fourth 
generation  they  shall  come  hither  again ;  for 
the  iniquity  of  the  Amorites  is  not  yet  full.' 

If  ye  would  understand  these  words  more 
particularly,  attend  to  a  few  remarks,  which 
we  shall  only  mention  in  brief,  because  a  dis- 
cussion of  them  would  divert  our  attention 
too  far  from  the  principal  design  of  this  dis- 
course.* 

We  include  in  the  '  four  hundred  years,' 
mentioned  in  the  context,  the  time  that  the 
Israelites  dwelt  in  Canaan  from  the  birth  of 
Isaac,  and  the  time  which  they  dwelt  in 
Egypt  from  the  promotion  of  Joseph.  In- 
deed, strictly  speaking,  these  two  periods 
contain  four  hundred  and  five,  years.  But 
every  body  knows  that  authors,  both  sacred 
and  profane,  to  avoid  factions,  sometimes 
add  and  sometimes  diminish,  in  their  calcu- 
lations. In  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Exodus, 
ver.  40,  Moses  says,  '  The  children  of  Is- 
rael dwelt  in  Egypt  four  hundred  and  thirty 
years  ;'  but  it  is  beyond  a  doubt,  that  he  uses 
a  concise  way  of  speaking  in  this  passage,  and 
that  the  Seventy  had  reason  for  paraphrasi'"3' 
the  words  thus :  '  The  sojourning  of  the 
children  of  Israel,  in  the  land  of  Canaan, 
and,  in  the  land  of  Egypt  was  four  hundred 
and  thirty  years.'  If  the  reasonableness  of 
this  paraphrase  be  allowed,  there  will  still 
remain  a  difference  of  thirty  years  between 
the  time  fixed  in  Genesis  by  the  Lord  for 
the  conquest  of  Canaan,  and  the  time  men- 
tioned by  Moses  in  Exodus,  but  it  is  easy  to 
reconcile  this  seeming  difference,  for  the 
calculation  in  Genesis  begins  at  the  birth  of 
Isaac,  but  the  other  commences  at  Abra- 
ham's arrival  in  Canaan.  The  reckoning  is 
exact,  for  Abraham  dwelt  twenty-five  years 
in  Canaan  before  Isaac  was  born,  and  there 
were  four  hundred  and  five  years  from  the 
birth  of  Isaac  to  the  departure  out  of  Egypt. 
This  is  the  meaning  of  the  passage  quoted 

*  This  whole  subject  is  treated  at  large  in  Mons. 
sanrin's  xivth  Disseitation  on  the  Bible.  Tom. 
Jrenu 


from  Exodus,  and,  as  it  perfectly  agrees  with 
our  context,  we  shall  conclude  that  this  first 
article  is  sufficiently  explained. 

Our  second  regards  the  meaning  of  tho 
word  generation,  which  is  mentioned  in  the 
context.  This  term  is  equivocal :  sometimes 
it  signifies  the  whole  age  of  each  person  in  a 
succession ;  and  in  this  sense  the  evangelist 
says,  that  '  from  Abraham  to  David  are  four- 
teen generations,'  Matt.  i.  17.  Sometimes  it 
is  put  for  the  whole  duration  of  a  living  mul- 
titude ;  and  in  this  sense  Jesus  Christ  uses  it, 
when  he  says  that  this  generation,  that  is,  all 
his  cotemporaries,  shall  not  pass  axcay ,  till  his 
prophecies  concerning  them  were  fulfilled. 
Sometimes  it  signifies  a  period  often  years; 
and  in  this  sense  it  is  used  in  the  book  of  Ba- 
ruch,  ch.  vi.  2;  the  captivity  in  Babylon 
which  continued  we  know,  seventy  years,  is 
there  said  to  remain  seven  generations. 

We  understand  the  word  now  in  the  first 
sense,  and  we  mean  that  from  the  arrival  of 
the  Israelites  in  Egypt,  to  the  time  of  their 
migration,  there  were  four  successions  :  the 
first  was  the  generation  of  Kohath,  the  son  of 
Levi:  the  second  oi Jlmram.,  the  son  of  Ko- 
hath ;  the  tiiird  was  that  of  Moses  and  Aaron ; 
and  the  fourth  was  that  of  the  children  of  Mo- 
ses and  Aaron,  Ex.  vi.  16.  18.  20,  &c. 

Our  third  observation  relates  to  the  word 
Amorites  in  our  text.  '  The  iniquity  of  the 
Amorites  is  not  yet  full.'  The  word  Jlmorites 
has  two  significations  in  Scripture  ;  a  particu 
lar  and  a  general  meaning.  It  has  a  particu- 
lar meaning  when  it  denotes  the  descendants 
of  Hamor,  the  fourth  son  of  Canaan,  who  first 
inhabited  a  mountainous  country  westward  of 
the  Dead  Sea,  and  afterward  spread  them- 
selves eastward  of  that  sea,  between  the  rivers 
Jabbok,  and  Arnon,  having  dispossessed  the 
Amorites  and  Moabites.  Sihon  and  Og,  two 
of  their  kings  were  defeated  by  Moses,  Gen. 
X.  16  ;  and  Josh.  xii.  23. 

But  the  word  Amorites  is  sometimes  used 
in  a  more  general  sense,  and  denotes  all  the 
inhabitants  of  Canaan.  To  cite  many  proofs 
would  divert  our  attention  too  far  from  our 
principal  design,  let  it  suffice  therefore  to  ob- 
serve, that  we  take  the  word  in  our  text  in 
this  general  meaning. 

But  wiiat  crimes  does  the  Spirit  of  God  in- 
clude'in  the  word  iniquity  ?  '  The  iniquity  of 
tiie  Amorites  is  not  yet  full.'  Here,  my 
brethren,  a  detail  would  be  horrid,  for  so 
great  were  the  excesses  of  these  people,  that 
we  should  in  some  sense  partake  of  their 
crimes,  by  attempting  to  give  an  exact  list  of 
them.  So  excessive  was  the  idolatry  of  the 
Canaanites,  that  they  rendered  the  honours  of 
supreme  adoration  not  only  to  the  most  mean, 
but  even  to  the  most  impure  and  infamous 
creatures.  There  inhumanity  was  so  exces- 
sive that  they  sacrificed  their  own  children  to 
their  gods.  And  so  monstrous  was  their  sub- 
version, not  only  of  the  laws  of  nature  but 
even  of  the  common  irregularities  of  human 
nature,  that  a  vice,  which  must  not  be  named, 
was  openly  practised  :  and,  in  short,  so  scan- 
dalous was  the  depravation  of  religion  and  good 
manners,  that  Moses,  after  he  had  given  the 
Israelites  laws  against  the  most  gross  idolatry, 
against  incest,  against  bestiality,  against 
that  other  crime,  which  our  dismal  circum- 


116 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  GOD. 


[Seh.  X. 


stances  obllgo  U3  to  mention,  in  spite  of  so 
many  reasons  for  avoiding  it ;  Moses,  I  say, 
after  having  forbidden  all  tliese  excesses  to  the 
Israelites,  positively  declares  that  the  Canaan- 
ites  were  guilty  of  them  all :  that  the  earth 
was  weary  of  such  execrable  monsters ;  and 
that  for  these  crimes,  God  had  sent  the  Israel- 
ites to  destroy  them.  '  Defile  not  yourselves,' 
says  he  in  the  book  of  Leviticus,  xviii.  24,  25, 
(after  an  enumeration  of  the  most  shameful 
vices  that  can  be  imagined), '  Defile  not  your- 
selves in  any  of  these  things,  for  in  all  these, 
the  nations  are  defiled  which  I  cast  out  before 
you.  Therefore  I  do  visit  the  iniquity  thereof, 
and  the  land  itself  vomiteth  out  her  inhabit- 
ants,' ver.  30.  And  again  in  the  twelfth  chap- 
ter of  Deuteronomy, '  Take  heed  to  thyself, 
that  thou  be  not  snared  by  following  them, 
after  that  they  be  destroyed  from  before  thee, 
and  that  thou  inquire  not say- 
ing. How  did  these  nations  ....  even 
Bo  will  I  do  likewise.'  Such  were  the  iniqui- 
ties that  God  forbore  to  punish  for  many  ages, 
and  at  last  punished  with  a  severity,  in  appear- 
ance, contrary  to  his  equity :  but  there  is  no- 
thing astonishing  in  it  to  those  who  consult 
the  forementioned  maxim,  that  is,  that  it  is 
equitable  in  God  to  proportion  the  pimishments 
of  guilty  nations  to  the  time  granted  for  their 
repentance. 

We  observe  lastly,  that  though  God  in  his 
infinite  mercy  had  determined  to  bear  four 
hundred  years  longer  with  nations,  unworthy 
of  his  patience,  there  was  one  sin  excepted 
from  this  general  goodness,  there  was  one  of 
their  iniquities  that  drew  down  the  most  for- 
midable preternatural  punishments  upon  those 
who  committed  it,  and  forced  divine  justice  to 
anticipate  by  a  swift  vengeance  a  punishment, 
which,  in  other  cases,  was  deferred  for  four 
whole  ages.  St.  Paul  paints  this  iniquity  in 
the  most  odious  colours  in  the  first  of  Romans, 
and  it  was  constantly  punished  with  death  by 
the  Jews.  Read  with  a  holy  fear  the  nine- 
teenth chapter  of  Genesis.  The  inliabitants 
of  the  cities  of  the  plain  were  possessed  with 
a  more  than  brutal  madness.  Two  angels  in 
human  forms  are  sent  to  deliver  Lot  from  the 
judgments  which  are  about  to  destroy  them. 
The  amiable  borrowed  forms  of  these  intelli- 
gences strike  the  eyes  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Sodom,  and  excite  their  abominable  propen- 
sities to  sin.  A  crowd  of  people,  young  and 
old,  instantly  surround  tlie  house  of  Lot, 
in  order  to  seize  the  celestial  messengers,  and 
to  offer  violence  to  them,  and  though  they  are 
stricken  blind  they  persist  in  feeling  for  doors 
which  they  cannot  see.  Sodom  and  Gomor- 
rah, Admah  and  Zcboim,  being  inhabited  by 
none  but  people  of  this  abominable  kind,  are 
all  given  up  to  the  vengeance  due  to  their 
crimes.  '  The  Lord  raineth  fire  and  brimstone 
from  the  Lord,'  Gen.  xix.  24.  The  brimstone 
enkindled  penetrates  so  far  into  the  veins  of 
bitumen,  and  oilier  inflammable  bodies  of 
which  the  ground  is  full,  that  it  forms  a  lake, 
denominated  in  Scrii)ture  the  Dead  Sea  ;  and, 
to  use  the  words  of  an  apocryphal  writer, 
'  the  waste  land  that  smoketh,  and  plants  bear- 
ing fruit  that  never  come  to  ripeness,  are 
even  to  this  day  a  testimony  of  the  wicked- 
ness of  the  five  cities.'  Wis.  x.  7.  In  vain 
had  Lot '  vexed  his  righteous  soul  from  day  to 


day;'  2  Pet.  ri.  8.  In  vain  had  Abraham 
availed  himself  of  all  the  interest  that  piety  » 
gave  him  in  the  compassion  of  a  merciful  God ;  1 
in  vain  had  the  abundance  of  his  fervent  be- 
nevolence  said,  '  Behold  now,  I  have  taken 
upon  me  to  speak  unto  the  Lord,  who  am  but 
dust  and  ashes :  Wilt  thou  also  destroy  the 
righteous  with  the  wicked .''  Peradventure 
there  be  fifty  righteous  within  the  city ;  per- 
adventure forty  ;  peradventure  twenty ;  per- 
adventure ten :'  Gen.  xviii.  27.  23,  &c.  The 
decree  of  divine  vengeance  must  be  executed. 
'  Be  wise  now  therefore,  O  ye  kings  ;  be  in- 
structed, ye  judges  of  the  earth,'  Ps.  ii.  10. 
God  grant  that  ye  may  never  know  any  thing 
more  of  these  terrible  executions  than  what 
ye  learn  from  the  history  just  now  related  ! 

I  return  to  my  subject,  except  to  that  part 
of  it  last  mentioned,  the  sin  of  the  cities  of 
the  plain.  The  iniquities  of  the  Canaanites 
were  suffered  for  more  than  four  hundred 
years ;  so  long  would  God  defer  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Amorites  by  Israel,  because  till 
then  their  iniquity  would  not  have  attair  3d 
its  height.  And  why  would  he  defer  the 
destruction  of  these  miserable  people  tiU  their 
iniquities  should  have  attained  their  height .' 
This,  as  we  said  in  the  beginning,  is  the  sub- 
ject upon  which  we  are  going  to  fix  your  at- 
tention. God  exercises  his  patience  long  to- 
wards the  most  wicked  people  ;  having  borne 
with  the  rebellion  of  ancestors,  he  bears  with 
the  rebellion  of  their  posterity,  and  whole 
ages  pass  without  visible  punishment :  but,  at 
length,  collecting  the  rebellions  of  parents 
and  children  into  one  point  of  vengeance,  he 
poureth  out  his  indignation  on  whole  nations 
that  have  abused  his  patience  ;  and,  as  I  ad- 
vanced before,  and  think  it  nesessary  to  repeat 
again,  he  proportioneth  his  vindictive  visita- 
tions to  the  length  of  time  that  had  been 
granted  to  avert  them.  '  I  will  judge  that  na- 
tion whom  thy  descendants  shall  serve,  but  it 
shall  be  in  the  fourth  generation,  because  the 
iniquity  of  the  Amorites  is  not  yet  full.' 

The  remaining  time  with  which  ye  conde- 
scend yet  to  favour  me,  I  shall  employ  in  con- 
sidering, 

I.  The  nature  of  this  economy. 

II.  The  goodness  and  justice  which  charac- 
terize it. 

III.  The  terrors  that  accompany  it. 

IV.  The  relation  which  it  bears  to  our  own 
dismal  circumstances. 

Let  us  consider,  I.  The  nature  of  this  eco- 
nomy. Recollect  an  observation  that  has 
been  made  by  most  of  those  who  have  laid 
down  rules  to  assist  us  in  reasoning  justly. 
That  is,  that  we  are  sometimes  to  consider  a 
nation  in  a  moral  light,  as  a  person,  consisting 
of  a  body,  a  soul,  and  a  duration  of  life.  All 
the  people  who  compose  this  nation  are  con- 
sidered as  one  body  :  the  maxims  which  di- 
rect its  conduct  in  peace  or  in  war,  in  com- 
merce or  in  religion,  constitute  what  we  call 
the  spirit,  or  soul  of  this  body.  The  ages  of  its 
continuance  arc  considered  as  the  duration  of 
its  life.  This  parallel  might  be  easily  enlarged. 

Upon  this  principle,  we  attribute  to  those 
who  compose  a  nation  now,  what,  properly 
speaking,  agrees  only  with  those  who  formerly 
composed  it.  Thus  we  say  that  the  same  na- 
tion \\"as  delivered  from  bondage  in  Eg}'pt  in 


Skh.  X.] 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  GOD. 


117 


the  reign  of  Pharaoh,  which  was  delivered 
from  slavery  in  Babylon  in  the  reign  of  Cyrus. 
In  the  same  sense,  Jesus  Christ  tells  the  Jews 
of  his  time,  '  Moses  gave  you  not  that  bread 
from  heaven,'  John  vi.  32  ;  not  that  the  same 
persons  who  had  been  delivered  from  Egypt 
were  delivered  from  Babylon  ;  nor  that  the 
Jews  to  whom  Moses  had  given  manna  in  the 
desert  were  the  same  to  whom  Jesus  Christ 
gave  bread  from  heaven  -.  but  because  tlie 
Jews  who  lived  under  the  reign  of  Cyrus, 
and  those  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Pharaoh, 
those  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Moses,  and 
those  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Jesus  Christ, 
were  considered  as  different  parts  of  that 
moral  body,  called  the  Jewish  nation. 

On  this  principle  (and  this  has  a  direct 
view  to  our  subject)  we  attribute  to  this 
whole  body,  not  only  those  physical,  but  even 
those  moral  actions,  which  belong  only  to  one 
part  of  it.  We  ascribe  the  praise,  or  the  blame 
of  an  action  to  a  nation,  thougli  those  who 
performed  it  have  been  dead  many  ages.  We 
eay  that  the  Romans,  who  had  courage  to  op- 
pose even  the  shadow  of  tyranny  under  their 
copsuls,  had  the  meanness  to  adore  tyrants 
under  their  emperors.  And  what  is  still  more 
remarkable,  we  consider  that  part  of  a  nation 
which  continues,  responsible  for  the  crimes  of 
that  which  subsists  no  more. 

A  passage  in  the  gospel  of  St.  Luke  will 
clearly  illustrate  our  meaning.  '  Wo  unto 
you  :  for  ye  build  the  sepulchres  of  tlie  pro- 
phets, and  your  fathers  killed  them  ;  and  ye 
say,  If  we  had  been  in  the  days  of  our  fathers, 
we  would  not  have  been  partakers  with  them 
in  the  blood  of  the  prophets.  Truly  ye  bear 
witness,  that  ye  allow  the  deeds  of  your  fa- 
thers :  for  they  indeed  killed  them,  and  ye 
build  their  sepulchres.  Therefore  also  said 
the  wisdom  of  God,  I  will  send  them  prophets 
and  apostles,  and  some  of  them  they  sliall 
slay  and  persecute  :  that  the  blood  of  all  the 
prophets,  which  was  shed  from  the  foundation 
of  the  world,  may  be  required  of  this  genera- 
tion ;  from  the  blood  of  Abel,  unto  the  blood 
of  Zacharias,  which  perished  between  the  al- 
tar and  the  temple  :  verily  I  say  unto  you,  It 
shall  be  required  of  this  generation,'  Luke  xi. 
47  ;  Matt,  xxiii.  30. 

We  will  not  inquire  now  what  Zacharias  is 
here  spoken  of.  Interpreters  are  not  agreed. 
Some  say  it  is  the  same  person  who  is  spoken 
of  in  the  second  book  of  Chronicles,  who  was 
extraordinarily  raised  up  to  stem  that  torrent 
of  corruption  with  whicli  the  Jews  were  car- 
ried away  after  the  death  of  the  high  priest 
Jehoiada,  2  Chron.  xxiv.  20,  21.  He  succeed- 
ed his  father  Jehoiada  in  his  zeal,  and  fell  a 
victim  for  it,  for  he  was  stoned  to  death  in  the 
porch  of  tlie  temple,  by  those  whom  he  en- 
deavoured to  reform.  Others  say  tJiat  it  is  a 
Zacharias,  mentioned  by  the  historian  Jose- 
phus,*  whose  virtue  rendered  him  formidable 
to  those  madmen,  who  are  known  by  the 
name  of  zealots  ;  they  charged  him  unjustly 
with  the  most  shocking  crimes,  and  put  him  to 
death  as  if  he  had  actually  committed  them. 
A  third  opinion  is,  that  it  is  he  whom  we  call 
one  of  the  lesser  prophets.  But  not  to  detain 
3'ou  on  this  subject,  which  perhaps  may  not 

*  Bell.  Jud.  iv.  19. 


be  easily  determined,  we  may  observe  in  our 
Saviour's  words  the  manner  of  considering  a 
nation  as  a  moral  person,  who  is  responsible 
at  one  time  for  crimes  committed  at  another, 
who  has  been  borne  with,  but  has  abused 
that  forbearance,  and,  at  length,  is  punished 
both  for  committing  the  crimes,  and  for  abu- 
sing the  forbearance  that  had  been  granted. 
'  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  upon  you  shall  come 
all  the  righteous  blood  shed  upon  the  earth, 
from  the  blood  of  righteous  Abel,  unto  the 
blood  of  Zacharias,  whom  ye  slew  between 
the  temple  and  the  altar.' 

The  Amorites  in  my  text  must  be  consider- 
ed, in  like  manner,  as  a  moral  person,  whose 
life  God  had  resolved,  when  he  spoke  to  Abra- 
ham, to  prolong  four  hundred  years  ;  who,  du- 
ring tiiat  four  hundred  years,  would  abuse 
his  patience  ;  and  at  last  would  be  punish- 
ed for  all  the  crimes  which  should  be  commit- 
ted in  that  long  period.  '  And  that  nation 
whom  they  shall  serve  will  I  judge  :  but  in 
the  fourth  generation  they  shall  come  hither 
again  ;  for  the  iniquity  of  tiie  Amorites  is  not 
yet  full.'  This  is  the  nature  of  this  economy 
of  Providence.  We  shall  see,  in  a  second 
article,  the  perfections  of  God  which  shine  in 
it ;  and,  in  particular,  that  goodness,  and  that 
justice,  which  eminently  characterize  all  his 
actions. 

II.  It  is  extremely  easy  to  distinguish  the 
goodness  of  this  economy,  and,  as  we  are  un- 
der a  necessity  of  abridging  our  subject,  we 
may  safel}'  leave  this  article  to  your  own  medi- 
tation. To  exercise  patience  four  hundred 
years  towards  a  people  who  worshipped  the 
most  infamous  creatures  ;  a  people  who  sac- 
rificed human  victims  ;  a  people  abandoned  to 
the  most  enormous  crimes ;  to  defer  the  ex- 
tinction of  such  a  people  for  four  hundred 
years,  could  only  proceed  from  the  goodness 
of  that  God,  who,  '  is  longsuffering  to  us- 
ward,  not  willing  that  any  should  perish,  but 
tliat  all  should  come  to  repentance,'  2  Pet.  iii.  9. 
It  is  more  difficult  to  discover  the  justice  of 
God  in  this  economy.  What  I  the  Jews,  who 
lived  in  the  time  of  Jesus  Christ,  could  they 
be  justly  punished  for  murders  committed  so 
many  ages  before  their  birth  .'  What !  Could 
they  be  responsible  for  the  blood  of  the  pro- 
phets, in  which  their  hands  had  never  been 
imbrued  .'  What !  Could  God  demand  an  ac- 
count of  all  this  blood  of  them  ?  How  !  The 
Canaanites  of  Joshua's  time,  ought  they  to  bo 
jiunished  for  all  the  abominations  of  four  hun- 
dred years  ?  What !  Ought  we  to  terrify  you 
to-day,  not  only  with  your  own  sins,  but  with 
all  those  that  have  been  committed  in  your 
provinces  from  the  moment  of  their  first  set- 
tlement ? 

I  answer,  If  that  part  of  a  nation  which 
subsists  ill  one  period  has  no  union  of  time 
with  tliat  which  subsisted  in  another  period, 
it  may  have  a  uniim  of  another  kind,  it  may 
have  even  four  diflerent  unions,  an}'  one  of 
whicli  is  sufhcient  to  justify  Providence : 
there  is  a  union  of  interest  ;  a  union  of  appro- 
bat  io7i ;  a  union  of  emutation;  and  (if  ye  will 
allow  the  expression)  a  union  of  accumulation. 
A  union  of  interest,  if  it  avail  itself  of  the 
crimes  of  its  predecessors  ;  a  union  of  appro- 
bation, if  it  applaud  the  shameful  causes  of  its 
prosperity  ;  a  union  of  emulation,  if  it  follow 


118 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  GOD. 


[Sen.  X, 


«uch  examples  as  ought  to  be  detested ;  a 
union  of  accumulation,  if,  instead  of  making 
amends  for  these  faults,  it  rewards  the  deprav- 
ity of  those  who  commit  them.  In  all  these 
cases,  God  inviolably  maintains  the  laws  of 
his  justice  ;  when  he  unites  in  one  point  of 
vengeance  the  crimes  which  a  nation  is  com- 
mitting now,  with  those  which  were  commit- 
ted many  ages  before,  and  pours  out  those 
judgments  on  the  part  that  remains,  which 
that  had  deserved  who  had  lived  many  ages 
ago.  Yes,  if  men  peaceably  enjoy  the  usur- 
pations of  their  ancestors,  they  are  usurpers, 
as  their  predecessors  were,  and  the  justice  of 
God  may  make  these  responsible  for  the 
usurpations  of  those.  Thus  it  was  with  the 
Jews,  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Jesus  Christ : 
thus  it  was  with  the  Amorites  who  lived  four 
hundred  years  after  those  of  whom  God  spake 
to  Abraham :  and  thus  we  must  expect  it  to 
be  with  us,  for  we  also  shall  deserve  the  pun- 
ishments due  to  our  ancestors,  if  we  have  any 
one  of  the  unions  with  them  which  has  been 
mentioned.  Your  meditation  will  supply 
what  is  wanting  to  this  article. 

It  sometimes  falls  out  in  this  economy, 
that  the  innocent  suffer  while  the  guilty  es- 
cape :  but  neither  this,  nor  any  other  incon- 
venience that  may  attend  this  economy,  is  to 
be  compared  with  the  advantages  of  it.  The  ob- 
ligation of  a  citizen  to  submit  to  the  decision  of 
an  ignorant,  or  a  corrupt  judge,  is  an  inconveni- 
ence in  society  :  however,  this  inconvenience 
ought  not  to  free  other  men  from  submitting 
to  decisions  at  law  ;  because  the  benefits  that 
society  derive  from  a  judicial  mode  of  decision, 
will  exceed,  beyond  all  comparison,  the  evils 
that  may  attend  the  perversion  of  justice  in  a 
very  few  cases.  Society  would  be  in  contin- 
ual confusion,  were  the  members  of  it  allow- 
ed sometimes  to  resist  the  decisions  of  their 
lawful  judges.  Private  disputes  would  never 
end  ;  public  quarrels  would  be  eternal ;  and 
administration  of  justice  would  be  futile  and 
useless. 

Beside,  Providence  has  numberless  ways  of 
remedying  the  inconveniences  of  this  just 
economy,  and  of  indemnifying  all  those  inno- 
cent persons  who  may  be  involved  in  punish- 
ments due  to  the  guilty.  If,  when  Godsends 
fruitful  seasons  to  a  nation  to  reward  their 
good  use  of  the  fruits  ofthe  earth,  an  individual 
destitute  of  virtue,  reap  the  benefit  of  those 
who  are  virtuous,  an  infinitely  wise  Provi- 
dence can  find  ways  to  poison  all  his  pleasures, 
and  to  prevent  his  enjoyment  of  the  prosper- 
ity of  the  just.  If  an  innocent  person  be  in- 
volved in  a  national  calamity,  an  infinitely 
wise  Providence  knows  how  to  indemnify 
liim  for  all  that  he  may  sacrifice  to  that  jus- 
tice, which  requires  that  a  notoriously  wicked 
nation  should  become  a  notorious  example  of 
God's  abhorrence  of  wickedness. 

Having  established  these  principles,  let  us 
apply  them  to  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ, 
which  were  just  now  quoted,  and  to  the 
text. 

The  Jewish  nation,  considered  in  the  just 
light  of  a  moral  person,  was  guilty  of  an  innu- 
merable multitude  of  the  most  atrocious 
crimes.  It  had  not  only  not  profited  by  the 
earnest  exhortations  of  those  extraordinary 
men,  whom  heaven  liad  riiised  up  to  rectify 


its  mistakes,  and  to  reform  its  morals  :  but  it 
had  risen  up  against  them  as  enemies  of  soci- 
ety, who  came  to  trouble  the  peace  of  man- 
liind.  When  they  had  the  courage  faithfully  to 
reprove  the  excesses  of  its  princes,  they  were 
accused  of  opposing  the  regal  authority  itself; 
when  they  ventured  to  attack  errors,  that 
were  in  credit  with  the  ministers  of  religion, 
they  were  taxed  with  resisting  religion  itself; 
and,  under  these  pretences  they  were  fre- 
quently put  to  death.  Witness  the  prophets 
Isaiah  and  Jeremiah,  the  apostle  St.  James, 
and  Jesus  Christ  himself 

God  had  often  exhorted  that  nation  to  re- 
pent, and  had  urged  the  most  tender  and  the 
most  terrible  motives  to  repentance :  one 
while  he  loaded  it  with  benefits,  another 
while  he  threatened  it  with  punishments. 
Sometimes  he  supported  the  authority  of  his 
messages  by  national  judgments ;  sermons 
were  legible  by  lightning,  and  thunder  procu- 
red attention  ;  doctrines  were  reiterated  by 
pestilence  and  famine,  and  exhortations  were 
re-echoed  by  banishment  and  war.  All  these 
means  had  been  ineffectual ;  if  they  had  pro- 
duced any  alteration,  it  had  been  only  an  ap- 
parent or  a  momentary  change  which  had 
vanished  with  the  violent  means  that  pro- 
duced it.  The  Jewish  nation  were  always 
the  same ;  always  a  stiff-necked  nation ; 
always  inimical  to  truth,  and  infatuated  with 
falsehood ;  always  averse  to  reproof,  and 
athirst  for  the  blood  of  its  prophets.  What 
the  Jews  were  in  the  times  of  the  prophets, 
that  they  were  in  the  times  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  his  apostles  ;  they  were  full  as  barbarous 
to  Jesus  Christ  as  to  Zacharias  the  eon  of 
Barachiah. 

A  time  must  come  in  which  divine  justice 
ought  to  prevent  the  fatal  consequences  of  a 
longer  forbearance ;  a  time  in  which  the 
whole  world  must  be  convinced  that  God's 
toleration  of  sinners  is  no  approbation  of  sin  ; 
a  time  when  general  vengeance  must  justify 
Providence,  by  rendering  to  all  the  due  re- 
ward of  their  deeds.  Such  a  time  was  at 
hand  when  Jesus  Christ  spoke  to  the  Jews ; 
and,  foreseeing  the  miseries  that  would  over- 
whelm Judea,  he  told  them  that  God  would 
require  an  account,  not  only  of  the  blood  of 
all  the  prophets  which  they  had  spilt,  but  of 
all  the  murders  that  had  been  committed  on 
the  earth  from  the  death  of  Abel  to  the 
slaughter  of  Zacharias. 

Thus  it  was  with  the  Amorites :  and  thus 
it  will  be  with  your  provinces,  if  ye  avail 
yourselves  of  the  crimes  of  j'our  predeces- 
sors, if  }'e  extenuate  the  guilt  ;  if  ye  imitate 
the  practice,  if  ye  fill  up  the  measure  of 
their  iniquities ;  then  divine  justice,  collect- 
ing into  one  point  of  vengeance  all  the  crimes 
of  the  nation,  will  inflict  punishments  pro- 
portional to  the  time  that  was  granted  to 
avert  them.  Thus  we  have  sufficiently  prov- 
ed the  justice  of  tliis  economy. 

III.  Let  us  remark  the  terrors  that  accom- 
pany this  dispensation.  But  where  can  we 
find  expressions  sufficiently  sad,  or  images 
sufficiently  shocking  and  gloomy  to  describe 
those  terrible  times.'  The  soul  of  Moses  dis- 
solved in  considering  them ;  '  by  thy  wrath 
we  are  troubled ;  thou  hast  set  our  iniquities 
before  thee,  our  secret  sins  in  the  light  of  thy 


Seb.  X.] 


THE  PATIENCE  OF  GOD. 


119 


countenance,'  Ps.  xc.  7,  8.  Every  thing 
that  assuages  the  anger  of  the  Judge  of  the 
world  is  useless  here.  The  exercise  of  prayer, 
that  exercise  which  sinners  have  sometimes 
used  with  success  to  the  suspending  of  the  an- 
ger of  God,to  the  holding  of  his  avenging  arm, 
and  to  the  disarming  him  of  his  vindictive 
rod,  that  e.xercise  has  lost  all  its  efficacy  and 
power  ;  God  '  covereth  himself  with  a  cloud 
that  prayer  cannot  pass  through,'  Lam.  iii. 
44.  The  intercession  of  venerable  men,  who 
have  sometimes  stood  in  the  breach,  and 
turned  away  his  wrath,  cannot  be  admitted 
now ; '  though  Moses  and  Samuel  stood  before 
God,  yet  his  mind  could  not  be  toward  this 
people,'  Jer.  xv.  1.  Those  sanctuaries  which 
have  been  consecrated  to  divine  worship, 
and  which  have  so  often  afforded  refuges  in 
times  of  danger,  have  lost  their  noble  privi- 
lege, and  are  themselves  involved  in  the 
direful  calamity ;  '  The  Lord  casteth  off  his 
altar,  abhorreth  his  sanctuary,  giveth  up  into 
the  hand  of  the  enemy  the  walls  of  her 
palaces,  and  they  make  a  noise  in  the  house 
of  the  Lord  as  in  the  day  of  a  solemn  feast,' 
Lam.  ii.  8.  The  cries  of  children  which 
have  sometimes  melted  down  th^  hearts  of 
the  most  inflexible  enemies,  those  cries  can- 
not now  excite  the  mercy  of  God,  the  inno- 
cent creatures  themselves  fall  victims  to  his 
displeasure ;  '  the  sucklings  swoon  in  the 
streets  of  the  city,  they  say  to  their  mothers. 
Where  is  corn  and  wine  ?  The  hands  of  pi- 
tiful women  seethe  their  own  children,  they 
are  their  meat  in  the  destruction  of  the 
daughter  of  my  people,'  Lam.  ii.  12;  iv.  10. 
The  treasures  of  grace  which  have  been  so 
often  opened  to  sinners,  and  from  which  they 
have  derived  converting  power,  in  order  to 
free  them  from  the  executions  of  justice, 
these  treasures  are  now  quite  exhausted ; 
God  says,  I  will  command  the  clouds  that 
they  rain  no  rain  upon  my  vineyard :  Go, 
make  the  heart  of  this  people  fat,  and  make 
their  ears  heavy,  and  shut  their  eyes ;  lest 
they  see  with  their  eyes,  and  hear  with  their 
ears,  and  understand  with  their  hearts,  and 
convert,  and  be  healed,'  Isa.  v.  6 ;  vi.  9,  10. 
O  God !  thou  consuming  fire  !  O  God,  '  to 
whom  vengeance  belongeth,  how  fearful  a 
thing  is  it  to  fall  into  thy  hands  !'  Deut.  iv. 
14;  Ps.  xciv.  1.  How  dreadful  are  thy  foot- 
steps, when,  in  the  cool  fierceness  of  thine 
indignation,  thou  comest  to  fall  upon  a  sin- 
ner !  '  The  blood  of  all  the  prophets,  which 
was  shed  from  the  foundation  of  the  world, 
shall  be  required  of  this  generation  :  from 
the  blood  of  Abel  to  the  blood  of  Zacharias ; 
verily  I  say  unto  you,  it  shall  be  required  of 
this  generation.' 

IV.  To  conclude.  We  have  proved  that 
there  is  a  fatal  period,  in  which  God  will 
unite  the  sins  of  a  nation  in  one  point  of  ven- 
veance,  and  will  proportion  the  punishments, 
which  he  used  to  exterminate  them,  to  the 
length  of  time  that  he  had  granted  for  pre- 
venting them.  And  from  tliis  principle, 
which  will  be  the  ground  of  our  exhortations 
in  the  close  of  this  discourse,  I  infer,  that 
as  there  is  a  particular  repentance  imposed  on 
every  member  of  society,  so  there  is  a  na- 
tional repentance.which  regards  all  who  com-  , 
pose  a  nation.     The  repentance  of  an  indi-  ^ 


vidual  does  not  consist  in  merely  asking 
pardon  for  his  sins,  and  in  endeavouring  to 
correct  the  bad  habits  that  he  had  formed  ; 
but  it  requires  also,  that  the  sinner  should 
go  back  to  his  first  years,  remember,  as  far 
as  he  can,  the  sins  that  defiled  his  youth,  la- 
ment every  period  of  his  existence,  which, 
having  been  signalized  by  some  divine  fa- 
vour, was  also  signalized  by  some  marks  of 
ingratitude ;  it  requires  him  to  say,  under  a 
sorrowful  sense  of  having  offended  a  kind 
and  tender  God,  '  I  was  shapen  in  iniquity : 
and  in  sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me.  O 
Lord,  remember  not  the  sins  of  my  youth. 
Wilt  thou  break  a  leaf  driven  to  and  fro  ? 
Wilt  thou  pursue  the  dry  stubble.'  Thou 
makest  me  to  possess  the  iniquities  of  my 
youth!'  Ps.  Ii.  5;  Job.  xiii.  25,  26.  In  like 
manner,  the  repentance  of  a  nation  does  not 
consist  in  a  bare  attention  to  present  disor- 
ders, and  to  the  luxury  that  now  cries  to  tha 
Judge  of  the  world  for  vengeance :  but  it  re- 
quires us  to  go  back  to  the  times  of  our  an- 
cestors, and  to  examine  whether  we  be  now 
enjoying  the  wages  of  their  unrighteous- 
ness, and  whether,  while  we  flatter  our- 
selves with  the  opinion,  that  we  have  not 
committed  their  vices,  we  be  not  now  re- 
lishing productions  of  them.  Without  this 
we  shall  be  responsible  for  the  very  vices 
which  they  committed,  though  time  had  al- 
most blotted  out  the  remembrance  of  them  ; 
and  the  justice  of  God  threatened  to  involve 
us  in  the  same  punishments :  '  The  blood  of 
all  the  prophets,  which  was  shed  from  the 
foundation  of  the  world,  shall  be  required  of 
this  generation :  from  the  blood  of  Abel  to 
the  blood  of  Zacharias :  verily  I  say  unto 
you,  it  shall  be  required  of  this  genera- 
tion.' 

Dreadful  thought !  my  brethren.  A  thought 
that  may  very  justly  disturb  that  shameful 
security,  into  which  our  nation  is  sunk.  I 
tremble,  when  I  think  of  some  disorders 
which  my  eyes  have  seen  during  the  course 
of  my  ministry  among  you.  I  do  not  mean 
the  sins  of  individuals,  which  would  fill  a 
long  and  a  very  mortifying  list :  I  mean  pub- 
lic sins,  connnitted  in  the  face  of  the  sun ; 
maxims,  received  in  a  manner,  by  church 
and  state,  and  which  loudly  cry  to  heaven 
for  vengeance  against  this  republic.  In  these 
degenerate  times,  I  have  seen  immorality 
and  infidelity  authorized  by  a  connivance  at 
scandadous  books,  which  are  intended  to 
destroy  the  distinctions  of  vice  and  virtue, 
and  to  make  tlie  difference  between  just  and 
unjust  appear  a  mere  chimera.  In  these  de- 
generate days,  I  have  seen  the  oppressed 
church  cry  in  vain  for  succour  for  her  chil- 
dren, while  the  reformation  of  the  church 
was  sacrificed  to  the  policy  of  the  state.  In 
this  degenerate  age,  I  have  seen  solemn  days 
insolently  profaned  by  those,  whom  worldly 
decency  alone  ought  to  have  engaged  to  ob- 
serve them.  In  these  days  of  depravity,  I 
have  seen  hatred  and  discord  lodge  among 
us,  and  labour  in  the  untoward  work  of  re- 
ciprocal ruin.  In  these  wretched  times,  I 
have  seen  the  spi>it  of  intolerance  unchain- 
ed with  all  its  rage,  and  the  very  men  who 
incessantly  exclaim  against  the  persecutions 
that  have  affected  themselves,  turn  persecu- 


120 


THE  LONGSUFFERING  OF 


[SEn.  xr. 


tors  of  others :  so  that,  at  the  close  of  a  re- 
ligious exercise,  men,  wlio  ought  to  have  re- 
membered wliat  they  had  heard,  and  to  have 
appUed  it  to  themselves,  have  been  known  to 
exercise  their  ingenuity  in  finding  heresy  in 
the  sermon,  in  communicathig  the  same 
wicked  industry  to  their  families,  and  to 
their  children,  and,  under  pretence  of  reli- 
gion, in  preventing  all  the  good  effects  that 
religious  discourses  might  have  produced.  In 

this  degenerate    age 

But  this  shameful  list  is  already  too  long. 
Does  this  nation  repent  of  its  past  sins  ? 
Does  it  lament  the  crimes  of  its  ancestors  ? 
Alas !  far  from  repenting  of  our  past  sins,  far 
from  lamenting  the  crimes  of  our  ancestors, 
does  not  the  least  attention  perceive  new  and 
more  shocking  excesses .'  The  wretched  age 
in  which  providence  has  placed  us,  does  it 
not  seem  to  have  taken  that  for  its  model, 
against  which  God  displayed  his  vengeance, 
Aa  we  have  been  describing  in  this  discourse  .' 


Were  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  Admah  and 
Zeboim,  destroyed  by  fire  from  heaven  for 
sins  unknown  to  us .''  And  God  knows,  God 
only  knows,  what  dreadful  discoveries  the 
formidable  but  pious  vigilance  of  our  magis- 
trates may  still  make.  O  God,  '  Behold  now 
I  have  taken  upon  me  to  speak  unto  thee,  al- 
though I  am  but  dust  and  ashes.  Wilt  thou 
also  destroy  the  rigliteous  with  the  wicked.' 
Peradventure  there  be  fifty  righteous  among 
lis  .•'  peradventure  forty  ?  peradventure  thir- 
ty .''  peradventure  twenty  ?  peradventure 
ten.''    Gen.  xviii.  25,  &c. 

My  brethren,  God  yet  bears  with  you,  but 
how  long  he  will  bear  with  you,  who  can 
tell .'  And  do  not  deceive  yourselves,  his 
forbearance  must  produce,  in  the  end,  either 
your  conversion  your  or  destruction.  TheLord 
grant  it  may  produce  your  conversion  and  '  bo 
iniquity  shall  not  be  your  ruin,'  Ezek.  xviii. 
30.  Amen. 


SERMON   xr. 


THE  LONGSUFFERING  OF  GOD  WITH  INDIVIDUALS. 


EccLESiASTES  viii.  n,  12. 

Because  sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily,  therefore  the 
heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil.  For  the  sinner  doth 
evil  a  hundred  times,  and  God prolongeth  his  days.* 


The  Wise  Man  points  out,  in  the  words  of 
the  text,  one  general  cause  of  the  impeni- 
tence of  mankind.  The  disposition  to  which 
he  attributes  it,  I  own,  seems  shocking  and 
almost  incredible :  but  if  we  examine  our 
'  deceitful  and  desperately  wicked  hearts,' 
Jer.  xvii.  9.  wc  shall  find,  that  this  disposi- 
tion, which  at  first  sight,  seems  so  shocking, 
is  one  of  those,  witirwhich  we  are  too  well 
acquainted.  '  The  heart  of  the  sons  of  men 
is  fuUy  set  to  do  evil.'  Why  .'  '  Because  sen- 
tence against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed 
speedily.' 

This  shameful,  but  too  common,  inclination, 
we  will  endeavour  to  expose,  and  to  show 
you  that  the  long  suffering,  which  the  mercy 
of  God  grants  to  sinners,  may  be  abused  ei- 
ther in  the  disposition  of  a  devil,  or  in  that 
of  a  beast,  or  in  that  of  a  philosopher,  or  in 
that  of  a  man. 

He  who  devotes  his  health,  his  prosperity, 
and  his  youth,  to  offend  God,  and,  while  his 
punishment  is  deferred,  to  invent  new  ways 
of  blaspheming  him  ;  he,  who  follows  such  a 
fhameful  course  of  life,  abuses  the  patience  of 
Gcd  in  the  disposition  of  a  devil. 

He,  who  enervates  and  impairs  his  reason, 
cither  by  excessive  debauchery,  or  by  world- 
ly dissipations,  by  an  effeminate  lu.xury,  or  by 
an  inactive  stupidity,  and  pays  no  regard  to 

*  We  have  followed  the  reading  of  the  French  Bi- 
ble in  this  passage. 


the  great  end  for  which  God  permits  him  to 
live  in  this  world,  abuses  the  patience  of  God 
in  the  disposition  of  a  beast. 

He  who  from  the  longsuffering  of  God 
infers  consequences  against  his  providence, 
and  against  his  hatred  of  sin,  is  in  the  dispo- 
sition, of  which  my  text  speaks,  as  a  philoso' 
p/icr. 

He,  who  concludes  because  the  patience  of 
God  has  continued  to  this  day  that  it  will 
always  continue,  and  makes  such  a  hope  a 
motive  to  persist  in  sin,  without  repentance 
or  remorse,  abuses  the  patience  of  God  in 
the  disposition  of  a  ynan.  As  I  shall  point 
out  these  principles  to  you,  I  shall  show  you 
the  injustice  and  extravagance  of  them. 

I.  To  devote  health,  prosperity,  and  youth, 
to  offend  God,  and  to  invent  new  ways  of 
blaspheming  him,  while  the  punishment  of 
him  who  leads  such  a  shameful  life  is  defer- 
red, is  to  abuse  the  longsuft'ering  of  God  like 
a  devil. 

The  majesty  of  this  place,  the  holiness  of 
my  ministry,  and  the  delicacy  of  my  hearers, 
forbid  precision  on  this  article  ;  for  there 
would  be  a  shocking  impropriety  in  exhibit- 
ing a  well-drawn  portrait  of  such  a  man. 
But,  if  it  is  criminal  to  relate  such  excesses, 
what  must  it  be  to  commit  them  .'  It  is  but 
too  certain,  however,  that  nature  sometimes 
produces  such  infernal  creatures,  who,  witli 
the  bodies  of  men,  have   the  sentiments   of 


Ser.  XL] 


GOD  WITH  INDIVIDUALS. 


131 


devils.  Thanks  be  to  God,  the  characters, 
which  belong  to  this  article,  must  be  taken 
from  other  countries,  though  not  from  ancient 
history. 

I  speak  of  those  abominable  men,  to  whom 
living  and  moving  would  be  intolerable,  were 
they  to  pass  one  day  without  insulting  the 
Author  of  their  life  and  motion.  The  grand 
design  of  all  their  actions  is  to  break  down 
every  boundary,  that  either  modesty,  probity, 
or  even  a  corrupt  and  irregular  conscience 
has  set  to  licentiousness.  They  bitterly  la- 
ment the  paucity  of  the  ways  of  violating 
their  Creator's  laws,  and  they  employ  all  the 
power  of  their  wit,  the  play  of  their  fancy, 
and  the  fire  of  their  youth,  to  supply  the 
want.  Like  that  impious  king,  of  whom  the 
Scripture  speaks,  Dan.  v.  2,  they  carouse 
with  the  sacred  vessels,  and  them  they  pro- 
fanely abuse  in  their  festivity :  them  did  I 
say .'  The  most  solemn  truths,  and  the  most 
venerable  mysteries  of  religion,  they  take 
into  their  polluted  mouths,  and  display  their 
infidelity  and  impurity  in  ridiculing  them. 
They  hurry  away  a  life,  which  is  become  in- 
sipid to  them,  because  they  have  exhausted 
all  resources  of  blasphemy  against  God,  and 
they  hasten  to  hell  to  learn  others  of  the  in- 
fernal spirits,  their  patterns  and  their  pro- 
tectors. 

Let  us  throw  a  veil,  my  brethren,  over 
these  abominations,  and  let  us  turn  away 
our  eyes  from  objects  so  shameful  to  human 
nature.  But  how  comes  it  to  pass,  that  ra- 
tional creatures,  having  ideas  of  right  and 
wrong,  arrive  at  such  a  subversion  of  reason, 
and  such  a  degree  of  corruption,  as  to  be 
pleased  with  a  course  of  life,  which  carries  its 
pains  and  punishments  with  it .' 

Sometimes  this  phenomenon  must  be  at- 
tributed to  a  vicious  education.  We  seldom 
pay  a  sufficient  regard  to  the  influence  that 
education  has  over  the  whole  life.  We  often 
entertain  false,  and  oftener  still  inadequate 
notions  of  what  is  called  a  good  education. 
We  have  given,  it  is  generally  thought,  a 
good  education  to  a  youth,  when  we  have 
taught  him  an  art,  or  trained  him  up  in  a 
science  ;  when  we  have  instructed  him  how 
to  arrange  a  few  dry  words  in  his  head,  or  a 
iev!  crude  notions  in  his  fancy  ;  and  we  are 
highly  satisfied  when  we  have  intrusted  the 
cultivation  of  his  tender  heart  to  a  man  of 
probity.  We  forget  that  the  venom  of  sin 
impregnates  the  air  that  he  breathes,  and 
communicates  itself  to  him  by  all  that  he  sees, 
and  by  all  that  he  hears.  If  we  would  give 
young  people  a  good  education,  we  must  for- 
bid them  all  acquaintance  with  those  who  do 
not  delight  in  decency  and  piety  :  we  must 
never  suffer  them  to  hear  debauciiery  and  im- 
piety spoken  of  without  detestation :  we  must 
furnish  them  with  precautions  previous  to 
their  travels,  in  which  under  pretence  of  ac- 
quainting themselves  with  the  manners  of 
foreigners,  they  too  often  adopt  nothing  but 
their  vices  :  we  must  banish  from  our  univer- 
sities those  shocking  irregularities,  and  anni- 
hilate those  dangerous  privileges,  which  make 
the  means  of  education  the  very  causes 
of  corruption  and  ruin. 

Sometimes  these  excesses  are  owing  to 
the  connivance,  or  the  countenance  of  princes. 


We  have  never  more  reason  to  predict  tho 
destruction  of  a  state  than  when  the  reins  of 
government  are  committed  to  men  of  a  cer* 
tain  character.  It  will  require  ages  to  heal 
the  wounds  of  one  impious  reign.  An  irreli- 
gious reign  emboldens  vice,  and  multiplies 
infamous  places  for  the  commission  of  it.  In 
an  irreligious  reign  scandalous  books  are 
published ;  and  it  becomes  fashionable  to 
question  whether  there  be  a  God  in  heaven, 
or  any  real  difference  between  virtue  and  vice 
on  earth .  In  the  space  of  an  irreligious  reign 
offices  are  held  by  unworthy  persons,  who 
either  abolish,  or  suffer  to  languish,  the  laws 
that  policy  had  provided  against  impiety. 
Histories,  more  recent  than  those  of  Tiberius 
and  Nero,  would  too  fully  exemplify  our  ob- 
servations, were  not  the  majesty  of  princes, 
in  some  sort,  respectable,  even  after  they  are 
no  more. 

Sometimes  these  excesses,  which  offer  vio- 
lence to  nature,  are  caused  by  a  gratification 
of  those  which  are  agreeable  to  the  corrup- 
tion of  nature.  Ordinary  sins  become  in- 
sipid by  habit,  and  sinners  are  forced,  having 
arrived  at  some  periods  of  corruption,  to  en- 
deavour to  satisfy  their  execrable  propensities 
by  the  commission  of  those  crimes,  which 
once  made  them  shudder  with  horror. 

To  all  these  reasons  add  the  judgment  of 
divine  Providence  ;  for  '  God  giveth  those  up 
to  uncleaiiness,'  Rom.  i.  24,  who  have  made 
no  use  of  the  means  of  instruction  and  piety 
which  he  had  afforded  them. 

I  repeat  my  thanksgivings  to  God,  the  pro- 
tector of  these  states,  that  among  our  youth 
(though,  alas  !  so  far  from  that  piety  which 
persons,  dedicated  to  God  by  baptism,  ought 
to  possess,)  we  have  none  of  this  character. 
Indeed,  had  we  such  a  monster  among  us, 
we  should  neither  oppose  him  by  private  ad- 
vice nor  by  public  preaching  :  but  we  should 
think  that  the  arm  of  the  secular  magistrate 
was  a  likelier  mean  of  repulsing  him  than  the 
decision  of  a  casuist.  Let  none  be  offended  at 
this.  Our  ministry  is  a  ministry  of  compas- 
sion, I  grant ;  and  we  are  sent  by  a  master 
who  willeth  not  the  death  of  a  sinner  ;  but,  if 
we  thought  that  compassion  obliged  us  on 
any  occasions  to  implore  your  clemency,  my 
liords,  for  some  malefactors,  whom  your 
wise  laws,  and  the  safety  of  society,  condemn 
to  die,  we  would  rather  intercede  for  assassins, 
and  highway  robbers,  yea  for  those  miserable 
wretches,  whose  execrable  avarice  tempts 
them  to  import  infected  commodities,  which 
expose  our  own  and  our  children's  lives  to 
the  plague  ;  for  these  we  would  rather  inter- 
cede, than  for  those,  whose  dreadful  examples 
are  capable  of  infecting  the  minds  of  our 
children  with  infernal  maxims,  and  of  render- 
ing these  provinces  like  Sodom  and  Go- 
morrah, Adma!)  and  Zeboini,  first  by  involv- 
ing them  in  the  guilt,  and  then  in  the  fiery 
punishment  of  those  detestable  cities. 

Where  the  sword  of  the  magistrate  does 
not  punish,  that  of  divine  vengeance  will  : 
but,  as  it  would  be  difficult  for  imagination  to 
conceive  the  greatness  of  the  punishments 
that  await  such  sinners,  it  is  needless  to  ad- 
duce the  reasons  of  them.  Our  first  notions 
of  God  are  vindictive  to  sucli,and  as  soon  as  wo 
are  convinced  that  there  is  a  just  God,  the 


122 


THE  LONGSUFFERING  OF 


[Ser.  XL 


day  appears  in  which,  falling  upon  these  un- 
worthy men,  he  will  address  them  in  this 
thundering  language :  '  depart,  depart,'  into 
the  source  of  your  pleasures  ;  '  depart  into 
evrlasling  fire'  with  all  your  associates ;  do 
for  ever  and  ever  what  ye  have  been  doing  in 
your  lifetime  ;  having  exhausted  my  patience, 
experience  the  power  of  my  anger  ;  and  as 
ye  have  had  the  dispositions  of  devils,  suffer 
for  ever  the  punishments  '  prepared  for  the 
devil  and  his  angels,'  Matt.  xxv.  41. 

II.  A  man  may  be  in  the  disposition,  of 
which  the  Wise  Man  speaks  in  the  text, 
through  stupidity  and  indolence,  and  this 
second  state  confounds  the  man  with  the 
least.  There  is  nothing  hyperbolical  in  this 
proposition.  What  makes  the  difference  be- 
tween a  man  and  a  beast .''  These  are  the  dis- 
tinguishing characters  of  each.  The  one  is 
confined  to  a  short  duration,  and  to  a  nar- 
row circle  of  present  objects  ;  the  other  has 
received  of  his  Creator  the  power  of  going 
beyond  time,  and  of  penetrating  by  his  medi- 
tation into  remote  futurity,  yea  even  into  an 
endless  eternity.  The  one  is  actuated  only 
by  sensual  appetites  ;  the  other  has  the  facul- 
ty of  rectifying  his  senses  by  the  ideas  of  his 
mind.  The  one  is  carried  away  by  the  heat 
of  his  temperament;  the  other  has  the  power 
of  cooling  temperament  with  reflection.  The 
one  knows  no  argument  nor  motive  but  sen- 
sation ;  the  other  has  the  power  of  making 
motives  of  sensation  yield  to  the  more  noble 
and  permanent  motives  of  interest.  To  imi- 
tate the  first  kind  of  the  creatures  is  to  live 
like  a  beast ;  to  follow  the  second  is  to  live 
like  a  man. 

Let  us  apply  this  general  truth  to  the  par- 
ticular subject  in  hand,  and  let  us  justify  what 
we  have  advanced,  that  there  is  nothing  hy- 
perbolical in  this  proposition.  If  there  be  a 
subject  that  merits  the  attention  of  an  in- 
telligent soul,  it  is  the  longsuffering  of  God  : 
and  if  there  be  a  case,  in  which  an  intelligent 
creature  ought  to  use  the  faculty  that  his 
Creator  has  given  him,  of  going  beyond  the 
circle  of  present  objects,  of  rectifying  the  ac- 
tions of  his  senses  by  the  ideas  of  his  mind, 
and  of  correcting  his  temperament  by  reflec- 
tion, it  is  certainly  the  case  of  that  sinner 
with  whom  God  has  borne  so  long. 

Miserable  man  !  ought  he  to  say  to  him- 
self, I  have  committed,  not  only  those  sins, 
which  ordinarily  belong  to  the  frailty  and 
depravity  of  mankind,  but  those  also  which 
are  a  shame  to  human  nature,  and  which  sup- 
pose that  he  who  is  guilty  of  them  has  car- 
ried his  corruption  to  the  highest  pitch ! 
O  miserable  man  !  I  have  committed  not  only 
one  of  the  sins,  which  the  Scripture  says,  de- 
prive those  who  commit  them  of  '  inheriting 
the  kingdom  of  God,'  1  Cor.  vi.  10,  but  I 
have  lived  many  years  in  the  practice  of  such 
sins ;  in  the  impurity  of  effeminacy  and  adul- 
tery, in  the  possession  of  unjust  gain,  in  the 
gloomy  revolutions  of  implacable  hatred ! 
Miserable  man  !  I  have  abused,  not  only  the 
ordinary  means  of  conversion,  but  also  those 
extraordinary  means,  which  God  grants  only 
to  a  few,  and  which  he  seems  to  have  display- 
ed on  purpose  to  show  how  far  a  God  of  love 
can  carry  his  love  !  Miserable  man  !  I  was 
not  only  engaged  as  a  man  and  a  professor  of 


Christianity  to  give  an  example  of  piety,  but 
I  was  also  engaged  to  do  it  as  a  minister,  as  a 
magistrate,  as  a  parent ;  yet,  in  spite  of  all 
my  unworthiness,  God  has  borne  with  me, 
and  has  preserved  me  in  this  world,  not  only 
while  prosperity  was  universal,  but  while  ca- 
lamities were  almost  general  ;  while  the 
sword  was  glutting  itself  with  blood,  while 
the  destroying  angel  was  exterminating  on 
every  side,  as  if  he  intended  to  make  the 
whole  world  one  vast  grave !  All  this  time 
God  has  been  showering  his  blessings  upon 
me  !  upon  me  the  chief  of  sinners!  me  his 
declared  enemy  !  blessings  that  he  promised 
to  bestow  as  privileges  on  his  favourites  only  ! 
'  I  dwelt  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High, 
I  abode  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty !' 
Ps.  xci.  1. 

I  ask,  my  brethren,  whether  if  there  be  a 
state  in  which  an  inteUigent  creature  ought 
to  meditate  and  reflect,  it  be  not  the  state  of 
a  sinner .''  If  I  prove  then,  that  there  are  men 
in  this  state,  who  neither  think  nor  reflect, 
because  they  confine  their  attention  to  the 
circle  of  present  objects,  abandon  themselves 
wholly  to  sensuality,  and  give  themselves  up 
entirely  to  their  constitutional  vices ;  shall 
I  not  have  proved  that  there  are  men,  who 
like  beasts  are  indifferent  to  '  the  riches  of 
the  forbearance  and  longsuffering  of  God  V 
Rom.  ii.  4.  But  where  shall  we  find  such 
people .'  Shall  we  search  for  them  in  fa- 
bulous history,  or  look  for  them  in  ancient 
chronicles .'  Shall  we  quote  the  relations  of 
those  travellers,  who  seem  to  aim  less  at  in- 
structing us  by  publishing  true  accounts,  than 
at  astonishing  us  by  reporting  uncommon 
events  .■*  Alas  !  alas,  my  dear  brethren,  I  fear  I 
have  been  too  confident,  and  had  not  suffi- 
ciently proportioned  my  strength  to  my  cou- 
rage, when  1  engaged  at  the  beginning  of 
this  discourse  to  confront  certain  portraits 
with  the  countenances  of  some  of  my  hear- 
ers  But,  no,  the    truth 

ought  not  to  suffer  through  the  frailty  of  him 
whose  office  it  is  to  publish  it. 

Tell  us  then,  what  distinguishes  the  man 
from  the  beast,  in  that  worshipper  of  Mam- 
mon, who  having  spent  his  life  in  amassing 
and  hoarding  up  wealth,  in  taxing  the  widow, 
the  orphan,  and  the  ward,  to  satiate  his  ava- 
rice ;  having  defrauded  the  state,  deceived 
his  correspondents,  and  betrayed  his  tender- 
est  friends  ;  having  accumulated  heaps  upon 
heaps,  and  having  only  a  k\\  days  respite, 
which  providence  has  granted  him  for  the  re- 
pentance of  his  sins,  and  the  restitution  of 
his  iniquitous  gains  ;  employs  these  last  mo- 
ments in  offering  incense  to  his  idol,  spends 
his  last  breath  in  enlarging  his  income,  in 
lessening  his  expenses,  and  in  endeavouring 
to  gratify  that  insatiable  desire  of  getting 
which  gnaws  and  devours  him. 

Tell  us  what  distinguishes  the  man  from 
the  beast,  in  that  old  debauchee,  who  thinks 
of  nothing  but  voluptuousness;  who  to  sen- 
suality sacrifices  his  time,  his  fortune,  his  re- 
putation, his  health,  his  soul,  his  salvation, 
along  with  all  his  pretensions  to  immortality; 
and  who  would  willingly  comprehend  the 
whole  of  man  in  this  definition,  a  being  capa- 
ble of  wallowing  in  voluptuousness  .' 

Tell  us  what  distinguishes  the  man  from 


Skr.    XI] 


GOD  WITH  INDIVIDUALS. 


123 


the  beast,  in  that  man,  who  not  being  able  to 
boar  the  remorse  of  his  own  conscience,  nor 
the  ideas  of  the  vanity  of  this  world,  to  which 
he  is  wholly  devoted  ;  drowns  his  reason  in 
wine,  gives  himself  up  to  all  the  excesses  of 
drunkenness,  exposes  himself  to  the  danger 
of  committing  some  bloody  murder,  or  of 
perishing  in  some  tragical  death,  of  which 
we  have  too  many  melancholy  examples ;  not 
only  unfits  himself  for  repenting  now,  but 
even  renders  himself  incapable  of  repent- 
ing at  all  ?  What  is  a  penitent's  reconciliation 
to  God  ?  It  includes,  at  least,  reflection  and 
thought,  the  laying  down  of  principles  and 
the  deducing  of  consequences :  but  people  of 
this  kind,  through  their  excessive  intoxica- 
tion, generally  incapacitate  themselves  for 
inferring  a  consequence,  or  admitting  a  prin- 
ciple, and  even  for  reflecting  and  thinking  ; 
as  experience,  experience  superior  to  all  our 
reasoning,  has  many  a  time  shown. 

But  it  is  necessary  to  reason  in  order  to 
discover  the  injustice  of  this  disposition  ?  Do 
ye  really  think  that  God  created  you  capable 
of  reflection  that  ye  should  never  reflect  ? 
Do  ye  indeed  believe  that  God  gave  you  so 
many  fine  faculties  that  ye  should  make  no 
use  of  these  faculties  ?  In  a  word,  can  ye  seri- 
ously think  that  God  made  you  men  in  order 
to  enable  you  to  live  like  beasts  .'' 

III.  I  said,  in  the  third  place,  that  the  dis- 
position of  which  the  Wise  Man  speaks  in 
the  text,  sometimes  proceeds  from  a  princi- 
ple of  grave  folly.  So  I  call  the  principle  of 
some  philosophers,  who  imagine  that  they 
find  in  the  delay  of  the  punishment  of  sinners, 
an  invincible  argument  against  the  existence 
of  God,  at  least  against  the  infinity  of  his 
perfections. 

We  do  not  mean,  by  a  philosopher,  that 
superficial  trifler,  who  not  having  the  least 
notion  of  right  reasoning,  takes  the  liberty 
sometimes  of  pretending  to  reason,  and  with 
an  air  of  superiority,  which  might  impose 
on  us,  were  we  to  be  imposed  on  by  a  tone, 
says,  '  The  learned  maintained  such  an  opin- 
ion :  but  I  affirm  the  opposite  opinion.  Ca- 
suists advance  such  a  maxim :  but  I  lay 
down  a  very  different  maxim.  Pastors  hold 
such  a  system  ;  but,  for  my  part,  I  hold  alto- 
gether another  system.'  And  who  is  he 
who  talks  in  this  decisive  tone,  and  who 
alone  pretends  to  contradict  all  our  ministers, 
and  all  our  learned  men ;  the  whole  church, 
and  the  whole  school .'  It  is  sometimes  a 
man,  whose  whole  science  consists  in  the 
casting  up  of  a  sum.  It  is  sometimes  a  man, 
who  has  spent  all  his  life  in  exercises,  that 
have  not  the  least  relation  to  the  subject 
which  he  so  arrogantly  decides;  and  who 
thinks,  if  1  may  be  allowed  to  say  so,  that 
arguments  are  to  be  commanded  as  he  com- 
mands a  regiment  of  soldiers.  In  a  word,  they 
are  men,  for  the  most  part,  who  know  nei- 
ther what  a  system  nor  a  maxim  is.  Let  not 
such  people  imagine  that  they  are  addressed 
as  philosophers  ;  for  we  cannot  address  them 
without  repeating  what  has  been  said  in  the 
preceding  article,  which  is  their  proper  place. 
We  mean,  when  we  speak  of  men  who 
despise  the  long  suffering  of  God  as  philoso- 
phers, people  who  have  taken  as  much  pains 
to  arrive  at  infidelity,  as  they  ought  to  have 


taken  to  obtain  the  knowledge  of  the  truth : 
who  have  studied  as  much  to  palliate  error, 
as  they  ought  to  have  studied  to  expose  it :  who 
have  gone  through  as  long  a  course  of  read- 
ing and  meditation  to  deprave  their  hearts  as 
they  ought  to  have  undertaken  to  preserve 
them  from  depravity.  Among  the  sophisms 
which  they  have  adopted,  that  which  they 
have  derived  from  the  delay  of  the  punish- 
ment of  sinners,  has  appeared  the  most  ten- 
able, and  they  have  occupied  it  as  their  fort. 
Sophisms  of  this  kind  arc  not  new,  they 
have  been  repeated  in  all  ages,  and  in  every 
age  there  have  been  such  as  Celius  (this  is 
the  name  of  an  ancient  atheist),  of  whom 
a  heathen  poet  says,  Celius  says  that  there 
are  no  gods,  and  that  heaven  is  an  uninhabit- 
ed place  ;  and  these  are  the  chief  reasons  that 
he  assigns  ;  he  continued  happy,  and  he  had 
the  prospect  of  continuing  so,  while  he  deni- 
ed the  existence  of  a  God. 

As  the  persons,  to  whom  we  address  this 
article,  profess  to  reason,  let  us  reason  with 
them.  And  ye,  my  brethren,  endeavour  to 
attend  a  few  moments  to  our  arguments. 
One  brief  cause  of  our  erroneous  notions  of 
the  perfections  of  God,  is  the  considering  of 
them  separately,and  not  in  their  admirable  as- 
sortment and  beautiful  harmony.  When  we 
meditate  on  the  goodness  of  God,  we  consider 
his  goodness  alone,  and  not  in  harmony  with 
bis  justice.  When  we  meditate  on  his  justice, 
we  consider  it  in  an  abstract  view,  and  with-  , 
out  any  relation  to  his  goodness.  And  in  the 
same  manner  we  consider  his  wisdom,  his 
power,  and  his  other  attributes. 

This  restriction  of  meditation  (I  think  I 
may  venture  to  call  it  so)  is  a  source  of  so- 
phistry. If  we  consider  supreme  justice  in 
this  manner,  it  will  seem  as  if  it  ought  to  ex- 
terminate every  sinner :  and  on  the  contra- 
ry, if  we  consider  supreme  goodness  in  this 
manner,  it  will  seem  as  if  it  ought  to  spare 
every  sinner  ;  to  succour  all  the  afflicted ;  to 
prevent  every  degree  of  distress  ;  and  to  gra- 
tify every  wish  of  every  creature  capable  of 
wishing.  We  might  observe  the  same  of 
power,  and  of  wisdom,  and  of  every  other  per- 
fection of  God.  But  what  shocking  conse- 
quences would  follow  such  views  of  the  divine 
attributes!  As  we  should  never  be  able  to 
prove  such  a  justice,  or  such  a  goodness  as 
we  have  imagined,  we  should  be  obliged  to 
infer,  that  God  is  not  a  Being  supremely 
good  ;  that  he  is  not  a  Being  supremely  just ; 
and  the  same  may  be  said  of  his  other  per- 
fections. 

Persons  who  entertain  such  notions,  not 
only  sink  the  Supreme  Being  below  the  dig- 
nity of  his  own  nature,  but  even  below  that 
of  mankind.  Were  we  to  allow  the  reason- 
ing;' of  these  people,  we  should  increase  their 
difficulties  by  removing  them,  for  the  argu- 
ment would  end  in  downright  atheism. 
Were  we  to  allow  the  force  oF  their  objec- 
tions, I  say,  we  should  increase  their  difficul- 
ties, and  instead  of  obtaining  a  solution  of 
the  difficulty  which  attends  our  notions  of  a 
divine  attribute,  we  should  obtain  a  proof 
that  there  is  no  God :  for,  could  we  prove 
that  there  is  a  Being  supremely  good,  in  their 
abstract  sense  of  goodness,  we  should  there- 
by prove  that  there  is  no  being  supremely 


124 


THE  LONGSUFFERING  OF 


[Ser.  IX. 


just;  because  supreme  goodness,  considered 
m  their  abstract  manner,  destroys  supreme 
justice.  The  same  may  be  said  of  all  the 
other  perfections  of  God,  one  perfection  of 
the  divine  nature  would  destroy  another; 
and  to  prove  that  God  possessed  one  would 
be  to  prove  that  of  the  other  his  nature  was 
quite  destitute. 

Now,  if  there  be  a  subject,  my  brethren, 
in  which  people  err  by  considering  the  per- 
fections of  God  in  a  detached  and  abstract 
manner,  it  is  this  of  which  we  are  speaking ; 
it  is  when  people  raise  objections  against  the 
attributes  of  God  from  his  forbearance  with 
sinners.  God  seems  to  act  contrary  to  some 
of  his  perfections  in  his  forbearance.  Why  .'' 
Because  the  perfection,  to  which  his  con- 
duct seems  incongruous,  is  considered  as  if 
it  were  alone,  and  not  as  if  it  were  in  rela- 
tion to  another  perfection :  because,  as  I  have 
already  said,  the  divine  attributes  are  con- 
sidered abstractly,  and  not  in  their  beautiful 
assortment  and  admirable  harmony. 

I  confine  myself  to  this  principle  to  refute 
the  objections  which  some,  who  are  impro- 
perly called  philosophers,  derive  from  the  de- 
lay of  the  punishment  of  sinners,  to  oppose 
to  the  perfections  of  God.  I  do  not,  however, 
confine  myself  to  this  for  want  of  other  solid 
answers :  for  example,  I  might  prove  that 
the  notion,  which  tliey  form  of  those  perfec- 
tions, to  which  the  delay  of  divine  vengeance 
seems  repugnant,  is  a  false  notion. 

What  are  those  perfections  of  God  .'  They 
are,  ye  answer,  truth,  which  is  interested  in 
executing  the  threatenings  that  are  denounc- 
ed against  sinners  :  tcisdom,  which  is  inter- 
ested m  supplying  means  of  re-establishing 
order  :  and  particularly  justice,  which  is  in- 
terested in  the  punishing  of  the  guilty. 

I  reply,  that  your  idea  of  truth  is  opposite  to 
truth  ;  your  idea  of  wisdom  is  opposite  to  wis- 
dom :  your  idea  of  justice  is  opposite  to  justice. 
Yes,  the  notion  that  ye  entertain  of  truth, 
is  opposite  to  truth,  and  ye  resemble  those 
scoffers,  of  whom  the  apostle  speaks,  who 
said,  '  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming  .'"' 
What  Jesus  Clarist  had  said  of  St.  John,  'If 
I  will  that  he  tarry  till  I  come,  what  is  that 
to  thee  .■"  had  occasioned  a  rumour  concern- 
ing the  near  approach  of  the  dissolution  of 
the  world :  but  there  was  no  appearance  of 
the  dissolution  of  the  world  :  thence  the  scof- 
fers, of  whom  St.  Peter  speaks,  concluded 
that  God  had  not  fulfilled  his  promise,  and 
on  this  false  supposition  they  said,  '  Where 
is  the  promise  of  his  coming .''  Apply  this 
reflection  to  yourselves.  The  delay  of  the 
punishment  of  sinners,  ye  say,  is  opposite 
to  the  truth  of  God:  on  the  contrary,  God 
has  declared  that  he  would  not  punish  every 
sinner  as  soon  as  he  had  committed  an  act 
of  sin.  '  The  sinner  doth  evil  a  hundred 
times,  and  God  prolongetli  his  days.' 

The  delay  of  the  punishment  of  sinners,  ye 
say,  is  opposite  to  the  wisdon  of  God  :  on  the 
contrary,  it  is  this  delay  which  provides  for 
the  execution  of  that  wise  plan,  wiiich  God 
has  made  for  mankind,  of  placing  them  for 
some  time  in  a  state  of  probation  in  this  world, 
and  of  regulating  their  future  reward  or  pun- 
ishment according  to  their  use  or  abuse  of 
such  a  dispensation. 


The  delay  of  the  punishment  of  sinners,  yo 
say,  is  repugnant  to  the  justice  of  God.  Quito 
the  contrary.  What  do  ye  call  justice  in 
God  ?  What!  Such  an  impetuous  emotion  as 
that  which  animates  you  against  those  who 
affront  you ,  and  whom  ye  consider  as  enemies  ? 
An  implacable  madness,  which  enrages  you  to 
such  a  degree,  that  a  sight  of  all  the  miseries 
into  which  ye  are  going  to  involve  them  is 
not  able  to  curb  ?  Is  this  what  ye  call  justice.'* 
But  I  suppress  all  these  reflections,  and  re- 
turn to  my  principle,  (and  this  is  not  the  first 
time  that  we  have  been  obliged  to  proportion 
the  length  of  a  discourse,  not  to  the  nature  of 
the  subject,  but  to  the  impatience  of  our  hear- 
ers.) I  return  to  my  principle  ;  the  delay  of 
the  punishment  of  sinners  will  not  seem  in- 
compatible with  the  justice  of  God,  unless  ye 
consider  that  perfection  detached  from  ano- 
ther perfection,  by  which  God  in  the  most 
eminent  manner  displays  his  glory,  I  mean  his 
mercy.  An  explication  of  the  last  clause  of 
our  text,  '  the  sinner  doth  evil  a  hundred 
times,  and  God  prolongeth  his  days,'  will 
place  the  matter  in  a  clear  light :  for  the  long- 
suffering  of  God  with  sinners  flows  from  his 
mercy.  St.  Peter  confirms  this  when  he  tells 
us,  '  The  Lord  is  not  slack  concerning  his 
promise,  but  is  long-suffering  to  us-ward,  not 
willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all 
should  come  to  repentance,'  2  Pet.  iii.  9. 

It  is  with  the  same  view  that  Jesus  Christ 
calls  the  whole  time,  during  which  God  de- 
layed the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  '  the  time 
of  the  visitation  of  that  miserable  city,'  Luke 
xix.  44.  And  for  the  same  reason  St.  Paul 
calls  the  whole  time,  which  God  puts  between 
the  commission  of  sin  and  the  destruction  of 
sinners, '  riches  of  forbearance,  and  longsuf- 
fering,  that  lead  to  repentance,'  Rom.  ii.  4. 
And  who  could  flatter  himself  with  the  hope 
of  escaping  '  devouring  fire,  and  everlasting 
burnings,'  Isa.  xxxiii.  14,  were  God  to  exe- 
cute immediately  his  sentence  against  evil 
works,  and  to  make  punishment  instantly  fol- 
low the  practice  of  sin  .' 

Wliat  would  have  become  of  Da^-id  if  divine 
mercy  had  prolonged  his  days  after  he  had 
fallen  into  the  crimes  of  adultery  and  nmrder  ; 
or  if  justice  had  called  him  to  give  an  account 
of  his  conduct  while  his  heart,  burning  with  a 
criminal  passion,  was  wishing  only  to  gratify 
it ;  while  he  was  sacrificing  the  honour  of  a 
wife,  the  life  of  a  husband,  along  with  his  own 
body,  which  should  have  been  a  temple  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  to  the  criminal  passion  that  in- 
flamed his  soul.'  It  was  the  longsufFering,  the 
patience  of  God,  that  gave  him  time  to  recover 
himself,  to  get  rid  of  his  infatuation,  to  see 
the  horror  of  his  sin,  and  to  say  under  a  sense  of 
it,  '  Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  God,  according 
to  thy  lovingkindness  :  according  unto  the 
multitude  of  thy  mercies  blot  out  my  trans- 
gressions. Wash  me  thoroughly  from  mine 
iniquit}',  and  cleanse  me  from  my  sin.  For  I 
acknowledge  my  transgressions :  and  my  sin 
is  ever  before  me.  Against  thee,  thee  only 
have  I  sinned,  and  done  this  evil  in  thy  sight : 
that  thou  niightcst  be  justified  when  thou 
speakest,  and  be  clear  when  thou  judgest,' 
Ps.  li.  1—4. 

What  would  have  become  of  Manassch,  if 
God  had  called  iiim  to  give  an  account  of  hii 


Ser.  XL] 


GOD  WITH  INDIVIDUALS. 


G^'>7 


administration  while  he  was  making  the  house 
of  God  the  theatre  of  his  dissoluteness  and 
idolatry ;  while  he  was  planting  groves, 
rearing  up  altars  for  the  host  of  heaven,  ma- 
king his  sons  pass  through  the  fire,  doing  more 
wickedly  than  the  Amorites,  making  Judah  to 
sin  with  his  dunghill  gods,  as  the  holy  Scrip- 
ture calls  them  ?  It  was  the  longsufl'ering  of 
God  that  bore  with  him,  that  engaged  him  to 
humble  himself,  to  pray  fervently  to  the  God  of 
his  fathers,  and  to  become  an  exemplary  con- 
vert after  he  had  been  an  example  of  infidelity 
and  impurity. 

What  would  have  become  of  St.  Peter,  if 
God  had  called  him  to  give  an  account  of 
himself,  while,  frightened  and  subverted  at 
the  sight  of  the  judges  and  executioners  of 
his  Saviour,  he  was  pronouncing  those  cow- 
ardly words,  '  I  know  not  the  man.''  It  was 
the  longsuffering  and  patience  of  God,  that 
gave  him  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  merci- 
ful looks  of  Jesus  Christ  immediately  after 
his  denial  of  him,  of  fleeing  from  a  place  fatal 
to  his  innocence,  of  going  out  to  weep  bitter- 
ly, and  of  saying  to  Jesus  Christ,  '  Lord  thou 
knowest  that  I  love  thee  :  Lord,  thou  know- 
est  all  things,  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thco,' 
John  xxi.  IG,  17. 

What  would  have  become  of  St.  Paul,  if 
God  had  required  an  account  of  his  adminis- 
tration, while  he  was  '  breathing  out  threat- 
enings  and  slaughter  against  the  disci  pies  of 
the  Lord,'  Acts  ix.  1  ;  while  he  was  ambitious 
of  stifling  the  new-born  church  in  her  cradle, 
while  he  was  soliciting  letters  from  the  high 
priest  to  pervert  and  to  punish  tlie  disciples  of 
Christ  ?  It  was  the  longsuffering  of  God,  that 
gave  him  an  opportunity  of  saying.  '  Lord, 
what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  .•"  Acts  ix.  G.  It 
was  the  patience  of  God  which  gave  him  an 
opportunity  of  making  that  honest  confession, 
'  I  was  before  a  blasphemer,  and  a  persecutor, 
and  injurious :  But  I  obtained  mercy,'  1 
Tim.  i.  13. 

IV.  But  why  should  wc  go  out  of  tliis  as- 
sembly, (and  here  we  enter  into  the  last  arti- 
cle, and  shall  endeavour  to  prevent  your 
abuse  of  the  patience  of  God  in  the  disposi- 
tions of  7rtcre,)  why  should  v/e  go  out  of  this 
assembly,  to  search  after  proofs  of  divine  mer- 
cy in  a  delay  of  punishment .''  What  would  have 
become  of  you,  aiy  dear  hearers,  if  vengeance 
had  immediately  followed  sin  ?  if  God  iiad  not 
prolonged  the  days  of  sinners ;  if  sentence 
against  evil  works  had  been  executed  speedilij? 

What  would  have  become  of  some  of  you,  if 
God  had  required  of  you  an  account  of  your 
conduct,  while  ye  were  sacrificing  the  rights 
of  widows  and  orphans  to  the  '  honour  of  the 
persons  of  the  mighty,'  Lev.  xix.  LS  ;  while 
ye  were  practising  perjury  and  accepting 
bribes .'  It  is  the  longsuffering  of  God  iha.t  pro- 
longs your  days,  that  ye  may  make  a  restitu- 
tion of  your  unrighteous  gain,  plead  for  the  or- 
phan and  the  widow,  and  attend  in  future  deci- 
sions only  to  the  nature  of  the  cause  before  you. 

What  would  have  become  of  some  of  you,  if 
God  had  called  you  to  give  an  account  of 
your  conduct,  while  the  fear  of  persecution, 
or,  what  is  infinitely  more  criminal  still,  while 
the  love  of  ease,  prevailed  over  you  to  renounce 
a  religion  which  ye  respected  in  your  hearts 
while  ye  denied  with  your  mouths .'    It  is  the 

R 


I  patience  of  God  which  has  affordej 
I  to  learn  the   greatness  of  a  sin,  tl 
which  a  whole  life  of  repentance  is  x 

cient  to  expiate:  it  is  the  patience  oi   „ 

which  ha.s  prolonged  your  days,  that  ye  might 
confess  that  Jesus  whom  ye  have  betrayed, 
and  profess  that  gospel  which  ye  have  denied. 
Let  us  not  multiply  particular  examples, 
let  us  comprise  this  whole  assembly  in  one 
class.  There  is  not  one  of  our  hearers,  no, 
not  one,  who  is  in  this  church  to  day,  there  is 
not  one  who  has  been  engaged  in  the  devo 
tional  exercises  of  this  day,  who  would  not 
have  been  in  hell  with  the  devil  and  his  angels, 
if  vengeance  had  immediately  followed  sin  ;  if 
God  had  exercised  no  patience  towards  sin- 
ners ;  if  '  sentence  against  evil  works'  had 
been  '  executed  speedily.'  '  It  is  of  the  Lord's 
mercies  that  we  are  not  consumed  !'  Lam.  iii. 
22.  The  delay  of  punishment  is  a  demonstra- 
tion of  his  mercy  ;  it  does  not  prove  that  he  is 
not  just,  but  it  does  prove  that  he  is  good. 

I  could  wish,  my  brethren,  that  all  those 
who  ought  to  interest  themselves  in  this  arti- 
cle, would  render  it  needless  for  me   to  enter 
into  particulars,  by  recollecting  the  history  of 
their  own  lives,  and  by  remembering  the  cir- 
cumstances  to    which    I    refer.      One    man 
ought  to  say  to  himself,  in  my  childhood,  an 
upright  fatlier,  a  pious  mother,  and   several 
worthy  tutors  did  all  that  lay  in  their  power 
to  form  me  virtuous.     In   my  youth,  a  tender 
and  generous  friend,  who  was  more  concerned 
for  my  happiness,  and  more  ambitious  of  my 
excelling,  than  I  myself,  availed  himself  of  all 
the  power  of  insinuation  that  nature  had  giv- 
en him  to  incline  my  heait  to  piety  and  to  the 
fear  of  God,  and  to  attach  me  to  religion  by 
bands  of  love.     On  a  certain  occasion.  Provi- 
dence put  into  my  hands  a  religious  book,  the 
reading  of  which  discovered  to  me  the  turpi- 
tude ot  my  conduct.     At  another  time,  one  of 
those    clear,  affecting,    thundering  sermons, 
that  alarm  sleepy  souls,  forced  from  me  a  pro- 
mise   of  repentance   and    reformation.     One 
day,  I  saw  the  administration  of  the  Lord's 
supper,  which,  awakening  my  attention  to  tho 
grand  sacrifice    that   divine  justice    required 
for  the  sins  of  mankind,  affected  me  in  a  man- 
ner so  powerful  and  moving,  that  I  tiiought 
myself  obliged  in  gratitude  to   dedicate   my 
Vk'hole  life  to  him,  who  in  the  tenderest  com- 
passion had  given   himself  for  me.     Another 
time  an  extremely  painful  illness  sliowed  me 
the  absurdity  of  my  course  of  life  ;  filled  mo 
with  a  keenness  of  remorse,  that  seemed  an 
anticipation  of  hell ;    put  me  on  beseeching 
God  to  grant  me  a  few  years  more  of  his  pa- 
tience ;  and  brought  me  to  a  solenm  adjura- 
tion that  I  would  employ  the  remaining  ju.rt 
of  my  life   in  repairing  tiie  past.     All  these 
have  been   fruitless  ;    all    these   means  have 
been  useless  ;    all  these    promises  have  been 
false  ;  and  yet  I  may  have  access  to  a  throne 
of  grace.     What  love  !  Wiiat  mercy  ! 

This  longsuffisring  of  God  with  impenitent 
sinners,  will  be  one  of  the  most  terrible  sub- 
jects that  sinners  can  think  of  when  the  aveng- 
ing moment  comes  ;  when  the  fatal  hour  ar- 
rives in  which  the  voice  of  divine  justice  shall 
summon  a  miserable  wretch  to  appear,  when 
it  shall  bind  him  to  a  death  bed,  and  suspend 
him  over  the  abyss  of  hell. 


126 


GOD  THE  ONLY 


[Ser.  XII. 


But  to  a  poor  Binner,  who  is  awakening 
from  his  sin,  who  having  consumed  the  great- 
est pnrt  of  his  hfe  in  sin,  would  repair  it  by 
sacrificing  the  world  and  all  its  glory,  were 
such  a  sacrifice  in  his  power  :  to  a  poor  sin- 
ner, who,  having  been  for  some  time  afraid  of 
an  exclusion  from  the  mercy  of  God,  revolves 
these  distressing  thoughts  in  his  mind,  Per- 
haps 'the  days  of  my  visitation'  may  be  at  an 
end  ;  henceforth,  perhaps,  my  sorrows  may 
be  superfluous,  and  my  tears  inadmissible :  to 
such  a  sinner,  what  an  object,  what  a  comfort- 
able object,  is  the  treasure  of  '  the  forbearance 
and  longsuffering  of  God  that  leadeth  to  re- 
pentance.' My  God,  says  such  a  uinner,  '  I 
am  not  worthy  of  the  least  of  all  thy  mercies!' 
Gen.  xxxii.  10.  My  God,  I  am  tempted  to 
think  that  to  doubt  of  my  interest  in  thy  fa- 
vour is  the  rendering  of  a  proper  homage  to 
thy  mercy,  and  my  unbelief  would  arise  from 
my  veneration  for  thy  majesty  !  But  let  me 
not  think  so  ;  I  will  not  doubt  of  thy  mercy, 
my  God,  since  thou  hast  condescended  to  as- 
sure me  of  it  in  such  a  tender  manner  I  I  will 
lose  myself  in  that  ocean  of  love  which  thou, 

0  God,  infinitely  good  !  still  discovers  to  me  ; 

1  will  persuade  myself  that  thou  dost  not  des- 
pise the  sacrifice  of  a  broken  and  contrite 
heart ;  and  this  persuasion  I  will  oppose  to  an 
alnrmed  conscience,  to  a  fear  of  hell  that  an- 
ticipates the  misery  of  the  state,  and  to  all 
those  formidable  executioners  of  condemned 
men,  whom  I  behold  ready  to  seize  their  prey  ! 

My  bretliren,  'the  riches  of  the  goodness, 
and  forbearance,  and  longsuffering  of  God,' 
are  yet  open  to  you :  they  are  open,  my  dear 
brethren,  to  this  church,  how  ungrateful 
soever  we  have  been  to  the  goodness  of  God  ; 
how  much  insensibility  soever  we  have 
shown  to  the  invitations  of  grace  :  they  are 
open  to  the  greatest  sinners,  nor  is  there  one 
of  my  hearers  who  may  not  be  admitted  to 
these  inexhaustible  treasuresof  goodness  and 
mercy. 


Butdo  ye  still  'despise  the  riches  of  the 
longsuffering  of  God  .-"  What !  because  '  a 
space  to  repent'  (Rev.  ii.  21.)  is  given,  will 
ye  continue  in  impenitence  .'  Ah!  were  Jesua 
Christ  in  the  flesh,  were  he  walking  in  your 
streets,  were  he  now  in  this  pulpit  preaching 
to  you,  would  he  not  preach  to  you  all  bathed 
in  sorrows  and  tears  ?  He  would  weep  over 
you  as  he  once  wept  over  Jerusalem,  and  he 
would  say  to  this  province,  to  this  town,  to 
thischurch,  to  each  person  in  this  assembly, 
yea  to  that  wicked  hearer,  who  affects  not  to 
be  concerned  in  this  sermon,  O  that  '  thou 
hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy 
day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  peace !' 
Luke  xix.  42.  What  am  I  saying  ?  he  would 
say  thusjhe  does  say  thus,my  dear  brethren, and 
still  interests  himself  in  your  salvation  in  the 
tenderest  and  most  vehement  manner.  Sitting 
at  the  right  hand  of  his  Father,  he  holds  back 
that  avenging  arm  which  is  ready  to  fell  us  to 
the  earth  at  a  stroke;  in  our  behalf  he  interposes 
his  sufferings  and  his  death.his  intercession  and 
his  cross  ;  and  from  the  top  of  that  glory  to 
which  he  is  elevated,  he  looks  down  and  says 
to  this  republic,  to  this  church,  to  all  this  as- 
sembly, and  to  every  sinner  in  it ;  O  that 
'  thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this 
thy  day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy 
peace !' 

My  bre  thren,  the  patience  of  God,  which 
yet  endures,  will  not  always  endure.  The 
year  which  the  master  of  the  vineyard  grants, 
at  the  intercession  of  the  dresser,  to  try  whe- 
ther a  barren  fig-tree  can  be  made  fruitful, 
will  expire,  and  then  it  must  be  cut  down, 
Luke  xiii.  6.  Do  not  deceive  yourselves,  my 
brethren ;  the  longsuffering  of  God  must 
produce  in  the  end  either  your  conversion  or 
your  destruction.  O  may  it  prevent  your 
destruction  by  producing  your  conversion! 
The  Lord  grant  you  this  favour !  To  him, 
the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  holy  Spirit,  bs 
honour  and  glory  for  ever.     Amen-. 


SERMON    XII. 


GOD  THE  ONLY  OBJECT  OF  FEAR. 
PAUT  I. 


Jeremiah  x.  7. 


IFho  ivould  not  fear  thee,  0  King  of  nations  ?  For  to  thee  doth  it  appertain. 

The  prophet  aims,  in  the  words  of  the  text, 
to  inspire  us  with  fear,  and  the  best  way 
to  understand  his  meaning  is  to  affix  distinct 
ideas  to  the  term.  To  fear  God  is  an  equi- 
vocal phrase  in  all  languages  ;  it  is  generally 
used  in  three  senses  in  the  holy  Scriptures. 

1.  i'cur  sometimes  signifies  terror  ;  a  dis- 
position, that  makes  the  soul  consider  itself 
only  as  sinful,  and  God  chiefly  as  a  being 
who  hates  and  avenges  sin.  There  are  va- 
rious degrees  of  this  fear,  and  it  deserves 
either  praise,  or  blame,  according  to  the  dif- 
ferent degree  to  which  it  it  carried. 


A  man,  whose  heart  is  so  void  of  the  know- 
ledge of  the  perfections  of  God,  that  he  can- 
not rise  above  the  little  idols  which  worldlings 
adore  ;  whose  notions  are  so  gross,  that  he 
cannot  adhere  to  the  purity  of  religion  for 
purity's  sake  ;  whose  taste  is  so  vitiated  that 
he  has  no  relish  for  the  delightful  union  of  a 
faithful  soul  with  its  God ;  such  a  man  de- 
serves to  be  praised,  when  he  endeavours  to 
restrain  his  sensuality  by  the  idea  of  an 
avenging  God.  The  apostles  urged  this 
motive  with  success,  '  knowing  therefore  the 
terror  of  the  Lord  we  persuade  men,'  2  Cor. 


Sbr.  XII.] 


OBJECT  OF  FEAR. 


127 


V.  11.  'Of  some  have  compassion,'  says  St. 
Jude  to  the  ministers  of  the  gospel,  '  making 
a  difference;  and  others  save  with  fear,  pull- 
ing them  out  of  the  fire,'  ver.  22,  23.  Such 
a  disposition  is,  without  doubt,  very  imper- 
fect, and  were  a  man  to  expect  salvation  in 
his  way,  he  would  be  in  imminent  danger  of 
feeling  those  miseries  of  which  he  is  afraid.  No 
casuists,  except  such  as  have  been  educated  in 
an  infernal  school,  will  venture  to  afRrm,  that 
to  fear  G'orfinthis  sense,  without  loving  him, 
is  sufficient  for  salvation.  Nevertheless,  this 
disposition  is  allowable  in  the  beginning  of  a 
work  of  conversion,  it  is  never  altogether 
useless  to  a  regenerate  man,  and  it  is  of  sin- 
gular use  to  him  in  some  violent  temptations, 
with  which  the  enemy  of  his  salvation  as- 
saults him.  When  a  tide  of  depravity  threat- 
ens, in  spite  of  yourselves,  to  carry  you  away, 
recollect  some  of  the  titles  of  God  ;  the 
Scripture  calls  him  '  the  mighty,  and  the  ter- 
rible God  ;  the  furious  Lord  ;  a  consuming 
fire,' Neh.  ix.  32;  Nah.  i.  2 ;  Heb.  xii.  2SJ. 
Remember  the  terrors  that  your  own  con- 
sciences felt,  when  they  first  awoke  from  the 
enchantment  of  sin,  and  when  they  beheld, 
for  the  first  time,  vice  in  its  own  colours. 
Meditate  on  that  dreadful  abode,  in  which 
criminals  suffer  everlasting  pains  for  momen- 
tary pleasures.  The  fear  of  God,  taken  in 
tills  first  sense,  is  a  laudable  disposition. 

But  it  ceases  to  be  laudable,  it  becomes 
detestable,  when  it  goes  so  far  as  to  deprive 
a  sinner  of  a  sight  of  all  the  gracious  reme- 
dies which  God  has  reserved  for  sinners. 
'  I  heard  thy  voice,  and  I  was  afraid,  and  I 
hid  m3'self,'  Gen.  iii.  10,  said  the  first  man, 
afler  his  fall :  but  it  was  '  because  he  was 
naked  ;'  it  was  because  he  had  lost  the  glor}'  of 
his  primitive  innocence.and  must  be  obliged  to 
prostrate  himself  before  his  God,  to  seek  from 
his  infiniite  mercy  the  proper  remedies  for  his 
maladies;  to  pray  to  him,  in  whose  image  he 
had  been  first  formed,  Gen.  i.  26;  to  '  renew 
him  after  the  image  of  him  that  created  him,' 
Col.  iii.  10  ;  and  to  ask  him  for  habits,  that 
'  the  shame  of  his  nakedness  migjit  not  ap- 
pear,' Rev.  iii.  18.  Despair  should  not  dwell 
in  the  church,  hell  should  be  its  only  abode.  It 
should  be  left  to  '  the  devils  to  believe  and 
tremble,'  Jam.  ii.  19.  Time  is  an  economy 
of  hope,  and  only  those,  whom  the  day  of 
wrath  overwhelms  with  horrible  judgments, 
have  reason  to  cry  '  to  the  mountains  and 
rocks,  Fall  on  us,  and  hide  us  from  the  wrath 
of  the  Lamb.'  R,ev.  vi.  16.  Too  great  a  degree 
of  fear,  then,  in  this  first  sense  of  fear,  is  a 
detestable  disposition. 

Fear  is  no  less  odious,  when  it  eives  us 
tragical  descriptions  of  the  rights  of  God,  and 
of  his  designs  on  iiis  creatures :  when  it 
makes  a  tj'rant  of  him,  whom  the  text  calls 
'  the  king  of  nations,'  Rev.  xix.  16  ;  of  him, 
who  is  elsewhere  described  as  having  on  his 
thigh  the  statel}'  title  of  '  King  of  kings  ;' 
of  him,  whose  dominion  is  described  as  con- 
stituting the  felicity  of  his  subjects,  '  The 
Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice  ;'  Ps. 
xcvii.  1.  Far  be  such  descriptions  of  God 
from  us  !  They  represent  the  Deity  as  a  mer- 
ciless usurer,  who  requires  an  account  of 
talents  that  we  have  not  received  ;  who  re- 
quires angelical  knowledge  of  a  human  intel- 


ligence, or  philosophical  penetration  of  an 
uninstructed  peasant.  Far  from  us  be  those 
systems,  which  pretend  to  prove,  that  Cod 
will  judge  the  heathens  by  the  same  laws  by 
v.'hich  he  will  judge  the  Jews;  and  that  he 
will  judge  those  who  lived  under  the  law,  as 
if  they  had  lived  under  the  gospel.'  Away 
with  that  fear  of  God,  which  is  so  injurious 
to  his  majesty,  and  so  unworthy  of  that  throne, 
which  is  founded  on  equity  !  What  encou- 
ragement could  I  have  to  endeavour  to  know 
what  God  has  been  pleased  to  reveal  to  man- 
kind, were  I  preposses.«ed  with  an  opinion, 
tiiat,  after  I  had  implored,  with  all  the  powers 
of  my  soul,  the  help  of  God  to  guide  me  in 
seeking  the  truth  ;  after  I  had  laid  aside  the 
prejudices  that  disguise  it  ;  after  I  had  sus- 
pended, as  far  as  1  could,  the  passions  that 
deprave  my  understanding  ;  even  after  1  had 
determined  to  sacrifice  my  rest,  my  fortune, 
my  dignity,  iii)'  life,  to  follow  it;  I  might  fall 
into  capital  errors  which  would  plunge  me  in- 
to everlasting  wo  '■!  No,  no,  we  '  have  not  so 
learned  Christ,'  Ej)!).  i\'.  20.  None  but  a  re- 
fractory servant  fears  God  in  this  manner.  It 
is  only  the  refractory  servant  who,  to  exculpate 
himself  for  negecting  what  was  in  his  power, 
pretends  to  have  thought  that  God  would  re- 
quire more  than  was  in  his  power :  Lord,  says 
he,  'Iknew  thee  thatthou  artahard  man, reap- 
ing where  thou  hast  not  sown,  and  gathering 
where  thou  hast  not  strawed,'  Matt.  xxv.  24. 
/  liucw  !  And  where  didst  thou  learn  this  .'' 
What  infernal  body  of  divinity  hast  thou  stu- 
died .'  What  dem.on  was  thy  tutor  ?  Ah  !  thou 
art  '  a  wicked  servant,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
'  a  slothful  servant ;'  slothful,  ver.  26,  not  to 
form  the  just  and  noble  resolution  of  improv- 
ing the  talent  that  I  committed  to  thee : 
tciched,  to  invent  such  an  odious  reason,  and 
to  represent  me  in  such  dismal  colours. 
'  Thou  oughtest  to  have  put  my  money  to  the 
exchangers,  and  then  I  should  have  received 
mine  own  with  usurj','  ver.  27.  Thou 
oughtest  to  have  improved  that  ray  of  light, 
with  which  I  had  enlightened  thee,  and  not 
to  have  forged  an  ideal  God,  who  v/ould  re- 
quire that  with  which  he  had  not  intrusted 
thee.  Thou  ouglitest  to  have  read  the  books 
that  my  providence  put  into  thy  hands,  and 
not  to  have  imagined  that  I  would  condemn 
thee  for  not  having  read  those  which  were  con- 
cealed from  thee.  Thou  oughtest  to  have 
consulted  those  ministers,  whom  I  had  set  in 
my  church,  and  not  to  have  feared  that  I 
would  condenm  thee  for  not  having  sat  in 
conference  with  angels  and  seraph ims,  with 
whom  thou  hadst  no  intercourse.  Thou  hadst 
but  one  talent ;  thou  oughtest  to  have  improv- 
ed that  one  talent,  and  not  to  have  neglected 
it  lest  I  should  require  four  of  thee.  '  Thou 
wicked  servant !  Thou  fdotlilul  servant !  take 
the  talent  from  him.  Give  it  unto  him  who 
hath  ten  talents,'  ver.  28. 

These  are  the  different  ideas,  which  we 
ought  to  form  of  that  disposition  of  mind 
which  is  called  fear  in  this  first  sense.  To 
fear  God  in  tiiis  sense  is  to  have  the  soul  fill- 
ed with  horror  at  the  sight  of  his  judgments. 

2.  To  fear  God  is  a  phrase  still  more  equi- 
vocal, and  it  is  put  for  that  disposition  of  mind, 
which  inclines  us  to  render  to  him  nil  the  wor- 
ship that  he  requires,  to  submit  to  all  the  laws 


128 


GOD  THE  ONLY 


[Seh.  XII. 


that  ho  imposes,  to  conceive  all  the  emotions 
of  admiration,  devotedness,  and  love,  which 
the  eminence  of  his  perfections  demand.  This 
is  the  usual  meaning  of  the  phrase.  By  this 
Jonah  described  himself,  even  while  he  was 
acting  contrary  to  it,  '  1  am  an  Hebrew,  and 
I  fear  the  Lord  the  God  of  heaven,'  Jonah  i. 
i).  In  this  sense  the  phiase  is  to  be  under- 
stood when  we  are  told  that  '  the  fear  of  the 
Lord  prolongeth  days,  is  a  fountain  of  life,  and 
pieserveth  from  the  snares  of  death,'  Prov.  x. 
27  ;  xiv.  27.  And  it  is  to  be  taken  in  the 
same  sense  where  '  the  fear  of  the  Lord'  is 
said  to  be  '  the  beginning  of  wisdom,'  Ps.  cxi. 
10.  The  fear  of  the  Lord  in  all  those  passa- 
ges includes  all  tlie  duties  of  religion.  The 
last  quoted  passage  is  quite  mistaken,  when 
the  fear  that  is  spoken  of  is  taken  for  terror  : 
and  a  conclusion  is  drawn  from  false  premises 
when  it  is  inferred  fronithis  passage  that  fear 
is  not  sufficient  for  salvation.  This  false  rea- 
soning, however,  may  be  found  in  some  sys- 
tems of  morality.  Terror,  say  they,  may,  in- 
deed, make  a  part  of  the  course  of  wisdom, 
but  it  is  only  the  beginning  of  it,  as  it  is  said, 
'  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wis- 
dom:' but,  neither  does/c«r  signify  terror  in 
this  passage,  nor  does  the  brginning  mean  a 
priority  of  time  ;  it  means  the  principal  point. 
'  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of 
wisdom;'  that  is,  the  principal  point;  that 
witRout  which  no  man  is  truly  wise,  that  is, 
obedience  to  the  laws  of  religion,  agreeably  to 
the  saying  of  the  Wise  Man, '  Fear  God,  and 
keep  his  commandments  :  for  this  is  the  whole 
doty  of  man,'  Eccl.  xiv.  13. 

It  seems  Jieedless  to  remark  what  idea  we 
ought  to  form  of  this  fear  ;  for,  it  is  plain,  the 
more  a  soul  is  penetrated  with  it,  the  nearer  it 
approaches  to  perfection.  It  seems  equally  un- 
necessary to  prove  that  terror  is  a  very  different 
disposition  from  this  fear  :  for,  on  the  contrary, 
the  most  effectual  mean  of  not  fearing  God, 
in  the  first  sense  is  to  fear  him  in  the  last. 
'  Fear  not,'  said  Moses  formerly,  'for  God  is 
come  to  {)rove  you,  that  his  fear  niay  be  be- 
fore your  faces.  Fear  not,  that  ye  may  fear  ;' 
this  is  only  a  seeming  contradiction.  The  only 
way  to  prevent  fear,  that  is,  horror,  on  ac- 
count of  the  judgments  of  God,  is  to  have  '  his 
fear  before  your  eyes,'  that  is,  such  a  love, 
and  such  a  deference  for  him,  as  religion  re- 
quires. Agreeably  to  this,  it  is  elsewhere 
said,  perfect  lore  (and  perfect,  love,  in  this 
passage,  is  nothing  but  the  fear  of  which  I 
am  speaking),  '  perfect  love  castethout  fear;' 
that  is,  a  horror  on  account  of  God's  judg- 
ments :  for  the  more  love  we  have  for  him, 
the  stronger  assurance  shall  we  enjoy,  that 
his  judgments  have  nothing  in  them  danger- 
ous to  us. 

3.  But,  beside  these  two  notions  of  fear, 
there  is  a  third,  which  is  more  nearly  allied  to 
our  text,  a  notion  that  is  neither  so  general  as 
the  last,  nor  so  particular  as  the  first.  Fear, 
in  this  third  sense,  is  a  disposition  whicli  con- 
fiiders  him  who  is  the  object  of  it  as  alone  pos- 
sessing all  that  can  contribute  to  our  happi- 
ness or  misery.  Distinguish  here  a  particu- 
lar from  a  general  happiness.  Every  being 
around  us,  by  a  wise  disposal  of  Providence, 
has  some  degree  of  power  to  favour,  or  to  hin- 
der, a  particular  happiness.  Every  thing  that 


can  increase,  or  abate,  the  motion  of  our  bo- 
dies, may  contribute  to  the  advancement,  or 
to  the  diminution,  of  the  particular  happiness 
of  our  bodies.  Every  thing  that  can  eluci- 
date, or  obscure  the  ideas  of  our  minds,  may 
contribute  to  the  particular  happiness  or  mis- 
ery of  our  minds.  Every  thing  that  can  pro- 
cure to  our  souls  either  a  sensation  of  plea- 
sure, or  a  sensation  of  pain,  may  contribute  to 
the  particular  happiness  or  misery  of  our 
souls.  But  it  is  neither  a  particular  happi- 
ness, nor  a  particular  misery,  that  we  mean  to 
treat  of  now :  we  mean  a  general  happiness. 
It  often  happens,  that  all  things  being  consid- 
ered, a  j)articular  happiness,  considered  in 
the  whole  of  our  felicity,  is  a  general  misery  : 
and,  on  the  contrary,  it  often  happens  that  all 
things  being  considered,  a  particular  misery, 
in  the  whole  of  our  felicity,  is  a  general  hap- 
piness. It  was  a  particular  misfortune  in  the 
life  of  a  man  to  be  forced  to  bear  the  ampu- 
tation of  a  mortified  arm:  but  weighing  the 
whole  felicity  of  the  life  of  the  man,  this  par- 
ticular misfortune  became  a  good,  because  had 
he  not  consented  to  the  amputation  of  the  mor- 
tified limb,  the  mortification  would  have  been 
fatal  to  his  life,  and  would  have  deprived  him 
of  all  felicity  here.  It  was  a  particular  cala- 
mity, that  a  believer  should  be  called  to  sufFer 
martyrdom  :  but  in  the  whole  felicity  of  that 
believer,  martyrdom  was  a  happiness,  yea,  an 
inestimable  happiness:  by  suffering  the  pain 
of  a  few  moments  he  has  escaped  those  eter- 
nal torments  which  would  have  attended  his 
apostacy  ;  the  bearing  of  a  '  light  affliction, 
which  was  but  for  a  moment,  hath  wrought 
out  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight 
of  glory,'  2  Cor.  iv.  17. 

Let  us  sum  up  these  reflections.  To  con- 
sider a  being  as  capable  of  rendering  us  happy 
or  miserable,  in  the  general  sense  that  wg 
have  given  of  the  words  happiness  and  misery, 
is  to  fear  that  being,  in  the  third  sense  which 
we  have  given  to  the  term /car.  This  is  the 
sense  of  the  word  fear,  in  the  text,  and  in 
many  other  passages  of  the  holy  Scriptures. 
Thus  Isaiah  uses  it, '  Say  ye  not  a  confedera- 
cy, to  all  them  to  whom  this  people  say  a 
confederacy  :  neither  fear  ye  their  fear,  nor 
be  afraid.  Sanctify  the  Lord  of  hosts  himself, 
and  let  him  be  your  fear,  and  let  him  be 
your  dread,'  ch.  viii.  12,  13.  So  Jigain, 
'  Who  art  thou,  that  thou  shouldst  be  afraid 
of  a  man  that  shall  die,  and  of  the  son 
of  man  that  shall  be  made  as  grass.'"  ch. 
li.  12.  And  again  in  these  well  known  words 
of  our  Saviour,  '  fear  not  them  which  kill  the 
body,  but  are  not  able  to  kill  the  soul :  but 
rather  fear  him  which  is  able  to  destroy  both 
soul  and  body  in  hell,'  Matt.  x.  28.  To  kill 
the  body  is  to  cause  a  particular  evil ;  and  to 
fear  t/tcm  ichicli  kill  the  body  is  to  regard  the 
death  of  the  body  as  a  general  evil,  determin- 
ing the  whole  of  our  felicity.  To  fear  him 
vhich  is  able  to  destroy  the  soul,  is  to  consider 
the  loss  of  the  soul  as  the  general  evil,  and 
him  tcho  is  able  to  destroy  the  soul  as  alone 
able  to  determine  the  whole  of  our  felicity  or 
misery.  In  this  sense  we  understand  the 
text,  and  this  sense  seexns  most  agreeable 
to  the  scope  of  the  place. 

The  propliet  was  endeavouring  to  abase  false 
gods  in  the  eyes  of  liiscoimtrymen,  while  the 


Sbh.  XII.] 


OBJECT  OF  TEAR. 


129 


true  God  was  suffering  their  worshippers  to 
carry  his  people  into  captivity.  He  was  aim- 
ing to  excite  the  Jews  to  worship  the  God  of 
heaven  and  earth,  and  to  despise  idols  even 
amidst  the  trophies  and  the  triumphs  of  idol- 
aters. He  was  trying  to  convince  them  fully, 
that  idols  could  procure  neither  happiness  nor 
misery  to  mankind  ;  and  that,  if  their  wor- 
shippers should  inflict  any  punishments  on  the 
captives,  they  would  be  only  particular  evils, 
permitted  by  the  Providence  of  God  ;  '  Be  not 
dismayed  at  the  signs  of  heaven  because  the 
heathen  are  dismayed  at  them.  One  cutteth 
a  tree  out  of  the  forest  with  the  axe  to  make 
idols ;  another  decks  them  with  silver  and 
with  gold,  and  fastens  them  with  nails  and 
with  hammers  that  they  move  not.  The]/  are 
upright  as  the  palm-tree,  but  speak  not.  They 
must  needs  be  borne,  because  they  cannot  go. 
Be  not  afraid  of  them,  for  they  cannot  do  evil, 
neither  also  is  it  in  them  to  do  good,'  ver.  2,  &c. 
Remark  here  tiie  double  motive  o^  not  fearing 
them  :  on  the  one  hand,  they  cannot  do  evil ; 
on  the  other,  neither  is  it  in  them  to  do  good. 
This  justifies  the  idea  that  we  give  you  of 
fear,  by  representing  it  as  that  disposition, 
which  considers  its  object  as  having  our  hap- 
piness and  our  misery  in  its  power.  Instead  of 
fearing  that  they  should  destroy  you,  announce 
ye  their  destruction,  and  say  unto  tlccm,  in 
the  language  of  the  Babylonians  who  worship 
them,*  '  the  gods  that  have  not  made  the 
heavens,  and  the  earth,  even  they  shall  per- 
ish from  the  earth,  and  from  under  the  hea- 
vens,' ver.  11.  Having  thus  shown  that  hea- 
then gods  could  not  be  the  object  of  that  fear, 
which  considers  a  being  as  able  to  procure 
happiness  and  misery;  the  prophet  represents 
the  God  of  Israel  as  alone  worthy  of  such  a 
homage,  '  He  hath  made  the  earth  by  his  pow- 
er, he  hath  established  the  world  by  his  wis- 
dom, and  hath  stretched  out  the  heavens  by 
his  discretion.  When  he  uttereth  his  voice 
there  is  a  multitude  of  waters  in  the  heavens, 
and  he  causeth  the  vapours  to  ascend  from 
the  ends  of  the  earth  :  he  maketh  lightnings 
with  rain,  and  bringeth  forth  the  wind  out  of 
his  treasures.  Molten  images  are  falsehood 
and  vanity.  The  portion  of  Jacob  is  not  like 
them  :  for  he  is  the  former  of  all  things,  and 
Israel  is  the  rod  of  his  inheritance;  the  Lord 
of  hosts  is  his  name,'  ver.  12,  &c.  The  pro- 
phet, his  own  mind  being  filled  with  these  no- 
ble ideas,  supposes  that  every  other  mind  is 
filled  with  them  too  ;  and  in  an  ecstacy  ex- 
claims, '  Who  would  not  fear  thee,  O  King  of 
nations.''   for  to  thee  doth  it  appertain  !' 

Fear,  then,  taken  in  this  third  sense,  is  a 
homage  that  cannot  be  paid  to  a  creature 
without  falling  into  idolatry.  To  regard  a 
being,  as  capable  of  determining  the  happi- 
ness or  misery  of  an  immortal  soul,  is  to  pay 
the  honours  of  adoration  to  him.  As  it  can 
be  said  of  none  but  God,  '  it  is  my  happiness 
to  draw  near  to  him  :'  so  of  him  alone  can  it 
be  truly  said,  '  it  is  my  misery  to  depart  from 
him,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  28.  Moreover,  this  homage 
belongs  to  him  in  a  complete  and  eminent 
manner.  He  possesses  all  without  restric- 
tion that  can  contribute  to  our  felicity,  or  to 

*  These  words  are  in  the  Chaldean  language  in  the 
original. 


our  misery.  Three  ideas,  under  which  we  are 
going  to  consider  God,  will  prove  what  we 
have  affirmed. 

I.  God  is  a  being,  whose  will  is  self-efR- 
cient. 

II.  God  is  the  only  being,  who  can  ftct  im- 
mediately on  spiritual  souls. 

III.  God  is  the  only  being,  who  can  make 
all  creatures  concur  with  his  designs.  From 
these  three  notions  of  God  follows  this  conse- 
quence, '  Who  would  not  fear  thee,  O  King 
of  nations  .'" 

I.  God  is  a  being,  whose  will  is  self-efficient. 
We  call  that  will  self-efficient,  which  infallibly 
produces  its  effect.  By  this  efficiency  of  will 
we  distinguish  God  from  every  other  being, 
either  real  or  possible.  No  one  but  God  has 
a  self-efficient  will.  There  is  no  one  but  God 
of  whom  the  argument  from  the  will  to  the 
act  is  demonstrative.  Of  none  but  God  can 
we  reason  in  this  manner :  he  wills,  therefore 
he  does.  Every  intelligent  being  has  some 
degree  of  efficiency  in  his  will :  my  will  has 
an  efficiency  on  my  arm  ;  I  will  to  move  my 
arm,  my  arm  instantly  moves.  But  there  is 
as  great  a  difference  between  the  efficiency  of 
the  will  of  a  creature,  and  the  efficiency  of  the 
will  of  the  Creator,  as  there  is  between  a 
finite  and  an  infinite  being.  The  will  of  a 
created  intelligence,  properly  speaking,  is 
not  self  efficient,  for  it  has  only  a  borrowed 
efficiency.  When  he  from  whom  it  is  deriv 
ed,  restrains  it,  this  created  intelligence  will 
have  only  a  vain,  weak,  inefficient  will.  I 
have  to-day  a  will  efficient  to  move  my  arm  : 
but  if  that  Being  from  whom  I  derive  this  will, 
should  contract,  or  relax,  the  fibres  of  this 
arm,  my  will  to  move  it  would  become  vain, 
weak,  and  inefficient.  I  have  a  will  efficient 
on  the  whole  mass  of  this  body,  to  which  it 
has  pleased  the  Creator  to  unite  my  immor- 
tal soul :  but  were  God  to  dissolve  the  bond, 
by  which  he  has  united  these  two  parts  of  me 
together,  all  that  I  might  then  will  in  regard 
to  this  body  would  be  vain,  weak,  and  desti- 
tute of  any  effect.  When  the  Intelligence, 
who  united  my  soul  to  my  body,  shall  have 
once  pronounced  the  word  '  return,'  Ps.  xc. 
3 ;  that  portion  of  matter  to  which  my  soul 
was  united  will  be  as  free  from  the  power  of 
my  will  as  the  matter  that  constitutes  the 
body  of  the  sun,  or  as  that  which  constitutes 
bodies,  to  which  neither  my  senses,  nor  my 
imagination,  can  attain.  All  this  comes  to 
pass,  because  the  efliciency  of  a  creature  is  a 
borrowed  efficiency,  whereas  that  of  the  Cre- 
ator is  self-efficient  and  underivcd. 

Farther,  the  efliciency  of  a  creature's  will 
is  finite.  My  will  is  efficient  in  regard  to 
the  portion  of  matter  to  which  I  am  united  : 
but  how  contracted  is  my  empire  !  how  lim- 
ited is  my  sovereignty .''  It  extends  no  far- 
ther than  the  mass  of  my  body  extends  ; 
and  the  mass  of  my  body  is  only  a  few  inch- 
es broad,  and  a  few  cubits  high.  What  if 
those  mortals,who  are  called  k!ngs,monarchs, 
emperors,  could  by  foreign  aid  extend  the 
efficiency  of  their  wills  to  the  most  distant 
places  ;  what  if  they  were  able  to  extend  it 
to  the  extremities  of  this  planet,  which  wo 
inhabit ;  how  little  way,  after  all,  is  it  to  the 
extremities  of  this  planet  ?  What  if,  by  the 
power  of  sulphur  and  saltpetre,   these  men 


130 


GOD  THE  ONLY 


[Ser.  xir. 


extend  the  efficiency  of  their  will  to  a  little 
height  in  the  air ;  how  low  after  all,  is  that 
height  ?  Were  a  sovereign  to  unite  every 
degree  of  power,  that  he  could  procure,  to 
extend  his  efficiency  to  the  nearest  planet,  all 
his  effijrts  would  be  useless.  The  efficiency 
of  a  creature's  will  is  finite,  as  well  as  bor- 
rowed :  that  of  the  Creator  is  independent 
and  universal ;  it  extends  to  the  most  re- 
mote beings,  as  well  as  to  those  that  surround 
us,  it  extends  alike  to  all  actual  and  to  all 
possible  beings.  My  brethren,  are  ye  stricken 
with  this  idea  ?  Do  ye  perceive  its  relation 
to  our  subject.'  'Who  would  not  fear  thee, 
O  king  of  nations  .'' 

Our  low  and  grovelling  minds,  low  and  gro- 
velling as  they  are,  have  yet  some  notion  of 
the  grand  and  the  marvellous  ;  and  nothing 
can  impede,  nothing  can  limit,  nothing  can 
equal  our  notion  of  it;  when  we  give  it  scope 
it  presently  gets  beyond  every  thing  that  we 
see,  and  every  thing  that  exists.  Reality  is 
not  sufficient,  fancy  must  be  indulged  ;  real 
existences  are  too  indigent,  possible  beings 
must  be  imagined ;  and  we  presently  quit 
the  real,  to  range  through  the  ideal  world. 
Hence  come  poetical  fictions,  and  fabulous 
narrations ;  and  hence  marvellous  adven- 
tures, and  romantic  enchantments.  A  man 
is  assuredly  an  object  of  great  pity  when  he 
pleases  himself  with  such  fantastic  notions. 
But,  the  principle  that  occasioned  these  fic- 
tions, ouglit  to  render  the  mind  of  man  res- 
pectable :  it  is  the  very  principle  which  we 
have  mentioned.  It  is  because  the  idea,  that 
the  mind  of  man  has  of  the  grand  and  mar- 
vellous, finds  nothing  to  impede,  nothing  to 
limit,  nothing  to  equal  it.  The  most  able 
architect  cannot  fully  gratify  this  idea,  al- 
though he  employs  his  genius,  his  materials, 
and  his  artists,  to  erect  a  superb  and  regular 
edifice  in  a  few  years.  All  this  is  far  below 
the  notion  which  we  have  of  the  grand  and  the 
marvellous.  Our  mind  imagines  an  enchant- 
er, who,  uniting  in  an  instant  all  the  secrets 
of  art,  and  all  the  wonders  of  nature,  by  a 
single  word  of  his  mouth,  or  by  a  single  act 
of  his  will,  produces  a  house,  a  palace,  or  a 
city.  The  most  able  mechanic  cannot  fully 
gratify  this  idea,  although  with  a  marvellous 
industry  he  builds  a  vessel,  which,  resisting 
winds  and  waves,  passes  from  the  east  to 
the  west,  and  discovers  new  worlds,  which 
nature  seemed  to  have  forbidden  us  to  ap- 
proach, by  the  immense  spaces  that  it  has 
placed  between  us.  Our  mind  fancies  an 
enchantment,  which  giving  to  a  body  natu- 
rally ponderous  the  levity  of  air,  the  activity 
of  fire,  the  agility  of  flame,  or  of  ethereal 
matter,  passes  the  most  immeasurable  spaces 
with  a  rapidity  swifter  than  that  of  lightning. 
It  is  God,  it  is  God  alone,  my  brethren,  who 
is  the  original  of  these  ideas.  God  only 
possesses  that  which  gratifies  and  absorbs  our 
idea  of  the  grand  and  the  marvellous.  The 
extravagance  of  fable  does  not  lie  in  the  ima- 
gining of  these  things  ;  but  in  the  misapplica- 
tion of  them.  Must  an  edifice  be  formed  by 
a  single  act  of  the  will .'  In  God  we  find  the 
reality  of  this  idea.  He  forms  not  only  a 
palace,  a  city,  or  a  kingdom,  but  a  whole 
world,  by  a  single  act  of  his  will;  because 
his  will  is  always  efficient,  and  always  pro- 


duces its  effect.  *  God  said,  Let  there  be 
light,  and  there  was  light,'  Gen.  i.  3.  '  He 
spake  and  it  was  done  :  he  commanded  and  it 
stood  fast,'  Ps.  xxxiii.  9.  Must  the  immense 
distances  of  the  world  be  passed  in  an  in- 
stant .''  In  God  we  find  the  reality  of  this 
idea.  What  am  I  saying  ?  we  find  more 
than  this  in  God.  He  does  not  pass  through 
the  spaces  that  separate  the  heavens  from  the 
earth,  he  fills  them  with  the  immensity  of  his 
essence.  '  Will  God  indeed  dwell  on  the 
earth .'  Behold,  the  heaven,  and  heaven  of 
heavens  cannot  contain  thee  !'  I  Kings  viii. 
27.  '  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  The  heaven  is  my 
throne,  and  the  earth  is  my  footstool :  where 
is  the  house  that  ye  build  unto  me  .'  And 
where  is  the  place  of  my  rest .'  For  all 
those  things  hath  mine  hand  made,  saith  the 
Lord,'  Isa.  Ixvi.  1,  2. 

Were  it  necessary  to  prove  that  this  idea 
is  not  a  freak  of  our  fancy,  but  that  it  arises 
from  an  original  which  really  exists  :  I  would 
divide,  the  better  to  prove  my  proposition, 
my  opponents  into  two  classes.  The  first 
should  consist  of  those  who  already  admit 
the  existence  of  a  perfect  Being  :  to  them  I 
could  easily  prove  that  efficiency  of  will  is  a 
perfection,  and  that  we  cannot  conceive  a 
Being  perfect,  who  does  not  possess  this  per- 
fection. It  is  essential  to  the  perfection  of  a 
Being,  that  we  should  be  able  to  say  of  him, 
'Who  hath  resisted  his  will.''  Rom.  ix.  19. 
Could  any  other  being  resist  his  will,  that 
being-  would  be  free  from  his  dominion  ;  and 
would  subsist  not  onlj'  independently  of  him, 
but  even  in  spite  of  him  :  and  then  we  could 
conceive  a  being  more  perfect  than  him,  that 
is,  a  being  from  whose  dominion  nothing 
could  free  itself. 

In  the  second  class  I  would  place  those 
who  deny  the  existence  of  a  supreme  Being  ; 
and  to  them  I  would  prove  that  the  exist- 
ence of  beings  who  have  a  derived  efficiency 
of  will,  proves  the  existence  of  a  Being  whose 
will  is  self-efficient.  Whence  have  finite  be- 
ings derived  that  limited  efficiency,  which 
they  possess,  if  not  from  a  self-efficient  Being, 
who  has  distributed  portions  of  efficiency 
among  subordinate  beings .' 

But  it  is  less  needful  to  prove  that  there  is 
a  Being  who  has  such  a  perfection,  than  it 
is  to  prove,  that  he  who  possesses  it  merits, 
and  alone  merits,  such  a  fear  as  we  have  des- 
cribed :  that  he  deserves,  and  that  he  alone 
deserves,  to  be  considered  as  having  our  felici- 
ty, and  our  misery,  in  his  power.  '  Who 
would  not  fear  thee,  O  King  of  nations.'  to 
thee  doth  it  not  appertain .'  'And  who  would 
not  consider  thee  as  the  onJjj  object  of  this 
fear  ?  To  whom  beside  does  it  appertain  .'  The 
eriiciency  of  a  creature's  will  proceeds  from 
thee,  and  as  it  proceeds  from  thee  alone,by  thee 
alone  does  it  subsist;  one  act  of  thy  will  gave 
it  existence,  and  one  act  of  thy  will  can  take 
that  existence  away  I  The  most  formidable 
creatures  are  only  terrible  through  the  exer- 
cise of  a  small  portion  of  efficiency  derived 
from  thee  ;  thou  art  the  source,  the  soul,  ot 
all !  Pronounce  the  sentence  of  my  misery, 
and  I  shall  be  miserable  :  pronounce  that  of 
my  felicity,  and  I  shall  be  happy  :  nor  shall 
any  thing  be  able  to  disconcert  a  happiness 
that  is  maintained  by  an  efficient  will,  which 


Ser.  XII.] 


OBJECT  OF  FEAR. 


131* 


is  superior  to  all  opposition  :  before  which 
all  is  nothing,  or  rather,  which  is  itself  all  in 
all,  because  its  efficiency  communicates  effi- 
ciency to  all !  '  Who  would  not  fear  thee,  O 
Kinj  of  nations  ?  Doth  not  fear  appertain  to 
thee  alone  r' 

Perhaps  the  proving  of  a  self-efficient  will 
may  be  more  than  is  necessary  to  the  exhi- 
biting of  an  object  of  human  fear.  Must  such 
a  grand  spring  move  to  destroy  such  a  con- 
temptible creature  as  man  ?  He  is  only  a  va- 
pour, a  particle  of  air  is  sufficient  to  dissipate 
it :  he  is  only  a  flower,  a  blast  of  wind  is 
sufficient  to  make  it  fade.  This  is  undenia- 
ble in  regard  to  the  material  and  visible  man, 
in  which  we  too  often  place  all  our  glory.  It 
18  not  only,  then,  to  the  infinite  God,  it  is 
not  only  to  him  whose  will  is  self-efficient, 
that  man  owes  the  homage  of  fear :  it  may 


be  said  that  he  owes  it,  in  a  sense,  to  all  those 
creatures,  to  which  Providence  has  given  a 
presidency  over  his  happiness  or  his  misery. 
He  ought  not  only  to  say,  '  Who  would  not 
fear  thee,  O  King  of  nations .''  for  to  thee 
doth  it  appertain  !'  But  he  ought  also  to  say, 
Who  would  not  fear  thee,  O  particle  of  air .'' 
Who  would  not  fear  thee,  O  blast  ofwind.'' 
Who  would  not  fear  thee,  O  '  crushing  of  a 
moth .''  Job.  iv.  15.  Because  there  needs 
only  a  particle  of  air,  there  needs  only  a  puff 
of  wind,  there  needs  only  the  '  crushing  of  a 
moth,'  to  subvert  his  happiness,  and  to  des- 
troy his  life.  But  ye  would  entertain  very 
different  notions  of  human  happiness  and 
misery,  were  ye  to  consider  man  in  a  nobler 
light;  and  to  attend  to  our  second  notion  of 
God,  as  an  object  of  fear. 


SERMON    XII. 


GOD  THE  ONLY  OBJECT  OF  FEAR. 
PART    II. 


Jeremiah  x.  7. 
Wlio  would  not  fear  thee,  0  King  of  nations  ?   For  to  thee  doth  it  appertain.' 


God  is  the  only  being  who  has  a  supreme 
dominion  over  the  operations  of  a  spiritual 
and  immortal  soul.  The  discussion  of  this 
article  would  lead  us  into  observations  too 
abstract  for  this  place ;  and  therefore  we 
make  it  a  law  to  abridge  our  reflections.  We 
must  beg  leave  .to  remark,  however,  that  we 
ought  to  think  so  highly  of  the  nature  of  man 
as  to  admit  this  principle:  God  alone  is  able 
to  exercise  an  absolute  dominion  over  ^a  spi- 
ritual and  immortal  soul.  From  this  princi- 
ple we  conclude,  that  God  alone  has  the  hap- 
piness and  misery  of  man  in  his  power.  God 
alone,  merits  the  supreme  homage  of  fear. 
God  alone,  not  only  in  opposition  to  all  the; 
imaginary  gods  of  Paganism,  but  also  in  op- 
position to  every  being  that  really  exists,  is 
worthy  of  this  part  of  the  adoration  of  a 
spiritual  and  immortal  creature.  '  Who 
would  not  fear  thee,  O  King  of  nations .''' 

Weigh  the  emphatical  words  which  we 
just  now  quoted,  '  Who  art  thou,  that  thou 
ehouldst  be  afraid  of  a  man  that  shall  die  .''' 
Who  art  thou,  immaterial  spirit,  that  thou 
shouldst  be  afraid  of  a  man  .''  Who  art  thou, 
immortal  spirit,  that  tliou  shouldst  be  afraid 
of  a  man  that  shall  die  .'' 

Who  art  thou,  immaterial  spirit,  that  thou 
shouldst  be  afraid  of  a  man  ?  Man  has  no  im- 
mediate power  over  a  spirit ;  he  can  affect 
it  only  by  means  of  body.  It  is  only  by  the 
body  that  a  tyrant  can  cause  a  little  anguish 
in  the  soul.  It  is  only  by  the  body  as  a  mean 
that  he  can  flatter  some  of  the  propensities 
of  the  soul,  and  propose  himself  to  it  as  an 
object  of  its  hope  and  fear.    But  beside  that 


this  power  is  infinitely  small  while,  the  soul 
is  subject  to  it ;  beside  that  the  soul  is  capable 
of  a  thousand  pleasures  and  a  thousand  pains, 
during  its  union  to  the  body,  which  man  can- 
not excite  ;  beside  these  advantages,  it  is  be- 
yond a  doubt,  that  this  power  of  a  tyrant  can 
endure  no  longer  than  the  union  of  the  soul 
to  the  body  does,  by  the  mean  of  which  the 
tyrant  affects  it.  If  a  tyrant  exercise  his 
power  to  a  certain  degree^  he  loses  it. 
Wlien  he  has  carried  to  a  certain  degree  that 
violent  motion  which  he  produces  in  the 
body,  in  order  to  afflict  the  soul,  which  is 
united  to  it,  he  breaks  the  bond  that  unites 
the  soul  to  the  body,  and  frees  his  captive  by 
overloading  him  with  chains.  The  union 
being  dissolved  the  soul  is  free  ;  it  no  long- 
er depends  on  the  tyrant,  because  he  commu- 
nicates with  it  only  by  means  of  body.  Af- 
ter the  destruction  of  the  organs  of  the  body, 
the  soul  is  superior  to  every  effort  of  a  des- 
pot's rage.  Death  removes  the  soul  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  most  powerful  monarch.  Af- 
ter death  the  soul  becomes  invisible,  and  a 
tyrant's  eye  searches  for  it  in  vain  :  it  ceases 
to  be  tangible,  his  chains  and  his  fetters  can 
hold  it  no  more  :  it  is  no  more  divisible,  his 
gibbets  and  his  racks,  his  pincers  and  his 
wheels,  can  rend  it  no  more :  none  of  his 
fires  can  burn  it,  for  it  is  not  combustible ; 
nor  can  any  of  his  dungeons  confine  it,  for 
it  is  immaterial. 

Would  to  God,  my  brethren,  that  we  were 
well  acquainted  with  our  real  grandeur,  and, 
perceiving  our  own  excellence,  were  above 
trembling  at  those  contemptible  worms  of  the 


132 


GOD  THE  ONLY 


[Seh.  XII. 


earth,  who  fancy  that  they  know  how  to  ter- 
rify us,  only  because  they  havfe  acquired  the 
audacity  of  addressing  us  with  indolence  and 
pride.  There  is  no  extravagance,  there  is 
not  even  a  shadow  of  extravagance,  in  what 
we  have  advanced  on  the  grandeur  of  an  im- 
material spirit.  We  have  not  said  enough. 
It  is  not  enough  to  say  that  a  soul  can  nei- 
ther be  disordered  by  chains,  nor  racks,  nor 
gibbets,  nor  pincers,  nor  fires  ;  it  defies  the 
united  powers  of  universal  nature.  Yea,  were 
all  the  waters  that  hang  in  the  clouds,  and 
all  that  roll  in  the  sea,  were  every  drop  col- 
lected into  one  prodigious  deluge  to  over- 
whelm it,  it  would  not  be  drowned.  Were 
mountains  the  most  huge,  were  masses  the 
most  enormous,  were  all  matter  to  compose, 
if  I  may  speak  so,  one  vast  ponderous  weight 
to  fall  on  and  to  crush  it,  it  would  not  be 
bruised  ;  yea  it  would  not  be  moved.  Were 
all  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  with  all  the  brim- 
stone of  Asphaltites,  and  with  every  other  in- 
flammable matter,  kindled  in  one  blaze  to  con- 
sume it,  it  would  not  be  burnt.  Yea,  M'hen 
*  the  heavens  pass  away  with  a  great  noise, 
when  the  constellations  of  heaven  fall,  when 
the  elements  melt  with  fervent  heat,  when 
the  earth,  and  all  the  works  that  are  therein, 
are  burnt  up,'  2  Pet.  iii.  10;  when  all  these 
things  are  dissolved,  thou,  human  soul !  shalt 
surmount  all  these  vicissitudes,  and  rise  above 
all  their  ruins  !  '  Who  art  thou  V  immaterial 
spirit !  '  who  art  thou  to  bo  afraid  of  a  man  V 

But  if  the  soul,  considered  in  its  nature  ;  if 
the  soul,  as  a  spiritual  being,  be  superior  to 
human  tyranny  ;  what  homage,  on  this  very 
accoxmt,  what  submission  and  abasement,  or, 
to  confine  ourselves  to  the  text,  what  fear 
ought  we  not  to  exercise  towards  the  Su- 
preme Being  .''  '  Who  would  not  fear  thee,  O 
King  of  nations  .-"  God  alone  has  the  power 
of  destroying  an  immaterial  soul ;  God  alone 
has  the  power  of  preserving  it.  God  is  the 
only  Father  of  Spirits.  '  Fear  not  them 
which  kill  the  body :  but  fear  him  which  is 
able  to  destroy  the  soul.  Yea,  I  say  unto 
you,  fear  him,'  Heb.  xii.  9.  God  alone  can 
act  immediately  on  a  spiritual  creature.  He 
needs  neither  the  fragrance  of  flowers,  nor 
the  savour  of  foods,  nor  any  of  the  mediums 
of  matter,  to  communicate  agreeable  sensa- 
tions to  the  soul.  He  needs  neither  the  ac- 
tion of  fire,  the  rigour  of  racks,  nor  the  gall- 
ing of  chains,  to  produce  sensations  of  pain. 
He  acts  immediately  on  the  soul.  It  is  he, 
human  soul  !  it  is  he,  who,  by  leaving  thee  to 
revolve  ni  the  dark  void  of  thine  unenlighten- 
ed mind,  can  deliver  thee  up  to  all  the  tor- 
ments that  usually  follow  ignorance,  uncer- 
tainty, and  doubt.  But  the  same  God  can 
expand  thine  intelligence  just  when  he  pleases 
and  enable  it  to  lay  down  principles,  to  infer 
consequences,  to  establish  conclusions.  It  is 
lie,  who  can  impart  new  ideas  to  thee,  teach 
thee  to  combine  those  which  thou  hast  already 
acquired,  enable  thee  to  multiply  numbers, 
show  thee  how  to  conceive  the  infinitely  va- 
rious arrangements  of  matter,  acquaint  thee 
with  the  essence  of  thy  tliought,  its  different 
modifications,  and  its  endless  operations.  It 
is  he,  vi'ho  can  grant  thee  new  revelations, 
devclopc  those  which  he  has  already  given 
thee,  but  which  have  hitherto  lain  in  obscuri- 


ty ;  he  can  inform  thee  of  his  purposes,  hig 
counsels  and  decrees,  and  lay  before  thee,  if 
I  may  venture  to  say  so,  the  whole  history  of 
time  and  eternity :  for  nothing  either  has 
subsisted  in  time,  or  will  subsist  in  eternity, 
but  what  was  preconceived  in  the  counsels  of 
his  infinite  intelligence.  It  is  he,  who  alone, 
and  for  ever,  can  excite  infinite  sensations  of 
pleasure  or  pain  within  thee.  It  is  he,  who 
can  apprehend  the  soul  of  a  tyrant,  amidst 
the  most  gay  and  festive  objects,  among  the 
most  servile  flatteries  of  a  court,  and,  in  spite 
of  a  concourse  of  pleasures,  produce  such 
horrors  and  fears,  and  exquisite  torments,  as 
shall  change  even  a  Belshazzar's  '  counte- 
nance, trouble  his  thoughts,  loose  the  joints 
of  his  loins,  and  smite  his  knees  one  against 
another,'  Dan.  v.  G.  And  it  is  he  also,  who 
is  able  to  divert  a  sensation  of  pain,  amidst 
the  greatest  torments,  yea,  to  absorb  a  strong 
sensation  of  pain  in  a  stronger  sensation  of 
pleasure.  He  can  make  a  martyr  triumph, 
all  involved  in  fire  and  flame,  by  shedding 
abroad  effusions  of  love  in  his  heart ;  '  the 
peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understand- 
ing,' and  which  '  keeps  the  senses,'*  Rom.  v. 
5  ;  Phil.  iv.  7  ;  that  is,  a  peace  which  is  supe- 
rior to  the  action  of  the  senses,  and  not  to  be 
interrupted  by  the  exercise  of  them.  It  is 
he,  who  can  enable  him  to  celebrate  a  victory 
during  an  apparent  defeat :  who  can  overflow, 
in  a  sufferer's  heart,  the  pains  of  martyrdom 
with  the  pleasures  of  paradise,  and  fill  the 
mouth  with  shouts  of  triumph  and  songs  of 
praise. 

Speak,  ye  martyrs  of  Jesus  Christ,  tell  us 
what  influence  the  infinite  God  has  over  the 
soul !  Be  ye  our  divines  and  philosci])hers. 
What  did  ye  feel,  when,  penetrating  through 
a  shower  of  stones,  ye  cried,  '  Behold,  we  see 
the  heavens  opened,  and  the  Son  of  man 
standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God  .'"  Acts  vii. 
56.  What  did  ye  feel,  when,  experiencing 
all  the  rage  of  cruel  Nero,  ye  exulted,  'We 
rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God  .-"  Rom.  v. 
2.  But  this  is  not  the  whole  of  the  believer's 
joy.  The  expectation  of  arriving  at  great 
happiness  by  means  of  tribulation  may  natu- 
rally produce  a  patient  submission  to  tribula- 
tions. But  here  is  something  more.  '  We 
rejoice,'  says  St.  Paul,  '  in  hope  of  the  glory 
of  God.  And  not  only  so,'  adds  he  (weigh 
this  expressive  sentence,  my  brethren.)  '  not 
only  so  ;.'  it  is  not  only  '  the  hope  of  the  glory 
of  God'  that  supports  and  comforts  us  ;  '  not 
only  so  ;  but  we  glory  in  tribulations  also, 
knowing  that  tribulation  worketh  patience, 
and  patience  experience,  and  experience 
hope :  and  hope  maketh  not  ashamed,  be- 
cause the  love  of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  our 
hearts,  by  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  given  un 
to  us.'  What  did  ye  feel,  when  your  execu- 
tioners, not  being  able  to  obtain  your  volun- 
tary adoration  of  their  idols,  endeavoured  to 
obtain  it  by  force  ;  when,  refusing  to  offer 
that  incense  which  they  had   put  into  your 

*  Our  author  uses  the  eommon  reading  of  the  French 
Bible,  which  is,  garde  les  se^is.  The  original  word  is 
used  in  the  Holy  ?ctiptures  for  reflection,  Kom.  vii. 
25,  and  for  sensatiuii,  Jam.  i.  23  The  reason  of  our 
following  the  French  reading  in  this  place  is  obvious. 
Where  the  same  reason  does  not  oblige  us,  we  have 
made  it  a.  law,  in  quotations  of  Scripture,  scrupu- 
lously to  adhere  to  our  English  text. 


Seh.  XII.] 


OBJECT  OF  FEAR. 


1 53 


hands,  ye  sang, '  Blessed  be  the  Lord,  who 
teacheth  our  liands  to  war  and  our  fingers  to 
fight  ?'  Ps.  cxliv.  1.  What  did  ye  feel,  when, 
wrapping  your  heads  in  the  few  rags  that 
persecution  had  left  you,  ye  refused  to  look 
at  the  worship  of  idols,  and  patiently  submit- 
ted to  be  bruised  with  bastinadoes,  condemn- 
ed to  the  galleys,  and  chained  to  the  oars  ? 
What  did  ye  feel,  when,  in  that  painful  situa- 
tion, ye  employed  the  remainder  of  your 
strength  to  look  upward,  and  to  adore  the 
God  of  heaven  and  earth  ?  It  is  God  who 
supports  his  creature  amidst  all  these  tor- 
ments, and  he  alone  can  infinitely  diversify 
and  extend  his  sensibility.  None  but  he  can 
excite  in  the  soul  those  ineffable  pleasures,  of 
which  we  have  no  ideas,  and  which  we  can 
express  by  no  names  :  but  which  will  be  the 
objects  of  our  eternal  praises,  if  they  be  the 
objects  of  our  present  faith  and  hope.  It  is 
God,  and  only  God,  wlio  can  communicate 
happiness  in  this  manner.  None  of  this  pow- 
er is  in  the  hand  of  man.  '  Who  art  thou,' 
Bpiritual  creature,  '  to  be  afraid  of  a  man  .=' 

But  we  add  further,   '  Who  art  thou,'  im- 
mortal creature,  '  to  be  afraid  of  a  man  that 
shall  die.''  The   immortality  of  the   soul  ele- 
vates it  above  a  mortal   power,  and  renders 
supreme  fear  a  just  homage  to  none  but  to  that 
Being  whose   dominion  continues  as  long  as 
the  soul  continues  to  exist.     Can  we  be  such 
novices,  I  do  not  say  in  the  school  of  revela- 
tion, but  in  that  of  the  most  superficial  rea- 
son, as  to  confound   the  duration  of  the  soul 
with  the  duration  of  life  ?    Or  rather,  are  we 
so  expert  in  the  art  of  going  from  the  great 
to  the  little,  from  the  little    to  the  less,  from 
the  less  to  the  least  divisible  parts  of  time,  or 
of  matter,  as  to  assign  an  atom  of  matter  so 
minute,  or  an  instant  of  time  so   inconsider- 
able, that   either  of  them  would  express  the 
shortness  of  a  mortal  life  in   comparison  of 
the  duration  of  an  immortal  soul  ?    The  most 
accurate  teachers  of  logic  and   metaphysics 
forbid  the  use  of  the  terms,  leufflh,  duration, 
period,  in  speaking   of  eternity.     We    may 
say  a  length,  a.  duration,  a  period,  of  a  thou- 
sand, or    of  ten   thousand   millions  of  ages  : 
but  if  we  speak  accurately  and  philosophTcal- 
ly,  we  cannot   say  the  duration   of  eteruitij, 
the  length  of  eternity,  the  periods  of  eternity  '; 
because  all  the   terms   that  are  applicable  to 
time,  are  madequate  to  eternity.     No,  no,  ye 
would  attempt  diflSculties  altogether  insur- 
mountable, were  ye  to    try  to  find  a  quantity 
80  small  as  to  express  the  shortness  of  a  mor- 
tal hfe  m  comparison    of  the  duration  of  an 
immortal    soul.     Not    only  the   most  expert 
mathernatician   is    unequal    to    the   attempt, 
but   it  implies  a  contradiction   to  affirm,  that 
the  infinite  spirit  can  do   this  ;    because  con- 
tradiction never  is  an  objectof  infinite  power, 
and  because  it  implies  a  contradiction  to  mea- 
sure the  existence  of  an  immortal  soul  by  the 
duration    of    a   mortal    life.      It    can    never 
be  said  that   a  hundred  years  are   the  thou- 
eandth  or  the  ten  thousandth,  or  the  hundred 
thousandth  part  of  eternity.  The  inspired  wri- 
ters, whose  language  was  often  as  just  as  their 
Ideas  were  pure,  have  told  us,    that  life  is  as 
the  '  withering  grass  ;'  as  '  a  fading  flower  ;' 
as    a  declining  shadow  ;"  '  swifterlhan'  the 
rapid  and  iniperceplible  motion  of  '  a  \vea- 


yer's  shuttle.'  They  call  it  'a  vapour,"  that 
is  dissipated  in  the  air  ;  'a  dream,'  of  which 
no  vestige  remains  when  the  morning  is  comes 
'  a  thought,'*  that  vanishes  as  soon  as  it  is 
formed  ;  '  a  phantom t  which  walketh  in  a 
vain  show,'  Isa.  xl.  7  ;  Ps.  cii.  11 ;  Job  vii. 
6 ;  James  iv.  14  ;  Ps.  Ixxiii.  20!  But  by  all 
these  emblems  they  meant  to  excite  humility 
in  us  ;  but  not  to  give  us  any  ideas  of  a  pro- 
portion between  the  duration  of  '  withering 
grass,  fading  flowers,  declining  shadows,'  the 
time  of  throwing  a  '  weaver's  shuttle,'  of  the 
dissipation  of 'a  vapour,'  of  the  passing  of  a 
dream,  of  the  forming  and  losing  of  'a 
thought,'  of  the  'appearance  of  a  phantom,' 
and  the  eternal  existence  of  an  immortj,! 
soul.  Such  is  the  life  of  man  !  and  such  the 
duration  of  the  dominion  of  a  tyrant  over  an 
immortal  soul  !  a  duration  which  is  only  a 
point  in  eternity.  A  tyrant  is  mortal,  his 
empire  expires  with  his  life,  and  were  he  to 
employ  the  whole  course  of  his  life  in  tor- 
menting a  martyr,  and  in  trying  to  impair  his 
fehcity,  he  would  resemble  an  idiot  throwing 
stones  at  the  lightning,  while,  in  an  indivisi- 
ble moment,  and  with  an  inconceivable  rapi- 
dity, it  caught  his  eye  as  it  passed  from  tha 
east  to  the  west. 

But  God  is  '  the  King  immortal,'  1  Tim.  u 
17 ;   and  the  eternity  of  his  dominion  is  sufB- 
cient,  iny  dear  hearers,    to  demonstrate  the 
truth   of  the  text,  and  to  fix  all  the   possible 
attention   of  your    minds   on    this    question, 
'Who   would    not  fear  thee,  O  King  of  na- 
tions?' The  immortal  King  is  the  only  fit  ob- 
ject of  the  fear  of  an  immortal  soul.     There 
is  no   empire   immortal  but  that  of  God,  no 
dominion  unchangeable  but  his.     When  the 
soul  enters  eternity  it  will  be  subject  only  to 
the  God  of  eternity:    '  O  God,  of  old   hast 
thou  laid  the  foundation  of  the  earth  ;    and 
the  heavens  are  the  work  of  thy  hands  :  they 
shall  perish,  but  thou  shalt  endure  ;  yea,  all 
of  them    shall    wax  old   like  a  garment;    as 
a  vesture   shalt  thou  change  them,  and  they 
shall  be  changed.     But  thou   art   the    same, 
and  thy  years  shall  have  no  end  !'    Ps.  cii.  24. 
We    must,   of  necessity,  take  up  again  the 
words  space,  duration,  period,  which  we  just 
now  discarded  for  their  impropriety.     During 
the  periods  of  eternity,  through  all  the  dura- 
tion of  the  existence  of  Him,  who  is  the  samo 
and  whose  years  shall  have  no  end,  the  im- 
mortal God  will   for  ever  produce  the  happi- 
ness, or  the  misery,  of  an  immortal  soul.    His 
dominion  over  it  will  be   eternally  exercised 
in  rendering  it  happy  or  miserable.     The  re- 
probate soul  will  eternally  be   the   object   of 
the  avenging   power  of  this  God,  for  it  will 
eternally  be    under  the  hand    of  its    Judge. 
The  fliif  iiful  soul  will  eternally  be  the  reci- 
pient of  the  beneficence  of  theimmortal  God, 
who  is  the  worthy  object,  the  only  object,  of 
solid    hope   and    supreme   fear.       '  Fear   not 
them  v^hich  kill  the  body,  but  are  not  able  to 
kill  the  soul :    but  rather  fear  him  which  is 
able   to  destroy  both   soul  and  body  in    hell  : 
yea,  I  say  unto  you,  fear  him.     Who  would 
not  fear  thee,  O  King  of  nations.'    Doth  not 
fear  appertain  to  thee  alone  .'' 

III.  Here,  my  brethren,  could  I  think  that 


♦  Pg.  xc.  ?.  H^h. 


t  I's.  xxxix.  6,  6.  Heb. 


134 


GOD  THE  ONLY 


[SER.xn. 


I  had  been  preaching  to  marbles,  and  to  rocks  ; 
could  I  think  that  I  had  been  discoursing  to 
men,  who  attended  on  the  preacher  without 
hearing  the  sermon,  or  who  heard  without 
understanding  it ;  I  should  think  other  proofs 
needed  to  demonstrate,  that  God  alone  merit- 
ed the  homage  of  supreme  fear.  Could  I 
think  that  I  had  been  preaching  to  men,  who 
were  all  absorbed  in  sense  and  matter,  and 
who  could  form  no  ideas  in  their  minds  unless 
some  material  objects  were  presented  to  their 
senses,  or  some  imagery  taken  from  sensible 
objects  were  used  to  excite  them :  I  would  in- 
sist on  the  third  part  of  this  discourse.  If 
the  idea  of  a  Being,  whose  will  is  self-efficient 
and  who  can  act  immediately  on  a  spiritual 
Boul,  were  not  sufficient  to  incline  you  to  ren- 
der the  homage  of  fear  to  God,  1  would  re- 
present him  under  the  third  notion,  which 
we  gave  you  of  him,  as  making  all  creatures 
fulfil  his  will.  If  tyrants,  executioners,  pri- 
sons, dungeons,  racks,  tortures,  pincers,  cal- 
drons of  boiling  oil,  gibbets,  stakes,  were  ne- 
cessary ;  if  all  nature,  and  all  the  elements, 
were  wanted  to  inspire  that  soul  with  fear, 
which  is  so  far  elevated  above  the  elements, 
and  all  the  powers  of  nature  :  I  would  prove 
to  you  that  tyrants  and  executioners,  prisons 
and  dungeons,  racks  and  tortures,  and  pin- 
cers, caldrons  of  boiling  oil,  gibbets  and  stakes, 
all  nature  and  all  the  elements,  fulfil  the  de- 
signs of  the  King  of  nations  ;'  and  that,  when 
they  seem  the  least  under  his  direction,  they 
are  invariably  accomplishing  his  will. 

These  are  not  imaginary  ideas  of  mine ; 
but  they  are  taken  from  the  same  Scriptures 
that  establish  the  first  ideas,  which  we  have 
been  explaining.  What  do  our  prophets  and 
apostles  say  of  tyrants,  executioners,  and  per- 
secutors .'  In  what  colours  do  they  paint  them  ? 
Behold,  how  God  contemns  the  proudest  po- 
tentates ;  see  how  he  mortifies  and  abases 
them.  '  O  Assyrian,  the  rod  of  mine  anger, 
the  staff  in  your  hand,  is  mine  indignation : 
howbeit  thy  heart  doth  not  think  so.  The 
Lord  hath  broken  the  stafl'of  the  wicked,  and 
the  sceptre  of  the  rulers.  Thy  pomp  is 
brought  down  to  the  grave,  the  worm  is  spread 
imder  thee,  and  the  worms  cover  thee.  How 
art  thou  fallen  from  lieaven,  O  Lucifer,  son  of 
the  morning !  How  art  thou  cast  down  to  the 

ground,  which  didst  weaken  the  nations.  Thou 
ast  said  in  thine  heart,  I  will  ascend  into  hea- 
ven, I  will  exalt  my  throne  above  the  stars  of 
God.  I  will  sit  also  upon  the  mount  of  the 
congregation,  in  the  sides  of  the  north.  I 
will  ascend  above  the  heights  of  the  clouds. 
I  will  be  like  the  Most  High.  Yet  thou  shalt 
De  brought  down  to  hell.  Because  thy  rage 
against  me,  and  thy  tumult,  is  come  up  into 
mine  ears,  therefore  will  I  ])ut  my  hook  in  thy 
nose,  and  my  bridle  in  thy  lips,  and  I  will  turn 
thee  back  by  the  way  tliou  earnest,'  Isa  x.  5.  7  ; 
chap.  xiv.  5.  11 — 15;  chap,  xxxvii.  29.  O! 
how  capable  were  our  sacred  authors  of  con- 
sidering the  grandees  of  the  earth  in  their 
true  point  of  Tight !  O  !  how  well  they  knew 
how  to  teach  us  what  a  king,  or  a  tyrant  is  in 
the  presence  of  Him,  by  whose  command 
'  kings  decree  justice,'  Prov.  viii.  15;  and  by 
whose  i)ermission,  and  even  direction,  tyrants 
decree  injustice  !  The  last  words  that  we 
quoted   from   Isaiah,  relate  to   Sennacherib. 


And  who  is  this  Sennacherib,  whose  general, 
Rabshakeh,  is  '  come  up  with  a  great  host'  to 
overwhelm  Jerusalem  .'  Where  is  this '  great 
king  of  Assyria.''  What  is  this  insolent  mor- 
tal, who  says,  '  Where  are  the  gods  of  Ha- 
math,  and  of  Arpad.'  Where  are  the  gods  of 
Sepharvaim .'  Hath  any  of  the  gods  of  the 
nations  delivered  at  all  his  land  out  of  mine 
hand .'  Shall  the  Lord  deliver  Jerusalem  out 
of  mine  hand.''  2  Kings  a  viii.  17.  34.  33. 
What  is  this  Sennacherib  ?  And  what  are  all 
those  who  tread  in  his  arrogant  steps  ?  They 
are  wild  beasts ;  but  wild  beasts  in  chains, 
conducted  whither  an  Almighty  arm  pleases 
to  lead  them.  The  power  of  this  arm  is  '  a 
hook  in  the  noses'  of  these  animals,  '  a  bridle 
in  their  lips  ;'  it  turns  them  by  the  hook  to  the 
right  or  to  the  left,  and  it  straightens  or  loos- 
ens the  bridle  as  it  pleases.  By  this  hook,  by 
this  bridle,  God  led  the  Assyrian  beast  with- 
out his  knowing  it,  and  when  his  heart  did  not 
think  so  :  he  led  him  from  Assyria  to  Jndea, 
from  Judea  to  Assyria,  as  his  wisdom  requi- 
red his  presence  in  either  place. 

The  prophets  meant  to  inspire  us  with  the 
same  notion  of  insensible  and  inanimate  beings, 
so  that  every  thing  which  excites  fear  might 
lead  us  '  to  fear  the  King  of  nations,'  who  has 
all  things  in  his  power,  and  moves  all  accord- 
ing to  his  own  pleasure.  We  will  not  multi- 
ply proofs.  The  prophet,  in  the  chapter  out 
of  which  we  have  taken  the  text,  mentions  an 
object  very  fit  to  inspire  us  with  the  fear  of 
'  the  King  of  nations,'  who  disposes  inanimate 
beings  in  such  a  manner :  he  describes  a  tem- 
pest at  sea.  The  gravity  of  this  discourse,  the 
majesty  of  this  place,  and  the  character  of  this 
auditory,  will  not  allow  those  descriptions 
which  a  sportive  fancy  invents.  We  allow 
students  to  exercise  their  imaginations  in  an 
academy,  and  we  pass  over  their  glaring  ima- 
ges in  favour  of  their  youth  and  inexperience : 
but  sometimes  descriptions  supply  the  place 
of  arguments,  and  a  solid  logic,  not  a  puerile 
rhetoric,  requires  them.  We  are  now  in  this 
case.  In  order  to  humble  man  in  the  pres- 
ence of  '  the  King  of  nations,'  we  tell  him 
that  this  King  can  make  all  creatures  fulfil 
his  will.  With  the  same  design,  our  prophet 
gives  a  sensible  example  of  the  power  of  God, 
by  transporting  man  to  the  ocean,  and  by 
showing  him  '  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and  his 
wonders  in  the  de'3p.  God  uttereth  his  voice,' 
says  he,  in  a  verse  that  follows  the  text, '  and 
there  is  a  noise  of  a  multitude  of  waters  in  the 
heavens.  He  causeth  the  vapours  to  ascend 
from  the  ends  of  the  earth.  He  maketh  light- 
nings with  rain,  and  bringeth  forth  the  wind 
out  of  his  treasures,'  Ps.  cvii.  24.  13.  Thou 
dull  stupid  man  !  who  art  not  stricken  with  the 
idea  of  a  God,  whose  will  is  self-efficient,  and 
who  alone  can  act  immediately  on  an  imma- 
terial soul,  come  and  behold  some  sensible 
proofs  of  that  infinite  power  of  which  meta- 
physical proofs  can  give  thee  no  idea !  And 
thou,  proud  insolent  man  I  go  aboard  the  best 
built  vessel,  put  out  to  sea,  set  the  most 
vigilant  watch,  surround  thyself  with  the 
most  formidable  instruments;  what  art  thou, 
when  God  uttrreth  his  voice  f  What  art  thou, 
when  the  noise  resounds.'  What  art  thou, 
when  torrents  of  ran  seem  to  threaten  a  sec- 
ond deluge,  and  to  malic  the  globe  which  thou 


Ser.  XII.) 


inhabitest  one  rolling  sea?  What  art  thou, 
when  lightnings  emit  their  terrible  flashes  ? 
What  art  thou,  when  the  winds  come  roaring 
out  of  their  treasures  ?  What  art  thou  then  ? 
Verily,  thou  art  no  less  than  thou  wast  in  thy 
palace.  Tliou  art  no  less  than  when  thou 
wast  sitting  at  a  delicious  table.  Thou  art 
no  less  than  thou  wast  wJien  every  thing  con- 
tributed to  thy  pleasure.  Thou  art  no  less 
than  when,  at  the  head  of  thine  army,  thou 
wast  the  terror  of  nations,  shaking  the  earth 
with  the  stunning  noise  of  thy  warlike  instru- 
ments: for,  at  thy  festal  board,  within  thy 
palace,  among  thy  pleasures,  at  the  Lead  of 
thine  armies,  thou  wast  nothing  before  '  the 
King  of  nations.'  As  an  immaterial  and  im- 
mortal creature,  thou  art  subject  to  his  imme- 
diate power :  but  to  humble  and  to  confound 
thee,  he  must  manifest  himself  to  thee  in  sensi- 
ble objects.  Behold  him  then  in  this  formi- 
dable situation  :  try  thy  power  against  bis  : 
silence  'the  noise  of  the  multitude  of  waters  :' 
fasten  the  vessel  that '  reeleth  like  a  drunken 
man  ;'  smooth  the  foaming  waves  that '  mount 
Ihee  up  to  heaven  ;'  fill  up  the  horrible  gulfs 
whither  thou  goest  '  down  to  the  bottoms  of 
the  mountains,'  Ps.  cvii.  27.  26;  Jonah-ii.  7; 
dissipate  the  lightning  that  flashes  in  thy  face  ; 
hush  the  bellowing  thunders  ;  confine  the 
winds  in  their  caverns  ;  assuage  the  anguish 
of  thy  soul,  and  prevent  its  melting  and  exhal- 
ing with  fear.  How  diminutive  is  man  !  my 
brethren.  How  many  ways  has  God  to  con- 
found his  pride!  'He  uttereth  liis  voice,  and 
there  is  a  noise  of  a  multitude  of  waters  in  the 
heavens.  He  causeth  the  vapours  to  ascend 
from  the  ends  of  the  earth.  He  maketh  light- 
nings with  rain,  and  bringeth  forth  the  wind 
out  of  his  treasures.  Who  would  not  fear 
thee,  O  King  of  nations .'' 

In  this  manner  the  prophets  represent  all 
beings  animate  aud  inanimate,  material  and 
immaterial,  as  concurring  in  the  Creator's 
will.  This  is  not  a  truth  which  requires  the 
submission  of  faith,  but  every  branch  of  it 
proceeds  from  reason,  and  is  supported  by  ex- 
perience. When  God  wills  the  destruction, 
or  the  deliverance  of  a  people,  all  creation  ex- 
ecutes his  design.  When  he  is  angry,  every 
thing  becomes  an  instrument  of  vengeance. 
A  cherub,  brandishing  a  flaming  sword,  pre- 
vents the  return  of  guilty  man  to  paradise. 
The  air  infected,  the  earth  covered  with  nox- 
ious plants,  the  brute  creation  enraged,  wage 
war  with  the  rebel.  Grasshoppers  become 
*  the  Lord's  great  army,'  Joel.  ii.  11.  flies 
swarm,  waters  change  into  blogd,  light  turns 
to  darkness,  and  all  besiege  the  palace  and 
the  person  of  Pharaoh.  The  heavens  them- 
selves,' the  stars  in  their  courses,  fight  against 
Sisera,'  Judg.  v.  20.  The  earth  yawns,  and 
swallows  up  Dathan  and  Abiram  in  its  fright- 
ful caverns.  Fire  consumes  Nadab  and  Abihu, 
Korah  and  his  company.  A  fish  buries  alive 
the  prevaricating  Jonah  in  his  wide  mouth. 
But  on  the  contrary,  when  God  declares  him- 
self for  a  people,  there  is  nothing  in  the  uni- 
verse which  God  cannot^make  a  mean  of  hap- 
piness. The  heavens  unfurl  their  beauties  ; 
the  sun  expands  his  light ;  the  earth  adorns 
herself  with  flowers,  and  loads  herself  with 
fruits,  to  entertain  the  favourite  of  the  King 
of  nations  j'  while  the  animals  become  teacii- 


OBJECT  OF  FEAR. 


135 


able,  and  offer  to  bow  to  his  service.  'All  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God. 
'All  things  are  yours,  whether  Paul,  or  Cephas, 
or  the  world.  Behold,  I  will  do  a  new  tiling. 
The  beasts  of  the  field  shall  honour  me.  The 
beasts  of  the  field  shall  honour  me,  the  dragons 
and  the  owls  :  because  I  give  waters  in  the 
wilderness,  and  rivers  in  the  desert,  to  give 
drink  to  my  people,  my  chosen.  Ye  shall  go 
out  with  joy,  and  be  led  forth  with  peace  :  the 
mountains  and  the  hills  shall  break  forth  be- 
fore you  into  singing,  and  all  the  trees  of  the 
field  shall  clap  their  hands.  Drop  down,  ye 
heavens  from  above,  let  the  earth  open  and 
bring  forth  salvation  !'  Rom.  viii.  28  ;  1  Cor. 
iii.  22  ;  Isa.  xliii.  19.  23 ;  Iv.  12  ;  xlv.  8. 

Thus,  my  brethren,  has  God  proportioned 
himself  to  our  meanness  and  dulness,  in  order 
to  inspire  us  with  fear.  Is  it  necessary,  to 
make  us  fear  God,  that  we  should  see  bodies, 
in  various  parts  and  prodigious  masses  of 
matter,  march  at  his  word  to  fulfil  his  will  ? 
Well,  behold  bodies,  in  various  parts  and  in 
vast  masses  !  Behold  !  universal  nature  mov- 
ing at  his  word,  and  fulfilling  his  will.  Let 
us  fear  God  in  this  view  of  him,  if  our  minds 
enveloped  in  matter  cannot  conceive  an  idea 
of  a  Being,  whose  will  is  self-efficient,  and 
who  alone  can  act  on  immaterial  souls.  But, 
my  brethren,  a  mind  accustomed  to  medita- 
tion has  no  occasion  for  this  last  notion :  the 
first  absorbs  all.  A  God,  every  act  of  whose 
will  is  effectual,  is  alone  worthy  of  the  hom- 
age of  fear.  A  just  notion  of  his  power  ren- 
ders all  ideas  otmeans  useless.  The  power 
of  God  has  no  need  of  means.  Were  I  exist- 
ing alone  with  God,  God  could  make  me  su- 
premely happy,  or  supremely  miserable :  one 
act  of  his  will  is  sufficient  to  do  either.  We 
do  not  mean  to  enlarge  the  idea,  when, 
speaking  of  an  all-sufficient  Creator,  who  is 
superior  to  the  want  of  means,  we  treat  of  a 
concurrence  of  creatures :  we  only  mean  to 
level  the  subject  to  the  capacities  of  some  of 
our  hearers. 

Let  us  sum  up  what  has  been  said.  To 
consider  a  creature  as  the  cause  of  human 
felicity  is  to  pay  him  tlie  homage  of  adora- 
tion, and  to  commit  idolatry.  The  avari- 
cious man  is  an  idolater  ;  the  ambitious  man 
is  an  idolater  ;  the  voluptuous  man  is  an  idol- 
ater. And  to  render  to  a  creature  the  hom- 
age of  fear  is  also  idolatry  ;  for  supreme  fear 
is  as  much  due  to  God  alone  as  supreme 
hope.  He  who  fears  war,  and  does  not  fear 
the  God  who  sends  war,  is  an  idolater.  He 
who  fears  the  plague,  and  who  does  not  fear 
the  God  who  sends  the  plague,  is  an  idolater. 

It  is  idolatry,  in  public  or  in  private  ad- 
versities, to  have  recourse  to  second  causes, 
to  little  subordinate  deities,  so  as  to  neglect 
to  appease  the  wrath  of  the  Supreme  God. 
To  consult  the  wise,  to  assemble  a  council, 
to  man  fleets,  to  raise  armies,  to  build  forts, 
to  elevate  ramparts,  and  not  to  consider  the 
succour  of  heaven,  which  alone  is  capable  of 
giving  success  to  all  such  means,  is  to  be 
guilty  of  idolatry.  Isaiah  reproves  the  Jews 
in  tlie  most  severe  manner  for  this  kind  of 
idolatry.  '  In  that  day,'  says  the  prophet, 
speaking  of  the  precautions  which  they  had 
taken  to  prevent  the  designs  of  their  ene- 
mies ;  '  In  that  day  thou  didst  look  to  the  ar- 


136 


THE  MANNER  OF 


[Ser.  XIII. 


mour  of  the  house  of  the  forest.  Ye  have 
seen  also  the  breaches  of  the  city  of  David  : 
and  ye  gathered  together  the  waters  of  the 
lower  pool.  And  ye  have  nimibered  the 
houses  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  houses  have 
ye  broken  down  to  fortify  the  wall.  Ye  have 
made  also  a  ditch  between  the  two  walls,  for 
the  water  of  the  old  pool :  but  ye  have  not 
looked  unto  the  Maker  of  this  Jerusalem, 
neither  had  respect  for  him  that  fashioned  it 
long  a^o.  And  in  that  day  did  the  Lord 
God  of  hosts  call  to  weeping,  and  to  mourn- 
ing, and  to  baldness,  and  to  girding  with 
sackcloth :  and  behold,  joy  and  gladness, 
slaying  oxen  and  killing  sheep,  eating  flesh 
and  drinking  wine  ;  let  us  eat  and  drink,  for 
to-morrow  we  shall  die.  And  it  was  revealed 
in  mine  ears  by  the  Lord  of  hosts,  Surely 
this  iniquity  shall  not  be  purged  from  you, 
till  ye  die,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,'  Isa.  xxii. 
8 — 14.  Do  we  deserve  less  cutting  re- 
proaches ?  In  that  day,  in  the  day  of  our 
public  and  private  calamities,  we  have  con- 
sulted wise  men,  we  have  assembled  coun- 
cils, we  have  fitted  out  fleets,  and  raised  ar- 
mies, we  have  pretended  by  them  to  secure 
these  provinces  from  impending  dangers, 
and  we  have  '  not  had  respect  unto  him  that 
fashioned  them  long  ago.'  But  what  are 
wise  men .-'  What  are  councils  ?  What  are 
navies .-"  What  are  armies  and  fortifications, 
but  subordinate  beings,  which  God  directs 
as  he  pleases  .''  Ah  !  ye  penitential  tears,  ye 
days  of  sackcloth  aud  ashes,  ye  solemn  hu- 
miliations, ye  sighs  that  ascend  to  God,  ye 
fervent  prayers,  ye  saints  who  impart  your 
souls  in  fervour ;  and,  above  all,  ye  sin- 
cere conversions  to  '  the  King  of  nations,' 
love  to  his  laws,  obedience  to  his  commands, 
submission  to  his  will,  tenderness  to  his  peo- 
ple, zeal  for  his  altars,  devotedness  to  his 
worship  ;  if  ye  do  not  prevail  with  the  '  King 
of  nations'  to  favour  our  designs,  what  must 
our  destiny  be  ?  And  ye  tragical  designs, 
black  attempts,  shameful  plots,  impure  asso- 


ciations, criminal  intrigues,  execrable  oaths, 
atrocious  calumnies,  cruel  falsehoods,  with 
what  oceans  of  misery  will  ye  overflow  ua, 
if  ye  arm  'the  King  of  nations'  against  us? 

To  conclude.  Tliere  is  much  imbecility, 
if  no  idolatry  in  us,  if,  while  we  fear  God, 
we  stand  in  too  much  awe  of  second  causes, 
which  sometimes  appear  terrible  to  us.  No, 
no  !  revolution  of  ages,  subversion  of  states, 
domestic  seditions,  foreign  invasions,  conta- 
gious sicknesses,  sudden  and  untimely  deaths, 
ye  are  only  the  servants  of  that  God,  whose 
favourite  creature  I  am.  If,  by  his  command, 
ye  execute  some  terrible  order  on  n)e,  I  will 
receive  it  as  a  comfortable  order,  because  it 
is  executed  only  for  my  good.  Trouble  my 
peace  :  perhaps  it  may  be  fatal  to  me.  Turn 
the  tide  of  my  prosperity,  which  seems  to 
constitute  my  glory  :  perhaps  it  may  be  dan- 
gerous to  me.  Snap  the  silken  bonds  that 
have  so  much  influence  on  the  happiness  of 
my  life  ;  perhaps  they  may  become  my  idols. 
Pluck  out  my  eyes,  cut  ofi"  my  hands  ;  per- 
haps they  may  cause  me  to  '  offend,'  Matt, 
xviii.  8,  and  may  plunge  me  into  the  bottom- 
less abyss.  Bind  me  to  a  cross  :  provided  it 
be  my  Saviour's  cross.  Cut  the  thread  of 
my  life  :  provided  the  gates  of  immortal  hap- 
piness be  opened  unto  me. 

Christians,  let  us  satiate  our  souls  with 
these  meditations.  Let  us  give  up  our  hearts 
to  these  emotions.  Let  us  fear  God,  and  let 
us  fear  nothing  else.  '  Fear  not  thou  worm 
Jacob.  Fear  thou  not,  for  I  am  with  thee  ; 
Be  not  dismayed,  for  I  am  thy  God  ;  I  will 
strengthen  thee,  yea,  I  will  help  thee,  yea, 
I  will  uphold  thee  with  the  right  hand  oi'my 
righteousness.  Fear  not  thou  worm  Jacob, 
and  ye  men  of  Israel;  I  will  help  thee,  saith 
the  Lord,  and  thy  Redeemer,  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel.  Who  will  not  fear  thee,  O  King 
of  nations.'  for  to  thee  doth  it  appertain," 
Isa.  xli.  10.  14.  May  God  inspire  us  with 
these  sentiments!  To  him  be  honour  and 
glory  for  ever  !  Amen. 


SERMON   Xlir. 


THE  MANNER  OF  PRAISING  GOD. 

Trcnehptl  after   the  adniini«tration  of  the   Lord's  Supper. 


Psalm  xxxiii.   1. 


Praise  is  comely 

a.  HERE  is  something  very  majestic,  my 
brethren,  in  the  end  for  which  we  are  now 
assembled  in  the  presence  of  God.  His  Pro- 
vidence has  infinitely  diversified  the  condi- 
tions of  those  who  compose  this  assembly. 
Some  are  placed  in  the  most  eminent,  others 
in  the  most  obscure,  posts  of  society.  Some 
live  in  splendour  and  opulence,  others  in 
meanness  and  indigence.  One  is  employed 
in  the  turbulence  of  the  army,  another  in 
the  silence   of  the  study.     Notwithstanding 


for  the  upright, 

this  infinite  variety  of  employments,  ranks, 
and  ages,  we  all  assemble  to-day  in  one  place; 
one  object  occupies  us  ;  one  sentiment  ani- 
mates us ;  one  voice  makes  the  church  re- 
sound, '  praise  ye  the  Lord,  for  his  mercy 
endureth  for  ever,'  Ps.  cxxxvi.  1.  If  there 
be  an  object  that  can  give  a  mortal  any  ideas 
of  the  first  impressions  which  are  made  on  a 
soul,  at  its  first  entering  the  glorious  palace 
of  the  blessed  God  in  heaven,  it  is  this.  The 
first  object*  that  strike  such  a  soul,  ara  mul- 


Sen.  XIII.j 


PRAISING  GOD. 


157 


titudes  of  all  nations,  tongues,  and  people, 
concentrated  in  a  meditation  on  the  benefi- 
cence of  God,  prostrating  themselves  before 
his  throne,  casting  their  crowns  at  his  feet, 
and  crying,  out  of  the  abundance  of  their 
hearts,  which  contemplate  the  perfections  of 
a  Being  worthy  of  their  profoundest  praise, 
*  Amen,  blessing,  and  glory,  and  wisdom,  and 
thanksgiving, and  honour, and  power  and  might 
be  unto  our  God,  for  ever  and  ever  Amen.  We 
give  thee  thanks,  O  Lord  God  Almighty, 
which  art,  and  wast,  and  art  to  come  ;  be- 
cause thou  hast  taken  to  thee  thy  great  pow- 
■er,  and  hast  reigned.  Great  and  marvellous 
are  thy  works.  Lord  God  Almighty  ;  just  and 
true  are  thy  ways,  thou  King  of  saints ! 
Unto  him  that  loved  us,  and  washed  us 
from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath 
made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God  and 
his  Father  ;  to  him  be  glory  and  dominion 
for  ever  and  ever,  Amen,'  Rev  vii.  12 ;  xi. 
17 ;  XV.  3 ;  i.  5,  6.  This  is  the  employ- 
ment of  the  blessed  in  heaven :  this  is  what 
we  are  doing  to-day  on  earth. 

But  what  a  contradiction,  what  a  contrast 
appears,  when  lifting  up  the  exterior  habit  of 
piety  that  covers  some  of  us,  we  examine 
the  inward  dispositions  of  the  heart.  The 
psalms,  wliich  are  uttered  with  the  voice,  are 
contradicted  by  the  tempers  of  the  heart. 
The  mouths  that  were  just  now  opened  to 
bless  the  Creator,  will  presently  be  opened 
again  to  blaspheme  and  to  curse  him.  The 
praises  which  seemed  so  proper  to  please  him 
an  whose  honour  they  were  offered,  will  incur 
this  reproof,  '  Thou  wicked  man  !  What  hast 
thou  to  do  to  take  my  covenant  in  thy 
mouth  V  Ps.  i.  16. 

My  brethren,  if  we  would  join  our  voices 
with  those  of  angels,  we  must  have  the  sen- 
timents of  angels.  We  must  (at  least,  as 
far  as  the  duty  is  imitable  by  such  frail  crea- 
tures,) we  must,  in  order  to  worship  God  as 
those  happy  spirits  praise  him,  love  him  as 
they  do,  serve  him  as  they  do,  devote  our- 
selves to  him  as  they  devote  themselves  to 
him  ;  and  this  is  the  manner  of  praising  God, 
to  which  I  exhort,  and  in  which  I  would  en- 
deavour to  instruct  you  to-day,  ao-reeabl}'  to 
the  prophet's  exalted  notions  of  it  in  the 
words  of  the  text.  What  day  can  be  more 
proper  to  inspire  such  a  noble  design .''  What 
day  can  be  more  proper  to  engage  you  to 
mix  your  worship  with  that  of  glorified  in- 
telligences, than  this,  on  which  v.^e  are  to 
come  '  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem,  to  an  innumerable  com- 
pany of  angels,  and  to  the  church  of  the 
first-born  which  are  written  in  heaven  .''  Heb. 
xii.  22,  23. 

But,  who  are  we,  to  be  admitted  into  a  so- 
ciety so  holy  .'  Great  God!  Thou  dost  ap- 
pear to  us  to-day,  as  thou  didst  formerly  to 
thy  prophet,  '  sitting  upon  a  throne,  high  and 
lifted  up,  and  thy  train  filling  the  temole,' 
Isa.  vi.  1.  Around  thee  stand  the  seraphim, 
covering  tliemselves  with  their  wings  in  thy 
majestic  presence,  and  crying  one  to  another, 
'  Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  the  Lord  of  hosts,  the 
whole  earth  is  full  of  thy  glory,'  ver.  3.  We 
are  stricken  as  thy  prophet  was,  with  such  a 
tremendous  vision,  and  each  of  us  cries,  with 
him,  'Wo  ia  me  I    I   am  undone!     I  am  a 


man  of  unclean  lipa !  and  yet,  mine  eyes  hava 
seen  the  King,  the  Lord  of  hosts.'  ver.  5. 
O  great  God !  command  one  of  thy  sera- 
phim to  fly  to  us  as  he  flew  to  him  ;  bid  him 
touch  our  mouths  as  he  touched  his,  with  '  a 
live  coal  from  off  thine  altar,'  ver.  6  ;  and  in 
this  day  of  grace  and  mercy,  let  him  say  to 
each  of  us,  '  Lo  this  hath  touched  thy  lips, 
and  thine  iniquity  is  taken  away,  and  thy 
sin  purged !    Auien,'  ver.  7. 

'  Praise  is  comely  for  the  upright'  The 
praising  of  God  is  a  duty  of  which  we  may 
form  two  different  notions:  a  general,  and 
a  particular  notion.  By  a  general  notion  of 
praise,  I  mean,  the  exercise  of  a  man,  who, 
being  capable  of  examining  sublime  objects, 
and  of  comprehending  grand  subjects,  fixes 
his  attention  on  the  attributes  of  God,  feels 
the  force  of  those  proofs  which  establish  the 
truth  of  them,  is  delighted  with  them  to  a 
certain  degree,  and  is  happy  in  publishing 
their  praise.  1  mea.n,  by  a.  particular  notion 
of  praising  God,  the  exercise  of  a  man,  who, 
having  received  some  signal  favour  of  God, 
loves  to  express  his  gratitude  for  it. 

Each  of  these  exercises  of  praise  suppo- 
ses reflections,  and  sentiments.  To  praise 
God  in  the  first  sense,  to  reflect  on  his  attri- 
butes, to  converse,  and  to  write  about  them 
without  having  the  heart  affected,  and  with- 
out loving  a  Being,  who  is  described  as 
supremely  amiable,  is  a  lifeless  praise,  more 
fit  for  a  worldly  philosopher  than  for  a  ration- 
al Christian.  To  praise  God  in  the  second 
sense,  to  be  affected  with  the  favours  of  God, 
without  having  any  distinct  notions  of  God, 
without  knowing  whether  the  descriptions 
of  the  perfections  that  are  attributed  to  him 
be  flights  of  fancy  or  real  truths,  is  an  exer- 
cise more  fit  for  a  bigot,  who  believes  with- 
out knowing  why,  than  for  a  spiritual  man, 
who  judges  all  things,  1  Cor.  ii.  15.  If  we 
distinguish  the  part^that  these  two  faculties, 
reflection  and  sentiment,  take  in  these  two 
exercises  of  praise,  we  may  observe,  that  the 
first,  I  mean  the  praise  of  God  taken  in  a  ge- 
neral sense,  is  the  fruit  of  refection,  and  the 
second  of  sentiment.  The  first  is,  if  I  may 
be  allowed  to  speak  so,  the  praise  of  the 
mind :  the  second  is  the  praise  of  the  heart. 

It  is  difficult  to  determine  which  of  these 
two  notions  prevails  in  the  text,  whether 
the  psalmist  uses  the  word  -praise  in  the  first, 
or  in  the  second  sense.  If  we  judge  by  the' 
whole  subject  of  the  psalm,  both  are^included. 
The  praise  of  the  heart  is  easily  discovered 
Whether  the  author  of  the  psalm  were  He- 
zekiah,  as  many  of  the  fathers  thought,  who 
say,  that  this  prince  composed  it  after  the 
miraculous  defeat  of  Sennacherib  ;  or  whe- 
ther, as  it  is  most  likely,  David  were  the 
composer  of  it,  after  one  of  those  preterna- 
tural deliverances,  with  which  his  life  was  so 
often  signalized  :  what  I  call  the  praise  of  the 
heart,  that  is,  a  lively  sense  of  some  inesti- 
mable blessing,  is  clearly  to  be  seen.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  still  clearer,  that  the  sa- 
cred author  does  not  celebrate  only  one  par- 
ticular object  in  the  psalm.  He  gives  a 
greater  scope  to  his  meditation,  and  com- 
prises in  it  all  the  works,  and  all  the  per- 
fections of  God. 

Although  the   solemnity  of  thii  day  calla 


138 


THE  MANNER  OF 


Ser.  XIII. 


us  less  to  the  praise  of  the  mind  than  to 
that  of  the  heart ;  although  we  intend  to 
make  the  latter  the  principal  subject  of  this 
discourse  ;  yet  it  is  necessary  to  attend  a  lit- 
tle to  the  former. 

I.  '  The  praise  of  the  Lord,'  taking  the 
word  praise  in  the  vague  sense  that  we  have 
affixed  to  the  term,  '  is  comely  for  the  up- 
right:' and  it  is  comely  for  none  but  for 
them. 

'  Praise  is  comely  for  the  upright.'  No- 
thing is  more  worthy  of  the  attention  of  an 
intelligent  being,  particularly,  nothing  is 
more  worthy  of  the  meditation  of  a  superior 
genius,  than  the  wonderful  perfections  of  the 
Creator.  A  man  of  superior  genius  is  re- 
quired, indeed,  to  use  his  talents  to  cultivate 
the  sciences  and  the  liberal  arts :  but,  after 
all,  the  mind  of  man,  especially  of  that  man 
to  whom  God  has  given  superior  talents, 
which  assimilate  him  to  celestial  intelligen- 
ces, was  not  created  to  unravel  a  point  in 
chronology,  to  learn  the  different  sounds  by 
which  different  nations  signify  their  ideas,  to 
measure  a  line,  or  to  lose  itself  in  an  alge- 
braic calculation ;  the  mind  of  such  a  man 
was  not  created  to  study  the  stars,  to  count 
their  number,  to  measure  their  magnitude,  to 
discover  more  than  have  yet  been  observed. 
Nobler  objects  ought  to  occupy  him.  It  be- 
comes such  a  man  to  contemplate  God,  to 
guide  the  rest  of  mankind,  to  lead  them  to 
God,  who  '  dwelleth  in  the  light  which  no 
man  can  approach  unto,'  I  Tim.  vi.  16,  and 
to  teach  us  to  attenuate  the  clouds  that  hide 
him  from  our  feeble  eyes.  It  becomes  such 
a  man  to  use  that  superiority  which  his 
knowledge  gives  him  over  us,  to  elevate  our 
hearts  above  the  low  region  of  terrestrial 
things,  where  they  grovel  with  the  brute 
beasts,  and  to  help  us  to  place  them  on  the 
bright  abode  of  the  iramortal  God.  The 
praise  of  the  Lord  is  comely  for  upright  men. 

But  praise  is  comely  only  for  upright  men. 
I  believe  it  is  needless  now  to  explain  the 
word  uprightness.  The  term  is  taken  in  the 
text  in  the  noblest  sense  :  this  is  a  sufficient 
explication,  and  this  is  sufficient  also  to  con- 
vince us,  that  the  praising  of  God  is  comely 
for  none  but  upright  men.  I  cannot  see, 
without  indignation,  a  philosopher  trifle  with 
the  important  questions  that  relate  to  the  at- 
tributes of  God,  and  make  them  simple  exer- 
cises of  genius,  in  which  the  heart  has  no 
concern,  examining  whether  there  be  a  God, 
with  the  same  indifference  with  which  he  in- 
quires whether  there  be  a  vacuum  in  nature, 
or  whether  matter  be  infinitely  divisible.  On 
determining  the  questions  which  relate  to 
the  divine  attributes  depend  our  hopes  and 
fears,  the  plans  that  we  must  form,  and  the 
course  of  life  which  we  ought  to  pursue :  and 
with  these  views  we  should  examine  the  per- 
fections of  God  :  these  are  consequences  that 
should  follow  our  inquiries.  With  such  dis- 
positions the  psalmist  celebrated  the  praises 
of  God,  in  the  psalm  out  of  which  we  have 
taken  the  text.  How  comely  are  the  praises 
of  God  in  the  mouth  of  such  a  man  ! 

Let  us  follow  the  holy  man  a  moment  in 
his  meditation.  His  psalm  is  not  composed 
in  scholastic  form,  in  which  the  author  con- 
fines himself  to  fixed  rules,  and,  scrupulously 


following  a  philosophical  method,  lays  down 
principles,  and  infers  consequences.  How- 
ever, he  establishes  principles,  the  most  pro- 
per to  give  us  sublime  ideas  of  the  Creator ; 
and  he  speaks  with  more  precision  of  the 
works  and  attributes  of  God  than  the  great- 
est philosophers  have  spoken  of  them. 

How  absurdly  have  philosophers  treated  of 
the  origin  of  the  world  !  How  few  of  them 
have  reasoned  conclusively  on  this  important 
subject !  Our  prophet  solves  the  important 
question  by  one  single  principle  ;  and,  what 
is  more  remarkable,  this  principle,  which  is 
nobly  expressed,  carries  the  clearest  evi- 
dence with  it.  The  principle  is  this :  '  By 
the  word  of  the  Lord,  were  the  heavens  made ; 
and  all  the  host  of  them  by  the  breath  of  his 
mouth,'  ver.  6.  This  is  the  most  rational  ac- 
count that  was  ever  given,  of  the  creation  of 
the  world.  The  world  is  the  work  of  a  self- 
efficient  will,  and  it  is  this  principle  alone  that 
can  account  for  its  creation.  The  most  sim- 
ple appearances  in  nature  are  sufficient  to 
lead  us  to  this  principle.  Either  my  will  is 
self-efficient,  or  there  is  some  other  being 
whose  will  is  self-efficient.  What  I  say  of 
myself,  I  say  of  my  parents,  and  what  I  affirm 
of  my  parents,  I  affirm  of  my  more  remote 
ancestors,  and  of  all  the  finite  creatures  from 
whom  they  derived  their  existence.  Most 
certainly,  either  finite  beings  have  self-effi- 
cient wills,  which  it  is  impossible  to  suppose, 
for  a  finite  creature  with  a  self-efficient  will 
is  a  contradiction :  either,  I  say,  a  finite 
creature  has  a  self-efficient  will,  or  there  is  a 
first  cause  who  has  a  self-efficient  will ;  and 
that  there  is  such  a  Being  is  the  principle  of  the 
psalmist ;  '  By  the  word  of  the  Lord  were 
the  heavens  made :  and  all  the  host  of  them 
by  the  breath  of  his  mouth.' 

If  philosophers  have  reasoned  inconclusively 
on  the  origin  of  the  world,  they  have  spoken 
of  its  government  with  equal  uncertainty. 
The  psalmist  determines  this  question  with 
great  facility,  by  a  single  principle,  which 
results  from  the  former,  and  which,  like  the 
former,  carries  its  evidence  with  it.  '  The 
Lord  looketh  from  heaven  :  he  considereth 
all  the  works  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth,'  Ps.  xxxiii.  13,  14.  This  is  the  doc- 
trine of  Providence.  And  on  what  is  the 
doctrine  of  Providence  foimded  ?  On  this 
principle  :  God '  fashioneth  their  hearts  alike,' 
ver.  15.  Attend  a  moment  to  the  evidence 
of  this  reasoning,  my  brethren.  The  doc- 
trine of  Providence,  expressed  in  these  words, 
'  God  considereth  the  works  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  earth,'  is  a  necessary  consequence  of 
this  principle,  '  God  fashioneth  their  hearts 
alike,'  and  this  principle  is  a  necessary  con- 
sequence of  that  which  the  psalmist  had  be- 
fore laid  down  to  account  for  the  origin  of 
the  world  !  Yes  !  from  the  doctrine  of  God 
the  Creator  of  men,  follows  that  of  God  the 
inspector,  the  director,  rewarder,  and  the 
punisher  of  their  actions.  One  of  the  most 
specious  objections  that  has  ever  been  oppos- 
ed to  the  doctrine  of  Providence,  is  a  contrast 
between  the  grandeur  of  God  and  the  mean- 
ness of  men.  How  can  such  an  insignificant 
creature  as  man  be  an  object  of  the  care  and 
attention  of  such  a  magnificent  being  as  God  .' 
No  objection  can  be  more  specious,  or,  in  ap- 


Ser.  XIII.] 


PRAISING  GOD. 


139 


pearance,  more  invincible.  The  distance  be- 
tween the  meanest  insect  and  the  mightiest 
monarch,  who  treads  and  crushes  reptiles  to 
death  without  the  least  regard  to  them,  is  a 
very  imperfect  image  of  the  distance  between 
God  and  man.  That  which  proves  that  it 
would  be  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  monarch 
to  observe  the  motions  of  ants,  or  worms,  to 
interest  himself  in  their  actions,  to  punish,  or 
to  reward  them,  seems  to  demonstrate,  that 
God  would  degrade  himself  were  he  to  ob- 
serve, to  direct,  to  punish,  to  reward  mankind, 
who  are  infinitely  inferior  ^to  him.  But  one 
fact  is  sufficient  to  answer*  this  specious  ob- 
jection :  that  is,  that  God  has  created  man- 
Kind.  Does  God  degrade  himself  more  by 
governing  than  by  creating  mankind  ,''  Who 
can  persuade  himself,  that  a  wise  Being  has 
given  to  intelligent  creatures  faculties  capable 
of  obtaining  knowledge  and  virtue,  without 
willing  that  they  should  endeavour  to  acquire 
knowledge  and  virtue  .'  Or  who  can  imagine, 
that  a  wise  Being,  who  wills  that  his  intelli- 
gent creatures  should  acquire  knowledge  and 
virtue,  will  not  punish  them  if  they  ncziect 
those  acquisitions  ;  andwiU  not  show  by  the 
distribution  of  his  benefits  that  he  approves 
their  endeavours  to  obtain  them  ? 

Unenlightened  philosophers  have  treated  of 
the  attributes  of  God  witli  as  much  abstruse- 
ness  as  they  have  written  of  his  works.  The 
moral  attributes  of  God,  as  they  are  called  in 
the  schools,  vyere  mysteries  which  they  could 
not  unfold.  These  may  be  reduced  to  two 
classes  :  attributes  of  goodness,  and  attributes 
of  justice.  Philosophers,  who  have  admitted 
these,  have  usually  taken  that  for  granted 
which  they  ought  to  have  proved.  They  col- 
lected together  in  their  minds  all  perfections ; 
they  reduced  them  all  to  one  object,which  they 
denominated  a perfectheing  :  and  supposing, 
without  proving,  that  a  perfect  Being  ex- 
isted, they  attributed  to  him,  without  proof, 
every  thing  that  they  considered  as  a  perfec- 
tion. The  psalmist  shows  by  a  surer  way 
that  there  is  a  God  supremely  just,  and 
supremely  good.  It  is  necessary  in  order  to 
convince  a  rational  being  of  the  justice  and 
goodness  of  God,  to  follow  such  a  method  as 
that  which  we  follow  to  prove  his  existence. 
When  we  would  prove  the  existence  of  God, 
we  say,  there  are  creatures,  therefore  there 
is  a  Creator.  In  like  manner,  when  we 
would  prove  that  a  creature  is  just,  and  a 
good  being,  we  say,  there  are  qualities  of 
goodness  and  justice  in  creatures,  therefore 
he,  from  whom  these  creatures  derive  their 
existence,  is  a  Being  just  and  good.  Now, 
this  is  the  reasoning  of  the  psalmist  in  this 
psalm :  '  The  Lord  loveth  righteousness  and 
judgment;  the  earth  is  full  of  the  goodness 
of  the  Lord,'  ver.  5,  that  is  to  say,  it  is  im- 
possible to  consider  the  works  of  the  Creator, 
without  receiving  evidence  of  his  goodness. 
And  the  works  of  nature,  which  demonstrate 
the  goodness  of  God,  prove  his  justice  also: 
for  God  has  created  us  with  such  dispositions, 
that  we  cannot  enjoy  the  gifts  of  his  goodness 
without  obeying  the  laws  of  his  righteous- 
ness. The  happiness  of  an  individual,  who 
procures  a  pleasure  by  disobeying  the  laws  of 
equity,  is  a  violent  happiness,  which  cannot 
be  of  long  duration  :    and   the  prosperity  of 


public  bodies,  when  it  is  founded  in  iniquity, 
is  an  edifice,  which  with  its  bases  will  be  pre- 
sently sunk  and  gone. 

But  what  we  would  particularly  remark  is, 
that  the  excellent  principles  of  the  psalmist, 
concerning  God,  are  not  mere  speculations: 
but  truths  from  which  he  derives  practical  in- 
ferences ;  and  he  aims  to  extend  their  influ- 
ence beyond  private  persons,  even  to  legisla- 
tors and  conquerors.  One  would  think,  con- 
sidering the  conduct  of  mankind,  that  the 
consequences,  which  are  drawn  from  the  doc- 
trines of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  be- 
long to  none  but  to  the  dregs  of  the  people  ; 
that  lawgivers  and  conquerors  have  a  plan 
of  morality  peculiar  to  themselves,  and  are 
above  the  rules  to  which  other  men  must 
submit.  Our  prophet  had  other  notions. 
What  are  his  maxims  of  policy .'  They  are 
all  included  in  these  words  :  '  Blessed  is  the 
nation  whose  God  is  the  Lord ;  and  the  peo- 
ple whom  he  hath  chosen  for  his  own  inhe- 
ritance,' ver.  12.  What  are  his  mihtary 
maxims .'  they  are  all  included  in  these 
words :  '  There  is  no  king  saved  by  the  mul- 
titude of  a  host ;  a  miglity  man  is  not  de- 
livered by  much  strength  :  a  horse  is  a  vain 
thing  for  safety  ;  neither  shall  he  deliver  any 
by  his  great  strength,'  ver.  16.  17.  Who 
proposes  these  maxims .''  A  hermit,  who 
never  appeared  on  the  theatre  of  the  world  ^ 
or  a  man  destitute  of  the  talents  necessary  to 
shine  there  .''  No :  one  of  the  wisest  of  kings  ; 
one  of  the  most  bold  and  able  generals ;  a 
man,  whom  God  had  self-elected  to  govern 
his  chosen  people,  and  to  command  those 
armies  which  fought  the  most  obstinate  bat- 
tles, and  gained  the  most  complete  victories. 
Were  I  to  proceed  in  explaining  the  system 
of  the  psalmist,  I  might  prove,  that  as  he 
had  a  right  to  infer  the  doctrine  of  Providence 
from  the  works  of  nature,  and  that  of  the 
moral  attributes  of  God  from  the  works  of 
creation  ;  so  from  the  doctrines  of  the  moral 
attributes  of  God,  of  providence,  and  of  the 
works  of  creation,  he  had  a  right  to  conclude, 
that  no  conquerors  or  lawgivers  could  be 
truly  happy  but  those  who  acted  agreeably  to 
the  laws  of  the  just  and  good  Supreme.  But 
I  shall  not  enlarge  on  this  article. 

Permit  me  only  to  place  in  one  point  of 
view  the  different  phrases  by  which  the 
psalmist  describes  the  Deity  in  this  psalm. 
'  The  earth  is  full  of  the  goodness  of  the 
Ijord.  By  the  word  of  the  Lord  were  the 
heavens  made  :  and  all  the  host  of  them  by 
the  breath  of  his  mouth.  He  gathereth  the 
waters  of  the  sea  together,  as  a  heap  :  he 
layeth  up  the  depth  in  storehouses.  The 
Lord  looketh  from  heaven :  he  beholdeth  all 
the  sons  of  men.  From  the  place  of  his  ha- 
bitation he  looketii  upon  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  earth.  He  fashioneth  their  hearts 
alike  ;  he  considereth  all  their  works,'  Ps. 
xxxiii.  .5 — 7.  13 — 15.  From  these  speculative 
ideas  of  God,  he  derives  the  following  rules 
of  practice, '  Let  all  tlie  earth  fear  the  Lord  : 
let  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  world  stand  in 
awe  of  him.  Our  soul  waiteth  for  the  Lord  : 
he  is  our  help  and  our  shield.  For  our  heart 
shall  rejoice  in  him  :  because  we  have  trusted 
in  his  holy  name.  Let  thy  merc}',  O  I^ord, 
be  upon  us  according   as  we   hope  in  tliee,' 


140 


THE  MANNER  OF 


[Ser.  XIII. 


Pe.  xxxiii.  8  20—22.  How  delightful  it  is, 
my  brethren,  to  speak  of  God,  when  one  has 
talents  to  speak  of  him  in  such  a  noble  man- 
ner ;  and  when  one  intends  to  ])romote  the 
fear  and  the  love  of  him,  witli  a  universal 
obedience  to  him,  from  all  that  is  said  !  How 
well  it  becomes  such  a  man  to  praise  God  ! 
The  praise  of  the  Lord  is  comely  in  the 
mouths  of  upright  men. 

II.  Let  us  now  apply  the  subject  more  im- 
mediately to  the  service  of  this  da}'.  To 
praise  God  is  a  plirase,  which  is  sometimes 
taken  in  a  particular  sense,  for  tiie  exercise 
of  a  person,  who,  having  received  singular 
favours  of  God,  delights  in  expressing  his 
gratitude  to  him.  This  praise  is  comely  in 
the  mouth  of  an  upright  man  for  four  reasons. 
First,  Because  he  arranges  them  in  their 
true  order,  highly  estimating  what  deserves 
a  high  esteem,  and  most  higlily  estimating 
what  deserves   the  highest  esteem. 

Secondly,  Because  he  employs  all  his  bene- 
fits in  the  service  of  his  benefactor. 

Thirdly,  Because,  while  he  recounts  his 
blessings,  he  divests  himself  of  all  merit,  and 
ascribes  them  only  to  the  goodness  of  God 
from  whom  they  proceed. 

Fourthly,  Because  he  imitates  that  good- 
ness and  love,  which  inclined  God  to  bless 
him  in  such  a  manner. 

I  will  affix  to  each  of  tiiese  reflections  a 
single  word.  Praise,  or  if  you  will,  grati- 
tude, '  is  comely  for  tiie  upright,'  because  it 
is  ici-se,  real,  humble,  and  magnanivious : 
in  these  four  respects,  '  praise  is  comely  for 
the  upright.'  These  are  the  sentiments  with 
which  the  august  ceremony  of  which  we  have 
partaken  this  morning,  should  inspire  us. 
These  are  the  most  important  reflections 
with  which  we  can  close  tiiis  discourse. 

1.  The  gratitude  of  upright  men  is  loise. 
The  praise  of  the  Lord  becomes  them  well, 
because,  while  they  bless  God  for  all  their 
mercies,  they  arrange  them  in  their  proper 
order ;  they  prize  each  according  to  its  real 
worth,  and  that  most  of  all  which  is  of  the 
greatest  value.  It  is  a  very  mortifying  re- 
flection, my  brethren,  that  the  more  we 
study  ourselves,  the  more  clearly  we  per- 
ceive, that  the  love  of  the  world,  and  of  sen- 
sible things,  is  the  chief  spring  of  all  our  ac- 
tions and  sentiments.  This  disagreeable 
truth  is  proved,  not  only  by  the  nature  of 
our  vices,  but  even  by  the  genius  of  our 
virtues  ;  not  only  by  the  offences  that  we 
commit  against  God,  but  by  the  very  duties 
that  we  perform  in  his  service. 

A  person  so  ungrateful,  as  not  to  discover 
any  gratitude  to  God,  when  he  bestows  tem- 
poral blessings  on  him,  can  scarcely  be  found. 
We  praise  God,  when  he  delivers  us  from 
any  public  calamit}',  or  from  any  domestic 
adversity  ;  when  he  recovers  us  from  dan- 
gerous illness  ;  when  he  raises  us  up  an  un- 
expected friend,  or  a  protector,  v.'iio  assists 
us  ;  when  he  sends  us  some  prosperit\^  whicli 
renders  life  more  easy.  In  such  cases  as 
these,  we  render  a  homage  to  God,  that  can- 
not be  refused  without  ingratitude. 

But  we  are  extrenjcly  blameablc,  when, 
while  we  feel  the  value  of  these  blessings, 
we  remain  in.«iensiblo  of  the  worth  of  other 
blessings,  which  are  infinitely  mere  valuable. 


and  which  merit  infinitely  more  gratitade. 
A  blessing  that  directly  regards  the  soul,  is 
more  valuable  than  one  which  regards  only 
the  body.  A  blessing,  that  regards  our  eter- 
nal happiness,  is  of  greater  worth,  than  one 
which  influences  only  the  happiness  of  this 
life.  Whence  is  it  then,  that  being  so  sen- 
sible of  the  blessings  of  the  first  kind,  we 
are  so  little  affected  with  those  of  the  last .' 
How  comes  it  to  pass,  that  we  are  so  full  of 
gratitude,  when  God  gives  the  state  some 
signal  victory  ;  when  he  prospprs  its  trade  ; 
when  he  strengthens  the  bonds  that  unite  it 
to  powerful  and  faithful  allies ;  and  so  void 
of  it,  while  he  continues  to  grant  it  the 
greatest  blessing  that  a  society  of  rational 
creatures  can  enjoy,  I  mean  a  liberty  to  serve 
God  according  to  the  dictates  of  our  own 
consciences  .'  Whence  is  it,  that  we  are  so 
very  thankful  to  God  for  preserving  our 
lives  from  the  dangers  that  daily  threaten 
them  and  so  little  thankful  for  his  miraculous 
patience  with  us,  to  which  it  is  owing,  that, 
after  we  have  hardened  our  hearts  against 
his  voice  one  year,  he  invites  us  another 
year ;  after  we  have  falsified  our  promises 
made  on  one  solemnity,  he  calls  us  to  another 
solemnity,  and  gives  us  new  opportunities  of 
being  more  faithful  to  him.'  Whence  comes 
this  difference .'  Follow  it  to  its  source. 
Does  it  not  proceed  from  what  we  just  now 
said .'  Is  not  love  of  the  world,  and  of  sen- 
sible things,  the  grand  spring  of  our  actions 
and  sentiments.'  The  world,  the  world  ;  lo  ! 
this  is  the  touchstone  by  which  we  judge  of 
good  and  evil. 

An  upright  man  judges  in  another  man- 
ner :  he  will  indeed,  bless  God  for  all  his 
benefits  :  but,  as  he  knows  how  to  arrange 
them,  so  he  knows  how  to  prize  each  accord- 
ing to  its  worth,  and  how  to  apportion  his 
esteem  to  the  real  value  of  them  all. 

According  to  such  an  estimation, what  ought 
not  our  gratitude  to  God  to  be  to-day,  my  dear 
brethren  !  we  may  assure  ourselves  with  the 
utmost  truth,  that  had  the  Lord  united  in  our 
houses  to-day  pleasures,  grandeurs,  and  dig- 
nities ;  had  he  promised  each  of  us  a  life 
longer  than  that  of  a  patriarch  ;  a  family  as 
happy  as  that  of  Job,  after  his  misfortunes ; 
glory  as  great  as  that  of  Solomon  ;  he  would 
have  bestowed  nothing  equal  to  that  blessing 
which  he  gaye  us  this  morning.  He  forgave 
those  sins,  which,  had  they  taken  their  na- 
tural course,  would  have  occasioned  endless 

remorse,  and  would  have  plunged  ns  into 
everlasting  misery  and  wo.  A  peace  was 
shed  abroad  in  our  consciences,  which  gave 
us  a  foretaste  of  heaven.  He  excited  hopes, 
tiiat   absorbed   our   souls  in   their  grandeur. 

Let  us  say  all  in  one  word :  he  gave  us  his 
Son.  'He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  how 
shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all 
things        " 


R 


om.  vni.  oii. 


2.  The  gratitude  of  upright  men  is  real. 
The  praise  of  the  Lord  becomes  them,  be- 
cause, while  they  praise  God  for  his  bene- 
fits, they  live  to  tne  glory  of  their  benefac- 
tor. Evqry  gift  of  God  furnishes  v.s  with 
both  a  niotivc  and  ,•!  mean  of  obedience 
to  him.  It  is  an  excess  of  ingratitude  to 
make  a  conUnry  use  of  his  gifls,  and  to  turn 
the  benefits  that  we  receive  a^rK^inst  the  bene- 


Skh.  XIII.] 


PRAISING  GOD. 


141 


factor  from  whom  we  receive  them.  What 
gifts  are  they  by  which  God  has  not  distin- 
guished us.''  Thee  he  has  distinguished 
By  a  penetrating  genius,  which  renders 
the  highest  objects,  the  deepest  myste- 
ries, accessible  to  thee.  Wo  be  to  thee  !  if 
thou  employ  this  gift  to  invent  arguments 
acainst  the  trutlis  of  religion,  and  to  find  out 
sophisms  that  befriend  infidelity.  An  upright 
man  devotes  this  gift  to  the  service  of  his 
benefactor ;  he  avails  himself  of  his  genius, 
to  discover  the  folly  of  skeptical  sophisms, 
and  to  demonstrate  the  truth  of  religion.  On 
thee  he  has  bestowed  an  astonishing  memo- 
ry. Wo  be  to  thee  !  if  thou  use  it  to  retain 
the  pernicious  maxims  of  the  world.  An  iq}- 
right  man  dedicates  this  gift  to  his  benefac- 
tor ;  he  employs  his  memory  in  retaining  the 
excellent  lessons  of  equity,  charity  and  pa- 
tience, which  the  Holy  Spirit  has  taught  him 
in  the  Scriptures.  To  thee  he  has  given  an 
authoritative  elocution,  to  which  every  hear- 
er is  forced  to  bow.  Wo  be  to  thee  !  if  thou 
apply  this  rare  talent  to  seduce  the  minds, 
and  to  deprave  the  hearts,  of  mankind.  An 
upright  man  devotes  this  blessing  to  the 
Bcrvice  of  his  benefactor  ;  he  uses  his  elo- 
quence to  free  the  minds  of  men  from  error, 
and  their  lives  from  vice.  Towards  thee 
God  has  exercised  a  patience,  which  seems 
contrary  to  his  usual  rules  of  conduct  to- 
wards sinners,  and  by  which  he  has  abounded 
towards  thee  in  forbearance  and  longsufter- 
ing.  Wo  be  to  thee  !  if  thou  turn  this  bless- 
ing to  an  opportunity  of  violating  the  com- 
mands of  God;  if  thine  obstinacy  run  paral- 
lel with  his  patience,  and  if,  '  because  sen- 
tence against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed 
speedily,'  '  thy  heart  be  fully  set  in  thee  to 
do  evil,'  Eccl.  viii.  11.  An  upright  man  de- 
votes this  blessing  to  his  benefactor's  service. 
From  the  patience  of  God  he  derives  motives 
of  repentance.  How  easily  might  this  ar- 
ticle be  enlarged  !  how  fruitful  in  instruction 
would  it  be  on  this  solemnity  !  But  we  proceed. 

3.  Gratitude  to  God  well  becomes  an  up- 
right man,  because  it  is  humble  ;  because  an 
upright  man,  by  publishing  the  gifts  of  God's 
grace,  divests  himself  of  himself,  and  attri- 
butes them  wholly  to  the  goodness  of  him 
from  whom  they  came.  Far  from  us  be  a  pro- 
fane mixture  of  the  real  grandeurs  of  the 
Creator  with  the  fanciful  grandeurs  of  crea- 
tures! Far  be  those  praises,  in  which  he 
who  offers  them  always  finds,  in  his  own  ex- 
cellence, the  motives  that  induced  the  Lord 
to  bestow  his  benefits  on  him  ! 

Two  reflections  always  exalt  the  gifts  of 
God  in  the  eyes  of  an  upright  man  :  a  reflec- 
tion on  his  meanness,  and  a  reflection  on  his 
unworthiness  ;  and  it  is  with  this  comeliness 
of  humility,  if  I  may  venture  to  call  it  so, 
that  I  wish  to  engage  you  to  praise  God  for 
the  blessings  of  this  day. 

1.  Meditate  on  your  vicanness.  Contrast 
yourselves  with  God,  who  gives  himself  to 
you  to-day  in  such  a  tender  manner.  How 
soon  is  the  capacity  of  man  absorbed  in  the 
works  and  attributes  of  God !  Conceive,  if 
thou  be  capable,  the  grandeur  of  a  Being, 
who  '  made  the  heavens  by  his  word,  and  all 
tlie  host  of  them,  by  the  breath  of  his  moufh.' 
Think,  if  thou  be  capable  of  thinking,  of  the 


glory  of  a  Being,  who  existed  from  all  eterni- 
ty, whose-understanding  is  infinite,  and  whose 
power  is  irresistible,  whosejwill  is  above  con- 
trol. Behold  him  filling  the  whole  universe 
with  his  presence.  Behold  him  in  the  palaca 
of  his  glory,  inhabiting  the  praises  of  the 
blessed,  surrounded  by  thousand  thousands, 
and  by  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  an- 
gels, who  excel  in  strength,  and  who  delight 
to  fly  at  the  first  signal  of  his  will.  Thou 
human  soul !  contemplate  this  object,  and 
recover  thy  reason.  What  art  thou  ?  What 
was  thine  origin  .'  What  is  thine  end  ?  Thou 
diminutive  atom !  great  only  in  thine  own 
eyes ;  behold  thyself  in  thy  true  point  of 
view.  Dust !  ashes  !  putrefaction  !  gloriou* 
only  at  the  tribunal  of  thine  own  pride  ;  di- 
vest thyself  of  the  tawdry  grandeur  in  which 
thou  lovest  to  array  thyself  Thou  vapour  ! . 
thou  dream  !  Thou  exhalation  of  the  earth  ! 
evaporating  in  the  air,  and  having  no  other 
consistence  than  what  thine  own  imagination 
gives  thee  :  behold  thy  vanity  and  nothing- 
ness. Yet  this  dream,  this  exhalation,  this 
vapour,  this  dust  and  ashes  and  putrefaction, 
this  diminutive  creature,  is  an  object  of  tha 
eternal  care  and  love  of  its  God.  For  thee, 
contemptible  creature !  the  Lord  stretched 
out  the  heavens :  for  thee  he  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  the  earth  :  let  us  say  more,  for  thee, 
contemptible  creature  !  God  formed  the  plan 
of  redemption.  What  could  determine  the 
great  Jehovah  to  communicate  himself,  in 
such  a  tender  and  intimate  manner,  to  go 
contemptible  a  creature  as  man  ?  His  good- 
ness, his  goodness  alone. 

Although  a  sense  of  our  meanness  should 
not  terrify  and  confound  us,  yet  it  should  ex- 
clude arrogance,  and  excite  lowly  sentiments. 
But  what  will  our  humility  be,  if  we  estimate 
the  gifts  of  God's  grace  by  an  idea  of  our 
unworthiness  ?  Let  each  recollect  the  mor- 
tifying history  of  his  own  life.  Remember, 
thou!  thy  (fiery  youth,' in  which,  forgetting 
all  the  principles,  that  thy  pious  parents  had 
taught  thee,  thou  didst  acknowledge  no  law 
but  thine  own  passionate  and  capricious  will. 
Remember,  thou  !  that  period,  in  which  thy 
heart  being  infiituated  with  one  object,  and 
wholly  employed  about  it,  thou  didst  make  it 
thine  idol,  and  didst  sacrifice  to  it  thine  hon- 
our, thy  duty,  thy  God.  Recollect,  thou! 
the  cruel  use,  that  for  many  years  thou  didst 
make  of  thy  credit,  thy  riches,  thy  rank, 
when,  being  devoured  with  self-love,  thou 
wast  insensible  to  the  voice  of  the  widow  and 
the  or])lian,  and  to  a  number  of  distressed 
people,  who  solicited  relief.  Remember  thou  ! 
that  fatal  hour,  the  recollection  of  which 
ought  to  make  thy  '  head  waters,  and  thine 
eyes  a  fountain  of  tears,'  Jer.  ix.  1 ;  that 
fatal  hour,  in  which,  God  having  put  thee 
into  the  fiery  trial  of  persecution,  thou  couldst 
not  abide  the  proof  Like  Peter,  thou  didst 
7iot  knoic  a  disgraced  Redeemer  ;  thou  didst 
cowardly  abandon  a  persecuted  church,  and 
wast  just  on  the  point  of  abjuring  thy  reli- 
gion. Let  each  of  us  so  consider  himself  as 
he  seems  in  the  eyes  of  a  holy  God.  A 
criminal  worthy  of  the  most  rigorous  punish- 
ments !  Lst  each  of  us  say  to  himself,  not- 
withstanding all  this,  it  i-!  I,  guilty  I,  I, 
whose    sins    are   more   in  number  than  the 


143 


THE  MANNER  OF  PRAISING  GOD. 


[Ser.  XIII. 


hatrs  6n  my  head  ;  it  is  I,  who  have  been  ad- 
Itoitted  this  morning  into  the  house  of  God ; 
it  is  I,  who  have  been  invited  this  morning 
to  that  mystical  repast,  which  sovereign  wis- 
dom itself  prepared ;  it  is  I,  who  liave  been 
encouraged  against  the  just  fears,  wliich  the 
remembrance  of  my  sins  had  excited,  and 
have  heard  the  voice  of  God,  proclaiming  in 
my  conscience,  '  Fear  not  thou  worm  Jacob,' 
Isa.  xh.  14.  It  is  I,  who  have  been  'abun- 
dantly satisfied  with  the  fatness  of  the  house' 
6f  God,  and  have  '  drunk  of  the  river  of  his 
pl6asures,\Ps.  xxxvi.  8.  What  inclines  God 
to  indulge  me  in  this  manner  ?  Goodness 
Only  !  O  surpassing  and  inconceivable  good- 
ness !  thou  shalt  for  ever  be  the  object  of  my 
meditation  and  gratitude  !  '  How  excellent  is 
thy  loving  kindness,  O  God  !'  ver.  7.  These 
are  the  sentiments  that  ought  to  animate  our 
praise  to-day.  Such  '  praise  is  comely  for 
the  upright.' 

Finally,  the  gratitude  of  an  upright'man  is 
Hohle  and  magnanimous.  The  praise  of  God 
■well  becomes  the  mouth  of  an  upright  man, 
bcause  he  takes  the  love  of  God  to  him  for  a 
pattern  of  his  behaviour  to  his  fellow  crea- 
tures. St.  Paul  has  very  emphatically  ex- 
pressed the  happy  change  which  the  gospel 
produces  in  true  Christians.  '  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,'  2  Cor.  iii.  18.  Some  commentators, 
Instead  of  reading  '  we  all  beholding  as  in  a 
glass,'  as  the  expression  is  rendered  in  our 
translation,  render  the  words,  '  We  all  becom- 
ing mirrors.'  I  will  not  undertake  to  prove 
that  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  term  :  it  is  cer- 
tainly the  sense  of  the  apostle.*  He  means  to 
inform  us,  that  the  impression,  which  the 
evangelical  display  of  the  perfections  of  God 
makes  on  the  souls  of  believers  engraves  them 
on  their  minds,  and  renders  them  Uke  mir- 
rors, that  reflect  the  rays,  and  the  objects 
which  are  placed  opposite  to  them,  and  repre- 
■ent  their  images.  '  They  behold  the  glory 
of  the  Lord  with  open  face.  They  are  chang- 
ed from  glory  to  glory  into  the  same  image, 
even  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.'     I  wish. 


•  Tht  idea  of  reflecting,  while  one  contemplates, 
the  attributes  of  Ood,  is  a  very  fine  thought,  .ind  fully 
•ipressive  of  the  hejievolent  elfects  which  Christian- 
ity produces  in  its  disciples:  but  Mr.  !-^aurin,  whose 
business  as  a  Christian  minister  was  not  with  the  fine, 
but  the  true,  only  meant,  by  what  he  had  said  above, 
that  it  was  agreeable  to  the  general  design  of  the 
apostle.  Erasmus  was  the  first  who  translated  St. 
Paul's  term  )ca.TcTTp;;^f;^jro/  in  speculo  representantes. 
Beza  renders  it,  in  speculo  intucntes,  and  the  French 
bibles  have  it,  nous  contemplons  comme  en  un  niiroir. 
Our  author  was  delighted  with  the  ingenuity  of  Eras- 
mus, however,  he  could  not  accede  to  his  translation, 
because,  1.  He  could  meet  with  no  Greek  author,  co- 
temporary  with  St.  Paul,  who  had  used  the  term  in 
the  sense  of  Erasmus.  12.  Because  he  CDuld  not  per- 
ceive any  connexion  between  that  signification  and 
the  phriise  with  open  face.  He  abode  therefore  by  the 
usual  reading.  SeeSerm.  Tom.  ix.  S.  viii.  My  idea  of 
an  object  pleases  me,  therefore  it  is  a  true  idea  of  it, 
is  contemptible  logic:  yet  how  many  pretended  arti- 
cles of  religion  have  arisen  from  this  way  of  reasoning  i 


my  brethren,  that  the  impression,  which  was 
made  on  you  by  the  generosity  and  magna- 
nimity of  God,  who  loaded  you  this  morning 
with  his  gracious  benefits,  may  transform  you 
to-day  '  into  the  same  image  from  glory  to 
glory.'  I  would  animate  you  with  this,  the 
most  noble,  the  most  sublime,  the  most  com- 
fortable, way  of  praising  God. 

What  gave  you  so  much  peace  and  plea- 
sure this  morning,  in  what  God  did  for  you  ? 
Was  it  the  pardon  of  your  sins  ?  Imitate  it ; 
pardon  your  brethren.  Was  it  his  past  for- 
bearance with  you  ?  Imitate  it ;  moderate 
that  impatience  which  the  ingratitude  of  your 
brethren  excites  in  your  minds.  Was  it  that 
spirit  of  communication,  which  disposed  a 
God,  who  is  all-suflicient  to  his  own  happiness, 
to  go  out  of  himself,  as  it  were,  and  to  commu- 
nicate his  felicity  to  creatures  ?  Imitate  it ; 
go  out  of  those  entrenchments  of  prosperity 
in  which  ye  lodge,  and  impart  your  benefits 
to  your  brethren.  Was  it  the  continual  watch 
fulness  of  God  for  the  salvation  of  your  souls? 
Imitate  it ;  exert  yourselves  for  the  salvation 
of  the  souls  of  your  brethren ;  suffer  not 
those  who  are  united  to  you  by  all  the  ties  of 
nature,  society  and  religion,  to  perish  through 
your  lukewarmness  and  negligence.  While 
ye  triumphantly  e.xclaim,  on  this  solemn  fes- 
tival, '  Let  us  make  a  joyful  noise  to  the  Rock 
of  our  salvation,'  Ps.  xcv.  1.  remember  your 
persecuted  brethren,  to  whom  God  refuses 
this  pleasure  ;  remember  '  the  ways  of  Zion,' 
that  '  mourn  because  none  come  to  the  solemn 
feasts,'  Lam.  i.  4. 

My  brethren,  how  pleasing  is  a  Christian 
festival!  How  comfortable  the  institution,  to 
which  we  were  this  morning  called  !  But,  I  re- 
member here  a  saying  of  Jesus  Christ  to  his 
apostles, '  I  have  other  sheep,  which  are  not  of 
this  fold  :  them  also  I  must  bring,  and  there 
shall  be  one  fold,  and  one  shepherd,'  John  x. 
IG.  Alas!  we  also  have  sheep  in  another  fold. 
When  shall  we  have  the  comfort  of  bringing 
them  into  this  .''  Ye  divided  families  who  are 
present  in  this  assembly,  when  will  ye  be  uni- 
ted ?  Ye  children  of  the  reformation  !  whom 
the  misfortunes  of  the  times  have  torn  from 
us  .'  ye  dear  parts  of  ourselves  !  when  will  ye 
come  to  us  .''  When  will  ye  be  regathered  to 
the  flock  of  the  great  '  Shepherd  and  Bishop 
of  our  souls?'  Wlien  will  ye  shed  in  our  as- 
semblies tears  of  repentance,  for  having  lived 
so  long  without  a  church,  vvithout  sacraments, 
without  public  worship  ?  When  will  ye  shed 
tears  of  joy  for  having  recovered  these  advan- 
tages ? 

Great  God  !  Thou  great  '  God  who  hidest 
thyself  I'  is  it  to  extinguish,  or  to  inflame  our 
zeal,  that  thou  delayest  the  happy  period .'' 
Arc  our  hopes  suspended  or  confounded .' 
God  grant,  my  dear  brethren,  that  the  praise, 
which  we  render  to  the  Lord  for  all  his  bene- 
fits, may  obtain  their  continuance  and  in- 
crease !  And  God  grant,  while  he  gives  us 
our  '  lives  for  a  prey,'  Jer.  xxi.  9,  that  those  of 
our  brethren  may  be  given  us  also  !  To  him 
be  honour  and  glory  for  ever  !  Amen. 


SERMON    XIV. 


THE       PRICE      OF        TRUTH. 


Proverbs  xxiii.  23. 
Buy  the  Truth. 


'  What  is  truth  ?-  Jolm  xviii.  36.  This 
question  Pilate  formerly  put  to  Jesus  Christ, 
and  there  are  two  things,  my  brethren,  in  the 
Scripture  account  of  this  circumstance  very 
surprising.  It  seems  strange  that  Jesus 
Christ  should  not  answer  Pilate's  question  ; 
and  it  seems  equally  strange  tliat  Pilate  should 
not  repeat  the  question  till  he  procured  an 
answer  from  Jesus  Christ.  One  principal  de- 
sign of  the  Son  of  God,  in  becoming  incar- 
nate, was  to  dissipate  the  clouds  with  which 
the  enemy  of  mankind  had  obscured  the  truth  ; 
to  free  jit  from  the  numberless  errors  with 
which  the  spirit  of  falsehood  had  adulterated 
it  among  the  miserable  posterity  of  Adam ; 
and  to  make  the  fluctuating  conjectures  of  rea- 
son subside  to  the  demonstrative  evidence  of 
revelation.  Jesus  Christ  himself  had  just  be- 
fore said,  '  to  this  end  v/as  I  born,  and  for  this 
cause  came  I  into  tjie  world,  that  I  should 
bear  witness  unto  the  truth,'  ver.  37 ;  yet, 
here  is  a  man  lying  in  the  dismal  night  of  pa- 
ganism ;  a  man  born  in  '  darkness,  having  no 
hope,  and  being  without  God  in  the  world,' 
Eph.  V.  8  ;  and  ii.  12;  here  is  a  man,  who, 
from  the  bottom  of  that  abyss  in  whicli  he 
lies,  implores  the  rays  of  that  '  light  which 
lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  tlie 
world,'  John  i.  9  ;  and  asks  Jesus  Christ, 
'  What  is  truth  ?'  and  Jesus  Christ  refused  to 
assist  his  inquiry,  he  does  not  even  condescend 
to  answer  this  wise  and  interesting  question. 
Is  not  this  very  astonishing '  Is  not  this  a 
kind  of  miracle  ^ 

But  if  Jesus  Christ's  silence  be  surprising, 
is  it  not  equally  astonishing  that  Pilate  slioukl 
not  repeat  the  question,  and  endeavour  to 
persuade  Jesus  Clirist  to  give  him  an  answer. 
A  man,  who  had  discovered  the  true  grounds 
of  the  hatred  of  the  Jews  ;  a  man,  wlio  knew 
that  the  virtues  of  the  illustrious  convict  had 
occasioned  their  accusations  against  him ; 
a  man,  who  could  not  be  ignorant  of  the 
fame  of  his  miracles  ;  a  man,  who  was  oblig- 
ed, as  it  were,  to  become  the  apologist  of  tiie 
supposed  culprit  before  him,  and  to  use  this 
plea,  '  I  find  in  him  no  fault  at  all ;'  which 
condemned  the  pleader,  while  it  justified  him 
for  whose  sake  the  plea  was  made  ;  this  man 
only  glances  at  an  opportunity  of  knowing 
the  truth.  He  asks,  '  What  is  truth  .'"  But 
it  does  not  much  signify  to  him,  whether  Je- 
sus Christ  answer  the  question  or  not.  Is 
not  this  very  astonishing  .''  Is  not  this  also  a 
kind  of  miracle  ? 

My  brethren,  one  of  these  wonders  is  the 
cause  of  the  other,  and,  if  you  consider  them 
in  connexion,  your  astonishment  will  cease. 
On  tlie  one  hand,  Jesus  Clu'ist  did  not  answer 
Pilate's    question,    because    he  saw    plainly, 


that  his  iniquitous  judge  had  not  such  aii  ar- 
dent love  of  truth,  such  a  spirit  of  disinterest- 
edness and  vehement  zeal,  as  truth  da- 
served.  On  the  other,  Pilate,  who  perhaps 
might  have  liked  well  enough  to  have  knowq 
truth,  if  a  simple  wish  could  have  obtained  it, 
gave  up  the  desire  at  the  first  silence  of  Je- 
sus Christ.  He  did  not  think  truth  deserved 
to  be  inquired  after  twice. 

The  conduct  of  Jesus  Christ  to  Pilate,  an4 
the  conduct  of  Pilate  to  Jesus  Christ,  is  re- 
peated every  day.  Our  assiduity *at  church, 
our  attention  to  the  voice  of  the  servants  of 
God,  our  attachment  to  the  sacred  books  iu 
which  truth  is  deposited  ;  all  these  dispositions, 
and  all  these  steps  in  our  conduct,  are,  in  a 
manner,  so  many  repetitions  of  Pilate's  ques- 
tion, '  What  is  truth  V  What  is  moral  truth  f 
What  is  the  doctrinal  truth  of  a  future  state, 
of  judgment,  of  heaven,  of  hell .''  But  how 
often,  content  with  the  putting  of  these 
questions,  do  we  refuse  that  assiduous  appli- 
cation of  the  mind,  that  close  attention  of 
thought,  which  the  answers  to  our  questions 
would  require  !  How  often  are  we  in  pain, 
lest  the  light  of  the  truth,  that  is  shining 
around  us,  should  force  us  to  discover  some 
objects,  of  which  we  choose  to  be  ignorant ! 
Jesus  Clirist,  therefore,  often  leaves  us  to 
wander  in  our  own  miserable  dark  conjec- 
tures. Hence  so  many  prejudices,  hence  so 
many  erroneous  opinions  of  religion  and 
morality,  hence  so  many  dangerous  delu- 
sions, which  we  cherish,  even  while  they  di- 
vert our  attention  from  the  great  end,  to 
which  we  ought  to  direct  all  our  thoughts, 
designs,  and  views. 

1  would  fiiin  show  you  the  road  to  truth  to- 
day, my  brethren  ;  open  to  you  the  path  that 
leads  to  it ;  and  by  motives  taken  from  the 
grand  advantages  that  attend  the  knowledge 
of  it,  animate  you  to  walk  in  it. 

I.  We  will  examine  what  it  costs  to  know 
truth. 

II.  What  truth  is  worth. 
Our  text  is,  '  buy  the  truth  ;'    and  the  titi© 

of  our  sermon  shall  be.  The  Christian's  Logic. 
Doubtless  the  greatest  design  that  an  immor- 
tal mind  can  revolve,  is  that  of  know\n^  truth 
one's  self:  and  the  design,  which  is  next  to 
the  former  in  importance,  and  which  sur- 
passes it  in  difficulty,  is  that  of  imparting  it 
to  others.  But  if  a  love  of  truth  ;  if  a  desire 
of  imparting  it  to  a  people,  whom  I  bear  al- 
ways on  my  heart ;  if  ardent  prayers  to  the 
God  o?  truth  ;  if  these  dispositions  can  obtain 
the  knowledge  of  truth,  and  the  power  of  im- 
parting it,  we  may  venture  to  hope,  that  we 
sliall  not  preach  in  vain.  May  God  himself 
crown  our  hopes  with  success  ! 


144 


THE  PRICE  OF  TRUTH. 


[Ser.  XIV. 


I.  We  arc  to  inquire  for  tlic  road  that  leads 
to  truth;  or,  to  use  the  ideas  of  tiie  text, 
we  are  to  tell  you  what  it  costs  to  know  truth. 

Before  wo  enter  on  this  inquiry,  it  is  neccs- 
Bary  to  determine  what  we  mean  by  truth. 
If  there  be  an  equivocal  word  in  the  world, 
either  in  regard  to  human  sciences,  or  in  re- 
gard to  religion,  it  is  this  word  tridli.  But, 
not  to  enter  into  a  metaphysical  dissertation 
on  the  different  ideas  that  are  affixed  to  the 
term,  we  will  content  ourselves  with  indicat- 
ing the  ideas  which  we  affix  to  it  here. 

Truth  ought  not  to  be  considered  here  as 
subsisting  in  a  subject,  independently  of  the  re- 
flections of  an  intelligence  that  considers  it. 
I  do  not  affirm  that  there  is  not  a  truth  in 
every  object  which  subsists,  whether  we  at- 
tend to  it  or  not :  but  I  say,  that  in  these 
phrases,  to  search  truth,  to  love  truth,  to  buy 
truth,  the  term  is  relative,  and  expresses  a 
harmony  between  the  object  and  the  mind 
that  considers  it,  a  conformity  between  the 
object  and  the  idea  we  have  of  it.  To  search 
after  truth,  is  to  endeavour  to  obtain  ade- 
quate ideas  of  the  object  of  our  reflections  ; 
and  to  buy  truth,  is  to  make  all  the  sacrifi- 
ces which  are  necessary  for  the  obtain- 
ing of  such  ideas  as  are  proportional  to 
the  objects  of  which  our  notions  are  the  ima- 

fes.  By  truth,  then,  we  mean,  an  agreement 
etween  an  object  and  our  idea  of  it. 
But  we  may  extend  our  meditation  a  little 
farther.  The  term  truth,  taken  in  the  sense 
we  have  now  given  it,  is  one  of  those  abstract 
terms,  the  precise  meaning  of  which  can  never 
be  ascertained,  without  determining  the  object 
to  which  it  is  attributed.  There  is  a  truth 
In  every  art  and  science.  There  is  a 
truth  in  the  art  of  rising  in  the  world  ;  a  cer- 
tain choice  of  means  ;  a  certain  dexterous  ap- 
plication of  circumstances  ;  a  certain  promp- 
titude at  seizing  an  opportunity.  The  cour- 
tier buijs  this  truth,  by  his  assiduity  at  court, 
by  his  continual  attention  to  the  looks,  the 
features,  the  gestures,  the  will,  the  whimsies, 
of  his  prince.  The  merchant  huijs  this  truth 
at  the  expense  of  his  rest  and  his  health ; 
sometimes  at  the  expense  of  his  life,  and  often 
at  that  of  his  conscience  and  his  salvation. 
In  like  manner,  there  is  a  truth  in  the  sci- 
ences. A  mathematician  racks  his  invention, 
spends  whole  nights  and  days,  suspends  the 
most  lawful  pleasures,  and  the  most  natural 
inclinations,  to  find  the  solution  of  a  problem 
in  a  relation  of  figures,  in  a  combination  of 
numbers.  These  are  not  the  truths  which 
the  Wise  Man  exhorts  us  to  bm/.  They  have 
their  value,  I  own,  but  how  seldom  are  they 
Worth  what  they  cost  to  obtain  ! 

What  then  is  Solomon's  idea  .•'  Docs  he 
mean  only  the  truths  of  religion,  and  the  sci- 
ence of  salvation.'  There,  certainly,  that 
which  is  truth  by  excellence  may  be  found; 
nor  can  it  be  bought  too  dear.  I  do  not  think, 
however,  that  it  would  comprehend  the  pre- 
cise meaning  of  the  Wise  Man  to  imdcrsland 
4>y  truth  here  the  science  of  salvation  alone. 
Hii  expression  is  vague,  it  comprehends  all 
truths,  it  offers  to  the  mind  a  general  idea, 
the  idea  of  universal  truth.  '  Buy  the  truth.' 
But  what  is  this  general  idea  of  truth  ^ 
What  is  universal  trutli?  Does  Solomon  men  n, 
that  we  should  aim  to  obtain  adequate  ideas  of 


all  beings,  that  wc  should  try  to  acquire  the 
perfection  of  all  arts,  that  we  should  compre- 
hend the  mysteries  of  all  sciences  .■'  Who  is 
equal  to  this  undertaking  .' 

It  seems  to  me,  my  brethren,  that  when  he  j 
exhorts  us  here  to  '  buy  the  truth,'  in  this  1 
vague  and  indeterminate  sense,  he  means  to 
excite  us  to  endeavour  to  acquire  that  happy 
disposition  of  mind  which  makes  us  give  to 
every  question,  that  is  proposed  to  us,  the 
time  and  attention  which  it  deserves  :  to  each 
proof  its  evidence ;  to  each  difficulty  its 
weight ;  to  every  good  its  real  value.  He 
means  to  inspire  us  with  that  accuracy  of 
discernment,  that  equity  of  judgment,  which 
would  enable  us  to  consider  a  demonstration 
as  demonstrative,  and  a  probability  as  proba- 
ble only,  what  is  worthy  of  a  great  appli- 
cation as  worthy  of  a  great  application, 
wliat  deserves  only  a  moderate  love  as  wor- 
thy of  only  a  moderate  love,  and  what  de- 
serves an  infinite  esteem  as  of  an  infinite  es- 
teem ;  and  so  on.  This,  I  think,  n)y  breth- 
ren, is  the  disposition  of  mind  with  wliich 
Solomon  means  to  inspire  us.  This,  if  I  may 
be  allowed  to  say  so,  is  an  aptness  to  univer- 
sal truth.  With  this  disposition,  we  may  go 
as  far  in  the  attainment  of  particular  truths 
as  the  measure  of  the  talents,  which  we  have 
received  of  God,  and  the  various  circum- 
stances, in  which  Providence  has  placed  us, 
will  allow.  Especially,  by  this  disposition, 
we  shall  be  convinced  of  this  principle,  to 
which  Solomon's  grand  design  was  to  con- 
duct us  ;  that  the  science  of  salvation  is  that, 
which,  of  all  others,  deserves  the  greatest  ap- 
plication of  our  minds  and  hearts;  and  with 
this  disposition  we  shall  make  immense  ad- 
vances in  the  science  of  salvation. 

But  neither  this  universal  truth,  nor  the 
disposition  of  mind  which  conducts  us  to  it, 
can  be  acquired  without  labour  and  sacrifice. 
They  must  be  bought.  '  Buy  the  truth.' 
And,  to  confine  myself  to  some  distinct  ideas, 
universal  truth,  or  the  disposition  of  mind, 
which  leads  to  it,  requires  the  sacrifice  of 
dissipation  ;  the  sacrifice  of  indolence  ;  the 
sacrifice  of  jirecipitancy  of  judgment ;  the 
sacrifice  of  prejudice  ;  the  sacrifice  of  ohsti- 
nacii  ;  the  sacrifice  of  c?<rios«?(/ ;  the  sacrifice 
of  tiie  passions.  We  comprise  the  matter  in 
seven  precepts. 

1.  Be  attentive. 

2.  Do  not  be  discouraged  at  labour. 

3.  Suspend  your  judgment. 

4.  Let  prejudice  yield  to  reason. 

5.  Be  teachable. 

6.  Restrain  your  avidity  of  knowing. 

7.  In  order  to  edily  your  mind,  subdue  your 
heart. 

This  is  the  price  at  which  God  has  put  up 
this  universal  truth,  and  the  disposition  that 
leads  to  it.  If  you  cannot  resolve  on  making 
all  these  sacrifices,  yr)u  may,  perhaps,  arrive 
at  sonic  ]>articular  truth  :  but  you  can  never 
obtain  universal  truth.  You  may,  perhaps, 
become  famous  mathematicians,  or  geometri- 
cians, judicious  critics,  or  celebrated  officers ; 
but  you  can  never  become  real  disciples  of 
trutli. 

\.  The  sacrifice  of  dissipation  is  the  first 
])rico  we  nuist  ]),ay  fur  tlio  truth.  Be  attrntivc 
13  the  first  precept,  which  we   must  obey,  if 


Ser.  XIV.] 


THE  PRICE  OF  TRUTH. 


145 


we  would  know  it.  A  modern  philosopher* 
has  carried,  I  think,  this  precept  too  far.  He 
pretends,  that  the  mind  of  man  is  united  to 
two  very  different  beings :  first  to  the  portion 
of  matter,  which  constitutes  his  body,  and 
next,  to  God,  to  eternal  wisdom,  to  universal 
reason.  He  pretends,  that,  as  the  emotions, 
which  are  excited  in  our  brain,  are  the  cause 
of  our  sentiments,  effects  of  the  union  of  the 
soul  to  the  body  ;  so  attention  is  the  occasional 
cause  of  our  knowledge,  and  of  our  ideas, 
effects  of  the  union  of  our  mind  to  God,  to 
eternal  wisdom,  to  universal  reason.  The 
system  of  this  philosopher  on  this  subject  has 
been,  long  since,  denominated  a  philosophical 
romance.  It  includes,  however,  the  neces- 
sity, and  the  advantage,  of  attention,  which 
is  of  the  last  importance.  Dissipation  is  a 
turn  of  mind,  which  makes  us  divide  our 
mind  among  various  objects,  at  a  time  when 
we  ought  to  fix  it  wholly  on  one.  Attention 
is  the  opposite  disposition,  which  collects, 
and  fixes  our  ideas  on  one  object.  Two  re- 
flections will  be  sufficient  to  px'ove  that  truth 
is  unattainable  without  the  sacrifice  of  dissi- 
pation, and  the  application  of  a  close  atten- 
tion. 

The  first  reflection  is  taken  from  the  nature 
of  the  human  mind,  which  is  finite,  and  con- 
tracted within  a  narrow  sphere.  We  have 
only  a  portion  of  genius.  If,  while  we  are 
examining  a  compound  proposition,  we  do 
not  proportion  our  attention  to  the  extent  of 
the  proposition,  we  shall  see  it  only  in  part, 
and  we  shall  fall  into  error.  The  most  absurd 
propositions  have  some  motives  of  credibility. 
If  we  consider  only  two  motive*  of  credibility, 
in  a  subject  which  has  two  degrees  of  proba- 
bility, and  if  we  consider  three  degrees  of 
probability  in  a  subject  which  has  only  four, 
this  last  will  appear  more  credible  to  us  than 
tJie  first. 

The  second  reflection  is  taken  from  expe- 
rience. Every  one  who  has  made  the  trial, 
knows  that  things  have  appeared  to  him  true 
or  false,  probable  or  certain,  according  to  the 
dissipation  which  divided,  or  the  attention 
whicJi  fixed,  his  mind  in  tlie  examination. 
Whence  is  it,  that  on  certain  days  of  retire- 
ment, recollection,  and  meditation,  piety 
seems  to  be  the  only  object  worthy  of  our  at- 
tachment, and,  with  a  mind  fully  convinced, 
we  say,  '  My  portion,  O  Lord  is  to  keep  tliy 
words.''  Ps.  cxix.  57.  Whence  is  it,  that, 
in  hearing  a  sermon,  in  which  the  address  of 
the  preacher  forces  our  attention  in  a  manner 
in  spite  of  ourselves,  we  exclaim,  as  Israel  of 
old  did,  '  All  that  the  Lord  hath  spoken,  we 
will  do.''  Exod.  xix.  8.  Whence  is  it,  that 
on  a  death-bed,  we  freely  acknowledge  the 
solidity  of  the  instructions  that  have  been 
•given  us  on  the  emptiness  of  worldly  j)osscs- 
sions  and  readily  join  our  voices  to  all  tliose  that 
cry,  '  Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity,  and 
vexation  of  spirit ,'"  Eccl.  i.  2.  Whence  is  it, 
on  the  contrary,  that  in  the  gayoty  of  yovitli, 
and  in  the  vigour  of  health,  the  same  objects 
appear  to  us  substantial  and  solid  which 
seem  void  and  vexatious  when  we  come  to 
die  .''  How  comes  it  to  pass,  that  a  commerce 


*  Malbranelie  in  his  Search  aftor  Tnilh. 
iii.  chap.  6. 


«ook 


with  the  world  subverts  all  the  eystema  of 
piety,  which  we  form  in  our  closets  ?  How 
is  it,  that  demonstrations  expire  when  ser- 
mons end,  and  that  all  we  have  felt  in  the 
church  ceases  to  affect  us  when  we  go  out  of 
the  gate .'  Is  there,  then,  nothing  sure  in  the 
nature  of  beings .'  Is  truth  nothing  but  an  ex- 
terior denomination,  as  the  schools  term  it, 
nothing  but  a  creature  of  reason,  a  manner  of 
conceiving  ^  Does  our  mind  change  its  nature, 
as  circumstances  change  the  appearance  of 
things  ^  Does  that,  which  was  true  in  our 
closets,  in  our  churches,  in  a  calm  of  our  pas- 
sions, become  false  when  the  passions  are  ex- 
cited, when  the  church  doors  are  shut,  and  the 
world  appears  .'  God  forbid !  It  is  because,  in 
the  first  circumstances,  we  are  all  taken  up 
with  studying  the  truth;  whereas  health, the 
world,  the  passions,  disperse  (so  to  speak)  our 
attention,  and  by  dissipating,  weaken  it. 

I  add  farther.  Dissipation  is  one  ordinary 
source,  not  only  of  errors  in  judgment,  but 
also  of  criminal  actions  in  practice.  We  de- 
claim, perhaps  too  much,  against  the  malic© 
of  mankind.  Perhaps  men  may  not  be  so- 
wicked  as  we  imagine.  When  we  can  obtairt 
their  attention  to  certain  truths,  we  find  thera 
affected  with  them  ;  we  find  their  hearts  ac- 
cessible to  motives  of  equity,  gratitude,  and 
love.  If  men  seem  averse  to  these  virtues,  it 
is  sometimes  because  they  are  taken  up  with 
a  circle  of  temporal  objects ;  it  is  because 
their  attention  is  divided,  and  dissipated 
among  them ;  it  is  because  the  hurry  of  the 
world  incessantly  defeats  them.  Ignorance 
and  error  are  inseparable  from  dissipation. 
Be  attentive,  then,  is  the  first  precept  w© 
give  you.  The  sacrifice  of  dissipation,  then, 
is  necessary,  in  order  to  our  arrival  at  the 
knowledge  of  truth. 

But,  if  truth  can  be  obtained  only  by  ob- 
serving this  precept,  and  by  making  this  sa) 
crifice,  let  us  ingenuously  own, truthis  put  up 
at  a  price,  and  at  a  great  price.  The  expres- 
sion of  the  Wise  Man  is  just,  the  truth  must 
be  bought.  '  Buy  the  truth.'  Our  minds, 
averse  from  recollection  and  attention,  love 
to  rove  from  object  to  object ;  they  particular- 
ly avoid  those  objects  which  are  intellectual, 
and  which  have  nothing  to  engage  the  senses, 
of  which  kind  are  the  truths  of  religion.  The 
majesty  of  an  invisible  God, '  who  hideth  him- 
self,' cannot  captivate  them  ;  and  as  they  are 
usually  employed  about  earthly  things,  so 
terrestrial  ideas  generally  involve  them.  Sa- 
tan, who  knows  that  a  believer,  studious  of 
the  truth,  is  the  most  formidable  enemy  to 
his  empire,  strives  to  divert  him  from  it.  As 
soon  as  Abraham  prepares  his  offering,  the 
birds  of  prey  interrupt  his  sacrifice  :  a  disci- 
ple of  truth  drives  such  birds  away.  Among 
various  objects,  amidst  numerous  dissipations, 
in  spite  of  opposite  ideas,  which  resist  and 
combat  one  another,  he  gathers  up  his  at~ 
tention,  and  unreservedly  turns  his  soul  to 
the  study  of  truth. 

2.  The  second  sacrifice  is  tliat  of  indolence, 
or  slothflilness  of  mind  ;  and.  Be  not  dis- 
couraged at  labour  is  the  second  precept, 
which  must  be  observed  if  you  would  obtain 
the  knowledge  of  truth.  This  article  is  con- 
nected with  the  preceding.  The  tsacrifice  of 
dissipation  cannot  be  made,  without  making 


146 


THE  PRICE  OF  TRUTH. 


[Ser,  XIV. 


this  of  indolence,  or  sluo^gishness  of  mind. 
Attention  is  labour  ;  it  is  even  one  of  the 
most  painful  labours.  The  labour  of  the 
mind  is  often  more  painful  than  that  of  the 
body ;  and  the  greatest  part  of  mankind  have 
less  aversion  to  the  greatest  fatigues  of 
tJie  body,  than  to  the  least  application  of 
miiid.  The  military  life  seems  the  most  la- 
borious ;  yet,  what  an  innumerable  multitude 
of  men  prefer  it  before  the  study  of  the  sci- 
ences !  This  is  the  reason,  the  study  of  the 
Bciences  requires  a  contention,  which  costs 
our  indolence  more  than  the  military  life 
would  cost  it. 

Although  the  labour  of  the  mind  be  painful, 
yet  it  is  surmountable,  and  it  is  formed  in 
the  same  manner  in  which  fatigue  of  body  is 
rendered  tolerable.  A  man  who  is  accustom- 
ed to  ease  and  rest ;  a  man,  who  has  been 
delicately  brought  up,  cannot  bear  to  pass 
days  and  nights  on  horseback,  to  have  no  set- 
tled abode,  to  be  continually  in  action,  to 
waste  away  by  the  heat  of  the  day,  and  the 
inclemency  of  the  night.  Nothing  but  use 
and  exercise  can  harden  a  man  to  these  fa- 
tigues. In  like  manner,  a  man,  who  has 
been  accustomed  to  pass  his  days  and  nights 
on  horseback,  to  have  no  settled  abode,  to 
be  continually  in  action,  to  wear  liimself  out 
with  the  heat  of  the  day,  and  the  cold  of  the 
night ;  a  man  whose  body  seems  to  have 
changed  its  nature,  and  to  have  contracted 
the  hardness  of  iron,  or  stone  ;  such  a  man 
cannot  bear  the  fatigue  of  attention.  It  is 
then  necessary  to  accustom  the  mind  to  la- 
bour, to  enure  it  to  exercise,  to  render  it  apt, 
by  habit  and  practice,  to  make  those  efforts  of 
attention,  which  elevate  those,  who  are  capa- 
ble of  them,  to  ideas  the  most  sublime,  and 
to  mysteries  the  most  abstruse. 

They,  whom  Providence  calls  to  exercise 
mechanical  arts,  have  reason  to  complain ; 
for  every  thing,  that  is  necessary  to  discharge 
the  duties  of  their  calling,  diverts  their  at- 
tention from  what  we  are  now  recommend- 
ing, and  absorbs  their  minds  in  sensible  and 
material  objects.  God,  however,  will  exer- 
cise his  equitable  mercy  towards  them,  and 
their  cases  afford  us  a  presumptive  proof  of 
that  admirable  diversity  of  judgment,  which 
God  will  observe  at  the  last  day.  He  will 
make  a  perfect  distribution  of  the  various 
circumstances  of  mankind  ;  and  '  to  whom 
he  hath  committed  much,  of  him  he  will  ask 
the  more,'  Luke  xii.  46. 

Let  no  one  abuse  this  doctrine.  Every 
mechanic  is  engaged,  to  a  certain  degree,  to 
sacrifice  indolence  and  dulness  of  mind. 
Every  mechanic  has  an  immortal  soul.  Every 
mechanic  ought  to  '  buy  the  truth'  by  labour 
and  attention.  Let  every  one  of  you,  then, 
make  conscience  of  devoting  a  part  of  his 
time  to  recollection  and  meditation.  Lot 
each,  amidst  the  meanest  occupations,  ac- 
custom himself  to  think  of  a  future  state. 
Let  each  endeavour  to  surmount  the  reluc- 
tance, which  alas  !  we  all  have,  to  the  study 
of  abstract  subjects.  Be  not  disheartened 
at  Inhonr,  is  our  second  precept.  The  sacri- 
fice of  indolence  and  sluggishness  of  mind,  is 
the  second  sacrifice  which  truth  demands. 

."V  It  requires,  in  t^e  next   place,  that  we 


Few  people  are  capable  of  thia  sacrifice :  iii- 
deed,  there  are  but  few  who  do  not  consider 
suspension  of  judgment  aa  a  weakness, 
although  it  is  one  of  the  noblest  efforts  of 
genius  and  capacity.  In  regard  to  human 
sciences,  it  is  thought  a  disgrace  to  say,I  can- 
not determine  such,  or  such  a  question  :  the 
decision  of  it  would  require  so  many  years' 
study  and  examination.  I  have  been  but  so 
many  years  in  the  world,  and  I  have  spent  a 
part  in  the  study  of  this  science,  a  part  in 
the  pursuit  of  that ;  one  part  in  this  domestic 
employment,  and  another  in  that.  It  is  ab- 
surd to  suppose  that  I  have  been  able  to  ex- 
amine all  the  principles,  and  all  the  conse- 
quences, all  the  calculations,  all  the  proofs, 
and  all  the  difficulties,  on  which  the  illustra- 
tion of  this  question  depends.  Wisdom  re- 
quires, that  my  mind  should  remain  undeter- 
mined on  this  question  ;  that  I  should  neither 
affirm,  nor  deny,  any  thing  of  a  subject,  the 
evidences  and  the  difficulties  of  which  are 
alike  unknown  to  me. 

In  regard  to  religion,  people  usually  make 
a  scruple  of  conscience  of  suspending  their 
judgments  ;  yet,  in  our  opinion,  a  Christian 
is  so  much  the  more  obliged  to  do  this,  by 
how  much  more  the  truths  of  the  gospel  sur- 
pass in  sublimity  and  importance  all  the  ob- 
jects of  human  science.  I  forgive  this  folly 
in  a  man  educated  in  superstition,  who  is 
threatened  with  eternal  damnation,  if  he  re  • 
nounce  certain  doctrines,  which  not  |only  he 
has  not  examined,  but  which  he  is  forbidden 
to  examine  under  the  same  penalty.  But 
that  casuists,  who  are,  or  who  ought  to  be, 
men  of  learning  and  piety,  should  imagine 
they  have  obtained  a  signal  victory  over  in- 
fidelity, and  have  accredited  religion,  when, 
by  the  help  of  someterriffic  declamations,they 
have  extorted  a  catechumen's  consent ;  this 
is  what  we  could  have  scarcely  believed,  had 
we  not  seen  numberless  examples  of  it.  And 
that  you,  my  brethren,  who  are  a  free  peo- 
ple, you  who  are  spiritual  men,  and  ought 
to  '  judge  all  things,'  1  Cor.  ii.  15,  that  you 
should  at  any  time  submit  to  such  casuists ; 
this  is  what  we  could  have  hardly  credited, 
had  not  experience  affijrded  us  too  many  mor- 
tifying proofs. 

Let  us  not  incorporate  our  fancies  with 
religion.  The  belief  of  a  truth,  without  evi- 
dence, can  render  us  no  more  agreeable  to 
God  than  the  belief  of  a  falsehood.  A  truth, 
received  without  proof,  is,  in  regard  to  us,  a 
kind  of  falsehood.  Yea,  a  truth,  received 
without  evidence,  is  a  never-failing  source 
of  many  errors;  because  a  truth,  received 
without  evidence,  is  founded,  in  regard  to  us, 
only  on  false  principles.  And  if,  by  a  kind 
of  hazard,  in  which  reason  has  no  part,  a 
false  principle  engages  us  to  receive  a  truth 
on  this  occasion,  the  same  principle  will  en- 
gage us  to  receive  an  error  on  another  occa- 
sion. We  must  then  suspend  our  judgments, 
whatever  inclination  we  may  naturally  have 
to  determine  at  once,  in  order  to  save  the  at- 
tention and  labour,  which  a  more  ample  dis- 
cussion of  ti-uth  would  require.  By  this 
mean,  we  shall  not  attain,  indeed,  all  know- 
ledge ;  but  we  shall  prevent  all  errors.  The 
goodness  of  God  tlocs  not  propose  to  enable 


should   sacrificis   precipitan-^y   of  judgment.  I  us  to  know  all  trulh  ;  but  it  proposes  to  give 


Ser.  XIV.] 


THE  PRICE  OF  TRUTH. 


ur 


us  all  needful  help  to  escape  error.  It  is  con- 
formable to  his  goodness,  that  we  should  not 
be  obliged,  by  a  necessity  of  nature,  to  con- 
sent to  error ;  and  the  help  needful  for  the 
avoiding  of  falsehood  he  has  given  us.  Eve- 
ry man  is  entirely  free  to  withhold  his  con- 
sent from  a  subject  which  he  has  not  consi- 
dered in  every  point  of  view. 

4.  The  fourth  sacrifice,  which  truth  de- 
mands, is  that  of  prejudice ;  and  the  fourth 
precept  is  this.  Let  prejudice  yield  to  reason. 
This  precept  needs  explanation.  The  term 
prejudice  is  equivocal.  Sometimes  it  is  em- 
ployed to  signify  a  proof,  which  has  not  a 
full  evidence,  but  which,  however,  has  some 
weight :  so  that  a  great  number  of  preju- 
dices, which,  taken  separately,  could  not  form 
a  demonstration,  taken  together  ought  to  ob- 
tain an  assent.  But,  sometimes  the  word 
prejudice  has  an  odious  meaning,  it  is  put 
for  that  impression,  which  a  circumstance, 
foreign  from  the  proposition,  makes  on  the 
mind  of  him,  who  is  to  determine,  whether 
the  proposition  ought  to  be  received  or  re- 
jected. In  this  sense  we  use  the  word,  when 
we  say  a  man  is  full  of  prejudice,  in  order  to 
describe  that  disposition,  which  makes  him 
give  that  attention  and  authority  to  false 
reasonings,  which  are  due  only  to  solid  argu- 
ments. 

Our  fourth  precept  is  to  be  taken  in  a  dif- 
ferent sense,  according  to  the  different  mean- 
ing which  is  given  to  this  term.  If  the  word 
prejudice  be  taken  in  the  first  sense,  when 
we  require  you  to  make  prejudice  yield  to 
reason,  we  mean,  that  you  should  give  that 
attention,  and  authority,  to  a  presumption,  or 
a  probability,  which  presumptive  or  probable 
evidence  jrequires.  We  mean,  that  demon- 
strative evidence  should  always  prevail  over 
appearances.  The  equity  of  this  precept  is 
self-evident ;  yet,  perhaps,  it  may  not  be  im- 
proper to  show  the  necessity  of  obeying  it,  in 
order  to  engage  our  conduct  the  more  closely 
to  it.  I  said  just  now,  that  men  were  ene- 
mies to  that  labour,  vi^hich  the  finding  out  of 
truth  requires.  Yet  men  love  knowledge. 
From  the  combination  of  these  two  dispo- 
sitions arises  their  propensity  to  prejudice. 
A  man,  who  yields  to  prejudice,  frees  him- 
self from  that  labour,  which  a  search  after 
truth  would  require  ;  and  thus  gratifies  his 
indolence.  He  flatters  himself  he  has  obtain- 
ed truth,  and  so  he  satisfies  his  desire  of 
knowledge.  We  must  guard  against  this 
temptation.  This  is  the  first  sense  of  the 
precept.  Let  prejudice  yield  to  reason. 

When  in  the  second  sense,  which  we  have 
given  to  the  word  prejudice,  we  require  him, 
who  would  be  a  disciple  of  truth,  to  make 
prejudice  yield  to  reason,  we  mean,  that 
whenever  he  examines  a  question,  he  should 
remove  every  thing  that  is  not  connected  with 
it.  Prejudice,  in  our  first  sense,  sometimes 
conducts  to  truth;  hut]prejudice,oftlie  second 
kind,  always  leads  us  from  it.  What  idea 
would  you  form  of  a  man,  who  in  examining 
this  question,  Is  there  a  part  of  the  world 
called  Jlmerica  ?  should  place  anion "■  the 
arguments,  which  determine  him  to  affirm, 
or  to  deny  the  question,  this  consideration  ; 
The  sun  shines  to-day  in  all  its  splendour  ; 
or  this,  The  sun  ia  concealed  behind  thick 


clouds?  Who  docs  not  see,  that  these  middle 
terms,  by  which  the  disputant  endeavours  to 
decide  the  point,  have  no  concern  with  the 
solution  of  the  question  .'  This  example  I 
use  only  for  the  sake  of  conveying  my  mean- 
ing, and  I  do  not  design  by  it  to  guard  you 
against  this  particular  error.  None  of  you, 
in  examining  the  question,  which  we  just 
now  mentioned,  has  ever  regarded,  either 
as  proofs,  or  as  objections,  these  considera- 
tions. The  sun  shines  to-day  in  all  its  splen- 
dour. The  stm  is  hidden  to-day  behind  the 
clouds.  However,  it  is  too  true,  that  in 
questions  of  far  greater  importance,  we  of- 
ten determine  our  opinions  by  reasons,  which 
are  as  foreign  from  the  matter  as  those  just 
now  mentioned.  For  example,  it  is  a  question, 
either  whether  such  a  man  be  an  accurate 
reasoner,  or  whether  he  expresses  a  matter 
clearly,  or  whether  his  evidence  deserves  to 
be  received  or  rejected.  What  can  be  more 
foreign  from  any  of  these  questions,  than 
the  habit  he  wears,  the  number  of  servants 
that  wait  on  him,  the  equipage  he  keeps,  the 
tone  in  which  he  reasons,  the  dogmatical  air 
with  which  he  decides .''  And,  yet,  how  of- 
ten does  a  dogmatical  decision,  a  peculiar 
tone,  a  pompous  equipage,  a  numerous  re- 
tinue, a  certain  habit,  how  often  does  each 
of  these  become  a  motive  to  mankind  to  re- 
ceive the  testimony  of  such  a  man,  and  to 
engage  them  to  resign  their  reason  to  him  .' 
In  like  manner,  a  man  may  understand  all 
history,  ancient  and  modern,  he  may  possess 
all  the  oriental  languages,  he  may  know  the 
customs  of  the  most  remote  and  barbarous 
nations,  and  he  may  be,  all  the  time,  a  bad 
logician:  for  what  relation  is  there  between 
the  knowledge  of  customs,  tongues,  and  his- 
tories, ancient  and  modern,  and  an  accurate 
habit  of  reasoning  .'  And  yet  how  often  docs 
the  idea  of  a  man,  bustling  with  science  of 
this  kind,  impose  on  our  minds  .'  How  often 
have  we  imagined  that  a  man,  who  knew 
what  the  soul  was  called  in  thirty  or  forty 
different  languages,  knew  its  nature,  its  pro- 
perties, and  its  duration,  better  than  he  who 
knew  only  what  it  was  called  in  his  own  mo- 
ther tongue .'  The  term  prejudice  (we  re- 
peat it  again)  which  sometimes  signifies  a 
probability,  is  sometimes  put  for  that  im- 
pression, vi^hich  a  circumstance,  foreign  from 
the  question  under  examination,  makes  on 
the  mind.  When  we  demand  the  sacrifice  of 
prejudice,  in  this  latter  sense,  we  mean  to 
induce  you  to  avoid  all  motives  of  credibility, 
except  those  which  have  some  relation,  near, 
or  remote,  to  the  subject  in  hand. 

This  precept  will  appear  more  important 
to  you,  if  you  apply  it  to  a  particular  sub 
ject.  We  will  mention  a  famous  example, 
that  will  prove  the  necessity  of  sacrificing 
prejudice,  in  both  the  senses  we  have  men- 
tioned. There  is  a  case,  in  which  the  great 
number  of  those  who  adhere  to  a  communion 
form  a  prejudice  in  its  favour.  One  com- 
munion is  embraced  by  a  multitude  of  scho- 
lars, philosophers,  and  fine  genuises  :  ano- 
ther communion  has  but  few  partisans  of 
these  kinds:  hence  arises  a  probability, a  pro- 
sumption,  a  prejudice,  in  favour  of  the  first, 
and  against  the  last  of  these  communities. 
It  is  probable,  that  the  community,   which 


14B 


THE  PRICE  OP  TRUTH. 


[Seb.  XIV. 


has  the  greatest  number  of  fine  geniuses, 
philosophers,  and  scholars,  is  more  rational 
than  that  which  has  the  least.  However,  this 
is  only  a  probability,  this  is  not  a  demonstra- 
tion. The  most  elevated  minds  are  capable 
of  the  greatest  extravagances,  as  the  highest 
saints  are  subject  to  the  lowe.st  falls.  If  you 
can  demonstrate  the  truth  of  that  religion, 
which  the  multitude  of  great  men  condemn, 
the  probability,  which  arises  from  the  multi- 
tude, ought  to  yield  to  demonstration.  Sa- 
crifice prejudice  in  this  first  sense. 

But  there  is  a  case,  in  which  a  great  num- 
ber of  partisans  do  not  form  even  a  probabil- 
ity in  favour  of  the  doctrine  they  espouse. 
For  example,  the  church  of  Rome  perpetu- 
ally urges  the  suffrage  of  the  multitude  in 
its  favour.  And  we  reply,  that  the  multitude 
of  those,  who  adhere  to  the  Roman  church, 
does  not  form  even  a  presumption  in  their  fa- 
vour, and  we  prove  it. 

If  you  affirm  that  a  multitude  forms  a  pro- 
bability in  favour  of  any  doctrine,  it  must 
be  supposed  that  this  multitude  have  examin- 
ed the  doctrine  which  they  profess,  and  pro- 
fess only  what  they  believe.  But  we  must, 
first,  object  against  that  part  of  the  multitude 
which  the  church  of  Rome  boasts  of,  which 
is  composed  of  indolent  members,  who  con- 
tinue in  the  profession  of  their  ancestors  by 
chance,  as  it  were,  and  without  knowing  why. 
We  must  object,  next,  against  an  infinite 
number  of  ignorant  people  in  that  communi- 
ty, who  actually  know  notbing  about  the 
matter.  We  must  object  against  whole  pro- 
vinces, and  kingdoms,  where  it  is  hardly 
known  that  there  is  a  divine  book,  on  which 
the  faith  of  the  church  is  founded.  We 
must  object  against  that  army  of  ecclesias- 
tics, who  are  not  wiser  than  the  common 
people,  on  account  of  their  being  distinguish- 
ed from  them  by  a  particular  habit,  and  who 
waste  their  lives  in  eternal  idleness,  at  least 
in  exercises  which  have  no  relation  to  an  in- 
quiry afler  truth.  We  must  object,  farther, 
against  all  those  zealous  defenders  of  the 
church,  who  are  retained  in  it  by  the  im- 
mense riches  they  possess  there,  who  judge 
of  the  weight  of  an  argument  by  the  advan- 
tages which  it  procures  them,  and  who  ac- 
tually reason  thus:  The  church  in  which 
ministers  are  poor,  is  a  bad  cliurch  ;  that 
which  enriches  them  is  a  good  church  :  but 
this  church  enriches  its  ministers,  and  that 
suffers  them  to  be  poor ;  the  latter,  there- 
fore, is  a  bad  church,  and  the  former  is  the  only 
good  one.  We  must  object,  finally,  against 
all  those  callous  souls,  '  who  hold  the  truth 
in  unrighteousness,'  Rom.  i.  18,  and  who  op- 
pose it  only  in  a  party  spirit.  If  you  pursue 
this  method,  you  will  perceive,  that  the  mul- 
titude, which  alarmed  you,  will  be  quickly 
diminished  ;  and  that  this  argument,  so  often 
repeated  by  the  members  of  the  church  of 
Rome,  does  not  form  even  a  probability  in  fa- 
vour of  that  communion. 

5.  The  fifth  sacrifice,  which  trvfh  demands, 
is  that  of  obstinacy ;  and  the  fifth  precept 
which  you  must  obey,  if  you  mean  to  attain 
it,  is  this,  Be  teachable.  This  maxim  is  self- 
evident.  What  can  be  more  irrational,  than 
a  disposition  to  defend  a  proposition,  only 
because  we  have  had  the  rashness  to  advance 


it,  and  to  choose  to  heap  up  a  number  of  ab- 
surdities rather  than  to  relinquish  one,  which 
had  escaped  without  reflection  or  design ' 
What  can  be  more  absurd,  than  that  disposi- 
tion of  mind,  which  makes  us  prefer  falling 
a  thousand  times  into  falsehood,  before  say- 
ing,,for  once,  I  mistake.''  Had  we  some 
knowledge  of  mankind,  were  we  to  form  a 
system  of  morality  on  metaphysical  ideas,  it 
would  seem  needless  to  prescribe  docility, 
and  one  would  think  every  body  would  be 
naturally  inclined  to  practise  this  virtue.  But 
what  seems  useless  in  speculation  is  very  of- 
ten essential  in  practice.  Let  us  guard 
against  obstinacy.  Let  us  always  consider 
that  the  noblest  victory,  which  we  obtain 
over  ourselves.  Let  each  of  us  say,  when 
truth  requires  it,  I  have  erred,  I  consecrate 
the  remainder  of  my  life  to  publish  that  truth, 
which  I  have  hitherto  misunderstood,  and 
which  I  opposed  only  because  I  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  misunderstand  it. 

G.  Truth  requires  the  sacrifice  of  curiosity, 
and  the  sixth  precept,  which  is  proposed  to 
us,  is.  Restrain  your  aridity  of  knoicing. 
This  is  a  difficult  sacrifice,  the  precept  is 
even  mortifying.  Intelligence  is  one  of  the 
noblest  prerogatives  of  man.  The  desire  of 
knowledge  is  one  of  the  most  natural  desires. 
We  do  not,  therefore,  condemn  it,  as  bad  in 
itself:  but  we  wish  to  convince  you,  that,  to 
give  an  indiscreet  scope  to  it,  instead  of  as- 
sisting in  the  attainment  of  truth,  is  to 
abandon  the  path  that  leads  to  it ;  and  by  as- 
piring to  the  knowledge  of  objects  above  our 
reach,  and  which  would  be  useless  to  us  du- 
ring our  abode  in  this  world,  and  destructive 
of  the  end  for  which  God  has  placed  us  here, 
we  neglect  others  that  may  be  discovered, 
and  which  have  a  special  relation  to  that  end. 
We  ought  then  to  sacrifice  curiosity,  to  re- 
frain from  an  insatiable  desire  of  knowing' 
every  thing,  and  to  persuade  ourselves,  that 
some  truths,  which  are  often  the  objects  of 
our  speculations,  are  beyond  the  attainment 
of  finite  minds,  and,  particularly,  of  those 
finite  minds,  on  which  God  has  imposed  tho 
necessity  of  studying  other  truths,  and  of 
practising  other  duties. 

7.  But,  of  all  the  sacrifices  which  truth  re- 
quires, that  of  the  passions  is  the  most  indis- 
pensable. We  have  proved  this  on  another 
occasion,"  and  we  only  mention  it  to-day. 

Such  are  tlie  sacrifices  which  truth  requires 
of  us,  such  are  the  precepts' which  we  must 
practise  to  obtain  it,  and  the  explication  of 
these  may  account  for  some  sad  phenomena. 
Why  are  so  many  people  deceived  .''  Why 
do  so  many  embrace  the  grossest  errors .-' 
Why  do  so  man}"  people  admit  the  most  ab- 
surd propositions  as  if  they  were  demonstra- 
tions .'  Why,  in  one  word,  are  most  men 
such  bad  reasoners.'  It  is  because  rectitude 
of  thought  cannot  be  acquired  without  pains 
and  labour  ;  it  is  because  truth  is  put  up  at  a 
price  ;  it  is  because  it  costs  a  good  deal  to 
attain  it,  and  becaiise  few  people  value  it  so 
as  to  acquire  it  by  making  the  sacrifices 
which,  we  have  said,  the  truth  demands. 

II.  Let  us  proceed  to  inquire  the  worth  of 
truth ;  for,  however  great  tho  sacrifices  may 


*  Serm,  Tom.  II.  Ser.  neuvieme.    Sur  les  pasdong. 


See.  XIV.] 


THE  PRICE  OF  TRUTH. 


149 


be,  which  the  attainment  of  truth  requires, 
they  bear  no  proportion  to  the  advantages 
which  truth  procures  to  its  adiierents.  1. 
Truth  will  open  to  you  an  infinite  source  of 
pleasure.  2.  It  will  fit  you  for  the  various 
employments  to  which  you  may  be  called  in 
society.  3.  It  will  free  you  from  many  dis- 
agreeable doubts  about  religion.  4.  It  will 
render  j'ou  intrepid  at  the  approach  of  death. 
The  most  cursory  inspection  of  these  four 
objects  will  be  sufficient  to  convince  you,  that, 
at  whatever  price  God  has  put  up  triith 
you  cannot  purchase  it  too  dearly.  Buy  the 
truth. 

1.  Truth  will  open  to  you  an  infinite  source 
of  pleasure.  The  pleasure  of  knowledge  is 
infinitely  superior  to  the  pleasures  of  sense, 
and  to  those  which  are  excited  by  the  turbu- 
lent passions  of  the  heart.  If  the  knowledge 
of  truth  be  exquisitely  pleasing  when  human 
sciences  are  the  objects  of  it,  what  delight  is 
it  not  attended  with,  when  the  science  of 
salvation  is  in  view  .'' 

My  brethren,  forgive  me,  if  I  say,  the 
greater  part  of  you  are  not  capable  of  enter- 
ing into  these  reflections.  As  you  usually 
consider  religion  only  in  a  vague  and  super- 
ficial manner  ;  as  you  know  neither  the  beau- 
ty nor  the  imjiortance  of  it ;  as  you  see  it 
neither  in  its  principles  nor  in  its  consequen- 
ces, so  it  is  a  pain  to  you  to  confine  your- 
selves to  the  study  of  it.  Reading  tires  you  ; 
meditation  fatigues  you  ;  a  sermon  of  an  hour 
wearies  you  quite  out ;  and,  judging  of  others 
by  yourselves,  you  consider  a  man  who  em- 
ploys himself  silently  in  the  closet  to  study 
religion,  a  man,  whose  soul  is  in  an  ecstacy 
when  he  increases  his  knowledge,  and  refines 
liis  understanding  ;  you  consider  him  as  a  me- 
lancholy kind  of  man,  whose  brain  is  turned, 
and  whose  imagination  is  become  wild 
through  some  bodily  disorder.  To  study,  to 
learn,  to  discover:  in  your  opinions,  what 
pitiable  pursuits !  The  elucidation  of  a  pe- 
riod !  The  cause  of  a  phenomenon  !  The 
arrangement  of  a  system  !  There  is  far  more 
greatness  of  soul  in  the  design  of  a  courtier, 
who,  after  he  has  languislicd  many  hours  in 
the  antichamber  of  a  prince,  at  length  ob- 
tains one  glance  of  the  prince's  eye.  There 
is  much  more  solidity  in  the  projects  of  a 
gamester,  who  proposes,'  in  an  instant  to 
raise  his  fortune  on  the  ruin  of  that  of  his 
neighbour.  There  is  much  more  reality  in 
the  speculations  of  a  merchant,  who  discov- 
ers the  worth  of  this  thing,  and  tiie  value  of 
that ;  who  taxes,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak 
so,  heaven,  and  carlh,  and  sea,  all  nature, 
and  each  of  its  component  parts. 

But  you  deceive  yourselves  grossly.  The 
study  of  rchgion,  as  we  apply  to  it  in  our 
closets,  is  very  different  from  that  which  you 
exercise  under  a  sermon,  sometimes  not  well 
preached,  and  often  badly  heard;  and  from 
that  which  you  exercise  in  the  hasty  reading 
of  a  pious  book.  As  wc  meditate,  wo  learn  ; 
and  as  we  learn,  the  desire  of  hsarning  in- 
creases. In  our  studies,  we  consider  religion 
in  every  point  of  light.  There,  we  compare 
it  with  tiie  dictates  of  conscience,  with  the 
desires  of  the  human  heart,  and  with  the  ge- 
neral concert  of  all  creatures.  There,  we  ad- 
mire to  see  the  God  of  nature  in  harmony 


with  the  God  of  religion  ;  or  rather,  we  sea 
religion  is  the  renovation  and  embellishment 
of  nature.  There,  we  compare  author  with 
author,  economy  with  economy,  prophecy 
with  event,  event  with  prophecy.  There, 
we  are  delighted  to  find,  that,  notwithstand- 
ing diversities  of  times,  places,  conditions, 
and  characters,  the  sacred  authors  harmon- 
ize, and  prove  themselves  animated  by  one 
spirit :  a  promise  made  to  Adanr  is  repeated 
to  Abraham,  confirmed  by  Moses,  published 
by  the  prophets,  and  accomplished  by  Jesus 
Christ.  There,  we  consider  relig'ion  as  an 
assemblage  of  truths,  which  afibrd  one  ano- 
ther a  mutual  support ;  and,  when  we  make 
some  new  discovery,  when  we  meet  with 
some  proof,  of  which  we  had  been  ignorant 
before,  we  are  involved  in  pleasures,  far  more 
exquisite  than  those  which  you  derive  from 
all  your  games,  from  all  your  amusements, 
from  all  the  dissipations,  which  consume  your 
lives.  We  enjoy  a  satisfaction  in  advancing 
in  this  delightful  path,  infinitely  greater  than 
that  which  you  taste,  when  your  ambition, 
or  your  avarice,  is  gratified  :  we  look,  like 
the  cherubim,  to  the  mystical  ark,  and  de- 
sire thoroughly  to  know  all  its  contents,  I 
Pet.  i.  12. 

A  Christian,  who  understands  how  to  satiate 
his  soul  with  these  sublime  objects,  can  al- 
ways derive  pleasure  from  its  tbuntain.  '  If 
ye  continue  in  my  word,'  said  the  Saviour  of 
the  world,  '  yc  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the 
truth  shall  make  j^ou  free,'  John  viii.  31,  32. 
This  saying  is  true  in  many  respects,  and 
perhaps  it  may,  not  improperly,  be  applied 
to  our  subject.  A  man,  who  has  no  relish 
for  truth,  is  a  slave,  leisure  time  is  a  burden 
to  him.  He  must  crawl  to  every  inferior  crea- 
ture, prostrate  himself  before  it,  and  humbly 
entreat  it  to  free  him  from  that  listlessness 
which  dissolves  and  destroys  him;  and  he 
must  by  all  means  avoid  the  sight  of  himself, 
which  would  be  intolerable  to  him.  But  a 
Christian,  who  knows  the  truth,  and  loves  it, 
and  who  endeavours  to  make  daily  advances 
in  it,  is  delivered  from  this  slavery :  '  The 
truth  hath  made  him  free.'  In  retirement, 
in  his  closet,  yea,  in  a  desert,  his  meditation 
supplies  the  j)lacc  of  the  whole  world,  and 
of  all  its  delights. 

2.  TruUi  will  fit  you  for  the  employments 
to  which  you  are  called  in  society.  Religion, 
and  Solomon,  the  herald  of  it,  had  certainly  a 
view  more  noble  and  sublime  than  that  of 
preparing  us  for  the  exercise  of  those  arts 
which  employ  us  in  the  world.  Yet,  the  ad- 
vantages of  truth  are  not  confined  to  religion. 
A  man,  who  has  cultivated  his  mind,  will  dis- 
tinguish himself  in  every  post  in  which  Pro- 
vidence may  place  him.  An  irrational,  so- 
phistical turn  of  mind,  incapacitates  all  who 
do  not  endeavour  to  correct  it.  Rectitude  of 
thought,  and  accuracy  of  reasoning,  are  ne- 
cessary every  where.  How  needful  are  they 
in  apohlical  conference.''  What  can  be  more 
intolerable  than  the  harangues  of  those  sena- 
tors, who,  wiiiie  they  should  be  consulting 
measures  for  the  relieving  of  public  calami- 
ties, never  understand  the  state  of  a  question, 
nor  ever  come  nigh  the  subject  of  delibera- 
tion ;  but  employ  thai  time  in  vain  declama- 
tions, foreioai  fronr  the  matter,  which  ought 


ISO 


THE  PRICE  OF  TRUTH. 


[Ser.  XIV. 


to  be  devoted  to  the  discussion  of  a  particular 
point,  on  wliich  tlie  fate  of  a  kingdom  de- 
pends ?  How  needful  is  such  a  rectitude  of 
thought  in  a  council  of  war !  What,  pray,  is  a 
general,  destitute  of  tliis  ?  He  is  an  arrn  with- 
out a  head  :  he  is  a  madman,  who  may  mow 
down  ranks  on  his  right  hand,  and  cover  the 
field  with  carnage  on  the  left;  but  who  will  sink 
under  the  weight  of  his  own  valour,  and,  for 
want  of  discernment,  will  render  his  courage 
often  a  burden,  and  sometimes  a  ruin  to  his 
country.  This  article  of  my  discourse  ad- 
dresses itself  principally  to  you  who  are 
heads  of  families.  It  is  natural  to  parents  to 
wish  to  see  their  children  attain  the  most 
eminent  posts  in  society.  If  this  desire  be 
innocent,  it  will  engage  you  to  educate  your 
children  in  a  manner  suitable  to  their  desti- 
nation. Cultivate  their  reason,  regard  that 
as  the  most  necessary  science,  which  forms 
their  judgments,  and  which  renders  their 
reasoning  powers  exact. 

This  is  particularly  necessary  to  those 
whom  God  calls  to  officiate  in  the  church. 
What  can  be  more  unwortliy  of  a  mini.ster  of 
truth,  than  a  sophistical  turn  of  mind  ?  What 
more  likely  method  to  destroy  religion,  than 
to  establish  truth  on  arguments  which  would 
establish  falsehood?  What  can  be  more  un- 
reasonable, than  that  kind  of  logic  which 
serves  to  reason  with,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to 
speak  so,  only  from  hand  to  mouth  ;  which 
pulls  down  with  one  hand  what  it  builds  with 
the  other  ;  which  abandons,  in  disputing  with 
adversaries  of  one  kind,  the  principles  it  had 
established,  in  disputing  with  adversaries  of 
another  kindi"  What  sad  effects  does  this 
method,  too  often  practised  by  those  who 
ought  to  abhor  it,  produce  in  the  church  ? 
Are  we  called  to  oppose  teachers,  who  carry 
the  free  agency  of  man  beyond  its  due 
bounds  ?  Man  is  made  a  trunk,  a  stone,  a  be- 
ing destitute  of  intelligence  and  will.  Are 
we  called  to  oppose  people,  who,  under  pre- 
tence of  defending  the  perfections  of  God, 
carry  the  slavery  of  man  beyond  its  due 
bounds  ?  Man  is  made  a  seraphical  intelli- 
gence ;  the  properties  of  disembodied  spirits, 
are  attributed  to  him ;  he  is  represented  ca- 
pable of  elevating  his  meditations  to  the  higli- 
est  heavens,  and  of  attaining  the  perfections 
of  angels  and  cherubims.  Are  we  called  to 
Oppose  adversaries,  who  carry  the  doctrine  of 
good  works  too  far?  The  necessity  of  them 
IS  invalidated  ;  they  are  said  to  be  suited  to 
the  condition  of  a  Christian,  but  they  are 
not  made  essential  to  Christianity  ;  the  es- 
sence of  faith  is  made  to  consist  in  a  bare  de- 
sire of  being  saved,  or,  if  you  will,  of  being 
sanctified,  a  desire,  into  which  enters,  neillier 
that  knowledge  of  the  heart,  nor  tluit  denial 
of  self,  nor  that  mortification  of  the  passions, 
without  which  every  desire  of  being  sanctified 
is  nothing  but  an  artifice  or  corruption,  which 
turns  over  a  work  to  God  that  he  has  impos- 
ed on  man.  Are  we  called  to  oppose  people, 
who  enervate  the  necessity  of  good  works  ? 
The  Christian  vocation  is  made  to  consist  in 
impracticable  exercises,  in  a  degree  of  holiness 
inaccessible  to  frail  men.  The  whole  genius 
of  religion,  and  of  all  its  ordinances,  is  des- 
troyed ;   the  table  of  the  Lord  is  surrounded 


with  devils,  and  fires,  and  flames,  and  is  re- 
presented rather  as  a  tribunal  where  God  ex- 
ercises his  vengeance ;  as  a  mount  Ebal, 
from  whence  he  cries,  '  Carsed  be  the  -man. 
Cursed  be  the  man  ;'  than  as  a  throne  of 
grace,  to  which  he  invites  penitent  sinners, 
and  imparts  to  them  all  the  riches  of  his  love. 
Are  we  called  to  oppose  men,  who  would 
make  God  the  author  of  sin,  and  who,  from 
the  punishments,  which  he  inflicts  on  sinners, 
derive  consequences  injurious  to  his  goodness 
and  mercy  ?  All  the  reiterated  declarations 
of  Scripture  are  carefully  collected,  all  the 
tender  expostulations,  all  the  attracting  invi- 
tations, which  demonstrate  that  man  is  the 
author  of  his  own  destruction,  and  that '  God 
will  have  all  men  to  be  saved,  and  to  come  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth,'  1  Tim.ii.  4.  Are 
we  called  to  resist  adversaries,  who  weaken 
the  empire  of  God  over  his  creatures  ?  God 
is  made,  I  do  not  say  an  ine.s:orable  master,  I 
do  not  say  a  severe  king  ;  but,  O  horrid  !  he 
is  made  a  tyrant,  and  worse  than  a  tyrjint. 
It  has  been  seriously  affirmed  that  he  formed 
a  great  part  of  mankind  with  the  barbarous 
design  of  punishing  them  for  ever  and  ever, 
in  order  to  have  the  cruel  pleasure  of  showing 
how  far  his  avenging  justice  and  his  flaming 
anger  can  go.  It  has  been  affirmed,  that 
the  decree,  pronounced  against  the  repro- 
bate before  his  birth,  not  only  determines 
him  to  punishment  after  the  commission  of 
sin,  but  infallibly  inclines  him  to  sin  ;  because 
that  is  necessary  to  the  manifestation  of  di- 
vine justice,  and  to  the  felicity  of  the  elect ; 
who  will  be  much  happier  in  heaven,  if  there 
be  thousands  and  millions  of  miserable  souls 
in  the  flames  of  hell,  than  if  all  mankind 
should  enjoy  the  felicity  of  paradise. 

O,  my  God  !  if  any  among  us  be  capable 
of  forming  ideas  so  injurious  to  thy  perfec- 
tions, impute  it  not  to  the  whole  society  of 
Christians ;  and  let  not  all  our  churches 
suffer  for  the  irregularities  of  some  of  our 
members !  One  single  altar  prepared  for 
idols,  one  single  act  of  idolatry,  was  former- 
ly sufficient  to  provoke  thy  displeasure. 
Jealous  of  thy  glory,  thou  didst  inflict  on  the 
republic  of  Israel  thy  most  terrible  chastise- 
ments, wlien  they  associated  false  gods  with 
thee.  Hence  those  dreadful  calamities,  hence 
those  eternal  banishments,  hence  heaven  and 
earth  employed  to  punish  the  guilty.  But  if 
Jews  experienced  such  a  rigorous  treatment 
for  attributing  to  false  gods  the  perfections  of 
the  true  God,  what  punishments  will  not  you 
sufl'er,  Christians,  if,  in  spite  of  the  light  of 
the  gospel,  which  shines  around  you,  you 
ta.x  tlie  true  God  with  the  vices  of  false  gods; 
if  by  a  theology  unworthy  of  the  name,  yon 
attribute  to  a  holy  God  the  eiuelty,  the  in- 
justice and  the  falsehood,  of  those  idols  to 
which  corrupt  passions  alone  gave  a  being, 
as  well  as  attributes  agreeable  to  their  own 
abominable  wishes  ?  That  disposition  of  mind, 
which  conducts  to  universal  truth,  frees  a 
man  from  these  contradictions,  and  har- 
monizes the  pastor  and  the  teacher  with  him- 
self 

3.  Truth  will  deliver  you  from  disagreeable 
doubts  about  religion.  The  state  of  a  mind, 
which  is  '  carried  about  with  every  wind  of 


Ser.  XIV.] 


THE  PRICE  OF  TRUTH. 


151 


doctrine,'  Eph.  iv.  14,  to  use  an  expression  of 
St.  Paul,  is  a  violent  state ;  and  it  is  very  dis- 
agreeable, in  such  interesting  subjects  as 
those  of  religion,  to  doubt  vrhether  one  be  in 
the  path  of  truth,  or  in  the  road  of  error  ; 
whether  the  worship,  that  one  renders  to 
God,  be  acceptable,  or  odious,  to  liim;  whe- 
ther the  fatigues,  and  sufferings,  tliat  are 
endured  for  religion,  be  punishments  of  one's 
folly,  or  preparations  for  the  reward  of  vir- 
tue. 

But  if  this  state  of  mind  be  violent,  it  is 
difficult  to  free  one's  self  from  it.  There  are 
but  two  sorts  of  men,  who  are  free  from  the 
disquietudes  of  this  state :  they  who  live  with- 
out reflection,  and  they,  who  have  seriously 
studied  religion  ;  they  are  the  only  people 
who  are  free  from  doubts. 

We  see  almost  an  innumerable  variety  of 
sects,  which  are  diametrically  opposite  to 
one  another.  How  can  we  flatter  ourselves, 
that  we  belong  to  the  right  community,  un- 
less we  have  profoundly  applied  ourselves  to 
distinguish  truth  from  falsehood  .'' 

We  hear  the  partisans  of  these  different 
religions  anathematize  and  condemn  one 
another.  How  is  it,  that  we  are  not  afraid  of 
their  denunciations  of  wrath  .'' 

We  cannot  doubt  that,  among  them,  who 
embrace  systems  opj>osite  to  ours,  there  is  a 
great  number,  who  have  more  knowledge, 
more  erudition,  more  genius,  more  penetra- 
tion, than  we.  How  is  it  that  we  do  not  fear, 
that  these  adversaries,  who  have  had  better 
opportunities  of  knowing  the  truth  than  we, 
actually  do  know  it  better ;  and  that  they 
have  employed  more  time  to  study  it,  and 
have  made  a  greater  progress  in  it  ^ 

We  acknowledge,  that  there  are,  in  the  re- 
ligion we  profess,  difficulties  which  we  are 
not  able  to  solve ;  bottomless  depths,  mys- 
teries, which  are  not  only  above  our  reason, 
but  which  seem  opposite  to  it.  How  is  it, 
thai  we  are  not  stumbled  at  these  difficulties .' 
How  is  it,  that  we  have  no  doubt  of  the  truth 
of  a  religion,  which  is,  in  part,  concealed 
under  impenetrable  veils  ? 

We  are  obliged  to  own,  that  prejudices  of 
birth,  and  education,  are  usually  very  influ- 
ential over  our  minds.  Moreover,  we  ought 
to  remember,  that  nothing  was  so  carefully 
inculcated  on  our  infant  minds  as  the  articles 
of  our  faith.  How  can  we  demonstrate,  that 
these  articles  belong  to  the  class  of  demon- 
strative truths,  and  not  to  that  of  the  preju- 
dices of  education .'' 

We  know,  by  sad  experience,  that  we  have 
often  admitted  erroneous  propositions  for  in- 
contestable principles ;  and  that  wlien  wc 
have  thought  ourselves  in  possession  of  de- 
monstration, we  have  found  ourselves  hardly 
in  possession  of  proliability.  How  is  it,  that 
we  do  not  distrust  the  judgments  of  minds  so 
subject  to  illusion,  and  which  have  been  so 
often  deceived  ? 

From  these  different  reflections  arises  a 
mixture  of  light  and  darkness,  a  contrast  of 
certainty  and  doubt,  infidelity  and  faith, 
skepticism  and  assurance,  which  makes  one 
of  the  most  dreadful  states  in  which  an  intel- 
ligent soul  can  be.  If  men  are  not  a  con- 
stant prey  to  the  gloomy  thoughts  that  ac- 
company this  state,  it  is  because  sensual  ob- 


jects fill  the  whole  capacity  of  their  souls : 
but  there  are  certain  moments  of  reflection 
and  self-examination,  in  which  reason  will 
adopt  these  distressing  thoughts,  and  oblige 
us  to  suffer  all  their  exquisite  pain. 

A  man,  who  is  arrived  at  the  knowledge  of 
the  truth,  a  man,  who  has  made  all  the  sacri- 
fices necessary  to  arrive  at  it,  is  superior  to 
these  doubts :  not  only  because  truth  has  cer- 
tain characters,  which  distinguish  it  from 
falsehood,  certain  rays  of  light,  which  strike 
the  eye,  and  which  it  is  impossible  to  mistake  ; 
but  also  because  it  is  not  possible,  that  God 
should  leave  those  men  in  capital  errors, 
whom  he  has  enabled  to  make  such  grand 
sacrifices  to  «rw«A.  If  he  do  not  discover  to 
them  at  first  all  that  may  seem  fundamental 
in  religion,  he  will  communicate  to  them  all 
that  is  fundamental  in  effect.  He  will  bear 
with  them,if  they  embrace  some  circumstan- 
tial errors,  into  which  they  fall  only  through 
a  frailty  inseparable  from  human  nature. 

4.  Finally,  consider  the  value  of  truth  in  re- 
gard to  the  calm  which  it  procures  on  a 
death-bed.  Truth  will  render  you  intrepid 
at  the  sight  of  death.  Cato  of  Utica,  it  is 
said,  resolved  to  die,  and  not  being  able  to 
survive  the  liberty  of  Rome,  and  the  glory 
of  Pompey,  desired,  above  all  things,  to  con- 
vince himself  of  the  truth  of  a  future  state. 
Although  he  had  meditated  on  this  importaiit 
subject  throughout  the  whole  course  of  his 
life,  yet  he  thought  it  was  necessary  to  re- 
examine it  at  the  approach  of  his  death. 
For  this  purpose,  he  withdrew  from  society, 
he  sought  a  solitary  retreat,  he  read  Plato's 
book  on  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  studied 
the  proofs  with  attention,  and  convinced  of 
this  grand  truth,  in  tranquillity  he  died. 
Methinksl  hear  him  answering,  persuaded  of 
his  immortality,  all  the  reasonings  that  urge 
him  to  continue  in  life.  If  Cato  had  obtain- 
ed only  uncertain  conjectures  on  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul,  he  would  have  died  with 
regret ;  if  Cato  had  known  no  other  world, 
he  would  have  discovered  his  weakness  in 
quitting  this.  But  Plato  gave  Cato  satisfac- 
tion. Cato  was  persuaded  of  another  life. 
The  sword  with  which  he  destroyed  his  natu- 
ral life,  could  not  touch  his  immortal  soul. 
The  soul  of  Cato  saw  another  Rome,  another 
republic,  in  whicli  tyranny  should  be  no 
more  on  the  throne,  in  which  Pompey  would 
be  defeated,  and  Cesar  would  triumph  no 
more.* 

How  pleasing  is  the  sight  of  a  heathen, 
persuading  himself  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul  by  the  bare  light  of  reason  !  And  how 
painful  is  the  remembrance  of  his  staining 
ills  reflections  with  suicide  !  But  I  find  in 
the  firmness,  which  resulted  from  his  medita- 
tions, a  motive  to  obey  the  precepts  of  the 
Wise  Man  in  the  text.  While  the  soul  floats 
in  uncertainty,  while  it  hovers  between  light 
and  darkness,  persuasion  and  doubt ;  while 
it  has  only  psesumptions  and  probabilities  in 
favour  of  religion ;  it  will  find  it  impossible 
to  view  death  without  terror :  but,  an  enlight- 
ened, established  Christian,  finds  in  his  reli- 
gion a  sure  refuge  against  all  his  fears. 

If  a  pagan  Cato  defied  death,  what  can- 

+  Plutarch  M.  Cato  Min. 


152 


THE  ENEMIES  AND  THE 


[Ser,  XV. 


not  a  Christian  Cato  do  ?  If  a  disciple  of 
Plato  could  piorco  through  the  clouds,  which 
hid  futurity  from  liim,  wliat  cannot  a  disci- 
ple of  Jesus  Christ  do  ?  If  a  few  proofs,  the 
dictates  of  unassisted  reason,  calmed  the 
agitations  of  Cato ;  what  cannot  all  the  lu- 


minous proofs,  all  the  glorious  demonstra- 
tions do,  which  ascertain  the  evidence  of  ano- 
tiier  life  ?  God  grant  we  may  know  the  truth 
by  our  own  experiences  !  To  him  be  honour 
and  glory  for  ever.     Amen. 


SERMON    XV. 


THE   ENEMIES  AND  THE  ARMS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 
PREACHED  ON  EASTER  DAY. 


Ephesians   vi.    11 — 13. 

Put  on  the  li'liole  armotir  of  God,  thai  ye  may  he.  able  (o  stand  again&t  t/ic 
tmlcs  of  /he  devil.  For  toe  tvrcslk  not  against  Jlcsh  and  blood,  but  against 
principalilicH,  against  poioers,  against  the  rnlcrs  of  the  darkness  of  this 
JJ'orld  ;  against  spiritual  zviekcdness  in  high  places.  TVherefore  take  imto 
yon  the  ivhole  arvumr  of  God,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  ivithstand  in  the 
evil  day,  and,  having  done  all,  to  stand. 


It  is  a  very  remarkable  circumstance  of 
the  life  of  Jesus  Christ,  my  brethren,  that 
while  ho  was  performing  the  most  public  act 
of  his  devotedncss  to  the  will  of  God,  and 
while  God  was  giving  the  most  glorious 
proofs  of  his  approbation  of  him,  Satan  at- 
tacked him  with  his  most  violent  assaults. 
Jesus  Clirist,  having  spent  thirty  years  in 
meditation  and  retirement,  preparatory  to 
the  important  ministry  for  whicii  he  came 
into  the  world,  had  just  entered  on  the  func- 
tions of  it.  He  had  consecrated  himself  to 
God  by  baptism  ;  the  Holy  Spirit  had  de- 
scended on  him  in  a  visible  form  ;  a  heavenly 
voice  had  proclaimed  in  the  air,  '  This  is  my 
beloved  Son  with  whom  I  am  well  pleased," 
Matt.  iii.  17,  and  ho  was  going  to  meditate 
forty  days  and  nights  on  the  engagements  on 
which  he  had  entered,  and  which  he  intend- 
ed to  fulfil.  These  circumstances,  so  proper, 
in  all  aj)pcarar.ce,  to  prevent  the  approach  of 
Satan,  are  precisely  those,  of  which  ho  avail- 
ed himself  to  thwart  the  design  of  salvation, 
by  endeavouring  to  produce  rebellious  senti- 
ments in  the  Saviour's  mind. 

My  brethren,  the  conduct  of  this  wicked 
spirit  to  '  the  autlior  and  finisher  of  our  faith,' 
Heb.  xii.  2.  is  a  pattern  of  his  conduct  to  all 
them  who  figlit  under  his  banners.  Never 
does  this  enemy  of  our  salvation  more  furi- 
ously attack  us,  than  when  we  seem  to  be 
most  sure  of  victory.  You,  my  brethren,  will 
experience  Jiis  assaults  as  well  as  Jesus  Christ 
did.  Would  to  God,  wc  could  assure  our- 
selves, tliat  it  would  be  glorious  to  you,  as  it 
was  to  the  divine  Redeemer !  Providence 
unites  to-day  tlic  two  festivals  of  Easter,  and 
the  Lords  Supj)er.  In  keci)ing  Ihe  first,  we 
have  celebrated  the  anniversary  of  an  event, 
witliout  which  '  our  preaching  is  vain,  your 
faith  is  vain,  and  ye  are  yet  in  your  sins,'  1 


Cor.  XV.  14.  17.  I  mean  the  resurrection  of 
the  Saviour  of  the  world.  In  celebrating  tho 
second^  you  have  renewed  your  professions 
of  fidelity  to  that  Jesus,  wlio  was  declared, 
with  so  much  glory,  '  to  be  tlie'  Son  of  God, 
by  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,'  Rom.  i.  4. 
It  is  precisely  in  these  circumstances,  that 
Satan  renews  his  efForf  s  to  obscure  the  eviden- 
ces of  your  faith,  and  to  weaken  your  fidel- 
ity to  Christ.  In  these  circumstances  .also, 
we  douljle  our  efforts  to  enable  you  to  defeat 
his  assaults,  in  whicli,  alas!  many  of  us  choose 
rather  to  yield  than  to  conquer.  The 
strengthening  of  you  is  our  design ;  my  dear 
brethren,  assist  us  in  it. 

And  lliou,  O  great  God,  who  called  us  to 
fight  with  formidable  enemies,  leave  us  not  to 
our  own  weakness  :  '  teach  our  hands  to  war, 
and  our  fingers  to  fight,'  Ps.  cxlvi.  1.  Cause 
us  '  always  to  triumph  in  Christ,'  2  Cor.  ii. 
14.  '■  Make  us  more  than  conquerors  through 
him  that  loved  us,'  Rom.  viii.  37.  Our  ene- 
mies are  thine  :  '  arise,  O  God.  let  thine  ene- 
mies be  scattered,  let  them  that  hate  thee 
flee  before  thee  .""     Amen.  Ps.  Ixviii.  1. 

All  is  metaphorical  in  the  words  of  my  text. 
St.  Paul  rei)resents  the  temptations  of  a 
Christian  under  the  image  of  a  combat,  par- 
ticularly of  a  wrestling.  In  ordinary  com- 
bats there  is  some  proportion  between  the 
combatants  ;  but  in  this,*  which  engages  tlie 
Clu-istian,  there  is  no  proportion  at  all.  A 
Cluistian,  who  may  be  said  to  be,  more  pro- 
perly than  his  Rcdcemor,  '  despised  and  rc- 
iected  of  men,'  Isa.  liii.  o,  a  man  who  '  is  tho 
iiltli  of  the  world,  and  tlie  ofiscouring  of  all 
things,'  1  Cor.  iv.  1^,  is  called  to  resist,  not 
o\\\\'  Jlcsh  (iikJ  blood,  feeble  men  like  himself; 
but  men  before  wliom  imagination  prostrates 
itself;  men,  of  whom  the  Holy  Spirit  says, 
'  Ye  are  gods,"  Ps.  Ixxxii.  6,  that  is,  poten- 


Ser.  XV.] 


ARMS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


153 


tat6s  and  kings.  '  Wo  wrestle  not  against 
flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principalities, 
against  powers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  dark- 
ness of  this  world.' 

Moreover,  a  Christian,  whatever  degree  of 
light  and  knowledge  grace  has  bestowed  on 
him,  whatever  degree  of  steadiness  and  re- 
solution he  has  acquired  in  Christianity,  al- 
ways continues  a  man,  who  is  called  to  resist 
a  superior  order  of  intelligences,  whose  pow- 
er we  cannot  exactly  tell,  but  who,  the  Scrip- 
ture assures  us,  can,  in  some  circumstances, 
raise  tempests,  infect  the  air,  and  disorder  all 
the  elements ;  I  mean  devils.  '  We  wrestle 
against  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places.' 

As  St.  Paul  represents  the  temptations  of 
a  Christian  under  the  notion  of  a  loar,  so  he 
represents  the  dispositions,  that  are  neces- 
sary to  overcome  thorn,  under  the  idea  of  ar- 
mour. In  the  words,  which  follow  tlie  text, 
he  carries  the  metaphor  farther  than  the  ge- 
nius of  our  language  will  allow.  He  gives  the 
Christian  a  mUitary'hclt,  and  shoes,  a  helmet, 
ft  stcord,  a  shield,  a  buckler,  with  which  he 
resists  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked.  But 
I  cannot  discuss  all  these  articles  without  di- 
verting this  exercise  from  its  chief  design. 
By  laying  aside  the  figurative  language  of 
the  apostle,  and  by  reducing  the  figures  to 
truth,  I  reduce  the  temptations,  with  which 
the  devil  and  his  angels  attack  the  Christian, 
to  two  general  ideas.  The  first  are  sophisms, 
to  seduce  him  from  the  evidence  oi  truth  ;  and 
the  second  are  inducements,  to  make  him  de- 
sert the  dominion  of  virtue.  Tlie  Christian 
is  able  to  overcome  these  two  kinds  of  tempta- 
tions. The  Christian  remains  victorious  af- 
ter a  war,  which  seems  at  first  so  very  une- 
qual. This  is  precisely  the  meaning  of  the 
text :  '  We  wrestle  not  against  flesh  and 
blood,  but  against  principalities,  against  pow- 
ers, against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this 
world,  against  spiritual  wickedness  in  high 
places.  Wherefore  take  unto  you  the  whole 
armour  of  God,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  with- 
stand in  the  evil  day,  and  having  done  all,  to 
stand.' 

1.  The  first  artifices  of  Satan  are  intended 
to  seduce  the  Christian  from  the  trutli,di.nd,  we 
must  own,  these  darts  were  never  so  poison- 
ous as  they  are  noid.  The  emissaries  of  the 
devil,  in  the  time  of  St.  Paul ;  the  heathen 
pliilosophcrs,  the  scribes  and  pharisees,  were 
but  scholars  and  novices  in  the  art  of  colour- 
ing falsehood,  in  comparison  of  our  deists  and 
skeptics,  and  other  antagonists  of  our  holy  re- 
ligion. But,  however  formidable  tlioy  may 
appear,  we  are  able  to  make  them  '  lick  the 
dust,' Micah  vii.  17.  and  as  the  art  of  disguis- 
ing error  was  never  carried  so  far  before,  so, 
thanks  bo  to  God,  my  bretjiren,  that  of  un- 
masking falsehood,  and  of  disjilaying  truth 
in  all  its  glory,  has  extended  with  it. 

The  Christian  ki^ows  how  to  disentangle 
truth  from  six  artifices  of  error.  Tiierc  arc 
six  sophisms,  that  prevail  in  those  wretched 
productions,  which  our  ago  has  brought  forth 
for  tlie  purpose  of  subverting  the  truth. 

1.  The  first  artifice  is  the  confounding  of 
those  matters,  wliich  arc  proposed  to  our  dis- 
cussion ;  and  the  requiring  of  metaphysi- 
cal evidence  of  tiicts  which  are  not  capable 
of  it. 


2.  The  second  artifice  is  the  opposing  of 
possible  circumstances  against  other  circum- 
stances, which  are  evident  and  sure. 

3.  The  next  artifice  pretends  to  weaken  the 
evidence  of  known  things,  by  arguments  tak- 
en from  things  that  are  unknown. 

4.  The  fourth  artifice  is  an  attempt  to  ren- 
der the  doctrines  of  the  gospel  absurd  and 
contradictory,  under  pretence  that  they  are 
obscure. 

5.  The  fifth  article  proposes  arguments  fo- 
reign from  the  subject  in  hand. 

6.  The  last  forms  objections,  which  derive 
their  weight,  not  from  their  own  intrinsic  gra- 
vity ;  but  from  the  superiority  of  the  genius 
of  him  who  proposes  tliem. 

1.  The  matters,  which  are  proposed  to  our 
discussion,  are  confounded ;  and  metaphysi- 
cal evidence  of  facts  is  required,  which  are 
not,  in  the  nature  of  them,  capable  of  tliis 
kind  of  evidence.  We  call  that  metaphysical 
evidence,  which]  is  founded  on  a  clear  idea  of 
the  essence  of  a  subject.  For  example,  wo 
have  a  clear  idea  of  a  certain  number  :  if  we 
afiinn,  that  the  number,  of  which  we  have  a 
clear  idea,  is  equal,  or  unequal,  the  proposi- 
tion is  capable  of  metaphysical  evidence  :  but 
a  question  of  fact  can  only  be  proved  by  a 
union  of  circumstances,  no  one  of  which, 
taken  apart,  would  be  sufficient  to  prove  the 
fact,  but  which  taken  all  together,  make  a 
fact  beyond  a  doubt.  As  it  is  not  allowable 
to  oppose  certain  circumstances  against  a 
proposition  that  has  metaphysical  evidence, 
so  it  is  unreasonable  to  require  metaphysical 
evidence  to  prove  a  matter  of  fact.  I  have  a 
clear  notion  of  a  given  number  ;  I  conclude 
from  this  notion,  that  the  number  is  equal  or 
unequal,  and  it  is  in  vam  to  object  to  me,  that 
all  the  world  does  not  reason  as  I  do.  Let  it 
be  objected  to  me,  that  they,  who  afiirra  that 
the  number  is  equal  or  unequal,  have  perhaps 
some  interest  in  affirming  it.  Objections  of 
this  kind  are  nothing  to  the  purpose,  they  are 
circumstances  which  do  not  at  all  affect  the 
nature  of  the  number,  nor  the  evidence  on 
which  I  aflirm  an  equality,  or  an  inequality, 
of  the  given  number ;  for  I  have  a  clear  idea 
of  the  subject  in  hand.  In  like  manner,  I  see 
a  union  of  circumstances,  which  uniformly 
attests  the  truth  of  a  fact  under  my  examina- 
tion ;  I  yield  to  this  evidence,  and  in  vain  is 
it  objected  to  me,  that  it  is  not  metaphysi- 
cal evidence,  the  subject  before  me  is  not  ca- 
pable of  it. 

We  apply  this  maxim  to  all  the  facts  on 
which  the  truth  of  religion  turns,  such  as 
tliGse  :  there  was  such  a  man  as  Moses,  who 
related  what  he  saw,  and  who  himself  wrought 
several  things  which  he  recorded.  Thero 
were  such  men  as  the  prophets,  who  wrote 
the  books  that  bear  their  names,  and  who 
foretold  many  events  several  ages  before  they 
came  to  ])ass.  Jesus,  the  son  of  Mary,  was 
born  in  the  reign  of  the  emperor  Augustus, 
preached  the  doctrines  which  are  recorded  in 
the*  gosjiel,  and  by  crucifixion  was  put  to 
death.  We  make  a  particular  application  of 
this  maxim  to  tlie  resurrection  of  Jesus 
Christ,  which  we  this  day  commemorate,  and 
it  forms  a  sliicld  to  resist  all  the  fiery  darts 
that  attack  it.  The  I'esurrcction  of  .fesus 
Christ  is  a  fact,  which  wo  ought  to  prove ;  it 


154 


THE  ENEMIES  AND  THE 


[Ser.  XV. 


is  an  extraordinary  fact,  for  the  demonstra- 
tion of  which,  we  allow,  stronger  proofs  ought 
to  be  adduced,  than  for  the  proof  of  a  fact 
that  comes  to  pass  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
things.  But  after  all,  it  is  a  fact ;  and,  in  de- 
monstrating facts  no  proofs  ought  to  be  re- 
quired, but  such  as  establish  facts.  We  have 
the  better  right  to  reason  thus  with  our  op- 

Eonents,  because  they  do  not  support  their 
istorical  skepticisms  without  restrictions. 
On  the  contrary,  they  admit  some  facts, 
which  they  believe  on  the  evidence  of  a  very 
few  circumstances.  But  if  a  few  circumstan- 
ces demonstrate  some  facts,  why  does  not  a 
union  of  all  possible  circiunstances  demon- 
strate other  facts. 

2.  The  second  artifice  is  the  ojjpos'mg  of 
possible  circumstances  which  may  or  may 
not  be  against  other  circumstances  which  are 
evident  and  sure.  All  arguments,  that  are 
founded  on  possible  circumstances,  are  only 
uncertain  conjectures,  and  groundless  suppo- 
sitions. Perhaps  there  may  have  been  floods, 
perhaps  fires,  perhaps  earthquakes,  which,  by 
abolishing  the  memorials  of  past  events,  pre- 
vent our  tracing  things  back  from  age  to  age 
to  demonstrate  the  eternity  of  the  world,  and 
our  discovery  of  monuments  against  religion. 
This  is  a  strange  way  of  reasoning  against 
men,  who  are  armed  with  arguments  which 
are  taken  from  phenomena  avowed,  notorious, 
and  real.  When  we  dispute  against  infidelity; 
when  we  establish  the  existence  of  a  Su- 
preme Being ;  when  we  affirm  that  the  Crea- 
tor of  the  universe  is  eternal  in  his  duration, 
wise  in  his  designs,  powerful  in  his  execu- 
tions, and  magnificent  in  his  gifts  ;  we  do 
not  reason  on  probabilities,  nor  attempt  to 
establish  a  thesis  on  a  may-be.  We  do  not 
say,  perhaps  there  may  be  a  firmament,  that 
covers  us ;  perhaps  there  may  be  a  sun, 
which  enlightens  us  ;  perhaps  there  may  be 
stars,  which  shine  in  the  firmament ;  perhaps 
the  earth  may  support  us ;  perhaps  aliment 
Biay  nourish  us;  perhaps  we  breathe;  perhaps 
air  may  assist  respiration  ;  perhaps  there  may 
be  a  symmetry  in  nature,  and  in  the  ele- 
ments. We  produce  these  phenomena,  and 
we  make  them  the  basis  of  our  reasoning, 
and  of   our  faith. 

3.  The  third  artifice  consists  in  tlie  jrcak- 
ening  of  the  cridenee  of  knoicn  tilings,  by  ar- 

fuments  taken  from  things  ichich  arc  U7i- 
nown.  This  is  another  source  of  sophisms 
invented  to  support  infidelity.  It  grounds  a 
part  of  the  difficulties,  which  arc  opposed  to 
the  system  of  religion,  not  on  what  is  known, 
but  on  what  is  unknown.  Of  what  use  are 
all  the  treasures,  which  are  concealed  in  the 
depths  of  the  sea .''  Why  are  so  many  metals 
buried  in  the  bowels  of  tlie  earth .'  Of  what 
use  are  so  many  stars,  which  glitter  in  the 
firmament .'  Why  are  there  so  many  deserts 
uninhabited,  and  uninhabitable .'  Why  so 
many  mountains  inaccessible  ?  Why  so  many 
insects,  which  are  a  burden  to  nature,  and 
which  seem  designed  only  to  disfigure  it .'' 
Why  did  God  create  men,  who  must  be  mis- 
erable, and  whose  misery  he  could  not  but 
foresee  ?  Why  did  he  confine  revelation 
for  so  many  ages  to  one  single  nation,  and, 
in  a  manner,  to  one  single  family  .'  Wliy  does 
he  still  leave  such  an  infinite  nuiuber  of  peo- 


ple to  '  sit  in  darkness  and  in  the  shadow  of 
death  ?'  Hence  the  infidel  concludes,  either 
that  there  is  no  God,  or  that  he  has  not  the  I 
perfections  which  we  attribute  to  him.  The  1 
Christian,  on  the  contrary,  grounds  his  sys-  1 
tem  on  principles  that  are  evident  and  ' 
sure. 

We  derive  our  arguments,  not  from  what 
we  know  not,  but  irom  what  we  do  know. 
We  derive  them  from  characters  of  intelli- 
gence, which  fall  under  our  observation,  and 
which  we  see  with  our  own  eyes.  We  derive 
them  from  the  nature  of  finite  beings.  We  de- 
rive them  from  the  united  attestations  of  all 
mankind.  We  derive  them  from  miracles,  jj 
which  were  wrought  in  favour  of  religion.  ' 
We  draw  them  from  our  own  hearts,  which 
evince,  by  a  kind  of  reasoning  superior  to  all 
argument,  superior  to  all  scholastic  demon- 
strations, that  religion  is  made  for  man,  that 
the  Creator  of  man  is  the  author  of  religion. 

4.  The  fourth  article  is  an  attempt  to  prove 
a  doctrine  contradictory  and  absurd,  because 
it  is  obscure.  Some  doctrines  of  religion  are 
obscure  ;  but  none  are  contradictory.  God 
acts  towards  us  in  regard  to  the  doctrines  of 
faith,  as  he  does  in  regard  to  the  duties  of 
practice.  When  he  gives  us  laws,  he  gives 
them  as  a  master,  not  as  a- tyrant.  Were  he 
to  impose  laws  on  us,  which  are  contrary  to 
order,  which  would  debase  our  natures,  and 
which  would  make  innocence  productive  of 
misery  ;  this  would  not  be  to  ordain  laws  as 
a  master,  but  as  a  tyrant.  Then  our  duties 
would  be  in  direct  opposition.  That,  which 
would  oblige  us  to  obey,  would  oblige  us  to 
rebel.  It  is  the  eminence  of  the  perfections 
of  God,  which  engages  us  to  obey  him:  but 
his  perfections  would  be  injured  by  the  impo- 
sition of  such  laws  as  these,  and  therefore  > 
we  should  be  instigated  to  rebellion. 

In  like  manner,  God  has  characterized 
truth  and  error.  W'ere  it  possible  for  him  to 
give  error  the  characters  of  truth,  and  truth 
the  characters  of  error,  there  would  be  a  di-  i 
rect  opposition  in  our  ideas ;  and  the  same  I 
reason,  which  would  oblige  us  to  believe,  i 
would  oblige  us  to  disbelieve :  because  that 
Vthich  engages  us  to  believe,  when  God 
speaks,  is,  that  he  is  infallibly  true.  Now,  if 
God  were  to  command  us  to  believe  contra- 
dictions, he  would  cease  to  be  infallibly  true; 
because  nothing  is  more  opposite  to  truth  than 
self-contradiction.  This  is  the  maxim,  which 
we  admit,  and  on  which  we  ground  our  faith 
in  the  mysteries  of  religion.  A  wise  man 
ought  to  know  his  own  wealiness ;  to  con- 
vince himself  that  there  are  questions  which 
he  has  not  capacity  to  answer ;  to  compare 
the  greatness  of  the  object  with  the  littleness 
of  the  intelligence,  to  which  the  object  is 
proposed  ;  and  to  perceive  that  this  dispro- 
portion is  the  only  cause  of  some  difficul- 
ties, which  have  appeared  so  formidable  to 
him. 

Let  us  form  grand  ideas  of  the  Supreme 
Being.  What  ideas  ought  we  to  form  of  him  .'' 
Never  has  a  preacher  a  fairer  opportunity  of 
giving  a  scope  to  his  meditation,  and  ofletting 
his  imagination  loose,  than  when  he  des- 
cribes the  grandeur  of  that  which  is  most 
grand.  But  1  do  not  mean  to  please  your  fan- 
cies by  pompous  descriptions  ;    but  to  edify 


Seb.  XV.] 


ARMS  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


155 


your  minds  by  distinct  ideas.  God  is  an  infi- 
nite Being.  In  an  infinite  being  there  must 
be  things  which  infinitely  surpass  finite  under- 
standing  ;  it  would  be  absurd  to  suppose  other- 
wise. As  the  Scripture  treats  of  this  infinite 
God,  it  must  necessarily  treat  of  subjects 
which  absorb  the  ideas  of  a  finite  mind. 

5.  The  fifth  article  attacks  the  truth  by  ar- 
guracnts  foreign  from  the  subject  under  con- 
sideration. To  propose  arguments  of  this 
kind  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous  tricks  of 
error.  The  most  essential  precaution,  that 
we  can  use,  in  the  investigation  of  truth,  is 
to  distinguish  that  which  is  foreign  from  the 
subject  from  that  which  is  really  connected 
with  it ;  and  there  is  no  question  in  divinity, 
or  philosophy,  casuistry,  or  policy,  which 
could  afford  abstruse  and  endless  disputes,were 
not  every  one,  who  talks  of  it,  fatally  ingeni- 
ous in  the  art  of  incorporating  in  it  a  thousand 
ideas,  which  are  foreign  from  it. 

You  hold  such  and  such  doctrines,  say 
some  :  and  yet  Luther,  Calvin,  and  a  hundred 
celebrated  divines  in  your  communion,  have 
advanced  many  false  arguments  in  defence  of 
it.  But  what  does  this  signify  to  me  ?  The 
question  is  not  whether  these  doctrines  have 
been  defended  by  weak  arguments ;  but 
whether  the  arguments,  that  determine  me 
to  receive  them,  be  conclusive,  or  sophistical 
and  vague. 

You  receive  such  a  doctrine  :  but  Origin, 
Tertullian,  and  St.  Augustine,  did  not  believe 
it.  And  what  then .'  Am  I  inquiring  what 
these  fathers  did  believe,  or  what  they  ought 
to  have  believed .-' 

You  believe  such  a  doctrine  :  but  very  few 
people  believe  it  beside  yourself:  the  greatest 
part  of  Europe,  almost  all  France,  all  Spain, 
all  Italy,  whole  kingdoms  disbelieve  it,  and 
maintain  opinions  diametrically  opposite. 
And  what  is  all  this  to  me  .-'  Am  I  examining 
what  doctrines  have  the  greatest  number  of 
partisans,  or  what  doctrines  ought  to  have  the 
most  universal  spread  ? 

You  embrace  such  a  doctrine  :  but  many 
illustrious  persons,  cardinals,  kings,  emperors, 
triple-crowned  heads,  reject  what  you  receive. 
But  what  avails  this  reasoning  to  me  .'  Am  I 
considering  the  rank  of  those  who  receive  a 
doctrine,  or  the  reasons  which  ought  to  deter- 
mine them  to  receive  it  ?  Have  cardinals, 
have  kings,  have  emperors,  have  triple-crown- 
ed heads,  the  clearest  ideas  .''  Do  they  labour 
more  than  all  other  men  .-'  Are  they  the  most 
indefatigable  inquirers  after  truth  .'  Do  they 
make  the  greatest  sacrifices  to  order.''  Are 
tiiey,  of  all  mankind,  the  first  to  lay  aside 
those  prejudices  and  passions,  which  envelope 
and  obscure  the  truth  ? 

G.  The  last  artifice  is  this :  Objections 
which  arc  made  against  the  truth,  derive  their 
force,  not  from  their  own  reasonableness,  hat 
from  the  superiority  of  the  genius  of  him  icho 
proposes  them.  There  is  no  kind  of  truth, 
which  its  defenders  would  not  be  obliged  to 
renounce,  were  it  right  to  give  up  a  proposi- 
tion, because  we  could  not  answer  all  the  ob- 
jections which  were  formed  against  it.  A 
mechanic  could  not  answer  the  arguments, 
that  I  could  propose  to  him,  to  prove,  when 
he  walks,  that  there  is  no  motion  in  nature, 
that  it  is  the  highest  absurdity  to  suppose  it. 


A  mechanic  could  not  answer  the  arguments, 
that  I  could  propose  to  him,  to  prove  that  there 
is  no  matter,  even  while  he  felt  and  touched 
his  own  body,  which  is  material.  A  me- 
chanic could  not  answer  the  arguments,  that 
I  could  propose  to  him,  when  he  had  finished 
his  day's  work,  to  prove  that  I  gave  him  five 
shilhngs,  even  when  I  had  given  him  but 
three.  And  yet,  a  mechanic  has  more  rea- 
son for  his  assertions,  than  the  greatest  ge- 
niuses in  the  universe  have  for  their  objec- 
tions, when  he  aflirms,  that  I  gave  him  but 
three  shillings,  that  there  is  motion,  that 
there  is  a  mass  of  matter  to  which  his  soul  is 
united,  and  in  which  it  is  but  too  often,  in  a 
manner,  buried  as  in  a  tomb. 

You  simple,  but  sincere  souls  :  you  spirits 
of  the  lowest  class  of  mankind,  but  often  of 
the  highest  at  the  tribunal  of  reason  and 
good  sense,  this  article  is  intended  for  you. 
Weigh  the  words  of  the  second  command- 
ment, '  Thou  shalt  not  make  unto  thee  any 
graven  image,  thou  shalt  not  bow  down  thy- 
self to  them.'  You  have  more  reason  to  jus- 
tify your  doctrine  and  worship,  than  all  the 
doctors  of  the  universe  have  to  condemn  them, 
by  their  most  specious,  and,  in  regard  to  you, 
by  their  most  indissoluble  objections.  Wor- 
ship Jesus  Christ  in  imitation  of  the  angels  of 
heaven,  to  whom  God  said,  '  Let  all  the  an- 
gels of  God  worship  him,'  Heb.  i.  6.  Pray  to 
him,  after  the  example  of  St.  Stephen,  and 
say  unto  him,  as  that  holy  martyr  said,  in  the 
hour  of  death, '  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit,' 
Actsvii.59.  Believe  on  the  testimony  of  the 
inspired  writers,  that  he  is  eternal,  as  his  Fa- 
ther is  ;  that,  with  the  Father,  he  is  the  Crea- 
tor of  the  world  ;  that,  hke  the  Father,  he  is 
Almighty?;  that  he  has  all  the  essential  attri- 
butes of  the  Deity,  as  the  Father  has.  You 
have  more  reason  for  these  doctrines,  and  for 
this  worship  than  the  most  refined  sophists 
have  for  all  their  most  specious  objections, 
even  for  those  which,  to  you,  are  the  most 
unanswerable.  '  Hold  that  fast  which  ye  have,' 
let '  no  man  take  your  crown,'  Rev.  iii.  11. 

II.  We  have  seen  the  darts  which  Satan 
shoots  at  us,  to  subdue  us  to  the  dominion  of 
error :  let  us  now  examine  those  with  which 
he  aims  to  make  us  submit  to  the  empire  of 
■vice :  but,  lest  we  should  overcharge  your 
memories  with  too  many  precepts,  we  will 
take  a  method  different  from  that  which  we 
have  followed  in  the  foriner  part  of  this  dis- 
course ;  and,  in  order  to  give  you  a  more 
lively  idea  of  tliat  steadiness,  with  which  the 
apostle  intended  to  animate  us,  we  will  show 
it  you  reduced  to  practice  ;  we  will  represent 
such  a  Christian,  as  St.  Paul  himself  describes 
in  the  text,  '  wrestling  against  flesh  and  blood, 
against  principalities,  against  powers,  against 
the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  world, 
against  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  places.' 
We  will  show  you  the  Christian  resisting 
four  sorts  of  tlie  fiery  darts  of  tlie  wicked. 
The  false  maxims  of  the  world.  The  perni- 
cious examples  of  the  multitude.  Threaten- 
ings  and  persecutions.  And  the  snares  of 
sensual  pleasures. 

1.  Satan  attacks  the  Christian  with  *  false 
maxims  of  the  world.'  These  are  some  of 
them.  Christians  arc  not  obliged  to  practise 
a  rigid  morality.    In  times  of  persecution,  it 


156 


THE  ENEMIES  AND  THE 


[Ser.  XV. 


is  allowable  to  palliate  our  sentiments,  and,  if 
the  heart  be  right  with  God,  there  is  no  harm 
in  a  conformity  to  the  world.  The  God  of 
religion  is  the  God  of  nature,  and  it  is  not 
conceivable,  that  religion  should  condemn  the 
feelings  of  nature  ;  or,  that  the  ideas  of  fire 
and  brimstone,  with  which  the  Scriptures  are 
filled,  should  have  any  other  aim,  than  to  pre- 
vent men  from  carrying  vice  to  extremes : 
they  cannot  mean  to  restrain  every  act  of  sin. 
The  time  of  youth  is  a  season  of  pleasure. 
We  ought  not  to  aspire  at  salntship.  We 
must  do  as  other  people  do.  It  is  beneath  a 
man  of  honour  to  put  up  with  an  affront ;  a 
gentleman  ought  to  require  satisfaction.  No 
reproof  is  due  to  him  who  hurts  nobody  but 
himself.  Time  must  be  killed.  Detraction 
is  the  salt  of  conversation.  Impurity,  indeed, 
is  intolerable  in  a  woman ;  but  it  is  very  par- 
donable in  men.  Human  frailty  excuses  the 
greatest  excesses.  To  pretend  to  be  perfect 
m  virtue,  is  to  subvert  the  order  of  things, 
and  to  metamorphose  man  into  a  pure  disem- 
bodied intelligence.  My  brethren,  how  easy 
it  is  to  make  proselytes  to  a  religion  so  ex- 
actly fitted  to  the  depraved  propensities  of  the 
human  heart ! 

These  maxims  have  a  singular  character, 
they  seem  to  unite  that  which  is  most  irre- 
gular with  that  which  is  most  regular  in  the 
heart ;  and  they  are  the  more  likely  to  sub- 
vert our  faith,  because  they  seem  to  bo  con- 
sistent with  it.  However,  all  that  they  aim 
at  is,  to  unite  heaven  and  hell,  and,  by  a  mon- 
strous assemblage  of  heterogeneous  objects, 
they  propose  to  make  us  enjoy  the  pleasures 
of  sin  and  the  joys  of  heaven.  If  Satan  were 
openly  to  declare  to  us,  that  we  must  pro- 
claim war  with  God  ;  that  we  must  make  an 
alliance  with  him  against  the  divine  power  ; 
that  we  must  oppose  his  majesty  :  reason  and 
conscience  would  reject  propositions  so  de- 
testable and  gross.  But,  when  he  attacks  us 
by  such  motives  as  we  have  related ;  when 
he  tells  us,  not  that  we  must  renounce  the 
hopes  of  heaven,  but  that  a  few  steps  in  an 
easy  path  will  conduct  us  thither.  When  he 
invites  us,  not  to  deny  religion,  but  to  content 
ourselves  with  observing  a  few  articles  of  it. 
When  he  does  not  strive  to  render  us  insen- 
sible to  the  necessities  of  a  poor  neighbour, 
but  to  convince  us  that  we  should  first  take 
care  of  ourselves,  for  charity,  as  they  say,  be- 
gins at  home : — do  you  not  conceive,  my 
brethren,  that  there  is  in  this  morality  a  se- 
cret poison,  Avhich  slides  insensibly  into  the 
heartj'and  corrodes  all  the  powers  of  the  soul  ? 

The  Christian  is  not  vuhierable  by  any  of 
these  maxims.  He  derives  help  from  the  re- 
ligion, which  he  professes,  against  all  the  ef- 
forts tliat  are  employed  to  divert  him  from  it ; 
and  he  conquers  by  resisting  Satan  as  Jesus 
Christ  resisted  him,  and,  lilse  him,  opposes 
maxim  against  maxim,  the  maxiriis  of  Christ 
against  the  maxims  of  the  world.  Would 
Satan  persuade  us,  that  we  follow  a  morality 
too  rigid  .'  It  is  written,  we  must '  enter  in  at 
a  strait  gate,'  Matt.  vii.  13,  '  pluck  out  the 
right  eye,  cut  offlhe  right  hand,'  chap.  v.  20, 
30 :  '  deny  ourselves,  take  up  our  cross,  and 
follow  Christ ,'  chap.  xvi.  24.  Docs  Satan  say 
it  is  allowable  to  conceal  our  religion  in  a 
time  of  persecution  .'   It  is  written,  we  nmst 


i 


confess  Jesus  Christ ;  '  whosoever  shall  deny 
him  before  men,  him  will  he  deny  before  liis 
Father  who  is  in  heaven ;  he  who  loveth  fa- 
ther or  mother  more  than  him,  is  not  worthy 
of  him,'  chap.  x.  32,  33,  37.  Would  Satan  in- 
spire us  with  revenge  ?  It  is  written,  '  Dear- 
ly beloved,  avenge  not  yourselves,'  Rom.  xii. 
19.  Does  Satan  require  us  to  devote  our 
youthful  days  to  sin  .■"  It  is  written, '  Remem- 
ber thy  Creator  in  the  daysof  Ay  youth,'  Ec- 
cles.  xii.l.  Does  Satan  tell  us  that  we  must 
not  aspire  to  be  saints  ?  It  is  written,  '  Be  yo 
holy,  fori  am  holy,'  I  Pet.i  IG ;  Would  Sa- 
tan teach  us  to  dissipate  time  ?  It  is  written, 
'  we  must  redeem  time,'  Eph.  v.  16  ;  we  must 
'  number  our  days,'  in  order  to  '  apply  our 
hearts  unto  wisdom,'  Ps.  xc.  12.  Would  Sa- 
tan encourage  us  to  slander  our  neighbour.' 
It  is  written,  '  Revilers  shall  not  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God,'  1  Cor.  vi.  10.  Does  Satan 
tell  us  we  deserve  no  reproof  when  we  do  no 
liarm .''  It  is  written,  we  are  to  practise 
'  whatsoever  things  are  pure,  whatsoever  con- 
stitutes virtue,  whatsoever  things  are  worthy 
of  praise,'  Phil.  iv.  S.  Would  Satan  tempt  us 
to  indulge  impurity  .''  It  is  written,  '  our  bo- 
dies are  the  members  of  Christ,'  and  it  is  a 
crime  to  '  make  them  the  members  of  a  har- 
lot,' 1  Cor.  vi.  15.  Would  Satan  unite  hea- 
ven and  earth  ?  It  is  written,  '  There  is  no  • 
concord  between  Christ  and  Belial,  }io  com- 
munion between  light  and  darkness,'  2  Cor. 
vi.  14, 15  ;  '  no  man  can  serve  two  masters,' 
Matt.  vi.  24.  Does  Satan  urge  the  impossi- 
bility of  perfection .'  It  is  written,  '  Be  ye 
perfect,  as  your  Father,  who  is  in  heaven,  is 
perfect,'  chap.  v.  48. 

2.  There  is  a  ditference  between  those  who 
preach  the  maxims  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
those  who  preach  the  maxims  of  the  world. 
The  former,  alas '  are  as  frail  as  the  rest  of 
mankind,  and  they  themselves  are  apt  to  vio- 
late the  laws  which  they  prescribe  to  others  ; 
so  that  it  must  be  sometimes  said  of  them, 
'  What  they  bid  you  observe,  observe  and  do ; 
but  do  not  ye  after  their  works,'  Matt,  xxiii.  J 
3.  They  who  preach  the  maxims  of  the  ^ 
world,  on  the  contrary,  never  fail  to  confirm 
the  pernicious  maxims,  which  they  advance 
by  their  own  examples:  and  hence  a  second 
quiver  of  those  darts,  with  which  Satan  at- 
tempts to  destroy  the  virtues  of  Christianity ; 
I  mean  the  examples  of  had  men. 

Each  order  of  men,  each  condition  of  life, 
each  society,  has  some  peculiar  vice,  and 
each  of  these  is  so  established  by  custom, 
that  we  cannot  resist  it,  without  being  ac- 
counted, according  to  the  usual  phrase,  men 
of  another  world.  Vicious  men  are  some- 
times respectable  persons.  They  are  parents, 
they  are  ministers,  they  are  magistrates.  We 
bring  into  the  world  with  us  a  turn  to  imita- 
tion. Our  brain  is  so  formed  as  to  receive 
impressions  from  all  exterior  objects,  and  if 
I  may  be  allowed  to  speak  so,  to  talte  the  form 
of  every  thing  that  affects  it.  How  difficult 
is  it,  my  brethren,  to  avoid  contagion,  when 
we  breathe  an  air  so  infected  !  The  desire  of 
pleasing  oflen  prompts  us  to  that  which  our 
inclinations  ablior,  and  very  few  peoi>le  can 
bear  this  reproach  ;  you  are  unfashionable  and 
unpolite  !  How  much  harder  is  it  to  resist  a 
torrent,  when  it  fiills  in  with  the  dispositions 


S^R.XV.] 


ARMS   OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


157 


of  our  own  hearts  !  The  Christian,  however, 
resolutely  resists  this  attack,  and  opposes 
model  to  model,  the  patterns  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  of  his  associates,  to  the  examples  of  an 
apostate  world. 

The  first,  the  great  model,  the  exemplar  of 
all  others,  is  Jesus  Christ.  Faith,  which  al- 
ways fixes  the  eyes  of  a  Christian  on  his  Sa- 
viour, incessantly  contemplates  his  virtues, 
and  also  inclines"  him  to  holiness  by  stirring 
up  his  natural  propensity  to  imitation.  Jesus 
Christ  reduced  every  virtue,  which  he  preach- 
ed, to  practice.  Did  he  preach  a  detachment 
from  the  world  ?  And  could  it  be  carried  far- 
ther than  the  divine  Saviour  carried  it  ?  He 
was  exposed  to  hunger,  and  to  thirst ;  to  the 
inclemency  of  seasons,  and  to  the  contempt 
of  mankind  :  he  had  no  fortune  to  recommend 
him  to  the  world,  no  great  office  to  render 
him  conspicuous  there.  Did  he  preach  zeal  r 
He  passed  the  day  in  the  instructing  of  men, 
and,  as  the  saving  of  souls  filled  up  the  day, 
the  night  he  spent  in  praying  to  God.  Did 
he  preach  patience  .'  '  When  he  was  revil- 
ed,'he  reviled  not  again,'  1  Pet.  ii.  23.  Did 
he  preach  love  .''  '  Greater  love  than  he  had 
no  man,  for  he  laid  down  his  life  for  his 
friends,'  John  xv.  13.  His  incarnation,  his 
birth,  his  life,  his  cross,  his  death,  are  so  many 
voices,  each  of  which  cries  to  us,  '  Behold 
how  he  loved  you,'  chap.  xi.  35. 

Had  Jesus  Christ  alone  practised  the  Adr- 
tues  which  he  prescribed  to  us,  it  might  be 
objected,  that  a  man  must  be  '  conceived  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,'  Matt.  i.  20,  to  resist  the 
force  of  custom.  But  we  have  seen  many 
Christians,  who  have  walked  in  the  steps  of 
their  master.  The  primitive  church  was 
'  compassed  about  with  a  happy  societj',  a 
great  cloud  of  witnesses,'  Heb.  xii.  1.  Even 
now  in  spite  of  the  power  of  corruption,  we 
have  many  illustrious  examples ;  we  can 
show  magistrates,  who  are  accessible :  ge- 
nerals, who  are  patient ;  merchants,  who  are 
disinterested  ;  learned  men,  who  are  teach- 
able ;  and  devotees,  who  are  lowly  and 
meek. 

Ifthe  believer  could  find  no  exemplary 
characters  on  earth,  he  could  not  fail  of  meet- 
ing with  such  in  heaven.  On  earth,  it  is 
true,  haughtiness,  sensuality,  and  pride,  are 
in  fashion.  But  the  believer  is  not  on  earth. 
He  is  reproached  for  bein?  a  man  of  another 
world.  He  glories  in  it,  he  is  a  man  of  ano- 
ther world,  he  is  a  heavenly  man,  he  is  a 
*  citizen  of  heaven,'  Phil.  iii.  20.  His  heart 
is  with  his  treasure,  and  his  soul,  transport- 
ing itself  by  faith  into  the  heavenly  regions, 
beholds  customs  there  different  from  those 
which  prevail  in  this  world.  In  heaven  it  is 
the  fashion  to  bless  God,  to  sing  his  praise, 
to  cry,  '  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  of 
hosts,'  Isa.  vi.  3,  to  anhnate  one  another  in 
celebrating  the  glory  of  the  great  Supreme, 
who  reigns  and  fills  the  place.  On  earth, 
fashion  proceeds  from  the  courts  of  kings, 
and  the  provinces  are  polite  when  they  imi- 
tate them.  The  believer  is  a  heavenly  cour- 
tier ;  he  practises,  in  the  midst  of  a  crooked 
and  perverse  nation,  the  customs  of  the 
court  whence  he  came,  and  to  which  he  hopes 
to  return. 

8.  Satan  assaults  the  Christian  with  the 


threatenings  of  the  world,  and  with  the  pef* 
secutions  of  those  who  are  in  power,  vir- 
tue, I  own,  has  a  venerable  aspect,  which  at- 
tracts respect  from  those  who  hate  it :  but, 
after  all,  it  is  hated.  A  beneficent  man  is  a 
troublesome  object  to  a  miser  :  the  patience 
of  a  believer  throws  a  shade  over  the  char- 
acter of  a  passionate  man  :  and  the  men  of 
the  world  will  always  persecute  those  vir- 
tues, which  they  cannot  resolve  to  practice. 

Moreover,  there  is  a  kind  of  persecution, 
which  approaches  to  madness,  when,  to  tha 
hatred,  which  our  enemies  naturally  havo 
against  us,  they  add  sentiments  of  supersti- 
tion ;  when,  under  pretence  of  religion,  they 
avenge  their  own  cause  ;  and,  according  to 
tlie  language  of  Scripture,  think  that  to  kill 
the  saints  is  '  to  render  service  to  God,'  Johu 
X.  2.  Hence  so  many  edicts  against  primi- 
tive Christianity,  and  so  many  cruel  laws 
against  Christians  themselves.  Hence  the 
filhng  of  a  thousand  deserts  with  exiles,  and 
a  thousand  prisons  with  confessors.  Hence 
tlie  letting  loose  of  bears,  and  bulls,  and  li- 
ons, on  the  saints,  to  divert  the  inhabitants  of 
Rome.  Hence  the  applying  of  redhot  plates 
of  iron  to  tiieir  flesh.  Hence  iron  pincers 
to  prolong  their  pain  by  pulling  them  in 
piecemeal.  Hence  caldrons  of  boiling  oil,  in 
which,  by  the  industrious  cruelty  of  their 
persecutors,  they  died  by  fire  and  by  water 
too.  Hence  burning  brazen  bulls,  and  seats 
of  fire  and  flame.  Hence  the  skins  of  wild 
beasts  in  which  they  were  wrapped,  in  order 
to  be  torn  and  devoured  by  dogs.  And 
hence  those  strange  and  nameless  punish- 
ments, which  would  seem  to  have  rather  the 
air  of  fables  than  of  historical  facts,  had  not 
Christian  persecutors,  (good  God !  must 
these  two  titles  go  together  !)  had  not  Chris- 
tian persecutors Let  us  pass 

this  article,  my  brethren,  let  us  cover  these 
bloody  objects  Vv'ith  a  veil  of  patience  and 
love. 

Ah  !  how  violent  is  this  combat !  Shall  I 
open  the  wounds  again,  which  the  mercy  of 
God  has  closed  ?  Shall  I  recall  to  your  me- 
mories the  falls  of  some  of  you  .'  '  Give  glo- 
ry to  God,'  Josh.  vii.  19.  Cast  3'our  eyes 
for  a  moment  on  that  fatal  day,  in  which  the 
violence  of  persecution  wrenched  from  you  a 
denial  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  whom  in 
your  souls  you  adored  ;  made  you  sign  with 
n,  trembling  hand,  and  utter  with  a  faultering 
tongue,  those  base  words  against  Jesus 
Christ,  '  I  do  not  know  the  man,'  Matt.  xxvi. 
72.  Let  us  own,  then,  that  Satan  is  infinite- 
ly formidable,  when  he  strikes  us  with  the 
thunderbolts  of  persecution. 

A  new  combat  bring's  on  a  new  victory, 
and  the  constancy  of  the  Christian  is  dis- 
played in  many  a  triumphant  banner.  Turn 
over  the  annals  of  the  church,  and  behold 
how  a  fervid  faith  has  operated  in  fiery  tri- 
als. It  has  inspired  many  Stephens  with 
mercy,  who,  while  they  sank  under  their 
persecutors,  said  '  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to 
their  charge,'  Acts  vii.  GO.  Many  with  St. 
Paul  have  abounded  in  patience,  and  have 
said,  '  Being  reviled,  we  bless,  being  defamed, 
we  entreat,'  1  Cor.  iv.  12,  13.  It  has  filled 
a  Barlaam  with  praise,  who  while  his  hand 
was  held  over  the  fire  to  scatter  that  incense 


158 


THE  ENEMIES  AND  THE 


[Ser.  XV. 


which  in  spite  of  him,  liis  persecutors  had 
determined  he  should  offer,  sang,  as  well  as 
he  could,  'Blessed  be  the  Lord,  who"  teach- 
eth  my  hands  to  war,  and  my  fingers  to 
fight,'  Ps.  cxliv.  2.  It  transported  that  holy 
woman  with  joy,  who  said,  as  she  was  going 
to  suffer,  crowns  are  distributed  to  day,  and  I 
am  going  to  receive  one.  It  inspired  Prlark, 
bishop  of  Arethusa,  witli  magnanimity,  who, 
according  to  Theodoret,  after  he  had  been 
mangled  and  slashed,  bathed  in  a  liquid,  of 
which  insects  are  fond,  and  hungf  up  in  the 
sun  to  be  devoured  by  them,  said  to  the  spec- 
tators, I  pity  you,  ye  people  of  the  world,  I 
am  ascending  to  heaven,  while  ye  are  crawl- 
ing on  earth.  And  how  many  JMarks  of  Are- 
thusa, how  many  Barlaams,  how  many  Ste- 
phens, and  Pauls,  have  we  known  in  our  age, 
whose  memories  history  will  transmit  to  the 
most  distant  times ! 

4.  But  how  formidable  soever  Satan  may 
be,  when  he  shoots  the  fiery  darts  of  perse- 
cution at  us,  it  must  be  granted,  my  bre- 
thren, he  discharges  others  far  more  danger- 
ous to  us,  when,  having  studied  our  passions, 
he  presents  those  objects  to  our  hearts  which 
they  idolize,  and  gives  us  the  possession,  or 
the  hope  of  possessing  them.  The  first  ages 
of  Christianity,  in  which  religion  felt  all  the 
rage  of  tyrants,  were  not  the  most  fatal  to  the 
church.  Great  tribulations  produced  great 
virtues,  and  the  blood  of  the  mart3'rs  was  the 
seed  of  the  church.  But  when  under  Chris- 
tian emperors,  believers  enjoyed  the  privi- 
leges of  the  world,  and  the  profession  of  the 
faith  was  no  obstacle  to  worldly  grandeur, 
the  church  became  corrupt,  and,  by  sharing 
the  advantages,  partook  of  the  vices  of  the 
world. 

Among  the  many  different  objects,  which 
the  world  offers  to  our  view,  there  is  always 
one,  there  are  often  more,  which  the  lieart 
approves.  The  heart,  which  does  not  glow 
at  the  sight  of  riches,  may  sigh  after  honours. 
The  soul  that  is  insensible  to  glory,  may  be 
enchanted  with  pleasure.  The  demon  of 
concupiscence,  revolving  for  ever  around  us, 
will  not  fail  to  present  to  each  of  us  that 
enticement,  which  of  all  others  is  the  most 
agreeable  to  us.  See  his  conduct  to  David. 
He  could  not  entice  him  by  the  idea  of  a 
throne  to  become  a  parricide,  and  to  stain  his 
hands  with  the  blood  of  the  anointed  of  the 
Lord:  but,  as  he  was  inaccessible  one  wa}^, 
another  art  must  be  tried.  He  exhibited  to 
his  view  an  object  fatal  to  his  innocence  :  the 
prophet  saw,  admired,  was  dazzled,  and  in- 
flamed with  a  criminal  passion,  and  to  grati- 
fy it,  began  in  adultery,  and  murder  closed 
the  scene. 

My  brethren,  you  do  not  feel  these  passions 
now,  your  souls  are  attentive  to  these  great 
truths,  and,  wliile  you  hear  of  the  snares  of 
concupiscence,  you  discover  the  vanity  of 
them.  But  if,  instead  of  our  voice,  Satan 
were  to  utter  his  ;  if,  instead  of  being  con- 
fined within  these  walls,  you  were  transport- 
ed to  the  pinnacle  of  an  eminent  edifice ; 
were  he  there  to  show  you  '  all  the  kingdoms 
of  the  world,  and  the  glory  of  them,'  Matt. 
iv.  b,  and  to  say  to  each  of  you,  There, 
you  shall  content  your  pride  :  here,  you  shall 
eatiate   your  vengeance :  yonder,  you  shall 


roll  in  voluptuousness.  I  fear,  I  fear,  my 
brethren,  very  few  of  us  would  say  to  such  a 
dangerous  enemv,  '  Satan  get  thee  hence/ 
ver.    10. 

This  is  the  fourth  assault,  which  the  demon 
of  cupidity  makes  on  the  Christian ;  this  is 
the  last  triumph  of  Christian  constancy  and 
resolution.  In  these  assaults  the  Christian 
is  firm.  The  grand  ideas,  which  he  forms  of 
God,  makes  him  fear  to  irritate  the  Deity, 
and  to  raise  up  such  a  formidable  foe.  They 
fill  him  with  a  just  apprehension  of  the  folly 
of  that  man,  who  will  be  happy  in  spite  of 
God.  For  self-gratification,  at  the  expense 
of  duty,  is  nothing  else  but  a  determination 
to  be  happy  in  opposition  to  God.  This  is 
the  utmost  degree  of  extravagance  :  '  Do  we 
provoke  the  Lord  to  jealousy  ?  Are  we 
stronger  than  he  ?    1  Cor.  x.  22. 

Over  all,  the  Christian  fixes  his  eye  on  the 
immense  rewards,  which  God  reserves  for 
him  in  another  world.  The  good  things  of 
this  world,  we  just  now  observed,  have  some 
relation  to  our  passions :  but,  after  all,  can 
the  world  satisfy  them  ?  My  passions  are 
infinite,  every  finite  object  is  inadequate  to 
them.  My  ambition,  my  voluptuousness, 
my  avarice,  are  only  irritated,  they  are  not 
satisfied,  by  all  the  objects  which  the  present 
world  exhibits  to  my  view.  Christians,  we 
no  longer  preach  to  you  to  limit  your  desires. 
Expand  them,  be  ambitious,  be  covetous,  be 
greedy  of  pleasure  :  but  be  so  in  a  supreme 
degree.  Jerusalem,  '  enlarge  the  place  of 
thy  tent,  stretch  forth  the  curtains  of  thine 
habitations,  spare  not,  lengthen  thy  cords, 
and  strengthen  thy  stakes,'  Isa.  liv.  2.  The 
throne  of  thy  sovereign,  the  pleasures  that 
are  at  his  right  hand,  the  inexhaustible  mines 
of  his  happiness,  will  quench  the  utmost 
thirst  of  thy  heart. 

From  what  has  been  said,  I  infer  only  two 
consequences,  and  them,  my  brethren,  I 
would  use  to  convince  you  of  the  grandeur 
of  a  Christian,  and  of  the  grandeur  of  an  in- 
telligent soul. 

1.  Let  us  learn  to  form  grand  ideas  of  a 
Christian.  The  pious  man  is  often  disdained 
in  society  by  men  of  the  world.  He  is  often 
taxed  with  narrowness  of  genius,  and  mean- 
ness of  soul.  He  is  often  dismissed  to  keep 
company  with  those,  whom  the  world  calls 
good  folhs.  But  what  unjust  appraisers  of 
things  are  mankind  !  How  little  does  it  be- 
come them  to  pretend  to  distribute  glory ! 
Christian  is  a  grand  character.  A  Christian 
man  unites  in  himself  what  is  most  grand, 
both  in  the  mind  of  a  philosopher,  and  in  the 
herrt  of  a  hero. 

The  unshaken  steadiness  of  his  soul  ele- 
vates him  above  whatever  is  most  grand  in 
the  mind  of  a  philosopher.  The  philosopher 
flatters  himself  that  he  is  arrived  at  this  gran- 
deur ;  but  he  only  imagines  so  ;  it  is  the 
Christian  who  possesses  it.  He  alone  knows 
how  to  distinguish  the  true  from  the  false. 
The  Christian  is  the  man  who  knows  how  to 
ascend  to  heaven,  to  procure  wisdom  there, 
and  to  bring  it  down  and  to  diffuse  on  earth. 
It  is  the  Christian  who  having  learned,  by  the 
accurate  exercise  of  his  reason,  the  imperfec- 
tion of  his  knowledge,  and  having  supplied 
the   want   of  perfection  in  himself,  by  sub- 


Ser.  XV.] 


ARMS  OF  CPIRISTIANITY. 


159 


mitting  to  the  decisions  of  an  infallible  Being, 
steadily  resists  all  the  illusions,  and  all  the 
sophisms  of  error  and  falsehood. 

And,  as  he  possesses,  as  he  surpasses, 
whatever  is  most  grand  iu'tho  mind  of  a  phi- 
losopher, so  he  possesses  whatever  is  most 
grand  in  the  heart  of  a  hero.  That  grandeur, 
of  which  the  worldly  hero  vainly  imagines 
himself  in  possession,  the  Cliristian  alone 
really  enjoys.  It  is  the  Christian  who  fiist 
forms  the  heroical  design  of  taking  the  per- 
fections of  God  for  his  jnodcl,  and  then  sur- 
mounts every  obstacle  that  opposes  his  laud- 
able career.  It  is  the  Christian  who  has  the 
courage,  not  to  rout  an  army,  neither  to  cut 
a  way  through  a  squadron,  nor  to  scale  a 
wall ;  but  to  stem  an  immoral  torrent,  to 
free  himself  from  the  maxims  of  the  world,  to 
bear  pain  and  to  despise  shame,  and,  what 
perhaps  may  be  yet  more  magnanimous,  and 
more  rare,  to  be  impregnable  against  whole 
armies  of  voluptuotis  attacks.  It  is  the 
Christian  then  v/ho  is  the  only  true  philoso- 
pher, the  only  real  hero.  Let  us  be  v.'ell 
persuaded  of  this  truth  ;  if  the  world  des- 
pise us,  let  us,  in  our  turn,  despise  the  world  ; 
let  us  be  highly  satined  with  that  degree  of 
elevation,  to  whicli  grace  has  raised  us.  This 
is  the  first  consequence. 

2.  We  infer  from  this  subject  the  excel- 
lence of  your  souls.  Two  mighty  powers 
dispute  tlie  sovereignty  over  them,  God  and 
Satan.  Satan  employs  his  subtilty  to  sub- 
due you  to  him  :  ho  terrifies  you  with  threat- 
enings,  he  enchants  you  with  promises,  he 
endeavours  to  produce  errors  in  your  minds, 
and  passions  in  your  hearts. 

On  the  other  hand,  God,  having  redeemed 
you  with  the  purest  and  most  precious 
blood,  having  sluiken^  in  your  favour,  'the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  the  sea,  and  the  dry 
land,'  Hag.  ii.  6,  still  continues  to  resist 
Satan  for  you,  to  take  away  his  prey  from 
him  ;  and  from  the  highest  heaven,  to  ani- 
mate you  with  these  grand  motives,  which 
we  have  this  day  been  proposing  to  your  me- 
ditation. To-day  God  would  attract  you,  by 
the  most  affecting  means,   to  himself. 

Wliile  heaven  and  earth,  God  and  the 
world,  endeavours  to  gain  your  souls,  do  you 
alone  continue  indolent .''  Arc  you  alone  ig- 
norant of  your  own  worth  .'  Ah  !  learn  to 
know  your  own  excellence,  triumph  over 
flesh  and  blood,  trample  the  world  beneath 
your  feet,  go  from  conquering  to  conquer. 
Listen  to  tlie  voice  that  cries  to  you,  '  To 
him  that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit  with 
me  in  my  throne,  even  as  1  also  overcame, 
and  am  set  down  with  my  Father  in  his 
throne,'  Rev.  iii.  21.  Continue  in  the  faith, 
*  hold  that  fast  which  thou  hast,  that  no  man 
take  thy  crown,'  ver.  IL  Having  fought 
through  life,  redouble  your  believing  vigour 
at  the  approach  of  death. 

All  the  wars  which  the  world  makes  on 
your  faith,  should  prepare  you  lor  tlie  most 


great,  the  most  formidable  attack  of  all, 
'  The  last  enemy  that  shall  be  destroyed,  is 
death,'  1  Cor.  xv.  26.  The  circumstances 
of  death  are  called  an  agony,  that  is,  a 
wrestling.  In  effect,  it  is  the  mightiest  effort 
of  Satan,  and  therefore  our  faith  should  re- 
double its  vigorous  acts. 

Then  Satan  will  attack  you  with  cutting 
griefs,  and  doubts  and  fears  ;  then  will  he 
present  to  you  a  deplorable  family,  whoso 
cries  and  tears  will  pierce  your  hearts,  and 
who,  by  straitening  the  ties  that  bind  you  to 
the  earth,  will  raise  obstacles  to  prevent  the 
ascent  of  your  souls  to  God.  He  will  alarm 
you  with  the  idea  of  divine  justice,  and 
will  terrify  you  W'ith  that  of  consuming  fire, 
which  must  devour  the  adversaries  of  God. 
He  will  paint,  in  the  most  dismal  colours,  all 
the  sad  train  of  your  funerals,  the  mourn- 
iully  nodding  hearse,  the  torch,  the  shroud, 
the  coffin  and  the  pall ;  the  frightful  solitude 
of  the  tomb,  or  the  odious  putrefaction  of  the 
grave.  At  the  sight  of  these  objects,  the 
ficsh  complains,  nature  murmurs,  religion  it- 
self seems  to  totter  and  shake  :  but  fear  not; 
your  faith,  your  faith  will  support  you.  Faith 
will  discover  those  eternal  relations  into 
which  you  are  going  to  enter  ;  the  celestial 
armies,  that  will  soon  be  your  companions; 
the  blessed  angels,  who  wait  to  receive  your 
souls  and  to  be  your  convoy  home.  Faith 
will  show  you  that  in  the  tomb  of  Jesus 
Christ  which  will  sanctify  yours ;  it  will  re» 
mind  you  of  that  blessed  death,  which  ren- 
ders yours  precious  in  the  sight  of  God ;  it 
will  assist  your  souls  to  glance  into  eternity; 
it  will  open  the  gates  of  heaven  to  you ;  it 
will  enable  3'ou  to  behold,  without  murmur- 
ing, the  earth  sinking  away  from  your  feet ; 
it  will  change  your  death-beds  into  triumphal 
chariots,  and  it  will  make  you  exclaim,  amidst 
all  the  mournful  objects  that  surround  you, 
'  O  grave  where  is  thy  victory  .'  O  death 
where  is  thy  sting  .'"     1  Cor.  xv.  55. 

My  brethren,  our  most  vehement  desires, 
our  private  studies,  our  public  labours,  our 
vows,  our  wishes,  and  our  prayers,  we  con- 
secrate to  prepare  you  for  that  great  day. 
'  For  this  cause,  I  bow  my  knees  unto  the 
Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  he 
would  grant  you,  according  to  the  riches  of 
his  glory,  to  be  strengthened  with  might  by 
his  spirit  in  the  inner  man;  that  Christ  may 
dwell  in  your  hearts  by  faith  ;  that  ye  being 
rooted  and  grounded  in  love,  may  be  able  to 
comprehend  with  all  saints,  what  is  the 
breadth,  and  lengtii,  and  depth,  and  height ; 
and  to  know  the  love  of  Christ,  which  pass- 
eth  knowledge,  that  ye  might  be  filled  witli 
all  the  fulness  of  God.  Now,  unto  him  that 
is  able  to  do  exceeding  abundantly  above 
all  that  we  ask  or  think,  according  to  the 
power  that  worketh  in  us,  unto  him  be  glory 
in  the  church  by  Christ  Jesus,  throughout  all 
ages,  world  without  end.'  Amen.  Eph.  iii. 
14.  16.    21. 


SERMON    XVI. 


THE  BIRTH  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


Isaiah,  ix.  6,  7. 

Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given;  and  the  government  shall 
be  upon  his  shoulder :  and  his  name  shall  be  called  JVonderful,  Counsellor, 
The  mi°-hty  God,  The  everlasting  Father,  The  Prince  of  Peace.  Of  the 
increase  of  his  government  and  peace  there  shall  be  no  end,  ujjon  the  throne 
of  David,  and  upon  his  kingdom,  to  order  it,  and  to  cstatjlish  it  with 
judgment  and  with  justice,  from  henceforth,  even  for  ever. 

I    ANTICIPATE    the   festival  which   the 

goodness,  or  rather  the  magnificence,  of  God 

invites  you  to  celebrate  on  Wednesday  next. 

All  nature   seems  to  take  part  in  the  memo-  , 

rable  event,  which  on  that  day  v.'e  shall  com-  . 

memorate,  I  mean  the  birth  of  the  Saviour  of; 

the  world.     Herod  turns  pale  on  his  throne  ;  j 

the  devils   tremble  in  hell ;  the  wise  men  of  j 

the  East  suspend  all  their  speculations,  and  j 

observe  no  sign  in  the  firmament,  except  that  i 

which  conducts  them  to  the  place  where  lies  I 

the   incarnate  Word,  '  God   manifest  in  the' 

flesh,'  1  Tim.  iii.  16;  an  angel  from  heaven  j 

is  the  herald  of  the  astonishing  event,  and  j 

tells  the  shepherds,  '  Behold  I  bring  you  good  j 

tidings  of  great  joy,    whicli   shall    be   to  all 

people,  for  unto  you  is  born  this  day,  in  the 

city  of  David,  a  Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the 

Lord,'  Luke  ii.  10,  11,  '  the  multitude  of  the 

heavenly  host'  eagerly  descend  to  congratu- 
late men  on  the  Words  assumption  of  mortal 

flesh,  on  his  '  dwelling  among  men,'  in  order 
to  enable  them  to  '  beliold  his  glory,  the  glo- 
ry of  the  only  begotten  of  the  Fatlier,  lull  of 
grace  and  truth,'  John  i.  14  ;  they  rnake  the 
air  resound  witli  these  acclamations,  '  Glory 
to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth  peace, 
good  will  towards  men,'  Luke  ii.  14. 

What  think  ye  ^  Does  this  festival  re- 
quire no  preparation  of  you.'  Do  you  ima- 
gine, that  you  shall  celebinte  it  as  you  ought, 
if  you  content  yourselves  with  attending  on 
a  few  discourses,  during  which,  perhaps, 
while  you  are  present  in  body,  you  may  be 
absent  in  spirit ;  or  with  laying  aside  your 
temporal  cares,  and  j^our  most  turbulent  pas- 
sions, at  the  church-gates,  in  order  to  take 
them  up  again  as  soon  as  divine  service  ends  .' 
The  king  Messiah  is  about  to  make  his  tri- 
umphant entry  among  you.  With  what 
pomp  do  the  children  of  this  world,  wlio  are 
wise,  and,  we  may  add,  magnificent,  in  their 
generation,  Luke  xvi.  8,  celebrate  the  entries 
of  their  princes .'  They  strew  the  roads  with 
flowers,  they  raise  triumphal  arches,  they 
express  their  joy  in  shouts  of  victory,  and 
in  songs  of  praise.  Come,  tiicn,  my  brethren, 
let  us  to-day  '  prepare  the  way  of  the  Lord, 
and  make  his  paths  straight,'  Matt.  iii.  3  ;  '  let 
us  be  joyful  together  before  the  Lord,  let  us 
make  a  joyful  noise  before  the  Lord  the 
King,  for  he  cometh  to  judge  the  earth,'  Ps. 
xeviii.  6.  9 ;  or,  to  speak  in  a  more  intelligi- 


ble, and  in  a  more  evangelical  manner.  Come 
ye  miserable  sinners,  laden  with  the  insup- 
portable burdens  of  your  sins  ;  come  ye  trou- 
bled consciences,  uneasy  at  the  remembrance 
of  your  many  idle  words,  many  criminal 
thoughts,  many  abominable  actions;  come 
ye  poor  mortals,  '  tossed  with  tempests  and 
not  comforted  ,'  Isa.  liv.  11,  condemned 
first  to  bear  the  infirmities  of  nature,  the  ca- 
prices of  society,  the  vicissitudes  of  age,  the 
turns  of  fortune,  and  then  the  horrors  of 
death,  and  the  frightful  night  of  the  tomb ; 
come  behold  '  The  Wonderful,  the  Counsel- 
lor, the  mighty  God,  the  everlasting  Father, 
the  Prince  of  peace  :'  take  iiim  into  your 
arms,  learn  to  to  desire  nothing  more,  when 
you  possess  him.  May  God  enable  each  of 
you,  to  say,  '  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  ser- 
vant depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen 
thy  salvation.'  Amen. 

You  have  heard  the  prophecy  on  which 
our  meditations  in  this  discourse  are  to  turn. 
'  Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is 
given  ;  and  the  government  shall  be  upon  his 
shoulder  :  and  his  name  shall  be  called  Won- 
derful, Counsellor,  The  mighty  God,  The 
everlasting  Father,  The  Prince  of  Peace.  Of 
the  increase  of  his  government  and  peace 
there  shall  be  no  end,  upon  the  throne  of  Da- 
vid, and  upon  his  kingdom,  to  order  it,  and  to 
establish  it,  with  judgment  and  witli  justice, 
from  henceforth,  even  for  ever.'  These  words 
are  more  dazzling  than  clear:  let  us  fix  their  true 
meaning ;  and,  in  order  to  ascertain  that,  let 
us  divide  this  discourse  into  two  parts. 

I.  Let  us  explain  the  prediction. 

II.  Let  us  show  its  accomplishment. 
In  the  first  part,  we  will  prove,  that  the 

propiict  had  the  Messiah  in  view  ;  and,  in 
the  second,  that  our  Jesus  has  fully  answered 
the  desirrn  of  the  prophet,  and  lias  accomplish- 
ed, in  the  most  just  and  sublime  of  all  senses, 
the  whole  prediction  :  '  Unto  us  a  child  is 
born,'  and  so  on. 

I.  Let  us  explain  the  prophet's  prediction, 
and  lot  us  fix  on  the  extraordinary  child,  to 
whom  he  gives  th.c  magnificent  titles  in  the 
text.  Indeed,  the  grandeur  of  the  titles  suffi- 
ciently determines  the  meaning  of  the  pro- 
phet ;  for  to  whom,  except  to  the  Messiah, 
can  these  appellations  belong,  '  The  Wonder- 
ful, The  Counsellor,  The  mighty  God,  The 
Prince  of  Peace,  The   everlasting   Father  .'' 


Sbr.  XVI.] 


THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 


161 


This  natnral  sense  of  the  text,  is  supported  by 
the  authority  of  an  inspired  writer,  and  what 
is,  if  not  of  any  great  weight  in  point  of  argu- 
ment, at  least  very  singular  as  an  historical 
fact,  it  is  supported  by  the  authority  of  an 
angel.  The  inspired  writer  whom  we  mean 
is  St.  Matthew,  who  manifestly  alludes  to  the 
words  of  the  text,  by  quoting  those  which 
precede  them,  which  are  connected  with 
them,  and  which  he  applies  to  the  times  of 
the  Messiah  :  for,  having  related  the  impris- 
onment of  John,  and,  in  consequence  of  that, 
the  retiring  of  Jesus  Christ  into  Galilee,  he 
adds,  that  the  divine  Saviour,  '  came  and 
dwelt  in  Capernaum,  which  is  upon  the  sea- 
coast,  in  the  borders  of  Zabulon  and  Nephtha- 
lim:  that  it  might  be  fulfilled,  which  was 
spoken  by  Esaias  the  prophet,  saying.  The 
land  of  Zabulon,  and  the  land  of  Nephthalim, 
by  the  way  of  the  sea,  beyond  Jordan,  Galilee 
of  the  Gentiles  :  the  people  which  sat  in  dark- 
ness saw  great  light ;  and  to  them  which  sat 
in  the  region  and  sliadow  of  death  light  is 
sprung  up,'  Matt.  iv.  12.  The  angel  of  whom 
I  spoke  is  Gabriel ;  who,  when  he  declared  to 
Mary  the  choice  which  God  had  made  of  her 
to  be  the  mother  of  the  Messiah,  applied  to 
her  Son  the  characters  by  which  Isaiah  des- 
cribes the  child  in  the  text,  and  paints  him  in 
the  same  colours  :  '  Thou  shalt  conceive  in 
thy  womb,  and  bring  forth  a  son,  and  shalt 
call  his  name  Jesus.  He  shall  be  great,  and 
shall  be  called  the  Son  of  the  Highest  ;  and 
the  Lord  God  shall  give  unto  him  the  throne 
of  his  father  David.  And  he  shall  reign  over 
the  house  of  Jacob  for  ever  ;  and  of  his  king- 
dom there  shall  be  no  end,'  Luke  i.  31. 

How  conclusive  soever  these  proofs  may 
appear  in  favour  of  the  sense  wc  have  given 
of  the  prophecy,  they  do  not  satisfy  this  in- 
tractable age,  which  is  always  ready  to  em- 
brace any  thing  that  seems  likely  to  enervate 
the  truths  of  religion.  Sincerity  requires  us 
to  acknowledge,  that  although  our  prophecy 
is  clear  of  itself,  yet  there  arises  some  obscu- 
rity from  the  order  in  which  it  is  placed,  and 
from  its  connexion  with  the  foregoing  and 
following  verses.  On  each  wc  will  endeav- 
our to  throw  some  light,  and,  for  this  purpose, 
we  will  go  back,  and  analyze  this,  and  the 
two  preceding  chapters. 

When  Isaiah  delivered  this  prophecy,  Ahaz 
reigned  over  the  kingdom  of  Judali,  and  Pe- 
kah,  the  son  of  Remaliah,  over  that  of  Israel. 
You  cannot  be  ignorant  of  the  mutual  jeal- 
ousy of  these  two  kingdoms.  There  is  often 
more  hatred  between  two  parties,  whose  re- 
ligion is  almost  the  same,  than  between  those 
whose  doctrines  are  in  direct  opposition. 
Each  considers  the  other  as  near  the  truth  : 
each  is  jealous  lest  the  other  should  obtain  it ; 
and,  as  it  is  more  likely  that  they,  who 
hold  the  essential  truths  of  religion,  should 
surpass  otliers  sooner  than  they  who  rase  the 
very  foundations  of  it,  the  former  are  greater 
objects  of  envy  than  the  latter.  Tiie  king- 
doms of  Israel  and  Judah  were  often  more 
envenomed  against  one  another  than  against 
foreigners.  This  was  the  case  in  the  reign  of 
Ahaz,  king  of  Judah.  Pekah,  king  of  Israel, 
to  the  shame  of  the  ten  tribes,  discovered  a 
•disposition  like  that,  which  has  sometimes 
made  the  Christian  world  blush  ;  I  mean,  that 


a  prince,  who  worshipped  the  true  God,  in 
order  to  destroy  his  brethren,  made  an  alliance 
with  an  idolater.  He  allied  himself  to  Rezin, 
a  pagan  prince,  who  reigned  over  that  part  of 
Syria,  which  constituted  the  kingdom  of  Da- 
mascus. The  kingdom  of  Judah  had  often 
yielded  to  the  forces  of  these  kings,  even 
when  each  had  separately  made  war  with  it. 
Now  they  were  united  ;  and  intended  jointly 
to  fall  on  the  Jews,  and  to  overwhelm,  rather 
than  to  besiege  Jerusalem.  Accordingly,  the 
consternation  was  so  great  in  the  holy  city, 
that,  the  Scripture  says, '  The  heart  of  Ahaz 
was  moved,  and  the  heart  of  his  people,  as 
the  trees  of  the  wood  are  moved  with  the 
wind,'  Isa.  vii.  2. 

Although  the  kingdom   of  Judah  had   too 
well  deserved  the  punishments  which  threat- 
ened it;  and  although  a  thousand  outrages, 
with  which  the  inhabitants  had  insulted  the 
Majesty    of    heaven,    seemed   to   guarantee 
their  country  to  the  enemy,  yet  God  came 
to  their  assistance.     He  was  touched,  if  not 
with  the  sincerity  of  their  repentance,  at  least 
with  the  excess  of  their  miseries.     He  com- 
manded Isaiah  to  encourage  their  hopes.   He 
even  promised    them,   not  only   that  all  the 
designs  of  their  enemies  should  be  rendered 
abortive  ;  but  that  the  two  confederate  king- 
doms, '  within  threescore  and  five  years,'  ver, 
8,  should  be   entirely  destroyed.     Moreover, 
he  gave  Ahaz  the  choice  of  a  sign  to  convince 
himself  of  the  truth  of  the  promise.     Ahaz 
was  one  of  the  most  wicked  kings  that  ever 
sat  on  the  throne  of  Judah  :  so  that  the  Scrip- 
ture   could    give  no   worse  character  of  this 
prince,  nor  describe  his  perseverance  in  sin 
more  fully,  than  by  saying  that  he  icas  always 
Jihaz*     He  refused  to  choose  a  sign,  not  be- 
cause   he  felt  one  of  those  noble    emotions, 
which  makes  a  man  submit  to  the  testimony 
of  God  without  any  more  proof  of  its  truth 
than  the  testimony  itself;  but  because  he  was 
inclined  to  infidelity   and   ingratitude  ;    and 
probably  because  he  trusted  in  his  ally,  the 
king  of  Assj^ria.  Notwithstanding  his  refusal, 
God  gave  him  signs,  and  informed  him,  that 
before   the    prophet's    two    children,    one   of 
whom  was  already  born,  and  the  other  would 
be  born  shortly,    should    arrive    at   years   of 
discretion,  the  two  confederate  kings  should 
retreat  from  Judea,  and  be  entirely  destroyed. 
Of  the    first   child,  see  what  the  seventh 
chapter  of  the  Revelations  of  our  prophet  says. 
We  are  there  told,  that  this  son   of  the  pro- 
phet Vi^as  named   Shearjashub,  that  is,  '  the 
remnant  shall  return,'  ver.  3,  a  name  expres- 
sive of  the  meaning  of  the  sign,  which  de- 
clared that  the  Jews  should  return  from  their 
rebellions,  and  that  God  would  return  from 
his  anger.     The  other  child,  then  unborn,  is 
mentioned  in  the  eighth  chapter,  where  it  is 
said  '  the  prophetess  bare  a  son,'  ver.  3. 

God  commanded  the  prophet  to  take  the 
first  child,  and  to  carry  him  to  that  pool,  of 
piece  of  water,  which  was  formed  by  the  wa- 
ters of  Siloah,  which  supplied  the  stream 
known  by  the  name  of '  The  fuller's  conduit,' 
2  Kings  xviii.  17,  and  which  was  at  the  foot 


*2Chron.  xviii.  22.  This  is  that  King  Ahaz.  Eng. 
Version.  C'estoit  toujours  le  roi  Achax.  Fr._Idem. 
erat  rex  Aehaz,  Jun,  Tremel. 


162 


THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 


[Seb.  XVI. 


of  the  eastern  wall  of  Jerusalem.  The  pro- 
phet was  ordered  to  produce  the  child  in  the 
presence  of  all  the  affrighted  people,  and  to 
say  to  them, '  Before  this  child  shall  know  to  re- 
fuse the  evil,  and  choose  the  good,  the  land  that 
thou  abliorrest  shall  he  forsaken  of  both  her 
kings,' Isa.  vii.  16.  If  this  translation  be  re- 
tained, the  I  and  signifies  the  kingdom  of  Israel, 
and  that  of  Syria,  from  which  the  enemy 
came,  and  which  on  account  of  their  coming, 
the  Jews  abhorred.  I  should  rather  render 
the  words,  the  land  for  which  thou  art  afraid, 
and  by  the  land  understand  Judea,  which  was 
then  in  a  very  dangerous  state.  But  the  pro- 
phecy began  to  be  accomplished  in  both  senses 
about  a  j'ear  after  it  was  uttered.  Tiglath 
Pileser,  king  of  Assyria,  not  only  drew  off  the 
forces  of  Rezin  and  Pekah  from  the  siege  of 
Jerusalem,  but  he  drove  them  also  from  their 
own  countries.  He  first  attacked  Damascus. 
Rezin  quitted  his  intended  conquest,  and  re- 
turned to  defend  his  capital,  where  he  was 
slain  ;  and  all  his  people  were  carried  into 
captivity,  2  Kings  xvi.  9.  Tiglath  Pileser 
then  marched  into  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  and 
victory  marched  along  with  him  at  the  head 
of  his  army,  1  Chron.  v.  2G.  He  subdued  the 
tribes  of  Reuben  and  Gad,  and  the  half  tribe 
of  Manasseh,  all  the  inhabitants  of  Galilee, 
and  the  tribe  of  Nephthalini,  and  carried 
them  captives  beyond  Euphrates;  and  sixty- 
five  years  after,  that  is,  sixt3'-five  years  after 
the  prediction  of  the  total  ruin  of  the  kingdom 
of  Israel  by  the  prophet  Amos,  the  prophecy 
was  fulfilled  by  Salmanassar,  chap.  vii.  11, 
according  to  the  language  of  our  prophet, 
*  within  threescoie  and  five  years  shall 
Ephraim  be  broken,  that  it  be  not  a  people,' 
Isa.  vii.  8.  Thus  was  this  prophecy  accom- 
plished, '  before  this  child  shall  know  to  re- 
fuse the  evil,  and  choose  the  good,  the  land, 
for  which  thou  art  afraid,  shall  be  forsaken  of 
both  her  kings.' 

God  determined  that  the  prophet's  second 
child  should  also  be  a  sign  of  the  truth  off  he 
same  promise.  He  assured  Isaiah,  that  be- 
fore the  child,  who  should  shortly  be  born, 
could  learn  to  articulate  the  first  sounds, 
which  children  vrerc  taught  to  pronounce  ; 
'before  the  child  should  have  knowledge  to 
cry.  My  father,  and  iny  mother,  the  riches  of 
Damascus,  and  the  spoil  of  Samaria,  that  is, 
of  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  should  be  taken 
away  by  the  king  of  Assyria,'  chap.  viii.  4. 
This  is  the  same  promise  coniirmed  by  a  sec- 
ond sign.  God  usually  gives  more  than  one, 
when  he  confirms  any  very  interesting  pre- 
diction, as  we  see  in  the  history  of  Pharaoh, 
and  the  patriarch  Joseph,  Gen.  xli.  1,  &c. 

But  as  all  the  mercies  that  were  bestowed  on 
the  Jews,  from  the  time  of  Abraham,  were 
grounded  on  the  covenant  which  God  had 
made  with  that  patriarch,  their  common  father 
and  head  ;  or  rather,  as,  since  the  fall,  men 
could  expect  no  favour  of  God  but  in  virtue 
of  the  Mediator  of  the  church;  it  is  general- 
ly to  be  observed  in  the  prophecies,  that 
when  God  gave  them  a  promise,  he  directed 
their  attention  to  this  grand  object.  Either 
the  idea  of  the  covenant,  or  the  idea  of  the 
Mediator,  was  a  seal,  which  God  put  to  his 
promises,  and  a  bar  against  the  unbelief  and 
distrust  of  his  people.     Every  thing  might  be 


expected  from  a  God,  whoso  goodness  was  so 
infinite,  as  to  prepare  such  a  noble  victim  for 
the  salvation  of  mankind.  He,  who  would 
confine  Satan  in  everlasting  chains,  and  van- 
quish sin  and  death,  was  fully  able  to  deliver  J 
his  people  from  the  incursions  of  Rezin,  and  | 
Pekah,  Ihe  son  of  Remaliah.  To  remove  the  ' 
present  fears  of  the  Jews,  Gcd  reminds  them 
of  the  wonders  of  his  love,  which  he  had  pro- 
mised to  display  in  favour  of  his  church  in 
ages  to  come  :  and  commands  his  prophet  to 
say  to  them,  'Ye  trembling  leaves  of  the 
wood,  shaken  with  every  wind,  peace  be  to 
you  I  Ye  timorous  Jews,  cease  your  fears  ! 
let  not  the  greatness  of  this  temporal  deliv- 
erance, which  I  now  premise  you,  excite  your 
doubts !  God  has  favours  incompaiably 
greater  in  store  for  you,  they  shall  be  your 
guarantees  for  those  which  ye  are  afraid  to 
expect.  Ye  are  in  covenant  with  God.  Ye 
have  a  right  to  expect  those  displays  of  his 
love  in  3'our  favour,  which  are  least  credible. 
Remember  the  blessed  seed,  which  he  pro- 
mised to  your  ancestors.  Gen.  xxii.  18.  '  Be- 
hold !  a  virgin  shall  conceive  and  bear  a  son, 
and  call  his  name  Immanuel,' Isa.  vii.  14.  The 
spirit  of  prophecy,  that  animates  me,  enables 
me  to  penetrate  through  all  the  ages  that  sep- 
erate  the  present  moment  from  that  in  which 
the  promise  shall  be  fulfilled.  I  see  the  di- 
vine child,  my  '  faith  the  substance  of  things 
hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen.' 
Heb.  xi.  1,  and  grounded  on  the  word  of  that 
God,  '  who  changeth  not,'  Mai.  iii.  6,  who  'is 
not  a  man  that  he  should  lie,  neither  the  son 
of  man  that  he  should  repent,' Numb,  xxiii.  19, 
I  dare  speak  of  a  miracle,  which  will  be 
wrought  eight  hundred  years  hence,  as  if  it 
had  been  wrought  to  day,  '  Unto  us  a  child  is 
born,  unto  us  a  child  is  given,  and  the  govern- 
ment shall  be  upon  his  shoulder :  and  his 
name  shall  be  called.  Wonderful,  Counsellor, 
The  mighty^God,  The  everlasting  Father,The 
Prince  of  Peace.' 

This,  my  brethren,  is  the  prophet's  scope 
in  the  three  chapters  which  we  have  analyzed, 
and  particularly  in  the  text.  But  if  any  one 
of  you  receive  our  exposition  without  any 
farther  discussion,  he  will  discover  more  do- 
cility than  we  require,  and  he  would  betray 
his  credulity  without  proving  his  conviction. 
How  often  docs  a  commentator  substitute  his 
own  opinions  for  those  of  his  author,  and,  by 
forging,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak  so,  a 
new  text,  eludes  the  difficulties  of  that  which 
he  ought  to  explain .'  Let  us  act  more  ingen- 
uously. There  are  two  difficulties,  which  at- 
tend our  comment ,  one  is  a  particular,  the 
other  is  a  general  difficulty. 

The  particular  difliculty  is  this  :  we  have 
supposed,  that  the  mysterious  child,  spoken 
of  in  our  te.xt,  is  the  same  of  whom  the  pro- 
phet speaks,  when  he  says,  'A  virgin  shall 
conceive  and  bear  a  son,  and  shall  call  his 
name  Immanuel ;'  and  that  this  child  is  dif- 
ferent from  that  whom  Isaiah  gave  for  a  sign 
of  the  present  temporal  deliverance,  and  of 
whom  it  is  said,  '  Before  the  child  shall  know 
to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose  the  good,  the 
land  that  thou  abhorrest  shall  be  forsaken  of 
both  her  kings.'  This  supposition  does  not 
seem  to  agree  with  the  text ;  read  the  follow- 
ing verses,  which  are  taken  from  chap.  vii. 


Sbb.  XVI.] 


THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 


163 


'  Behold  !  a  virgin  Bhall  conceive,  and  bear  a 
son,  and  shall  call  his  name  Jmmanuel :  But- 
ter and  honey  shall  he  eat,  that  he  may  know 
to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose  the  good.  But 
before  the  child  shall  know  to  refuse  the  evil 
and  choose  the  good,  the  land  that  thou  ab- 
horrest  shall  be  forsaken  of  both  her  kings,' 
ver.  14 — 16.  Do  not  the  last  words,  '  before 
the  child  shall  know  to  refuse  tlie  evil  and 
choose  the  good,'  seem  to  belong  to  the 
words  which  immediately  precede  them, 
'  Behold  !  a  virgin  shall  conceive  and  bear  a 
eon .''  Immanuel,  then,  who  was  to  be  born  of 
a  virgin,  could  not  be  the  Messiah  ;  the  pro- 
phet must  mean  the  child,  of  whom  he  said, 
'  Before  he  know  to  refuse  the  evil  and  choose 
the  good,'  Judea  shall  be  delivered  from  the 
'two  confederate  kings. 

How  indissoluble  soever  this  objection  may 
appear,  it  is  only  an  apparent  difficulty,  and 
it  lies  less  in  the  nature  of  the  thing  than  in 
the  arrangement  of  the  terms.  Represent  to 
yourselves  the  prophet  executing  the  order 
which  God  had  given  him,  as  the  third  verse 
of  the  seventh  chapter  relates  ;  '  Go  forth  now 
to  meet  Aliaz,  thou,  and  Shearjashub  thy  son, 
at  the  end  of  the  conduit  of  the  upper  pool.' 
Imagine  Isaiah,  in  the  presence  of  the  Jews, 
holding  his  son  Shearjashub  in  his  arms,  and 
addressing  them  in  this  manner ;  the  token 
that  God  gives  you,  of  your  present  deliver- 
ance, that  he  is  still  your  God,  and  that  ye 
are  still  his  covenant  people,  is  the  renewal 
of  the  promise  to  you  which  he  made  to  your 
ancestors  concerning  the  Messiah ;  to  con- 
vince you  of  the  truth  of  what  I  assert,  I  dis- 
charge my  commission,  '  Behold  !  a  virgin 
shall  conceive,  and  bear  a  son,  and  shall  call 
his  name  Immanuel,'  that  is,  God  loith  us. 
He  shall  be  brought  up  like  the  children  of 
men,  '  butter  and  honey  shall  he  eat,  until  he 
know  to  refuse  the  evil,  and  choose  the  good,' 
that  is,  until  he  arrive  at  years  of  matu- 
rity. In  virtue  of  this  promise,  which  will 
not  be  ratified  till  some  ages  have  expired, 
behold  what  I  promise  you  now  ;  before  the 
child,  not  before  the  child,  whom  I  said  just 
now,  a  virgin  should  bear ;  but  before  the 
child  in  my  arms  (the  phrase  may  be  render- 
ed before  this  child),  before  Shearjashub, 
whom  I  now  lift  up,  '  shall  know  to  refuse  the 
evil,  and  choose  the  good,  the  land,  for  which 

i^e  are  in  trouble,  sliall  be  forsaken  of  both 
ler  kings.'  You  see,  my  brethren,  the  child, 
whom,  the  prophet  said,  'a  virgin  should 
conceive,'  could  not  be  Shearjashub,  who  was 
actually  present  in  his  father's  arms.  The  dif- 
ficulty, therefore,  is  only  apparent,  and,  as  I 
observed  before,  it  lay  in  the  arrangement  of 
the  terms,  and  not  in  the  nature  of  the  thing. 
This  is  our  answer  to  what  I  called  a  partic- 
ular difficulty. 

A  general  objection  may  be  made  against 
the  manner  iu  which  we  have  explained  these 
chapters,  and  in  which,  in  general,  we  explain 
other  prophecies.  Allow  me  to  state  this  ob- 
jection in  all  its  force,  and,  if  I  may  use  the  ex- 
pression, in  all  its  enormity,  in  order  to  show 
you,  in  the  end,  all  its  levity  and  folly. 

The  odious  objection  is  this  ;  an  unbeliever 
would  say,  the  three  chapters  of  Isaiah,  of 
which  you  have  given  an  arbitrary  analysis, 
are  equivocal  and  obscure,  like  the  greatest 


part  of  those  compilations,  which  compose 
the  book  of  the  visionary  flights  of  this  pro- 
phet, and  like  all  the  writings,  that  are  called 
predictiujis,  prophecies,  revelations.  Obscu- 
rity is  the  grand  character  of  them,  even  in 
the  opinion  of  those  who  have  given  sublime 
and  curious  explanations  of  them.  They  are 
capable  of  several  senses.  Who  has  received 
authority  to  develop  those  ambiguous  writings, 
to  determine  the  true  meaning,  among  the 
many  different  ideas  which  they  excite  in  the 
reader,  and  to  each  of  which  the  terms  are 
alike  applicable  .'  During  seventeen  centuries, 
Christians  have  racked  their  invention  to  put 
a  sense  on  the  writings  of  the  prophets  advan- 
tageous to  Christianity,  and  the  greatest  ge- 
niuses have  endeavoured  to  interpret  them  in 
favour  of  the  Christian  religion.  Men,  who 
have  been  famous  for  their  erudition  and 
knowledge,  have  taken  the  most  laborious 
pains  to  methodize  these  writings  ;  one  gene- 
ration of  great  men  have  succeeded  another 
in  the  undertaking  ;  is  it  astonishing  that 
some  degree  of  success  has  attended  their  la- 
bours, and  that,  by  dint  of  indefatigable  in- 
dustry, they  have  rendered  those  prophecies 
venerable,  which  would  have  been  accounted 
dark  and  void  of  design,  if  less  pains  had  been 
taken  to  adapt  a  design,  and  less  violence  had 
been  used  in  arranging  them  in  order. 

This  is  the  objection  in  all  its  force,  and,  as 
I  said  before,  in  all  its  enormity.  Let  us  in- 
quire whether  we  can  give  a  solution  propor- 
tional to  this  boasted  objection  of  infidelity. 
Our  answer  will  be  comprised  in  a  chain  of 
propositions,  which  will  guard  you  against 
those  who  find  mystical  meanings  where 
there  are  none,  as  well  as  against  those  who 
disown  them  where  they  are.  To  these 
purposes  attend  to  the  following  proposi- 
tions ; — 

1.  They  were  not  the  men  of  our  age  who 
forged  the  book,  in  which,  we  imagine,  we 
discover  such  profound  knowledge  ;  we  know, 
it  is  a  book  of  the  most  venerable  antiquity, 
and  we  can  demonstrate,  that  it  is  the  most 
ancient  book  in  the  world. 

2.  This  venerable  antiquity,  however,  is 
not  the  chief  ground  of  our  admiration:  the 
benevolence  of  its  design  ;  the  grandeur  of  its 
ideas  ;  tlie  sublimity  of  its  doctrines  ;  the  ho- 
liness of  its  precepts  ;  are,  according  to  our 
notion  of  things,  if  not  absolute  proofs  of  its 
divinity,  at  least  advantageous  presumptions 
in  its  favour. 

3.  Among  divers  truths  which  it  contains, 
and  which  it  may  be  supposed  some  superior 
geniuses  might  have  discovered,  I  meet  with 
some,  the  attainment  of  which  I  cannot  rea- 
sonably attribute  to  the  human  mind  :  of  this 
kind  are  some  predictions,  obscure  I  grant,  to 
those  to  whom  they  were  first  delivered,  but 
rendered  very  clear  since  by  the  events.  Such 
are  these  two,  among  many  others.  The 
people,  who  are  in  covenant  with  God,  shall 
be  excluded ;  and  people  who  are  not  shall 
be  admitted.  I  see  the  accomplishment  of 
these  predictions  with  my  own  eyes,  in  the 
rejection  of  the  Jews,  and  in  the  calling  of 
the  gentiles. 

4.  The  superior  characters  which  signalize 
these  books,  give  them  the  right  of  being  rays 
terious  in  some  places,  without  exposing  them 


164 


THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 


[Sbb.  XVI. 


to  the  charge  of  being  equivocal,  or  void  of 
meaning  ;  for  eome  works  have  acquired  this 
tight.  When  an  author  has  given  full  proof 
of  his  capacity  in  some  propositions,  vvhich 
are  clear  and  intelligible  ;  and  when  he  ex- 
presses himself,  in  other  places,  in  a  manner 
obscure,  and  hard  to  be  understood,  he  is  not 
to  be  taxed,  all  on  a  sudden  with  writing  irra- 
tionally. A  meaning  is  to  be  sought  m  his 
expressions.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  that 
geniuses  of  the  highest  order  sink  at  once  be- 
Seneath  the  lowest  minds.  Why  do  we  not 
entertain  such  notions  of  our  prophets  .''  Why 
is  not  the  same  justice  due  to  the  extraordi- 
nary men,  whose  respectable  writings  we  are 
pleading  for,  to  our  Isaiahs,  and  Jeremiahs, 
which  is  allowed  to  Juvenal  and  Virgil  ? 
What !  shall  some  pretty  thought  of  the  lat- 
ter, shall  some  ingenious  stroke  of  the  for- 
mer, conciliate  more  respect  to  them,  than 
the  noble  sentiments  of  God,  the  sublime 
doctrines,  and  the  virtuous  precepts  of  the 
holy  Scriptures,  can  obtain  for  the  writers  of 
the  Bible .' 

5.  We  do  not  pretend,  however,  to  abuse 
that  respect,  which  it  would  be  unjust  to 
withhold  from  our  authors.  We  do  not  pre- 
tend to  say  that  every  other  obscure  passage 
contains  a  mystery,  or  that,  whenever  a  pas- 
sage appears  unintelligible,  we  have  a  right 
to  explain  it  in  favour  of  the  doctrine  which  we 
profess  ;  but  we  think  it  right  to  consider  any 
passage  in  these  books  prophetical  when  it 
nas  the  three  following  marks. 

The  first  is  the  inivfficitnc]/  of  the  literal 
meaning.  I  mean,  a  text  must  be  accounted 
prophetical,  when  it  cannot  be  applied,  with- 
out offering  violence  to  the  language,  to  any 
event  that  fell  out  when  it  was  spoken,  or 
any  then  present  or  past  object. 

2.  The  second  character  of  a  prophecy,  is 
ail  infallible  commentary .  I  mean,  when  an 
author  of  acknowledged  authority  gives  a  pro- 
phetical sense  to  a  passage  under  considera- 
tion, we  ought  to  submit  to  his  authority  and 
adopt  his  meaning. 

3.  The  last  character  is  a  perfect  conformi- 
ty between  the  j>rediction  and  the  event.  I 
mean  when  prophecies,  compared  with 
events,  appear  to  have  been  completely  ac- 
complished, several  ages  after  tliey  had  been 
promulged,  it  cannot  be  fairly  urged  that  the 
conformity  was  a  lucky  hit :  but  it  ought  to 
be  acknowledged,  that  the  prophecy  proceed- 
ed from  God,  who,  being  alone  capable  of 
foreseeing  what  would  happen,  was  alone  ca- 
pable of  foretelling  the  event,  in  a  manner  so 
Circumstantial  and  exact.  All  these  charac- 
ters unite  in  favour  of  the  text  which  we 
have  been  explaining,  and  in  favour  of  the 
three  chapters  which  we  have  in  general  ex- 
pounded. 

The  first  character,  that  is,  the  insufficien- 
cy of  a  literal  sense,  agrees  with  our  explica- 
tion. Let  any  event  in  the  time  of  Isaiah 
be  named,  any  child  born  then,  or  soon  after, 
of  whom  the  prophet  could  reasonably  afhrm 
what  he  does  in  our  text,  and  in  the  other 
verse  which  we  have  connected  with  it. 
'  A  virgin  shall  conceive  and  bear  a  son,  and 
shall  call  his  name  Immanuel.  Unto  us  a 
child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given ;  and  i 
the  government  shall  be  upon  his  shoulder :  I 


his  name  shall  be  called  Wonderful,  Coun- 
sellor, The  mighty  God,  The  everlasting 
Father,  The  Prince  of  Peace.' 

The  second  distinguishing  mark,  that  is, 
an  infallible  commentary,  agrees  with  our 
explication.  Our  evangelists  and  apostles, 
those  venerable  men,  whose  mission  comes 
recommended  to  us  by  the  most  glorious 
miracles,  by  the  healing  of  the  sick,  by  the 
expulsion  of  demons,  by  the  raising  of  the 
dead,  by  a  general  subversion  of  all  nature, 
our  evangelists  and  apostles  took  these  pas- 
sages in  the  same  sense  in  which  we  take 
them,  they  understood  them  of  the  Messiah, 
as  we  have  observed  before. 

The  third  character,  that  is,  a  perfect  con- 
formity between  event  and  prediction, 
agrees  also  with  our  explication.  We  actu- 
ally find  a  child,  some  ages  after  the  time  of 
Isaiah,  who  exactly  answers  the  description 
of  him  of  whom  the  prophet  spoke.  The 
features  are  similar,  and  we  own  the  like- 
ness. Our  Jesus  was  really  born  of  a  vir- 
gin :  he  was  truly  Immanuel,  God  with  us : 
in  him  are  really  united,  all  the  titles,  and  all 
the  perfections,  of  the  '  Wonderful,  The 
Counsellor,  The  mighty  God,  the  everlast- 
ing Father ;'  as  we  will  presently  prove. 
Can  we  help  giving  a  mysterious  meaning  to 
these  passages.'  Can  we  refuse  to  acknow- 
ledge, that  the  prophet  intended  to  speak  of 
the  Messiah  ?  These  are  the  steps,  and  this 
is  the  end  of  our  meditation  in  favour  of  the 
mystical  sense,  which  we  have  ascribed  to 
the  words  of  the  text. 

Would  to  God  the  enemies  of  our  mysteries 
would  open  their  eyes  to  these  objects,  and 
examine  the  weight  of  these  arguments! 
Would  to  God  a  love,  I  had  almost  said  a 
rage,  for  independency,  for  a  system  that  in- 
dulges, and  inflames  the  passions,  had  not 
put  some  people  on  opposing  these  proofs  ! 
Infidelity  and  skepticism  would  have  made 
less  havoc  among  us,  and  would  not  have  de- 
coyed away  so  many  disciples  from  truth  and 
virtue  !  And  would  to  God  also,  Christian 
ministers  would  never  attempt  to  attack  the 
systems  of  infidels  and  skeptics  without  the 
armour  of  demonstration  !  Would  to  God 
love  of  the  marvellous  may  no  more  dazzle 
the  imaginations  of  those  who  ought  to  be 
guided  by  truth  alone  .'  And  would  to  God 
the  simplicity  and  the  superstition  of  the 
people  ma}'  never  more  contribute  to  support 
that  authority,  which  some  rash  and  dogma- 
tical geniuses  usurp  !  Truth  should  not  bor- 
row the  arms  of  falsehood  to  defend  itself; 
nor  virtue  those  of  vice.  Advantages  should 
not  be  given  to  unbelievers  and  heretics,  un- 
der pretence  of  opposing  heresy  and  unbelief. 
We  should  render  to  God  '  a  reasonable  ser- 
vice,' Rom.  xii.  1,  we  should  be  all  spiritual 
men,  judging  all  things,'  1  Cor.  ii.  15,  ac- 
cording to  the  expression  of  the  apostle.  But 
I  add  no  more  on  this  article. 

Hitherto  we  have  spoken,  if  I  may  say  so, 
to  reason  only,  it  is  time  now  to  speak  to 
conscience.  We  have  been  preaching  by  ar- 
guments and  syllogisms  to  the  understand- 
ing, it  is  time  now  to  preach  by  sentiments 
to  the  heart.  Religion  is  not  made  for  the 
mind  alone,  it  is  particularly  addressed  to 
the  heart,  and  to  the  heart   I  would  prove, 


Sbr.  XVI.] 


THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 


165 


that  our  Jesus  lias  accomplished,  in  the  most 
sublime  of  all  senses,  this  prophecy  in  the 
text  '  Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son 
is  given,'  and  so  on.  This  is  our  second 
part. 

II.  The  terms  throne,  kingdom,  govern- 
ment, are  metaphorical,  when  they  are  ap- 
plied to  God,  to  his  Messiah,  to  the  end, 
which  religion  proposes,  and  to  the  felicity 
which  it  procures.  They  are  very  imperfect, 
and  if  I  may  venture  to  say  so,  very  low  and 
mean,  when  they  are  used  to  represent  ob- 
jects of  such  infinite  grandeur.  No,  there 
is  nothing  sufficiently  noble  in  the  characters 
of  the  greatest  kings,  nothing  wise  enough 
in  their  maxims,  nothing  gentle  enough  in 
their  government,  nothing  pompous  enough 
in  their  courts,  nothing  sufficiently  glorious 
in  their  achievements,  to  represent  fully  the 
grandeur  and  the  glory  of  our  Messiah. 

Who  is  a  king  ?  What  is  a  throne  ?  Why 
have  we  masters  .-"  Why  is  sovereign  power 
lodged  in  a  few  hands  ?  And  what  deter- 
mines mankind  to  lay  aside  their  indepen- 
dence, and  to  lose  their  beloved  liberty  .''  The 
whole  implies,  my  brethren,  some  mortifying 
truths.  We  have  not  knowledge  sufficient 
to  guide  ourselves,  and  we  need  minds  wiser 
than  our  own  to  inspect  and  to  direct  our 
conduct.  We  are  indigent,  and  superior 
beings  must  supply  our  wants.  We  have 
enemies,  and  we  must  have  guardians  to 
protect  us. 

Miserable  men  !  liow  have  you  been  de- 
ceived in  your  expectations  .''  what  disorders 
could  anarchy  have  produced  greater  than 
those  which  have  sometimes  proceeded  from 
sovereign  authority  ?  You  sought  guides  to 
direct  you :  but  you  have  sometimes  fallen 
under  the  tuition  of  men  who,  far  from  be- 
ing able  to  conduct  a  whole  people,  knew  not 
how  to  guide  themselves.  You  sought  nurs- 
ing fathers,  to  succour  you  in  your  indi- 
gence :  but  you  have  fallen  sometimes  into 
the  hands  of  men,  who  had  no  other  designs 
than  to  impoverish  their  people,  to  enrich 
themselves  with  the  substance,  and  to  fatten 
themselves  with  the  blood,  of  their  subjects. 
You  sought  guardians  to  protect  you  from 
your  enemies  :  but  you  have  sometimes  found 
executioners,  who  have  used  you  with  great- 
er barbarity  than  your  most  bloody  enemies 
would  have  done. 

But  all  these  melancholy  truths  apart ;  sup- 
pose the  fine  notions,  which  we  form  of  kings 
and  of  royalty,  of  sovereign  power  and  of  the 
hands  that  hold  it,  were  realized':  how  inca- 
pable are  kings,  and  how  inadequate  is  their 
government,  to  the  relief  of  the  innumera- 
ble wants  of  an  immortal  soul  I  Suppose 
kings  of  the  most  tender  sentiments,  formida- 
ble in  their  armies,  and  abundant  in  their 
treasuries  ;  could  they  heal  tlie  maladies  tliat 
afflict  us  here,  or  could  they  quench  our  pain- 
ful thirst  for  felicity  hereafter  .''  Ye  Cesars  ! 
Ye  Alexanders !  Ye  Trajans!  Ye  who  were, 
some  of  you,  like  Titus,  the  parents  of  your 
people,  and  the  delights  of  mankind !  Ye 
thunderbolts  of  war  1  Ye  idols  of  the  world! 
What  does  all  your  pomp  avail  me  ?  Of 
what  use  to  me,  are  all  your  personal  qualifi- 
cations, and  all  your  regal  magnificence  .' 
Can  you ; — Can  thoy,  dissipate  the  darkness 


that  envelops  me  ;  cahn  the  conscience  that 
accuses  and  torments  me  ;  reconcile  me  to 
God  ;  free  me  from  the  control  of  my  com- 
manding and  tyrannical  passions ;  deliver 
me  from  death  ;  and  discover  immortal  hap- 
piness to  me  .''  Ye  earthly  gods  !  ignorant  and 
wretched  like  me  ;  objects  like  me  of  the 
displeasure  of  God  ;  like  me  exposed  to  the 
miseries  of  life;  slaves  to  your  passions  like 
me ;  condemned  like  me  to  that  frightful 
night  in  which  death  involves  all  mankind ; 
ye  can  relieve  neither  your  own  miseries  nor 
mine  ! 

Show  me  a  government  that  supplies  these 
wants  :  that  is  the  empire  I  seek.  Show  me 
a  king,  who  will  conduct  me  to  the  felicity 
to  which  I  aspire:  such  a  king  I  long  to 
obey.  My  brethren,  this  empire  we  are 
preaching  to  you:  such  a  king  is  the  king  Mes- 
siah. '  Unto  us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son 
is  given,  the  government  shall  be  upon  his 
shoulder,  and  his  name  shall  be  called  Won- 
derful,' because  he  is  the  substance  and 
the  centre,  of  all  the  wondrous  works  of 
God. 

But  purify  your  imaginations,  and  do  not 
always  judge  of  man  as  if  he  were  a  being 
destitute  of  reason  and  intelligence.  When 
we  speak  of  man,  do  not  conceive  of  a  be- 
ing of  this  present  world  only  ;  a  creature  ■ 
placed  for  a  few  days  in  human  society, 
wanting  nothing  but  food  and  raiment,  and 
the  comforts  of  a  temporal  life  :  but  attend  to 
your  own  heaits.  In  the  sad  circumstances 
into  which  sin  has  brought  you,  what  are 
your  most  important  wants  .''  We  have  al- 
ready insinuated  them.  You  need  know- 
ledge ;  you  need  reconciliation  with  God ; 
you  want  support  through  all  the  miseries 
of  life ;  and  you  need  consolation  against 
the  fear  of  death.  Well!  all  these  wants 
the  king  Messiah  supplies.  I  am  going  to 
prove  it,  but  I  conjure  you  at  the  same  time, 
not  only  to  believe,  but  to  act.  I  would,  by 
publishing  the  design  of  the  Saviour's  incar- 
nation, engage  you  to  concur  in  it.  By  ex- 
plaining to  you  the  nature  of  his  empire,  I 
would  fain  teach  you  the  duties  of  his  sub- 
jects. By  celebrating  the  glory  of  the  king' 
Messiah,  I  long  to  see  it  displayed  among  you 
in  all  its  splendid  magnificence. 

You  want  hnoioledge :  you  will  find  it  in 
the  king  Messiah.  He  is  the  Counsellor, 
He  is  the  '  True  light,  which  lighteth  every 
man  that  cometh  into  the  world,'  John  i.  9. 
'  In  him  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom 
and  knowledge,'  Col.  ii.  3.  '  The  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  God  is  upon  him,  the  Lord  hath  an- 
ointed him  to  preach  good  tidings  unto  the 
meek,'  Isa.  Ixi.  1.  Tiie  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
rests  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,'  chap.  xi.  2.  He  has  'the 
tongue  of  the  learned,'  chap.  1.  4,  and  the 
wisdom  of  the  wise.  Ask  him  to  explain  to 
you  the  grand  appearances  of  nature,  which 
exercise  the  speculations  of  the  most  tran- 
scendant  geniuses,  and  absorb  their  defective 
reason,  and  all  his  answers  will  discover  the 
most  profound  and  perfect  knowledge  of 
them.  Inquire  of  him  whence  all  the  visible 
Creation  came,  the  luminaries  of  heaven,  and 


166 


THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 


[Ser.  .XVI. 


the  magnificent  treasures  of  the  earth.  Ask 
him  to  reveal  to  you  the  '  God,  who  hideth 
himself,'  Isa.  xlv.  15.  Ask  him  the  cause  of 
those  endless  disorders,  which  mix  with  that 
profusion  of  wisdom  which  appears  in  the 
world.  Ask  him  whence  the  blessings  come 
which  we  enjoy,  and  whence  the  calamities 
that  afflict  us.  Ask  him  what  is  the  origin, 
the  nature,  the  destiny,  the  end  of  man.  Of 
all  these  articles,  the  Counsellor  will  tell  you 
more  than  Plato,  and  Socrates,  and  all  the 
philosophers,  who  only  felt  after  the  truth, 
Acts  xvii.  27,  who  themselves  discovered  and 
taught  others  to  see  only  a  few  rays  of  light, 
darkened  with  prejudices  and  errors. 

This  is  the  first  idea  of  the  king  Messiah  ; 
this  is  the  first  source  of  the  duties  of  his  sub- 
jects, and  of  the  dispositions  with  which  they 
ought  to  celebrate  his  nativity,  and  with 
which  alone  they  can  celebrate  it  in  a  proper 
manner.  To  celebrate  properly  the  festival 
of  his  nativity,  truth  must  be  esteemed  ;  we 
must  be  desirous  of  attaining  knowledge  ; 
we  must  come  from  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
like  the  wise  men  of  the  East,  to  contemplate 
the  miracles  whicli  the  Messiah  displays  in 
the  new  world  :  like  Mary,  we  must  be  all  at- 
tention to  receive  the  doctrine  that  proceeds 
from  his  sacred  mouth  ;  like  the  multitude, 
we  must  follow  him  into  deserts  and  moun- 
tains, to  hear  his  admirable  sermons.  This 
is  the  first  duty,  which  the  festival  that  you 
are  to  celebrate  next  Wednesday  demands. 
Prepare  yourselves  to  keep  it  in  >this  manner. 

You  want  reconciliation  with.  God,  and  this 
is  the  grand  work  of  the  king  Messiah.  He 
is  the  Prince  of  Peace.  He  terminates  the  fatal 
war  which  sin  has  kindled  between  God  and 
you,  by  obtaining  the  pardon  of  your  past  sins, 
and  by  enabling  you  to  avoid  the  commission 
of  sin  for  the  future.  He  obtains  the  pardon 
of  sins  past  for  you.  How  can  a  merciful 
God  resist  the  ardent  prayers  which  the  Re- 
deemer of  mankind  addresses  to  him,  in  be- 
half of  those  poor  sinners  for  whom  he  sacri- 
ficed himself?  How  can  a  merciful  God  resist 
the  plea  of  the  blood  of  his  Son,  which  cries 
for  mercy  for  the  miserable  posterity  of 
Adam .'  As  the  king  Messiah  reconciles  you 
to  God,  by  obtaining  the  pardon  of  your  past 
sin,  so  he  reconciles  you,  by  procuring 
strength  to  enable  you  to  avoid  it  for  time  to 
come.  Having  calmed  those  passions  which 
prevented  your  knowing  what  was  right,  and 

Jrour  loving  what  was  lovely,  he  gave  you 
aws  of  equity  and  love.  How  can  you  resist, 
after  you  have  known  liim,  the  motives  on 
which  his  laws  are  founded.'  Every  difliculty 
disappears,  when  examples  so  alluring  are 
seen,  and  when  you  are  permitted,  under  your 
most  discouraging  weaknesses,  to  approach 
the  treasures  of  grace,  which  he  has  opened  to 
voM,  and  to  derive  purity  from  its  source. 
Dogs  gratitude  know  any  difficulties  ?  Is  not 
every  act  of  obedience  easy  to  a  mind  anima- 
ted by  a  love  as  vehement  as  that,  which  can- 
not but  be  felt  for  a  Saviour,  who  in  the  ten- 
derest  manner  has  loved  us  .'' 

This  is  the  second  idea  of  the  king  Messiah, 
this  is  the  second  source  of  the  duties  of  his 
subjects,  and  of  the  dispositions  essential  to  a 
worthy  celebration  of  the  feast  of  his  nativity. 
Come  next  Wednesday,  deeply  sensible  of  the 


danger  of  having  that  God  for  your  enemy, 
who  holds  your  destiny  in  his  mighty  hands, 
and  whose  commands  all  creatures  obey. 
Come  with  an  eager  desire  of  reconciliation 
to  him.  Come  and  hear  the  voice  of  the 
Prince  of  Peace,  who  publishes  peace  ; 
'  peace  to  him  that  is  near,  and  to  him  that  is 
far  off,'  Isa.  Ivii.  ID.  While  Moses  is  media- 
tor of  a  covenant  between  God  and  the  Israel- 
ites on  the  top  of  the  holy  mountain,  let  not 
Israel  violate  the  capital  article  at  the  foot  of 
it.  While  Jesus  Christ  is  descending  to  re- 
concile you  to  God,  do  not  declare  war  againSt 
God ;  insult  him  not  by  voluntary  rebellions, 
after  he  has  voluntarily  delivered  you  from 
the  slavery  of  sin,  under  which  you  groaned. 
Return  not  again  to  those  sins  which  '  sepa- 
rated between  you  and  your  God,'  Isa.  lix, 
2,  an  1  which  would  do  it  again,  though  Jesus 
should  become  incarnate  again,  and  should  of- 
fer himself  every  day  to  expiate  them. 

You  need  svpport  under  the  calamities  of 
this  life,  and  this  also  you  will  find  in  the 
king  Messiah.  He  is  the  miohtv  god,  and 
he  will  tell  you,  while  you  arc  suffering  the 
heaviest  temporal  afflictions,  '  although  the 
mountains  shall  depart,  and  the  hills  be  re- 
moved, yet  my  kindness  shall  not  de]»art  from 
you,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace 
be  removed,'  chap.  liv.  10.  Under  your  seve- 
rest tribulations,  he  will  assure  you,  that '  all 
things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that 
love  God,'  Rom.  viii.  28.  He  will  teach  you 
to  shout  victory  under  an  apparent  defeat, 
and  to  sing  this  triumphant  song,  '  Thanks  be 
unto  God,  who  always  causeth  us  to  triumph 
in  Christ,'  2  Cor.  ii.  14.  '  In  all  these  things 
we  are  more  than  conquerors,  through  him 
who  loved  us,'  Rom.  viii.  37. 

This  is  the  third  idea  of  the  king  Messiah 
and  this  is  the  third  source  of  the  duties  of 
his  subjects,  and  of  the  dispositions  which 
are  necessary  to  the  worthily  celebrating  of 
the  festival  of  his  nativity.  Fall  in,  Christian 
soul !  with  the  design  of  thy  Saviour,  who,  by 
elevating  thy  desires  above  the  world,  would 
elevate  thee  above  all  the  catastrophes  of  it. 
Come,  behold  Messiah,  thy  king,  lodging  in  a 
stable,  and  lying  in  a  manger  :  liear  him  say- 
ing to  his  disciples,  '  The  foxes  have  holts, 
and  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests  ;  but  the 
Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head,' 
Matt.  viii.  20.  Learn  from  this  example  not 
to  place  thy  happiness  in  the  possession  of 
earthly  good.  Die  to  the  world,  die  to  its 
pleasures,  die  to  its  pomps.  Aspire  after 
other  ends,  and  nobler  jo3's,  than  those  of  the 
children  of  this  world,  and  then  worldly  vi- 
cissitudes cannot  shake  thy  bliss. 

Finally,  you  have  need  of  one  to  cowfort 
you  7indcr  the  fears  of  death,  by  opening  the 
gates  of  eternal  felicity  to  you,  and  by  satia- 
ting your  avidity  for  existence  and|elevation. 
This  consolation  the  king  Messiah  affords. 
He  is  the  'everlasting  Father,  the  Fathtk 
OK  etkknitv,  his  throne  shall  be  built  up  for 
all  generations,'  Ps.  Ixxxix.  4  ;  he  has  receiv- 
ed *  dominion,  and  glory,  and  a  kingdom,  that 
all  people,  nations,  and  languages,  should 
serve  him  ;  his  dominion  is  an  everlasting  do- 
minion, which  shall  not  pass  away,  and  his 
kinn-dom  that  which  shall  not  be  destroyed,' 
Dan.  vii.  14,  and  his  subjects  must  reign  eter- 


Ser.  XVI.3 


THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 


167 


nally  with  him.  Wlien  thou,  Christian !  art 
confined  to  thy  dying-  bed,  he  will  approach 
thee  with  all  the  attractive  charms  of  his 
power  and  grace  :  he  will  say  to  thee,  '  Fear 
not  thou  worm  Jacob,'  Isa.  xli.  14,  he  will 
whisper  these  comfortable  words  in  thine  ear, 
'  When  thou  passest  through  the  waters,  I  will 
be  with  thee  :  and  when  through  the  rivers, 
they  shall  not  overflow  thee  ;  when  thou 
walkest  through  the  fire  thou  shalt  not  be 
burned  ;  neither  shall  the  flame  kindle  upon 
thee,'  chap,  xliii.  2.  He  will  open  heaven  to 
thee,  as  he  opened  it  to  St.  Stephen  ;  and  ho 
will  say  to  thee,  as  he  said  to  the  converted 
thief, '  To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  para- 
dise,' Luke  xxiii.  43. 

This  is  the  fourth  idea  of  the  king  Messiah, 
and  this  is  the  fourth  source  of  tlie  duties  of 
his  subjects.  How  glorious  is  the  festival  of 
his  nativity  !  What  grand,  noble,  and  sublime 
sentiments  does  it  require  of  us  !  The  subjects 
of  the  king  Messiah,  the  children  of  the  ever- 
lasting Father,  should  consider  tlie  economy 
of  time  in  its  true  point  of  view,  they  should 
compare  '  things  which  are  seen,  which  are 
temporal,  with  things  which  are  not  seen, 
which  are  eternal,'  2  Cor.  iv.  18.  They 
should  fix  their  attention  upon  tlie  eternity, 
fill  their  imaginations  with  the  glory  of  the 
world  to  come,  and  learn,  by  just  notions  of 
immortality,  to  estimate  the  present  life  ;  the 
'  declining  shadow  ;  the  withering  grass  ;  the 
fading  flower  ;  the  dream  that  flieth  away  ; 
the  vapour  that  vanisheth,'  and  is  irrecovera- 
blyjost,  Ps.  cii.  11 ;  Isa.  xl.  1;  Job  xx.  8  ;  and 
James  iv.  14. 

These,  my  brethren,  are  the  characters  of 
your  king  Messiah,  these  are  the  cliaracters 
of  the  divine  child,  whose  birth  you  are  to 
celebrate  next  Wednesday,  and  in  these  ways 
only  can  you  celebrate  it  as  it  deserves.  We 
conjure  you  by  that  adorable  goodness,  which 
we  are  going  to  testify  to  you  again ,  we  con- 
j  ureyou  by  that  throne  of  grace,  which  God  is 
about  to  ascend  again ;  we  conjure  you  by 
those  ineffable  mercies  which  our  imagina- 
tions cannot  fully  comprehend,  which  our 
minds  cannot  sufficiently  admire,  nor  all  the 
emotions  of  "our  hearts  sufficiently  esteem  ; 
we  conjure  you  to  look  at,  and,  if  you  will  par- 
don the  expression,  to  lose    yourselves  in 


these  grand  objects ;  we  conjure  you  not  to 
turn  our  solemn  festivals,  and  our  devotianal 
days,  into  seasons  of  gaming  and  dissipation. 
Let  us  submit  ourselves  to  the  king  Messiah ; 
let  us  engage  ourselves  to  his  government ; 
let  his  dominion  be  the  ground  of  all  our  joy. 
'  O  most  mighty  !  thou  art  fairer  than  the 
children  of  men.  Grace  is  poured  into  thy 
lips,  therefore  God  hatli  blessed  thee  for 
ever  !'  Ps.  xlv.  3.  2.  '  The  Lord  shall  send 
the  rod  of  thy  strength  out  ot  Zion,  saying". 
Rule  thou  in  the  midst  of  thine  enemies  ! 
Thy  people  shall  be  willing  in  the  day,  when 
thou  shalt  assemble  thy  host  in  holy  pomp !'» 
Yea,  reign  over  thine  enemies,  great  King  ! 
bow  their  rebellious  wills  ;  prevent  their  fatal 
counsels ;  defeat  all  their  bloody  designs ! 
Reign  also  over  thy  friends,  reign  over  us ! 
Make  us  a  willing  people  !  Assemble  all  this 
congregation,  when  thou  shalt  come  with  thy 
host  ill  holy  pomp !  Let  not  the  flying  of  the 
clouds,  which  will  serve  thee  for  a  trium- 
phal chariot ;  let  not  the  pomp  of  the  holy 
angels  in  thy  train,  when  thou  shalt  come  to 
'  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  ;'  let  not 
these  objects  affright  and  terrify  our  souls: 
let  them  charm  and  transport  us ;  and,  in- 
stead of  dreading  thine  approach,  let  us  has- 
ten it  by  our  prayers  and  sighs  !  '  Come, 
Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly,  Amen.'  To  God 
be  honour  and  glory,  for  ever  and  ever 
Amen. 


*  We  retain  the  reading  of  the  French  Bible  here  ; 
because  our  autlior  paraphrases  the  passage  after  that 
version.  Ton  peiiple  sera  un  peuple  plein  de  franc  vou 
loir  ail.  jour  que  tii  assembleras  ton  armee  en  saincte 
pompe.  Thy  people  shall  be  willing  in  the  day  of  thy 
power,  in  the  beauties  of  holiness.  The  passage 
seems  to  be  a  prophetical  allusion  to  one  of  those  sor 
lera  festivals,  in  which  conquerors,  and  their  armies, 
on  their  return  from  battle,  offered  a  part  of  their 
spoil,  which  they  had  taken  from  their  enemies,  to 
God,  from  whom  the  victory  came.  These  free-will 
offerings  were  carried  in  grand  procession.  They 
were  holy,  because  agreeable  to  the  economy  under 
which  the  Jews  lived  ;  and  they  were  beautifully  holy, 
because  they  were  not  e.vacted,  but  proceeded  from 
the  voluntary  gratitude  of  the  army.  In  large  con- 
quests,  the  troops  and  the  offerings  were  out  of 
number,  like  the  drops  of  such  a  shower  of  dew,  as 
the  morning  brought  forth  in  the  youth,  or  spring  of 
the  year.  See  2  Chrnn.  13.— l.'i,  and  xv.  10—15.  Wa 
have  ventured  this  hint  on  a  passage  which  seems  not 
very  clear  in  our  version. 


SERMON   XVII. 


THE   VARIETY  OF  OPINIONS  ABOUT  CHRIST 


Matthew  xvi.    13 — 17. 

TVhen  Jesus  came  into  the  coasts  of  Cesarea  Philippi,  he  asked  his  disciples^ 
sayings  Tfliom  do  men  say  that  /,  the  Son  of  man,  am  ?  And  they  saidy 
Some  say  that  thou  art  John  the  Baptist ;  some  £lias,  and  others  Jere- 
mia-'!,  or  one  of  the  prophets.  He  saith  unto  them.  But  whom  say  ye  that 
I  am  ?  And  Simon  Peter  answered  and  said,  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son 
of  the  living  God.  And  Jesus  ansivered  and  said  unto  him,  Blessed  art 
thou,  Simon  Barjona  ;  for  flesh  and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee, 
but  my  Father  who  is  in  heaven. 

If  any  prejudice  be  capable  of  disconcert- 
ing a  man's  peace,  it  is  that  which  arises  from 
observing  the  various  opinions  of  mankind. 
We  do  not  mean  those  which  regard  unin- 
teresting objects.  As  we  may  mistake  them 
without  danger,  so  we  may  suppose,  either 
that  men  have  not  sufficiently  considered 
them,  or  that  the  Creator  may,  without  injur- 
ing the  perfections  of  his  nature,  refuse  those 
assistances  which  are  necessary  for  the  ob- 
taining of  a  perfect  knowledge  of  them. 
But  how  do  the  opinions  of  mankind  vary 
about  those  subjects,  which  our  whole  happi- 
ness is  concerned  to  know .'  One  athrms, 
that  the  works  of  nature  are  the  productions 
of  chance :  another  attributes  them  to  a 
First  Cause,  who  created  matter,  regulated 
its  form,  and  directed  its  motion.  One  says, 
that  there  is  but  one  God,  that  it  is  absurd  to 
suppose  a  plurality  of  Supreme  Beings,  and 
that  to  prove  there  is  one,  is  thereby  to  prove 
that  there  is  but  one  :  another  says,  that  the 
Divine  Nature  being  infinite,  can  communi- 
cate itself  to  many,  to  an  infinity,  and  form 
many  infinities,  all  really  perfect  in  their 
kind.  Moreover,  among  men  who  seem  to 
agree  in  the  essential  points  of  religion, 
among  Christians  who  bear  the  same  denom- 
ination, assemble  in  the  same  places  of 
worship,  and  subscribe  the  same  creeds,  ideas 
of  the  same  articles  very  different,  some- 
times diametrically  opposite,  are  discovered. 
As  there  are  numerous  opinions  on  matters 
of  speculation,  so  there  are  endless  notions 
about  practice.  One  contents  himself  with 
half  a  system,  containing  only  some  general 
duties  which  belong  to  worldly  decency :  ano- 
ther insists  on  uniting  virtue  with  every  cir- 
cumstance, every  transaction,  every  instant, 
and,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak  so,  every 
indivisible  point  of  life.  One  thinks  it  law- 
ful to  associate  the  pleasures  of  the  world 
with  the  practice  of  piety ;  and  he  pretends 
that  good  people  differ  from  the  wicked  only 
in  some  enormities,  in  which  the  latter  seem 
to  forget  they  are  men,  and  to  transform 
themselves  into  wild  beasts :  another  con- 
demns himself  to  perpetual  penances  and 
mortifications,  and  if  at  any  time  he  allow 
himself  recreations,  they  are  never  such  as 


savour  of  the  spirit  of  the  times,  because 
they  are  the  livery  of  the  world. 

I  said,  my  brethren,  that  if  any  prejudices 
make  deep  impressions  on  the  mind  of  a  ra- 
tional man,  they  are  those  which  are  pro^ 
duced  by  a  variety  of  opinions.  They  some- 
times drive  men  into  a  state  of  uncertainty 
and  skepticism,  the  worst  disposition  of  mind, 
the  most  opposite  to  that  persuasion,  without 
which  there  is  no  pleasure,  and  the  most 
contrary  to  the  grand  design  of  religion, 
which  is  to  establish  our  consciences,  and 
to  enable  us  to  reply  to  every  inquirer  on 
these  great  subjects,  '  I  know,  and  am  iper- 
suaded,'  Rom.  xiv.  14. 

Against  this  temptation  Jesus  Christ 
guarded  his  disciples.  Never  was  a  question 
more  important,  never  were  the  minds  of 
men  more  divided  about  any  question,  than 
that  which  related  to  the  person  of  our  Sav- 
iour. Some  considered  him  as  a  politician, 
who  under  a  veil  of  humility,  hid  the  most 
ambitious  designs  ;  others  took  him  for  an 
enthusiast.  Some  thought  him  an  emissary 
of  the  the  devil :  others  an  envoy  fi-om  God. 
Even  among  them  who  agreed  in  the  latter, 
*  some  said  that  he  was  Elias,  some  John  the 
Baptist,  and  others  Jercmias,  or  one  of  tlie 
prophets.'  The  faith  of  the  apostles  was  in 
danger  of  being  shaken  by  these  divers 
opinions.  Jesus  Christ  comes  to  their  as- 
sistance, and  having  required  their  opinions 
on  a  question  which  divided  all  Judea,  having 
received  from  Peter  the  answer  of  the  whole 
apostolical  college,  he  praises  their  faith, 
and,  by  praising  it,  gave  it  a  firmer  estab- 
lishment. 

My  brethren,  may  the  words  of  Jesus 
Christ  make  everlasting  impressions  on  you  ! 
May  those  of  you  who,  because  you  have 
acted  rationally,  by  embracing  the  belief,  and 
by  obeying  the  precepts  of  the  gospel,  are 
sometimes  taxed  with  superstition,  some- 
times with  infatuation,  and  sometimes  with 
melancholy,  learn  from  the  reflections  that 
we  shall  make  on  the  text,  to  rise  above  the 
opinions  of  men,  to  be  firm  and  immoveable 
amidst  temptations  of  this  kind,  always  faith- 
fully to  adhere  to  truth  and  virtue,  and  to  be 
the  disciples  only  of  them.     Grant,  O  Lord  ! 


Ser.  XVII.]        THE  VARIETY  OF  OPINIONS  ABOUT  CHRIST. 


169 


that  they  who  like  St.  Peter  have  said  to 
Jesus  Christ,  *  Thou  art  the  Christ  the  Son 
of  the  living  God,'  may  experience  sucli 
pleasure  as  the  answer  of  the  divine  Saviour 
gave  to  the  apostle's  soul,  when  he  said, 
'  Blessed  art  thou,  Simon  Barjona  ;  for  flesh 
and  blood  liath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but 
my  Father  which  is  in  heaven.'     Amen. 

The  questions  and  the  answers  which  are 
related  in  the  text  will  be  our  only  divisions 
of  this  discourse. 

Jesus  Christ  was  travelling  from  Bethany 
to  Cesarea,  not  to  that  Cesarea  which  was 
situated  on  the  Mediterranean  sea,  at  first 
called  the  tower  of  Strato,  and  afterwards 
Cesarea,  by  Herod  the  Great,  in  honour  of 
the  emperor  Augustus ;  but  to  that  which 
was  situated  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Lebanon, 
and  which  had  been  repaired  and  embellished 
in  honour  of  Tiberius,  by  Philip  the  Tetrarch, 
the  son  of  Herod. 

■  Jesus  Christ,  in  his  way  to  this  city,  put 
this  question  to  his  disciples.  Whom  do  men 
say  that  I,  the  Son  of  man,  am .'"  or,  as  it 
may  be  rendered.  Whom  do  men  say  that  I 
am.'  Do  they  say  that  I  am  the  Son  of 
man.' 

We  will  enter  into  a  particular  examina- 
tion of  the  reasons  which  determined  the 
Jews  of  our  Saviour's  time,  and  the  inspired 
writers  with  them,  to  distinguish  the  Mes- 
siah by  the  title  Son  of  man.  Were  we  to 
determine  any  thing  on  this  subject,  we 
should  give  the  preference  to  the  opinion  of 
those  who  think  the  phrase  Son  of  Man, 
means  man  by  excellence.  The  Jews  say 
son  of  man,  to  signify  a  man.  Witness, 
among  many  other  passages,  this  well-known 
saying  of  Balaam  ;  '  God  is  not  a  man  that 
he  should  lie,  neither  the  son  of  man  that  he 
should  repent,'  Numb,  xxiii.  19.  The  Mes- 
siah is  called  the  Man,  or  the  Son  of  Man, 
that  is,  the  Man  of  whom  the  prophecies  had 
spoken,  the  Man  whose  coming  was  the  ob- 
ject of  the  desires  and  prayers  of  the  whole 
church. 

It  is  more  important  to  inquire  the  design 
of  Jesus  Christ,  in  putting  this  question  to 
his  disciples,  '  Whom  do  men  say  that  I  am  .'' 
It  is  one  of  those  questions,  the  meaning  of 
which  can  be  determined  only  by  the  char- 
acter of  him  who  proposes  it ;  for  it  may  be 
put  from  many  different  motives. 

Sometimes /7?'irfc  puts  this  question.  There 
are  some  people  who  think  of  nothing  but 
themselves,  and  who  imagine  all  the  world 
think  about  them  too  :  tliey  suppose  tliey  are 
the  subject  of  every  conversation  ;  and  fancy 
every  wheel  which  moves  in  society  has 
some  relation  to  them ;  if  they  be  not  the 
principal  spring  of  it.  People  of  this  sort  are 
very  desirous  of  knowing  what  is  said  about 
them,  and,  as  they  have  no  conception  that 
any  but  glorious  things  are  said  of  them, 
they  are  extremely  solicitous  to  know  them, 
and  often  put  this  question,  '  Whom  do  men 
say  that  I  am .'"  Would  you  know  what  they 
say  of  you .'  Nothing  at  all.  They  do  not 
know  you  exist,  and  except  a  few  of  your 
relations,  nobody  in  the  world  knows  you  are 
in  it. 

The  question  is  sometimes  put  by  curiosity, 
and  this  motive  deserves  condemnation,  if  it 


be  accompanied  with  a  desire  of  reformation. 
The  judgment  of  the  public  is  respectable, 
and,  to  a  certain  degree,  it  ought  to  be  a  rule 
of  action  to  us.  It  is  necessary  sometimes 
to  go  abroad,  to  quit  our  relations,  and  ac- 
quaintances, who  are  prejudiced  in  our  fa- 
vour, and  to  inform  ourselves  of  the  opi- 
nions of  those  who  are  more  impartial  on  our 
conduct.  I  wish  some  people  would  often 
put  this  question,  '  Whom  do  men  say  that 
I  am .''  The  answers  they  would  receive 
would  teach  them  to  entertain  less  flattering, 
and  more  just  notions  of  themselves.  '  Whom 
do  men  say  that  I  am .''  They  say,  you  aro 
haughty,  and  proud  of  your  prosperity ;  that 
you  use  your  influence  only  to  oppress  the 
weak;  that  your  success  is  a  public  calamity; 
and  that  you  are  a  tyrant  whom  every  one 
abhors.  '  Whom  do  men  say  that  I  am .'' 
They  say,  you  have  a  serpent's  tongue,  that 
*  the  poison  of  adders  is  under  your  lips ;'  Ps. 
cxl.  3,  that  you  inflame  a  whole  city,  a  whole 
province,  by  the  scandalous  tales  you  forge, 
and  which,  having  forged,  you  industriously 
propagate  ;  they  say,  you  are  infernally  dili- 
gent in  sowing  discord  between  wife  and 
husband,  friend  and  friend,  subject  and 
prince,  pastor  and  flock.  '  Whom  do  men 
say  that  I  am .''  They  say  you  are  a  sordid, 
covetous  wretch  ;  that  mammon  is  the  God 
you  adore ;  that,  provided  your  coffers  fill,  it 
is  a  matter  of  indifference  to  you,  whether  it 
be  by  extortion,  or  by  just  acquisition,  whe- 
ther it  be  by  a  lawful  inheritance,  or  by  an 
accursed  patrimony. 

Revenge  may  put  the  question,  '  Wliom  do 
men  say  that  I  am .''  We  cannot  but  know 
that  some  reports,  which  are  spread  about  us, 
are  disadvantageous  to  our  reputation.  We 
are  afraid,  justice  should  not  be  done  to  us, 
we  therefore,  wish  to  know  our  revilers,  in 
order  to  mark  them  out  for  our  vengeance. 
The  inquiry  in  this  disposition  is  certainly 
blameable.  Let  us  hve  uprightly,  and  let  ua 
give  ourselves  no  trouble  about  what  people 
say  of  us.  If  there  be  some  cases  in  which 
it  is  useful  to  know  the  popular  opinion,  there 
are  others  in  which  it  is  best  to  be  ignorant 
of  it.  If  religion  forbids  us  to  avenge  our- 
selves, prudence  requires  us  not  to  expose 
ourselves  to  the  temptation  of  doing  it.  A 
heathen  has  given  us  an  illustrious  example 
of  this  prudent  conduct,  which  I  am  recom- 
mending to  you:  I  speak  of  Pompey  the 
Great.  He  had  defeated  Perpenna,  and  the 
traitor  offered  to  deliver  to  him  the  papers 
of  Sertorius,  among  which  were  letters  from 
several  of  the  most  powerful  men  in  Rome, 
who  had  promised  to  receive  Sertorius  into 
Italy,  and  to  put  all  to  death  who  should  at- 
tempt to  resist  him.  Pompey  took  all  the 
papers,  burnt  all  the  letters,  by  that  mean 
prevented  all  the  bloody  consequences  which 
would  have  followed  such  fatal  discoveries, 
and,  along  with  them,  sacrificed  that  pas- 
sion, which  many,  who  are  called  Christians, 
find  the  most  difficult  to  sacrifice,  I  mean  re- 
venge. 

But  this  question,  '  Whom  do  men  say 
that  I  am .'"  may  be  put  by  benevolence.  The 
good  of  society  requires  each  member  to  en- 
tertain just  notions  of  some  persons.  A 
magistrate,  who  acts  disinterestedly  for  the 


170 


THE  VARIETY  OF 


[Ser.  XVIL 


good  of  riie  state,  and  for  the  support  of  re- 
ligion, would  be  often  distressed  in  his  gov- 
ernment, if  lie  were  represented  as  a  man  de- 
voted to  his  own  interest,  cruel  in  his  mea- 
sures, and  governed  by  his  own  imperious 
tempers.  A  pastor,  who  knows  and  preach- 
es the  truth,  who  has  the  power  of  alarming 
hardened  sinners,  and  of  exciting  the  fear 
of  hell  in  them,  in  order  to  prevent  their 
falling  into  it,  or,  shall  I  rather  say,  in  order 
to  draw  them  out  of  it :  such  a  pastor  will 
discharge  the  duties  of  his  office  with  incom- 
parably more  success,  if  the  people  do  him 
justice,  than  if  they  accuse  him  of  foment- 
ing errors,  and  of  loving  to  surround  his 
pulpit  with  '  devouring  fire  and  everlasting 
burmngs  ;'  Isa.  xxxiii.  14.  Benevolence  may 
incline  such  persons  to  inquire  what  is  said 
of  them,  in  order  to  rectify  mistakes,  which 
may  be  very  injurious  to  those  who  believe 
them.  In  this  disposition  Jesus  Christ  pro- 
posed the  question  in  the  text  to  his  disci- 
ples. Benevolence  directed  all  the  steps  of 
our  Saviour,  it  dictated  all  his  language,  it 
animated  all  his  emotions;  and,  when  we 
are  in  doubt  about  the  motive  of  any  part  of 
his  conduct,  we  shall  seldom  run  any  hazard, 
if  we  attribute  it  to  his  benevolence.  In 
our  text  he  established  the  faith  of  his  dis- 
ciples by  trying  it.  He  did  not  want  to  be 
told  the  public  opinions  about  himself,  he 
knew  them  better  than  they  of  whom  he  in- 
quired :  but  he  required  his  disciples  to  relate 
people's  opinions,  that  he  might  give  them 
an  antidote  against  the  poison  that  was  en- 
veloped in  them. 

The  disciples  answered  :  '  Some  say  that 
thou  art  John  the  Baptist;  some  Elias  ;  and 
others  Jeremias,  or  one  of  the  prophets.' 
They  omitted  those  odious  opinions,  which 
were  injurious  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  refused  to 
defile  their  mouths -with  the  execrable  blas- 
phemies, which  the  malignity  of  the  Jews  ut- 
tered against  him.  But  with  what  shadow 
of  appearance  could  it  be  thought  that  Jesus 
Christ  was  John  the  Baptist  ?  You  may  find, 
in  part,  an  answer  to  this  question  in  the  four- 
teenth chapter  of  this  gospel,  ver.  1 — 10.  It  is 
there  said,  that  Herod  Antipas,  called  the  Te- 
trarch,  that  is,  the  king  of  the  fourth  part  of 
his  father's  territories,  beheaded  John  the 
Baptist  at  the  request  of  Herodias. 

Every  body  knows  the  cause  of  the  hatred 
of  that  fury  against  the  holy  man.  John  the 
Baptist  held  an  opinion,  which  now-a-days 
passes  for  an  error  injurious  to  the  peace 
of  society,  that  is,  that  the  high  rank  of 
those  who  are  guilty  of  some  scandalous  vices, 
ought  not  to  shelter  them  from  the  censures 
of  the  ministers  of  the  living  God ;  and  that 
they  who  commit,  and  not  they  who  reprove 
such  crimes,  are  responsible  for  all  the  disor- 
ders which  such  censures  may  produce  in 
society.  A  bad  courtier,  but  a  good  servant 
of  him,  who  had  seflt  him  to  '  prepare  the  way 
of  the  Lord,  and  to  make  his  paths  straight,' 
Luke  iii.  4,  ho  told  the  incestuous  Herod, 
withou  equivocating,  '  It  is  not  lawful  for 
thee  to  have  thy  brother  Philip's  wife,'  Matt. 
xiv.  4  ;  Herodias  could  not  plead  her  cause 
with  equity,  and  therefore  she  pleaded  it  with 
cruelty.  Her  daughter  Salome  had  pleased 
Herod  at  a  feast,  which  was  made  in  the  cas- 


tle of  MacheroQ,  on  the  birthday  of  the  king. 
He  showed  the  same  indulgence  to  her,  that 
Flaminius  the  Roman  showed  to  a  court  lady, 
who  had  requested  that  consul  to  gratify  her 
curiosity  with  the  sight  of  beheading  a  man.  | 
An  indulgence,  certainly  less  shocking  in  a  ' 
heathen,  than  in  a  prince  educated  in  the 
knowledge  of  the  true  God.  It  was  a  com- 
mon opinion  among  the  Jews  that  the  resur- 
rection of  the  martyrs  was  anticipated.  Many 
thought  all  the  prophets  were  to  be  raised  from 
the  dead  at  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  and 
some  had  spread  a  report,  which  reached 
Herod,  that  John  the  Baptist  enjoyed  that 
privilege. 

The  same  reasons,  which  persuaded  some 
Jews  to  believe  that  he,  whom  they  called  Je- 
sus, was  John  the  Baptist  risen  from  the  dead, 
persuaded  others  to  believe,  that  he  was 
some  '  one  of  the  prophets,'  who,  like  John, 
had  been  put  to  a  violent  death,  for  having 
spoken  with  a  similar  courage  against  the 
reigning  vices  of  the  times  in  which  they 
lived.  This  was  particularly  the  case  of 
Jeremiah.  When  this  prophet  was  only 
fourteen  years  of  age,  and,  as  he  said  of 
himself,  when  he  could  not  speak,  because  he 
was  a  child,  Jer.  i.  6,  he  delivered  himself 
with  a  freedom  of  speech  that  is  hardly  allow- 
able in  those  who  are  grown  grey  in  a  long 
discharge  of  the  ministerial  office.  He  cen- 
sured, without  distinction  of  rank  or  charac- 
ter, the  vices  of  all  the  Jews,  and  having  exe- 
cuted this  painful  function  from  the  reign  of 
Josiahto  the  reign  of  Zedekiah,  he  was,  if  we 
believe  a  tradition  of  the  Jews,  which  Tertu- 
lian,  St.  Jerome,  and  many  fathers  of  the 
church  have  preserved,  stoned  to  death  at 
Tahapanes  in  Egypt,  by  his  countrymen: 
there  he  fell  a  victim  to  their  rage  against 
his  predictions.  The  fact  is  not  certain ; 
however,  it  is  admitted  by  many  Christians, 
who  have  pretended  that  St.  Paul  had  the 
prophet  Jeremiah  particularly  in  view,  when 
he  proposed,  as  examples  to  Christians,  some 
who  'were  stoned,'  Heb.  xi.  37,  whom  he 
places  among  the  '  cloud  of  witnesses.'  How- 
ever uncertain  this  history  of  the  prophet's 
lapidation  may  be,  some  Jews  believed  it,  and 
it  was  sufficient  to  persuade  them  that  Jesus 
Christ  was  Jeremiah. 

As  Elias  was  translated  to  heaven  without 
dying,  the  opinions,  of  which  we  have  been 
speaking,  were  not  sufficient  to  persuade  other 
Jews  that  Jesus  Christ  was  Elias ;  but  a 
mistaken  passage  of  Malachi  was  the  ground 
of  this  notion.  It  is  the  passage  which  con- 
cludes the  writings  of  that  prophet ;  '  Behold, 
I  will  send  you  Elijah  the  prophet,  before  the 
coming  of  the  great  and  dreadful  day  of  the 
Lord,'  Mai.  iii.  5.  This  prophecy  was  per- 
fectly plain  to  the  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ, 
for  in  him,  and  in  John  the  Baptist  they  saw 
its  accomplishment.  But  the  Jews  understood 
it  literally.  They  understand  it  so  still,  and, 
next  to  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  that  of 
Elias  is  the  grand  object  of  their  hopes.  It  is 
Elias,  according  to  them,  who  will '  turn  the 
heart  of  the  fathers  to  the  children,  and  the 
heart  of  the  children  to  their  fathers,'  ver.  6. 
It  is  Elias  who  will  prepare  the  ways  of  the 
Messiah,  will  be  his  forerunner,  and  will 
anoint  him  with  holy  oil.    It  is  Elias,  who 


Seb.  XVII.] 


OPINIONS  ABOUT  CHRIST. 


171 


will  answer  all  questions,  and  solve  all  diiS- 
culties.  It  is  Elias,  who  will  obtain  by  his 
prayers  the  resurrection  of  the  just.  It  is 
Elias,  who  will  do  for  the  dispersed  Jews 
what  Moses  did  for  the  Israelites  enslaved  in 
Egypt ;  he  wili  march  at  their  head,  and 
conduct  thet.'i  to  Canaan.  All  these  expres- 
sions are  taken  from  the  Rabbins,  whose 
names  I  omit,  as  well  as  the  titles  of  the  books 
from  which  I  have  quoted  the  passages  now 
mentioned. 

Such  were  the  various  opinions  of  the  Jews 
about  Jesus  Christ ;  and  each  continued  in  his 
own  prejudice  without  giving  himself  any 
farther  trouble  about  it.  But  how  could  they 
remain  in  a  state  of  tranquillity ,  while  questions 
of  such  importance  remained  in  dispute  ?  All 
their  religion,  all  their  hopes,  and  all  their  hap- 

{)iness,  depended  on  the  solution  of  this  prob- 
em :  who  is  the  man  about  whom  the  opinions 
of  mankind  are  so  divided  .''  The  questions, 
strictly  speaking,  were  these:  Is  the  Redeemer 
of  Israel  come  ?  Are  the  prophecies  accom- 
plished ?  Is  the  Son  of  God  among  us,  and  has 
he  brought  with  him  peace,  grace,  and  glory  ? 
What  kind  of  beings  were  the  Jews,  who  left 
these  great  questions  undetermined,  and  lived 
without  elucidating  them  ?  Are  you  surpri- 
sed at  these  things,  my  brethren  .'  Your  indo- 
lence on  questions  of  the  same  kind  is  equally 
astonishing  to  considerate  men.  The  Jews 
had  business,  they  must  have  neglected  it ; 
they  loved  pleasures  and  amusements,  they 
must  have  suspended  them  ;  they  were  strick- 
en with  whatever  concerned  the  present  life, 
and  they  must  have  sought  after  the  life  to 
come,  they  must  haye  shaken  off  that  idle- 
ness in  which  they  spent  tlieir  lives,  and 
have  taken  up  the  cross  and  followed 
Jesus  Christ.  These  were  the  causes  of 
that  indolence  which  surprises  you,  and 
these  were  the  causes  of  that  ignorance 
which  concealed  Jesus  Christ  from  them,  till 
he  made  Ijimself  kno"\vn  to  tliom  by  the  just, 
though  bloody  calamities,  which  he  inflicted 
on  their  nation.  And  these  are  also  the  causes 
of  that  ignorance,  in  which  the  greater  part 
of  you  are  involved,  in  regard  to  many  ques- 
tions as  important  as  those  which  were 
agitated  then.  Will  a  few  acts  of  faith  in 
God,  and  of  love  to  him,  assure  us  of  our  sal- 
vation, or  must  these  acts  be  continued,  re- 
peated, and  established  .''  Does  faith  consist  in 
barely  believing  the  merit  of  the  Saviour,  or 
does  it  include  an  entire  obedience  to  his 
laws.''  Is  the  fortune,  that  I  enjoy  with  so 
much  pleasure,  display  with  so  much  parade, 
or  hide  with  so  much  niggardliness,  really 
mine,  or  does  it  belong  to  my  country,  to  my 
customers,  to  the  poor,  or  to  any  others, 
whom  my  ancestors  have  deceived,  from 
whom  they  have  obtained,  and  from  whom  I 
withhold  it .''  Does  my  course  of  life  lead  to 
heaven,  or  to  hell  ?  Shall  I  be  numbered 
with  'the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,' 
Heb.  xii.  23,  after  I  liave  finished  my  short 
life,  or  shall  I  be  plunged  with  devils  into 
eternal  flames  ?  My  God  !  how  is  it  possible 
for  men  quietly  to  eat,  drink,  sleep,  and,  as 
they  call  it,  anmse  themselves,  while  these 
important  questions  remain  unanswered ! 
But,  as  I  said  of  the  Jews,  we  must  neglect 
our  business  ;    suspend  our  pleasures ;  cease 


to  be  dazzled  with  the  present,  and  employ 
ourselves  about  the  future  world  :  perhaps 
also  we  must  make  a  sacrifice  of  some  darling 
passion,  abjure  some  old  opinion;  or  restore 
some  acquisition,  which  is  dearer  to  us  than 
the  truths  of  religion,  and  the  salvation  of 
our  souls.  Wo  be  to  us !  Let  us  no  more  re- 
proach the  Jews ;  the  causes  of  their  indo- 
lence are  the  causes  of  ours.  Ah  !  let  us  take 
care,  lest,  like  them,  we  continue  in  igno- 
rance, till  the  vengeance  of  God  command 
death,  and  devils,  and  hell,  to  awake  us  with 
them '  to  everlasting  shame,'  Dan.  xii.  2. 

Jesus  Christ,  having  heard  fi-om  the  mouths 
of  his  apostles  what  people  thought  of  him, 
desired  also  to  hear  from  their  own  mouths 
(we  have  assigned  the  reasons  before)  what 
they  themselves  thought  of  him.  '  He  saith 
unto  them,  but  whom  say  ye  that  I  am.'' 
Peter  instantly  replied  for  himself,  and  for 
the  whole  apostolical  college,  '  Thou  art  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.' 

St.  Peter  was  a  man  of  great  vivacity,  and 
people  of  this  cast  are  subject  to  great  mis- 
takes; as  ready  to  speak  as  to  think;  they  often 
fall  into  mistakes,  through  the  same  principle 
that  inclines  them  to  embrace  the  truth,  and 
to  maintain  it.  St.  Peter's  history  often  ex- 
emplifies this  remark.  Does  he  hear  Jesus 
Christ  speak  of  his  approaching  death.''  '  Lord 
(says  he),  spare  thyself,  this  shall  not  be  to 
thee,'  Matt.  xvi.  22.  Does  he  see  a  few  rays 
of  celestial  glory  on  the  holy  mount !  He  is 
stricken  with  their  splendour,  and  exclaims, 
'  Lord,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here,'  chap, 
xvii.  4.  Does  he  perceive  Jesus  Christ  in  the 
hands  of  his  enemies .''  He  draws  a  sword  to 
deliver  him,  and  cuts  off"  the  ear  of  Malchus. 
But,  if  this  vivacity  expose  a  man  to  great 
inconveniences,  it  is  also  accompanied  with 
some  fine  advantages.  When  a  man  of  this 
disposition  attends  to  virtue,  he  makes  infi- 
nitely greater  proficiency  in  it  than  those  slow 
men  do,  who  pause,  and  weigh,  and  argue 
out  all  step  by  step  :  the  zeal  of  the  former 
is  more  ardent,  their  flames  are  more  vehe- 
ment, and  after  they  are  become  wise  by  their 
mistakes,  they  are  patterns  of  piety.  St. 
Peter  on  this  occasion,  proves  beforehand  all 
we  have  advanced.  He  feels  himself  animat- 
ed with  a  holy  jealousy,  in  regard  to  them 
who  partal^e  with  him  the  honour  of  apos- 
tleship,  and  it  would  mortify  him,  could  he 
think,  that  any  one  of  the  apostolical  college 
has  more  zeal  for  his  master,  to  whom  he  has 
devoted  his  heart,  and  his  life,  all  his  faculty 
of  loving,  and  all  the  powers  of  his  soul ; 
he  looks,  he  sparkles,  and  he  replies,  '  Thou 
art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.' 

'  Thou  art  the  Clirist,'  or,  thou  art  the 
Messiah,  the  King  promised  to  the  church. 
He  calls  this  king  '  the  Son  of  God.'  The 
Jews  gave  the  Messiah  this  title,  which  was 
an  object  of  their  hopes.  Under  this  idea 
the  prophecies  had  promised  him,  '  the  Lord 
hath  said  unto  me,  thou  art  my  Son  ;  this  day 
have  I  begotten  thee,'  Ps.  ii.  7.  God  him- 
self conferred  this  title  on  Jesus  Christ  from 
heaven, '  This  is  my  beloved  Son,'  Matt.  iii. 
17.  Under  this  idea  the  angel  promised  him 
to  his  holy  mother,  '  Thovi  shalt  bring  forth 
a  Son,  he  shall  be  great,  and  shall  be  called, 
the   Son  of  the   Highest,'   Luke   i.  31,   32. 


172 


THE  VARIETY  OF 


[Ser.  XVII. 


They  are  two  very  different  questions,  I 
grant,  whether  the  Jewish  church  acknow- 
ledged that  the  Messiah  should  be  '  the  Son 
of  God ;'  and  whether  they  knew  all  the  im- 
port of  this  august  title.  It  cannot,  howe- 
ver, be  reasonably  doubted,  I  think,  whether 
they  discovered  his  dignity,  although  they 
might  not  know  the  doctrine  of  Christ's  di- 
vinity so  clearly,  nor  receive  it  with  so  much 
demonstration,  as  Christians  have  received 
it.  I  should  digress  too  far  from  my  subject, 
were  I  to  quote  all  the  passages  from  the 
writings  of  the  Jews  which  learned  men 
have  collected  on  this  article.  Let  it  suffice 
to  remark,  that  if  it  could  be  proved,  that 
the  Jewish  church  affixed  only  confused  ideas 
to  the  title  '  Son  of  God,'  which  is  given  to 
the  Messiah,  it  is  beyond  a  doubt,  I  think, 
that  the  apostles  affixed  clear  ideas  to  the 
terms,  and  that  in  their  style,  God  and  Son 
of  God  are  synonymous :  witness,  among 
many  other  passages,  St.  Thomas's  adoration 
of  Jesus  Christ  expressed  in  these  words, 
*My  Lord  and  my  God.' 

Let  us  not  engage  any  farther  in  this  con- 
troversy now ;  let  us  improve  the  precious 
moments  which  remain  to  the  principal  de- 
sign that  we  proposed  in  the  choice  of  the 
subject,  that  is,  to  guard  you  against  the 
temptations  which  arise  from  that  variety  of 
opinions  which  are  received,  both  in  the 
world  and  in  the  church,  on  the  most  impor- 
tant points  of  religion.  The  comparison  we 
are  going  to  make  of  St.  Peter's  confession 
of  faith,  with  the  judgment  of  Jesus  Christ 
on  it,  will  conduct  us  to  this  end. 

Jesus  Christ  assured  St  Peter,  that  the 
confession  of  faith,  which  he  then  made, 
'  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living 
God,'  was  not  a  production  of  frail  and  cor- 
rupted nature,  or,  as  he  expresses  it,  That 
'  flesh  and  blood'  hath  not  revealed  these 
things  unto  him.  Flesh  and  blood  mean 
here,  as  in  mamy  passages  we  have  quoted 
at  other  times,  frail  and  corrupted  nature. 
Jesus  Christ  assured  St.  Peter,  that  this  con- 
fession was  a  production  of  grace,  which  had 
operated  in  him,  and  which  would  conduct 
him  to  the  supreme  good.  This  is  the  mean- 
ing of  these  words,  '  My  Father,  who  is  in 
heaven,  hath  revealed  these  things  unto  thee.' 
What  were  the  characters  of  the  faith  of  St. 
Peter  which  occasioned  the  judgment  that 
Jesus  Christ  made  of  it .'  and  how  may  we 
know  whether  our  faith  be  of  the  same  divine 
original  .■'  Follow  us  in  these  reflections ; 
'  Blessed  art  thou,  Simon  Barjona,  flesh  and 
blood  hath  not  produced  the  faith  tliat  thou 
hast  professed,  but  my  Father  who  is  in  hea- 
ven, hath  revealed  it  to  thee.'  In  order  to 
convince  thee  of  the  truth  of  my  assertions, 
consider  first  the  circumstances  which  Pro- 
vidence has  improved  to  produce  thy  faith  : 
secondly,  the  effbrts  which  preceded  it: 
thirdly,  the  evidence  that  accompanies  it  : 
fourthly,  the  sacrifices  which  seal  and  crown 
it :  and,  lastly  the  nature  of  the  very  frailties 
which  subsist  with  it. — Let  us  explain  these 
five  characters,  and  let  us  make  an  applica- 
tion of  them.  Let  us  know  St.  Peter  ;  or, 
rather,  let  us  learn  to  know  ourselves.  Witli 
this,  the  most  important  point,  we  will  con- 
clude this  discourse. 


1.  Let  ue  attend  to  the  circumstances 
which  providence  had  improved  to  the  pro- 
ducing of  St.  Peter's  faith.  There  are  in  the 
lives  of  Christians,  certain  signal  circum- 
stances, in  which  we  cannot  help  perceiving  j 
a  particular  hand  of  Providence  working  for  I 
their  salvation.  Mistakes  on  this  article 
may  produce,  and  foment,  superstitious  sen- 
timents. We  have,  in  general,  a  secret  bias 
to  fanaticism.  We  often  meet  with  people 
who  imagine  themselves  the  central  points 
of  all  the  designs  of  God ;  they  think,  he 
watches  only  over  them,  and  that,  in  all  the 
events  in  the  universe,  he  has  only  their  fe- 
licity in  view.  Far  from  us  be  such  extra- 
vagant notions.  It  is,  however,  strictly  true, 
that  there  are  in  the  lives  of  Christians  some 
signal  circumstances,  in  which  we  cannot 
help  seeing  a  particular  Providence  working 
for  their  salvation.  Of  whom  can  this  be 
affirmed  more  evidently  than  of  the  apostles  ? 
They  by  an  inestimable  privilege,  were  not 
only  witnesses  of  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ, 
hearers  of  his  doctrine,  and  spectators  of 
his  miracles :  but  they  were  admitted  to 
an  intimacy  with  him  ;  they  had  liberty  at 
all  times,  and  in  all  places,  to  converse  with 
him,  to  propose  their  doubts,  and  to  ask  for 
his  instructions  ;  they  were  at  the  source  of 
wisdom,  truth,  and  life.  St.  Peter  had  these 
advantages  not  only  in  common  with  the  rest 
of  the  apostles :  but  he,  with  James  and 
John,  were  chosen  from  the  rest  of  the  apos- 
tles to  accompany  the  Saviour,  when,  on 
particular  occasions,  he  laid  aside  the  veils 
which  concealed  him  from  the  rest,  and  when 
he  displayed  his  divinity  in  its  greatest  glory. 
A  faith  produced  in  such  extraordinary 
circumstances,  was  not  the  work  of  flesh 
and  blood,  it  was  a  production  of  that  al- 
mighty grace,  that  ineffable  love,  which 
wrought  the  salvation  of  St.  Peter. 

My  brethren,  although  we  have  never  en- 
joyed the  same  advantages  with  St.  Peter : 
yet,  it  seems  to  me,  those  whom  God  has  es- 
tabhshed  in  piety,  may  recollect  the  manner 
in  which  he  has  improved  some  circum- 
stances to  form  the  dispositions  in  them  that 
constitute  it.  Let  each  turn  his  attention  to 
the  different  conditions  through  which  God 
has  been  pleased  to  conduct  him.  Here  I 
was  exposed  to  such  or  such  a  danger,  and 
delivered  from  it  by  a  kind  of  miracle ; 
there,  I  fell  into  such  or  such  a  temptation, 
from  which  I  was  surprisingly  recovered  ;  in 
such  a  year  I  was  connected  with  a  baneful 
company,  from  which  an  unexpected  event 
freed  me  :  at  another  time,  I  met  with  a 
faithful  friend,  the  most  valuable  of  all  ac- 
quisitions, whose  kind  advice  and  assistance, 
recommended  by  his  own  example,  were  of 
infinite  use  to  me  :  some  of  these  dangerous 
states  would  have  ruined  me,  if  the  projects, 
on  which  I  was  most  passionately  bent,  had 
succeeded  according  to  my  wishes  ;  for  they 
were  excited  by  worldly  objects,  and  I  was  in- 
fatuated with  their  glory  ;  and  others  would 
have  produced  the  same  effect,  if  my  adverse 
circumstances  had  either  increased  or  con- 
tinued. I  repeat,  it  again,  my  brethren, 
each  of  us  may  recollect  circumstances  in 
his  life  in  which  a  kind  Providence  evidently 
interposed,  and  made  use  of  them  to  tear  him 


Sbr.  XVII.] 


OPINIONS  ABOUT  CHRIST. 


173 


from  the  world,  and  thereby  enabled  him  to 
adopt  this  comfortable  declaration  of  Jesus 
Christ,  <  Blessed  art  thou,  Simon  Barjona  ; 
for  flesh  and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto 
thee,  but  my  Father,  which  is  in  Jieaven.' 

2.  Let  us  remark  the  efforts  which  preceded 
faith.  God  has  been  pleased  to  conceal  the 
truth  under  veils,  in  order  to  excite  our  ar- 
duous industry  to  discover  it.  The  obscuri- 
ty that  involves  it  for  a  time,  is  not  only 
agreeable  to  the  general  plan  of  Providence, 
but  it  is  one  of  the  most  singularly  beautiful 
dispensations  of  it.  If,  then,  you  have  at- 
tended to  the  truth  only  in  a  careless,  indo- 
lent manner,  instead  of  stud3'ing  it  with 
avidity,  it  is  to  be  feared  you  have  not  obtain- 
ed it ;  at  least,  it  may  be  presumed,  your  at- 
tachment to  it  is  less  the  work  of  Heaven 
than  of  the  world.  But  if  you  can  attest 
you  have  silenced  prejudice  to  hear  reason, 
you  have  consulted  nature  to  know  the  God 
of  nature  ;  that,  disgusted  with  the  little  pro- 
gress you  could  make  in  that  way,  you  have 
had  recourse  to  revelation ;  that  you  have 
stretched  your  meditation,  not  only  to  as- 
certain the  truth  of  the  gospel,  but  to  obtain 
a  deep,  thorough  knowledge  of  it ;  that  you 
have  considered  this  as  the  most  important 
work  to  which  your  attention  could  be  direct- 
ed ;  that  you  have  sincerely  and  ardently 
implored  the  assistance  of  God  to  enable  you 
to  succeed  in  your  endeavours  ;  that  you  have 
often  knocked  at  the  door  of  mercy  to  obtain 
it ;  and  that  you  have  often  adopted  the 
sentiments,  with  the  praj'er  of  David,  and 
said,  '  Lord  open  thou  mine  eyes,  that  I  may 
behold  wondrous  things  out  of  thy  law!' 
Ps.  cxix.  18.  If  you  can  appeal  to  Heaven 
for  the  truth  of  these  practices,  be  you  as- 
sured, your  faith,  like  St.  Peter's,  is  not  a 
production  of  flesh  a;nd  blood,  but  a  work  of 
that  grace  which  never  refuses  itself  to  the 
sighs  of  a  soul  seeking  it  with  so  much  vehe- 
ment desire. 

3.  The  cviflcnce  that  accompanies  faith  is 
our  next  article.  People  may  sincerely  de- 
ceive themselves  ;  indeed  erroneous  opinions 
are  generally  received  on  account  of  some 
glimmerings  that  hover  around  them  and 
dazzle  the  beholders.  The  belief  of  an  error 
seems,  in  some  cases,  to  be  grounded  on  prin- 
ciples as  clear  as  those  of  truth.  It  is  cer- 
tain, however,  that  truth  has  a.  brightness 
peculiar  to  itself;  an  evidence,  that  distin- 
guishes it  from  whatever  is  not  true.  The 
persuasion  of  a  man,  who  rests  on  demon- 
stration, is  altogether  diflerent  from  that  of 
him  who  is  seduced  by  sophisms.  Evidence 
has  its  prerogatives  and  its  rights.  Maintain 
who  will,  not  only  with  sincerity,  but  with 
all  the  positiveness  and  violence  of  which  he 
is  capable,  that  there  is  nothing  certain  ;  I 
am  fully  persuaded  that  I  have  evidence, 
incomparably  clearer,  of  the  opposite  opinion. 
In  like  manner,  when  I  affirm  that  I  have  an 
intelligent  soul,  and  that  I  animate  a  mate- 
rial body;  when  I  maintain  that  I  am  free,  that 
the  Creator  has  given  me  the  power  of  turn- 
ing my  eyes  to  the  east,  or  to  the  west ;  that 
while  the  Supreme  Being,  on  whom  I  own 
I  am  entirely  dependant,  shall  please  to  con- 
tinue me  in  my  present  state,  I  may  look  to 
the  east  or  to  the  west,  as  I  choose,  Vi^ithout 


being  forced  by  any  superior  power  to  turn 
my  eyes  toward  one  of  these  points,  rather 
than  towards  the  other  :  when  I  admit  these 
propositions,  I  And  myself  guided  by  bright- 
ness of  evidence,  which  it  is  impossible  to  find 
in  the  opposite  propositions.  A  sophist  may 
invent  some  objections,which  Icannotanswer; 
but  he  can  never  produce  reasons,  that  coun- 
terbalance those  which  determine  me  ;  he 
may  perplex,  but  he  can  never  persuade  me. 
In  like  manner,  an  infidel  may  unite  every 
argument  in  favour  of  a  system  of  infidel- 
ity ;  a  Turk  may  accumulate  all  his  imagina- 
tions in  support  of  Mohammedism  ;  a  Jew 
may  do  the  same  for  Judaism  ;  and  they  may 
silence  me,  but  they  can  never  dissuade  me 
from  Christianity.  The  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  has  peculiar  proof.  The  brightness  of 
that  evidence,  which  guides  the  fiiith  of  a 
Christian,  is  a  guarantee  of  the  purity  of  the 
principle  from  which  it  proceeds. 

4.  Observe  tlie  sacrifices  that  crown  the 
faith  of  a  Christian.  There  are  two  sorts  of 
these  :  the  one  comprehends  some  valuable 
possessions  ;  the  other  some  tyrannical  pas- 
sions. Religion  requires  sacrifices  of  the 
first  kind  in  times  of  persecution,  when  the 
most  indispensable  duties  of  a  Christian  are 
punished  as  atrocious  crimes ;  when  men, 
under  pretence  of  religion,  let  loose  their  raofe 
ag-ainst  them  who  sincerely  love  religion,  and 
when,  to  use  our  Saviour's  style,  they  think 
'  to  do  service  to  God,'  John  xvi.  2,  by  putting 
the  disciples  of  Christ  to  death.  Happy  they! 
who,  among  you,  my  brethren,  have  been 
enabled  to  make  sacrifices  of  this  kind  !  You 
bear,  I  see,  the  marks  of  the  disciples  of  a  cru- 
cified Savio\ir  ;  I  respect  the  cross  you  carry, 
and  I  venerate  your  wounds.  Yet  these  are 
doubtful  evidences  ofthat  faith  which  the  grace 
of  our  heavenly  Father  produces.  Sometimes 
they  even  proceed  from  a  disinclination  to  sac- 
rifices of  the  second  kind.  Infatuation  has  made 
confessors  ;  vain  glory  has  produced  martyrs  ; 
and  there  is  a  phenomenon  in  the  church,  the 
cross  of  qasuists,  and  the  most  insuperable 
olijection  against  the  doctrine  of  assurance 
and  perseverance  ;  that  is,  there  are  men,  who, 
after  they  have  resisted  the  greatest  trials, 
yield  to  the  least ;  men  who,  having  at  first 
fought  like  heroes,  at  last  fly  like  cowards ; 
who,  after  they  have  prayed  for  their  perse- 
cutors, for  those  who  confined  them  in  dun- 
geons, who,  to  use  the  psalmist's  language, 
'  ploughed  upon  their  backs,  and  made  long 
their  furrows,'  Ps.  cxxix.  3,  could  not  prevail 
with  themselves  on  the  eve  of  a  Lord's  supper- 
day  to  forgive  a  small  offence  committed  by  a 
brother,  by  one  of  the  household  of  faith. 
There  have  been  men  who,  after  they  had 
resisted  the  tortures  of  the  rack,  fell  into  the 
silly  snares  of  voluptuousness.  There  have 
been  men  who,  after  they  had  forsaken  all 
their  ample  fortunes,  and  rich  revenues, 
were  condemned  for  invading  the  property  of 
a  neighbour,  for  the  sake  of  a  trifling  sum, 
that  bore  no  proportion  to  that  which  they 
had  quitted  for  the  sake  of  religion.  O  thou 
'  deceitful,  and  desperately  wicked  heart  of 
man  !  O  thou  heart  of  man  !  who  can  know 
thee  !'  Jer.  xvii.  9.  Yet  study  thy  heart,  and 
thou  wilt  know  it.  Search  out  the  principle 
from  which  thine  actions  flow,  content  not 


174 


THE  VARIETY  OF  OPINIONS  ABOUT  CHRIST. 


[Ser.XVH. 


thyself  with  a  euperficial  self-examination  ; 
and  thou  wilt  find,  that  want  of  courage  to 
make  a  sacrifice  of  the  last  kind  is  sometimes 
that  which  produces  a  sacrifice  of  the  first. 
One  passion  indemnifies  us  for  the  sacrifice 
of  another.  But  to  resign  a  passion,  tlie  re- 
signation of  which  no  other  passion  requires  ; 
to  become  humble  without  indemnifying 
pride  by  courting  the  applause  that  men 
sometimes  give  to  humility ;  to  renounce 
pleasure  without  any  other  pleasure  than  that 
of  pleasing  the  Creator  ;  to  make  it  our  meat 
and  drink,  according  to  the  language  of  Scrip- 
ture, '  to  do  the  will  of  God ;  to  deny  one's 
self ;  to  crucify  the  flesh  with  the  affections 
and  lusts  ;  to  present  the  body  a  living  sacri- 
fice, holy,  acceptable  to  God,'  John  iv.  34  ; 
Matt.  xvii.  24  ;  Gal.  v.  24  ;  Rom.  xii.  1,  these 
are  the  characters  of  that  faith  which  flesh 
cannot  produce  ;  '  that  which  is  born  of  the 
flesh  is  flesh,'  John  iii.  6,  but  a  faith  which 
sacrifices  the  flesh  itself,  is  a  production  of 
■the  grace  of  the  '  Father  which  is  in  heaven.' 

5.  To  conclude,  St.  Peter's  faith  has  a  fifth 
character,  which  he  could  not  well  discover 
in  himself,  before  he  had  experienced  his  own 
frailty,  but  which  we,  who  have  a  complete 
history  of  his  life,  may  very  clearly  discern.  I 
■ground  the  happiness  of  St.  Peter,  and  the 
idea  I  form  of  his  faith,  on  the  very  nature  of 
his  fall.  Not  that  w-e  ought  to  consider  sin 
as  an  advantage,  nor  that  we  adopt  the  max- 
im of  those  who  put  sin  among  the  '  all  things 
which  work  together  for  good  to  them  that 
love  God,' Rom.  viii.  28.  Ah!  if  sin  be  an 
advantage,  may  I  be  forever  deprived  of  such 
,an  advantage  .'  May  a  constant  peace  between 
my  Creator  and  me  for  ever  place  me  in  a  hap- 
py incapacity  of  knowing  the  pleasure  of  re- 
conciliation with  him  !  It  is  true,  however, 
that  we  may  judge  by  the  nature  of  the  falls 
of  good  men  of  the  sincerity  of  their  faith, 
and  that  the  very  obstacles  which  theremain- 
:der  of  corruption  in  them  opposes  to  their 
happiness,  are,  properly  understood,  proofs  of 
the  unchangeableness  of  their  felicity. 

St.  Peter  fell  into  great  sin  afler  he  had 
made  the  noble  confession  in  the  text.  He 
committed  one  of  those  atrocious  crimes 
which  terrify  the  conscience,  trouble  the  joy 
of  salvation,  and  which  sometimes,  confound 
the  elect  with'the  reprobate.  Of  the  same  Je- 
sus, to  whom  St.  Peter  said  in  the  text, '  Thou 
art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God ;' 
and  elsewhere,  '  we  believe,  and  are  sure,  that 
thou  art  that  Christ, the  Son  of  the  living  God;' 
of  the  same  Jesus  he  afterward  said,  '  I  know 
not  the  man,'  John  vi.  G9 ;  Matt.  xxvi.  72. 
Ye  know  not  the  man  !  And  who,  then,  did 
you  say,  had  the  '  words  of  eternal  life  .''  Ye 
know  not  the  man  !  And  with  whom,  then, 
did  you  promise  to '  go  to  prison  and  to  death  ?' 
Ye  know  not  the  man  !  And  whom  have  j'ou 
followed,  and  whom  did  you  declare  to  be 
'  the  Son  of  the  living  God  ?'  Notwithstand- 
ing this  flagrant  crime  ;  notwithstanding  this 
denial,  the  scandal  of  all  ages,  and  an  eternal 
monument  of  human  weakness  ;  in  spite  of 
this  crime,  the  salvation  of  St.  Peter  was 
sure ;  he  was  the  object  of  the  promise, '  Si- 
mon, Simon,  behold  Satan  hath  desired  to 
have  you,  that  he  may  sift  you  as  wheat :  but 
I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy  faith  fail  not,' 


Luke  xxii.  31,  32.  And'  Blessed  art  thou,  Si- 
mon Barjona,'  was  not  only  true  but  infallible. 
The  very  nature  of  his  fall  proves  it.  Certain 
struggles,  which  precede  the  commission  of 
sin  ;  a  certain  infelicity,  that  is  felt  during  | 
the  commission  of  it ;  above  all,  certain  hor-  \ 

TOTS  which  follow  ;  an  inward  voice,  that 
cries.  Miserable  wretch !  what  hast  thou 
done  ?  A  certain  hell,  if  I  may  venture  so  to 
express  myself,  a  certain  hell,  the  flames  of 
which  divine  love  alone  can  kindle,  charac- 
terize the  falls  of  which  I  speak. 

This  article  is  for  you,  poor  sinners!  who 
are  so  hard  to  be  persuaded  of  the  mercy  of 
God  towards  you  ;  who  imagine  the  Deity 
sits  on  a  tribunal  of  vengeance,  surrounded 
with  thunder  and  lightning,  ready  to  strike 
your  guilty  heads.  Such  a  faith  as  St.  Peter's 
never  fails.  When  by  examining  your  own 
hearts,  and  the  histories  of  your  own  lives, 
you  discover  the  characters  which  we  havo 
described,  you  may  assure  yourselves,  that  all 
the  powers  of  hell  united  against  your  salva- 
tion can  never  prevent  it.  Cursed  be  the  man 
who  abuses  this  doctrine  !  Cursed  be  the  man 
who  poisons  this  part  of  Christian  divinity  ! 
Cursed  be  the  man  vi'ho  reasons  in  this  exe- 
crable manner  1  St.  Peter  committed  an  atro- 
cious crime,  in  an  unguarded  moment,  when 
reason,  troubled  by  a  revolution  of  the  senses, 
had  lost  the  power  of  reflection  :  I  therefore 
risk  nothing  by  committing  sin  coolly  and  de- 
liberately. St.  Peter  disguised  his  Christian- 
ity for  a  moment,  when  the  danger  of  losing 
his  life  made  him  lose  sight  of  the  reasons 
that  induce  people  to  confess  their  Christian- 
ity, then  I  may  disguise  mine  for  thirty  or 
forty  years  together,  and  teach  my  family  to 
act  the  same  hypocritical  part ;  then  I  may 
live  thirty  or  forty  years,  without  a  church, 
without  sacraments,  without  public  worship  ; 
when  I  have  an  opportunity,  I  may  loudly 
exclaim,  '  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 
living  God  ;'  and  when  that  confession  would 
injure  my  interest,  or  hazard  my  fortune,  or 
my  life,  I  may  hold  myself  always  in  readi- 
ness to  cry  as  loudly,  '  I  know  not  the  man  ;' 
I  may  abjure  that  religion  which  Jesus  Christ 
preached,  which  my  fathers  sealed  with  their 
blood,  and  for  which  a  '  cloud  of  witnesses,' 
Heb,  xii.  1,  my  contemporaries,  and  my  bre- 
thren, went,  some  into  banishment,  others 
into  dungeons,  some  to  the  galleys,  and  others 
to  the  stake.  Cursed  be  the  man  who  reasons 
in  this  execrable  manner.  •'  Ah  !  how  shall  I 
bless  whom  God  hath  not  blessed.' 

I  repeat  it  again,  such  a  faith  as  St.  Peter's 
never  fails,  and  the  very  nature  of  the  falls  of 
such  a  believer  proves  the  sincerity  and  the 
excellence  of  his  faith.  We  would  not  wish 
to  have  him  banish  entirely  from  his  soul  that 
fear  which  the  Scriptures  praise,  and  to  which 
they  attribute  grand  effects.  A  Christian,  an 
established  Christian  I  mean,  ought  to  live  in 
perpetual  vigilance,  he  ought  always  to  have 
these  passages  in  his  mind,  '  Be  not  high- 
minded,  but  fear.  Hold  that  fast  which  thou 
hast  that  no  man  take  thy  crown.  When  the 
righteous  turneth  away  from  his  righteous- 
ness shall  he  live .'  All  his  righteousness  that 
he  hath  done  shall  not  be  n)entioned,  in  his 
sin  he  shall  die,'  Rom.  xii.  20  ;  Rev.  iii.  11. 
and  Ezek.  xviii.  24.    From  these  Scriptures, 


Seb.  XVIII.]         THE  LITTLE  SUCCESS  OF  CHRIST'S  MINISTRY. 


175 


such  a  Christian  as  I  have  described  will  not 
infer  consequences  against  the  certainty  of 
his  salvation  ;  but  consequences  directly  con- 
trary ;  and  there  is  a  degree  of  perfection 
which  enables  a  Christian  soldier  even  in 
spite  of  some  momentary  repulses  in  war,  to 
sing  this  triumphant  song, '  Who  shall  sepa- 
rate me  from  the  love  of  Christ  ?  In  all  things 
I  am  more  than  conqueror,  through  him  that 
loved 'me  !  Thanks  be  unto  God,  who  always 
causeth  me  to  triumph  in  Christ !'  Rom.  viii. 
35.  37,  and  2  Cor.  ii.  14, 

O  !  how  amiable,  my  brethren,  is  Christian- 
ity !  How  proportional  to  the  wants  of  men !  O! 
how  delightful  to  recollect  its  comfortable  doc- 
trines, in  those  sad  moments,  in  which  sin  ap- 
pears,after  we  have  fallen  into  it,  in  all  its  black- 
ness and  horror!  How  delightful  to  recollect  its 
comfortable  doctrines  in  those  distressing  pe- 
riods, in  which  a  guilty  conscience  drives  us  to 
the  verge  of  hell,  holds  us  on  the  brink  of  the 
precipice,  and  obliges  us  to  hear  those  terrify 
ing  exclamations  which  arise  from  the  bottom 
of  the  abyss  :  '  The  fearful,  the  unbelieving, 
the  abominable,  whoremongers,  and  all  liars, 
shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake  which  burn- 
eth  with  fire  and  brimstone  !'  Rev.  xxi.  8. 
How  happy  then  to  be  able  to  say,  I  have  sin- 
ned indeed  !  I  have  repeatedly  committed  the 
crimes  which  plunge  men  into  '  the  lake  that 
faurneth  with  fire  and  brimstone !'    I  have  re- 


peatedly been  fearful  and  unclean  !  perhaps  I 
may  be  so  again  !  Perhaps  I  may  forget  all  the 
resolutions  I  have  made  to  devote  myself  for 
ever  to  God  !  Perhaps  I  may  violate  my  solemn 
oaths  to  my  sovereign  Lord !  Perhaps  1  may 
again  deny  my  Redeemer !  Perhaps,  should  I 
be  again  tried  with  the  sight  of  scaffolds  and 
stakes,  I  might  again  say, '  I  know  not  the 
man  !'  But  yet,  I  know  I  love  him  !  Nothing,  I 
am  sure,  will  ever  be  able  to  eradicate  my  love 
to  him  !  I  know,  if  1  '  love  him,'  it  is  '  because 
he  first  loved  me,'  1  John  iv.  19  ;  and  I  know, 
that  he, '  having  loved  his  own  who  are  in  the 
world,  loved  them  unto  the  end,'  John  xiii.  1. 
O  my  God !  What  would  become  of  us 
without  a  religion  that  preached  such  comfort- 
able truths  to  us .''  Let  us  devote  ourselves 
for  ever  to  this  religion,  my  brethren.  The 
more  it  strengthens  us  against  the  horrors 
which  sin  inspires,  the  more  let  us  endeavour 
to  surmount  them  by  resisting  sin.  May  yon 
be  adorned  with  these  holy  dispositions,  my 
brethren  !  May  you  be  admitted  to  the  eter- 
nal pleasures  wliich  they  procure,  and  may 
each  of  you  be  able  to  apply  to  himself  the 
declaration  of  Jesus  Christ  to  St.  Peter, 
'  Blessed  art  thou,  Simon  Barjona  ;  for  flesh 
and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but 
my  Father,  who  is  in  heaven.'  God  grant 
you  these  blessings  !  To  him  be  honour  and 
glory  for  ever.     Amen. 


SERMON  XVIII. 


THE  LITTLE  SUCCESS  OF  CHRIST'S  MINISTRY." 


Romans  x.  21. 

^U  day  long  J  have  stretched  forth  my  hands  unto  a  disobedient  and  gainsay- 
ing people. 

The  object  that  St.  Paul  presents  to  our 
view  in  the  text,  makes  very  different  im- 
pressions on  the  mind,  according  to  the  differ- 
ent sides  on  which  it  is  viewed.  If  we  con- 
eider  it  in  itself,  it  is  a  prodigy,  a  prodigy 
which  confounds  reason,  and  shakes  faith. 
Yes,  when  we  read  the  history  of  Ciirist's 
ministry  ;  when  the  truth  of  the  narrations  of 
the  evangelists  is  proved  beyond  a  doubt ; 
when  we  transport  ourselves  back  to  the  pri- 
mitive ages  of  the  church,  and  see,  with  our 
own  eyes,  the  virtues  and  the  miracles  of 
Jesus  Christ ;  we  cannot  believe  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  put  the  words  of  the  text  into  the 
mouth  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world :  '  All  day 
long  I  have  stretched  forth  my  hands  unto  a 
disobedient  and  gainsaying  people.'  It  should 
eeem,  if  Jesus  Christ  had  displaj'ed  so  many 
virtues,  and  operated  so  many  miracles,  there 
could  not  have  been  one  infidel ;  not  one  Jew, 
who  could  have  refused  to  embrace  Chris- 
tianity, nor  one  libertine,  who  could  have  re- 
fused to  have  become  a  good  man :  one  would 


*  The  style  of  reasoning  which  runs  through  this 
sermon,  and  the  whole  of  its  moral  character,  must 

Slace  the  author  among  the  first  of  preachers,  and  the 
est  of  men.    J.  S. 


think,  all  thesynagogue  must  have  fallen  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  desired  an  ad- 
mission into  his  church. 

But  when,  after  we  have  considered  th© 
unsuccessfulness  of  Christ's  ministry  in  itself, 
we  consider  it  in  relation  to  the  ordinary  con- 
duct of  mankind,  we  find  nothing  striking, 
nothing  astonishing,  nothing  contrary  to  the 
common  course  of  events.  An  obstinate  re- 
sistance of  the  strongest  motives,  the  ten- 
derest  invitations,  interests  the  most  impor- 
tant, and  demonstrations  the  most  evident,  is 
not,  we  perceive,  an  unheard-of  thing  :  and 
instead  of  breaking  out  into  vain  exclama- 
tions, and  crying,  0  times  .'  0  maimers  .'  we 
say  with  the  wise  man,  '  That  which  is  done,, 
is  that  which  shall  be  done  :  and  there  is  no 
new  thing  under  the  sun,'  Eccles.  i.  9. 

I  have  insensibly  laid  out,  my  brethren,  thtf 
plan  of  this  discourse.  I  design,  first,  to  show 
you  the  unsuccessfulness  of  Christ's  ministry 
as  a  prodigy,  as  an  eternal  opprobrium  to  that 
nation  in  which  he  exercised  it.  And  I  in- 
tend, secondly,  to  remove  your  astonishment, 
after  I  have  excited  it ;  and,  by  making  a  few 
reflections  on  you  yourselves,  to  produce  in 
you  a  conviction,  yea, perhaps  a  preservation, 
of  a  certain  uniformitj*  of  corruption,  which 


176 


THE  LITTLE  SUCCESS  OF 


[SzR.  xvin. 


we  cannot  help  attributing  to  all  places,  and 
to  all  times. 

O  God,  by  my  description  of  the  infidelity 
of  the  ancient  Jews  to-day,  confirm  us  in  the 
faith  !  May  the  portraits  of  the  depravity  of 
our  times,  which  I  shall  be  obliged  to  exhibit 
to  this  people,  in  order  to  verify  the  sacred 
history  of  the  past,  inspire  us  with  as  much 
contrition  on  account  of  our  own  disorders, 
as  astonishment  at  the  disorders  of  tlie  rest 
of  mankind  !  Great  God  !  animate  our  me- 
ditations to  this  end  with  tliy  Holy  Spirit. 
May  this  people,  whom  thou  dost  cultivate  in 
the  tenderest  manner,  be  an  exception  to  the 
too  general  corruption  of  the  rest  of  the  world  ! 
Amen. 

I.  Let  us  consider  the  unbelief  of  the  Jews 
as  a  prodigy  of  hardness  of  heart,  an  eternal 
ehame  and  opprobrium  to  tlie  Jewish  nation, 
and  let  us  spend  a  few  moments  in  lamenting 
it.  We  have  supposed,  that  the  text  speaks 
of  their  infidelity.  Christians  wlio  regard 
the  authority  of  St.  Paul,  will  not  dispute  it: 
for  the  apostle  employs  three  whole  cliapters 
of  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  the  ninth,  tiie 
tenth,  and  the  eleventh,  to  remove  tlie  objec- 
tions which  the  casting  off  of  the  Jews  might 
raise  against  Cliristianity,  among  those  of 
that  nation  who  had  embraced  the  gospel. 

One  of  the  most  weighty  arguments  which 
he  uses  to  remove  this  stumbling-block  is, 
the  prediction  of  their  unbelief  in^'their  pro- 
phecies ;  and  among  the  other  prophecies 
which  he  alleges  is  my  text,  quoted  from  the 
Bixty-fifth  of  Isaiah. 

It  is  worthy  of  observation,  that  all  the 
other  passages,  wliich  the  apostle  cites  on  this 
occasion  from  the  prophets,  were  taken  by 
the  ancient  Jews  in  the  same  sense  that  the 
apostle  gives  them.  This  may  be  proved 
from  the  Talmud.  I  do  not  know  a  more  ab- 
surd book  than  the  Talmud  :  but  one  is,  in 
some  sort,  repaid  for  the  fatigue  of  turning  it 
over  by  an  important  discovery,  so  to  speak, 
which  every  page  of  that  book  makes  ;  that 
is,  that  whatever  pains  the  Jews  liave  been 
at  to  enervate  the  arguments  which  we  have 
taken  from  the  theology  of  their  ancestors, 
they  themselves  cannot  help  preserving  proofs 
of  their  truth,  I  would  compare,  on  this  ar- 
ticle, the  Talmud  of  the  Jews  with  the  mass- 
book  of  the  church  of  Rome.  Nothing  can 
be  more  opposite   to  the  doctrine  of  the  gos- 

Eel,  and  to  that  of  the  reformation,  than  the 
Lomish  missal :  yet  we  discover  in  it  some 
traces  of  the  doctrine  of  the  primitive  church  ; 
and  although  a  false  turn  is  given  to  much  of 
the  ancient  phraseology,  yet  it  is  easy  to  dis- 
cover the  primitive  divinity  in  this  book,  so 
that  some  authors  have  thouglit  the  missal 
the  most  eligible  refutation  of  the  worsliip 
prescribed  by  tlie  missal  itself  We  consider 
the  Talmud,  and  other  writings  of  the  modern 
Jews,  in  the  same  Hght.  The  ancient  Jews, 
we  see,  took  the  prophecies  wliicli  St.  Paul 
alleges,  in  the  three  chapters  that  I  have 
quoted,  in  the  same  sense  in  whicli  the  apos- 
tle took  them,  and  like  hiin,  understood  them 
of  the  infidelity  of  the  Jews  in  the  time  of  the 
Messiah. 

St.  Paul,  in  Rom.  ix.  25,  quotes  a  prophecy 
from  Hosea,  '  I  will  call  them  my  people, 
which  wore  not  my  people.'     The  ancient  ' 


Jews  took  this  prophecy  in  the  apostle's  sense, 
and  we  have  this  gloss  on  the  words  of  Ho- 
sea still  in  the  Talmud  :  '  The  time  shall  come, 
wherein  they,  who  were  not  my  people,  shall 
turn  unto  the  Lord,  and  shall  become  my 
people,'  chap.  ii.  23. 

St.  Paul,  in  Rom.  ix.  23,  cites  a  prophecy 
from  Isaiah,  '  Behold,  I  lay  in  Sion  a  stum- 
bling-stone,' chap.  viii.  14.  The  ancient  Jews 
took  this  prophecy  in  the  same  sense,  and  wo 
have  still  this  gloss  in  the  Talmud ;  '  When 
the  Son  of  David  shall  come,'  that  is  to  say, 
in  the  time  of  the  Messiah,  '  the  two  houses 
of  the  fathers,'  that  is,  the  kingdom  of  Israel, 
and  that  of  Judali  (these  two  kingdoms  in- 
cluded the  whole  nation  of  the  Jews,)  '  the 
two  houses  of  the  fathers  shall  be  cast  off, 
according  as  it  is  written,  Behold,  I  lay  in 
Sion  a  stumbling-stone.' 

The  apostle,  in  Rom  x.  19,  alleges  a  pas- 
sage from  Deuteronomy  ;  '  I  will  provoke 
you  to  jealousy  by  them  that  are  no  people,' 
chap,  xxxii.  21.  The  Jews,  both  ancient  and 
modern,  take  this  prophecy  in  the  same 
sense,  and  one  of  their  books,  entitled,  '  The 
book  by  excellence,'  explains  the  whole  chap- 
ter of  the  time  of  the  Messiah. 

Our  text  is  taken,  by  St.  Paul  from  Isai- 
ah's prophecy, '  All  day  long  I  have  stretched 
forth  my  hands  unto  a  disobedient  and  gain- 
saying people.'  The  ancient  Jews  took  the 
words  in  the  same  sense,  as  we  can  prove  by 
the  writings  of  the  modern  Jews.  Aben 
Ezra  quotes  an  ancient  Rabbi,  who  explains 
the  prophecy  more  like  a  Christian  than  a 
Jew.  These  are  his  words  :  '  I  have  found 
the  nations  which  called  not  on  nie  :  but,  as 
for  my  people,  in  vain  have  I  stretched  out 
my  hands  unto  them.'  St.  Paul  proves  that 
the  hardness  of  heart  of  the  Jewish  na- 
tion was  foretold  by  the  prophets,  and  the 
Jews,  in  like  manner,  have  preserved  a  tra- 
dition of  the  infidelity  of  their  nation  in  tiie 
time  of  the  Messiah  :  hence  this  saying  of  a 
Rabbi, '  God  abode  three  years  and  a  half  on 
Mount  Olivet  in  vain  ;  in  vain  he  cried.  Seek 
}'e  the  Lord  !  and  therefore  am  I  found  of 
them  who  sought  me  not.' 

We  have,  then,  a  right  to  say,  that  my  text 
speaks  of  the  unbelief  of  the  Jews  in  the  time 
of  the  Messiah.  This  we  were  to  prove,  and 
to  prove  this  infidelity  is  to  exhibit  a  prodigy 
of  hardness  of  heart,  the  eternal  opprobrium 
and  shame  of  the  Jewish  nation.  This  is  the 
first  point  of  light  in  which  we  are  to  con- 
sider unbelief,  and  the  smallest  attention  is 
sufficient  to  discover  its  turpitude. 

Consider  the  pains  that  Jesus  Christ  took 
to  convince  and  to  reform  the  Jews.  To  them 
he  consecrated  the  first  functions  of  his  min- 
istry ;  he  never  went  out  of  their  towns  and 
provinces  ;  he  seemed  to  have  come  only  for 
them,  and  to  have  brought  a  gospel  formed 
on  the  plan  of  the  law,  and  restrained  to  the 
Jewish  nation  alone.  The  evangelists  have 
remarked  these  things,  and  he  himself  said, 
'  I  am  not  sent  but  unto  the  lost  sheep  of  the 
house  of  Israel,'  JNIatt.  xv.  24.  When  he 
sent  his  apostles,  lie  expressly  commanded 
them  '  not  to  go  into  the  way  of  the  Gentiles, 
and  into  any  city  of  the  Samaritans  to  enter 
not,'  chap.  x.  5.  And  the  apostles,  at\er  his 
ascension,  began  to  exercise  their  ministry 


Sbr.  XVIII.] 


CHRIST'S    MINISTRY. 


177 


after  his  example,  by  saying  to  the  Jews, 
'Unto  you  first,  God  sent  his  Son  Jesus  to 
bless  you,'  Acts  iii.  26. 

Consider,  farther,  the  means  which  Jesus 
\Christ  employed  to  recover  this  people.  Here 
a  boundless  field  of  meditation  opens  :  but  the 
limits  of  these  exercises  forbid  my  enlarging, 
and  I  shall  only  indicate  the  principal  ar- 
ticles. 

What  proper  means  of  conviction  did  Jesus 
omit  in  the  course  of  his  ministry  among  this 
people  .''  Are  miracles  proper  .''  '  Though  ye 
believe  not  me,  believe  the  works,'  John  x. 
32.  Were  extraordinary  discourses  proper? 
'If  I  had  not  come  and  spoken  unto  them, 
they  had  not  had  sin  ;  but  now  they  have  no 
cloak  for  their  sin,'  chap.  xv.  22.  Is  inno- 
cence proper  .''  '  Which  of  you  convinceth  me 
of  sin.-"  chap.  viii.  40.  Is  the  authority  of 
the  prophets  necessary  ^  '  Search  the  Scrip- 
tures, for  they  are  they  that  testify  of  me,' 
chap.  V.  39.  Is  it  proper  to  reason  with  peo- 
ple on  their  own  principles  ^  '  Had  ye  believ- 
ed Moses,  ye  would  have  believed  me,'  ver. 
46.  '  Is  it  not  written  in  your  law,  I  said.  Ye 
are  gods  .^  If  he  called  them  gods,  unto  whom 
the  word  of  God  came ;  say  ye  of  him,  whom 
the  Father  hath  sanctified,  and  sent  into  the 
world.  Thou  blaspheniest ;  because  I  said,  I 
am  the  Son  of  God .'"  chap.  x.  34 — 36. 

Consider  again,  the  different  forms,  if  I 
may  be  allowed  to  speak  so,  which  Jesus 
Christ  put  on  to  insinuate  himself  into  their 
minds.  Sometimes  he  addressed  them  by 
condescension,  submitting  to  the  rites  of  the 
law,  receiving  circumcision,  going  up  to 
Jerusalem,  observing  the  sabbath,  and  cele- 
brating their  festivals.  At  other  times  he 
exhibited  a  noble  liberty,  freeing  himself 
from  the  rites  of  the  law,  travelling  on  sab- 
bath-days, and  neglecting  their  feasts.  Some- 
times he  conversed  familiarly  with  them, 
eating  and  drinking  with  them,  mixing  him- 
self in  their  entertainments,  and  assisting  at 
their  marriage-feasts.  At  other  times  he  put 
on  the  austerity  of  retirement,  fleeing  from 
their  societies,  retreating  into  the  deserts, 
devoting  himself  for  whole  nights  to  medita- 
tion and  prayer,  and  for  whole  weeks  to  pray- 
ing and  fasting.  Sometimes  he  addressed 
himself  to  them  by  a  graceful  gentleness : 
'  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour,  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.  Learn 
of  me,  for  I  am  meek,  and  lowly  in  heart,  O 
Jerusalem,  Jerusalem  !  thou  that  killest  the 
prophets,  and  stonest  them  which  are  sent 
unto  thee,  how  often  would  I  have  gathered 
thy  children  together,  even  as  a  hen  gatlier- 
eth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye 
would  not !'  Matt.  xi.  28,  29;  x.xiii.  37.  At 
other  times  he  tried  them  by  severity,  he 
drove  them  from  the  temple,  he  denounced 
the  judgments  of  God  against  them;  he  de- 
picted a  future  day  of  vengeance,  and,  show- 
ing Jerusalem  covered  with  the  carcasses  of 
the  slain,  the  holy  mountain  flowing  with 
blood,  and  the  temple  consuming  in  flames, 
he  cried,  Wo,  rco  to  the  Pharisees !  Wo  to 
the  scribes  !  Wo  to  all  the  doctors  of  the 
law !  ver.  13,  &c. 

Jesus  Christ,  in  the  whole  of  his  advent, 
answered  the  characters  by  which  the  pro- 
phets had  described   the   Messiah.      What 


characters  do  you  Jews  expect  in  a  Messiah, 
which  Jesus  Christ  doth  not  bear .''  Born  of 
your  nation, — in  your  country, — of  a  virgin, 
— of  the  family  of  David, — of  the  tribe  of 
Judah, — in  Bethlehem, — after  the  seventy 
weeks, — at  the  expiration  of  your  grandeur, 
and  before  the  departure  of  your  sceptre. 
On  one  hand,  '  despised  and  rejected  of  men, 
a  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  with  grief; 
stricken,  smitten  of  God,  and  afflicted ; 
wounded  for  your  transgressions,  bruised  for 
your  iniquities  ;  brought  as  a  lamb  to  the 
slaughter,  cut  off  from  the  land  of  the  living,' 
as  your  prophets  had  foretold,  Isa.  liii.  3 — 8. 
But  on  the  other  hand,  glorious  and  magnani- 
mous, '  prolonging  his  days,  seeing  his  seed, 
the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  prospering  in  his 
hand,  justifying  many  by  his  knowledge,  bless- 
ed of  God,  girding  his  sword  upon  his  thigh, 
and  riding  prosperously  on  the  word  of  his 
truth,'  as  the  same  prophets  had  taught  you 
to  hope,  ver.  10,  11,  and  Psal.  xlv.  2,  3. 
What  Messiah,  then,  do  you  wait  for .-'  If 
you  require  another  gospel,  produce  us  ano- 
ther law.  If  you  reject  Jesus  Christ,  reject 
Moses.  If  you  want  other  accomplishments, 
show  us  other  prophecies.  If  you  will  not 
receive  our  apostles,  discard  your  own  pro- 
phets. 

Such  was  the  conduct  of  Jesus  to  the  Jews. 
What  success  had  he .''  What  effects  were 
produced  by  all  his  labour,  and  by  all  his 
love ;  by  so  many  conclusive  sermons,  and 
so  many  pressing  exhortations ;  by  so  much 
demonstrative  evidence,  by  so  many  exact 
characters,  and  so  many  shining  miracles ; 
by  so  much  submission,  and  so  much  eleva- 
tion ;  by  so  much  humility,  and  so  much  glo- 
ry ;  and,  so  to  speak,  by  so  many  different 
forms,  which  Jesus  Christ  took  to  insinuate 
himself  into  the  minds  of  this  people  .''  You 
hear  in  the  words  of  the  text ;  '  All  day  long 
I  have  stretched  forth  my  hands  unto  a  dis- 
obedient and  gainsaying  people.'  The  malice 
of  this  people  prevailed  over  the  mercy  of 
God,  and  mercy  was  useless  except  to  a  few. 
The  ancient  Jews  were  infidels,  and  most  of 
the  modern  Jews  persist  in  infidelity.  Is 
not  this  a  prodigy  of  hardness .-"  Is  not  this 
an  eternal  reproach  and  shame  to  the  Jewish 
nation .' 

II.  But  we  have  pursued  the  unbelief  ot 
the  Jews  far  enough  in  the  first  point  of  view; 
let  us  proceed  to  consider  it  with  a  view  to 
what  we  proposed  in  the  second  place.  We 
will  show  that  men's  obstinate  resistance  of 
the  most  pressing  motives,  the  most  impor- 
tant interests,  and  the  most  illustrious  exam- 
ples, is  not  an  unheard-of  thing  :  and  we 
will  prove,  that  all  which  results  from  the 
example  of  the  unbelieving  Jews,  is  a  proof 
of  the  uniformity  of  the  depravity  of  man- 
kind ;  that  they  who  lived  in  the  times  of  the 
first  planters  of  Christianity,  resembled  the 
greatest  part  of  those  who  lived  before  them, 
and  of  those  who  have  lived  since.  Would 
to  God  this  article  were  less  capable  of  evi- 
dence !  But,  alas  !  we  are  going  to  conduct 
you  step  by  step  to  demonstration. 

First,  We  will  take  a  cursory  view  of  an- 
cient history,  and  we  will  show  you,  that  the 
conduct  of  the  unbelieving  Jews  presents 
nothing  new,    nothing   that   had  not  been 


178 


THE  LITTLE  SUCCESS  OF 


[Seh.  XVIIL 


done  before,  nothing  contrary  to  the  univer- 
sal practice  of  mankind  from  Adam  to  Jesus 
Christ. 

Secondly,  We  will  go  a  step  farther,  and 
Bhow  you  a  whole  community,  who,  amidst 
the  light  of  the  gospel,  reject  the  doctrines 
of  the  gospel,  for  the  same  theological  rea- 
sons for  which  the  Jews  rejected  it. 

Thirdly,  We  will  produce  an  object  yet 
more  astonishing:  a  multitude  of  Christians, 
whom  the  light  of  the  reformation  has  freed 
from  the  superstition  that  covered  the 
church,  guilty  of  the  very  excesses  vi'hich 
we  lament  in  the  Jews  and  in  superstitious 
Christians. 

Fourthly,  We  will  go  farther  still,  we  will 
suppose  this  congregation  in  the  place  of  the 
ancient  Jews,  and  we  will  prove,  that,  had 
you  been  in  their  places,  you  would  have  done 
as  they  did. 

The  last  is  only  supposition ;  we  will,  there- 
fore, in  the  fifth  place,  realize  it,  and  show 
you,  not  that  you  would  have  acted  like  the 
Jews,  had  you  been  in  their  circumstances  ; 
but  that  you  really  do  act  so;  and  we  will 
show  you  an  image  of  yourselves  in  the  con- 
duct of  the  ancient  Jews. 

t.  The  infidelity  of  those  who  heard  the 
sermons  of  the  first  heralds  of  religion, 
might  surprise  us,  if  truth  and  virtue  had  al- 
ways been  embraced  by  the  greatest  number, 
and  if  the  multitude  had  not  always  taken 
the  side  of  vice  and  falsehood.  But  survey 
the  principal  periods  of  the  church  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world  to  that  time,  and  you 
will  see  a  very  different  conduct. 

When  there  was  only  one  man  and  one 
woman  in  the  world,  and  when  these  two, 
who  came  from  the  immediate  hand  of  God, 
could  not  question  either  his  existence  or  his 
perfections,  they  both  preferred  the  direc- 
tion of  the  devil  before  that  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  who  had  just  brought  them  into  ex- 
istence. Gen.  iii. 

Did  God  give  them  a  posterity  ?  The 
children  walked  in  the  criminal  steps  of  their 
parents.  The  fear  and  the  worship  of  the 
true  God  were  confined  to  the  family  of  Seth, 
to  a  small  number  of  believers,  whom  the 
Scripture  calls,  '  sons  of  God,'  chap.  vi.  2, 
while  'the  sons  of  men,'  acknowledged  no 
other  religion  but  their  own  fancies,  no  other 
law  but  their  own  lust. 

Did  mankind  multiply  ?  Errors  and  sins 
multiplied  with  them.  The  Scripture  says, 
*  All  flesh  had  corrupted  its  way  upon  the 
earth.  The  Lord  repented  that  he  had  made 
man  on  tlie  earth,'  ver.  12,  and  by  a  univer- 
sal deluge  exterminated  the  whole  impious 
race,  except  '  eight  persons,'  1  Pet.  iii.  20. 

Were  these  eight  persons  freed  from  the 
general  flood.'  They  peopled  a  new  world 
with  a  succession  as  wicked  as  that  which  in- 
habited the  old  world,  and  which  was  drown- 
ed in  the  flood.  They  conspired  together 
against  God,  and  left  to  future  ages  a  monu- 
ment of  their  insolent  pride,  '  a  tower,  the 
top'  of  which,  they  said  should  '  reach  to 
heaven,'  Gen.  xi.  4. 

Were  these  sons  of  presumption  dispersed? 
Their  depravity  and  their  idolatry  they  car- 
ried with  theui,  and  with  both  they  infected 
all  the  places  of  their  exile.     Except  Abra- 


ham, his  family,  and  a  small  number  of  be- 
lievers, nobody  worshipped  or  knew  the  true 
God. 

Were  the  descendants  of  this  patriarch 
multiplied  into  a  nation,  and  loaded  with  the 
distinguishing  blessings  of  God  .'  They  dis- 
tinguished themselves  also  by  their  excesses. 
Under  the  most  august  legislation,  and 
against  the  clearest  evidence,  they  adopted 
notions  the  most  absurd,  and  perpetrated 
crimes  the  most  unjust.  They  carried  the 
tabernacle  of  Moloch  in  the  wilderness  ;  they 
proposed  the  stoning  of  Moses  and  Aaron  ; 
they  preferred  the  slavery  of  Egypt  before 
the  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God. 

Were|  these  people  conducted  by  a  train 
of  miracles  to  the  land  of  promise  ?  The 
blessings  that  God  bestowed  so  liberally  on 
them,  they  generally  turned  into  weapons  of 
war  against  their  benefactor.  They  shook 
off  the  gentle  govei*nment  of  that  God  who 
had  chosen  them  for  his  subjects,  for  the  sake 
of  submitting  to  the  iron  rods  of  such  tyrants 
as  those  who  reigned  over  neighbouring  na- 
tions. 

Did  God  exceed  their  requests ;  did  he 
give  them  princes,  who  were  willing  to  sup- 
port religion  ?  They  lebelled  against  them  ; 
they  made  a  scandalous  schism,  and  render- 
ed that  supreme  worship  to  images  which 
was  due  to  none  but  to  the  supreme  God. 

2.  The  people,  of  whom  we  have  been 
speaking,  lived  before  the  time  of  Jesus 
Christ :  but  I  am  to  show  you,  in  the  second 
place,  a  whole  community,  enlightened  by 
the  gospel,  retaining  the  same  principle  which 
was  the  chief  cause  of  the  infidelity  of  the 
Jews ;  I  mean  a  blind  submission  to  ecclesi- 
astical rulers. 

The  Jewish  doctors,  who  were  contempo- 
rary with  Jesus  Christ,  assumed  a  sovereign 
power  over  the  people's  minds;  and  the 
Rabbins,  who  have  succeeded  them,  have 
done  their  utmost  to  maintain,  and  to  extend 
it.  Hence  the  superb  titles.  Wise  man,  Fa- 
ther, Prince,  King,  yea  God.  Hence  the 
absolute  tyranny  of  decisions  of  what  is 
true,  and  what  is  false ;  what  is  venial,  and 
what  is  unpardonable.  Hence  the  seditious 
maxims  of  those  of  them,  who  affirm  that 
they,  who  violate  their  canons,  are  worthy 
of  death.  Hence  those  blasphemous  declara- 
tions, which  say,  that  they  have  a  right  of 
giving  what  gloss  they  please  to  the  law, 
should  it  be  even  against  the  law  itself;  on 
condition,  however,  of  their  affirming,  that 
they  were  assisted  by,  I  know  not  what  su-  J 
pernatural  aid,  which  they  call  Bath-col,  that  1 
is,  '  the  daughter  of  a  voice.'  ' 

Now,  my  brethren,  when  an  ecclesiastic 
has  arrived  at  a  desire  of  domination  over 
the  minds  of  the  people,  and  when  the  peo- 
ple are  sunk  so  low  as  to  suffer  their  ecclesi- 
astics to  exercise  sucli  a  dominion,  there  ia 
no  opinion  too  fantastic,  no  prepossession  too 
absurd,  no  doctrine  too  monstrous,  to  become 
an  article  of  faith.  It  has  been  often  objected 
against  us,  that,  to  allow  every  individual 
the  liberty  of  examining  religion  for  him- 
self, is  to  open  a  door  to  heresy.  But  if  ever 
recrimination  were  just,  it  is  proper  here. 
To  give  fallible  men  the  power  of  finally  de- 
termining matters  of  faith,  is  to  throw  open 


Ser.  XVIII.] 


CHRIST'S  MINISTRY. 


179 


flood-gates  to  tlie  most  palpable  errors. 
Thou  eternal  Truth  !  tliou  sovereign  Teach- 
er of  the  church !  thou  High-priest  of  the 
new  covenant !  thou  alone  hast  a  right  to 
claim  a  tacit  submision  of  reason,  an  impli- 
cit obedience  of  faith.  And  thou,  sacred 
book!  thou  authentic  gift  of  heaven!  when 
my  faith  and  my  religion  are  in  question, 
thou  art  the  only  tribunal  at  which  I  stand  I 
But  as  for  the  doctrine  of  blind  submission, 
I  repeat  it  again,  it  will  conduct  us  to  the 
most  palpable  errors. 

With  the  help  of  implicit  faith,  I  could 
prove  that  a  priest  has  the  power  of  deposing 
a  king,  and  of  transmitting  the  supreme 
power  to  a  tyrant. 

With  this  principle,  I  could  prove  that  a 
frail  man  can  call  down  the  Saviour  of  the 
world  at  his  will,  place  him  on  an  altar,  or 
confine  him  in  a  box. 

With  this  principle,  I  could  prove  that 
what  my  smell  takes  for  bread  is  not  bread  ; 
that  what  my  eyes  take  for  bread  is  not 
bread ;  that  what  my  taste  takes  for  bread 
is  not  bread:  and  so  on. 

With  this  principle,  I  could  prove  that  a 
body  which  is  whole  in  one  place,  is  at  the 
same  time  whole  in  another  place  ;  whole  at 
Rome,  and  whole  at  Constantinople  ;  yea 
more,  all  entire  in  one  host,  and  all  entire  in 
another  host ;  yea  more  astonishing  still,  all 
entire  in  one  host,  and  all  entire  in  ten  thou- 
sand hosts ;  yea  more  amazing  still,  all  en- 
tire in  ten  thousand  hosts,  and  all  entire  in 
each  part  of  these  ten  thousand  hosts  ;  all  en- 
tire in  the  first  particle,  all  entire  in  the  se- 
cond, and  so  on  without  number  or  end. 

With  this  principle,  I  could  prove  that  a 
penitent  is  obliged  to  tell  me  all  the  secrets 
of  his  heart ;  and  that  if  he  conceal  any  of  its 
recesses  from  me,  he  is,  on  that  very  account 
excluded  from  all  the  privileges  of  penitence. 

With  this  principle,  I  could  prove  that  mo- 
ney given  to  the  church  delivers  souls  from 
purgatory ;  and  that,  according  to  the  Bishop 
of  Meaux,  always  when  the  souls  in  that 
prison  hear  the  sound  of  the  sums  which  are 
given  for  their  freedom,  they  fly  towards 
heaven. 

3.  You  have  seen  a  whole  community  pro- 
fessing Christianity,  and  yet  not  believing  the 
doctrines  of  Christ,  through  the  prevalence  of 
the  same  principle,  which  render  the  ancient 
Jews  infidels.  We  proceed  now  to  show  you 
something  more  extraordinary  still ;  a  multi- 
tude of  Christians,  instructed  in  the  truths 
of  the  gospel,  freed  by  the  light  of  the  reform- 
ation from  the  darkness  with  which  supersti- 
tion had  covered  the  gospel ;  and  yet  seducing 
themselves  like  the  ancient  Jews,  because 
their  unworthy  passions  have  rendered  their 
seduction  necessary. 

Recall,  my  dear  fellow-countrymen,  the 
happy  days  in  which  you  were  allowed  to 
make  an  open  profession  of  your  religion  in 
the  place  of  your  nativity.      Amidst  repeated 

})rovocations  of  the  divine  patience,  which,  at 
ast,  drew  down  the  anger  of  God  on  our  un- 
happy churches,there  was  one  virtue, it  must  be 
owned,  that  shone  with  peculiar  glory,  I  mean, 
zeal  for  public  worship.  Whether  mankind 
have  in  general  more  attachment  to  the  exte- 
rior than  to  the  inward  part  of  divine  worship  ; 


or  whether  the  continualfear  of  the  extinction 
of  that  light,  which  we  enjoyed,  contributed  to 
render  it  sacred  to  us ;  or  whatever  were  the 
cause,  our  ancient  zeal  for  the  public  exterior 
worship  of  our  religion  may  be  equalled,  but 
it  can  never  be  exceeded. 

Ye  happy  inhabitants  of  these  provinces ! 
We  are  ready  to  yield  to  you  the  pre-emi- 
nence in  all  other  virtues  :  this  only  we  dispute 
with  you.  The  singing-  of  a  psalm  was 
eno-ugh  to  fire  that  vivacity,  which  is  essen- 
tial to  our  nation.  Neither  distance  nor  place, 
nor  inclemency  of  weather,  could  dispense 
with  our  attendance  on  a  religious  exercise. 
Long  and  wearisome  journeys,  through  frost 
and  snows,  we  took  to  come  at  those  churches 
which  were  allowed  us  for  public  worship. 
Communion  days  were  triumphant  d^ys,  which 
all  were  determined  to  share.  Our  churches 
were  washed  with  penitential  tears :  and 
when,  on  days  of  fasting  and  prayer,  a  preach- 
er desired  to  excite  extraordinary  emotions  of 
grief,  he  was  sure  to  succeed,  if  he  cried, 
'  God  will  take  away  his  candlestick  from  you, 
God  will  deprive  you  of  the  churches  in 
which  ye  form  only  vain  designs  of  conver- 
sion.' 

Suppose,  amidst  a  large  concourse  of  peo- 
ple, assembled  to  celebrate  a  solemn  feast,  a 
preacher  of  falsehood  had  ascended  a  pulpit 
of  truth,  and  had  affirmed  these  propositions  : 
'  External  worship  is  not  essential  to  salvation. 
They,  who  diminish  their  revenues,  or  re- 
nounce the  pleasures  of  life,  for  the  sake  of 
liberty  of  conscience,  do  not  rightly  under- 
stand the  spirit  of  Christianity.  The  Lord's 
supper  ought  not  to  be  neglected,  when  it  can 
be  administered  without  peril :  but  we  ought 
not  to  expose  ourselves  to  danger  for  the  sake 
of  a  sacrament,  which  at  most  is  only  a  seal  of 
the  covenant,  but  not  the  covenant  itself.' 
In  what  light  would  such  a  preacher  have 
been  considered  .''  The  whole  congregation 
would  have  unanimously  cried  '  Away  with 
him !  Away  with  him  !'  Numb.  xxv.  Many 
a  Phineas,  many  an  Eleazar,  would  have  been 
instantly  animated  with  an  impetuosity  of 
fervour  and  zeal,  which  it  would  have  been 
necessary  to  restrain. 

O  God  !  what  are  become  of  sentiments  so 
pious  and  so  worthy  of  Christianity  !  This  ar- 
ticle is  a  source  of  exquisite  grief.  In  sight 
of  these  sad  objects  we  cry, '  O  wall  of  the 
daughter  of  Zion !  let  tears  run  down  like  a 
river  day  and  night,'  Lam.  ii.  18.  Here  the 
sorrowful  Rachel  mourneth  for  her  children  I 
she  utters  the  '  voice  of  lamentation  and  bitter 
weeping,  refusing  to  be  comforted  for  her 
children,  because  they  are  not,'  Jer.  xxxi.  15. 
Go,  go  see  those  degenerate  sons  of  the  reform- 
ation !  Go,  try  to  communicate  a  brisker  mo- 
tion to  that  reformed  blood,  which  still  creeps 
slowly  in  their  veins.  Arouse  them  by  urg- 
ing the  necessity  of  that  external  worship  of 
which  they  still  retain  some  grand  ideas. 
Alarm  their  ears  with  the  thundering  voice 
of  the  Son  of  God  :  tell  them,  '  He  that  lov- 
eth  father  or  mother  more  than  me,  is  not 
worthy  of  me.  Whosoever  shall  deny  me  be- 
fore men,  him  will  I  also  deny  before  my  Fa- 
ther which  is  in  heaven,'  Matt.  x.  33.  37  ;  and 
what  will  they  say  ?  They  will  tax  you  with 
being  an  enthusiastic  declaimer.      The  very 


180 


THE  LITTLE  SUCCESS  OF 


[Ser.  XVIIL 


propositions,  which  would  have  been  rejected 
with  horror,  had  they  been  affirmed  in  times 
of  liberty,  would  now  be  maintained  witli  the 
utmost  zeal.  But  how  comes  it  to  pass,  that 
what  was  formerly  unwarrantable  now  ap- 
pears just  and  true  ?  The  pliant  artifice  of 
the  human  mind  has  wrought  the  change. 
The  corruption  of  the  heart  knows  how  to 
fix  the  attention  of  the  mind  on  objects  which 
palliate  a  criminal  habit ;  and  most  men  un- 
derstand the  secret  art  of  seducing  them- 
selves, when  their  passions  render  a  seduc- 
tion needful. 

At  first,  they  required  only  the  liberty  of 
considering  tlie  bearing  of  the  storm  before 
the  thunder  burst  the  clouds,  that  if  they 
should  be  obliged  to  flee,  it  might  be  from 
real  evils,  and  not  from  imaginary  panics. 
At  length  the  tempest  came  crushing  and 
sweeping  away  all  that  opposed  its  progress. 
When  the  body  must  have  been  exposed  for 
the  salvation  of  the  soul,  the  trial,  they  said, 
was  severe,  their  hearts  were  intimidated, 
they  fainted,  and  durst  not  flee.  Moreover, 
till  they  had  amassed  enough  to  support  them 
in  that  exile,  to  which  they  should  be  instant- 
ly condemned,  if  they  owned  Jesus  Christ; 
and  lest  they  should  leave  their  innocent 
children  destitute  of  all  support  they  abjured 
their  religion  for  the  present.  Abjuration  is 
always  shocking  :  but  if  ever  it  seem  to  call 
for  patience  and  pity,  it  is  in  such  circum- 
stances !  when  pretexts  so  plausible  produce 
it,  and  when  solemn  vows  are  made  to  re- 
nounce it.  When  the  performance  of  these 
vows  was  required,  insurmountable  obstacles 
forbade  it,  and  the  same  reasons,  which  had 
sanctified  this  hypocrisy  at  first,  required 
them  to  persist  in  it.  When  vigilant  guards 
were  placed  on  the  frontiers  of  the  kingdom, 
they  waited,  they  said,  only  for  a  fair  oppor- 
tunity to  escape,  and  they  flattered  them- 
selves Vt'ith  fixing  certain  periods,  in  which 
they  might  safely  execute  what  would  be 
hazardous  before  to  attempt.  Sometimes  it 
was  the  gaining  of  a  battle,  and  sometimes 
the  conclusion  of  a  peace.  As  these  periods 
were  not  attended  with  the  advantages  which 
they  had  promised  themselves,  they  looked 
forward,  and  appointed  others.  Others  came. 
No  more  guards  on  the  frontiers,  no  more 
obstacles,  full  liberty  for  all,  who  had  coxirage 
to  follow  Jesus  Christ.  And  whither  .■'  Into 
dens  and  deserts,  exposed  to  every  calamity  ? 
No  :  into  delicious  gardens  ;  into  countries 
where  the  gentleness  of  tlie  governments  is 
alone  sufficient  to  indemnify  us  for  all  we 
leave  in  our  own  country.  But  new  times, 
new  morals.  The  pretext  of  the  difficulty  of 
following  Jesus  Christ  being  taken  away,  the 
necessity  of  i,'  is  invalidated.  Why,  say 
they,  should  we  abandon  a  country,  in  wliich 
people  may  profess  what  they  please  .'  Why 
not  rather  endeavour  to  preserve  the  seeds  of 
the  reformation  in  a  kingdom,  from  which  it 
would  be  entirely  eradicated,  if  all  they,  who 
adhere  to  it,  were  to  become  voluntary  ex- 
iles ?  Why  restrain  grace  to  some  countries, 
religion  to  particular  walls  ?  Why  should  we 
not  content  ourselves  with  worshipping  God 
in  our  closets,  and  in  our  families  ?  The  min- 
isters of  Jesus  Christ  have  united  their  en- 
deavours   to  unravel   these   sophisnxs.     We 


have  heaped  argument  upon  argument,  de- 
monstration upon  demonstration.  We  have 
represented  the  utility  of  public  worship. 
We  have  shown  the  possibility,  and  the  pro- 
bability, of  a  new  period  of  persecution.  vVe 
have  conjured  those,  whom  sad  experience 
has  taught  their  own  weakness,  to  ask  them- 
selves, whether  they  have  obtained  streno-th 
sufficient  to  bear  such  sufferings  as  those 
under  which  they  formerly  sunk.  We  have 
proved  that  the  posterity  of  those  lukewarm 
Christians  will  be  entirely  destitute  of  reli- 
gion. In  short,  we  have  produced  the  highest 
degree  of  evidence  in  favour  of  their  flight. 
All  our  arguments  have  been  useless  ;  we  have 
reasoned,  and  written,  witnout  success ;  we 
have  '  spent  our  strength  in  vain,'  Lev.  xxvi. 
20.  And,  except  here  and  there  an  elect  soul, 
whom  God  in  his  infinite  mercy  has  deliver- 
ed from  all  the  miseries  of  such  a  state,  they 
quietly  eat  and  drink,  build  and  plant,  marry 
and  are  given  in  marriage,  and  die  in  this  fa- 
tal stupidity. 

Such  is  the  flexible  depravity  of  the  human 
mind,  and  such  was  that  of  the  Jews  !  Such 
is  the  ability  of  our  hearts  in  exercising  the 
fatal  art  of  self-deception,  when  sinful  pas- 
sions require  us  to  be  deceived  ! 

Represent  to  yourselves  the  cruel  Jews. 
They  expected  a  Messiah,  who  would  furnish 
them  with  means  of  glutting  their  revenge 
by  treading  the  Gentiles  beneath  their  teet, 
for  them  they  considered  as  creatures  un- 
worthy of  the  least  regard.  Jesus  Christ 
came,  he  preached,  and  said, '  Love  your  en- 
emies, bless  them  that  curse  you,'  Matt.  v.  44. 
Revenge  viewed  the  Messiah  in  a  disadvan- 
tageous light.  Revenge  turned  the  attention 
of  the  Jews  to  this  their  favourite  maxim, 
'  The  Messiah  is  to  humble  the  enemies  of 
the  church,'  whereas  Jesus  Christ  left  them 
in  all  their  gayety  and  pomp. 

Represent  to  yourselves,  those  of  the  Jews 
who  were  insatiably  desirous  of  riches.  They 
expected  a  Messiah,  who  would  lavishhis  trea- 
sures on  them,  and  would  so  fulfil  these  expres- 
sions of  the  prophets,  'Silver  is  mine,  and 
gold  is  mine,'  Hag.  ii.  8.  '  The  kings  of  Tar- 
shish,  and  of  the  isles,  shall  bring  presents,' 
Psal.lxxii.  10.  JesusChrist  came,  he  preach- 
ed, and  said,  '  Lay  not  up  for  yourselves 
treasures  upon  earth,'  Matt.  vi.  19.  Avidity 
of  riclies  considered  the  Messiah  in  a  disad- 
vantageous light.  Avidity  of  riches  confined 
the  attention  of  the  Jews  to  this  favourite 
maxim, '  The  Messiah  is  to  enrich  his  disci- 
ples,'whereas  Jesus  Christ  left  his  followers 
in  indigence  and  want. 

Represent  to  yourselves  the  proud  and  ar- 
rogant Jews.  They  expected  a  Messiah, 
who  would  march  at  their  head,  conquer  the 
Romans,  who  were  become  the  terror  of  the 
world,  and  obtain  victories  similar  to  those 
which  their  ancestors  had  obtained  over  na- 
tions recorded  in  history  for  their  military 
skill-  They  fed  their  ambition  witli  these 
memorable  prophecies  :  '  Ask  of  me,  and  I 
shall  give  thee  the  heathen  for  thine  inherit- 
ance, and  the  uttermost  part  of  the  earth  ibr 
thy  possession.  Thou  shall  break  them  with 
a  rod  of  iron  :  thou  shalt  dash  them  in  pieces 
like  a  potter's  vessel.  He  shall  have  domi- 
nion from  sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  river  unto 


Seb.  XVIIL] 


CHRIST'S  MINISTRY, 


181 


the  ends  ofthe  earth.  They  that  dwell  in  the 
wilderness  shall  bow  before  him,  and  his  ene- 
mies shall  Hck  the  dust,'  Psal.  ii.  8, 9  ;  and  Ixxii. 
8,  9.  Jesus  Christ  came,  he  preached  and 
said,  '  Blessed  are  they  which  are  persecuted 
for  rirrhteousness'  sake ;  for  theirs  is  the 
kincrdom  of  heaven,'  Matt.  v.  10.  He  march- 
ed first  at  the  head  of  this  afflicted  host,  and 
finished  his  mournful  life  on  a  cross.  Arro- 
gance and  pride  considered  Jesus  Christ  in  a 
disadvantageous  li<^ht.  Arrogance  and  pride 
confined  the  attention  of  the  Jews  to  this 
maxim,  '  The  Messiah  is  to  sit  on  a  throne  : 
whereas  Jesus  Christ  was  nailed  to  a  cross. 
When  we  know  the  pliant  depravity  of  the 
human  heart,  when  we  know  its  ability  to 
deceive  itself,  when  its  passions  require  it  to 
be  deceived  ;  can  we  be  astonished  that  Jesus 
Christ  had  so  few  partisans  among"  the  Jews.' 

4.  But  our  fourth  reflection  will  remove 
our  astonishment ;  it  regards  the  presump- 
tuous ideas  which  we  form  of  our  own  virtue 
when  it  hath  not  been  tried.  For  this  pur- 
pose, we  are  going  to  put  you  in  the  place  of 
the  ancient  Jews,  and  to  prove,  that  in  the 
same  circumstances  you  would  have  acted 
the  same  part. 

There  is  a  kind  of  sophistry,  which  is 
adapted  to  all  ages,  and  to  all  countries  ;  I 
mean  that  turn  of  mind  which  judgeth  those 
vices  in  which  we  have  no  share.  The  mal- 
ice of  our  hearts  seldom  goes  so  far  as  to  love 
sin  for  its  own  sake.  When  sin  presents 
itself  to  our  view,  free  from  any  self-interest 
in  committing  it,  and  when  we  have  the  li- 
berty of  a  cool,  calm,  and  dispassionate  sight 
of  it,  it  seldom  fails  to  inspire  us  with  horror. 
And,  as  this  disposition  of  mind  prevails, 
when  we  think  over  the  atrocious  vices  of 
former  ages,  we  generally  abhor  the  sins, 
and  condemn  the  men  who  committed  them. 
They  appear  monsters  to  us,  and  nature 
seems  to  have  produced  but  a  few.  We 
seem  to  ourselves  beings  of  another  kind,  and 
we  can  hardly  suffer  the  question  to  be  put, 
whether,  in  the  same  circumstances,  we 
should  not  have  pursued  the  same  conduct  .■' 

In  this  disposition  we  usually  judge  the 
ancient  Jews.  How  could  they  rebel  against 
those  deliverers,  whom  God,  if  I  may  speak 
so,  armed  with  his  omnipotence  to  free  them 
from  the  bondage  of  Egypt .'  How  could  they 
possibly  practice  gross  idolatry  on  the  banks 
of  the  Red  Sea,  which  had  just  before  been 
miraculously  divided  for  their  passage,  and 
which  had  just  before  overwhelmed  their  ene- 
mies ?  While  heaven  was  every  instant  lavish- 
ing miracles  in  their  favour,  how  could  they 
possibly  place  their  abominable  idols  on  the 
throne  of  the  living  God  ?  How  could  their 
descendants  resist  the  ministry  of  such  men 
as  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  and  all  the  other  pro- 
phets, whose  missions  appeared  so  evidently 
divine  ? 

In  the  same  disposition  we  judge  those 
Jews,  who  heard  the  sermons,  and  who  saw 
the  miracles,  of  Jesus  Christ.  Their  unbelief 
appears  a  greater  prodigy  than  all  the  other 
prodigies  which  we  are  told  they  resisted.  It 
seems  a  phenomenon  out  of  the  ordinary 
course  of  nature  ;  and  we  persuade  ourselves, 
that,  had  we  been  in  similar  circumstances, 

2  A 


we  should  have  acted  in  a  very  different  man 
ner. 

As  I  said  before,  my  brethren,  this  sophis- 
try is  not  new.  When  we  reason  thus  in  re- 
gard to  those  Jews  who  lived  in  the  ti  ne  of 
Jesus  Christ,  we  only  repeat  what  they  them- 
selves said  in  regard  to  them  who  lived  in 
the  times  of  the  ancient  prophets.  J3sus 
Clirist  reproaches  them  with  it  in  these  em- 
phatical  words  :  '  Wo  unto  you,  scribes  and 
Pharisees,  hypocrites  !  because  ye  build  the 
tombs  of  the  prophets,  and  garnish  the  se- 
pulchres of  the  righteous,  and  say.  If  we  had 
been  in  the  days  of  our  fathers,  we  would  not 
have  been  partakers  with  them  in  the  blood 
of  the  prophets.  Fill  ye  up  then  tlie  measure 
of  your  fatiiers,'  Matt,  xxiii.  20,  30.  32.  Let 
us  not  lightly  pnss  over  these  words.  I  have 
rend  them  as  tliey  are  in  the  Gospel  of  St. 
Matthew.  St.  Luke  has  t]ie;i\  a  little  differ- 
ently, '  Truly  ye  bear  witness  thnt  ye  allow 
the  deeds  of  your  fathers  ;  for  they  indeed 
killed  them,  and  ye  build  their  sepulchres,' 
chap.  xi.  48.  Both  express  the  same  thing. 
The  Jews,  who  were  contemporary  with 
Christ,  having  no  interest  in  the  wickedness 
of  their  ancestors,  considered  it  in  the  dis- 
position of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  and 
were  ashamed  of  it,  and  condemned  it.  They 
considered  themselves  in  contrast  with  them, 
and  gave  themselves  the  preference.  '  If  we 
had  been  in  the  days  of  our  fathers,  we  would 
not  have  been  partakers  with  them  in  the 
blood  of  the  prophets.'  Jesus  Christ  unde- 
ceives them,  and  rends  the  veil  with  which 
they  covered  the  turpitude  of  their  own 
hearts  from  themselves.  He  declares,  if 
they  had  lived  in  the  days  of  their  fathers, 
they  would  have  imitated  their  conduct ;  be- 
cause, being  in  similar  circumstances,  they 
actually  pursued  similar  methods.  And  he 
assures  them,  that,  if  they  were  judged  by 
their  fruits,  tlieir  zeal  in  repairing  the  sepul- 
chres, and  in  embellishing  the  monuments  of 
the  prophets,  proceeded  less  from  a  design  to 
honour  the  memories  of  the  hoi}'  men,  than 
from  a  disposition  to  imbrue  their  own  sacri- 
legious hands  in  their  blood,  as  their  ances- 
tors had  formerly  done. 

The  duty  of  my  office,  and  the  subject 
which  Providence  calls  me  to-day  to  explain, 
oblige  me  to  make  an  odious,  but  perliaps  a 
too  just,  application  of  these  words.  When 
you  hear  ofthe  unbelief  of  the  Jews,  you  say, 
'  If  we  had  lived  in  the  times  of  them,  who 
heard  the  sermons  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  who 
saw  his  miracles,  we  would  not  have  been 
partakers  with  them  in  the  parricide  of  the 
prophets.'  Alas  !  n:y  brethren,  how  little  do 
we  know  of  ourselves  !  How  easy  is  it  to 
form  projects  of  virtue  and  holiness,  wlien 
nothing  but  the  forming  of  them  is  in  ques- 
tion, and  when  we  are  not  called  to  practise 
and  execute  them !  But  what  I  you,  my 
brethren  !  would  you  have  believed  in  Jesus 
Christ?  You  would  have  believed  in  Jesus 
Christ ;  you  would  have  followed  Jesus 
Christ,  would  you  ? 

Well,  then,  realize  the  time  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Suppose  the  Hague  instead  of  Jerusalem. 
Suppose  Jesus  Christ  in  the  place  of  one  of 
those  insignificant  men  who  preach  the  gos- 


182 


THE  LITTLE  SUCCESS  OF 


[Ser.  xvm. 


pel  to  you :  iupposc  this  congregation  instead 
of  the  Jews,  to  whom  Jesus  Christ  preached, 
and  in  whose  presence  he  wrought  his  mi- 
racles. You  would  have  believed  in  Jesus 
Christ,  would  you  ?  You  would  have  followed 
Jesus  Christ,  would  you  ? 

What  I  thou  idle  soul  I  thou,  who  art  so  in- 
dolent in  every  thing  connected  with  religion, 
that  thou  sayest,  we  require  too  much,  when 
we  endeavour  to  persuade  thee  to  examine 
the  reasons  which  retain  thee  in  the  profes- 
Bion  of  Christianity,  when  we  exhort  thee  to 
consult  thy  pastors,  and  to  read  religious 
books!  Wliat  !  wouldst  thou  have  renoun- 
ced thine  indifference  and  sloth,  if  thou  hadst 
lived  in  the  days  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  Would  thy 
supine  soul  have  aroused  itself  to  examine 
the  evidences  of  the  divinity  of  his  mission, 
to  develope  the  sophisms  with  which  his  ene- 
mies opposed  him,  to  assort  the  prophecies 
with  the  actions  of  his  life,  in  order  to  deter- 
mine their  accomplishment  in  his  person  ? 

What !  thou  vain  soul !  who  always  takest 
the  upper  hand  in  society,  who  art  incessant- 
ly prating  about  thy  birth,  thine  ancestors, 
thy  rank !  Thou  who  studiest  to  make  thy 
dress,  the  tone  of  tliy  voice,  thine  air,  thy 
gait,  thine  equipage,  thy  skeleton,  thy  car- 
cass, thine  all,  proclaim  thee  a  superior  per- 
sonage !  wouldst  thou  have  joined  thyself  to 
the  populace,  who  followed  Jesus  Christ ;  to 
the  poor  fishermen,  and  to  the  contemptible 
publicans,  who  composed  the  apostolic  school ; 
wouldst  thou j  liaveTollowed  this  Jesus? 

What !  thou  miser  !  who  wallowest  in  sil- 
ver and  gold  ;  thou  who  dost  idolize  thy  trea- 
sures, and  makest  thy  heart  not  a  temple  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  but  a  temple  of  Mammon ; 
thou,  who  art  able  to  resist  the  exhortations 
and  entreaties,  the  prayers  and  the  tears,  of 
the  servants  of  God  ;  thou  who  art  insensible 
to  every  form  of  address  which  thy  pastors 
take  to  move  thee  not  to  suffer  to  die  for 
want  of  sustenance, — whom  ?  A  poor  misera- 
ble old  man,  who,  sinking  under  the  pains 
and  infirmities  of  old  age,  is  surrounded  with 
indigence,  and  even  wants  bread.  Thou  I 
who  art  so  ungenerous,  so  unnatural,  and  so 
barbarous,  that  thou  refusest  the  least  relief 
to  an  object  of  misery  so  affecting  ;  wouldst 
thou  have  believed  in  Jesus  Christ .'  Wouldst 
thou  have  followed  Jesus  Christ.'  Thou! 
wouldst  thou  have  obeyed  this  command, 
'  Go,  sell  that  thou  hast,  and  give  to  the 
poor,  and  come  and  follow  me .-"  Matt.  xix. 
21. 

Ah  !  '  Wo  unto  you  scribes  and  pharisees, 
hypocrites  !  Ye  build  the  tombs  of  the  pro- 
phets, and  garnish  the  sepulchres  of  the 
righteous,  and  say.  If  we  had  been  in  the 
days  of  our  fathers,  we  would  not  have  been 
partakers  with  them  in  the  blood  of  the  pro- 
phets.' But  with  too  much  propriety  may  I 
apply  to  some  of  you  the  following  words, 
'  Behold,  I  send  unto  you  prophets,  and  wise 
men,  and  scribes;  and  some  of  them  ye  shall 
kill  and  crucify  ;  and  some  of  them  shall  ye 
scourge  in  your  synagogues,  and  persecute 
them  from  city  to  city  ;  that  upon  you  may 
come  all  the  righteous  blood  shed  upon  the 
earth,  from  the  blood  of  righteous  Abel,  unto 
the  blood  of  Zacharias,  the  son  of  Barachias,' 
Matt,  xxiii.  29.  34,  35.      Yea,  behold    God 


sends  ministers  unto  you,  who  preach  the 
same  doctrine  now  that  Jesus  Christ  did  in 
his  day.  Resist  them,  as  the  Jews  resist- 
ed Jesus  Christ;  withstand  their  preaching,  ., 
as  the  Jews  withstood  the  preaching  ofj 
Jesus  Christ ;  ridicule  them,  as  the  Jews " 
ridiculed  Jesus  Christ ,  call  them  '  gluttons' 
and  '  wine-bibbers,'  Matt.  xi.  19,  as  the  Jews 
called  Jesus  Christ ;  contemn  the  judgments 
which  they  denounce,  as  the  Jews  contemned 
the  judgments  which  Jesus  Christ  foretold  ; 
till  all  the  calamitous  judgments  which  are 
due  to  the  resistance  that  this  nation  has 
made  against  the  gospel  ministry,  from  its 
beginning  to  this  day,  fall  upon  you.  But 
cease  to  consider  the  infidelity  and  obstinacy 
of  the  Jews  as  an  extraordinary  phenomenon. 
Do  not  infer  from  their  not  believing  the  mi- 
racles of  Christ,  that  Jesus  Christ  wrought 
no  miracles.  Do  not  say.  Religion  lias 
but  fev!  disciples,  therefore,  the  grounds 
of  religion  are  not  very  evident.  For  you 
are,  the  greatest  part  of  you,  a  refutation  of 
your  own  sophism.  You  are  witnesses,  that 
■there  is  a  kind  of  infidelity  and  obstinacy, 
which  resists  the  most  powerful  motives,  the 
most  plain  demonstrations.  And  these  pub- 
lic assemblies,  this  auditory,  this  concourse 
of  people,  all  these  demonstrate,  that  wisdom 
has  but  few  disciples.  This  is  what  we  un- 
dertook to  prove. 

5.  But  all  this  is  only  supposition.  What 
will  you  say,  if,  by  discussing  the  fifth  article, 
we  apply  the  subject .'  and  if,  instead  of  say- 
ing. Had  you  lived  in  the  days  of  the  ancient 
Jews,  you  would  have  rejected  the  ministry 
of  Jesus  Christ  as  they  rejected  it,  we  should 
tell  you,  you  actually  do  reject  it  as  they  did? 
This  proposition  has  nothing  hyperbolical 
in  it  in  regard  to  a  great  number  of  you. 
Nothing  more  is  necessary  to  prove  it,  than 
a  list  of  the  most  essential  maxims  of  the 
morality  of  the  gospel,  and  a  comparison  of 
them  with  the  opposite  notions  which  such 
Christians  form. 

For  example,  it  is  a  maxim  of  the  gospel, 
that  virtue  does  not  consist  in  a  simple  nega- 
tion, hut  in  something  real  and  positive. 
Likewise  in  regard  to  the  employment  of  time. 
What  duty  is  more  expressly  commanded  in 
the  gospel  ?  What  duty  more  closely  connect- 
ed with  the  great  end  for  which  God  has 
placed  us  in  this  world?  Is  not  the  small 
number  of  years,  are  not  the  few  days,  which 
we  pass  upon  earth,  given  us  to  prepare  for 
eternity  ?  Does  not  our  eternal  destiny  de- 
pend on  the  manner  in  which  we  spend  these 
few  days  and  years  on  earth  ?  Yet,  to  see 
Christians  miserably  consume  upon  nothings 
the  most  considerable  parts  of  their  lives, 
would  tempt  one  to  think,  that  they  had  the 
absolute  disposal  of  an  inexliaustible  fund  of 
duration. 

The  delaying  of  coiiversion  would  afford 
another  subject  proper  to  show  the  miserable 
art  of  the  greatest  part  of  mankind  of  shut- 
ting their  eyes  against  the  clearest  truths, 
and  of  hardening  themselves  against  the  most 
powerful  motives.  Have  not  all  casuists, 
even  they  who  are  the  most  opposite  to  each 
other  on  all  other  articles,  agreed  in  this  ?  ,' 
Have  they  not  unanimously  endeavoured  to 
free   us   from  this  miserable  prepossession,    i 


!S£H.  XVIII.] 


CHRIST'S  MINISTRY. 


183 


that  God  will  judge  us,  not  acccording  to  the 
manner  in  which  we  live,  but  according  to 
the  manner  in  xchich  toe  die  ?  Have  they 
not  agreed  in  representing  to  us  the  inability 
of  dying  people  to  meditate  with  any  degree 
of  application  ;  and,  in  a  manner,  the  impos- 
sibility of  being  entirely  renewed  on  a  dying 
bed  :  and  yet,  do  not  the  greater  number  of 
Christians,  even  of  those  whose  piety  seems 
the  most  genuine,  defer  a  great  part  of  the 
work  of  their  salvation  to  a  dying  hour  ?  If 
you  think  I  colour  the  corruption  of  the  age 
too  strongly,  answer  me  one  question  :  Whence 
proceeds  our  usual  fear  of  sudden  death  ? 
Since  the  last  stages  of  life  are  in  general  the 
most  fatiguing  ;  since  the  reliefs,  that  are  ap- 
plied then  are  so  disgustful ;  since  paKting 
adieus  are  so  exquisitely  painful ;  since  slow 
agonies  of  death  are  so  intolerable ;  why  do 
we  not  consider  sudden  death  as  the  most 
desirable  of  all  advantages  ?  Why  is  it  not 
the  constant  object  of  our  wishes  ?  Why 
does  a  sudden  death  terrify  a  whole  city?  Is 
it  not  because  our  consciences  tell  us,  that 
there  remains  a  great  deal  to  be  done  on  our 
death-beds ;  and  that  we  have  deferred  that 
work  to  the  last  period  of  life,  which  we 
ought  to  have  performed  in  the  days  of  vi- 
gour and  health  ?  Let  us  enter  into  these 
discussions,  and  we  shall  find  that  it  does  not 
belong  to  us,  of  all  people,  to  exclaim  against 
the  obstinacy  and  infidelity  of  the  Jews. 

I  have  run  this  disagreeable  parallel,  I 
own,  with  great  reluctance.  However,  the 
inference  from  the  whole,  I  think,  is  very 
plain.  The  multitude  ought  to  be  no  rule 
to  us.  We  ought  rather  to  imitate  the  exam- 
ple of  one  good  Christian,  than  that  of  a 
multitude  of  idiots,  who  furiously  rush  into 
eternal  misery.  They,  who  rebel  against  the 
doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ,  are  idiots :  they 
who  submit  to  them,  are  wise  men.  If  the 
first  class  exceed  the  last,  beyond  all  compari- 
son in  number,  they  ought  to  have  no  influ- 
ence over  our  lives.  If  the  smallest  be  the 
wisest  class,  we  are  bound  to  imitate  them. 
Thus  Jesus  Christ  reasons :  '  Whereunto 
shall  I  liken  the  men  of  this  generation  .■"  and 
to  what  are  they  like  .'  They  are  like  unto 
children  sitting  in  the  market  place,  and  call- 
ing one  to  another,  and  saying,  we  have 
Eiped  unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  danced  ;  we 
ave  mourned  to  you,  and  ye  have  not  wept. 
For  John  the  Baptist  came  neither  eating 
bread,  nor  drinking  wine ;  and  ye  say,  He 
hath  a  devil.  The  Son  of  man  is  come  eat- 
ing and  drinking ;  and  ye  say.  Behold  a  glut- 
tonous man  and  a  wine-bibber,  a  friend  of 
publicans  and  sinners.  But  wisdom  is  justifi- 
ed of  all  her  children,'  Luke  vii.  31,  &c. 

There  were  but  very  few  of  the  Jews,  who 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  gospel ;  as,  I 
own,  there  are  but  few  of  those  called  Chris- 
tians, who  enter  into  it ;  but  they  are  the 
wise  and  rational  part  of  mankind.  Jesus 
Christ  himself  has  determined  it.  '  Wisdom 
is  justified  of  all  her  children.'  This  is  not 
the  opinion  of  a  declaimer  ;  this  is  tlie  axiom 
of  a  philosopher,  that  carries  its  proof  and 
demonstration  with  it. 

Who  were  those  Jews,  who  resisted  the 
powerful  exhortations  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
the   clear   evidence  of  his  miracles .''     They 


were  idiots,  who  imagined  God  would  sufTer 
all  the  laws  of  nature  to  be  interrupted  to 
favour  falsehood,  and  to  authorize  an  impos- 
tor :  idiots,  who  thought  Satan  would  oppose 
himself,  and  would  himself  lend  his  power 
to  a  man  whose  doctrine  had  no  other  end 
than  the  subversion  of  his  empire  ;  idiots, 
who  annihilated  prophecy  under  a  pretence 
of  giving  it  a  sublime  meaning  :  idiots,  who 
knew  not  the  true  interest  of  mankind  ;  who 
could  not  perceive,  that  to  put  riches  and 
grandeurs  into  the  possession  of  men,  whose 
dispositions,  like  theirs,  were  unrenewed, 
was  to  put  daggers  and  death  into  madmen's 
hands ;  idiots,  who  for  a  great  number  of 
years  had  lightnings  flashing  in  their  eyes, 
and  thunders  roaring  in  their  ears ;  but  who 
coolly  endeavoured  to  shut  their  eyes,  and 
to  stop  their  ears,  till  the  tempest  struck 
them  dead,  and  reduced  them  to  ashes. 

What  is  the  character  of  a  modern  infidel, 
who  prefers  a  system  of  irreligion  before  the 
system  of  Christianity  .''  He  is  an  idiot ;  a 
man  who  voluntarily  shuts  his  eyes  against 
evidence  and  truth  :  a  man  who,  under  pre- 
tence that  all  cannot  be  explained  to  him, 
determines  to  deny  what  can  :  a  man  who 
cannot  digest  the  difficulties  of  religion,  but 
can  digest  those  of  skepticism  :  a  man  who 
cannot  conceive  how  the  world  should  owe  its 
existence  to  a  Supreme  Being,  but  can  easi- 
ly conceive  how  it  was  formed  by  chance. 
On  the  contrary,  what  is  the  character  of  a 
believer .'  He  is  a  wise  man,  a  child  of  wiS' 
dom;  a  man  who  acknowledges  the  imper- 
fections of  his  nature  :  a  man  who,  knowing 
by  experience  the  inferiority  and  uncertainty 
of  his  own  conjectures,  applies  to  revelation: 
a  man  who,  distrusting  his  own  reason,  yields 
it  up  to  the  direction  of  an  infallible  Being, 
and  is  thus  enabled,  in  some  sense,  to  see 
with  the  eyes  of  God  himself. 

What  is  the  character  of  a  man  who  re- 
fuses to  obey  this  saying  of  Jesus  Christ, 
'  No  man  can  serve  two  masters  .•"  Matt.  vi. 
24.  He  is  an  idiot ;  he  is  a  man  who,  by  en- 
deavouring to  unite  the  joys  of  heaven  with 
the  pleasures  of  the  world,  deprives  himself 
of  the  happiness  of  both  :  he  is  a  man,  who 
is  always  agitated  between  two  opposite 
parties,  that  makes  his  soul  a  seat  of  war, 
where  virtue  and  vice  are  in  continual  fio-ht. 
On  the  contr.nry,  what  is  the  character  of  a 
man  wiio  obeys  this  saying  of  Jesus  Christ  ? 
He  is  a  man  who  after  he  has  applied  all  the 
attention  of  which  he  is  capable,  to  distin- 
guish the  good  from  the  bad,  renounces  the 
last,  and  embraces  the  first:  a  man  who, 
having  felt  the  force  of  virtuous  motives, 
does  not  suffer  himself  to  be  imposed  on  by 
sensual  sophisms  :  a  man,  who  judges  of  truth 
and  error  by  those  infallible  marks  which 
characterize  both  ;  and  not  by  a  circulation 
of  the  blood,  a  flow,  or  dejection,  of  animal 
spirits,  and  by  other  similar  motives,  which, 
if  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so,  make  the 
whole  course  of  the  logic,  and  the  whole 
stock  of  the  erudition,  of  the  children  of  this 
world. 

What  is  the  character  of  the  man  who  re- 
fuses to  obey  this  command  of  Jesus  Christ, 
'  Lay  not  up  treasures  upon  earth ;  for 
where  your  treasure  is,  there  will  your  heart 


184 


CHRISTIANITY  NOT  SEDITIOUS. 


[Ser.  XIX. 


be  also.''     Matt.  vi.  19.  21.      He  is  a  man 

•wlio  fi.xes  his  hopes  on  a  sinking  world  ;  a 
man  who  forgets  that  death  will  spoil  him  of 
all  his  treasures  ;  a  man  who  is  blind  to  the 
shortness  of  his  life  ;  a  man  who  is  insensi- 
ble to  the  burden  of  old  age,  even  while  it 
weighs  him  down  ;  who  never  saw  the  wrin- 
kles that  disfigure  his  countenance  ;  a  man 
who  is  deaf  to  the  voice  of  universal  nature, 
to  the  living,  the  dying,  and  the  dead,  who 
in  concert  cry,  Remember  thou  art  mortal! 
On  the  contrary,  what  is  the  character  of 
him  who  obeys  this  command  of  Jesus 
Christ  ?  It  is  wisdom.  The  man  is  one  who 
elevates  his  hopes  above  the  ruins  of  a  sink- 
ing world  ;  a  man  who  clings  to  the  rock  of 
ages ;  who  builds  his  house  on  that  rock  ; 
who  sends  all  his  riclies  before  him  into  eter- 
nity; who  makes  God,  the  great  God,  the 
depositary  of  his  happiness ;  a  man,  who 
is  the  same  in  every  turn  of  times,  because 
no  variation  can  deprive  him  of  the  happiness 
which  he  has  chosen. 

And  what  are  the  men  who  resist  our  min- 
istry, who  hear  our  sermons,  as  if  they  were 
simple  amusements  ;  who,  when  they  depart 
from  their  places  of  worship,  return  to  the 
dissipations  and  vices  from  which  they  came  ; 
who,  after  they  have  fasted,  and  prayed,  and 
received  the  communion,  are  always  as 
worldly,  always  as  proud,  always  as  revenge- 
ful, always  as  ready  to  calumniate,  as  be- 
fore ?  Tliey  are  really  idiots,  who  know  not 
the  days  of  their  visitation;  who  'despise 
the  riches  of  the  forbearance  of  God,  not 
knowing  that  his  goodness  leadeth  to  repent- 
ance,' Rom.  ii.  4;  they  are  idiots,  who  feli- 
citate themselves  to-day  with  worldly  pur- 
suits, which  to-morrow,  will  tear  their  souls 
asunder  on  a  death-bed,  and  the  sorrowful  re- 
membrance of  which  will  torment  them 
through  the  boundless  ages  of  eternity.  And 
those  auditors,  who  are  attentive  to  our  doc- 
trines, and  obedient  to  ourpiecepts;  those 
auditors,  who  thankfully  receive  the  wise, 
and  patiently  bear  with   the   weak,  in  our 


ministry:  what  are  they.'  They  are  wise 
men,  who  refer  our  ministry  to  its  true  mean- 
ing, who  nourish  their  souls  with  the  truths, 
and  daily  advance  in  practising  the  virtues 
of  their  calling.  i 

How  much  does  a  contrast  of  these  char-  ■ 
acters  display  the  glory  of  Christianity  .'  Is  1 
this  religion  less  the  work  of  wisdom,  because  ' 
idiots  reject  it .'  Doth  not  the  honour  of  a 
small  number  of  wise  disciples  indemnify  us 
for  all  the  attacks  that  a  crowd  of  extravagant 
people  make  on  it .'  And  were  you  to  choose 
a  pattern  for  yourselves  to-day,  my  brethren, 
which  of  the  two  examples  would  make  the 
deepest  impressions  on  you  ?  Would  you 
choose  to  imitate  a  small  number  of  wise 
men,  or  a  multitude  of  fools  .'  To  be  re- 
proached for  preciseness  and  singularity  is  a 
very  powerful  temptation,  and  piety  will  of- 
ten expose  us  to  it.  What !  every  body  else 
goes  into  company ;  and  would  you  distin- 
guish yourself  by  living  always  shut  up  at 
home  .'  How  !  every  body  allows  one  part  of 
the  day  to  gaming  and  pastime  ;  and  would 
you  render  yourself  remarkable  by  devoting 
every  moment  of  the  day  to  religion  .'  What  1 
nobody  in  the  vi^orld  requires  above  a  day  or 
two  to  prepare  for  the  sacrament ;  and  would 
you  distinguish  yourself  by  employing  whole 
weeks  in  preparing  for  that  ceremony  .'  Yes, 
I  would  live  a  singular  kind  of  life  !  Yes, 
I  would  distinguish  myself!  Yes,  though 
all  the  Piiarisees,  though  all  the  doctors  of 
the  law,  though  all  the  whole  synagogue, 
should  unite  in  rejecting  Jesus  Christ ;  I 
would  devote  myself  to  him  !  World!  thou  ■ 
shalt  not  be  my  judge.  World !  it  is  not  '|| 
thou,  who  shalt  decide  what  is  shameful,  and 
what  is  glorious.  Provided  I  have  the 
children  of  wisdom  for  my  companions,  an- 
gels for  my  witnesses,  my  Jesus  for  my  guide, 
my  God  for  my  rewarder,  and  heaven  for 
my  recompense,  all  the  rest  signify  but  little 
to  me  !  May  God  inspire  us  with  these  sen- 
timents !  Amen. 


SElllMON  XIX. 


CHRISTIANITY    NOT    SEDITIOUS. 


Luke  xxiii.   5. 
He  stirreth  up  the  people. 


JVEVER  was  a  charge  more  unjustly 
brought,  never  was  a  charge  more  fully  and 
nobly  retorted,  than  that  of  Ahab  against 
Elijah.  Elijah  was  raised  up  to  resist  the 
torrent  of  corruption  and  idolatry  which  over- 
flowed the  kingdom  of  Israel.  God,  who  had 
appointed  him  to  an  olfice  so  painful  and  im- 
portant, had  richly  imparted  to  him  the  gifts 
necessary  to  discharge  it :  so  that  when  the 
Scriptures  would  give  us  a  just  notion  of  the 
herald  of  the  Messiah,  it  says, '  He  shall  go  in 
the  spirit  and  power  of  Klias,'  Luke  i.  17. 


Sublimity  in  his  ideas,  energy  in  his  expres- 
sions, grandeur  in  his  sentiments,  glory  in 
his  miracles,  all  contributed  to  elevate  this 
prophet  to  the  highest  rank  among  them  who 
have  managed  the  sword  of  the  spirit  with 
reputation  and  success.  This  extraordinary 
man  appears  before  Ahab,  who  insults  him 
with  this  insolent  language,  '  Art  thou  ho 
that  troubleth  Israel  .''  1  Kings  xviii.  17. 
Was  ever  a  charge  more  unjustly  brought .'  > 
Elijah  is  not  terrified  with  this  language. 
Neither  the  majesty  nor  the  madness  of  Ahab,     i 


Ser.  XIX.] 


CHRISTIANITY  NOT  SEDITIOUS. 


185 


neither  the  rage  of  Jezebel  nor  the  remem- 
brance of  so  many  prophets  of  the  true  God 
sacrificed  to  false  gods,  nothing  terrifies  him, 
nothing  aftects  him.  '  I  have  not  troubled 
Israel,'  replies  he  ;  '  but  thou,  and  thy  father's 
house,  in  that  ye  have  forsaken  the  command- 
ments of  tlie  Lord,  and  thou  hast  followed 
Baalim,'  ver.  13.  Was  ever  charge  retorted 
v^rith  more  magnanimity  and  courage  ? 

My  brethren,  I  invite  you  to  day  to  con- 
template men  more  unjust  than  Ahab,  and  I 
invite  you  to  contemplate  one  more  magnani- 
mous than  Elijali.  Jesus  Christ  undertook  a 
work,  that  all  the  prophets, — what  am  I  say- 
ing .''  he  undertook  a  work  which  all  the  an- 
gels of  heaven  united  would  have  undertaken 
in  vain.  He  came  to  reconcile  heaven  and 
earth.  God,  wlio  sent  him  into  the  world  in 
this  grand  business,  communicated  '  the 
Spirit  without  measure  to  him,'  John  iii.  34. 
Jesus  Christ  dedicated  iiimself  entirely  to  the 
office.  He  made  the  will  of  the  Father  who 
had  charged  him  with  the  salvation  of  man- 
kind, his 'meat  and  drink,'  chap.  iv.  34.  By 
meditation,  by  retirement,  by  a  holiness 
formed  on  the  plan  of  the  holiness  of  God,  of 
whose  '  glory'  he  is  the  '  brightness,'  of  whose 
'person'  he  is  '  the  express  image,'  Heb.  i.  3, 
he  prepared  himself  for  that  grand  sacrifice, 
which  was  designed  to  extinguish  the  flames 
of  divine  justice,  burning  to  avenge  the  wick- 
edness of  mankind.  After  a  life  so  truly 
amiable,  he  was  dragged  before  judges,  and 
accused  before  human  tribunals  of  being  a 
firebrand  of  sedition,  who  came  to  set  society 
in  a  flame.  Jesus  Christ  was  not  moved 
with  this  accusation.  Neither  the  inveteracy 
of  his  accusers,  nor  the  partiality  of  his  judge, 
neither  the  prospect  of  death,  nor  the  idea 
of  the  cross,  on  which  he  knew  lie  was 
to  expire,  nothing  could  make  him  act  un- 
worthy of  his  character.  Always  ready  to 
communicate  to  inquirers  the  treasures  of 
wisdom  and  knowledge,  of  which  he  was  the 
depositary,  and  to  reveal  himself  to  them,  as 
'  the  true  light  which  lighteth  every  man  that 
Cometh  into  the  world,'  John  i.  1).  On  this 
occasion,  he  justly  discovered  his  superiority 
over  his  accusers,  and  over  his  judges,  by  re- 
fusing to  gratify  the  vain  desire  of  Herod, 
who  wishea  to  see  him  work  a  miracle,  and 
by  leaving,  without  any  other  apology,  his 
doctrine  to  apologize  for  itself. 

These  are  the  grand  objects  which  are 
proposed  to  your  meditation  in  the  text,  and 
in  the  seven  following  verses  that  are  con- 
nected with  it.  The  whole  period  is  perhaps 
the  most  barren  part  of  the  history  of  the 
passion :  but  the  most  barren  parts  of  this 
miraculous  history  are  so  fruitful  in  instruc- 
tion, tliat  I  must  needs  omit  many  articles, 
and  confine  myself  to  the  examination  of  the 
first  words,  which  are  my  text,  '  he  stirreth 
up  the  people.'  It  will  be  necessary,  howev- 
er, briefly  to  explain  the  following  verses, 
and,  after  a  short  explication  of  them,  we  re- 
turn to  the  text,  the  principal  matter  of  this 
discourse.  We  will  examine  tlie  charge  of 
troubling  society,  which  has  always  been 
laid  against  Jesus  Clirist  and  his  gospel. 

O,  you  !  wlio  so  often  blame  religious  dis- 
courses for  troubling  tliat  false  peace,  which 
you  taste  in  the   arms  of  security,  blush  to- 


day to  see  what  unworthy  models  you  imitate ! 
And  we,  ministers  of  the  living,  God,  so  often 
intimidated  at  tliis  odious  charge, let  uslearn 
to  day  courageously  to  follow  the  steps  of  that 
Jesus  who  bore  so  great  a  '  contradiction  of 
sinners  against  himself!'  Heb.  xii.  3.  May 
God  assist  us  in  this  work  !  Amen. 

Jesus  Christ  had  been  interrogated  by  Pi- 
late, and  had  answered  two  calumnies  that 
had  been  objected  against  him.  The  conduct 
of  Jesus  Christ  had  always  been  remarkable 
for  submission  to  magistracy,  and  for  con- 
tempt of  human  grandeurs.  However,  he 
had  been  accused  before  Pilate  of  having 
forbidden  to  pay  tribute  to  Cesar,  and  of 
having  affected  royalty.  Pilate  had  exami- 
ned him  on  these  two  articles,  and,  on  both, 
Jesus  Christ  had  justified  his  innocence,  con- 
founded his  accusers,  and  satisfied  his  judge. 
An  upright  judge  would  have  acquitted 
this  illustrious  prisoner  after  he  had  acknow- 
ledged his  innocence.  Pilate  took  another 
method.  Whether  it  were  cowardice,  or 
folly,  or  policy,  or  all  these  dispositions  to- 
gether, he  seized  the  first  opportunity  that 
offered,  to  remove  a  cause  into  another  court, 
which  he  thought  he  could  not  determine 
without  danger  to  himself  My  brethren,  I 
have  known  many  magistrates  of  consum- 
mate knowledge  ;  I  have  seen  many  of  incor- 
ruptible principles,  whose  equity  was  incapa- 
ble of  diversion  by  those  bribes  which  the  Scrip- 
ture says  'blind  the  eyes  of  the  wise,'  Exod. 
xxiii.  8.  But  how  rare  are  they  who  have  reso- 
lution enough,  not  only  to  judge  with  rectitude, 
but  also  to  support  with  an  undaunted  hero- 
ism, those  suffrages  which  are  the  dictates  of 
equity  and  truth  !  Pilate  instead  of  discharg- 
ing Jesus  Ciirist  from  his  persecutors  and 
executioners,  in  some  sort  assisted  their  cru- 
elty. Neither  able  sufficiently  to  stifle  the 
dictates  of  his  own  conscience  to  condemn  him, 
nor  obedient  enough  to  them  to  acquit  him, 
he  endeavoured  to  find  a  judge,  either  more 
courageous,  who  might  deliver  him,  or  less 
scrupulous,  who  might  condemn  liim  to 
death. 

The  countrymen  of  Jesus  Christ  furnished 
Pilate  with  a  pretence.  '  They  were  the 
more  fierce,'  says  our  evangelist,  '  saying, 
He  stirreth  up  the  people  from  Galilee  to  this 
place.'  Who  were  they  who  brought  this 
accusation  against  Jesus  Christ  ?  Were  they 
only  the  Roman  soldiery  and  the  Jewish  pop- 
ulace .''  No  :  they  were  divines  and  ecclesias- 
tics !  ....  let  us  turn  from  these  horrors. 
'  When  Pilate  heard  of  Galilee,'  adds  St. 
Luke,  '  he  asked  whetiier  the  man  were  a 
Galilean  ?'  Christ  was  born  in  Bethlehem,  a 
town  in  Judea,  according  to  this  prophecy  of 
Micah,  '  And  thou,  Bethlehem  in  the  land  of 
Judah,  art  not  the  least  among  the  princes  of 
Judah  ;  for  out  of  thee  shall  come  a  governor, 
that  shall  rule  my  people  Israel,'  Matt.  ii.  6; 
but  his  mother  was  of  Nazareth,  in  Galilee, 
from  whence  she  came  to  Jerusalem  with 
Joseph,  on  account  of  a  command  of  Augus- 
tus, which  it  is  needless  to  enlarge  on  here. 
In  Galilee,  therefore,  and  particularly  at 
Nazareth,  Jesus  Christ  passed  those  thirty 
years  of  his  life,  of  which  the  evangelists  gave 
us  no  account.  We  may  remark,  by  the 
way,  that  these  circumstances  brought  about 


186 


CHRISTIANITY  NOT  SEDITIOUS. 


[Sek.  XIX. 


the  accomplishment  of  this  prophecy,  '  He 
shall  be  called  a  Nazarene,'  ver.  23.  This 
prophecy,  cited  in  the  New  Testament,  is  not 
to  be  found  literally  in  the  old  :  but  the  pro- 
phets very  often  foretold  the  contempt  that 
the  Jews  would  pour  on  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
his  dwelling  in  Galilee,  particularly  at  Naza- 
reth, was  an  occasion,  as  of  their  contempt, 
60  of  the  accomplishment  of  prophecy.  The 
Jews  considered  Galilee  as  a  country  hateful 
to  God  ;  and  although  Jonah  was  born  there, 
yet  they  had  a  saying,  that  '  no  Galilean  had 
ever  received  the  Spirit  of  God.'  Hence  the 
Sanhedrim  said  to  Nicodemus,  '  Search,  and 
look;  for  out  of  Galilee  ariseth  no  prophet,' 
John  vii.  52.  Agreeably  to  this,  when  Philip 
said  to  Nathaniel,  '  We  have  found  him  of 
whom  Moses  and  the  prophets  did  write,  Je- 
sus of  Nazareth,'  chap,  i.45  ;  the  latter  repli- 
ed, 'Can  there  any  good  thing  come  out  of 
Nazareth?'  ver.  4G.  The  Jews  were  trans- 
ported to  find  that  Jesus  Christ  was  an  in- 
habitant of  this  fcity  ;  because  it  served  them 
for  a  pretence  to  give  him  a  name  of  con- 
tempt ;  accordingly,  they  called  him  a  JVaza- 
rene.  They  afterward  gave  the  same  despi- 
cable name  to  his  disciples.  St.  Jerome  tells 
us,  that  in  his  time  they  anathematized 
Christians  under  the  name  of  Nazarenes. — 
We  see  also  in  the  book  of  Acts,  that  Chris- 
tians were  called  Galileans ;  and  by  this 
name  they  are  knowoi  in  heathen  writers. 
>  Let  us  return.  Herod  Antipas  (son  of 
Herod  the  Great,  the  same  whom  John  the 
Baptist  reproved  for  keeping  Herodias,  his 
brother  Philip's  wife)  reigned  in  Galilee,  un- 
der the  title  of  Tetrarch,  when  Jesus  Christ 
was  cited  before  Pilate.  This  was  what  en- 
gaged the  Roman  governor  to  send  him  to 
this  prince.  Whether  Antipas,  the  tetrarch 
of  Galilee,  descended  from  heathen  parents, 
as  some  affirm  ;  whether  he  were  of  Jewish 
extraction,  as  others  say ;  or  whether  he 
were  an  Idumean,  according  to  the  general 
opinion,  is  not  very  material.  It  is  very  cer- 
tain, that  if  this  prince  were  not  sincerely  of 
the  religion  of  Moses,  he  pretended  to  be  so; 
and,  as  the  law  required  all  heads  of  families 
to  celebrate  four  grand  festivals  in  the  year 
at  the  capital  of  Judea,  he  had  come  up  to  Je- 
rusalem to  keep  the  Passover,  at  which  time 
the  Lord  Jesus  underwent  his  passion. 

The  reputation  of  our  Saviour  had  reached 
this  prince.  The  gospel  tells  us  the  absurd 
notion  that  he  had  entertained  of  him.  He 
thought  him  John  the  Baptist,  whom  he  had 
sacrificed,  with  as  much  cowardice  as  cruelty, 
to  the  revenge  of  Herodias.  His  notion  was 
founded  on  an  opinion  of  the  Jews,  who 
thought,  that  many  prophets,  particularly 
they  who  had  sealed  their  doctrine  with  their 
blood,  would  rise  again  at  the  coming  of 
the  Messiah.  Herod  was  glad  of  an  opportu- 
nity of  informing  himself  in  this  article.  He 
flattered  himself,  that  if  he  should  not  see 
such  a  singular  object  as  a  man  raised  from 
the  dead,  at  least  Jesus  Christ  would  not  re- 
fuse to  conciliate  his  esteem,  by  gratifying 
his  curiosity,  and  by  performing  some  extra- 
ordinary work  in  his  presence.  But  should 
Providence  interrupt  the  ordinary  course  of 
nature  to  amuse  a  profane  court  ?  Jesus 
Christ  not  only  would  not  prostitute  his  mi- 


raculous gifts  before  Herod,  he  would  not 
even  deign  to  answer  him. 

A  very  little  attention  to  the  genius  of  the 
great  will  be  sufficient  to  convince  us,  that 
the  silence  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  his  refusal  to 
condescend  to  the  caprice  of  Herod,  must  na- 
turally expose  him  to  the  contempt  of  this 
prince,  and  to  that  of  his  courtiers.  Accord- 
ingly, we  are  told,  that  they  '  set  him  at 
nought,  and  mocked  him,  and  sent  him  back 
again  to  Pilate.'  Some  have  inquired  a  reason 
why  Herod  put  on  him  '  a  white  garment  ;'* 
and  some  learned  men  have  thought  he  in- 
tended thereby  to  attest  his  innocence  ;  and 
this  opinion  seems  to  agree  with  what  Pilate 
said  to  tiie  Jews  ;  Neither  '  I  nor  Herod  have 
found  any  fault  in  this  man,  touching  those 
thingswhereof  ye  accuse  him.'  But  they  who 
advance  this  opinion,  ought  to  prove,  that  the 
Jews,  or  the  Romans,  did  put  white  garments 
on  persons  whom  they  acquitted.  I  own, 
though  I  have  taken  some  pains  to  look  for 
this  custom  in  the  writings  of  antiquity,  I 
have  not  been  able  to  find  it :  however,  it 
doth  not  follow,  that  others  may  not  discover 
it.  Nor  is  it  any  clearer,  in  my  opinion, 
that  the  design  of  those,  who  put  this  habit 
on  Jesus  Christ,  was  the  same  with  that  of 
the  soldiers,  who  put  a  reed  in  the  form  of  a 
sceptre  into  his  hand,  to  insult  him  because 
he  said  he  was  a  king.  I  would  follow  the  rule 
here  which  seems  to  me  the  most  sure  ;  that  is, 
I  would  suspend  my  judgment  on  a  subject 
that  cannot  be  explained. 

I  add  but  one  word  more,  before  I  come  to 
the  principal  object  of  our  meditation.  The 
evangelist  remarks,  that  the  circumstances, 
which  he  related,  I  mean  tiie  artful  address 
of  Pilate  to  Herod,  in  sending  a  culprit  of  his 
jurisdiction  to  his  bar  ;  and  the  similar  arti- 
fice of  Herod  to  Pilate,  in  sending  him  back 
again,  occasioned  their  reconciliation.  What 
could  induce  them  to  differ  .''  The  sacred  his- 
tory doth  not  inform  us  ;  and  we  can  only 
conjecture.  We  are  told,  that  some  subjects 
of  Herod  Antipas,  who  probably  had  made 
an  insurrection  against  the  Romans,  had  been 
punished  at  Jerusalem  during  the  passover 
by  Pilate,  Luke  xiii.  1,  who  had  mixed  their 
blood  with  that  of  the  sacrifices,  which  they 
intended  to  offer   to  God  at  the  feast.     But 


*  Our  author  follows  the  reading  of  the  French  Bi- 
ble, Revestu  d'un  vestement  blatic  ;  our  translation 
reads  it.  Arrayed  in  a  gorgeous  rohe  ;  and  the  origi- 
nal word  kcLfxTrpi);  signifies  both.  A  ichite  garment 
was  a  gorgeous,  a  splendid  garment,  because  priests 
and  kings  wore  icliite  garments.  See  Esther  viii.  15  ; 
2Chron.  v.  111.  The  heavenly  visions,  which  are  re- 
corded in  Scripture,  and  which  were  intended  for  the 
more  easy  apprehension  a?id  instruction  of  tliose  who 
were  honoured  with  them,  preserve  an  analogy  in 
their  imagery  between  themselves  and  the  known 
objects  of  real  life.  Hence  God,  Christ,  angels,  arid 
the  spirits  of  the  just,  are  represented  as  clothed  in 
irhite,  Dan.  vii.  9 ;  Luke  ix.  29;  Acts  i.  10,  and 
Rev.  iii.  4. 

Herod's  design  in  arraying  Christ  in  white  is  not 
known  ;  and  whether  we  ought,  with  Casaubon,  in 
the  following  word.s,  to  find  a  nnjstery  in  it,  we  will 
not  pretend  to  say.  "Cum  igitur  vestis  Candida, 
apud  veteres,  regia  pariter  et  |sacerdotalis  esset ;  quit 
mysterio  i&clxima.  providentia  divina  non  agnoscat ; 
qiiod  verus  rex,  verus  sacerdos,  a  suis  irrisoribus 
Candida  veste  amicitur.'  Fuit,  quidem,  istoruin  ani- 
mus pessimus :  sed  hoc  veritatis  signifirationem  mys- 
ticam,  neque  hie,  neque  in  crucis  titulo  leedebat." 
Eierc.  in  Bar-  Annal.  S.  73,  E.  16. 


Ser.  XIX.] 


CHRISTIANITY  NOT  SEDITIOUS. 


187 


the  Scripture  does  not  say,  whether  this 
affair  occasioned  the  difference  that  subsisted 
between  the  tetrarch  of  the  Jews  and  the 
Roman  governor.  In  general,  it  was  na- 
tural for  these  two  men  to  be  at  enmity.  On 
the  one  hand,  the  yoke,  which  the  Romans 
had  put  on  all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  was 
Bufficient  to  excite  the  impatience  of  all,  ex- 
cept the  natives  of  Rome  ;  and  to  stir  them 
up  to  perplex  and  to  counteract  the  govern- 
ors, whom  they  set  over  the  countries  which 
they  had  invaded.  On  the  other,  it  must  be 
acknowledged,  that  they,  who  are  deputed  to 
govern  conquered  provinces,  and,  for  a  time, 
to  represent  tlie  sovereign  there,  very  seldom 
discharge  their  offices  with  mildness  and 
equity.  They  are  instantly  infatuated  with 
that  shadow  of  royalty  to  which  they  have 
not  been  accustomed ;  and  hence  come  pride 
and  insolence.  They  imagine,  they  ought  to 
pusii  their  fortune,  by  making  the  most  of  a 
rank  from  which  they  must  presently  descend; 
and  hence  come  injustice  and  extortion.  The 
reconciliation  of  Herod  and  Pilate  is  more 
surprising  than  their  discord. 

We  hasten  to  more  important  subjects. 
We  will  direct  all  your  remaining  attention 
to  the  examination  of  the  text,  '  He  stirreth 
up  the  people  from  Galilee  to  this  place.'  The 
doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ  has  always  been  ac- 
cused of  troubling  society.  They,  who 
have  preached  truth  and  virtue,  have  always 
been  accounted  disturbers  of  the  peace  of 
society.     I  would  inquire. 

In  what  respects  this  charge  is  false  ;  and 
in  what  respects  it  is  true. 

II.  From  the  nature  of  those  troubles  which 
Jesus  Christ,  and  his  ministers,  excite,  I 
would  derive  an  apology  for  Christianity  in 
general,  and  for  a  gospel  ministry  in  particu- 
lar ;  and  prove  that  the  troubling  of  society 
ought  not  to  be  imputed  to  those  who  preach 
the  doctrine  of  Christ;  but  to  those  who 
hear  it. 

III.  As  we  are  now  between  two  days  of 
solemn  devotion,  between  a  fast,  which  we 
have  observed  a  few  days  ago,  and  a  com- 
munion, that  we  shall  receive  a  few  days 
hence  :  I  sliall  infer  from  the  subject  a  few 
rules,  by  which  you  may  know,  whether  you 
have  kept  the  first  of  these  solemnities,  or 
whether  you  will  approach  the  last,  with  suit- 
able dispositions.  Our  te.xt,  you  see,  my 
brethren,  will  supply  us  with  abundant  mat- 
ter for  the  remaining  part  of  this  exercise. 

1.  One  distinction  will  explain  our  first 
article,  and  will  show  us  in  what  respects 
religion  does  not  disturb  society,  and  in  what 
respects  it  does.  We  must  distinguish  what 
religion  is  in  itself  from  the  effects  which  it 
produces  through  the  dispositions  of  those  to 
whom  it  is  preached.  In  regard  to  the  first, 
Jesus  Christ  is  'the  Prince  of  Peace.'  This 
idea  the  prophets,  this  idea  the  angels,  who 
announced  his  coming,  gave  of  him  :  '  Unto 
us  a  child  is  born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given,  and 
the  government  shall  be  upon  his  shoulder  : 
and  his  name  shall  be  called,  Wonderful, 
Counsellor,  The  mighty  God,  The  everlast- 
ing Father,  The  Prince  of  Peace  :'  this  is 
what  the  prophets  said  of  him,  Isa.  ix.  6. 
'  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth 
peace,  good-will  towards  men  I'  Luke  ii.  14. 


This  was  the  exclamation  of  the  heavenly 
host,  when  they  appeared  to  the  shepherds. 
Jesus  Christ  perfectly  answers  these  descrip- 
tions. 

Consider  the  kingdom  of  this  divine  Sa- 
viour, and  you  will  find,  all  his  maxims  are 
•peace,  all  tend  to  unity  and  concord  :  '  A  new 
commandment  I  give  unto  you,  that  ye  love 
one  another  ;  by  this  shall  all  men  know  that 
ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to 
another,'  John  xiii.  34.  Peace  is  the  inheri- 
tance he  left  to  his  disciples :  peace*  Heave 
with  you,  my  peace  I  give  unto  you,'  chap. 
xiv.  27.  Peace  between  God  and  man;  be- 
ing justified  by  faith  we  have  peace  with 
God,'  Rom.  V.  I ;  he  has  reconciled  '  all 
things  unto  himself,  having  made  peace 
through  the  blood  of  his  cross,'  Col.  i.  20. 
Peace  between  Jews  and  Gentiles  ;  '  for  he 
is  our  peace,  who  hath  made  both  one,  and 
hath  broken  down  the  middle  wall  of  parti- 
tion between  us  ;  and  came  and  preached 
peace  to  you  which  were  afar  off,  and  to 
them  that  were  nigh,'  Eph.  ii.  14.17.  Peace 
in  the  society  of  the  first  disciples ;  for  '  all 
that  believed  were  together,  and  had  all 
things  common,'  Acts  ii.  44.  Peace  in  the 
conscience  ;  for  without  Jesus  Christ  trouble 
and  terror  surround  us.  Heaven  is  armed 
with  lightnings  and  thunderbolts,  the  earth 
under  the  curse,  a  terrible  angel,  with  a 
flaming  sword,  forbids  our  access  to  the  gate 
of  paradise,  and  the  stmgs  of  conscience  are 
'  the  arrows  of  the  Almighty ;  the  poison 
whereof  drinketh  up  the  spirit.'  Job  vi.  4. 
But  at  the  approach  of  Jesus  Christ  our  mi- 
series flee,  and  we  listen  to  his  voice,  which 
cries  to  us,  '  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labour 
and  are  heavy  laden,  and  ye  shall  find  rest 
unto  your  souls,'  Matt.  ix.  28,  29. 

But,  if  religion,  considered  in  itself,  breathes 
only  peace,  it  actually  occasions  trouble  in 
society  ;  through  the  dispositions  of  those  to 
whom  it  is  preached.  According  to  the  gene- 
ral dispositions  of  mankind,  the  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ  must  necessarily  disgust,  and 
therefore  disturb,  schools,  courts,  churches, 
and  families;  stirring  up  one  minister  against 
another  minister,  a  confessor  against  a  tyrant, 
a  pastor  against  a  people,  a  father  against  his 
family. 

1.  Schools.  There  were  two  celebrated 
schools  in  the  days  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Pagan 
school,  and  the  Jewish  school.  The  Pagan 
schools  were  fountains  of  errors.  They 
taught  erroneous  opinions  of  God,  whose  ex- 
cellence they  pretended  to  represent  by 
figures  of  men,  animals,  and  devils.  They 
taught  erroneous  opinions  of  man,  of  whose 
origin,  obligations,  and  end,  they  were  total- 
ly ignorant.  They  taught  erroneous  opinions 
of  morality,  which  they  had  adjusted  not  ac- 
cording to  the  dictates  of  conscience,  but 
agreeably  to  the  suggestions  of  their  own 
vicious  hearts. 

The  Jewish  schools,  originally  directed  by 
a  heavenly  light,  had  not  fallen  into  errors  so 
gross  :  but  they  were  not  exempt  ;  they  had 
even  embraced  some  capital  mistakes.  The 
fundamental  article  of  the  Jewish  religion, 
that  on  which  depended  all  their  hopes  and 
all  their  joys,  I  mean  the  doctrine  of  the 
Messiah,  was  precisely  that  of  which  they 


188 


CHRISTIANITY  NOT  SEDITIOUS. 


[Ser.  XIX. 


had  entertained  the  most  false  ideas.  They 
represented  to  themselves  a  Messiah  of  flesh 
and  blood,  one  adapted  to  the  relish  of  human 
passions.  They  authorized  the  most  criminal 
remissness,  and  violated  the  most  inviolable 
rights  of  religion  and  nature.  Revenge,  in 
their  opinion,  was  inseparable  from  man. 
Concupiscence  was  perfectly  consistent  with 
purity  of  heart.  Perjury  changed  its  nature, 
when  it  was  accompanied  with  certain  dou- 
ceurs. Divorce  was  a  prevention  of  discord, 
and  one  of  the  domestic  rights  of  a  married 
person. 

The  Christian  religion  appears  in  the  world, 
and  in  it  other  ideas  of  God,  of  man,  of  vir- 
tue, of  the  expected  Messiah  ;  other  notions 
of  concupiscence  and  revenge,  of  peijury, 
and  of  all  the  principal  points  of  religion  and 
morality.  Christianity  appears  in  the  world. 
The  Lord  of  the  universe  is  no  longer  asso- 
ciated with  other  beings  of  the  same  kind. 
He  is  no  longer  an  incestuous  being,  no  inore 
a  parricide,  an  adulterer.  He  is  a  being  alone 
in  his  essence,  independent  in  his  authority, 
just  in  his  laws,  wise  in  his  purposes  and  ir- 
resistible in  his  performances.  Philosophy  is 
folly.  Epicurus  proves  himself  an  idiot  des- 
titute of  reason  and  intelligence,  by  not  dis- 
covering the  characters  of  intelligence  and 
reason,  that  shine  throughout  all  the  universe, 
and  by  attributing  to  a  fortuitous  concourse 
of  atoms  the  effect  of  wisdom  the  most  pro- 
found, and  of  power  infinite  and  supreme. 
Pythagoras  is  a  master  dreamer,  who  seems 
himself  to  have  contracted  the  stupidity  of 
all  the  animals,  the  bodies  of  which  his  soul 
has  transmigrated.  Zeno  is  an  extravagant 
creature,  who  sinks  the  dignity  of  man  by 
pretending  to  assign  a  false  grandeur  to  him, 
and  makes  him  meaner  than  a  beast,  by  af- 
fecting to  set  him  a  rival  with  God.  The 
Christian  religion  appears  in  the  world.  The 
Messiah  is  not  a  pompous,  formidable  con- 
querer,  whose  exploits  are  all  in  favour  of  one 
single  nation.  Revenge  is  murder,  concupis- 
cence is  adultery,  and  divorces  are  violations 
of  the  prerogatives  of  God,  separating  what 
he  has  joined  together,  and  subverting  the 
order  of  the  world  and  the  church. 

In  this  manner.  Christian  theology  under- 
mined that  of  the  Jewish  Rabbins,  and  that 
of  the  philosophers  of  Paganism.  It  is  easy 
to  judge  what  their  fury  must  have  been 
when  they  saw  their  schools  deserted,  their 
pupils  removed,  their  decisive  tone  repri- 
manded, their  reputation  sullied,  their  learn- 
ing degenerated  into  ignorance,  and  their 
wisdom  into  folly.  Have  you  any  difficulty 
in  believing  this .''  Judge  of  what  passed  in 
former  ages  by  what  passes  now.  As  long 
as  there  are  Christians  in  the  world,  Chris- 
tianity will  be  divided  into  parties ;  and  as 
long  as  Christianity  is  divided  into  sects  and 
parties,  those  divines,  who  resist  preachers 
of  erroneous  doctrines,  will  render  them- 
selves odious  to  the  followers  of  the  latter. 
No  animals  in  nature  are  so  furious  as  an 
idiot  in  the  habit  of  a  divine,  when  any  of- 
fers to  instruct  him,  and  a  hypocrite,  when 
any  attempts  to  unmask  him. 

2.  Let  us  pass  to  our  ne.xt  article,  and  let 
us  attend  the  doctrine  of  Christ  to  court.  If 
the  servants  of  Christ  had  stirred  up  no  other 


enemies  besides  priests  and  rabbins,  they 
might  have  left  their  adversaries  to  bawl 
themselves  hoarse  in  their  solitary  schools  ; 
to  hurl  afler  the  innocent,  the  anathemas  and 
thunders  of  synagogues  and  consistories; 
and  each  Christian,  despising  their  ill-direct- 
ed discipline,  might  have  appealed  from  the 
tribunal  of  such  iniquitous  judges  to  that  of  a 
sovereign  God,  and,  with  a  prophet,  might 
have  said,  'Let  them  curse,  but  bless  thou: 
when  they  arise,  let  them  be  ashamed, '  Psal. 
cix.  28. 

But  the  grandees  of  the  world  have  oflen 
as  false  ideas  of  their  grandeur  and  power, 
as  pedants  have  of  their  jurisdiction  and 
learning.  Dizzy  with  the  height  and  bright- 
ness of  their  own  elevation,  they  easily  ima- 
gine the  regal  grandeur  extends  its  govern- 
ment over  the  priestly  censor,  and  gives  them 
an  exclusive  right  of  determining  articles  of 
religion,  and  of  enslaving  those  whose  pa- 
rents and  protectors  they  pretend  to  be.  As 
if  false  became  true,  and  iniquity  just,  by 
proceeding  from  their  mouths,  they  pretend, 
that  whatever  they  propose  is  therefore  to 
be  received,  because  they  propose  it.  They 
pretend  to  the  right  of  making  maxims  of 
religion,  as  well  as  maxims  of  policy :  and,  if 
I  may  express  myself  so,  of  levying  prose- 
lytes in  the  church  as  they  levy  soldiers  for 
the  army,  with  colours  flying  at  the  first 
word  of  command  of  His  Majesty,  for  s^ich 
is  our  good  pleasure.  They  make  an  extra- 
ordinary display  of  this  t3'ranny,  when  their 
consciences  accuse  them  of  some  notorious 
crimes  which  they  have  committed  ;  and  as 
if  they  would  wash  away  their  sins  with  the 
blood  of  martyrs,  they  persecute  virtue  to 
expiate  vice.  It  has  been  remarked,  that 
the  greatest  persecutors  of  the  church  have 
been,  in  other  cases,  the  least  regular,  and 
the  most  unjust  of  all  mankind.  This  was 
observed  by  Tertullian,  who,  in  his  apology, 
says,  '  We  have  never  been  persecuted,  ex- 
cept by  princes,  whose  lives  abounded  with 
injustice  and  uncleanness,  with  infamous  and 
scandalous  practices  ;  by  those  whose  lives 
ye  yourselves  have  been  accustomed  to  con- 
demn, and  whose  unjust  decisions  ye  have 
been  obliged  to  revoke,  in  order  to  re-estab- 
lish the  innocent  victims  of  their  displea- 
sure.'* Let  us  not  insult  our  persecutors  ; 
but,  after  the  example  of  Christ,  let  us  'bless 
them  that  curse  us  ;'  and  '  wlien  we  are  re- 
viled,' let  us  '  not  revile  again,'  Matt.  v.  44  ; 
1  Pet.  ii.  23.  Perhaps  in  succeeding  ages 
posterity  may  make  similar  reflections  on  our 
sufferings  ;  or  perliaps  some  may  remark  to 
our  descendants  what  Tertullian  remarked  to 
the  senate  of  Rome,  on  the  persecutions  of 
the  primitive  Christians.  I  will  not  enlarge 
this  article,  but  return  to  my  subject.  The 
religion  of  Jesus  Christ  has  armed  a  tyrant 
agauist  a  martyr ;  a  combat  worthy  of  our 
most  profound  considerations,  in  which  the 
tyrant  attacks  the  martyr  and  the  martyr  the 


*  Tertullian,  in  the  chapter  from  xvliirh  our  author 
quotes  the  passage  above,  remarks,  from  the  Uoman 
historians,  that  iXero  was  the  first  who  abused  the 
imperial  sword  to  persecute  Christians,  that  bomitian 
was  the  second,  and  then  adds;  Talp.<i  semper  nobis 
in.«fii-MYnres,  injusti,  impii,  turpes:  quos  et  ipsi  dam- 
nare  consuestis,  et  a  quibus  damnalos  ristituere  soliti 
estiti,    Apol.  cap.  v. 


Sek.  XIX.] 


CHRISTIANITY  NOT  SEDITIOUS. 


m 


tyrant,  but  with  very  different  arms.  The 
tyrant  with  cruelty,  the  martyr  with  pa- 
tience ;  the  tyrant  with  blasphemy,  the  mar- 
tyr with  prayer;  the  tyrant  with  curses,  tiie 
martyr  with  blessing ;  the  tyrant  with  inhu- 
man barbarity,  beyond  the  ferocity  of  the 
most  fierce  and  savage  animals,  the  martyr 
with  an  unshaken  steadiness,  that  elevates 
the  man  above  humanity,  and  fills  his  mouth 
with  songs  of  victory  and  benevolence, 
amidst  the  most  cruel  and  barbarous  tor- 
ments. 

3.  I  said,  farther,  that  the  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ  often  occasioned  troubles  in  the  cliurck, 
and  e.xcited  the  pastor  against  tJie  flock. 
The  gospel-ministry,  I  mean,  is  such  that  we 
cannot  exercise  it,  without  often  applying 
the  fire  and  the  knife  to  the  wounds  of  some 
of  our  hearers.  Yes  !  these  ministers  of  the 
gospel,  these  heads  of  the  mystical  body  of 
Christ,  these  fathers,  these  ambassadors  of 
peace,  these  shepherds,  to  whom  the  Scrip- 
tures give  the  kindest  and  most  tender  names; 
these  are  sometimes  incendiaries  and  fire- 
brands, who  in  i.nitation  of  their  great  mas- 
ter, Jesus  Christ,  the  '  shepherd  and  bishop 
of  souls,  come  to  set  fire  on  the  earth,'  1  Pet. 
ii.  25;  Luke  xii.  4!). 

Two  things  will  make  this  article  very 
plain :  consider  our  commission,  and  consi- 
der society.  It  is  our  cormnission,  that  we 
should  suffer  no  murmuring  in  your  adversi- 
ties, no  arrogance  in  your  prosperities,  no 
revenge  under  your  injuries,  no  injustice  in 
your  dealings,  no  irregularity  in  your  actions, 
no  inutility  in  your  words,  no  impropriety  in 
your  thoughts. 

Society,  on  the  contrary,  forms  continual 
obstacles  against  the  execution  of  tliis  com- 
mission. Here,  we  meet  with  an  admired 
wit,  overflowing  witli  calumny  and  treach- 
ery, and  increasing  his  own  fame  by  commit- 
ting depredations  on  the  characters  of  others. 
There,  we  see  a  superb  palace,  where  the  fa- 
mily tread  on  azure  and  gold,  glittering  with 
magnificence  and  pomp,  and  founded  on  the 
ruins  of  the  houses  of  widows  and  orphans. 
Yonder  we  behold  hearts  closely  united  ;  but, 
alas !  united  by  a  criminal  tie,  a  scandalous 
intelligence. 

Suppose  now  a  pastor,  not  a  pastor  by 
trade  and  profession,  but  a  zealous  and  reli- 
gious pastor;  who  judges  of  his  commission, 
not  by  the  revenue  which  belongs  to  it,  but 
by  the  duties  which  it  obliges  him  to  perform. 
What  is  such  a  man  ?  A  firebrand,  an  in- 
cendiary. He  is  going  to  sap  the  founda- 
tions of  that  house,  which  subsists  only  by 
injustice  and  rapine ;  ho  is  going  to  trouble 
that  false  peace,  and  those  unworthy  plea- 
sures, which  the  impure  enjoy  in  their  union  : 
and  so  of  the  rest. 

Among  the  sinners  to  whose  resentment 
we  expose  ourselves,  we  meet  with  some 
whom  birth,  credit,  and  fortune,  have  raised  to 
a  superior  rank,  and  who  hold  our  lives  and 
fortunes  in  their  hands.  Moses  finds  a  Pha- 
raoh ;  Elijah  an  Ahab,  and  a  Jezebel ;  St. 
John  Baptist  a  Herod,  an  Herodias ;  St. 
Paul  a  Felix  and  a  Drusilla  ;  St.  Ambrose  a 
Theodosiiis ;  St.  Chrysostom  a  Eudoxia,  or, 
to  use  his  own  words,  '  another  Herodias, 
who  rageth  afresh,  and  who  demandeth  the 
2  B 


head  of  John  Baptist  again.'  How  is  H 
possible  to  attack  such  formidable  persona 
without  arming  society,  and  without  incur- 
ring the  charge  of  mutiny  ?  Well  may  such 
putrefied  bodies  shriek,  when  cutting,  and 
burning,  and  actual  cauteries  are  applied  to 
the  mortified  parts '.  Well  may  the  criminal 
roar  when  the  judgments  of  God  put  hit 
conscience  on  the  rack  ! 

4.  But  censure  and  reproof  belong  not  only 
to  pastors  and  leaders  of  flocks,  they  are  the 
duties  of  all  Christians ;  Christianity,  there- 
fore, will  often  excite  troubles  in  families, 
A  slight  survey  of  each  family  will  be  suffi- 
cient to  convince  us,  that  each  has  some  pre- 
vailing evil  habit,  some  infatuating  prejudice, 
some  darling  vice.  Amidst  all  these  disor- 
ders, each  Christian  is  particularly  called  to 
censure,  and  to  reprove  ;  and  each  of  our 
houses  ougiit  to  be  a  church,  in  which  the 
master  should  alternately  execute  the  offices 
of  a  priest  and  prince,  and  boldly  resist  those 
who  oppose  his  maxims.  Christian  charity, 
indeed,  requires  us  to  bear  with  one  ano- 
ther's frailties.  Ciiarity  maintains  union, 
notwithstanding  differences  on  points  that 
are  not  essential  to  salvation  and  conscience. 
Charity  requires  us  to  become  '  to  the  Jews 
as  Jews,  to  tliem  that  are  without  law  as 
without  law,  to  be  made  all  things  to  all 
men,'  1  Cor.  ix.  2C — 22.  But,  after  all,  cha- 
rity does  not  allow  us  to  tolerate  the  perni- 
cious practices  of  all  those  with  whom  we 
are  connected  by  natural  or  social  ties,  much 
less  does  it  allow  us  to  follow  them  down  a 
precipice.  And,  deceive  not  yourselves,  my 
brethren,  there  is  a  moral  as  well  as  a  doc- 
trinal denial  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  not  enough, 
you  know,  to  believe  and  to  respect  the  truth 
inwardly  ;  when  the  mouth  is  shut,  and  sen- 
timents palliated,  religion  is  denied.  In  like 
manner,  in  society,  in  regard  to  morals,  it 
is  not  enough  to  know  our  dutv,  and  to  be 
guilty  of  reserves  in  doing  it.  If  virtue  be 
concealed  in  the  heart ;  if,  through  timidity 
or  complaisance,  people  dare  not  openly  pro- 
fess it,  they  apostatize  from  the  practical 
part  of  religion.  Always  when  you  fall  in 
with  a  company  of  slanderers,  if  you  con- 
tent yourself  with  abhorring  the  vice,  and 
conceal  your  abhorrence  of  it  ;  if  you  out- 
wardly approve  what  you  inwardly  condemn, 
you  are  apostates  from  the  law  that  forbids 
calumny.  When  your  parents  endeavour  to 
inspire  you  with  maxims  opposite  to  the  gos- 
pel, if  you  comply  with  thein,  you  apostatize 
from  the  law,  that  says,  '  we  ought  to  obey 
God  rather  than  men,'  Acts  vi.  29. 

Such  being  the  duty  of  a  Christian,  who 
does  not  see  the  troubles  which  the  religion 
of  Jesus  Christ  may  excite  in  families.''  For, 
I  repeat  it  again,  where  is  the  society,  where 
is  the  family,  that  has  not  adopted  its  peculiar 
errors  and  vices .''  Into  what  society  can 
you  be  admitted  ?  Witli  what  family'  can 
you  live  .''  What  course  of  life  can  you  pur- 
sue, in  which  you  will  not  be  often  obliged 
to  contradict  your  friend,  your  superior,  your 
father  ? 

II.  The  explanation  of  our  first  article, 
has  almost  been  a  discussion  of  tiie  second  ; 
and  by  considering  the  nature  of  the  troubles 
which  religion  occasions,  we  have,  in  a  man- 


190 


CHRISTIANITY  NOT  SEDITIOUS. 


[See.  XIX. 


ner  proTed,  that  they  ought  not  to  be  imput- 
ed to  those  who  toach  this  religion,  but  to 
them  who  hear  and  resist  it.  This  is  tlie 
apology  for  our  gospel,  for  our  reformation, 
»nd  for  our  ministry.  This  is  our  reply  to 
the  objections  of  ancient  and  modern  Rome. 

One  of  the  strongest  objections  that  was 
tnade  against  primitive  Cliristianity,  was 
taken  from  the  troubles  which  it  excited  in 
society.  '  A  religion  (said  some)  that  kin- 
dles a  fire  on  earth  ;  a  religion,  which  with- 
draws subjects  frow  the  allegiance  they  owe 
to  their  sovereign ;  which  requires  its  vota- 
ties  to  hate  father,  mother,  children ;  that 
excites  people  to  quarrel  with  the  gods  them- 
selves ;  a  religion  of  this  kind,  can  it  be  of 
heavenly  original .''  Can  it  proceed  from  any 
but  the  enemy  of  mankind  ?'  Blasphemy  of 
this  kind  is  still  to  be  seen  in  a  city  of  Spain,* 
where  it  remains  on  a  column,  that  was 
erected  by  Dioclesian,  and  on  which  we  read 
these  words:  'To  Dioclesian,  Jovius,  and 
Maximinus,  Cesars,  for  having  enlarged  the 
bounds  of  the  empire,  and  for  having  exter- 
minated the  name  of  Christians,  those  dis- 
turbers of  the  public  repose. 't 

The  enemies  of  our  reformation  adopt 
the  sentiment,  and  speak  the  language  of  the 
ancient  Romans.  They  have  always  this  ob- 
jection in  their  mouths :  Your  reformation 
was  the  source  of  schisms  and  disturbances. 
It  was  that  which  armed  the  Condes,  the 
Chatillons,  the  Williams ;  or,  to  use  the 
words  of  a  historian, t  who  was  educated  in 
a  society,  where  the  sincerity  necessary  to 
make  a  faithful  historian  is  seldom  acquired  : 
'Nothing  was  to  be  seen,'  says  he,  in  speak- 
ing of  the  wars,  which  were  excited  under 
the  detestable  triumvirate, ^  '  Nothing  was  to 
be  seen  but  the  vengeance  of  some,  and  the 
crimes  of  others ;  nothing  but  ruins  and 
ashes,  blood  and  carnage,  and  a  thousand 
frightful  images  of  death:  and  these  were,' 
adds  this  venal  pen,  '  these  were  the  fruits  of 
the  new  gospel,  altogether  contrary  to  that 
of  Jesus  Christ,  who  brought  peace  on  earth, 
and  left  it  at  his  death  with  his  apostles.' 

But  I  am  pleased  to  see  my  religion  attack- 
ed with  the  same  weapons  with  which  Jesus 
Christ  and  his  apostles  were  formerly  attack- 
ed. And  I  rejoice  to  defend  my  religion  with 
the  same  armour,  with  which  the  primitive 
Christians  defended  it  against  the  first  ene- 
mies of  Christianity.  To  the  gospel,  then,  or 
to  the  cruelty  of  tyrants,  to  the  inflexible 
pride  of  the  priesthood,  to  the  superstitious 
rage  of  the  populace,  ought  these  ravages  to 


*  Cluny. 

t  Grutery  corpus  Inscript.  torn.  i.  p.  380. 

\  Father  Maimbourg,  in  his  history  of  Calvinism. 
Book  iv. 

^  The  Duke  of  Guise,  the  Constable  de  Mont- 
morenci,  and  the  Marshal  de  ?t.  Andre.  The  Jesuit, 
Whose  words  our  author  quotes,  is  speaking  of  the 
reign  of  Henry  II.  in  which  the  kingdom  was  govern- 
ed, or  rather  disturbed,  by  the  triumvirate,  mention- 
ed by  Mr.  Saurin.  They,  according  to  the  president 
Thuanus,  were  governed  by  Diana  of  Poitiers,  Duch- 
ess of  Valentinois,  the  kind's  mistress;  and  she  by 
her  own  violent  and  capricious  passions.  Haec  vio- 
Itnta  et  acerba  regni  initia  .  .  .  facile  ministris 
tributa  iunt ;  praccipue  Dianae  Pictaviensi,  saprrbi  et 
impotentis  aniniifeminae ;  .  .  .  HUJL'r^  FEMLWE 
AKHITRIO  OMNIA  KEGEBANTUR.  Thuan  Hist, 
lib.  3.  These  were  the  favourilet  lueiitiuued  in  our 
prafuce  to  the  1st  vol. 


be  imputed  ?  What  did  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians desire,  but  liberty  to  worship  the 
true  God,  to  free  themselves  from  error,  to 
destroy  vice,  and  to  make  truth  and  virtue  - 
triumph  in  every  place  ?  And  we,  who  glory  ■ 
in  following  these  venerable  men,  we  ask,  i 
What  treasons  have  we  plotted  .■'  Rome !  ' 
What  designs  hast  thou  seen  us  form  .''  Have 
we  attempted  to  invade  thy  property,  to  con- 
quer thy  states,  to  usurp  thy  crowns  .-'  Have 
we  envied  the  pomp,  which  thou  displayest 
with  so  much  parade,  and  which  dazzles  thy 
gazing  followers  .-'  What  other  spirit  anima- 
ted us,  beside  that  of  following  the  dictates  of 
our  consciences,  and  of  using  our  learning, 
and  all  our  qualifications,  to  purify  the 
Christian  world  from  its  errors  and  vices .''_  If 
the  purity  of  our  hands,  if  the  rectitude  of 
our  hearts,  if  the  fervour  of  our  zeal,  have 
provoked  thee  to  lift  up  thine  arm  to  crush 
us,  and  if  we  have  been  obliged  to  oppose 
thine  unjust  persecutions  by  a  lawful  self^ 
defence  ;  is  it  to  us,  is  it  to  our  reformation, 
is  it  to  our  reformers,  that  the  discord  may 
be  ascribed  ? 

That  which  makes  an  apology  for  the  re- 
formation, and  for  the  primitive  gospel,  makes 
it  also  for  a  gospel  ministry.  It  is  sufficiently 
mortifying  to  us,  my  brethren,  to  be  obliged 
to  use  the  same  armour  against  the  children  i 
of  the  reformation  that  we  employ  against 
the  enemies  of  it.  But  this  armour,  how 
mortifying  soever  the  necessity  may  be  that 
obliges  us  thus  to  put  it  on,  is  an  apology  for 
our  ministry,  and  will  be  our  glory  before  that 
august  tribunal,  at  which  your  cause,  and 
ours,  will  be  heard ;  when  the  manner  in 
which  we  have  preached  the  gospel,  and  the 
manner  in  which  you  have  received  our 
preaching,  will  be  examined.  How  often 
have  you  given  your  pastors  the  same  title 
which  the  enemies  of  our  reformation  gave 
the  reformers .''  I  mean  that  of  disturbers  of 
the  peace  of  society.  How  often  have  you 
said  of  him,  who  undertook  to  show  you  all 
the  light  of  truth,  and  make  you  feel  all  the 
rights  of  virtue,  '  He  stirreth  up  the  people  .-"  M 
But  I  ask  again.  Ought  the  disturbances  ■ 
which  are  occasioned  by  the  preaching  of  the  ■ 
gospel,  to  be  imputed  to  those  who  foment  er- 
ror, or  to  them  who  refute  it ;  to  those  who 
censure  vice,  or  to  them  who  eagerly  and  ob- 
stinately commit  it  ?  Is  the  discord  to  be  at- 
tributed to  those  who  drown  reason  in  wine,  li 
or  to  them  who  show  the  extravagance  of 
drunkenness .''  Is  it  to  those  who  retain  an 
unjust  gain,  or  to  them  who  urge  the  neces- 
sity of  restoring  it .'  Is  it  to  those  who  pro- 
fane our  solemn  feasts,  who  are  '  spots'  in  our 
assemblies,  as  an  apostle  speaks,  Jude  12. 
and  who,  in  the  language  of  a  prophet,  *  de- 
file our  courts  with  their  feet,'*  or  to  them 

*  Isaiah  i.  12.  Tread  my  courts.  The  French  ver- 
sion is  better,  que  vous  fouliei  de  vos  pieds mcs  parvis. 
Fouler  aux  pieds,  is  to  trample  on  by  way  ofcoiUempt\ 
The  prophet  meant  to  show  the  imperfection  of  exte- 
rior worship  ;  and  probably  our  translators  intended 
to  convey  the  same  idea  by  our  phrase,  Wherefore 
do  ye  tread  my  courts!  As  if  it  had  been  said,  '  The 
worship  of  the  mind  and  heart  is  essential  to  the  holi- 
ness of  my  festivals  ;  but  you  mily  tread  my  courts; 
your  boriit's  indeed  are  present ;  but  your  attention 
and  affections  are  absent :  you  defile  my  courts,  thai 
is,  vou  celtibrato  my  festir'ols  unkolily,^  Sue  eliap. 
xxi'x.  13. 


Skb.  XIX] 


CHRISTIANITY  NOT  SEDITIOUS. 


191 


who  endeavour  to  reform  such  abuses  ?  To 
put  these  questions  is  to  answer  them.  I 
shall,  therefore,  pass  from  them  to  our  last 
article,  and  shall  detain  you  but  a  few  mo- 
ments in  the  discussion  of  it. 

III.  We  are  now  between  two  solemnities  ; 
between  a  fast,  which  we  kept  a  few  days 
ago,  and  a  communion,  that  we  shall  receive 
a  few  days  hence.  I  wish  you  would  derive 
from  the  words  of  the  text  a  rule  to  discover, 
whether  you  have  attended  the  first  of  these 
eolemnities,  and  whether  you  will  approach 
the  last,  with  suitable  dispositions. 

There  is  an  opposition,  we  have  seen,  be- 
tween the  maxims  of  Jesus  Christ  and  the 
maxims  of  the  world  ;  and,  consequently,  we 
have  been  convinced,  that  a  Christian  is  call- 
ed to  resist  all  mankind,  to  stem  a  general 
torrent ;  and,  in  that  eternal  division  which 
separates  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  from 
the  kingdom  of  sin  in  the  world,  to  fight 
continually  against  the  workl,  and  to  cleave 
to  Jesus  Christ.  Apply  this  maxim  to 
yourselves,  apply  it  to  every  circumstance  of 
your  lives,  in  order  to  obtain  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  yourselves. 

Thou !  thou  art  a  member  of  that  august 
body,  to  which  society  commits  in  trust  its 
honour,  its  property,  its  peace,  its  liberty,  its 
life,  in  a  word,  its  felicity.  But  with  what  eye 
do  men  of  the  world  elevated  to  thy  rank  ac- 
custom themselves  to  consider  these  trusts  .' 
How  often  do  these  depositories  enter  into 
tacit  agreements,  reciprocally  to  pardon  sac- 
rifices of;public  to  private  interest .''  How  often 
do  they  say  one  to  another,  Wink  you  at  my 
injustice  to-day,  and  I  will  wink  at  yours  to- 
morrow. If  thou  enter  into  these  iniquitous 
combinations,  yea,  if  thou  wink  at  those  who 
form  them  ;  if  thou  forbear  detecting  them, 
for  fear  of  the  resentment  of  those,  whose  fa- 
vour it  is  thine  interest  to  conciliate,  most 
assuredly.thou  art  a  false  Christian ;  most  as- 
suredly thy  fast  was  a  vain  ceremony,  and 
thy  communion  will  be  as  vain  as  thy  fast. 

Thou!  thou  art  set  over  the  church.  In  a 
body  composed  of  so  many  different  members, 
it  is  impossible  to  avoid  finding  many  ene- 
mies of  Jesus  Christ,  some  of  whom  oppose 
his  gospel  with  erroneous  maxims,  and  others 
with  vices  incompatible  with  Christianity. 
If  thou  live  in,  I  know  not  what,  union 
with  thy  flock  ;  if  thou  dare  not  condemn 
in  public  those  with  whom  thou  art  familiar 
in  private ;  if  thou  allow  in  private  what 
thou  condemnest  in  public  ;  if  the  fear  of 
passing  for  an  innovator,  a  hroacher  of  new 
opinions,  prevent  thine  opposing  abuses  which 
custom  has  authorized ;  and  if  the  fear  of 
being  reputed,  a  reformer  of  the  public,  pre- 
vent thy  attacking  the  public  licentiousness  ; 
if  thou  say,  '  Peace,  peace,  when  there  is  no 
peace,'  Ezek.  xii.  10  ;  most  assuredly  thy  fast 
was  a  vain  ceremony,  and  thy  communion 
will  be  a  ceremony  as  vain  as  thy  fast. 

Thou !  thou  art  a  member  of  a  family,  and 
of  a  society,  which  doubtless  have  their  por- 
tion of  the  general  corruption  ;  for,  as  I  said 
before,  each  has  its  particular  vice,  and  its 
favourite  false  maxim  :  a  maxim  of  pride,  in- 
terest, arrogance,  vanity.  If  thou  be  united 
to  thy  family,  and  to  thy  society,  by  a  corrupt 


tie  ;  if  the  fear,  lest  either  should  say  of  thee, 
he  is  a  troublesome  fellow,  he  is  a  morosa  un- 
social soul,  he  is  a  mopish  creature,  prevent 
thy  declaring. for  Jesus  Christ :  most  assured- 
ly thou  art  a  false  Christian  ;  most  assuredly 
thy  fast  was  a  vain  ceremony,  and  thy  som- 
munion  will  be  as  vain  as  thy  fast. 

Too  many  articles  might  be  added  to  this 
enumeration,  my  brethren.  I  comprise  all  in 
one,  the  peace  of  society.  I  do  not  say  that 
peace,  which  society  ought  to  cherish  ;  but 
that  peace,  after  which  society  aspires.  It  is 
a  general  agreement  among  mankind,  by 
which  they  mutually  engage  themselves  to 
let  one  another  go  quietly  to  hell,  and,  on  no 
occasion  whatever,  to  obstruct  each  other  ia 
the  way.  Every  man  who  refuses  to  accedo 
to  this  contract  (this  refusal,  however,  is  ouj 
calling),  shall  be  considered  by  the  world  as 
a  disturber  of  public  peace. 

Where,  then,  will  be  the  Christian's  peace  .' 
Where,  then,  will  the  Christian  find  the 
peace  after  which  he  aspires  .'  In  another 
world,  my  brethren.  This  is  only  a  tempestuou* 
ocean,  in  which  we  can  promise  ourselves  very 
little  calm,  and  in  which  we  seem  always  to 
lie  at  the  mercy  of  the  wind  and  the  sea. 
Yes,  which  way  soever  I  look,  I  discover  only 
objects  of  the  formidable  kind.  Nature  opens 
to  me  scenes  of  misery.  Society,  far  from 
alleviating  them,  seems  only  to  aggravato 
them.  I  see  enmity,  discord,  falsehood,  trea- 
chery, perfidy.  Disgusted  with  the  sight  of 
so  many  miseries,  I  enter  into  the  sanctuary, 
I  lay  hold  on  the  horns  of  the  altar,  I  embrace 
religion.  I  find,  indeed,  a  sincerity  in  its 
promises.  I  find,  if  there  be  an  enjoyment 
of  happiness  in  this  world,  it  is  to  be  obtained 
by  a  punctual  adherence  to  its  maxims.  I 
find,  indeed,  that  the  surest  way  of  passing 
through  life  with  tranquillity  and  ease,  is  to 
throw  one's  self  into  the  arms  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Yet,  the  religion  of  this  Jesus  has  its  crosses, 
and  its  peculiar  tribulations.  It  leads  mo 
through  pathj  edged  with  fires  and  flames.  It 
raises  up  in  anger  against  mo  my  fellow- 
citizens,  relations,  and  friends. 

What  consequences  shall  we  derive  from 
this  principle  .''  He,  who  is  able  and  willing 
to  reason,  may  derive  very  important  conse- 
quences ;  consequences  with  which  I  would 
conclude  all  our  discourses,  all  our  sermons,  all 
our  pleasures,  all  our  solemnities :  conse- 
quences, which  I  would  engrave  on  the  walls 
of  our  churches,  on  the  walls  of  your  houses, 
on  the  frontispieces  of  your  doors,  particular- 
ly on  the  tables  of  your  hearts.  The  conse- 
quences are  these.  That  this  is  not  the  place 
of  our  felicity  ;  that  this  world  is  a  valley  of 
tears  ;  that  man  is  in  a  continual  warfare  on 
earth  ;  that  nature,  with  all  its  treasures,  soci- 
ety, with  all  its  advantages,  religion,  with  all 
its  excellencies,  cannot  procure  us  a  perfect 
felicity  on  earth.  Happy  we  !  if  the  endless 
vicissitudes  of  the  present  world  conduct  us 
to  rest  in  the  world  to  come,  according  to  this 
expression  of  the  Spirit  of  God, '  Blessed  are 
the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord,  they  rest 
from  their  labours,  and  their  works  do  follow 
them,'  Rev.  xiv.  13.  To  God  be  honour  and 
glory  for  ever.    Amen. 


SERMON    XX. 


CHRIST  THE  KING  OF  TRUTH. 


John  xviii.  36 — 38. 

Jesus  said,  My  hingdom  is  not  of  this  world.  .  .  .  Pilate  said  unto  htntf 
Art  thou  a  king  then?  Jesus  answered.  Thou  say  est  that  I  am  a  king:  to 
this  end  was  J  born,  and  for  this  cause  came  I  into  the  tvorld,  that  J  should 
bear  witness  unto  the  truth.  Every  one  that  is  of  the  truth  heareth  my 
voice.     Pilate  suith  unto  him,  What  is  truth  ? 

Providence,  it  is  necessary  to  add  the  motive 
of  a  Christian  to  that  of  a  philosopher.  This 
motive  follows,  that  '  God,  who  quickeneth 
all  things,'  who  disposes  all  events,  who  be- 
stows a  sceptre,  or  a  crook,  as  he  pleases,  has 
wise  reasons  for  deferring  the  happiness  of 
his  children  to  another  economy  ;  and  hence 
presumption  arises,  that  he  will  give  them 
a  king,  whose  '  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world.' 
St.  Paul  joins  this  second  motive  to  the  first. 
'  I  give  thee  charge,  in  the  sight  of  God,  who 
quickeneth  all  things,  and  before  Jesus  Christ 
who  before  Pontius  Pilate  witnessed  a  good 
confession.'  What  is  this  good  confession  ? 
It  is  that  which  you  have  heard  in  the  words 
of  the  text,  '  Verily,  I  am  a  king,  to  this  end 
was  I  born  ;  but  my  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world.' 

The  first  of  these  motives,  my  brethren, 
you  can  never  study  too  much.  It  is  a  con- 
duct unworthy  of  a  rational  soul,  to  be  sur- 
rounded with  so  many  wonders,  and  not  to 
meditate  on  the  author  of  them.  But  our 
present  circumstances,  the  solemnity  of  this 
season,  and  particularly  the  words  of  the  text, 
engage  us  to  quit  at  present  the  motive  of  a 
philosopher,  and  to  reflect  wholly  on  that  of 
a  Christian.  I  exhort  you  to-day,  by  that 
Jesus,  who  declared  himself  «  hin<;,n.r\A  who 
at  the  same  time  said,  '  My  kingdom  is  not 
of  this  world,'  to  endeavour  to  divert  your 
attention  from  the  miseries  and  ielicities  of 
this  world,  to  which  tlse  subjects  of  the  Mes- 
siah do  not  belong.  This  is  the  chief,  this  is 
the  only  point  of  vievi^,  in  which  we  shall  now 
consider  the  text.  We  will  omit  several 
questions,  which  the  words  have  occasioned, 
which  the  disputes  of  learned  men  have  ren- 
dered famous,  and  on  which,  at  other  times, 
we  have  proposed  our  sentiments ;  and  we 
will  confine  ourselves  to  three  sorts  of  reflec- 
tions. 

I.  We  intend  to  justify  the  idea  which 
Jesus  Christ  gives  of  his  kingdom,  and  to 
prove  this  proposition,  '  My  kingdom  is  not 
of  this  world.' 

II.  We  will  endeavour  to  convince  you, 
that  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  is  therefore 
a  kingdom  of  trv'h,  because  it  is  not  a  king- 
dom of  this  world. 

III.  We  will  inquire,  whether  there  be  any 
in  this  assembly,  who  are  of  the  truth,  and 
who  hear  the  voice  of  Jesus  Christ ;  whether 
this  king,  whose  '  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,' 
has  any  subjects  in  tins  assembly.     To  these 


Have  you  ever  considered,  my  brethren, 
the  plain  conclusion  that  results  from  the  two 
motives  which  St.  Paul  addresses  to  Timothy  .'' 
Timothy  was  the  apostle's  favourite.  The 
attachment  which  that  young  disciple  mani- 
fested to  him  entirely  gained  a  heart,  which 
his  talents  had  conciliated  before.  The  apos- 
tle took  the  greatest  pleasure  in  cultivating 
a  genius,  which  was  formed  to  elevate  truth 
and  virtue  to  their  utmost  height.  Having 
guarded  him  against  the  temptations  to  which 
his  age,  his  character,  and  his  circumstances, 
might  expose  him ;  having  exhorted  him  to 
keep  clear  of  the  two  rocks,  against  which 
80  many  ecclesiastics  had  been  shipwrecked, 
ambition  and  avarice  ;  he  adds  to  his  instruc- 
tions this  solemn  charge,  '  I  give  thee  charge 
in  the  sight  of  God,  who  quickeneth  all  things, 
and  before  Jesus  Christ,  who  before  Pontius 
Pilate  witnessed  a  good  confession,  that  thou 
keep  this  commandment,'  1  Tim.  vi.  13,  14. 
God  quickens  all  things.  Jesus  Christ,  before 
Pontius  Pilate,  vv-itnc^sed  a  good  confession. 
From  the  union  of  these  two  motives  arises 
that  conclusion  which  I  would  remark  to 
you. 

The  first  may  be  called  the  motive  of  a 
philosopher:  the  second  may  be  called  the 
motive  of  a  Christian.  A  philosopher,  I 
mean  a  man  of  sound  reason,  who  finds  him- 
self placed  a  little  while  in  the  world,  con- 
cludes, from  the  objects  that  surround  him, 
that  there  is  a  Supreme  Being,  a  '  God  who 
quickeneth  all  things.'  His  mind  being  pene- 
trated with  tills  truth,  he  cannot  but  attach 
himself  to  the  service  of  the  Supreme  Being, 
whose  existence  and  perfections  he  is  able  to 
demonstrate.  He  assures  himself,  that  the 
same  Being,  whose  power  and  wisdom  adorn- 
ed the  firmament  with  stars,  covered  the  earth 
with  riches,  and  filled  the  sea  with  gifts  ot 
beneficence,  will  reward  those,  who  sacrifice 
their  inclinations  to  that  obedience  which  his 
nature  requires. 

But,  let  us  own,  my  brethren,  the  ideas  we 
form  of  the  Creator  are,  in  some  sense,  con- 
founded, when  we  attend  to  the  miseries  to 
which  he  seems  to  abandon  some  of  his  most 
devoted  servants.  How  can  the  Great  Su- 
preme,' who  quickeneth  all  things,'  leave 
those  men  to  languish  in  obscurity  and  indi- 
gence, who  live  and  move  only  for  the  glory 
of  him  .'  In  order  to  remove  this  objection, 
which  has  always  formed  insuperable  difli- 
culties  against  the  belief  of  a  God,  and  of  a 


Ser.  XX.] 


CHRIST  THE  KING  OF  TRUTH. 


193 


three  reflections  we  shall  employ  all  the  mo- 
ments of  attention  with  which  you  shall  think 
proper  to  indulge  us. 

I.  Let  us  justify  the  idea,  which  Jesus 
Christ  gives  us  of  his  kingdom,  and  let  us 
prove  the  truth  of  this  proposition,  '  My  king- 
dom is  not  of  this  world.'  To  taese  ends,  let 
us  remark  the  end  of  this  king,  his  maxims, 
his  exploits,  his  arms,  his  courtiers,  and  his 
rewards. 

1.  Remark  the  end,  the  design  of  this  king. 
"What  is  the  end  of  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  ? 
They  are  directed  to  as  many  different  ends 
as  there  are  different  passions,  which  prevail 
over  the  minds  of  those  who  are  elevated  to 
the  government  of  them.  In  a  Sardanapalus, 
it  is  to  wallow  in  sensuality.  In  a  Sennacherib, 
it  is  to  display  pomp  and  vain  glory.  In  an 
Alexander,  it  is  to  conquer  the  whole  world. 

But  let  us  not  be  ingenious  to  present 
society  to  view  by  its  disagreeable  sides.  To 
render  a  state  respectable,  to  make  trade 
flourish,  to  establisli  peace,  to  conquer  in  a 
just  war,  to  procure  a  life  of  quiet  and  tran- 
quillity for  the  subjects,  these  are  the  ends  of 
the  kingdoms  of  this  world.  Ends  worthy  of 
sovereigns,  I  own.  But,  after  all,  what  are 
all  these  advantages  in  comparison  of  the 
grand  sentiments  which  the  Creator  has  en- 
graven on  our  souls  ?  What  relation  do  they 
bear  to  that  unquenchable  thirst  for  happiness, 
which  ail  intelligent  beings  feel .'  What  are 
they  when  the  lightning  darts,  and  the 
thunder  rolls  in  the  air  ?  What  are  tliey  when 
conscience  awakes  ^  What  are  they  when 
we  meet  death,  or  what  is  their  value  when 
we  lie  in  the  tomb  ?  Benevolence,  yea, 
humanity,  I  grant,  should  make  us  wish  our 
successors  happy:  but  strictly  speaking, 
when  I  die,  all  dies  with  me.  Whether  so- 
ciety enjoys  the  tranquil  warmth  of  peace,  or 
burns  with  the  rage  of  faction  and  war ; 
whether  commerce  flourish  or  decline ;  whe- 
ther armies  conquer  their  foes,  or  be  led  cap- 
tives themselves :  each  is  the  same  to  me. 
*  The  dead  know  not  any  thing.  Their  love, 
and  their  hatred,  and  their  envy,  is  perished  : 
neither  have  they  any  more  a  portion  for 
ever  in  any  thing  that  is  under  the  sun,' 
Eccles.  ix.  5,  6. 

The  end  of  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  is 
of  another  kind.  Represent  to  yourselves 
the  divine  Saviour  in  the  bosom  of  God, 
himself  the  blessed  God.'  He  cast  his  eyes 
down  on  this  earth.  He  saw  prejudices 
blinding  the  miserable  sons  of  Adam,  passions 
tyrannizing  over  them,  conscience  condemn- 
ing them,  divine  vengeance  pursuing  them, 
death  seizing  and  devouring  them,  the  gulfs 
of  hell  yawning  to  swallow  them  up.  Forth 
he  came,  to  make  prejudice  yield  to  demon- 
stration, darkness  to  light,  passion  to  reason. 
He  came  to  calm  conscience,  to  disarm  the 
vengeance  of  heaven,  to  '  swallow  up  death 
in  victory,'  1  Cor.  xv.  54,  to  close  the  mouth 
of  the  infernal  abyss.  These  are  the  designs 
of  the  king  Messiah  ;  designs  too  noble,  too 
sublime,  for  earthly  kings.  '  My  kingdom  is 
not  of  this  world.' 

2.  The  maxims  of  this  kingdom  agree  with 
its  end.  What  are  the  maxims  of  the  king- 
doms of  this  world  .•"  I  am  ashamed  to  repeat 
them  ;    and  I  am  afraid,  if  I  suppress  them, 


of  betra3ang  the  truth.  Ah !  why  did  not  the 
maxims  of  such  as  Hobbes  and  Machiavel 
vanish  with  the  impure  authors  of  them  !  Must 
the  Christian  world  produce  partisans  and 
apologists  for  the  policy  of  hell !  These  are 
some  of  their  maxims.  '  Every  way  is  right 
that  leads  to  a  throne.  Sincerity,  fidelity, 
and  gratitude,  are  not  the  virtues  of  public 
men,  but  of  people  in  private  life.  The  safety 
of  the  people  is  the  supreme  law.  Religion 
is  a  bridle  to  subjects  ;  but  kings  are  free 
from  its  restraints.  There  are  some  illus- 
trious crimes.' 

The  maxims  of  Jesus  Christ  are  very  dif- 
ferent. '  Justice  and  judgment  are  the  bases 
of  a  throne.  Render  unto  Ccesar  the  things 
which  are  Caesar's,  and  unto  God  the  thing^s 
that  are  God's.  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of 
God  and  his  righteousness,  and  all  other 
things  shall  be  added  to  you.  Whatsoever 
ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye 
even  so  to  them.  Let  your  communication  be 
yea,  yea,  and  nay,  nay:  for  whatsoever  is  more 
than  these  cometh  of  evil,'  Psal.  Ixxx.  14. 
Matt.  xxii.21.  vi.  33.  vii.  12.  and  v.  37. 

3.  The  exploits  of  the  kingdom  of  Jesus 
Christ  accomplish  his  designs.  He  does  not 
employ  such  artillery  as  the  kings  of  the  earth 
do  to  reduce  whole  cities  to  ashes.  His  sol- 
diers are  none  of  those  formidable  engines  of 
death  in  his  wars,  which  are  called,  the  final 
reasons  of  kings.  His  forces  are  strangers 
to  that  desperate  avidity  of  conquest,  which 
makes  worldly  generals  aim  to  attain  inac- 
cessible mountains,  and  to  penetrate  the 
climes  that  have  never  been  trodden  by  the 
footsteps  of  men.  His  exploits  are,  neither 
the  forcing  of  intrenchments,  nor  the  colour- 
ing of  rivers  with  blood  ;  not  the  covering  of 
whole  countries  with  carcasses,  nor  the  fill- 
ing of  the  world  with  carnage,  and  terror  and 
death. 

The  exploits  of  the  Messiah  completely 
effect  the  end  of  his  reign.  He  came,  we 
just  now  observed,  to  dissipate  prejudice  by 
demonstration,  and  he  has  gloriously  accom- 
plished his  end.  Before  the  coming  of  Jesus 
Christ,  philosophers  were  brute  beasts  :  since 
his  coming,  brute  beasts  are  become  philoso- 
phers. Jesus  Christ  came  to  conquer  our 
tyrannical  passions,  and  he  has  entirely  ef- 
fected his  design.  He  renovated  disciples, 
who  rose  above  the  appetites  of  sense,  the 
ties  of  nature,  and  the  love  of  self;  disciples 
who,  at  his  word,  courageously  forsook  their 
property,  their  parents,  and  their  children, 
and  voluntarily  went  into  exile  ;  disciples, 
who  *  crucified  the  flesh,  with  the  aSections 
and  lusts,'  Gal.  v.  24 ;  generous  disciples, 
who  sacrificed  their  lives  for  their  brethren, 
and  sometimes  for  their  persecutors;  disciples 
who  triumphed  over  all  the  horrors,  while 
they  suffered  all  the  pains,  of  gibbets,  and 
racks,  and  fires.  Jesus  Chiist  came  to  calm 
conscience,  and  to  disarm  divine  justice,  and 
his  design  has  been  perfectly  answered.  The 
church  perpetually  resounds  with  'grace, grace 
unto  it,'  Zech.  iv.  7.  The  penitent  is  cited 
before  no  other  tribunal  than  tliat  of  mercy. 
For  thee,  converted  sinner  !  there  are  only 
declarations  of  absolution  and  grace.  Jesus 
Christ  came  to  conquer  death,  and  he  has 
manifestly  fulfilled  his  purpose.     Shall  we 


194 


CHRIST  THE  KING  OF  TRUTH. 


[Seh.  XX. 


Btill  fear  death,  after  he  has  'brought  life 
and  immortaUty  to  light  by  the  gospel  ?'  2 
Tim.  i.  10.  Shall  we  still  fear  death,  after 
we  have  seen  our  Saviour  loaded  with  its 
spoils .'  Shall  we  yet  fear  death,  while  he 
cries  to  us  in  our  agony,  '  Fear  not,  thou 
worm  Jacob ;  fear  not,  for  I  am  with  thee,' 
Isa.  xh.  14.10. 

4.  Let  us  consider  the  arms,  wLich  Jesus 
Christ  has  employed  to  perform  his  exploits. 
These  arms  are  his  cross,  his  word,  his  ex- 
ample, and  his  Spirit. 

The  enemies  of  Jesus  Christ  considered 
the  day  of  his  crucifixion  as  a  triumphant 
day.  They  had  solicited  his  execution  with 
an  infernal  virulence.  But  how  much  '  high- 
er are  the  ways  of  God  than  the  ways  of 
men,  and  his  thoughts  than  their  thoughts,' 
Isa.  Iv.  9.  From  this  profound  night,  from 
this  hour  of  darkness,  which  covered  the 
whole  church,  arose  the  most  reviving  light. 
Jesus  Christ,  during  his  crucifixion,  most  ef- 
fectually destroyed  the  enemies  of  our  salva- 
tion. Then,  '  having  spoiled  principalities 
and  powers,  he  made  a  show  of  them  openly, 
triumphing  over  them  in  it,'  Col.  ii.  15. 
Then,  he  offered  to  the  God  of  love  a  sacri- 
fice of  love,  to  which  God  could  refuse  no- 
thing. Then,  he  placed  himself  as  a  rampart 
around  sinners,  and  received  in  himself  the 
artillery  that  was  discharged  against  them. 
Then  he  demanded  of  his  Father,  not  only 
by  his  cries  and  tears,  but  by  that  blood, 
which  he  poured  out  in  the  richest  profusion 
of  love,  the  salvation  of  the  whole  world  of 
the  elect,  for  whom  he  became  incarnate. 

To  the  power  of  his  cross  add  that  of  his 
word.  He  had  been  introduced  in  the  pro- 
phecies speaking  thus  of  himself;  '  he  hath 
made  my  mouth  like  a  sharp  sword,  and  like 
a  polished  shaft,'  Isa.  xlix.  2.  And  he  is 
elsewhere  represented,  as  having  *  a  sharp, 
two-edged  sword,'  proceeding  out  of  '  his 
mouth,'  Rev.  i.  16.  Experience  has  fully 
justified  the  boldness  of  these  figures.  Let 
any  human  orator  be  shown,  whose  elo- 
quence has  produced  equal  effects,  either  in 
persuading,  or  in  confounding,  in  comforting, 
confirming,  or  conciliating  the  hearts  of 
mankind,  and  in  subduing  them  by  its  irre- 
sistible charms.  Had  not  Jesus  Christ,  in 
all  these  kinds  of  elocution,  an  unparalleled 
success .' 

The  force  of  his  word  was  corroborated 
fay  the  purity  of  his  example.  He  was  a 
model  of  all  the  virtues  which  he  exhorted 
others  to  observe.  He  proposed  the  re-estab- 
lishment of  the  empire  of  order,  and  he  first 
submitted  to  it.  He  preached  a  detachment 
from  the  world,  and  he  '  had  not  where  to 
lay  his  head.'  He  preached  meekness  and 
humility,  and  he  was  himself  'meek  and 
lowly  in  heart,  making  himself  of  no  reputa- 
tion, and  taking  upon  him  the  form  of  a 
servant.'  He  preached  benevolence,  and  '  he 
went  about  doing  good.'  He  preached  pa- 
tience, and  '  when  he  was  reviled  he  reviled 
not  again :'  He  suffered  himself  to  be  '  led 
as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and  as  a  sheep 
before  her  shearers  is  dumb,  so  he  opened 
not  his  mouth,'  Matt.  viii.  20.  ix.  29.  Phil. 
ii.  7.  Acts  X.  38.  and  Isa.  liii.  7.  He 
preached  the  cross,  and  he  bore  it.     What 


conquests  cannot  a  preacher  make,  when  he 
himself  walks  in  that  path  of  virtue  in  which 
he  exhorts  others  to  go  .' 

Finally,  Jesus  Christ  uses  the  arms  of  the 
Spirit,  I  mean  miracles ;  and  with  them  he 
performs  the  exploits  of  which  we  speak. 
To  these  powerful  arms,  Jesus  Christ  and 
his  disciples  teach  all  nature  to  yield ;  tem- 
pests subside  ;  devils  submit ;  diseases  appear 
at  a  word,  and  vanish  on  command;  death 
seizes,  or  lets  fall  his  prey  ?  Lazarus  rises  ; 
Elymas  is  stricken  blind ;  Ananias  and  Sap- 
phi  ra  die  sudden  and  violent  deaths.  More- 
over, with  these  all-conquering  arms,  he  con- 
verts unbelieving  souls ;  he  plants  the  gos- 
pel ;  opens  the  heart ;  works  faith ;  writes 
the  law  in  the  mind  ;  enlightens  the  under- 
standing ;  creates  anew ;  regenerates  and 
sanctifies  the  souls  of  men  ;  he  exercises  that 
omnipotence  over  the  moral  void  that  he  ex- 
ercised in  the  first  creation  over  the  chaos  of 
natural  beings,  and  raises  a  new  world  out  of 
the  ruins  of  the  old. 

5.  Let  us  attend  to  the  courtiers  of  the- 
king  Messiah.  Go  to  the  courts  of  earthly 
princes  ;  behold  the  intriguing  complaisance, 
the  feigned  friendships,  the  mean  adulations, 
the  base  arts,  by  which  courtiers  rise  to  the 
favour  of  the  prince.  Jesus  Christ  has  pro- 
mised his  to  very  different  dispositions.  And 
to  which  of  his  subjects  has  he  promised  the 
tenderest  and  most  durable  union  .■'  Hear 
the  excellent  reply,  which  he  made  to  those 
who  told  him  his  mother  and  his  brethren  de- 
sired to  speak  with  him  :  'Who  is  my  mother  ? 
And  who  are  my  brethren .-"  said  he,  and 
stretching  forth  his  hand  towards  his  disci- 
ples, he  added,  '  Behold  my  mother,  and  my 
brethren !  for  whosoever  shall  do  the  will  of 
my  Father,  which  is  in  heaven,  the  same  is 
my  brother,  and  sister,  and  mother,'  Matt, 
xii.  48 — 50.  Fraternal  love,  devotedness  to 
the  will  of  God,  the  most  profound  humility, 
are  the  dispositions  that  lead  to  the  heart  of 
Jesus  Christ.  How  impossible  to  arrive  at 
the  favour  of  earthly  kings  by  such  disposi- 
tions as  these  ! 

Finally,  The  great  proof,  my  brethren, 
that  the  '  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  is  not  of 
this  world,'  is  taken  from  its  rewards.  Vir- 
tue, I  grant,  sometimes  procures  temporal 
prosperity  to  those  who  practise  it.  The  sa- 
cred authors  have  proposed  this  motive,  in 
order  to  attach  men  to  the  laws  of  Jesus 
Christ.  '  Godliness  is  profitable  to  all  things, 
having  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  as 
well  as  that  which  is  to  come,'  1  Tim.  iv.  8. 
'  He  that  will  love  life,  and  see  good  days,  let 
him  refrain  his  tongue  from  evil,  and  his 
lips  that  they  speak  no  guile  ;  let  him  es- 
chew evil,  and  do  good,  let  him  seek  peace,  . 
and  ensue  it,'  1  Pet.  iii.  10,  11.  1 

One  would  suppose  St.  Peter's  thought  | 
might  be  amplified,  and  that  we  might  add, 
Would  any  man  acquire  a  fortune  ?  Let  him 
be  punctual  to  his  word,  just  in  his  gains,  and 
generous  in  his  gifts.  Would  any  man  be- 
come popular  in  his  reputation  ?  Let  him 
be  grave,  solid  and  cautious.  Would  any  man 
rise  to  the  highest  promotions  in  the  army  ? 
Let  him  be  brave,  magnanimous,  and  expert 
in  military  skill.  Would  any  man  become 
prime  minister  of  state  ?     Let  him  be  aifa- 


See.  XX.] 


CHRIST  THE  KING  OF  TRUTH. 


195 


ble,  incorruptible,  and  disinterested.  But, 
may  I  venture  to  say  it .'  This  morality  is  fit 
only  for  a  hamlet  now-a-days ;  it  is  imprac- 
ticable on  the  great  theatres  of  the  world, 
and,  so  great  is  the  corruption  of  these  times, 
we  must  adopt  a  contrary  style.  Who  icould 
acquire  a  fortune  ?  Let  him  be  treacherous, 
and  unjust,  let  him  be  concentred  in  his  own 
interest.  Who  would  become  popular,  and 
have  a  crowded  levee  ?  Let  him  be  a  shallow, 
intriguing,  self-admirer.  Who  would  occupy 
the  first  posts  in  the  army  ?  Let  him  flatter, 
let  him  excel  in  the  art  of  substituting 
protection  and  favour  in  the  place  of  real 
merit. 

What  conclusion  must  we  draw  from  all 
these  melancholy  truths .''  The  text  is  the  con- 
clusion, '  my  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world.' 
No,  Christian,  by  imitating  thy  Saviour, 
thou  wilt  acquire  neither  riches,  nor  rank: 
thou  wilt  meet  with  contempt  and  shame,  po- 
verty and  pain !  But  peace  of  conscience,  a 
crown  of  martyrdom,  an  eternal  '  mansion 
in  the  Father's  house,'  John  xiv.  2,  the  so- 
ciety of  angels,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  these 
are  the  rewards  which  Jesus  Christ  himself 
reaped,  and  these,  he  has  promised,  thou 
shalt  reap ! 

II.  We  have  proved  that  the  kingdom  of 
Jesus  Christ  '  is  not  of  this  world,  we  will 
proceed  now  to  prove,  that  it  is  therefore 
a  kingdom  of  truth.  '  Thou  sayest  that  I 
am  a  King ;  to  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for 
this  cause  came  I  into  the  world,  that  I 
should  bear  witness  unto  the  truth.' 

What  is  this  truth?  Two  ideas  may  be 
formed  of  it.  It  may  be  considered,  either 
in  regard  to  the  Jews  who  accused  Christ 
before  Pilate ;  or  in  regard  to  Pilate  himself, 
before  whom  Jesus  Christ  was  accused. 

If  we  consider  it  in  regard  to  the  Jews, 
this  truth  will  respect  the  grand  question, 
which  was  then  in  dispute  between  Jesus 
Christ  and  them ;  that  is,  Whether  he  were 
the  Messiah  whom  the  prophets  liad  foretold. 

If  we  consider  it  in  regard  to  Pilate,  and 
to  the  Pagan  societies,  to  which  this  Roman 
governor  belonged,  a  more  general  notion 
must  be  formed  of  it.  The  Pagan  philoso- 
phers pretended  to  inquire  for  truth ;  some 
of  them  affected  to  have  discovered  it,  and 
others  affirmed  that  it  could  not  be  discover- 
ed, that  all  was  uncertain,  that  finite  minds 
could  not  be  sure  of  any  thing,  except  that 
they  were  sure  of  nothing.  This  was  parti- 
cularly the  doctrine  of  Socrates.  Learned 
men  have  thought  the  last  was  Pilate's  sys- 
tem ;  and,  by  this  hypothesis,  they  explain 
his  reply  to  Jesus  Christ.  Jesus  Christ  said 
to  him,  '  I  came  to  bear  witness  to  the 
truth.'  Pilate  answered,  '  What  is  truth  .^' 
Can  frail  men  distinguish  truth  from  false- 
hood .'     How  should  they  know  truth  ^ 

Whether  this  be  only  a  conjecture,  or  not, 
I  affirm,  that,  let  the  term  truth  be  taken 
in  which  of  the  two  senses  it  will,  Jesus 
Christ  came  to  bear  witness  to  truth,  in  both 
senses,  and  that  his  is  a  kingdom  of  truth,  be- 
cause it  is  not  a  kingdom  of  thisworld:  whence 
it  follows,  that  there  are  some  truths  of  which 
we  have  infallible  evidence. 

The  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ,  '  is  not  of 
thi«  world,'    therefore  Jesus   Christ   is   the 


promised  Messiah.  The  Jews  meet  with 
nothing  in  Christianity  equal  in  difficulty  to 
this ;  and  their  error  on  this  article,  it  must 
be  acknowledged,  claims  our  patience  and 
pity. 

The  prophets  have  attributed  a  sceptre  to 
Jesus  Christ,  an  emblem  of  the  regal  autho- 
rity of  temporal  kings:  'Thou  shalt  break 
them  with  a  sceptre  of  iron.'*  They  attri- 
buted to  him  a  throne,  the  seat  of  temporal 
kings :  '  thy  throne,  O  God  !  is  for  ever  and 
ever  ;  the  sceptre  of  thy  kingdom  is  a  right 
sceptre,'  Ps.  xlv.  6.  They  attributed  to  him 
the  armies  of  a  temporal  king  :  '  Thy  people 
shall  be  willing  in  the  day  when  thou  shalt 
assemble  thine  army  in  holy  pomp,'  Ps.  ex. 
3.  They  attributed  to  him  homages  like 
those  which  are  rendered  to  a  temporal  king  : 
'  They  that  dwell  in  the  wilderness  shall 
bow  before  him  ;  and  his  enemies  shall  hck 
the  dust,'  Ps.  Ixxii.  9.  They  attributed  to 
him  the  subjects  of  a  temporal  king  :  '  Ask  of 
me,  and  I  shall  give  thee  the  heathen  for 
thine  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts  of 
the  earth  for  thy  possession,'  Ps.  ii.  8. 
They  attributed  to  him  the  prosperity  of  a 
temporal  king- :  '  The  kuigs  of  Tarshish  and 
of  the  isles,  shall  bring  presents ;  the  kings 
of  Sheba  and  Seba  shall  offer  gifts,'  Ps.  Ixxii. 
10.  They  attributed  to  him  the  exploits  of 
temporal  kings :  '  He  shall  strike  through 
kings  in  the  day  of  his  wrath  ;  he  shall  judge 
among  the  heathen,  he  shall  fill  the  places 
with  the  dead  bodies,  he  shall  wound  the 
heads  over  many  countries,'  Ps.  ex.  5,  6. 
They  even  foretold  that  the  king  promised  to 
the  Jews  should  carry  the  glory  of  his  nation 
to  a  higher  degree  than  it  had  ever  attained 
under  its  most  successful  princes. 

How  could  the  Jews  know  our  Jesus  by 
these  descriptions,  for  he  was  only  called  a 
king  in  derision,  or  at  most,  only  the  vile  popu- 
lace seriously  called  him  so  .'  Our  Jesus  had 
no  other  sceptre  than  a  reed,  no  other  crown 
than  a  crown  of  thorns,  no  other  throne  than 
a  cross  ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  rest. 
Never  was  an  objection  seemingly  more  un- 
answerable, my  brethren  :  never  was  an  ob- 
jection really  more  capable  of  a  full,  entire 
and  conclusive  solution.  Attend  to  the  fol- 
lowing considerations : — 

1.  Those  predictions,  which  are  most  in- 
contestable in  the  ancient  prophecies,  are 
that  the  sceptre  of  the  Messiah  was  to  be  'a 
sceptre  of  righteousness,'  Ps.  xlv.  6  Heb.  i. 
8;  and  that  they,  who  would  enjoy  the  feli- 
cities of  his  kingdom,  must  devote  them- 
selves to  virtue.  They  must  be  humble,  and 
'  in  lowliness  of  mind,  each  must  esteem  an 
other  better  than  himself,'  Phil.  ii.  3.  They 
must  be  clement  towards  their  enemies,  '  do 
good  to  them  that  hate  them,  and  pray  for 


*  Thou  shalt  break  them  with  a  rod  of  iron.  Our 
author  uses  the  French  version,  Tu  les  froisseras 
avec  un  sceptre  de  fer.  The  Hebrew  word  nym 
is  put  literally  for  a  common  walking-stick,  Exod. 
xxi.  19;  a?-od  of  correction,  Prov.  x.  13;  the  staff, 
that  was  carried  by  the  head  of  a  tribe,  or  by  a  ma- 
gistrate, as  an  ensign  of  his  office,  Gen.  ilix.  10-  the 
sceptre  of  a  prince,  and  indeed  for  a  rod,  or  statf,  of 
any  kind.  It  is  \)nlfifruratit)cly  for  support,  affliction, 
power,  &c.  The  epithet  iron  is  added  to  express  a 
penal  exercise  of  power,  aatliat  o{ golden  is  to  signify 
a  mild  use  of  it. 


196 


CHRIST  THE  KING  OF  TRUTH. 


[Sbr.  XX. 


them  which  persecute  them,'  Malt.  v.  44. 
They  must  subdue  the  rebellion  of  the  senses, 
subject  them  to  the  empire  of  reason,  and 
•  crucify  the  flesh  with  its  atfections,  and 
lusts,'  Gal.  V.  24.  But  of  all  the  means  that 
can  be  used  to  subjugate  us  to  those  virtues, 
that  which  we  have  supposed  is  the  most  eli- 
gible ;  I  mean,  the  giving  of  a  spiritual  and 
metaphorical  sense  to  the  ancient  prophe- 
cies. What  would  be  the  complexion  of  the 
kingdom  of  the  Messiah,  were  it  to  aiford  us 
all  those  objects  which  are  capable  of  flatter- 
ing and  of  gratifying  our  passions  ?  Riches 
would  irritate  our  avarice.  Ease  would  in- 
dulge our  sloth  and  indolence.  Pomp  would 
produce  arrogance  and  pride.  Reputation 
would  excite  hatred  and  revenge.  In  order 
to  mortify  these  passions,  the  objects  must 
be  removed  by  which  they  are  occasioned  or 
fomented.  For  the  purpose  of  such  a  mortifi- 
cation, a  cross  is  to  be  preferred  before  a  bed 
of  down,  labour  before  ease,  humiliation  be- 
fore grandeur,  poverty  before  wealth. 

2.  To  give  a  literal  meaning  to  the  prophe- 
cies which  announce  the  kingdom  of  Christ, 
is  to  make  them  contradict  themselves. 
Were  terrestrial  pomp,  were  riches,  and  hu- 
man grandeurs  always  to  attend  the  Messiah, 
what  would  become  of  those  parts  of  the 
prophecies  which  speak  with  so  much  ener- 
gy of  his  humiliation  and  sufferings  .'  What 
would  become  of  the  propiiecy,  which  God_ 
himself  gave  to  the  first  man,  '  The  seed  of 
the  woman  shall  bruise  the  serpent's  head  :' 
but  indeed  '  the  serpent  shall  bruise  his  heel.'' 
What  would  become  of  this  prophetic  saying 
of  the  psalmist,  '  I  am  a  worm,  and  no  man  ; 
a  reproach  of  men,  and  despised  of  the  peo- 
ple.''  Ps.  xxii.  6.  What  would  become  of 
this  prophecy  of  Isaiah,  '  He  hath  no  form 
nor  comeliness  ;  when  we  shall  see  him,  there 
is  no  beauty,  that  we  should  desire  him  ;  he 
was  despised,  and  we  esteemed  him  not,' 
chap.  liii.  2,  3.  Whether,  to  free  ourselves 
from  this  difficulty,  we  say,  with  some  Jews, 
that  the  prophets  speak  of  two  Messiahs  .' 
or  with  others,  dispute  the  sense  in  which 
even  the  traditions  of  the  ancient  Rabbins 
explained  these  prophecies,  and  deny  that 
they  speak  of  the  Messiah  at  all :  in  either 
case,  we  plunge  ourselves  into  an  ocean  of 
difficulties.  It  is  only  the  kingdom  of  our 
Jesus,  that  unites  the  grandeur  and  the 
meanness,  the  glory  and  the  ignominy,  the 
immortahty  and  the  death,  whicli,  tlie  ancient 
prophets  foretold,  would  be  found  in  the 
kingdom,  and  in  the  person  of  the  Messiah. 
3.  The  prophets  themselves  have  given  the 
keys  of  their  prophecies  concerning  the  Mes- 
siah. '  Behold !  the  days  come,  saith  the 
Lord,  that  I  will  make  a  new  covenant  with 
the  house  of  Israel,  and  with  the  house  of  Ju- 
dah.  I  will  put  my  law  in  their  inward  parts, 
and  write  it  in  their  hearts,'  Jer.  xxxi.  31. 
And  again,  '  I  will  have  mercy  upon  the 
house  of  Judah,  and  will  save  them  by  the 
Lord  their  God  ;  and  will  not  save  them  by 
bow,  nor  by  sword,  nor  by  battle,  by  horses, 
nor  by  horsemen,'  Hos.  i.  7.  What  is  Ihat 
covenant,  which  engageth  to  jnd  the  divine 
law  in  the  hearts  of  them  with  whom  it  is 
made  .'  What  is  this  salvation  which  is  pro- 
cured '  neither  by  bow  nor  by  sword  .-'  Where 


is  the  unprejudiced  man,  who  does  not  per- 
ceive that  these  passages  are  clews  to  tho 
prophecies,  in  which  the  Messiah  is  repre- 
sented as  exercising  a  temporal  dominion  on 
earth  .-' 

4.  If  there  be  any  think  literal  in  what  the 
prophets  have  foretold  of  the  eminent  de- 
gree of  temporal  glory  to  which  the  Mes- 
siah was  to  raise  the  Jewish  nation  ;  if  the 
distinction  of  St.  Paul,  of  Israel  after  the  flesh, 
1  Cor.  X.  IH,  from  '  Israel  after  the  Spirit,' 
Rom.  ix.  3.  G,  be  verified  in  this  respect;  if 
the  saying  of  John  the  Baptist,  '  God  is  able 
of  these  stones  to  raise  up  children  unto 
Abraham,'  Matt.  iii.  9  ;  if,  in  one  word,  as  we 
said  before,  tiiere  be  any  thing  literal  in  those 
prophecies,  loe  expect  a  literal  accomplish- 
ment of  them.  Yes  !  we  expect  a  period,  in 
which  the  king  Messiah  will  elevate  the 
Jewish  nation  to  a  more  eminent  degree  of 
glory,  than  any  to  which  its  most  glorious 
kino-s  have  ever  elevated  it.  The  heralds  of 
the  kingdom  of  our  Messiah,  far  from  contest- 
ing the  pretensions  of  the  Jews  on  this  article, 
urged  the  truth  and  the  equity  of  them.  '  I 
say  then  (these  are  the  words  of  St.  Paul, 
writing  on  the  rejection  of  the  Jews),  I  say 
then.  Have  they  stumbled  that  they  should 
fall  r  Rom.  xi.  11,  12.  God  forbid!  '  But  ra- 
ther through  their  fall  salvation  is  come  unto 
the  Gentiles,  for  to  provoke  them  to  jealousy. 
Now  if  the  fall  of  them  be  the  riches  of  the 
world,  and  the  diminishing  of  them  the 
riches  of  the  Gentiles ;  how  much  more  their 
fulness  .'' 

St.  Paul  establishes  in  these  words  two 
callings  of  the  Gentiles  :  a  calling  which  was 
a  reproach  to  the  Jewish  nation,  and  a  calling 
which  shall  be  the  glory  of  that  nation.  That 
calling  which  was  a  reproach  to  the  Jews, 
was  occasioned  by  their  infidelity  ;  '  the  fall 
of  them  was  the  riches  of  the  world,  and  the 
diminishing  of  them  the  riches  of  the  Gen- 
tiles :'  that  is  to  say,  the  apostles,  disgusted  at 
the  unbelief  of  the  Jews,  preached  the  gospel 
to  the  Pagan  world. 

But  here  is  a  second  calling  mentioned, 
which  will  be  glorious  to  the  Jews,  and  this 
callino-  will  be  occasioned  by  the  return  of 
the  Jews  to  the  covenant,  and  by  their  embra- 
cing the  gospel.  The  Gentiles,  to  whom  the 
gospel  had  not  been  preached  before,  will  be 
so  stricken  to  see  the  accomplishment  of 
those  prophecies  which  had  foretold  it ;  they 
will  be  so  affected  to  see  the  most  cruel  ene- 
mies of  Jesus  Christ  become  his  most  zealous 
disciples,  that  they  will  be  converted  through 
the  influence  of  the  example  of  the  Jews. 
'  ]f  the  fall  of  them,'  if  the  fall  of  the  Jews, 
were  '  the  riches  of  the  world,  and  the  dimin- 
ishing of  them  the  riches  of  the  Gentiles, 
how  much  more  their  fulness  .''  This  is  an  ar- 
ticle of  faith  in  the  Christian  church. 

This  furnishes  us  also  with  an  answer  to 
one  of  the  greatest  objections  that  was  ever 
made  against  the  Christian  system,  touching 
the  spiritual  reign  of  the  Messiah.  A  very 
ingenious  Jew  has  urged  this  objection ;  I 
mean  the  celebrated  Isaac  Orohio.  This 
learned  man,  through  policy,  had  professed 
the  Catholic  religion  in  Spain  :  but,  after  the 
fear  of  death  had  made  him  declare  himself  a 
Christian,  in  spite  of  the  most  cruel  tortures 


Sbb.  XX.] 


CHRIST  THE  KING  OF  TRUTH. 


197 


that  the  inquisition  could  invent,  to  make  him 
own  himself  a  Jew;  at  length  he  came  into 
these  provinces  to  enjoy  that  amiable  tolera- 
tion which  reigns  here,  and  not  only  profess- 
ed his  own  religion,  but  defended  it,  as  well 
as  he  could,  against  the  arguments  of  Chris- 
tians. Offended  at  first  with  the  gross  no- 
tions which  his  own  people  had  formed  of  the 
kingdom  of  the  Messiah,  and  mortified  at  see- 
ing how  open  they  lay  to  our  objections,  he 
endeavoured  to  refine  them.  '  We  expect 
(says  he)  a  temporal  kingdom  of  the  Messiah, 
not  for  the  gratifying  of  our  passions,  nor  for 
the  acquisition  of  riches,  neither  for  the  ob- 
taining of  eminent  posts,  nor  for  an  easy  life 
in  this  world  ;  but  for  the  glory  of  the  God  of 
Israel,  and  for  the  salvation  of  all  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  earth,  who,  seeing  the  Jews 
loaded  with  so  many  temporal  blessings,  will 
be  therefore  induced  to  adore  that  God,  who 
is  the  object  of  their  worship.'  My  brethren, 
apply  the  reflection,  that  you  just  now  heard, 
to  this  ingenious  objection.* 

5.  If  the  glory  of  the  king  Messiah  does  not 
shine  so  brightly  in  the  present  economy  as 
to  answer  the  ideas  which  the  prophets  have 
given  of  it,  we  expect  to  see  it  shine  icith  "unex- 
ampled lustre  after  this  economy  ends.  When 
we  say  that  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah 
'  is  not  of  this  world,'  we  are  very  far  from 
imagining  that  this  world  is  exempted  from 
his  dominion.  We  expect  a  period,  in  which 
our  Jesus,  sitting  on  the  clouds  of  heaven  in 
power  and  great  glory,  elevated  in  the  pres- 
ence of  men  and  angels,  will  appear  in  tre- 
mendous glory  to  all  those  '  who  pierced  him,' 
Rev.  i.7,  and  will  enter  into  a  strict  scrutiny 
concerning  the  most  horrible  homicide  that 
was  ever  committed.  We  expect  a  period  in 
which  the  plaintive  voices  of  the  '  souls  under 
the  altar'  will  be  heard,  chap.  vi.  9  ;  a  period,  in 
which  they  will  reign  with  him,  and  will  ex- 
perience ineffable  transports,  in  casting  their 
crowns  at  his  feet,  in  singing  the  song  of  Mo- 
ses the  servant  of  God,  and  the  song  of  the 
Lamb,  and  in  '  saying,  Alleluia !  for  the  Lord 
God  omnipotent  reigneth  :  let  us  be  glad  and 
rejoice,  and  give  honour  to  him,'  chap.  xix. 
6,  7.  And  we  do  not  expect  these  excellent 
displays,  merely  because  they  delioht  our  im- 
aginations, and  because  we  have  more  credu- 
lity than  means  of  conviction,  and  motives  of 
credibility.  No  such  thing.  The  miracles 
which  our  Jesus  has  .already  wrougjit,  are 
pledges  of  others  which    he    will   hereafter 

Eerform.  The  extensive  conquests,  that  he 
as  obtained  over  the  Pagan  world,  prove 
those  which  he  will  obtain  over  the  whole 
universe.      The.  subversion  of  the    natural 


*  This  learned  Jew  was  of  Seville,  in  Spain,  and, 
after  he  had  escaped  from  the  prison  of  the  inquisition 
by  pretending  to  be  a  Christian,  practised  physic  at 
Amsterdam.  Tliere  he  professed  Judaism,  and  en- 
deavoured to  defend  it  against  Christianity  in  a  dis- 
Eute  with  professor  Limborch.  The  passage  quoted 
y  Mr.  Saurin,  is  the  last  of  four  objections,  which  he 
made  against  the  Christian  religion.  The  whole  was 
published  by  Limborch,  under  the  title,  De  veritale 
religionis  Christianae,  arnica  collatio  cum  crudito  Ju- 
daeo.  Gouda.  '!to.  1G87.  The  inquisitors  exasperated 
this  celebrated  Jew,  Limborch  confuted  him :  but  nei- 
ther converted  him  ;  for  he  thought  that  every  one 
ought  to  continue  in  his  own  religion  ;  and  said,  if  he  had 
bten  born  of  parents  who  worshipped  Ihc  sun,  he  should 
not  renounce  that  worship. 

2  C 


world,  which  sealed  the  divihity  of  his  first 
advent,  demonstrates  that  which  will  signal- 
ize his  second  appearance. 

The  kingdom  of  the  Messiah  '  is  not  of  thia 
world,'  therefore  it  is  a  kingdom  of  truth, 
therefore  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Messiah  promis- 
ed by  the  prophets.  In  explaining  the  pro- 
phecies thus,  we  give  them  not  only  the  most 
just,  but  also  the  most  sublime  sense,  of  which 
they  are  capable.  To  render  those  happy 
who  should  submit  to  his  empire,  was  the 
end  of  his  coming.  But  let  us  not  forget, 
every  idea  of  solid  happiness  must  be  regula- 
ted by  the  nature  of  man. 

What  is  man  ?  He  is  a  being  divested  of 
his  privileges,  degraded  from  his  primitive 
grandeur,  and  condemned  by  the  supreme  or- 
der and  fitness  of  things  to  everlasting  misery. 
Again,  What  is  man  ^  He  is  a  being,  who, 
from  that  depth  of  misery  into  which  his  sins 
have  already  plunged  him,  and  in  sight  of  that 
bottomless  abyss  into  which  they  are  about 
to  immerse  him  forever,  cries.  '  0  wretched 
man  that  I  am !  Who  shall  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death  V  Rom.  vii.  24. 

Once  more.  What  is  man  .''  He  is  a  being, 
who,  all  disfigured  and  debased  as  he  is  by 
sin,  yet  feels  some  sentiments  of  his  primeval 
dignity,  still  conceives  some  boundless  wish- 
es, still  forms  some  immortal  designs,  which 
time  can  by  no  means  accomplish. 

This  is  man !  Behold  his  nature  !  I  propose 
now  two  comments  on  the  ancient  prophecies. 
The  interpretation  of  the  synagogue,  and  the 
interpretation  of  the  Christian  church  :  the 
commentary  of  the  passions,  and  that  of  the 
gospel.  I  imagine  two  Messiahs,  the  one  such 
as  tlie  synagogue  thought  him,  the  other  such 
as  the  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ  represent  him. 
I  place  man  between  these  two  Messiahs, 
and  I  demand,  which  of  these  two  heroical 
candidates  would  a  rational  man  choose  for 
his  guide  .''  Which  of  these  two  conquerors 
will  conduct  him  to  solid  felicity  .^  The  first 
presents  objects  to  him,  sensible,  carnal,  and 
gross :  the  second  proposes  to  detach  him 
fi'om  the  dominion  of  sense,  to  elevate  him  to 
ideas  abstract  and  spiritual,  and,  by  alluring 
his  soul  from  the  distractions  of  earthly 
things,  to  empower  him  to  soar  to  celestial 
objects.  The  one  offers  to  open  as  many 
channels  for  the  passions  as  their  most  rapid 
flow  may  require :  the  other  to  filtrate  the 
passions  at  the  spring,  and  to  keep  all  in  pro- 
per bounds,  by  giving  to  each  its  original 
placid  course.  The  one  proposes  to  march 
at  the  head  of  a  victorious  people,  to  animate 
them  by  his  valour  and  courage,  to  enable 
them  to  rout  armies,  to  take  garrisons,  to 
conquer  kingdoms  :  the  other  offers  to  disarm 
divine  justice;  like  David,  to  go  weeping 
'  over  the  brook  Cedron,'  2  Sam-  xv.  23, 
John  xviii.  1 ;  to  ascend  Mount  Calvary ;  to 
'  pour  out  his  soul'  an  offering  on  the  cross, 
Isa.  liii.  12,  and,  by  these  means  to  reconcile 
heaven  and  earth.  I  ask.  Who,  the  Jews,  or 
we,  affix  the  most  sublime  meaning  to  the 
predictions  of  the  prophets  .'  I  ask.  Whether, 
if  the  choice  of  either  of  these  Messiahs  were 
left  to  us,  the  Christian  Messiah  would^notbe 
infinitely  preferable  to  the  other  .-'  Our  Jesus, 
all  dejected  and  disfigured  as  he  is,  all  cover- 
ed as  he  is  with   his  own  blood,  is  he  not  a 


198 


CHRIST  THE  KING  OF  TRUTH 


[Ser.  XX. 


thousand  times  more  conformable  to  the 
wishes  of  a  man,  who  knows  himself,  than 
the  Messiah  of  the  Jews,  than  the  Messiah  of 
the  passions,  with  all  his  power,  and  with  all 
his  pomp  ? 

III.  [t  only  remains  to  examine,  my  bre- 
thren, whether  this  Jesus,  whose  '  kingdom  is 
not  of  this  world,'  has  many  subjects.  But, 
alas  1  to  put  this  question  is  to  answer  it ;  for 
where  shall  I  find  the  subjects  of  this  Jesus, 
whose  '  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world  f'  I  seek 
them  first  among  the  people,  to  whom  '  were 
coiimiitted  the  oracles  of  God,'  Rom.  iil.  2, 
and  who  grounded  all  their  hopes  on  the 
coming  of  the  king  Messiah.  This  nation,  I 
see,  pretends  to  be  offended  and  frightened 
at  the  sight  of  a  spiritual  king,  whose  chief 
aim  is  to  conquer  the  passions,  and  to  tear 
the  love  of  the  world  from  the  hearts  of  his 
subjects.  Hark !  they  cry,  '  We  will  not 
have  this  man  to  reign  over  us !  Away  with 
him,  away  with  him!  Crucify  him,  crucify 
him  !  His  blood  be  on  us  and  on  our  children  !' 
Luke  xix.  14 ;  John  xix.  15,  and  Matt,  xxvii. 
25. 

I  turn  to  the  metropolis  of  the  Christian 
world.  I  enter  the  Vatican,  the  habitation  of 
the  pretended  successor  of  this  Jesus,  whose 
*  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world  ;'  and  lo  !  I 
meet  with  guards,  drummers,  ensigns,  light- 
horse,  cavalcades,  pompous  equipages  in 
peace,  instruments  of  death  in  war,  habits  of 
silver  and  keys  of  gold,  a  throne  and  a  triple 
crown,  and  all  the  grandeur  of  an  earthly 
court.  I  meet  with  objects  far  more  scan- 
dalous than  any  I  have  seen  in  the  synagogue. 

The  synagogue  refuses  to  attribute  a  spi- 
ritual meaning  to  the  gross  and  sensible  em- 
blems of  the  prophets ;  but  Rome  attributes 
a  gross  and  sensible  meaning  to  the  spiritual 
emblems  of  the  gospel.  The  prophets  had 
foretold,  that  the  Messiah  should  hold  a  scep- 
tre in  his  hand;  and  the  synagogue  rejected 
a  Messiah,  who  held  only  a  reed.  But  the 
gospel  tells  us,  the  Messiah  held  only  a  reed, 
and  Rome  will  have  a  king  who  holds  a  scep- 
tre. The  prophets  had  said  Christ  should  be 
crowned  with  glory  ;  and  the  synagogue  re- 
jected a  king,  who  was  crowned  only  with 
thorns.  But  the  gospel  represents  Jesus 
Christ  crowned  with  thorns  ;  and  Rome  will 
have  a  Jesus,  crowned  with  glory,  and  places 
a  triple  crown  on  the  head  of  its  pontiff.  The 
first  of  these  errors  appears  to  me  more  tole- 
rable than  the  last.  '  Judah  hath  justified 
her  sister  Samaria,'  Ezek.  xvi.  51,  52.  Rome 
is,  on  this  article,  less  pardonable  than  Jeru- 
salem. 

Where  then  is  the  kingdom  of  our  Messiah .' 
I  turn  towards  you,  my  brethren ;  I  come  in 
search  of  Christians  into  this  church,  the 
arches  of  which  incessantly  resound  with 
pleas  against  the  pretensions  of  the  syna- 
gogue, of  the  passions,  and  of  Rome.  But 
alas !  Within  these  walls,  and  among  a  con- 
gregation of  the  children  of  the  reformation, 
how  few  disciples  do  wc  find  of  this  Jesus, 
whose  '  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world  I' 

I  freely  grant,  that  *  a  kingdom,  which  is 
not  of  this  world,'  engages  us  to  so  much 
mortification,  to  so  much  humility,  and  to  so 
much  patience  ;  and  that  we  are  naturally  so 
sensual,  so  vain,  and  so  passionate,  that  it  is 


not  very  astonishing,  if  in  some  absent  mo- 
ments of  a  life,  which  in  general  is  devoted 
to  Jesus  Christ,  we  should  suspend  the  exer- 
cise of  those  graces.  And  I  grant  farther, 
that  when,  under  the  frailties  which  accom- 
pany a  Christian  life,  we  are  conscious  of  a 
sincere  desire  to  be  perfect,  of  making  some 
progress  towards  the  attainment  of  it,  of  ge- 
nuine grief  when  we  do  not  advance  apace  in 
the  road  that  our  great  example  has  marked 
out,  when  we  resist  sin,  when  we  endeavour 
to  prevent  the  world  from  stealing  our  hearts 
from  God  ;  we  ought  not  to  despair  of  the 
truth  of  our  Christianity. 

But,  after  all,  '  the  kingdom  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  not  of  this  world.'  Some  of  you 
pretend  to  be  Christians  ;  and  yet  you  declare 
coolly  and  deliberately,  in  your  whole  con- 
versation and  deportment,  for  worldly  max- 
ims diametrically  opposite  to  the  kingdom 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

'  The  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  is  not  of 
this  world.'  You  pretend  to  be  Christians ; 
and  yet  you  would  have  us  indulge  and  ap- 
prove of  your  conduct,  when  you  endeavour 
to  distinguish  yourselves  from  the  rest  of 
the  world,  not  by  humility,  moderation,  and 
benevolence,  but  by  a  worldly  grandeur,  made 
up  of  pomp  and  parade. 

'  The  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  is  not  of 
this  world.  You  pretend  to  be  Christians; 
and  although  your  most  profound  application, 
your  most  eager  wishes,  and  your  utmost 
anxieties,  are  all  employed  in  establishing 
your  fortune,  and  in  uniting  your  heart  to  the 
world,  yet  you  would  not  have  us  blame  your 
conduct. 

'  The  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  is  not  of 
this  world.'  You  pretend  to  be  Christians, 
and  yet  you  are  offended,  whenv/e  endeavour 
to  convince  you  by  our  preaching,  that  what- 
ever abates  your  ardour  for  spiritual  blessings, 
how  lawful  soever  it  may  be  in  itself,  either 
the  most  natural  inclination,  or  the  most  in- 
nocent amusement,  or  the  best  intended  ac- 
tion, that  all  become  criminal  when  they  pro- 
duce this  effect. 

'  The  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ  is  not  of 
this  world.'  You  affect  to  be  Christians ; 
and  yet  you  think  we  talk  very  absurdly, 
when  we  affirm,  that  whatever  contributes  to 
loosen  the  heart  from  the  world,  whether  it 
be  the  most  profound  humiliation,  poverty 
the  most  extreme,  or  maladies  the  most  vio- 
lent, any  thing  that  produces  this  detach- 
ment, ought  to  be  accounted  a  blessing. 
You  murmur,  when  we  say,  that  the  state  of 
a  man  lying  on  a  dung-hill,  abandoned  bjf  all 
mankind,  living  only  to  sufler  ;  but,  amidst 
all  these  mortifying  circumstances,  praying, 
and  praising  God,  and  winding  his  heart 
about  eternal  objects  ;  is  incomparably  hap- 
pier than  that  of  a  worldling,  living  in  splen- 
dour and  pomp,  surrounded  by  servile  flatter- 
ers, and  riding  in  long  processional  state. 

But  open  your  eyes  to  your  real  interests, 
and  learn  the  extravagance  of  your  pretensions. 
One,  of  two  things,  must  be  done  to  satisfy 
us.  Either  Jesus  Christ  must  put  us  in  pos- 
session of  the  felicities  of  the  present  world, 
while  he  enables  us  to  hope  for  those  of  the 
world  to  come  ;  and  then  our  fondness  for  the 
first  would  cool  our  affection  for  the  last,  and 


Ser   XXL] 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS  CHRIST-i 


199 


an  iinmoderato''!nve''of  this  life  woiild  pro- 
duce a  disrelish  for  the  next :  or,  Jesus  Christ 
must  confiriC  his  gifts,  and  our  hopes  to  the 
present  world,  and  promise  as  nothing  in  tiie 
world  to  come,  and  then  our  destiny  would 
be  deplorable  indeed. 

Had  we  hope  only  in  this  life,  whither 
should  we  flee  in  those  moments,  in  which 
our  rauids,  glutted  and  palled  with  worldly 
objects,  most  clearly  discover  all  the  vanity, 
the  emptiness,  and  the  nothingness  of  them  ? 

Had  we  hope  only  in  this  life  whither  could 
we  flee  when  the  world  shall  disappear ;  wlian 
the  '  heavens  shall  pass  away  with  a  great 
noise,  when  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fer- 
vent heat,  when  the  earth,  and  all  its  works, 
shall  be  burnt  up  ?'  2  Pet.  iii.  10. 

Had  we  hope  only  in  this  life  whither  could 
we  flee  when  the  spiings  of  death,  which  wo 
carry  in  our  bosoms,  shall  issue  forth  aiid 
overwhelm  the  powers  of  life  .''  What  would 
become  of  us  a  few  days  hence,  when,  com- 
pelled to  acknowled'Tc  the  nullity  of  the  pre- 
sent world,  we  shall  exclaim,  Vanity  of  vani- 
ties, all  is  vanity  ? 

Ah  !  I  am  hastening  to  the  immortal  world, 
1   stretch  my  hands   towards   the   immortal 


world,  T  fuel,  T  grnsp  tlm  immortal  world  j  I 
have  no  need  of  a  Redeemer,  who  reigns  in 
this  present  world ;  I  want  a  Redeemer,  who 
reigns  in  the  immortal  world  !  My  finest  ima- 
ginations, my  highest  prerogatives,  my  most 
exalted  wishes,  are  the  beholding  of  a  reign- 
ing Redeemer  in  the  v/orld  to  which  I  go  ; 
the  sight  of  him  sitting  on  the  throne  of  his 
Father ;  the  seeing  of  '  the  four  living  crea- 
tures, and  the  four-and-twenty  elders,  falling 
down  before  him,  and  casting  their  crowns 
at  his  feet,'  Rev.  iv.  9,  10:  the  hearing  of 
the  melodious  voices  of  the  triumphant  hosts, 
saying, '  glory  be  unto  him  that  sitteth  upon 
the  throne,'  chap.  v.  13.  The  most  ravish- 
ing object,  that  can  present  itself  to  my  eyes 
in  a  sick-bed,  especially,  in  the  agonies  of 
death,  when  I  shall  be  involved  in  darkness 
that  may  be  felt,  is  my  Saviour,  looking  at 
me,  calling  to  me,  animating  me,  and  saying, 
'  To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit 
with  me  in  my  throne.'  But  what  would  all 
this  be  ?  Jesus  Christ  will  do  more.  He  will 
give  me  power  to  conquer,  and  he  will  crown 
me  when  the  battle  is  won.  May  God  grant 
us  these  blessings  !  Amen. 


SERMON  XXI. 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


Psalm  cxviii.  15,  16. 

The  voice  of  rejoicing  and  salvation  is  in  the  tabernacles  of  the  righteous: 
the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  doth  valiantly.  The  right  hand  of  the  Lord 
is  exalted:  the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  doth  valiantly . 


'  W  OMAN,  v/hy  weepest  thou .''  John  xx. 
13.  15,  was  the  language  of  two  angels  arid 
of  Jesus  Christ  to  Mary.  The  Lord  had  been 
crucified.  The  infant  church  was  in  mourn- 
ing. The  enemies  of  Christianity  were  tri- 
umphing. The  faith  of  the  disciples  was 
tottering.  Mary  had  set  out  before  dawn  of 
day,  to  give  vent  t ,  her  grief,  to  btitho  the 
tomb  of  her  master  ',/lth  tecrs,  and  to  render 
funeral  honours  to  him.  In.  t'.:ese  sad  circum- 
stances, the  heavens  opened,  two  angels 
clothed  in  white  garments  descended,  and 
placed  themselves  on  the  tomb  that  enclosed 
the  dear  depositum  of  the  love  of  God  to  the 
church.  At  the  fixed  moment,  they  rolled 
away  the  stone,  and  Jesus  Christ  arose  from 
the  grave  loadeJ  with  the  spoils  of  death. 
Hither  Mary  conges  to  see  the  dead  b.dy,  the 
poor  remains  of  him  '  who  should  h.:ve  re- 
deemed Israel,'  Lukexxiv.  21,  and,  finding 
the  tomb  empty,  abandons  her  whole  soul  to 
grief,  and  bursts  into  floods  of  teais.  The 
heavenly  messengers  directly  address  these 
comfortable  words  to  her,  '  Woman,  why 
weepest  thou  ':''  Scarcely  had  she  told  them 
the  cause  of  her  grief,  before  Jesus  puts  the 
same  question  to  her,  '  Woman,  why  weepest 
thou .'"    And  to  this  language,  which   insin- 


uates into  her  heart,  and  excites,  if  I  may 
venture  to  speak  so,  from  the  bottom  of  her 
soul,  every  emotion  of  tenderness  and  love 
of  which  she  is  capable,  he  adds  '  Mary  !' 

This  is  the  magnificent,  this  is  the  affect- 
ing object,  on  which  the  eyes  of  all  the 
church  are  this  day  fixed.  This  is  the  com- 
fortable language,  which  heaven  to-day  pro- 
claims. For  several  weeks  past,  you  have 
been  in  tears.  Your  churchoe  have  been  in 
mourning.  Your  eyes  have  beheld  only  sad 
and  melancholy  objects.  On  the  one  hand, 
you  have  been  examining  your  consciences, 
and  your  minds  have  been  overwhelmed  with 
the  sorrowful  remembrance  of  broken  reso- 
lutions, violated  vows,  and  fruitless  commu- 
nions. On  the  other,  you  have  seen  Jesus, 
betrayed  by  one  disciple,  denied  by  another, 
forsaken  h'y  all ;  Jesus,  delivered  by  priests 
to  secular  powers,  and  condemned  by  his 
judges  to  die  ;  Jesus,  '  sweating,  as  it  were, 
great  drops  of  blood,'  Luke.  xxii.  34,  praying 
in  Gethsemane,  '  O  my  Father  !  if  it  be  pos- 
sible, let  this  cup  pass  from  me,'  Matt.  xxvi. 
39,  and  crying  on  Mount  Calvary, '  My  God, 
my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?'  chap 
xxvii.  46  ;  Jesus,  lying  in  the  grave  :  these 
have  been  the   mournful  objects  of  your   late 


200 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF 


[Ser.  XXI. 


contemplation.  At  the  hearing  of  this  tragi- 
cal history,  conscience  trembles ;  and  the 
whole  church,  on  seeing  the  Saviour  en- 
tombed, weeps  as  if  salvation  were  buried 
with  him.  But  take  courage  thou  tremulous 
Conscience  !  Dry  up  thy  tears,  thou  church 
of  Jesus  Christ!  'Loose  thyself  from  the 
bands  of  thy  neck,  O  captive  daughter  of 
Sion  !'  Isa.  lii.  2.  Come,  my  brethren  !  ap- 
proach the  tomb  of  your  Redeemer,  no  more 
to  lament  his  death,  no  more  to  embalm  his 
sacred  body,  which  has  not  been  '  suffered  to 
see  corruption,'  Acts  ii.  27,  but  to  shout  lor 
joy  at  his  resurrection.  To  this  the  prophet 
mvites  us  in  the  text ;  '  The  voice  of  rejoic- 
ing and  salvation  is  in  the  tabernacles  of  the 
righteous:  the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  doth 
valiantly.  The  right  hand  of  the  Lord  is 
exalted :  the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  doth 
valiantly.' 

I  have  not  questioned,  whether  the  psalm 
in  general,  and  the  text  in  particular,  regard 
the  Messiah.  The  ancient  Jews  understood 
the  psalm  of  him ;  and  therefore  made  use 
of  it  formerly  among  their  prayers  for  his  ad- 
vent. We  agree  with  the  Jews,  and,  on  this 
article,  we  think  they  are  safer  guides  than 
many  Christians.  The  whole  psalm  agrees 
with  Jesus  Christ,  and  is  applicable  to  him 
as  well  as  to  David,  particularly  the  famous 
words  that  follow  the  text:  'The  stone, 
which  the  builders  refused,  is  become  the 
head-stone  of  the  corner.  This  is  the  Lord's 
doing,  it  is  marvellous  in  our  eyes.'  These 
words  are  so  unanimously  applied  to  the  ex- 
altation, and  particularly  to  the  resurrection, 
of  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  books  of  the  New 
Testament,  in  the  gospel  of  St.  Mathew,  in 
that  of  St.  Mark,  in  that  of  St.  Luke,  in  the 
book  of  Acts,  in  the  epistle  to  the  Romans, 
and  in  that  to  the  Ephesians,  that  it  seems 
needless,  methinks,  to  attempt  to  prove  a 
matter  so  fully  decided. 

The  present  solemnity  demands  reflections 
of  another  kind,  and  we  will  endeavour  to 
show  you, 

I.  The  truth  of  the  event  of  which  the 
text  speaks ;  '  The  right  hand  of  the  Lord  is 
exalted  :  the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  doth  va- 
liantly.' 

n.  We  will  justify  the  joyful  acclamations, 
which  are  occasioned  by  it,  '  The  voice  of 
rejoicing  and  salvation  is  in  the  tabernacles 
of  the  righteous.' 

L  Let  us  examine  the  evidences  of  the 
truth  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Infidelity  denies  it,  and  vi^hat  perhaps  may 
be  no  less  injurious  to  Christianity,  supersti- 
tion pretends  to  establish  it  on  falsehood  and 
absurdity.  A  certain  traveller"  pretends, 
that  the  inhabitants  of  the  Holy  Land  still 
show  travellers  '  the  stone  which  the  builders 
refused,'  and  which  became  '  the  head-stone 
of  the  corner.'  In  order  to  guard  you  against 
infidelity,  we  will  urge  the  arguments  which 
prove  the  truth  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
Christ :  but,  to  prevent  superstition,  we  will 
attribute  to  each  argument  no  more  evidence 
than  what  actually  belongs  to  it. 

*  I'cter  Belon.  Observ.  lib.  ii.  cap.  83.  Belon  was 
a  countryman  of  our  author,  a  physician  of  Le  Mans, 
who  travelled  from  154C  to  154y.  Ilia  travels  were 
published  1555. 


In  proof  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ, 
we  have,  1.  Presumptions.  2.  Proofs.  3. 
Demonstrations.  The  circumstances  of  his 
burial  aftbrd  some  presumptions ;  the  testi- 
monies of  the  apostles  furnish  us  with  some 
arguments ;  and  the  descent  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  on  the  church  furnishes  us  with  demon- 
strations. 

1.  From  the  circumstances  of  the  burial 
of  Jesus  Christ,  I  derive  some  presumptions 
in  favour  of  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection. 
Jesus  Christ  died.  This  is  an  incontestable 
principle.  Our  enemies,  far  from  pretending 
to  question  this,  charge  it  on  Christianity  as 
a  reproach. 

The  tomb  of  Jesus  Christ  was  found  empty 
a  few  days  after  his  death.  This  is  another 
incontestable  principle.  For  if  the  enemies 
of  Christianity  had  retained  his  body  in  their 
possession,  they  would  certainly  have  produc- 
ed it  for  the  ruin  of  the  report  of  his  resur- 
rection. Hence  arises  a  presumption  that 
Jesus  Christ  rose  from  the  dead. 

If  the  body  of  Jesus  Christ  was  not  rais- 
ed from  the  dead,  it  must  have  been  stolen 
away.  But  this  theft  is  incredible.  Who 
committed  it .-'  The  enemies  of  Jesus  Christ? 
Would  they  have  contributed  to  his  glory, 
by  countenancing  a  report  of  his  resurrec- 
tion .''  Would  his  disciples  .-'  It  is  probable, 
they  would  not ;  and,  it  is  next  to  certain, 
they  could  not.  How  could  they  have  under- 
taken to  remove  the  body .-"  Frail  and  timo- 
rous creatures,  people,  who  fled  as  soon  as 
they  saw  him  taken  into  custody ;  even 
Peter,  the  most  courageous,  trembled  at  the 
voice  of  a  servant  girl,  and  three  times  de- 
nied that  he  knew  him  ;  people  of  this  char- 
acter, would  they  have  dared  to  resist  the  au-  . 
thority  of  the  governor .'  Would  they  have  ■ 
undertaken  to  oppose  the  determination  of  ^ 
the  Sanhedrim,  to  force  a  guard,  and  to 
elude,  or  to  overcome,  soldiers  armed  and 
aware  of  danger .''  If  Jesus  Christ  were  not 
risen  again  (I  speak  the  language  of  unbe- 
lievers), he  had  deceived  his  disciples  with 
vain  hopes  of  his  resurrection.  How  came 
the  disciples  not  to  discover  the  imposture .'' 
Would  they  have  hazarded  themselves  by  un- 
dertaking an  enterprise  so  perilous,  in  favour 
of  a  man  who  had  so  cruelly  imposed  on  their 
credulity .'' 

But  were  we  to  grant  that  they  formed  the 
design  of  removing  the  body,  how  could  they 
have  executed  it .-'  How  could  soldiers,  arm- 
ed, and  on  guard,  suffer  themselves  to  be 
overreached  by  a  few  timorous  people  ?  '  Ei- 
ther (says  St.  Augustine),*  they  were  asleep 
or  awake:  if  they  were  awake,  why  should 
they  suffer  the  body  to  be  taken  away  ?  If 
asleep,  how  could  they  know  that  the  disci- 
ples took  it  away  .■*  How  dare  they  then  de- 
pose that  it  was  stolen  ?  All  these,  however, 
are  only  presumptions. 

The  testimony  of  the  apostles  furnishes  us 
with  arguments,  and  there  are  eight  consid- 
erations which  give  their  evidence  sufficient 
weight.  Remark  the  nature,  and  the  number, 
of  the  witnesses :  the  facts  they  avow,  and 
the  agreement  of  their  evidence  :  the  tribu- 
nals before  which  they  stood,  and  the  time 

*  Serm.  ii.  in  Ps.  xsxvi. 


Ser.  XXI.] 


JESUS  CHRIST. 


201 


in  which  they  made  their  depositions:  the 
place  where  they  affirmed  the  resurrection, 
and  their  motives  for  doing  so. 

1.  Consider  the  nature  of  these  witnesses. 
Had  they  been  men  of  opulence  and  credit 
in  the  world,  we  might  have  thought  that 
their  reputation  gave  a  run  to  the  fable.  Had 
they  been  learned  and  eloquent  men,  we 
might  have  imagined,  that  the  style  in  which 
they  told  the  tale  had  soothed  the  souls  of 
the  people  into  a  belief  of  it.  But,  for  my 
part,  when  I  consider  that  the  apostles  were 
the  lowest  of  mankind,  without  reputation  to 
impose  on  people,  without  authority  to  com- 
pel, and  without  riches  to  reward  :  when  I 
consider,  that  they  were  mean,  rough,  un- 
learned men,  and  consequently  very  unequal 
to  the  task  of  putting  a  cheat  upon  others  ; 
I  cannot  conceive,  that  people  of  this  char- 
acter could  succeed  in  deceiving  the  whole 
church. 

2.  Consider  the  number  of  these  loitnesscs. 
St.  Paul  enumerates  them,  and  tells  us,  that 
Jesus  Christ  'was  seen  of  Cephas,'  1  Cor. 
XV-  5,  &c.  This  appearance  is  related  by 
St.  Luke,  who  says,  '  the  Lord  is  risen  in- 
deed, and  has  appeared  to  Simon,'  chap, 
xxiv.  34.  TJie  apostle  adds,  '  then  he  was 
seen  of  the  twelve:'  this  is  related  by  St. 
Mark,  who  says,  '  he  appeared  unto  the  ele- 
ven,' chap.  xvi.  14  ;  it  was  the  same  appear- 
ance, for  the  apostles  retained  the  appellation 
twelve,  although,  after  Judas  had  been  guil- 
ty of  suicide,  they  were  reduced  to  eleven. 
St.  Paul  adds  farther,  '  after  that  he  was  seen 
of  above  five  hundred  brethren  at  once :' 
Jesus  Christ  promised  this  appearance  to  the 
women,  '  Go  into  Galilee,  and  tell  my  breth- 
ren that  they  shall  see  me  there,'  Matt, 
xxviii.  10.  St.  Luke  tells  us,  in  the  first 
chapter  of  Acts,  that  the  church  consisted  of 
*  about  a  hvmdred  and  twenty'  members ; 
this  was  the  church  at  Jerusalem :  but  the 
greatest  part  of  the  five  himdred,  of  whom 
St.  Paul  speaks,  were  of  Galilee,  where  Je- 
sus Christ  had  preached  his  gospel,  and  where 
these  converts  abode  after  his  resurrection. 
The  apostle  subjoins,  '  after  that  he  was  seen 
of  James ;  this  appearance  is  not  related  by 
the  evangelists,  but  St.  Paul  knew  it  by  tra- 
dition.* St.  Jerome  writes,  that  in  a  Hebrew 
gospel,  attributed  to  St.  Matthew,  called  The 
Gospel,  of  the  jYazarcnes,  it  was  said,  '  Jesus 
Christ  appeared  to  St.  James ;'  that  this 
apostle  having  made  a  vow  neither  to  eat  nor 
drink  till  Jesus  should  rise  from  the  dead,  the 
divine  Saviour  took  bread  and  broke  it,  took 
wine  and  povired  it  out  and  said  to  him,  '  Eat 
and  drink,  for  the  Son  of  Man  is  risen  from 
the  dead.'t     St  Paul  yet  adds  farther,  '  Then 


*  Two  of  our  Lord's  apostles  were  named  James. 
The  elder  of  the  two,  brother  of  John,  was  put  to 
death  by  Ilerod,  Acts  .\ii.  2.  The  other,  who  was  a 
first  cousin  to  Jesus  Clirist,  was  called  the  less,  the 
younger  probably,  and  lived  many  years  after.  It  is 
not  certain  which  of  the  two  St.  Paul  means.  If 
he  mean  the  fust,  he  had  the  account  of  the  appear- 
ing of  the  Lord  to  him,  probably,  as  Mr.  Sauriu  says, 
by  tradition  :  if  the  last,  it  is  likely  ho  had  it  from 
James  himself;  for  him  he  saw  at  Jemsalem,  Gal. 
i.  19.  and  he  was  living  in  the  year  .57,  when  St. 
Paul  wrote  this  first  Epistle  to  the  Corintliians. 

t  The  gospel,  of  which  Mr.  Saurin,  after  St.  Je- 
rome, speaks,  is  now  lost.  It  was  probably  one  of 


he  was  seen  of  all  the  apostles ;  and  last  of 
all,  of  me  also,  as  of  one  born  out  of  due 
time.'  So  numerous  were  the  witnesses  of 
the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ !  from  this 
fact  we  derive  a  second  argument ;  for,  had 
the  witnesses  been  few,  it  might  have  been 
said,  that  the  base  design  of  deceiving  the 
whole  church  was  formed  by  one,  and  propa- 
gated by  a  few  more  ;  or  that  some  one  had 
fancied  he  saw  Jesus  Christ:  but  when  St. 
Paul,  when  the  rest  of  the  apostles,  when 
'  five  hundred  brethren'  attest  the  truth  of 
the  fact,  what  room  remains  for  suspicion  and 
doubt  ? 

3.  Observe  the  facts  themselves  which  they 
avoic.  Had  they  been  metaphysical  reason- 
ings, depending  on  a  chain  of  principles  and 
consequences ;  had  they  been  periods  of  chro- 
nology, depending  on  long  and  difficult  cal- 
culations ;  had  they  been  distant  events, 
which  could  only  have  been  known  by  the 
relations  of  others  ;  their  reasonings  might 
have  been  suspected ;  but  they  are  facts 
which  are  in  question,  facts  which  the  wit- 
nesses declared  they  had  seen  with  their  own 
eyes,  at  divers  places,  and  at  several  times. 
Had  they  seen  Jesus  Christ .'  Had  they 
touched  him  .-'  Had  they  sitten  at  table  and 
eaten  with  him  ?  Had  they  conversed  with 
him .''  All  these  are  questions  of  fact :  it 
was  impossible  they  could  be  deceived  ia 
them. 

4.  Remark  the  agreement  of  their  evidence. 
They  all  unanimously  deposed,  that  Jesus 
Christ  rose  from  the  dead.  It  is  very  extra- 
ordinary, that  a  gang  of  five  hundred  impos 
tors  (I  speak  the  language  of  infidels),  a  com- 
pany, in  which  there  must  needs  be  people 
of  different  capacities  and  tempers,  the  witty 
and  the  dull,  the  timid  and  the  bold  :  it  is 
very  strange,  that  such  a  numerous  body  as 
this  should  maintain  a  unity  of  evidence. 
This  however  is  the  case  of  oar  witnesses. 
What  Christian  ever  contradicted  himself.'' 
What  Christian  ever  impeached  his  accompli- 
ces .'  What  Christian  ever  discovered  this 
pretended  imposture .'' 

5.  Observe  the  tribunals  before  which  they 
gave  evidence,  and  the  innumerable  multi- 
tude of  people  by  whom  their  testimony  was 
examined,  by  Jews  and  heathens,  by  philoso- 
phers and  Rabbles,  and  by  an  infinite  number 
of  people,  who  went  annually  to  Jerusalem. 
For,  ray  brethren,    Providence    so   ordered 


those  mangled,  interpolated,  copies  of  the  true  gospel 
of  St.  Matthew,  which  through  the  avidity  of  the  low- 
er sort  of  peoiilc  to  know  the  history  of  Jesus  Christ, 
had  been  transcribed,  and  debased,  and  was  handed 
about  the  world.  I  call  it  mangled;  because  some 
parts  of  the  true  gospel  were  omitted.  1  call  it  inter- 
polated ;  because  some  things  were  added  from  other 
gospels,  as  the  history  of  the  woman  caught  in  adul- 
tery, from  St.  John:  Euseb.  Eccl.  Hist.  lib.  iii.  cap. 
39.  and  oe/tcrs/j-ojn  report,  as  the  above  passage  re- 
lative to  James,  &c.  This  book  was  written  in  Sy- 
riac,  with  Hebrew  charactere.  St.  Jerome  translated 
it  into  Greek  and  Latin,  and  divers  of  the  fathers 
quote  it,  as  Hegesippus.  Euseb.  E.  II.  lib.  iv.  22.  Ig- 
natus  Ep.  ad  Smvrnenses,  Edit.  Usserii,  p.  112. 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  Stromat.  lib.  ii.  p.  278,  Edit. 
Lugrtuii,  16113.  Origen,  St.  Jerome,  &c.  It  went  by 
the  names  of  the  gospel  according  to  St.  Matthew,  the 
gospel  according  to  the  llcbreies,  the  gospel  of  the 
twelve  apostles,  the  gospel  of  the  JVazarenes.  See 
Luke  i.  1,2. 


502 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF 


[Ser.  XXI. 


those  circumstances  that  the  testimony  of 
the  apostles  might  be  unuspected.  Provi- 
dence continued  Jerusalem  forty  years  after 
the  resurrection  of  our  Lord,  that  all  the 
Jews  in  the  world  might  examine  the  evi- 
dence concerning  it,  and  obtain  authentic 
proof  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  I  repeat  it 
again,  then,  the  apostles  maintained  the  re- 
surrection of  Jesus  Christ  before  Jews,  before 
pawans,  before  philosophers,  before  Rabbles, 
before  courtiers,  before  lawyers,  before  people, 
expert  in  examining,  and  in  cross-examining, 
■witnesses,  in  order  to  lead  them  into  self- 
contradiction.  Had  the  apostles  borne  their 
testimony  in  consequence  of  a  preconcerted 
plot  between  themselves,  is  it  not  morally 
certain,  that,  as  they  were  examined  before 
such  different  and  capable  men,  some  one 
would  have  discovered  the  pretended  fraud  .'' 
G.  Consider  the  place,  in  which  the  apostles 
bore  their  testimony.  Had  they  published 
the  resurrection  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world 
in  distant  countries,  beyond  mountains  and 
seas,  it  might  have  been  supposed,  that  dis- 
tance of  place,  rendering  it  extremely  diffi- 
cult for  their  hearers  to  obtain  exact  informa- 
tion, had  facilitated  the  establishment  of  the 
error  !  But  the  apostles  preached  in  Jerusa- 
lem, in  the  synagogues,  in  the  pretorium  ; 
they  unfolded  and  displayed  the  banners  of 
their  Master's  cross,  and  set  up  tokens  of  his 
victory,  on  the  very  spot  on  which  the  infamous 
instrument  of  his  sufferings  had  been  set  up. 

7.  Observe  the  time  of  this  testimony.  Had 
the  apostles  first  published  this  resurrection 
several  years  after  the  epocha  which  they  as- 
signed for  it,  unbelief  might  have  availed  it- 
self ofthe  delay :  but  three  days  after  the  death 
of  Jesus  Christ,  they  said,  he  was  risen  again, 
and  they  re-echoed  their  testimony  in  a  sin- 
gular manner  at  Pentecost,  when  Jerusalem 
expected  the  spread  of  the  report,  and  endea- 
voured to  prevent  it ;  while  the  eyes  of 
their  enemies  were  yet  sparkling  with  rage 
and  madness,  and  while  Calvary  was  yet 
dyed  with  the  blood  they  had  spilt  there.  Do 
impostors  take  such  measures  ^  Would  not 
they  have  waited  till  the  fury  ofthe  Jews  had 
been  appeased,  till  judges  and  public  officers, 
had  been  changed,  and  till  people  had  been 
less  attentive  to  their  dispositions .'' 

8.  Consider,  lastly,  </«e  motives  uihich  indu- 
ced the  apostles  to  publish  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Survey  the  face  of  the  world, 
examine  all  the  impostures,  that  are  practised 
in  society  ;  falsehood,  imposition,  treachery, 
perjury,  abound  in  society.  To  every  differ- 
ent trade  and  profession  some  peculiar  de- 
ceptions belong.  However,  all  mankind  have 
one  design  in  deceiving,  they  all  deceive  for 
their  own  interest.  Their  interests  are  infi- 
nitely diversified  :  but  it  is  interest,  however, 
that  always  animates  all  deceivers.  There  is 
one  interest  of  pride,  another  of  pleasure,  a 
third  of  profit.  In  the  case  before  us,  the 
nature  of  things  is  subverted,  and  all  our  no- 
tions of  the  human  heart  contradicted.  It 
must  |be  presupposed,  that,  whereas  other 
men  generally  sacrifice  tlie  interest  of  their 
salvation  to  their  temporal  interest,  the  apos- 
tles, on  the  contrary,  sacrificed  their  tempo- 
ral interest  without  any  inducement  from  the 
interest  of  salvation  itself.      Suppose   they 


had  been  craftily  led,  during  the  life  of  Jesus 
Christ,  into  the  expectation  of  some  temporal 
advantages,  how  came  it  to  pass,  that,  after 
they  saw  their  hopes  blasted,  and  themselves 
threatened  with  the  most  rigorous  punish-  1 
ments,  tliey  did  not  redeem  their  lives  by  1 
confessing  the  imposture .''  In  general,  the 
more  wicked  a  traitor  is,  the  more  he  trem- 
bles, alters,  and  confesses,  at  the  approach  of 
death.  Having  betrayed,  for  his  own  inter- 
est, the  laws  of  his  country,  the  interests  of 
society,  the  confidence  of  his  prince,  and  the 
credit  of  religion,  he  betrays  the  companions 
of  his  imposture,  the  accomplices  of  his 
crimes.  Here,  on  the  contrary,  the  apostles 
persist  in  their  testimony  till  death,  and  sign 
the  truths  they  have  published  with  the  last 
drops  of  their  blood.  These  are  our  arguments. 

We  proceed  now  to  our  demonstrations, 
that  is,  to  the  miracles  with  which  the  apos- 
tles sealed  the  truth  of  their  testimony.  Ima- 
gine  these  venerable  men  addressing  their  .1 
adversaries  on  the  day  of  the  Christian  Pen-  ' 
tecost  in  this  language :  '  You  refuse  to  be- 
lieve us  on  our  depositions ;  five  hundred  of 
us,  you  think  are  enthusiasts,  all  infected 
with  the  same  malady,  who  have  carried  our 
absurdity  so  far  as  to  imagine  that  we  have 
seen  a  man  whom  we  have  not  seen  ;  eaten 
with  a  man  with  whom  we  have  not  eaten  ; 
conversed  with  a  man  with  whom  we  have 
not  conversed:  or,  perhaps,  you  think  us  im- 
postors, or  take  us  for  madmen,  who  intend  to 
suffer  ourselves  to  be  imprisoned,  and  tortu- 
red, and  crucified,  for  the  sake  of  enjoying  the 
pleasure  of  deceiving  mankind  by  prevailing 
upon  them  to  believe  a  fanciful  resurrection  : 
you  think  we  are  so  stupid  as  to  act  a  part  so 
extras -11! iint.  But  bring  out  your  sick  ;  pre- 
sent y  ui-  demoniacs  ;  fetch  hither  your  dead  ; 
confront  us  with  Medes,  Parthians,and  E!am- 
ites  ;  let  Cappadocia,  Pontus,  Asia,  Egypt, 
Phrygia,  Pamphylia,let  all  nations  and  people 
send  us  some  of  their  inhabitants,  we  will  re- 
store hearinglto  the  deaf,  and  sight  to  the  blind, 
we  will  make  the  lame  walk,  we  will  cast  out 
devils,  and  raise  the  dead.  We, we  publicans,  we 
illiterate  men,  we  tent-makers,  we  fishermen, 
we  will  discourse  with  all  the  people  of  the 
world  in  their  own  languages.  AVe  will  ex- 
plain prophecies,  elucidate  the  most  obscure 
predictions,  develope  the  most  sublime  myste- 
ries, teach  you  notions  of  God,  precepts  for 
the  conduct  of  life,  plans  of  morality  and  reli- 
gion, more  extensive,  more  sublime,  and 
more  advantageous,  than  those  of  your  priests 
and  philosophers,  yea,  than  those  of  Moses 
himself.  We  will  do  more  still.  We  will 
communicate  these  gifts  to  you,  "  the  word 
of  wisdom,  the  word  of  knowledge,  faith,  the 
gifts  of  healing,  the  working  of  miracles-,  pro- 
phecy, discerning  of  spirits,  divers  kinds  of 
tongues,  interpretation  of  tongues,"  1  Cor.  xii. 
8,  &c.  all  these  shall  be  communicated  to 
you  by  our  ministry.' 

All  these  things  the  apostles  professed  ;  all 
these  proofs  they  gave  of  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus  Christ ;  '  this  Jesus  hath  God  raised 
up ;  and  he  hath  shed  forth  this  which  ye 
now  see  and  hear.'  Acts  ii.  32,  33.  This 
consideration  furnishes  us  with  an  answer  to 
the  greatest  objection  that  was  ever  made  to 
the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ,  and,  in  ge- 


Ser.  XXI.] 


JESUS  CHRIST. 


203 


neral,  to  his  whole  economy.  '  How  is  it,' 
say  unbelievers  sometimes,  '  that  your  Jesus 
exposed  all  the  circumstances  of  his  abase- 
ment to  the  public  eye,  and  concealed  those 
of  his  elevation  ?  If  he  were  transfigured  on 
the  mount,  it  was  only  before  Peter,  James, 
and  John,  If  he  ascended  to  heaven,  none 
but  his  disciples  saw  his  ascent.  If  he  i;'Ose 
again  from  the  dead,  and  appeared,  he  ap- 
peared only  to  those  who  were  interested  in 
his  fame.  Why  did  he  not  show  himself  to 
the  synagogue  ?  Why  did  he  not  appear  to 
Pilate  .'  Why  did  he  not  show  himself  alive  in 
the  streets,  and  public  assemblies  of  Jerusa- 
lem ?  Had  he  done  so,  infidelity  would  have 
been  eradicated,  and  every  one  would  have 
believed  his  own  eyes  :  but  the  secrecy  of  all 
these  events  exposes  them  to  very  just  suspi- 
cions, and  gives  plausible  pretexts  to  errors, 
if  errors  they  be.'  We  omit  many  solid  an- 
swers to  this  objection ;  perhaps  we  may 
urge  them  on  future  occasions,  and  at  present 
we  content  ourselves  with  observing,  that  the 
apostles,  who  attested  the  resurrection  of  Je- 
sus Christ,  wrought  miracles  in  the  presence 
of  all  those,  before  whom,  you  say,  Jesus 
Christ  ought  to  have  produced  himself  after 
his  resurrection.  The  apostles  wrought  mi- 
racles ;  behold  Jesus  Christ !  see  his  Spirit ! 
behold  his  resurrection  !  '  God  hath  raised  up 
Jesus  Christ,  and  he  hath  shed  forth  what  ye 
now  see  and  hear.'  This  way  of  proving  the 
resurrection  of  Christ  was  as  convincing  as 
the  showing  of  himself  to  each  of  his  ene- 
mies would  have  been ;  as  the  exposure  of 
his  wounds  before  them,  or  the  permitting  of 
them  to  thrust  their  hands  into  his  side, 
would  have  been.  Yea,  this  was  a  more  con- 
vincing way  than  that  would  have  been  for 
which  you  plead.  Had  Jesus  Christ  shown 
himself,  they  might  have  thought  him  a 
phantom,  or  a  counterfeit;  they  might  have 
supposed  that  a  resemblance  of  features  had 
occasioned  an  illusion :  but  what  could  an 
unbeliever  oppose  against  the  healing  of  the 
sick,  the  raising  of  the  dead,  the  expulsion  of 
devils,  the  alteration  and  subversion  of  all 
nature  ? 

It  may  be  said,  perhaps  all  these  proofs,  if 
indeed  they  ever  existed,  were  conclusive  to 
them,  who,  it  is  pretended,  saw  the  miracles 
of  the  apostles  ;  but  they  can  have  no  weight 
with  us,  who  live  seventeen  centuries  after 
them.  We  reply,  The  miracles  of  the  apos- 
tles cannot  be  doubted  without  giving  in  to  a 
universal  skepticism ;  without  establishing 
this  unwarrantable  princijile,  that  we  ought 
to  believe  nothing  but  what  we  see  ;  and 
without  taxing  three  sorts  of  people,  equally 
unsuspected,  with  extravagance  on  this  occa- 
sion. 

1.  They,  who  call  themselves  the  operators 
of  these  miracles,  would  be  chargeable  with 
extravagance.  If  they  wrought  none,  they 
were  impostors  who  endeavoured  to  deceive 
mankind.  If  they  were  impostors  of  the 
least  degrne  of  common  sense,  they  would 
have  used  some  precautions  to  conceal  their 
imposture.  But  see  how  they  relate  the 
facts,  of  the  truth  of  which  we  pretend  to 
doubt.  They  specify  times,  places  and  cir- 
cumstances. They  say,  such  and  such  facts 
passed  in  such  cities,  such  public  places,  such 


assemblies,  in  sight  of  such  and  such  people. 
Thus  St.  Paul  writes  to  the  Corinthians.  He 
directs  to  a  society  of  Christians  in  the  city 
ofCorinth.  He  tells  them,  that  they  had 
received  miraculous  gifts,  and  censures  them 
for  making  a  parade  of  them.  He  reproves 
them  for  striving  to  display,  each  his  own 
gifts  in  their  public  assemblies.  He  gives 
them  some  rules  for  the  regulation  of  their 
conduct  in  this  case  :  '  If  any  man  speak  in 
an  unknown  tongue,  let  it  be  by  two,  or  at 
the  most  by  three,  and  that  by  course,  and  let 
one  interpret.  If  there  be  no  interpreter,  let 
him  keep  silence  in  the  church.  Let  the 
prophets  speak,  two,  or  three.  If  any  thing 
be  revealed  to  another  that  sitteth  by,  let  the 
first  hold  his  peace,'  1  Cor.  xiv.  27,28,  &c.  I 
ask,  with  what  face  could  St.  Paul  have  writ- 
ten in  this  manner  to  the  Corinthians,  if  all 
these  facts  had  been  false  .''  If  the  Corinthians 
had  received  neither  '  the  gifts  of  prophecy, 
nor  the  discerning  of  spirits,  nor  divers  kinds 
of  tongues  .-"  What  a  front  had  he  who  wrote 
in  this  manner ! 

2.  The  enemies  of  Christianity  must  be 
taxed  with  extravagance.  Since  Christians 
gloried  in  the  shining  miracles  that  their 
preachers  wrought ;  and  since  their  preachers 
gloried  in  performing  them  before  whole  as- 
semblies, it  would  have  been  very  easy  to 
discover  their  imposture,  had  they  been  im- 
postors. Suppose  a  modern  impostor  preach- 
ing a  new  religion  and  pretending  to  the 
glory  of  confirming  it  by  notable  miracles 
wrought  in  this  place  :  What  method  should 
we  take  to  refute  him  .''  Should  we  affirm  that 
miracles  do  not  prove  the  truth  of  a  doctrine  .-• 
Should  we  have  recourse  to  miracles  wrought 
by  others  ?  Should  we  not  exclaim  against  the 
fraud .''  Should  we  not  appeal  to  our  own 
eyes .''  Should  we  want  any  thing  more  than 
the  dissembler's  own  professions  to  convict 
him  of  imposture  ?  Why  did  not  the  avowed 
enemies  of  Christianity,  who  endeavoured  by 
their  publications  to  refute  it,  take  these 
methods  .'  How  was  it,  that  Celsus,  Porphyry, 
Zosimus,  Julian  the  apostate,  and  Hierocles, 
the  greatest  antagonist  that  Christianity  ever 
had,  and  whose  writings  are  in  our  hands, 
never  denied  the  facts  ;  but,  allowing  the 
principle,  turned  all  the  points  of  their  argu- 
ments against  the  consequences  that  Chris 
tians  inferred  from  them  ?  By  supposing  the 
falsehood  of  the  miracles  of  the  apostles,  do 
we  not  tax  the  enemies  of  Christianity  with 
absurdity  .'' 

In  fine.  This  supposition  charges  the  whole 
mtiltitude  of  Christians,  who  embraced  the 
gospel,  with  extravagance.  The  examination 
of  the  truth  of  religion,  now  depends  on  a 
chain  of  principles  and  consequences  which  re- 
quire a  profound  attention  ;  and  therefore,  the 
number  of  those  who  profess  such  or  such  a  re- 
ligion, cannot  demonstrate  the  truth  of  their 
religion.  But  in  the  days  of  the  apostles  the 
whole  depended  on  a  few  plain  facts.  Has 
Jesus  Christ  communicated  his  Spirit  to  his 
apostles  ?  Do  the  apostles  work  miracles  ? 
Have  they  the  power  of  imparting  miraculous 
gifts  to  those  who  embrace  their  doctrine  .' 
And  yet  this  religion,  the  discussion  of 
which  was  so  plain  and  easy,  spread  itself  far 
and  wide.     If  the  apostles  did  not  work  mira- 


204 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF 


[Seb.  XXI. 


eles,  one  of  these  two  euppositions  must  be 
made  ; — either  these  proselytes  did  not  deign 
to  open  their  eyes,  but  sacrificed  their  preju- 
dices, passions,  educations,  ease,  fortunes, 
lives  and  consciences,  witliout  condescending- 
to  spend  one  moment  on  the  examination  of 
this  question,  Do  the  apostles  work  miracles  ? 
or  that,  on  supposition  they  did  open  their 
eyes,  and  did  find  the  falsehood  of  these  pre- 
tended miracles,  they  yet  sacrificed  their 
prejudices,  and  their  passions,  their  educa- 
tions, their  ease,  <and  their  honour,  their  pro- 
perties, their  consciences,  and  their  lives,  to 
a  religion,  which  wholly  turned  on  this  false 
principle,  that  its  miracles  were  true. 

Collect  all  these  proofs  together,  my  bre- 
thren, consider  them  in  one  point  of  view, 
and  see  how  many  extravagant  suppositions 
must  be  advanced,  if  the  resurrection  of  our 
Saviour  be  denied.     It  must  be  supposed  that 

fuards,  who  had  been  particularly  cautioned 
y  their  officers,  sat  down  to  sleep,  and  that 
however  they  deserved  credit,  when  they 
Baid  the  body  of  Jesus  Christ  was  stolen  ;  it 
must  be  supposed  that  men  who  had  been 
imposed  on  in  the  most  odious  and  cruel  man- 
nerinthe  world,  hazarded  their  dearest  en- 
joyments for  the  glory  of  an  impostor.  It 
must  be  supposed  that  ignorant  and  illiterate 
men,  who  had  neither  reputation,  fortune 
nor  eloquence,  possessed  the  art  of  fascinating 
the  eyes  of  all  the  church.  It  must  be  sup- 
posed, either  that  five  hundred  persons  were 
all  deprived  of  their  senses  at  a  time  ;  or 
that  they  were  all  deceived  in  the  plainest 
matters  of  fact ;  or  that  this  multitude  of 
false  witnesses  had  found  out  the  secret  of 
never  contradicting  themselves,  or  one  ano- 
ther, and  of  being  always  uniform  in  their 
testimony.  It  must  be  supposed,  tliat  the 
most  expert  courts  of  judicature  could  not 
find  out  a  shadow  of  contradiction  in  a  palpa- 
ble imposture.  It  must  be  supposed,  that  the 
apostles,  sensible  men  in  other  cases,  chose 
precisely  those  places,  and  those  times,  which 
were  the  most  unfavourable  to  their  views. 
It  must  be  supposed  that  millions  madly  suf- 
fered imprisonments,  tortures,  and  crucifix- 
ions, to  spread  an  illusion.  It  must  be  sup- 
posed, that  ten  thousand  miracles  were 
wrought  in  favour  of  falsehood  :  or  all  these 
facts  must  be  denied,  and  then  it  must  be 
supposed,  that  the  apostles  were  idiots,  that 
the  enemies  of  Christianity  were  idiots,  and 
that  all  tlie  primitive  Christians  were  idiots. 
The  arguments,  that  persuade  us  of  the 
truth  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ,  are  so 
clear  and  so  conclusive,  that,  if  any  difficulty 
remains  it  arises  from  the  brightness  of  the 
evidence  itself.  Yes,  I  declare,  if  any  thing  has 
shaken  my  confidence  in  it,  it  has  arisen  from 
this  consideration.  I  could  not  conceive  how 
a  truth,  attested  by  so  many  irreproachable 
witnesses,  and  confirmed  by  so  many  notori- 
ous miracles,  should  not  make  more  prose- 
lytes, how  it  could  possibly  be  that  all  the 
Jews,  and  all  the  heathens,  did  not  yield  to 
this  evidence.  But  this  difficulty  ought  not 
to  weaken  our  faith.  In  the  folly  of  mankind 
its  solution  lies.  Men  are  capable  of  any 
thing  to  gratify  their  passions,  and  to  defend 
their  prejudices.  The  unbelief  of  the  Jews 
and  heathens  is  not  more  wonderful  than  a 


hundred  other  phenomena,  which,  were  we 
not  to  behold  them  every  day,  would  equally 
alarm  us.  It  is  not  more  surprising  than  th© 
superstitious  veneration  in  which,  for  many 
ages,  the  Christian  world  held  that  dark,  con- 
fused, pagan  genius,  Aristotle  ;  a  veneration, 
which  was  carried  so  far,  that  when  metaphy- 
sical questions  were  disputed  in  the  schools, 
questions,  on  which  every  one  ought  always 
to  have  liberty  to  speak  his  opinion ;  when 
they  were  examining  whether  there  were  a 
void  in  nature,  whether  nature  abhorred  a 
vacuum,  whether  matter  were  divisible,  whe- 
ther they  were  atoms,  properly  so  called  ; 
when  it  could  be  proved,  in  disputes  of  this 
kind,  that  Aristotle  was  of  such  or  such  an 
opinion,  his  infallibility  was  allowed,  and  the 
dispute  was  at  an  end.  The  unbelief  of  the 
ancients  is  not  more  surprising  than  the  cre- 
dulity of  the  moderns.  We  see  kings,  and 
princes,  and  a  great  part  of  Christendom, 
submit  to  a  pope,  yea,  to  an  inferior  priest, 
often  to  one  who  is  void  of  both  sense  and 
grace.  It  is  not  more  astonishing  than  the 
implicit  faith  of  Christians,  who  believe,  in  an 
enlightened  age,  in  the  days  of  Des  Cartes, 
Paschal,  and  Malbranche  :  what  am  I  saying  .'' 
Des  Cartes,  Paschal,  and  Malbranche  them- 
selves believe,  that  a  piece  of  bread  which 
they  reduce  to  a  pulp  with  their  teeth,  which 
they  taste,  swallow,  and  digest,  is  the  body  of 
their  Redeemer.  The  ancient  unbelief  is  not 
more  wonderful  than  yours,  protestants  !  You 
profess  to  believe  there  is  a  judgment,  and  a 
hell,  and  to  know  that  misers,  adulterers,  and 
drunkards,  must  suffer  everlasting  punish- 
ments there  ;  and,  although  you  cannot  be 
ignorant  of  your  being  in  this  fatal  list,  yet 
you  are  as  easy  about  futurity,  as  if  you  had 
read  your  names  in  the  book  of  life,  and  had 
no  reason  to  entertain  the  least  doubt  of 
your  salvation. 

II.  We  have  urged  the  arguments,  that 
prove  the  resurrection  of  Christ :  I  shall  de- 
tain you  only  a  little  longer  in  justifying  the 
jo3'ful  acclamations  which  it  produced.  '  The 
voice  of  rejoicing  and  salvation  is  in  the  tab- 
ernacles of  the  righteous  :  the  right  hand  of 
the  Lord  doth  valiantly.  The  right  hand  of 
the  Lord  is  exalted :  the  right  hand  of  the 
Lord  doth  valiantly.' 

The  three  melancholy  days  that  passed  be- 
tween the  death  of  Jesus  Christ  and  his  re- 
surrection, were  days  of  triumph  for  the  ene- 
mies of  the  church.  Jesus  Christ  rises 
again ;  and  the  church  triumphs  in  its  turn  : 
'  The  voice  of  rejoicing  and  salvation  is  in  the 
tabernacles  of  the  righteous.  The  right 
hand  of  the  Lord  is  exalted  :  the  right  hand 
of  the  Lord  doth  valiantly.' 

1.  In  those  melancholy  da3'^s,  heresy  tri- 
1/mphcd  over  truth.  The  greatest  objection, 
that  was  made  against  the  satisfaction  of  Je- 
sus Christ,  was  taken  from  his  innocence, 
which  is  the  foundation  of  it.  For  if  Jesus 
Christ  were  innocent,  where  was  divine  jus- 
tice, when  he  was  overwhelmed  with  suffer- 
ings, and  put  to  death.'  Where  was  it,  when 
he  was  exposed  to  the  unbridled  rage  of  the 
populace .''  This  difficulty  seems  at  first  in- 
dissoluble. Yea,  rather  let  all  the  guilty 
perish  ;  rather  let  all  the  posterity  of  Adam 
be  plunged  into  hell ;   rather  let  divine  jus- 


Ser.  XXI.] 


JESUS  CHRIST. 


205 


tico  destroy  every  creature  that  divine  good- 
ness has  made,  than  leave  so  many  virtues, 
80  much  benevolence,  and  so  much  fervour, 
humility  so  profound,  and  zeal  so  great,  with- 
out indemnity  and  reward.  But  when  we 
Bee  that  Jesus  Christ,  by  suffering  death,  dis- 
armed it,  by  lying  on  the  tomb  took  away  its 
Bting,  by  his  crucifixion  asCended  to  a  throne, 
the  diriiculty  is  diminished,  yea  it  vanishes 
away  :  '  The  voice  of  rejoicing  and  salvation 
is  in  the  tabernacles  of  the  righteous.  The 
right  hand  of  the  Lord  is  exalted  :  the  right 
hand  of  the  Lord  doth  valiantly.'  God  and 
man  are  reconciled  ;  divine  justice  is  satisfied ; 
henceforth  we  may  go  '  boldly  to  the  throne 
of  grace.  There  is  now  no  condemnation  to 
them  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus.  Who  shall 
Jay  any  thing  to  the  charge  of  God's  elect.'' 
Who  is  he  that  condemneth  ?  It  is  Christ 
that  died,  yea,  rather  that  is  risen  again,' 
Heb.  iv.  16. 

2.  In  those  mournful  days  ivfdclity  tri- 
umphed over  faith.  At  the  sight  of  a  deceas- 
ed Jesus  the  infidel  displayed  his  system  by 
insulting  him,  who  sacrificed  his  passions  to 
his  duty,  and  by  saying.  See,  see  that  pale, 
motionless  carcass :  '  Bless  God  and  die  !* 
All  events  come  alike  to  all  :  there  is  one 
event  to  the  righteous  and  to  the  wicked  ;  to 
the  clean  and  to  the  unclean  ;  to  him  that 
sacrificeth  and  to  him  that  sacrificeth  not ;  as 
is  the  good,  so  is  the  sinner,  and  he  that 
Bweareth,  as  he  that  feareth  an  oath,'  Eccl. 
ix.  2.  Jesus  Christ  rises  from  the  dead : 
'  The  voice  of  rejoicing  and  salvation  is  in  the 
tabernacles  of  the  righteous.'  The  system 
of  the  infidel  sinks :  '  he  errs,  not  knowing 
the  Scriptures,  nor  the  power  of  God,'  Matt, 
xxii.  29. 

In  those  dismal  days,  tyranny  triumphed 
over  the  perseverance  of  martyrs.    Innocence 


*  So  the  French  Bibles  render  the  words,  BLESS 
Gotland  die!  our  translation  has  it,  CURSE  God  and 
die.  Job,  who  best  knew  his  wife,  calls  this  afoolish 
eaying;  that  is,  a  saying  void  of  humanitii  a.i\d  reli- 

fion:  for  so  the  word  foolish  signifies  in'Scripture. 
t  was  a  cruel,  popular  sarcasm,  frequently  cast  by 
skeptics  on  those  who  persisted  in  the  beliefof  a  God, 
a«d  of  the  perfection  and  excellence  of  his  provi- 
dence, even  wliile  he  suffered  them  to  sink  under  the 
most  terrible  calamities,  *  Your  God  is  the  God  of  uni- 
versal nature  !  He  regards  the  actions  of  men  !  He 
rewards  virtue  J  He  punishes  vice  !  On  these  erro- 
neous principles  your  adoration  of  him  has  been  built. 
This  was  a  pardonable  folly  in  the  time  of  your  pros- 

ferjty  :  but  what  an  absurdity  to  persist  in  it  now  ! 
f  3'.our  present  sufferings  do  not  undeceive  you,  no 
future  means  can.  Your  mind  is  past  information. 
Persevere  !   Oo  on  in  your  adoration  till  you  die. 

It  may  seem  strange,  at  first,  that  the  same  term 
should  stand  for  two  such  opposite  ideas  as  blessinrr 
and  cnrsing:  but  a  very  plain  and  natural  reason  may 
be  assigned  for  it.  The  Hebrew  word  originally  sig- 
nified to  ble.'^s,  benediccre  .-  and,  when  applied  to  God, 
it  meant  to  bless,  that  is,  to pj-aise  God  hy  worshipping 
him.  The  Talmudists  say,  that  the  religious  honours 
which  were  paid  to  God,  were  of  four  sorts.  The 
prostration  of  the  whole  body,  was  one:  The  bowing 
of  the  head,  another:  The  bending  of  the  upper  part 
of  the  body  towards  the  knees,  a  third:  and  genufiex- 
ion,  the  fourth.  Megillae  fol.  22.  2.  apud  Bu.ttorf.  Le.x. 
In  these  ways  was  God  praised,  worshipped,  or  blessed, 
and  the  Hebrew  word  for  blessing  was  naturally  put 
for  genuflexion,  the.  ezpression  of  blessing,  or  praising; 
thus  it  18  rendered  Psalm  xcv.  6.  let  us  kneel  before 
the  Lord :  2  Chron.  vi.  13.  Solomon  kneeled  down 
upon  his  knees.  The  bending  of  the  knee  being  a 
ustiat  token  o/rMpeet  which  people  paid  to  oneanother 
when  they  met,  the  word  was  transferred  to  this  also, 
aad  ig  properly  rendered  salute,  2  King?  iv.  29.  If 
Uiou  me«t  any  m»n,snlut«  him  not.  The  same  token 
2  D 


was  oppressed,  and  the  rewarda  of  virtue 
seemed  to  be  buried  in  the  tomb  of  him,  who, 
above  all  others,  had  devoted  himself  to  it. 
Jesus  Christ  rises  again  :  '  the  voice  of  re- 
joicing and  salvation  is  in  the  tabernacles  of 
the  righteous.'  The  designs  of  the  enemies 
of  innocence  are  all  frustrated,  and  their  at- 
tempts to  disgrace  purity  serve  only  to  exalt 
its  glory,  and  to  perpetuate  its  memory.  Let 
the  tyrants  of  the  church,  then,  rage  against 
us  ;  let '  the  gates  of  hell,'  Matt.  xvi.  18,  con- 
sult to  destroy  us ;  let  the  kings  'of  tho 
earth,'  more  furious  often  than  hell  itself, 
'  set  themselves  against  the  Lord,  and  against 
his  anointed,'  Ps.  ii.  2  ;  let  them  set  up  gib- 
bets, let  them  equip  galleys,  let  them  kindle 
fires  to  burn  us,  and  prepare  racks  to  torture 
us  ;  they  themselves,  and  all  their  cruel  in- 
ventions, shall  serve  the  purposes  of  the  Al- 
mighty God.  The  Assyrian  is  only  '  the  rod 
of  his  anger,'  Isa.  x.  5.  Herod  and  Pilate  do 
only  '  v/hat  his  hand  and  his  counsel  deter- 
mined before  to  be  done,'  Acts  iv.  28.  God 
knows  how  to  restrain  their  fury,  and  to  say 
to  them,  as  he  says  to  the  ocean,  'Hitherto 
shalt  thou  come,  but  no  farther;  and  here 
shall  thy  proud  waves  be  stayed, 'Job.  xxxviii.  2. 
4.  Finally,  in  those  fatal  days,  death  tri- 
umphed over  all  human  hope  of  immortal 
glory.  The  destiny  of  all  believers  is  united 
to  that  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  had  said  to  his 
disciples,  '  Because  I  hve,  ye  shall  live  also,' 
John  xiv.  19.  In  like  manner,  on  the  sama 
principle,  we  may  say.  If  he  be  dead,  we  are 
dead  also.  And  how  could  we  have  hope  to 
live,  if  he,  who  is  our  life,  had  not  freed  hini' 
self  from  the  state  of  the  dead  ?  Jesus  Christ 
rises  from  the  dead :  '  The  voice  of  rejoicing  ig 
in  the  tabernacles  of  the  righteous.'  Nature 
is  reinstated  in  its  primeval  dignity  ;  '  death 
is  swallowed   up  in  victory,'  1°  Cor.  xv.  64; 


of  respect  being  paid  at  parting,  the  word  was  also  ap- 
plied to  that:  They  blessed  Kebekah,  that  is,  they 
bade  her  farewell,  accompanying  their  good  wishes 
with  gemtfiexion.  From  this  known  meaning  of  the 
word  it  was  applied  to  a  bending  of  tlie  knee  whera 
no  blessing  could  be  intended  ;he  made  his  camels  kneel 
down.  Gen.  xxiv.  11.  It  was  put  sometimes  for  the 
respect  that  was  paid  to  a  magistrate,  Gen.  xli.  43, 
and  sometunes  for  the  respect  which  idolaters  paid  to 
false  gods.  But  to  bow  the  knee  to  an  idol  was  to 
deny  the  existence  of  God,  to  renounce  his  icorship,  or, 
in  the  Scripture  style, to  curse  God,  to  blasphemcGod, 
&c.  ///  beheld  the  sun  or  the  moon,  and  my  mouth, 
haskissed  my  hand  .-  I  should  have  dented  the  God  that 
is  above.  Job  xxxi.  26—28.  Only  the  scope  of  the 
place,  therefore,  can  determine  the  precise  meaning 
of  the  word.  The  word  must  be  rendered  curse,  deny 
God,  or  renounce  his  worship,  Job  i.  5.  11.  and  it  must 
be  rendered  bless,  acknowledge,  or  worship  him  in 
ver.  21.  The  Septuagint,  after  a  long  sarcastic  para- 
phrase, supposed  to  have  been  spoken  by  Job's  wife, 
renders  the  phrase  n^ovrt  p:iiusi  7rpo(  x-upiov,  nctm^iura.. 
To  bring  our  meaning  into  a  narrow  compass.  If  an 
ancient  Jew  had  seen  a  dumb  man  bend  his  knee  in 
the  tabernacle,  or  in  the  temple,  he  would  have  said 
p3  nin''  he  blessed  the  Lord.  Had  he  seen  him 
bend  his  knee  rt  court,  in  the  presence  of  Solomon,  he 
would  have  said  pD  "jl^  he  blessed,  that  is,  he  sa- 
luted the  king.  And  had  he  seen  him  bend  his  knea 
in  a  house  of  Baal,  or  in  an  idolatrous  grove,  ho 
would  have  said,  VN  '\'^2  he  blessed  an  idol ;  or,  as 
the  embracing  of  idolatry  was  the  renouncing  of  the 
worship  of  the  true  God,  he  would  have  expressed  th» 
same  action  hy  71171''  IID  he  cursed  JEHOVAH 
We  have  ventured  this 'conjecture,  to  prevent  any 
prejudices  against  the  English  Bible  that  may  arise 
from  the  seeminjly  uncertain  mcanhnj  of  sotiie  He- 
brew words. 


206 


THE  RESURRECTION  OT  JESUS  CHRIST. 


[Ser.  XXI. 


the  grare  is  di.sarmcd  of  its  sting.  Let  my 
eyesight  decay  ;  let  my  body  bow  under  tlie 
weiglit  of  old  age  ;  let  the  organs  of  my  body 
cease  to  perform  their  wonted  operations  ; 
let  all  my  senses  fail;  death  sweep  away  the 
dear  relatives  of  my  bosom,  and  \i\j  frirnd:-, 
'wlio  are  as  mine  own  soul,'  Dent.  xiii.  G; 
lot  these  eyes  all,  gushing  with  tears,  atten- 
ded with  sobs,  and  sorrows,  and  groans,  be- 
hold her  expire,  who  was  my  company  in  so- 
litude, my  counsel  in  diiTiculty,  my  comfort 
in  disgrace  ;  let  me  follow  to  the  grave  the 
bones,  the  carcass,  the  precious  remains  of 
this  dear  part  of  m3'sclf;  my  converse  is  sus- 

fiendod,  but  is  not  destroyed  :  '  Lazarus,  my 
riend,  sleepeth,  but  if  I  believe,  I  shall  see 
the  fflory  of  God.'  Jesus  Christ  is  '  the  re- 
surrection and  the  life,'  John  xi.  2.  40.  2.5. 
He  is  risen  from  the  dead,  we,  therefore,  shall 
one  day  rise.  Jesus  Christ  is  not  a  private 
person,  he  is  a  public  representative,  he  is 
the  surety  of  the  church,  '  the  first  fruits  of 
them  that  sleep.  If  the  Spirit  of  him,  that 
raised  up  Jesus  from  the  dead,  dwell  in  you  ; 
lie  that  raised  up  Clirist  from  the  dead  shall 
also  quicken  your  mortal  bodies,  by  his  Spirit 
that  dwelleth  in  you,'  1  Cor.  xv.  20;  Rom. 
viii.2. 

Was  ever  joy  more  rational .'  Was  triumph 
ever  more  glorious  f  Tlic  triumjjhant  entries 
of  conquerors,  the  songs  that  rend  the  air  in 
praise  of  their  victories,  the  pyramids  on 
which  their  exploits  are  transmitted  to  pos- 
terity, when  they  have  subdued  a  general, 
routed  an  army,  humbled  the  pride,  and  re- 
pressed the  rage  of  a  foe  ;  ought  not  all  tliesc 
to  yield  to  the  joys  that  are  occasioned  by  the 
event  which  v.e  celebrate  do-day  ?  Ought  not 
all  these  to  yield  to  the  victories  of  our  in- 
comparable Lord,  and  to  his  people's  expres- 
sions of  praise  ?  One  part  of  the  gratitude, 
which  is  due  to  beneficial  events,  is  to  know 
their  value,  and  to  be  aftecled  with  the  bene- 
fits which  they  procure.  Let  us  celebrate 
the  praise  of  the  Author  of  our  redemption, 
my  brethren ;  let  us  call  heaven  and  earth 
to  witness  our  gratitude.  Let  an  increase  of 
leal  accompany  this  part  of  our  engagements. 
Let  a  double  portion  of  fire  from  heaven  kin- 
dle our  sacrifice;  and  with  alier.rt  penetrated 
with  the  liveliest  gratitude,  and  with  the 
most  ardent  love,  let  each  Christian  exclaim, 
*  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of  my  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  who,  according  to  his  abundant 
mercy,  hath  begotten  me  again  to  a  lively 
hope,  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Chri.st 
from  the  dead,'  1  Pet.  i.  3.  Let  him  join  his 
voice  to  that  of  angels,  and,  in  concert  witii 
the  celestial  intelligences,  let  him  sing, '  Hoi}', 
holy,  holy  is  the  Lord  of  hosts  ;  the  whole 
earth  is  full  of  his  glory,'  Isa.  vi.  3.  Let  '  the 
tabernacles  of  the  righteous'  resound  with 
the  text,  'the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  doth 
valiantly:  the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  doth 
valiantly.' 

But  what  melancholy  thoughts  arc  these, 
which  interrupt  the  pleasures  of  this  day  ? 
Whose  tnhcrnades  are  these  .''  The  taberna- 
cles of  the  righteous  ?  Ah  !  my  brethren  ! 
wo  be  to  you,  if,  under  pretence  that  the 
righteous  ought  to  rcjoico  to-day,  you  re- 
joice by  adding  sin  to  sin  !  The  resurrection 
of  the  Saviour   of  tho    world  perfectly  as- 


sorts with  the  other  parts  of  his  economy. 
It  is  a  spring  flowing  with  motives  to  holi- 
ness. God  has  left  nothing  undone  in  tho 
work  of  your  salvation.  The  great  work  is 
finished.  Jesus  Christ  completed  it,  when 
he  rose  from  the  tomb.  The  Son  has  paid 
the  ransom.  The  Father  has  accepted  it. 
The  Holy  Spirit  has  published  it,  and,  by 
innumerable  prodigies,  has  confirmed  it. 
None  but  yourselves  can  condemn  you. 
Nothing  can  deprive  you  of  this  grace,  but 
your  own  contempt  of  it. 

But  tlic  more  precious  this  grace  is,  the 
more  criminal,  and  the  more  aflTronting  to 
God,  will  your  contempt  of  it  be.  The  more 
joy,  with  whicli  the  glory  of  a  risen  Jesus 
ought  to  inspire  you,  if  you  believe  in  him, 
the  more  terror  ought  you  to  feel,  if  you  at- 
tempt to  disobey  him.  He,  who  '  declared 
him  the  Son  of  God  with  power  by  the  re- 
surrection from  the  dead,'  put  '  a  sceptre 
of  iron'  into  his  hand,  that  he  might  break 
his  enemies,  and  '  dash  them  in  pieces  like  a 
potter's  vessel,'  Rom.  i.  4";  Ps.  ii.  9.  Dost 
thou  enter  into  these  reflections.'  Dost  thou 
approach  the  table  of  Jesus  Christ  with  de- 
terminations to  live  a  new  life .'  I  believe  so. 
But  the  grand  fault  of  our  communions,  and 
solemn  festivals,  does  not  lie  in  the  precise 
time  of  our  communions  and  solemnities. 
The  representation  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the 
Lord's  supper  ;  certain  reflections,  that  move 
conscience ;  an  extraordinary  attention  to 
the  noblest  objects  in  religion  ;  the  Solemni- 
ties that  belong  to  our  public  festivals  ;  in- 
spire us  with  a  kind  of  devotion  :  but  how 
often  docs  this  devotion  vanish  with  the  ob- 
jects that  produced  it  .■"  These  august  symbols 
should  follov/  thee  into  th}"-  warfare  in  the 
woild.  A  voice  should  sound  in  thine  ears 
amidst  the  tumult  of  the  world  ;  amidst  tho 
dissipating  scenes  that  besiege  thy  mind ; 
amidst  the  pleasures  that  fascinate  thine  eyes , 
amidst  the  grandeur  and  glory  which  thou 
causest  to  blaze  around  thee,  and  with  which 
thou  thyself,  allhongh,  alas  !  always  mortal, 
always  a  worm  of  the  earth,  always  dust  and 
ashes,  art  the  first  to  be  dazzled  ;  a  v^e 
should  sound  in  thine  ears.  Remember  Tny 
vows,  Remember  thine  oaths.  Remember  thy 

joys. 

My  brethren,  if  )'ou  be  not  to-morrow,  and 
till  the  next  Lord's-snpper-day,  what  you  are 
to-day,  we  recall  all  the  congratulations,  all 
tlie  benedictions,  and  all  the  declarations  of 
joy,  which  we  have  addressed  to  a^ou.  Instead 
of  congratulating  you  on  your  happiness  in 
being  permitted  to  approach  God  in  your  de- 
votions, we  will  deplore  your  wickedness  in 
adding  perfidy  and  perjury  to  all  your  other 
crimes.  Instead  of  benedictions  and  vows, 
we  will  cry,  '  Anathema  Maranatha  ;  if  any 
man  love  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him 
be  Anathema,'  1  Cor.  xvi.  22.  If  any  man 
who  has  kissed  the  Saviour  betray  him,  let 
him  be  Anathema.  If  any  man  defile  the 
mysteries  of  our  holy  religion,  let  him  bo 
Anathema.  If  any  man  '  tread  under  foot 
the  Son  of  God,  and  count  the  blood  of  the 
covenant  an  unholy  thing,  let  him  be  Ana- 
thema,' Hcb.  x.  29.  Insteadof  inviting  thee 
to  celebrate  the  praise  of  the  Author  of  our 
being,  we  forbid  thee   the   practice,  for  it  is 


Ser.  XXII.] 


THE  EFFUSION  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT. 


207 


'  comely  only  for  the  upright,'  Ps.   xxxiii.  1. 1 
God,  by  our   ministr}^,  saith   to  thee,  '  Thou 
wicked  man  !    Wliat  hast  thou  to  do  to  take 
rny  covenant  in  thy  mouth?'  Ps.  1. 16.     Why 
does   that   mouth  now  bless  my  name,  and  | 
then    blaspheme  it :     now    praise    nae,    thy  I 
Creator,    and    then   defame    my  creatures : 
nov«'  publish  my  gospel,  and  then  profane  it .'  { 
If,  on  the  contrary,  you  live  agreeably  to  j 
tho  engagements  into  which  you  have  enter- 1 
ed   to-day  ;    what   a   day,  wliat  a   day,  my 
brethren,   is  this  day  !    A  day,  in  v/hich  you 
liave    performed  the   great   v/ork  for  which 
God  formed  you,  and    which    is  all  that  de- 
serves the  attention  of  an  immortal  soul.     A 
day  in  which  many  impurities,  many  calum- 
nies, many  passionate  actions,  many  perjuries, 
and  many  oatlis,  have  been  buried  in  ever- 
lasting silence.     It    is  a   day  in    which   you 
have  been  washed  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  ; 
in  which   you  have  entered  into   fellowship 
with  God ;    in   which  you  have  heard  these 
triumphant  shouts   in   the    church,    '  Grace, 
grace  unto  it,'  Zech.  iv.  7.     A  day  in  which 
you  have  been  '  raised  up  together,  and  made 
to  sit  together  in  heavenly  places   in  Christ 
Jesus,'  Epli.  Ji.  6.     A   da}-,  the  pleasing  re- 
membrance of  wliich  will  follow  you  to  your 


death-bed,  and  will  enable  your  pastors  to 
open  the  gates  of  heaven  to  you,  to  commit 
your  souls  into  the  hands  of  the  Redeemer, 
who  ransomed  it,  and  to  say  to  you,  Remem- 
ber, on  such  a  day  your  sins  were  effaced  ; 
remember,  on  such  a  day  Jesus  Christ  dis- 
armed death  ;  remember,  on  such  a  day  thu 
gate  of  heaven  was  opened  to  you. 

O  day  !  which  the  Lord  has  made,  let  me 
for  ever  rejoice  in  thy  light !  O  day  of  de- 
signs, resolutions,  and  promises,  may  I  never 
forget  thee  !  O  day  of  consolation  and  grace, 
may  a  rich  effusion  of  the  peace  of  God  on 
this  fiuditory  preserve  thy  memorial  through 
a  thousand  generations  I 

Receive  this  peace,  my  dear  brethren.  I 
spread  over  you  hands  washed  in  the  inno- 
cent blood  of  my  Redeemer  ;  and  as  our  risen 
Lord  Jesus  Ciirist,  wlien  he  appeared  to  his 
disciples,  said  to  them, '  Peace,  peace  be  unto 
you;'  so  we,  by  his  command,  while  we  cele- 
brate the  memorable  history  of  his  resurrec- 
tion, say  to  you,  '  Peace,  peace  be  unio  you. 
As  many  as  walk  according  to  this  rule, 
peace  be  on  them,  and  mercy,  and  upon  tho 
Israel  of  God,'  John  xx.  19.  21 ;  Gal  vi.  16. 
To  him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever.    Amen. 


SERMON    XXri. 


THE  EFFUSION  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT. 


Acts  ii.  37. 


Now  when  they  heard  this,  they  were  pricked  in  their  heart,  and  said  unto 
Peter,  and  to  the  rest  of  the  apostles,  Men  and  brethren,  what  shall 
we  do  ? 


*  Son  of  man,  I  send  thee  to  the  children 
of  Israel,  to  a  rebellious  nation.  They  will 
not  hearken  unto  thee ;  for  tliey  will  not 
hearken  unto  me  :  yet  thou  shalt  speak  unto 
them,  and  tell  them,  Tiius  saith  the  Lord 
God ;  whether  they  will  hear,  or  whether 
they  will  forbear ,  and  they  shall  know  that 
there  hath  been  a  prophet  among  them,' 
Ezek.  ii.  3.  5;  iii.  7.  11.  Thus  God  for- 
merly forearmed  Ezekiel  against  the  greatest 
discouragement  that  he  was  to  meet  with  in 
his  mission,  1  mean  the  unsuccessfulness  of  his 
ministry.  For,  my  brethren,  they  arc  not  on- 
ly your  ministers,  who  are  disappointed  in 
the  exercise  of  the  ministry :  the  Isaiahs, 
the  Jeremiahs,  the  Ezekiels,  arc  often  as  un- 
successful as  we.  In  such  melancholy  cases, 
we  must  endeavour  to  surmount  the  obstacles 
which  the  obduracy  of  sinners  opposes  against 
the  dispensations  of  grace.  We  must  shed 
tears  of  compassion  over  an  ungratet'ul  Jeru- 
salem :  and  if",  after  we  have  used  every  pos- 
sible mean,  we  find  the  corruption  of  our 
hearers  invincible,  we  must  be  satisfied  with 
the  peace  of  a  good  conscience,  v/e  must 
learn  to  say  with  the  prophet,  or  rather  with 
Jesus  Christ,    '  I   have   laboured   in   vain,    I 


have  spent  my  strength  for  nought,  and  in 
vain:  }'et  surely  ray  judgment  is  with  tha 
Lord,  and  my  work  with  my  God,'  Isa.  xlix. 
4.  We  must  content  ourselves  with  this 
thought,  if  our  hearers  have  not  been  sancti- 
fied, they  have  been  left  without  excuse  ;  if 
God  has  not  been  glorified  in  their  conver- 
sion, he  will  be  glorious  in  their  destruc- 
tion. 

But  how  sad  is  this  consolation  !  how  me- 
lancholy is  this  encouragement !  By  consc 
crating  our  ministry  to  a  particular  society, 
we  unite  ourselves  to  the  members  of  it  by 
the  tcnderest  ties,  and  wliatever  idea  we 
have  of  the  happiness  which  God  reserves 
for  us  in  a  future  state,  we  know  not  how  to 
persuade  ourselves  that  we  can  be  perfectly 
happy,  when  those  Ciiristians,  v,-ho:n  we  con 
sider  as  our  bretliren,  and  our  children,  are 
plunged  in  a  gulf  of  everlasting  v.-o.  '  If  tho 
angels  of  God  rejoice  over  one  sinner  that' 
ropentoth,'  Luke  xv.  10,  what  pleasure  must 
he  feel,  who  has  reason  to  hope  that  in  this 
valley  of  tears  he  has  had  the  honour  of 
opening  the  gate  of  heaven  to  a  multitude  of 
pinners,  that  he  )ms  '  saved  himself,  and  them 
'  that  heard  him,"  1.  Tim.  iv.  16. 


208 


THE  EFFUSION  OP 


[Ser.  XXII. 


Tin*  pnre  joy  God  gave  on  the  day  of 
Pentecost  to  St.  Peter.  When  ho  entered 
the  ministerial  course,  he  entered  on  a  course 
of  tribulations.  When  he  was  invested 
with  the  apostleship  he  was  invested  with 
martyrdom.  He  who  said  to  him,  '  Feed  my 
eheep,  feed  my  lambs,'  said  also  to  him, '  Ve- 
rily, verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  When  thou 
wast  young,  thou  girdedst  thyself,  and  walk- 
edst  whither  thou  wouldst:  but  when  thou 
shalt  be  old,  thou  slialt  stretcli  forth  thy 
hands,  and  another  shall  gird  thee,  and  carry 
thee  whither  thou  wouldst  not,'  John  xvi.  15, 
16.  18.  In  order  to  animate  him  against  a 
world  of  contradicting  oppose rs,  and  to  sweet- 
en the  bitternesses  which  were  to  accompany 
his  preaching,  Jesus  Christ  gave  him  tlie 
most  delicious  pleasure  that  a  Christian 
preacher  can  taste.  He  caused,  at  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  those  fortresses  to  fall  which 
were  erected  to  oppose  the  establishment  of 
the  gospel.  The  first  experiment  of  St.  Peter 
is  a  miracle ;  his  first  sermon  astonishes, 
alarms,  transforms,  and  obtains,  three  thou- 
sand conquests  to  Jesus  Christ. 

This  marvellous  event  the  primitive  church 
saw,  and  this  while  we  celebrate,  we  wish  to 
see  again  to-day.  Too  long,  alas !  we  have 
had  no  other  encouragement  in  the  exercise 
of  our  ministry  than  that  which  God  former- 
ly gave  to  the  prophet  Ezekiel :  shall  we  ne- 
ver enjoy  that  which  he  gave  to  St.  Peter .'' 
too  long,  alas  !  we  have  received  that  com- 
mand from  God,  'Thou  shalt  speak  unto  them, 
and  tell  them.  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  whether 
they  will  hear,  or  whether  they  will  forbear, 
for  they  are  a  rebellious  house.'  Almighty 
God!  pour  out  that  benediction  on  this  ser- 
mon, which  will  excite  compunction  in  the 
hearts,  and  put  these  words  in  the  mouths  of 
converts,  '  Men  and  brethren  what  shall  we 
do  .■"  Add  new  members  '  to  thy  church,' 
Acts  ii.  47;  not  only  to  the  visible,  but  also 
to  the  invisible  church,  which  is  '  thy  pecu- 
liar treasure,'  Exod.  xix.  5,  the  object  of  thy 
tenderest  love.     Amen. 

'  When  they  heard  this  they  were  pricked 
in  their  heart.'  They  of  whom  the  sacred 
historian  speaks  were  a  part  of  those  Parthi-' 
ans,  and  Medes,  and  Elamites,  and  dwellers 
in  Mesopotamia,  and  in  Judea  and  Cappado- 
cia,  in  Pontus,  Asia,  Phrygia,  and  Egj-pt, 
ver.  9,  10,  who  had  travelled  to  Jerusalem 
to  keep  the  feast  of  Pentecost.  Wiien  these 
men  heard  this,  that  is,  when  they  heard  the 
sermon  of  St.  Peter,  '  they  were  pricked  in 
their  heart,  and  said,  Men  and  brethren,  what 
shall  we  do  ?'  In  order  to  understand  the 
happy  effect,  we  must  endeavouF  to  under- 
stand the  cause.  In  order  to  comprehend 
what  passed  in  the  auditory,  we  must  under- 
stand the  sermon  of  the  preacher.  There  are 
five  remarkable  things  in  the  sermon,  and 
there  are  five  correspondent  dispositions  in 
the  hearers. 

I.  I  see  in  the  sermon  a  noble  freedom  of 
speech  ;  and  in  the  souls  of  the  hearers  those 
deep  impressions,  which  a  subject  gene- 
rally makes,  when  the  preacher  himself  is 
deeply  affected  with  its  excellence,  and  em- 
boldened by  the  justice  of  his  cause. 

II.  There  is  in  tlic  sermon  a  miracle  which 
gives  dignity  and  weight  to  tb«  tubject :  and 


there  is  in  the  souls  of  the  auditors  that  d«- 
ference,  which  cannot  be  withheld  from  a 
man  to  whose  ministry  God  puts  his  seal. 

III.  I  see  in  the  sermon  of  the  preacher  an 
invincible  power  of  reasoning;  and  in  the  souls         i 
of  the  audience  that   conviction  which  carries         1 
along  with  it  the  consent  of  the  will. 

IV.  There  are  in  the  sermon  stinging  re- 
proofs ;  and  in  the  souls  of  the  hearers  pain- 
ful remorse  and  regrets. 

V.  I  observe  in  the  sermon  threatening* 
of  approaching  judgments  ;  and  in  the  souls 
of  the  hearers  a  horror,  that  seizes  all  their 
powers  for  fiear  of  the  judgments  of  a  con- 
suming God,  Hcb.  xii.  2'J.  These  are  five 
sources  of  reflections,  my  brethren ;  fivo 
comments  on  the  words  of  the  text. 

I.  We  have  remarked  in  the  sermon  of  St. 
Peter,  that  noble  freedom  of  speech  which 
so  well  becomes  a  Christian  preacher,  and 
is  so  well  adapted  to  strike  his  hearers.  How 
much  soever  we  now  admire  this  beautiful 
part  of  pulpit  eloquence,  it  is  very  difficult 
to  imitate  it.  Sometimes  a  weakness  of 
faith,  which  attends  your  best  established 
preachers ;  sometimes  worldly  prudence  ; 
sometimes  a  timidity,  that  proceeds  from  a 
modest  consciousness  of  the  insufficiency  of 
their  talents ;  sometimes  a  fear,  too  well 
grounded,  alas  !  of  tlie  retorting  of  those 
censures  which  people,  always  ready  to 
murmur  against  them,  who  reprove  their 
vices,  are  eager  to  make  ;  sometimes  a  fear 
of  those  persecutions,  which  the  world  al- 
wa3's  raises  against  all  whom  heaven  qualifies 
to  destroy  the  empire  of  sin  :  all  these  con- 
siderations damp  the  courage  of  the  preach- 
er and  deprive  him  of  freedom  of  speech. 
If  in  the  silent  study  ,'when  the  mind  is  filled 
with  an  apprehension  of  the  tremendous 
majesty  of  God,  we  resolve  to  attack  vice,  i| 
how  eminent  soever  the  seat  of  its  dominion  1 

may  be,  I  own,  my  brethren,  we  are  apt  to 
be  intimidated  in  a  public  assembly,  when  in 
surveying  the  members  of  whom  it  is  compo- 
sed, we  see  some  hearers,  whom  a  multitude 
of  reasons  ought  to  render  very  respectabla 
to  us.  J 

But  none  of  these  considerations  had  any  \ 

weight  with  our  apostle.  And,  indeed,  why 
should  any  of  them  affect  him  ?  Should  the 
weakness  of  his  faith  ?  He  had  conversed 
with  Jesus  Christ  himself;  he  had  accompa- 
nied him  on  the  holy  mount,  he  had  '  heard 
a  voice  from  the  excellent  glory,'  saying, 
'  This  is  my  beloved  Son  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased,'  2  Pet.  i.  17.  Moreover,  he  had 
seen  him  alter  his  resurrection  loaden  with 
the  spoils  of  death  and  hell,  ascending  to 
heaven  in  a  cloud,  received  into  the  bosom 
of  God  amidst  the  acclamations  of  angels, 
shouting  for  joy,  and  crying,  '  Lift  up  your 
-heads,  O  ye  gates  !  ye  everlasting  doors  !  the 
King  of  g:ory  shall  come  in,'  Ps.  xxiv.  7. 
Could  he  distrust  his  talents.'  The  prince  of 
the  kingdom,  '  the  author  and  finisher  of 
faith,'  Heb.  xii.  2,  had  told  him,  'Thou 
art  Peter,  and  upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my 
church,'  Matt.  xvi.  18.  Should  he  dread  re- 
proaches and  recriminations  ?  The  purity 
of  his  intentions,  and  the  sanctity  of  his  life, 
confound  them.  Should  he  pretend  to  keep 
fair  with  th«  world  ?     Bui  what  finesis  is  to 


skr.  xxn.] 


THE  HOLT  SPIRIT 


209 


be  used,  when  eternal  misery  is  to  be  de- 
nounced, and  eternal  happiness  proposed  ? 
Should  he  shrink  back  from  the  suiibrings 
that  superstition  and  cruelty  were  preparing 
for  Christians  ?  His  timidity  would  have 
cost  him  too  dear ;  it  would  have  cost  him 
tighs  too  deep,  tears  too  many.  Persecuting 
tyrants  could  invent  no  punishments  so  se- 
vere as  those  which  his  own  conscience  had 
inflicted  on  him  for  his  former  fall :  at  all 
adventures,  if  he  must  be  a  martyr,  he 
chooses  rather  to  die  for  religion  than  for 
apostacy. 

Philosophers  talk  of  certain  invisible  bands 
that  unite  mankind  to  one  another.  A  man 
animated  with  any  passion,  has  in  the  fea- 
tures of  his  face,  and  in  the  tone  of  his  voice, 
a  something,  that  partly  communicates  his 
Bentiments  to  his  hearers.  Error  proposed  in 
a  lively  manner  by  a  man,  who  is  affected 
with  it  himself,  may  seduce  unguarded  peo- 
ple. Fictions,  which  we  know  are  fictions, 
exhibited  in  this  manner,  move  and  affect  us 
for  a  moment.  But  what  a  dominion  over 
the  heart  does  that  speaker  obtain  who  de- 
livers truths,  and  who  is  aifected  himself 
with  the  truths  which  he  delivers  .-'  To  this 
part  of  the  eloquence  of  St.  Peter,  we  must 
attribute  the  emotions  of  his  hearers  ;  '  they 
were  pricked  in  their  heart.'  They  said  to 
the  apostles,  'Men  and  brethren,  what  shall 
we  do  ?'  Such  are  the  impressions  which  a 
man  deply  affected  with  the  excellence  of  his 
subject,  and  emboldened  by  the  justice  of  his 
cause,  makes  on  his  hearers. 

II.  A  second  thing  which  gave  weight  and 
dignity  to  the  sermon  of  St.  Peter  was 
the  miracle  that  preceded  his  preaching,  I 
mean  the  gifts  of  tongues,  which  had  been 
communicated  to  all  the  apostles.  This  pro- 
digy had  three  characteristic  marks  of  a  ge- 
nuine miracle.  What  is  a  true,  genuine, 
authentic  miracle  ?  In  my  opinion,  one  of 
the  principal  causes  of  the  fruitlessness  of  all 
our  inquiries  on  this  article  is  the  pretend- 
ing to  examine  it  philosophically.  This  rock 
we  should  cautiously  endeavour  to  avoid. 
Mankind  know  so  little  of  the  powers  of  na- 
ture, that  it  is  very  difficult,  if  not  impossi- 
ble to  determine  strictly  and  philosophically, 
whether  an  action,  which  seems  to  us  a  real 
miracle,  be  really  such ;  or  whether  it  be 
not  our  ig'norance  that  causes  it  to  appear  so 
to  us.  We  are  so  unacquainted  with  the  fa- 
culties of  unembodied  spirits,  and  of  others 
which  are  united  to  some  portion  of  matter 
by  laws  different  from  those  that  unite  our 
bodies  and  souls,  that  we  cannot  determine 
whether  an  event,  which  seems  to  us  an  im- 
mediate work  of  the  omnipotence  of  God,  be 
not  operated  by  an  inferior  power,  though  sub- 
ordinate to  his  will. 

But  the  more  reason  a  philosopher  has  for 
mortification,  when  he  pretends  thoroughly 
to  elucidate  abstruse  questions,  in  order  to 
gratify  curiosity,  the  more  helps  has  a  Chris- 
tian to  satisfy  himself,  when  he  investi- 
gates them  with  the  laudable  design  of  know- 
ing all  that  is  necessary  to  be  known,  in 
order  to  salvation.  Let  us  abridge  the  mat- 
ter. Tlie  prodigy,  that  accompanied  tlio  ser- 
mon of  St.  Peter,  had  three  characteristic 
marks  of  a  real  miracle. 


1.  It  teas  above  human  power.  Every  ' 
pretended  miracle,  that  has  not  this  first 
character,  ought  to  be  suspected  by  us.  Th» 
want  of  this  has  prevented  our  astonishment 
at  several  prodigies  that  have  been  played  off" 
against  the  reformation,  and  will  always  pre- 
vent their  making  any  impression  on  our 
minds.  No  ;  should  a  hundred  statues  of  the 
blessed  virgin  move  before  us ;  should  th© 
images  of  all  the  saints  walk  ;  should  a  thou- 
sand phantoms  appear  ;*  should  voices  in  th© 
air  be  heard  against  Calvin  and  Luther  ;  wo 
should  infer  only  one  conclusion  from  all- 
these  artifices  ;  that  is,  that  they  vvho  uso 
them,  distrusting  the  justice  of  their  cause, 
supply  the  want  of  truth  with  tricks  ;  that, 
as  they  despair  of  obtaining  rational  converts, 
they  may,  at  least,  proselyte  simple  souls. 

But  the  prodigy  in  question  was  evidently 
superior  to  human  power.  Of  all  sciences  in 
the  world,  that  of  languages  is  the  least  capa- 
ble of  an  instantaneous  acquisition.  Certain, 
natural  talents,  a  certain  superiority  of  ge- 
nius, sometimes  produce  in  some  men  th» 
same  effects  which  long  and  painful  industry 
can  scarcely  ever  produce  in  others.  Wo 
have  sometimes  seen  people,  whom  naturo- 
seems  to  have  designedly  formed,  in  an  in- 
stant become  courageous  captains,  profound 
geometricians,  admirable  orators  :  but  tongue*'' 
are  acquired  by  study  and  time.  The  acqui- 
sition of  languages  is  like  the  knowledge  of 
history.  It  is  not  a  superior  genius,  it  is  not 
a  great  capacity,  that  can  discover  to  any 
man  what  passed  in  the  world  ten  or  twelvo 
ages  ago.  The  monuments  of  antiquity 
must  be  consulted,  huge  folios  must  be  read, 
and  an  immense  number  of  volumes  must  bo 
understood,  arranged,  and  digested.  In  liko 
manner,  the  knowledge  of  languages  is  a 
knowledge  of  experience,  and  no  man  can 
ever  derive  it  from  his  own  innate  fund  of 
ability.  Yet  the  apostles,  and  apostolicaL 
men,  men  who  were  known  to  be  men  of  no 
education,  all  on  a  sudden  knew  the  arbitrary 
signs,  by  which  different  nations  had  agreed 
to  express  their  thoughts.  Terms,  which 
had  no  natural  connexion  with  their  ideas, 
I  were  all  on  a  sudden  arranged  in  their  minds. 
Those  things,  which  other  men  can  only  ac- 
quire by  disgustful  labour,  those  particularly, 
which  belong  to  the  most  difficult  branchea- 
of  knowledge,  they  understood,  without  mak. 
ing  the  least  attempt  to  learn  them.  They 
even  offered  to  communicate  those  gifts  to. 
them,  who  believed  their  doctrine,  and  there- 
by prevented  the  suspicions  that  might  havo 
been  formed  of  them,  of  having  affected  igno- 
rance all  their  lives,  in  order  to  astonish  all 
the  world  at  last  with  a  display  of  literature, 
and  by  that  to  cover  the  black  design  of  im- 
posing on  the  church. 

2.  But  perhaps  these  miracles  may  not  be 
the  more  respectable  on  account  of  their 
superiority  to  human  power.  Perhaps,  if 
they  be  not  human,  they  may  be  devilish.' 
No,  my  brethren,  a  little  attention  to  their 
second  character  will  convince  you  that  they 
are  divine.  '  Their  end  was  to  incline  men, 
not  to  renounce  natural  and  revealed  religion, 
but  to  respect  and  to  follow  both  :  not  to  rcn- 


*  Sec  a  great  nunibor  nf  examples  of  this  kind  in 
Lavater's  Trait  da  f^'utres. 


210 


THE  EFFUSION  OF 


[Ser.  XXII. 


der  an  attentlvo  examination  unnecessary, 
but  to  allure  men  to  it.' 

•  It  is  impossible  that  God  should  divide  an 
intelligent  soul  between  evidence  and  evi- 
dence ;  between  the  evidence  of  falseliood  in 
an  absurd  proposition,  and  the  evidence  of 
truth  that  results  from  a  miracle  wrou<rht  in 
favour  of  that  proposition.  I  hn.ve  evident 
proofs  in  favour  of  this  proposition,  The 
whole  is  greater  than  a  j) art :  were  God  to 
work  a  miracle  in  favour  of  the  opposite  pro- 
position, TIte  ichole  is  less  than  a  part,  he 
would  divide  my  mind  betvvecn  evidence  and 
evidence,  between  the  evidence  of  my  pro- 
position, and  the  evidence  that  resulted  from 
the  miracle  wrought  in  favour  of  the  opposite 
proposition  :  he  would  require  me  to  believe 
one  truth,  that  could  not  be  established  with- 
out the  renouncing  of  another  truth. 

In  like  manner,  were  God  to  work  a  mi- 
racle to  authorize  a  doctrine  oppo.site  to  any 
one  of  those  which  are  demonstrated  by  na- 
tural or  revealed  religion,  God  would  be  con- 
trary to  himself;  he  would  establish  that  by 
natural  and  revealed  religion  which  he  would 
destroy  by  a  miracle,  and  he  would  establish 
by  a  miracle  what  he  would  destroy  by  na- 
tural and  revealed  religion. 

The  end  of  the  prodigy  of  the  preaching  of 
St.  Peter,  the  end  of  all  the  miracles  of  the 
apostles,  was  to  render  men  attentive  to  na- 
tural and  revealed  religion.  "When  they  ad- 
dressed themselves  to  Pagans,  you  know, 
they  exhorted  them  to  avail  themselves  of 
the  light  of  nature  in  oi-der  to  understand 
their  need  of  revelation  :  and  in  this  chapter 
the  apostle  exhorts  the  Jews  to  compare  the 
miracle  that  was  just  now  wrought  with  their 
own  prophecies,  that  from  both  there  might 
arise  proof  of  the  divine  mission  of  that  Mes- 
siah whom  he  preached  to  them. 

'3.  The  prodigy  that  accompanied  the 
preaching  of  St.  Peter  had  the  third  charac- 
ter of  a  true  miracle.  It  icas  icrovght  in  the 
presence  of  those  irho  had  the  greatest  bitc- 
rest  in  hnoiciyig  the  truth  of  il.  Witliout 
this,  how  could  this  miracle  have  inclined 
them  to  embrace  the  religion  in  favour  of 
which  it  was  wrought .'  On  this  article  there 
has  been,  and  there  will  be,  an  eternal  dispute 
betvvecn  us  and  the  members  of  that  commu- 
nion, with  which  it  is  far  more  desirable  for 
lis  to  have  a  unity  of  faith  than  an  open  war. 
It  is  a  maxim,  which  the  church  of  Rome  h;is 
constituted  an  article  of  faith,  that  the  pre- 
sence of  a  heretic  suspends.a  miracle.  How 
unjust  is  this  mnxim  ! 

VVe  dispute  with  you  the  essential  charac- 
ters of  the  true  church.  You  pretend  that 
one  indelible  cliaracter  is  the  power  of  work- 
ing miracles;  and,  you  add,  this  power  re- 
sides with  you  in  all  its  glory.  Vv'e  require 
you  to  produce  evidence.  We  promise  to  be 
open  to  conviction.  We  engage  to  allow  the 
argument,  which  you  derive  from  the  power  of 
working  miracles,  all  the  weight  that  religion 
will  suffer  us  to  give  it.  But  you  keep  out 
of  sight.  You  choose  for  your  theatres  cloi.=;- 
tcrs  and  monasteries,  and  your  own  partisans 
and  disciples  are  your  only  spectators. 

Tho-apostles  observed  a  diflcrcnt  conduct. 
Very  far  from  adopting  your  maxim,  tJial  tlie 
presence  of  a    heretic    suspends   a    miracle. 


they  affirmed  the  direct  contrary.  St.  Paul 
expressly  says,  *  Tongues  are  for  a  sign,  not 
to  them  that  believe,  but  to  them  that  believe 
not,'  1  Cor.  xiv.  22.  This  is  a  very  remark- 
able passage.  Some  of  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians made  an  indiscreet  parade  of  their  mi- 
raculous gifts  in  religious  assemblies.  St. 
Paul  reproves  their  vanity  ;  but  at  the  samo 
time  tells  the  Corinthians,  that  in  some  cases 
they  might  produce  those  gifts  in  their  as 
semblies,  they  might  e.xercise  them  when 
unlelievers  were  present ;  that  is,  when  per- 
sons were  in  their  assemblies  Vv'ho  were  not 
convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  gospel. 

Read  the  history  of  the  apostles.  Whero 
did  Philip  the  evangelist  heal  a  great  number 
of  demoniacs.'  Was  this  miracle  performed 
in  the  cell  of  a  monastery .-'  In  the  presence 
of  partial  and  interested  persons  ?  No:  it  was 
in  Samaria  ;  in  the  presence  of  that  celebrat- 
ed magician,  who,  not  being  able  to  deny,  or 
to  discredit,  the  miracles  of  the  apostle,  of- 
fered to  purchase  the  power  of  working  them, 
Acts.  viii.  7.  9. 18,  &c.  Where  did  the  Holy 
Spirit  descend  on  Cornelius,  the  centurion, 
and  on  all  those  who  were  with  him  ?  chap. 
X.  In  a  dark  chamber  of  a  convent  ?  Not 
in  the  presence  of  suspected  persons .-"  Behold  ! 
it  was  in  Cesarea,  a  city  full  of  Jews,  a  city, 
in  which  the  Roman  governors  held  their 
courts,  and'where  a  considerable  garrison  of 
Roman  soldiers  was  always  stationed.  In 
what  place  was  the  imagination  of  the  popu- 
lace so  stricken  with  the  miracles  that  were 
wrought  by  St.  Paul  in  the  course  of  two 
years,  that  they  carried  'unto  the  sick  hand- 
kerchiefs and  aprons,'  at  the  touching  of 
which,'  diseases  departed  from  them,  and  the 
evil  spirits  went  out  of  them  ?'  Acts  .xix.  12. 
Was  it  in  a  nunnery  ?  Was  it  not  in  the  pre- 
sence of  suspected  persons .'  Behold  !  it  was 
at  Ephesus,  another  metropolis,  where  a  great 
number  of  Jews  resided,  and  where  they  had 
a-  famous  synagogue.  And  not  to  wander 
any  farther  from  my  principal  subject,  whero 
did  the  apostles  exercise  those  gifts  which 
they  had  received  from  the  Holy  Ghost  ?  In 
a  conclave  .'  No.  In  the  presence  of  suspect- 
ed persons .'  Yea :  in  the  presence  of  Modes, 
Parthians,  and  Elamites,  before  dwellers  in 
Mesopotamia,  in  Pontus,  in  Asia,  in  Phrygia, 
and  in  Egypt,  in  Pamphylia,  in  Libya,  and 
in  Rome.  They  exercised  their  gifts  in 
Jerusalem  itself,  in  the  very  city  where  Jesus 
Christ  had  been  crucified.  The  prodigy, 
that  accompanied  the  preaching  of  St.  Peter, 
had  all  the  characters  then  of  a  true,  real, 
genuine  miracle. 

The  miracle  being  granted,  T  afurm,  that 
the  tompnnction  of  heart,  of  which  my  text 
speaks,  was  an  effect  of  that  attention  which 
could  not  be  refused  to  such  an  extraordinary 
event,  and  n?  that  deference,  which  could  not 
he  withheld  from  a,  man,  to  whose  ministrij 
Cod  had  set  his  zeal.  Such  prodigies  might 
well  give  dignity  aaul  Vi'cight  to  the  language 
of  those  who  v/rought  them,  and  prepare  the 
minds  of  spectators  to  attend  to  the  evidence 
of  their  argumentation.  Modern  prcacliers 
sometimes  borrow  the  innocent  artifices  of 
eloquence,  to  engage  j'ou  to  hear  those 
truths  which  j-oii  ought  to  hear  for  their  own 
sakcs.     Thpi'  endeavour  sometime?  to  obtain, 


Seb.  XXII.] 


THE  HOLY  SPIRIT. 


21i 


by  a  choice  of  words,  a  tour  of  thought,  an 
harmonious  cadence,  that  attention  which 
you  would  often  withliold  from  their  subjects 
were  they  content  witli  proposing  them  in  a 
manner  simple  and  unadorned.  But  how 
g;reat  were  tiie  advantages  of  the  first  heralds 
of  the  gospel  over  modern  preachers  !  The 
resurrection  of  a  dead  body  ;  what  a  fine  ex- 
ordium !  the  sudden  death  of  an  Ananias  and 
a  Sapphira  ;  what  an  alarming  conclusion  I 
The  expressive  eloquence  of  a  familiar  super- 
natural knowledge  of  the  least  known,  and 
the  best  sounding,  tongues ;  how  irresistibly 
striking !  Accordingly,  three  thousand  of 
the  hearers  of  St.  Peter,  yielded  to  the  power 
of  his  speech.  They  instantly,  and  entirely, 
surrendered  themselves  to  men,  who  address- 
ed them  in  a  manner  so  extraordinary,  '  they 
were  pricked  in  their  heart,  and  said  unto 
Peter,  and  to  the  rest  of  the  apostles,  Men 
and  brethren,  what  shall  we  do  ?' 

III.  We  remark,  in  the  discourse  of  the 
apostle,  an  inviucihle  power  of  reasoning, 
and,  in  the  souls  of  his  hearers,  that  convic- 
tion lohick  carries  along  with  it  the  consent 
of  the  uhU.  Of  all  methods  of  reasoning  with 
an  adversary,  none  is  more  close  and  con- 
clusive than  that  v/hich  is  taken  from  his 
own  principles.  It  has  this  advantage;  above 
others,  the  opponent  is  obliged,  according  to 
strict  rules  of  reasoning,  to  admit  the  argu- 
ment, although  it  be  sophistical  and  false. 
For  by  what  rule  can  he  reject  my  proposi- 
tion, if  it  have  an  equal  degree  of  probability 
with  another  proposition,  which  he  receives 
as  evident  and  demonstrative  .'  But  when  the 
principles  of  an  adversary  are  well  grounded  ; 
and  when  we  are  able  to  prove  that  his  prin- 
ciples produce  our  conclusions,  our  reasoning 
becomes  demonstrative  to  a  rational  opponent, 
and  he  cannot  deny  it. 

Christianity,  it  is  remarkable,  is  defensible 
both  ways.  The  first  may  be  successfully  em- 
ployed against  Pagans  ;  the  second  more  suc- 
cessfully against  the  Jews.  It  is  easy  to  con- 
vince a  heathen,  that  he  can  have  no  right  to 
exclaim  against  the  mysteries  of  the  gospel ; 
because,  if  he  have  any  reason  to  exclaim 
against  the  mysteries  of  Christianity,  he 
has  infinitely  more  to  exclaim  against  those 
of  Paganism.  '  Doth  it  become  you,'  said 
Justin  Martyr  to  the  heatJiens,  in  his  se- 
cond apology  for  Christianity,  '  Doth  it  be- 
come you  to  disallow  our  mysteries ;  tliat  tlic 
Word  was  the  only-begotten  Son  of  God, 
that  he  was  crucified,  that  he  rose  from  the 
dead,  that  he  ascended  to  heaven  ?  We  affirm 
nothing  but  what  has  been  taught  and  believ- 
ed by  you.  For  the  authors,  ye  know,  whom 
ye  admire,  say  that  Jupiter  had  many  chil- 
dren ;  that  Mercury  is  tiie  word,  the  interpre- 
ter, the  teacher  of  all;  that  iEsculapius,  after 
he  had  been  stricken  with  thunder,  ascended 
to  heaven,  and  so  on.'* 

The  second  way  was  employed  more  suc- 
cessfully by  the  apostles  against  the  Jews. 
They  demonstrated,  that  all  the  reasons, 
which  obliged  them  to  be  Jews,  ougjit  to  have 
induced  them  to  become  Christians :  that 
every  argument,  which  obliged  them  to  ac- 

*  Justin  Martyr.  Apol.  2  pro  Christian,  p.  CC.  C7, 
edit.  Paris  1630. 


knowledge  the  divine  legation  of  Moses, 
ought  to  have  engaged  them  to  believe  in 
Jesus  Clirist.  St.  Peter  made  use  of  this 
method.  All  the  apostles  used  it.  Put  toge- 
ther all  those  valuable  fragments  of  their 
sermons  which  the  Holy  Spirit  has  preserv- 
ed, and  you  will  easily  see,  that  these  holy 
men  took  the  Jews  on  their  own  principles, 
and  endeavoured  to  convince  them,  as  we 
just  now  said,  that  whatever  engaged  them 
to  adhere  to  Judaism  ought  to  have  engaged 
them  to  embrace  Christianity,  that  what  in- 
duced them  to  be  Jews  ought  to  have  induced 
them  to  become  Christians. 

What  argument  can  you  allege  for  your 
religion,  said  they  to  the  Jews,  which  does 
not  establish  that  which  we  preach  .'  Do  you 
allege  the  privileges  of  your  legislator  f  Your 
argument  is  demonstrative  :  Moses  had  access 
to  God  on  the  holy  mountain ;  he  did  con- 
verse with  him  as  a  man  speaks  to  his  friend. 
But  this  argument  concludes  for  us.  The 
Christian  legislator  had  more  glorious  privi- 
leges still.  '  God  raised  him  up,  having  loos- 
ed the  pains  of  death,' Acts  ii.  24,  &c.  he  suf- 
fered not  his  Holy  One  to  see  corruption,  he 
has  caused  him  '  to  sit  on  his  throne,  he  hath 
made  hira  both  Lord  and  Christ.' 

Do  you  allege  the  purity  of  the  moraUty  of 
your  religion  .■'  Your  argument  is  demonstra- 
tive. The  manifest  design  of  your  religion 
is  to  reclaim  men  to  God,  to  prevent  idolatry, 
and  to  inspire  them  with  piety,  benevolence, 
and  zeal.  But  this  argument  concludes  for 
us.  What  do  we  preach  to  you  but  these 
very  articles  ?  To  what  would  we  engage 
you,  except  to  *  repent'  of  your  sins,  to  receive 
'  the  promise'  which  was  made  '  unto  you  and 
to  your  children,'  and  'to  save  yourselves 
from  this  untoward  generation.''  ver.  39.  Do 
we  require  any  thing  of  you  beside  that  spirit 
of  benevolence,  which  unites  the  hearts  of 
mankind,  and  which  makes  us  '  have  all  things 
common,  sell  our  possessions,  part  them  to 
all  men  as  every  man  hath  need,  and  continue 
daily  in  the  temple  with  one  accord  .'"  ver.  44. 

Do  you  allege  the  miracles  that  were 
wrouglit  to  prove  the  truth  of  your  religion  ? 
Your  argument  is  demonstrative.  But  this 
argument  establishes  the  truth  of  our  reli- 
gion. Behold  the  miraculous  gifts,  which 
have  been  already  communicated  to  those 
who  iiave  believed,  and  which  are  ready  to 
be  communicated  to  those  who  sliall  yet  be- 
lieve. Behold  each  of  us  vv'orking  miracles, 
which  have  never  been  wrought  by  any,  ex- 
cept by  a  i'ew  of  the  divine  men  who  are  so 
justly  venerable  in  your  esteem.  See,  the 
Holy  Ghost  is  'poured  out  upon  all  flesh  ; 
our  sons  and  our  daughters  prophesy,  our 
young  men  see  visitjns,  and  our  old  men  dream 
dreams,  our  servants  and  our  hand-maidens' 
are  honoured  with  miraculous  gifts,  ver.  17. 

What,  tlien,  are  the  prejudices  that  still  en- 
gage you  to  continue  in  the  professioii  of  Ju- 
daism.' Are  they  derived  from  the  propho! 
cies  ?  Your  principles  are  demonstrative  :  but, 
in  tlie  person  of  our  Jesus,  we  show  you  to- 
day all  the  grand  characters,  wliich  your  own 
prophets  said,  would  bo  found  in  the  Messiah. 
In  the  person  of  our  Jesus  is  accomplished 
that  famous  prophecy  in  the  sixteenth  Psalm, 
which  some  of  you   apply  to    David,  and,  to 


212 


THE  EFFUSION  OF 


[Ser.  xxn. 


support  a  misrepresentation,  propatrate  a  ridi- 
culous tradition,  that  he  never  died,  although 
his  tomb  is  among  you  :  '  Thou  wilt  not  leave 
my  soul  in  hell,  neither  wilt  thou  suffer  thine 
Holy  One  to  see  corruption,'  ver.  10.  In  the 
person  of  Jesus  is  accomplished  the  celebrat- 
ed prediction  of  the  Psalmist,  '  Sit  thou  at  my 
right  hand,  until  I  make  thine  enemies  thy 
footstool,'  Ps.  ex.  1.  Such  were  the  argu- 
ments of  St.  Peter. 

Close  reasoning  ought  to  be  the  soul  of  all 
discourses.  I  compare  it  in  regard  to  elo- 
<juence  with  benevolence  in  regard  to  religion. 
Without  benevolence  we  may  maintain  a 
show  of  religion,  but  we  cannot  possess  the 
Bubstance  of  it.  '  Speak  with  the  tongues  of 
angels,  have  the  gifts  of  prophecy,  understand 
all  mysteries,  have  all  faith,  so  that  ye  could 
remove  mountains,  bestow  all  your  goods  to 
feed  the  poor,  and  give  your  bodies  to  be 
burned,'  if  you  have  not  benevolence,  you  are 
•nothing,'  1  Cor.  xiii.  1,  &c.  if  you  be  desti- 
tute of  benevolence,  all  your  virtue  is  nothing 
but  a  noise,  it  is  only  as  '  sounding  brass,  or 
as  a  tinkling  cymbal.'  In  like  manner  in  re- 
gard to  eloquence ;  speak  with  authority, 
•display  treasures  of  erudition,  let  the  liveliest 
and  most  sublime  imagination  wing  it  away, 
turn  all  your  periods  till  they  make  music  in 
the  most  delicate  ear,  what  will  all  j'our  dis- 
courses be,  if  void  of  argumentation  -•'  a  noise, 
'sounding  brass,  a  tinkling  cymbal.'  You 
may  surprise  ;  but  j'ou  cannot  convince  :  you 
may  dazzle ;  but  you  cannot  instruct :  you 
may,  indeed,  please ;  but  you  can  neither 
change,  sanctify,  nor  transform. 

IV.  There  are,  in  the  sermon  of  St.  Peter, 
stinging  reproofs;  and,  in  the  souls  of  the 
hearers,  a  pungent  remorse.     The  apostle  re- 

S roves  the  Jews  in  these  words,  '  Jesus  of 
fazareth,  a  man  approved  of  God  among 
Jou,  by  miracles,  and  wonders,  and  signs, 
im,  being  delivered  by  the  determinate  coun- 
sel and  foreknowledge  of  God,  ye  have  taken, 
and  by  wicked  hands  have  crucified  and  slain,' 
ver.  22.  This  single  reproof  excited  the  most 
flchocking  ideas  that  can  alarm  the  mind. 
Aud  who  can  express  the  agitations  which 
were  produced  in  the  souls  of  the  audience  ? 
What  pencil  can  describe  the  state  of  their 
consciences  .'  They  had  committed  this  crime 
*  through  ignorance,'  Acts  iii.  17.  They  had 
congratulated  one  another  on  having  destroy- 
ed the  chief  enemy  of  their  religion,  and  on 
having  freed  the  ciiurch  from  a  monster  who 
had  risen  up  to  devour  it.  They  had  lifted 
up  their  bloody  hands  towards  heaven,  and, 
to  the  rewarder  of  virtue,  had  prayed  for  a 
recompense  for  parricide.  They  had  inso- 
lently displayed  the  spoils  of  Jesus,  as  trophies 
after  a  victory  are  displayed.  The  same  prin- 
ciple which  excited  them  to  commit  the 
crime,  prevented  their  discover}'  of  its  enor- 
mity, after  they  had  committed  it.  The  same 
veils,  which  they  had  thrown  over  the  glori- 
ous virtue  of  Jesus  Christ,  during  his  humi- 
liation, they  still  continued  to  throw  over  it, 
in  his  exaltation.  St.  Peter  tore  these  fatal 
veils  asunder,  ^s  He  showed  these  ||madmen 
their  own  conduct  in  its  true  point  of  light; 
and  discovered  their  parricide  in  all  its  hor- 
ror :  '  Ye  have  taken,  and  crucified,  Jesus, 
who  was  approved  of  God'     I  think  I  see  the 


history,  or,  shall  I  say  the  fable  ?  of  a  Theban 
king  acting  over  again.  Educated  far  from 
the  place  of  his  nativity,  he  knew  not  his 
parents.  His  magnanimity  seemed  to  indi- 
cate, if  not  the  grandeur  of  his  birth,  at  least 
the  lustre  of  his  future  life.  The  quelling  of 
the  most  outrageous  disturbers  of  society,  and 
the  destroying  of  monsters  were  his  favourite 
employments.  Nothing  seemed  impossible 
to  his  courage.  In  one  of  his  expeditions, 
without  knowing"  him,  he  killed  his  father. 
Some  time  after,  he  encountered  a  monster, 
that  terrified  the  whole  kingdom,  and  for  his 
reward  obtained  his  own  mother  in  marriage. 
At  length  he  found  out  the  fatal  mystery  of 
his  origin,  and  the  tragical  murder  of  his  own 
father.  Shocked  at  his  wretchedness ;  it  is 
not  riglit,  exclaimed  he,  that  the  perpetrator 
of  such  crimes  should  enjoy  his  sight,  and  ha 
tore  out  his  own  eyes. 

This  image  is  too  faint  to  express  the  ago» 
nies  of  the  Jews.  The  ignorance  of  ffidipua 
was  invincible  :  that  of  the  Jews  was  volun- 
tary. St.  Peter  dissipated  this  ignorance. 
'  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  a  man  approved  of  God, 
ye  have  taken,  and  by  wicked  hands  have 
crucified  and  slain.'  This  charge  excited 
ideas  of  a  thousand  distressing  truths.  The 
apostle  reminded  them  of  the  holy  rules  of 
righteousness  which  Jesus  Christ  had  preach- 
ed and  exemplified,  and  the  holiness  of  him 
whom  they  had  crucified,  filled  them  with  a 
sense  of  their  own  depravity. 

He  reminded  them  of  the  benefits  which 
Jesus  Christ  had  bountifully  bestowed  on 
their  nation,  of  the  preference  which  he  had 
given  them  above  all  other  people  in  tho 
world,  and  of  the  exercise  of  his  ministry 
among  '  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel,' 
Matt.  XV.  24,  and  his  profusion  of  these  bless- 
ings discovered  their  black  ingratitude. 

He  reminded  them  of  the  grandeur  of 
Jesus  Christ.  He  showed  them,  that  the 
Jesus,  who  had  appeared  so  very  contempti- 
ble to  them,  '  upheld  all  things  by  the  word 
of  his  power  ;  that  the  angels  of  God  wor- 
shipped him  ;  that  God  had  given  him  a  name 
above  every  name,  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus 
every  knee  should  bow,'  Heb.  i.  3.  6. 

He  reminded  them  of  their  unworthy  treat- 
ment of  Jesus  Christ ;  of  their  eager  outcries 
for  his  death  ;  of  their  repeated  shoutings, 
'  Away  with  him,  away  with  him,  crucify  him, 
crucify  him,'  Lul^e  xxiii.  18.  21 ;  of  their  bar- 
barous insults,  '  He  saved  others,  let  him  save 
himself,'  ver.  35;  of  the  crown  of  thorns,  the 
scarlet  robe,  the  ridiculous  sceptre,  and  all 
other  cruel  circumstances  of  his  sufferings  and 
death  ;  and  the  whole  taught  them  the  guilt  of 
their  parricide.  The  whole  was  an  ocean  of 
terror,  and  each  reflection  a  wave,  that  over- 
whelmed, distorted,  and  distressed  their  souls. 

V.  In  fine,  we  may  remark  in  the  sermon  of 
St.  Peter,  denunciations  of  divine  vengeance. 
The  most  effectual  mean  for  the  conversion 
of  sinners,  that  which  St.  Paul  so"  success- 
fully employed,  is  terror,  2  Cor.  v.  11.  St. 
Peter  was  too  well  acquainted  with  the  obdu- 
racy of  his  auditors  not  to  avail  himself  of  this 
motive.  People,  who  had  imbrued  their  hands 
in  the  blood  of  a  personage  so  august,  want- 
ed this  mean.  In  order  to  attack  them  with 
any  probability  of  success,  it  was  necessary 


Ser.  XXII.] 


THE  HOLY  SPIRIT. 


2J3 


to  shoot '  the  arrows  of  the  Almighty*  at  them, 
and  to  '  set  tiie  terrors  of  God  in  array 
•gainst  them,'  Job  vi.  •!.  St.  Peter  described 
to  these  murderers  '  that  great  and  njtable 
day  of  the  Lord,'  ver.  21,  so  famous  ainon^ 
their  prophets,  '  that  day,'  in  which  God 
would  avenge  the  death  of  his  Son,  punish 
the  greatest  of  all  crimes  with  the  greatest 
of  all  miseries,  and  execute  that  sentence 
which  the  Jews  had  denounced  on  themsolves, 
'  His  blood  be  on  us  and  on  our  children,' 
Matt,  xxvii.  25. 

St.  Peter  quoted  a  prophecy  of  Joel,  which 
foretold  that  t'atal  day,  and  the  prophecy  was 
the  more  terrible,  because  one  part  of  it  was 
accomplished  ;  because  the  remarkable  events 
that  were  to  precede  it  v.'ere  actually  come 
to  pass ;  for  the  Spirit  of  God  had  begun  to 
'  pour  out'  his  miraculous  influences  '  upon  all 
ilesh,  young  men  had  seen  visions,  and  old 
men  had  dreamed  dreams  ;'  and  the  formida- 
ble preparations  of  approaching  judgments 
were  then  before  their  eyes.  Herod  the 
Great  had  already  pnt  those  to  a  cruel  deatli 
who  had  raised  a  sedition  on  account  of  his 


Athens  and  Rome ."  Yield  to  our  fishermen 
and  tentmikets.  O  how  powerful  is  tha 
sword  of  tlie  Spirit  in  the  hands  of  our  npos« 
ties!  See  the  executioners  of  Jesus  Christ, 
yet  foaming  with  rage  and  madness  against 
him.  Sec !  they  are  as  ready  to  shed 
the  blood  of  the  disciples,  as  tiiey  were  to 
murder  their  Master.  But  the  voice  of  St. 
Peter  quells  all  their  rage,  turns  the  current 
of  it,  and  causes  those  to  bow  to  the  yoke  of 
Jesus  Christ  who  had  just  before  put  him 
to  death. 

Allow,  my  brethren,  that  you  cannot  re- 
collect the  sermon  of  St.  Peter  without  envy- 
ing those  happy  primitive  Christians,  who 
enjoyed  the  precious  advantage  of  hearing 
such  a  preacher  ;  or  without  saying  to  your- 
selves, such  exhortations  would  have  found 
tiie  way  to  our  hearts,  they  would  have 
aroused  us  from  our  security,  touched  our 
consciences,  and  produced  eftects  which  the 
modern  way  of  preaching  is  incapable  of  pro- 
ducing. 

But,  my  brethren,  will  you  permit  us  to 
ask  you  one  question  ?  Would  you  choose  to 


placing  the  Roman  eagle  on  the  gate  of  Ihe  !  hear  the  apostles,  and  ministers  like  the  apos 
temple.  Already  Pilate  had  set  up  the  Ro-  ties.'  Would  you  attend  their  sermons?  or, 
man  standard  in  Jerusalem,  had  threatened  to  say  all  in  one  word,  do  )'ou  wish  St.  Peter 
all  who  opposed  it  with  death,  and  had  made  '  was  now  in  this  pulpit .'  Tliink  a  little,  before 
a  dreadful  havoc  among  them  who  refused  to  '  y"u  answer  this  question.  Compare  the  taste 
agree  to  iiis  making  an  aqueduct  in  that  city  j  of  this  auditory  with  the  genius  of  the  preach- 
Twenty  thousand  Jews  had  been  already  mas-  ;  er;  your  delicacy  with  that  liberty  of  speech 
sacred  in  Cesarea,  thirteen  thousand  in  Scy-  j  with  which  he  reproved  the  vices  of  his  own 
thopolis,  and  fifty  thousand  in  Alex^mdria.  times.  For  our  parts,  we,  who  think  wo 
Cestius  Gallus  had  already  overwhelmed  Ju-  i  know  you,  we  are  persuaded,  that  no  preacher 


dea  with  a  formidable  army.*  Terrible  har 
bingers  of  that  great  and  notable  day  of  the 
Lord  !'  Just  grounds  of  fear  and  terror  !  The 
auditors  of  St.  Peter,  on  hearing  these  pre- 
dictions, and  on  perceiving  tlieir  fulfilment, 
'  were  pricked  in  their  heart,  and  said,'  to  all 
the  members  of  the  apostolical  collecfe, 
*  Men  and  brethren,  What  shall  we  do  ?' 

Such  was  the  power  of  the  sermon  of  St. 
Peter  over  the  souls  of  his  hearers  !  Human 
eloquence  has  sometimes  done  wonders  wor- 
thy of  immortal  memory.  Some  of  the  an- 
cient orators  have  governed  the  souls  of  the 
most  invincible  hearers,  and  the  life  of  Cicero 
affords  us  an  example.  Ligarius  had  the  au- 
dacity to  make  war  on  Cesar.  Cesar  was  de- 
termined to  make  the  rash  adventurer  a  vic- 
tim to  his  revenge.  The  friends  of  L'garius 
durst  not  interpose,  and  Ligarius  was  on  the 
point,  either  of  being  justly  punished  for  his 
offence,  or  of  being  sacrificed  to  the  unjust 
ambition  of  his  enemy  What  force  could 
control  the  power  of  Cesar .''  But  Cesar  had 
an  adversary,  whose  power  was  superior  to 
his  own.  This  adversary  pleads  for  Ligarius 
against  Cesar,  and  Cesar,  all  invincible  as  he 
■  is,  yields  to  the  eloquence  of  Cicero.  Cicero 
pleads,  Cesar  feels  ;  in  spite  of  himself,  his 
wrath  subsides,  his  hatred  diminishes,  his 
Vengeance  disappears.  The  fatal  list  of  the 
crimes  of  Ligarius,  which  he  is  about  to  pro- 
duce to  the  judges,  falls  from  his  hands,  and 
he  actually  absolves  him  at  the  close  of  the 
oration,  whom,  when  he  entered  the  court,  he 
meant  to  condemn.     But  yield,  ye  orators  of 

lib.  xvii.   cap.   6.  p.  760.  Oxon.  i 
i;.  p.    ,3:.    Da  Bell.  Jud.   lib.  ii. 

2  E 


*  Joseph.  Antia. 
1720.  ,(,id.  lib.  i',/ 
e:ip.  IS.  p.  10S5. 


would  be  less  agreeable  to  you  than  St.  Peter. 
Of  all  the  sermons  that  could  be  addressed  to 
you,  there  could  be  none  that  would  be  re. 
ceived  less  favourably  than  those  which 
should  be  composed  on  the  plan  of  that  which 
this  apostle  preached  at  Jerusalem. 

One  wants  to  find  something  new  in  every 
sermon  ;  and  under  pretence  of  satisfying  his 
laudable  desire  of  improvement  in  knowledge, 
would  divert  our  attention  from  well-known 
vices,  that  deserved  to  be  censured.  Another 
desires  to  be  pleased,  and  would  have  us 
adorn  our  discourses,  not  that  we  may  obtain 
an  easier  access  to  his  heart ;  not  that  we 
may,  by  the  innocent  artifice  of  availing  our- 
selves of  his  love  of  pleasure,  oppose  the  love 
of  pleasure  itself;  but  that  we  may  flatter  a 
kind  of  concupiscence,  which  is  content  to 
sport  with  a  religious  exercise,  till,  when  di- 
vine service  ends,  it  can  plunge  into  more 
sensual  joy.  Almost  all  require  to  be  lulled 
asleep  in  sin:  and,  although  nobody  is  so 
gross  as  to  say.  Flatter  my  wicked  inclina- 
tions, stupify  my  conscience,  praise  my 
crimes,  yet  almost  every  body  '  loves  to  have 
it  so,'  Jer.  v.  31.  A  principle  of,  I  know  not 
what,  refined  security  makes  us  desire  to  be 
censured  to  a  certain  degree,  so  that  the 
slight  emotions  which  we  receive  xnay  servo 
for  a  presumption  that  we  repent,  and  may 
produce  an  assurance,  which  wo  could  not 
enjoy  under  an  apology  for  our  sins.  We 
consent  to  the  touching  of  the  wound,  but  we 
refuse  to  suffer  any  one  to  probe  it.  Leni- 
tives may  be  applied,  but  the  fire  and  the 
knife  must  not  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  putre- 
faction to  malie  a  sound  cuie. 

Ah !  how  disagr'-.eable  to  you  vould   th« 


214 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  REVELATION. 


[Ser.  XXIII. 


sermonB  of  the  apostles  have  been  !  Realize 
them.  Imagine  one  of  those  venerable  men 
ascending  this  pulpit,  after  he  had  been  in 
the  public  places  of  your  resort,  after  lie  had 
been  familiarly  acquainted  with  your  domes- 
tic economy,  after  he  had  seen  through  the 
flimsy  veils  that  cover  some  criminal  in- 
trigues, after  he  had  been  informed  of  certain 
Secrets  which  I  dare  not  even  hint,  and  of 
some  barefaced  crimes  that  are  committed  in 
the  sight  of  the  sun :  would  the  venerable 
man,  think  you,  gratify  your  taste  for  preach- 
ing ?  Would  he  submit  to  the  laws  that  your 
profound  wisdom  tyrannically  imposes  on  your 
preachers?  Would  he  gratify  your  curiosity, 
think  you,  with  nice  discussions  ?  Do  you  be- 
lieve he  would  spend  all  his  time  and  pains 
in  conjuring  you  not  to  despair  ?  Would  he 
content  himself,  think  you,  with  coolly  in- 
forming you,  in  a  vague  and  superficial  man- 
ner, that  you  must  be  mrtuotis  ?  Would  he 
finish  his  sermon  with  a  pathetic  exhortation 
to  you  not  to  entertain  the  least  doubt  about 
your  salvation .'' 

Ah  !  my  brethren,  I  think  I  hear  the  holy 
man,  I  think  I  hear  the  preacher  animated 
with  the  same  spirit,  that  made  him  boldly 
tell  the  murderers  of  Jesus  Christ ;  '  Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  a  man  approved  of  God  among 
you,  by  miracles,  and  wonders,  and  signs,  ye 
have  taken,  and  by  wicked  hands  have  cruci- 
fied and  slain.'  I  think  I  see  St.  Peter,  the 
man  who  was  so  extremely  affected  with  the 
sinful  state  of  his  auditors  ;  the  preacher  who 
exhibited  the  objects  that  he  exposed  in  his 
sermon,  in  that  point  of  view  which  was  most 
likely  to  discover  to  his  auditors  the  enormity 
of  their  actions:  I  think  I  see  him  tearing 
the  miserable  veils  with  which  men  conceal 
the  turpitude  of  their  crimes,  after  they  have 
committed  them. — I  think   I   hear  him  enu- 


merating the  various  excesses  of  this  nation, 
and  saying.  You  I  you  are  void  of  all  sensibil- 
ity, when  we  tell  you  of  the  miseries  of  the 
church,  when  we  describe  those  bloody 
scenes,  that  are  made  up  of  dungeons,  galleys, 
apostates,  and  martyrs.  You  !  you  have  si- 
lently stood  by,  and  suffered  religion  to  be 
attacked  ;  and  have  favoured  the  publication 
of  those  execrable  books  which  plead  for  a 
system  of  impiety  and  atheism,  and  which 
are  professedly  written  to  render  virtue  con- 
temptible, and  the  perfections  of  God  doubt- 
ful. You!  you  have  spent  twenty,  thirty, 
forty  years,  in  a  criminal  neglect  of  religion, 
without  once  examining  whether  the  doc- 
trines of  God,  of  heaven,  and  of  hell,  be  fables 
or  facts.  I  think  I  hear  him  exhort  each  of 
you  to '  save  himself  from  this  untoward  ge- 
neration,' Acts  ii.  40. 

Let  us  throw  ourselves  at  the  feet  of  the 
apostle,  or  rather,  let  us  prostrate  ourselves 
at  the  foot  of  the  throne  of  that  Jesus,  whom 
we  have  insulted  ;  and  who,  in  spite  of  all 
the  insults  that  we  have  offered  him,  still 
calls,  and  still  invites  us  to  repent.  Let  each 
of  us  say  to  him,  as  the  convinced  Saul  said  to 
him  on  the  road  to  Damascus,  '  Lord  !  what 
wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  .'"  Acts  ix.  6.  O  ! 
may  emotions  of  heart  as  rapid  as  words,  and 
holy  actions  as  rapid  as  emotions  of  heart ; 
may  all  we  are,  and  all  we  have,  may  all 
form  one  grand  flow  of  repentance  ;  and  may 
'  the  day  of  salvation,  the  day  of  the  gladness 
of  the  heart,  succeed  that  great  and  notable 
day  of  the  Lord,'  Isa.  Ixix.  8.  Cant.  iii.  2. 
the  distant  prospect  of  which  terrifies  us,  and 
the  coming  of  which  will  involve  the  impeni- 
tent in  hopeless  destruction.  May  God  him- 
self form  these  dispositions  within  us  !  To 
him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever.     Amen. 


SERMON  XXIII. 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  REVELATION. 


Luke   xvii.  27 — 31. 


The  rich  man  said,  I  pray  thee,  father  Abraham,  that  thou  wouldest  send  Lazarus  to  my 
father's  house  ;  for  I  have  five  brethren,  that  he  may  testify  unto  them,  lest  they  also 
come  into  this  place  of  torment.  Abraham  saith  unto  him,  They  have  Moses  and  the  prer- 
phets  ;  let  them  hear  them.  And  he  said,  J^'ay,  father  Abraham  :  but  if  one  icent  unto 
them  from  the  dead,  they  will  repent.  And  he  said  unto  him,  If  they  hear  not  Moses 
and  the  proph  ets,  neither  will  they  be  persuaded,  though  one  rose  from  the  dead. 


'  liET  no  man  say  when  he  is  tempted,  I  am' 
tempted  of  God  :  for  God  cannot  be  tempted 
with  evil,  neither  tempteth  he  any  man.' 
Thus  speaks  St.  James  in  the  first  chapter  of 
his  general  episUe,  ver.  13.  The  apostle  pro- 
poses in  general  to  humble  his  readers  under 
a  sense  of  their  sins,  and  in  particular  to  op- 
pose that  monstrous  error,  which  taxes  God 
with  injustice  by  making  him  the  author  of 
sin.  This  seems  at  first  view  quite  needless, 
at  least,  in  regard  to  us.  God  the  author  of 
Bin !  Odious  supposition  I  So  contrary  to  our 


surest  ideas  of  the  Supreme  Being,  so  opposite 
to  his  law,  so  incompatible  with  the  purity  of 
those  '  eyes,  which  cannot  look  on  iniquity,' 
Hab.  i.  13.  that  it  seems  impossible  it  should 
enter  the  mind  of  man  ;  or,  if  there  were  any 
in  the  time  of  St.  James  who  entertained  such 
an  opinion,  they  must  have  been  monsters, 
who  were  stifled  in  their  birth,  and  who  have 
no  followers  in  these  latter  ages. 

Alas !  my  brethren,  let  us  learn  to  know 
ourselves.  Although  this  notion  seems  re- 
pugnanl  to  our  reason  at  first,  yet  it  is  bit 


Skr.  xxm.] 


THE  SUFFICIENCY   OF  REVELATION. 


215 


too  true,  we  secretly  adopt  it;  we  revolve  it 
in  our  minds ;    and  we  even  avail  ourselves 
of  it  to  excuse  our  corruption  and  ignorance. 
As  the  study  of  truth  requires  leisure   and 
labour,  man,  naturally  indolent  in  matters  of  | 
religion,   usually  avoids  both  ;    and,  being  at  I 
the   same   time  inclined  to  evade  a  charge  of 
guilt,   and  to  justify  his   conduct,    seeks  the  | 
cause  of  his  disorder  in   heaven,    taxes  God  ' 
himself,  and  accuses  him   of  having  thrown  ' 
such  an  impenetrable  veil  over  truth,  that  it  I 
cannot  be  discovered  ;  and  of  having  placed  | 
virtue  on  the    top  of  an  eminence,    so  lofty 
and  so  craggy,  that  it  cannot  be  attained.     It 
is,  therefore,   necessary  to  oppose   that   doc- 
trine against  modern  infidels,  which  the  apos- 
tles opposed  against  ancient  heretics  ;  to  pub- 
lish,  and  to  establish,   in  our  auditories,  the 
maxim  of  St.  James,   '  Let  no  man  say  when 
he  is  tempted,  I  am   tempted   of   God  :    for 
God  cannot  be  tempted  with  evil,   neither 
tempteth  he  any  man. 

To  this  important  end  we  intend  to  direct 
our  meditation  to-day ;  and  to  this  the 
Saviour  of  the  world  directed  the  parable, 
the  conclusion  of  which  we  have  just  now 
read  to  you.  Our  Saviour  describes  a  man 
in  misery,  who,  by  solicithig  Abraham  to  em- 
ploy a  new  mean  for  the  conversion  of  his 
brethren,  tacitly  exculpates  himself,"  and 
seems  to  tax  Providence  with  having  for- 
merly used  only  imperfect  and  improper 
means  for  his  conversion.  Abraham  repri- 
mands his  audacity,  and  attests  the  suffi- 
ciency of  the  ordinary  means  of  grace.  Thus 
speaks  our  evangelist;  'The  rich  man  said, 
I  pray  thee,  father  Abraham,  that  thou 
wouldest  send  Lazarus  to  my  father's  house  ; 
for  I  have  five  brethren  ;  that  he  may  testify 
imto  them,  lest  they  also  come  into  this 
place  of  torment.  Abraham  saitli  unto  him. 
They  have  Moses  and  the  prophets;  let  them 
hear  them.  And  he  said.  Nay,  father  Abra- 
ham :  but  if  one  went  unto  them  from  the 
dead,  they  will  repent.  And  he  said  unto 
him.  If  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  pro- 
phets, neither  will  they  be  persuaded  though 
one  rose  from  the  dead.' 

Before  we  enter  into  a  particular  discus- 
sion of  the  subject,  we  will  make  two  general 
observations,  which  are  the  ground  of  the 
whole  discourse.  The  passage  we  have  read 
to  you  seems  at  first  an  unnatural  association 
of  heterogeneous  ideas :  a  disembodied,  wick- 
ed man,  in  flames!  ver.  24;  a  conversation 
between  a  miserable  man  in  hell,  and  Abra- 
ham ansidst  angels  in  glory  !  compassion  in 
a  damned  soul,  revolving  in  the  horrors  of 
hell !  The  combination  of  these  ideas  does 
not  appear  natural,  and  therefore  they  neces- 
sarily put  us  on  inquiring,  Is  this  a  bare  his- 
tory ?  Is  it  the  relation  of  an  event  that  ac- 
tually came  to  pass,  but  coloured  with  bor- 
rowed imagery,  which  Jesus  Christ,  accord- 
ing to  his  usual  custom,  employed  to  convey 
to  his  hearers  some  important  truth .' 

We  shall  enter  no  further  at  present  into  a 
discussion  of  these  articles  than  the  subject 
before  us  requires.  Whether  the  Lord  nar- 
rate a  real  history,  as  some  pretend,  because 
Lazarus  is  named,  and  because  a  circumstan- 
tial detail  agrees  better  with  real  facts  than 
with  fiction  :  or  whether  the  whole  be  a  para- 


ble, which  seems  not  unlikely,  especially  if, 
as  some  critics  affirm,*  some  ancient  manu- 
scripts introduce  the  passage  with  these 
words,  Jesus  spake  a  parable,  sating, 
'  There  was  a  certain  rich  man,'  and  so  on: 
or  whether,  as  in  many  other  cases,  it  be  a 
mixture  of  real  history,  coloured  with  para- 
bolical simile  :  which  of  these  opinions  soever 
we  embrace  (and,  by  the  way,  it  is  not  of 
any  great  consequence  to  determine  which 
is  the  true  one,)  our  text,  it  is  certain,  can- 
not be  taken  in  a  strict  literal  sense.  It  can- 
not be  said,  either  that  the  rich  man  in  hell 
conversed  with  Abraham  in  heaven,or  that  he 
discovered  any  tenderness  for  his  brethren. 
No,  there  is  no  communication,  my  brethren, 
j  between  glorified  saints  and  the  prisoners 
I  whom  the  vengeance  of  God  confines  in  hell. 
I  The  great  gulf  that  is  fixed  between  them, 
I  prevents  their  approach  to  one  another,  and 
'  deprives  them  of  all  converse  together 
Moreover,  death  which  separates  us  from  all 
the  living,  and  from  all  the  objects  of  our  pas- 
sions, effaces  them  from  our  memories,  and 
detaches  them  from  our  hearts.  And  although 
the  benevolence  of  the  glorified  saints  may 
incline  them  to  interest  themselves  in  the 
state  of  the  mihtant  church,  yet  the  torments 
of  the  damned  exclude  all  concern  from  their 
minds,  except  that  of  their  own  tormenting 
horrors. 

Our  next  observation  is  on  the  answer  of 
Abraham  ;    '  If  they  hear  not  Moses  and  the 
prophets,    neither    will   they   be    persuaded 
though  one  rose    from    the  dead,'     What  a 
paradox !    Who   would   not   be  affected  and 
converted,   on    seeing   one  return  from  the 
other  world  to  attest  the  truth  of  the  gospel  .•' 
Could  tiie  tyrants  of  our  days  see  the  places 
where  Nero,  Dioclesian,  and  Decius,  expiated 
their    cruelties   to   the    primitive  Christians, 
would  they  persist  in  their  barbarities  ?  Were 
that  proud  son,  who  wastes  in  so  much  luxury 
the   wealth  that  his   father    accumulated  by 
his  extortions,  to  behold  his  parent  in  devour- 
ing fire,  would  he  dare  to  abandon  himself  to 
his  stupid  pleasures,  and  to  retain  a  patrimony 
i  which  was  acquired  with  a  curse  ?  This  dif- 
'•  ficulty   is    the   more    considerable,   because 
'  Jesus  Christ   speaks   to   Jews.      The    Jews 
were  less  acquainted  with  the  state  of  souls 
'  afler   death  than  Christians  are.     It   should 
seem,  the  rising  of   a  person  from  the  dead, 
I  by  increasing  their  knowledge  on  that  article, 
I  would  have  been  a  much  stronger  motive  to 
[  piety  than  all  their  ordinary  means  of  revela- 
!  tion. 

I  My  brethren,  this  is  one  of  those  undeniable 
truths  which,  although  some  particular  ex- 
\  ception  may  be  made  to  them,  are  yet  strictly 
verified  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things. 
I  The  precise  meaning  of  our  Saviour,  if  I 
i  mistake  not,  may  be  included  in  tv/o  proposi- 
I  tions,  of  which,  the  one  regards  infidels,  and 
'  the  other  libertines. 

I  First,  The  revelation  that  God  addresses 
j  to  us  has  evidence  of  its  truth  sufficient  to 
!  convince  every  reasonable  creature  who  will 
i  take  the  pains  to  examine  it. 
;  Secondly,  God  has  founded  the  gospel  ex- 
i  hortations  to  virtue  on  motives  the  most  pro- 
:  per  to  procure  obedience. 
'  *  gee  Pr.  Mill's  (iropk  Testament. 


216 


THE  SUFnCIENCT  OF  REVELATION. 


[Ser.  xxm. 


From  these  two  propositions  it  follows,  that  , 
men  have  no  right  to  require  either  a  clearer  i 
revelation,  or  stronger  motives  to  obey  it; 
and  that,  were  God  to  indulge  the  unjust  pre- 
tensions of  sinners  ;  were  he  even  to  con- 
descend to  send  persons  i'r'im  the  dead,  to  at- 
test tile  Irutli  of  the  gospel,  and  to  address 
us  by  new  motives,  it  is  probabl"*,  not  to  say 
certain,  that  the  new  prodigy  would  neither 
effect  the  conviction  of  unbelievers,  nor  the 
conversion  of  libertines.  My  text  is  an  apo- 
logy for  religion,  and  such  I  intend  this  ser- 
mon to  be.  An  apology  for  Christianit3- 
against  the  dilUculties  of  infidels,  and  an 
apology  for  Christianity  against  the  subter- 
fuges of  libertines.  Let  us  endeavour  to  con- 
vince both,  that  he,  who  resists  Mo.^es  and  the 
prophets,  or  rather,  Jesus  Christ,  the  apos- 
tles, and  the  gospel  (for  we  preach  to  a  Chris- 
tian auditory,)  would  not  yield  to  any  evi- 
dence that  might  arise  from  the  testimony  of 
e  person  raised  from  the  dead.  If  the  obscurity 
of  revelation  under  the  Mosaical  economy 
eeems  to  render  the  proposition  in  the  te.xt 
less  evident  in  regard  to  the  Jews,  we  will 
endeavour  to  ren.ove  this  difl^icuity  at  the 
close  of  this  discourse. 

I.  We  begin  with  unbelievers,  and  we  re- 
duce them  to  five  classes.  The  first  consists 
of  stupid  infidels  ;  the  next  of  negligent  infi- 
dels ;  the  third  of  witty  infidels  ;  the  fourth 
is  made  up  of  those  who  are  interested  in  in- 
fidelity ;  and  the  last  we  call  philosopliical  in- 
fidels. We  affirm  that  the  proposition  of 
Jesus  Christ  in  the  text,  that  it  would  not  be 
just,  that,  in  general,  it  would  be  useless,  to 
evoke  the  dead  to  attest  the  truth  of  revela- 
tion, is  true  in  regard  to  these  five  classes  of 
unbelievers, 

I.  We  place  the  stvpid  ivfidel  in  the  first 
rank.  By  a  stupid  infidel  we  mean  a  person, 
whose  genius  is  so  small,  that  he  is  incapa- 
ble of  entering  into  the  easiest  arguments, 
and  of  comprehending  the  plainest  discus- 
sions ;  wliose  dark  and  disordered  mind  per- 
plexes and  enslaves  reason  ;  and  whom  God 
Beems  to  have  placed  in  society  chiefly  for 
the  sake  of  rendering  the  capacities  of  others 
more  conspicuous.  Unbelievers  of  this  kind 
attend  to  the  mysteries  of  Christianity  with 
an  incapacity  equal  to  that  which  they  dis- 
cover m  the  ordinary  affliirs  of  life,  and  ihev 
refuse  to  believe,  because  they  are  incapable 
of  perceiving  motives  of  credibility.  Have 
these  people,  you  will  ask,  no  right  to  require 
a  revelation  more  proportional  to  their  capa- 
cities; And  may  God,  agreeably  to  exact 
rules  of  justice  and  goodness,  refer  them  to 
the  present  revelation .'  To  this  we  have  two 
things  to  answer. 

First,  There  would  be  some  ground  for  this 
pretence,  were  God  to  exact  of  dull  capa- 
cities a  faith  as  great  as  that  which  he  re- 
Suires  of  great,  lively,  and  capable  minds, 
ut  the  scriptures  attest  a  truth  that  per- 
fectly agrees  with  the  perfections  of  God; 
that  is,  that  the  vumher  of  talents,  which 
God  gives  to  mankind ,  will,  regulate  the  ac- 
count which  he  will  require  of  them  in  that 
great  day  when  he  will  come  to  judge  the 
world.  '  As  many  as  have  sinned  without 
law,'  Rom.  ii.  12.  (remember  these  maxims, 
jroo  iaint  and  trembling  consciences;   you 


whose  minds  are  fruitful  in  doubts  and  fears, 
and  who,  after  you  have  made  a  thousand 
laborious  researches,  tremble  lest  you  should 
have  taken  the  semblance  of  truth  for  truth 
itself)  '  As  many  as  have  sinned  without 
law,  shall  also  perish  without  law  ;'  that  is  to 
say,  without  being  judged  by  any  law, 
which  they  have  not  received,  '  That  ser- 
vant, which  knew  his  Lord's  will,  and  pre- 
pared not  himself,  neither  did  according  to 
liis  will,  shall  be  beaten  with  more  stripes, 
than  he  who  knew  it  not.  It  shall  be  more 
tolerable  for  Tyre  and  Sidon  tlian  for  the 
cities  in  which  Jesus  Christ  himself  preached 
his  Gospel,'  Luke  xii.  47;  Matt.  xi.  22.  If 
it  were  granted,  then,  that  such  a  prodigy  as 
the  appearance  of  one  risen  from  the  dead 
would  strike  a  stupid  infidel,  God  is  not 
obliged  to  raise  one  ;  because  he  will  regu- 
late his  judgment,  not  only  by  the  nature  of 
that  revelation  which  was  addressed  to  him, 
but  also  by  that  portion  of  capacity  which 
was  given  him  to  comprehend  it.  I  would 
impress  this  observation  on  those  savage 
souls,  who  act  as  if  they  were  commissioned 
to  dispense  the  treasures  of  divine  justice, 
and  who  are  as  liberal  of  the  judgments  of 
God  as  he  is  of  Ins  eternal  mercy.  No,  my 
brethren,  these  are  not  '  the  saints  who  shall 
judge  the  world,'  1  Cor.  vi.  2  these  are  the 
'wicked  and  slothful  servants,'  who  accuse  i 
their  master  of  '  reaping  where  he  hath  not  \ 
sown,'  Matt,  xxv.24.  The  blessed  God,  who 
is  less  inclined  to  punish  than  to  pardon,  will 
never  impute  to  his  creatures  the  errors  of 
an  invincible  ignorance.  Without  this  con- 
sideration, I  own,  although  I  am  confirmed 
in  believing  my  religion  by  the  clearest  evi- 
dence, yet  my  conscience  would  be  racked 
with  continual  fears,  and  the  innumerable 
experiences  I  have  had  of  the  imperfection  of 
my  knowledge  would  fill  me  with  horror  and 
terror,  even  while  in  the  sinceiest  manner  I 
sliould  apply  my  utmost  attention  to  my  sal- 
vation. 

We  affirm,  in  the  second  place,  that  the  fun- 
damental truths  of    religion  lie   within  the       -m 
reach  of  people    of  the  vicancst  capacities,  if       v 
l.hey   ici.li  take  the  pains  to  examine    them.        1 
Tills  is  one  of  the  bases  of  our  reformation. 
Happy  protestants  !  (by   the  way)  were  you 
always    to  act    consistently    with    your  own 
principles,   if,  either  b}'  an  obstinate   heresy, 
or  by  an  orthodoxy  too  scliolastic,  you  were 
not  almost  always  falling  into   one    of  these 
two  extremes,  either  into  that  of  renouncing 
Christianity,  by   explaining  away  its   funda- 
mental truths  ;  or,  if  I  may  venture  to  speak 
so,   into  that  of  sinking  it,  by  overloading  it 
with  the  embarrassing  disputes  of  the  schools. 

We  say,  then,  that  the  fundamental  points 
of  Christianity  lie  within  tlie  reach  of  the 
narrowest  capacities.  The  Christian  religion 
teaches  us,  that  God  created  the  world.  Does 
not  this  truth,  which  philosophy  has  establish- 
ed on  so  many  abstract  and  metaphysical 
proofs,  demonstrate  itself  to  our  minds,  to  our 
eyes,  and  to  all  our  senses .'  Do  not  the  in- 
numerable objects  of  sense,  which  surround 
us,  most  emphatically  announce  the  existence 
and  the  glory  of  the  Creator .'  The  Chris- 
tian religion  commands  us  to  live  holily. 
Does  not  this  truth  ako  demonstrate  itself.' 


SjiR.  XXIII.] 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  REVELATION. 


217 


Jg  not  the  voice  of  conscience  in  concert 
with  that  of  religion ;  does  it  not  give  evi- 
dence in  favour  of  the  laws  which  religion 
prescribes .'  The  Christian  religion  teaches 
us,  that  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world, 
that  he  lived  among  men,  that  he  died,  that 
he  rose  again,  that  he  gave  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  the  first  heralds  of  the  gospel ;  these  are 
facts,  and  we  maintain  that  these  facts  are 
supported  by  proofs,  so  clear,  and  so  easy, 
that  men  must  be  entirely  destitute  of  every 
degree  of  impartial  reason  not  to  perceive 
their  evidence. 

Farther.  Take  the  controversies  that  now 
subsist  among  Christians,  and  it  will  appear 
that  a  man  of  a  very  moderate  degree  of  sense 
may  distinguish  truth  from  error  on  these 
articles.  For,  my  brethren,  we  ought  not  to 
be  intimidated,  either  at  the  authority,  or 
at  the  characters,  of  those  who  start  difficul- 
ties. The  greatest  geniuses  have  often  main- 
tained the  greatest  absurdities.  It  has  been 
affirmed,  that  there  is  no  motion  in  nature. 
Some  philosophers,  and  philosophers  of  name, 
have  ventured  to  maintain  that  there  is  no 
matter  ;  and  others  have  doubted  of  their  own 
existence.  If  you  determine  to  admit  no  pro- 
positions, that  have  been  denied  or  disputed, 
you  will  never  admit  any.  Consider  modern 
controversies  with  a  cool  impartiality  ;  and 
you  will  acknowledge,  that  an  ordinary  capa- 
city may  discern  the  true  from  the  false  in 
the  contested  points.  A  man  of  an  ordinary  ca- 

!)acity  may  easily  perceive,  in  reading  the 
loly  Scriptures,  that  the  author  of  that  book 
neither  intended  to  teach  us  the  worship  of 
images,  nor  the  invocation  of  saints,  nor 
transubstantiation,  nor  purgatory.  A  mode- 
rate capacity  may  conclude,  that  the  Scrip- 
tures, by  attributing  to  Jesus  Christ  the 
names,  the  perfections,  the  works,  and  the 
worship  of  God,  mean  to  teach  us  that  he  is 
God.  A  moderate  capacity  is  capable  of  dis- 
covering, that  the  same  Scriptures,  by  com- 
paring us  to  the  deaf,  the  blind,  the  dead,  the 
*  things  which  are  not,'  I  Cor.  i.  28,  intend 
to  teach  us  that  we  have  need  of  grace,  and 
that  it  is  impossible  to  be  saved  without  its 
assistance.  Men,  who  have  not  genius  and 
penetration  enough  to  comprehend  these 
truths,  would  not  be  capable  of  determining 
whether  the  attestation  of  one  sent  from  the 
dead  were  inconclusive  or  demonstrative. 
But  infidels  are  rarely  found  among  people 
of  the  stupid  class  ;  their  fault  is,  in  general, 
the  believing  too  much,  and  not  the  credit- 
ing too  little.  Let  us  pass,  then,  to  the  nest 
article. 

2.  We  have  put  into  a  second  class  negli- 
gent infidels  ;  those  who  refuse  to  believe, 
because  they  will  not  take  the  pains  to  exa- 
mine. Let  us  prove  the  truth  of  the  propo- 
sition in  the  te.\t  in  regard  to  them  ;  and  let 
us  show,  that  if  they  resist  ordinary  evidence, 
'  neither  would  they  be  persuaded  though  one 
rose  from  the  dead.' 

Careless  people  are  extremely  rash,  if  they 
require  new  proofs  of  the  truth  of  Christiani- 
ty. If,  indeed,  they  had  made  laborious  re- 
searches ;  if  they  had  weighed  our  arguments; 
if  they  had  examined  our  systems  ;  if,  after 
all  their  inquiries,  they  had  not  been  able  to 
discover  any  tiling  satisfactory  on  the  side  of 


I  religion  ;    if  our   gospel   were    destitute    of 
proof;  if,  notwithstanding  this   defect,   God 
I  would  condemn  them    for  not  believing,  and, 
I  instead    of  proposing  new  arguments,  would 
i  insist   on  their  yielding  to  arguments,  which 
1  neither  persuaded  the  judgment,  nor  affected 
the  heart;  they  would    have  reason  to  com- 
[  plain.     But   how  astonishing  is  the  injustice 
I  and  ingratitude  of  mankind  !     God  has  re- 
vealed himself  to    them    in  the  most  tender 
and  affectionate  manner.     He  has  announced 
I  those  truths,  in  which  they  are  the  mostdeep- 
I  ly  interested,  a  hell,  a  heaven,  a  solemn  alter- 
I  native  of  endless  felicity,  or  eternal   misery. 
He  has  accompanied  these  truths  w  ith  a  thou- 
sand plain   proofs  ;    proofs  of  fact,  proofs  of 
'  reason,  proofs  of  sentiment.     He  has  omitted 
nothing  that  is   adapted  to  the    purposes   of 
convincing  and  persuading  us.     Careless  un- 
believers will  not  deign  to  look  at  these  argu- 
ments ;  they  will  not  condescend  to  dig  the 
field,  in  which  God  has  hid  his  treasure  ;  they 
choose   rather  to   wander   after   a  thousand 
vain  and  useless  objects,  and  to  be  a  burden 
to  themselves  through  the  fatigues  of  idleness, 
than  to  confine  themselves  to  the  study  of  re- 
I  ligion  ;  and,  at   length,   they   complain  that 
1  religion    is   obscure.     They,  who  attest  the 
j  truth    to  you,  are  venerable    persons.     They 
I  tell   you  they    have   read,  weighed,  and  exa- 
i  mined  the  matter,  and  they  offer  to  explain, 
to  prove,  to  demonstrate  it  to  you.     All  thi» 
does   not  signify,  you  will   not  honour  them 
with  your  attention.     They  exhort  you,  and 
assure   you,  that  salvation,  that  your  souls, 
that  eternal  felicitj',  are  articles  of  the  utmost 
importance,   and  require   a  serious  attention. 
It  does  not  signify,  none  of  these  considera- 
tions move  you  ;  and,  as  we  said  just  now, 
you   choose   rather   to   attach  yourselves   to 
trite    and  trifling    affairs  ;  you  choose  rather 
to  spend  your  time  in  tedious  and  insipid  talk  ; 
you  choose  rather    to  exhaust  your  strength 
in    the    insupportable    languors    of  idleness, 
than  to  devote  one  year,  one  month,  one  day, 
of  your  lives  to  the  examination  of  religion  ; 
and  after  you  have  gone  this  perpetual  round 
of  negligence,  you  complain  of  God  ;  it  is  ho 
who    conducts  you  through  valleys  of  dark- 
ness ;  it  is  he  who  leads  you  into  inextricable 
labyrinths  of  illusions  and  doubts  !    Ought  the 
Deity,  then,  to  regulate  his  economy  by  your 
caprices  ;  ought  he  to  humour  your  wild  fan- 
cies and  to  reveal  himself  exactly  in  the  way, 
and  punctually  at  the  time,  which  you  shall 
think  proper  to  prescribe  to  him  .' 

This  is  not  all.  It  is  certain,  were  God  to 
grant  persons  of  this  character  that  indul- 
gence which  the  wicked  rich  man  required ; 
were  God  actually  to  evoke  the  dead  from 
the  other  world  to  reveal  what  was  doing 
there  ;  it  is  very  plain,  they  would  receive  no 
conviction  ;  and  the  same  fund  of  negligence, 
which  prevents  their  adherence  to  religion 
now,  would  continue  an  invincible  obstacle  to 
their  faith,  even  after  it  had  been  confirmed 
in  a  new  and  extraordinary  manner.  This  is 
not  a  paradox,  it  is  a  demonstration.  The 
apparition  in  question  would  require  a  chain 
of  principles  and  consequences.  It  would  be 
liable  to  a  great  number  of  difficulties,  and 
difficulties  greater  than  those  which  are  now 
objected  against  religion.     It  must  be  inquir- 


218 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  REVELATION. 


[Ser.  XXIII. 


ed,  first,  whether  he,  who  saw  the  apparition, 
were  free  from  all  disorder  of  mind  when  he 
saw  it ;  or  whether  it  were  not  the  effect  of 
a  momentary  insanity,  or  of  a  profound  re- 
verie. It  must  be  examined  farther,  whether 
the  apparition  really  came  from  the  other 
world,  or  whether  it  were  not  exhibited  by 
the  craft  of  some  head  of  a  party,  like  those 
which  are  seen  in  monasteries,  like  those 
which  were  rumoured  about  at  the  reforma- 
tion to  impose  on  the  credulity  of  the  popu- 
lace ;  many  instances  of  which  may  be  seen 
in  a  treatise  on  spectres,  written  by  one  of 
our  divines.*  On  supposition  that  it  were  a 
dead  person  sent  from  the  other  world,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  examine,  whether  he 
were  sent  by  God,  or  by  the  enemy  of  our 
salvation,  who,  under  a  pretence  of  reforming 
us,  was  setting  snares  for  our  innocence,  and 
creating  scruples  in  our  minds.  If  it  were 
proved  that  the  vision  came  from  God,  it 
must  still  be  inquired,  whether  it  were  an 
effect  of  the  judgment  of  that  God,  who  judi- 
cially hardens  some,  by  '  sending  them  strong 
delusions,  that  they  should  believe  a  lie,  be- 
cause they  received  not  the  love  of  the  truth,' 
2  Thess.  ii.  2 ;  or  whether  it  were  an  effect 
of  his  grace  condescending  to  smooth  the 
path  of  religion.  All  these  questions,  and  a 
thousand  more  of  the  same  kind,  which  na- 
turally belong  to  this  matter,  would  require 
time,  and  study,  and  pains.  They  would  re- 
quire the  merchant  to  suspend  his  commer- 
cial business,  the  libertine  to  lay  aside  his 
pleasures,  the  soldier  to  quit  for  a  while  his 
profession  of  arms,  and  to  devote  himself  to 
retirement  and  meditation.  They  would  re- 
quire them  to  consult  reason.  Scripture,  and 
history.  The  same  fund  of  carelessness,  that 
now  causes  the  obstinacy  of  our  infidel, 
would  cause  it  then  ;  and  would  prevent  his 
undertaking  that  examination,  which  would 
be  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  determine 
whether  the  apparition  proved  the  truth  of 
that  religion  which  it  attested,  and  whether 
all  the  difnculties  that  attended  it  could  be 
removed.  We  may  then  say  in  regard  to 
idle  infidels,  '  they  have  Moses  and  the  pro- 
phets; let  them  hear  them.  If  they  hear 
not  Moses  and  tlie  prophets,  neither  will  they 
be  persuaded  though  one  rose  from  the  dead.' 
o.  The  same  observations  wliich  we  have 
just  now  made,  in  regard  to  ncgliofcnt  people, 
are  equally  applicable  to  a  third  order  of  per- 
sons, whom  we  have  called  iciUy  infidels, 
and  we  class  them  by  themselves,  only  on  ac- 
count of  their  rank  in  the  world,  and  of  the 
ascendancy  which  they  know  how  to  obtain 
over  the  hearts  of  mankind.  We  denomi- 
nate those  witty  infidels,  who  airreeably  to 
the  taste  of  the  last  age,  have  not  cultivated 
their  genuiscs  with  a  sound  and  rational  phi- 
losophy ;  but  have  made  an  ample  collection 
of  all  the  tinsel  of  the  sciences  (pardon 
this  expression),  and  have  polished,  and  en- 
riched their  fancies  at  the  expenju  of  their 
judgments.  Tiiey  are  quick  at  repartee, 
smart  in  answering;  their  wit  sparkles,  and 
their  railleries  bite  ;  and,  being  infatuated 
with  a  conceit  of  their  own  superiorit}',  they 
dispense   with    those    rules  of  examination, 

*  Laraier. 


in  their  own  favour,  to  which  the  rest  of  man- 
kind are  confined,  and  study  only  to  excel  in 
substituting  jests  for  solid  arguments.  Dis- 
pute as  long  as  we  will  with  a  man  of  this 
character,  we  can  never  obtain  an  exact  an- 
swer. His  first  reply  is  a  bit  of  historical 
erudition.  Next  he  will  quote  one  line  from 
Horace,  and  two  from  Juvenal,  and,  by  elud- 
ing in  this  manner  our  arguments  and  objec- 
tions, he  will  think  himself  the  victor,  be- 
cause he  knew  how  to  avoid  the  combat,  and 
he  will,  therefore,  think  himself  authorized 
to  persist  in  infidelity. 

"The  same  reflections  which  regard  the 
negligent  infidel,  are  appplicable  to  him, 
whom  we  oppose  in  this  article.  It  is  neither 
agreeable  to  the  justice,  nor  to  the  wisdom 
of  God,  to  employ  new  evidence  in  his  favour. 
Not  to  his  justice  ;  for  how  can  a  man  who 
is  profane  by  profession,  a  man  who,  for  the 
sake  of  rendering  himself  agreeable  to  his 
companions,  and  of  procuring  the  reputation 
of  ingenuity,  ridicules  the  most  grave  and 
serious  truths,  declares  open  war  with  God, 
and  jests  with  the  most  sacred  things  :  how 
can  a  man  of  this  character  be  an  object  of 
the  love  of  God.'  Why  should  God  alter 
the  economy  of  his  Spirit  and  grace  in  his 
favour  .'  Neither  is  it  agreeeble  to  his  wis- 
dom :  but,  as  what  we  have  said  on  the  fore- 
going article  may  be  applied  to  this,  we  pass 
to  the  fourth  class  of  unbelievers,  whom  we 
have  denominated  interested  infidels;  infi- 
dels, the  gratifications  of  whose  passions  ren- 
der the  destruction  of  Christianity  necesary 
to  them. 

4.  Infidels  throvgh  depraved  passions,  it 
must  be  granted,  are  very  numerous.  I 
cannot  help  asking,  why,  on  every  other  ar- 
ticle but  that  of  religion,  our  infidels  content 
themselves  with  a  certain  degree  of  evidence, 
whereas  on  this  they  cannot  see  in  the 
clearest  light .''  The  more  we  examine,  the 
clearer  we  perceive,  that  the  reason  origin- 
ates in  the  passions;  other  subjects  either 
very  little,  or  not  at  all,  interest  their  pas- 
sions: these  they  see;  religion  svvays  the 
passions  ;  to  religion  therefore  they  are  blind. 
Whether  the  sun  revolve  around  the  earth, 
to  illuminate  it ;  or  whether  the  earth  re- 
volve around  the  sun,  to  beg,  as  it  ;vere, 
light  and  influence  from  it :  whether  matter 
be  infinitely  divisible  ;  or  whether  there  be 
atoms,  properly  so  called :  whether  there  be 
a  vacuum  in  nature  ;  or  whether  nature  ab- 
hor a  void  :  take  which  side  we  will  of  these 
questions,  we  inaj^  continue  covetous  or  am- 
bitious, imperious,  oppressive,  and  proud. 
Pastors  may  be  negligent,  parents  careless, 
children  disobedient,  triends  faithless.  But 
Vi^hether  there  be  a  God  ;  whether  '  he  hath 
appointed  a  day,  in  which  he  will  judge  the 
world  in  righteousness,'  Acts  xvii.  31 ;  whe- 
ther an  eye,  an  invisible  eye,  watch  all  our 
actions,'and  discover  all  our  secret  thoughts  : 
these  are  questions,  which  shock  our  pre- 
judices, attack  our  passions,  thwart  and  dis- 
concert the  whole  of  our  system  of  cupid- 
ity. 
I  Unbelievers,  whose  passions  are  mterest- 
1  ed  in  infidelity,  are  affected  in  this  manner  ; 
1  and  nothing  can  be  easier  to  prove  than  that 
I  tba  resurrection  of  a  dead  person  would  pro- 


I 


San.  XXIII.] 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF   REVELATION. 


219 


duce  no  conviction  of  truth  in  them.  Enter 
into  your  own  hearts,  my  brethren ;  the 
proof  of  our  proposition  may  be  found  there. 
The  sentiments  of  the  heart  have  a  close 
connexion  with  the  ideas  of  the  mind,  and 
our  passions  resemble  prisms,  which  divide 
every  ray,  and  colour  every  object  with  an 
artificial  hue. 

For  example  :  employ  a  sensible  Christian 
to  reconcile  two  enemies,  and  you  will  admire 
the  wise  and  equitable  manner  in  which  he 
would  refute  every  sophism  that  passion 
could  invent.  If  the  ground  of  complaint 
should  be  exaggerated,  he  would  instantly 
hold  the  balance  of  equity,  and  retrench 
what  anger  may  have  added  to  truth.  If 
the  offended  should  say,  he  has  received  a 
grievous  injury,  he  would  instantly  answer, 
that  between  two  jarring  Christians,  it  is  im- 
material to  inquire,  in  this  case,  the  degree 
of  iniquity  and  irrationality  in  the  offence  ; 
the  immediate  bwiness,  he  would  say,  is  the 
reasonableness  of  forgiveness.  If  the  offend- 
ed should  allege,  that  he  has  often  forgiven, 
he  would  reply,  this  is  exactly  the  case  be- 
tween the  Judge  of  the  world  and  his  offend- 
ing creatures,  and  yet,  he  would  add,  the  in- 
sulting of  a  thousand  perfections,  the  for- 
getting of  a  thousand  favours,  the  falsifying 
of  a  thousand  oaths,  the  violating  of  a  thou- 
sand resolutions,  do  not  prevent  God  from 
opening  the  treasures  of  his  mercy  to  us.  If 
the  complainant  should  have  recourse  to  the 
ordinary  subterfuge,  and  should  protest  that 
he  had  no  animosity  in  his  heart,  only  be  is 
resolved  to  have  no  future  intimacy  with  a 
man  so  odious,  he  would  dissipate  the  gross 
illusion,  by  urging  the  example  of  a  merci- 
ful God,  who  does  not  content  himself  with 
merely  forgiving  us,  but,  in  spite  of  all  our 
most  enormous  crimes,  unites  himself  to  us 
by  the  tenderest  relations.  Lovely  morality, 
my  brethren !  Admirable  effort  of  a  mind, 
contemplating  truth  without  prejudice  and 
passion !  But  place  tiiis  Arbitrator,  who 
preaches  such  a  morality,  in  different  circum- 
stances. Instead  of  a  referee,  make  him  a 
party ;  instead  of  a  mediator  between  con- 
tending parties,  put  him  in  a  place  of  one  of 
them.  Employ  his  own  arguments  to  con- 
vince him,  and,  astonishing  !  he  will  consid- 
er each  as  a  sophism,  for  all  his  arguments 
now  stand  at  the  tribunal  of  a  heart  full  of 
wrath  and  revenge.  So  true  it  is,  that  our 
passions  alter  our  ideas  ;  and  that  the  clear- 
est arguments  are  divested  of  all  their  evi- 
dence, when  they  appear  before  an  interested 
man. 

Do  you  seriousl}'  think,  that  the  divines 
of  the  church  of  Rome,  when  they  dispute 
with  us,  for  example,  on  the  doctrines  of  in- 
dulgences and  purgatory,  do  you  really  think 
they  require  proofs  and  arguments  of  us  ? 
Not  they.  The  more  clearly  we  reason 
against  them,  the  more  furiously  are  they 
irritated  against  us.  I  think  I  see  them  cal- 
culating the  profits  of  their  doctrines  to  them- 
selves, consulting  that  scandalous  book,  in 
which  the  price  of  every  crime  is  rated,  so 
much  for  a  murder,  so  much  for  assassination, 
so  much  for  incest ;  and  finding  on  each 
part  of  the  inexhaustible  revenue  of  the  sins 
of   mankind,  arguments   to   establish   their 


belief.*  Thus  our  interested  infidels  reject 
the  clearest  arguments.  It  is  a  fixed  point 
with  them,  that  the  religion  which  indulges 
their  passions  is  the  best  religion,  and  that 
which  restrains  them  most,  the  worst.  This 
is  the  rule,  this  is  the  touchstone,  by  which 
they  examine  all  things.  The  more  proofs 
we  produce  for  religion,  the  more  we  preju- 
dice them  against  religion  ;  because  the  more 
forcible  our  arguments  are,  the  more  effectual- 
ly we  oppose  their  passions  ;  the  more  we  op- 
pose their  passions,  the  more  we  alienate  them 
from  that  religion  which  opposes  them. 

I  appeal  to  experience.  The  Scripture  af- 
fords us  a  plain  example,  and  a  full  comment, 
in  the  behaviour  of  the  unbelieving  Jews 
who  lived  in  the  time  of  Jesus  Christ.  Je- 
sus Christ  preached  ;  he  condemned  the  pre- 
judices of  the  synagogue  ;  he  subverted  the 
favourite  carnal  systems  of  the  Jews  ;  he  at- 
tacked the  vices  of  their  superiors  ;  he  preach- 
ed against  the  irregularity  of  their  morals; 
he  unmasked  the  hypocritical  Pharisees. 
These  attacks  were  sufficient  to  excite  their 
rage  and  madness  ;  and  they,  being  disposed 
to  gratify  their  anger,  examined  the  doc- 
trine of  Jesus  Christ  only  for  the  sake  of 
finding  fault  with  it.  Jesus  Christ  must  be 
destroyed  ;  for  this  purpose,  snares  must  be 
laid  for  his  innocence,  his  doctrine  must  bo 
condemned,  and  he  must  be  proved,  if  possi- 
ble, a  false  Messiah.  The)"  interrogate  him 
on  articles  of  religion  and  policy  ;  but  Jesus 
Christ  gives  satisfactory  answers  to  all  their 
questions.  They  examine  his  morals ;  but 
every  step  of  his  life  appears  wise  and  good. 
They  shift  his  conversation ;,  but  every  ex- 
pression '  is  always  witli  grace  seasoned 
with  salt,'  Collos.  iv.  6.  None  of  these 
schemes  will  effectuate  their  designs.  The 
man,  say  they,  preaches  a  new  doctrine ; 
if  he  were  sent  of  God,  he  would  produce 
some  proof  of  his  mission :  Moses  and  the 
prophets  wrought  miracles,  Jesus  Christ 
performs  miracles  ;  he  heals  the  sick,  raises 
the  dead,  calms  the  Vv'inds  and  the  waves,  and 
alters  all  the  laws  of  nature.  He  operates 
more  than  enough  to  persuade  impartial 
minds.  But  their  passions  suggest  answers. 
'  This  fellow  doth  not  cast  out  devils,'  say 
they,  '  but  by  Beelzebub,  the  prince  of  the 
devils,'  Matt.  xii.  24.  But  Lazarus,  who 
was  raised  from  the  dead,  and  who  is  now 

*  Mr.  t-'aurin  means  the  tax-bnok  of  the  Roman 
chancery,  wliich  we  hiive  mentioned  in  the  preface 
to  the  1st  vol.  p.  7.  'J'liis  scandalous  book  was 
first  printed  at  Rome  in  1514,  then  at  Cologne  in  1515, 
at  Paris  in  15-0,  and  often  at  otlier  places  since.  It  is 
entitled,  Reirule,  Cunstilut'wncs,  Rcscrvationis  Can- 
ccllarie  S.  Domird  nnnlri  Leoiiis  Pape  decimi,  &c. 

Tliere  we  meet  with  sucli  articles  as  these. 

Absolution  for  killing  one's  father  or  mother  1  du- 
cat— V  carlins. 

Ditto,  For  all  the  acts  of  lewdne.^s  committed  by  a 
clerk — with  a  dispensation  to  be   capable  of  taking 

orders,  and  to  hold  ecclesiastical  benefits,  &c.      

36  tourn.  3  due. 

Ditto,  For  one  who  shall  keep  a  concubine,  with  a 
dispensation  to  take  orders,  &.c. — 21  tour.  5  due.  9  carl. 

As  if  this  traffic  were  not  scandalous  enough  of  it- 
self, it  is  .added,  '  Et  nota  diligenter,  &c.  Take  no- 
tice particularly,  that  sucli  graces  and  dispensations 
are  not  granted  to  the  ]wor  ;  for,  not  having  where- 
with to  pay  the y  cannot  be  comforted. 

The  zeal  of  the  reformers  against  the  church  of 
Rome  ceases  to  appear  intemperate  in  my  eye,  when 
I  consider  these  detestable  enormities. 


220 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  REVELATION. 


ISer.  xxm. 


living  among  you,  speaks  in  favour  of  Jesus 
Christ ;  Lazarus  must  be  made  away  with ; 
he  must  be  a  second  time  laid  in  the  tomb  ; 
all  the  traces  of  the  glory  of  Jesus  Christ 
must  be  taken  away ;  and  that  light  which  is 
already  too  clear,  and  which  will  hereafter 
be  still  clearer,  must  be  extmguislied  lest  it 
should  discover,  expose,  and  perplex  us. 

This  is  a  natural  image  of  a  passionate  in- 
fidel. Passion  blinds  him  to  the  most  evi- 
dent truths.  It  is  impossible  to  convince 
a  man,  who  is  determined  not  to  be  con- 
vinced. One  disposition,  essential  to  the 
knowing  of  truth,  is  a  sincere  love  to  it : 
'  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that 
fear  him,'  Ps.  xxv.  14.  '  If  any  man  will 
do  his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine, 
whether  it  be  of  God,  or  whether  I  speak 
of  myself,'  John  vii.  17.  '  This  is  the  con- 
demnation, that  light  is  come  into  tiie  world, 
and  men  loved  darkness  rather  than  light, 
because  their  deeds  were  evil,'  chap.  iii.   19. 

5.  We  come,  finally,  to  the  philosophical 
infidel ;  to  him,  who,  if  we  believe  him,  is 
neither  blinded  by  prejudices,  nor  prevented 
by  negligence,  nor  infatuated  by  his  imagi- 
nation, nor  beguiled  by  irregular  passions. 
Hear  him.  He  assures  you  the  only  wish, 
that  animates  him,  is  that  of  knowing  the 
truth,  and  that  he  is  resolved  to  obey  it,  find 
it  where  he  will :  but  after  he  has  agitated  a 
thousand  questions,  after  he  has  undertaken 
a  thousand  investigations,  and  consulted  a 
thousand  volumes,  he  has  found  notliing  sa- 
tisfactory in  proof  of  Christianity  ;  in  short, 
he  says  he  is  an  unbeliever  only  because  he 
cannot  meet  with  any  motives  of  belief.  Can 
it  be  said  to  such  a  man,  'neither  wilt  thou 
be  persuaded  though  one  rose  from  thedead  .■" 

We  will  reply  presently.  But  allow  us 
first  to  ask  a  previous  question.  Are  there 
any  infidels  of  this  kind  .''  Is  the  man,  whom 
we  have  described,  a  real,  or  an  imaginary 
being  .'  What  a  question  !  say  you.  What  ! 
can  a  man,  who  devotes  his  whole  life  to 
meditation  and  study,  a  man,  who  has  search- 
ed all  the  writings  of  antiquity,  who  has  dis- 
entangled and  elucidated  the  most  dark  and 
difficult  passages,  who  has  racked  his  inven- 
tion to  find  solutions  and  proofs,  who  is  nour- 
ished and  kept  alive,  if  the  expression  may  be 
used,  with  the  discovery  of  truth  ;  a  man,  be- 
sides, who  seems  to  have  renounced  the 
company  of  the  living,  and  has  not  the  least 
relish  for  even  the  innocent  pleasures  of  so- 
ciety, so  far  is  he  from  running  into  the  gross- 
est diversions ;  can  such  a  man  be  supposed 
to  be  an  unbeliever  for  any  other  reason  than 
because  he  thinks  it  his  duty  to  be  so  .'  Can 
any,  but  rational  motives,  induce  him  to  dis- 
believe .' 

Undoubtedly ;  and  it  would  discover  but 
little  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  were  we 
to  imagine,  either  that  such  an  infidel  was 
under  the  dominion  of  gross  sensual  passions, 
or  that  he  was  free  from  the  government  of 
other,  and  more  refined  passions.  A  desire 
of  being  distinguished ,  a  love  of  fame,the  glory 
of  passing  for  a  superior  genius,  for  one  who 
has  freed  himself  from  vulgar  errors;  these 
are,  in  general,  powerful  and  vigorous  passions, 
and  those  are  usually  tho  grand  springs  of  a 
pretended  philosophical   infidelity.     One  un- 


deniable proof  of  the  truth  of  my  assertion  ia 
his  eagerness  in  publishing  and  propagating 
infidelity.  Now  this  can  proceed  from  no- 
thing but  from  a  principle  of  vainglory.  For 
why  should  his  opinion  be  spread.'  For  our 
parts,  when  we  publish  our  systems,  whether 
we  pubiisii  truth  or  error,  we  have  weighty 
reasons  for  publication.  Our  duty,  we  think, 
engages  us  to  propagate  what  we  believe.  In 
our  opinion,  they  wiio  are  ignorant  of  our 
doctrine  are  doomed  to  endless  misery.  Is 
not  this  sufficient  to  make  us  lif\  up  our 
voices  .'  But  you,  who  believe  neither  God, 
nor  judgment,  nor  heaven,  nor  hell;  what 
madness  inspires  you  to  publish  your  senti- 
ments .'  It  is,  say  you,  a  desire  of  freeing  so- 
ciety from  the  slavery  that  religion  imposes 
on  them.  Miserable  freedom !  a  freedom 
from  imaginary  errors,  that  plunges  us  into 
an  ocean  of  real  miseries,  that  saps  all  the 
bases  of  society,  that  sows  divisions  in  fami- 
lies, and  excites  rebellions  in  states  ;  that  de- 
prives virtue  of  all  its  motives,  all  its  induce- 
ments, all  its  supports.  And  what,  pray,  but 
religion,  can  comfort  us  under  the  sad  catas- 
trophes to  which  all  are  subject,  and  from 
which  the  highest  human  grandeur  is  not 
exempt .-'  What,  but  religion,  can  conciliate 
our  minds  to  the  numberless  afflictions  which 
necessarily  attend  human  frailty .'  Can  any 
thing  but  religion  calm  our  consciences  under 
their  agitations  and  troubles  .■'  Above  all, 
what  can  relieve  us  in  dying  illnesses,  when 
lying  on  a  sick-bed  between  present  and  real 
evils,  and  the  frightful  gloom  of  a  dark  futu- 
rity ?  Ah  !  if  religion,  which  produces  such 
real  efiects,  be  a  deception,  leave  me  in  pos- 
session of  my  deception  ;  I  desire  to  be  de- 
ceived, and  I  take  him  for  my  most  cruel 
enemy  who  offers  to  open  my  eyes. 

But  let  us  give  a  more  direct  answer.  You 
are  a  philosopher.  You  have  examined  reli- 
gion. You  find  nothing  that  convinces  you. 
Difficulties  and  doubts  arise  from  every  part ; 
the  prophecies  are  obscure ;  the  doctrines 
are  contradictory  ;  the  precepts  are  ambigu- 
ous ;  the  miracles  are  uncertain.  You  require 
some  new  prodigy,  and,  in  order  to  your  full 
persuasion  of  the  truth  of  immortality,  you 
wish  some  one  would  come  from  tl)e  dead 
and  attest  it.  I  answer,  if  you  reason  conse- 
quentially, the  motive  would  be  useless,  and, 
having  resisted  ordinary  proofs,  you  ought,  if 
you  reason  consequential!}',  to  refuse  to  be- 
lieve the  very  evidence  which  you  require. 
Let  us  confine  ourselves  to  some  one  article 
to  convince  you  ;  suppose  the  resurrection  o( 
Jesus  Christ.  The  apostles  bore  witness 
that  Jesus  Christ  rose  from  the  dead.  This  is 
our  argument.  To  you  it  appears  jejune  and 
futile,  and  your  undetermined  mind  floats  be- 
tween two  opinions  ;  either  the  apostles,  you 
think,  were  deceived  ;  or  they  deceived  others. 
These  are  your  objections.  Now,  if  either  of 
these  objections  be  well  grounded,  I  affirm 
you  ought  not  to  believe  '  though  one  rose 
from  the  dead'  to  persuade  you. 

The  apostles  were  deceived  you  say.  But 
this  objection,  if  well-grounded,  lies  against 
not  only  one,  but  twelve  apostles ;  not  only 
against  twelve  apostles,  but  against  more 
than  ■  five  hundred  brethren  ;'  not  only 
against  mora  than  "  five  hundred  brethren,'  1 


S2R.   XXIII.] 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  REVELATION. 


221 


/ 


Cor.  XV.  6,  but  against  all  who  attested  the 
miracles  wrought  in  favour  of  the  re.surrec- 
tion  of  Christ :  all  these  persons,  who  in  other 
rases  were  rational,  must  have  been  insane, 
liad  they  thought  they  had  seen  what  they 
had  not  seen,  heard  what  they  had  not  heard, 
conversed  with  a  man  with  whom  tliey  had 
not  conversed,  wroucrht  miracles  which  they 
had  not  wrought.  They  must  be  supposed  to 
have  persisted  in  these  extravagances,  not 
only  for  an  hour,  or  a  day,  but  for  forty  days, 
yea,  for  the  whole  course  of  tiieir  lives. 
Now,  I  demand,  since  an  illusion  produced  a 
persuasion  so  clear  and  full,  how  could  you 
assure  yourself  that  you  was  not  deceived  in 
examining  tiiat  new  evidence  which  you  re- 
quire ?  If  so  many  different  persons  may  be 
justly  taxed  with  absence  of  mind,  or  insanity, 
what  assurance  would  j'ou  have  tliat  you  was 
not  thrown  into  a  disordered  state  of  mind  at 
the  sight  of  an  apparation.' 

Let  us  reason  in  a  similar  manner  on  your 
second  supposition.  If  the  apostles  were  im- 
postors, there  must  have  been  in  the  world 
men  so  contrary  to  all  the  rest  of  their  species, 
as  to  suffer  imprisonment,  punishment,  and 
death,  for  the  support  of  a  falsehood.  This 
absurdit}'  nmst  have  intoxicated  not  only  one 
person,  but  all  the  thousands  who  sealed  the 
gospel  with  their  blood.  The  apostles  must 
have  been  destitute  of  every  degree  of  com- 
mon sense,  if  intending  to  deceive  the  world, 
they  had  acted  in  a  manner  the  least  likely  of 
any  to  abuse  it ;  marking  places,  times,  wit- 
nesses, and  all  otiier  circumstances,  the  most 
proper  to  discover  their  imposture.  Moreover, 
their  enemies  must  have  conspired  with  them 
in  the  illusion.  Jews,  Gentiles,  and  Christians, 
divided  on  every  other  article,  must  have  all 
agreed  in  this,  because  no  one  ever  confuted  : 
What  am  I  saying  .'  No  one  ever  accused  our 
sacred  authors  of  nnposturc,  although  nothing 
could  have  been  easier,  if  they  had  been  im- 
postors. In  one  word,a  thousand  strange  buppo- 
sitionsmust  be  made.  But  I  demand  again,  if 
those  suppositions  have  any  likelihood,  if  God 
have  given  to  falsehood  so  many  characters  of 
truth,  if  Satan  be  allowed  to  act  his  part  so 
dexterously  to  seduce  us,  how  can  you  assure 
yourself  that  God  will  not  permit  the  father 
of  falsehood  to  seduce  you  also  by  an  appari- 
tion .''  How  could  you  assure  yourself  after- 
ward that  he  had  not  done  it  ?  Let  us  con- 
clude, then,  in  regard  to  unbelievers  of  every 
kind,  that  if  the  ordinary  means  of  grace  be  in- 
adequate to  the  production  of  faith,  extraor- 
dinary prodigies  would  be  so  too. 

Let  us  proceed  now,  in  brief,  to  prove,  that 
motives  to  virtue  are  sufficient  to  induce 
men  to  be  virtuous,  as  we  have  proved  that 
motives  of  credibility  are  sufficient  to  con- 
found the  objections  of  infidels. 

We  believe,  say  you,  the  truths  of  religion  : 
but  a  thousand  snares  are  set  for  our  inno- 
cence, and  we  are  betrayed  into  immorality 
and  guilt.  Our  minds  seduce  us.  Examples 
hurry  us  away.  The  propensities  of  our  own 
hearts  pervert  us.  A  new  miracle  would 
•nwalie  us  from  our  indolence,  and  would  re- 
animate our  zeal.  We  have  two  things  to 
answer. 

1.  We  deny  thSjOiFcct  which  you  expect 
ffom  this  apparitioti.    This  miracle  will  be 

3  F 


wrought  either  seldom,  or  frequently.  If  it 
were  wrought  every  day,  it  would,  on  that 
very  account,  lose  all  its'efficacy  ;  and  as  the 
Israelites,  through  a  long  habit  of  seeing  mi- 
racles, were  famiUarized  to  them  till  they  re- 
ceived no  impressions  from  them,  so  it  would 
be  with  you.  One  while  they  saw  '  waters 
turned  into  blood,'  another  they  beheld  the 
•  first-born  of  Egypt  smitten  ;'  now  the  sea 
divided  to  open  a  passage  for  them,  and  then 
the  heavens  rained  bread,  and  rivers  flowed 
from  a  rock  ;  '  yet  they  tempted  and  provoked 
the  most  high  God,  and  kept  not  his  testimo- 
nies," I'g.  Ixxviii.  44.  51.  oti.  You  yourselves 
every  day  see  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  the 
Works  of  nature,  and  the  properties  of  its  ele- 
mentary parts,  a  rich  variety  of  divine  work- 
manship, which,  by  proving  the  existence  of 
tlie  Creator,  demand  the  homage  that  you 
ought  to  render  to  him  ;  and  as  you  see  them 
without  emotions  of  virtue,  so  would  you 
harden  your  hearts  against  the  remonstrances 
of  the  dead,  were  they  frequently  to  rise,  and 
exhort  you  to  repentance. 

Were    the    miracle     wrought    now     and 
then,  wiiat   you   experience  on    other  occa- 
sions would   infallibly  come  to  pass  on  this. 
You  would  be  affected  for  a  moment,  but  th« 
impressions  would  wear  off,  and  you  would 
fall  back  into  your  former  sins.     The  proofs 
of  this  conjecture   are  seen  every  day.     Peo- 
ple who  have  been  often  touched  and  pene- 
trated at  the  sight  of  certain  objects^  have  as 
often  returned  to   their  old   habits  when  the 
power  of  the  charm  has  abated.     Have  j^ou 
never  read  the   heart  of  an   old  miser  at  the 
fimeral  of  one  of  his  own  age  ?    Methinks  f 
hear  the  old  man's  soliloquy  :  '  I  am  full  four- 
score years  of  age,  1  have  outlived  the  time 
which  God  usually  allots  to   mankind,  and  I 
am  now  a  pall-bearer  at  a  funeral.     The  me- 
lancholy torches  are  lighted  ;  the  attendants 
are  all  m  mourning,  the  grave  yawns  for  its 
prey.     For  whom  is  all  this  funeral  pomp  .■' 
What  part  am  I  acting  in  this  traged}'  ?  Shall 
I  ever  attend  another  funeral,   oi:  is  my  own 
already  preparing  .'  Alas  !  if  a  few  remains  of 
life  and  motion  tell  me  I  live,  the  burying  of 
my  old   friend  as.^ures  me   1    must  soon  die. 
The  wrinkles  which  disfigure  my  face  ;  the 
weight  of  years  that  makes  me  stoop  ;  the  in- 
firmities which  impair  my  strength  ;  the  tot- 
tering of  m}'  enfeebled  carcase ;  all  second  the 
voice  of  my  deceased  friend,  and  warn  me  of 
my  approaching  dissolution.     Yet,  what  an\  \ 
about .'  I  am  building  houses,  I  am  amassing; 
money,  I  am  pleasing  myself  Avith  the  hopes 
of  adding-  to  my  capital  this  yeaj,  and  of  in- 
creasing my  income  the  next.     Q  fatal  blind- 
ness !  folly  of  a  heart,  whic'a  avarice  has  ren- 
dered   insatiable !    Ilencei'jttb    I    will   think 
only  about  dying.     I  wil'.go  and  order  my  Mi- 
neral, put  on  my  shro'id,lie  in  my  coffin,  aod 
render  myselfinsenF.ble  to  every  care  except 
that  of  '  dying  the.  doatli  of  the  rio-Iiteoiis,' ' 
Numb,  .xxiii.  10,      Thus  talks  the  old  man  ta 
himself,  as    he    goes   to  the  grave,  and   you 
think,  perhaps,  his  liie  will  resemble  his  re- 
flections, and  that  he  is  going  to  become  char- 
itable, liberal,  and  disinterested.     No,  no,  all 
his  reflections  will    vanish  with  tlie   objects 
that  produced  them,  and  as  soon  as  he  returnsi 
from  the  fuiieral,  he  will  forget  lie  is  mortal. 


2^:22 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  REVELATION 


[Ser.  XXIllf 


in  like  manner,  the  return  of  one  from  the  i  ating   than  the   most  violent  Agonies  herr 


tlcad  would  perhaps  affect  you  on  the  spot 
you  would  make  many  fine  reflections,  and 
form  a  thousand  new  resolutions  -.  but,  when 
the  phantom  had  disappeared,  j'our  depravi- 
ty would  take  its  old  course,  and  all  your  re- 
flections would  evaporate-  This  is  our  first 
answer. 

2.  We   add,  secondly.     A  man   persuaded 
of  the  divinity  of  religion,  a  man  who,  not- 
withstanding that  persuasion,  persists  in  im- 
penitence, a  man  of  this  character  has  carried 
obduracy    to    so  high    a  pitch,  that  it  is   not 
conceivable  any  new  motives  would  alter  him. 
He  is  already  so  guilty,  that  far  from  having 
any  right  to  demand  extraordinar}'  means,  lie 
ought  rather  to  expect  to  be  deprived  of  the 
ordinary  means,  which  he  has  both  received 
and  resisted.    Let  us  dive  into  the  conscience 
of  this  sinner  ;  let  us   for  a  moment  fathom 
the  depth  of  the  human   heart ;  let  us  hear 
liis  detestable  purposes.     '  I  believe  the  truth 
of  religion  ;  I  believe  there  is  a  God  :  God, 
I  believe,   sees   all  my  actions,  and   from  his 
penetration  none  of  my  thoughts  arc  hid ;  I 
believe  he  holds  the  thunder  in  his  hand,  and 
one  act  of  his  will  is  sufficient   to  strike  me 
dead  ;    I   believe    these  truths,  and  they  are 
BO  solemn,  that   I  ought   to  be  influenced  to 
my  duty  by  them.     However,  it  does  not  sig- 
nify, I   will  sin,  although   I  am  in  his  imme- 
diate presence  ;  I  will  '  provoke  the  Lord  to 
jealousy,'    as  if  I  were    '  stronger   than   he,' 
I  Cor.  X.  22,  and  the  sword  that  hangs  over 
my  head,  and  hangs  only  by  a  single  thread, 
shall  convey  no  terror  into   my  mind.     I  be- 
lieve the  truth  of  religion  ;  God  has  for  me, 
I  think,  '  a  love   which  passeth  knowledge  ; 
I  believe   he  gave  me  my  existence,    and  to 
him  I  owe    my  hands,  my  eyes,  my  motion, 
my  life,  my  light;    moreover,   I  believe   he 
gave   me   his   Son,  his  blood,  his  tendercst 
mercy  and  love.     All  these  affecting  objects 
Ought  indeed  to  change  my  heart,  to  make  me 
blush   for  my  ingratitude,  and  to  induce  me 
to  render  him  love  for  love,  life  for  life.     But 
no ;  I    will   resist  all  these  innumerable  mo- 
tives,   I    will   affront   my   benefactor,   I   will 
woimd  that  heart  that  is   filled   with  pity  for 
me,  I  will  '  crucify  the  Lord  of  glory  afresh,' 
Heb.  vi.  6.     If  his  love  trouble  me,  I  will  for- 
get it.     If  my  conscience  reproach  me,  I  will 
stifle  it,  and  sin  with  boldness.     I  believe  the 
truth  of  religion  ;  there  is,  I  believe,  a  heaven, 
a  presence  of  God  in  which  there  '  is  a  fulness 
of  joy  and  pleasure  for  evermore,'  Ps.  xvi.  2. 
The   idea   of  felicity    consummate    in  glory 
ought,  I  must  own,  to  make  me   superior  to 
•worldly  pleasures,  and  I  ought  to  prefer  '  the 
fountain   of  living   waters'  before   my  own 
*  broken  cisterns  that  can  hold  no  water,'  Jer. 
ii.  13,   but  it  docs  not  signify,  I  will  sacrifice 
'  the  things  that  are  not   seen  to  the  things 
that  are  seen,'  2  Cor.  iv.  18,  the  glorious  de- 
lights of  virtue  to  '  the  pleasures  of  sin,'  and 
the  '  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory,' 
Heb.  xi.  25;    2   Cor.   iv.  17,  to  momentary 
temporal  pursuits.     I  believe  the  truth  of  re- 
ligion ;  tiicre  is,  I  believe,  a  hell  for  the  im- 
penitent,  there   are  '  chains  of  darkness,    a 
worm   that   dieth   not,   a   fire    that  is  never 
quenched,'  2  Pet.  ii.  4 ;  Mark  ix.  44.     In  hell, 
I  believe,  there  aie  pains  fur  more  cxcruci- 


worse  than  the  gout  and  the  stone,  less  tole- 
rable than  the  sufferings  of  a  galley-slave, 
the  breaking  of  a  criminal  on  the  wheel,  or 
the  tearing  asunder  of  a  martyr  with  red-hot 
pincers  of  iron.  I  believe  these  things ;  and 
I  am,  I  know,  in  the  case  of  them,  against 
whom  these  punishments  arc  denounced : 
freedom  from  all  tiiese  is  set  before  me,  and 
I  may,  if  I  will,  avoid  '  the  bottomless  abyss/ 
Rev.  ix.  1,  but,  no  matter,  1  will  precipitat» 
myself  headlong  into  the  horrible  gulf  A 
small  pittance  of  reputation,  a  very  little  glo- 
ry, an  inconsiderable  sum  of  mone}',  a  few 
empty  and  deceitful  pleasures,  will  aeive  to 
conceal  those  perils,  the  bare  ideas  of  which 
would  terrify  my  imagination,  and  subvert 
my  designs.  Devouring  worm !  chains  of 
darkness!  everlasting  burnings  I  infernal  spi- 
rits !  fire  !  sulphur  I  smoke  !  remorse  !  rage  1 
madness  !  despair !  idea,  frightful  idea  of  s 
thousand  years,  often  thousand  years,  of  ten 
millions  of  years,  of  endless  revolutions  oi 
absorbing  eternity  !  You  shall  make  no  im- 
pressions on  my  mind.  It  shall  be  my  forti- 
tude to  dare  you,  my  glory  to  afiront  you.' 

Thus  reasons  the  sinner  who  believes,  but 
who  lives  in  impenitence.  This  is  the  heart 
that  wants  a  new  miracle  to  affect  it.  But,  I 
1  demand,  can  you.  conceive  an}'  prodigy  that 
I  can  soften  a  soul  so  hard .''  I  ask,  If  so  many 
motives  be  useless,  can  yoH  conceive  any 
others  more  effectual .''  Would  you  have  God 
attempt  to  gain  an  ascendancy  over  you  by 
means  more  influential .'  Would  you  have 
him  give  you  more  than  immortality,  more 
than  his  Son,  more  than  heaven .'  Would 
you  have  him  present  objects  to  you  more 
frightful  than  hell  and  eternity .' 

We  know  what  you  will  reply.  You  will 
say.  We  talk  fancifully,  and  fight  with  slia- 
dows  of  our  own  creation.  If  the  sinner,  say 
you,  would  but  think  of  these  things,  they 
would  certainly  convert  him  ;  but  he  forgets 
them,  and  therefore  he  is  more  to  be  pitied 
for  his  distraction,  than  to  be  blamed  for  his 
insensibility.  Were  a  person  to  rise  from  the 
dead,  to  recall,  and  to  fix  his  attention,  he 
would  awake  from  his  stupor.  Idle  sophism  I 
As  if  distraction,  amidst  numberless  objects 
that  demand  his  attention,  were  not  the  high- 
est degree  of  insensibility  itself  But  why 
do  I  speak  of  distraction  ?  I  have  now  be- 
fore me  clear,  full,  and  decisive  evidence, 
that  even  while  sinners  have  all  those  objects 
in  full  view,  they  derive  no  sanctifying  influ- 
ence from  them.  Yes,  I  have  made  the  ex- 
periment, and  consequently  my  evidence  it 
undeniable.  I  see  that  all  the  motives  of  love, 
fear,  and  horror,  united,  are  too  weak  to  con 
vert  one  obstinate  sinner.  My  evidences, 
my  brethren,  will  you  believe  it .'  are  your- 
selves. Contradict  me,  refute  me.  Am  I  not 
now  presenting  all  these  motives  to  3'ou  ' 
Do  not  speak  of  distraction,  for  I  look  at  you, 
and  you  hear  me.  I  present  all  these  niotivcB 
to  you  :  this  God,  the  witness,  and  judge  ot 
your  hearts;  these  treasures  of  mercy,  which 
he  opens  in  your  favour ;  this  Jesus,  who, 
amid  the  most  excruciating  agonies,  expired 
for  you.  To  you  we  open  the  kingdom  ot 
heaven,  and  draw  back  all  the  veils  that  hide 
futurity  from  you.  To  you,  to  yoo  we  present 


See.  XXIIL] 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  REVELATION. 


22S 


the  devils  with  their  rage,  hell  with  its  tor- 
ments, eternity  with  its  horrors.  We  con- 
jure you  this  inoment,  by  the  solemnity  of  all 
these  motives,  to  return  to  God.  I  repeat  it 
again,  you  cannot  pretend  distraction  now, 
you  cannot  pretend  forgetfulness  now,  nor 
.can  you  avoid  to-day,  either  the  glory  of  con- 
version, or  the  shame  of  an  impenitence  that 
resists  the  most  solemn  and  pathetic  objects. 
But  is  it  not  true  that  none  of  these  motives 
touch  you  .'  I  mean,  they  do  not  reform  you. 
For  it  does  not  argue  any  piety,  if,  after  we 
?iave  meditated  on  a  subject,  ciiosen  our  sen- 
timents and  our  expressions,  and,  with  an 
assemblage  of  Scripture-imagery,  covered 
the  pleasures  of  paradise,  and  the  horrors  of 
hell,  with  colouring  the  best  adapted  to  exhi- 
bit their  nature,  and  to  affect  yours  ;  I  say, 
it  requires  no  pity  to  feel  a  moving  of  the 
animal  spirits,  a  slight  emotion  of  the  heart. 
You  are  just  as  much  affected  with  a  repre- 
sentation, which,  you  know,  is  fiction,  and 
exhibited  by  actors  in  borrowed  guise ;  and 
you  do  us  very  little  honour,  by  giving  us 
what  you  bestow  on  theatrical  dcclaimers. 
But  is  any  one  of  you  so  affected  with  these 
motives,  as  to  go,  without  delay,  to  make  res- 
titution of  ill-gotten  gain,  to  break  off  an  im- 
pure connexion  .'  I  ask  again.  Can  you  con- 
tradict me  .'  Can  you  refute  me  .'  Alas !  we 
know  what  a  sermon  can  do,  and  we  have 
reason  for  affirming,  that  no  known  motives 
will  change  some  of  our  hearts,  although  we  ' 
do  attend  to  them;  and  for  inferring  this  just 
consequence,  a  thousand  new  motives  would 
be  as  useless  as  the  rest. 

In  this  manner  we  establish  the  truth,  thus 
we  prove  the  sufficiency  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, thus  we  justify  Providence  against  the 
unjust  reproaches  of  infidel  and  impenitent 
sinners,  and  thus,  in  spite  of  ourselves,  we 
trace  out  our  own  condemnation.  For,  since 
we  continvie  some  of  us  in  unbelief,  and 
others  of  us  in  impenitence,  we  are  driven 
either  to  tax  God  with  employing  means  ina- 
dequate to  the  ends  of  instruction  and  con- 
version, or  to  charge  the  guilt  of  not  improv- 
ing them  on  ourselves.  We  have  seen  that 
our  disorders  do  not  flow  from  the  first ;  but 
that  they  actuaUy  do  proceed  from  the  last 
of  these  causes.  Unto  thee,  then,  '  O  Lord  ! 
belongeth  righteousness  ;  but  unto  ug  confu- 
sion of  faces  this  day,'  Dan.  ix.  7. 

Here  we  would  finish  this  discourse,  had 
we  not  engaged  at  first  \fi  answer  a  difficult 
question,  which  naturally  arises  from  our 
te.vt,  and  from  the  manner  in  which  we  have 
discussed  it.  Could  the  Jews,  to  whom  the 
state  of  the  soul  after  death  was  very  little 
known,  be  numbered  among  those  who  would 
'  not  be  persuaded  though  one  rose  from  the 
dead  .'"  We  have  two  answers  to  this  seem- 
ing difficulty. 

1.  We  could  deny  that  notion  which 
creates  tliis  difficulty,  and  affirm,  that  the 
state  of  the  soul  after  death  was  much  better 
understood  by  the  Jews  than  you  suppose. 
We  could  quote  many  passages  from  the  Old 
Testament,  where  the  doctrines  of  heaven 
and  of  hell,  of  judgment  and  of  the  resurrec- 
tion, are  revealed;  and  we  could  show,  that 
the  Jews  were  so  persuaded  of  the  truth  of 
these  doctrines,  that  tiiey  considered  tho  Sad- ; 


ducees,  who  doubted  of  them,  as  sectaries 
distinguished  from  the  rest  of  the  nation. 

But  as  our  strait  limits  will  not  allow  us 
to  do  justice  to  those  articles  by  fully  discuss- 
ing them,  we  will  take  another  method  of 
answering  the  objection. 

2.  The  Jews  had  as  good  evidence  of  the 
divine  inspiration  of  the  Old  Testament  as 
Christians  have  of  the  New.  So  that  it  might 
as  truly  be  said  to  a  Jew,  as  to  a  Christian, 
If  thou  resist  the  ordinary  evidence  of  tlie 
truth  of  revelation,  'neither  wouldest  thou 
be  persuaded  though  one  rose  from  the  dead' 
to  attest  it. 

It  is  questionable,  whether  the  Jevi'ish  re- 
velation explained  tho  state  of  souls  after 
death  so  clearly  that  Jesus  Christ  had  suffi- 
cient grounds  for  his  proposition.  But  were 
we  to  grant  what  this  question  implies  ;  were 
we  to  suppose,  tliat  the  state  of  souls  after 
death  was  as  much  unknown  as  our  querist 
pretends ;  it  would  be  still  true,  that  it  was 
incongruous  with  the  justice  and  wisdom  of 
God  to  employ  new  means  of  conversion  in 
favour  of  a  Jew,  who  resisted  Moses  and  the 
prophets.     Our  proof  follows. 

Moses  and  the  prophets  taught  sublime 
notions  of  God.  They  represented  him  as  a 
Being  supremely  wise,  and  supremely  power- 
ful. Moreover,  Moses  and  the  prophets  ex- 
pressly declared,  that  God,  of  whom  they 
gave  some  sublime  ideas,  would  display  his 
power,  and  his  wisdom,  to  render  those  com- 
pletely happy  who  obeyed  his  laws,  and  them 
completely  miserable  who  durst  affi'ont  his 
authority.  A  Jew,  v.'ho  was  persuaded  on 
the  one  hand,  that  Moses  and  the  prophets 
spoke  on  the  part  of  God  ;  and,  on  the  other, 
that  Moses  and  the  prophets,  whose  mission 
was  unsuspected,  declared  that  God  would 
render  those  completely  happy  who  obeyed 
his  laws,  and  them  completely  miserable  who 
durst  affront  his  authority ;  a  Jew,  who,  in 
spite  of  this  persuasion,  persisted  in  impeni- 
tence, was  so  obdurate,  that  his  conversion, 
by  means  of  any  new  motives,  was  incon- 
ceivable ;  at  least,  he  was  so  culpable,  that 
he  could  not  equitably  require  God  to  em- 
ploy new  means  for  his  conversion. 

What  does  the  gospel  say  more  on  the 
punishments  which  God  will  inflict  on  the 
wicked,  than  Moses  and  the  prophets  said 
(I  speak  on  the  supposition  of  tiiose  who  de- 
ny any  particular  explications  of  the  doctrine 
of  immortality  in  the  Old  Testament).  What 
did  Jesus  Christ  teach  more  than  Moses  and 
the  prophets  taught. ■"  He  entered  into  a 
more  particular  detail ;  he  told  his  hearers^ 
there  was  '  weeping  and  wailmg  and  gnash- 
ing of  teeth  ;  a  worm  that  died  not,  and  a 
fire  that  was  not  quenched.'  But  the  general 
thesis,  that  God  would  display  his  attributes 
in  punishing  the  wicked,  and  in  rewarding 
the  good,  this  general  thesis  was  as  well 
known  to  the  Jews  as  it  is  to  Christians ;  and 
this  general  thesis  is  a  sufficient  ground  for 
the  words  of  the  text. 

The  most  that  can  be  concluded  from  this 
objection  is,  not  that  the  proposition  of  Je- 
sus Christ  was  not  verified  in  regard  to  tho 
Jews,  but  that  it  is  much  more  verified  in  re- 
gard to  Christians;  not  that  the  Jews,  who 
resisted  Moses  and  tiie  prophets,  Vi'cre  not' 


224 


THE  SUFFICIENCY  OF  REVELATION. 


[Ser.  XXIIL 


very  guilty,  but  that  Christians,  who  resist 
tlie  jyrospftl,  ore  much  more  guilty.  Wc 
are  fully  ooiivinced  of  the  trutii  of  this  as- 
snition.  We  wish  your  minds  were  duly  af- 
fected with  it.  To  this  purpose  we  proceed 
to  the  application. 

First,  VVe  address  ourselves  to  infidels  :  O 
lhat  you  would  for  once  seriotisly  enter  into 
the  reasonable  dispositionof  desiring  to  know 
smd  to  obey  the  truth  !  At  least,  examine, 
nnd  see.  If,  after  all  your  pains,  you  can 
find  nothing  credible  in  the  Christian  reli- 
jrion,  we  own  v.-e  are  strangers  to  the  hu- 
man heart,  and  we  must  give  you  up,  as  be- 
longing to  a  species  of  beings  different  from 
ours.  But  what  irritates  us  is  to  see,  that 
among  the  many  infidels,  who  are  endea- 
vouring to  destroy  the  vitals  of  religion, 
there  is  scarcely  one  to  be  found  whose  erro- 
neous principles  do  not  originate  in  a  bad 
heart.  It  is  the  heart  that  disbelieves;  it  is 
the  heart  which  must  be  attacked  ;  it  is  the 
heart  that  must  be  convinced. 

People  doubt  because  they  will  doubt. 
Dreadful  disposition  !  Can  nothing  discover 
thine  enormity  ?  What  is  infidelity  good  for  ? 
By  what  charm  does  it  lull  the  soul  into  a 
willing  ignorance  of  its  origin  and  end.''  If, 
during  the  short  space  of  a  mortal  life,  the  love 
of  independence  tempt  us  to  please  ourselves 
with  joining  his  monstrous  party,  how  dear 
will  the  union  cost  us  when  we  come  to  die  I 

O  !  were  my  tongue  dipped  in  the  gall  of 
celestial  displeasure,  I  would  describe  to  you 
the  state  of  a  man  expiring  in  the  cruel  un- 
certainties of  unbelief;  who  sees,  in  spite  of 
liimself,  yea,  in  spite  of  himself,  the  truth 
of  that  religion,  which  he  has  endeavoured 
to  no  purpose  to  eradicate  from  his  heart. 
j\h!  see!  every  thing  contributes  to  trou- 
l>le  him  now.  '  I  am  dying — I  despair  of  re- 
•^overing — j)hysicians  have  given  me  over — 
the  sighs  and  tears  of  my  friends  are  use- 
less ;  yet  they  have  nothing  else  to  bestow — 
medicines  lake  no  effect — consultations  come 
to  nothing — alas  !  not  you — not  my  little  for- 
<une — the  whole  world  cannot  cure  uie — I 
juust  die — It  is  not  a  preacher — it  is  not  a 
religious  book — it  is  not  a  trifling  declaimer 
— it  is  death  itself  that  preaches  to  me — 
I  feel,  I  know  not  what,  shivering  cold  in 
jny  blood — I  am  in  a  dying  sweat — my  feet, 
my  hands,  every  part  of  my  body  is  wasted 
— I  am  more  like  a  corpse  than  a  living 
body  —  I  am  rather  dead  than  alive — I 
must  die  —  Whither  am  I  going.'  AVhat 
■will  become  of  me  ?  What  will  become 
of  my  body .'  My  God  !  what  a  frightful 
^ipectacle  !  I  see  it  !  The  horrid  torches — the 
dismal  shroud — the  coffin — the  pall — the  toll- 
ing bell — the  subterranean  abode — carcases 
—worms — putrefaction — What  will  become 
of  my  Houl .'  I  am  ignorant  of  its  destiny — I 
am  tumbling  headlong  into  eternal  night-^-my 
infidelity  tells  me  my  soul  is  notjiing  but  a 
portion  of  subtle  matter — another  world  a 
vision — immortality  a  fancy — But  yet,  I  feel, 
,tknow  not  what  that  troubles  my  infidelity 
— annihilation,  terrible  as  it  is,  would  appear 
tolerahlft  to  me,  were  not  the  ideas  of  heaven 
and  hell  to  present  themselves  to  me,  in  spite 
«f  myself— But  I  see  that  heaven,  that  immor- 
tal maiiiion  cf  g-lory  shut  against  mc— 1  see 


it  at  an  immense  distance — I  see  it  at  a  place, 
which  my  crimes  forbid  me  to  enter — I  see 
hell — hell,  which  1  have  ridiculed — it  opens 
under  my  feet — 1  hear  the  horrible  groans  of 
the  damned — the  smoke  of  the  bottomless  pit 
chokes  my  words,  and  wraps  my  thoughts  in 
suffocating  darkness.' 

Such  is  the  infidel  on  a  dying  bed.  This 
is  not  an  imaginary  flight ;  it  is  not  an  arbi- 
trary invention,  it  is  a  description  of  what 
we  see  every  day  in  the  fatal  visits,  to  which 
our  ministry  engages  us,  and  to  which  God 
seems  to  call  us  to  be  sorrowful  witnesses  of 
his  displeasure  and  vengeance.  This  is  what 
infidelity  comes  to.  This  is  what  infidelity 
is  good  for.  Thus  most  Bkej>tics  die,  al- 
though, while  they  live,  they  pretend  to  free 
themselves  from  vulgar  errors.  I  ask  again, 
Wiiat  charms  are  there  in  a  state  that  has 
such  dreadful  consequences?  How  is  it  pos- 
sible for  men,  rational  men,  to  carry  their 
madness  to  such  an  excess.' 

Without  doubt,  it  would  excite  many  mur- 
murs in  this  auditory  ;  certainly  Ave  should 
be  taxed  with  strangely  exceeding  the  mat 
ter,  were  we  to  venture  to  say,  that  many  of 
our  hearers  are  capable  of  carrying  their 
corruption  to  as  great  a  length  as  I  have  de- 
scribed. Well !  we  will  not  say  so.  We 
know  your  delicacy  too  well.  But  allow  us 
to  give  you  a  task.  We  propose  a  problem 
to  the  examination  of  each  of  you. 

Who,  of  two  men,  appears  most  odious  to 
3'ou  .'  One  resolves  to  refiise  nothing  to  his 
senses,  to  gratify  all  his  wishes  without  re- 
straint, and  to  procure  all  the  pleasures  that 
a  worldly  life  can  afford.  Only  one  thought 
disturbs  him,  the  thought  of  religion.  The 
idea  of  an  ofiended  Benefactor,  of  an  angry 
Supreme  Judge,  of  eternal  salvation  neglect- 
ed, of  hell  contemned  ;  each  of  these  ideas 
poisons  the  pleasures  which  lie  wishes  to  pur- 
sue. In  order  to  conciliate  his  desires  with 
his  reniorse,  he  determines  to  try  to  get  rid 
of  the  tJiought  of  religion.  Thus  he  becomes 
an  obstinate  atheist,  for  the  sake  of  becom- 
ing a  peaceable  libertine,  and  he  cannot  sin 
quietly  till  he  has  flattered  himself  into  a  be- 
lief that  religion  is  chimerical.  This  is  the 
case  of  the  first  man. 

The  second  man  resolves  to  refuse  nolhinrr 
to  his  sensual  appetites,  to  gratify  all  his  wish- 
es without  restraint,  and  to  procure  all  the 
pleasures  that  a  worhily  life  can  afford.  The 
same  thought  agitates  him,  the  thought  of 
religion.  The  idea  of  an  offended  Benefactor, 
of  an  angry  Supreme  Judge,  of  an  eternal 
salvation  neglected,  of  hell  contemned,  each 
of  these  ideas  poisons  the  pleasures  which 
he  wishes  to  pursue.  He  takes  a  different 
method  of  conciliating  his  desires  witii  his 
remorse.  He  does  not  persuade  himself  that 
there  is  no  benefactor  ;  but  he  renders  himself 
insensible  to  his  benefits.  He  does  not  flat- 
ter himself  into  the  disbelief  of  a  Supreme 
Judge  ;  but  he  dares  his  majestic  authority. 
He  does  not  think  salvation  a  chimera  ;  but 
he  hardens  his  heart  against  its  attractive 
charms.  He  does  not  question  whetlier  there 
be  a  hell ;  but  he  ridicules  its  torments. 
This  is  the  case  of  the  second  man.  The 
task,  which  we  take  the  liberty  to  assign 
youj  ig  to  e-taminc;  but  to  examine  coolly  and 


Seu.  XXIV.] 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION, 


223 


deliberately,  wliich  of  these  two  men  is  the 
most  guilty. 

Would  to  God,  our  hearers  had  no  other 
interest  in  the  examination  of  this  question 
than  what  compassion  for  the  misery  of 
others  gave  them !  May  the  many  false 
-Christians,  who  live  in  imjienitence,  and 
who  felicitate  themselves  for  not  living  in 
infidelity,  be  sincerely  affected,  dismayed, 
und  ashamed  of  giving  occasion  for  the  ques- 


tion, whether  they  be  not  more  edious  them- 
selves than  those  whom  they  account  the 
most  odious  of  mankind,  I  mean  skeptics 
and  atheists  !  May  each  of  us  be  enabled  to 
improve  the  means  which  God  has  employ- 
ed to  save  its  !  May  our  faith  and  obedience 
be  crowned!  and  may  we  be  adm.itted  with 
Lazarus  into  the  bosom  of  the  Father  of  the 
faithful !  The  Lord  hear  our  prayers  I  To 
him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever.     Amen. 


SERMON     XXIV. 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


1  Cor.  i.  21, 


.y^ter   thai  in   the  wisdom  of  God  the  world  by  loisdom  knew  not  God,  it 
pleased  God  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching  to  save  them  that  believe. 


It  is  a  celebrated  saying  of  TcrtuUian,  my 
brethren,  that  every  mcrhanic  aviong  Chris- 
tians knew  God,  and  could  make  him  known 
to  others.  Tertullian  spoke  thus  by  way  of 
contrast  to  the  conduct  of  the  philosopher 
Thales  towards  Croesus  the  king.  Croesus 
asked  this  philosopher.  What  is  God  .'  Thales 
\hy  llie  way,  some  relate  the  same  story  of 
Simonides),  required  one  day  to  consider  the 
matter,  before  he  gave  his  answer.  When 
one  day  was  gone,  Crossus  asked  him  again, 
Wiiat  is  God .''  Thales  eutrealed  two  days 
to  consider.  When  two  da3's  were  expired, 
the  question  was  proposed  to  him  again  ;  he 
besougi'.t  tlse  king  to  grant  him  four  days. 
After  four  days  he  required  eiglit :  after 
«iglit,  sixteen  ;  and  in  this  manner  he  conti- 
nued to  procrastinate  so  long,  that  the  king, 
iuii>atieiit  at  his  delay,  desired  to  know  the 
reason  of  it.  O  king1  said  Thales,  be  not 
■iisfonished  that  I  defer  my  answer.  It  is  a 
question  in  which  my  insufficient  reason  is 
lost.  The  oftener  I  ask  myself,  What  is 
Goil  ?  the  more  incapable  I  find  myself,  of 
answering.  New  difficulties  arise  every  mo- 
ment, and  my  knowledge  diminishes  as  my 
inquiries  increase. 

Tertullian  hereupon  takes  an  occasion  to 
triumph  over  the  philosophers  of  paganism, 
and  to  make  an  eulogium  on  Christianity. 
Thalfcs,  the  chief,  of  the  wise  men  of  Greece; 
Thales,  who  has  added  the  erudition  of 
Egypt  to  the  wisdom  of  Greece ;  Thales 
cannot  inform  the  king  what  God  is!  The 
meanest  Christian  knows  more  than  he. 
'What  man  knoweth  the  things  of  a  man 
save  the  spirrt  of  a  man  which  is  in  him  : 
even  so  tlie  thiKgs  of  God  knoweth  no  man, 
but  the  Spirit  of  God,'  1  Cor.  ii.  11.  The 
Christian  has  '  more  understanding  than  all 
his  teachers,'  according  to  the  Psalmist,  Ps. 
fxix.  yO  ;  for,  as  far  as  tho  liglit  of  revela- 
tion is  above  that  of  nature,  so  far  is  the 
mf-anest  Christian  above  the  wisest  heathen 
ohilosopher. 
Of  this  superiorityof  knowledge  we  intend 


to  treat  to-day.  This  St.  Paul  had  in  view 
in  the  first  chapters  of  this  epistle,  and  par- 
ticularly in  the  text.  But  in  order  to  a  tho- 
rough knowledge  of  the  apostle's  meaning, 
we  must  explain  his  terms,  and  mark  the  oc 
casion  of  them.  With  this  explication  we 
begin. 

Greece,  of  which  Corinth  was  a  considera- 
ble city,  was  one  of  those  countries  which 
honoured  the  sciences,  and  which  the  scien- 
ces honoured  in  return.  It  was  the  opinion 
there,  that  the  prosperit}'  of  a  state  depended 
as  much  on  the  culture  of  reason,  and  on  the 
establishment  of  literature,  as  on  a  well  disci- 
plined army,  or  an  advantageous  trade ;  and 
that  neither  opulence  nor  grandeur  were  of 
any  value  in  the  hands  of  men  who  were  des- 
titute of  learning  and  good  sense.  In  this, 
they  were  wortiiy  of  emulation  and  praise. 
At  the  same  time,  it  was  very  deplorable  that 
their  love  of  learning  should  often  be  an  oc- 
casion of  their  ignorance.  Nothing  is  more 
common  in  academies  and  universities  (in- 
deed it  is  an  imperfection  almost  inseparable 
from  them)  than  to  see  each  science  alter- 
nately in  vogue  ;  each  branch  of  literature 
becomes  fashionable  in  its  turn,  and  some 
doctor  presides  over  reason  and  good  sense, 
so  that  sense  and  reason  are  iiotliing  without 
his  approbation.  In  St.  Paul's  time,  philoso- 
phy was  in  fasliion  in  Greece  ;  not  a  sound 
chaste  philosophy,  that  always  took  reason 
for  its  guide  (a  kind  of  science,  which  has 
made  greater  progress  in  our  times  than  in 
all  preceding  ages)  ;  but  a  philosophy  full  of 
prejudices,  subject  to  the  authority  of  the 
heads  of  a  sect  which  was  then  niost  in  vogue, 
expressed  politely,  and  to  use  the  language  of 
St.  Paul,  proposed  '  with  tlie  words  which 
man's  wisdom  teachetii,'  1  Cor.  ii.  13.  With- 
out this  philosophy,  and  this  eloquiMicc,  peo- 
ple were  despised  by  tlic  Greeks,  The  apos 
ties  were  very  little  versed  in  these  sciences. 
Tlie  gospel  they  preached  was  formed  upon 
another  plan ;  and  they  who  preached  it 
were  destitute  o2'  t!i8»^  ornamentB :  accord 


22G 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


[Sen.  XXIV. 


ing]y  they  were  treated  by  the  far  greater 
part  witli  contempt.  The  want  of  these  was 
a  great  offence  to  the  Corinthians.  They 
could  not  comprehend,  that  a  doctrine,  which 
came  from  lieaven,  could  be  inferior  to  hu- 
man sciences.  St.  Paul  intended  in  this 
epistle  to  guard  the  Corinthians  against  this 
objection,  and  to  make  an  apology  for  the 
gospel,  and  for  liis  ministry.  The  text  is  an 
abridgment  of  his  apology. 

The  occasion  of  the  words  of  the  te.\t  js  a 
key  to  the  sense  of  each  e.xpression ;  it  ex» 
plains  those  terms  of  the  apostle  which  need 
explanation,  as  %vell  as  the  meaning  of  the 
whole  proposition :  '  After  that  in  the  wisdom 
of  God  the  world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God, 
it  pleased  God,  by  the  foolishness  of  preach- 
ing, to  save  them  that  believe.' 

The  wisdom,  or  the  learnivg,  of  which  St. 
Paul  speaks,  is  philosopliy.  This,  I  think,  is 
incontestable.  The  first  Epistle  to  the  Co- 
rinthians, I  grant,  was  written  to  two  sorts  of 
Christians,  to  some  who  came  from  the  pro- 
fession of  Judaism,  and  to  others  who  came 
from  the  profession  of  paganism.  Some  com- 
mentators doubt  whether,  by  the  2cisr,  of 
whom  St.  Paul  often  speaks  in  this  chapter, 
We  are  to  understand  Jews  or  pagan  philoso- 
phers :  whether  by  wisdom,  we  are  to  under- 
stand the  system  of  the  synagogue,  or  the 
system  of  the  porch.  They  are  inclined  to 
take  the  words  in  the  former  sense,  because 
the  Jews  usually  called  their  divines,  and  phi- 
losophers, wise  men,  and  gave  the  name  of 
icisdom  to  every  branch  of  knowledge.  Theo- 
logy they  called,  wisdom  concerning  God; 
natural  philosophy  they  called,  jtnsdom  con- 
eerning  nature;  astronomy  they  called,  icis- 
dom concerning  the  stars  ;  and  so  of  the  rest. 
But,  although  we  grant  the  truth  of  this  re- 
mark, we  deny  the  application  of  it  here.  It 
seems  very  clear  to  us,  that  St.  Paul,  through- 
out this  chapter,  gave  the  Pagan  philoso- 
phers the  appellation  icise,  which  they  affect- 
iad.  The  verse,  that  follows  the  te.\t,  makes 
this  very  plain :  '  the  Jews  require  a  sign,  and 
the  Greeks  seek  after  wisdom:'  that  is  to  say, 
the  Greeks  are  as  earnestly  desirous  of  philo- 
sophy, as  the  Jews  of  miracles.  By  icisdom, 
jnthe  text,  then,  we  are  to  understand  philo- 
sophy. But  the  more  fully  to  comprehend 
the  meaning  of  St.  Paul,  we  must  define  this 
philosophy  agreeably  to  his  ideas.  Philosophj', 
then, '  is  that  science  of  God,  and  of  the 
chief  good,  which  is  grounded,  not  on  the 
testimony  of  any  superior  intelligence,  but  on 
the  speculations  and  discoveries  of  our  own 
reason.' 

There  are  two  more  expressions  in  our 
text,  that  need  explaining  ;  '  the  foolishness 
of  preaching,'  and  *  them  tJiat  believe  :'  '  after 
that  in  the  wisdom  of  God  the  world  by  wis- 
dom knew  not  God,  it  pleased  God  by  the 
foolishness  of  preaching  to  save  them  that  be- 
lieve.' They  who  believe,  are  a  class  of  peo- 
ple, who  take  a  method  of  knowing  God  op- 
posite to  that  of  philosophers.  Philosophers 
determine  to  derive  all  their  notions  of  God, 
and  of  the  chief  good,  from  their  own  specu- 
lations. Believers,  on  the  contrary  convinced 
efthe  imperfection  of  their  reason,  and  of  the 
narrow  limits  of  their  knowledge,  derive  their 
religious  ideas  Irom  thg  testimony  of  a  superior 


intelligence.  The  superior  intelligence,  whom 
they  take  for  their  guide,  is  J.-f.sus  Christ;  and 
the  testimony,  to  which  they  submit,  is  the  gos- 
pel. Our  meaning  will  be  clearly  conveyed  by  a 
remarkable  passage  of  Tertullian,  who  shows 
the  difterence  between  him,  whom  St.  Paul 
calls  icise,  and  him  whom  he  calls  a  believer. 
On  the  famous  words  of  St.  Paul  to  the  Co- 
lossians,  '  Beware  lest  any  man  spoil  you 
through  philosophy  and  vain  deceit,'  chap.  ii. 
8,  says  this  father  ;  '  St.  Paul  had  seen  at 
Athens  that  liuman  wisdom,  which  cnrtaileth 
and  disguiseth  the  truth.  He  had  seen,  that 
some  heretics,  endeavoured  to  mix  that  wis- 
dom with  the  gospel.  But  what  communion 
hath  Jerusalem  with  Athens .-'  the  church  witii 
the  academy  .''  heretics  with  true  Christians  .' 
Solomon's  porch  is  our  porch.  Wo  have  na 
need  of  speculation,  and  discussion,  after  we 
have  known  Jesus  Christ  and  his  gospel. 
When  we  believe  we  ask  nothing  more  ;  for 
it  is  an  article  of  our  faith,  that  he  who  be- 
lieves, needs  no  other  ground  of  his  faith  thaa 
the  gospel.'     Thus  speaks  Tertullian. 

But  why  does  St.  Paul  call  the  gospel, 'the 
foolishness  of  preaching  ?  '  It  pleased  God  by 
the  foolishness  of  preaching  to  save  them  that 
believe.'  Besides,  he  calls  it, '  the  foolishness 
of  God  :  the  foolishness  of  God  is  v.^iser  than 
men,'  ver.  25.  And  he  adds,  ver.  37. '  God 
hath  chosen  the  foolish  thing  of  the  world  t* 
confound  the  wise.' 

It  is  usual  with  St.  Paul,  and  the  style  is 
not  peculiar  to  him,  to  call  an  object  not  by  a 
name  descriptive  of  its  real  nature,  but  by  a 
name  expressive  of  the  notions  that  are  form- 
ed of  it  in  the  world,  and  of  the  effects  that 
are  produced  by  it.  Now,  the  gospel  being 
considered  by  Jews  and  heathens  as  a  foolish 
system,  St.  Paul  calls  it,  foolishness.  That 
this  was  the  apostle's  meaning  two  pa.ssages 
prove.  '  The  natural  man  receiveth  not  the 
things  of  the  Spirit  of  God  :  for  they  are 
FOOLisHKF.ss  UNTO  HIM,'  cliap.  ii.  14.  You  see, 
then,  in  what  sense  the  gospel  is foolish7iess; 
it  is  so  called,  because  it  appears  so  to  a  natv-r 
ral  man.  Again, '  We  preach  Christ  crucifi- 
ed, unto  the  Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and 
UNTO  THE  Greeks  FOOLISHNESS.'  You  see  iu 
what  sense  the  gospel  is  called  foolishness ; 
it  is  because  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ  cru- 
cified, which  is  the  great  doctrine  of  the  gos- 
pel, was  treated  as  foolishness.  The  histor}' 
of  the  preaching  of  the  apostles  fully  justifies 
our  comment.  The  doctrines  of  the  gospel, 
in  general,  and  that  of  a  God-man  crucified, 
in  particular,  were  reputed  foolish.  '  We  are 
accounted  fools,'  says  Justin  Martyr,  '  for 
giving  such  an  eminent  rank  to  a  crucified 
man,'*  '  The  wise  men  of  tlie  world,'  says  St. 
Augustine,  'insult  us,  and  ask,  W"hero  is 
your  reason  and  intelligence,  when  you  wor- 
ship a  man  who  was  crucified  .''t 

These  two  words,  icisdom  and  foolishness 
being  thus  explained,  I  think  we  may  easily 
understand  the  whole  text.  '  After  that  in  the 
wisdom  of  God  the  world  by  wisdom  knew 
not  God,  it  pleased  God,  by  the  foolishness  of 
preaching,  to  save  them  that  believe.'  To 
know  God  is  a  short  phrase,  expressive  of  an 
idea  of  the  virtues  necessary  to  salvation  ;  it 


*  Apol.  Secund. 

t  Serm.  viii.  de  vetk*  Apost. 


Ser.  XXIV.3 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


m 


is  equal  to  the  term  theology,  that  is,  science 
concerning  God;  a  body  of  doctrine,  contain- 
ing all  the  truths  which  are  necessary  to  sal- 
vation. Agreeably  to  this,  St.  Paul  explains 
the  phrase lo  knoxc  God,  by  the  expression, 
to  be  sated.  '  After  that  in  the  wisdom  of 
God  the  world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God,  it 
pleased  God  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching 
to  save  them  that  believe  :'  and,  a  little  lower, 
%vhat  he  had  called  '  knowing  God,'  he  calls 
'  knowing  the  mind  of  the  Lord,'  chap.  ii.  16, 
that  is,  knowing  that  plan  of  salvation  which 
God  has  formed  in  regard  to  man. 

When  therefore  the  apostle  said,  '  The 
world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God,'  he  meant, 
that  the  heathens  had  not  derived  from  the  | 
light  of  nature  all  the  help  necessary  to  ena- 
ble them  to  form  adequate  notions  of  God, 
and  of  a  worship  suited  to  his  perfections. 
Above  all,  he  meant  to  teach  us,  that  it  ^Vas 
impossible  for  tlie  greatest  philosophers  to 
discover  by  the  light  of  nature  all  the  truths 
that  compose  the  system  of  the  gospel,  and 
particularly  the  doctrine  of  a  crucified  Re- 
deemer. The  accomplishment  of  the  great 
mystery  of  redemption  depended  on  the  pure 
will  of  God,  and,  consequently,  it  could  be 
known  only  by  revelation.  With  this  view, 
he  calls  the  mysteries  cf  revelation  '  things 
Which  eye  hatli  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  but 
which  God  hath  revealed  by  his  Spirit,'  ver. 
1>,  10. 

The  apostle  says,  '  After  the  world  by  wis- 
dom  knew  not  God,  it  pleased   God  to  save 
believers  by  the   foolishness   of   preaching.' 
That  is  to  say,  since  the  mere  systems  of  rea- 
son were  eventually  insufficient  for  the  salva- 
tion of  mankind,  and  since  it  was  impossible 
that  tlieir  speculations  should  obtain  the  true 
knowledge  of  God,  God  took  another  way  to 
instruct  them :  he  revealed  by  preaching  the 
gospel,  what  the  light  of  nature  could  not  dis- 
cover, so  that  the    system   of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  his  apostles,  supplied  all  that  was  want- 
ing in  the  systems  of  the  ancient  philosophers. 
But  it  is  not  in  relation  to  the  ancient  phi- 
losophers only  that  we  mean  to  consider  the 
proposition  in  our  text ;  we  will  examine  it 
also  in  reference  to  modern  philosophy.    Our 
philosophers   know   more  than   all  those    of 
Greece  knew  ;  but  their  science,  which  is  of 
unspeakable  advantage,  while  it  contains  itself 
within  its  proper  sphere,  becomes  a  source  of 
errors  when  it  is  extended  beyond  it.   Human 
reason  now  lodges    itself  in   new  intrench- 
ments,  v^^hen  it  refuses  to  submit  to  the  faith. 
It  even  puts  on  new  armour  to  attack  it,  after 
it  has  invented  new  methods  of  self-defence. 
Under  pretence  that  natural  science  has  made 
greater  progress,  revelation  is  despised.     Un- 
der pretence  that  modern  notions  of  God  the 
Creator  are  purer  than  those  of  the  ancients, 
the  yoke  of  God  the  Redeemer  is  shalcen  off. 
We  are  going  to  employ  the  remaining  part 
of  this  discourse  in  justifying  the  proposition 
of  St.  Paul  in  the  sense  that  we  have  given  it : 
we  are  going  to  endeavour  to  prove,  that  re- 
vealed religion  has  advantages  infinitely  su- 
perior to  natural  religion  :  that  the  greatest 
geniuses  are  incapable  of  discovering  by  their 
own  reason  all  the  truths  necessary  to  salva- 
tion :    and  that  it  displays  the  goodness  of 
God,  not  to  abandon  us  to  tlie  uncertainties 


of  our  own  wisdom,  but  to  moke  us  the  rich 
present  of  revelation. 

We  will  enter  into  this  discussion  by  placing 
on  the  one  side,  a  philosopher,  contemplating 
the  works  of  nature  ;  on  the  other,  a  disciple 
of  Jesus  Christ,  receiving  the  doctrines  of  re- 
velation. To  each  we  will  give  four  subjects 
to  examine  :  the  attributes  of  God ;  the  na- 
ture of  man ;  the  means  of  appeasing  the  re- 
morse of  conscience ;  and  a  future  state. 
From  their  judgments  on  each  of  these  sub- 
jects, evidence  will  arise  of  the  superior  worth 
of  that  revelation,  which  some  minute  philo- 
sophers affect  to  despise,  and  above  which 
they  prefer  that  rough  draught  which  they 
sketch  out  by  their  own  learned  specula- 
tions. 

I.  Let  us  consider  a  disciple  of  natural  re- 
ligion, and  a  disciple  of  revealed  religion j 
meditating  on  the  attributes  of  God.  When 
the  disciple  of  natural  religion  considers  the 
symmetry  of  this  universe ;  when  he  ob- 
serves that  admirable  uniformity,  which  ap- 
pears in  the  succession  of  seasons,  and  in  the 
constant  rotation  of  night  and  day  ;  when  he 
remarks  the  exact  motions  of  the  heavenly 
bodies;  the  flux  and  reflux  of  the  sea,  so 
ordered  that  billows,  which  swell  into  moun- 
tains, and  seem  to  threaten  the  world  with  a 
universal  deluge,  break  away  on  the  shore, 
and  respect  on  the  beach  the  command  of 
the  Creator,  who,  said  to  the  sea, '  Hitherto 
shall  thou  come,  but  no  farther  ;  and  here 
shall  thy  proud  waves  bo  stayed,'  Job  xxxviii. 
11 ;  when  he  attends  to  all  these  marvellous 
works,  he  will  readily  conclude,  that  the 
Author  of  nature  is  a  being  powerful  and 
wise.  But  when  he  observes,  winds,  tem- 
pests and  earthquakes,  which  seem  to  threaten 
the  reduction  of  nature  to  its  primitive  chaos ; 
when  he  sees  the  sea  overflow  its  banks,  and 
bnrst  the  enormous  moles,  that  the  industry 
of  mankind  had  raised  ;  his  speculations  will 
be  perplexed,  he  will  imagine  he  sees  charac- 
ters of  imperfection  among  so  many  proofs  of 
creative  perfection  and  power. 

When  he  thinlisthat  God,  having  enriched 
the  habitable  world  with  innumerable  pro- 
ductions of  infinite  worth  to  the  inhabitant, 
has  placed  man  here  as  a  sovereign  in  a  su- 
perb palace  ;  when  he  considers  how  admira- 
bly God  has  proportioned  the  divers  parts  of 
the  creation  to  the  construction  of  the  human 
body,  the  air  to  the  lungs,  aliments  to  the 
different  humours  of  the  body,  the  medium 
by  which  objects  are  rendered  visible  to  the 
eyes,  that  by  which  sounds  are  commnnicat- 
ed  to  the  ears ;  when  he  remarks  how  God 
has  connected  man  with  his  own  species,  and 
not  with  animals  of  another  kind  ;  how  he 
has  distributed  talents,  so  that  some  requir- 
ing the  assistance  of  others,  all  should  be 
mutually  united  together;  how  he  has  bound 
men  together  by  visible  tie.s,  so  that  one  can- 
not see  another  in  pain  without  a  sympathy 
that  inclines  him  to  relieve  him :  when  the 
disciple  of  natural  religion  meditates  on 
these  grand  subjects,  he  concludes  that  th» 
Author  of  nature  is  a  beneficent  being.  But 
when  he  sees  the  innumerable  miseries  to 
which  men  are  subject ;  when  he  finds  that 
every  creature  which  contributes  to  support, 
contributes  at  tlie  snme  time  to  destroy  ue ; 


S28 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


[Ser.  XX1\ 


when  he  tliinks  that  the  air,  which  assists 
respiration,  conveys  epidemical  diseases,  and 
imperceptible  poisons  ;  that  aliments  which 
nourish  us  are  often  our  bane  ;  that  the  ani- 
mals that  serve  us  often  turn  savage  against 
us  ;  when  he  observes  the  perfidiousness  of 
society,  the  mutual  industry  of  mankind  in 
tormenting  each  other  ;  the  arts  which  they 
invent  to  deprive  one  another  of  life  ;  when 
he  attempts  to  reckon  up  the  innumerable 
maladies  that  consume  us  ;  when  he  considers 
death,  which  bows  the  loftiest  heads,  dissolves 
the  firmest  cements,  and  subverts  the  best 
founded  fortunes  :  when  he  makes  these  re- 
flections, he  will  be  apt  to  doubt,  whether  it 
be  goodness,  or  the  contrary  attribute,  that 
inclines  the  Author  of  our  being  to  give  us 
existence.  When  the  disciple  of  natural  reli- 
gion reads  those  reverses  of  fortune  of  which 
history  furnishes  a  great  many  examples ; 
when  he  sees  tyrants  fall  from  a  pinnacle  of 
grandeur ;  wicked  men  often  punished  by 
their  own  wickedness  ;  the  avaricious  pun- 
ished by  the  objects  of  their  avarice  ;  the  am- 
bitious by  those  of  their  ambition  ;  the  volup- 
tuous by  those  of  their  voluptuousness  ;  when 
he  perceives  that  the  laws  of  virtue  are  so 
essential  to  public  happiness,  that  without 
them  society  would  become  a  banditti,  at 
least,  that  society  is  more  or  less  happy  or 
miserable,  according  to  its  looser  or  closer  at- 
tachment to  virtue  ;  when  he  considers  all 
these  cases,  he  will  probably  conclude,  that 
the  Author  of  this  universe  is  a  just  and  holy 
Being.  But,  when  he  sees  tyranny  establish- 
ed, vice  enthroned,  humility  in  confusion, 
prids  wearing  a  crown,  and  love  to  holiness 
sometimes  exposinj^'  people  to  many  and  in- 
tolerable calamities ;  he  will  not  be  able  to 
justify  God,  amidst  the  darkness  in  which  his 
equity  is  involved  in  the  government  of  the 
world. 

But,  of  all  these  mysteries,  can  one  be  pro- 
posed which  the  gospel  does  not  unfold  ;  or, 
at  least,  is  there  one  on  which  it  does  not 
give  us  some  principles  which  are  sufficient 
to  conciliate  it  with  the  perfections  of  the 
Creator,  how  opposite  soever  it  may  seem  ? 

Do  the  disorders  of  the  world  puzzle  the 
disciple  of  natural  religion,  and  produce 
difficulties  in  his  mind  ?  With  the  principles 
of  the  gospel  I  can  solve  tliem  all.  When  it 
is  remembered,  that  this  world  has  been  de- 
filed by  the  sin  of  man,  and  that  he  is  there- 
fore an  object  of  divine  displeasure  ;  when 
the  principle  is  admitted,  that  the  world  is 
not  now  what  it  was  when  it  came  out  of 
the  hands  of  God ;  and  that,  in  comparison 
with  its  pristine  state,  it  is  only  a  heap  of 
Tuins.the  truly  magnificent,  but  actually  ruin- 
ous heap  of  an  edifice  of  incomparable  beau- 
ty, the  rubbish  of  which  is  far  more  proper 
to  excite  our  grief  for  the  loss  of  its  pri- 
initive  grandeur,  than  to  suit  our  present 
wants.  Wlicn  these  reflections  are  made, 
can  wo  find  any  objections,  in  the  disorders  of 
the  world,  against  the  wisdom  of  our  Creator  .' 

Are  the  miseries  of  man,  and  is  the  fatal 
necessity  of  deatli,  in  contemplation  .''  With 
the  principles  of  the  gospel  I  solve  the  diffi- 
culties which  these  sad  objects  produce  in  the 
mind  of  the  disciple  of  natural  religion.  If 
'he   principk's   of  Christianity  be   admitted, 


if  we  allow  that  the  afflictions  of  good  men 
are  profitable  to  them,  and  that,  in  many 
cases,  prosperity  would  be  fatal  to  them :  if 
we  grant,  that  the  present  is  a  transitory 
state,  and  that  this  momentary  life  will  be 
succeeded  by  an  immortal  state  ;  if  we  recol- 
lect the  many  similar  truths  which  the  gospel 
abundantly  declares  ;  can  we  find,  inhuman 
miseries,  and  in  the  necessity  of  dying,  objec- 
tions  against  the  goodness  of  the  Creator  ? 

Do  tlie  prosperities  of  bad  men,  and  tho 
adversities  of  the  good,  confuse  ovir  ideas 
of  God  .■'  With  the  principles  of  the  gospel 
I  can  remove  all  the  difficulties  which  these 
different  conditions  produce  in  the  mind  of 
the  disciple  of  natural  religion.  If  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  gospel  be  admitted,  if  we  be 
persuaded  that  the  tyrant,  whose  prosperity 
astonishes  us,  fulfils  the  counsel  of  God  ;  if 
ecclesiastical  history  assures  us  that  Herode 
and  Pilates  themselves  contributed  to  the  es- 
tablishment of  that  very  Christianity  wliich 
they  meant  to  destroy  ;  especially,  if  we  ad- 
mit a  state  of  future  rewards  and  punish- 
ments ;  can  the  obscurity  in  which  Provi- 
dence has  been  pleased  to  wrap  up  some  of 
its  designs,  raise  doubts  about  the  justice  of 
the  Creator .' 

In  regard  then  to  the  first  object  of  contem- 
plation, the  perfection  of  the  nature  of  God, 
revealed  religion  is  infinitely  superior  to 
natural  religion  ;  the  disciple  of  the  first 
religion  is  infinitely  wiser  than  the  pupil  of 
the  last. 

II.  Let  us  consider  these  two  disciples  exr 
amining  the  nature  of  man  and  endeavour- 
ing to  know  themselves.  The  disciple  of  na- 
tural religion  cannot  know  mankind  :  lie  can- 
not perfectly  understand  the  nature,  the  obli- 
gations, the  duration  of  man. 

1.  The  disciple  of  natural  religion  can  on- 
ly imperfectly  know  the  nature  of  man,  the 
difference  of  the  two  substances  of  vi'hich  he 
is  composed.  His  reason,  indeed,  may  spe- 
culate the  matter,  and  he  may  perceive  that 
there  is  no  relation  between  motion  and 
thought,  between  the  dissolution  of  a  few 
fibres  and  violent  sensations,  of  pain,  between  J 

an   agitation   of  humours  and  profound  re-         J 
flections  ;  he  may  infer  from  two  different  ef-  ' 

fects,  that  there  ought  to  be  two  different 
causes,  a  cause  of  motion,  and  a  cause  of 
sensation,  a  cause  of  ag'itating  humours,  and 
a  cause  of  reflecting,  that  there  is  a  body, 
and  that  there  is  a  spirit. 

But,  in  my  opinion,  those  philosophers, 
who  are  best  acquainted  with  the  nature  of 
man,  cannot  account  for  two  difficulties, 
that  are  proposed  to  them,  when,  on  the 
mere  principles  of  reason,  they  affirm,  that 
man  is  composed  of  the  two  substances  of 
matter  and  mind.  I  ask,  first,  Do  you  so 
well  understand  matter,  are  your  ideas  of  it 
so  complete,  that  you  can  affirm,  for  certain, 
it  is  capable  of  nothing  more  than  this,  or 
that .'  Are  you  sure  it  implies  a  contradic- 
tion to  affirm,  it  has  one  property  which  ha« 
escaped  your  observation  ?  and,  consequently., 
can  you  actually  demonstrate,  that  the  es- 
sence of  matter  is  incompatible  with  thoughf 
Since,  when  j'ou  cannr)t  discover  the  unioit 
of  an  attribute  with  a  subject,  you  instantly 
conclude,  tliat  two  attributes,  which  seem  t^ 


Seb.  XXIV.] 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


229 


you  to  have  no  relation,  suppose  two  different 
subjects :  and,  since  you  conclude,  that  ex- 
tention  and  thought  compose  two  different 
subjects,  body  and  soul,  because  you  can  dis- 
cover no  natural  relation  between  extent  and 
thought :  if  I  discover  a  tiiird  artribute, 
whicn  appears  to  me  entirely  unconnected 
with  both  extent  and  thought,  I  shall  have 
a  right,  in  my  turn,  to  admit  three  subjects 
in  man ;  matter,  which  is  the  subject  of  ex- 
tent :  mind,  which  is  the  subject  of  thought ; 
and  a  third  subject,  which  belongs  to  the  at- 
tribute that  seems  to  me  to  have  no  relation 
to  either  matter  or  mind.  Now  I  do  know 
such  an  attribute  ;  but  I  do  not  know  to 
which  of  your  two  subjects  I  ought  to  refer 
it :  1  mean  sensation.  I  find  it  in  my  nature, 
and  I  experience  it  every  hour  ;  but  I  am 
altogether  at  a  loss  whether  I  ought  to  attri- 
bute it  to  body  or  to  spirit.  1  perceive  no 
more  natural  and  necessary  relation  between 
sensation  and  motion,  than  between  sensa- 
tion and  thought.  There  are,  then,  on  your 
principle,  three  substances  in  man :  one 
the  substratutn,  which  is  the  subject  of  ex- 
tension ;  another,  which  is  the  subject  of 
thought;  and  a  third,  which  is  the  subject 
of  sensation:  or  rather,  I  suspect  there  is 
only  one  substance  in  man,  which  is  known 
to  me  very  imperfectly,  to  which  all  these 
attributes  belong,  and  which  are  united  to- 
gether, although  I  am  not  able  to  discover 
their  relation. 

Revealed  religion  removes  these  difficul- 
ties, and  decides  the  question.  It  tells  us 
that  there  are  two  beings  in  man,  and,  if  I 
may  express  myself  so,  two  different  men, 
the  material  man,  and  the  immaterial  man. 
The  Scriptures  speak  on  these  principles 
thus :  '  The  dust  shall  return  to  the  earth  as 
it  was  ;'  this  is  the  material  man :  '  The  spir- 
it shall  return  to  God  who  gave  it,'  Eccl. 
xii.  7 ;  this  is  the  immaterial  man.  '  Fear 
not  them_-which  kill  the  body,'  that  is  to  say, 
the  material  man :  '  fear  him  which  is  able 
to  destroy  the  soul,'  Matt.  x.  28,  that  is  the 
immaterial  man.  '  We  are  willing  to  be  ab- 
sent from  the  body,'  that  is,  from  the  material 
man  ;  and  to  be  present  with  the  Lord,'  2 
Cor.  v.  8,  that  is  to  say,  to  have  the  immate- 
rial man  disembodied. '  They  stoned  Stephen,' 
that  is,  the  material  man :  '  calling  upon  God, 
and  saying.  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit,' 
Acts  vii.  59,  that  is  to  say,  receive  the  imma- 
terial man. 

9.  The  disciple  of  natural  religion  can  ob- 
tain only  an  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  obli- 
gations, or  duties  of  man.  Natural  religion 
may  indeed  conduct  him  to  a  certain  point, 
and  tell  him  that  he  ought  to  love  his  bene- 
factor, and  various  similar  maxims.  But  is 
natural  rehgion,  think  you,  sufficient  to  ac- 
count for  that  contrariety,  of  which  every  man 
is  conscious,  that  opposition  between  inclina- 
tion and  obligation  .''  A  very  solid  argument, 
I  grant,  in  favour  of  moral  rectitude,  arises 
from  observing,  that  to  whatever  degree  a 
man  may  carry  his  sin,  whatever  efforts  he 
may  make  to  eradicate  those  seeds  of  virtue 
from  his  heart  which  nature  has  sown  there, 
he  cannot  forbear  venerating  virtue,  and  re- 
coiling at  vice.  This  is  certainly  a  proof  that 
3  G 


the  Author  of  our  being  meant  to  forbid  vice, 
and  to  enjoin  virtue.  But  is  there  no  room  for 
complaint .''  Is  there  nothing  specious  in  the 
following  objections.'  As,  in  spite  of  all  my 
endeavours  to  destroy  virtuous  disj)ositions,  1 
cannot  help  respecting  virtue;  you  infer,  that 
the  Author  of  my  being  intended  I  should  be 
virtuous:  so,  as  in  spite  of  all  my  endeavourd 
to  eradicate  vice,  I  cannot  help  loving  vice, 
have  I  not  reason  for  inferring,  in  my  turn, 
that  the  Author  of  my  being  designed  I 
should  be  vicious  ;  or,  at  least,  that  he  can- 
not justl}-  impute  guilt  to  me  i'or  performing 
those  actions  which  proceed  from  some  prin- 
ciples that  were  born  with  me  .'  Is  there  no 
show  of  reason  in  this  famous  sophism  .-'  Re- 
concile the  God  of  nature  with  the  God  of 
religion.  Explain  how  the  God  of  religion 
can  forbid  what  the  God  of  nature  inspires  ; 
and  how  he  who  follows  those  dictates,  which 
the  God  of  nature  inspires,  can  be  punished 
for  so  doing  by  the  God  of  religion. 

The  gospel  unfolds  this  mystery.  It  attri- 
butes this  seed  of  corruption  to  the  depravity 
of  nature.  It  attributes  the  respect  we  feel 
for  virtue  to  the  remains  of  the  image  of  God 
in  which  we  were  formed,  and  which  can 
never  be  entirely  effaced.  Because  we  were 
born  in  sin,  the  gospel  concludes  that  we 
ought  to  apply  all  our  attentive  endeavours 
to  crai  icate  the  seeds  of  corruption.  And, 
because  the  imyge  of  the  Creator  is  partly 
erased  from  our  hearts,  the  gospel  conclude.'^ 
that  we  ought  to  give  ourselves  wholly  to  the 
retracing  of  it,  and  so  to  answer  the  excel- 
lence of  our  extraction. 

3.  A  disciple  of  natural  religion  can  obtain 
only  an  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  duratioit 
of  man,  whether  his  soul  be  immortal,  or 
whether  it  be  involved  in  tlie  ruin  of  matter. 
Reason,  I  allow,  advances  some  solid  aro-u- 
ments  in  proof  of  the  doctrine  of  the  imnior- 
tality  of  the  soul.  For  what  necessity  is 
there  for  supposing  that  the  soul,  which' is  a 
spiritual,  indivisible,  and  immaterial  being, 
that  constitutes  a  whole,  and  is  a  distinct 
being,  although  united  to  a  portion  of  matter, 
should  cease  to  exist  when  its  union  with  the 
body  is  dissolved  .''  A  positive  act  of  the  Cre- 
ator is  necessary  to  the  annihilation  of  a  sub- 
stance. The  annihilating  of  a  being  that 
subsists,  requires  an  act  of  power  similar  to 
that  which  gave  it  existence  at  first.  Now, 
far  from  having  any  ground  to  believe  that 
God  will  cause  his  power  to  intervene  to  an- 
nihilate our  souls,  every  thing  that  we  know 
persuades  us,  that  he  himself  has  enncraveji 
characters  of  immortality  on  them,  and  that 
he  will  preserve  them  for  ever.  Enter  into 
thy  heart,  frail  creature  !  see,  feel,  consider 
those  grand  ideas,  those  immortal  designs, 
that  thirst  for  existing,  whicli  a  thousand 
ages  cannot  quench,  and  in  these  lines  and 
points  behold  the  finger  of  the  Creator  writ- 
ing a  promise  of  immortality  to  thee.  But, 
how  solid  soever  these  arguments  may  bo, 
however  evident  in  themselves,  and  striking 
to  a  philosopher,  they  are  objectionable,  be- 
cause they  are  not  popular,  but  above  vulgar 
minds,  to  whom  the  bare  terms,  spirituality 
and  existence,  are  entirely  barbarous,  and 
convey  no  meaning  at  all. 


230 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


[Ser.  XXIV. 


Mo?oover,  tbc  union  between  the  operiitions 
of  the  soul,  and  those  of  the  body,  is  so  close, 
that  all  the  philosophers  in  the  world  cannot 
certainly  determine,  whether  the  operations 
of  the  body  ceasing,  the  operations  of  the 
soul  do  not  cease  with  them.  I  see  a  body 
in  perfect  health,  the  mind  therefore  is  sound. 
The  same  body  is  disordered,  and  the  mind  is 
disconcerted  with  it.  The  brain  is  filled,  and 
the  soul  is  instantly  confused.  The  brisker 
the  circulation  of  the  blood  is,  the  quicker  the 
ideas  of  the  mind  are,  and  the  more  extensive 
itp  knowledge.  At  length  death  comes,  and 
diBsolves  all  the  parts  of  the  body  ;  and  how 
difficult  is  it  to  persuade  one's  self  that  the  ] 
soul,  which  WIS  affected  with  every  former 
motion  of  the  body,  will  not  be  dissipated  by 
its  entire  dissolution  ! 

Are  they  the  vulgar  only  to  whom  the  phi- 
losophical arguments  of  the   inmiortality  of 
the  soul  appear   deficient  in  evidence .''    Do  i 
not  superior  geniuses  require,  at  least  an  ex-  | 
planation  of  what  rank  you  assign  to  beasts,  ] 
on  the  principle  that  nothing  capable  of  ideas  I 
and  conceptions  can  be  involved  in  a  dissolu-  I 
tion  of  matter  .'  Nobody  would  venture  to  af-  i 
firm    now,  in    an    assembly  of  philosophers,  : 
what  was   some  time    ago   maintained   with  ; 
great  warmth,  that  beasts  are  mere  self-mov-  ! 
ing  machines.     Experience  seems  to  demon- 
strate the  falsity  of  the  metaphysical  reason- 
ings which  have  been  proposed  in  favour  of 
this  opinion  ;  and  we  cannot  observe  the  ac- 
tions of  beasts  without  being  inclined  to  infer 
one  of  these  tvsro  consequences :    either   the 
spirit  of  man  is  mortal,  like  his  body,  or  the 
souls  of  beasts  are   immortal  like   those   of 
mankind. 

Revelation  dissipates  all  our  obscurities, 
and  teaches  us  clearly,  and  without  any  niay- 
ibe,  that  God  wills  our  immortality.  It  carries 
our  thoughts  forward  to  a  future  state,  as  to  a 
fixed  period,  whither  the  greatest  part  of  the 
promises  of  God  tend.  It  commands  us,  in- 
deed, to  consider  all  the  blessings  of  this  life, 
the  aliments  that  nourish  us,  the  rays  which 
enlighten  us,  the  air  we  breathe,  sceptres, 
crowns,  and  kingdoms,  as  effects  of  the  liber- 
ality of  God,  and  as  grounds  of  our  gratitude. 
But,  at  the  same  time,  it  requires  us  to  sur- 
mount the  most  magnificent  earthly  objects. 
It  commands  us  to  consider  light,  air,  and 
aliments,  crowns,  sceptres  and  kingdoms,  as 
unfit  to  constitute  the  felicity  of  a  soul  crea- 
ted in  the  image  of  the  blessed  God,  1  Tim. 
i.  11,  and  with  whom  the  blessed  God  has 
formed  a  close  and  intimate  union.  It  assures 
us,  that  an  age  of  life  cannrt  fill  the  wish  of 
duration,  v-hich  it  is  the  noble  prerogative  of 
an  immortal  soul  to  form.  It  does  not 
ground  the  doctrine  of  immortality  on  meta- 
physical speculations,  nor  on  complex  argu- 
ments, uninvestigable  by  the  greatest  part  of 
mankind,  and  which  always  leave  some  doubts 
in  the  minds  of  the  ablest  philosophers.  The 
gospel  grounds  the  doctrine  on  the  only 
principle  that  can  support  the  weioht  with 
which  it  is  encumbered.  The  principle  which 
1  mean  is  the  will  of  the  Creator,  who  hav- 
ing created  our  souls  at  first  by  an  act  of  his 
will,  can  either  eternally  preserve  them, 
or  absolutely  annihilate  them,  whether  they 
he  toaterial  or  spiritual,  mortal  or  immortal; 


by  nature.  Thus  the  disciple  of  revealed 
religion  does  not  float  between  doubt  and  as- 
surance, hope  and  fear,  as  the  disciple  of  na- 
ture does.  He  is  not  obliged  to  leave  the 
most  interesting  question  that  poor  mortals 
can  agitate  undecided ;  whether  their  souls 
perish  with  their  bodies,  or  survive  theii* 
ruins.  He  does  not  say,  as  Cyrus  said  to  his 
children :  '  I  know  not  how  to  persuade  my- 
self that  the  soul  lives  in  this  mortal  body, 
and  ceases  to  be  when  the  body  expires,  I  am 
more  inclined  to  think,  that  it  acquires  afler 
death  more  penetration  and  purity.'*  He 
does  not  say,  as  Socrates  said  to  his  judg- 
es :  '  And  now  we  are  going,  I  to  suffer  death, 
and  you  to  enjoy  life.  God  only  knows 
which  is  best.'t  He  does  not  say,  as  Cicero 
said,  speaking  on  this  important  article :  '  I 
do  not  pretend  to  say,  that  what  I  affirm  is  as 
infallible  as  the  Pythian  oracle,  I  speak  only 
by  conjecture.']:  The  disciple  of  revelation, 
authorized  by  the  testimony  of  Jesus  Christ, 
who  '  hath  brought  life  and  immortality  to 
light  through  tlie  gospel,'  2  Tim.  i.  10,  boldly 
affirms,  'Though  our  outward  man  perish, 
yet  the  inward  man  is  renewed  day  by  day. 
We,  that  are  in  this  tabernacle,  do  groan, be- 
ing burdened  ;  not  for  that  we  would  be  un- 
clothed, but  clothed  upon,  that  mortality 
might  be  swallowed  up  of  life.  I  know  whom 
I  have  believed,  and  I  am  persuaded  that  he 
is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed 
to  him,  against  that  day,'  2  Cor.  iv.  16 ;  v.  4  ; 
and  2  Tim.  i.  12. 

III.  We  are  next  to  consider  the  disciple 
of  natural  religion,  and  the  disciple  of  reveal- 
ed religion,  at  the  tribunal  of  God  as  penitents 
soliciting  for  pardon.  The  fonner  cannot 
find,  even  hy  feeling  after  it,  in  natural  reli- 
gion, according  to  the  language  of  St.  Paul, 
Acts  xvii.  27,  the  grand  mean  of  reconcilia- 
tion, which  God  has  given  to  the  Church  ;  I 
mean  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross.  Reason,  in- 
deed, discovers  that  man  is  guilty ;  as  the 
confessions  and  acknowledgments  which  the 
heathens  made  of  their  crimes  prove.  It  dis- 
cerns that  a  sinner  deserves  punishment,  as  the  , 
remorse  and  fear  with  which  their  consciences  I 
were  often  excruciated,  demonstrate.  It  ' 
presumes,  indeed,  that  God  will  yield  to  the 
entreaties  of  his  creatures,  as  their  prayers, 
and  temples,  and  altars  testify.  It  even  goes 
so  far  as  to  perceive  the  necessity  of.satisfy- 
ing  divine  justice  ;  this  their  sacrifices,  this 
their  burnt-offerings,  this  their  human  victims, 
this  tiie  rivers  of  blood  that  flowed  on  their 
altars,  show. 

But  how  likely  soever  all  these  speculations 
may  be,  they  form  only  a  systematic  body 
without  a  head  ;  for  no  positive  promise  of 
pardon  from  God  himself  belongs  to  them. 
The  mystery  of  the  cross  is  entirely  invisible  ; 
for  only  God  could  reveal  that,  because  only 
God  could  plan,  and  only  he  could  execute 
that  profound  relief  How  could  human  rea- 
son, alone,  and  unassisted,  have  discovered 
the  mystery  of  redemption,  when,  alas  !  afler 
an  infallible  God  had  revealed  it,  reason  is 
absorbed  in  its  depth,  and  needs  all  its  submis- 
sion to  receive  it  as  an  article  of  faith  .-' 

*  Xenophon.  Cyrop. 

t  Platoii.  Apol.  Socrat  ad  fin. 

i  Ciceron.  Tusc.  QUKSt.  lib.  U 


Seb.  XXIV.] 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


23i 


But,  that  which  natural  religion  cannot  at- 
tain, revealed  religion  clearly  discovers.  Reve- 
lation exhibits  a  God-man,  dying  lor  the  sins 
of  mankind,  and    setting  grace  before  every 
penitent  sinner ;  grace  for  all  mankind.  The 
Bchools  have  often  agitated  the  questions,  and 
sometimes  very  indiscreetly,  Whether  Jesus 
Christ  died    for   all  mankind,  or  only    for   a 
small  number  .•'     Whether  liis  blood  were  shed 
for  all  who  hear  the  gospel,  or  for  those  only 
who  believe  it  ?     We  will  not  dispute  these 
points  now;    but  we  will  venture  to   affirm, 
that  there  is  not  an  individual  of  all  our  hear- 
ers, who  has  not  a  right  to  say  to  himself.  If 
I  believe,  I  shall  be  saved  ;  I  shall  believe,  if 
I  endeavour  to  believe.     Consequently  every 
individual   has   a  right  to  apply   the  benefits 
of  the  death  of  Christ  to  himself.      The  gos- 
pel reveals  grace,  which   pardons  the  most 
atrocious   crimes,  those  that   have  tlie  most 
latal  influences.     Although  you  have  denied 
Christ  with  Peter,  betrayed  him  with  Judas, 
persecuted  him  with  Saul ;  yet  the  blood  of  a 
God-man  is  sufficient  to  obtain  your  pardon, 
if  you  Jbe    in   the  covenant   of  redemption : 
Grace,  which  is   accessible  at    all  times,    at 
every  instant  of  life.     Wo  be  to  you,  my  bre- 
thren ;    wo  be  to  you,  if  abusing  this  reflec- 
tion, you  delay  your  return  to  God  till  the 
last  moments  of  your   lives,   when  your  re- 
pentance will  be  difficult,  not  to  say  impracti- 
cable and  impossible  I     But  it  is  always  cer- 
tain that  God  every  instant  opens  the  treas- 
ures of  his  mercy,  when  sinners    return  to 
him  by  sincere  repentance;  grace,  capable  of 
terminating  all  the  melancholy  thoughts  that 
are  produced  by   the  fear  of  being  abandoned 
by  God  in  the  midst  of  our  race,  and  of  hav- 
ing the  work  of  salvation  left  imperfect ;  for, 
after  he  has  given  us  a  prese'nt  so  magnifi- 
cent, what  can  he  refuse  ?    '  He   that  spared 
not  his  own   Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for 
us  all,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely 
give  us  all  things.'"    Rom.v^'iii.  32.     Grace, 
so  clearly  revealed  in  our  Scriptures,  tjiatthe 
most  accurate  reasoning,  heresy  the  most  ex- 
travagant, and  infidelity  the  most  obstinate, 
cannot    enervate    its    declarations ;    fsr    the 
death  of  Christ  may  be  considered  in  difier- 
ent  views :  it  is  a  sufficient  confirmation  of 
his  doctrine ;   it  is  a   perfect    pattern   of  pa- 
tience ;  it  is  the  most  magnanimous  degree 
of  extraordinary  excellences  that  can  be  im- 
agined :  but  the  gospel  very  seldom  presents 
it  to  us  in  any  of  these  views,  it  leaves  them 
to  our   own  perception  ;  but  when  it  speaks 
of  his  death,  it  usually  speaks  of  it  as  an  ex- 
piatory  sacrifice.     Need    we    repeat    here  a 
number   of  formal    texts,  and    express  deci- 
sions, on    this   matter  ?    Tiianks  be  to  God, 
wc  are    preacliing   to  a  Christian  auditory, 
who  make   the   death  of  the   Redeemer  the 
foundation  of  faith !     The  gospel,  then,  as- 
sures the  penitent  sinner  of  pardon.     Zcno, 
Epicurus,      Pythagoras,      Socrates,     Porch, 
Academy,  Lycmum,  what  have  you  to  offer 
to  your  disciples  equal  to  this  promise  of  the 
gospel .' 

IV.  But  that  which  principally  displays 
the  prerogatives  of  the  Christian  above  those 
of  the  philosopher  is  an  all-sujjlcient  provi- 
sion against  the  fear  of  death.    A  compari- 


son  between   a  dying  Pagan   and   a  dying 
Christian  will  show  this.    1  consider  a  Pagan, 
in  his  dying-bed,  speaking  to  himself  what 
follows:  '  On  which  side   soever  I  consider 
my  state,  I  perceive  nothing  but  trouble  and 
despair.      If  1    observe    the    forerunners   of 
death,  I  see  awful  symptoms,  violent  sick- 
ness and    intolerable    pain,  which    surround 
my  sick-bed,  and  are  the  first  scenes  of  tho 
bloody  tragedy.     As  to  the  world,  my  dear- 
est objects  disappear  ;  my  closest  connexions 
are  dissolving  ;  my  most  specious  titles  are 
effacing ;  my  noblest  privileges  are  vanish- 
ing away  ;  a  dismal  curtain  falls  between  my 
eyes  and  all  the  decorations  of  the  universe. 
In  regard  to  my  body,  it  is  a  mass  without 
motion  or  life  ;   my  tongue  is  about  to  be 
condemned   to  eternal  silence ;  my   eyes  to 
perpetual   darkness  ;  all  the   organs   of  my 
body  to  entire  dissolution  ;  and  tlio   misera- 
ble   remains  of  my  carcass  to  lodge  in  the 
grave,  and  to  become  food  for  worms.     If  I. 
consider  my  soul,  I  scarcely  know  whether 
it  be  immortal  ;  and  could  I  demonstrate  it>! 
natural  immortality,  I  should  not  bo   able  to 
say,  whether  my  Creator  would  display  hi« 
attributes  in  preserving,  or  in  destroying  it ; 
wJiether  my   wishes  for  immortality  be  tho 
dictates  of  nature,  or  the    language  of  sin. 
If  I   consider  ray  past  life.  I  have  a  witnes.s 
within   me,  attesting  that   my  practice   has 
been  less  than  my  knowledge,  how  small  so- 
ever the  latter  has  been  ;  and  that  the  abun- 
dant depravity   of  my  lieart  has    thickened 
the  darkness  of  my   mind.     If  I  consider  fii- 
turiity,    I   think   I   discover,    through   many 
tliick  clouds,  a  future   state  ;  my  reason  sug- 
gests that  the  Author  of  nature  has  not  giv- 
en me  a  soul  so  sublime   in  thought,  and  so 
expansive  in   desire,  merely  to  move  in  this 
little  orb   for  a  moment :  but  this  is  nothing 
but  conjecture  ;  and  if  there  be  another  eco- 
nomy after   this,  should  I  be  less  misei'able 
than   I  am  here  ?    One   moment  I  hope  for 
annihilation,  the  next  I  s.hudder  with  the  fear 
of  being  amiihilatcd  ;  my  thoughts  and   de- 
sires are   at  war  with  each  otlier  ;  they  rise, 
they  resist,  thej'  destroy  one  another.'    Such 
is  the  cl3'ing  heathen.     If  a  few  examples  of 
those  who  have  died  otherwise  be  adduced, 
they    ought   not   to   be    urged   in   evidence 
against    what  wo   have  advanced  ;    for  they 
are  rare,  and  very  probably  deceptive,  their 
outward  tranquillity  being    only   a   conceal- 
ment   of    trouble    within.     Trouble    is    the 
greater   for  confinement  within,  and  for  au 
affected  appearance  without.     As  we  ought 
not  to  believe   that  philosophy  has  rendered 
m.cn  insensible   of  pain,  because  some  philo- 
sopliers  have  inaintaincd  that  pain  is  no  evil, 
and  have  seemed  to  triumph  over  it;  so  nei- 
ther ought  we  to  believe  that  it  has  disarmed 
death   in  regard  to  the  disciples  of  natural 
religion,   because    some   have   afiirmed    that 
death   is  not  an  object  of  fear.     After  all,  if 
some   Pagans  enjoyed  a  real  tranquillity  at 
death,   it   was   a   groundless   tranquillity  to 
which  reason  contributed  notliing  at  all. 

O  !  how  differently  do  Christians  die ! 
How  does  revealed  religion  triumph  over  the 
religion  of  nature  in  this  respect!  May  eacli 
of  our  hearers  be  a  new  evidence  of  this  ar- 


232 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


[Sbb.  XXIV. 


tide  !  The  whole  that  troubles  an  expiring 
heathen,  revives  a  Christian  in  his  dying 
bed.  ^     " 

Thus  speaks  the  dying  Christian :  '  When 
I  consider  the  awlul  s)'mptoins  of  deatii,  and 
the  violent  ag-onies  of  dissolving  nature,  they 
a[)pear  to  me  as  medical  preparations,  slir.rp 
but  salutary  ;  they  are  necessyry  to  detach 
me  from  life,  and  to  separate  the  remains  of 
inward  depravity  from  me.  Besides,  I  shall 
not  be  abandoned  to  my  own  frailty  ;  but  my 
patience  and  constancy  will  be  proportional 
to  my  sufferings;  and  tnat  poweffu'  arm 
v/hich  has  su'opt.ited  mc  tlirougl;  life,  will 
uphold  me  under  the  pres.'<ure  ol  ueaih.  If  I 
consider  uiy  rns,  many  as  ihey  are,  I  am  in- 
vulneinble  ;  ior  I  go  to  a  tribunal  of  mercy, 
wliere  God  is  reconciled,  and  justice  is  satis- 
fied. If  I  consider  my  body,  I  perceive  I  am 
putting  off  a  mean  and  corriiptibic  bab:t,  and 
putting  on  robes  of  glory.  Full,  fall,  ye  im- 
perfect senses,  ye  frail  organs;  fall,  house 
of  clay,  into  your  original  dust  ;  you  will  be 
'  sown  in  corruption,  but  raised  in  incorrup- 
lion  ;  sown  in  dishonour, but  raised  in  glory; 
sown  in  weakness,  but  raised  in  power,'  1 
Cor.  XV.  42.  If  I  consider  my  soul,  it  is 
passinjr,  I  see,  from  slavery  to  freedom.  I 
shall  carry  with  me  that  wfiich  thinks  and  re- 
jlects.  I  shall  carry  with  me  the  delicacy  of 
taste,  the  harmony  of  sounds,  the  beauty  ol 
colours,  the  fragrance  of  odoriferous  smells.  I 
shall  surmount  heaven  and  earth,  nature  and 
all  terrestrial  things,  and  my  ideos  of  all 
their  beauties  will  multiply  and  expand.  If 
I  consider  the  future  economy  to  which  I  go, 
I  have,  I  own,  very  inadequate  notions  of  it; 
but  my  incapacity  is  the  ground  of  my  expec- 
tation. Could  I  perfectly  comprehend  it,  it 
would  argue  its  resemblance  to  some  of  the 
present  objects  of  my  senses,  or  its  minute 
proportion  to  the  present  operations  of  my 
mind.  If  worldly  dignities  and  grandeurs, 
if  accumulateil  treasures,  if  the  enjoyments 
of  the  most  refined  voluptuousness  were  to 
represent  to  me  celestial  felicity,  I  should 
suppose  that,  partaking  of  their  nature  they 
partook  of  their  vanity.  But,  if  nothing 
can  here  represent  the  future  state,  it  is  be- 
cause that  state  surpasses  every  other.  My 
ardour  is  increased  by  my  imperfect  know- 
ledge of  it.  My  knowledge  and  virtue,  I  am 
certain,  will  be  perfected  ;  I  know  I  shall 
comprehend  truth,  and  obey  order  ;  I  know 
I  shall  be  free  from  .ill  evils,  and  in  posses- 
sion of  all  good  ;  I  shall  be  present  with  God, 
I  know,  and  with  all  the  happy  sj)irits  who 
surround  his  throne  ;  and  this  perfect  state, 
I  nm  sure,  will  continue  for  ever  and  ever.' 

Such  are  the  all-suihcient  supports  which 
revealed  religion  affords  against  the  fear  of 
death.  Such  are  the  meditations  of  a  dying 
Christian ;  not  of  one  whose  whole  Christi- 
anity consists  of  dry  speculations,  which 
have  no  influence  over  his  practice  ;  but  of 
one  who  applies  his  knowledge  to  relieve 
the  real  wants  of  his  life. 

Christianity  then,  we  have  seen,  is  supe- 
rior to  natural  religion,  in  these  four  re- 
spects. To  these  we  will  add  a  few  more 
reflections  in  farther  evidence  of  the  superi- 
ority of  revealed  religion  to  the  religion  of  j 
nature.  1 


1.  The  ideas  of  the  ancient  philosophesr 
concerning  natural  religion  were  iiot  collect- 
ed into  a  body  of  doctrine.  One  philosopher 
had  one  idea,  another  studious  man  had  ano- 
ther idea ;  ideas  of  truth  and  virtue,  there- 
fore, lay  dispersed.  Who  does  not  see  the 
pre-eminence  of  revelation  on  this  article  .' 
No  human  capacity  either  has  been,  or  would 
ever  have  been,  equal  to  the  noble  concep- 
tion of  a  perfect  body  of  truth.  There  is 
no  genius  so  narrovv^  as  not  to  be  capable  of 
pi'oposing  some  clesr  truth,  some  excellent 
maxim :  but  to  lay  down  principles,  and  to 
perceive  at  once  a  chain  of  consequences, 
these  are  the  efforts  of  great  geniuses  ;  this 
capability  is  philosophical  perfection.  If  this 
axiom  be  incontestable,  what  a  fountain  of 
wisdom  does  the  system  of  Christianity  ar- 
gue '^  It  presents  us,  in  one  lovely  body  of 
perfect  symmciry,all  the  ideas  we  have  enu- 
merated. One  idea  supposes  another  idea; 
and  the  whole  is  united  in  a  manner  so  com- 
pact, that  it  is  impossible  to  alter  one  parti- 
cle without  defacing  the  beauty  of  all. 

2.  Pagan  pliilosopkers  never  had  a.  system 
of  vntiiral  religion  coniparable  with  that  of 
modern  pkilu-'iophers,  although  the  latter 
glory  in  their  contempt  of  revelation.  Mo- 
dern philosophers  have  derived  the  clearest 
and  be  :t  iiarts  of  their  systems  from  the  very 
revelation  which  tliey  affect  to  despise.  We 
grant,  the  doctrines  of  the  perfections  of 
God,  of  providence,  and  of  a  future  state, 
are  perfectly  conformable  to  the  light  of  rea- 
son. A  man  who  should  pursue  rational 
tracks  of  knowledge  to  his  utmost  power, 
would  discover,  we  own,  all  these  doctrines  : 
but  it  is  one  thing  to  grant  that  these  doc- 
trines are  conformable  to  reason,  and  it  is 
another  to  affirm  that  reason  actually  discov- 
ered them.  It  is  one  thing  to  allow,  that  a 
man,  who  should  pursue  rational  tracks  of 
knowledge  to  his  utmost  power,  would  dis- 
cover all  these  doctrines ;  and  it  is  another 
to  pretend,  that  any  man  has  pursued  these 
tracks  to  the  utmost,  and  has  actually  dis- 
covered them.  It  was  the  gospel  that  taught 
mankind  the  use  of  their  reason.  It  was  the 
gospel  tliat  assisted  men  to  form  a  body  of 
natural  religion.  Modern  philosophers  avail 
themselves  of  these  aids  ;  they  form  a  body 
of  natural  religion  by  the  light  of  the  gos- 
pel, and  then  they  attribute  to  their  own 
penetration  what  they  derive  from  foreign 
aid. 

3.  WhaA.  was  most  rational  in  the  natural 
religion  of  the  Pagan  philosophers  teas  mix- 
ed with  fancies  and  dreams.  There  was  not 
a  single  philosopher  who  did  not  ndopt  some 
absurdity,  and  communicate  it  to  his  disci- 
ples. One  taught  that  every  being  was  ani- 
mated with  a  particular  soul,  and  on  this  ab- 
surd hypothesis  he  pretended  to  account  for 
the  phenomena  of  nature.  Another  took 
every  star  for  a  god,  and  thought  the  soul  a 
vapour,  that  passed  firom  one  body  to  another, 
expiating  in  the  body  of  a  beast  the  sins  that 
were  committed  in  that  of  a  man.  One  at- 
tributed the  creation  of  the  world  to  a  blind 
chance,  and  the  government  of  all  events  in 
it  to  an  inviolable  fate.  Another  affirmed 
the  eternity  of  the  world,  and  said,  there 
was  no  period  in  eternity  in  which  heaven 


Seh.  XXIV.] 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


233 


and  earth,  nature  and  elements  were  not  vi-  i 
sible.     One  said  every   thing  is  uncertain;  i 
we  are  not  sure  of  our  own  existence  ;  the 
distinction  between  just  and  unjust,  virtue  | 
and  vice,  is  fanciful,  and  has  no  real  founda-  | 
tion  in  the  nature  of  things.     Another  made  ' 
matter  equal  to  God  ;  and  maintained,   that  i 
it  concurred  with  the  Supreme  Being  in  the  [ 
formation  of  the   universe.     One   took  the  i 
world   for  a  prodigious  body,   of  which  he  j 
thought  God  was  the  soul.    Another  affirm- 
ed the  materiality  of  the  soul,  and  attributed  | 
to  matter  the  faculties  of  thinking  and  rea-  j 
soning.     Some  denied  tjie  immortality  of  the 
soul,   and  the  intervention   of  Providence ; 
and   pretended  that  an  infinite  number   of 
particles  of  matter,  indivisible,   and   indes-  ; 
tructible    revolved    in   the    universe ;     that ! 
from  their    fortuitous   concourse   arose    the  j 
present   world ;    that   in  all   this  there  was  ■ 
no  design :  that   the   feet  were  not  formed  , 
for   walking,   the   eyes   for  seeing,   nor  the 
hands  for  handling.     On  the  contrary,  the  | 
gospel  is  light  without  darkness.     It  has  no- 
t' ing   mean ;   nothing    false ;    nothing   that 
does  not  bear  the  characters  of  that  wisdom 
from  which  it  proceeds. 

4.  What  teas  pure  in  the  natural  religion 
of  the  heathens  was  not  known,  nor  could 
be  knovm  to  any  bvt  philosophers.  The 
common  people  were  incapable  of  that  pene- 
tration and  labour,  which  the  investigating 
of  truth,  and  the  distinguishing  of  it  from 
that  falsehood,  in  which  passion  and  preju- 
dice had  enveloped  it,  required.  A  medi- 
ocrity of  genius,  I  allow,  is  sufficient  for  the 
purpose  of  inferring  a  part  of  those  conse- 
quences from  the  works  of  nature,  of  which 
we  form  the  body  of  natural  religion  ;  but 
none  but  geniuses  of  the  first  order  are  ca- 
pable of  kenning  those  distant  consequences 
which  are  enfolded  in  darkness.  The  bulk 
of  mankind  wanted  a  short  way  proportional 
to  every  mind.  They  wanted  an  authority 
the  infallibility  of  which  all  mankind  might 
easily  see.  They  wanted  a  revelation  found- 
ed on  evidence  plain  and  obvious  to  all  the 
world.  Philosophers  could  not  show  the 
world  such  a  short  way,  but  revelation  has 
shown  it.  No  philosoplier  could  assume  the 
authority  necessary  to  establish  such  a  wa}' : 
it  became  God  alone  to  dictate  in  such  a 
mamier,  and  in  revelation  he  has  done  it. 

Here  we  would  finish  this  discourse  ;  but, 
as  the  subject  is  liable  to  abuse,  we  think  it 
necessary  to  guard  you  against  two  common 
abuses  :  and  as  the  doctrine  is  reducible  to 
practice,  v/e  will  add  two  general  reflections 
on  the  whole  to  direct  your  conduct. 

1.  Some,  who  acknowledge  the  superior 
excellence  of  revealed  religion  to  the  religion 
of  nature,  cast  an  odious  contempt  on  the 
pains  that  arc  taken  to  cultivate  reason,  and 
to  improve  the  mind.  They  think  the  way 
to  obtain  a  sound  system  of  divinity  is  to 
neglect  an  exact  method  of  reasoning  ;  with 
them  to  be  a  bad  philosopher  is  the  ready 
way  to  become  a  good  Christian  ;  and  to  cul- 
tivate reason  is  to  render  the  design  of  re- 
ligion abortive.  Nothing  can  be  more  fo- 
reign from  the  intention  of  St.  Paul,  and  the 
design  of  this  discourse,  than  such  an  absurd 
consequence.    Nothing  would  so  eifectually 


depreciate  the  gospel,  and  betray  the  cause 
into  the  hands  of  atheists  and  infidels.  On 
the  contrary,  an  exact  habit  of  reasoning  is 
essential  to  a  sound  system  of  divinity  ;  rea- 
son must  be  cultivated  if  we  would  under- 
stand the  excellent  characters  of  religion ; 
the  better  the  philosopher,  the  more  disposed 
to  become  a  good  Christian.  Do  not  deceive 
yourselves,  my  brethren;  without  rational 
knowledge,  and  accurate  judgment,  the  full 
evidence  of  the  arguments  that  establish  the 
doctrine  of  the  existence  of  God  can  never 
be  perceived  ;  at  least  the  doctrine  can  never 
be  properly  defended.  Without  the  exercise 
of  reason,  and  accuracy  of  judgment,  we 
can  never  perceive  clearly  the  evidence  of 
the  proofs  on  which  we  ground  the  divinity 
of  revelation,  and  the  authenticity  of  the 
books  that  contain  it ;  at  least,  we  can  ne- 
ver answer  all  the  objections  which  libertin- 
ism opposes  against  this  important  subject. 
Without  rational  and  accurate  knowledge, 
the  true  meaning  of  revektion  can  never  be 
understood.  Without  exercising  reason,  and 
accuracy  of  judgment,  we  cannot  distinguish 
which  of  all  the  various  sects  of  Christian- 
ity has  taken  the  law  of  Jesus  Christ  for  its 
rule,  his  oracles  for  its  guide,  his  decisions  for 
infallible  decrees ;  at  least  we  shall  find  it 
extremely  difficult  to  escape  those  dangers 
which  heresy  will  throw  across  our  path  at 
every  step,  and  to  avoid  those  lurking  holes 
in  which  the  most  absurd  sectaries  lodge. 
Without  the  aid  of  reason,  and  accuracy  of 
thought,  we  cannot  understand  the  pre-em- 
inence of  Christianity  over  natural  religion. 
The  mare  a  man  cultivates  his  reason,  the 
more  he  feels  the  imperfection  of  his  reason. 
The  more  accuracy  of  judgment  a  man  ac- 
quires, the  more  fully  will  he  perceive  his 
need  of  a  supernatural  revelation  to  supply 
the  defect  of  his  discoveries,  and  to  render 
his  knowledge  complete. 

2.  The  pre-eminence  of  revelation  inspires 
some  with  a  cruel  divinity,:  who  persuade 
themselves,  that  all  whom  they  think  have 
not  been  favoured  with  revelation,  are  ex- 
cluded from  salvation,  and  doomed  to  ever- 
lasting flames.  The  famous  question  of  the 
destiny  of  those  who  seem  to  us  not  to  have 
known  any  tiling  but  natural  religion,  we 
ought  carefully  to  divide  into  two  questions  j 
a  question  of  fact,  and  a  question  of  right. 
The  question  of  right  is,  whether  a  heathen, 
considered  as  a  heathen,  and  on  supposition 
of  his  having  no  other  knowledge  than  that 
of  nature,  could  be  saved  .^  The  question  of 
fact  is,  whether  God,  through  the  same  mer- 
cy, which  inclined  him  to  reveal  himself 
to  us  in  the  clearest  manner,  did  not  give  to 
some  of  the  heathens  a  knowledge  superior  to 
that  of  natural  religion. 

What  we  have  already  heard  is  sufficient 
to  determine  the  question  of  right :  for,  if 
the  notion  we  have  given  of  natural  religion, 
be  just,  it  is  sufficient  to  prove,  that  it  is  in- 
capable of  conducting  mankind  to  salvation. 
'  This  is  life  eternal,  to  know  the  only 
true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ,  whom  thou  hast 
sent,'  John  xvii.  3.  '  There  is  no  other  name 
under  heaven  given  among  men  whereby  we 
must  be  saved,'  Acts  iv.  13.  The  disciples 
of  natural  religion  had  no  hope  and  '  were 


'234 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


[Ser.  XXIV 


without  God  in  the  world,'  Eph.  ii  12.  A 
latitudinarian  theology  in  vain  opposes  these 
decisions,  by  alleging  some  passages  of  Scrip- 
ture which  seem  to  favour  the  opposite 
opinion.  In  vain  is  it  urged,  that  '  God 
never  left  himself  without  witness,  in  doing 
the  heathens  good;'  for  it  is  one  thing  to  re- 
ceive of  God  '  rain  from  heaven,  and  fruitful 
seasons,'  Acts  xiv.  17  (and  the  apostle  speaks 
of  these  blessings  only) :  and  it  is  another 
thing  to  participate  an  illuminating  faith,  a 
sanctifying  spirit,  a  saving  hope.  In  vain  is 
that  quoted,  which  our  apostle  said  in  his  dis- 
course in  the  Areopagus,  that  '  God  hath  de- 
termined,— that  the  heathens  should  seek  the 
Lord,  if  haply  they  might  feel  after  him,  and 
find  him,'  chap.  xvii.  27 :  for  it  is  one  thing 
to  find  God,  as  him  who  '  giveth  life  and 
breath  to  all  mankind,  as  him  who  hath  made 
of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men,  as  him  in 
whom  we  live,  and  move  and  have  our  being  ; 
as  him  whom  gold,  or  silver,  or  stone  cannot 
represent,'  ver.  25.  28,  29  ;  and  another  thing 
to  find  him  as  a  propitious  parent ;  opening 
the  treasures  of  his  mercy,  and  bestowing  on 
ns  his  Son.  It  is  to  no  purpose  to  allege  that 
the  heathens  are  said  to  have  been  icithout 
excuse  :  for  it  is  one  thing  to  be  inexcusable 
for  '  changing  the  glory  of  the  incorruptible 
God  into  an  image  made  like  to  corruptible 
man,  and  to  birds,  and  four-footed  beasts,  and 
creeping  things,'  Rom.  i.  20  ;  for  giving  them- 
selves up  to  those  excesses  which  the  holiness 
of  this  place  forbids  me  to  name,  and  which  ' 
the  apostle  depicts  in  the  most  odious  colours ; 
and  it  is  another  thing  to  be  inexcusable  for 
rejecting  an  economy  that  reveals  every  thing 
necessary  to  salvation.  There  is  no  difficulty, 
then,  in  the  question  of  right.  The  disciple 
of  natural  religion,  considered  as  such,  could 
2iot  be  saved.  Natural  religion  was  insuffi-  , 
cient  to  conduct  men  to  salvation.  j 

But  the  question  of  fact,  (whether  God 
gave  any  pagan  knowledge  superior  to  that 
of  natural  religion .'')  ought  to  be  treated 
with  the  utmost  caution. 

We  will  not  say,  with  some  divines,  that  ' 
1  he  heathens  were  saved  by  an  implicit  faith 
in  Jesus  Christ.  By  implicit  faith,  they  ; 
mean,  a  disposition  in  a  wise  heathen  to  have  ■ 
believed  in  Jesus  Christ,  Had  Jesus  Christ 
heen  revealed  to  him.  We  will  not  affirm, 
with  Clement  of  Alexandria,  that  philosophy 
was  that  to  the  Greeks  which  the  law  was  to 
the  Jews,  a  '  schoolmaster,  to  bring  men 
unto  Christ,'^  Gal.  iii.  24.  We  will  not  af- 
firm, with  St.  Chrysostom,  that  they  who, 
despising  idolatry,  adored  the  Creator  be- 
fore the  coming  of  Christ,  were  saved  with- 
out faith. t  We  will  not,  like  one  of  the  re- 
formers, in  a  letter  to  Francis  I.  king  of 
France,  place  Theseus,  Hercules,  Numa, 
Aristides,  Cato,and  the  ancestors  of  the  king, 
Avith  the  patriarchs,  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  the 
apostles ;  acting  less  in  the  character  of  a 
minister,  whose  office  it  is  to  '  declare  all  the 
counsel  of  God,'  Acts  xx.  27,  than  in  that  of 
an  author,  whose  aim  it  is  to  flatter  the  vanity 
of  man.t     Less  still,  do  wo  think  we  have  a 

*  Strom,  lib.  i.  p.  aK.  Edit.  Par.  vi.  499. 
f  Horn,  ixvii.  St.  Math. 

\  S'ee  ail  Epistle  of  Zuinglius,  at  the  beginning  of 
his  Exposition  of  the  Christian  Faith. 


right  to  say,  with  St.  Augustine,  that  the 
Erythrean  Sybil  is  in  heaven.*  Some,  who 
now  quote  St.  Chrysostom,  St.  Clement,  and 
St.  Augustine,  with  great  veneration,  would 
anathem.atize  any  contemporary  who  should 
advance  the  same  propositions  which  these 
fathers  advanced.  But  after  all,  who  dares 
to  '  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel .''  Ps.lxxviii. 
41.  Who  dares  to  affirm,  that  God  could  not 
reveal  himself  to  a  heathen  on  his  death-bed? 
Who  will  venture  to  say,  he  has  never  done 
so .''  Let  us  renounce  our  inclination  to  damn 
mankind.  Let  us  reject  that  theology  which 
derives  its  glory  from  its  cruelty.  Let  us  en- 
tertain sentiments  more  charitable  than  those 
of  some  divines,  who  cannot  conceive  they 
shall  be  happy  in  heaven,  unless  they  know 
that  thousands  are  miserable  in  hell.  This 
is  the  second  abuse  which  we  wisli  to  pre- 
vent. 

But  although  we  ought  not  to  despair  of 
the  salvation  of  those  who  were  not  born  un- 
der the  economy  of  grace  as  we  are,  we 
ought  however  (and  this  is  the  first  use  of 
our  subject  to  which  we  exhort  you,)  we 
ought  to  value  this  economy  very  highly,  to 
attach  ourselves  to  it  inviolably,  and  to  de- 
rive from  it  all  the  succour,  and  all  the  know- 
ledge, that  we  cannot  procure  by  our  own 
speculations.  Especially,  we  ought  to  seek 
in  this  economy  for  remedies  for  the  disor- 
ders which  sin  has  caused  in  our  souls.  It  is 
a  common  distemper  in  this  age,  to  frame 
arbitrary  systems  of  religion,  and  to  seek 
divine  mercy  where  it  is  not  to  be  found. 
The  wise  Christian  derives  his  system  from 
the  gospel  only.  Natural  reason  is  a  very 
dangerous  guarantee  of  our  destiny.  Nothing 
is  more  fluctuating  and  precarious  than  the 
salvation  of  mankind,  if  it  have  no  better  as- 
surance than  a  few  metaphysical  speculations 
on  the  goodness  of  the  Supreme  Being.  Our 
notions  of  God,  indeed,  include  love.  The 
productions  of  nature,  and  the  conduct  of 
Providence,  concur,  I  grant,  in  assuring  us, 
that  God  loves  to  bestow  benedictions  on  his 
creatures.  But  the  attributes  of  God  are 
fathomless  ;  boundless  oceans,  in  which  we 
are  as  often  lost  as  we  have  the  presumption 
to  attempt  to  traverse  them  without  a  pilot. 
Nature  and  Providence  are  both  labyrinths, 
in  which  our  frail  reason  is  quickly  bewilder- 
ed, and  finally  entangled.  The  idea  of  jus- 
tice enters  no  less  into  a  notion  of  the  Su- 
preme Being  than  that  of  mercy.  And,  say 
what  we  will,  that  we  are  guilty  creatures 
will  not  admit  of  a  doubt ;  for  conscience 
itself,  our  own  conscience,  pronounces  a  sen- 
tence of  condemnation  on  us,  however  prone 
we  may  be  to  flatter  and  favour  ourselves. 
God  condescends  to  terminate  the  doubts 
which  these  various  speculations  produce  in 
our  minds.  In  his  word  of  revelation  he  as- 
sures us  that  he  is  merciful ;  and  he  informs 
us  on  what  we  may  found  our  hopes  of  shaa'- 
ing  his  mercy,  on  the  covenant  he  has  made 
with  us  in  the  gospel.  Wo  be  to  us  if,  by 
criminally  refusing  to  '  bring  every  thought 
to  the  obedience  of  Christ,'  2  Cor  x.  5,  we 
forsake  these  '  fountains  of  hving  waters,' 
which  he  opens  to  us  in  religion,  and  persist 
in '  hewing  out  broken  cisterns  of  speculations 

*  City  of  God  lib.  .xviii.  c.23. 


Seb.  XXIV.] 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  REVELATION. 


^3o 


and  systems!'  Jer.  ii.  13.  The  sacred  books, 
which  are  in  our  hands,  and  which  contain 
the  substance  of  the  sermons  of  insjlired  men, 
show  us  these  '  fountains  of  living  waters.' 
They  attest,  in  a  manner  the  most  clear,  and 
level  to  the  smallest  attention  of  the  lowest 
capacity,  that  Jesus  Christ  alone  has  recon- 
ciled us  to  God  ;  that  '  God  hath  set  him 
forth  to  be  a  propitiation,  through  faith  in  his 
blood ;  that  God  called  him  to  be  a  high 
priest,  that  he  might  become  the  author  of 
eternal  salvation  unto  all  them  that  come 
vmto  God  by  him,'  Rom.  iii.  25 ;  Heb.  v.  9.  10; 
and  chap.  vii.  25.  Let  us  go  then  unto  God 
'by  him,'  and  bv  him  only:  and,  let  me  re- 
peat it  again.  Wo  be  to  us,  if  we  determine 
to  go  to  God  by  our  own  speculations  and 
systems. 

But  the  principal  use  we  ought  to  make  of 
the  text,  and  of  this  sermon,  is  truly  and 
thoroughly  to  acknowledge  that  superiority 
of  virtue  and  holiness,  to  which  the  superi- 
ority of  revealed  religion  engages  us.  A 
mortifying,  but  a  salutary  reflection  !  What 
account  can  we  give  of  the  light  that  shines 
iu  the  gospel  with  so  much  splendour,  and 
which  distinguishes  us  from  the  heathens, 
whose  blindness  we  deplore .'  When  we 
place  the  two  economies  opposite  to  each 
other,  and  contemplate  both,  a  cloud  of  re- 
flections arise,  and  our  prerogatives  present 
themselves  from  every  part.  The  clearest 
light  shines  around  us.  Light  into  the  attri- 
butes of  God ;  light  into  the  nature,  the  obli- 
gations, the  duration  of  man  ;  light  into  the 
grand  method  of  reconciliation,  which  God 
has  presented  to  the  church  ;  light  into  the 
certainty  of  a  future  state.  But  when  we 
oppose  disciple  to  disciple,  virtue  to  virtue, 
we  hardly  find  any  room  for  comparison. 
Except  here  and  there  an  elect  soul ;  here 
and  there  one  lost  in  the  crowd,  can  you  see 
any  great  difference  between  the  Christian 
and  the  pagan  world  .' 

What  shame  would  cover  us,  were  we  to 
contrast  Holland  with  Greece,  the  cities  in 
these  provinces  with  the  city  of  Corinth  ! 
Corinth  was  the  metropolis  of  Greece. 
There  commerce  prospered,  and  attracted 
immense  riches  from  all  parts  of  the  universe, 
and  along  with  wealth,  pride,  imperiousness, 
and  debauchery,  which  almost  inevitably 
follow  a  prosperous  trade.  Thither  went 
some  of  the  natives  of  other  countries,  and 
carried  with  them  their  passions  and  their 
vices.  There  immorality  was  enthroned 
There,  according  to  Strabo,*  was  a  temple 
dedicated  to  the  immodest  Venus.  There 
the  palace  of  dissoluteness  was  erected,  the 
ruins  of  which  are  yet  to  be  seen  by  travel- 
lers ;  that  infamous  palace,  in  which  a  thou- 
sand prostitutes  were  maintained.  There 
the  abominable  Lais  held  her  court,  and  ex- 
acted six  talents  of  every  one  who  fell  a  prey 
to  her  deceptions.     There   impurity  was  be- 


*  Geog.  lib.  viii.  p.  378.  Edit.  Far.  1620- 


come  so  notorious,  that  a  Corinthian  waa 
synonymous  to  a  prostitute ;  and  the  pro- 
verb, '  to  live  like  a  Corinthian,'  was  as  much 
as  to  say,  '  to  live  a  life  of  debauchery.'*  Ye 
provinces !  in  which  we  dwell.  Ye  cities ! 
in  which  we  preach.  O,  Laisi  Lais!  who  atten- 

dest  our  sermons  so  often, 

I  spare  you.  But  how  could  we  run  the  pa- 
rallel between  Holland  and  Gieece,  between 
these  cities  and  that  of  Corinth  ? 

Moreover,  were  we  to  compare  success 
with  success,  the  docility  of  our  disciples 
with  the  docility  of  those  disciples  to  whom 
the  pagan  philosophers,  who  lived  in  those 
days  of  darkness,  preached,  how  much  to  our 
disadvantage  would  the  comparison  be  .'  Py- 
thagoras would  say,  when  I  taught  philosophy 
at  Crotona.  I  persuaded  the  lascivious  to  re- 
nounce luxury,  the  drunkard  to  abstain  from 
wine,  and  even  the  most  gay  ladies  to  sacri- 
fice their  rich  and  fashionable  garments  to 
modesty .+  When  I  was  in  Italy,  I  re-estab- 
lished liberty  and  civil  government,  and  by 
one  discourse  reclaimed  two  thousand  men ; 
I  prevailed  with  them  to  subdue  the  sugges- 
tions of  avarice,  and  the  emotions  of  pride, 
and  to  love  meditation,retirement  and  silence. 
I  did  more  with  my  philosophy  than  you  do 
with  that  morality,  of  which  you  make  such 
magnificent  display.  Hegesias  would  say,  I 
threw  all  Greece  into  an  uproar :  what  I  said 
on  the  vanity  of  life,  on  the  insipid  nature  of 
its  pleasures,  the  vanity  of  its  promises,  the 
bitterness  of  its  calamities,  had  an  effect  so 
great,  that  some  destroyed  themselves,  others 
would  have  followed  their  example,  and  I 
should  have  depopulated  whole  cities,  had 
not  Ptolemy  silenced  me.|  My  discourses 
detached  men  from  the  world  more  effectual- 
ly than  yours,  although  you  preach  the  doc- 
trines of  a  future  life,  of  paradise,  and  of 
eternity.  Zeno  would  tell  us,  I  influenced 
my  disciples  to  contemn  pain,  to  despise  a 
tyrant,  and  to  trample  on  punishment.  I  did 
more  towards  elevating  man  above  humanity 
with  that  philosophy,  of  which  you  have 
such  unfavourable  ideas,  than  you  do  M'ith 
that  religion  on  which  you  bestow  such  fine 
encomiums. 

What  then  !  Shall  the  advantages,  which 
advance  the  Christian  revelation  above  the 
speculations  of  the  pagan  world,  advance  at 
the  same  time  the  virtues  of  the  pagans 
above  those  of  Christians  ?  And  shall  all  the 
ways  of  salvation  which  are  opened  to  us  in 
the  communion  of  Jesus  Christ,  serve  only  to 
render  salvation  inaccessible  to  us  ?  God  for- 
bid !  Let  us  assimilate  our  religion  to  the 
economy  under  which  we  live.  May  know- 
ledge conduct  us  to  virtue,  and  virtue  to  feli- 
city and  glory  !  God  grant  us  this  grace  I  To 
him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever.     Amen. 


*  Erasm.  Adag.  Cent.  7.  p.  633.  720. 
t  Diog.  Laert.  lib.  iii.  in  Pytliag.  p.  114.  Edit.  Bom. 
fol.  1594. 
i  Cic.  Qil.Tusc.  lib.  i.Diog.  Laert.  in  Aristip.  lib.ii. 


SERMON  XXV. 


THE  SUPERIOR  EVIDENCE  AND  INFLUENCE  OF  CHRISTIANITT. 


1  John  iv.  4. 


Greater  is  he  that  is  in  you,  than  he  that  is  in  the  world. 


That  appearance,  which  is  recorded  in  the 
second  book  of  Kings,  cliap.  vi.  8,  &c.  was 
very  proper  to  embolden  the  timid  servant  of 
Elisha.  The  king  of  Sj'ria  was  at  war  with 
the  king  of  Israel.  The  wise  counsel  of  the 
prophet  was  more  advantageous  to  his 
prince  than  that  of  his  generals  was.  The 
Syrian  thought,  if  he  could  render  himself 
master  of  such  an  extraordinary  man,  he 
could  easily  subdue  the  rest  of  the  Israelites. 
In  order  to  ensure  success  he  surrounded  Do- 
than,  the  dwelling  place  of  the  prophet,  with 
his  troops  in  the  night.  The  prophet's  ser- 
vant was  going  out  early  the  next  morning 
with  his  master,  when  on  seeing  the  numer- 
ous Syrian  forces,  he  trembled,  and  exclaimed, 
'  Alas !  my  master,  how  shall  we  do .'''  Fear 
not,  replied  Elisha, '  they  that  be  with  us,  are 
more  than  they  that  be  with  them.'  To  this 
he  added,  addressing  himself  to  God  in  pray- 
er, '  Lord,  open  his  eyes  that  he  may  see  !' 
The  prayer  was  heard.  The  servant  of 
Elisha  presently  saw  the  sufficient  ground 
of  his  master's  confidence ;  he  discovered 
a  celestial  multitude  of  horses,  and  chariots  of 
fire,  which  God  had  sent  to  defend  his  servant 
from  the  king  of  Syria. 

How  often,  my  brethren,  have  you  trem- 
bled at  the  sight  of  that  multitude  of  enemies 
Tfhich  is  let  loose  against  you  ?  When  you 
have  seen  yourselves  called  to  wrestle,  as  St. 
Paul  speaks,  '  not  only  against  flesh  and 
blood,  but  against  principalities,  against  pow- 
ers, against  spiritual  wickedness  in  high  pla- 
ces ;'  against  the  sophisms  of  error,  against 
the  tyrants  of  the  church,  and  which  is  still 
more  formidable,  against  the  depravity  of 
your  own  hearts  :  how  often  in  these  cases 
have  you  exclaimed, '  Alas  !  how  shall  we  do .' 
Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ?'  2  Cor. 
ii.  16  'Who  then  can  be  saved.''  Matt, 
xix.  25. 

But  take  courage,  Christian  wrestlers ! 
'  they  that  be  with  you  are  more  than  they 
that  are  against  you.  O  Lord!  open  their 
eyes  that  they  may  see !  Mas  they  see  the 
great  cloud  of  witnesses,'  Heb.  xii;  1,  who 
fought  in  the  same  field  to  which  they  are 
called,  and  there  obtained  a  victory  !  May 
they  see  the  blessed  angels  who  encamp  round 
about  them,  to  protect  their  persons,  and  to  de- 
feat their  foes !  May  they  see  the  powerful  aid 
of  that  Spirit  wiiich  thou  hast  given  them! 
'  May  they  see  Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher  of 
their  faith,'  Ps.  xxxiv.  7  ;  1  John  iii.  24,  and 
Heb.  xii.2,  who  animates  them  from  heaven, 
and  the  eternal  rewards  which  thou  art  pre- 
paring to  crown  their  perseverance  !  and  may 
a  happy  experience  teach  them  that  truth,  on 


which  we  are  going  to  fix  their  attention, 
'  Greater  is  he  that  is  in  them,  than  he  that 
is  in  the  world.'     Amen. 

Two  preliminary  remarks  will  elucidate 
our  subject : 

1.  Although  the  proposition  in  my  text  is 
general,  and  regards  all  Christians,  yet  St. 
.John  wrote  it  with  a  particular  view  to  those 
persons  to  whom  he  addressed  the  epistle 
from  which  we  have  taken  it.  In  order  to 
ascertain  this,  reflect  on  the  times  of  the 
apostles,  and  remnrk  the  accomplishment  of 
that  prophecy  which  Jesus  Christ  had  some 
time  before  delivered.  He  had  foretold,  that 
there  would  arise  in  Judea  '  false  Christs, 
and  false  prophets,  who  would  show  great 
signs  and  wonders,  insomuch  that  (if  it  were 
possible),  they  would  deceive  the  very  elect,' 
Matt.  xxiv.  24.  This  prophecy  was  to  be  ac- 
complished immediately  before  the  destruc- 
tion of  Jerusalem  :  and  to  that  period  learned 
men  assign  the  publication  of  this  epistle.  St. 
John  calls  the  time  in  which  he  wrote,  '  the 
last  time,'  chap.  ii.  18,  that  is  to  say,  in  the 
Jewish  style,  the  time  in  which  the  metropo- 
lis of  Judea  was  to  be  destroyed :  and  adds 
the  sign  by  which  Christians  might  '  know, 
that  it  was  the  last  time  ;  as  ye  have  heard 
that  Antichrist  shall  come,  even  now  are 
there  many  Antichrists  ;  whereby  we  know 
that  it  is  the  last  tmie.'  Remark  those  words, 
'  as  ye  have  heard  :'  the  apostle  meant  by 
thciii,  to  remind  his  readers  of  the  prophecy 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

I  do  not  pretend  now  to  inquire  what  sedu- 
cers Jesus  Christ  particularly  intended  in  this 
prophecy.  Simon  the  Sorcerer  may  be  pla- 
ced in  the  class  of  false  Christs.  There  is  a 
very  remarkable  passage  to  this  purpose  in 
the  tenth  verse  of  the  eighth  chapter  of  Acts. 
It  is  there  said,  that  this  impostor  had  so  '  be- 
witched the  people  of  Samaria,  that  all,  from 
the  least  to  the  greatest,  said.  This  man  is  the 
great  power  of  God.'  What  means  this 
phrase,  the  great  power  of  God  f  It  is 
the  title  which  the  ancient  Jews  gave  the 
Messiah.  Philo,  treating  of  the  divine  essence, 
establishes  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity,  as 
clearly  as  a  Jew  could  establish  it,  who  had 
no  other  guide  than  the  Old  Testament.  He 
speaks  first  of  God  ;  then  of  what  he  calls  the 
logos,  the  word  (the  same  term  is  translated 
70ord  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  gospel  of  St. 
John),  and  he  calls  this  word  the  great  power 
of  God,  and  distinguishes  him  from  a  third 
person,  whom  he  denominates  the  second, 
power.  Moreover,  Origen  says,  Simon  the  sor- 
cerer took  the  title  of  Son  of  God,  a  title  which 
the  Jews  had  appropriated  to  the  Messiah. 


3er.  XXV.] 


THE  SUPERIOR  EVIDENCE,  ifec. 


23t 


As  there  were  false  Christs  in  the  time  of 
St.  John,  so  there  were  also  false  prophets, 
that  is,  false  teachers.  These  St.  John  has 
characterized  in  the  chapters  which  precede 
my  text ;  and  the  portraits  drawn  by  the 
apostle  are  so  exactly  like  those  which  tlie 
primitive  fathers  of  the  church  have  exhibited 
of  Ebion  and  Ceriiithus,  that  it  is  easy  to 
know  them.  A  particular  investigation  of 
this  subject  would  divert  onr  attention  too 
far  from  our  principal  design ;  and  it  shall 
Suflice  at  present  to  observe,  that  these  im- 
postors caused  great  mischiefs  in  the  church. 
Simon,  the  sorcerer,  indeed,  at  first,  renounc- 
ed his  imposture ;  but  he  soon  adopted  it 
again.  Justin  Martyr  informs  us,  that,  in 
his  time,  there  remained  some  disciples  of 
that  wretch,  who  called  him  the  first  intelli- 
gence of  the  divinity,  that  is,  the  tcord ;  and 
who  named  Helen,  the  associate  of  Simon  in 
his  imposture,  the  second  intelligence  of  the 
divinity,  by  which  title  they  intended  to  de- 
scribe the  Holy  Ghost.  Only  they,  who  are 
novices  in  the  history  of  primitive  Christiani- 
ty, can  be  ignorant  of  the  ravages,  which 
Ebion  and  Cerinthus  made  in  the  church. 

But  Jesus  Christ  had  foretold,  and  all  ages 
have  verified  the  prediction,  that  '  the  gates 
of  hell  should  not  prevail  against  the  church,' 
Matt.  xvi.  18.  The  most  specious  sophisms  of 
Ebion  and  Cerinthus,  the  most  seducing  de- 
ceptions of  Simon  and  his  associates,  did 
not  draw  off  one  of  the  elect  from  Jesus 
Christ ;  the  faithful  followers  of  the  Son  of 
God,  notwithstanding  their  dispersion  tri- 
umphed over  false  Christs,  and  false  teachers. 
St.  John  extols  their  victory  in  the  words  of 
my  text ;  '  Ye  have  overcome  them  (says  he), 
because  greater  is  he  that  is  in  you,  than  he 
that  is  in  the  world.' 

It  seems  almost  needless  precisely  to 
point  out  here  whom  St.  John  means  by 
'  him,  who  is  in  believers,''  and  by  '  him  who 
is  in  the  world  ;'  or  to  determine  which  of  the 
different  senses  of  commentators  seem  to  us 
the  most  defensible.  Some  say,  the  apostle 
intended  the  Holy  Spirit  by  '  him  who  is  in 
you  ;'  others  think,  he  meant  Jesus  Christ  ; 
and  others  suppose  him  speaking  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  regeneration,  which  is  in  Christians, 
and  which  renders  them  invulnerable  by  all 
the  attacks  of  the  world.  In  like  manner,  if  we 
endeavour  to  affix  a  distinct  idea  to  the  other 
terms, '  him  who  is  in  the  world;'  some  pre- 
tend that  St.  John  means  Satan  ;  others,  that 
he  expresses,  in  a  vague  manner,  all  the  means 
which  the  world  employs  to  seduce  good  men. 

But,  whatever  difference  there  may  appear 
in  these  explications,  they  all  come  to  the 
same  sense.  For  if  the  apostle  speaks  of 
the  inhabitation  of  Jesus  Christ,  it  is  certain, 
he  dwells  in  us  by  his  Holy  Spirit ;  and  if  he 
means  the  Holy  Spirit,  it  is  certain  he  dwells 
in  us  by  the  principles  of  regeneration.  In 
like  manner  in  regard  to  the  other  proposi- 
tion. If  it  be  Satan,  who,  the  apostle  says, 
is  in  the  world,  he  is  there  undoubtedly  by 
the  errors  which  his  amissaries  published 
there,  and  by  the  vices  which  they  introduce 
there.  The  design  of  the  apostle,  therefore, 
is  to  show  the  superiority  of  the  means  which 
God  employs  to  save  us,  to  those  which  the 
world  employ  to  destroy  us. 

2  H 


2.  But  this  prodiices  atjother  difficulty, 
and  the  solution  of  it  is  my  second  article.  It 
should  seem,  if  the  apostle  had  reason  to  say 
of  them  who  had  persevered  in  Christianity, 
that  '  he  who  was  in  them  was  greater  than 
he  who  was  in  the  world,'  seducers  also  had 
reason  to  say.  that  he  wlio  was  in  those  whom 
they  had  seduced,  was  greater  than  he  who 
was  in  persevering  Christians.  Satan  has 
still,  in  our  day,  more  disciples  than  Jesus 
Christ.  Can  it  be  said,  that  Satan,  is  greater 
than  Jesiis  Christ .'  Can  it  be  said,  that  the 
means  employed  by  that  lying  and  murder- 
ing spirit  to  seduce  mankind,  ate  superior  to 
those  which  the  Holy  Spirit  employs  to  illu- 
minate them  .''  No,  my  brethren  ;  and  our 
answer  to  these  questions,  which  requires 
your  particular  attention,  will  serve  to  elu- 
cidate one  of  the  most  obscure  articles  of  re- 
ligion. We  will  endeavour  to  express  the 
matter  clearly  to  all  our  attentive  hear 
ers. 

We  must  carefully  distinguish  a  mean  ap- 
plied to  an  irrational  agent  from  a  mean  ap* 
plied  to  an  intelligent  agent.  A  mean,  that 
is  applied  to  an  irrational  agent,  can  never 
be  accounted  superior  to  the  obstacles  which 
oppose  it,  unless  its  superiority  be  justified 
by  success.  A  certain  degree  of  power  is 
requisite  to  move  a  mass  of  a  certain  weight; 
a  degree  of  power  superior  to  the  weight  of  a 
certain  mass  will  never  fail  to  move  the  mass 
out  of  its  place,  and  to  force  it  away. 

But  it  is  not  so  with  the  means  which  are. 
applied  to  intelligent  beings ;  they  are  not 
always  attended  with  thaf  success  which,  it 
should  seem,  ought  to  follow  the  application 
of  them.  I  attempt  to  prove  to  a  man,  on 
whom  nature  has  bestowed  common  sense, 
that  if  an  equal  number  be  taken  from  an 
equal  number,  an  equal  number  will  remain. 
I  propose  my  demonstration  to  him  with  all 
possible  clearness,  and  he  has  no  less  faculty 
to  comprehend  it,  than  I  have  to  propose  it. 
He  persists,  however,  in  the  opposite  pro- 
position :  but  his  obstinacy  is  the  only  cause 
of  his  error  ;  he  refuses  to  believe  me,  be- 
cause he  refuses  to  hear  me.  Were  an  at- 
tentive and  teachable  man  to  yield  to  my 
demonstration,  while  the  former  persisted  in 
denying  it,  could  it  be  reasonably  said  then, 
that  motives  of  incredulity  in  the  latter  were 
superior  to  motives  of  credulity  ?  We  must 
distinguish,  then,  a  mean  applied  to  an  intel- 
ligent being,  from  a  mean  applied  to  an  irra- 
tional being. 

Farther.  Among  the  obstacles,  with  which 
intelligent  beings  resist  means  applied  to 
them,  physical  obstacles  must  be  distinguish- 
ed from  moral  obstacles.  Physical  obstacles 
are  such  as  necessarily  belong  to  the  being 
that  resists,  so  that  there  is  no  faculty  to 
remove  them.  I  propose  to  an  infant  a  con- 
clusion, the  understanding  of  whicli  depends 
on  a  chain  of  propositions,  which  he  is  inca- 
pable of  following.  The  obstacle,  which  I 
find  in  him,  is  an  obstacle  merely  physical ; 
he  has  not  a  faculty  to  remove  it. 

I  propose  the  same  conclusion  to  a  man  of 
mature  age ;  he  understands  it  no  more 
than  the  infant  just  now  mentioned:  but  his 
ignorance  does  not  proceed  from  a  want  of 
those  faculties  whith  are  necessary  to  com- 


238 


THE  SUPERIOR  EVIDENCE  AND 


[Ser.  XXV. 


prehendit,  but  from  his  disuse  of  them.  This 
is  a  moral  obstacle. 

It  cannot  be  fairly  said,  that  the  power  ap- 
plied to  physical  resistance  is  greater  than 
the  resistance,  unless  it  necessarily  prevail 
over  it :  but  it  is  very  different  with  that 
power,  which  is  applied  to  moral  resistance. 
Those  who  have  attended  to  what  has  been 
said,  easily  perceive  the  reason  of  the  dif- 
ference, without  our  detaining  you  in  explain- 
ing it. 

Why  do  we  not  use  the  same  fair  reason- 
ing on  religious  subjects,  which  we  profess 
to  use  on  all  other  subjects  ?  Does  religion 
authorise  us  to  place  that  to  the  account  of 
God  which  proceeds  solely  from  the  free  ob- 
stinacy and  voluntary  niaUce  of  mankind  ? 
Jesus  Christ  did  not  deso'nd  to  this  world  to 
convert  irrational  beings,  but  intelligent 
creatures:  he  Ibund  two  sorts  ol' obstacles  in 
the  way  of  their  conversion,  obstacles  merely 
physical,  and  obstacles  merely  moral.  Ob- 
stacles merely  physical  are  those  which 
would  have  prevented  our  discovering  the 
plan  of  redemption,  if  he  had  not  revealed  it ; 
and  of  the  same  kind  are  tliose,  which  our 
natural  constitution,  being  disconcerted  by 
sin,  opposes  against  the  end,  which  our  Sa- 
viour proposes,  of  rendering  us  holy.  Jesus 
Christ  has  surmounted  tliese  obstacles  by 
the  light  of  revelation,  and  by  the  aid  of  his 
Holy  Spirit. 

But  he  found  also  other  obstacles  merely 
moral.  Such  were  those  which  he  met  with 
in  the  Pharisees,  and  which  hindered  those 
execrable  men  frofti  yielding  to  the  power  of 
his  miracles.  Such  are  those  still  of  all  er- 
roneous and  wicked  men,  whose  errors  and 
vices  proceed  from  similar  principles.  The 
superiority  of  the  means,  which  Jesus  Christ 
uses  to  reclaim  them,  does  not  depend  on  the 
success  of  those  means:  they  fail,  it  is  evi- 
dent, through  the  power  of  those  merely 
moral  obstacles,  which  a  voluntary  malice, 
and  a  free    obstinacy,   oppose   against  them. 

This  remark,  as  1  said  before,  elucidates 
one  of  the  most  obscure  articles  of  Chris- 
tianity. It  accounts  for  the  conduct  of  God 
towards  his  creatures,  and  for  the  language 
which  his  servants  used  on  his  behalf  The 
omnipotence  ot  God  is  more  than  sufficient 
to  convince  the  most  obstinate  minds,  and  to 
change  the  most  obdurate  hearts,  and  yet  he 
declares,  although  he  has  displayed  only  some 
degree  of  it,  that  he  has  employed  all  the 
means  he  could  to  convert  the  last,  and  to 
convince  the  first.  '  What  could  have  been 
done  more  to  my  vineyard  that  I  have  not 
done  in  it?  Wherefore,  when  I  looked  that  it 
should  bring  forth  grapes,  brought  it  forth 
wild  grapes  ?  O  iniiabitants  of  Jerusalem,  and 
men  of  Judah,  judge,  I  pray  you,  betwixt  me 
and  my  vineyard.  What  could  have  been 
done  more  to  my  vineyard  .■'  Isa.  v.  3,  4. 
Acts  of  omnipotence  might  have  been  done, 
in  order  to  have  forced  it  to  produce  good 
ffrapes,  and  to  have  annihilated  its  unhappy 
fertilit}'  in  producing  icild  grapes.  But  no, 
his  vineyard,  as  he  says,  was  the  house  of 
Israel.  The  house  of  Israel  consisted  of  in- 
telligent beings,  not  of  irrational  bein;:;s. 
God  applied  to  these  beings  means  suitable, 
not  to  irrational,  but  to  intelligent  beings.    He 


met  with  two  sorts  of  obstacles  to  the  con- 
version of  these  beings  ;  physical  obstacles^ 
and  moral  obstacles  ;  and  he  opposed  to  each 
sort  of  these  obstacles  a  superior  power  ;  but 
a  power  suitable  to  the  nature  of  each.  The 
superiority  of  that,  which  he  opposed  to 
physical  obstacles,  necessarily  produced  its 
effect,  without  which  it  would  not  have  been 
a  superior,  but  an  interior,  power.  To  moral 
obstacles  he  opposed  a  power  suitable  to 
moral  obstacles  ;  if  it  did  not  produce  its  ef- 
fect, it  was  nut  because  it  had  not  in  itself 
superior  influence  ;  God  was  not  to  be  blam- 
ed, but  they,  to  whom  it  was  applied. 

Our  remark  is,  particularly,  a  key  to  our 
text.  The  means  wiiicii  God  employs  to  ir- 
radiate our  minds,  and  to  sanctity  our  hearts 
are  superior  to  those  which  the  world  employs 
to  deceive  and  to  deprave  us;  if  that  superi- 
ority, winch  is  always  influential  on  believers, 
be  destitute  of  influence  on  obstinate  sinners, 
it  IS  no  le.<<s  superior  in  its  own  nature.  The* 
unsuccesstiilness  of  the  means  with  the  last 
proceeds  solely  from  their  own  obstinacy  and 
malice.  'What  could  have  been  done  more  to 
my  vineyard,  that  I  have  not  done  in  it  ?'  '  Ye 
have  overcome  them,  because  greater  is  he 
that  is  in  you,  than  he  that  is  in  the  world.' 
This,  I  think,  is  the  substance  of  the  meaning 
of  the  apostle. 

But,  as  it  is  only  the  general  sense,  it  re- 
quires to  be  particularly  developed,  and  I 
ought  to  investigate  the  subject  by  justitying 
three  propositions,  which  are  included  in  it, 
and  which  1  shall  have  occasion  to  apply  to 
the  Christian  religion. 

I.  Truth  has  a  light  superior  to  all  the 
glimmerings  of  falsehood. 

II.  Motives  to  virtue  are  stronger  than 
motives  to  vice. 

III.  The  Holy  Spirit,  who  opens  the  eyes  of 
a  Cliristian,  to  show  him  the  light  of  the 
trutii,  and  who  touches  his  heart,  in  order  to 
make  him  teel  the  power  of  motives  to  vir- 
tue, is  infinitely  more  powerful  than  Satan, 
who  seduces  mankind  by  falsehood  and  vice. 

Each  of  these  propositions  would  require 
a  whole  discourse  ;  I  intend,  however,  to  ex- 
plain them  all  in  the  remaining  part  of  this 
the  more  brevity  I  am  obliged  to  observe,  the 
more  attention  you  ought  to  give. 

I.  Truth  has  a  light  superior  to  all  the 
glimmerings  of  error.  Some  men,  I  grant, 
are  as  tenacious  of  error,  as  others  are  of 
truth.  False  religions  have  disciples,  wh» 
seem  to  be  as  sincerely  attached  to  them,  as 
believers  are  to  true  religion:  and  if  Jesus 
Christ  has  his  martyrs,  Satan  also  has  his. 

Yet  1  aflirm,  that  the  persuasion  of  a  many 
who  deceives  himself,  is  never  equal  to  that 
of  a  man  who  does  not  deceive  himself.  How 
similar  soever  that  impression  may  appear, 
which  falsehood  makes  on  the  mind  of  him 
who  is  seduced  by  it,  to  that  which  truth 
makes  on  liie  mindofhim  who  is  enlightened 
by  it ;  there  is  always  this  grand  difference, 
the  force  of  truth  is  irresistible,  whereas  it  is 
always  possible  to  resist  that  of  error. 

The  force  of  a  known  truth  is  irresistible. 
There  are,  it  is  granted,  some  truths,  thera 
are  even  infinite  numbers,  which  lie  beyond 
the  stretch  of  my  capacity  :  and  there  may 
also  be  obstacles,  that  hinder  my  knowledge 


Ser.  XXV] 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


239 


of  a  truth  proportional  to  the  extent  of  my 
mind.     There  may,  indeed,  be  many  distrac- 
tions, which  may  cause  me  to   lose  sight  of 
the  proofs  that  establish  a  truth  ;    and  there 
may  be  many  passions  in  me,  which  may  in- 
duce me  to  wish  it  could  not  be  proved,  and 
which,  by  urging  me  to  employ  the  whole 
capacity  of  my  mind  in   considering  objec- 
tions against  it,  leave  me  no  pnrt  of  my  per- 
ception to  attend  to  what  establishes  it.    Yet 
all  these  cannot  dimini'^h  the  liarht  which   is 
essential  to  truth  ;  none  of  these  can  prevent 
a  known  truth  from   carrying  away  the  con- 
sent in  an   invincible    manner.     As    a  cloud, 
that  conceals  the  sun,  does  not  diminish  the 
splendour  which  is  essential  to  that  globe  of 
fire  ;  so  all  the  obstacles,  which  prevent  my  1 
knowledge  of  a  truth,    that  lies    within  the  | 
reach  of  my  capacity,  cannot  prevent  my  re-  1 
ceivin:>'  the  evidence  of  it,  in  spite  of  myself,  i 
as  sonn  as  I  become  attentive  to  it.     It  does  | 
not  depend  on  me    to  believe,   that  from  the  j 
addition  of  two  to  two  there  results  the  nura-  ' 
ber  four.     It  is  just  the  same  with  the  truths  \ 
of  pliilosophy;    the    same  with  the  truths  of  ^ 
religion,  and  the  same  with  all  the  known 
truths  in  the  world.     To  speak  strictly,  the 
knowledge  of  a  truth,  and   the   belief  of  a 
truth,  is  one  and  the  same  operation  of  the 
mind.      Mental  liberty  does  not    consist  in 
believing,  or  in  not  believing  a  known  truth  ; 
it  consists  in  giving,  or  in  not  giving,  that  at- 
tention to  a  truth  which  is  requisite  in  order 
to  obtain  the  knowledge  of  it.     Merit,  and 
demerit   (allow   me   these   expressions,  and 
take  them  in  a  good  sense,)   merit  and  de- 
merit do  not  consist  in  believing,   or  in  dis- 
believing,   a   known   truth ;    for   neither    of 
these   depend  upon  us  ;  they  consist  in  re- 
sisting,  or  in   not   resisting,     the    obstacles 
which  prevent  the  knowledre  of  it.   We  con- 
clude, then,  that  the  force  of  a  known  truth 
is  irresistible. 

It  is  not  the  same  with  error.  How  strong 
soever  the  prejudices  may  be  that  plead  for 
it,  it  is  always  possible  to  resist  it.  Never 
was  a  man  deceived  in  an  invincible  manner. 
There  is  no  error  so  specious,  in  regard  to 
which  a  man,  whose  mental  powers  are  in  a 
good  state,  and  not  depraved  by  a  long  habit 
of  precipitation,  cannot  suspend  his  judg- 
ment. 

I  do  not  say,  that  every  man  is  always 
capable  of  unravelling  a  sophism  :  but  it  is 
one  thing  not  to  be  able  to  unravel  a  sophism, 
and  it  is  another  to  be  invincibly  carried 
awiy  with  its  evidence.  Nor  do  I  affirm, 
that  a  man  will  always  find  it  easy  to  suspend 
his  judgment.  What  there  is  of  the  plausi- 
ble in  some  errors  ;  our  natural  abhorrence 
of  labour ;  the  authority  of  our  seducers  ;  the 
interest  of  our  passions  in  being  seduced  ; 
each  of  these  separately,  all  these  together, 
will  render  it  sometimes  extremely  difficult 
to  us  to  suspend  our  judgments,  an  1  will  hur- 
ry us  on  to  rash  conclusions.  It  belongs  to 
human  frailty  to  prefer  an  easy  faith  above 
a  laborious  discussion ;  and  we  rather 
choose  to  believe  we  have  found  the  truth, 
than  submit  to  the  trou'le  of  looking  for  it. 

It  is  certain  however,  when  we  compare 
what  passed  in  our  minds,  when  we  yielded 
to  a  truth,  with  what  passed  there  when  we 


sufiTered  ourselves  to  be  seduced  by  an  error, 
we  perceive,  that  in  the  latter  case  our  ac- 
quiescence proceeded  from  an  abuse  of  our 
reason  ;  whereas  in  the  former  it  came  from 
our  fair  and  proper  use  of  it.  Truth,  then, 
has  a  light  sunerior  to  the  fflimmprings  of 
error.  There  is,  therefore,  something  great- 
er in  a  man  whom  truth  irradiates,  than  there 
is  in  a  man  whom  falsehood   blinds 

Let  us  abridge  our  subject.  Let  us  apply 
what  we  have  said  of  truth  in  jreneral  to  the 
truths  of  religion  in  particular.  To  enter 
more  fully  into  the  desiorn  of  our  text,  let  us 
make  no  difficulty  of  retirJn?  'rom  it  to  a 
certain  point,  and  leaving  Ebion,  Cerinthus, 
and  Simon  the  sorcerer,  whom,  probably, 
St.  John  had  in  view,  let  us  stop  at  a  famous 
modern  controversy.  Let  us  attend  to  the 
contest  between  a  believer  of  ravelation  and 
a  skeptic,  and  we  shall  see  the  superior  evi- 
dence of  that  principle  of  truth,  which  en- 
lightens the  first,  above  the  nrinciple  of  er- 
ror, which  blinds  the  last.  What  a  superi- 
ority has  a  believer  over  a  skeptic  ?  What  a 
superiority  at  the  tribunal  of  authority '  at 
the  tribunal  of  interest !  at  the  tribunal  of 
history  I  at  the  tribunal  of  conscience  !  at 
the  tribunal  of  reason !  at  the  tribunal  of 
skepticism  itself!  From  each  of  these  it 
may  be  truly  pronounced,  '  Greater  is  he 
that  is  in  you,  than  he  that  is  in  the 
world' 

1.  The  believer  is  superior  at  the  tribunal 
of  authoritij.  The  skeptic  objects  ag'inst 
the  believer,  the  examples  of  some  few  na- 
tions, who,  it  is  said,  live  with  religion  ;  and 
those  of  some  philosophers,  whose  pretended 
atheism  has  rendered  them  famous.  The 
believer  reolies  to  the  skeptic,  bv  urgin?  his 
well-grounded  suspicions  in  regard  to  those 
historians,  and  travellers,  who  have  published 
such  examples ;  and,  opposing  authority 
against  authority,  in  favour  of  the  grand 
leading  principles  of  relifrion,  he  alleges  the 
unanimous  consent  of  the  whole  known, 
world 

2.  At  the  tribunal  of  interest.  The  skep- 
tic resists  the  believer,  by  areuing  the  con- 
straint which  rpliffion  continually  puts  on 
mankind-,  the  pleasure  of  pursuing  every 
wish,  without  being-  terrified  with  the  idea  of 
a  formid-ihle  witness  of  our  actions,  or  a  fu- 
ture account  of  our  conduct.  Thr'  bel'ever 
resists  the  skeptic,  by  aro-uino-  the  benefit  Of 
society,  which  wonld  entirely  be  subverted, 
if  infidels  could  effect  their  dreadful  design, 
of  demolishinor  those  bulwarks,  which  reli- 
gion builds.  He  urjes  the  interest  of  each 
individual,  who  in  those  periods  of  life,  in 
which  he  is  disgusted  with  the  world  :  in 
those,  in  which  he  is  exposed  to  catastrophes 
of  glory  and  fortune  ;  above  all,  in  the  pe- 
riod of  death,  has  no  refufje  from  despair, 
if  the  hopes,  that  religion  affords,  be  ground- 
less. 

3.  At  the  tribunal  of  history.  The  skep- 
tic objects  to  the  believer  the  impossibility 
of  obtaining  demonstration,  properly  so  call- 
ed, of  distant  facts.  The  believer  urges  on. 
the  infidel  his  own  acquiescence  in  the  evi- 
dence of  events,  as  ancient  as  those,  the  dis- 
tance of  which  is  objected  ;  and.  turning  his 
own  w^eapons  against  him,  he  demonstrates 


240 


THE  SUPERIOR  EVIDENCE  AND 


[See.  XXV 


to  him,  that  reasons,  still  stronger  than  those, 
which  constrain  the  skeptic  to  admit  other 
events,  such  as  number  of  witnesses,  unani- 
mity of  historians,  sacrifices  made  to  certify 
the  testimony,  and  a  thousand  more  similar 
.proofs,  ought  to  engage  him  to  believe  the 
iacts  on  which  religion  is  founded. 

4.  At  the  tribunal  of  conscience.  The  in- 
fidel opposes  his  own  experience  to  the  be- 
liever, and  boasts  of  having  shaken  off  the 
yoke  of  this  tyrant.  The  believer  replies, 
\>y  relating  the  experiences  of  the  most  cele- 
brated skeptics,  and,  using  the  infidel  him- 
self for  a  demonstration  of  the  truths,  which 
he  pretends  to  subvert,  reproaches  him  with 
feeling,  in  spite  of  hmself,  the  remorse  of  that 
conscience,  from  which  he  affects  to  have 
freed  himself;  he  proves  that  it  awakes 
when  lightnings  flash,  when  thunders  roll  in 
the  air,  when  the  messengers  of  death  ap- 
proach to  execute  their  terrible  ministry. 

5.  At  the  tribunal  o£  reason.  The  skeptic 
objects  to  the  believer,  that  religion  demands 
the  sacrifice  of  reason  of  its  disciples ;  that 
it  reveals  abstruse  doctrines,  and  incompre- 
hensible mysteries.'  and  that  it  requires  all 
to  receive  its  decisions  with  an  entire  sub- 
mission. The  believer  opposes  the  infidel, 
by  arguing  the  infallibility  of  the  intelligence 
who  revealed  these  doctrines  to  us.  He 
proves  to  him,  that  the  best  use  that  can  be 
made  of  reason,  is  to  renotmce  it  in  the 
sense  in  which  revelation  require  its  renun- 
ciation, so  that  reason  never  walks  a  path  so 
safe,  nor  is  ever  elevated  to  <t, degree  of  ho- 
nour so  eminent,  as  when  ceasinj^  to  see  with 
its  own  eyes,  it  sees  only  with  the  eyes  of 
the  infallible  God. 

C.  The  believer  triumphs  over  the  infidel 
at  the  tribvmal  of  skepticism  itself  One  sin- 
gle degree  of  probability  in  the  system  of 
the  believer,  in  our  opinion,  disconcerts  and 
confounds  the  system  of  the  skeptic  ;  at  least 
it  ought  to  embitter  all  the  fancied  sweets  of 
infidelity.  What  satisfaction  can  a  man  of 
sense  find  in  that  boasted  independence, 
which  the  system  of  infidelity  procures,  if 
there  be  the  least  shadow  of  a  probability  of 
its  plunging  him  into  endless  misery  ^  But 
this  very  man,  who  finds  the  evidences  of  re- 
ligion too  weak  to  induce  a  man  of  sense  to 
control  his  passions,  during  the  momentary 
duration  of  this  life,  this  very  man  finds  the 
system  of  infidelity  so  evident,  that  it  enga- 
ges him  to  dare  that  eternity  of  misery  which 
religion  denounces  against  the  impenitent. 
What  a  contrast !  The  obstinate  skeptic 
falls  into  a  credulity  that  would  be  unpardon- 
able in  a  child.  These  fiery  globes,  that 
revolve  over  our  heads  with  so  much  pomp 
and  glory ;  these  heavens  that  declare  the 
glory  of  God,  Ps.  xix.  1 ;  that  firmament, 
■which  shows  his  handy-work  ;  these  succes- 
sions of  seasons ;  that  symmetry  of  body ; 
f  hese  faculties  of  mind  ;  the  martyrs,  who  at- 
tested the  truth  of  the  facts  on  which  religion 
is  founded ;  the  miracles,  that  confirm  the 
facts  ;  that  harmony,  between  the  prophicies 
and  their  accomplishment ;  and  all  the  other 
numerous  arguments,  that  establish  the  doc- 
trine of  the  existence  of  God,  and  of  the 
truth  of  revelation  ;  all  these,  he  pretends, 
cannot  prove  enough  to  engage  him  to  ren- 


der homage  to  a  Supreme  Being :  and  the 
few  difficulties,  which  he  objects  to  us ;  a 
few  rash  conjectures ;  a  system  of  doubts  and 
uncertainties,  seem  to  him  sufficiently  con- 
clusive to  engage  him  to  brave  that  ado 
rable  Being,  and  to  ertpose  himself  to  all 
the  miseries  that  attend  those  who  affront 
him. 

We  conclude,  then,  that  our  first  proposi- 
tion is  sufficiently  justified.  Truth  in  gene- 
ral, the  truths  of  reUgion  in  particular,  have 
a  light  superior  to  all  the  glimmerings  of  er- 
ror. '  Greater  is  he  that  is  in  you,  than  he 
that  is  in  the  world.' 

II.  We  said,  in  the  second  place,  motives 
to  virtue  are  superior  to  motives  to  vice. 
This  proposition  is  a  necessary  consequence 
of  the  first.  Every  motive  to  vice  supposes 
that  in  some  cases,  it  is  more  advantageous 
to  a  man  to  abandon  himself  to  vice  than  to 
cleave  inviolably  to  virtue :  this  is  a  false- 
hood ;  this  is  even  a  falsehood  of  the  gross- 
est kind.  In  what  case  can  a  creature  pro- 
mise himself  more  happiness  in  rebelling 
against  his  Creator,  than  in  submitting  to 
his  authority .'  In  what  case  can  we  hope 
for  more  happiness  in  pleasing  Satan  than  in 
pleasing  God .'' 

What  I  affirmed  of  all  kno\vn  truth,  that, 
its  force  is  irresistible,  I  affirm  on  the  same 
principle,  of  all  motives  to  virtue :  tlie  most 
hardened  sinners  cannot  resist  them  if  they 
attend  to  them,  nor  is  tliere  any  other  way 
of  becoming  insensible  to  them,  than  that  of 
turning  the  e3'es  away  from  them.  Dissipa- 
tion is  the  usual  cause  of  our  irregularities. 
The  principal,  I  had  almost  said,  the  only  se- 
cret of  Satan,  in  his  abominable  plan  of  hu- 
man destruction,  is  to  dissipate  and  to  stun 
mankind  ;  the  noise  of  company,  the  din  of 
amusements,  the  bustle  of  business  ;  it  docs 
not  signify  if  it  be  but  a  noise,  it  will  always 
produce  its  effect ;  it  will  always  divide  the 
capacity  of  the  mind,  it  will  prevent  him,  in 
whose  ears  it  sounds,  from  thinking  and  re- 
reflecting,  from  pursuing  an  argument  and 
from  attending  to  the  weight  of  conclusive 
evidence. 

And  really,  where  is  the  man  so  blind  as  to 
digest  the  falsehoods  which  motives  of  vice 
imply  .'  WJiere  is  the  wretch  so  resolute  as 
to  reason  in  this  manner  .•" 

'  I  love  to  be  esteemed  ;  I  will  therefore 
devote  myself  wholly  to  the  acquisition  of 
the  esteem  of  those  men  who,  like  nie,  will 
shortly  be  devoured  with  worms ;  whose 
ashes,  like  mine,  will  be  shortly  confounded 
with  the  dust  of  the  earth :  but  I  will  not 
take  the  least  pains  to  obtain  the  approbation 
of  those  noble  intelligencies,  those  sublime 
geniuses,  tliose  angels  and  seraphims,  who 
incessantly  surround  the  throne  of  God  ;  I 
will  not  give  myself  a  moment's  concern 
about  obtaining  a  share  of  those  praises;, 
which  the  great  God  will  one  day  bestow, 
in  rich  abundance  before  heaven  and  earth, 
on  them  who  have  been  faithful  to  him. 

I  love  honour ;  I  will  therefore  apply  my- 
self wholly  to  make  the  world  say  of  me, 
That  man  has  an  excellent  taste  tor  dress ; 
his  table  is  delicately  served ;  the  noble 
blood  of  his  family  was  never  debased  by 
ignoble  alliances;  nobody  can   offend  him 


See.  XXV.] 


INFLUENCE  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


241 


with  impunity  ;  he  must  always  be  approach- 
ed with  respect :  but  I  will  never  give  myself 
any  trouble  to  force  them  to  say  of  me,  that 
man  fears  God ;  he  prefers  his  duty  above  all 
other  things  ;  he  thinks  there  is  more  magna- 
nimity in  giving  an  affront  than  in  revenging 
it;  to  be  holy,  in  his  opinion,  is  better  than 
to  be  noble  in  the  world's  esteem,  and  so  on. 

I  am  very  fond  of  pleasure  ;  I  will  there- 
fore give  myself  wholly  to  the  gratification  of 
my  senses  ;  to  the  leading  of  a  voluptuous 
life  ;  a  feast  shall  be  succeeded  by  an  amuse- 
ment, and  an  amusement  shall  conduct  to  de- 
bauchery ;  this  round  I  intend  perpetually  to 
pursue  :  but  I  will  never  stir  one  step  to  ob- 
tain that  '  fulness  of  joy,'  which  is  'at  God's 
right  hand,'  that  '  river  of  pleasures,'  with 
which  '  they,  who  put  their  trust  under  the 
shadow  of  his  wings,  are  abundantly  satisfied,' 
Ps.  xvi.  11,  and  xxxvi.  7,  8. 

I  hate  constraint  and  trouble  ;  I  will  there- 
fore divert  my  attention  wholly  from  all  peni- 
tential exercises ;  and  particularly  from  im- 
prisonment, banishment,  racks,  and  stakes  : 
but  I  will  brave  the  chains  of  darkness,  with 
their  galling  weight ;  the  devils,  with  their 
fury ;  hell,  with  its  flames  ;  I  am  at  a  point,  I 
consent  to  curse  eternally  the  day  of  my 
birth ;  eternally  to  consider  annihilation  as 
an  invaluable  good  ;  to  seek  death  for  ever 
without  finding  it ;  for  ever  to  blaspheme  my 
Creator  ;  eternally  to  hear  the  bowlings  of 
the  damned ;  to  howl  eternally  with  them  ; 
like  them,  to  be  forever  and  ever  the  object 
of  that  condemning  sentence,'  Depart  from 
me,  ye  cursed  I  into  everlasting  fire,  prepa- 
red for  the  devil  and  his  angels,'  Matt.  xxv. 
41.  I  ask  again,  Where  is  the  wretch  hard- 
ened enough  to  digest  these  propositions  ? 
Yet  these  are  the  motives  to  vice.  Is  not  the 
developing  of  these  sufficient  to  discover, 
that  they  ought   to   yeld   to   virtue,  and   to 

!)rove  in  our  second  sense,  that  '  Greater  is 
le  that  is  in  us,  than  he  that  is  in  the 
world .'" 

But,  how  active  soever  the  light  of  religion 
may  be,  prejudices  often  cover  its  brightness 
from  us ;  how  superior  soever  motives  to 
virtue  may  be  to  motives  to  vice,  our  pas- 
sions invigorate  motives  to  vice,  and  ener- 
vate those  to  virtue.  Were  we  even  free 
irom  innate  dispositions  to  sin,  we  should  be 
hurried  into  it  by  an  external  enemy,  who 
studies  our  inclinations,  adapts  liimself  to  our 
taste,  avails  himself  of  our  frailties,  manages 
circumstances," and  who,  according  to  the  ex- 
pression of  an  apostle,  *  walketh  about  as  a 
roaring  lion,  seeking  whom  he  may  devour,' 
1  Pet.  v.  8.    This  enemy  is  Satan. 

III.  But  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  opens  our 
eyes  (and  this  is  my  third  proposition),  the 
Holy  Spirit,  who  opens  our  eyes  to  show  us 
the  light  of  truth,  and  who  touches  our  hearts 
to  make  us  feel  the  force  of  virtuous  motives, 
is  infinitely  more  powerful  than  Satan. 

I  do  not  pretend  to  agitate  here  the  indis- 
soluble question  concerning  the  power  of  the 
devil  over  sublunary  beings,  and  particularly 
over  man :  what  I  should  advance  on  this 
subject  would  not  be  very  agreeable  to  my 
hearers.  We  are  naturally  inclined  to  attri- 
bute too  much  to  the  devil,  and  we  easily 
persuade  ourselves  that  weaie  in  an  enchant- 


ed world.  It  seems  to  us  that  as  many  de- 
grees of  power  as  we  add  to  those  which 
God  has  given  the  tempter,  so  many  apolo- 
gies we  acquire  for  our  frailties;  and  that  the 
more  power  the  enemy  has,  with  whom  we 
are  at  war,  the  more  excusable  we  are  for 
suffering  ourselves  to  be  conquered,  and  for 
yielding  to  superior  force.  Do  we  revolve 
any  black  design  in  our  minds  .•'  It  is  the  de- 
vil who  inspires  us  with  it.  Do  we  lay  a 
train  for  executing  any  criminal  intrigue  ?  It 
is  the  devil  who  invented  it.  Do  we  forget 
our  prayers,  our  promises,  our  protestations  ? 
It  is  the  devil  who  effaced  them  from  our 
memory.  My  brethren,  do  you  know  who  is 
the  most  terrible  tempter.  Our  own  cupidity. 
Do  you  know  what  devil  is  the  most  formida- 
ble ?  It  is  self 

But,  passing  reflections  of  this  kind,  and 
taking,  in  its  plain  and  obvious  meaning,  a 
truth  which  the  holy  Scriptures  in  a  great 
man\'  places  attest,  that  is,  that  the  devil  con- 
tinually endeavours  to  destroy  mankind  ;  I  re- 
peat my  third  proposition,  The  Holy  Spirit, 
who  watches  to  save  us,  is  infinitely  more 
powerful  than  the  devil,  who  seeks  to  destroy 
us. 

The  power  of  Satan  is  a  harrowed  power. 
This  mischievous  spirit  cannot  move  without 
the  permission  of  God  ;  yea,  he  is  only  a  min- 
ister of  his  will.  This  appears  in  the  history 
of  Job.  Jealous  of  the  prosperity,  more  still 
of  the  virtue  of  that  holy  man,  he  thought  he 
could  corrupt  his  virtue  by  touching  his  pros- 
perity. But  he  could  not  execute  one  of  his 
designs  farther  than,  by  God  loosing  his  rein, 
allowed  him  to  execute  it.  The  power  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  is  a  power  proper  and  essential 
to  him  who  exercises  it. 

Because  the  power  of  the  devil  is  a  borrowed 
power,  it  is  a  limited  power,  and  although  we 
are  incapable  of  determining  its  bounds,  yet 
we  may  reasonabl}'  believe  they  are  narrow. 
'  Jehovah  will  not  give  his  glory  to  any  other,' 
isa.  xlii.  8 ;  least  of  all  will  he  give  it  to 
such  an  unworthy  being  as  the  devil. 

The  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God  is  a  bound- 
less power.  He  acts  on  exterior  beings  to 
make  them  concur  in  our  salvation.  He  acts 
on  our  blood  and  humours,  to  stir  them  to  mo- 
tion, or  to  reduce  them  to  a  calm.  He  acts 
on  our  spirits,  I  mean  on  those  subtile  parti- 
cles which, with  inconceivable  rapidit}',  convey 
themselves  into  the  divers  organs  of  our 
bodies,  and  have  an  extensive  influence  over 
our  faculties.  He  acts  on  our  memories,  to 
impress  them  with  some  objects,  and  to  eflace 
others.  He  acts  immediately  on  the  sub- 
stance of  our  souls;  he  produces  ideas;  he 
excites  sensations  ;  he  suspends  the  natural 
effects  of  their  union  to  the  body.  He  some- 
times, by  this  suspension,  renders  a  martyr 
insensible  to  the  action  of  the  flames  that 
consume  him  ;  and  teaches  him  to  say  even 
amidst  the  most  cruel  torments,  '  I  glory  in 
tribulations,  knowing  that  tribulation  worketh 
patience  ;  and  patience  e-\perience,  or  proof ' 
(this  is  a  metaphor  taken  from  gold,  which  is 
proved  by  the  fire  that  purifies  it),  '  and  ex- 
perience hope  ;  and  hope  maketh  not  asha- 
med, because  the  love  of  God  is  shed  abroad 
in  my  heart  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  giv- 
en unto  me,'  Rom.  y.  3—5. 


242 


THE  SUPERIOR  EVIDENCE,  &c. 


ISer.  XXV-. 


As  the  power  of  Satan  is  limited  in  its  de- 
grees, so  is  it  also  in  its  duration.  Recollect 
a  visiou  of  St.  John.  '  I  saw,'  said  he  , '  an 
angel  come  down  from  heaven,  having  the 
key  of  the  bottomless  pit,  and  a  great  chain 
in  his  hand.  And  he  laid  hold  on  the  dragon, 
that  old  serpent,  which  is  the  devil  and  Satan, 
and  bound  him  a  thousand  years,  and  cast 
him  into  the  bottomless  pit,  and  shut  him  up, 
and  set  a  seal  upon  him  that  he  should  de- 
ceive the  nations  no  more.'  Rev.  xx.  1 — 3. 
Without  making  any  vain  attempts  to  fix 
the  sense  of  this  vision,  let  us  be  content  to 
derive  this  instruction  from  it,  that  the  power 
of  the  devil  is  limited  in  its  duration,  as  well 
as  in  its  degrees.  There  are  periods  in 
which  Satan  is  bound  with  the  chain  of  the 
superior  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  There 
are  times  in  which  he  is  shut  up  in  a  prison, 
sealed  with  the  seal  of  the  decrees  of  God  ; 
a  seal  that  no  created  power  can  open. 

The  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God  is  without 
limits  in   its  periods  as  it    is    in  its  degrees. 
Christian !    the    worse    thy    times    are,    the 
jnore  ready  will  this  spirit  be  to  succour  thee, 
if  thou  implore  his  aid.     Art  thou  near  some 
violent  operation  ?    Does  an  object   fatal   to 
thine  innocence  fill  thee  with  fear  and  dread  ? ; 
'Do  the  sorrows  of  death  compass  thee.'  Do  the  j 
pains  of  hell  get  hold  on  thee  ?  Call  upon  the  i 
name  of  the  Lord  ;'  say, '  O  Lord !  I  beseech 
thee,  deliver  my  soul,'  Ps.  cxvi.  3,  4.  He  will . 
hear  thy  voice,  and   thy  supplications ;    and, 
by  the  mighty  action  of  his  Spirit,  he    will  1 
*  deliver  thy  soul  from  death,  thine  eyes  from 
tears,  and  thy  feet  from  falling,'  ver.  1.8. 

How  invincible  soever  the  hatred  of  Satan 
to  us  may  appear,  it  cannot  equal  the  love  of 
God  for  us  ;  whatever  desire  the  devil  may 
have  to  destroy  us,  it  cannot  compare  with 
that  which  the  Holy  Spirit  has  to  save  us.  It 
would  be  easy  to  enlarge  these  articles,  and 
to  increase  their  number  ;  but  our  time  is 
nearly  elapsed.  What  success  can  Satan 
have  against  a  Spirit  armed  with  so  much 
power,  and  animated  with  so  much  love  .' 
'  Surely,  there  is  no  enchantment  against  Ja- 
cob, neither  is  there  any  divination  against 
Israel.  Ye  have  overcome  th^m ;  because 
greater  is  he  that  is  in  you,  than  he  that  is  in 
the  world.' 

My  brethren,  the  age  for  which  God  has 
reserved  us  has  a  great  resemblance  to  that 
of  that  of  the  apostles.  Satan  is  as  indefati- 
gable now  in  his  attempts  to  destroy  man- 
kind as  he  was  then.  We  also  have  our  Si- 
mons, who  call  themselves  'the  great  power 
of  God.'  We  have  men  like  Ebion  and  Ce- 
rinthus  :  and  if  the  ministers  of  Jesus  Christ 
conquer  the  world,  the  world  also  conquers 
some  of  the  ministers  of  Christ. 

In  which  class,  my  brethren,  must  you  be 
placed  ?  In  that  of  the  disciples  of  false 
Christs,  or  in  that  of  the  disciples  of  the  true 
Saviour  ?  In  the  class  of  those  whom  the 
world  conquers,  or  in  the  classF  of  those 
who  have  conquered  the  world  ?  On  a  clear 
answer  to  this  question  depends  the  conse- 
quence you  must  draw  from  the  words  of  the 
text. 

If  you  be  of  those  who  are  overcome  by 
the  world,  the  text  should  alarm  and  confound 
you.    You  have  put  arms  into  the  hands  of 


this  enemy.  Nothing  but  a  fund  of  obstinacy 
and  malice  could  have  induced  you  to  resist 
the  superior  means  which  God  has  employed 
to  save  you.  You  are  that  vineyard,  of 
which  the  prophet  said,  '  My  well-beloved 
hath  a  vineyard  in  a  very  fruitful  hill ;  and 
he  fenced  it,  and  built  a  tower,  and  planted  it 
with  the  choicest  vine  ;  and  he  looked  that  it 
should  bring  forth  grapes,  and  it  brought 
forth  wild  grapes,'  Isa.  v.  1 — 3  ;  and  as  you 
are  the  original  of  this  portrait,  you  are  also 
the  object  of  the  following  threatening, 
'  And  now,  O  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  I  will 
tell  you  what  I  will  do  to  my  vineyard.  I 
will  take  away  the  hedge  thereof,  and  it  shall 
be  eaten  up,  and  break  down  the  wall  there- 
of, and  it  shall  be  trodden  down,  and  I  will  lay 
it  waste,  I  will  also  command  the  clouds,  that 
they  rain  no  rain  upon  it,'  ver.  5,  6. 

But  the  text  ourht  to  fill  you  with  joy 
and  consolation,  if  you  be  of  those  who  h-ve 
overcome  the  world.  What  pleasure  does  it 
afford  a  believer  to  remember  bis  combats 
with  the  world  and  his  conquests  over  it  ! 
What  unspeakable  pleasure,  to  be  able  to  say 
to  himself,  '  In  my  youth  my  vigorous  con 
constitution  seemed  to  threaten  to  drive  me 
to  the  utmost  excesses  ;  in  my  mature  age, 
I  walked  in  some  slipnery  paths,  which  made 
me  almost  despair  of  preserving  my  candour 
and  innocence;  here,  a  certain  conipany  had 
an  absolute  authority  over  my  mind,  and 
used  it  only  to  seduce  me  ;  there,  an  invrfe- 
rate  enemy  put  my  resolution  to  the  severest 
trial,  and  exhausted  almost  all  my  patience  ; 
here,  false  teachers,  who  were  so  dexter-^us 
in  the  art  of  enveloping  the  truth,  that  the 
most  piercing  eyes  could  scarcely  discern  it, 
had  well  nigh  beguiled  me  ;  there,  violent 
persecutors  endeavoured  to  force  me  to  an 
open  abjuration  of  religion.  Thanks  be  to 
God  !  I  have  resisted  all  these  efforts  ;  and, 
although  Satan  has  sometmies  succeeded  in 
his  designs,  and  has  made  me  totter,  he  has 
always  tailed  in  his  main  purpose,  of  making 
me  fall  finally,  and  of  tearing  me  for  ever 
from  the  communion  of  Jesus  Christ.' 

The  victories  you  have  obtained,  my  ber- 
thren,  are  pledges  of  others  which  you  will 
yet  obtain.  Come  again,  next  Lords  day, 
and  renew  your  strength  at  the  table  of  Je- 
sus Christ.  Come,  and  promise  him  anew, 
that  you  will  be  always  faithful  to  that  reli- 
gion, the  light  of  which  shines  in  your  eyes 
with  so  much  glory.  Come,  and  protest  to 
him,  that  you  will  give  yourselves  wholly  up 
to  those  powerful  motives  to  virtue  which 
his  gospel  affords.  Come,  and  devote  your- 
selves entirely  to  that  Spirit  wliich  he  has 
given  you.  Having  done  these  things,  fear 
nothing  ;  let  your  courage  redouble,  as  your 
dangers  increase. 

All  the  attacks,  which  Satan  has  made  on 
your  faith  to  this  day,  should  prepare  you 
for  the  greatest  and  most  formidable  attack 
of  all ;  '  ye  have  not  yet  resisted  unto  blood, 
striving  against  sin,'  Heb.  xii.  4.  The  last 
enemy  that  shall  '  be  destroyed  is  death,'  1 
Cor.  XV.  26.  The  approaches  of  death  are 
called  '  an  agony,'  that  is,  the  combat  by 
excellence.  Then  Satan  will  attack  you 
with  cutting  griefs,  with  doubts  and  remorse. 
He  will  represent  to  you  a  deplorable  family, 


Sfea.  XXVI.] 


THE  ABSURDITY  OF  LIBERTINISM,  &c. 


243 


whoso  cries  will  pierce  your  hearts,  and 
which,  by  tightening  the  ties  that  bind  you 
to  the  world,  will  retain  your  souls  on  earth, 
while  they  long  to  ascend  to  heaven.  He 
will  terrify  you  with  ideas  of  divine  justice, 
and  '  fiery  indignation,  which  shall  devour 
the  dversaries,'  Heb.  x.  27.  He  will  paint 
dismal  col  lurs  to  you,  the  procession  at 
your  funeral,  the  torch,  the  shroud,  and  the 
grave. 

But  '  he  who  is  in  you,'  will  render  you 
invulnerable  to  all  these  attacks.  He  will 
represent  to  you  the  delightful  relations  you 
are  goin  j  to  form ;  the  heavenly  societies 
to  wnich  you  are  going  to  be  united ;  the 
blessed  angels,  waiting  to  receive  your  souls. 
He  will  show  you  that  m  the  tomb  of  Jesus 
Christ  which  will  sanctify  yours.    He  will 


remind  you  of  that  death  of  the  Saviour 
which  renders  your's  precious  in  the  sight  of 
God.  He  will  open  the  gates  of  heaven  to 
you,  and  will  enable  you  to  see,  without  a 
sigh,  the  foundations  of  the  earth  sinking 
away  from  your  feet.  He  will  change  the 
groans  of  your  death-beds  into  songs  of  tri- 
umph ;  and,  amidst  all  your  horrors,  he  will 
teach  each  of  you  to  exult,  '  Blessed  be  th? 
Lord  my  strength,  who  teacheth  my  hands 
to  war,  and  my  fingers  to  fight,'  Ps.  cxliv.  1. 
'  Thanks  be  unto  God,  who  always  causeth 
us  to  triumph  in  Christ,'  2  Cor.  ii.  14.  '  O 
death  where  is  thy  sting  .'  O  grave,  where 
is  thy  victory .-"  1  Cor.  xv.  55.  God  grant 
you  this  blessing.  To  him  be  honour  and 
glory.     Amen. 


SERMON  XXVI. 


THE  ABSURDITY  OF  LIBERTINISM  AND  INFIDELITY. 


Psalm  xciv.  7 — 10. 

They  say,  the  Lord  shall  not  see :  neither  shall  the  God  of  Jacob  regard  if. 
Understand  ye  brutish  among  the  people :  and  ye  fools,  when  will  ye  be 
wise?  He  that  planted  the  ear,  shall  he  not  hear?  He  that  formed  the  eye, 
shall  he  not  see  ?  He  that  chastiseth  the  heathen,  shall  not  he  correct  ?  He 
that  teacheth  man  knowledge,  shall  not  he  know? 


Invective  and  reproach  seldom  proceed  | 
from   the  mouth  of  a  man  wlio  loves  truth  ' 
and  defends  it.     They  are  the  unusual  wea- 
pons of  them  who  plead  a  desparate  cause ;  ! 
who  feel  themselves  hurt  by  a  formidable  ad-  I 
versary  who    have   not    the  equity  to  yield  j 
when   they   ought  to  yield  ;  and  who   have 
no  other  part  to  take  than  that  of  supply- 
ing   the   want   of   solid  reasons   by   odious  ' 
names.  I 

Yet,  whatever  charity  we  may  have  for  | 
erroneous  people,  it  is  difficult  to  see  with 
moderation  men  obstinately  maintaining  some 
errors,  guiding  their  minds  by  the  corruption 
of  their  hearts,  and  choosing  rather  to  ad- 
vance the  most  palpable  absurdities,  than  to 
give  the  least  check  to  the  most  irregular 
passions.  Hear  how  the  sacred  authors  treat 
people  of  this  character  :  '  My  people  is  fool- 
ish, they  have  not  known  me ;  tliey  are  sot- 
tish children,  they  have  no  understanding. 
The  ox  knoweth  his  owner,  and  the  ass,  his 
master's  crib  ;  but  Israel  doth  not  know,  my 
people  doth  not  consider.  Ephraim  is  like  a 
silly  dove  without  heart.  O  generation  of 
vipers,  who  hath  warned  you  to  flee  from 
the  wrath  to  come  ?  O  foolish  Galatians, 
who  hath  bewitched  you  i"  Jer.  iv.  22  ;  Isa. 
i.  3;  Hos.  vii.  11  ;  Matt.  iii.  7  ;  and  Gal. 
iii.  1. 

Not  to  multiply  examples,  let  it  suffice  to 
remark,  that  if  ever  there  were  men  who 
deserved  sach  odious  names,  they  eir^  such 


as  our  prophet  describes.  Those  abominable 
men,  I  mean,  who,  in  order  to  violate  the 
laws  of  religion  without  remorse,  maintain 
that  religion  is  a  chimera  ;  who  break  down 
all  the  bounds  which  God  has  set  to  the  wick- 
edness of  mankind,  and  who  determine  to  be 
obstinate  infidels,  that  they  may  be  peaceable 
libertines.  The  prophet  therefore  lays  aside, 
in  respect  to  them,  that  charity  which  a 
weak  mind  would  merit,  that  errs  only 
through  the  misfortune  of  a  bad  education, 
or  the  limits  of  a  narrow  capacity.  '  O  ye 
most  brutish  among  the  people,'  says  he  to 
them,  '  understand.  Ye  fools  when  will  ye 
be  wise .'" 

People  of  this  sort  I  intend  to  attack  to- 
day. Not  that  I  promise  myself  much  suc- 
cess with  them,  or  entertain  hopes  of  re- 
claiming them.  These  are  the  fools  of  whom 
Solomon  says,  '  though  thou  shouldest  bray 
a  fool  in  a  mortar  among  wheat  with  a  pestle, 
yet  will  not  his  foolishness  depart  from  him,' 
Prov.  xxvii.  22.  But  I  am  endeavouring  to 
prevent  the  progress  of  the  evil,  and  to  guard 
our  youth  against  favourable  impressions  of 
infidelity  and  libertinism,  which  have  already 
decoyed  away  too  many  of  our  young  people, 
and  to  confirm  you  all  in  your  attachment  to 
your  holy  religion.  Let  us  enter  into  the 
matter. 

In  the  stylo  of  the  sacred  authors,  parti- 
cularly in  that  of  our  prophet,  to  deny  the 
exiflteace  of  a  God,  the  doctrine  of  Provi- 


244 


THE  ABSURDITY  OF 


[Ser.  XK\t 


dence,  and  tlie  essential  difFerence  between 
just  and  unjust,  is  one  and  the  same  thing. 
Compare  the  psalm  out  of  which  I  have  taken 
my  text,  with  the  fourteenth,  with  the  fifty- 
third,  and  particularly  with  the  tenth,  and 
you  will  perceive,  that  the  prophet  confounds 
them,  who  say  in  their  hearts,  '  there  is  no 
God,'  with  those  who  say,  '  God  hath  forgot- 
ten ;  he  hideth  his  face,  he  will  never  see  it," 
Ps.  X.  11. 

In  effect,  although  the  last  of  these  doc- 
trines may  be  maintained  without  admitting 
the  first,  yet  the  last  is  no  less  essential  to  re- 
ligion than  the  first.  And  although  a  man 
may  be  a  deist,  and  an  epicurean,  without 
being  an  atheist,  yet  the  system  of  an  athe- 
ist is  no  more  odious  to  God  than  that  of  an 
epicurean,  and  that  of  a  deist. 

I   shall   therefore  make  but  one   man  of 


pain.'  Tolerable  reflections  in  a  book, plau- 
sible arguments  in  a  public  auditory  !  But, 
weak  reflections,  vain  arguments,  in  a  bed 
of  infirmity,  while  a  man  is  suffering  the 
pain  of  the  gout  or  the  stone  ! 

O  !  how  necessary  is  religion  to  us  in  these 
fatal  circumstances !  It  speaks  to  us  in  a 
manner  infinitely  more  proper  to  comfort  ue 
under  our  heaviest  afflictions !  Religion 
says  to  you,  '  Out  of  the  mouth  of  the  Most 
High  proceedeth  not  evil  and  good,'  Lam. 
iii.  38.  '  He  formeth  light,  and  createtli 
darkness;  he  maketh  peace,  and  crcateth 
evil,'  Isa.  xlv.  7.  '  Shall  there  be  evil  in 
the  city,  and  the  Lord  hath  not  done  it.'' 
Amos  iii.  6.  Religion  tells  you,  that  if  God 
afflicts  you  it  is  for  your  own  advantage ;  it 
is,  that,  being  uneasy  on  earth,  you  may 
take  your  flight  towards  heaven  ;  that '  your 


these  different  men,  and,  after  the  examble  ;  light  affliction,  which  is  but  for  a  moment, 
of  the  prophet,  I  shall  attack  iiim  with  the  I  may  work  for  you  a  far  more  exceeding  and 
same  arms.   In  order  to  justify  the  titles  that  {  eternal  weight  of  glory,'  2  Cor.  iv.  17.    Re- 


he  gives  an  infidel,  I  shall  attack, 

I.  His  taste. 

II.  His  policy. 
HI.  His  indocility. 

IV.  His  logic,  or,  to  speak  more  properly, 
his  way  of  reasoning. 

V.  His  morality. 

VI.  His  conscience. 

VII.  His  poUteness  and  knowledge  of  the 
world. 

In  all  these  reflections,  which  I  shall  pro- 
portion to  the  length  of  these  exercises,  I 


ligion  bids  you  '  not  to  think  it  strange,  con- 
cerning the  fiery  trial,  which  is  to  try  you, 
as  though  some  strange  thing  happened  unto 
you,'  1  Pet.  iv.  12,  but  to  believe,  that  'the 
trial  of  your  faith,  being  much  more  precious 
than  that  of  gold,  which  perisheth,  will  be 
found  unto  praise,  and  honour,  and  glory^ 
at  the  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ,'  chap, 
i.  7. 

But  religion  is  above  all  necessary  in  the 
grand  vicissitude,  in  the  fatal  point,  to  which 
all  the  steps  of  life  tend ;    I  mean,  at  the 


shall  pay  more  regard  to  the  genius  of  our  i  hour  of  death.     For  at  length,  after  we  have 
age  than  to  that  of  the  times  of  the  prophet :  I  rushed  into  all  pleasures,  after  we  have  sung 


and  I  shall  do  this  the  rather,  because 
we  cannot  determine  on  what  occasion  the 
psalm  was  composed  of  which  the  text  is  a 
part. 

■I.  If  )'ou  consider  tjie  taste,  the  discern- 
ment, and  choice  of  the  people,  of  whom  the 


well,  danced  well,  feasted  well,  we  must  die, 
we  must  die.  And  what,  pray,  except  re- 
ligion can  support  a  man,  struggling  with 
'  the  king  of  terrors  .■"  Job  xviii.  14.  A  man, 
who  sees  his  grandeur  abased,  his  fortune 
distributed,    his    connexions    dissolved,    his 


prophet  speaks,  you  will  see  he  had  a  great  ]  senses  benumbed,  his  grave  dug,  the  world 
right  to  denominate  them,  most  brutish  and  i  retiring  from  him,  his  bones  hanging  on  the 
foolish.'  What  an  excess  must  a  man  have  !  verge  of  the  grave,  and  iiis  soul  divided 
attained,  when  he  hates  a  religion  without  i  between   the  horrible  hope  of  sinking  into 


which  he  cannot  but  be  miserable  !  Who,  of 
the  happiest  of  mankind,  does  not  want  the 
succour  of  religion .''  What  disgraces  at 
court !  What  mortifications  in  the  army ! 
What  accidents  in  trade  !  What  uncertain- 
ty in  science  !  What  bitterness  in  pleasure  ! 
What  injuries  in  reputation  !  Wliat  incon- 
stancy in  riches  !  Wliat  disappointments  in 
projects !  What  infidelity  in  friendship ! 
What  vicissitudes  in  fortune !  Miserable 
man !  What  will  support  thee  under  so  ma- 
ny calamities  ?  What  miserable  comforters 
are  the  passions  in  these  sad  periods  of  life  ! 
How  inadequate  is  philosopliy  itself,  how 
improper  is  Zeno,  how  unequal  are  all  his 
followers,  to  the  task  of  calming  a  poor  mor- 
tals when  they  tell  him,  '  Misfortunes  are 
inseparable  from  human  nature.  No  man 
should  think  himself  exempt  from  any  thing 
that  belongs  to  the  condition  of  mankind.  If 
maladies  be  violent,  they  will  be  short ;  if 
they  be  long,  they  will  be  tolerable.  A  fatal 
necessity  prevails  over  ail  mankind ;  com- 
plaints and  regrets  cannot  change  the  order 
of  things.  A  generous  soul  should  be  supe- 
rior to  all  events,  it  should  despise  a  tyrant, 
defy  fortune,  and  render  itself  insensible  to 


nothing,  and  the  dreadful  fear  of  falling  into 
the  hands  of  an  angry  God. 

In  sight  of  these  formidable  objects,  fall, 
fall,  ye  bandages  of  infidelity  !  ye  veils  of 
obscurity  and  depravity  !  and  let  me  perceive 
how  necessary  religion  is  to  man.  It  is  that 
which  sweetens  the  bitterest  of  all  bitters. 
It  is  that  which  disarms  the  most  invincible 
monster.  It  is  that  which  transforms  the 
most  frightful  of  all  objects  into  an  object  of 
gratitude  and  joy.  It  is  that  which  calms 
the  conscience,  and  confirms  the  soul.  It  is 
that  which  presents  to  the  dying  behever 
another  being,  another  life,  another  economy, 
other  objects,  and  other  hopes.  It  is  that 
which,  '  while  the  outward  man  perisheth, 
reneweth  the  inward  man  day  by  day,'  2  Cor. 
iv.  16.  It  is  that  which  dissipates  tiie  hor- 
rors of  '  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,' 
Ps  xxiii  4.  It  is  that  which  cleaves  the 
clouds  in  the  sight  of  a  departing  Stephen  ; 
tells  a  converted  thief, '  to-day  shalt  thou  be- 
in  paradise,'  Luke  xxiii.  43,  and  cries  to  all 
true  penitents,  '  Blessed  are  tlie  dead  which 
die  in  the  Lord,'  Rev.  xiv.  13. 

H.  Having  taken  the  unbelieving  libertine 
on  his  own  interest,  I  take  hiia  on  the  public 


Ser.  XXVI.j 


LIBERTINISM  AND  INFIDELITY. 


34/5 


interest,  and  having  attacked  his  taste  and 
discernment,  1  attack  his  policy.  An  inndel 
is  a  disturber  of  public  peace  ;  who,  by  un- 
dertaking to  sap  the  foundations  of  religion, 
undermines  those  of  society.  Society  cannot 
subsist  -without  religion.  If  plausible  objec- 
tions may  be  formed  against  this  proposition, 
it  is  because  opponents  have  had  the  art  of 
disguising  it.  To  explain  it,  is  to  preclude 
the  sophisms  which  are  objected  against  it. 
Permit  us  to  lay  down  a  few  explanatory 
principles. 

First.  When  we  say.  Society  cannot  sub- 
sist without  religion,  we  do  not  comprehend 
in  our  proposition  all  the  religions  in  the 
world.  The  proposition  includes  only  those 
religions  which  retain  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples that  constitute  the  base  of  virtue ;  as 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  a  future  judg- 
ment, a  particular  Providence.  We  readily 
grant  there  may  be  in  the  world  a  religion 
worse  than  atheism ;  for  example,  any  re- 
ligion that  should  command  its  votaries  to 
kill,  to  assassinate,  to  betray.  And  as  we 
readily  grant  this  truth  to  those  who  take  the 
pains  to  maintain  it,  so  whatever  they  oppose 
to  us,  taken  from  the  religions  of  pagans, 
which  were  hurtful  to  society,  is  only  vain 
declamations,  that  prove  nothing  against 
«s. 

Secondly.    When  we  affirm.  Society  cannot 
subsist  without   religion,  we  do  not  pretend, 
that  religion,   which  retains  articles  safe  to 
society,  may  not  so  mix  those    articles  with 
other  principles    pernicious  to  it,  that  they  ; 
may  seem  at  first  sight  v^orse  than  atheism. 
We  affirm    only,  that  to  take   the  whole   of , 
such  a  religion,   it   is   move  advantageous  to  \ 
society  to  have  it  than  to  be  destitute  of  it.  j 
All,  therefore,  that   is  objected  against   our  i 
proposition  concerning  thuse  wars,  crusades,  ' 
and   persecutions,    which    were    caused    by  , 
superstition,  all  this   is  only  vain  sophistry,  . 
which  does  not  affect  our  thesis  in  tlie  least.  | 

Thirdly.    When    we    say,    Society   cannot 
subsist  without  religion,   we  do  not  say,  that 
religion,  even  the   purest  religion,    may  not  ' 
cause  some  disorders  in  society  ;    but  we  af- 
firm  only,    that    these    disorders,    however  i 
numerous,  cannot  counterbalance  the  benefits  [ 
which  religion   procures  to   it.     So    that  all 
objections,   taken    from  the    troubles    Vi'hich  . 
zeal  for  truth    may  have    produced    in  some  ! 
circumstances,  are  only  vain  objections,  that  ' 
cannot  weaken  our  proposition.  | 

Fourthly.  When  wc  affirm,  Society  cannot  j 
subsist  without  religion,  we  do  not  affirm  I 
that  all  the  virtues  which  are  displayed  in 
society  proceed  from  religious  principles  ;  so 
that  all  just  ujagistrates  are  just  lor  their 
love  of  equity ;  that  all  grave  ecclesiastics 
.'ire  serious  because  they  respect  their  charac- 
ter ;  that  all  chaste  women  are  chaste  from  a 
principle  of  love  to  virtue  :  human  motives, 
we  -freely  grant,  often  prevail  instead  of  bet- 
ter. We  affirm  only,  that  religious  prin- 
ciples arc  infinitely  more  proper  to  regulate 
society  than  human  motives.  Many  persons, 
we  maintain,  do  actually  govern  their  con- 
duct by  religious  principles,  and  society 
would  be  incomparably  more  irregular,  were 
there  no  religion  in  it.  That  list  of  virtues, 
therefore,  which  only  education  and  consti- 

2  1 


tution  produce,  does  not  at  all  affect  the  prin- 
ciple which  we  are  endeavouring  to  establish  ; 
and  he,  who  takes  his  objections  from  it, 
does  but  beat  tlie  air. 

Lastly.  When  we  affirm.  Society  cannot 
subsist  irithout  religion,  we  do  not  say,  that 
all  atiieists  and  deists  ought  therefore  to 
abandon  themselves  to  all  sorts  of  vices  ;  nor 
tliat  they  who  have  embraced  atheism,  if  in- 
deed there  have  been  any  such,  were  always 
the  most  wicked  of  mankind.  Many  people 
of  these  characters,  we  own,  lived  in  a  regu- 
lar manner.  We  affirm  only,  that  irveligion, 
of  itself,  opens  a  door  to  all  sorts  of  vices ; 
and  that  men  are  so  formed,  that  their  dis- 
orders would  increase  were  they  to  dis- 
believe the  doctrines  of  the  existence  of  a 
God,  of  judgment,  and  of  providence.  All 
the  examples,  therefore,  that  are  alleged 
against  us,  of  a  Diagoras,  of  a  Theodorus, 
of  a  Pliny,  of  a  Vanini,  of  some  societies, 
real  or  ciiiincrical,  who,  it  is  pretended,  lived 
regular  lives  without  the  aid  of  religion  ;  all 
these  examples,  I  say,  make  nothing  against 
our  hypothesis. 

These  explanations  being  granted,  we  main- 
tain, that  no  politician  can  succeed  in  a  design 
of  uniting  men  in  one  social  body  without 
supposing  the  truth  and  reality  ot  religion. 
For,  if  there  be  no  religion,  each  member  of 
society  may  do  what  he  pleases;  and  then 
each  would  give  a  loose  to  his  passions ; 
each  would  employ  his  power  in  crushing  the 
weak;  his  cunning  in  deceiving  the  simple, 
his  eloquence  in  seducing  the  credulous,  his 
credit  in  ruining  commerce,  his  authority  in 
distressing  the  whole  with  horror  and  terror, 
and  carnage  and  blood.  Frightful  disorders 
in  their  nature  ;  but  necessary  on  principles 
of  infidelity  !  For,  if  you  suppose  these  dis- 
orders may  be  prevented,  their  prevention 
must  be  attributed  either  to  private  interest^ 
to  vrorldly  honour,  or  to  human  laws. 

But  private  interest  cannot  supply  the 
place  of  religion.  True,  were  all  men  to 
agree  to  obey  the  precepts  of  religion,  eacji 
would  find  his  own  account  in  his  own  obe- 
dience. But  it  does  not  depend  on  an  indi- 
vidual to  oppose  a  pojjular  torrent,  to  reform 
the  public,  and  to  make  a  new  world:  and, 
while  the  world  continues  in  its  present  state, 
he  will  find  a  thousand  circumstances  in 
which  virtue  is  incompatible  with  private 
interest. 

Nor  can  icorldly  honour  supply  the  place 
of  religion.  For  what  is  worldly  honour.'*  It 
is  a  superficial  virtue  ;  an  art,  that  one  man 
possesses,  of  disguising  himself  from  another ; 
of  deceiving  politely;  of  appearing  virtuous 
rather  tlian  of  being  actually  so.  If  you 
extend  the  limits  of  worldly  honour  fartlier, 
if  you  laalce  it  consist  in  that  purity  of  con- 
science, and  in  that  rectitude  of  intention, 
which  are  in  effect  firm  and  solid  foundations 
of  virtue,  you  will  find,  either  that  this  is 
only  a  tine  idea  of  what  almost  nobody  is 
capable  of,  or,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so, 
that  the  virtues  which  compose  your  complex 
idea  of  worldly  honour  are  really  branches  of 
religion. 

Finally,  Human  laics  cannot  supply  the 
place  ol*^  religion.  To  whatever  degree  of 
perfection  they  may  be  improved,  they  will 


246 


THE  ABSURDITY  OF 


[SEn.  XXVI- 


always  savour  in  three  things  of  the  imper- 
fection of  the  legishitors. 

1.  They  will  be  imperfect  in  their  sub- 
fttanre.  They  may  prohibit,  indeed,  enor- 
mous crimes  ;  but  they  cannot  reach  refined 
irregularities,  which  are  not  the  less  capable 
of  troubling  society  for  appearing  less  atro- 
cious. They  may  forbid  muidcr,  Ihcft. 
and  adultery;  but  they  can  neither  forbid 
avarice,  anger,  nor  concupiscence.  Tiiey 
will  avail  in  the  preserving  and  disposing';  of 
property,  they  may  command  tlie  payment 
of  taxes  to  the  crown,  and  of  debts  to  the 
merchant,  tlie  cultivation  of  sciences,  and 
liberal  arts  ;  but  they  cannot  ordain  patience, 
meekness  and  love  ;  and  you  will  grant,  a 
eociety,  in  which  there  is  neither  patience, 
meekness,  nor  love,  must  needs  be  an  unhappy 
society. 

2.  Human  laws  will  be  weak  in  their  mo- 
tives. The  rewards  Avhich  they  offer  may 
be  forborne,  for  men  may  do  without  them  ; 
the  punishments  which  they  inflict  may  be 
suffered  ;  and  there  are  some  particular  cases 
in  which  they,  who  derogate  from  their 
authority,  may  advance  their  own  interest 
more  than  if  they  constantly  and  scrupulously 
bubmit  to  it. 

3.  Human  laws  will  be  restrained  in  their 
txtent.  Kings,  tyrants,  masters  of  the  world, 
know  the  art  of  freeing  themselves  from  them. 
The  laws  avenge  us  on  an  insignificant  thief, 
whom  the  pain  of  hunger  and  tJie  fear  of 
death  tempted  to  break  open  our  houses,  to 
rob  us  of  a  trifling  sum  ;  but  wlio  will  avenge 
us  of  magnificent  thieves  .''  For,  my  brethren, 
some  men,  in  court  cabinets,  in  dedicatory 
epistles,  in  the  sermons  of  flatterers,  and  in 
the  prologues  of  poets,  are  called  conquerors, 
heroes,  demi-gods  ;  but,  in  this  pulpit,  in  this 
church,  in  tiie  presence  of  the  Cod  who  fills 
this  house,  and  who  regards  not  the  appear- 
ances of  men,  you  conquerors,  you  heroes, 
you  demi-gods,  are  often  nothing  but  thieves 
and  incendiaries.  Who  shall  avenge  us  of 
those  men  who,  at  the  head  of  a  hundred  thou- 
sans  slaves,  ravage  the  whole  v.-orld,  pillage  on 
the  right  hand  and  on  tlie  left,  violate  the 
most  sacred  rights,  and  overwhelm  society 
with  injustice  and  oppression  ?  Who  does 
not  perceive  the  insufficiency  of  human  laws 
on  this  article,  and  tiie  absolute  necessity  of 
reliri'ion .' 

HI.  The  infidel  carries  his  indociUtij  to 
the  utmost  degree  of  extravagance,  by  under- 
faking  alone  to  oppose  all  mankind,  and  by 
audaciously  preferring  his  own  judgment 
above  that  of  the  whole  world,  who,  except- 
ing a  small  number,  have  unanimously  em- 
bfaced  the  truths  which  he  rejects. 

This  argument,  taken  from  unanimous 
consent,  furnishos  in  favour  of  religion,  eitlicr 
a  bare  presum[)fion,  or  a  real  demonstration, 
according  to  the  different  tiicns  under  which 
it  is  presented. 

It  furnishes  a  proof  perhaps  more  than  pre- 
sumptive when  it  is  opposed  to  the  objections 
which  an  unbelieving  philosoplier  alleges 
against  rtiigion.  For,  although  the  faith  of  a 
rational  man  ought  not  to  be  Ibunded  on  a  plu- 
rality of  suffrages,  yet  mianimity  of  opinion 
13  respectable,  when  it  has  three  characters. 
J.  When  anopinion  i>rcvnils  ill  all  places.  Pre- 


judices vary  with  climates,  and  whatever  de- 
pends on  human  caprice  differs  in  France,  and 
in  Spain,  in  Europe  and  Asia,  according  as  the 
inhabitants  of  each  country  have  their  blood 
hot  or  cold  ;  tlieir  imagination  strong  or  weali. 
2.  Wkenan  opinion  prevails  at  all  times.  Pre- 
judices change  with  the  times ;  years  instruct ; 
»nd  experience  corrects  errors,  which  ages 
have  lendered  venerable.  3.  When  an  opinion 
is  contrary  to  the  pas.^ions  of  men.  A  pre- 
judice that  controls  human  passions  cannot 
be  of  any  long  duration.  The  interest  that  a 
man  has  in  discovering  his  mistake  will  put 
him  on  using  all  his  endeavours  to  develope 
a  delusion.  These  three  characters  agree  to 
truth  only. 

I  am  aware  that  some  pretend  to  enervate 
tills  argument,  by  the  testimonies  of  some 
ancient  historians,  and  by  the  relations  of 
some  modern  travellers,  who  tell  us  of  some  in- 
j  dividuals,  and  of  some  whole  societies,  who  are 
;  destitute  of  the  knowledge  of  God  and  of 
relio-ion. 

i  But,  in  order  to  a  solid  reply,  we  arrange 
these  atheists  and  deists,  who  are  opposed  to 
us,  in  three  different  classes.  The  first  con- 
sists of  philosophers,  the  next  of  the  senseless 
populace,  and  the  last  of  profligate  persons. 
Philosophers,  if  you  attend  closely  to  the 
matter,  will  appear,  at  least  the  greatest  part 
of  them  will  appear,  to  have  been  accused  of 
iiaving  no  religion,  only  because  they  had  a 
jjurer  religion  tiian  the  rest  of  their  fellow- 
citizens.  They  would  not  admit  a  plurality 
of  gods,  they  were  therefore  accused  of  be- 
lieving in  no  God.  The  infidelity  of  the 
scn.^elcss  jiopniucc  is  favourable  to  our  argu- 
ment. We  affirm,  wherever  there  is  a  spark 
of  reason,  there  is  also  a  spark  of  religion.  Is 
it  astonishing  that  they  who  have  renounced 
the  former,  should  renounce  the  latter  also.-' 
As  to  the  profligate,  who  extinguish  their 
own  little  light,  we  say  of  them,  with  a  mod- 
ern writer,  it  is  glorious  to  religion  to  haze 
tneniics  of  this  character. 

But  let  us  sec  whether  this  unanimous 
consent,  which  has  afl'orded  us  a  presumption 
in  favour  of  religion,  will  furnish  us  with  a 
demonstration  rigainst  those  who  oppose  it. 

Authority  ought  never  to  prevail  over  our 
minds,  against  a  judgment  grounded  on  solid 
reasons,  and  received  on  a  cool  examination. 
But  authority,  especially  an  authority  found- 
ed on  an  unanimity  of  sentiment,  ought  al- 
ways to  sway  our  minds  in  regard  to  a  judg- 
ment formed  without  solid  reasons,  without 
examination,  and  without  discussion.  No 
men  deserve  to  be  called  the  most  'foolish, 
and  the  m('St  butish*  among  the  people,'  so 
much  as  those  men,  who  beiug,  as  the  great- 
est number  of  infidels  arc,  without  study, 
and  witliout  knowledge  ;  who.  without  deign- 
ing to  wcigli,  and  even  without  condescend- 
ing to  hear,  tlie  reasons  on  which  all  tlic  men 
in  the  world,  except  a  few,  found  the  doctrine 
of  the  existence    of  God  and   of  providence, 


•"'  Mr.  Saurin  follows  the  reading  of  tlie  French  vet- 
sinn,  les  jilu.''  brulMix,  (,.u.sf  brutish.  'I'his  is  peifcclly 
agrppable  to  the  original,  fur  the  Hebrew  forms  the 
superlative  <U'!;ree  by  prefi.\ing  the  letter  link  to  a 
noun-sutistaMtive,  which  follows  an  adjective,  as  here, 
Cant,  i.H;  I'rov.  .\.\x.  30,  honiinum  iiiuti.^-iiri ;  lio- 
niiiiuni  f,tiiiiidi.«(;«i ;  totiusliujus  populi  atupidis^i/iif  ; 
s;iy  coinmentators. 


bEB.   XXVI.] 


LIBERTINISM  AND  INFIDELITV, 


247 


give  themselves  an  air  of  infidelity,  and  inso- 
lently say,  Mercury,  Trismegistus,  Zoroaster, 
Pythagoras, Aristotle,  Socrntes,  Plato,Spncca; 
moreover,  M<)ses,Solomon,  Paul, and  the  apos- 
tles, taught  sucli  and  such  doctrines  ;  but,  for 
my  part,  I  am  not  of  tlieir  opinion.  And  nn 
what  ground  pray  do  you  reject  the  dostrines 
which  have  been  defended  by  such  illustrious 
men.''  Do  you  know  that,  of  all  charac- 
ters, there  is  not  one  so  difficult  to  sustain  as 
that  which  j^ou  affect  ?  For,  as  you  deny  the 
most  common  notions,  the  clearest  truths, 
sentiments,  which  are  the  most  generally  re- 
ceived, if  you  would  maintain  an  appearance 
of  propriety  of  character,  you  must  be  a  su- 
perior genius.  You  must  make  profound 
researches,  digest  immense  volumes,  and  dis- 
cuss many  an  abstract  question.  You  must 
learn  the  art  of  evading  demonstrations,  of 
palliating  sophisms,  of  parrying  ten  thousand 
thrusts,  that  from  all  parts  will  be  taken  at 
you.  But  you,  contemptible  genius !  you 
idiot !  you,  who  hardly  know  how  to  arrange 
two  words  without  offending  against  the  rules 
of  grammar,  oi  to  associate  two  ideas  without 
shocking  common  sense,  how  do  you  expect 
to  sustain  a  character  which  the  greatest  ge- 
niuses are  incapable  of  supporting  .'' 

IV.  Yet,  as  no  man  is  so  unreasonable  as 
not  to  profess  to  reason ;  and  as  no  man 
takes  up  a  notion  so  eagerly  as  not  to  pique 
himself  on  having  taken  it  up  after  a  mature 
deliberation,  we  must  talk  t'>  the  infidel  as  to 
a  philosopher,  who  always  follows  the  dictates 
of  reason,  and  argues  by  principles  and  con- 
sequences. Well,  then !  Let  us  examine  his 
logic,  or,  as  I  said  before,  his  way  of  reason- 
ing;  his  way  of  reasoning,  you  will  see,  is 
his  brutality,  and  his  logic  constitutes  his 
extravagance 

In  order  to  comprehend  this,  weigh,  in  the 
most  exact  and  equitable  balance,  the  argu- 
ment of  our  prophet.     'He   that  planted  the  ' 
ear,  shall  he  not   hear  .-'    He  that  formed  the  \ 
eye,  shall  he  not  see  ?  He  that  chastise  th  the  I 
heathen,  shall  he  not  correct .''  He  that  teach-  j 
eth   man  knowledge,   shall  not  he   know.'' 
These  are,  in  brief,  three  sources  of  evidences, 
which   supply   the   whole   of   religion   with 
proof.     The  first  are  taken  from  the  works  of' 
nature  ;  '  He  who   planted  the  ear  ;  He  who  I 
formed  the  eye.'     The  second  are  taken  from 
the  economy  of  Providence  ;  ■  He  that  chasti- 
seth  the  heathen.'     The  third  arc  taken  from 
the  history  of  the  church  ;  '  He  that  teacheth 
man  knowledge.' 

The  first  are  taken  from  the  wonderful 
works  of  nature.  The  propiiet  alleges  only 
two  examples  ;,  the  one  is  tiiat  of  the  ear,  the 
other  that  of  the  eye.  None  can  communi- 
cate what  he  has  not,  is  the  most  incontesta- 
ble of  all  principles.  He  who  communicates 
faculties  to  beiap;s  whom  he  creates,  mus' 
needs  possess  whatever  is  most  noble  in  such 
facultias.  He  w'lo  empowered  creatures  t" 
hear,  must  himself  hear.  He  who  impartc: 
the  faculty  of  discerning  objects,  must  needr- 
himself  discern  them.  ( 'onsequently,  tliere 
is  great  extravagance  in  saying,  '  The  Lord 
shall  not  see,  neither  shall  the  God  of  Jacob 
regard  it.' 

The  same  argument  which  the  structure  of 
our  ears,  and  that  of  our  eyes  affords  us,  Vv'o 


derive  also  from  all  the  wonderful  works  of 
the  Creator.  The  Creator  possesses  all  those 
great  and  noble  excellencies,  in  a  superior 
degree,  the  faint  shadows  of  which  he  has 
communicated  to  creatures.  On  this  princi- 
ple, whiit  an  idea  ought  we  to  form  of  the 
Creator^  From  what  a  profound  abyss  of  power 
)iiust  those  boundless  spaces  have  proceeded, 
that  immeasurable  extent,  in  which  imao-ina- 
tion  is  lost,  those  vast  bodies  that  surround  us, 
tliose  luminous  globes,  those  flaming  spheres 
which  revolve  in  tiie  heavens,  along  with  all 
tl)e  other  works  that  compose  this  universe  ? 
From  what  an  abyss  of  wisdom  must  the  sue-' 
cession  of  seasons,  of  day  and  of  night,  have 
proceeded  ;  those  glittering  stars,  so  exact  in 
tlieir  courses,  and  so  punctual  in  their  dura- 
tion ;  along  with  all  the  different  secret 
springs  in  the  universe,  which  with  the  ut- 
most accuracy  answer  their  design .'  From 
what  an  abyss  of  intelligence  must  rational 
creatures  come,  beings  who  constitute  the 
glory  of  the  intelligent  world  ;  profound  poli- 
ticians, who  pry  into  the  most  intricate  folds 
of  the  human  heart;  generals,  who  diffuse 
themselves  through  a  whole  army,  animating 
with  their  eyes,  and  with  their  voices,  the 
various  regiments  which  compose  their  forces; 
admirable  geniuses,  who  develope  the  myste- 
ries of  nature,  rising  into  the  heavens  by  diop- 
trics, descending  into  the  deepest  subterra- 
nean abysses  ;  quitting  continental  confine- 
ment by  the  art  of  navigation  ;  men  who, 
across  the  waves,  and  in  spite  of  the  winds, 
contemn  the  rocks,  and  direct  a  few  planlcs 
fastened  together  to  sail  to  the  most  distant 
climes .''  Who  can  refuse  to  the  author  of 
all  these  wonderful  works  the  faculty  of  see- 
ing and  hearing.'' 

But  I  do  not  pretend  to  deny,  an  infidel 
will  saj',  that  all  these  wonderful  works  owe 
their  existence  to  a  Supreme  <  'ause  ;  or,  that 
the  Supreme  Being,  by  whom  alone  they  ex- 
ist, docs  not  himself  possess  all  possible  per- 
fection. But  I  affirm,  that  the  Supreme 
Being  is  so  great,  and  so  exalted,  that  this 
elevation  and  inconceivable  excellence  pre- 
vent him  from  casting  his  eyes  down  to  the 
earth,  and  paying  any  regard  to  what  a 
creature,  so  mean,  and  so  indigent  as  man, 
performs,  A  being  of  infinite  perfection, 
does  he  interest  himself  in  my  conduct  .'* 
Wi'l  he  stoop  to  examine  whether  I  retain  or 
dischar'Te  the  wngesofmy  servants  .'  Wheth- 
er I  be  regular  or  irregular  in  my  family .'  and 
so  on.  A  king,  surrounded  with  magnifi- 
cence and  pomp,  holding  in  his  powerful 
hands  tiie  reins  of  his  empire  ;  a  king,  em- 
ployed in  weighing  reasons  of  state,  in  equip- 
ping his  fieots,  and  in  levying  his  armies; 
will  he  concern  himself  with  the  demarches 
of  a  Ccvr  worins  crawling  beneath  his  feet .' 

But  this  c^riiipirison  of  God  to  a  king,  and 

of  men  to  worms,  is  absurd  and  inconclusive. 

Tlie  econon)y  of  Providence,  and  the  history 

t'tiie  church,  in  concert  with  the  wonderful 

•!rl.s  of  nature,  discover  to  us  ten  thousand 
differences  between  the  relations  of  God  to 
men,  and  those  of  a  king  to  worms  of  the 
eaith.  No  king  has  given  intelligent  souls 
to  worms ;  but  God  has  given  intelligent 
souls  to  us.  No  king  has  proved,  by  ten 
thousand  avenginrr  strokes,  and  by  ten  thon- 


THE  ABSURDITY  OF 


[Ser.  XXVI. 


sand  glorious  rewards,  thai  he  observed  the 
conduct  of  worms ;  but  God,  bj'  ten  thousand 
jjlorious  recompenses,  and  by  ten  thousand 
vindictive  punishments,  lias  proved  his  atten- 
tion to  the  conductor  men.  No  king  has  made 
!L  covenant  with  worms  ;  but  God  has  entered 
into  covenant  with  us.  No  king  has  command- 
ed worms  to  obey  him  ;  but  God,  wo  affirm, 
lias  ordained  our  obedience  to  him.  No  king 
Can  procure  eternal  felicity  to  worms ;  but 
Ood  can  communicate  endless  happiness  tons. 
A  king,  although  he  be  a  king,  is  yet  a  man ; 
liis  mind  is  little  and  contracted,  yea,  infi- 
nitely contracted  ;  it  would  be  absurd,  that ' 
lie,  being  called  to  govern  a  kingdom,  should 
fill  his  capacity  with  trifles  :  but  is  this  J'our 
notion  of  the  Deity  ?  The  direction  of  the 
sun,  the  government  of  the  world,  the  forma-  i 
tion  of  myriads  of  beings  which  live  through 
universal  nature,  the  management  of  the 
whole  universe,  cannot  exhaust  that  intelli- 
gence who  is  the  object  of  our  adoration  and 
praise.  While  his  thoughts  include,  in  their 
boundless  compass,  all  real  and  all  possible 
beings,  his  eyes  survey  every  individual  as  if 
each  were  the  sole  object  of  his  attention. 

These  arguments  being  thus  stated,  either 
eur  infidel  must  acknowledge  that  they,  at 
least,  render  probable  the  truth  of  religion  in 
general,  and  of  this  thesis  in  particular, 
'  God  regardeth  the  actions  of  men  ;"  or  he 
refuses  to  acknowledge  it.  If  he  refuses  to 
acknowledge  it ;  if  he  seriously  affirms,  that 
all  these  arguments,  very  far  from  arising  to 
demonstration,  do  not  even  afford  a  probabili- 
ty in  favour  of  religion,  then  he  is  an  idiot, 
and  there  remains  no  other  argument  to  pro- 
pose to  him  than  that  of  our  prophet,  'Thou 
fool !  When  wilt  thou  be  wise  .■" 

I  even  question  whether  any  unbeliever 
could  ever  persuade  himself  of  what  he  en- 
deavours to  persuade  others  ;  that  is,  that  the 
aasemblage  of  truths,  which  constitute  the 
body  of  natural  religion;  that  the  heav}' 
strokes  of  justice  avenging  vice,  and  the  ec- 
etatic  rewards  accompanying  virtue,  which 
appear  in  Providence  ;  that  the  accomplish- 
ment of  numerous  prophecies;  that  the  ope- 
ration of  countless  miracles,  which  are  rela- 
ted in  authentic  histories  of  the  cliurch;  noj 
I  cannot  believe  tliat  any  infidel  could  ever 
prevail  with  himself  to  "think,  that  all  this 
train  of  argument  does  not  form  a  probability 
against  a  system  of  infidelity  and  atheism. 

But  if  the  power  and  the  splendour  of  truth 
forces  his  consent ;  if  he  be  obliged  to  own, 
that  although  my  arguments  arc  nut  demon- 
strative, they  are,  however,  in  his  opi- 
nion, probable  ;  then,  with  the  prophet,  I  say 
to  him,  '  O  tjiou  most  brutish  among  the 
people !' 

\  .  Why  ?  Because,  in  comparing  his  logic 
with  his  moTalitrj  (and  this  is  my  fitfh  article), 
1  perceive  that  nothing  but  an  excess  of 
brutality  can  unite  the  two  things.  Hear  how 
he  reasons;  'It  is  probable,  not  onlv  that 
there  is  a  God,  but  also  that  this  God  regards 
the  actions  of  men,  that  he  reserves  to  him- 
self the  pimishment  of  those  who  follow  the 
suggestions  of  vice,  and  the  rewarding  of 
them  who  obey  the  laws  of  virtue.  The  sys- 
tem of  irreligion  is  counterbalanced  by  that 
of  religion.     Perhaps  irreligion  may  be  well 


grounded ;  but  perhaps  religion  may  be  so. 
In  this  state  of  uncertainty,  I  will  direct  my 
conduct  on  the  principle  that  irreligion  is 
well-grounded,  and  that  religion  has  no  foun- 
dation. '  I  will  break  in  pieces,'  ver  5.  (this 
was  the  language,  according  to  our  Psalmist, 
of  tlie  unbelievers  of  his  time),  '  I  will  break 
in  pieces  the  people  of  God ;  I  will  afflict 
his  heritage  ;  I  will  slay  the  widow  and  the 
stranger  ;  or,  to  speak  agreeably  to  the  genius 
of  our  time,  I  will  spend  my  life  in  pleasure, 
in  gratifying  mj'  sensual  appetites,  in  avoid- 
ing what  would  check  me  in  my  course  ;  in  a 
word,  in  living  as  if  I  were  able  to  demon- 
strate either  that  there  was  no  God,  or  that 
he  paid  no  regard  to  the  actions  of  men. 
Ought  he  not  rather,  on  the  contrary,  as  hie 
mind  is  in  a  state  of  uncertainty  between 
both,  to  attach  himself  to  that  which  is  the 
most  safe  r'  Ought  he  not  to  say,  '  I  will  so 
regulate  my  conduct,  that  if  there  be  a  God, 
whose  existence  indeed  I  doubt,  but,  however, 
am  not  able  to  disprove  ;  if  God  pay  any  re- 
gard to  the  actions  of  men,  which  I  question, 
but  cannot  deny,  he  may  not  condemn  me." 
Judge  ye.  Christians!  men  who  can  thus 
brutally  insult  a  dark  futurity,  and  the  bare 
possibility  of  those  punishments  which  reli- 
gion denounces  against  the  wicked ;  such 
men,  are  they  not  either  the  most  foolish,  or 
the  most  brutish  among  the  people  ?  '  Under- 
stand, ye  most  brutish  among  the  people  !  Ye 
fools  !  When  will  you  be  wise  .'' 

VI.  I   would   attack   the  conscience  of  the 
libertine,  and  terrify  him  with  the  language 
of  m}^  text,  'He  who  teacheth  man  knowledcre, 
shall  not  he  correct  ?'  That  is  to  say,  He  who 
gave  you  laws,  shall  not  he  regard  your  viola- 
tion of  them  ?  The  persons  whom  I  attack,  I  am 
aware,  have  defied  us  to  find  the  least  vestice 
of  what   is   called  conscience  in  them.    But 
had   you    thoroughly   examined    yourselves 
when  you  set  us  at  defiance  on  this  article  ? 
Have  you  been  as  successful  as  you  pretend- 
ed to  have  been  in  your  daring  enterprise  of 
freeing  yourselves   entirely  from  the  terrors 
of  conscience  .■'    Is  this  ligiit   quite  extinct  ? 
This  interior  master,  does  he  dictate  nothing 
^  to  you?    This  rack  of  the  Almighty,  does  it 
never    force  you  to  confess  what  you  would 
i  willingly  deny  .-'  Are  your  knees  so  firm,  that 
i  they  never  smite  together  with  dread  and 
^  horror.'' 

The  question,  concerning  the  possibility  of 
entirely  freeing  a  man  from  the  empire  of 
conscience,  is  a  question  of  fact.  We  think 
we  have  reason  for  affirming,  that  no  man 
can  bring  himself  to  such  a  state.  You  pre- 
tend to  be  yourselves  a  demonstration  of 
tJie  contrary.  You  are,  you  declare,  perfect- 
ly free  from  the  attacks  of  conscience.  This 
is  a  fact,  and  I  grant  it ;  I  take  your  word  : 
but  hero  is  another  fact,  in  regard  to  which 
wc  ought  to  be  believed  in  our  turn,  and  on 
which  our  word  is  wortli  as  much  as  yours. 
This  is  it :  we  have  seen  a  great  number  of 
sick  people  ;  we  have  attended  a  great  num- 
ber of  dying  people.  Among  those,  to  whom 
in  the  course  of  our  ministry  we  have  been 
called,  we  have  met  with  all  sorts  of  charac- 
ters. We  have  visited  some,  who  once  were 
what  you  profess  to  be  now,  people  who 
boasted  of  having  freed  themselves  from  vul- 


Heh.  XXVI.] 


LIBERTINISM  AND  INFIDELITY. 


'249 


ga.r  errors,  from  the  belief  of  a  God,  a  reli 
gion,  a  hell,  a  heaven,  and  of  saying^,  when 
they  abandon  themselves  to  the  utmost  ex- 
cesses, as  you  say,  '  The  Lord  shall  not  see 
neither  shall  the  God  of  Jacob  regard  it. 
But  we  have  never  met  with  a  single  indi 
vidual,  no,  not  one,  who  has  not  contradict- 
ed himself  at  the  approach  of  death.  It  is 
said  some  have  not  done  this.  For  our  parts, 
we  have  never  met  with  any  such  ;  we  have 
never  attended  one  who  has  not  proved  by 
his  example,  that  you  will  contradict  your- 
selves also.  We  have  often  visited  those 
who  have  renounced  all  their  systems,  and 
have  cursed  their  infidehty  a  thousand  and  a 
thousand  times.  We  have  visited  many  who 
have  required  the  aid  of  that  very  religion 
which  they  had  ridiculed.  We  have  often 
seen  those  who  have  called  superstition  to 
assist  religion ;  and  who  have  turned  pale, 
trembled,  and  shaken,  at  the  bare  sight  of 
our  habit ,  before  they  had  heard  the  sentence 
which  God  pronounced  by  our  mouths.  But 
we  have  never  seen  an  individual,  no,  not 
one,  who  died  in  his  pretended  skepticism. 
It  remains  with  you  to  account  for  these 
facts.  You  are  to  inquire,  whether  you  your- 
selves will  be  more  courageous.  It  belongs 
to  you  to  examine,  whether  you  can  better 
support  the  character,  and  whether  you  can 
bear  those  dying  agonies,  those  devouring 
regrets,  those  terrible  misgivings,  which 
made  your  predecessors  unsay  all,  and  dis- 
cover as  much  cowardice  at  death  as  they  had 
discovered  brutality  in  their  lives. 

VII.  Perhaps  you  have  been  surprised, 
my  brethren,  that  we  have  reserved  the 
weakest  of  our  attacks  for  the  last.  Perhaps 
you  object,  that  motives,  taken  from  what  is 
called />o/i<eness, and  a  knowledge  of  the  wor'd, 
can  make  no  impressions  on  the  minds  of 
those  who  did  not  feel  the  force  of  our  former 
attacks.  It  is  not  without  reason,  however, 
that  we  have  placed  this  last.  Libertines 
and  infidels  often  pique  themselves  on  their 
gentility  and  good  breeding.  They  fre- 
quently take  up  their  system  of  infidelity, 
and  pursue  their  course  of  profaneness,  mere- 
ly through  their  false  notions  of  gentility. 
Reason  they  think  too  scholastic,  and  faith 
pedantry.  They  imagine,  that  in  order  to 
distinguish  themselves  in  the  world,  they 
must  aflTect  neither  to  believe  nor  to  rea- 
son. 

Well !  you  accomplished  geatlcman  !  do 
you  know  what  the  world  thinks  of  you.' 
The  prophet  tells  you :  but  it  is  not  on  the 
authority  of  the  prophet  only,  it  is  on  the 
opinion  of  your  fellow-citizens,  that  I  mean 
to  persuade  you.  You  are  considered  in  the 
world  as  the  '  most  brutish'  of  mankind. 
'  Understand,  ye  most  brutish  among  the 
people.'  What  is  an  accomplished  gentie- 
laan?  What  is  politeness  and  good  breed- 
ing .'  It  is  the  art  of  accommodating  one's 
self  to  the  genius  of  that  society,  and  of  seem- 
ing to  enter  into  the  sentiments  of  that  com- 
pany in  which  we  are  ;  of  appearing  to  ho- 
nour what  they  honour  ;  of  respecting  what 
they  respect ;  and  of  paying  a  regard  even 
to  their  prejudices,  and  their  weaknesses. 
On  these  principles,  are  you  not  the  rudest 
and  most  unpolished    of  maiJiind  ?     Or,  to 


repeat  the  language  of  my  text,  are  you  not 
the  '  most  brutish  among  the  people  .''  You 
'ive  among  people  who  believe  a  God,  and  a 
religion  ;  among  people  who  were  educated 
n  these  principles,  and  who  desire  to  die  iii 
hese  principles;  among  people  who  have 
many  of  them  sacrificed  their  reputation^ 
their  ease,  and  their  fortune  to  religion. 
Moreover,  you  live  in  a  society,  the  founda- 
tions of  which  sink  with  those  of  religion, 
so  that  were  the  latter  undermined,  the  for- 
mer would  therefore  be  sunk.  All  the  mem- 
bers of  society  are  interested  in  supporting 
this  edifice,  which  you  are  endeavouring  to 
destroy.  The  magistrate  commands  you  not 
to  publish  principles  that  tend  to  the  subver- 
sion of  his  authority.  The  people  request 
you  not  to  propagate  opinions  which  tend  to 
subject  them  to  the  passions  of  a  magistrate, 
who  will  imagine  he  has  no  judge  superior 
to  himself.  This  distressed  mother,  mourn- 
ing for  the  loss  of  her  only  son,  prays  you 
not  to  deprive  her  of  the  consolation  which 
she  derives  from  her  present  persuasion,  that 
the  son  whom  she  laments  is  in  possession 
of  immortal  glory.  That  sick  man  beseech- 
es you  not  to  disabuse  him  of  an  error  that 
sweetens  all  his  sorrows.  Yon  dying  man 
begs  you  would  not  rob  him  of  his  only  hope. 
The  whole  world  conjures  you  not  to  estab- 
lish truths  (even  supposing  they  were  truths, 
an  hypothesis  which  I  deny  and  detest),  the 
whole  world  conjures  you  not  to  establish 
truths,  the  knowledge  of  which  would  be  fa- 
tal to  all  mankind.  In  spite  of  so  many 
voices,  in  spite  of  so  many  prayers,  in  spite 
of  so  many  entreaties,  and  among  so  many 
people  interested  in  the  establishment  of  re- 
ligion, to  afiirm  that  religion  is  a  fable,  to 
oppose  it  with  eagerness  and  obstinacy,  to 
try  all  your  strength,  and  to  place  all  your 
glory  in  destroying  it :  what  is  this  but  the 
height  of  rudeness,  brutality,  and  mad- 
ness.' '  Understand,  ye  most  brutish  among 
the  people  I  Ye  fools !  When  will  ye  be 
wise  r 

Let  us  put  a  period  to  this  discourse.  We 
come  to  you,  my  brethren  !  When  we  preach 
against  characters  of  these  kinds,  we  think 
we  rea.d  what  passes  in  your  hearts.  You 
congratulate  yourselves,  for  the  most  part, 
for  not  being  of  the  number  for  detestino-  in- 
fidelity, and  for  respecting  relig'ion.  But 
shall  we  tell  you,  my  brethren  .'  How  odious 
soever  the  men  are,  whom  we  have  describ- 
ed, we  know  others  more  odious  still.  There 
is  a  restriction  in  the  judgment,  which  the 
prophet  forms  of  the  first,  when  ho  calls  them 
in  the  text,  •  The  most  foolish,  and  the  most 
brutish  among  the  people ;  and  there  are 
some  men  who  surpass  them  in  brutality  and 
extravagance. 

Do  not  think  we  exceed  the  truth  of  the 
matter,  or  that  we  are  endeavouring  to  ob- 
tain your  attention  by  paradoxes.  Really,  I 
speak  as  I  think ;  I  think  there  is  more  in- 
genuousness, and  even  (if  I  may  venture  to 
say  so),  a  less  fund  of  turpitude  in  men  who, 
having  resolved  to  roll  on  with  the  torrent 
of  their  passions,  endeavour  to  perauado 
themselves  either  that  there  is  no  God,  or 
that  he  pays  no  regard  to  the  actions  of  men ; 
than  iii  those  who,  believing  the  existence 


250 


THE  SALE  OF  TRUTH. 


[rfBR.  xxva. 


and  providence  ol' God,  live  as  if  they  believ- 
ed neither.  Infidels  were  not  able  to  sup- 
port, in  their  excesses,  the  ideas  of  an  injured 
benefactor,  of  an  angry  Supreme  Judge,  of 
an  eternal  salvation  neglected,  of  daring 
hell,  a  '  lake  burning  with  fire  and  brim- 
stone, and  smoke  ascending  up  for  ever 
and  ever,'  Rev.  xxi.  8;  xiv.  11.  In  order 
to  give  their  passions  a  free  scope,  they 
found  it  necessary  to  divert  their  attention 
firom  all  these  terrifying  objects,  and  to  ef- 
face such  shocking  truths  from  their  minds. 
But  you  !  who  believe  the  being  of  a  God! 
You !  who  believe  yourselves  under  his  eye, 
and  who  insult  him  every  day  without  re- 
pentance, or  remorse !  You !  who  believe 
God  holds  thunder  in  his  hand  to  crush  sin- 
ners, and  yet  live  in  sin  !  You  !  who  think 
there  are  devouring  flames,  and  chains  of 
darkness ;  and  yet  presumptuously  brave 
their  horrors !  You !  who  believe  the  im- 
mortality of  your  souls,  and  yet  occupy  your- 
selves about  nothing  but  the  present  life  ! 
What  a    front!     What    a    brazen   front    is 

VOURS ! 

You  consider  religion  a  revelation  proceed- 
ing from  heaven,  and  supported  by  a  thousand  ' 
authentic  proofs      But,  if  your  faith  be  well-  j 
grounded,  how  dangerous  is  your  condition  !  i 
For,  after  all,  the  number  of  evidences  who  [ 
attest   the  religion  which  you    believe,  this 
number  of  witnesses  depose  the  truth  of  the 
practical  part  of  religion,  as  well  as  the  truth 
of  the  speculative  part.     These  witnesses  at- 


test, that  '  without  holiness,  no  man  shall 
see  the  Lord;  that  neither  thieves,  nor  co- 
vetous, nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  ex- 
tortioners, shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God,' 
Heb.  xii  14;  1  Cor.  vi.  10.  And  conse- 
quently, these  evidences  attest  that  you 
thieves,  that  you  covetous,  that  you  drunk- 
ards, that  you  revilers,  that  you  extortioners, 
shall  be  excluded  from  that  happv  mansion. 
Do  you  reject  this  proposition .'  Class  your- 
selves then  with  infidels.  Contradict  nature ; 
contradict  conscience  ;  contradict  the  church; 
deny  the  recovery  of  strength  to  the  lame  ; 
the  giving  of  sight  to  the  blind ;  the  raising 
of  the  dead ;  contradict  heaven,  and  earth, 
and  sea,  nature,  and  every  element.  Do  you 
admit  the  proposition .'  Acknowledge  thea 
that  you  must  be  irretrievably  lost,  unless 
your  ideas  be  reformed  arhd  renewed,  unless 
you  renounce  the  world  that  enchants  and 
fascinates  your  eyes. 

This,  my  brethren,  this  is  your  remedy. 
This  is  what  we  hope  for  you.  This  is  that 
to  which  we  exhort  you  by  the  compassion  of 
God,  and  by  the  great  salva,tion  which  reli- 
Sfion  presents  to  you.  Respect  this  religion. 
Study  it  every  day.  Apply  its  comforts  to 
your  sorrows,  and  its  precepts  to  your  lives. 
And,  joining  promises  to  precepts,  and  pre- 
cepts to  promises,  assort  your  Christianity. 
Assure  yourselves  then  of  the  peace  of  God 
in  this  life  and  of  a  participation  of  his  glo- 
ry after  death.  God  grant  you  this  grace  5 
Amen. 


SERMON  XXVII. 


THE  SALE  OF  TRUTH. 


Prov.  xxiii.  23. 
Sell  not  the  truth. 


'  If  Balak  would  give  me  his  house  full  of 
silver  and  (fold,  I  cannot  go  beyond  the  word 
of  the  Lord  my  God,  to  do  less  or  more,' 
Numb.  xxii.  18.  This  was  the  language  of  a 
man  whose  memory  the  church  holds  in  exe- 
cration :  but  who,  when  he  pronounced  these 
words,  was  a  model  worthy  of  the  imitation  of 
the  wliole  world.  A  king  sent  for  him  ;  made 
him,  in  some  sort,  tiie  arbiter  of  the  success 
of  his  arms ;  considered  him  as  one  who 
could  command  victory  as  he  pleased  ;  put  a 
commission  to  him  into  the  hands  of  the  most 
illustrious  persons  of  his  court ;  and  accom- 
panied it  with  presents,  the  magnificence  of 
which  was  suitable  to  the  favour  he  solicited. 
Balaam  was  very  much  struck  with  so  many 
honours,  and  charmed  willi  such  extranrdina 
ry  presents.  He  felt  all  that  a  man  of  mean 
rank  owed  to  a  king,  who  sought  and  SDlicit- 
ed  his  help  ;  but  he  felt  still  more  the  majesty  i 
of  his  cwn  character.  He  professed  himself 
a  minister  of  that  God.  bi  fore  whom  '  all  na- 
tions arc  as  a  drop  of  a  bucket,'   Isa.  xl.  15;  ! 


and,  considering  Balak,  and  his  courtiers,  in 
this  point  of  view,  he  sacrificed  empty  honour 
to  solid  glory,  and  exclaimed  in  this  heroical 
style,  '  If  Balak  would  give  me  his  house  full 
of  silver  and  gold,  I  cannot  go  beyond  the 
word  of  the  Lord  my  God,  to  do  less  or  more.' 
Moreover,  before  Balak,  in  the  presence  of 
all  his  courtiers,  and,  so  to  speak,  in  sight  of 
heaps  of  silver  and  gold  sparkling  to  seduce 
him,  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  emotions  of 
the  prophetic  spirit  that  animated  him,  and, 
burning  with  that  divine  fire  which  this  spirit 
kindled  in  his  soul,  he  uttered  these  sublime 
words :  '  Balak  the  king  of  Moab  hath  brought 
me  from  Aram,  out  of  the  mountains  of  tlie 
East,  saying.  Come,  curse  me  Jacob,  and 
come,  dety  Israel.  How  shall  I  curse,  whom 
God  hath  not  cursed  ?  Or  how  shall  I  defy 
whom  the  Lord  hath  not  defied.'  Behold,  I 
have  received  commandment  to  bless,  and  he 
hath  blessed,  and  I  cannot  reverso  it.  Surely 
there  is  no  enchantment  against  Jacob,  nei- 
ther is  there  any  divination   against  Israel,' 


Sib.  XXVII.] 


THE  SALE  OF  TRUTH. 


251 


Numb,  xxiii.  7,  8.  20.  23.  '  How  goodly  are 
thy  tents,  O  Jacob,  and  thy  tabernacles,  O 
Israel,'  chap.  xsiv.  5. 

I  would  excite  your  zeal  to-day,  my  bre- 
thren, by  an  example  so  worthy  of  your  emu- 
lation. A  few  days  ago,  you  remember,  we 
endeavoured  to  show  you  the  importance  of 
this  precept  of  Solomon,  '  Buy  the  truth.' 
We  pointed  out  to  you  then  the  means  of 
making  the  valuable  acquisition  of  truth.  We 
told  you  God  had  put  it  up  at  a  price,  and 
that  he  required,  in  order  to  your  possession 
of  it,  the  sacrifice  of  dissipation,  the  sacrifice  of 
indolence,  the  sacrifice  ofprecipitancy  ofjudg- 
ment,  the  sacrifice  of  prejudice,  the  sacrifice 
of  obstinacy,  the  sacrifice  of  curiosity,  and 
the  sacrifice  of  the  passions.  In  order  to  in- 
^ire  you  with  the  noble  design  ofmaking  all 
these  sacrifices,  we  expatiated  on  the  worth 
of  truth,  and  endeavoured  to  convince  you  of 
its  value  in  regard  to  that  natural  desire  of 
man,  the  increase  and  perfection  of  his  intel- 
ligence, which  it  fully  satisfies  ;  in  regard  to 
the  ability  which  it  affords  a  man  to  fill  those 
posts  in  society  to  which  Providence  calls 
him  ;  in  regard  to  those  scruples  which  dis- 
turb a  man's  peace,  concerning  the  choice  of 
a  religion,  scruples  which  truth  perfectly 
calms ;  and,  finally,  in  regard  to  the  banish- 
ment of  those  doubts,  which  distress  people 
in  a  dying  hour,  doubts  which  are  alwa3's  in- 
tolerable, and  which  become  most  exquisitely 
so,  when  they  relate  to  questions  so  interest- 
ing as  those  that  revolve  in  the  mind  of  a  : 
dying  man.  i 

Having  thus  endeavoured  to  engage  you  to  I 
'buy  the  truth,'  v/hen  it  is  proposed  to  you, 
we  are  going  to  exhort  you  to-day  to  pre- 
serve it  carefully  after  you  have  acquired  it. 
We  are  going  to  enforce  this  salutary  advice, 
that  were  ten  thousand  envoys  from  Moab, 
and  from  Midian,  to  endeavour  to  ensnare 
you,  you  ought  to  sacrifice  all  things  rather 
than  betray  it,  and  to  attend  to  that  same  So- 
lomon, who  last  Lord's  day  said,  '  Buy  the 
truth,'  saying  to  you,  to-day,  '  and  sell  it  not.' 
If  what  we  shall  propose  to  you  now  re- 
quires less  exercise  of  your  minds  than  what 
we  said  to  3^ou  in  our  former  discourse,  it  ; 
will  excite  a  greater  exercise  of  your  hearts. 
When  you  hear  us  examine  the  several  cases  , 
in  which  '  the  truth  is  sold,'  you  may  per- 
liaps  have  occasion  for  all  your  respect  for 
us  to  hear  with  patience  what  we  shall  say  on 
these  subjects. 

But,  if  a  preacher  always  enervates  the 
force  of  his  preaching  when  he  violates  the 
precepts  himself,  the  necessity  of  which  he 
urges  on  others,  does  he  not  enervate  them 
in  a  far  more  odious  manner  still,  when  he 
violates  them  while  he  is  recommending 
them  ;  preaching  humil  ty  with  pride  and 
arrogance  ;  enforcing  restitution  on  otl)ers, 
while  he  himself  is  clothed  witli  the  spoils  of 
the  fatherless  and  the  widow;  pressing  the 
importance  of  fraternal  love  with  hands  reek- 
ing, as  it  were,  with  the  blood  of  his  bretliren  .' 
What  idea,  then,  would  you  form  of  us,  if, 
while  we  are  exhorting  you  '  not  to  sell  truth,' 
any  human  motives  should  induce  us  to  sell 
it,  by  avoiding  to  present  portraits  too  strik- 
ing, lest  any  of  you  should  know  yourselves 
again.     God  forbid  wc  should  do  so!  'If  Ba- 


lak  would  give  me  his  house  full  of  silver  and 
gold,  I  would  not  go  beyond  the  word  of  the 
Lord  my  God,  to  speak  less  or  more.'  Allow 
us,  then,  that  noble  liberty  which  is  not  in- 
consistent with  the  profound  respect  which 
persons  of  our  inferior  station  owe  to 
an  auditory  as  illustrious  as  this  to  which  we 
have  the  honour  to  preach  Permit  us  to  for- 
get every  interest  but  that  of  trutfi,  and  to 
have  no  object  in  view  but  your  salvation  and 
our  own.  And  thou,  God  of  truth!  fill  my 
mind  during  the  whole  of  this  sermon,  with 
this  exhortation  of  thine  apostle  :  '  I  charge 
thee  before  God,  and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
who  shall  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead  at  his 
appearing  and  his  kingdom ;  preach  the 
word  ;  be  instant  in  season,  out  of  season  ;  re- 
prove, rebuke,  exhort  with  all  long-suffering 
and  doctrine,'  2  Tim.  iv.  1,2.  'Take  heed 
unto  thyself,  and  unto  thy  doctrine  ;  for  in 
doing  this  thou  shall  both  save  thyself 
and  them  that  hear  thee,'  1  Tim.  iv.  16. 
Amen. 

You  may  comprehend  what  we  mean  by 
'  selling  truth,'  if  you  remember  what  we  said 
it  is  '  to  buy'  it.  Truth,  according  to  our  de- 
finition last  Lord's  day,  is  put  in  our  text  for 
an  agreement  between  the  nature  of  an  object 
and  the  idea  we  form  of  it.  '  To  buy  truth'  is 
to  make  all  the  sacrifices  which  are  necessa- 
ry for  the  obtaining  of  ideas  conformable  to 
the  objects  of  which  they  ought  to  be  the  ex- 
press images.  On  this  principle,  our  text,  I 
think,  will  admit  of  only  three  senses,  in  each 
of  which  we  may  '  sell  truth.' 

1.  '  Sell  not  the  truth,'  that  is  to  say,  do 
not  lose  the  disposition  of  mind,  that  aptness 
to  universal  truth,  when  you  have  acquired  it. 
Justness  of  thinking,  and  accuracy  of  rea- 
soning, are  preserved  by  the  same  means  by 
which  they  are  procured.  As  the  constant 
use  of  these  means  is  attended  with  difficulty, 
the  practice  of  tliem  frequently  tires  people 
out.  Tiierc  arc  seeds  of  some  passions  which 
remain,  as  it  were,  buried  during  the  first 
years  of  life,  and  which  vegetate  only  in  ma- 
ture age.  There  are  virtues  which  some  men 
would  have  practised  till  death,  had  their 
condition  been  alv/ays  the  same.  A  Roman 
historian  remarks  of  an  emperor,*  that  '  he  al- 
ways woul"  have  merited  the  imperial  digni- 
ty, had  he  never  arrived  at  it.'  He  who  was 
a  model  of  docility,  when  he  was  only  a  disci- 
ple, became  inaccessible  to  reason  and  evi- 
dence as  soon  as  he  was  placed  in  a  doctor's 
chair.  He  who  applied  himself  wholly  to  the 
sciences,  while  he  considered  his  application 
as  a  road  to  the  first  offices  in  the  state,  be- 
came wild  in  his  notions,  and  lost  all  the  fruit 
of  his  former  attention,  as  soon  as  he  obtain- 
ed the  post  which  had  been  the  object  of  all 
his  wishes.  As  people  neglect  advancing  in 
the  path  of  truth,  they  lose  the  habit  of  walk- 
ing in  it.  The  mind  needs  aliment  and  nour- 
ishment as  well  as  the  body.  '  To  sell  truth' 
is  to  lose,  by  dissipation,  that  aptness  to 
'  universal  truth'  which  had  been  acquired  by 
attention  ;  to  lose^  by  precipitation,  by  preju- 
dice, by  obstinacy,  by  curiosity,  by  gratifying 
the  pnssions,  those  dispositions  which  had 
been  acquired   by   opposite   means.     This  is 


Galba.  Tacit.  Hist.  Lili.  I. 


253 


THE  SALE  OF  TRUTH. 


CSer.  xxvn. 


the  first  sense  that  may  be  given  to  the  pre- 
cept, '  Sell  not  the  truth.' 

2.  The  Wise  Man  perhaps  intended  to  ex- 
cite those  who   possess  superior  knowledge 
to  communicate   it  freely  to   others.     He  in- 
tended, probably,  to  reprove  those  mercenary 
souls,  who  trade  with  their  wisdom,  and  '  sell 
it,'  as  it  were,   by   the   penny.     This   sense 
seems  to  be  verified  by  tlie  following  words, 
'  wisdom,  and  instruction,  and  understanding.' 
Some  supply  the  first  verb  '  buy,  buy  wisdom, 
and  instruction,'     The  last  verb  may  also  be 
naturally  joined  to  the  same  words,  and  the 
passage  may  be   read,  '  Sell  neither  wisdom 
nor  instruction.'  Not  that  Solomon  intended 
to  subvert   an  order  established  in   society; 
for  it  is  equitable,  that  they  who  have  spent 
their  youth  in  acquiring  literature,  and  have 
laid  out  a  part  of  their  forti  n?  in  the  acq:  i^- 
tion,  should  reap  the    fru't  of  tljoir  labour, 
and  be  indemnified   for   the  expense  of  their 
education  :  '  the  workman   is  worthy  of  his 
meat,  and  they  who  preach  the  gospel  should 
live  of  the  gospel,'  Matt.  x.  10  ;  1  Cor.  ix.  14. 
Yet  the  same  Jesus  Christ,  w'lo  was  the  her- 
ald as  well  as  the  pattern  of  disinterestedness, 
said  to  his  apostles  when  he  was  speaking  to 
them  of  the  miracles  which  he  had  empow- 
ered them  to  perform,  and  of  the  truths  of  the 
gospel  in  general,  which  lie  intrusted  them  to 
preach, '  Freely  ye  have  received,  freely  give,' 
Matt.  X.  8.     And  St.   Paul  was  so  far    from 
staining    his  apostleship   with   a  mercenary 
spirit,  that  when  he  thought  a  reward  for  his 
ministry  was  likely  to  tarnish  its  glory,  lie 
chose  rather  to  work  with  his  hands  than  to 
accept  it.  That  great  man,  who  had  acquired 
the  delightful  habit  of  living  upon  meditation 
and  study,  and  of  expanding  his  soul  in  con- 
templating  abstract  things  ;  that  great  man 
was  seen  to  supply  his  wants  by  working  at 
the  mean  trade  of  tent-making,  while  he  was 
labouring  at  the  same    time   in  constructing 
the  mystical  tabernacle,  the  church  :  greater 
in  this  noble  abasement  than  his  pretended 
successors  in  all   their  pride  and   pomp.     A 
man  of  superior  understanding  ought  to  de- 
vote himself  to  the  service  of  the  state.     His 
depth  of  knowledge  should  be  a  public  fount, 
from  which  each  individual  should  have  liber-  \ 
vy  to  draw.     A  physician  owes  that  succour  j 
to  the  poor  which  his  profession  aft'ords  ;  the  I 
counsellor  owes  them  his  advice  ;  the  casu- 
ist  his   directions  ;    without    expecting    any  , 
other  reward  than  tiiat  which   God  has  pro- 
mised to  benevolence.     I  cannot  help  repeat- 
ing here    the  idea  which  Cicero  gives  us  of 
tiiose  ancient  Pk,omans,  who  lived  in  the  days  j 
of  liberty,  and  of  the  true   glory   of  Rome,  j 
*  They  acquainted  themselves,'  says  that  ora-  j 
tor,  '  with  wliatcver  might  be   useful   to  the 
republic.  They  were  seen  walking  backward,  j 
and  forward,  in  the  public  places  of  the  city,  | 
in  order  to  afford  a  freedom  of  access  to  any 
of  the  ciiizens  who  wanted  their  advice,  not 
only  on  matters  of  jurisprudence,  but  on  any 
other  aftairs,  as  on  the  marrymg  of  a  daugh- 
ter, the  purchasing,  or   improving  of  a  farm, 
or,  in  short,  on  any  other  article  that  might 
concern  thom.'* 

3.  A  third  sense  may  bo  given  to  the  pre- 


*  De  Oratore.  Lib.  iii. 


cepts  of  Solomon,  and  by  selling,  we  may  un- 
derstand what,  in  modern  style,  we  call  be- 
traying truth.  To  bitray  truth  is,  through 
any  sordid  motive,  to  suppress,  or  to  disguise 
things  of  consequence,  to  the  glory  of  reli- 
gion, the  interest  of  a  neighbour,  or  the  good 
of  society. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  demonstrate  which 
of  these  three  meanings  is  most  conformable 
to  the  design  of  Solomon.  In  detached  sen- 
tences, such  as  most  of  the  writings  of  Solo- 
mon are,  an  absolute  sense  cannot  be  precisely 
determined  ;  but,  if  the  interpreter  ought  to 
suspend  his  judgment,  the  preacher  may  re- 
gulate his  choice  by  circumstances,  and,  of 
several  probable  meanings,  all  agreeable  to 
the  analogy  of  faith,  and  to  the  genius  of 
the  sacred  author,  may  take  that  sense  which 
best  suits  the  state  of  his  audience.  If  this 
be  a  wise  maxim,  we  are  obliged,  I  think, 
having  indicated  the  three  significations,  to 
confine  ourselves  to  the  third. 

In  this  sense  we  observe  six  orders  of  per- 
sons who  maj' '  sell  truth.' 

I.  The  courtier. 

II.  The  indiscreet  zealot. 

III.  The  Apostate,  and  the  Nicodemite. 

IV.  The  judge. 

V.  The  politician. 

VI.  Tiie  pastor. 

1  A  courtier  may  '  sell  truth'  by  a  mean 
adulation.  An  indiscreet  zealot  by  pious 
frauds,  instead  of  defending  truth  with  the 
arms  of  truth  alone.  An  apostate,  and  a  Ni- 
codemite, by  '  loving  this  present  world,'  2 
Tim.  iv.  10,  or  by  fearing  persecution  when 
they  are  called  •  to  give  a  reason  of  the  hope 
that  is  in  them,'  1  Pet.  iii.  15,  and  to  follow 
the  example  of  that  Jesus  who,  according  to 
the  apostle,  '  before  Pontius  Pilate  witness- 
ed a  good  confession,'  1  Tim.  vi.  13.  A 
judge  may  '  sell  truth'  by  a  spirit  of  partiali- 
ty, when  he  ought  to  be  blind  to  the  appear- 
ance of  persons.  A  politician,  by  a  criminal 
caution,  when  he  ought  to  probe  the  wounds 
of  the  state,  and  to  examine  in  public  assem- 
blies what  are  the  real  causes  of  its  decay, 
and  who  are  the  true  authors  of  its  miseries. 
In  fine,  a  pastor  may  '  sell  truth'  through  a 
cowardice  that  prevents  his  '  declaring  all 
the  counsel  of  (Jod  ;'  his  '  declaring  unto 
Jacob  his  transgression,  and  to  Israel  his 
sin,'  Micah  iii.  8.  Thus  the  flattery  of  the 
courtier  ;  the  pious  frauds  of  the  indiscreet 
zealot ;  the  worldly  mindedness  and  timidity 
of  the  apostate,  and  of  the  Nicodemite ; 
the  partiality  of  the  judge  ;  the  criminal  cir- 
cumspection of  the  members  of  legislative 
bodies  ;  and  the  cowardice  of  the  pastor  ;  are 
six  defects  which  we  mean  to  expose,  six 
sources  of  reflections  that  will  supply  the 
remainder  of  this  discourse. 

I.  Mean  adulation  is  the  first  vice  we  at- 
tack ;  the  first  way  of  selling  truth.  We  in- 
tend here  that  fraudulent  traffic  which  aims, 
at  the  expense  of  a  few  unmeaning  applauses, 
to  procure  solid  advantages  ;  and,  by  erect- 
ing an  altar  to  the  person  addressed,  and  by 
offering  a  little  of  the  smoke  of  the  incense 
of  flattery,  to  conciliate  a  profitable  esteem. 
This  unworthy  commerce  is  not  only  carried 
on  in  the  palaces  of  kings,  it  is  almost  every 
v.-here  seen,  where  suneriors  and  inferiors 


.ser.  xxvn.] 


THE  SALE  OF  TRUTH. 


25i 


meet;  because,  generally  speaking,  where- 
pver  there  are  superiors,  there  are  people 
%vho  love  to  hear  the  language  of  adulation ; 
and  because,  vviierever  there  are  inferiors, 
there  are  people  uiean  enough  to  let  thein  hear 
it.  What  a  k'lig  is  in  his  kiagdom,  a  governor 
is  in  his  province  ;  what  a  governor  is  in  his 
province,  a  nobleman  is  in  his  estate  ;  what 
a  nobleman  is  in  his  estate,  a  man  of  trade  is 
amon;''  his  workmen  and  domestics  Farther, 
tlie  incense  nf  flattery  d  los  not  always  ascend 
from  an  inferi  >r  only  to  a  superior,  people  on 
the  same  line  in  life  mutually  offer  it  to  one 
another,  and  sometimes  the  superior  stoops  to 
offer  it  to  the  inferior.  There  are  men  who 
expect  that  eacli  member  of  society  should 
put  his  hand  to  fijrvvard  the  building  of  a  for- 
tune which  entirely  employs  themselves,  and 
which  is  the  spring  of  every  iction  of  their 
own  lives ;  people  who  aim  to  siielter  them- 
selves under  the  protection  of  the  great,  to 
incorporate  tiieir  own  reputation  with  that  of 
illustrious  persons,  to  accumulate  wealth, 
and  to  lord  it  over  the  lower  part  of  mankind. 
These  people  apply  one  engine  to  all  men, 
which  is  flattery.  They  proportion  it  to  the 
various  orders  of  persons  whiin  they  address  ; 
they  direct  it  according  to  their  different 
foibles;  vary  it  according  to  various'c  roura- 
stances  ;  give  it  a  different  ply  at  different 
times  ;  and  artfully  consecrate  to  it,  not  only 
their  voice,  but  whatever  they  are,  and  what- 
ever they  pisse^is.  The/  practice  an  tbs.jlute 
authority  over  their  countenances,  compose 
them  to  an  air  of  pleasure,  distort  them  to 
pain,  gild  the  in  with  gladness,  or  becloud 
them  with  grief  They  are  indefatigable  in 
applauding  ;  they  never  present  themselves 
before  a  man  without  exciting  agreeable  ideas 
in  him,  and  these  they  never  fail  to  excite 
when,  blind  to  his  frailties,  they  affect  an  efc: 
of  ecstacy  at  his  virtues,  and  hold  tliemselves 
ready  to  publ'sh  his  abilities,  and  his  acquisi- 
tions for  prodigies.  They  acquire  friends  of 
the  most  opposite  characters,  because  they 
praise  alike  the  most  opposite  qualities.  They 
bestow  as  much  praise  on  tiie  violent  as  on 
the  moderate  ;  they  praise  pride  as  iniicii  as 
they  praise  humility ;  and  give  equal  enco- 
miums to  the  lowest  avarice  and  to  the  high- 
est generosity. 

Such  is  the  character  of  the  flatterer. 
This  is  the  first  traffic  which  ihe  Wise  Man 
forbids.  '  Sell  not  the  truth.'  Sii  uneful 
traffic  !  a  traiHc  unworthy  not  only  of  a  Chris- 
tian, and  of  a  philosopher  ;  but  of  every  man 
who  preserves  the  smallest  degree  of  his 
primitive  liberty.  Against  this  traffic  the 
church  and  the  synagogue,  Chrisiianity  and 
paganism,  St.  Paul  and  Seneca  have  alike  re- 
monstrated A  traffic  shamefiil  not  only  to 
him  who  offers  this  false  incense,  but  to  him 
who  loves  and  enjoys  it.  The  language  of  a 
courtier  who  elevates  his  prince  above  hu- 
manity, is  often  a  sure  mark  of  his  inward 
contempt  of  him  A  man  who  exaggerates 
and  amplifies  your  virtues,  takes  it  for  granted 
that  you  know  not  yourself  He  lays  it 
down  for  a  principle,  that  you  are  vain,  and 
that  you  love  to  see  yourself  only  on  your 
bright  side.  His  adulation  is  grounded  on 
a  belief  of  your  injustice,  he  knows  you  arro- 
gate a  glory  to  vourself  to  which  you  have  no 

2  K 


just  pretension.  He  lays  it  down  for  a  prin- 
ciple, that  you  are  destitute  of  all  delicacy  of 
sentiment,  and  that  you  prefer  empty  ap- 
plause before  respectful  silence.  He  lays  it 
down  for  a  principle,  that  you  have  little  or 
no  religion,  as  you  violate  its  most  sacred  law, 
huiiiility.  A  man  must  be  very  short-sighted, 
he  must  be  a  mere  novice  in  the  world,  and 
a  stranger  to  the  human  heart,  if  he  be  fond 
of  flattering  eulogiums.  There  is  no  king  so 
cruel,  no  tyrant  so  barbarous,  no  monster  so 
odious,  whom  flattery  does  not  elevate  above 
the  greatest  heroes.  The  traffic  of  the  flat- 
terer, then,  is  equally  shameful  to  him  who 
sells  truth,  and  to  him  who  buys  it. 

H.  Indiscreet  zealots  make  the  second 
class  of  them  who  '  sell  truth.'  If  the  zealot 
be  guilty  of  the  same  crime,  he  is  so  from  a 
motive  more  proper,  it  should  seem,  to  excul- 
pate him  He  uses  falsehood  only  to  estab- 
lish truth,  and  if  he  commit  a  fraud,  it  is  a 
fraud  consecrated  to  religion.  I  am  not  sur- 
prised, my  brethren,  that  the  partisans  of  er- 
roneous communities  have  used  this  method  ; 
and  that  they  have  advanced,  to  establish  it, 
arguments,  in  tlieir  own  opinions,  inconclu- 
sive, and  ficts  of  their  own  invention.  A 
certain  cardinal  who  made  himself  famous  in 
the  church  by  his  theological  attacks  on  the 
protestants,  and  who  became  more  so  still 
by  the  repulses  which  the  latter  gave  him, 
has  been  justl,  reproached  with  using  these 
methods.  Peo[ile  have  applied  that  com- 
parison to  him  which  he  applied  to  a  certain 
African  named  Leo,  whom  he  likens  to  that 
amphibious  bird  in  the  fable,  which  was  some- 
times a  bird,  and  sometimes  a  fish :  a  bird 
when  the  king  of  the  fish  required  tribute, 
and  a  fish  when  the  king  of  the  birds  demand- 
ed it.* 

To  supply  the  want  of  truth  with  falsehood 
is  a  kind  of  wisdom  that  better  becomes  '  the 
children  of  this  world,'  Luke  xvi.  8,  than  the 
ministers  of  the  living  God.  It  would  be 
hardly  credible,  unless  we  saw  it  with  our 
own  eyes,  that  tlie  ministers  of  God  should 
use  the  same  arms  which  the  ministers  of  the 
devil  employ  ;  and  endeavour  to  support  a 
religion  founded  on  reason  and  argument,  by 
the  very  same  artifices  which  are  only  need- 
ful to  uphold  a  relig-ion  founded  alone  on  the 
fancies  of  men.  We  blush  for  religion  when 
we  see  the  primitive  fathers  adopting  this 
method,  not  only  in  the  heat  of  argument, 
when  disputants  forget  their  own  principles, 
but  coolly  and  deliberately.  We  are  ashamed 
of  primitive  times,  when  we  hear  a  St. 
Jerome  commending  those  who  said  not  what 
lliey  believed,  but  whatever  they  thought 
proper  to  confound  their  pagan  opponents ; 
making  a  captious  distinction  between  what 
was  written  in  dogmatizing,  and  what  was 
written  in  disputing  ;  and  maintaining  that, 
in  disputing,  people  were  free  to  use  what 
arguments  they  would,  to  promise  bread,  and 
to  produce  a  stone. t  We  are  confounded  at 
finding,  among  the  archives  of  Christianity, 
letters  of  Lentulus  to  the  Roman  senate  in 
favour  of  Jesus  (Jhrist ;  those  of  Pilate  to 
Tiberius  ;    of  Paul  to  Seneca,  and  of  Seneca 

*  See  Baylc  in  the  article  Bellarmiue.    Rem.  D. 
t  Epist.  ad.  Pamiiiacli.     Voycz  DaiMe  sur  It!  droit 
usage  des  peres,  cliap.  v). 


254 


THE  SALE  OP  TRUTH. 


[Sf.b.  XXVI. 


to  Paul ;  yen.,  those  of  king  Agbarus  to  Jesus 
Christ,  and  of  Jesus  Christ  to  king  Agbarus. 
We  are  shocked  at  hearing  the  fatiiers  com- 
pare the  pretented  sybilhne  oracles  to  the  in- 
spired prophecies  ;  attribute  an  equal  autho- 
rity to  them  ;  cite  them  with  the  same  con- 
fidence ;  and  thus  expose  Christianity  to  the 
objections  of  its  enemies.*  And  would  to 
God  we  ourselves  had  never  seen  among  us 
celebrated  divines  derive,  from  the  visions  of 
enthusiasts,  arguments  to  uphold  the  truth  ! 

Mere  human  prudence  is  sufficient  to  per- 
ceive the  injustice  of  this  method.  The 
pious  frauds  of  the  primitive  ages  are  now 
the  most  powerful  objections  that  the  ene- 
mies of  religion  can  oppose  against  it.  They 
have  excited  suspicions  about  the  real  monu- 
ments of  the  church,  by  producing  the  spu- 
rious writings  which  an  indiscreet  zeal  had 
propagated  for  its  glory;  and  those  unworthy 
artifices  have  much  oftener  shaken  believers 
than  reclaimed  infidels. 

God  anciently  forbade  the  Jews  to  offer 
him  in  sacrifice  '  the  hire  of  a  whore,  or  the 
j)rice  of  a  dog,'  Deut  xxiii.  18.  Will  he  suf- 
fer Christianity  to  be  established  as  the  reli- 
gion of  Mohammed  is  propagated  ?  Will  Jesus 
Christ  call  Belial  to  his  aid  ?  Shall  light  ap- 
ply to  the  powers  of  darkness  to  spread  the 
glory  of  its  rays  .'  And  do  we  not  always  sin 
against  this  precept  of  Solomon,  '  Sell  not 
the  truth,'  when  we  part  with  truth  even  to 
obtnin  truth  itself.-' 

HI.  We  put  apostates,  and  time-servers,  or 
Nicodemites,  in  the  third  class  of  those  who 
'sell  the  truth.' 

1.  Apostates, But    we 

need  not  halt  to  attack  an  order  of  men  against 
which  every  thing  become::  a  pursuing  niin- 
ister  of  the  vengeance  of  Heaven.  The  idea 
they  leave  in  the  community  tLcy  quit ;  the 
contempt  of  that  which  embraces  them  ;  the 
odious  character  they  acquire  ;  the  horrors  of 
their  own  consciences  ;  the  thundering  lan- 
guage of  our  Scriptures  ;  the  drendtul  ex- 
amples of  Judas  and  Julian,  of  Hymeneus, 
Philetus,  and  Spira;  the  fires  and  flames  of 
hell:  these  are  arguments  against  apostacy  ; 
these  are  the  gains  of  those  who  '  sell  the 
truth'  in  this  manner. 

2.  But  tliere  is  another  order  of  men  to 
•whom  we  would  show  the  justice  of  the 
precept  of  Solomon ;  they  are  persons  who 
'  sell  the  truth,'  through  the  fear  of  those  pun- 
ishments which  persecutors  inflict  on  them 
who  have  courage  to  hang  out  the  bloody 
flag;  I  mean  time-servers,  Nicodemites. 
You  know  them,  my  brethren  :  would  to  God 
the  misfortunes  of  the  times  had  not  given  us 
an  opportunity  of  knowing  them  so  well  ! 
They  are  the  imitators  of  that  tnnid  disciple 
who  admired  Jesus  Christ,  who  was  fully 
convinced  of  the  truth  of  his  doctrine,  stricken 
with  the  glory  of  his  miracles,  penetrated 
with  the  divinity  of  his  mission,  and  his  pro- 
selyte in  his  heart  ;  but  who,  '  for  fear  of  the 
Jews,'  John  vii.  i:?,  durst  not  venture  to 
make  an  open  profession  of  the  truth,  and,  as 
the  evangelist  remarks,  'went  to  Jesus  by 
night,'  chap.  iii.  2.  Thus  our  modern  Nico- 
demites.    They  are  shocked  at  superstition. 


*   Vid.  Blondcl  des  Sibilles.  Liv.  i.  chap.  v.  x.  sjv. 
and  xxiv. 


thej'  thoroughly  know  the  truth,  they  form  a 
multitude  of  ardent  wishes  for  the  prosperity 
of  the  church,  and  desire,  they  say,  to  see 
the  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ  openly  march 
with  their  banners  displayed,  and  to  list 
themselves  under  them  the  first :  but  they 
only  pretend,  that  in  time  of  persecution, 
when  they  cannot  make  an  open  profession 
without  ruining  their  families,  sacrificing 
their  fortunes,  and  fleeing  their  country,  it 
is  allowable  to  yield  to  the  times,  to  disguise 
their  Christianity,  and  to  be  antichristian 
without,  provided  they  be  Christians  within. 

1.  But,  if  their  pretences  be  well-grounded, 
what  mean  these  express  decisions  of  our 
Scriptures .'  '  Whosoever  shall  confess  me 
before  men,  him  will  1  confess  also  before  my 
Father  which  is  in  heaven  ;  but  whosoever 
shall  deny  me  before  men,  him  will  I  also 
deny  before  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven. 
He  that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me, 
is  not  worthy  of  me.  And  he  that  taketh  not 
his  cross,  and  followetli  alter  me,  is  not  wor- 
thy of  me.  He  that  lindeth  his  life,  shall 
lose  it ;  and  he  that  loscth  his  life,  for  my 
sake,  shall  find  it.  Whosoever,  therefore, 
shall  be  ashamed  of  me,  and  of  my  words,  in 
this  adulterous  and  sinful  generation,  of  him 
also  shall  the  Son  of  man  be  ashamed,  when 
he  Cometh  in  the  glory  of  his  Father,  with 
the   holy  angels,'  Matt.   x.  32;    Mark   viii. 

2.  If  there  be  any  ground  for  the  pleas  of 
temporizers,  why  do  the  scriptures  set  before 
us  the  examples  of  those  believers  who  walk- 
ed in  paths  of  tribulation,  and  followed 
Jesus  Christ  with  heroical  firmness  in  steps 
of  crucifixion  and  maityrdom.'  Why  record 
the  example  of  the  three  children  of  Israel, 
who  chose  rather  to  be  cast  into  a  fiery  furnace, 
than  to  fall  down  before  a  statue,  set  up  by 
an  idolatrous  king  ?  Uan.  iii  !!•.  ^^  hy  that 
of  the  martyrs,  who  suilered  under  the  bar- 
barous Antiochus,  and  the  courage  of  that 
mother,  who,  after  she  had  seven  times  suf- 
fered death,  so  to  apeak,  by  seeing  each  of 
her  seven  sons  put  to  death,  suffered  an 
eighth,  by  imitating  their  example,  and  by 
crowning  their  mart)'rdom  with  her  own .' 
Why  that  *  cloud  of  witnesses,  who  through 
faith  were  stoned,  were  sawn  asunder,  were 
tempted,  were  slain  with  the  sword,  wander- 
ed about  in  slieep  skins  and  goat-skins; 
being  destitute,  afflicted,  tormented .-"  Heb. 
xi.  o7. 

3.  If  the  pretences  of  time-servers  be  well- 
grounded,  what  was  the  design  of  tho  purest 
actions  of  the  primitive  church ;  of  those 
councils  which  were  held  on  account  of  Buch 
as  had  the  weakness  to  cast  a  grain  of  incense 
into  the  fire  tiiat  burned  on  the  altar  of  au 
idol  ?  Why  those  rigorous  canons  which  were 
made  against  them  ;  those  severe  penalties 
that  were  inflicted  on  them  ;  those  delays  of 
their  absolution,  whicii  continued  till  near 
the  last  moments  of  their  lives.'' 

If  these  pretences  bo  allowable,  what  is 
the  use  of  all  the  promises  which  are  made 
to  confessors  and  martyrs ;  the  white  gar- 
ments, that  are  reserved  for  them  ;  the  palms 
of  victory  which  are  to  be  put  in  their  hands ; 
the  crowns  of  glory  that  are  prepared  for 
them ;    the   reiterated    declarations  of  the 


Srh.  XXVII.j 


THE  SALE  OF  TRUTH. 


2o5 


/ 


author  and  finisher  of  thoir  faith,  'To  him 
that  overcometh  will  I  ^rant  to  sit  with  me 
ij]  my  throne.  Hold  that  fast  whicli  thou 
hast,  that  no  man  take  thy  crown,'  Rev  iii. 
11.31. 

4.  If  these  pretences  bo  reasonable,  would 
God  have  afforded  such  miraculous  assistance 
to  his  servants  the  martyrs,  in  the  time  of 
their  martyrdom  .''  It  was  in  the  suffering'  of 
martyrdom  that  St.  Peter  saw  an  angel,  who 
opened  the  prison-doors  to  him,  Acts  xii.  7. 
In  suffering  martyrdom,  Paul  and  Silas  felt 
the  prison,  that  confined  them,  shake,  and 
their  chains  loosen  and  fill  off,  ver.  14.  In 
suffering  martyrdom,  St.  Stephen  '  saw  the 
heavens  opened,  and  Jesus  standing  on  the 
right  hand  of  God,'  chap.  xvi.  2G  ;  and  viii. 
56.  In  the  suffering  of  martyrdom  Barlaam, 
sang  this  song,  '  Blessed  be  the  Lord,  who 
teaclieth  my  hands  to  war,  and  my  fingers  to 
fight,'  Ps.  cxliv.  1.**  It  was  during  tlieir 
martyrdom,  that  Pcrpetvia  and  Felicitas  saw 
a  ladder  studded  with  swords,  daggers,  and 
instruments  of  punishment  that  reached  up 
to  heaven,  at  tha  top  of  which  stood  Jesus 
Christ  encouraging  them.t  And  you,  my 
brethren,  in  participating  the  sufferings  of 
primitive  believers,  have  you  not  partaken  of 
their  consolations  ?  Sometimes  Providence 
opened  ways  of  escape  in  spite  of  the  vigi- 
lance of  your  enemies.  Sometimes  power- 
ful protections, which  literally  fulfilled  the  pro- 
mise of  the  gospel,  that  he  who  should  quit 
any  teaiporal  advantage  for  the  sake  of  it, 
should  '  receive  a  himdredfold,  even  in  this 
Hfe.'  Sometimes  deliverances,  which  seem- 
ed perfectly  miraculous.  Sometimes  a  firm- 
ness equal  to  the  most  cruel  tortures  ;  an 
heroical  courage,  that  astonished,  yea,  that 
wearied  out  your  executioners.  Sometimes 
transporting  joys,  which  enabled  you  to  say, 
'  When  we  are  weak,  then  are  we  strong. 
We  are  more  than  conquerors,  through  him 
that  loved  us  We  glory  in  tribulations  also.' 
So  many  reflections,  so  many  arguments, 
which  subvert  the  pretences  of  Nicodemites; 
and  which  prove  that  with  the  greatest  rea- 
son, we  place  them  among  those  who  betray 
the  truth. 

But,  great  God !  to  what  am  I  doomed 
this  day  ?  Who  are  these  time-servers,  who 
are  these  Nicodemites,  whose  condemnation 
wo  are  denouncing  ?  How  many  of  my  audi- 
tors have  near  relations,  enveloped  in  this 
misery  .'  Where  is  there  a  family  of  our  ex- 
iles, to  which  the  words  of  a  prophet  may 
not  be  applied ;  '  My  flesh  is  in  Babylon, 
and  my  blood  among  the  inhabitants  of  Chal- 
dea,'  Jer.  li.  35.  Ah  I  shame  of  the  ref^irma- 
tion  !  Ah!  fatal  memoir!  just  cause  of  per- 
petual grief!  Thou  Rome  !  who  iusultest 
and  gloriest  over  us,  do  not  pretend  to  con- 
found us  with  the  sight  of  galleys  filled  by 
thee  with  protestant  slaves,  whose  miseries 
thou  dost  aggrav.ite  with  reiterated  blows, 
with  galling  chains,  with  pouring  vinegar 
into  their  wounds  !  Do  not  pretend  to  con- 
found us  by  sh  twin*  us  gloomy  and  filthy 
dungeons,  iniccessible  to  every  ray  of  li^iht, 
the  horror  of  which  thou  dost  augment  by 
leaving  the  bodies  of  the  dead  in  those  dens 


*  Basil.  Tom.  i.  440.  Homil.   18.  Edit,  de  Paris,  1638. 
f  Tertul.  de  anima.  Cap.  Iv. 


of  fhe  living  :  these  horrid  holes  have  been 
changed  into  delightful  spots,  by  the  influ- 
ences of  that  grace  which  God  has  '  shed 
abroad  in  the  hearts'  of  the  prisoners,  Rom. 
v.  5,  and  by  the  songs  of  triumph  which  they 
have  incessantly  sung  to  his  glory.  Do  not 
pretend  to  confound  us  by  showing  us  our 
houses  demolished,  our  families  dispersed, 
our  fugitive  flocks  driven  to  wander  over  the 
face  of  the  whole  world.  These  objects  are 
our  glory,  and  thy  insults  are  our  praise. 
Wouldest  thou  cover  us  with  confusion .' 
Show  us,  show  us  the  souls  which  thou  hast 
taken  from  us  Reproach  us,  not  that  thou 
hast  extirpated  heresy  ;  but  that  thou  hast 
caused  us  to  renounce  religion :  not  that 
thou  hast  made  martyrs ;  but  that  thou  hast 
made  Protestants  apostates  from  the  truth. 
This  is  our  tender  part.  Here  it  is  that 
no  sorrow'  is  like  our  sorrow.  On  this  ac- 
count '  tears  run  down  the  wall  of  the  daugh- 
ter of  Zion  like  a  river,  day  and  nigVit,'  I,ani. 
ii.  18.  What  shall  I  say  to  you,  my  brethren, 
to  comfort  you  under  your  just  complaints  .' 
Had  you  lost  your  fortunes,  I  would  tell  you, 

'  a  Christian's  treasure  is  in  heaven.     Had  you 

;  been   banished   from    your   country    only,  I 

:  would  tell  you,  a  faithful  soul  finds  its  God  in 
desert  wildernesses,  in  dreary  solitudes,  and 
in  the  most  distant  climes.  Had  you  lost 
only  your  churches,  I  would  tell  you,  the 
favour  of  God  is  not  confined  to  places  and 
to  walls.     But,  you  weeping  consorts  ;    whe 

'  show  me  your  husbands  separated  from  Jesus 
Christ,  by  an  abjuration  of  thirty  years; 
what  shall  I  say  to  you .'  What  shall  I  tell 
you,  yo  tender  mothers !  who  show  me  your 
children  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  altar  of  an 
idol .' 

i      O  God !    are  thy  compassions  exhausted  ? 

;  Has  religion,  that  source  of  endless  joy,  no 
consolation  to  assuage  our  grief.'  These  de- 
serters of  the  truth  are  our  friends,  our 
brethren,  other  parts  of  ourselves.  Moreover, 
they  are  both  apostates  and  martyrs :  apos- 
tates, by  their  fall ;  martyrs,  by  their  desire, 
although  feeble,  of  rising  again :  apostates, 
by  the  fears  that  retain  them  ;  martyrs,  by 
the  emotions  that  urge  them:  apostates,  by 
the  superstitious  practices  which  they  are 
constrained  to  perform ;  martyrs,  by  the 
secret  sighs  and  tears  which  they  address 
to  heaven.  O  may  the  martyr  obtain  mercy 
for  the    apostate  !    May  their  frailty  excuse 

!  their   fall  !     May  their   repentance    expiate 

i  their  idolatry  !  or  rather.  May  the  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ,  covering  apostacy,  frailty,  and 

[  the  imperfection  of  repentance  itself,  disarm 
thy  justice,  and  excite  thy  compassion  ! 

I  IV.  We  have  put  judges  in  the  fourth 
class  of  those  to  wiiom  the  text  must  be  ad- 

I  dressed,  '  Sell  not  the  truth.' 

I  1.  A  judge  '  sells  trutli,'  if  he  be  partial  to 
him  whose  cause  is  unjust,  on  account  of 
his  connexions  with  him.  When  a  judge 
ascends  the  judgment-seat  he  ought  entirely 
toforiret  all  the  connexions  of  friendship,  and 
of  blood  He  ouaht  to  <ru.ird  against  himself, 
lest  the  impressions  tint  connexions  have 
made  on  his  heart,  should  alter  the  judgment 
of  his  mind,  and  should  make  him  turn  the 
sc  le  in  favour  of  thoso  with  whom  he  is 
united  by  tender   ties.     He  ought  to  '  bear 


25G 


THE  SALE  OF  TRUTH- 


[JJEK.    XX  VII. 


the  Bword"  indifferently,  Rom.  xiii.  4,  like 
another  Levi,  against  his  brother,  and  against 
his  friend,  and  to  merit  the  praise  that  was 
jjiven  to  that  holy  man.  '  He  said  unto  his 
father,  and  to  his  mother,  I  have  not  seen  him, 
neither  d  d  he  acknowledge  his  brethren,  nor 
knew  his  own  children,'  Deut.  xxiii.  11*.  He 
ouglit  to  involve  his  e3'es  in  a  thick  mist, 
through  which  it  would  be  impossible  for  him 
to  distinguish  from  tiie  rest  of  the  crowd,  per- 
sons for  whoni  nature  so  powerfully  pleads. 

2.  A  judge  '  sells  truth,'  when  he  suffers 
himself  to  be  dazzled  with  the  false  glare  of 
the  language  of  him  who  pleads  against  jus- 
tice. Some  counsellors  have  the  Iront  to  af- 
firm a  maxim,  and  to  reduce  it  to  practice,  in 
direct  opposition  to  the  oaths  they  took  when 
they  were  invested  with  their  character.  The 
maxim  I  mean  is  this  ;  as  the  business  of  a 
judge  is  to  distinguish  truth  from  falsehood, 
so  the  business  ot  a  counsellor  is,  not  only  to 
place  the  rectitude  of  a  cause  in  a  clear  light, 
but  also  to  attribute  to  it  all  that  can  be  in- 
vented by  a  man  expert  in  giving  sophistry 
the  colours  of  demonstration  and  evidence. 
To  suffer  himself  to  be  misled   by  the  ignes 

fatui  of  eloquence,  or  to  put  on  the  air  of  be-  I 
ing  convinced,  either  to  spare  himself  the 
trouble  of  discussing  a  truth,  which  the  arti-  ! 
fice  of  the  pleader  envelopes  in  obscurity  ;  or 
to  reward  the  orator  in  part  for  the  pleasure 
Jie  has  afforded  him  by  the  vivacity  and  po- 
liteness of  his  harangue  :  each  of  these  is  a 
sale  of  truth,  a  sacrificing  of  the  rights  of 
widows  and  orphans,  to  a  propriety  of  ges- 
ture, a  tour  of  expression,  a  figure  of  rhetoric. 

3.  A  judge  sells  truth,  when  he  yields  to  the 
troublesome  assiduity  of  an  indefatigable  soli- 
citor. The  practice  of  soliciting  the  judges 
is  not  the  less  irregular  for  being  authori- 
zed by  custom.  When  people  avail  them- 
selves of  that  access  to  judges,  which,  in  other 
cases  belongs  to  their  reputation,  their  titles, 
or  their  birth,  they  lay  snares  for  their  inno-  ] 
cence.  A  client  ought  not  to  address  his 
judg'es,  except  in  the  person  of  him,  to  whom 
he  has  committed  his  cause,  imparted  his 
grounds  of  action,  and  lefl  the  making  of  the 
most  of  them.  To  regard  solicitations  instead 
of  reproving  them  ;  to  suffer  himself  to  be 
carried  away  with  the  talk  of  a  man,  whom 
the  avidity  of  gaining  his  cause  inflames,  in- 
spires subtle  inventions,  and  dictates  emphati- 
cal  expressions,  is,  again,  to  '  sell  truth.' 

4.  A  judge  sells  truth,  when  he  receives 
presents.  '  Thou  shalt  not  take  a  gift ;  for  a 
gift  doth  blind  the  eyes  of  the  wise,  and  per- 
vert the  words  of  the  righteous,'  Deut.  xvi. 
19.     God  gave  this  precept  to  the  Jews. 

5.  A  judge  makes  a  sale  of  truth,  when  he 
is  terrified  at  tiie  power  of  an  oppressor.  It 
has  been  often  seen  in  the  most  august  bodies, 
that  suffrages  have  been  constrained  by  the 
tyranny  of  some,  and  sold  by  the  timidity  of 
others.  Tyrants  have  been  known  to  attend, 
either  in  their  own  persons,  or  in  those  of 
their  emissaries,  in  the  very  assemblies 
which  were  convened  on  purpose  to  maintain 
the  rights  of  the  peojde,  and  to  check  the 
progress  of  tyranny.  Tyrants  have  been  seen 
to  endeavour  to  direct  opinions  by  signs  of 
their  hands,  and  by  motions  of  their  eyes  ; 
they  huve  been  known  to  intimidate  judges 


by  menaces,  and  to  corrupt  them  by  promises  -, 
and  judges  have  been  known  to  prostrate 
their  souls  before  these  tyrants,  and  to  pay 
the  same  devoted  deference  to  maxims  of  ty- 
ranny, that  is  due  to  nothing  but  an  authority 
tempered  witli  ejuity.  A  judge  on  his  tribu- 
nal ought  to  fear  none  but  him  whose  sword 
is  committe  !  to  him.  He  ought  to  be  not 
only  a  defender  of  truth,  he  ought  also  to 
become  a  martyr  for  it,  and  confirm  it  with 
his  blood,  were  his  blood  necessary  to  confirm 
it. 

'  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear,' 
Matt.  xi.  15.  There  is  a  primitive  justice  es- 
sential to  moral  beings  ;  a  justice  indepen- 
dent of  the  will  of  any  Superior  Being;  be- 
cause thei.p  are  certain  [)rimitive  and  essential 
relations  between  mora!  beings,  which  belong 
to  their  nature.  As,  when  you  suppose  a. 
square,  you  suppose  a  being  that  has  four 
sides  ;  as,  when  you  suppose  a  body,  you 
suppose  a  being,  from  which  extent  is  insepa- 
rable, and  independent  of  any  positive  will  of 
a  Superior  Being ;  so  when  you  suppose  a 
benefit,  you  suppose  an  equity,  a  justice,  a 
fitness,  in  gratitude,  because  there  is  an  es- 
sential relation  between  gratitude  and  benefit; 
and  the  same  may  be  said  of  every  moral  ob- 
ligation. 

The  more  perfect  an  intelligent  being  is, 
the  more  intelligence  is  detached  frsm  pre- 
judices ;  the  clearer  the  ideas  of  an  intelligent 
mind  are,  the  more  fully  will  it  perceive  the 
opposition  and  the  relation,  the  justice  and 
the  injustice,  that  essentially  belong  to  ;he 
nature  of  moral  beings.  In  like  manni  r,  the 
more  perfection  an  intelligence  has,  the 
morr-  does  it  surmount  irregular  motions  of 
the  passions  ;  and  the  mon^  it  approves  jus- 
tice, the  more  will  it  disapprove  injustice  ; 
the  more  it  is  inclined  to  favour  what  is 
right,  the  more  will  it  be  induced  to  avoid 
what  is  wrong. 
j  God  is  an  intelligence,  who  possesses  all 
perfections  ;  his  ideas  are  perfect  image''  of 
objects ;  and  on  the  model  of  his  all  objects 
were  formed.  He  sees,  with  perfect  exactness, 
the  essential  relations  of  justice  and  injustice. 
He  is  necessarily  inclined,  though  without 
I  constraint,  and  by  the  nature  of  liis  perfec- 
tions, to  approve  justice,  and  to  disapprove 
injustice ;  to  display  his  attributes  in  procu- 
ring happiness  to  the  good,  and  misery  to  the 
i  wicked. 

In  the  present  economy,  a  part  of  the  rea- 
;  sons  of  which  we  discover,  while  some  of  the 
reasons  of  it  are  hidden  in  darkness,  God 
does  not  immediately  dilsinguish  the  cause 
that  is  founded  on  equity,  from  that  which  is 
grounded  on  iniquitous  principles.  This  office 
he  has  deposited  in  the  hands  of  judges ;  he 
has  intrusted  them  with  his  power  ;  he  has 
comniitted  his  sword  to  them  ;  he  has  placed 
them  on  his  tribunal  ;  and  said  to  them,  '  Ye 
are  gods,'  Ps,  Ixxxii.  6,  But  the  more  august 
the  tribunal,  the  more  inviolable  the  power, 
the  more  formidable  the  sword,  the  more  sa- 
cred the  office,  the  more  rigorous  will  their 
pvmishments  be,  who,  in  any  of  tlie  ways  we 
have  mentioned,  betray  the  interests  of  that 
trtith  and  justice  with  which  they  are  intrust- 
ed. Some  judges  have  defiled  the  tribunal  of 
'  tlic  Jud"e  of  all  the  earth.'  Gen.  xviii.  $25. 


ri£B.  XXVIl.] 


THE  SALE  OF  TRUTH. 


257 


on  which  they  were  elevated.  Into  the  bow- 
els of  the  innocent  they  have  tlirust  that 
sword  which  was  jriven  them  to  maintain 
order,  and  to  transfix  those  who  subvert  it. 
That  supreme  power,  which  God  gave  them, 
they  have  employed  to  war  against  that  God 
himself  who  vested  them  with  it,  and  him  they 
have  braved  with  insolence  and  pride.  'I  saw 
under  the  sun  the  place  of  judgment,  that 
wickedness  was  tliere  ;  and  the  place  of  ri-rht- 
eousness,  that  iniquity  was  there  ;  and  I  said 
in  mine  heart,  Grd  shall  judge  the  righteous 
and  the  wicked.  If  thou  seest  the  oppression 
of  the  poor,  and  the  violent  perverting  of 
judgment  and  justice  in  a  province,  marvel 
uot  at  the  matter;  for  He,  that  is  higher 
than  the  highest,  regardeth  it,  and  there  be 
higher  than  they.  Be  wise  now  therefore, 
O  ye  kings  :  be  instructed,  ye  judges  of  the 
earth.  '  Buy  the  truth,  and  sell  it  not,'  Eccl. 
iii.  IG ;  v.  3  ;  Ps.  ii.  10. 

V.  This  precept  of  Solomon,  '  Sell  not  the 
truth,'  regards  the  politician,  who,  by  a  timid 
circumspection,  uses  an  artful  concealment, 
when  he  ought  to  probe  state  wounds  to  the 
bottom,  and  to  discover  the  real  authors  of  its 
miseries,  and  the  true  causes  of  its  decline. 
lu  these  circumstances,  it  is  not  enough  to 
mourn  over  public  calamities  in  secret ;  they 
must  be  spoken  of  with  firmness  and  courage  ; 
the  statesman  must  be  the  mouth  and  the 
voice  of  all  those  oppressed  people,  whose 
onlyreso'irces  are  prayers  and  tears  ;  he  must 
discover  Uku  fatal  intrigues  that  are  whispered 
in  corners  against  hi.s  country  ;  unveil  the 
mysterious  springs  of  the  conduct  of  him, 
who,  under  pretence  of  public  benefit,  seeks 
only  hi.v  o..ii  private  emolument;  he  must 
publish  the  shame  of  him,  who  is  animated 
with  no  other  desire,  than  that  of  building  his 
own  house  on  the  ruins  of  church  and  state ; 
he  must  arouse  him  from  his  indolence,  who 
deliberates  by  his  own  hre-side,  when  immi- 
nent dangers  require  him  to  adopt  bold,  vigor- 
ous, and  effectual  measures  ;  he  must,  without 
scruple,  sacrifice  him,  who  himself  sacrifices 
to  his  own  avarice  or  ambition,  whole  socie- 
ties ;  he  must  fully  persuade  other  senators, 
that,  if  the  misfortunes  of  the  times  require  the 
death  of  any,  it  must  be  that  of  him  who  kin- 
dled the  fire,  and  uot  of  him  who  is  ready  to 
shed  the  last  drop  of  his  blood  to  extinguish 
it.  To  keep  fair  with  all,  on  these  occasions, 
and  by  a  timid  silence,  to  avoid  incurring  the 
displeasure  of  those  who  convulse  the  state, 
and  of  those  who  cry  for  vengeance  against 
them,  is  a  conduct  not  only  unworthy  of  a 
Christian,  but  unworthy  of  a  good  patriot. 
Silence  then  is  an  atrocious  crime,  and  to 
suppress  truth  is  to  sett  it,  to  betraij  it. 

How  does  an  orator  merit  applause,  my 
brethren,  when,  being  called  to  give  his  suf- 
frage for  the  public  good,  he  speaks  witli  that 
lire,  which  the  love  of  his  country  kindles, 
and  knows  no  law  but  equity,  and  the  safety 
of  the  people  !  With  this  noble  freedom  the 
heathens  debated  ;  their  intrepidity  astonish- 
es only  those  who  are  destitute  of  courage  to 
imitate  them.  Represent  to  yourselves  De- 
mosthenes speaking  to  his  masters  and 
judges,  and  endeavouring  to  save  them  in 
spite  of  themselves,  and  in  spite  of  the  punish- 
ments which   thev    sometimes   infliclcd  ou 


those  who  ofiered  to  draw  them  out  of  the 
abysses  into  which  they  had  piunged  them- 
selves. Represent  to  yourselves  his  orator  ma- 
king remonstrances,  that  wou  I  now-a-dayd 
pass  for  firebrands  of  sedition,  a  id  saying  to 
his  country  men,  '  Will  ye  then  et  rnilly  walk 
backward  and  forward  in  your  p  ^'I'i^  n's'-ee, 
asking  one  another,  what  news .'  Is  Philip 
dead  ?  says  one.  No,  replies  another  ;  but  hw 
is  extremely  ill.  Ah!  what  does  tlie  death  ot' 
Philip  signify  to  you,  gentlemen  .■"  No  soon- 
er would  Hjaven  have  delivered  you  from. 
irim,  than  ye  yourselves  would  create  another 
Philip.'*  Imagine  you  hear  this  orator  blam- 
ing the  Athenians  for  tha  greatness  of  their 
enemy  :  '  For  my  part,  gentlemen,  I  protest 
I  could  not  help  venerating  Philip,  and  trem- 
bling at  him,  if  his  conquests  proceeded  from 
his  own  valour,  and  from  the  justice  of  his 
arms  ;  but  whoever  closely  examines  the  true 
cause  of  the  fame  of  his  exploits,  will  find  it 
in  our  faults ;  his  glory  originates  in  cur 
shame. 't  Represent  to  yourselves  this  orator 
plunging  a  dagger  into  the  hearts  of  the  per- 
fidious Athenians,  even  of  them,  who  indul- 
ged hiin  with  their  attention,  and  loaded  him 
with  their  applause.  '  War,  immortal  war, 
with  every  one  who  dares  here  to  plead  for 
Philip.  You  must  absolutely  despair  of  con- 
quering our  enemies  without,  while  you 
suffer  them  to  have  such  eager  advocatei? 
within.  Yet  you  are  arrived  at  this  pitch  of, 
what  shall  I  call  it.'  imprudence,  or  io-no- 
rance.  I  am  often  ready  to  think,  an  evil 
genius  possesses  you.  You  have  brouurJit 
yourselves  to  give  these  miserable,  these  per- 
fidious wretches  a  hearing,  some  of  whom 
dare  not  disown  the  character  I  give  them. 
It  is  not  enough  to  hear  them,  whether  it  bo 
nvy,  or  malice,  or  an  itch  for  satire,  or  what- 
ever be  the  motive,  you  order  them  to  mount 
the  rostrum,  and  taste  .i  kind  of  pleasure  a.s 
often  as  their  outrageous  railleries  and  cruel 
calumnies  rend  in  pieces  reputations  the  best 
established,  and  attack  virtue  the  most  re- 
spectable.'}: Such  an  orator,  my  brethren, 
merits  the  highest  praise.  With  whatever 
chastiseaienls  God  may  correct  a  people,  he 
has  not  determined  their  destruction,  while 
he  preserves  men,  who  are  able  to  show  then^ 
in  this  m.^nner,  the  means  of  pre  venting  it. 

VI.  Finally,  the  last  order  of  persons,  in 
terested  in  the  words  of  my  text,  consists  of 
pastors  of  the  church.  And  who  can  be 
more  strictly  engaged  not  to  sell  truth  than 
the  ministers  of  the  God  of  truth  ?  A  pastor 
should  have  this  precept  in  iiill  view  in  our 
public  assemblies,  in  his  private  visits,  and 
particularly  wlieii  he  attends  dying  people. 

1.  In  our  public  assemblies  all  is  consecrat- 
ed to  truth.  Our  churches  are  houses  of  the 
living  and  true  God.  These  pillars  are  'pil- 
lars of  truth,'  1  Tim.  iii.  15.  The  word,  that 
we  are  bound  to  announce  to  you,  '  is  truth,' 
John  xvii.  17.  Wo  be  to  us,  if  any  human 
consideration  be  capable  of  making  us  dis- 
guise that  truth,  the  heralds  of  which  we  ought 
to  be  ;  or  if  the  fear  of  showing  you  a  dis- 
agreeable light,  induces  us  '  to  put  it  under  a 
bushel !'     True,  there    are  some  mortifying 


*  Piem.  Pliilipiii. 


t  Preni.OljTilh. 
Tidis  rijil. 


2o8 


THE  SALE  OF  TRUTPI. 


[atr..  XXVII. 


trutlig  :  but  public  oflences  merit  public  re- 
proof's, whatever  sliarne  may  cover  the  guilty, 
or  however  eminent  and  elevated  their  post 
may  be.  Wo  know  not  a  sacred  head,  when 
we  see  ■  the  name  of  blasphemy  written  on 
it,'  Rev.  xiii.  1.  But  the  ignominy  of  such 
reproof,  say  ye,  will  debase  a  man  in  the  sight 
of  the  people,  whom  the  people  ought  to  re- 
spect, and  will  disturb  the  peace  of  society. 
But  who  is  responsible  for  tliis  disturbance,  he 
who  reproves  vice,  or  he  who  commits  it  ? 
And  ought  not  he,  who  abandons  himself  to 
vice,  rather  to  avoid  the  practice  of  it,  than  he 
who  censures  such  a  conduct,  to  cease  to  cen- 
sure it.''  If  any  claim  the  power  of  imposing 
silence  on  us,  on  this  article,  let  him  pro- 
duce his  right,  let  him  publish  his  preten- 
sions ;  let  hun  distribute  among  those,  who 
liave  been  chosen  to  ascend  this  pulpit,  lists 
of  the  vices  which  we  are  forbidden  to  cen- 
sure ;  let  him  signify  the  law,  that  commands 
the  reproving  of  the  offences  of  the  poor, 
but  forbids  that  of  the  crimes  of  the  rich  ;  that 
allows  us  to  censure  men  without  credit,  but 
prohibits  us  to  reprove  people  of  reputation. 

3.  A  pastor  ought  to  have  this  precept  be- 
fore his  eyes  in  his  pruatc  visits.  Let  him 
not  publish  before  a  whole  congregation  a 
secret  sin  ;  but  let  him  paint  it  in  all  its  hor- 
rid colours  with  the  same  privacy  with  which 
it  was  committed.  To  do  this  is  the  princi- 
pal design  of  those  pastoral  visits,  wliich  are 
made  among  this  congreo-ation,  to  invite  the 
members  of  it  to  the  Lord's  Supper.  There 
a  minister  of  truth  ought  to  trouble  that  false 
peace,  which  impunity  nourishes  in  the  souls 
of  the  ffuilty.  There  he  ought  to  convince 
people,  that  tlie  hiding  of  crimes  from  the 
eyes  of  men,  cannot  conceal  them  from  the 
sio-ht  of  God.  There  he  ought  to  make  men 
tremble  at  the  idea  of  that  eye,  from  the 
penetration  of  which  neitlier  the  darkness  of 
the  nioht,  nor  the  most  impenetrable  depths 
of  the  heart  can  conceal  any  thing. 

Our  ideas  of  a  minister  of  Jesus  Christ, 
are  not  fi)rmed  on  our  fancies ,  but  on  the 
descriptions  which  God  h,is  given  us  in  hia 
worH,  and  on  the  examples  of  the  holy  men 
who  went  before  us  in  the  church,  whose 
glorious  steps  we  wish  (although,  alas !  so 
?ar  inferior  to  these  models.)  whoso  glorious 
steps  we  wish  to  follow.  See  how  these  sacred 
anen  annmniccd  the  truth :  Hear  Sanmel  to 
Saul :  '  Wherefore  did.Ht  thou  not  obey  the 
voice  of  the  Lord,  but  didst  fly  upon  the  spoil, 
and  didst  evil  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord.  Hath 
the  Lord  as  great  delight  in  burnt  offerings  and 
sacrifices  as  in  nbeyina:  the  voice  of  the  Lord  .' 
Behold  !  to  obey  is  better  than  sacrifice;  and  to 
hearken  than  the  fat  of  rams.  For  rebellion 
is  as  the  sin  of  witchcraft,  and  stubbornness 
is  as  iniquity  and  idolatry,'  1  Sam.  xv.  19.  22. 
liehold  Nathan  before  David.  '  Thou  art 
the  man.  Wherefore  hast  thou  despised  the 
commandment  of  the  I^i  rd.  to  do  evil  in  his 
sight  ?  Thou  hast  killed  Uriah  the  Hittite 
with  the  sword,  and  hast  taken  his  wife  to  be 
Ihy  wife,  and  hast  slain  him  with  the  sword 
of  the  children  of  .^mmon.  Now,  therefore, 
the  sword  shall  never  depart  from  thine 
house.  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  Behold,  I  will 
raise  up  evil  against  thee  out  of  thine  own 
Jiousc,  and  I  will  take  thy  v^ivcs  before  thine 


eyes,  and  give  them  unto  thy  neighbour. 
For  thou  didst  it  secretly  :  but  I  will  do  this 
thing  before  all  Israel,  and  before  the  sun,' 
2  Sam.  xii.  7—12.  See  Elijah  before  Ahab, 
who  said  to  him,  '  Art  thou  ho  that  troubleth 
Israel  ?  I  have  not  troubled  Israel ;  but  thou, 
and  thy  father's  house,  in  that  ye  have  for- 
saken the  commandments  of  the  Lord,  and 
thou  hast  followed  Baalim,'  1  Kings  xviii.  17, 
18;  and  not  to  increase  this  list  by  quotino- 
examples  from  the  New  Testament,  see  Jere- 
miah Never  was  a  minister  more  gentle.  Ne- 
ver was  a  heart  more  sensibly  affected  with 
grief  than  his  at  the  bare  idea  of  the  calamities 
of  Jerusalem.  Yet  were  there  ever  more  terri- 
ble descriptionsof  the  judgments  of  God,  than 
those  which  this  prophet  gave  .'  When  we 
need  any  fierj'  darts  to  wound  certain  sin- 
ners, it  is  he  who  must  furnish  them.  He 
oflen  speaks  of  nothing  but  sackcloth  and 
ashes,  lamentation  and  wo.  He  announces 
nothing  but  mortality,  famine,  and  slavery. 
He  represents  the  '  earth  without  form,  and 
void,'  returned,  as  it  were,  to  its  primitive 
chaos ;  '  the  heavens  destitute  of  light ;  the 
mountains  trembling  ;  the  hills  moving  light- 
ly.' He  cannot  find  a  man  ;  '  Carmel  is  a 
wilderness,'  and  the  whole  world  a  desolation. 
All  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem  seem  to  him 
'  climbing  up  upon  the  rocks,'  or  running  into 
thickets  to  hide  themselves  from  the  '  horse- 
men and  the  bowmen.  Wh.°n  he  strives  to 
hold  his  peace,  his  heart  maketh  a  noise  in 
him,'  Jer.  vi.  22,  24.  2(3.  2'J.  His  whole  ima- 
gination is  filled  with  bloody  images.  He  is 
distorted,  if  I  may  speak  so,  with  the  poison 
of  that  cup  of  vengeance,  which  was  about 
to  be  presented  to  the  whole  earth.  A  minis- 
ter announcing  nothing  but  maledictions, 
seems  a  conspirator  against  the  peace  of  a 
kingdom.  Jeremiah  was  accused  of  holding 
a  correspondence  with  the  king  of  Babylou. 
It  was  pretended^  that  either  hatred  to  his 
country,  or  a  melancholy  turn  of  mind,  pro- 
duced his  sorrowful  prophecies  :  nothino;  but 
punishment  was  talked  of  for  him,  and,  at 
length,  ho  was  confined  in  a  '  miry  dungeon,' 
chap,  xxxviii.  6.  In  that  filth}'  dungeon  the 
love  oi  truth  supported  him. 

3.  But,  when  a  pastor  is  called  to  attend  a 
dying  fersun,  he  is  more  especially  called 
to  remember  this  precept  of  Solomon,  '  Sell 
not  the  truth.'  On  this  article,  my  brethren, 
I  wish  to  know  the  most  accessible  paths  to 
your  hearts  ;  or  rather,  on  this  article,  my 
brethren,  I  wish  to  find  the  unknown  art  of 
uniting  all  your  hearts,  so  that  every  one  of 
our  hearers  might  receive,  at  least,  from  the 
last  periods  of  this  discourse,  some  abiding 
impressions.  In  many  dying  people  a  begun 
\>rork  of  conversion  is  to  be  finished.  Others 
are  to  be  comforted  under  the  last  and  mont 
dangerous  attacks  of  the  enemy  of  their  sal- 
vation, who  terrifies  them  with  the  fear  of 
death.  In  regard  to  others,  we  must  endea- 
vour to  try  whether  nur  last  efforts  to  reclaim 
them  to  God  will  be  more  successful  than 
all  our  former  endeavours.  Can  any  reason 
be  assigned  to  counterbalance  the  motives 
wiiich  urge  us  to  speak  plainly  in  these  cir- 
cumstances .•'  A  soul  is  ready  lo  perish  ;  the 
sentence  is  preparing  ;  the  irrevocable  voice, 
'  Depart  ye  cursed  into  everlasting  firc/wiii 


Seb.XXVIII.]      the  sovereignty  of  JESUS  CHRIST,  &c. 


259 


presently  sound  ;  the  gnlfs  of  hell  yawn  ;  the 
devils  attend  to  seize  their  prey.  One  single 
method  remains  to  be  tried  :  the  last  exhor- 
tations and  efforts  of  a  pastor.  He  cannot 
entertain  the  least  hope  of  success,  unless  he 
unveil  mysteries  of  iniquity,  announce  odi- 
ous truths,  attack  prejudices,  which  the  dy- 
ing man  continues  to  cherish,  even  though 
eternal  torments  arc  following  close  at  their 
heels.  Wo  be  to  us  if  any  human  considera- 
tion stop  us  on  these  pressing  occasions,  and 
jjrevent  our  making  the  most  of  this,  the  last 
resource  ! 

It  belongs  to  you,  my  brethren,  to  render 
this  last  act  of  our  office  to  you  practicable. 
It  belongs  to  you  to  concur  with  your  pastors 
in  sending  away  company,  that  we  may  open 
our  hearts  to  you,  and  that  you  may  open 
yours  to  us.  Those  visiters,  wiio,  under 
pretence  of  collecting'  the  last  words  of  an 
expiring  man,  cramp,  and  interrupt  him, 
who  would  prepare  him  to  die,  should  repre-^s 
their  unseasonable  zeal.  If,  when  we  require 
you  to  speak  to  us  alone,  on  your  death-bed, 
we  are  animated  with  any  human  motive  ; 
if  we  aim  to  penetrate  into  your  family  se- 
crets ;  if  we  wish  to  share  j'our  estate  ;  par- 
don traitors,  assassins,  and  the  worst  of  mur- 
derers ;  but  let  national  justice  inflict  all  its 
rigours  on  those,  who  abuse  the  weakness  of 
a  dying  man,  and,  in  functions  so  holy,  are 
animated  with  motives  so  profane.  In  all 
cases,  except  in  this  one,  we  are  ready  to 
oblige  you.  A  minister,  on  this  occasion, 
ought  not  only  not  to  fall,  he  ought  not  to 
stumble.  But  how  can  you  expect  that,  in 
the  presence  of  a  great  number  of  witnesses, 
we  should  fully  expatiate  on  some  truths  to 
a  sinner  .''  Would  you  advise  us  to  tell  an 
immodest  woman  of  the  excesses  to  which 
she  had  abandoned  herself,  m  the  oresence 
of  an  easy,  credulous  husband  ?  Would  you 
have  us,  in  the  presence  of  a  whole  family, 
discover  the  shame  of  its  head  .'' 

Here  I  fiuish  this  meditation.  I  love  to 
close  all  mv  discourses  witii  ideas  of  "death. 


Nothing  is  more  proper  to  support  those,  who 
experience  the  difficulties  that  attend  the 
path  of  virtue,  than  thinking  that  the  period 
is  at  hand,  which  will  terminate  the  path, 
and  reward  the  pain.  Nothing  is  more  pro- 
per to  arouse  others,  than  thinking  that  the 
same  period  will  quickly  imbitter  their  wick- 
ed pleasures. 

Let  every  person,  of  each  order  to  which 
fhe  text  is  addressed,  take  the  pains  of  apply- 
ing it  to  Jiimself  May  the  meanness  of  flat- 
terers ;  may  the  pious  frauds  of  indiscreet 
zealots ;  may  the  fear  of  persecution,  and 
the  love  of  the  present  world,  which  makes 
such  deep  impressions  on  the  minds  of  apos- 
tates and  Nicodemites  ;  may  the  partiality  of 
judges ;  may  tlie  sinful  circumspection  of 
statesmen,  may  all  the  vices  be  banished  froni 
among  us.  Above  all,  we  who  are  ministors 
of  truth  !  let  us  never  disguise  truth  ;  let  us 
love  truth  ;  let  us  preach  truth  ;  let  us  preach 
it  in  this  pulpit  ;  let  us  preach  it  in  our  pri- 
vate visits  ;  let  us  preach  it  by  the  bed-sides 
of  the  dying.  In  such  a  course  we  may  safe- 
ly apply  to  ourselves,  in  our  own  dying-beds, 
the  words  of  those  pr(>phets  and  apostles, 
with  whom  we  ought  to  concur  in  '  the  work 
of  the  ministry,  in  the  perfecting  of  the  saints. 
I  have  coveted  no  man's  silver,  or  gold,  or 
apparel.  I  have  kept  back  nothing,  that  was 
profitable.  I  have  taught  publicly,  and  from 
house  to  house.  I  am  pure  from  the  blood 
of  all  men.  I  have  not  shunned  to  declare 
the  whole  counsel  of  God.  O  my  God  !  I 
have  preached  righteousness  in  the  great  con- 
gregation :  lo,  1  have  not  refrained  my  lips, 
O  Lord,  tiiou  knowest.  I  have  not  hid  thy 
rigiiteousnoss  within  my  heart;  I  have  de- 
clared thy  faithfulness  and  thy  salvation  ;  I 
have  not  concealed  thy  loving  kindness,  and 
thy  truth,  from  the  great  congregation. 
Withhold  not  thou  thy  tender  mercies  from 
me,0  Lord;  let  thy  loving  kindness  and  thy 
truth  c  intinually  preserve  them,'  Eph.  iv.  12  • 
Acts  XX.  33.  30.  2(3,  &e.     Amen. 


SERMON  XXVIII. 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST  IN  THE  CHURCH. 


Roj«.\ns  xiv.  7,  8. 

None  of  us  Uveth  to  himself,  and  no  man  diefh  to  Jdmself.  For,  whether  we 
live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord;  or,  whether  we  die,  we  die  unto  the  Lord: 
lohether  we  live  therefore  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's. 

meditations  to  greater  objects.  We  will  at- 
tend to  the  text  in  that  point  of  view,  in 
whicii  those  Christians  are  most  interested, 
who  have  repeatedly  engaged  to  devote  them- 
selves wholly  to  Jesus  Christ  ;  to  consecrate 
to  him  through  life,  and  to  commit  to  him 
at  death,  not  only  with  submission,  but  also 
with  joy.  those  souls,  over  which  he  has  ac- 


THESE  words  are  a  general  maxim,  which 
St.  Paul  lays  down  for  the  decision  of  a  parti- 
cular controversy.  We  cannot  well  enter 
into  the  apostle's  meaning,  unless  vire  under- 
stand the  particular  subject,  which  led  him 
to  express  himself  in  this  manner.  Our  first 
reflections,  therefore,  will  tend  to  explain  the 
subject ;  and  afterward  wc  will  extend  our 


2&0 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF 


LSer.  XXVIII. 


quired  the  noblest  riglit.  Thus  shall  we  ve- 
rify, in  the  most  pure  and  elevated  of  all 
senses,  this  saying  of  the  apostle  ;  '  n^ne  ol 
lis  liveth  to  liiiiiselt,  and  no  man  dietli  to 
Iiimself.  For,  wheliier  we  live,  we  live  unto 
Ihe  Lord  ;  or,  vvhetlier  we  die,  we  die  ujilo 
the  Lord  :  whetaer  we  live  therefore  or  die, 
we  are  liie  Lord's.' 

St  Paul  proposes  in  the  text,  and  in  some 
of  the  prtceding  and  loUowing  verses,  to  es- 
tabiisii  the  doctrme  of  tolerauon.  By  tole- 
ration, we  mean,  that  disposition  of  a  Chris- 
tian, which  on  a  principle  oi  benevolence, 
inclines  hun  to  hoid  communion  with  a  man, 
who  tiir.  ugh  weakness  of  mind,  mi^es  with 
the  truthsof  religion  some  errors,  tiiut  are 
not  entirely  incumpatible  with  it  ,  and  with 
th.  New  Testament  worship  some  ceremo- 
ni'^  which  are  unsuitable  to  its  elevation  and 
t^iniplicity,  but  which,  however,  do  not  de- 
stroy its  essence. 

Retain  every  part  of  this  definition,  for 
each  is  essential  to  the  subject  defined.  I 
say  that  he  wno  exercisys  tuieration,  acts  on 
a  principle  ol  benevolence;  lor  were  he  to 
cct  on  a  principle  of  indolence,  or,  of  con- 
tempt for  religion,  his  disposition  of  mind, 
far  trom  being  a  virtue  worthy  of  praise^ 
would  be  a  vice  fit  only  for  execration.  Tq- 
leration,  1  say,  is  to  be  exercised  towards  him 
onlv  who  errs  through  weakness  uf  muid  ■ 
forhe,  who  persists  in  his  error  through  ar- 
rogance, and  for  the  sake  of  rending  the 
church,  deserves  rigorous  puiiishmenl.  ] 
say,  farther,  that  he,  whj  exurcises  tolera- 
tion, does  not  confine  himself  to  praying  for 
him  who  is  the  object  of  it,  and  to  endeayour 
to  reclaim  him,  "ho  proceeds  farther,  and 
Jiolds  cuminunion  with  him  ;  that  is  to  say, 
,  lie  assists  at  the  same  relig'ious  exercises, 
and  partakes  of  the  Lord's  Supper  at  the 
aaine  table.  'Without  this  communion,  can 
we  consider  him  whom  we  pretend  to  tole- 
rate, as  a  brother  in  the  sense  of  St.  Paul .? 
1  add  finally,  erroncuus  setUimciUs^  which 
lire  tolerated,  must  be  cumpatible  i^iith  the 
^rcal  truths  of  religion;  and  obscrranccs, 
which  are  tolerated  must  not  destroy  the  es- 
sence of  ecangeiicai  worship,  although  they 
are  incongruous  with  its  simplicity  and  glo- 
ry, llovv'  can  1  assist  in  a  service,  which, 
in  my  opinion,  is  an  insult  on  the  God  whom 
1  adore  ■:  liow  can  1  approach  the  table  of 
the  Lord,  with  a  man  who  rejects  all  the 
niysteries  which  God  exhibits  there  i  and  so 
of  the  rest  Retain,  then,  all  the  parts  of 
this  definition,  and  j'ou  will  form  a  just  no- 
lion  of  toleration. 

This  moderation,  always  necessar}-  among 
Christians,  was  particularly  so  in  the  primi- 
tive ages  of  Christianity.  The  first  church- 
es were  composed  of  two  sorts  of  proselytes  ; 
some  of  them  were  born  of  Jev»-ish  parents, 
and  had  been  educated  in  Judaism,  others 
were  converted  from  paganism  ;  and  both, 
generally  speaking,  after  they  had  embraced 
Christianity,  preserved  some  traces  of  the 
relifrions  which  they  had  renounced.  Some 
of  them  retained  scruples,  from  which  just 
jiotions  of  Christian  liberty,  it  should  seem, 
might  have  freed  them.  They  durst  not  eat 
some  foods  which  God  gave  for  the  nourish- 
ment of  mankind,  I  mean,  the  flesh  of  ani- 


mals, and  they  ate  only  herbs.  They  set 
apart  ceTirihi  days  for  devotional  exercises : 
not  from  that  wise  motive,  which  ought  to 
engage  every  rational  man  to  take  a  portion 
of  liis  life  from  the  tumult  of  the  world,  in 
order  to  consecrate  it  to  the  service  of  his 
Creator ;  but  from  I  know  not  what  notion 
of  pre-eminence,  which  they  attributed  to 
some  days  above  others.  Thus  far  all  are 
agreed  in  regard  to  the  design  of  St.  Paul  in 
the  text. 

Nor  is  thi  re  any  difficulty  in  determining 
which  of  the  two  orders  of  Christians  of 
whom  we  spoke,  St.  Paul  considers  as  an 
object  ol  toleration ;  whether  that  class, 
which  came  from  the  gentiles,  or  that,  which 
came  from  the  Jews.  It  is  plain,  the  last  was 
intended.  Every  body  knows  that  the  law  of 
Moses  ordained  a  great  number  of  feasts  un- 
der the  penalty  of  the  great  anathema.  It 
was  very  natural  for  the  converted  Jews  to 
retain  a  fear  of  incurring  that  penalty,  which 
followed  the  infraction  of  those  laws,  and 
to  carry  their  veneration  for  those  festivals 
too  far. 

There  was  one  whole  sect  among  the 
Jews,  that  abstained  entirely  from  the  flesh  of 
animals ;  they  were  the  Essenes.  Josephus 
expressly  affirms  this  ;  and  Philo  assures  us, 
that  their  tables  were  free  from  every  thing 
that  had  blood,  and  were  served  only  with 
bread,  salt,  and  hyssop.  As  the  Lssenes  pro- 
fessed a  severity  of  manners,  which  had 
some  likeness  to  the  morality  of  Jesus  Christ, 
it  is  probable,  muiiy  oi  them  embraced  ^  hris- 
tianity,  and  in  it  interwove  a  part  of  the  pe- 
culiarities of  their  own  sect. 

I  do  not  think,  however,  that  St.  Paul 
had  any  particular  view  to  the  Essenes,  at 
least,  we  are  not  obliged  to  suppose,  that  his 
views  were  confined  to  them.  All  the  world 
know,  that  Jews  have  an  aversion  to  blood. 
A  Jew,  exact  in  his  religion,  does  not  eat 
flesh,  even  to  the  present  day,  with  Chris- 
tians, lest  the  latter  should  not  have  taken 
sulncieMt  care  to  discharge  the  blood.  When, 
therefore,  St.  Paul  describes  converted  Jews 
by  their  scrupulosity  in  regard  to  the  eating 
of  blood,  he  does  not  speak  of  what  they  did 
in  their  own  families,  but  of  what  they  prac- 
tised, when  they  were  invited  to  a  convivial 
repast  with  people,  who  thought  themselves 
free  from  the  prohibition  of  eating  blood, 
whether  they  were  gentiles  yet  involved  in 
the  darkness  of  paganism,  or  gentile  converts 
to  Christianity.  Thus  far  our  subject  is  free 
from  difticulty. 

The  difiiculty  lies  in  the  connexion  of  the 
maxim  in  the  text  with  the  end,  which  St. 
Paul  proposes  in  establishing  it  'What  rela- 
tion is  there  between  Chiistian  toleration  and 
this  maxim  ?  '  None  of  us  liveth  to  himself, 
and  no  man  dieth  to  himself"  How  does  it 
follow  from  this  principle,  '  whether  we  live, 
we  live  unto  the  Lord  ;  or,  whether  we  die, 
we  die  unto  the  Lord,'  how  does  it  follow 
from  this  principle,  that  we  ought  to  tolerate 
those,  who  through  the  weakness  of  their 
minds,  mix  some  errors  with  the  grand  truths 
of  Christianity,  and  with  the  New  Testament 
worship  some  ceremonies,  which  obscure  its 
simplicity  and  debase  its  glory  .'' 

The  solution  lies  in  the  connexion  of  the 


J5BB.  xxvm.j 


JESUS  CHRIST  IN  THE  CHURCH. 


261 


text  with  the  foregoing  verses,  and  particu- 
larly with  the  fourth  verse,  '  Who  art  thou, 
that  judgest  another  man's  servant  ?'  To 
judge  in  this  place  does  not  signify  to  discern, 
hut  to  condemn.  The  word  has  this  meaning 
in  a  hundred  passages  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. I  confine  myself  to  one  passage  for 
example.  '  If  we  would  judge  ourselves,  we 
should  not  be  judged,'  1  Cor.  xi.  31  ;  that  is 
to  say,  if  we  would  condemn  ourselves  at  the 
tribunal  of  repentance,  after  we  have  parta- 
ken unworthily  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  we 
should  not  be  condemned  at  the  tribunal  of 
divine  justice.  In  like  manner,  '  Who  art 
thou,  that  judgest  another  man's  servant.'" 
is  as  much  as  to  say,  '  who  art  thou  that  con- 
demnest.-"  St.  Paul  meant  to  make  the 
Christians  of  Rome  understand,  that  it  be- 
longed only  to  tlie  sovereign  of  the  church 
to  absolve  or  to  condemn,  as  he  saw  fit. 

But  who  is  the  Supreme  head  of  the  church  ? 
Jesus  Christ ;  Jesus  Christ,  who,  with  his 
Father,  is  'over  all,  God  blessed  for  ever,' 
Rom.  ix.  5.  Jesus  Christ,  by  dying  for  the 
church,  acquired  this  supremacy,  and  in  vir- 
tue of  it,  all  true  Christians  render  him  the 
homage  of  adoration.  All  this  is  clearly  ex- 
pressed by  our  apostle,  and  gives  us  an  occa- 
sion to  treat  of  one  of  the  most  abstruse 
points  of  Christian  theology. 

That  Jesus  Christ  is  the  supreme  head  of 
the  church,  according  to  the  doctrine  of  St. 
Paul,  is  expressed  by  the  apostle  in  the  most 
dear  and  explicit  manner ;  for  after  he  has 
said,  in  the  words  of  the  text,  '  whether  we 
live  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's,'  he  adds  imme- 
diately, '  for  to  this  end  Christ  both  died,  and 
rose,  and  revived,  that  he  might  be  Lord 
both  of  the  dead  and  living.' 

That  this  Jesus, '  whose,'  the  apostle  says, 
^  we  are,'  is  God,  the  apostle  does  not  per- 
mit us  to  doubt ;  for  he  confounds  the  expres- 
sions '  to  eat  to  the  Lord,'  and  to  '  give  God 
thanks  ;'  to  '  stand  before  the  judgment  seat 
of  Christ,'  and  to  '  give  account  of  himself 
to  God ;'  to  be  '  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and 
living,'  ver.  6.  10.  12;  and  this  majestic  lan- 
guage, which  would  be  blasphemy  in  the 
mouth  of  a  simple  creature,  *  As  I  live, 
gaith  the  Lord,  every  knee  shall  bow  to  me, 
and  every  tongue  shall  confess  to  God.'  ver. 

Finally,  That  Jesus  Christ  acquired  that 
supremacy  by  his  sufferings  and  death,  in 
virtue  of  which  all  true  Christians  render  him 
the  homage  of  adoration,  the  apostle  estab- 
lishes, if  possible,  still  more  clearly.  Tliis 
appears  by  the  words  just  now  cited,  '  to  tliis 
end  Christ  both  died,  and  rose,  and  revived, 
that  he  might  be  Lord  both  of  tiie  dead  and 
living,'  ver,  8.  11.  To  the  same  purpose  the 
apostle  speaks  in  the  epistle  to  the  Philippi- 
ans,  '  He  became  obedient  unto  deatli,  even 
the  death  of  the  cross.  Wherefore  God  also 
hath  highly  exalted  him,  and  given  him  a 
name,  which  is  above  every  name ;  that  at 
the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow, 
of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  in  earth,  and 
tilings  under  the  earth ;  and  tliat  every 
tongue  should  confess  tliat  Jesus  Clirist  is 
Lord,  to  tlie  glory  of  God  the  Father.'  This 
is  the  Bovereiffnty  which  Jesus  Christ  acquir- 
ed bv  dving  for  the  church. 

•T  T. 


But  the  most  remarkable,  and  at  the  same 
time  the  most  difficult  article  on  this  subject, 
is  this.  These  texts,  which  seem  to  establisJi 
the  divinity  of  Christ  in  a  manner  so  clear, 
furnish  the  greatest  objection  that  has  ever 
been  proposed  against  it.  True,  say  the  ene- 
mies of  this  doctrine,  Jesus  Christ  is  God, 
since  the  Scripture  commands  us  to  worship 
him.  But  his  divinity  is  an  acquired  divini- 
ty ;  since  that  supremacy,  which  entitles  him 
to  adoration  as  God,  is  not  an  essential,  but 
an  acquired  supremacy.  Now,  that  this  su- 
premacy is  acquired  is  indubitable,  since  the 
texts  that  have  been  cited,  expressly  declare, 
tliat  it  is  a  fruit  of  his  sufferings  and  deatli. 
We  have  two  arguments  to  offer  in  reply. 

1.  If  it  were  demonstrated,  that  the  su- 
premacy established  in  the  forecited  texts 
was  only  acquired,  and  not  essential,  it  would, 
not  therefore  follow,  that  Jesus  Christ  had 
no  other  supremacy  belonging  to  him  in 
common  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Spir- 
it. We  are  commanded  to  worship  Jesus 
Christ,  not  only  because  he  died  for  us,  but 
also  because  ho  is  eternal  and  alrnighty,  the 
author  of  all  beings  that  exist :  and  because 
he  has  all  the  perfections  of  Deity  ;  as  wc 
can  prove  by  other  passages,  not  necessary  to 
be  repeated  here. 

2.  Nothing  hinders  that  the  true  God,  who, 
as  the  true  God,  merits  our  adoration,  should 
acquire  every  day  new  rights  over  us,  in  vir- 
tue of  which  we  have  new  motives  of  ren- 
dering those  homages  to  him,  which  we  ac- 
knowledge he  always  infinitely  merited.  Al- 
ways when  God  bestows  a  new  blessing,  he 
acquires  a  new  right.  What  was  Jicob'<! 
opinion,  when  he  made  this  vow  .'  '  If  God 
will  be  witli  me,  and  will  keep  me  in  the  way 
that  I  go.  and  will  give  me  bread  to  eaf, 
and  raiment  to  put  on,  so  that  I  come  again 
to  my  father's  house  in  peace  ;  then  shall  tlio 
Lord  be  my  God,'  Gen.  xxviii.  20,  &c. 
Did  the  patriarch  mean,  that  he  had  no 
other  reason  for  regarding  the  Lord  as  his 
God  than  this  favour,  which  he  asked  of 
liim  ?  No  such  thing.  He  meant,  tliat  to  a 
great  many  reasons,  which  bound  him  to  de- 
vote himself  to  God,  the  favour  wliicli  he 
asked  would  add  a  new  one.  It  would  be  ea- 
sy to  produce  a  long  list  of  examples  of  this 
kind.  At  present  the  application  of  this  one 
shall  suffice.  Jesus  Christ  whoassupremeGod 
has  natural  rights  over  us,  has  also  acquired 
rights,  because  he  has  designed  to  clotho 
himself  with  our  flesh,  in  which  he  died  to 
redeem  us.  JVoue  of  us  his  own,  wo  are  all 
his,  not  only  because  he  is  our  Creator,  but, 
because  lie  is  also  our  Redeemer.  He  has 
a  supremacy  over  us  peculiar  to  himself,  and 
distinct  from  that  wliich  he  has  in  common 
witlithe  Father  and  the  Holy  Spirit. 

To  return  then  to  our  principal  subject, 
from  which  this  long  digression  has  diverted 
us.  This  Jesus,  who  is  the  Supreme  Head 
of  tlie  church ;  this  Jesus,  to  whom  all  the 
members  of  the  church  are  subject ;  willeth 
that  we  should  tolerate,  and  he  himself  has 
tolerated,  those,  who,  having  in  other  cases 
an  upriglit  conscience,  and  a  sincere  inten- 
tion of  submitting  tlieir  reason  to  all  his  de- 
cisions, and  tlieir  hearts  to  all  his  commands, 
cannot  clearly  .«ee,  that  (rhristian  liberty  in- 


2G2 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  01" 


[Seh.  XXVIII. 


eludes  a  freedom  fiom  tlie  observation  of  cer- 
tain feasts,  and  from  the  distinction  of  cer- 
tain foods.  If  the  sovereign  of  tiie  church 
tolerate  them,  who  err  in  this  manner,  by 
what  right  do  you,  who  are  only  simple  sub- 
jects, undertake  to  condemn  them  ?  '  Who 
art  tiiou,that  judgest  another  man's  servant  ? 
to  liis  own  master  he  standcth  or  falleth. 
For  none  of  us  liveth  to  Jximself,  and  no  man 
dicth  to  himself  For  whether  we  live,  we  live 
unto  the  Lord  ;  and,  wliethcr  wc  die,  we  die 
unto  the  Lord  :  whether  we  live  therefore  or 
die,  we  are  the  Lord's.  Let  us  not  therefore 
judge  one  another  any  more.  Let  us,  who 
are  strong,  bear  tlie  infirmities  of  the  weak.' 

This  is  the  design  of  St.  Paul  in  the  words 
of  my  text,  in  some  of  the  preceding,  and  in 
some  of  the  following  verses.  Can  we  pro- 
ceed without  remarking,  or  without  lament- 
ing, tiie  blindness  of  those  Christians,  who, 
by  their  intolerance  to  their  brethren,  seem 
to  have  chosen  for  their  model  those  mem- 
bers of  the  church  of  Rome,  who  violate  the 
rights  of  toleration  in  the  most  cruel  man- 
ner '  We  are  not  speakhig  of  those  san- 
guinary men,  who  aim  at  illuminating  peo- 
j)lft's  minds  with  the  light  of  fires,  and  fag- 
gots, which  they  kindle  against  all,  who  re- 
ject their  systems.  Our  tears,  and  our  blood, 
Lave  assuaged  their  rage,  how  can  we  then 
think  to  appease  it  by  our  exhortations .-'  Let 
us  not  solicit  the  wrath  of  Heaven  against 
tliesc  persecutors  of  the  church;  let  us  leave 
to  the  souls  of  them  wlio  were  slain  for  the 
word  of  God,  to  cry,  '  How  long,  O  Lord, 
holy  and  true, dost  thou  notjudge  and  avenge 
our  blood  on  them  that  dwell  on  the  earth .'" 
Rev,  vi.  10. 

But,  ye  intestine  divisions !  Thou  spirit 
of  faction  !  Ye  theological  wars  !  how  long 
will  ye  be  let  loose  among  us.''  Is  it  possible 
that  Christians,  who  bear  the  name  of  re- 
formed. Christians  united  by  the  bond  of 
their  faith  in  the  belief  of  the  same  doc- 
trines, and,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak  so, 
Christians  united  by  the  very  efforts  of  their 
enemies  to  destroy  them ;  can  they  violate, 
after  all,  those  laws  of  toleration,  which  they 
have  so  often  prescribed  to  others,  and 
against  the  violation  of  which  they  have  re- 
monstrated with  so  much  wisdom  and  suc- 
cess.-' Can  they  convoke  ecclesiastical  as- 
semblies .''  Can  they  draw  up  canons .''  Can 
Ihej'  denounce  excommunications  and  ana- 
themas against  those,  who  retaining  with 
themselves  the  leading  trutiis  of  Christianity 
and  of  the  reformation,  think  differently  on 
points  of  simple  speculation,  on  questions 
purely  metaphysical,  and,  if  I  mny  speak 
the  whole,  on  matters  so  abstruse,  that  tliey 
are  alike  indeterminable  by  tjiem,  who  ex- 
clude members  from  the  communion  of  Je- 
sus Christ,  and  by  those  who  are  excluded  .' 
O  ye  sons  of  the  reformation  !  how  long  will 
3'ou  counteract  j'ourown  principles  ?  how  lonor 
will  you  take  pleasure  in  increasing  the  num- 
ber of  those,  who  breathe  only  your  destruc- 
tion, and  move  only  to  destroy  you  ?  O  ye 
subjects  of  the  Sovereign  of  the  church  ! 
how  long  will  j'ou  encroach  on  the  rights  of 
your  sovereign,  dare  to  condemn  tliose  whom 
lie  absolves,  and  to  reject  those,  whom  his 
generous  benevolence  tolerates  ?    '  Who  art 


thou  that  judgest  another  man's  servant .' 
for  none  of  us  livetii  to  himself,  and  no  man 
dieth  to  himself  For,  whether  we  live,  wg 
live  unto  the  Lord ;  and,  whether  we  die, 
we  die  unto  the  Lord :  whether  wc  live 
therefore  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's.' 

What  we  have  said  shall  suffice  for  the 
subject,  which  occasioned  the  maxim  in  the 
text.  The  remaining  time  I  devote  to  the 
consideration  of  the  general  sense  of  this 
maxim.  It  lays  before  us  the  condition,  the 
engagements,  the  inclination,  and  the  felicity 
of  a  Christian.  What  is  the  felicity  of  a 
Christian,  what  is  his  inclination,  what  are 
his  engagements,  what  is'  his  condition .' 
They  are  7wt  to  be  his  own  :  but  to  say, 
'  whether  I  live,  or  die,  I  am  the  Lord's.' 
The  whole  that  we  shall  propose  to  you,  in 
contained  in  these  four  articles. 

I.  The  text  lays  before  us  the  primitive 
condition  of  a  Christian.  It  is  a  condition 
of  depevdiince.  '  None  of  us  liveth  to  him- 
self, and  no  man  dieth  to  himself.' 

None  of  us  '  liveth  to  himself,  for  whether 
we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord.'  What  do 
we  possess,  during  our  abode  upon  earth, 
which  does  not  absolutely  depend  on  him  who 
placed  us  here  ?  Our  existence  is  not  ours ; 
our  fortune  is  not  ours  ;  our  reputation  is  not 
ours  ;  our  virtue  is  not  ours  ;  our  reason  is 
not  ours ;  our  health  is  not  ours ;  our  hfo  is 
not  ours. 

Our  existence  is  not  ours.  A  few  years 
ago  wc  found  ourselves  in  this  world,  con- 
stituting a  very  inconsiderable  part  of  it. 
A  few  years  ago  the  world  itself  was  no- 
thing. The  will  of  God  alone  has  made  a  be- 
ing of  this  nothing,  as  he  can  make  this 
bemg  a  nothing,  whenever  he  pleases  to 
do  so. 

Our  fortune  is  not  ours.  The  most  opu- 
lent persons  often  see  their  riches  make 
themselves  wings,  and  fly  away.  Houses, 
the  best  established,  disappear  in  an  instant. 
We  liave  seen  a  Job,  who  had  possessed 
seven  thousand  sheep,  three  thousand  camels, 
five  hinidred  yoke  of  oxen,  and  servants  with- 
out number  ;  we  have  seen  the  man  who 
had  been  the  greatest  of  all  the  men  of  the 
east,  lyiiTg  on  on  a  dunghill,  retaining  nothing 
of  his  prosperity  but  a  sorrowful  remem- 
brance, which  aggravated  the  adversities  that 
followed  it. 

Our  reputation  is  not  ours.  One  single 
frailty  sometimes  tarnisjies  a  life  of  the  most 
unsullied  beauty.  One  moment's  absence 
sometimes  debases  tlie  glory  of  the  most  pro- 
found politician,  of  the  most  expert  general, 
of  a  saint  of  the  liighcst  order.  A  very  di- 
minutive fault  will  serve  to  render  contemp- 
tible, yea,  infamous,  tlie  man  who  committed 
it ;  and  to  make  him  tremble  at  the  thought 
of  appearing  before  men,  who  have  no  other 
advantage  over  him  than  that  of  having  com- 
mitted the  same  offence  more  fortunateh' ; 
I  mean,  of  having  concealed  the  commis- 
sion of  it  from  the  eyes  of  their  fellow-crea- 
tures. 

Our  mrtue  is  not  ours.  Want  of  opportu- 
nity is  often  the  cau.se  why  one,  who  open- 
ly professes  Christianity,  is  not  an  apos- 
tate ;  another  an  adulterer;  another  a  mur- 
derer. 


Sbb.  XXVIII.] 


JESUS  CHRIST  IN  THE  CHURCH. 


263 


Our  reason  is  not  ours.  While  we  possess 
it,  we  are  subject  to  distractions,  to  absence 
of  thought,  to  suspension  of  intelligence, 
which  render  us  entirely  incapable  of  reflec- 
tion ;  and,  what  is  still  more  mortifying  to 
human  nature,  they  whose  geniuses  are  the 
most  transcendent  and  sublime,  sometimes 
become  either  melancholy  or  mad  ;  like  Ne- 
buchadnezzar they  sink  into  beasts  and 
browse  like  them  on  the  herbage  of  the 
field. 

Our  health  is  not  ours.  The  catalogue  of 
those  infirmities  which  destroy  it  (I  speak  of 
those  which  we  know,  and  which  mankind 
by  a  study  of  five  or  six  thousand  years  have 
discovered),  makes  whole  volumes.  A  cata- 
logue of  those  which  are  unknown,  would 
probably  make  yet  larger  volumes. 

Our  life  is  not  ours.  Winds,  waves,  heat, 
cold,  aliments,  vegetables,  animals,  nature, 
:ind  each  of  its  component  parts,  conspire  to 
deprive  us  of  it.  Not  one  of  those  who  have 
entered  this  church,  can  demonstrate  that 
lie  shall  go  out  of  it  alive.  Not  one  of  those 
who  compose  this  assembly,  even  of  the 
youngest  and  strongest,  can  assure  himself  of 
one  year,  one  day,  one  hour,  one  moment  of 
life.  '  None  of  us  liveth  to  himself ;  for,  if  we 
live  we  are  the  Lord's., 

Farther,  '  No  man  dieth  to  himself.  If  we 
die,  we  are  the  Lord's.'  How  absolute  so- 
ever the  dominion  of  one  man  over  another 
may  be,  there  is  a  moment  in  which  both  are 
on  a  level ;  that  moment  comes  when  we 
die.  Death  delivers  a  slave  from  the  power 
of  a  tyrant,  under  whose  rigour  he  has  spent 
his  life  in  groans.  Death  terminates  all  the 
relations  that  subsist  between  men  in  this 
life.  But  the  relation  of  dependance,  which 
subsists  between  the  Creator  and  his  crea- 
tures, is  an  eternal  relation.  That  world  into 
which  we  enter  when  wc  die,  is  a  part  of 
his  empire,  and  is  as  subject  to  his  laws  as 
that  into  which  we  entered  when  wo  were 
born.  During  this  life,  the  Supreme  Gover- 
nor has  riches  and  poverty,  glory  and  igno- : 
miny,  cruel  tyrants  and  clement  princes, 
rains  and  droughts,  raging  tempests  and  re-  ^ 
freshing  breezes,  air  wholesome  and  air  in-  ■ 
fected,  famine  and  plenty,  victories  and  de- 
feats, to  render  us  happy  or  miserable.  After 
death,  he  has  absolution  and  condemnation, 
a  tribunal  of  justice  and  a  tribunal  of  mercy,  \ 
angels  and  devils,  '  a  river  of  pleasure  and  a 
lake  burning  with  fire  and  brimstone,'  hell 
with  its  horrors  and  heaven  with  its  happi- 
ness, to  render  us  happy  or  miserable  as  ho 
pleases. 

These  reflections  are  not  quite  sufficient 
to  make  us  feel  all  our  dependance.  Our 
vanity  is  mortified,  when  wc  remember,  that 
what  we  enjoy  is  not  ours :  but  it  is  some- 
times, as  it  were,  indemnified  by  observing 
the  great  means  that  God  employs  to  deprive 
us  of  our  enjo3'ments.  God  has,  in  general, 
excluded  this  extravagant  motive  to  pride. 
He  has  attached  our  felicity  to  one  fibre,  to 
one  caprice,  to  one  grain  of  sand,  to  objects 
the  least  likely,  and  seemingly  the  least  capa- 
ble, of  influencing  our  destiny. 

On  v/hat  is  the  high  idea  of  yourself 
founded  f  On  your  genius  ?  And  what  is 
'leccgtary  to  reduce  the  finest  genius  to  that 


state  of  melancholy  or  madness,  of  which  I 
just  now  spoke !  Must  the  earth  quake  ."* 
Must  the  sea  overflow  its  banks  ?  Must  the 
heavens  kindle  into  lightning  and  resound  in 
thunder  .''  Must  the  elements  clash,  and  the 
powers  of  nature  be  shaken  ?  No  ;  there  needs 
nothing  l)ut  the  displacing  of  one  little  fibre 
in  your  brain ! 

On  what  is  the  high  idea  of  yourself  found- 
ed.'' On  that  self-complacence  which  for- 
tune, rank,  and  pleasing  objects,  that  sur- 
round you,  seem  to  contribute  to  e.xcite  ? 
And  what  is  necessary  to  dissipate  your  self- 
complacence  ?  Must  the  earth  tremble  .''  Must 
tiie  sea  overflow  its  banks.''  Must  heaven 
arm  itself  with  thunder  and  lightning  ?  Must 
all  nature  be  shaken?  No;  one  caprice  is 
sufiicient.  An  appearance,  under  which  an 
object  presents  itself  to  us,  or  rather,  a  colour, 
that  our  imagination  lends  it,  banishes  self- 
complacencg,  and  io  !  the  man  just  now  elated 
with  so  much  joy  is  fi.'ied  in  a  black,  a  deep 
despair ! 

On  what  is  the  lofty  idea  of  yourself  found- 
ed ?  On  your  health  ?  But  what  is  necessary 
to  deprive  you  of  your  health .-'  Earthquakes  .- 
Armies  ?  Inundations  ?  Must  nature  return 
to  its  chaotic  state  ?  No  ;  one  grain  of  sand 
is  sufiicient !  That  grain  of  sand,  which  in 
another  position  was  next  to  nothing  to  you, 
and  was  really  nothing  to  your  felicity,  be- 
comes in  its  present  position,  a  punishment, 
a  martyrdom,  a  hell ! 

People  sometimes  speculate  on  the  nature 
of  those  torments,  which  divine  justice  re- 
serves for  the  wicked.  They  are  less  con- 
cerned to  avoid  the  pains  of  hell,  than  to  dis- 
cover wherein  they  consist.  They  ask,  what 
fuel  can  supply  a  fire  that  will  never  be  extin- 
guished Vain  researches  !  The  principle  in 
my  text  is  sufficient  to  give  me  frightful 
ideas  of  hell.  We  are  in  a  state  of  entire 
dependance  on  the  Supreme  Being  ;  and  to 
repeat  ii  again,  one  single  grain  of  sand, 
which  is  nothing  in  itself,  may  become  in 
the  hands  of  the  Supreme  Being,  a  punish- 
ment, a  martyrdom,  aiiell,  in  regard  to  us. 
What  dependance  !  '  Whether  we  live,  or 
whether  we  die,  we  are  the  Lord's.'  This  is 
the  primitive  condition  of  a  Christian. 

II.  Our  text  points  out  the  engagemevts 
of  a  Christian.  Let  us  abridge  our  reflec- 
tions. Remark  the  state  in  which  Jesus 
Christ  found  us;  what  he  performed  to  deli- 
ver us  from  it ;  and  under  what  conditions 
wo  enter  on  and  enjoy  this  deliverance. 

1.  In  what  state  did  Jesus  Christ  find  us, 
when  he  came  into  our  world  ?  I  am  sorry  to 
saj'  the  afl'ected  delicacy  of  the  world,  which 
increases  as  its  irregularities  multiply,  obliges 
me  to  suppress  part  of  a  metaphorical  de- 
scription, that  the  Holy  Spirit  has  given  us 
in  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  Ezekiel.  '  Tin' 
father  was  an  Amorite,  and  thy  mother  an 
Hittite,'  says  he  to  the  church.  '  When  thou 
wast  born  no  eye  pitied  thee,  to  do  any  thing 
unto  thee,  but  thou  wast  cast  out  in  the  open 
air,  to  the  loathing  of  tliy  person,  in  the  day 
that  thou  wast  born.  I  passed  b}'  thee,  and 
saw  thee  polluted  in  thine  own  blood,  and  1 
said  unto  thee,  when  thou  wast  in  thy  blood, 
Live.  1  spread  my  skirt  over  thee,  and  cover- 
ed thy  nakedness ;    yea,  I  sware  unto  thee. 


264 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF 


[Ser.  xxviir. 


and  entered  into  a  covenant  with  thoe,  and 
thou  becainest  mine,'  ver.  3,  &c. 

Let  us  leave  tlie  metaphor,  and  let  us  con- 
fine our  attention  to  the  ineaninfr.  When 
Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world,  in  what 
state  did  he  find  us  ?  Descended  from  a  long 
train  of  ancestors  in  rebellion  against  the 
laws  of  God,  fluctuating  in  our  ideas, 
ignorant  of  our  origin  and  end,  blinded  by 
our  prejudices,  infatuated  by  our  passions, 
'  having  no  hope,  and  being  without  God  in 
the  world,' Epli.  ii.  12,  condemned  to  die,  and 
reserved  for  eternal  flames.  From  this  state 
Jesus  Christ  delivered  us  and  brought  us 
into  *  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God,' 
Rom.  viii.  21,  in  order  to  enable  us  to  par- 
ticipate the  felicity  of  the  blessed  God,  by 
jaaking  us  partakers  of  the  divine  nature,'  2 
Pet.  i.  4.  By  a  deliverance  so  glorious,  does 
jiot  the  Deliverer  obtain  peculiar  rights  over 
us .' 

Remark,  farther,  on  what  conditions  Jesus 
Christ  has  freed  you  from  your  miseries, 
and  you  will  perceive,  that  '  ye  are  not  your 
own.'  What  means  tlie  morality  that  Jesus 
Christ  enjoined  in  his  gospel .''  What  vows 
were  made  for  each  of  you  at  your  baptism .'' 
What  hast  thou  promised  at  the  Lords  table.-' 
In  one  word,  to  what  authority  didst  thou 
submit  by  embracing"  the  gospel .''  Didst  thou 
say  to  Jesus  Christ,  Lord !  1  will  be  partly 
thine,  and  partly  mine  own.'  To  thee  1  will 
submit  the  opinions  of  my  mind  ;  but  the  ir- 
regular dispositions  of  my  heart  I  will  reserve 
to  myself.  I  will  consent  to  renounce  my 
vengeance  :  but  thou  shalt  allow  me  to  retain 
my  Delilah,  and  my  Drusilla.  For  thee  I 
will  quit  the  world  and  dissipating  pleasures : 
Lut  thou  shalt  indulge  the  visionary  and 
capricious  flow  of  my  humour.  On  a  Chris- 
tian festival  I  will  rise  into  transports  of 
devotion  ;  my  countenance  shall  emit  rays  of 
a  divine  flame  ;  my  eyes  shall  sparkle  Vv'ith 
seraphic  fire;  'my  heart  and  my  flesh  shall 
try  out  for  the  living  God,'  Ps.  Ixxxiv.  2; 
Lut,  when  I  return  to  the  world,  I  will  sink 
into  the  spirit  of  the  men  of  it ;  I  will  adopt 
their  maxims,  share  their  pleasures,  immerse 
myself  in  their  conversation;  and  thus  I  will 
he  alternately  '  cold  and  hot,'  Rev.  iii.  15,  a 
Christian  and  a  heathen,  an  angel  and  a  devil. 
}s  this  your  idea  of  Christianity  .'  Undoubt- 
edly it  is  that,  which  many  of  our  hearers 
liave  formed  ;  and  which  they  take  too  much 
pains  to  prove,  by  the  whole  course  of  their 
conversation.  But  this  is  not  the  idea  which 
the  inspired  writers  have  given  us  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  it  is  not  that  which,  after  their  ex- 
ample, we  have  given  you.  Him  only  I  ac- 
knowledge for  a  true  Christian,  who  is  '  not 
his  own,'  at  least,  who  continually  endeavours 
to  eradicate  the  remains  of  sin,  that  resist 
the  empire  of  Jesus  Christ.  Him  alone  I 
acknowledge  for  a  true  Christian,  who  can 
say  with  St.  Paul,  althoug^h  not  in  the  same 
degree,  yet  with  equal  sincerity,  '  1  am  cruci- 
fied with  Christ ;  nevertheless  I  live  ;  yet 
not  I,  but  Christ  livcth  in  me  :  and  the  life, 
which  I  now  live  in  the  flesh,  1  live  by  the 
faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  loved  me,  and 
gave  himself  for  me,'  Gal.  xi.  20. 

Consider,  thirdly,  what  it  cost  Jesus  Christ 
fo  deliver  rou  from  yotir  wretched  state. 


Could  our  fieedoni  have  been  procured  by  a 
few  emotions  of  benevolence,  or  by  an  act  of 
supreme  power  .•'  In  order  to  deliver  us  from 
nur  griefs,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  bear 
them  ;  to  terminate  our  sorrotcs  he  must  car- 
ry them  (according  to  the  language  of  a  pro- 
phet), to  deliver  us  from  the  strokes  of  divine 
justice  he  must  be  '  stricken  and  smitten  of 
God,'  Isa.  liii.  4.  I  am  aware  that  one  of 
the  most  deplorable  infirmities  of  the  human 
mind,  is  to  become  insensible  to  the  most  af- 
fecting objects  by  becoming  familiar  with 
them.  The  glorified  saints,  we  know,  by 
contemplating  the  sufferings  of  the  Saviour 
of  the  world,  behold  objects  that  excite  eter- 
nal adorations  of  the  mercy  of  him,  '  who 
loved  them,  and  washed  them  from  their 
sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  made  them  kings 
and  priests  unto  God  and  his  Father,'  Rev.  i. 
5,  6,  but  in  our  present  state  the  proposing  of 
these  objects  to  us  in  a  course  of  sermons  is 
sufficient  to  weary  us.  However,  I  affirm 
that  if  we  have  not  been  affected  with  what 
Jesus  Christ  has  done  for  our  salvation  it 
has  not  been  owing  to  our  thinking  too  much, 
but  to  our  not  thinking  enough,  and  perhaps 
to  our  having  never  tliought  of  the  subject 
once,  with  such  a  profound  attention  as  its 
interesting  nature  demands. 

Bow  thyself  towards  the  mystical  ark, 
Christian,  and  fix  thine  eyes  on  the  mercy- 
seat.  Revolve  in  thy  meditation  the  eisto- 
nishing,  I  had  almost  said,  the  incredible 
history  of  thy  Saviour's  love.  Go  to  Beth- 
lehem, and  behold  him  '  who  upholdeth  all 
things  by  the  word  of  his  power'  (I  use  the 
language  of  an  apostle),  him,  who  thought 
it  no  usurpation  of  the  rights  of  the  Deity  to 
be  '  equal  with  God  ;'  behold  him  '  humbling 
himself,'  (I  use  hero  the  words  of  St.  Paul, 
Heb.  i.  3  ;  Phil.  ii.  6.  His  words  are  more 
emphatical  still.)  Behold  him  annihilated  ;^ 
for,  although  the  child,  who  was  born  in  a 
stable,  and  laid  in  a  manger,  was  a  real  being', 
yet  he  may  seem  to  be  annihilated  in  regard 
to  the  degrading-  circumstances,  which  veiled 
and  concealed  his  natural  dignity :  behold 
him  annihilated  by  '  taking  upon  him  the 
form  of  a  servant.'  Follow  him  through  the 
whole  course  of  his  life ;  '  he  went  about 
doing  good,'  Acts  x.  38,  and  expose  himself 
in  every  place  to  inconveniences  and  mise- 
ries, through  the  abundance  of  his  bene- 
volence and  love.  Pass  to  Gethsemane  ;  be- 
hold his  ag'ony  ;  see  him  as  the  Redeemer  of 
mankind  contending  with  the  Judge  of  the 
whole  earth ;  an  agony  in  which  Jesus  resist- 
ed with  only  '  prayers  and  supplications, 
strong  crying  and  tears,'  Heb.  v.  7 ;  au 
agony,  preparatory  to  an  event  still  more  ter- 
rible, the  bare  idea  of  which  terrified  and 
troubled  him,  made  '  his  sweat  as  it  were 
great  drops  of  blood  falling  to  the  ground,' 
Luke  xxii.  44,  and  produced  this  prayer,  so 
fruitful  in  controversies  in  the  schools,  and 
so  penetrating  and  affecting,  so  fruitful  in 
motives  to  obedience,  devotion,  and  gratitude, 
in  truly  Christian  hearts ;  '  O  my  Father,  if 
it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me  ; 
uevertlieless.  not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt.' 

♦  Videtiir  hie  alludere  ad  Dan.  i.^  2C.  Ubi  dlcilur 
Mcssias  exinanieiidus,  ut  ei  nihil  supersit.  i.  e.  quiisi 
fn  iiihiluin  sit  rcdiceiidus;  I'cli  Siinovs.  ir.  Iff-- 


y^jit.  XXVIII.] 


JESUS  CHRIST  IN  THE  CHURCH 


265 


Matt.  xxvi.  44.  Go  yet  farther,  Christian  ! 
and,  after  thou  hast  seen  all  the  suffer- 
ings, which  Jesus  Christ  endured  in  going 
from  the  garden  to  the  cross ;  ascend  Calvary 
with  him ;  stop  on  the  summit  of  the  hill, 
and  on  that  theatre  behold  the  most  astonish- 
/  ing  of  all  the  works  of  Almighty  God.  See 
/  this  Jesus,  '  the  brightness  of  the  Father's 
/  glory,  and  the  express  image  of  his  person,' 
f  Heb.  i.  3,  see  him  stripped,  fastened  to  an 
accursed  tree,  confounded  with  two  thieves, 
nailed  to  the  wood,  surrounded  with  execu- 
tioners and  tormentors,  having  lost,  during 
this  dreadful  period,  that  sight  of  the  com- 
Ibrtable  presence  of  his  Father,  which  con- 
stituted all  his  joy,  and  being  driven  to  ex- 
claim, '  My  God  !  My  God  !  why  hast  thou 
forsaken  me  .'"  Matt,  xxvii.  40.  But  behold 
him,  amidst  all  these  painful  sufferings,  firm- 
ly supporting  his  patience  by  his  love,  reso- 
ilutely  endurnag  all  these  punishments  from 
those  motives  of  benevolence,  which  first  en- 
gaged him  to  submit  to  them,  ever  occupied 
with  the  prospect  of  saving  those  poor  mortals, 
for  whose  sake  he  descended  into  this  world, 
lixing  his  eyes  on  that  world  of  believers, 
which  his  cross  would  subdue  to  his  govern- 
ment, according  to  his  own  saying,  '  I,  if  I 
be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  will  draw  all  men 
unto  me,'  John  xii.  32.  Can  we  help  leeling 
the  force  of  that  motive,  which  the  Scripture 
proposes  in  so  many  places,  and  so  very  em- 
phatically in  these  words, '  The  love  of  Christ 
constraineth  us,'  2  Cor.  v.  14,  that  is  to  say, en- 
gages and  attaches  us  closely  to  him .'  The 
love  of  Christ  constraineth  us  because  we 
fehus  judge,  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then 
were  all  dead,  and  that  he  died  for  all,  that 
they  which  live  should  not  henceforth  live  unto 
themselves,  but  unto  him  which  died  for  them, 
and  rose  again.'  Yea  '  the  love  of  Ciirist  for- 
ceth  us,'  when  we  thinkwhat  he  has  done  for  us. 

III.  My  third  article,  which  should  treat  of 
tho  inclination  of  a  Christian,  is  naturally 
contained  in  the  second,  that  is,  in  that  which 
treats  of  his  engagements.  To  devote  our- 
selves to  a  master,  who  has  carried  his  love 
to  us  so  far  ;  to  devote  ourselves  to  him  by 
fear  and  force  ;  to  submit  to  his  laws,  because 
he  has  the  power  of  precipitating  those  into 
hell,  who  have  the  audacity  to  break  them  ; 
to  obey  him  on  this  principle  only,  this  is  a 
disposition  of  mind  as  detestable  as  disobedi- 
ence itself,  as  hateful  as  open  rebellion.  The 
samo  arguments  which  prove  that  a  Christian 
is  not  his  own  by  enjragement,  prove  that  he 
is  7iot  his  own  by  inclination.  When,  there- 
fore, we  shall  have  proved  that  this  state  is 
liis  felicity  also,  we  shall  have  finished  the 
plan  of  this  discourse. 

IV.  Can  it  be  diflicult  to  persuade  you  on 
tliis  article  .''  Stretch  your  imaginations.  Find, 
if  you  can,  any  circumstance  in  life,  in  which 
it  would  be  happier  to  reject  Christianity 
tlian  to  submit  to  it. 

Amidst  all  the  disorders  and  confusions, 
and  (so  to  speak)  amidst  the  universal  chaos 
of  the  present  world,  it  is  delightful  to  belong 
10  the  Governor,  who  first  formed  the  world, 
and  who  has  assured  us,  that  he  will  display 
the  same  power  in  renewing  it,  which  he  dis- 
played in  creating  it. 
.    in  tire  calaniitms  of  life,  it  i.-3  delightful  to 


belong  to  the  master,  who  distributes  them; 
who  distributes  them  only  for  our  good  ;  who 
knows  afllictions  by  experience  ;  whose  love 
inclines  him  to  terminate  our  sufferings  j 
and  who  continues  them  from  the  same  prin- 
ciple of  love,  that  inclines  him  to  terminate 
them,  when  we  shall  have  derived  those  ad- 
vantages from  them,  for  which  they  were  sent. 

During  the  persecutions  of  the  church,  it  is 
delightful  to  belong  to  a  guardian,  who  can 
curb  our  persecutors,  and  control  ever  ty- 
rant; who  uses  them  for  the  execution  of  his 
own  counsels  ;  and  who  will  break  them  in 
pieces  with  the  rod  of  iron,  when  they  can  no 
longer  contribute  to  tho  sanctifying  of  his 
servants. 

Under  a  sense  of  our  infirmities,  when  we 
are  terrified  with  the  purity  of  that  morality, 
the  equity  of  which  we  are  obliged  to  own, 
even  while  we  tremble  at  its  severity,  it  is 
delightful  to  belong  to  a  Judge,  who  does  not 
exact  his  rights  with  the  utmost  rigour  ;  who 
'  knoweth  our  frame,'  Psa.  ciii.  14,  who  pities 
our  infirmities ;  and  who  assureth  us,  that 
'  he  will  not  break  a  bruised  reed,  nor  quench 
the  smokinjr  flax,'  Matt.  xii.  20. 

When  our  passions  are  intoxicated  in  those 
fatal  moments,  in  which  the  desire  of  pos- 
sessing the  objects  of  our  passions  wholly  oc- 
cupies our  hearts,  and  we  consider  them  as 
our  paradise,  our  gods,  it  is  delightful,  how- 
ever incapable  we  may  be  of  attending  to  it, 
to  belong  to  a  Lord  who  restrains  and  controls 
us,  because  he  loves  us  ;  and  who  refuses  to 
grant  us  what  we  so  eagerly  desire,  because 
we  would  either  preclude  those  terrible  re- 
grets, which  penitents  feel  after  the  commis- 
sion of  great  sins,  or  those  more  terrible 
torments,  that  are  inseparable  from  final  im- 
penitence. 

Under  a  recollection  of  our  rebellions,  it  is 
delightful  to  belong  to  a  parent,  who  ^ill  re- 
ceive us  favourably  when  we  implore  his 
clemency ;  who  sweetens  the  bitterjiess  of 
our  remorse  ;  who  is  touched  with  our  regrets; 
who  wipes  away  the  tears,  that  the  remem- 
brance of  our  backslidings  makes  us  shed  ; 
who  '  spareth  us,  as  a  man  spareth  his  own 
son  that  serveth  him,'  Mai.  lii.  17. 

In  that  empty  void,  into  which  we  are  of- 
ten conducted,  while  we  seem  to  enjoy  the 
most  solid  establishments,  the  most  exquisite 
pleasures,  and  the  most  brilliant  honours,  it  is 
delightful  to  belong  to  a  patron,  who  reserves 
for  us  objects  far  better  suited  to  our  original 
excellence,  and  to  the  immensity  of  our  de- 
sires. To  live  to  Jesus  Christ  then,  is  tho 
felicity  of  a  Christian. 

But,  if  it  be  a  felicity  to  belong  to  Jesus 
Christ  while  we  live,  it  is  a  felicity  incompa- 
rably greater  to  belong  to  him  when  we  die. 
We  will  conclude  this  meditation  with  this 
article,  and  it  is  an  article,  that  I  would  en- 
deavour above  all  others  to  impress  on  your 
hearts,  and  to  engage  you  to  take  home  to  your 
houses.  But,  unhappily,  the  subject  of  this 
article  is  one  of  those,  which  generally  make* 
the  least  impression  on  the  minds  of  Chris- 
tians.    I  know  a  great  many  Christians,  who 

*  '  Tlie  subject  makea ;  of  '  tUose  subjects  makf. ' 
The  refiiiiieii  of  the  verb  must  be  determined  here  by 
logic  reathr  than  synla.x.  See  Sutcliffe's  Grammar, 
Baldwin's  edition,  page  110. 


aoij 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF 


[Seb.  XXVIII. 


place  their  happinoss  in  living  to  Jesus  Christ: 
but  how  few  have  love  enough  for  him  to  es- 
teem it  a  felicity  to  die  to  him!  Not  only  is 
the  number  of  those  small,  who  experience 
such  a  degree  of  love  to  Christ ;  there  are 
very  few,  who  even  compreliend  what  we 
mean  on  this  subject.  Some  efforts  of  divine 
love  resemble  very  accurate  and  refined  rea- 
sonings. They  ought  naturally  to  be  the  most 
intelligible  to  intelligent  creatures,  and  they 
are  generally  the  least  understood.  Few 
people  are  capable  of  that  attention,  which 
takes  the  mind  from  every  thing  foreign  from 
the  object  in  contemplation,  and  fixes  it  not 
only  on  the  subject,  but  also  on  that  part,  on 
that  point  of  it,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak  so, 
which  is  to  be  investigated  and  explained  ;  so 
that,  by  a  frailty  which  mankind  cannot  suffi- 
ciently deplore,  precision  confuses  our  ideas, 
and  light  itself  makes  a  subject  dark.  In  like 
manner,  there  are  some  efforts  of  divine  love, 
so  detached  from  sense,  so  free  from  all  sensible 
objects,  so  superior  to  even  all  the  means  that 
religion  uses  to  attract  us  to  God,  so  eagerly  as- 
piring afler  a  union  more  close,  more  noble,  and 
more  tender,  that  the  greatest  part  of  Chris- 
tians, as  I  said  before,  are  not  only  incapable 
of  experiencing  them,  but  they  are  also  hard 
to  be  persuaded,  that  there  is  any  reality  in 
what  they  have  been  told  about  them. 

To  be  Jesus  Christ's  in  the  hour  of  death, 
hy  condition,  by  engagement,  and  above  all 
by  inclination,  are  the  only  means  of  dying 
with  delight.  Without  these,  whatever  makes 
our  felicity  while  we  live  will  become  our 
punishment  when  we  die  ;  whether  it  be  a 
criminal  object,  or  an  innocent  object,  or 
even  an  object  which  God  himself  commands 
us  to  love. 

Criminal  objects  will  punish  you.  They 
will  represent  death  as  the  messenger  of  an 
avenging  God,  who  comes  to  drag  you  before 
a  tribunal,  where  the  judge  will  examine  and 
punish  all  your  crimes.  Lawful  objects  will 
distress  you.  Pleasant  fields !  convenient 
houses !  we  must  forsake  you.  Natural  rela- 
tions !  agreeable  companions  !  faithful  friends ! 
we  must  give  you  up.  From  you  our  dear 
cliildren  !  who  kindle  in  our  hearts  a  kind  of 
love,  that  agitates  and  inflames  beings,  when 
nature  seems  to  render  them  incapable  of 
heat  and  motion,  we  must  be  torn  away. 

Religious  6b\ec\,s,  which  we  are  commanded 
above  all  others  to  love,  will  contribute  to 
our  anguish  on  a  dying  bed,  if  they  have  con- 
fined our  love,  and  rendered  us  too  sensible 
to  that  kind  of  happiness,  which  piety  pro- 
cures in  this  world  ;  and  if  tTiey  have  prevent- 
ed our  souls  from  rising  into  a  contemplation 
of  that  blessed  state,  in  which  there  will  be 
no  more  temple,  no  more  sacraments,  no 
more  gross  and  sensible  worship.  The  man 
who  is  too  much  attached  to  these  things,  is 
(lonfoundcd  at  the  hour  of  death.  The  laud  of 
love  to  whicli  he  goes,  is  an  unknown  coun- 
try to  him ;  and  as  the  borders  of  it,  on  which 
he  stands,  and  on  which  alone  his  eyes  are 
fi.xed,  present  only  precipices  to  his  view,  fear 
and  trembling  surround  his  every  step. 

Cut  a  believer,  who  loves  Jesus  Christ  with 
that  kind  of  love,  which  made  St.  Paul  ex- 
claim, '  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us,' 
•>  Cor.  v.  14,  finds  himself  on  the  summit  of 


his  wishes  at  the  approach  of  death.  This 
believer,  living  in  this  world,  resembles  the 
son  of  a  great  king,  whom  some  sad  event 
tore  from  his  royal  parent  in  his  cradle ;  who 
knows  his  parent, only  by  the  fame  of  his 
virtues  ;  who  has  always  a  difficult  and  oflen 
an  intercepted  correspondence  with  his  pa- 
rent ;  whose  remittances  and  favours  from 
his  parent  are  always  diminished  by  the  hands 
through  which  they  come  to  him.  With 
what  transport  would  such  a  son  meet  the  mo- 
ment appointed  bj'  his  father  for  his  return  to 
his  natural  state  ! 

I  belong  to  God  (these  are  the  sentiments 
of  the  believer,  of  whom  lam  speaking),  I 
belong  to  God,  not  only  by  his  sovereign  do- 
minion over  me  as  a  creature ;  not  only 
by  that  right,  which,  as  a  master,  who 
has  redeemed  his  slave,  he  has  acquired  over 
me :  but  I  belong  to  God,  because  I  love  him, 
and  because,  I  know,  God  alone  deserves 
my  highest  esteem.  The  deep  impressions 
that  his  adorable  perfections  have  made  on 
my  mind,  make  me  impatient  with  every  ob- 
ject which  intercepts  my  sight  of  him.  I  could 
not  be  content  to  abide  any  longer  in  this 
world,  were  he  not  to  ordain  my  stay ;  and 
were  I  not  to  consider  his  will  as  the  only 
law  of  my  conduct.  But  the  law,  that  com- 
mands me  to  live,  does  not  forbid  me  to  de- 
sire to  die.  I  consider  deatli  as  the  period 
fixed  for  the  gratifying  of  my  most  ardent 
wishes,  the  consummation  of  my  highest  joy. 
'  Whilst  I  am  at  home  in  the  body,  I  am  ab- 
sent from  the  Lord,'  2  Cor.  v.  6.  But  it 
would  be  incomparably  more  delightfbl '  to  be 
absent  from  the  body,  and  to  be  present  with 
the  Lord,'  ver.  8.  And  what  can  detain  me 
on  earth,  when  God  shall  condescend  to  call 
me  to  himself? 

Not  ye  criminal  objects  !  you  I  never  loved; 
and  although  I  have  sometimes  suffered  mj'- 
selftobe  seduced  by  your  deceitful  appearan- 
ces of  pleasure,  yet  I  have  been  so  severely 
punished  by  the  tears  that  you  have  caused 
me  to  shed,  and  by  the  remorse,  wnich  you 
have  occasioned  my  conscience  to  feel,  that 
tliere  is  no  reason  to  fear  my  putting  you  into 
the  plan  of  my  felicity. 

Nor  shall  ye  detain  me,  lawful  objects !  how 
strong  soever  the  attachments  that  unite  me 
to  you  may  be,  you  are  only  streams  of  hap- 
piness, and  I  am  going  to  the  fountain  of  fe- 
licity. You  are  only  emanations  of  happi- 
ness, and  I  am  going  to  the  happy  God. 

Neither  shall  ye,  religious  objects!  detain 
me.  You  are  only  means,  and  death  is  going 
to  conduct  me  to  the  end,  you  are  only  the 
road ;  to  die  is  to  arrive  at  home.  True,  I 
shall  no  more  read  those  excellent  works,  in 
which  authors  of  the  brightest  genius  have 
raised  the  truth  from  depths  of  darkness  and 
prejudice  in  which  it  had  been  buried,  and 
placed  it  in  the  most  lively  point  of  view.  I 
shall  hear  no  more  of  those  sermons  in  which 
the  preacher,  animated  by  the  holy  Spirit  of 
God,  attempts  to  elevate  me  above  the  pre- 
sent world  :  but  I  shall  hear  and  contemplate 
eternal  wisdom,  and  I  shall  discover  in  my 
commerce  with  it,  the  views,  the  designs, 
tlio  plans  of  my  Creator  ;  and  I  shall  acquire 
more  wisdom  in  one  moment  by  tliis  mean 
than  I  f<hou!d  cvei  obtain  b^'^hcaring  the  best 


Ser.  XXIX  j 


THE  EQUALITY  OP  MANKIND. 


267 


composed  sermons,  and  by  reading  the  best 
written  books.  True,  I  shall  no  more  devote 
jnyself  to  you,  closet  exercises !  holy  medita- 
tions !  aspirings  of  a  soul  in  search  of  its  God  ! 
crying, '  Lord  I  beseech  thee  show  me  thy 
glory  !'  Exod.  xxxiii.  18.  '  Lord  dissipate  the 
dark  thick  cloud  that  conceals  thee  from  my 
sight !  suffer  me  to  approach  that  light,  which 
has  hitherto  been  inaccessible  to  me  !  But 
death  is  the  dissipation  of  clouds  and  dark- 
ness ;  it  is  an  approach  to  perfect  light  ;  it 
takes  me  from  my  closet,  and  presents  me 
like  a  seraph  at  the  foot  of  the  throne  of  God 
and  the  Lamb. 

True,  I  shall  no  more  partake  of  you,  ye 
holy  ordinances  of  religion!  ye  sacred  cere- 
monies !  that  have  conveyed  so  many  conso- 
lations into  my  soul ;  that  have  so  amply  af- 
forded solidity  and  solace  to  the  ties,  which 
united  my  heart  to  my  God;  that  have  so 


often  procured  me  a  heaven  on  earth;  but  I 
quit  you  because  I  am  going  to  receive  im- 
mediate effusions  of  divine  love,  pleasures  at 
God's  right  hand  for  evermore, 'fulness  of  joy 
in  his  presence,'   Ps.   xvi.    11.    I  quit   you 

because     

Alas !  your  hearts  perhaps  have  escaped 
me,  my  brethren  !  perhaps  these  emotions, 
superior  to  your  piety,  are  no  longer  the  sub- 
ject of  your  attention.  I  have,  however,  no 
other  direction  to  give  you,  than  that  which 
may  stand  for  an  abridgment  of  this  dis- 
course, of  all  my  other  preaching,  and  of  my 
whole  ministry  ;  love  God  ;  be  the  Lord's  by 
inclination,  as  you  are  his  by  condition,  and 
by  engagement.  Then  the  miseries  of  this 
life  will  be  tolerable,  and  the  approach  of 
death  delightful.  God  grant  his  blessing  on 
the  word  !  to  him  be  honotu'  and  glory  for 
ever.    Amen. 


SERMON  XXIX. 


THE  EQUALITY  OF  MANKIND. 


Pkoverbs   xxii.  2. 
The  rich  and  the  poor  meet  together ;  the  Lord  is  the  Maker  of  them  all. 


A.MONG  the  various  dispensations  of  Pro- 
vidence which  regard  mankind,  one  of  the 
most  advantageous  in  the  original  design  of 
the  Creator,  and  at  the  same  time  one  of  the 
most  fatal  through  our  abuse  of  it,  is  the 
diversity  of  our  conditions.  How  could  men 
have  formed  one  social  body,  if  all  condi- 
tions had  been  equal .'  Had  all  possessed  the 
same  rank,  the  same  opulence,  the  same  pow- 
er, how  could  they  have  relieved  one  ano- 
ther from  the  inconveniences,  which  would 
have  continually  attended  eacli  of  them  ;  va- 
riety of  conditions  renders  men  necessary  to 
each  other.  The  governor  is  necessary  to 
the  people,  the  people  are  necessary  to  the  go- 
vernor ;  wise  statesmen  are  necessary  to  a 
powerful  soldiery,  a  powerful  soldiery  is  ne- 
cessary to  a  wise  statesman.  A  sense  of  this 
necessity  is  the  strongest  bond  of  union,  and 
this  it  is,  which  inclines  one  to  assist  ano- 
ther in  hopes  of  receiving  assistance  in  his 
turn. 

But  if  this  diversity  be  connected  with  the 
higest  utility  to  mankind  in  the  original  de- 
sign of  the  Creator,  it  is  become,  we  must 
allow,  productive  of  fatal  evils,  through  our 
abuse  of  it.  On  the  one  hand,  they,  whose 
condition  is  the  most  brilliant,  are  dazzled 
with  their  own  brightness  ;  they  study  the 
articles,  whicli  elevate  them  above  their  fel- 
low-creatures, and  they  choose  to  be  igno- 
rant of  every  thing  that  puts  themselves  on 
a  level  with  tliem ;  they  persuade  them- 
selves, that  they  are  beings  incomparable, 
far  more  noble  and  excellent  than  those  vile 
mortals,  on  whom  they  proudly  tread,  and  on 
whom  they  scarcely  deign  to  cast  a  haughty 


eye.  Hence  provoking  arrogance,  cruel  re- 
serve, and  hence  tyranny  and  despotism.  On. 
the  other  hand,  they,  who  are  placed  in  infe- 
rior stations,  prostrate  their  imaginations  be- 
fore these  beings,  whom  they  treat  rather  as 
gods  than  men  ;  them  they  constitute  arbi- 
ters of  right  and  wrong,  true  and  false  ;  they 
forget,  while  they  respect  the  rank  which 
the  Supreme  Governor  of  the  world  has  given 
to  their  superiors,  to  maintain  a  sense  of 
their  own  dignity.  Hence  come  soft  com- 
pliances, base  submissions  of  reason  and  con- 
science, slavery  the  most  willing  and  abject 
to  the  high  demands  of  these  phantoms  of 
grandeur,  these  imaginary  gods. 

To  rectify  these  different  ideas,  to  humble 
the  one  class,  and  to  exalt  the  other,  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  show  men  in  their  true  point  of 
view ;  to  convince  them  that  diversity  of 
condition,  which  God  has  been  pleased  to  es- 
tablish among  them,  is  perfectly  consistent 
with  equality  ;  that  the  splendid  condition  of 
the  first  includes  nothing  that  favours  their 
ideas  of  self-preference  ;  and  that  there  is 
nothing  in  the  low  condition  of  the  last,, 
which  deprives  them  of  their  real  dignity,  or 
debases  their  intelligences  formed  in  the  im- 
age of  God.  I  design  to  discuss  this  sub- 
ject to-day.  The  men,  who  compose  this 
audience,  and  among  whom  Providence  has 
very  unequally  divided  the  blessings  of  this 
life  ;  princes,  who  command,  and  to  whom 
God  himself  has  given  authority  to  com- 
mand subjects ;  subjects,  who  obey,  and  on 
whom  God  has  imposed  obedience  as  a  duty; 
the  rich,  who  give  alms,  and  the  poor,  who 
receive  them  ;  all,  all  my  hearers,  I  am  go- 


Q68 


THE  EQUALITY  OF  MANKLXD. 


[Seb.  XXIX. 


ing  to  reduce  to  their  natural  equality,  and 
to  consider  this  equality  as  a  source  of  piety. 
This  is  the  meaning'  of  the  Wise  JVTan  in 
the  words  of  tlie  text,  '  The  rich  and  the 
poor  meet  together :  the  Lord  is  the  Maker  of 
them  all.' 

Let  us  enter  into  the  matter.  We  suppose 
two  truths,  and  do  not  attempt  to  prove 
Ihem.  First,  that  although  the  Wise  Man 
mentions  here  only  two  different  states,  yet 
he  includes  all.  Under  the  general  notion  of 
yi.ch  and  poor,  we  think  he  comprehends  eve- 
ry tiling,  that  makes  any  sensible  difference 
in  the  conditions  of  mankind  Accordingly, 
it  is  an  incontestable  truth,  that  what  he 
says  of  the  rick  and  poor,  may  be  said  of  the 
nobleman  and  the  plebeian,of  the  master  and 
the  servant.  It  may  be  said,  the  master  and 
the  servant,  the  nobleman  and  the  plebeian 
'  meet  together ;  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of 
them  all;'  and  so  of  the  rest. 

It  is  not  unlikely,  however,  that  Solomon, 
\yhen  he  spoke  of  '  the  rich  and  the  poor,' 
had  a  particular  design  in  choosing  tliis  kind 
of  diversity  of  condition  to  illustrate  his 
meaning  in  preference  to  every  other.  Al- 
though I  can  hardly  conceive,  that  there 
ever  was  a  period  of  time,  in  which  the  love 
of  riches  did  fascinate  the  eyes  of  mankind, 
as  it  does  in  this  age,  yet  it  is  very  credible, 
that  in  Solomon's  time,  as  in  ours,  riches 
made  the  grand  difference  among  men. 
Strictly  speaking,  there  are  now  only  two 
conditions  of  mankind,  that  of  the  rich,  and 
that  of  the  poor.  Riches  decide  all,  yea 
those  qualities,  which  seem  to  have  no  con- 
cern with  them,  I  mean,  mental  qualifica- 
tions. Find  but  the  art  of  amassing  mcmey, 
and  you  will  thereby  find  that  of  uniting  in 
your  own  person  all  the  advantages,  of  which 
mankind  have  entertained  the  highest  ideas. 
How  mean  soever  your  birth  may  have  been, 
you  will  possess  the  art  of  concealing  it,  and 

Jrou  may  form  an  alliance  with  the  most  il- 
ustrious  families;  how  small  soever  your 
knowledge  may  be,  you  may  pass  for  a  supe- 
rior genius,  capable  of  deciding  questions  the 
most  intricate,  points  the  most  abstruse  ;  and, 
what  is  still  more  deplorable,  you  may  pur- 
chase with  silver  and  gold  a  kind  of  honour 
and  virtue,  while  you  remain  the  most  aban- 
doned of  mankind,  at  least,  your  money  will 
attract  that  respect,  which  is  due  to  nothing 
but  honour  and  virtue. 

The  second  truth,  which  we  suppose,  is, 
that  this  proposition,  '  the  Lord  is  the  maker 
of  them  all,'  is  one  of  those  concise,  I  had 
almost  said,  one  of  those  defective  proposi- 
tions, which  a  judicious  auditor  ought  to  fill 
up  in  order  to  give  it  a  proper  meaning. 
This  style  is  very  common  in  our  Scriptures; 
it  is  peculiarly  proper  in  sententious  works, 
such  as  this  out  of  which  we  have  taken  the 
text.  The  design  of  Solomon  is  to  teach  us, 
that  whatever  diversities  of  conditions  there 
may  be  in  society,  the  men  who  compose  it 
are  essentially  equal.  The  reason  that  he  as- 
signs, is,  '  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of  them  all.' 
If  this  idea  be  not  added,  the  proposition 
proves  nothing  at  all.  It  does  not  follow, 
because  the  same  God  is  the  creator  of  two 
beings,  that  there  is  any  resemblance  be- 
tween them,  much  less  that  thev  are  equal. 


Is  not  God  the  creator  of  pure  unembodied 
intelligences,  who  have  faculties  superior  to 
those  of  mankind  .''  Is  not  God  the  author  of 
their  existence  as  well  as  of  ours  .''  Because 
'  God  is  the  creator  of  both,'  does  it  follow 
that  both  are  equal .'  God  is  no  less  the  cre- 
ator of  the  organs  of  an  ant,  than  he  is  the 
creator  of  the  sublime  geniuses  of  a  part  of 
mankind.  Because  God  has  created  an  ant 
and  a  sublime  genius,  does  it  follow,  that 
these  two  beings  are  equal .''  The  meaning 
of  the  words  of  Solomon  depends  then  on 
what  a  prudent  reader  supplies.  We  may 
judge  what  ought  to  be  supplied  by  the  na- 
ture of  the  subject,  and  by  a  parallel  passage 
in  tlie  Book  of  Job.  '  Did  not  he  that  made 
me  in  the  womb,  make  my  servant .'  and  did 
he  not  fashion  us  alike  -"^  chap,  xx.xi.  15.  To 
the  words  of  our  text,  therefore,  '  The  Lord 
is  the  maker  of  them  all,'  we  must  add,  the 
Lord  has  fashioned  them  all  alike.  Nothing 
but  gross  ignorance,  or  wilful  treachery,  can 
incline  an  expositor  to  abuse  this  liberty  of 
making  up  the  sense  of  a  passage,  and  induce 
him  to  conclude,  that  he  may  add  to  a  text 
whatever  may  seem  to  him  the  most  proper 
to  support  a  favourite  opinion,  or  to  cover  aia 
unworthy  passion.  When  we  are  inquisitive 
for  truth,  it  is  easy  to  discover  the  passages 
of  holy  Scripture,  in  which  the  authors  have 
made  use  of  these  concise  imperfect  sen- 
tences. 

Of  this  kind  are  all  passages,  which  excite 
no  distinct  ideas,  or  which  excite  ideas  for- 
eign from  the  scope  of  the  writer,  imless  the 
meaning  be  supplied.  For  example,  we  read 
these  words  in  the  eleventh  chapter  of  St. 
Paul's  Second  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians, 
ver.  4  :  '  If  he  that  cometh  preacheth  ano- 
ther Jesus,  whom  we  have  not  preached,  or 
if  ye  receive  another  spirit,  which  ye  have 
not  received,  or  another  gospel,  which  ye 
have  not  accepted,  ye  might  well  bear  witli 
him.'  If  we  attach  sucli  ideas  to  these  words, 
as  they  seem  at  first  to  excite,  we  shall  take 
them  in  a  sense  quite  opposite  to  the  mean- 
ing of  St.  Paul.  'The  apostle  aimed  to  make 
the  Corintliians  respect  his  ministry,  and  to 
consider  his  apostleship  as  confirmed  of  God 
in  a  manner  as  clear  and  decisive  as  that  of 
any  minister,  who  had  preached  to  them. 
Is  the  proposition,  that  we  have  read,  any 
thing  to  this  purpose,  imless  we  supply  what 
is  not  expressed  .''  But  if  we  supply  what  is 
understood,  and  add  these  words,  but  this  is 
incredible,  or  any  others  equivalent,  we  shall 
perceive  the  force  of  his  reasoning,  which  is 
this  :  If  there  has  been  among  you  any  one, 
whose  preaching  has  revealed  a  redeemer, 
better  adapted  to  your  wants  than  he,  whom 
we  have  preached  to  you  ;  or  if  you  had 
received  more  excellent  gifts  than  those, 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  so  abundantly  diffused 
among  you  by  our  ministry,  you  might  in- 
deed have  preferred  him  before  us;  but  it  is 
not  credible,  that  y  ou  have  had  such  teachers : 
you  ought  then  to  respect  our  ministry. 


*  This  reading  of  the  French  bible  differs  q  little 
from  our  translation :  but  a  comparison  uf  the  two 
translations  with  the  original,  and  with  the  scope 
of  the  place,  will  give  the  pteference  to  the  French 
reading.'  Nonne  disposuit  iios  in  utcro  umis  atquc 
idem."    Vide  I'oli  f^ynons.  in  Inc. 


Seb.  XXIX.j 


THE  EQUALITY  OF  MANKIND. 


2C-9 


I 


We  need  not  make  any  more  remarks  of 
this  kind  :  our  text,  it  is  easy  to  see,  ought 
to  be  classed  with  them,  that  are  imperfect, 
and  must  be  supplied  with  words  to  make  up 
the  sense.  '  The  rich  and  the  poor  meet 
together'  in  four  articles  of  equality  ;  because 
'  the  Lord  hath  made  them  all'  equ aj.  in 
nature,  or  in  essence;  equal  in  privileges  ; 
equal  in  appointment ;  equal  in  their  last  end. 
The  Lord  has  made  them  equal  in  nature  ; 
they  have  the  same  faculties,  and  the  same 
infirmities  :  equal  in  privileges,  for  both  are 
capable  by  the  excellence  of  their  nature, 
and  more  still  by  that  of  their  relij^'ion,  to 
form  the  noblest  designs:  equal  in  designa- 
tion ;  for  although  the  rich  differ  from  the 
poor  in  their  condition,  yet  both  are  intended 
to  answer  the  great  purposes  of  God  with 
regard  to  human  nature  :  finally,  they  are 
equal  in  their  last  end ;  the  same  sentence 
of  death  is  passed  on  both,  and  both  alike 
must  submit  to  it.  '  The  rich  and  the  poor 
meet  together  ;  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of 
them  all.'  Thus  the  text  affords  us  four 
truths  worthy  of  our  most  serious  attention. 

The  first  article  of  equality,  in  which  men 
'  meet  together,'  is  an  equality  o?  essence,  or 
of  nature  ;  the  Lord  has  made  them  all  with 
the  same  faculties,  and  with  the  same  infir- 
mities. 

1.  With  the  same  faculties.  What  is  man  ? 
He  consists  of  a  body,  and  a  soul  united  to  a 
body.  This  definition,  or  rather,  if  you  will, 
this  description,  agrees  to  all  mankind,  to  tiie 
great  as  well  as  to  the  small,  to  the  rich  as 
well  as  to  the  poor.  The  soul  of  the  poor 
lias  the  same  power  as  that  of  tJie  rich,  to 
lay  down  principles,  to  infer  consequences, 
to  distinguish  truth  from  falseliood,  to  choose 
good  or  evil,  to  examine  Vi'hat  is  most  advan- 
tageous, and  most  glorious  to  it.  The  body 
of  the  poor,  as  well  as  that  of  the  rich,  dis- 
plays the  wisdom  of  him,  who  formed  it ;  it 
has  a  symmetry  in  its  parts,  an  exactness  in 
its  motions,  and  a  proportion  to  its  secret 
springs.  The  laws,  that  unite  the  body  of 
the  poor  to  his  soul  are  the  same  as  tiiose, 
rvhich  unite  these  two  beings  in  the  rich; 
there  is  the  same  connexion  between  the  two 
parts,  that  constitute  the  essence  of  the  man  ; 
a  similar  motion  of  the  body  produces  a  simi- 
lar thought  in  the  mind,  a  similar  idea  of  the 
mind,  or  a  similar  emotion  of  the  heart,  pro- 
duces a  similar  motion  of  the  body.  This  is 
jnan.  These  are  the  faculties  of  men.  Di- 
versity of  condition  makes  no  alteration  in 
tliese  faculties 

9.  '  The  Lord  hath  made  them  all'  with  the 
same  infirmities.  Thoy  have  the  same  infir- 
mities of  body.  The  body  of  the  rich,  as  well 
as  that  of  the  poor,  is  a  common  receptacle, 
where  a  thousand  impurities  meet ;  it  is  a 
general  rendezvous  of  pains  and  sicknesses  ; 
it  is  a  house  of  clay,  '  whose  foundation  is  in 
the  dust,  and  is  crushed  before  the  moth,' 
Job  iv.  10. 

They  have  the  same  mental  infirmities. 
The  mind  of  tlie  rich,  like  that  of  the  poor, 
is  incapable  of  satisfying  itself  on  a  thousand 
desirable  questions.  The  mind  of  the  rich, 
as  well  as  that  of  the  poor,  is  prevented  by 
its  natural  ignorance,  when  it  would  expand 
itself  in  contemplation,  and  explain  a  num- 

2  M 


ber  of  obvious  phenomena.  The  soul  of  the 
rich,  like  tliat  of  the  poor,  is  subject  to  doubt, 
uncertainty,  and  ignorance,  and,  what  is 
more  mortifying  still,  the  heart  of  the  rich, 
like  the  poor  man's  heart,  is  subject  to  the 
same  passions,  to  envy,  and  to  anger,  and  to 
all  the  disorder  of  sin. 

They  have  the  same  frailties  in  the  laws 
that  unite  the  soul  to  the  body.  The  soul 
of  the  rich,  like  the  soul  of  the  poor,  is  united 
to  a  body,  or  rather  enslaved  by  it.  The 
soul  of  the  rich,  like  that  of  the  poor,  is  in- 
terrupted in  its  most  profound  meditations 
by  a  single  ray  of  light,  by  the  buzzing  of  a 
fly,  or  by  the  touch  of  an  atom  of  dust.  The 
ricli  man's  faculties  of  reasoning  and  of  self- 
determining  are  suspended,  and  in  some  sort 
vanished  and  absorbed,  like  those  of  the  poor, 
on  the  slightest  alteration  of  the  senses,  and 
this  alteration  of  the  senses  happens  to  him, 
as  well  as  to  the  poor,  at  the  approach  of  cer- 
tain objects.  David's  reason  is  suspended 
at  the  sight  of  Bathsheba  ;  David  no  longer 
distinguishes  good  from  evil ;  David  forgets 
the  purity  of  the  laws,  which  he  himself  had 
so  highly  celebrated  ;  and,  at  the  sight  of 
this  object,  his  whole  system  of  piety  is  refut- 
ed, his  whole  edifice  of  religion  sinks  and  dis- 
appears. 

The  second  point  of  equality,  in  which  the 
'  rich  and  the  poor  meet  together,'  is  in  equali- 
ty of  privileges.  To  aspire  at  certain  emi- 
nences, when  Providence  has  pl.iced  us  in 
inferior  stations  in  society,  is  egregious  folly. 
If  a  man,  wlio  has  only  ordinary  talents,  only 
a  common  genius,  pretends  to  acquire  an  im- 
mortal reputation  among  heroes,  and  to  fill 
the  world  with  his  name  and  exploits,  he  acts 
fancifully  and  wildly.  If  he,  who  was  born  a 
subject,  rashly  and  ambitiously  attempts  to 
ascend  the  tribunal  of  a  magistrate,  or  the 
throne  of  a  king,  and  to  aim  at  governing, 
when  he  is  called  to  obey,  he  is  guilty  of  re- 
bellion. But  this  law,  which  forbids  infe- 
riors to  arrogate  to  themselves  some  privi- 
leges, does  not  prohibit  them  from  aspirinu" 
at  others,  incomparably  more  great  and  glo- 
rious 

Let  us  discover,  if  it  be  pos.sible,  the  most 
miserable  man  in  this  assembly ;  let  us  dissi- 
pate the  darkness  tiiat  covers  him  ;  let  us 
raise  him  from  that  kind  of  grave,  in  whicii 
his  indigence  and  meanness  conceal  him. 
This  man,  unknown  to  the  rest  of  mankind  ; 
this  man,  who  seems  hardly  formed  by  the 
Creator  into  an  intelligent  existence  ;  this 
man  has,  however,  the  greatest  and  most 
glorious  privileges.  This  man,  being  recon- 
oilcid  to  God  by  religion,  has  a  right  to  aspire 
to  the  most  noble  and  sublime  objects  of  it. 
He  has  a  right  to  elevate  his  soul  to  God  in 
ardent  prayer,  and,  without  the  hazard  of 
being  taxed  with  vanity,  he  may  assure  him- 
self, "that  God,  the  Great  God",  encircled  in 
glory,  and  surrounded  with  the  praises  of  the 
blessed:  will  behold  him,  hear  his  prayer, 
and  grant  his  request.  This  man  has  a  right 
to  say  to  himself,  the  attention,  that  the 
Lord  of  nature  gives  to  the  government  of 
the  universe,  to  the  wants  of  mankind,  to  the 
innumerable  company  of  angels,  and  to  his 
own  felicity,  does  not  prevent  this  adorable 
being  from  attending  to  me  ;  from  occupying 


S?70 


*rHE  EQUALITY  OF  MANKIND. 


[Akr.  xxrx. 


himself  about  my  person,  my  children,  my 
family,  my  house,  my  health,  my  substance, 
m}'  salvation,  my  most  minute  concern,  even 
a  single  '  hair  of  my  head,'  Luke  xxi.  18. 
This  man  has  a  rig^ht  of  addressing  God  oy 
names  the  most  lender  iind  mild,  yea,  if  I 
may  venture  to  speak  so,  by  tliose  most  fami- 
liar names,  which  equals  give  each  other; 
he  may  call  him  his  God,  his  master,  his  fa- 
ther, his  friend.  Believers  liave  addressed 
God  by  each  of  these  names,  and  God  has 
not  only  permitted  them  to  do  so,  he  has 
even  expressed  his  approbation  of  their  tak-  ] 
ing  these  names  in  their  mouths.  Tliis  man 
has  a  right  of  coming  to  eat  with  God  at  the 
Lord's  table,  and  to  live,  if  I  may  be  allowed 
to  speak  so,  to  live  with  God,  as  a  man  lives 
with  his  friend.  This  man  has  a  right  to 
apply  to  himself  whatever  is  most  great,  most 
comfortable,  most  ecstatic  in  the  mysteries 
of  redemption,  and  to  say  to  himself;  for  me 
the  divine  intelligence  revolved  the  plan  of 
redemption  ;  for  me  the  Son  of  God  was  ap- 
pointed before  the  foundation  of  the  world  to 
be  a  propitiatory  sacrifice  ;  for  me  in  the  ful- 
ness of  time  he  took  mortal  flesh  ;  for  me  he 
lived  several  years  among  men  in  this  world  ; 
for  me  he  pledged  himsolf  to  the  justice  of 
liis  Father,  and  suffered  sucli  unparalleled 
punishment,  as  conlounds  reason  and  sur- 
passes imagination  ;  for  nie  the  Holy  Spirit 
•  shook  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  the 
sea,  and  the  dry  laud,'  Hag.  ii  (i,  and  esta- 
blished a  ministry,  which  he  confirmed  by 
healing  the  sick,  bv  raising  the  dead,  by  cast- 
ing out  devils,  and  by  subverting  the  whole 
order  of  nature.  This  man  has  a  right  to 
aspire  to  the  felicity  of  the  inunortal  (i-od, 
to  the  glory  of  the  immortal  God,  to  the 
throne  of  the  immortal  God.  Arrived  attlie 
fatal  hour,  lying  on  his  drying  bed,  reduced 
to  the  sight  of  useless  friends,  ineffectual 
lemedies,  unavailing  tears,  he  has  a  right  to 
triumph  over  death,  and  to  defy  his  disturb- 
ing in  the  smallest  degree  tiie  tranquil  calm, 
that  his  soul  enjoys  ;  he  has  a  right  to  sum- 
mon the  gates  of  heaven  to  admit  his  soul, 
and  to  say  to  them, '  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye 
gates!  even  lift  them  up,ye  everlastingdoors  !' 
These  are  the  incontestable  privileges  of 
the  man,  who  appears  to  us  so  contemptible. 
I  ask,  my  brethren,  have  the  nobles  of  tJie 
earth  any  privileges  more  glorious  than  these.'' 
Do  the  train  of  attendants,  which  follows 
them,  the  horses  that  draw  them,  the  gran- 
dees, wlio  surround  them,  the  superb  titles, 
which  command  exterior  homage,  give  them 
any  real  snperiority  over  the  man,  who  en- 
joys those  priviieaes,  which  we  have  briefly 
enumerated.'  Ah!  my  brethren,  nothing 
proves  the  littleness  of  great  men  more  than 
the  impression,  which  the  exterior  advaii- 
fages,  that  distinguish  them  from  tlie  rest  of 
mankind,  make  on  their  minds.  Are  you 
aware  of  what  you  are  doing,  when  you  de- 
spise them  whom  Providen(^e  places  for  a  few 
years  in  a  station  inferior  to  your  own  .'  You 
are  despising  and  degrading  yourselves,  you 
are  renouncing  your  real  greatness,  and,  liy 
valuing  yourselves  for  a  kind  of  foreign  glory, 
j-ou  discover  a  conteiiipt  for  that,  which  con- 
stitutes the  real  dignity  of  your  nature.  The 
glory  of  man  does  not  consist  in  his  beino-  a 


master,  or  a  rich  man,  a  nobleman,  or  a  king  ; 
it  consists  in  his  being  a  man,  in  his  being 
formed  in  the  image  of  his  Creator,  and  capa- 
ble of  all  the  elevation,  that  we  have  been 
describing.  If  you  contemn  your  inferiors 
in  society,  you  plainly  declare,  that  you  are 
insensible  to  your  real  dignity  ;  for,  had  you 
derived  your  ideas  of  real  greatness  from 
their  true  source,  you  would  have  respected 
it  in  persons,  who  appear  the  most  mean  and 
despicable.  '  The  ricli  and  the  poor  meet 
together ;'  the  Lord  has  endowed  them  all 
with  the  same  privileges.  They  all  meet 
toffithcr  nn  the  same  line  of  eqnality  in  re- 
irard  to  their  claims  of  privileges.  This  was 
the  point  to  be  proved. 

We  add,  in  the  third  place,  '  The  rich  and 
the  poor  meet  together'  in  an  equality  of  rfc.«- 
linati.mi.  Rich  and  poor  are  placed  by  Pro- 
vidence in  different  ranks,  I  grant :  but  their 
difierent  stntions  are  fixed  with  the  same 
design,  I  mean  to  accomplish  the  purposes  of 
God  in  regard  to  men. 

What  are  the  designs  of  God  in  regard  to 
men  .■'  What  end  does  he  propose  to  effect  by 
placing  us  on  this  planet  thirty,  forty,  or  six- 
ty years,  before  he  rleclnrcs  our  eternal  state  ? 
W'e  jiave  frequently  answered  this  impor- 
tant question.  God  has  placed  us  hero  in  a 
state  of  probation :  he  has  set  before  our 
eyes  supreme  felicityand  intolerable  misery; 
he  has  pointed  out  the  vices,  that  conduct  to 
the  last,  and  the  virtues  necessary  to  arrive 
at  the  first,  and  he  has  declared,  that  our 
conduct  shall  determine  our  future  state. 
This,  I  think,  is  the  design  of  God  in  regard 
to  men.  This  is  the  notion  that  we  ought  to 
form,  of  the  end  which  God  proposes  in  fix- 
ing us  a  few  years  upon  earth,  and  in  placing 
us  among  our  fellow  creatures  in  society. 

On  this  principle,  which  is  the  most  glo- 
rious condition  ^  It  is  neither  that  which 
elevates  us  higliest  in  society,  nor  that  which 
procures  us  the  greatest  conveniences  of  life. 
If  it  be  not  absolutely  indifferent  to  men,  to 
whom  it  is  uncertain  whether  they  shall  quit 
the  present  world  the  next  moment,  or  con- 
tinue almost  a  century  in  it  ;  I  say,  if  it  be 
not  absolutely  indifferent  to  them,  whether 
they  be  high  or  low,  rich  or  poor,  it  would  be 
contrary  to  all  tiie  laws  of  prudence,  were 
they  to  determine  their  choice  of  a  condition 
by  considerations  of  this  kind  alone.  A  crea- 
ture capalile  of  eternal  felicity  ought  to  con- 
sider that  the  most  glorious  condition,  which 
is  tlie  most  likely  to  procure  him  the  eternal 
felicity,  of  which  he  is  capable.  Were  a 
wise  man  to  choose  a  condition,  he  would 
certainly  prefer  that,  in  which  he  could  do 
most  <Tood  ;  ho  would  alwa3's  consider  that  as 
tlie  most  glorious  st.ation  for  himself,  in 
which  he  could  best  answer  the  great  end 
for  wiiich  his  Creator  placed  him  in  this 
world.  It  is  glorious  to  be  at  the  head  of  a 
nation ;  but  if  I  could  do  more  good  in  a 
mean  station  thnn  I  could  do  in  an  eminent 
post,  the  meanest  station  would  be  far  more 
glorious  to  me  than  the  most  eminent  post. 
Why.'  because  that  is  most  glorious  to  me, 
which  best  answers  the  end  that  my  Creator 
proposed  in  placing  me  in  this  world.  God 
placed  me  in  this  world  to  enable  me  to  do 
good,  and  prepare  myself  by  a  holy  life  for  a 


Ser.  XXIX.J 


THE  EQUALITY  OF  MANKIND 


271 


happy  eternity.     To  do  good  at  the  head  of  a 
nation,  certain  talents  are  necessary.     If  I 
liave  not  these  talents,  not  only  I  should  not 
do  good  in  this  post,  but  I  should  certainly 
do  evil.     I  should  expose  my  country  to  dan- 
ger, I  should  sink  its  credit,  obscure  its  glo- 
ry, and  debase  its  dignity.     It  is,  therefore, 
hicomparably  less  glorious   for  me  to  be  at 
the  head  of  a  state  than  to  occupy  a  post  less 
eminent.     It   is  glorious  to   fill  the  highest 
office  in  the  church,  to  announce  the  oracles 
of  God,  to  develope  the  mysteries  of  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  and  to  direct  wandering  soiiis 
to  the  road,  that  leads  to  the  sovereign  good  ; 
but  if  I  be  destitute  of  gifts  essential  to  the 
filling   of  this  office,  it  is  incomparably  more 
g'lorious  to  mo  to  remain  a  pupil  than  to  com- 
mence a  tutor.     Why  ^    Because  that  station 
is  the  most   eligible  to  me,    which    best  em- 
powers mo  to  answer  the  end  for  which  my 
Creator  placed  me  in  this  world.  My  Creator 
placed  me  in  this  world,  that  I  might  do  good, 
and  that  by  a  holy  life  I  might  prepare  for  a 
happy  eternity.     In  or.ier  to  do  good  in  the 
highest  offices   in    the  church  great   talents 
are    necessary  ;    if  God   has   not   bestowed 
great  talents  on  me,  I  should  not  only  not  do 
good  :  but  I  should  do  harm.     Instead  of  an- 
nouncing the  oracles  of  God  I  should  preach 
the  traditions  of  men;    I  should  involve  the 
mysteries  of  religion    m  darkness  instead  of 
developing  them  ;  I  should  plunge  poor  mor- 
tals into  an  abyss  of  misery,  instead  of  point- 
ing out  the  road,  which  would  conduct  them 
to  a  blessed  immortality.     But  by  remaining 
in  the  state  of  a  disciple  I  may  obtain  atten- 
tion, docility,  and  love  to  truth,  which   are 
the  virtues  of  my  condition.     It  is  more  glo- 
rious to  bo  a  good  subject  than  a  bad  king  ; 
it  is  more  glorious  to  be  a  good  disciple  than 
a  bad  teacher. 

But  most  men  have  false  ideas  of  glory, 
and  we  form  our  notions  of  it  from  the  opi- 
nions of  these  unjust  appraisers  of  men  and 
things.  That  wliich  elevates  us  in  their 
eyes,  seems  glorious  to  us  ;  and  we  esteem 
that  contemptible,  which  abases  us  before 
them.  We  discover,  I  know  not  what,  mean- 
ness in  mechanical  employments,  and  the 
contempt  that  we  have  for  the  employ,  ex- 
tends itself  to  him,  who  follows  it,  und  thus 
we  habituate  ourselves  to  despise  them,  whom 
God  honours.  Let  us  undeceive  ourselves, 
iny  brethren  ;  there  is  no  condition  shame- 
ful, except  it  necessarily  leads  us  to  some  in- 
fraction of  the  laws  of  our  Supreme  Law- 
giver, '  who  is  able  to  save  and  to  destroy,' 
James  iv.  12.  Strictly  speaking,  one  condi- 
tion of  life  is  no  more  honourable  than  ano- 
ther. There  are,  I  grant,  some  stations,  in 
which  the  objects  that  employ  those  who  fill 
them,  are  naturally  more  noble  than  those  of 
other  stations.  The  condition  of  a  magistrate, 
wliose  employment  is  to  improve  and  to  enforce 
maxims  of  government,  has  a  nobler  object 
than  that  of  a  mechanic,  whose  business  it  is 
to  improve  the  least  necessary  art.  There 
is  a  nobler  object  in  the  station  of  a  pastor 
called  to  publish  the  laws  of  religion,  than  in 
tiiat  of  a  schoolmaster  confined  to  teach  the 
letters  of  the  alphabet.  But  God  will  re 
gnlate  our  eternal  state  not  according  to  the 
object  of  our  pursuit,  but  according   to  the 


manner   in   which  we  should  iiave  pursued 
it. 

In  this  point  of  light,  all  ranks  are  equal, 
every  condition  is  the  same.  Mankind  have 
then  an  equality  of  destiiiation.  The  rich 
and  the  poor  are  placed  in  different  ranks 
with  the  same  view,  both  are  to  answer  the 
great  end,  that  God  haS' proposed  to  answer 
by  creating  and  arranging  mankind. 

Hitherto  we  have  had  occasion  for  some 
little  labour  to  prove  our  thesis,  that  all  men 
are  equal,  notwithstanding  the  various  con- 
ditions in  which  God  has  placed  them.  And 
you,  my  brethren,  have  had  occasion  for  some 
docility  to  feel  the  force  of  our  arguments. 
But  in  our  fourth  article  the  truth  will  es- 
tablish itself,  and  its  force  will  be  felt  by  a 
recital,  vea,  bv  a  hint  of  our  arguments. 

We  said,  fourthly,  that  men  are  equal  m 
their  last  end,  that  the  same  sentence  of 
death  is  denounced  on  all,  and  that  they  must 
all  alike  submit  to  their  fate.  On  which 
side  can  we  view  death,  and  not  receive  abun- 
dant evidence  of  this  truth  ?  Consider  the 
certainty  of  death  ;  the  nearness  of  death  ; 
the  harbingers  of  death;  the  ravages  of 
death ;  so  many  sides  by  which  death  may  be 
considered,  so  many  proofs,  so  many  demon- 
strations, so  many  sources  of  demonstrations 
of  the  truth  of  "this  sense  of  my  text, '  the 
rich  and  poor  meet  together ;  the  Lord  is  the 
maker  of  them  all.' 

1.  Remark  the  certainty  of  death:  '  Dusi 
thou  art,  and  unto  dust  shalt  thou  return, 
Gen.  iii.  19.  'It  is  appointed  unto  men 
once  to  die,'  Heb.  ix.  27.  The  sentence  is 
universal,  its  universality  involves  all  the 
posterity  of  Adam  ;  it  includes  all  conditions, 
all  professions,  all  stations,  and  every  step  ot 
life  ensures  the  execution  of  it. 

Whither  art  thou  going,  rich  man  !  thou, 
who  congra'tulatest  thyself  because  thy  '  fields 
bring  forth  plentifully,'  and  who  says  to  thy 
soul, '  Soul !  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up 
for  many  years  ;  take  thine  ease,  eat,  drink, 
and  be  merry  .''  To  death.  Whither  art  thou 
going,  poor  man !  thou,  who  art  toiling 
through  a  languishing  hfe,  who  beggest  thy 
bread'Trom  door  to  door,  who  art  continually 
j)erplexed  in  finding  out  means  of  procuring 
bread  to  eat,  and  raiment  to  put  on,  always  an 
object  of  the  charity  of  some,  and  of  t''.® 
hard -heartedness  of  others.?  To  death.  Whi- 
ther goest  thou,  nobleman  !  thou,  who  deck- 
est  thyself  with  borrowed  plumes,  who  put- 
test  the  renown  of  thine  ancestors  into  the 
list  of  thy  virtues,  and  who  thinkest  thyself^ 
formed  of  an  earth  more  refined  than  that  ot 
the  rest  of  mankind  ?  To  death.  Whither 
goest  thou,  peasant!  thou  wlio  deridest  the 
folly  of  a  peer,  and  at  the  same  time  valucst 
thyself  on  something  equally  absurd.'  lo 
death.  Whither,  soldier !  art  thou  marching, 
thou,  who  talkest  of  nothing  but  glory  and 
heroism,  and  who  ainid  many  voices  sound- 
ing in  thine  ears,  and  incessantly  crying, 
'  Remember,  thou  art  mortal,'  art  dreammg 
of,  I  know  not  what,  immortality  .'  To  death. 
Whither  art  thou  going,  merchant!  thou, 
who  brcathest  nothing  but  the  increase  of 
thy  fortune,  and  who  judgost  of  the  hap- 
piness or  misery  of  thy  days,  not  by  thino 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  and  thy  practice  of 


272 


THE  EQUALIIT  OF  MANKIND. 


[tiER.  XXIX. 


virtue :  tut  Ly  tbe  gain  or  tlie  loss  of  thy 
wealth  ?  To  death.  Whither  tire  we  all 
gtiing',  my  dear  hearers .''  To  death.  Do  1 
c-xceed  the  truth,  my  brethren  .-'  Does  death 
l-ogard  titles,  dignities,  and  riches  ?  Where  is 
Alexander  ?  Where  is  Cesar  ?  Where  are  all 
they,  whose  names  struck  terror  through  the 
whole  world  .''  They  were :  but  they  are  no 
more.  They  fell  before  the  voice  that  cried, 
'  Return,  ye  children  of  men,'  Ps.  xc.  3.  '  I 
said,  ye  are  gods :  but  j-e  shall  die  like  men,' 
Pe.  Ixxxii.  C.  '  I  said,  ye  are  gods  ;'  this  ye 
great  men  of  the  earth  !  this  i?  your  title  ; 
this  is  the  patent  that  creates  your  dignity, 
that  subjects  us  to  your  commands,  and 
Ceaches  us  to  revere  your  characters  :  '  but 
ye  shall  die  like  men ;'  tliis  is  the  decree, 
that  def;;Tades  you,  and  puts  you  on  a  level 
with  us.  '  Ye  are  gods  ;'  I  will  tlien  respect 
your  authority,  and  consider  you  as  images 
of  him,  '  by  whom  kings  reign:  but  ye  shall 
die  ;'  I  will  not  then  suffer  myself  to  be  im- 
posed on  by  your  grandeur,  and  whatever 
homage  I  may  yield  to  my  king,  I  will  always 
remember,  that  he  is  a  man.  The  certainty 
of  death  is  the  first  side,  on  which  we  may 
consider  this  murderer  of  mankind,  and  it  is 
the  first  proof  of  our  fourtii  proposition  :  man- 
kind are  equal  in  their  last  end. 

2.  The  proxiviity  of  death  is  a  second  de 
jnonstration,  a  second  source  of  demonstra- 
tions. The  limits  of  our  lives  are  equal. 
The  life  of  the  rich  as  well  as  that  of  the 
jjoor  is  '  reduced  to  a  handbreadth,'  Ps.  xxxix. 
5.  Sixty,  eighty,  or  a  hundred  years,  is  usual- 
ly the  date  of  a  long  life.  The  sceptre  has 
no  more  privilege  in  this  respect  than  the 
oj-ook  •  nor  is  the  palace  at  any  greater 
distance  from  the  tomb  than  the  cottage  from 
the  grave.  Heaps  of  silver  and  gold  may  in- 
tercept the  rich  man's  sight  of  death  :  but 
they  can  neither  intercept  death's  sight  of 
the  rich  man,  nor  prevent  his  forcing  the  fee- 
ble intrenchments,  in  which  he  may  attempt 
to  hide  himself 

3.  The  harbingers  of  death  are  a  third  de- 
monstration, a  third  source  of  demonstrations. 
The  rich  have  the  same  forerunners  as  the 
poor ;  both  have  similar  dying  agonies,  vio- 
lent sicknesses,  disgustful  medicines,  intole- 
rable pains,  and  cruel  misgivings.  Pass 
through  those  superb  apartments  in  which 
the  rich  man  seems  to  del'y  the  enemy,  who 
lurks  and  threatens  to  seize  him  ;  go  through 
the  crowd  of  domestics  who  surround  him; 
cast  your  eyes  on  the  bed  where  nature  and 
art  have  contributed  to  his  ease.  In  this 
g-rand  edifice,  amidst  this  assembly  ol  cour- 
tiers, or,  shall  1  rather  say,  amidst  this  troop 
«f  vile  slaves, you  will  find  a  most  mortifying 
and  miserable  object.  You  will  see  a  visage 
all  pale,  livid,  distorted  ;  you  will  hear  the 
shrieks  of  a  wretch  tormented  with  the  gra- 
vel, or  the  gout ;  you  will  see  a  soul  terrified 
with  the  fear  of  those  eternal  bo<  ks,  which 
are  about  to  be  opened,  of  that  iormidable 
tribunal,  which  is  already  erected,  of  the 
awful  sentence,  that  is  about  to  be  denoun- 
ced. 

4.  The  ravages  of  death  make  a  fourth  de- 
inoustration  ;  they  are  the  same  with  the 
rich  as  with  the  poor.  Deatli  alike  condemns 
their  eyes  to  impenetrable  night,  their  tongue 


to  eternal  silence,  their  wliole  system  to  total 
destruction.  I  see  u,  superb  monument.  I 
approach  this  striking  object.  I  see  magni- 
cent  inscriptions.  I  read  the  pompous  titles 
of  the  viosl  noble,  the  most  puissant,  general, 
prince,  monarch,  arbiter  of  peace,  arbiter  of 
war.  I  long  to  see  the  inside  of  this  elegant 
piece  of  workmanship,  and  I  peep  under  the 
stone,  that  covers  him  to  whom  all  this  pomp 
is  consecrated  ;  there  I  find,  w'hat .'  .  .  .  a 
putrefied  carcass  devouring  by  worms.  O 
vanity  of  human  grandeur  I  '  Vanity  of  vani- 
ties, all  is  vanity  !  Put  not  your  trust  in  prin- 
ces, nor  in  the  son  of  man,  in  whom  is  no 
help,'  Eccl.  i.  2.  '  His  breath  goeth  forth,  he 
returneth  to  his  earth,  in  that  very  day  his 
thoughts  perish.'  Ps.  cxlvi.  3,  4.  '  As  for  man, 
his  days  are  as  grass;  as  a  flower  of  the 
field  so  he  flourisheth  ;  for  the  wind  passeth 
over  it,  and  it  is  gone  ;  and  the  place  thereof 
shall  know  it  no  more,'  Ps.  ciii.  15.  16. 

5.  Finally,  the  judgment,  that  follows 
death,  carries  our  proposition  to  the  highest 
degree  of  evidence.  '  It  is  appointed  unto 
men  once  to  die  :  but  after  this  the  judgment,' 
Heb.  ix.  27.  The  rich  and  the  poor  must 
alike  appear  before  that  throne,  which  St. 
John  describes  in  the  Revelation,  and  be- 
fore that  venerable  personage,  '  from  whose 
face  the  heaven  and  the  earth  flee  away,' 
chap.  XX.  11.  If  there  be  any  difference  be- 
tween the  rich  and  the  poor,  it  is  all,  I  think, 
in  favour  of  the  latter.  The  summons,  that 
must  be  one  day  addressed  to  each  of  us, 
'  give  an  account  of  thy  stewardship,'  Luke 
xvi.  2,  this  sununons  is  always  terrible.  You 
indigent  people  !  whom  God  (to  use  the  lan- 
guage of  Scripture)  has  '  set  over  a  few 
things,'  an  account  of  these  '  few  things'  will 
be  required  of  you,  and  you  will  be  as  surely 
punished  for  hiding  '  one  talent,'  as  if  you  had 
hidden  more.  Matt.  xxv.  17. 

But  how  terrible  to  me  seems  the  account 
that  must  be  given  of  a  great  number  of  ta- 
lents !  If  the  rich  man  have  some  advantages 
over  the  poor,  (and  who  can  doubt  that  he 
has  many  ?)  how  are  his  advantages  counter- 
poised by  the  thought  of  the  consequences  of 
death!  What  a  summons,  my  brethren!  is 
this  for  a  great  man,  '  Give  an  account  of  thy 
stewardship!'  give  an  account  of  thy  rj'fAe.^. 
Didst  thou  acquire  them  lawfully  }  or  worn 
they  the  produce  of  unjust  dealings,  of  cruel 
extortions,  of  repeated  frauds,  of  violated  pro- 
mises, of  perjuries  and  oaths.'  Didst  thou  dis- 
tribute them  charitably,  compassionately,  lib- 
erally .'  or  didst  thou  reserve  tliem  avari- 
ciously, meanly,  barbarously  ?  Didst  thou 
employ  them  to  found  hospitals,  to  procuvd 
instruction  for  the  ignorant,  relief  for  the 
sick,  consolations  for  the  afilicted  ?  or  didst 
thou  employ  them  to  cherish  thy  pride,  to  dis- 
play thy  vanity,  to  immortalize  thine  ambi- 
tion and  arrogance  .''  Give  an  account  of  thy 
reputation.  Didst  thou  employ  it  to  relievo 
the  oppressed,  to  protect  the  widow  and  or- 
phan, to  maintain  justice,  to  diffuse  truth,  to 
propagate  religion  .■'  or,  on  the  contrary,  didst 
thou  use  it  to  degrade  others,  to  deify  thy  pas- 
sions, to  render  thyself  a  scourge  to  society, 
a  plague  to  mankind.'  Give  an  account  of 
thine  honours.  Didst  thou  direct  them  to 
tlicir  true   end,  bv  contributing  all  in  thr 


b'KK.   XXIX.] 


THE  EQUALITY  OF  MANKIJS1> 


27i 


power  to  the  good  of  society,  to  the  defence 
of  thy  country,  to  the  prosperity  of  trade,  to 
the  advantage  of  the  public  ?  or,  didst  thou 
direct  them  only  to  thine  own  private  inter- 
est, to  the  establishment  of  tliy  fortune,  to 
the  elevation  of  thy  family,  to  tliat  insatiable 
avidity  of  glory,  which  gnawed  and  devoured 
thee  .•'  Ah !  my  brethren  !  if  we  enter  very 
seriously  into  these  reflections,  we  shall  not 
he  60  much  struck,  as  we  usually  are,  with 
the  diversity  of  men's  conditions  in  this  life  ; 
we  shall  not  aspire  very  eagerly  after  the 
highest  ranks  in  this  world-  '  The  rich  and 
poor  meet  together,  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of 
them  all ;  that  is  to  say,  he  has  made  them 
equal  in  their  nature,  in  their  privileges, 
equal  in  their  destination,  and  equal,  as  we 
have  proved,  in  ther  last  end. 

The  inferences  that  we  intend  to  draw 
from  what  we  have  said,  are  not  inferences  of 
sedition  an  anarchy.  We  do  not  mean  to  dis- 
turb the  order  of  society  ;  nor,  by  affirming 
that  all  men  have  an  essential  equality,  to 
reprobate  that  subordination,  without  which 
society  would  be  nothing  but  confusion,  and 
the  men,  who  compose  it,  a  lawless  banditti. 
We  affirm,  that  the  subject  and  the  prince, 
the  master  and  the  servant,  are  truly  and  pro- 
perly equal :  but  far  be  it  from  us  to  infer, 
that  therefore  the  subject  should  withdraw  his 
submission  from  his  prince,  or  the  servant  di- 
minish his  obedience  to  his  master.  On  the 
contrary,  subjects  and  servants  would  re- 
nounce all  that  is  glorious  in  their  conditions, 
if  they  entertained  such  wild  ideas  in  their 
minds.  That,  which  equals  them  to  the  su- 
periors, whom  Providence  has  set  over  them, 
is  the  belief  of  their  being  capable,  as  well  as 
tiieir  superiors,  of  an.swering  the  end  that 
God  proposed  in  creating  mankind.  They 
■would  counteract  this  end,  were  they  to  re- 
fuse to  discharge  those  duties  of  their  condi- 
tion to  which  Providence  calls  them. 

Nor  would  we  derive  from  the  truths  which 
we  have  affirmed,  fanatical  inferences.  We 
endeavoured  before  to  preclude  all  occasion 
for  reproach  on  this  article,  yet  perhaps  we 
may  not  escape  it ;  for  how  often  does  an  un- 
friendly auditor,  in  order  to  enjoy  the  plea- 
sure of  decrying  a  disgustful  truth,  aifect  to 
forget  the  corrective,  with  which  the  preach- 
er sweetens  it .'  we  repeat  it,  therefore,  once 
more  ;  we  do  not  pretend  to  affirm,  that  the 
conditions  of  all  men  are  absolutely  equal,  by 
affirming"  that  in  some  senses  all  mankind  are 
on  a  level.  We  do  not  say,  that  the  man, 
whom  society  agrees  to  contemn,  is  as  happy 
as  the  man,  whom  society  unites  to  revere. 
We  do  not  say,  that  the  man,  who  has  no 
■where  to  hide  bis  head,  is  as  happy  as  he 
who  is  comniodiously  accommodated.  We 
do  not  say,  that  a  man  who  is  destitute  of  all 
the  necessaries  of  life,  is  as  happy  as  the  man, 
whose  fortune  is  sufficient  to  procure  him  all 
the  conveniences  of  it.  No,  my  brethren  !  we 
have  no  more  design  to  deduce  inferences  of 
fanaticism  from  the  doctrine  of  the  text,  than 
we  have  to  infer  ma.xims  of  anarchy  and  rebel- 
lion. But  we  infer  just  conclusions  conformable 
to  the  precious  gift  of  reason,  that  the  Creator 
has  bestowed  on  us,  and  to  the  incomparably 
more  precious  gift  of  religion  with  which  he 
has  enriched  us.     Derive  then,  my  brethren, 


conclusions  of  these  kinds,  uijd  let  them  be 
the  application  of  this  discourse. 

Derive  from  our  subject  conclusions  of 
moderation.  Labour,  for  it  is  allowable,  and 
the  morality  of  the  gospel  does  not  condemn 
it,  labour  to  render  your  name  illustrious,  to 
augment  your  fortune,  to  establish  your  repu- 
tation, to  contribute  to  the  pleasure  of  your 
life  ;  but  labour  no  more  than  becomes  you. 
Let  effijrts  of  this  kind  never  make  you  lose 
sight  of  the  great  end  of  life.  Remember,  as 
riches,  grandeur  and  reputation,  are  not  the 
supreme  good,  so  obscurity,  meanness,  and  in- 
digence, are  not  the  supreme  evil.  Let  the 
care  of  avoidmg  the  supreme  evil,  and  the 
desire  of  obtaining  the  supreme  good,  be  al- 
ways the  most  ardent  of  our  wishes,  and  let 
others  yield  to  that  of  arriving  at  the  chief  good. 

Derive  from  our  doctrine  conclusions  of 
acquiescence  in  the  laws  of  Providence.  If  it 
please  Providence  to  put  an  essential  diffei- 
ence  between  you  and  the  great  men  of  the 
earth,  let  it  be  your  holy  ambition  to  excel  in  it. 
You  cannot  murmur  without  being  guilty  of 
reproaching  God,  because  he  has  made  you 
what  you  are  ;  because  he  formed  you  men 
and  not  angels,  archangels  or  seraphim.  . 
Had  he  annexed  essential  privileges  to  the 
highest  ranks,  submis.sion  would  always  be 
your  lot,  end  you  ought  always  to  adore,  and 
to  submit  to  that  intelligence,  which  governs 
the  world :  but  this  is  not  your  case.  God 
gives  to  the  great  men  of  the  earth  an  exte- 
rior, transient,  superficial  glory  ;  but  he  has 
made  you  share  with  them  a  glory  real,  solid, 
and  permanent.  What  difficulty  can  a  wise  jnau 
find  by  acquiescing  in  this  law  of  Providence  .•* 

Derive  from  the  truths  you  have  heard 
conclusions  of  »/!o-j/rt7ice.  Instead  of  ingeni- 
ously flattering  yourself  with  the  vain  glory 
of  being  elevated  above  your  neighbour  ;  or 
of  suffering  your  mind 'to  sink  under  the  pue- 
rile mortification  of  being  inferior  to  him ; 
incessantly  inquire  what  is  the  virtue  of  your 
station,  the  duty  of  your  rank,  and  use  your 
utmost  industry  to  fill  it  worthily.  You  are 
a  magistrate,  the  virtue  of  your  station,  the 
duty  of  your  rank,  is  to  employ  yourself 
wholly  to  serve  your  fellow-subjects  in  inferior 
stations,  to  prefer  the  public  good  before  your 
own  private  interest,  to  sacrifice  yourself  for 
the  advantage  of  that  state,  the  reins  of 
which  you  hold.  Practise  this  virtue,  fulfil 
these  engagements,  put  off  self-interest,  and 
devote  yourself  wholly  to  a  people,  who  in- 
trust you  with  their  properties,  their  liberties, 
and  their  lives.  You  are  a  subject,  the  duty 
of  your  rank,  the  virtue  of  your  station,  la 
submission,  and  you  should  obey  not  only 
through  fear  of  punishment,  but  through  a 
wise  regard  for  order.  Practise  this  virtue, 
fulfil  this  engagement,  make  it  your  glory  to 
submit,  and  in  the  authority  of  princes  respect 
the  power  of  God,  whose  ministers  and  re- 
presentatives they  are.  You  are  a  rich  man, 
the  virtue  of  your  station,  the  duty  of  your 
condition,  is  beneficence,  generosity,  magna- 
nimity. Practise  these  virtues,  discharge 
these  duties.  Let  your  heart  be  always  moved 
with  the  necessities  of  the  wretched,  and 
your  ears  open  to  their  complaints.  Never 
omit  an  opportunity  of  domg  good,  and  be  in 
society  a  general  resource,  a  universal  refuge. 


^7-i 


THE  WORTH  OF  THE  SOUL. 


ttfEB.   XXX. 


From  the  irutlis  which  you  have  heard,  de- 
)-ive  motives  of  zeal  and  fervour.  It  is  mor- 
tifying, I  own,  in  some  respects,  when  one 
feels  certain  emotions  of  dignity  and  eleva- 
tion, to  sink  in  society.  It  is  mortifying  to  beg 
bread  of  one  who  is  a  man  like  ourselves.  It 
is  mortifying  to  be  trodden  under  foot  by  our 
equals,  and  to  say  all  in  a  word,  to  be  in 
stations  very  unequal  among  our  equals.  But 
this  economy  will  quickly  vanish.  The 
fashion  of  this  world  will  presently  pass 
away,  and  we  shall  soon  enter  that  blessed 
state,  in  which  all  distinctions  will  be  abolish- 
ed, and  in  which  all  that  is  noble  in  immor- 


tal souls,  will  shine  in  all  its  splendour.  Let 
us,  my  brethren,  sigh  after  this  period,  let 
us  make  it  the  object  of  our  most  constant 
and  ardent  prayers.  God  grant  we  may  all 
have  a  right  to  pray  for  it !  God  grant  our 
text  may  be  one  day  verified  in  a  new  sense. 
May  all  who  compose  this  assembly,  masters 
and  servants,  rich  and  poor,  may  we  all,  my 
dear  hearers  having  acknowledged  ourselves 
equal  in  essence,  m  privileges,  in  destina- 
tion, in  last  end,  may  we  all  alike  participate 
the  same  glory.  God  grant  it  for  his  mer- 
cy sake.    Amen. 


SERMON    XXX. 


THE    WORTH     OF    THE     SOUL 


Matthew  xvi.  26. 
J'Ffiat  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  Ids  soul  ? 


M^Y  brethren,  before  we  enforce  the  truths 
which  Jesus  Christ  included  in  the  words  of 
the  text,  we  will  endeavour  to  fix  the  mean- 
ing of  it.     This  depends  on  the  term  soul, 
which  is  used  in   this  passage,  and  which  is 
one  of  the  most  equivocal   words  in    Scrip- 
ture ;  for  it  is  taken  in  different,  and  even  in 
contrary  senses,  so  that  sometimes  it  signi-  I 
fies  a  '  dead  body,'  Lev.  xxi.  1.     We  will  not  | 
divert    your  attention  now   by  reciting  the  \ 
long  list  of  explications  that  may  be  given  to  j 
the  term:  but  we  will  content  ourselves  with 
remarking,  that  it  can  be  taken  only  in  two 
senses  in  the  text. 

Soul  may  be  taken  for  life ;  and  in  this 
sense  the  term  is  used  by  St.  Matthew,  who 
says,  '  They  are  dead  who  sought  the  young 
child's  soul,'  chap.  ii.  20.  Sovl,  may  be 
taken  for  that  spiritual  part  of  us,  which  we 
call  the  soul  by  excellence  ;  and  in  this  sense 
it  is  used  by  our  Lord,  who  says,  '  fear  not 
them  which  kill  the  body,  but  arc  not  able  to 
kill  the  soul  :  but  rather  fear  Him,  which  is 
able  to  destroy  both  soul  and  body  in  hell,' 
chap.  X.  28. 

If  we  take  the  word  in  the  first  sense,  for 
life,  we  put  into  the  mouth  of  Jesus  Christ 
a  proposition  verified  by  experience ;  that 
is,  that  men  consider  life  as  the  greatest  of 
all  temporal  blessings,  and  that  they  part 
with  every  thing  to  preserve  it.  This  rule 
lias  its  exceptions:  but  the  exceptions  con- 
firm the  rule.  Sometimes,  indeed,  a  disgust 
with  the  world,  a  principle  of  religion,  a 
point  of  honour,  will  incline  men  to  sacrifice 
their  lives:  but  these  particular  cases  can- 
not prevent  our  saying  in  the  general,  '  What 
shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  life  .■" 

If  wo  take  the  word  for  that  part  of  man, 
which  we  call  the  soul  by  excellence,  Jesus 
Christ  intended  to  point  out  to  us,  not  what 
men  iisnially  do  (for  alas !  it  happens  too  of- 


ten, that  men  sacrifice  their  souls  to  ilie 
meanest  and  most  sordid  interest),  but  what 
they  always  ought  to  do.  He  meant  to  teach 
us,  that  the  soul  is  the  noblest  part  of  us,, 
and  that  nothing  is  too  great  to  be  given  for 
its  ransom. 

Both  these  Interpretations  are  probable, 
and  each  has  its  partisans,  and  its  proofs. 
But  although  we  would  not  condemn  the 
first,  we  prefer  tlic  last,  not  only  because  it  is 
the  most  noble  meaning,  and  opens  the 
most  extensive  field  of  meditation :  but  be- 
cause it  seems  to  us  the  most  coufoinia- 
ble  to  our  Saviour's  design  in  speaking  the 
words. 

Judge  by  what  precedes  our  text,  'What 
is  a  man  profited,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole 
world,  and  lose  his  own  soul .'  Jesus  Christ 
spoke  thus  to  fortify  his  disciples  against  the 
temptations,  to  which  their  profession  of  tho 
i  gospel  was  about  to  expose  them  If  by  the 
word  soul  we  understand  the  life,  we  sliall  be 
obliged  to  go  a  great  way  about  to  give  any 
reasonable  sense  to  the  words.  On  the  con- 
trary, if  we  take  the  word  for  the  spirit,  the 
meaning  of  the  whole  is  clear  and  easy. 
Now  it  seems  to  me  beyond  a  doubt,  that  Je- 
sus Christ,  by  the  manner  in  which  he  has 
connected  the  text  with  the  preceding  verse, 
used  the   term  soul  in  the  latter  sense. 

Judge  of  our  comment  also  by  what  fol- 
lows. '  What  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange 
for  his  soul .'  For,'  adds,  our  Lord  immedi- 
ately after,  '  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in 
the  glory  of  his  Father,  with  his  angels;  and 
then  he  shall  reward  every  man  according  to 
his  works.'  What  connexion  have  these 
words  with  our  text,  if  we  take  the  word 
soul  for  life  I'  What  connexion,  is  there  be- 
tween this  proposition,  Man  has  nothing 
more  valuable  than  life,  and  this,  '  I^or  the 
Son  of  man  shall  come  in  tlie  glory  of  his 


Ser.  KXX.} 


THE  WORTH  OP  THE  SOUL. 


^T   I    ft, 


Father,  with  his  angels  ?'  Whereas  if  we 
adopt  our  sense  of  the  term,  the  connexion  in- 
stantly appears. 

We  will  then  retain  this  explication.  By 
the  soul  we  understand  here  the  spirit  of 
man;  and,  this  word  bein^  thus  explained, 
the  meaning  of  Je3us  Ciirist  in  the  whole 
passage  is  understood  in  part,  and  one  re- 
mark will  be  sufficient  to  explain  it  wholly. 
We  must  attend  to  the  true  meanmg  of  the 
phrase,  'lose  his  soul,'  which  im.nediately 
precedes  the  text,  and  which  we  shall  often 
Use  to  explain  the  text  itself  To  '  lose  the 
soul'  does  not  signify  to  be  deprived  of  this 
part  of  one's  self;  for,  however  great  this 
punishment  might  be,  it  is  the  chief  object 
of  a  wicked  man's  wishes  ;  but  to  ■  lose  the 
soul'  is  to  lose  those  real  blessings,  and  to 
sustain  those  real  evils,  which  a  soul  is  capa- 
ple  of  enjoying  and  of  sufFering.  When, 
therefore,  Jesus  Christ  says  in  the  wards  that 
precede  the  text,  '  Wiiat  is  a  man  profited,  if 
he  shall  gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his 
own  soul .-"  and  in  the  text,  '  VVhat  shall  a 
man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul .''  ho  ex- 
hibits one  truth  under  different  faces,  so  that 
our  reflections  will  naturally  be  turned  some- 
times to  the  one,  and  sometimes  to  the  other 
of  these  propositions.  He  points  out,  I  say, 
two  truths,  which  being  united,  signify,  that 
as  the  conquest  of  the  universe  would  not  be 
an  object  of  value  sufficient  to  engage  us  to  , 
sacrifice  our  souls,  so  if  we  had  lost  them,  no 
price  could  be  too  great  to  bo  paid  fi)r  the  re- 
covery of  them.  Let  u:^  here  fix  our  atten- 
tion ;  and  let  us  examine  what  constitutes  the 
dignity  of  the  soul.     L^t  us  inquire, 

L   The  excellence  of  its  nature  ; 

n.  The  infinity  of  its  duration  ; 

HL  The  price  of  its  redemption  ;  three 
articles  which  will  divide  this  discourse. 

1.  Nothing  can  be  given  in  exchange  for 
our  souls.  We  prove  this  proposition  by  the 
excellence  of  its  nature.  VVhat  is  the  soul  .•' 
There  have  been  great  absurdities,  in  the 
answers  given  to  this  question.  In  former 
ages  of  darkness,  when  most  of  tlie  studies 
that  were  pursued  for  the  cultivation  of  the 
mind  served  to  render  it  unfruitful ;  when 
people  thought  they  had  arrived  at  the  high- 
est degree  of  knowledge,  if  tliey  had  filled 
their  memories  with  pompous  terms  and  su- 
perb nonsense  ;  in  those  times,  I  say  it  was 
thought,  the  question  might  be  fully  and  sa- 
tisfactorily answered,  and  clear  and  complete 
ideas  given  of  the  nature  of  the  soul.  But  in 
latter  times,  when  philosophy  being  cleansed 
from  the  impurities  that  infected  the  schools, 
equivocal  terms  were  rejected,  and  only  clear 
and  distinct  ideas  admitted,  and  thus  litera- 
ry investigations  reduced  to  real  and  solid 
use  ;  in  these  days,  I  say,  philosophers,  and 
philosophers  of  great  name,  have  been  afraid 
to  answer  this  question,  and  we  liave  affirm- 
ed that  the  narrow  limits  which  confine  our 
researclios,  disable  us  from  acquiring  any 
other  than  obscure  notions  of  the  human 
soul,  and  that  all  which  wo  can  propose  to 
elucidate  the  nature  of  it,  serves  rather  to 
discover  what  it  is  not,  than  what  it  is.  But 
if  the  decisions  of  the  former  savour,  of 
presumption,  does  not  the  timid  reserved ness 
of  the  latter  seem  a  blamcablc  modostv  ?    If  I 


we  be  incapable  of  giving  sucii  sufficient  an- 
swers to  the  question  as  would  fully  satisfy 
a  genius  earnest  in  inquiring,  and  eager  for 
demonstration,  may  we  not  be  able  to  give 
clear  and  high  ideas  of  our  souls,  and  so  to 
verify  these  sententious  words  of  the  Sa- 
viour of  the  world,  '  Whit  shall  a  man  give 
in  exchange  for  his  soul .'" 

Indeed  we  do  clearly  and  distinctly  know 
three  properties  of  the  soul ;  and  every  one  of 
us  knows  by  his  own  experience,  that  it  is 
capable  of  knowing,  willing,  and  feeling. 
The  first  of  these  properties  is  intelligence, 
the  second  volition,  the  third  sensation,  or, 
more  properly,  the  acutest  sensibility.  I  am 
coming  now  to  the  design  of  my  text,  and 
here  I  hope  to  prove,  at  least  to  the  intelli- 
gent part  of  my  hearers,  by  the  nature  of 
the  soul,  that  the  loss  of  it  is  the  greatest  of 
all  losses,  and  that  nothing  is  too  valuable  to 
be  given  for  its  recovery. 

Intelligence  is  the  first  property  of  the 
soul,  and  the  first  idea  that  we  ought  to  form 
of  it,  to  know  its  nature.  The  perfection  of 
this  property  consists  in  having  clear  and 
distinct  ideas,  extensive  and  certain  know- 
ledge. '  To  lose  the  soul,'  in  this  respect,  is 
to  sink  into  total  ignorance.  This  loss  is  ir- 
reparable, and  he  who  should  have  lost  his, 
soul  in  this  sense,  could  give  nothing  too 
great  for  its  recovery.  Knowledge  and  hap- 
piness are  inseparable  in  intelligent  beings, 
and,  it  is  clear,  a  soul  deprived  of  intelli- 
gence cannot  enjoy  perfect  felicity.  Few 
men,  I  know,  can  be  persuaded  to  admit  this 
truth,  and  there  are,  I  must  allow,  great 
restrictions  to  be  made  on  this  article,  while 
we  are  in  the  present  state. 

1.  In  our  present  state,  'every  degree  of 
knowledge,  that  the  mind  acquires,  costs  the 
body  much.'  A  man.  who  would  make  a 
progress  in  science,  must  retire,  meditate, 
and  in  some  sense,  involve  himself  in  him- 
self. Now,  meditation  exhausts  the  animal 
spirits  ;  close  attention  tires  the  brain  ;  the 
collecting  of  the  soul  into  itself  often  injures 
the  health,  and  sometimes  puts  a  period  to  life. 
In  our  present  state,  'our  knowledge  is 
confined  within  narrow  bounds.'  Questions 
the  most  wortiiy  of  our  curiosity,  and  the 
most  proper  to  animate  and  inflame  us,  are 
unanswerable  ;  for  the  objects  lie  beyond  our 
reach.  From  all  our  efforts  to  eclaircisc 
such  questions  we  sometimes  derive  only 
mortifying  reflections  on  the  weakness  ot' 
our  capacities,  and  the  narrow  limits  of  onr 
knowledge. 

o.  In  this  present  state,  sciences  are  inra- 
pnh'e  of  demonMration.  and  consist,  in  re- 
gard to  us,  of  little  more  than  probabilities 
and  appearances.  A  man,  whose  genius  is  a 
liitlo  exact,  is  obliged  in  multitudes  of  cases 
to  doubt,  and  to  suspend  his  judgment ;  and 
his  pleasure  of  investigating  a  point  is  al- 
most always  interrupted  by  the  too  well- 
grounded  fear  of  taking  a  shadow  for  a  sub- 
stance, a  phantom  for  a  reality. 

4.  In  this  world,  viost  of  those  sciences, 
in  the  study  of  which  we  spend  the  best 
part  of  life,  arc  improperly  called  sciences  ; 
they  have  indeed  some  distant  relation  to 
our  wants  in  this  present  state :  but  they 
have  no  reference  at  all  to  onr  real  dignitv. 


70 


THE  WORTH  Or*  THE  SOUL. 


[Sek.  XXIX. 


What  relation  to  the  real  dignity  of  man  has 
the  kno\rledge  of  languages,  the  arranging 
of  varioii.s  arbitrary  and  barbarous  terms  in 
the  mind  to  enable  one  to  express  one  thing 
in  a  hundred  different  words.'  What  rela- 
tion to  the  real  dignity  of  man  has  the  study 
of  antiquity .'  Is  it  worth  while  to  hold  a 
thousand  conferences,  and  to  toil  through  a 
thousand  volumes  for  the  sake  of  discovering 
the  reveries  of  our  ancestors .'' 

5.  In  this  world  we  often  see  real  and  use- 
ful knowledge  deprived  of  its  lustre  through 
the  supercilious  neglect  of  mankind,  and 
science,  falsely  so  called,  crowned  with  their 
applause.  One  man,  whose  mind  is  a  kind 
of  scientific  chaos,  full  of  vain  speculations 
and  confused  ideas,  shall  be  preferred  before 
another,  whose  speculations  have  always  j 
been  directed  to  form  his  judgment,  to  purify  I 
his  ideas,  and  to  bow  his  heart  to  truth  and  ' 
virtue.  This  partiality  is  often  seen.  Now,  j 
although  it  argues  a  narrowness  of  soul  to 
make  happiness  depend  on  the  opinions  of 
others,  yet  it  is  natural  for  intelligent  be- 
ings, placed  among  other  intelligent  beings, 
to  wish  for  that  approbation  which  is  due  to 
real  merit.  Were  the  present  life  of  any  long 
duration,  were  not  the  proximity  of  all  pursu- 
inor  death  a  powerful  consolation  against  all 
our  inconveniences,  these  unjust  estimations 
Vi'ould  be  very  mortifying. 

Such  being  the  imperfections,  the  defects, 
and  the  obstacles  of  our  knowledge,  we  ought 
not  to  be  surprised,  if  in  general  we  do  not  com- 
prehend the  great  influence  that  tlie  perfec- 
tion of  our  faculty  of  thinking  and  knowing 
has  over  our  happiness.  And  yet  even  in  this 
life,  and  with  all  these  disadvantages,  our 
knowledge,  however  ditficult  to  acquire,  how- 
ever confined,  uncertain,  and  partial,  how  lit- 
tle soever  it  may  be  applauded,  contributes  to 
our  felicity.  Even  in  this  life  there  is  an  ex- 
treme difference  between  a  learned  and  illi- 
terate man  :  between  him,  whose  knowledge 
of  languages  enables  him  (so  to  speak)  to 
converse  with  people  of  all  nations,  and 
of  all  ages ;  and  him  who  can  only  con- 
verse with  his  own  contemporary  country- 
men :  between  him,  whose  knowledge  of  his- 
tory enables  him  to  distinguish  the  success- 
ful from  tlie  hazardous,  and  to  profit  by  the 
vices  and  tlie  virtues  of  his  predecessors ; 
and  him.  who  falls  every  day  into  mistakes 
inseparable  from  the  want  of  experience  :  be- 
tween him,  whose  knowledge  of  history  ena- 
bles him  to  distinguish  the  successful  from 
the  hazardous,  and  to  profit  bj-  the  vices  and 
the  virtues  of  his  predecessors  ;  and  him, 
who  falls  every  day  into  mistakes  insepara- 
ble from  the  want  of  experience :  between 
him  whose  own  understanding  weighs  all  in 
the  balance  of  truth ;  and  him,  who  every 
moment  needs  a  guide  to  conduct  him.  Even 
iu  this  life,  a  man  collected  w-ithin  hiiuself, 
sequestered  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  sepa- 
rated from  an  intercourse  with  all  the  living, 
deprived  of  all  that  constitutes  the  bliss  of 
society,  entombed,  if  the  expression  may  be 
allowed,  in  a  solitary  closet,  or  in  a  dusty  U- 
brary ,  such  a  man  enjoys  an  innocent  pleasure, 
rtiore  satisfactory  and  refined  than  that, 
which  places  of  diversion  the  most  frequent- 
ed, and  sights  the  most  superb,  can  afford. 


But  if,  even  in  this  life,  learning  and  know- 
ledge have  so  much  influence  over  our  hap- 
piness, what  shall  we  enjoy,  when  our  souls 
shall  be  freed  from  their  slavery  to  the  senses  ? 
What,  then  we  are  permitted  to  indulge  to 
the  utmost  the  pleasing  desire  of  knowing  r 
What  felicity,  when  God  shall  unfold  to  our 
contemplation  that  boundless  extent  of  truth 
and  knowledge  which  his  intelligence  re- 
volves !  What  happiness  will  accompaivy  our 
certain  knowledge  of  the  nature,  the  perfec- 
tions, and  the  purposes  of  God  !  What  plea- 
sure will  attend  our  discovery  of  the  profound 
wisdom,  the  perfect  equity,  and  the  exact  fit- 
ness of  those  events,  which  often  surprised 
and  offended  us !  Above  all,  what  sublime  de- 
light must  we  enjoy,  when  we  find  our  own 
interest  connected  with  every  truth,  and  all 
serve  to  demonstrate  the  reality,  the  dura- 
tion, the  inadmissibility,  of  our  happiness! 
How  think  you,  my  brethren,  is  not  such  a 
property  beyond  all  valuation .'  Can  the  world 
indemnify  us  for  the  final  loss  of  it  ?  If  we  have 
had  the  unhappiness  to  lose  it,  ought  any  thing 
to  be  accounted  too  great  to  be  given  for  its 
recovery .'  And  is  not  this  expression  of  .lesus 
Christ,  in  this  view  of  it,  full  of  meaning  and 
truth, '  What  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange 
for  his  soul !' 

What  we  have  affirmed  of  the  first  property 
of  our  souls,  that  it  is  infinitely  capable  of  con- 
tributing to  our  happiness,  although  we  can 
never  fully  comprehend  it  on  earth,  we  affirm 
of  the  other  two  properties,  volition,  and 
sensibility. 

The  perfection  of  the  will  consists  in  a  per- 
fect harmony  between  the  holiness  and  the 
plenitude  of  our  desires.  Now,  to  what  degree 
soever  we  carry  our  holiness  on  earth,  it  is  al- 
ways mixed  with  imperfection.  And,  as  our 
holiness  is  imperfect,  our  enjoyments  must 
be  so  too.  Moreover,  as  Providence  itself 
seems  often  to  gratify  an  irregular  will,  we 
cannot  well  comprehend  the  misery  of  losing 
the  soul  in  this  respect.  But  judge  of  this 
loss  (and  let  one  reflection  suffice  on  this  ar- 
ticle), judge  of  this  loss  by  this  consideration. 
In  that  economy,  into  which  our  souls  must 
enter,  the  Being,  the  most  essentially  holy,  I 
mean  God,  is  the  most  perfectly  happy  ;  and 
the  most  obstinately  wicked  being  is  the  most 
completely  miserable. 

In   like   manner,  we  cannot  well   compre- 
hend to   what  degree   the   property   of  our 
Fouls,  that  renders   us   susceptible  of  sensa- 
tions, can  be  carried.     How  miserable  soever 
the  state  of  a  man  exposed  to  heavy  afflictions 
on  earth  may  be,  a  thousand  causes  lesson  the 
weight  of  them.     Sometimes   reason   assists 
the  sufferer,   and   sometimes  religion,  some- 
times  a    friend   condoles,  and  sometimes   a 
remedy  relieves  ;    and  this  thought    at    all 
times  remains,  death  will  shortly  terminate  all 
my  ills.     The  same  reflections  may  be  made 
on  sensations  of  pleasure,  which  are  always 
I  mixed,  suspended,  and  interrupted. 
I      Nevertheless,   the    experience  we  have  of 
:  our  sensibility  on   earth  is  sufficient  to  give 
us  some  just  notions  of  the  greatness  of  that 
:  loss,  which  a  soul  may  sustain  in  this  respect ; 
■  nor  is  there  any  need  to  arouse  our  imagina- 
tions by  images  of  an  economy  of  which  we 
have  no  idea. 


Seb.  XXX.] 


THE  WORTH  OF  THE  SOUL. 


277 


The  most  depraved  of  mankind,  thoy  who 
are  slaves  to  their  senses,  may  comprehend 
the  great  misery  of  a  state,  in  which  the  sen- 
ses will  be  tormented,  even  better  than  a  be- 
liever can,  who  usually  studies  to  diminish 
the  authority  of  sense,  and  to  free  his  soul 
from  its  lawless  sway. 

Judge  ye  then  of  the  loss  of  the  soul,  ye 
Bensual  minds,  by  this  single  consideration, 
if  you  have  been  insensible  to  all  the  rest. 
When  we  endeavour  to  convince  you  of  the 
greatness  of  this  loss  by  urging  the  privation  of 
that  knowledge,  which  the  elect  enjoy  now, 
and  which  they  hope  to  enjoy  hereafter,  you 
were  not  affected  with  this  misery,  because 
you  considered  the  pleasure  of  knowing  as  a 
»;himera.  When  we  attempted  to  convince 
you  of  the  misery  of  losing  the  soul  by  urging 
the  privation  of  virtue,and  the  stinging  remorse 
that  follows  sin,  you  were  not  touched  with 
this  misery,  because  virtue  you  consider  as  a 
restraint,  and  remorse  as  a  folly.  But  as  you 
know  no  other  felicity,  nor  any  other  misery, 
than  what  your  senses  transmit  to  your  souls, 
judge  of  the  loss  of  the  soul  by  conceiving  a 
state,  in  which  all  the  senses  shall  be  punish- 
ed. The  loss  of  the  soul  is  the  loss  of  those 
harmonious  sounds,  which  have  so  oflen 
charmed  your  ears  ;  it  is  the  loss  of  those  ex- 
quisite flavours,  that  your  palate  has  so  often 
relished ;  it  is  the  loss  of  all  those  objects  of 
desire  which  have  so  often  excited  your  pas- 
sions. The  loss  of  the  soul  is  an  ocean  of 
pain,  tiie  bare  idea  of  which  has  so  often 
jnade  you  tremble,  when  religion  called  you 
to  sail  on  it.  The  loss  of  tlie  soul  will  be  in 
regard  to  you  the  imprisonment  of  yon  con-  | 
fessor,  inclosed  in  a  dark  and  filthy  dungeon, 
a  prey  to  infection  and  putrefaction,  deprived 
of  the  air  and  the  light.  The  loss  of  the 
soul  will  reduce  you  to  the  condition  of  that 
galley-slave  groaning  under  the  lashes  of  a 
barbarous  officer,  who  is  loaded  with  a  gall- 
ing chain,  who  sinks  under  the  labour  of  that 
oar  which  he  works,  or  rather,  with  which  he 
himself  is  trailing  along.  The  loss  of  the 
soul  will  place  you  in  the  condition  of  yon 
martyr  on  the  wheel,  whose  living  limbs  arc 
disjointed  and  racked,  whose  lingering  life  is 
loath  to  cease,  who  lives  to  glut  the  rage  of 
his  tormentors,  and  who  expires  only  through 
an  overflowing  access  of  pain,  his  execution- 
ers with  barbarous  industry,  being  frugal 
of  his  blood  and  his  strength,  in  order  to  make 
Jiim  suffer  as  much  as  he  can  possibly  suffer 
before  he  dies. 

But,  as  I  said  before,  all  these  images  con- 
vey but  very  imperfect  ideas  of  the  loss  of 
our  souls.  Were  we  to  extend  our  specula- 
tions as  far  as  the  subject  would  allow,  it  would 
be  easy  to  prove  that  the  soul  is  capable  of 
enjoying  sensible  pleasures  infinitely  more 
rehnedjand  of  suffering  pains  infinitely  more 
excruciating,  than  all  ^hose  which  are  felt  in 
this  world.  In  this  world,  sensations  of  pleasure 
and  pain  arc  proportioned  to  the  end,  that  the 
Creator  proposed  in  rendering  us  capable  of 
them.  This  end  is  almost  alwa3's  the  preser 
vation  and  well-being  of  the  body  during  the 
short  period  of  mortal  life.  To  answer  this 
end,  it  is  not  necessary,  that  pleasure  and  pain 
should  be  as  exquisite  as  our  senses  may  be 
•■apable  of  enduring.    If  our  senses  give  us 


notice  of  the  approach  of  things  hurtful  and 
beneficial  to  us,  it  is  sufficient 

But  in  heaven  sensible  pleasures  will  be 
infinitely  more  exquisite.  Tlicre  the  love  of 
God  will  have  its  free  course.  There  tlio 
promisesof  religion  will  all  be  fulfilled.  There 
the  labours  of  the  righteous  will  be  rewarded. 
There  we  shall  discover  how  far  the  power  of 
God  will  be  displayed  in  favour  of  an  elect 
soul.  In  like  manner,  the  extent  of  divine 
power  in  punishing  the  wicked  will  appear  m 
their  future  state  of  misery.  That  justice 
must  be  glorified,  which  nothirrg  but  the  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ  could  appease  in  favour  of  the 
elect.  There  the  sinner  must  fall  a  victim  to 
the  wrath  of  God.  There"  he  must  experi- 
ence how  '  fearful  a  thing  it  is  to  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  living  God,'  Heb.  x  31.  Has  a 
man  who  is  threatened  with  these  miseries, 
any  thing  too  valuable  to  give  for  this  re- 
demption from  them  .''  Is  not  the  nature  of 
our  souls,  which  is  known  by  tliese  three  pro- 
perties, understanding,  volition,  and  sensi- 
bility, expressive  of  its  dignity  ?  Does  not 
this  demonstrate  this  proposition  of  our  Sa- 
viour, '  What  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange 
for  his  soul  ?' 

II.  The  immortality  of  a  soul  constitutes 
its  dignitj^and  its  endless  durationisa  source 
of  demonstrations  in  favour  of  the  proposition 
in  tlie  text.  This  dignity  is  incontestable. 
The  principle  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
from  which  we  reason,  is  undeniable.  Two 
suppositions  may  seem,  at  first  sigb.t,  to  weak- 
en the  evidence  of  the  immortality  of  the 
soul.  First,  The  close  union  of  the  soul  to  the 
body  seems  unfavourable  to  the  doctrine  of 
its  immortality,  and  to  predict  its  dissolution 
with  the  body.  But  this  supposition,!  think, 
vanishes,  when  we  consider  what  a  dispro- 
portion there  is  between  the  properties  of 
the  soul,  and  those  of  the  body.  This  dis- 
proportion proves,  that  they  are  two  distinct 
substances.  The  separation  of  two  distinct 
substances  makes  indeed  some  change  in  the 
manner  of  their  existing:  but  it  can  make 
none  really  in  their  existence. 

But  whatever  advantages  we  may  derive 
from  this  reasoning,  I  freely  acknowledge, 
that  this,  of  all  philosophical  arguments  for 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  least  of  any 
affects  me.  The  great  question,  on  tlii.s 
article,  is  not  what  we  think  of  our  souls, 
when  we  consider  them  in  themselves,  inde- 
pendently of  God,  whose  omnipotence  sur- 
rounds and  governs  them.  Could  an  infidel 
demonstrate  against  us,  that  tlie  human  soul 
is  material,  and  that  therefore  it  must  perish 
with  the  body :  could  we,  on  the  contrary, 
demonstrate  against  him,  that  the  soul  is 
immaterial,  and  that  therefore  it  is  not  sub- 
ject to  laws  of  matter,  and  must  survive 
the  destruction  of  the  body ;  neither  side 
in  my  opinion,  would  gain  any  thing  consi- 
derable. The  principal  question  which  alone 
ought  to  determine  our  notions  on  tliis  article, 
would  remain  unexamined  :  that  is,  whether 
God  will  employ  his  power  over  our  souls  to 
perpetuate,  or  to  destroy  them.  For  could 
an  infidel  prove,  that  God  would  employ  his 
power  to  annihilate  our  souls,  in  vain  should 
we  have  demoirstrated,  that  they  were  natu- 
rally immortal ;    for   v/c   should  be  obliged 


278 


THE  WORTH  OF  THE  SOUL. 


[riEE.  XXX. 


to  own,  lluit  the}'  arc  mortal  in  respect  of 
the  will  of  that  God,  whose  omnipotence 
rules  tiicm.  In  like  manner,  if  we  could 
prove  to  an  unbeliever,  that  God  would  em- 
ploy his  power  to  preserve  them  in  eternal 
c-xistence,  in  vain  would  he  hav<!  demonstrat- 
ed, that  considered  in  themselves  they  are 
mortal ;  and  he  would  be  obliged  in  his  turn 
to  allow  Innnai^  souls  are  inmiortal  in  virtue 
of  the  suijreine  jjower  of  God.  Now,  my 
brethren,  the  supposition,  tliat  God  will  em- 
ploy his  power  to  annihilate  our  souls,  will 
entirely  disappear,  if  you  attend  to  the  well- 
known  and  iiuiiiliar  arginncnt  of  tlie  connex- 
ion between  the  immortality  of  that  soul,  and 
that  desire  of  inmiortalily  which  the  Creator 
has  imparted  to  it.  What  can  we  reply  to  a 
man  who  reasons  in  this  manner  .-' 

I  find  myself  in  a  world,  where  all  things 
declare  the  perfections  of  the  Creator,  'i'he 
more  1  consider  all  the  parts,  the  more  I 
admire  the  fitness  of  each  to  answer  the  end 
of  him  who  created  them  all.  Among  num- 
berless productions  perfectly  correspondent 
to  their  destination  1  liiid  only  one  being, 
whose  condition  does  not  seem  to  agree  with 
that  marvellous  order,  which  I  have  observed 
in  all  the  rest.  This  being  is  my  own  soul. 
And  what  is  this  soul  of  mine  ?  Is  it  fire  ?  Is 
it  air.'*  Is  it  ethereal  matter  .''  Under  what- 
ever notions  I  consider  it,  I  am  at  a  loss  to 
define  it.  However,  notwithstanding  this 
obscurity,  1  do  perceive  enough  of  its  nature 
to  convince  me  of  a  great  disproportion 
between  the  present  state  of  my  soul,  and 
that  end  for  which  its  Creator  seems  to  have 
formed  it.  This  soul,  1  know,  I  feel  (and,  of 
all  arguments,  there  are  none  more  convin- 
cing than  those,  that  are  taken  from  senti- 
ment,) this  soul  is  a  being  eagerly  bent  on 
the  enjoyment  of  a  happiness  infuiite  in  its 
duration.  Should  any  one  offer  me  a  state 
of  perfect  happiness  that  would  continue  ten 
thousand  years,  an  assemblage  of  reputation 
and  riches,  grandeur  and  magnificence,  per- 
haps, dazzled  with  its  glare,  I  might  cede  my 
pretensions  in  consideration  of  this  enjoy- 
ment. But,  after  all,  1  fully  perceive,  that 
this  felicity,  how  long,  and  how  perfect 
soever  it  might  be,  would  be  inadeqiuite  to 
my  wishes.  Ten  thousand  years  are  too  few 
to  gratify  my  desires  ;  my  desires  leap  the 
bounds  of  all  fixed  periods  of  duration,  and 
roll  along  a  boundless  eternity.  What  is  not 
eternal  is  unequal  to  my  wishes,  eternity  only 
can  satisfy  them. 

Such  is  my  soul.  But  where  is  it  lodged  ^ 
Its  place  is  tlie  ground  of  my  astonishment. 
This  soul,  this  subject  of  so  many  desires, 
inhabits  a  world  of  vanity  and  nothiiig- 
iiess.  Whether  I  climb  the  highest  eminences, 
or  pry  into  the  deejjest  indigence,  I  can  dis- 
cover no  object  capable  of  filling  my  capacious 
desires.  1  ascend  tlie  thrones  of  sovereigns, 
1  descend  into  the  beggar's  dust ;  I  walk  the 
palaces  of  princes,  1  lodge  in  the  peasant's 
cabin  ;  I  retire  into  the  closet  to  be  wise,  I 
avoid  recollection,  choose  ignorance,  and  in- 
erea.se  tlie  crowd  of  idiots  ;  I  live  in  solitude, 
I  rush  into  the  social  nmltitude  :  but  every 
where  I  fuid  a  mortifying  void.     In  all  these 

ijiaces  there  is  nothing  satisfactory.     In  each 
.  arn  more  nnhappy,   through   tlie  desire  of 


seeing  new  objects,  than  satisfied  with  the 
enjoyment  of  what  I  possess.  At  most,  I  ex- 
perience nothing  in  all  these  pleasures,  which 
my  concupiscence  multiplies,  but  a  mean  of 
rendering  my  condition  tolerable,  not  a  mean 
of  making  it  perfectly  happy. 

How  can    I  reconcile  these  things  ?    How 
can  I  make  the   Creator  agree  with  himself' 
There  is  one  way  of  doing    this,  a   singular 
but  a  certain  way  ;    a  way  that  solves  all  dif- 
ficulties, and  covers  infidehty  with  confusion  ; 
a  way  that  teaches  me  what  I  am,  whence  I 
came,  and  for  what  iny  Creator  has  designed 
me.      Although  God  has  placed  me  in  this 
world,   yet  he  does  not   design  to   limit  my 
prospects  to   it ;    though  he  has  mixed  me 
with  mere  animals,  yet  he  does  not  intend  to 
confound    me   with    them ;    though   he   has 
lodged  my  soul  in  a  frail  perishable  body,  yet 
he  does  not  mean  to  involve  it  in  the  dissolu- 
tion of  this  frame.     Without  supposing  im- 
j  mortality,  that  which  constitutes  the  dignity 
I  of  man.  makes  his  misery.     These  desires  of 
immortal  duration,   this   faculty  of  thinking 
i  and  reflecting,of  expanding  and  perpetuating 
i  the  mind  ;  this  superiority  of  soul,  that  seems 
to   elevate    mankind    above  beasts,   actually 
i  places  the  beast  above  the  man,  and  fills  him 
witli  these  bitter  reflections  full  of  mortifi- 
cation and  pain.     Ye  crawling  reptiles!  ye 
j  beasts  of  the  field  !    destitute  of  intelligence 
and   reason  !    if  my  soul    be  not  immortal,  I 
envy  your    condition.      Content   with  your 
:  own  organs,  pleased  with  ranging  the  fields, 
and  browsing  the  herbage,  your  desires  need 
j  no  restraint ;    for  all  your  wishes  are   fully 
satisfied.      V/hile   I,  abounding  on    the  one 
I  hand  with  insatiable  desires,  and  on  the  other 
'  confined    amidst  vain  and  unsatisfactory  ob- 
j  ject^i,  I  am  on  this  account  uniiappy  ! 
j       We  repeat  these  philosophical  reasoning.^. 
[  my  brethren,  only  for  the  sake  of  convincing 
j  you,  that  we  are  in  possession  of  immense  ad- 
vantages over  skeptics  in  this  dispute.     On 
J  the  principles  of  an  unbeliever,  you  see,  were 
his  notion  of  revelation  well-grounded ;  were 
1  the  sacred  book,  in  which  so  many  charac- 
ters of  truth   shine,   a   human   production ; 
i  were  a  reasonable  man  obliged  to  admit  no 
I  other   propositions   than  those,  which  have 
'  been  allowed  at  the  tribunal  of  right  reason: 
I  3^ea,  we  say  more,  were  our  souls  material, 
we  ought,  on  the  suppositions  before-men- 
I  tioned,  to   admit  the  immortality  of  the  soul 
as  most  conformable  to  our  best  notions  of  the 
will  of  our  Creator. 

But,  when  we  are  thus  convinced  of  our 
immortality,  need  we  an)'  new  arguments  to 
demonstrate  the  proposition  included  in  the 
text,'  What  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for 
his  soul .'"  ftlost  subjects  may  be  made  to 
appear  with  greater  or  less  dignity,  according 
to  the  greater  or  smaller  dctfree  of  impor- 
tance, in  which  the  preacher  places  it.  Pomp- 
ous expressions,  bold  figures,  lively  images, 
ornaments  of  eloquence,  may  often  supply 
either  a  want  of  dignity,  in  the  subject  dis- 
cussed, of  a  want  of  proper  disposition  in 
auditors,  who  attend  the  discussion  of  it. 
But  in  my  opinion,  every  attempt  to  give  im- 
portance to  a  motive  taken  from  eternity,  is 
more  likely  to  enfeeble  the  doctrine  than  to 
invigorate  it.     JMotives  of  this  kind  are  self- 


Ser.  XXX.] 


THE  WORTH  OF  THE  SOUL. 


279 


sufficient.  Descriptions  the  most  simple,  and 
the  most  natural,  that  can  be  made,  are  al- 
ways, I  think,  the  most  pathetic,  and  the 
most  terrifying- ;  nor  can  I  find  an  expression, 
on  this  article,  more  eloquent  and  more  em- 
phatical  than  this  of  St.  Paul,  '  The  things 
which  are  seen,  are  temporal :  but  thethinirs 
which  are  not  seen,  are  eternal,"  2  (-^or.  iii. 
18.  Were  the  possession  of  the  whole  world 
the  price  you  ask  in  '  exchange  for  your  souls:' 
were  the  whole  world  free  from  those  cliarac- 
ters  of  vanity,  which  open  such  a  boundless 
field  to  our  reflections ;  would  there  not 
always  be  this  disproportion  between  a  per- 
ishing world,  and  a  soul  aspiring  at  felicity, 
that  the  world  would  end,  and  the  soul  would 
never  die  .'' 

Death  puts  an  end  to  the  most  specious 
titles,  to  the  most  dazzling  grandeur,  and  to 
the  most  delicious  life  ;  and  the  thought  of 
this  period  of  human  glory  reminds  me  of 
the  memorable  action  of  a  prince,  who, 
■  although  he  was  a  heathen,  was  wiser  than 
many  Chri.?lians  ;  I  mean  the  great  Saladin. 
After  he  had  subdued  Egypt,  passed  the  Eu- 
phrates, and  conquered  cities  without  num- 
ber ;  after  he  had  retaken  Jerusalem,  and 
performed  exploits  more  than  human,  in 
those  wars  which  superstition  had  stirred  up 
for  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Land  ;  he  fin- 
ished his  life  in  the  performance  of  an  action, 
that  ought  to  be  transmitted  to  the  most  dis- 
tant posterity.  A  moment  before  he  uttered 
his  last  sigh,  he  called  the  herald,  who  had 
carried  his  banner  before  him  in  all  his  bat- 
tles, he  commanded  him  to  fasten  to  the  top 
of  a  lance,  the  shroud,  in  which  tlie  dying 
prince  was  soon  to  be  buried.  Go,  said  he, 
carry  this  lance,  imfurl  this  banner,  and, 
while  you  lift  up  this  standard,  proclaim, 
'  This,  this  is  all,  that  remains  to  Saladin  the 
Great,  the  conqueror  and  the  king  of  the 
empire,  of  all  his  glory.'*  Christians!  I 
perform  to-day  the  ofiice  of  this  herald.  I 
fasten  to  the  top  of  a  spear  sensual  and  intel- 
lectual pleasures,  worldly  riches,  and  human 
lionours.  All  these  1  reduce  to  the  piece  of 
crape,  in  which  you  will  sliurtly  be  buried. 
This  standard  of  death  I  lilt  up  in  your  sight, 
and  I  cry,  this,  this  is  all  that  v/ill  remai  n  to  you 
of  the  possessions,  for  whicii  you  exchanged 
your  souls.  Are  such  po.ssessions  too  great  to 
be  given  in  exchange  for  such  a  soul  ?  Can 
the  idea  of  their  perishing  nature  prevail 
over  the  idea  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  ? 
And  do  you  not  feel  the  truth  of  the  text, 
'  What  shall  a  man,'  a  rational  man,  a  man 
who  is  capable  of  comparing  eternity  with 
time,  what  shall  suchanian  •  give  in  e.v.cliangc 
lor  his  soul  .•" 

Finally,  We  make  a  reflection  of  another 
kind  to  convince  you  of  the  dignity  of  your 
souls,  and  to  persuade  you,  tliat  nothing  can 
be  too  valuable  to  be  given  in  exchange  for 
them.  This  is  taken  from  the  astonishing 
works  that  God  has  performed  in  their  favour. 
We  will  confine  ourselves  to  one  article,  to  the 
inestimable  price  that  God  has  given  for  the 
redemption  of  them.  Hear  these  words  of 
the  holy  Scriptures,  '  Ye  are  bought  with  a 


*  Maimb.  Hist,  des  CroLscdnSj  lib.  vi.  p.  573.  de 
rEdit.in4 


price.  Ye  were  redeemed  from  your  vain 
conversation,  not  with  corruptible  things,  as 
silver  and  crold  ;  but  with  the  precious  blood 
of  Christ,'  I  Cor.  vi.  20  ;  1  Pet.  i.  18. 

Some  of  you  perhaps,  may  say,  as  the 
limits  of  a  sermon  will  not  allow  us  to  speak 
of  more  than  one  of  the  wondrous  works  of 
God  in  favour  of  immortal  souls,  we  ought 
at  least,  to  choose  that  which  is  most  likely 
to  aflTect  an  audience,  and  not  to  dwell  on  n 
subject,  which  having  been  so  often  repeated, 
will  make  only  slight  impressions  on  their 
minds.  Perhaps,  were  we  to  inform  you,  that 
in  order  to  save  your  souls,  God  had  subvert 
ed  formerly  all  the  laws  of  nature,  or  to  use 
the  language  of  a  prophet,  that  ho  had 
'  shaken  the  heaven  and  the  earth,  the  sea 
and  the  dry  land,'  Hag.  ii.  6.  Perhaps,  were 
we  to  tell  you,  that  in  order  to  save  your 
souls,  God  deferred  the  end  of  the  world, 
and  put  off  the  last  vicissitudes,  that  are  to 
put  a  period  to  the  duration  of  this  universe, 
that  according  to  St.  Peter,  '  the  Lord  is 
long-suffering  to  us-ward,'  2  Pet.  iii.  9.  Per- 
haps, were  we  to  affirm,  that  in  order  to  save 
our  souls,  he  will  come  one  day  on  the  cloMds 
of  heaven,  sitting  on  a  throne,  surrounded 
with  glorious  angels,  accompanied  with 
myriads  of  shouting  voices,  to  deliver  them 
with  the  greater  pomp,  and  to  save  them 
witii  more  splendour  :  perhaps,  by  relating 
all  these  mighty  works  done  for  our  souls, 
wo  might  excite  in  you  ideas  of  their  dignity 
more  lively  than  that  which  we  have  choseUj 
and  to  which  we  intend  to  confine  our  atteu' 
(ion.  But  surmount  if  you  can,  your  cus- 
tomary indolence,  and  farni  an  adequate  idea 
of  the  dignity  and  of  the  sacrifice  of  Jesus 
Christ,  in  order  the  bettor  to  judge  of  the 
dignity  of  those  souls,  of  which  his  blood  was 
the  price. 

Go,  learn  it  in  heaven.  Behold  the  Deit}'. 
approach  his  throne.  Observe  the  '  thousand 
thousands  ministering  unto  him,  ten  thousand 
times  ten  thousand  standing  before  him,'  Dan. 
vii.  10.  See  his  eyes  sparkling  with  fire, 
and  his  majesty  and  glory  filling  his  sanctu- 
ary, and  by  tlie  dignity  of  the  victim  sacrificed, 
judge  of  tlie  value  of  the  sacrifice. 

Go,  study  it  in  all  the  economics,  that  pre- 
ceded this  sacrifice.  Observe  the  types, 
whicli  prefigured  it ;  the  shadows  that  traced 
it  out ;  the  ceremonies  which  depicted  it  ; 
and  by  the  pomp  of  the  preparations,  judge  of 
the  dignity  of  the  iubstance  pre))ared. 

Go,  learn  it  on  Moinit  Calvary.  Behold 
the  wrath  that  fell  on  the  bead  of  Jesu.s 
(jhrist.  Behold  his  blood  pouring  out  upon 
the  earth,  and  him,  your  Saviotir,  drinking 
the  bitter  cup  of  divine  displeasure.  See  his 
hands  and  his  feet  nailed  to  the  cross,  and 
his  whole  body  one  great  wound  ;  observe 
the  unbridled  populace  foaming  with  rage 
around  the  cross,  and  glutting  their  savage 
souls  with  his  barbarous  sufierings  ;  and  by 
the  horror  of  the  causes  that  contributed  to 
his  death,  judge  of  the  death  itself 

Go  to  the  infidel,  and  let  him  teach  you  the 
dignity  of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ.  Remember 
on^this  account  he  attacks  Christianity,  and 
he  has  some  shov/  of  reason  for  doing  so ; 
for  if  this  religion  maybe  attacked  on  any 
.lidc.  with  the  least  hope  of  .success,   it  is  on 


280 


THE  WORTH  OF  THE  SOUL. 


[Ser.  XXX. 


this.  The  truths  of  the  Christian  reUgion 
arc  incontostahle  :  but  if  there  be  any  one 
article  of  tlic  gospel,  which  rcquire.<i  an  en- 
tire docility  of  mind,  an  absolute  submission 
of  heart,  a  perfect  deference  to  God,  who 
speaks,  it  is  tlie  article  of  the  sacrifice  of  the 
cross.  Weigh  the  objections,  and,  by  the 
greatnesp  of  the  difficulties  judge  ot  the  dig- 
nity of  the  mystery. 

Recollect,  Christian !  God  thought  fit  to 
require  the  blood  of  his  Son  for  the  redemp- 
tion of  our  souls.  These  souls  must  have 
been  very  precious  in  the  sight  of  God,  since 
he  redeemed  them  at  a  price  so  immense. 
The  misery  into  which  they  were  liable  to  be 
plunged,  must  have  been  extremely  terrible, 
since  God  thought  proper  to  make  such 
great  efforts  to  save  them.  The  felicity  of 
v.'hich  they  are  capable,  and  to  which  the 
Lord  intends  to  elevate  them,  must  be  infi- 
nitely valuable,  since  it  cost  him  so  much  to 
bring  them  to  it.  For  what  in  the  universe 
is  of  equal  value  with  the  blood  of  the  Son  of 
God .'  Disappear  all  3'e  other  miracles, 
wrought  in  favour  of  our  souls!  ye  astonish- 
ing prodigies,  that  confirmed  the  gospel  ! 
tiiou  delay  of  the  consummation  of  all  tilings  ! 
ye  great  and  terrible  signs  of  the  second 
coming  of  the  Son  of  God  !  Vanish  before 
the  miracle  of  the  cross,  for  the  cross  shmes 
you  all  into  darkness  and  shade.  This  glo- 
rious light  makes  your  glimmering  vanish, 
and  after  my  imagination  is  filled  with  the 
tremendous  dignity  of  this  sacrifice,  I  can 
see  nothing  great  besides.  But,  if  God,  if 
this  just  appraiser  of  things,  has  estimated 
our  souls  at  such  a  rate,  shall  we  set  a  low 
price  on  them  .''  If  he  has  given  so  much  for 
tK^m,  do  we  imagine  we  can  give  too  much 
for  them  ?  If,  for  their  redemption,  he  has 
sacrificed  the  most  valuable  person  in  heaven, 
do  we  imagine  there  is  any  thing  upon  earth 
too  great  to  give  uj)  for  them  ? 

No,  uo,  my  bretljren  !  after  what  wc  have 
heard,  we  ought  to  believe,  that  there  is 
110  shadow  of  exaggeration  in  this  exclama- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ, '  What  is  a  man  profited, 
if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his 
own  soul  I'  I  do  not  certainly  know  what  our 
Saviour  meant  to  say,  whether  he  intended 
to  speak  of  a  man,  who  should  'gain  the 
whole  world,'  and  instantly  '  lose  his  soul;' 
or  of  one  who  should  not  '  lose  his  soul'  till 
long  after  he  had  obtained  '  the  whole  world,' 
and  had  reigned  over  it  tiirough  the  course  of 
a  long  life.  But  I  do  know  that  the  words 
are  true,  even  in  the  most  extensive  sense. 
Suppose  a  man,  who  should  not  only  enjoy 
universal  empire  for  one  whole  age,  but  for  a 
period  equal  lo  the  duration  of  the  world 
itself,  the  proposition  that  is  implied  in  the 
words  of  Jesus  Christ  is  applicable  to  him. 
•Such  a  soul  as  wc  have  described,  a  soul  so 
excellent  in  its  nature,  so  extensive  in  its 
duration,  so  precious  through  its  redemption  ; 
a  soul  capable  of  acquiring  so  nnich  know- 
ledge, of  conceiving  so  many  desires,  of  ex- 
periencing so  much  remorse,  oi"  Ibeling  so 
many  pleasures  and  pains  ,  a  soul  that  must 
subsist  l)eyond  all  time,  and  perpetuate  itself 
to  eternity  ;  a  soul  redeemed  by  the  blood  ol 
liic  Son  of  God  ;  a  soul  so  valuable  ought  to 
be  ijrcfcncd  bcR>rc  all  things,  and  nothing  is 


too  precious  to  be  given  for  its  exchange. 
'  What  is  a  man  profited,  if  he  shall  gain  the 
whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  or,  what 
shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul .' 

However,  my  brethren,  we  are  willing  to 
acknowledge,  were  we  in  the  case  supposed 
by  Jesus  Christ ;  were  it  in  our  power  to 
gain  the  whole  world  by  losing  our  own  souls  ; 
or,  being  actually  universal  monarchs,  were 
we  obliged  to  sacrifice  this  vast  empire  to  re- 
cover our  souls  already  lost ;  were  we,  being 
smitten  with  the  splendid  offer,  or  being 
alarmed  at  ttie  immense  price  of  our  purchase, 
to  prefer  the  whole  world  before  our  souls, 
we  might  then,  if  not  exculpate  our  conduct, 
yet  at  least  give  a  little  colour  to  it :  if  we 
could  not  gain  our  cause,  we  might  however, 
plead  it  with  some  show  ot  reason.  A  reason 
of  state,  a  political  motive,  as  that  of  govern- 
ing a  whole  universe,  would  naturally  have 
some  influence  over  us.  The  titles  of  sover- 
reign,  monarch,  emperor,  would  naturally 
charm  little  souls  like  ours  Sumptuous  pa- 
laces, superb  equipages,  a  crowd  of  devoted 
courtiers,  bowing  and  cringing  before  us,  and 
all  that  exterior  grandeur  which  environs 
the  princes  of  the  earth,  would  naturally  fas- 
cinate such  feeble  eyes,  and  infatuate  such 
puerile  imaginations  as  ours.  I  repeat  it 
again,  could  we  obtain  the  government  of 
the  universe  by  the  sale  of  our  souls,  if  we 
could  not  justify  our  conduct  we  might  ex- 
tenuate the  guilt  of  it ;  and  although  we  could 
not  gain  our  cause,  we  might  at  least  plead 
it  with  some  show  ot  reason. 

But  is  this  our  case  .''  Is  it  in  our  power  to 
•gain  the  whole  world?'  Is  this  the  price  at 
which  we  sell  our  souls.''  O  shame  of  human 
nature  !  O  meanness  of  soul,  more  proper  to 
confound  us  than  any  thing  else,  with  which 
we  can  be  reproached  I  This  intelligent  soul, 
this  immortal  soul,  this  soul  which  has  been 
thought  worthy  of  redemption  by  the  blood 
of  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  this  soul  we  of- 
ten part  with  for  nothing,  and  for  less  than 
nothing  !  In  our  condition,  placed  as  most  of 
us  are,  in  a  state  of  mediocrity  ;  when  by 
dissipation  and  indolence,  by  injustice  and 
iniquity,  by  malice  and  obstinacy,  we  shall 
have  procured  from  vice  all  the  rewards  that 
we  can  expect,  what  shall  wc  have  gained  .- 
cities.''  provinces.''  kingdoms^  a  long  and 
prosperous  reign  ?  God  has  not  left  these  to 
our  choice.  His  love  would  not  suffer  him  to 
expose  us  to  a  temptation  so  violent.  Ac- 
cordingly we  put  up  our  souls  at  a  lower 
price.  See  this  old  man,  rather  dead  than 
alive,  bowing  under  his  age,  stooping  down, 
and  stepping  into  the  grave,  at  what  price 
does  he  exchange  his  soul .'  at  the  price  of 
a  few  days  of  a  dying  life  ;  a  few  pleasures 
smothered  under  a  pile  of  years,  if  I  may 
speak  so,  or  buried  under  the  ice  of  old  age. 
That  oliicer  in  the  army,  who  thinks  he  alone 
understands  real  grandeur,  at  what  rate  does 
he  value  his  soul)  He  loses  it  for  the  sake 
of  the  false  glory  of  swearing  expertly,  and 
of  uniting  blasphemy  and  politeness.  What 
docs  yon  mechanic  get  for  his  soul .'  One 
acre  of  land,  a  cottage  bigger  and  less  in- 
convenient than  that  of  his  neighbour. 

li  nmanly  wretches  !  If  we  be  bent  on 
renouncing   our  dignity,    let    us,,   however, 


Sek.  XXXI.] 


REAL  LIJBERTi-. 


281 


keep  up  some  appearance  of  greatness.    Sor- 
did souls  !  if  we  will  resign  our  noblest  pre- 
tensions,   let  us   do   it,  in    favour   of  some 
other  pretensions  that  are  real.     '  Bo  aston- 
ished, O    3-0    heavens  at    this!     and  be    ye 
horribly  afraid  ;  for  my  people  have  commit- 
ted two   evils  :  they  have    forsaken  nic  the 
fountain  of  living  waters,  and  hewed  them 
out  cisterns,  broken  cisterns,  that  can  hold 
no   water,'     Jer.  ii.   12.     Do   you    perceive, 
my  brethren,    the   force    of  tliis    complaint, 
which  God   anciently  uttered   over  his  peo- 
ple the  Jews,  and  which  he   now  utters  over 
us .''     Neither  genius  nor   erudition   can  ex- 
plain it.    Could  they,  you  might  perhaps  un- 
derstand it.     A    certain  elevation,  a  certain 
dignity  of  soul,  singular  sentiments  of  heart. 
are    the    only   expositors   of  tliese   affecting ; 
v/ords.  Therefore,  I  fear,  they  are  unintelligi-  | 
hie  to  most  of  you.     'Be   astonished,  O   ye  j 
heavens,  at  this  !     and  be  ye  horribly  afraid  ; ' 
for  my    people  have    committed    two    evils :  j 
they  have  forsaken  me  the  fountain  of  living 
waters,  and  hewed  them   out  cisterns,  bro- 1 
ken  cisterns,  that  can  hold  no  water.'     God  i 
loves  us,  he  desires  we  should  love  him.     lie 
has  done  every   thing  to  conciliate  our  es- ; 
teem.      For   us  he  sent    his   Son    into    the  i 
world.     For  us  he  disarmed  death.     For  us  ' 
]ie  opened  an  easy  path  to  a  glorious  eternity. 
And  all  this  to  render  himself  master  of  our 
hearts,  and  to  engage  us  to  return  him  love 
for  love,  life  for  life.     We  resist  all  these  at- 
tractives,  we  prefer  other  objects  before  him. 
No  matter,  he   would  pass  this  ingratitude, 
if  the  objects,  which   we  prefer  before  liini, 
■were  capable    of  making    us   happy  ;  if,    at 
least,  they  bore  any  apparent   proportion  to 
those  whicli  he  offers  to  our  hopes.  But  what 
arsuses  his    displeasure,  what  provokes   his 
just    indignation,    what  excites    reproaches 
that  would  cleave  our  hearts  asunder,  were 
they  capable  of  feeling,  is  the  vanity  of  the 
objects,  whicl)  we    prefer  botore  him.     Tlie 
Boul,  in  exchange  for  which  tlie  whole  world 
fl'ould  not  bo  a  sufhcient  consideration,  this 


soul  we  often  give  for  the  most  mean,  the 
most  vile,  the  most  contemptible  part  of  the 
world.  '  O  ye  heavens !  be  astonished  at 
this,  at  this  be  ye  horribly  afraid  ;  for  my 
people  have  committed  two  evils  :  they  have 
forsaken  me  the  fountain  of  living  waters, 
and  hewed  them  out  cisterns,  broken  cis- 
terns, that  can  hold  no  water.' 

But  do  we  know,  ungrateful  that  we  are, 
do  we  know,  that  if.the  hardness  of  our 
hearts  prevents  our  feeling  in  particular  the 
energy  of  this  reproof,  and  in  general  the 
evidence  of  the  reflections,  that  make  the 
substance  of  this  discourse ;  do  we  know 
that  a  day  will  come,  when  we  shall  feel 
them  in  all  their  force  .'  Do  we  know,  that 
there  is  now  a  place,  where  the  truth  of  our 
text  appears  in  a  clear,  but  a  terrible  light  ^ 
Yes,  my  brethren,  this  reflection  is  perhaps 
essential  to  our  discourse,  this,  perhaps,  ap- 
proaches nearest  to  the  meaning  of  Jesus 
Christ ;  perhaps  Jesus  Christ,  in  these  words, 
'  What  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his 
soul .'  meant  to  inform  us  of  the  disposition 
of  a  man  in  despair,  who,  immersed  in  all 
the  miseries,  that  can  excruciate  a  soul,  sur- 
prised at  having  parted  with  such  a  soul,  at  a 
price  so  small,  stricken  with  the  enormous 
crime  of  losing  it,  wishes,  hut  too  late,  to 
give  every  thing  to  recover  it. 

Ideas  like  these  we  never  propose  to  yoti 
without  reluctance.  Motives  of  another 
kind  should  suffice  for  Christians.  Learn  the 
worth  of  your  souls.  Enter  into  the  plan  of 
your  Creator,  who  created  them  capable  of 
eternal  felicity  ;  and  into  that  of  your  Re- 
deemer, who  died  to  enable  you  to  ai  rive  at  it. 
Against  all  the  deceitful  premises,  which  the 
world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  use  to  seduce 
you,  oppose  these  words  of  Jesus  Christ, 
'  What  is  a  man  profited,  if  he  gain  the 
whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul?  Or 
what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his 
soul  .■"  May  God  inspire  you  with  these  no- 
ble sentiments  I  To  hini  be  honour  and  srlory 
for  ever.  Amen. 


J^EMMON  XXXI. 


REAL  LIBERTY 


John  viii.  2G. 


If  the  Son  therefore  shall  make  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed. 


JtIY  brethren  there  were  many  mysteries 
in  the  Jewish  feast  of  the  Jubilee.  It  was  a 
joyful  festival  to  the  whole  nation  :  but  none 
celebrated  it  with  higher  transport  than 
slaves.  No  condition  could  be  more  deplora- 
ble than  that  of  these  unhapp}'  people,  and, 
notwithstanding  the  lenities,  that  the  Jew- 
ish jurisprudence  mixed  with  their  suffer- 
ings, their  condition  was  always  considered 
a  s  the  most  miserable,  to  which  men  can  be 


reduced.  Tlie  jubilee  day  was  a  day  of  uni- 
versal enfranchisement.  All  slaves,  even 
they,  who  had  refused  to  embrace  the  pri- 
vileges of  the  sabbatical  year,  their  wives, 
and  their  children,  were   set  at  liberty. 

Should  I  affirm,  my  brethren,  that  no  slave 
among  them  had  more  interest  in  this  festi- 
val than  you  have,  perhaps  you  would  ex- 
claim against  my  proposition.  Probably,  you 
would  say  to  me,  as  some   of  them  said  to 


2S2 


REAL  LIBERTY. 


[Sek.  XXXL 


Jesus  Christ,  '  We  were  never  in  bondarre 
to  any  man.'  But  undeceive  yourselves.  The 
jubilee  was  instituted,  not  only  to  moderate 
the  authority  of  masters,  and  to  comfort 
slaves,  but  God  had  greater  designs  in  ap- 
pointing it.  Hear  the  mystical  design  of 
it.  '  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  God  is  upon 
me,  because  the  Lord  hath  anointed  me  to 
preach  good  tidings  unto  tlie  meek,  to  pro- 
claim liberty  to  the  captives,  to  proclaim  the 
acceptable  year  of  the  Lord,'  Isa.  l.xi.  1,  2. 
Who  speaks  in  this  prophecy  of  Isaiah  .''  Had 
not  Jesus  Christ  answered  this  question  in 
the  synagogue  at  Nazareth,  ye  sheep  of  the 
'chief  shepherd  and  bishop  of  your  souls!' 
should  ye  not  have  known  his  voice  ? 

Come,  ray  brethren,  come,  behold  to-day 
with  what  precise  accuracy,  or  rather,  with 
what  pomp  and  majesty  he  has  fulfilled  this 
prophecy,  and  broken  your  chains  in  pieces. 
Do  not  disdain  to  follow  the  reflections  we 
are  going  to  make  on  these  words,  which 
proceeded  from  his  sacred  mouth,  '  If  the  son 
make  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed.'  O 
may  this  language  inspire  us  witii  tlie  noble 
ambition  of  terminating  our  slavery  !  Maj' 
slaves  of  prejudice,  of  passion,  and  of  death, 
quit  their  shameful  bonds,  enjoy  '  the  accep- 
table year  of  the  Lord,'  and  partake  of  '  the 
glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God!' 
Amen.     Rom.  viii.  21. 

'If  the  Son  shall  make  you  free,  ye  shall 
he  free  indeed.'  In  order  to  explain  these 
words,  it  will  be  necessary  to  relate  the  oc- 
casion of  them,  and  to  e.xplain,  at  least 
in  part,  the  discourse,  from  which  they  are 
taken. 

'Jesus  Christ  spoke  these  words  in  the 
treasury,'  ver.  20,  that  is  to  say,  in  a  court 
of  the  temple,  whicii  v.'as  called  the  '  wo- 
man's porch,'  because  women  were  allowed 
to  enter  it.  This  court  was  also  called  '  the 
treasury,' because  it  contained  thirteen  tubes 
like  trumpets  for  the  reception  of  public 
contributions.  Jesus  Christ  is  supposed  to 
allude  to  the  form  of  these,  when  he  says, 
'  When  thou  doest  thine  alms,  do  not  sound  a 
trumpet  before  thee,'  Matt.  vi.  2.  Each  of 
these  tubes  had  a  different  inscri])tion  on  it, 
.^ccording  to  t])e  diil'orent  contributions,  for 
the  reception  of  which  they  were  placed,  ci- 
ther charital)le  contributions  for  the  relief 
of  the  poor,  or  votive  for  the  discharge  of  a 
vow,  or  such  as  were  prescribed  by  some 
particular  law.  In  tliis  court  sat  Jesus  Christ 
observing  what  each  gave  to  the  poor.  In  this 
place  he  absolved  a  woman  cauglit  in  adul- 
tery and  confounded  her  accuser,  whoso  great 
zeal  against  her  was  excited  more  by  the 
barbarous  desire  of  shedding  the  blood  of 
the  criminal,  than  b}'  the  horror  of  the 
crime.  To  punish  those  vices  in  others,  of 
wliich  the  punisher  is  guilty,  is  a  disposition 
equally  opposite  to  benevolence  and  equity. 
It  was  a  received  opinion  among  the  Jews, 
that  the  waters  of  jealousy  had  no  effect  on 
an  adulterous  wife,  whose  husband  h,T.d  been 
guilty  of  the  same  crime.  Jesus  < 'hrist  per- 
haps referred  to  this  opinion,  when  he  said 
to  the  Pharisees,  '  He  that  is  witliout  sin 
among  you,  let  him  first  cast  a  stone  at  her,' 
ver.  7. 

I  suppose   this  woman  not  to   have  been 


j  one    of   those    who    live    in    open  adultery, 
who  know  not   what  it  is  to  blush,  who  not 
only  commit  this  crime,  but  even  glory  in 
it.     I  suppose  her  a  penitent,  and  that  senti- 
inents  of  true  repentance  acquired  her  the 
protection  of  him,  who  '  came  not  to  call  the 
righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance,'  Matt. 
ix.  13.     Yet  the  indulgence  of  our   Saviour 
seemed  to  be   a   subversion   of  that  law  of 
Moses,  which  condemned  tliem  to  death  who 
were    guilty  of  adultery.      (Levit.    xx.   10; 
Dcut.    xxii.    22.)       Nothing    could    be    less 
likely  to  conciliate  the  minds  of  the  Jews  to 
Jesus  Christ,  than   the  infraction  of  a  reli- 
gion,  the   origin    of  which   was  divine,  and 
which    no    person   could    alter   without   in- 
curring   the    most   rigorous    penalties ;    '  ye 
shall  not  add  unto  the  word  .winch  I  command 
you,'  said  the  Supreme  Legislator,  '  neither 
shall  ye  diminish  aught  from  it,'  Deut.  iv.  2. 
'  To  the  law  and  to  the  testimony  :  if  thej' 
speak  not  according  to  this  word,  it  is  be- 
cause there  is  no  light  in  them,'  Isa.  viii.  20. 
Accordingly  we    find,   one  of  the  most  spe- 
cious accusations,    that   was    ever  invented 
against    Jesus    Christ,  and  one    of  the  most 
pardonable  scruples,  which  some  devout  souls 
!  had  about  following  him,  arose  from  this  con- 
sideration, that  on  some  occasions  he  had  re- 
,  laxed  those  laws,  which  no  mortal  had  a  right 
j  to  alter  ;  '  this  man'  is  not  of  God,  said  some, 
'  because  he  keepeth  not  the  sabbath-day,' 
John  ix.  IG. 
I      TJiis  conduct  certainly  required  an  apolo- 
!  gy.     Jesus  Christ  must  needs  justify  a  right 
:  which  he   claimed,  but  which  no  man  before 
I  him   had  attempted    to   claim.     This  is  the 
[  true  clew  of  the  discourse,  from  which  our 
\  text    is   taken.     Jesus    Christ  tliere  proves, 
that  he    is    tlie   supreme  lawgiver,   that  al- 
though the  eternal  laws  of  right  and  wrong, 
'  which  proceeded  from   him,  are  invariable, 
yet  the   positive  institutes  that  depended  on 
the    will  of  the   legislator,    and   derived   all 
their  authority  from   his  revealed  command, 
I  might  be  continued  or  abrogated  at  his  plcen- 
sure.     He  tiiere   demonstrates  of  the  whole 
!  Levitical    ritual,  what   he   elsewhere  said  of 
i  one   part  of  it,  '  the  Son  oi  man  is  Lord  of 
j  the  Sabbath,'  Matt.  xii.  8. 

He  begins  his  discourse  in  this  manner,  '  I 
!  am  the  lio-ht  of  the  world.'  In  the  style  of 
the  Jews,  and,  to  say  more,  in  the  style  of 
the  inspired  writers,  liirht,  by  excellence. 
'  Son  of  God,  Word  of  God,  God's  Sheki- 
nah,'  as  the  Jews  speak,  that  is  to  say,  '  the 
habitation  of  God'  among  men,  Deity  itself', 
are  synonymous  terms.  Witness,  among 
many  other  proofs,  the  majestic  frontis- 
piece of  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  the  magni- 
ficent titles  whicli  he  gives  the  adorable  jicr- 
sonage  of  whom  he  writes.  '  In  the  begin- 
ning was  tlie  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with 
God,  and  the  Word  was  God.  All  things 
were  made  |)y  him,  and  without  him  was  not 
any  thing  made,  that  was  made.  In  him  wss 
life,  and  the  life  was  the  light  of  men.  The 
Word  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us,' 
us,'  John  i.  1,  &c.  Remark  these  words, 
'  dwelt  among  us ;"  the  phrase  alludes  to 
the  Shechinah,  which  many  Jewish  Rabbins 
say,  was  the  Messiah. 

What  Jesu.'!  Christ  aflirms  being  granted, 


Ser.  XXXl.j 


HEAL  LlBEllTi'. 


283 


that  is,  that  he  was  •  the  hght'  by  excellence, 
no  apology  is  needful ;  for  he  had  a  right  to 
absolve  a  woman,  wliom  Moses,  by  the  order 
of  God,  had  condenuied  to  die.  The  autho- 
rity of  inferior  judges  is  limited  to  the  execu- 
tion of  those  laws,  which  tLe  supreme  legis- 
lator appoints.  Sovereign  princes  have  re- 
served the  prerogative  of  showing  mercy. 
The  Pharisees  foresaw  the  consequences  of 
admitting  the  title  that  he  claimed,  and  there- 
lore  they  disputed  his  right  to  claim  it;  'Thou 
bearest  record  of  thyself,'  say  they,  '  thy  re- 
cord is  not  true,'  chap.  viii.  22. 

This  objection  would  naturally'  arise  in  the 
7iiind.  It  seems  to  be  founded  on  this  incon- 
testable principle,  no  envoy  from  heaven,  the 
Messiah  Jiimself  not  excepted,  has  a  right  to 
require  submission  to  his  decisions,  unless  he 
give  proofs  of  his  mission.  All  implicit  faith 
in  men,  who  have  not  received  divine  cre- 
dentials, or  who  refuse  to  produce  them,  is 
not  faith,  but  puerile  credulity,  gross  super- 
stition. 

But  the  Pharisees,  who  made  this  objec- 
tion, did  not  make  it  for  the  sake  of  obtain- 
ing evidence,  and  Jesus  Christ  reproves  them 
tor  this  duplicity.  If  you  continue  in  doubt 
of  my  mission,  said  he  to  them,  it  is  your 
own  fault,  your  infidelity  can  only  proceed 
from  your  criminal  passions,  '  Ye  judge  af- 
ter the  flesh,'  ver.  15.  If  you  would  suspend 
these  passions,  you  would  soon  perceive, 
that  the  holiness  of  my  life  gives  me  a 
right  to  bear  witness  in  ray  own  cause  ;  for 
^  which  of  you  convinceth  me  of  sin.'"  ver. 
46.  You  would  soon  see,  that  my  testimony 
is  confirmed  by  that  of  my  Father,  who, 
when  he  sent  me  into  the  world,  armed  nie 
with  his  omnipotence,  which  displays  itself 
in  my  miracles.  'He  that  sent  me  is  with  me, 
the  Father  hath  not  left  me  alone,'  ver.  2i:'. 
But  the  hatred  you  bear  to  me  prevents  your 
seeing  the  attributes  of  my  Father  in  me, 
'  Ye  neither  know  me  nor  my  Father,'  ver. 
19.  However,  I  will  not  yet  justify  my  mis- 
sion by  inflicting  those  punishments  on 
you  which  your  obstinacy  deserves,  '  1  judge 
no  man;'  nor  will  I  perform  the  office  of  a 
judge,  till  I  have  finished  that  of  a  Redeemer. 
When  you  have  filled  up  the  measxire  of 
your  sins,  by  obtaining  a  decree  for  mj'  cru- 
cifixion, 3'ou  shall  be  forced  to  acknowledge, 
under  that  iron  rod,  which  the  Father  has 
given  to  me  to  destroy  my  enemies,  the  divi- 
nity of  a  mission,  that  your  wilful  obstinacy 
now  disputes,  '  when  ye  have  lilled  up  the 
Son  of  man,  then  shall  ye  know  that  1  am 
he,'  ver  28. 

Arguments  so  powerful,  threatenings  so 
terrible,  made  deep  impressions  on  the  minds 
of  some  of  our  Lord's  hearers,  and  to  them, 
who  felt  the  force  of  what  was  said,  Jesus 
Christ  added,  '  If  ye  continue  in  my  word, 
then  are  ye  my  disciples  indeed  ;  and  ye  shall 
know  the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall  make 
you  free,'  ver.  31. 

I  suppose,  among  the  people,  to  whom 
these  words  were  addressed,  were  some  of 
the  disciples  of  Judas  of  Gaulon,  a  city  of 
Galilee,  who  for  this  reason  was  called  Judas 
the  Gaulonite.  These  seditious  people  sup- 
posed, that  in  order  to  be  a  good  Jew,  it  was 
necessary  to  be  a  bad  subject  of  the  empe- 


ror. They  were  always  ripe  for  rebellion 
against  the  Romans,  and  they  reproached 
those  of  their  countrymen,  who  quietly  sub- 
mitted to  these  tyrants  of  mankind,  with 
degeneration  from  the  noble  spirit  of  their 
ancestors.  This  opinion,  I  think,  places 
their  answer  to  Jesus  Christ  in  the  clearest 
light.  '  We  are,'  say  they,  '  Abraham's 
seed,  and  were  never  in  bondage  to  any 
man :  how  sayest  thou,  Ye  shall  be  made 
free .'"  ver.  33.  Had  they  spoken  of  the 
whole  nation,  how  durst  they  have  affiim- 
ed,  afi,er  the  well  known  subjection  of  their 
country  to  so  many  different  conquerors,  'We 
were  never  in  bondage  to  any  man .'"' 

Jesus  turned  their  attention  from  tlie  lite- 
ral to  the  spiritual  meaning  of  his  promise. 
He  told  them,  there  were  bonds  more  shame- 
ful than  those  which  Pharaoh  and  Nebuchad- 
nezzar had  formerly  put  on  their  fathers, 
more  humiliating  than  those  to  which  the 
Romans  obliged  the  nation  at  the  time  of  his 
speaking  to  submit ;  bonds,  with  which  sin 
loaded  its  slaves,  chains,  which  they  them- 
selves actually  wore,  while  they  imagined 
they  were  free  ;  '  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  Whosoever  committeth  sin  is  the  ser- 
vant of  sin,'  ver.  34.  Jesus  Christ  intended 
to  inform  them,  that  although  God  had  pa- 
tiently treated  them  to  that  time  as  his 
children  in  his  church,  he  would  shortly  ex- 
pel them  as  slaves,  and  deal  with  them  not 
as  the  legitimate  children  of  Abraham,  but 
as  the  sons  of  Hagar,  of  whom  it  had  been 
said,  as  St.  Paul  remarks,  '  Cast  out  the 
bond-woman  and  her  son  ;  for  the  son  of  the 
bond-woman  sliall  not  be  heir  with  the  son  of 
the  free-woman,'   Gal.  iv.  30. 

But  while  he  undeceived  them  concerning 
that  imaginary  liberty,  which  they  flattered 
themselves  they  enjoyed,  he  announced  real 
liberty  to  tjiem,  and  after  he  had  given  thorn 
most  mortifying  ideas  of  tlieir  condition,  he 
declared,  that  he  alone  could  free  them  from 
it;  this  is  tlie  sense  of  my  text,  'If  the 
Son  therefore  shall  make  you  free,  ye  shall 
be  free  indeed.'  Some  interpreters  think, 
there  is  in  these  words  an  illusion  to  a  cus- 
tom among  the  Greeks  with  whom  a  pre- 
sumptive heir  had  right  of  adopting  breth» 
ren,  and  of  freeing  slaves. 

1  will  neither  undertake  to  prove  tiie  fact, 
nor  the  consequence  inferred  from  it:  but  it 
is  clear,  that  tlic  title  of  So7i  by  excellence, 
which  Jesus  Christ  claims  in  this  place,  en- 
tirely corresponds  with  the  end  that  I  have 
assigned  to  this  whole  discourse,  that  is,  to 
justify  that  pre-eminence  over  Moses,  which 
he  had  assumed  ;  and  to  prove  that  he  might 
without  usurpation,  or,  as  St.  Paul  expresses 
it,  without  '  thinking  it  robbery,'  Phil.  ii.  6, 
act  as  supreme  legislator,  and  pardon  a  wo- 
man whom  the  law  of  Moses  condemned  to 
die.  A  passage  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 
will  confirm  this  sense  of  our  text.  Jesus 
Christ,  '  was  counted  worthy  of  more  glory 
than  Moses,  inasmuch  as  he  who  hath  builded 
the  house,  has  more  honour  than  the  house. 
He  that  built  all  things,  is  God.  Moses  was 
faithful  in  all  his  house  as  a  servant.  But 
<.^hrist  as  a  son  over  his  own  house,'  Heb.  iii 
4,  4,  &c.  This  is  the  Son  by  excellence,  the 
.S'07«,  of  whom  it  was  said,  when  he  carae  into 


284 


REAL  LIBERTY. 


[Ser.  XXXL 


the  world, '  Let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship 
him,'  chap.  i.  C.  This  Son,  this  God,  who 
'  built  the  house ; '  this  Son,  this  God,  who  is 
the  maker  and  Lord  of  all  things  ;  this  is  he 
to  whom  alone  it  appertains  to  free  us  from 
the  dominion  of  sin,  and  to  put  us  in  posses- 
sion of  true  and  real  liberty.  '  If  the  Son 
therefore  shall  make  you  free,  ye  shall  be 
liree  indeed.' 

Here  let  us  finish  this  analysis,  and  let  me 
hope,  that  its  utility  will  sufficiently  apolo- 
gize for  its  length,  and  let  us  employ  our 
remaining  time  m  attending  to  reflections  of 
another  kind,  by  which  we  shall  more  fally 
enter  into  the  views  of  our  blessed  Saviour. 

I.  I  will  endeavour  to  give  you  a  distinct 
idea  of  liberty. 

II.  I  shall  prove  that  liberty  is  incompati- 
ble with  sin,  and  that  a  sinner  is  a  real  slave. 

III.  I  shall  lead  you  to  the  great  Redeemer 
of  sinners,  and  I  shall  prove  the  proposition; 
which  I  have  chosen  for  my  text,  '  If  the  Son 
shall  make  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free  indeed.' 

I.  What  is  Liberty  ?  Liberty,  I  tJiink,  may 
lie  considered  in  five  difl:erenL  points  of  view. 
The  first  regards  the  understanding.  The 
second  respects  the  will.  The  tJiird  relates 
to  the  conscience.  The  fourth  belongs  to 
tiie  conduct,  and  the  fifth  to  the  condition. 

1.  The  liberty  of  man  in  regard  to  his  un- 
derstanding consists  in  a  power  of  suspending 
his  judgment,  till  he  has  considered  any  ob- 
ject in  contemplation  on  every  side,  so  that 
he  may  yield  only  to  evidence.  A  suspension 
of  judgment  is  a  power  adapted  to  the  limited 
sphere,  in  which  finite  creatures  are  confined. 
God,  who  is  an  infinite  Spirit,  has  not  this 
kind  of  liberty  ;  it  is  incompatible  with  the 
eminence  of  his  perfections  ;  the  ideas  which 
he  had  of  creatures  before  their  existence, 
Avere  tlie  models  according  to  which  they 
were  created.  He  perceives  at  once  all  ob- 
jects in  every  point  of  view.  He  sees  the 
whole  with  evidence,  and,  as  evidence  carries 
consent  along  with  it,  he  is  gloriously  incapa- 
ble of  doubt,  and  of  suspending  his  judgment. 
It  is  not  so  with  finite  minds,  particularly 
with  minds  so  limited  as  ours.  We  hardly 
know  any  thing,  we  are  hardly  capable  of 
knowing  any  thing.  Our  very  desire  of  in- 
creasing knowledge,  if  we  be  not  very  cau- 
tious, will  lead  us  into  frequent  and  fatal 
mistakes,  by  hurr3'ing  us  to  determine  a  point 
before  we  have  well  examined  it ;  we  shall 
take  probability  for  demonstration,  a  spark 
lor  a  blaze,  an  appearance  for  a  reality.  A 
liberty  of  suspending  our  judgment  is  the 
only  mean  of  preventing  this  misfortune  ;  it 
does  not  secure  us  from  ignorance  :  but  it 
keeps  us  from  error.  While  I  enjoy  the  liber- 
ty of  aftlrming  only  that,  of  which  I  have  full 
i'.vidence,  I  enjoy  the  liberty  of  not  deceiving 
myself. 

Farther,  the  desire  of  knowing  is  one  of  the 
most  natural  desires  of  man,  and  one  of  the 
most  essential  to  his  happiness.  By  man  I 
mean  him  who  remains  human,  for  there  are 
some  men  who  have  renounced  humanity. 
There  are  men,  who,  like  brutes,  enclosed  in 
a  narrow  circle  of  sensations,  never  aspire  to 
improve  their  faculty  of  intelligence  any  far- 
ther, than  as  its  improvement  is  necessary  to 
the  sensual  enjoyment  nf  a  few  gross  gratifica- 


tions, in  which  all  their  felicity  is  contained. 
But  man  has  a  natural  avidity  of  extending 
the  sphere  of  his  knowledge.  I  think  God 
commanded  our  first  parents  to  restrain  this 
desire,  because  it  was  one  of  their  most  eager 
wishes.  Accordingly  the  most  dangerous  al- 
lurement that  Satan  used  to  withdraw  them 
from  their  obedience  to  God,  was  this  of  sci- 
ence ;  '  Ye  shall  be  as  gods,  knowing  good 
and  evil,'  Gen.  iii.  5.  The  state  of  innocence 
was  a  happy  state,  however  it  was  a  state  of 
trial,  to  the  perfection  of  which  something 
was  wanting.  In  every  dispensation,  God  so 
ordered  it,  that  man  sliould  arrive  at  the  chief 
good  by  way  of  sacrifice  of  that  which  man- 
kind holds  most  dear,  and  this  was  the  reason 
of  the  primitive  prohibition.  '  The  Loid  God 
said.  Of  every  tree  of  the  garden  thou  mayest 
freely  eat :  but  of  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil  thou  shalt  not  eat ;  for  in  the 
day  that  thou  eatest  thereof  thou  shalt  surely 
die.'  chap.  ii.  IG,  17.  1  presume,  had  man 
proj)erly  borne  this  trial,  he  would  have  been 
rewarded  with  that  privilege,  the  usurpation 
of  which  was  so  fatal  to  him. 

A  mind,  naturally  eager  to  obtain  know- 
ledge, is  not  really  free,  if  it  have  not  the 
liberty  of  touching  the  tree  of  knowledge, 
and  of  deriving  from  the  source  of  truth  au 
ability  to  judge  clearly,  particularly  of  those 
objects,  with  the  knowledge  of  which  its  hap- 
piness is  connected.  Without  this  the  gar- 
den of  Eden  could  not  satisfy  me  ;  without 
this  all  the  delicious  pleasures  of  that  blessed 
abode  would  leave  a  void  in  the  plan  of  mv 
felicity,  and  I  should  always  suspect,  that 
God  entertained  but  a  small  decree  of  love 
for  me,  because  he  reposed  no  confidence  in 
me.  This  idea  deserves  the  greater  regard,  be- 
cause it  is  an  idea,  that  Jesus  Christ  taught 
his  apostles,  '  Henceforth  I  call  j-ou  not  ser- 
vants ;  for  the  servant  knovi'eth  not  what  his 
Lord  doeth  :  but  I  have  called  you  friends ; 
for  all  things  that  I  have  heard  of  my  Father, 
I  have  made  known  unto  you,'  John  xv.  15. 

2.  I  call  that  volition  free,  which  is  in  per- 
fect harmony  loith  an  enlightened  nnderstand- 
ing,  in  opposition  to  that  which  is  under  the 
influence  of  irregular  passions  condemned  by 
the  understanding.  The  slavery  of  a  will 
that  has  not  the  liberty  of  following  what  the 
understanding  offers  to  it  as  advantageous, 
is  so  incompatible  with  our  notion  of  volition, 
that  some  doubt,  and  others  positively  den}-, 
the  possibility  of  such  a  bondage.  Not  to  de- 
cide this  question  at  present,  it  is  certain  one 
of  the  most  common  artifices  of  a  will  under 
the  influence  of  inordinate  affections  is  to  se- 
duce the  understanding,  and  to  engage  it  in 
a  kind  of  composition  with  it.  Any  truth 
considered  in  a  certain  point  of  view  may 
seem  a  falsehood,  as  any  lalsehood  in  a  cer- 
tain point  of  light  may  appear  a  truth.  The 
most  advantageous  condition,  considered  in 
some  relations,  will  appear  disadvantageous, 
•IS  the  most  inconvenient  will  seem  advanta- 
geous. A  will  under  the  influence  of  disor- 
derly desires  solicits  the  judgment  to  pres-ent 
the  evil  objects  of  its  wishes  in  a  light  in 
which  it  may  appear  good.  That  will  then  I 
call  fiee,  which  is  in  perfect  harmony  with 
an  enlightened  understanding,  following  it 
with  docilitv.  free  from  the  irrf^gular  desire 


Ser.  XXXI.] 


REAL  LIBERTY. 


of  blinding  its  guide,  I  mean  of  seducing  the 
judgment. 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  observed,  before  I 
entered  on  a  discussion  of  the  judgment  and 
the  will,  that  these  are  not  two  different  sub- 
jects ;  but  the  same  subject,  considered  under 
two  different  faces.  We  are  obliged,  in  order 
to  form  complete  ideas  of  the  human  soul,  to 
consider  its  divers  operations.  When  it 
r  thinks,  when  it  conceives,  when  it  draws  con- 

clusions, we  say  it  judges,  it  understands,  it 
is  the  understanding .-  when  it  fears,  when  it 
loves,  when  it  desires,  we  call  its  volition, 
will.  We  apply  to  this  subject  what  St. 
Paul  says  of  another, '  there  are  diversities  of 
operations :  but  it  is  the  same  spirit,'  1  Cor. 
xii.  6. 

3.  As  we  give  different  names  to  the  same 
spirit  on  account  of  its  different  operations,  so 
also  we  give  it  dil'i'erent  names  on  account  of 
different  objects  of  the  same  ooerations.  And 
as  we  call  the  soul  by  different  names,  when 
it  tliinks,  and  when  it  desires,  so  also  we 
give  it  different  names,  when  it  performs  ope- 
rations made  up  of  judging  and  desiring. 
What  we  call  conscience  verifies  this  remark. 
Conscience  is,  if  I  may  venture  to  speak  so, 
an  operation  of  the  soul  consisting'  of  volition 
and  intelligence.  Conscience  is  intelligence, 
judgment,  considering  an  object  as  just  or 
unjust ;  and  conscience  is  volition  inclining 
us  to  make  the  object  in  contemplation  an  ob- 
ject of  our  love  or  hatred,  of  our  desires  or 
fears. 

If  such  be  the  nature  of  conscience,  what 
we  have  affirmed  of  the  liberty  of  the  will  in 
general,  and  of  the  liberty  of  the  understand- 
ing in  general,  ought  to  determine  what  we 
are  to  understand  by  the  freedom  of  the 
conscience.  Conscience  is  free  in  regard  to  the 
understanding,  when  it  has  means  of  obtain- 
ing clear  ideas  of  the  justice  or  injustice  of  a 
case  before  it,  and  when  it  has  the  power  of 
suspending  its  decisions  on  a  case  until  it  has 
well  examined  it.  Conscience  is  free  in  re- 
gard to  the  will,  when  it  has  the  power  of 
following  what  appears  just,  and  of  avoiding 
every  thing  that  ap]>ears  contrary  to  the 
laws  of  equity.  Tliis  article,  we  hope,  is  suf- 
ficiently explained. 

4.  But  it  sometimes  happens,  that  our  will 
and  our  conscience  incline  us  to  objects, 
which  our  understandin'g  presents  to  them  as 
advantageous:  but  from  the  possession  of 
which  some  superior  powor  prevents  us.  A 
man  is  not  really  free,  unless  he  has  power 
over  his  senses  sufficient  to  make  them  obey 
the  dictates  of  a  cool  volition  directed  by  a 
clear  perception.  This  is  liberty  in  regard 
to  our  conduct. 

There  is  something  truly  astonishing  in 
that  composition,  which  we  call  man.  In 
him  we  see  a  union  of  two  s>ibbtances,  be- 
tween which  there  is  no  natural  relation,  at 
least  we  know  none,  I  mean  tiie  union  of  a 
spiritual  soul  with  a  material  body.  I  per- 
ceive, indeed,  a  natural  connexion  between 
the  divers  faculties  of  the  soul,  between  the 
faculty  of  thinking,  and  that  of  loving.  I  per- 
ceive indeed,  a  natural  connexion  between 
the  divers  properties  of  nature,  between  ex- 
tension and  divisibility,  and  so  of  the  rest.  I 
clearly  perceive,  that  because  an  intelligence 

3  O 


thinks,  it  rnust  love,  and  because  matter  is 
extended,  it  must  be  divisible,  and  so  on. 

But  what  relation  can  there  subsist  between 
a  little  particle  of  matter  and  an  immaterial 
spirit,  to  render  it  of  necessity,  that  every 
thought  of  this  spirit  nmst  instantly  excite 
some  emotion  in  this  particle  of  matter.^ 
And  how  is  it,  that  every  motion  of  this 
particle  of  matter  must  excite  some  idea, 
or  some  sensation,  in  this  spirit  ^  yet  this 
strange  union  of  body  and  spirit  constitutes 
man.  God,  say  some,  having  brought  into 
existence  a  creature  so  excellent  as  an  im- 
mortal soul,  lest  it  should  be  dazzled  with 
his  own  excellence,  united  it  to  dead  matter 
incapable  of  ideas  and  designs. 

I  dare  not  pretend  to  penetrate  into  the 
designs  of  an  infinite  God.  Much  less  would 
I  have  the  audacity  to  say  to  my  Creator, 
'  Why  hast  thou  made  me  thus  .''  Rom.  ix. 
20.  But  I  can  never  think  myself  free  while 
that  which  is  least  excellent  in  me,  govern.s 
that  part  of  me  which  is  most  excellent.  Ah  ! 
what  freedom  do  I  enjoy,  while  the  desires 
of  my  will,  guided  by  the  light  of  my  under- 
standing, cannot  give  law  to  my  body  ;  while 
my  senses  become  legislators  to  my  under- 
standing'knd  my  will .'' 

5.  It  only  remains,  in  order  to  form  a  clear 
notion  of  a  man  truly  free,  that  we  consider 
him  in  regard  to  his  condition,  that  is  to  say, 
whether  he  be  rich  or  poor,  enveloped  in  ob- 
scurity or  exposed  to  the  public  eye,  depress- 
ed with  sickness  or  regaled  with  health  ;  and 
in  like  manner  of  the  other  conditions  of 
life. 

I  do  not  think  that  any  man  is  really  free 
in  regard  to  his  condition,  unless  he  have  the 
liberty  of  choosing  that  kind  of  life,  which 
seems  the  most  advantageous  to  him.  Solo- 
mon was  free  in  this  respect,  when  he  had 
that  pleasing  dream,  in  wliich  God  presented 
all  the  blessings  of  this  world  to  his  view, 
and  gave  him  his  choice  of  all.  A  man,  on 
the  contrary,  is  a  slave,  when  circumstances 
confine  him  in  a  condition  contrary  to  his 
felicity,  when,  while  he  wishes  to  hve,  he  is 
forced  to  die,  when,  while  he  lingers  to  die, 
death  flees  from  him,  and  he  is  obliged  to  live. 
My  task  now  is  almost  finished,  at  least,  as 
well  as  I  can  finish  a  plan  so  extensive  in 
such  narrow  limits,  as  arc  prescribed  to  mc. 
My  first  point  explains  the  two  others  that 
follow.  Having  given  clear  ideas  of  liberty 
it  naturally  follows,  that  liberty  is  incompati- 
ble with  sin,  and  that  a  sinner  is  a  real  slave. 
A  slave  in  regard  to  his  understanding ;  a 
slave  in  regard  to  his  will ;  a  slave  in  regard 
to  his  conscience  ;  a  slave  in  regard  to  his 
conduct;  a  slave  in  regard  to  his  condition. 
A  small  knov;ledge  of  Christianity  is  sufiicient 
now  to  prove,  that  Jesus  Christ  alone  can 
terminate  these  various  slaveries,  he  only 
can  justify  the  proposition  in  the  text,  '  If 
the  Son  shall  make  you  free,  ye  shall  be  free 
indeed.' 

Is  a  sinner  free  in  his  understanding,  has 
he  the  liberty  of  suspending  his  judgment,  he 
whose  senses  alwaj's  confine  him  to  sensible 
objects,  and  always  divert  him  from  the  study 
of  truth?  Is  he  free  whose  understanding  is 
continually  solicited  by  an  irregular  will,  and 
by  a  depraved  coascieiicc;  to  disguise  the 


^86 


REAL  LIBERTY. 


[Ser.  XXXL 


truth  from  them,  to  give  them  false  notions 
of  just  and  unjust,  to  present  every  object  to 
them  in  that  point  of  view,  which  is  most 
proper  to  favour  their  irre;^ularity  and  cor- 
ruption? Can  he  be  called  free,  who  '  receiv- 
cth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  be- 
cause they  appear  foolishness  to  him  ?'  1  Cor. 
ii.  14.  "... 

Is  a  sinner  free  in  his  will,  and  in  his  con- 
science, he  who,  his  understanding  being 
seduced  by  them,  yields  to  whatever  they  re- 
♦juire,  judges  in  favour  of  tlie  most  frivolous 
decisions,  and  approves  tlie  most  extravagant 
projects  ;  can  such  a  man  be  called  free  .'' 

Is  a  sinner  free  in  his  conduct,  he  who 
finds  in  an  inflexibility  of  his  organs,  in  an 
impetuosity  of  his  humours,  in  an  irregular 
flow  of  his  spirits,  obstacles  sufficient  to  pre- 
vent him  from  following  the  decisions  of  his 
understanding,  the  resolutions  of  his  will,  the 
dictates  of  his  conscience  .■'  Is  he  free  in  his 
conduct,  who,  like  the  fabulous  or  perhaps 
the  real  Medea,  groans  under  the  arbitrary 
dominion  of  his  senses,  sees  and  approves  of 
the  best  things,  and  follows  the  worst .''  Is  the 
original  of  this  portrait,  drawn  by  the  hand 
of  an  apostle,  frf3e,  '  I  find  then  a  law,  that 
when  I  would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with 
me.  For  I  delight  in  the  law  of  God,  after 
the  inward  man  :  but  I  see  another  law  in 
my  members  warring  against  the  law  of  my 
mind,  and  bringing  me  into  captivity  to  the 
law  of  sin,  which  is  in  my  members  ?'  Is  he 
free  in  his  conduct,  whose  eyes  sparkle, 
wliosc  face  turns  pale,  whose  mouth  foams 
at  the  sight  of  a  man,  who  perhaps  may  have 
ofl'endcd  him  :  but  for  whose  offence  the  God 
of  love  demands  a  pardon  .'  Is  he  free  in  his 
conduct,  who,  whenever  he  sees  an  object 
fatal  to  his  innocence,  not  only  loses  a  power 
of  resistance,  and  a  liberty  of  flying  ;  but 
even  ceases  to  tliink,  has  hardly  courage  to 
call  in  the  aid  of  his  own  feeble  virtue,  forgets 
liis  resolutions,  his  prayers,  and  his  vows, 
and  plunges  into  disorders,  at  which  his  reason 
blushes,  even  while  he  immerses  himself  in 
them .'' 

O  how  necessary  to  us  is  the  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ !  how  fit  to  rectify  the  irregular- 
ities of  nature  I  how  needful  the  succours  of 
his  Holy  Spirit  to  lead  us  into  the  genius  of 
religion  I  '  If  tlie  Son  make  you  free,  ye  shall 
be  free  indeed.' 

'  If  the  Son  make  you  free,  you  shall  be 
free  indeed'  in  regard  to  your  understanding, 
because  Jesus  Christ  being  the  Angel  of  the 
divine  presence,  the  wisdom  tliat  conceives 
the  counsels  of  God,  and  the  word  that 
directs  them,  he  perfectly  knows  them,  and, 
when  he  pleases,  lie  reveals  thcin  to  others. 
By  that  universal  empire,  which  he  has  ac- 
quired by  his  prolbuiid  submission  to  the  will 
of  his  Father,  ho  will  calm  tliosc  senses, 
wiiich  divert  your  understanding  from  the 
study  of  truth,  and  precipitate  your  judgment 
into  error ;  he  will  direct  thy  will  not  to 
seduce  it;  and  will  forbid  thine  erroneous 
conscience  to  impose  its  illusions  upon  it. 

'  If  the  Son  make  you  free  you  will  be  free 
indeed'  in  your  will  and  conscience,  because 
your  understanding  directed  by  a  light  divine, 
will  regulate  the  maxims  that  guide  them, 
not  by  BuggeBlioiis  of  cojicupisccuce,   but  by 


invariable  laws  of  right  and  wrong  :  it  will 
present  to  them  (to  use  the  language  of 
Scripture,)  not,  '  bitter  for  sweet,  and  sweet 
for  bitter,'  not  '  good  for  evil,  and  evil  for 
good,'  Isa.  V.  20,  but  each  object  in  its  own 
true  point  of  light. 

'  If  the  Son  make  you  free,  you  shall  be 
free  indeed'  in  your  conduct,  because  by  the 
irresistible  aid  of  his  Spirit  he  will  give  you 
dominion  over  those  senses  to  which  you  have 
been  a  slave ;  because  his  Almighty  Spirit 
will  calm  your  humours,  attemper  your  blood, 
moderate  the  impetuosity  of  your  spirits, 
restore  to  your  soul  its  primitive  superiority, 
subject  your  constitution  entirely  to  your  rea- 
son, render  reason  by  a  supernatural  power 
lord  of  the  whole  man,  make  you  love  to  live 
by  its  dictates,  and  teach  you  to  say,  while 
you  yield  to  its  force, '  O  Lord,  thou  hast  al- 
lured me,  and  I  was  allured  ;  thou  art  stronger 
than  I.  and  hast  prevailed,'  Jer.  xx.  7. 

'  If  the  Son  make  you  free,  you  shall  be 
free  indeed'  in  all  your  actions  and  in  all 
your  faculties,  because  he  will  put  on  you 
an  easy  yoke,  that  will  terminate  your  sla- 
very, constitute  your  real  freedom,  render 
youacitizen  of 'Jerusalem  above,'  which  is  a 
free  city,  and  mother  of  all  the  sons  of  free- 
dom. Gal.  iv.  20. 

I  said  lastly,  a  sinner  is  a  slave  in  regard 
to  his  condition.  We  observed,  that  a  man 
was  not  free  in  regard  to  his  condition,  unless 
he  could  choose  that  kind  of  life,  which  seem- 
ed to  him  most  suitable  to  his  felicity.  And 
is  not  a  sinner,  think  you,  a  real  slave  in  this 
sense  ?  Indeed,  if  there  remain  in  him  any 
notion  of  true  felicity,  he  ought  to  give  him- 
self very  little  concern,  whether  he  spend  hits 
days  in  riches  or  poverty,  in  splendour  or 
obscurity  ;  for  the  duration  of  each  is  extreme- 
ly short.  These  things,  unless  we  be  entire- 
ly blind,  are  very  diminutive  objects,  even  in 
a  plan  of  sinful  earthly  pleasure.  But  to  be 
obliged  to  die,  when  there  are  numberless 
reasons  to  fear  death,  and  to  be  forced  to  hve, 
when  there  are  numberless  reasons  for  loath- 
ing life,  this  is  a  state  of  the  most  frightful 
slavery,  and  this  is  absolutely  the  slavish  state 
of  a  sinner. 

The  sinner  is  forced  to  die,  in  spite  of 
numberless  reasons  to  fear  death ;  he  is  in 
this  world  as  in  a  prison,  the  decorations  of 
wiiich  may  perhaps  beguile  him  into  an  inat» 
tention  to  his  real  condition  :  but  it  isa  prison, 
however,  which  he  must  quit,  as  soon  as  the 
moment  arrives,  which  the  supreme  legislator 
has  appointed  for  his  execution.  And  how 
can  he  free  himself  from  this  dreadful  neces- 
sity ?  Fast  bound  by  the  gout,  the  gravel, 
the  benumbing  aches,  and  the  numerous  in- 
firmities, of  old  age,  the  bare  names  of  which 
compose  immense  volumes,  and  all  which 
drag  him  to  death,  how  can  he  free  himself 
from  that  law,  which  binds  him  over  to  suf- 
fer death  .'  One  art  only  can  be  invented  to 
prevent  his  falling  into  despair  in  a  state  of 
imprisonment,  the  issue  of  which  is  so  formi- 
dable, that  is,  to  stun  himself  with  noise, 
business,  and  pleasure,  like  those  madmen  to 
whom  human  justice  allows  a  few  hours  to 
prepare  themselves  to  appear  before  divine 
justice,  and  who  employ  those  few  hours  iu 
drowning  their  leasou  in  wine,   lest  they 


Seb.  XXXI.j 


REAL  LIBERTY 


287 


should  tremble  at  the  sight  of  the  scaffold  on 
which  their  sentence  is  to  be  executed.  This 
is  the  state  of  a  sinner :  but  as  soon  as  the 
noise  that  stuns  his  ears  shall  cease ;  as 
soon  as  business  which  fills  the  whole  capaci- 
ty of  his  soul  shall  be  suspended  ;  as  soon  as 
the  charms  of  those  pleasures  that  enchant 
him,  shall  have  spent  their  force  ;  as  soon  as 
having  recovered  reason  and  reflection,  this 
tliought  presents  itself  to  his  mind,  .  .  .  . 
I  must  die  .  .  •  .  I  must  instantly  die  .  .  . 
he  groans  under  the  weight  of  his  chains,  his 
countenance  alters,  his  eyes  are  fixed  with 
pain,  the  shaking  of  a  leaf  makes  him  trem- 
ble, he  takes  it  for  his  executioner,  thunder- 
ing at  the  door  of  his  cell,  to  call  liira  out  to 
appear  before  his  judge.  Is  it  freedom  to 
live  under  these  cruel  apprehensions  .■'  Is  he 
free,  who  '  through  fear  of  death  is  all  his 
life-time  subject  to  bondage  .'*'  Heb.  ii.  15. 

The  condition  of  a  sinner  is  still  more  de- 
plorable, inasmuch  as  not  being  at  liberty  to 
exist,  as  he  chooses  to  exist,  he  has  not  the 
liberty  of  being  annihilated.  For  (and  this 
is  the  severest  part  of  his  slavery,  and  the 
height  of  his  misery,)  as  he  is  forced  to  die, 
when  he  has  so  many  reasons  to  fear  death, 
so  he  is  obliged  to  live,  when  he  has  number- 
less reasons  to  wish  to  die  ;  he  is  not  master  of 
his  own  existence.  The  superior  power  that 
constrains  him  to  exist,  excites  in  him  sen- 
timents, which  in  Scripture  style  are  called, 
'  seeking  death,  and  not  finding  it,'  Rev.  ix. 
43,  '  cursing  the  day  of  birth,'  saying  to  the 
'  mountains,  Cover  us  ;  and  to  the  hills,  Fall 
on  us,'  Jer.20. 14,  expressing  despair  in  these 
miserable  requests,  '  Mountains!  fill  on  us  ; 
rocks  !  hide  us  from  the  face  of  him  that  sit- 
teth  on  the  throne,  and  from  the  wrath  of 
tlie  Lamb,  for  the  great  day  of  his  wrath 
is  come,  and  who  shall  be  able  to  stand .'" 
Rev.  vi.  16,  17. 

But  what  can  rocks  and  mountains  do 
against  the  command  of  him  of  whom  it  is 
said,  '  the  mountains  shall  be  molten  under 
him,  and  the  valleys  shall  be  cleft  as  wax  be- 
fore the  fire,  and  as  the  waters  tliat  are  pour- 
ed down  a  steep  place,  before  the  Lord  of  the 
whole  earth,'  Micah  i.  4.  and  iv.  13. 

Time-server  !  thou  must  live  to  expiate  the 
guilt  of  abjuring  the  truth,  of  denying  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  of  bowing  thy  knee  before 
the  altar  of  an  idol,  of  neglecting  tlie  exte- 
rior of  religious  wership,  of  despising  the 
sacraments,  of  sacrificing  thy  whole  family 
to  superstition  and  error. 

Thou  grandee  of  this  world  !  whether  tiiy 
grandeur  be  real  or  imaginary,  thou  mu.st 
live  to  expiate  the  guilt  of  that  pride  and 
arrogance,  which  lias  so  often  rendered  thee 
deaf  or  inaccessible  to  the  solicitations  of 
tliose  thine  inferiors,  for  whose  protection 
Providence  and  society  have  elevated  tliee  to 
a  rank,  wliicli  thou  art  unworthy  to  hold. 

Magistrate  !  thou  must  live  to  expiate  the 
guilt  of  thine  unrighteous  decrees,  of  thy 
perversion  of  justice  for  the  sake  of  bribes, 
of  thy  ruining  widows  and  orphans  to  gratify 
that  sordid  avarice,  which  animates  all  thine 
actions. 

Pastor !  thou  must  live  to  expiate  the  guilt 
of  accommodating  thy  ministry  to  the  passions 
of  the  great,  of  '  holding  the  truth  in  un- 


righteousness,' Rom.  i.  18;  of  '  shunning  to 
declare  the  whole  counsel  of  God,'  Acts  xx, 
27,  of  opening  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to 
those  whom  thou  oughtest  to  have  '  pulled 
out  of  the  fire,  and  to  have  saved  with  fear,' 
Jude  23,  in  whose  ears  thou  shouldst  have 
thundered  these  terrible  words,  '  Depart,  de- 
part, ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepa- 
red for  the  devil  and  his  angels.' 

And  thou  prostitute,  the  disgrace  and  dis- 
tress of  thy  family  !  thou  must  live  to  expi- 
ate the  guilt  of  defiling  thy  bed,  the  crimi- 
nality of  thine  infidelity,  and  of  thy  baneful 
example. 

Barbarous  parent !  thou  must  live.  Thou, 
who  hast  sacrificed  those  children  to  the 
world,  who  were  dedicated  to  God  in  bap- 
tism, thou  must  live  to  expiate  the  guilt  of 
a  cruel  treachery,  which  the  sharpest  lan- 
guage is  too  gentle  to  reprove,  and  the  most 
dismal  colours  too  faint  to  describe. 

Disobedient  child  !  thou  must  live.  Wick- 
ed heart !  in  which  a  good  education  seem- 
ed to  have  precluded  the  contagion  of  the 
world,  thou  must  live  to  expiate  the  guilt  of 
despising  the  example  of  thy  pious  father,  and 
of  forgetting  the  tender  persuasive  instruc- 
tions of  thy  holy  mother. 

Who  will  terminate  this  slavery  ?  '  O 
wretched  man,  that  I  am  !  who  shall  deliver 
me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?  Thanks 
be  to  God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  througJi 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,'  Rom.  vii.  24 ;  1 
Cor.  XV.  57.  Jesus  Christ  re-establishes  the 
order  that  sin  has  subverted.  Is  death  the 
object  of  our  fears  ?  Jesus  Christ  is  the  object 
of  our  desires.  Is  annihilation  after  death 
the  object  of  our  desires .''  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  object  of  our  fears,  or  rather,  he  makes 
that  eternal  existence,  which  we  shall  enjoy 
after  this  life,  a  ground  of  the  most  trans- 
porting pleasure. 

We  do'  not  exceed  the  truth  in  speaking 
thus.  How  inconsiderable  soever  tiie  num- 
ber of  true  Christians  may  bo,  the  number 
would  be  less  considerable  still,  if  an  entire 
freedom  fiom  the  fear  of  death  were  essen- 
tial to  the  Ciiristian  character.  Death  is  al- 
ways an  evil,  an  exceeding  great  evil,  even 
to  saints  of  the  first  class.  Let  not  this  pro- 
position offend  you.  Eaeli  privilege  of  re- 
demption is  perfectly  acquired  for  us  ;  how- 
ever, ill  tlie  present  economy  we  arc  not  put 
into  the  full  enjoyment  of  any  one.  One 
privilege  that  redemption  has  procured  for 
us,  is  a  knowledge  of  the  mj'steries  of  God : 
but  who  of  us  knows  them  thoroughly.^ 
Another  privilege  of  redemption  is  holiness: 
but  \vho  of  us  is  perfectly  holy  ?  One  of  the 
privileges  of  redemption  is  a  most  close  and 
tender  union  to  God :  but  where  is  the' 
Christian,  who  does  not  find  this  commu- 
nion interrupted  .'  All  the  other  privileges 
of  redemption  are  like  these.  It  is  the  same 
with  death.  Death  is  vanquished,  and  we 
are  delivered  from  its  dominion :  but  the 
perfect  enjoyment  of  this  freedom  will  not 
be  in  this  present  economy.  Hence  St. 
Paul  says,  '  The  last  enemy  that  shall  be 
destroyed,  is  death,'  I  Cor.  xv.  26.  Death 
will  not  be  entirely  destroyed  till  after  the 
resurrection,  because  although  before  this 
great  event  of  the  souls  of  those  who  die  in 


J88 


REAL  LIBERTY. 


Ser.  XXXI.] 


the  Lord,  enjoy  an  ineffable  happiness,  yet 
they  are  in  a  state  of  separation  from  the  bo- 
dies to  which  the  Creator  at  first  united 
them  ;  wliile  this  separation  continues,  death 
is  not  entirely  conquered,  this  separation  is 
one  of  the  trophies  of  death.  TJie  time  of 
triumphing  over  the  enemy  is  not  yet  come  ; 
but  it  will  arrive  in  due  time,  and  when 
!~oul  and  body  are  aj^ain  united,  we  shall 
exclaim  with  joy,  '  O  death  !  where  is  thy 
sting  .''  O  grave  I  where  is  thy  victory  .'" 
ver.  55. 

Let  not  the  infidel  insult  the  believer  here, 
let  him  not  treat  us  as  visionaries,  because 
we  pretend  to  vanquish  death,  while  we  are 
vanquished  by  it.  Our  prcrocratives  are  i"eal, 
they  are  infinitely  substantial,  and  there  is 
an  immense  difference  between  those  fears, 
which  an  idea  of  death  excites  in  a  man, 
whom  sin  lias  enslaved,  and  those  wliich  it 
rxcites  in  the  soul  of  a  Christian.  The  one, 
the  man,  I  mean,  whom  sin  enslaves,  fears 
death,  because  lie  considers  it  as  the  end  of  all 
his  felicity,  and  the  beginning  of  those  pun- 
ishments to  wliich  the  justice  of  God  con- 
demns him.  The  other,  I  mean  the  Chris- 
tian, fears  death,  because  it  is  an  evil:  but 
lie  desires  it,  because  it  is  the  last  of  those 
evils,  which  he  is  under  a  necessity  of  suf- 
fering before  he  arrives  at  his  chief  good. 
3Ie  fears  death  ;  he  fears  the  remedies,  some- 
times less  supportable  than  the  maladies  to 
which  they  are  opposed ;  he  dreads  the  last 
adieus ;  the  violent  struggles ,  the  dying 
agonies ;  and  all  the  other  forerunners  of 
death.  Sometimes  ho  recoils  at  the  first 
approaches  of  an  enemy  so  formidable,  and 
sometimes  he  is  tempted  to  say,  '  O  my  Fa- 
ther !  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from 
3iie,'  Matt.  XX vi    39. 

But  presently,  penetrating  through  all  the 
terrible  circumstances  of  dying,  and  disco- 
vering what  follows,  he  remembers,  that 
death  is  the  fixed  point,  where  all  the  promi- 
ses of  the  gospel  meet,  the  centre  of  all  the 
hopes  of  the  children  of  God.  Filled  with 
faith  in  these  promises,  the  soul  desires  what 
it  just  now  feared,  and  flies  to  meet  the  ene- 
my that  approaches  it. 

But  Jesus  Christ  renders  annihilation, 
which  was  the  object  of  our  sinful  desires, 
the  object  of  our  fears,  or  rather,  as  I  said 
before,  ho  makes  ihatet»rnalexistence,which 
^ve   must  enjo}'  after  death,  the  ground  of 


our  transport  and  triumph.  The  happier  the 
condition  of  the  glorified  saints  should  be, 
the  more  miserable  would  it  be  to  apprehend 
an  end  of  it.  Shortness  of  duration  is  one 
grand  character  of  vanity  inseparable  from 
the  blessings  of  this  life.  They  will  make 
thee  happy,  thou  !  whose  portion  is  in  this 
life,  they  will  make  thee  happy,  I  grant :  but 
thy  happiness  will  be  only  tor  a  short  time, 
and  this  is  the  character  that  imbitters  them. 
Forget  thyself,  idolatrous  mother !  forget 
tliyself  with  that  infant  in  thine  arms,  who 
is  thine  idol :  but  death  will  shortly  tear  thee 
from  the  child,  or  tiie  child  from  thee.  Slave 
to  voluptuousness  !  intoxicate  thy  soul  with 
pleasure  :  but  presently  death  will  destroy 
the  sen.ses  that  transmit  it  to  thy  heart. 

But  to  feel  ourselves  supremely  happy, 
and  to  know  that  we  shall  be  for  ever  so  ;  to 
enjoy  the  company  of  angels,  and  to  know 
that  we  shall  for  ever  enjoy  it ;  to  see  the 
Redeemer  of  mankind,  and  to  knov/  that 
we  shall  behold  him  for  ever :  to  enjoy  the 
presence  of  God,  and  to  be  sure  that  we 
shall  ever  enjoy  it ;  to  incorporate  our  ex- 
istence with  that  of  the  Being,  who  neces- 
sarily exists,  and  our  life  with  that  of  the 
immortal  God;  to  anticipate  thus,  in  every 
indivisible  moment  of  eternity,  the  felicity 
that  shall  be  enjoyed  in  every  instant  of  an 
eternal  duration  (if  wo  may  consider  eternal 
duration  as  consisting  of  a  succession  of  mo- 
ments), this  is  supreme  felicity,  this  is  ono 
of  the  greatest  privileges  of  that  liberty 
which  Jesus  Christ  bestows  on  us 

The  different  ideas,  that  we  have  given, 
are,  I  think,  more  than  sufficient  to  induce 
us  to  regard  all  those  with  execration,  who 
would  tear  us  from  communion  with  this 
Jesus,  who  procures  us  advantages  so  inesti- 
mable. I  do  not  speak  only  of  heretics,  and 
herosiarchs  ;  I  do  not  speak  of  persecutors 
and  executioners ;  I  speak  of  the  world,  I 
speak  of  the  maxims  of  the  world,  I  speak 
of  indolence,  effeminacy,  seducing  pleasures, 
tempters  far  more  formidable  than  all  execu- 
tioners, persecutors,  heretics,  and  heresi- 
archs.  '  Who'  of  them  all,  '  sliall  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus  our  Lord.'  Lord!  to  whom  shall  we 
go .''  thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life,'  Rom. 
viii.  35.  39  ;  John  vi.  C8.  To  God,  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Spirit,  be  honour  and  glory 
for  ever.    Amen. 


SERMON  XXXII. 


THE  DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


i 


I 


Rev.    v.  11—14. 

M^ncl  I  beheld,  and  I  heard  the  voice  of  many  angels  round  about  the  throne, 
and  the  living  creatures,*  and  the  elders:  and  the  number  of  them  urns 
ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand,  and  thousands  of  thousands ;  saying, 
with  a  loud  voice.  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  power, 
and  riches  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honour,  and  glory,  and  bless- 
ing. And  every  creature,  which  is  in  heaven,  and  on  the  earth,  and  under 
the  earth,  and  such  as  are  in  the  sea,  and  all  that  are  in  them,  heard  I,  say- 
ing. Blessing,  and  honour,  and  glory,  and  power,  be  unto  him  that  sitteth 
upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  for  ever  and  ever.  And  the  four 
living  creatures  said,  .^men.  And  the  four  and  twenty  elders  fell  doivn, 
and  worshipped  him  that  liveth  for  ever  and  ever. 

Although  Atheism  and  Superstition  1  But  there  is  another  class  of  arguments 
are  weapons,  which  have  been  too  successfully  against  our  mysteries,  which  at  first  present 
enrployed  by  the  devil  against  the  truth,  yet  ]  themselves, to  the  mind  under  a  very  differ- 
are  they  not  his  most  formidable  arms,  nor  I  ent  aspect-.  There  is  a  system  of  error,  which, 
the  most  difBcult  to  be  resisted.  It  was  an  !  far  from  appearing  to  have  ignorance  for  its 
excess  of  stupidity  which  formed  supersti-  |  principle  like  superstition,  or  corruption  like 
lion  ;  aiid  it  was  an  excess  of  corruption,  that  I  atheism,  seems  to  proceed  from  the  bosom 
forged  atheism:  but  a  very  little  knowledge,  '  of  truth  and  virtue,  and  if  I  may  be  allowed 
and  a  very  little  integrity  sufficiently  pre-  i  to  say  so,  to  have  been  extracted  from  the 
serve  us  from  both.  Superstition  is  so  dia-  i  very  substance  of  reason  and  religion.  I 
metrically  opposite  to  reason,  that  one  is  |  speak  of  that  system,  which  tends  to  degrade 
shocked  at  seeing  earth,  water,  fire,  air,  mi-  ■  the  Saviour  ot  the  world  from  his  divinity, 
nerals,  passions,  maladies,  death,  men,  beasts,  1  and  to  rank  him  with  simple  creatures, 
devils  themselves  placed  by  idolaters  on  the  I  There  is  in  appearance  a  distance  so  immense, 
throne  of  the  sovereign,  and  elevated   to  su-  !  between  an  infant  born  in  a  stable,  and  the 

'  Father    of   Eternity,'    Isa.    ix.   6,  between 


prenie  honours.  Far  from  feeling  a  propen- 
sity to  i.nitate  a  conduct  so  monstrous,  we 
should  hardly  believe  it,  were  it  not  attested 
by  the  unanimous  testimonies  of  historians 
and  travellers :  did  '..'e  not  still  see  in  the  mo- 
numents of  antiquity,  such  altars,  such  dei- 
ties, such  worshippers :  and  did  not  the 
Christian  world,  in  an  age  of  light  and  know 


that  JesLis,  who  conversed  with  men,  and 
that  God,  who  '  upholds  all  things  by  the 
word  of  his  power,'  Heb  i.  3,  belwe<jn  him, 
who  being  crucified,  exjiired  on  a  cross,  and 
him,  who,  sitting  on  the  sovereign  throne, 
receives  supreme  honours  ;  that  it  is  not  at  all 
astonishing,  if  human  reason  judge  these  ob- 


ledge,  madly  prove  too  faithful  a  guarantee  '  jects  in  appearance  contradictory.  This 
of  what  animated  the  heathen  world,  in  ages  i  system  seems  also  founded  on  virtue,  even  on 
of  darkness  and  ignorance.  The  system  of  i  the  most  noble  and  transcendant  virtue,  on 
atheism  is  so  loose,  and  its  cons-equences  so  j  zeal  and  fervency.  It  aims  in  appearance  at 
dreadful  and  odious,  that  only  such  as  are  '  supporting  those  excellencies,  of  which  God 
determined  to  lose  themselves  can  be  lost  in  •  is  most  jealous,  his  divinity,  his  unity  his  es- 
this  way.  Vi'hether  a  Creator  exist  is  a  sence.  It  aims  at  preventing  idolatry.  Ac- 
question  decided,  wherever  there  is  a  crea- 
ture. Without  us,  within  us,  in  our  souls, 
in  our  bodies,  every  where,  we  meet  with 


proofs  of  a  first  cause.  An  infinite  being  fol- 
lows us,  and  surrounds  us ;  '  O  Lord,  thou 
compassest  my  path,  and  my  lying  down, 
thou  hast  beset  me  behind  and  before.  Whi- 
ther shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit?  or  whither 
shall  I  flee  from  thy  presence  V  Ps.  cxxxix. 
1.  3.  7. 


*  Beasts,m  our  translation. — 9n\mavx — animals — 
limng  crsat'ires,  more  agreeably  to  the  apostle's 
Zwa,  as  well  ae  to  Bzek.  i.  4,  5,  &c.  to  which  St. 
John  seems  to  allude.  Km  ai'cv,  k*i  tfou  .  .  .  w  'rem 
(jL'.m  re;  <iy.oiuy.A  tnj-cx^xy  ZliflN 


cordingly,  they  who  defend  this  system,  pro- 
fess to  follow  the  most  illustrious  Scripture 
models.  They  are  tlic  Phineasses,  and  Ele- 
azars,  who  draw  their  swords  only  to  main- 
tain the  glory  of  Jehovah.  They  are  the 
Pauls,  whose  '  spirits  are  stirred  by  seeing 
the  idolatry  of  Athens,'  Acts  xvii.  10.  They 
are  the  Elijahs,  who  are  '  moved  with  jea- 
lousy for  the  Lord  of  hosts,'  1  Kings  xix.  10. 
But,  if  the  partisans  of  error  are  so  zealous 
and  fervent,  should  the  ministers  of  truth 
languish  in  lukewarinness  and  indolence  ?  If 
the  divinity  of  the  Son  of  God  be  attacked 
with  weapons  so  formidable,  should  not  we 
oppose  them  with  weapons  more  forcible,  and 


290 


DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


[Seb.  XXXII, 


more  formidable  still  ?  We  also  are  stirred  in 
our  turn,  we  also  in  our  turn  are  '  moved  with 
jealousy'  lor  the  Lord  of  hosts,  and  we  con- 
secrate our  ministry  to-day  to  the  glory  of 
that  God-man,  whose  ministers  we  are.  In 
order  to  prove  the  doctrine  of  his  divinity  we 
will  not  refer  you  to  the  philosophers  of  the 
age,  their  knowledge  is  incapable  of  attaining 
the  sublimity  of  this  mystery;  we  will  not 
even  ask  you  to  hear  your  own  teachers,  the 
truth  passing  through  their  lips  loses  some- 
times its  force  ;  they  are  the  elders,  they  are 
the  angels,  they  are  '  the  thousands,  the  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousands,'  Dan.  vii.  10, 
before  the  throne  of  God,  who  render  to  Je 
sus  Christ  supreme  honours.  We  preach  to 
you  no  other  divinity  than  their  divinity. 
We  prescribe  to  you  no  other  worship  than 
their  worship.  No  !  no  !  celestial  intelligen- 
ces !  '  Ye  angels  that  excel  in  strength ; 
ye,  who  do  the  commandments  of  God ;  ye 
ministers  that  do  his  pleasure,"  Psa.  ciii.  20, 
21,  \JG  do  not  come  to-day  to  set  up  altar 
against  altar,  earth  against  laeaven.  The  ex- 
treme distance,  which  your  perfections  put 
between  you  and  us,  and  which  renders  the 
purity  of  your  worship  so  far  superior  to  ours, 
does  not  change  the  nature  of  our  homage. 
We  come  to  mix  our  incense  with  that  which 
you  incessantly  burn  before  our  Jesus,  who  is 
the  object  of  your  adoration  and  praise.  Be- 
hold, Lord  Jesus !  behold  to-day  creatures 
prostrating  themselves  upon  earth  before  thy 
throne,  like  those  who  are  in  heaven.  Hear 
the  harmonious  concert,  accept  our  united 
voices,  '  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain 
to  receive  power  and  riches,  wisdom  and 
strength,  honour  and  glory  and  blessing. 
Blessmg  and  honour,  glory  and  power,  be 
unto  him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and 
«nto  the  Lamb  for  ever  and  ever.  May  every 
one  of  us  fall  down,  and  worship  him  that 
liveth  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen.' 

It  is  then  in  relation  to  the  doctrine  of  our 
Saviour's  divinity,  and  in  relation  to  this 
doctrine  only,  that  we  are  going  to  consider 
the  words  of  our  text.  They  might  indeed 
occasion  discussions  of  another  kind.  We 
might  inquire  first,  who  are  the  '  twenty-four 
elders  V  Perhaps  the  Old  Testament  minis- 
ters are  meant,  in  allusion  to  the  twenty-four 
classes  of  priests,  into  which  David  divided 
them.  We  might  farther  ask  who  are  the 
four  living  creatures .'  Perhaps  they  are  em- 
blems of  the  four  evangelists.  We  might 
propose  questions  on  the  occasion  of  this 
song,  on  the  number,  ministry,  and  perfec- 
tions of  the  intelligences  mentioned  in  the 
text :  but  all  our  reflections  on  these  articles 
•would  be  uncertain  and  uninteresting.  As  I 
said  before,  we  will  confine  ourselves  to  one 
single  subject,  and  on  tiiree  propositions  we 
will  ground  the  doctrine  of  the  divinity  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

I.  Jesus  Christ  is  supremely  adorable,  and 
supremely  adored  by  beings  the  most  worthy 
of  our  imitation. 

II  It  implies  a  contradiction  to  suppose, 
that  God  communicates  the  honours  of  su- 
preme adoration  to  a  simple  creature. 

III.  Our  ideas  on  this  article  are  perfectly 
conformable  to  the  jdeae  of  those  agesj  the 


orthodoxy  of  which  is  best  established,  and 
least  suspected. 

I.  Jesus  Christ  is  supremely  adorable,  and 
supremely  adored  by  beings  the  most  worthy 
of  our  emulation  ;  this  is  our  first  proposition. 
We  join  the  term  supreme  to  the  term  adora- 
tion, in  order  to  avoid  an  equivocation,  of 
which  this  proposition  is  susceptible.  The 
Scripture  does  not  distinguish,  as  some  di- 
vines with  so  little  reason  do,  many  sorts  of 
religious  adorations.  We  do  not  find  there 
the  distinction  of  the  worship  oi Latria,  from 
the  worship  of  Dulia :  but  religious  adoration 
is  distinguished  from  civil  adoration.  Thus 
we  are  told  in  the  nineteenth  chapter  of  Ge- 
nesis, ver.  1,  that  Lot,  seeing  two  angels, 
rose  up  to  meet  them,  and  '  bowed  himself 
with  his  face  toward  the  ground,'  it  is  in  the 
Hebrew,  he  adored  them.  We  have  number- 
less examples  of  the  same  kind.  To  remove 
this  equivocation,  to  show  that  we  mean  su- 
preme adoration,  we  have  affirmed,  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  supremely  adorable,  and  supremely 
adored.  But  wherein  does  this  supreme  ado- 
ration consist .'  The  understanding  of  this 
article,  and  in  general  of  this  whole  discourse, 
depends  on  a  clear  notion  of  supreme  worship. 
We  will  make  it  as  plain  as  we  can.  Su- 
preme adoration  supposes  three  dispositions 
in  him  who  renders  it,  and  it  supposes  accord- 
ingly three  excellencies  in  him  to  whom  it  is 
rendered. 

1.  Supreme  adoration  supposes  an  emi- 
nence of  perfections  in  him,  to  whom  it  is  ren- 
dered, it  supposes  also  an  homage  of  mind 
relative  to  that  eminence  in  him  who  renders 
it.  Adoration  is  a  disposition  of  our  minds, 
by  which  we  acknowledge,  that  God  excels 
all  other  beings,  how  great,  how  noble,  how 
sublime  soever  they  may  be.  We  acknow- 
ledge, that  he  has  no  superior,  no  equal. 
We  acknowledge  him  to  be  supremely  wise, 
supremely  powerful,  supremely  happy ;  in 
one  word,  we  acknowledge,  that  .he  pos- 
sesses all  conceivable  perfections  without 
bounds,  in  the  most  elevated  manner,  and  in 
exclusion  of  every  other  being.  In  this  senso 
it  is  said,  '  Our  God  is  one  Lord  ;  he  only  is 
wise  ;  he  only  hath  immortalit}','  Deut.  vi.  4  ; 
Jude  25,  and  1  Tim.  vi.  15. 

2.  Supreme  adoration  supposes,  that  he  tn 
whom  it  is  rendered,  is  supremely  amiable, 
supremely  communicative,  supremely  good. 
Goodness  is  a  perfection.  It  is  comprised  in 
the  idea  which  we  have  already  given  of  the 
adorable  Being  :  but  we  consider  it  separate- 
ly ;  because  in  the  foregoing  article,  we  cor> 
sidered  the  divinity  without  any  relation  >  / 
our  happiness,  whereas  now  we  consider  him 
in  his  relation  to  our  felicity;  for  it  is  thb 
goodness  of  God,  which  relates  God  to  us  :  it 
is  that,  which  in  some  sort  reduces  to  our 
size,  and  moves  towards  us  all  those  other 
attributes,  the  immensity  of  which  absorbs 
us,  the  glory  of  which  confounds  us.  Ado- 
ration supposes  in  him  who  renders  it  an  ad- 
herence of  heart,  by  which  he  cleaves  to 
God  as  to  his  supreme  good.  It  is  an  effusion 
of  soul,  which  makes  tlxe  worshipper  consider 
him  as  the  source  of  all  the  advantages  which 
he  now  enjoys,  and  of  all  the  advantages 
which  he  can  ever  enjoy.     It  makes  him  per- 


{ 


Ser.  XXXII.] 


DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


291 


ceive,  tliat  he  derives  from  him  '  life,  motion, 
and  being,'  Acts  xvii.  28.  It  makes  him  say 
with  a  prophet,  '  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but 
thee  .''  and  there  is  none  upon  earth  that  I 
desire  besides  thee.  It  is  good  for  me  to 
draw  near  to  God.  Blessed  are  all  they  that 
put  their  trust  in  him,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  25.  28,  and 
ii.  12. 

3.  In  fine,  adoration  supposes  in  him,  to 
■\viiom  it  is  rendered,  an  absolute  empire  over 
all  beings  that  exist.  It  supposes  in  him, 
who  renderb  it,  that  perfect^devotedness,  that 
unlimited  submission,  by  which  he  acknow- 
ledges himself  responsible  to  God  for  eveiy 
instant  of  his  duration  ;  that  there  is  no  ac- 
tion so  indifferent,  no  circumstance  so  incon- 
siderable, no  breath  (so  to  speak)  so  subtile, 
which  ought  not  to  be  Consecrated  to  him. 
It  is  that  universal  homage,  by  which  a  man 
owns  that  God  only  has  a  right  to  prescribe 
laws  to  him  ;  that  he  only  can  regulate  his 
course  of  life ;  and  that  all  the  honours, 
which  are  rendered  to  other  beings,  either  to 
tliose  who  gave  us  birth,  or  to  those  who 
govern  us  in  society,  ought  to  be  in  subordi- 
nation to  the  honour  which  is  rendered  to 
himself. 

Such  is  our  idea  of  supreme  adoration,  an 
idea  not  only  proper  to  direct  us  in  the  doc- 
trines of  religion,  as  we  shall  see  presentl}', 
but  singularly  adapted  to  our  instruction  in 
the  practice  of  it ;  an  idea,  which  may  serve 
to  convince  us  whether  we  have  attained  tiie 
spirit  of  religion,  or  whether  we  arc  floating 
on  the  surface  of  it ;  whether  we  be  idolaters, 
or  true  worshippers  of  the  living  God ;  for 
tliese  three  dispositions  are  so  closely  con- 
nected together,  that  their  separation  is  im- 
possible. It  is  for  this,  that  obedience  to  the 
commands  of  God  is  so  powerfiilly  enforced 
in  religion  as  an  essential  part  of  the  homage 
which  we  owe  him.  It  is  for  this,  that  the 
Scriptures  tell  us,  '  covetousness  is  idolatry  ; 
to  obey  is  better  than  sacrifice,  and  to  heark- 
en than  the  fat  of  rams ;  rebellion  is  as  the 
sin  of  witchcraft,  and  stubbornness  is  as  ini- 
quity and  idolatry,'  Col.  iii.  5 ;  1  Sam.  xv. 
22,  23. 

These  truths  being  thus  established,  we 
affirm,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  supremely  adora- 
ble, and  we  affirm  also,  that  he  is  supremely 
adored  by  beings  the  most  worthy  of  imita- 
tion. He  is  supremely  adorable  is  a  question 
of  right.  He  is  supremely  adored  is  a  ques- 
tion of  fact. 

I.  The  question  of  right  is  decided  by  the 
idea  which  the  Scripture  gives  us  of  Jesus 
Ciirist.  The  three  excellences,  which  we 
must  suppose  in  him,  to  whom  adoration  is 
paid,  are  attributed  to  him  in  Scripture  :  and 
we  are  there  required  to  render  those  three 
homages  to  him,  which  suppose  adoration  in 
him  who  renders  them.  The  Scripture  attri- 
butes to  him  that  eminence  of  perfections, 
which  must  claim  the  homage  of  our  minds. 
What  perfection  can  you  conceive,  which  is 
not  ascribed  to  Jesus  Christ  by  the  sacred 
writers  .'  Is  it  eternity  ^  the  Scripture  tells 
you  he  '  existed  in  the  beginning,'  John  i.  1, 
'  he  was  before  Abraham,'  chap.  viii.  58,  '  he 
is,  he  was,  he  is  to  come,'  Rev,  i.8.  Is  it  om- 
nipresence ^  the  Scripture  tells  you,  '  where 
two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  his 


name,  there  is  he  in  the  midst  of  them,'  Matt, 
xviii.  20,  even  when  he  ascended  into  heaven, 
he  promised  to  be  with  his  Apostles  on  earth, 
chap,  xxviii.  20.  Is  it  omnipotence  f  the 
Scripture  tells  you,  ho  is  '  the  Almighty,' 
Rev.  i.  8.  Is  it  omniscience  ^  the  Scripture 
tells  you,  he  '  knoweth  all  things,'  John  xxi. 
17,  he  '  needed  not  that  any  should  testify  of 
man,  for  he  knew  what  was  in  man,'  chap.  ii. 
25,  he  '  searcheth  the  hearts  and  the  reins,' 
Rev.  ii.  23.  Is  it  unchangeableness  ?  the 
Scripture  tells  you,  he  is  ^  the  same  yester- 
day, and  to-day,  and  for  ever,'  Heb.  xiii.  8, 
even  when,  '  the  heavens  perish,  he  shall  en- 
dure, when  they  shall '  wax  old,'  when  they 
shall  'be  changed,'  when  they  shall  be 
'  changed  like  a  vesture  he  shall  be  the  same, 
and  his  years  shall  have  no  end,'  Ps.  cii.  2G, 
27.  Hence  it  is  that  Scripture  attributes  to 
him  a  perfect  equality  with  his  Father;  for 
'  he  counted  it  no  robbery  to  be  equal  with 
God  '  Phil.  ii.  C.  Hence  it  tells  us,  '  in  him 
dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  G  odhead  bo- 
dily,' Col.  ii.  9.  For  this  reason,  it  calls  him 
God  by  excellence :  '  his  name  shall  be  call- 
ed Wonderful,  Counsellor,  The  mighty  God, 
The  everlasting  Fatner,'  Isa.  ix.  6  '  O  God ! 
thy  God  hath  anointed  thee  with  the  oil  of 
gladness  above  thy  fellows,'  Ps.  xlv.  7.  '  In 
the  beginning  was  the  word,  and  the  word 
was  with  God,  and  the  word  was  God,' 
John  i.  1.  '  We  are  in  him  that  is  true, 
even  in  Jesus  Christ.  1  his  is  the  true 
God  and  eternal  life,'  1  John  v.  20.  Hence 
he  is  called  '  the  great  God,'  Titus  ii  13. 
'  God  over  all,  blessed  for  evermore,'  Rom. 
ix.  5. 

2.  The  Scripture  attributes  to  Jesus  Christ 
that  Supreme  communication,  that  supreme 
goodness,  that  intimate  relation  to  our  happi- 
ness, which  is  the  second  ground  of  adora- 
tion, and  the  foundation  of  that  second  ho- 
mage, which  is  required  of  a  worshipper, 
that  is,  the  homage  of  the  heart.  Hence  it 
is,  that  the  holy  Scriptures  direct  us  to  con- 
sider him,  as  the  author  of  all  the  blessings, 
which  we  possess.  If  the  heavens  rolling" 
above  our  heads  serve  us  for  a  pavillion,  ii 
the  eartii  be  firm  beneath  our  feet  to  serve 
us  for  a  support,  it  is  he  who  is  the  author  of 
both  ;  for  '  thou,  Lord,  thou  hast  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  earth,  and  the  heavens  are 
the  work  of  thy  hands,"  Ps.  cii.  29.  If  num- 
berless creatures  near  and  remote  contri- 
bute to  the  happiness  of  man,  it  is  he  who 
has  formed  them ;  for  '  without  him  nothing 
was  made  that  was  made.  By  him  were  all 
things  created  that  are  in  lieaven  and  that 
are  in  earth,  visible  and  invisible,  whether 
they  be  thrones  or  dominions,  principalities, 
or  powers,  all  things  were  created  by  him 
and  for  him.  And  he  is  before  all  things, 
and  by  him  all  things  consist,'  John  i.  3; 
Col.  i.  IG,  17.  If  the  Jews  received  mi- 
raculous deliverances  in  Egypt,  if  they  gain- 
ed immortal  victories  over  the  nations, 
which  they  defeated,  it  was  he  who  pro- 
cured them,  for  '  the  angel  of  his  presence 
he  saved  them,  in  his  love  and  in  his  pity 
he  redeemed  them,  and  he  bare  them  and 
carried  them  all  the  days  of  old,'  Isa.  Ixiii. 
9.  If  darkness  has  been  dissipated  from  the 
face  of  the  church,  it  was  lie  who  made  it 


292 


DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


[See.  XXXII. 


vanish  ;  for  '  he  is  the  true  light,  who  light-  > 
cth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world,' 
John  i.  9.  If  we  are  reconciled  to  God,  it 
was  he  who  made  our  peace  ;  for  '  we  have  I 
redemption  through  his  blood,'  Eph.  i.  '7, '  it  | 
pleased  the  Father  by  him  to  reconcile  all  I 
things  unto  himself,  and  b;  the  blood  of  his  | 
cross  to  unite  things  in  heaven,  and  things  I 
on  earth,'  Col.  i.  1'J,  '20.  If  we  have  receiv-  | 
ed  the  Comforter,  it  was  he  who  sent  him ;  j 
for,  says  he,  '  I  tell  you  the  trutii,  it  is  ex-  ; 
pedicnt  for  you  that  I  go  away,  for  if  I  go  not  i 
away,  the  Comforter  will  not  come  unto  ', 
3'ou,  but  if  I  depart,  I  will  send  him  unto  | 
you,'  John  xvi.  7.  If,  after  this  life,  our  i 
souls  be  carried  into  the  bosom  of  God,  it  ! 
will  be  by  his  adorable  hands  ;  '  Lord  Jesus,'  i 
said  one  of  his  exemplary  servants,  '  receive  | 
my  spirit,'  Acts  vii.  59.  If  our  bodies  rise  i 
from  their  graves,  if  they  be  recalled  to  Hfe,  ■ 
after  they  have  been  reduced  to  ashes,  he  j 
alone  will  reanimate  them  ;  for  '  he  is  the  ; 
resurrection  and  the  life,  he  that  believeth 
in  him,  though  he  were  dead,  }'et  shall  he 
live,  and  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  ! 
him  shall  never  die,'  John  xi.  25,  26.  j 

3.  Finally,  the  Scripture  attributes  to  Je-  | 
sus  Christ  the   third   ground   of  adoration,  ; 
that  is,  empire  over  all  creatures.     This  lays  i 
a  foundation    for   the   third  homage   of  the  | 
worshipper,  I  mean  devotedness  of  life.  '  I 
saw  in  the  night  visions,'  said   the  prophet  ' 
Daniel,  '  and   behold !  one,   like  the   Son  of 
man,  came  with  the  clouds  of  heaven,  and  ' 
came    to   the    Ancient   of    Days,   and    they  ' 
brought  him  near  before   him.     And   there  ' 
was  given  him  dominion,  and  glory,  and  a 
kingdom,  that  all  people,  nations,  and   lan- 
guages, should  serve   him :  his  dominion  is  ; 
an    everlasting    dominion,    which   shall   not  j 
pass  away,  and  his  kingdom  that  which  shall 
not  be  destroyed,'  chap.  vii.  13,  &c.     '  The  ; 
Lord  hath  said  unto  me,  Thou  art  my  Son,  ; 
this  day   have   I   begotten  thee,  ask  of  me  j 
and  I  shall  give   thee  the  heathen  for   thine  ; 
inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  j 
earth  for   thy  possession ;  Thou  shalt  break  i 
them  with  a  red  of  irom,  thou  shalt   dash  j 
them  in  pieces  like  a  potter's  vessel,'  Ps.  ii.  i 
7 — 9.  '  Gird  thy  sword  upon   thj^  thigh,  O  | 
most  Mighty  !  with  thy  glory  and  with  thy  • 
majesty.      Thine   arrows  are   sharp  in   the  i 
heart  of  the  king's  enemies,  the   people  fall  j 
under   thee.     Thy    throne,    O    God,  is   for  j 
ever  and  ever :  and  the  sceptre  of  thy  king-  I 
dom   is  a  right  sceptre,'    Ps.  xlv.    3.  5.  6.  | 
'  The  Lord  said  unto  my  Lord,  Sit  thou  at 
my  right  hand   until  I  make  thine  enemies  | 
thy  footstool.     The  Lord  shall  send  tlie  rod  I 
of  thy   strength   out  of  Zion,  rule   thou  in 
the  midst  of  thine   enemies,'    Ps.  ex.    1,  2. 
The   question    of  right  then  is  sufficiently 
proved. 

The  question  of  fact  immediately  follows. 
As  Jesus  Christ  is  supremely  adorable,  so  lie 
is  supremely  adore'!  by  intelligences,  whom 
we  ought  to  imitate.  This  adoration  is  re- 
commended by  Scripture ;  the  very  Scrip- 
ture that  forbids  us  to  adore  any  but  God, 
prescribes  the  adoration  of  Jesus  Christ. 
'  Let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  Him,' 
Heb.  i.  (3  'Tlie  Father  jiir'geth  no  man, 
but  hath  committed  all  judgment  to  tlic  Son, 


that  all  men  should  honour  the  Son  even  as 
they  honour  the  Father,  John  v.  22, 23.  '  He 
hath  received  a  name  above  every  name,  that 
at  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,' 
Phil.  ii.  9,  10.  'The  four  and  twenty  el- 
ders fell  down,  and  worshipped  him  who 
liveth  for  ever  and  ever.'  All  the  particular 
acts  of  adoration,  which  are  reputed  acts  of 
idolatry  when'  rendered  to  any  but  God,  are 
rendered  to  Jesus  Christ  by  the  express  di- 
rection of  the  holy  Scriptures.  Prayer,  that 
prayer,  of  which  it  is  said,  '  how  shall  they 
call  on  him  in  whom  they  have  not  believ- 
ed?' Rom  X.  14,  prayer  is  addressed  to  Je- 
sus Christ ;  '  they  stoned  Stephen  pra3'ing 
and  saying,  Lord  Jesus  receive  my  spirit,' 
Acts  vii.  59.*  Confidence,  that  confidence, 
of  which  it  is  said,  '  Cursed  be  the  man  that 
trusteth  in  man,  and  maketh  flesh  his  arm,' 
Jer.  xvii.  5,  that  confidence  is  an  homage 
rendered  to  Jesus  Christ ;  '  Whosoever  be- 
lieveth on  him  shall  not  be  ashamed,'  Rom. 
X.  11.  Baptism,  that  baptism,  which  is  com- 
manded to  be  administered  in  the  name  of  the 
Father,  that  baptism  is  an  homage  rendered 
to  Jesus  Christ,  it  is  administered  in  his 
name  ,  '  Go  teach  all  nations,  baptizing  them 
in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,' 
Matt,  xxviii.  19.  Swearing,  that  swearing, 
of  which  it  is  said,  '  Thou  shalt  fear  the  Lord 
thy  God,  and  serve  him,  and  shalt  swear  by 
his  name,'  Deut.  vi.  13,  <that  swearing  is  an 
homage  rendered  to  Jesus  Christ ;  '  I  say 
the  truth  in  Christ,  I  lie  not,  my  conscience 
also  bearing  me  witness  in  the  Holy  Ghost,' 
Rom.  ix.  i.  Benediction,  that  blessing,  of 
which  it  is  said,  '  The  Lord  bless  thee  and 
keep  thee,'  Num.  vi.  24,  that  benediction  is 
an  homage  rendered  to  Jesus  Christ.  '  Grace 
be  to  you,  and  peace  from  God  our  Father, 
and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,'  Rom.  i.  7.  In 
fine,  supreme  praise,  that  praise  of  which  it 
is  said,  '  To  the  only  wise  God  be  honour 
and  glory,'  1  Tim.  17,  is  an  homage  paid  to 
Jesus  Christ.  '  And  I  beheld,'  says  our  text, 
'  and  I  heard  the  voice  of  many  angels  round 
about  the  throne,  and  the  living  creatures, 
and  the  elders,  saying  with  a  loud  voice, 
Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  re- 
ceive power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and 
strength,  to  the  Lamb  be  honour  and  glorj', 
and  blessing  for  ever."  Weigh  that  expres- 
sion which  God  uses  to  give  the  greater 
weight  to  his  command  of  worshipping  him 
only  ;  '  before  my  facc,i  Thou  shalt  have  no 
other  gods  before  my  face,'  E.\ad.  xx.  3. 
God  would  have  this  always  inculcated 
among  the  ancient  people,  that  he  was 
among  ttiem  in  a  peculiar  manner,  that  ha 
was  their  head  and  general,  that  he  march- 
ed in  the  front  of  their  camp,  and  conduct- 
ed all  their  host:  he  meant  by  this  declara- 
tion, to  retain  them  in  his  sfrvice,  and  to 
make  them  comprehend  how  provoking  it 
would  be  to  him,  should  they  render  divine 
honours  in  his  presence  to  any  besides  him- 
self    But  hero  the  elders,  the  angels,  the 


*  IIsIapidoicntEtienne,  /^rinnt,  el  disant,  tJeigneur 
Jesus,  &.C.  perfectly  agreeable  to  St.  Luke's 
EniKAAOTVtENON  km  Aryov^n-  The  word  God 
iu  our  te.\t  is  inserted  properly. 

t  Mr.  S.  quotes  according  to  the  Hebrew  te.\l 
ol'Exod.  x.\.  3. 


Seb.  XXXII.] 


DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


293 


ten  thousand,  the  ten  thousand  times  ten 
thousands  in  heaven,  in  the  presence  of  God. 
and  before  the  throne  of  his  glory,  adore 
Jesus  Clirist,  and  pay  no  other  honours  to 
him  who  'sitteth  on  the  tlirone'  than  they 
pay  to  Jesus  Christ  himself. 

Collect  now,  my  brethren,  all  these  reflec- 
tions  into  one  point  of  view,   and  see  into 
what  contradictions  people  fall,  who,  adnut- 
ting  the  divinity  of  our  Scriptures,  refuse  to 
consider  Jesus  Christ  as  the  Supreme  God. 
No,  Jesus  Christ  is  not  the  Supreme    God 
(thus  are  our  opponents  obliged  to  speak), 
Jesus  Christ  is  not  the  Supreme    God :  but 
he  possesses   that   eminence    of  perfections 
which  constitutes  the  essence  of  the  Supreme 
God ;  like  him  he  is  eternal,  like  him  he  is 
omnipresent,  like    him   he    is   almighty,  he 
iaiows  all  things  like  him,  he  searches  the 
heart  and  the  reins  like  him,  he  possesses  tlie 
fulness  of  the  Godhead  hke  him,  and  like  him 
merits  the  most  profound  homage  of  the  mind. 
No,  Jesus  Christ  is  not  the  Supreme  God  ■ 
but  he  possesses  that  goodness,  that  commu- 
nication, which  is  the  grand  character  of  the  j 
Supreme  God ;  like  God  supreme,  he  made  , 
heaven  and  earth,  he   formed  all  creatures  ; 
like  him,  he  wrought   miracles  like  a  God,  I 
for  the  ancient  church,   he  enlightens  like  i 
him,  he  sanctifies  like  him,  he  saves  us,  he  i 
raises  us  from  the  dead,  he  glorifies  us  like  : 
liim,  and  like  him  merits  the  most  profound 
homage  of  the    heart.     No,  Jesus  Christ  is  i 
not  the  Supreme  God  :  but  we  are  command-  | 
ed  to  worship  him  as  if  he  were.    St.  Stephen 
prays  to  Jesus  Christ  as  if  he  were  God,  the 
faithful  confide  in  Jesus  Christ  as  if  he  were  | 
God,  they  swear  by  JesUs  Christ  as  if  he  were  | 
God,  they  bless  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ 
as  if  he  were  God.     Who  docs  not  perceive 
these  contradiction  ?     Our  first  proposition  is 
therefore  sufficiently  established,  Jesus  Christ 
is    supremely    adored    by   intelhgences    the 
most   worthy   of  imitation.     But  it    implies 
a    contradiction,   to    suppose   that   the    ho- 
nours of  adoration  should  be  communicated 
to    a  simple  creature.     This  is   our  second 
proposition,  and  the  second  part  of  this  dis- 
course. 

II.  This  supreme  adoration,  of  which  we 
have  given  an  idea,  cannot  be  communicated 
to  any  being,  except  an  eminence  of  perfec- 
tions, such  as  independence,  eternity,  omni- 
presence, be  communicated  to  that  being 
also.  Supreme  adoration  cannot  be  commu- 
nicated to  any  being,  except  supreme  good- 
ness be  communicated,  except  a  being  become 


premely  adorable,  we   have  thereby  proved 
tliat  he  is  the  supreme  God. 

Accordingly,   however   important  our  se- 
cond proposition   may    be,  we    should   sup- 
pose   it    fully  proved,  if  the    Scripture   did 
not  seem  positively  to  affirm,  that  a  right  to 
supreme  adoration  is  a  right  acquired  by  Je- 
sus Christ,  and  is  ascribed  to  him,  not  on  ac- 
count of  what  he  was  from  eternity,  but  of 
what   he   has   done   in  time.     '  The   Father 
judgeth  no  man,'  says  Jesus  Christ  himself: 
'  but  hath  committed   all  judgment  to  the 
Son,  that  all   men  should  honour  the   Son, 
even   as  they   honour  the   Father,'  John  v. 
22,  23.     Here,  it  is  plain,  Jesus  Christ  does 
not  require   men  to  honour  him,  as  they  ho- 
I  nour  the  Father,  on  account  of  his  own  ex- 
cellent nature, :  but  on  account  of  that  pow- 
er, to    'judge  the   world,'  which  was  given 
I  him  in  time.     'He  made  himself  of  no  repu- 
!  tation,  and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  ser- 
I  vant,  and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even 
the   death    of  the  cross.      Wherefore    God 
j  also  hath  highly  exalted  him,'  Phil.  ii.  7.  9, 
Here  again,  Jesus  Christ  seems  to  have  re- 
i  ceived  this  exaltation  only  in  virtue  of  that 
;  profound    humiliation,  and  of  that  profound 
I  obedience,  which  he  rendered  to  his  Father. 
And  in  our  text  it  seems  as  it  those  acclama- 
tions,   praises,    and  adorations,    with  which 
the   happy  spirits   in  heaven  honour  the  Sa- 
viour of  tlie  world,  are  only  offered  to  him  on 
account  of  that  sacrifice  which  he   offered  in 
time  ;    for  after  these  celestial  intelligences 
have  said  in  the  following  words,  '  Thou  art 
worthy  to  take  the   book  and  open  the  seals 
thereof,  for  thou  wast  slain  and  hast  redeem- 
ed us  to  God  by  thy  blood  :  they  repeat  this 
reason  of  adoration,  and  worship  Jesus  Christ 
under  the  idea  of  a  Lamb,  saying,   '  Worthy 
is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  to  receive  power, 
riches,  wisdom,'  and  so  on. 

This  difficulty  comes  from  the  equivocal 
meaning  of  the  term  worship,  which  may  be 
understood  to  regard  those  infinite  perfections, 
which  eternally  renders  him  who  possesses 
them,  worthy  of  supreme  honours;  or  that 
particular  honour,  which  God  merits  by  the 
performance  of  some  memorable  work  per- 
formed in  time.  The  first  sort  of  adoration 
cannot  be  acquired.  It  is  essential  to  him  to 
i  whom  it  is  paid  ;  this  we  have  proved.  But 
the  second  kind  of  adoration,  that  part  of 
supreme  honour,  which  is  rendered  to  God, 
in  virtue  of  some  new  achievement,  that  ho- 
nour he  acquires ;  and  far  from  proving,  that 
he  who  acquires  this  new  honour,  and  the 


an  immediate    essential   source   of  felicity,    homage   and   consequential  of  it,  does  not 


Supreme  adoration  cannot  be  communicated 
to  any  being,  unless  absolute,  boundless,  im- 
mense empire  be  communicated  to  him  also. 
Now  to  communicate  all  these  excellences  to 
a  creature  is  to  communicate  the  Godhead  to 
him.  If  then  it  be  absurd  to  suppose  that 
deity  can  be  communicated  to  a  creature,  so 
that  what  had  a  beginning,  becomes  what 
had  no  beginning  ;  it  is  also  absurd  to  sup- 
pose that  a  simple  creature  can  posses  these 
excellences,  and  consequently  it  implies  a 
contradiction,  to  affirm  that  a  created  being 
can  become  supremely  adorable.  If  there- 
fore we  have  proved,  that  Jeaus  Christ  is  su- 

2  P 


possess  essential  deity,  it  is  on  the  contrary 
an  invincible  argument,  that  divinity  is  essen- 
tial to  him.  God,  for  example,  is  essentially 
adorable,  yet  every  new  favour  that  he  grants, 
is  an  acquisition  of  a  new  title  of  adoration. 
Apply  this  remark  to  Jesus  Christ.  As 
God,  he  is  essentially  adorable.  But  Jesus 
Christ,  who  is  supremely  adorable  as  God, 
may  bestow  some  new  favour  on  us.  In  this 
sense,  he  may  acquire  a  new  title  of  adoration, 
because  he  affords  us  a  new  motive  to  adore 
him.  And  what  more  powerful  motive  can 
be  proposed,  than  that  of  his  profound  abase- 
ment for  our  salvation  ?    now  the  inspired 


294 


DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


[Ser.  XXXII. 


\vriters,in  the  passages  \vliich  we  liave  cited.  | 
'.'^pcak  of  this  latter  kind  of  adoration.  They  i 
<lo  not  say,  Jesus  Christ  lias  acquired  that 
divine  essence,  which  renders  him  who  pos- 
sesses it  essentially  adorable  ;  for  that  would 
imply  a  contradiction  :  they  only  say,  that  by 
the  benefits  which  he  has  conununicatcd  to 
US  in  time,  he  has  acquired  over  us  in  time  a 
jicw  title  of  adoration.  Tiiis  is  evident  to  a 
demonstration  in  regard  to  the  I'hilippian 
text,  which  appears  the  most  difficult.  For  St. 
Paul,  so  far  from  affirmino-  that  Jesus  Christ 
had  not  those  perfections  which  make  any 
being  adorable,  till  after  his  humiliation, 
establishes  expressly  the  contrary.  lie  ex- 
pressly says,  that  Jesus  Christ,  before  he  was 
found  '  in  fashion  as  a  man,  thought  it  no 
Tobbery  to  be  equal  with  God  ;'  that,  before 
lie  took  upon  him  '  the  form  of  a  servant,  he 
was  in  the  form  of  trod:'  but  when  Jesus 
<_^hrist  was  '  in  the  form  of  God'  vrlicu  '  lie 
counted  it  no  robbery  to  be  equal  with 
God,'  he  was  supremely  adorable.  By  con- 
sequence, Jesus  Christ  is  not  adorable  only 
liccausc  he  was  '  found  in  fashion  as  a  man, 
and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,' 
Fhil.  ii.  6,  &c. 

This  shall  suffice  on  the  second  proposition. 
liCt  us  attend  a  few  moments  to  the  discus- 
sion of  the  third.  Let  us  attend  to  the  cele- 
brated question  of  the  faith  of  the  three  first 
ages  on  the  divinity  of  the  Saviour  of  the 
world,  and  let  us  prove,  that  oar  ideas  of  the 
doctrine  of  Christ's  divinity  exactly  answer 
those  of  the  ages,  the  orthodoxy  of  which  is 
least  suspected.     This  is  our  third  part. 

III.  One  of  the  most  celebrated  members 
of  the  Romish  communion,  a  man*  who 
would  have  been  one  of  the  surest  guides, 
who  could  have  been  chosen  to  conduct  us 
through  the  labyrinths  of  the  first  ag'es,  could 
Ave  have  assured  ourselves,  that  the  integrity 
of  his  heart  had  been  equivocal  to  the  clear- 
ness of  his  understanding,  and  to  the  strength 
of  his  memory  ;  this  man,  I  say,  has  been  the 
astonishment  of  every  scholar,  for  declaring, 
that  after  he  had  made  profound  researches 
into  antiquity,  it  appeared  to  him,  the  doctrine 
of  Christ's  divinity  was  not  generally  receiv- 
ed in  the  church,  till  after  the  council  of 
Nice.  It  is  yet  a  problem,  what  could  induce 
this  able  Jesuit  to  maintain  a  paradox  ap- 
parently so  opposite  to  his  own  knowledge. 
But,  leaving  this  question  to  the  decision  of 
the  Searcher  of  hearts,  let  us  only  observe, 
that  this  author  has  been  a  thousand  times 
answered,  both  by  our  own  divines,  and  by 
those  of  the  church  of  Rome.  A  treatise  on 
this  subject,  by  an  illustrious  prelate  of  the 
<:hurch  of  England,  is  in  the  hands  of  all 
learned  men.  The  f  author  proves  there  with 
tlie  fiille.st  evidence,  that  the  fathers  who 
lived  before  the  council  of  Nice,  did  main- 
tain first,  that  Jesus  Christ  subsisted  before 
liis  birth  ;  secondly,  that  lie  was  of  the  same 
essence  with  his  Father ;  and  thirdly,  that 
he  subsisted  with  him  from  all  eternity.  To 
repeat  the  passages  extracted  from  the 
fathers  by  this  author  is  not  the  work  of  a 
sermon.  We  arc  going  to  take  a  way  better 
proportioned  to  the  limits  of  these  exercises 
to  arrive  at  the  same  end. 


1 .  Wc  will  briefly  indicate  the  principal 
precautions  necessary  to  the  understanding 
of  the  sentiments  of  the  fathers  of  the  three 
first  centuries  on  this  article. 

2.  We  will  then  more  particularly  inform 
you  what  their  sentiments  were.  And  as 
these  articles  are  a  summary  of  many  volumes, 
and  (if  1  may  sa}'  so),  the  essence  of  the 
labours  of  the  greatest  men,  they  deserve 
your  serious  attention. 

1.  In  order  to  answer  the  objections,  which 
may  be  extracted  from  the  writings  of  the 
fathers  against  our  thesis,  the  same  general 
solution  must  be  admitted,  which  we  oppose 
to  objections  extracted  from  the  Scriptures. 
Passages  of  Scripture  are  opposed  to  us,  in 
which  Jesus  Christ  speaks  of  himself  as  a 
simple  vian.  To  this  objection  we  reply 
these  passages  make  nothing  against  us. 
According  to  us,  Jesus  Christ  is  God  and 
man.  We  can  no  more  conclude,  that  he  is 
not  God,  because  the  Holy  Spirit  sometimes 
speaks  of  him  as  a  simple  man,  than  we  can 
conclude,  that  he  is  not  man,  because  he 
speaks  of  him  sometimes  as  God. 

2.  It  must  be  observed,  that  though  the 
fathers  taught  that  Jesus  Christ  Avas  of  the 
same  essence  with  his  Father,  yet  they  be- 
lieved, I  know notwha.t, subordination  amoncr 
the  three  persons  who  are  the  object  of  our 
worship.  They  considered  the  Father  as  the 
source  of  deity,  and  pretended  that  the  gene- 
ration of  the  Son  gave  the  Father  a  pre- 
eminence above  the  Son,  and  that  the  proces- 
sion of  the  Holy  Ghost  gave  the  Son  a  pre- 
eminence over  the  Holy  Ghost.  '  We  are  not  <. 
Atheists,'  says  Justin  Martyr, '  wc  religiously 
adore  the  Creator  of  this  universe :  we  put 
in  the  second  place  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  the 
true  Son  of  God,  and  we  place  in  the  third 
degree  the  spirit  of  prophecy.'*  As  these 
first  teachers  of  the  church  have  sometimes 
been  contradicted  on  this  article,  so  they 
have  advanced  in  the  heat  of  the  dispute 
some  over-strained  propositions,  which  we 
cannot  adopt ;  as  this  of  Origen,  among 
many  others.  '  There  have  been  among  the 
multitude  of  the  faithful,  some  who,  depart- 
ing from  the  sentiments  received  by  others, 
have  rashly  affirmed  that  Jesus  Christ  was 
God  over  all  creatures.  In  truth,  we  who 
believe  the  word  of  the  Son,  who  said,  '  The 
Father  is  greater  than  I,'  John  xiv.  28,  do 
not  believe  this  proposition.'!  The  advan- 
tages which  tJie  Arians  gained  by  this,  made 
many  of  the  fathers  after  the  Nicence  council 
renounce  the  doctrine  of  the  divinity  of 
Christ,  and  explain  those  passages  in  which 
Christ  acknowledged  himself  inferior  to  the 
Father  of  his  humanity.     This  is  the  method 

ot  St.  Athanasiusjt  of  St.  Cyril  of  Alexan- 
dria,J  and  of  many  others.  It  was  particu- 
larly St.  Augustine's  way,  who,  to  prove  that 
these  expressions  ought  to  be  imderstood  of 
the  humanity  only  of  Jesus  Christ,  makes 
this  remark,  '  that  they  arc  never  used  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  that  it  is  no  where  said  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  that  the  Father  is  greater  than 
hc.W 


rctavius. 


t  Bishop  Bull. 


*  Apol.  sec.  ad  Ant.  Fium.  p.  60.  edit.  Paris. 

t  Orisicn  against  Celsus,  boolt  8th. 

{  Ath.'in.  Dialog,  cont.  Maced. 

§  Cyril  Alex,  de  vera  fide.  c.  i26. 

II  August.  Ep.  (iO.  et  Jib.  2.  de  Trin.  c.  fi. 


Sek.  XXXII.j 


DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


'29a 


/ 


3.  The  fathers  who  lived  before  the  council 
of  Nice,  admitted  of  ^generation  of  the  Son 
of  God,  before  the  foundation  of  the  world, 
and  which  is  no  other  than  that  power  wliich 
proceeded  from  the  Father,  when  he  created 
the  universe.  We  must  take  care  not  to  be 
deceived  by  arguments  taken  from  such  pas- 
sages. It  cannot  be  concluded,  that  tliesc 
fatliers  denied  the  existence  of  Jesus  Christ 
before  the  foundation  of  the  world,  because 
they  said,  he  then  came  from  the  bosom  of 
the  Father.  Here  is  an  example  of  their  way 
of  expressing  this  generation.  '  1  am  going,' 
says  Tatian,  '  to  state  more  clearly  the  mys- 
teries of  our  religion.  In  the  beginning  was 
God.  Now  we  have  learnt,  that  this  begin- 
ning is  the  power  of  the  word  ;  for  the  Lord 
of  all  things  was  then  all  tlic  substance  of 
the  universe,  because,  having  then  made  no 
creature,  he  existed  alone.  Ey  his  simple 
will  his  word  proceeded  from  him.  Now  the 
word  did  not  advance  into  the  empty  void  : 
but  was  the  first  work  of  the  Spirit,  and  we 
know  this  is  the  principle  of  the  world.'* 
This  father  calls  this  c/ear/?/ stating  the  mys- 
teries of  our  religion.  Perhaps  he  might  find 
.'^ome  gainsayers.  However,  it  appears  by 
tliis  passage,  and  by  a  great  number  more, 
that  the  ancient  doctors  of  the  church  thought, 
Jesus  Christ  was  then  produced  after  a  cer- 
tain manner,  which  they  explained  according 
to  their  own  ideas.  We  do  not  deny  their 
holding  this  opinion.  We  only  say,  that  what 
they  advanced  concerning  this  production  in 
time,  does  not  prove  that  they  did  not  admit 
the  eternal  generation  of  Jesus  Christ. 

4.  We  do  not  pretend,  that  certain  expres- 
sions, v.-liich  the  orthodox  have  affected  since 
the  council  of  Nice,  were  received  in  the 
same  sense  before  that  council.  We  gene- 
rally see,  when  two  parties  warmly  contro- 
vert a  point,  they  affect  certain  expressions, 
and  use  them  as  tlieir  livery.  As  we  can 
never  find  terms  proper  to  express  this  union, 
or  this  ineffable  distinction  between  the 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Gliost,  so  we  must 
not  be  surprised,  that  the  church  has  varied 
on  this  article.  '  Necessity,'  says  St.  Austin, 
speaking  of  the  terms  used  in  disj)uting  witli 
the  Arians,  '  necessity  lias  given  birth  to 
tliese  terms,  in  order  to  avoid  the  snares  of 
heretics  in  long  discussions.'!  We  acknow- 
ledge then,  some  of  the  fathers  have  advanced 
that  the  Fatber  and  the  Son  liad  two  distinct 
essences,  or  two  different  natures.  Thus,  ac- 
cording to  Photius,  Pierius,  priest  and  mar- 
tyr,* and  Dennis  of  Rome,  in  a  letter  against 
the  Sabellians,§  declaimed  against  those  who 
divided  the  divinity  into  three  /lypustases ; 
or  three  persons.  And  thus  also  tJie  ortho- 
dox, assembled  in  council  at  Sardis,  complain- 
ed, tiiat  the  heretical  faction  wanted  to  esta- 
blish, that  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  were 
tliree  distinct  persotis :  '  for'  add  these  fatliers, 
'  our  ancestors  have  taught  us,  and  it  is  the 
catholic  and  apostolic  tradition,  that  there  is 
but  one  person  in  the  Divinity. '||     The  ques- 


tion is  not  whether  the  fathers  of  the  first 
ages  used  the  very  terms,  which  suceedinq," 
ages  have  used.  We  do  not  say  they  did. 
'  We  would  not  excite  odious  disputes  about 
words  provided  other  syllables  include  tht> 
same  opinion  ;'*  but  the  question  is,  whether 
they  had  the  same  ideas,  whether,  when  they 
said  there  were  three  essences  in  the  Deity 
and  one  person,  they  did  not  mean  by  essence 
what  we  mean  by  person,  and  by  person 
what  we  mean  by  essence. 

5.  We  must  take  care  not  to  lay  pown  for 
a  principle,  that  the  fathers  expressed  them- 
selves  justly,  that  their  words  were  al- 
ways the  most  proper  to  convey  adequate 
ideas  of  their  sentiments,  that  they  always 
reasoned  in  a  close  imiform  manner,  that 
their  thesis  in  some  pages  of  their  writings 
never  contradict  their  thesis  in  other  pages. 
The  sense  of  a  passage  in  Origen,  or  Tertul- 
lian,  divides  the  learned.  Some  affirm  these 
fathers  meant  one  thing,  others  say  thej' 
meant  another  thing.  Each  pretends  to  de- 
fine precisely  what  they  intended.  Is  there 
not  sometimes  a  third  part  to  take  ?  May  we 
not  believe  that  Origen  and  Tertullian,  in 
other  respects  great  men,  had  not  distinct 
ideas  of  what  they  meant  to  express,  and  did 
not  always  rightly  understand  themselves  .' 

G.  In  fine,  the  last  precaution  which  we 
must  use  to  understand  the  sentiments  of  tiie 
first  ecclesiastical  writers,  and  which  demands 
a  very  particular  attention,  is  not  to  be  de- 
ceived by  spurious  writings.  We  linow_ 
what  was  the  almost  general  weakness  of' 
Christians  of  those  times.  We  know  particu- 
larly, what  were  the  secret  dealings  of  the- 
Arians.  We  know  they  often  substituted 
power  for  reason,  and  craft  for  power,  when 
authority  was  wanting.  Among  spurious 
writings,  those  which  have  the  most  certain 
marks  of  reprobation,  are  frequently  thoso 
which  have  the  most  venerable  titles.  Sucli- 
amonc  others,  is  that  which  bears  tb.e  fine 
name  of  apostolical  constitutions.  It  is  very 
surprising,  that  a  man  who  cannot  be  justly 
taxed  with  ignorance  of  the  writingsof  the  an- 
cient fathers,  should  advance  this  unwarrant- 
able proposition.  This  book  is  of  apostolical  au- 
thority.! The  doctor  threatens  the  churcli 
with  a  great  volume  to  establish  his  opinion, 
and  to  forward  in  the  end  the  dreadful  design 
which  he  has  formed  and  declared  of  reviving 
Arianism.  Time  will  convince  the  learned, 
on  what  unheard  of  reasons  this  man  grounds 
his  pretensions.  Who  can  persuade  himself, 
that  a  book,  the  spuriousness  of  which  has  been 
acknowledged,  even  by  those  who  had  the 
greatest  interest  in  defending  its  authenticity, 
by  Bcllarmine,};  Baronius,!)  Petavius,||  Dii 
PerronIT  and  many  others;  a  book,  which 
none  of  the  fatliers,  none  of  the  councils,  even 
those  which  have  given  us  lists  of  the  canon- 
ical books,  have  ever  comprised  in  the  canon;^, 
a  book  of  which  there  is  no  trace  in  the  three 
first  centuries,  nor  hardly  any  in  those  whicli 
immediately  follow;   a  book  full  of  passages 


*  Tatian.  oral.  con.  Gr;i;c.    foe  Theopli.  Anti.  lib. 
2.  ad    Autol.  Tertull.  atlv.  Prax.  p.  oOJ.  edit.  Kigali. 
t   August  lib.  7.  (le.  trin.  cap.  4. 
i  Phot.  llil>.  Cod.  i.  9. 
^  AUian.  de?vii.  Nic.decr. 
11  Thcod.  Hist.  K-.-cl.  lib.  3,  chap.  S. 


*  fJreg.  Xa/ianz.  f '^Ir-'W'liiston. 

}  liellarm.  de  script,  prcl.  sect.  1. 

\  Baron,  toin.  1.  an.  'A-i. 

II  Du  Per.de  Encli.  1.'2.  e.  1. 

If  Cone.  Laud.  Dd  counc.  of  Carthage. 


296 


DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


[Seh.  XXXII. 


of  Scripture  misquoted  ;*  a  book  whicli  i 
makes  decisions  contrary  to  the  inspired  wri- 
tings ;l  as  one  decision  touching  the  obser- 
vation of  the  Sabbath,  another  concerning  | 
women  with  child,  a  third,  which  allows  a  I 
master  a  forbidden  intercourse  with  his  slave  ; 
a  book  that  bestows  pompous  titles  on  a  bisliop, 
giving  him  a  pre-eminence  above  magistr;des, 
princes,  and  kings ;  a  book  that  prescribes 
idle  ceremonies  in  baptism,  and  enjoins  the 
observation  of  superstitious  fasts  and  festivals ; 
a  book  which  gives  an  absurd  idea  of  building 
temples ;  a  book  that  establishes  prayer  for 
the  dead,  and  direct.-;  us  to  offer  the  sacrament 
of  the  Eucharist  for  them  ;  a  book  which 
adopts  notorious  fables,  as  the  pretended  com- 
bat between  Simon  the  sorcerer,  and  Simon 
Peter;  a  book  where  we  meet  with  glaring 
contradictions,  as  what  it  says  of  St.  Stephen 
in  one  place,  compared  with  what  it  says  of 
him  in  another  ;  a  book  where  we  meet  with 
profane  things,  as  the  comparison  of  a  bishop 
with  God  the  Father,  of  Jesus  Christ  with  a 
deacon,  of  the  Holy  Ghost  with  a  deaconess  ; 
■who,  I  say,  can  persuade  himself,  that  such  a 
book  was  compiled  by  apostles  or  apostolical 
men. 

Such  are  the  precautions  necessary  for  un- 
derstanding the  sentiments  of  the  fathers  of  the 
first  ages  on  the  doctrine  in  question.  Let 
us  pass  on  to  some  proofs  of  our  conformity 
to  their  judgments  on  this  article. 

1.  The  fathers,  who  followed  the  doctrine 
of  the  Nicence  Council,  never  pretended  to 
teach  new  divinity.  The  Arians  on  the  con- 
trary, boasted  of  being  the  first  inventors  of 
their  own  system.  The  following  passage  of 
St.  Athanasius  proves  the  first  member  of 
this  proposition.  '  We  demonstrate,  that  our 
doctrine  descended  from  teacher  to  teacher 
down  to  us.  But  what  father  can  you  cite  to 
prove  your  sentiments.'  You  find  them  all 
opposite  to  your  opinions,  and  the  devil  only, 
who  is  the  author  of  your  system,  can  pretend 
to  authenticate  it.'t  The  following  passage 
of  Theodoret  proves  the  second  member  of 
the  proposition.  '  They  boast  of  being  the 
first  inventors  of  their  doctrine,  they  glory  in 
affirming,  that  what  never  entered  into  the 
mind  of  man  before  has  been  revealed  to 
them.'^ 

2.  The  Jews  accused  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians of  idolatry  for  worshipping  Jesus 
Christ  as  God,  nor  did  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians deny  their  worshipping  Jesus  as  God ; 
they  only  maintained,  that  to  worship  him  as 
such  was  not  idolatry.  Here  is  a  passage 
from  Justin's  Dialogue  with  Trypho.  The 
Jews  say  to  him,  '  Your  affirmation,  Christ  is 
God,  appears  to  me  not  only  an  incredible 
paradox,  but  downright  foolishness.'  Justin's 
answer  will  prove  the  second  member  of  the 
proposition  ;  '  I  know,'  replies  he,  '  this  dis- 
course appears  incredible,  particularl3?  ^^  Peo- 
ple of  your  nation,  who  neither  believe  nor 
understand  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God.' 


*Book  1.  chap.  5.  Ainst.  edit.  Frob.  p.221 .214.  402- 
293,  &c. 

t  Rook  2.  chap.  36. 

References  to  allthc  other  articles  arc  in  Mr.  S.  but 
omitted  for  brevity  sake  here. 

t  Atiiaii.  lib.  1.  de  Svn.  Nic.  dec. 
^Theod.  iHst.  Kc.'lib.  1.  cap.  .\.    Sec  See.  Hist. 
Ecd.  lib.  5.  cap.  10. 


3.  The  heathens  also  reproached  the 
Christians,  with  adoring  Jesus  Christ :  nor 
did  the  Christians  tax  them  with  calumny  on 
this  account.  Weigh  these  words  of  Arnobi- 
us.  A  pagan  makes  this  objection  to  him ; 
*  You  adore  a  mere  man.'  '  If  this  were  true,' 
replies  Arnobius,  '  would  not  the  benefits, 
which  he  has  so  freely  and  bountifully  diffu- 
sed, acquire  him  the  title  of  a  God  ?  But  as 
he  is  really  God  without  any  ambiguity  or 
equivocation,  do  yon  think  we  will  deny  our 
paying  him  supreme  honours  ?  What  then,  will 
some  furiously  ask.  Is  Jesus  Christ  God .'  Yes, 
we  answer,  he  is  God,  he  is  God  over  allhea- 
venly  powers.'*  Origen  answered  the  philoso- 
pher Celsus,  who  reproached  him  with  believ- 
ing that  a  man  clothed  in  mortal  flesh  was  God, 
in  this  manner.  Let  our  accusers  know,  that 
this  Jesus,  who,  we  believe,  is  God,  and  the 
Son  of  God,  is  the  Word  of  God,  his  mortal 
body  and  his  soul  have  received  great  advan- 
tages from  their  union  with  the  Word,  and, 
having  partaken  of  the  divinity,  have  been 
admitted  to  the  divine  nature.! 

4.  When  any  teachers  rose  up  in  the 
church  to  injure  the  doctrine  of  Christ's  divi- 
nity, they  were  reputed  heretics,  and  as  such 
rejected.  Witness  Artemon,  Theodosius, 
Paul  of  Samoseta.  The  latter  lifted  up  a 
standard  against  the  divinity  of  the  Saviour 
of  the  world,  and  six  of  the  most  celebrated 
bishops  were  chosen  by  the  synod  of  Antioch 
to  write  him  a  letter,  which  we  yet  have, 
and  in  which  they  profess  to  believe,  that 
Jesus  Christ  substituted  from  all  eternity 
with  his  Father.!  To  which  we  add  this  pas- 
sage of  Origen,  '  Let  us  represent  as  fully 
as  we  are  able  what  constitutes  heresy.  He 
is  a  heretic  who  has  false  notions  about  our 
Lord  Jesus  '■  .Christ.  Such  as  deny  that  he 
was  the  first-born,  the  God  of  every  creature, 
the  word,  the  wisdom,  the  beginning  of  the 
ways  of  God,  '  formed  from  the  beginning, 
or  ever  the  world  was,  begotten  before  the 
mountains  and  hills.'  ^  Prov.  viii. 

5.  The  fathers  of  the  three  centuries  made 
an  invariable  profession  of  adoring  but  one 
God.  This  was,  as  it  were,  the  first  distinct 
character  of  their  religion.  Yet  the  primi- 
tive Christians  adored  Jesus  Christ ;  witness 
Pliny's  letter,  which  says, '  they  sang  hymns 
to  Jesus  Christ  as  to  a  God.'||  Witness  Jus- 
tin Martyr,  who,  in  his  Apology  to  Antonius, 
expressly  says,  '  Christians  religiously  wor- 
ship Father,  Son,  and  Spirit '  And  in  the 
same  apology  he  assures  us,  that  '  the  con- 
stant doctrine  of  Christians,  which  they  re- 
ceived from  Jesus  Christ  himself,  was  the 
adoration  of  one  only  God.'  Witness  that 
famous  letter  of  the  faithful  at  Smyrna, 
whom  the  heathens  accused  of  paying  divine 
honours  to  Polycarp.  '  It  is  impossible,'  say 
these  believers,  '  that  wf  should  abandon  Je- 
sus Christ,  or  worship  any  olhcr  but  him.  We 
worship  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  the  S.  i\  ■'"God  : 
but  in  regard  to  the  martyrs,  disciples  of 
Christ,  and  imitators  of  his  virtues,  we  re- 
spect them  for  their  invincible  love  to  their 

*  Araob.  lib.  1.  f  Orig.  contra  Celsuni,  lib.  '.t. 

i  Euseb.  Eccl.  Hist.  lib.  5  Athan.  de  Syn.  Arini. 
et.  Seleuc.  Bibliot.  de.«  pores,  torn.  2. 

^  Apol.  Painpli.  Mart,  iu  the  4th  vol.  of  St.  Jerome's 
works.  Edit.  Froben.  ||  Lib.  lO.Epist.  97. 


Ser.  XXXII.] 


DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


297 


Master  and  King.'  Hence  it  was,  that  Paul 
of  Samoseta,  who  denied  the  divinity  of 
Christ,  would  not  allow  the  custom  of  sing- 
ing  hymns  to  his  honour :  and  Eusebius  uses 
this  argument  to  prove  the  doctrine  that  we 
are  maintaining  :  '  The  psalms  and  hymns,' 
says  he,  '  composed  a  long  time  ago  by  the 
faithful,  do  they  not  proclaim,  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  Word  of  God,  that  he  is  God  ?'" 

6.  Finally,  Among  numberless  passages  in 
the  fathers,  which  attest  the  truth  in  ques- 
tion, there  are  some  so  clear  and  so  express, 
that  we   ourselves,  who   would  prove  their 
faith  in  our  Saviour's  divinity,  cannot  dictate 
terms  more  emphatical  than  those  which  they 
have  used.   Weigh  these  words  of  Tertullian. 
'  Jesus  Christ  had  the  substance  of  the  hu- 
man nature,  and  the  substance  of  the  divine 
nature  ;  on  which  account  we  say,  he  had  a 
beginning,  and  he  had  no  beginning  ;  he  was 
natural  and  spiritual ;  weak    and  powerful ; 
mortal  and  immortal;  properties  (adds  this 
father)  which  distinguish  his  human  and  di- 
vine  nature. 't     Weigh   these   words   of  the 
the  same  Tertullian.    '  We  have  been  taught 
that  God  brought  forth  that  Spirit,  which 
we  call  the  Word,  that  God  by  bringing  him 
forth  begat  him,  that  for  this  reason  he  is 
called   the   Son   of  God,   because   his   sub-  | 
stance  and  the  substance  of  God  is  one  and  ] 
the  same   substance ;    as   a   ray  proceeding  i 
from  the  body  of  the  sun,  receives  a  part  of ! 
its  light  without  diminishing  the  light  of  the  I 
sun,  so  in  the  generation  of  the  word,  spirit  i 
is  derived  of  spirit,  and  God  of  God.     As  the  i 
light  of  a   flambeau  derived  from  another  j 
does  not  at  all  diminish  the  light  whence  it , 
is  taken,  so   it  is  with  God.     That  which  | 
proceeds  from  him  is  God,  both   God  and  i 
Son  of  God,  one  with  the  Father,  and  the  j 
Father  with  him.     It  follows,  that  this  dis-  j 
tlnction  of  spirit  from  spirit,  of  God  from  . 
God,   is  not  in   substance  but   in  person. 't  i 
Weigh  again  these  words  of  Hyppolitus  the  [ 
mart}'r.     '  Thou  art  he,  who  existeth  always.  I 
Thou  art  with  the  Father  without  beginning,  i 
and  eternal   as  well  as   the    Holy  Spirit.' §  ] 
Again,  weigh  these   words  of  Origen.     In 
examining  what  doctrines  are  necessary  to 
salvation,  he  puts  this  in  the  first  class :  '  Je- 
sus Christ,  who,  ,being  God,  became  incar- 
nate, did  not  cease   to  be   God.'||      Again, 
weigh  these  of  Justin  Martyr.    '  They  call 
us  Atheists,  because  we  do  not  adore  their 
demons.     We  grant  we  are  such  in  regard 
to  their  gods :  but  not  in  regard   to  the  true 
God,  with  whom  we  honour  and  worship  the 
Son. 'IT    Finally,  weigh  these  of  Pope  Felix. 
'  We  believe,  Jesus  Christ  the  Word  is  the 
eternal  Son  of  God.'"* 

No  part  of  our  discourse  would  bear  a  great- 
enlargement  than  this.  Literally  speaking, 
the  subject  exemplified  from  the  fathers  would 
fill  a  large  volume.  We  have  abridged  the 
matter.  Let  us  finish  with  a  few  reflections 
of  another  kind  in  our  text. 


28. 


Euseb.  Hist.  Eccl.  book  7.  chap.  30.  book  5.  chap. 


t  Tertul.  de  Carne  Christi. 

i  Tertul.  adv.  Gen.  Apol.  cap. 21. 

<)  Bibl.  Patr.  torn.  12. 

II  Origen  cent.  Cels.  lib.  5. 

rr  Just.  Mart.  Apol.  2. 

^*  Cone.  Ephcs.  act.  I. 


We  have  endeavoured  to  prove,  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  supremely  adorable,  and  supremely 
adored.  Christians,  what  idea  do  you  form 
of  this  doctrine  .'  Do  we  think,  we  have 
done  all  that  this  doctrine  engages  us  to  do, 
when  we  have  signalized  our  zeal  by  affirm- 
ing and  defending  it .''  Shall  we  be  of  that 
number  of  extravagant  people,  who,  having, 
established  the  truth  with  warmth ;  some- 
times with  wrath  (placing  their  passions  to 
the  account  of  religion)  imagine,  they  have 
thereby  acquired  a  right  of  refusing  to  Jesus 
Christ  that  unlimited  obedience  which  bo  di- 
rectly follows  the  doctrine  of  his  divinity  ? 
The  sacred  authors,  whom  we  have  followed 
in  proving  this  doctrine,  draw  very  diflferent 
consequences  from  it.  They  use  it  to  inflame 
our  love  for  a  God,  who  '  so  loved  the  world 
as  to  give  his  only  begotten  Son,'  John  iii.  IG. 
They  use  it  to  elevate  us  to  the  sublimest 
hopes,  declaring  it  impossible  for  him, '  who 
gave  his  own  Son  not  to  give  us  all 
things  freely  with  him,'  Rom.  iii.  31.  They 
use  it  to  enforce  every  virtue,  particularly 
humility,  a  virtue  essential  to  a  Christian  ; 
and  wlien  order  requires  it,  to  sacrifice  the 
titles  of  Noble  Sovereign,  Potentate,  Mo- 
narch, after  the  example  of  this  God-man, 
who  '  being  in  the  form  of  God,  and  counting 
it  no  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God,  humbled 
himself,'  Phil.  ii.  6.  They  use  it  to  exalt  the 
evangelical  dispensation  above  the  Mosaical 
economy,  and  the  superiority  of  the  former 
to  prove,  that  piety  should  be  carried  to  a 
more  eminent  degree  now  than  formerly; 
for  God,  '  who  spake  to  the  fathers  by  the 
prophets,  hath  in  these  last  days  spoken  to 
us  by  his  Son,'  Heb.  i.  1.  They  use  it  to 
prove,  that  the  condition  of  a  wicked  Chris- 
tian would  be  infinitely  worse  after  this  life 
than  that  of  a  wicked  Jew  ;  for  '  if  the  word 
spoken  by  angels  was  steadfast,  and  every 
transgression  and  disobedience  received  a 
just  recompense  of  reward,  how  shall  we  es- 
cape if  we  neglect  so  great  salvation,  which 
at  the  first  began  to  be  spoken  by  the  Lord  .'' 
ii.  2.  '  He  that  despised  Moses's  law,  died 
without  mercy,  under  two  or  three  witness- 
es ;  of  how  much  sorer  punishment,  suppose 
ye,  shall  he  be  counted  worthy,  who  hatli 
trodden  under  foot  the  Son  of  God  .''  x.  28, 
29.  They  use  it  to  describe  the  despair  of 
those,  who  shall  see  him  come  in  divine  pomp, 
whom  they  once  despised  under  the  veil  of 
mortal  flesh ,  for  '  they  that  pierced  him  shall 
see  him,  and  the  kings  of  the  earth,  and  the 
great  men,  and  the  rich  men,  and  the  chief 
captains,  and  the  mighty  men,  and  every 
bondman,  and  every  freeman,  shall  hide 
themselves  in  the  dens,  and  in  the  rocks  of 
the  mountams,  and  shall  say  to  tlie  moun- 
tains and  rocks,  fall  on  us  and  hide  us  from 
the  face  of  him  that  sittethonthe  throne,  and 
from  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb.  For  the  great 
day  of  his  wrath  is  come,  and  who  shall  be 
able  to  stand  .''  Rev.  i.  7,  and  vi.  15,  &c. 

Our  second  reflection  is  on  that  multitude 
of  intelligences,  which  continually'wait  around 
the  throne  of  God.  Hear  what  Daniel  says, 
'  Thousand  thousands  ministered  unto  him, 
ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  stood  before 
him,'  vii.  10.  Hear  what  Micaiah  says, '  I 
saw  the  Lord  sitting  on  his  throne,  and  all 


298 


DIVINITY  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 


[Slu.  XXXII. 


the  host  of  heaven  standing  by  him,  on  his 
right  hand  and  on  his  left,'  1  Kings  xxii.  19. 
Hear  what  the  Psahnist  says,  '  The  chariots 
of  God  are  twenty  tliousand,  even  thousands 
of  angels,'  Ps.  Ixviii.  17.  Hear  what  St. 
Luke  says,  '  There  was  a  multitude  of  the 
heavenly  host  praising  God  and  saying, 
Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,'  ii.  13.  Hear 
what  Jesus  Christ  says,  '  Thinkest  thou  that 
I  cannot  now  pray  to  my  Fatlier,  and  he  shall 
presently  give  me  more  tlian  twelve  legions 
of  angels.-"  Matt.  xxvi.  53.  Hear  what  our 
text  says,  '  The  number  of  them  was  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousand,  and  thousands 
of  thousands.'  My  brethren,  one  of  the  most 
dangerous  temptations,  to  which  a  believer  is 
exposed  in  this  world,  is  that  of  seeing  him- 
self despised.  He  sometimes,  like  Elias, 
thitiks  himself  alone  on  the  Lord's  side,  1 
Kings  xix.  10.  Like  Joshua,  he  is  some- 
times obliged  to  say  of  his  duty, '  Choose  you 
whom  you  will  serve :  but  as  for  me  and  my 
liouse,  we  will  serve  the  Lord,'xxiv.  15,  The 
church  is  yet  a  'little  flock,'  Luke  xii.  32, 
and  although  we  cannot  say  of  the  external 
profession  of  religion  as  St.  Paul  says, '  Ye 
see  your  calling  brethren,  that  not  many 
mighty,  not  many  wise,  not  many  noble  are 
called,'  1  Cor.  i.  26,  yet  it  may  be  too  truly 
said  of  the  reality  and  essence  of  Christiani- 
ty. No,  we  have, '  not  many  noble.'  They 
are  called  noble  in  the  world,  who  have,  or 
who  pretend  to  have,  some  ancient  titles, 
and  who  are  often  ashamed  of  those  whom 
Jesus  Christ  has  ennobled,  associated  into  his 
family,  made  '  partakers  of  the  divine  na- 
ture, and  changed  from  glory  to  glory  by  his 
Spirit,'  2  Pet.  i.  4.  We  have  very  few  of 
these  nobles.  No,  we  have  not '  many  migii- 
ty,'2  Cor.  iii.  18.  They  are  called  mighty  in 
the  world,  who  have  the  art  of  surmounting 
every  obstacle  in  the  path  that  leads  to  for- 
tune, who,  in  spite  of  the  world  of  opposers, 
have  tlie  art  of  arriving  at  the  pinnacle  of 
worldly  grandeur,  and  making  the  difficul- 
ties opposed  to  their  designs  the  means  of 
-succeeding.  These  people  generally  enter- 
tain a  contemptible  idea  of  such  as  are  con- 
centered in  virtue,  who  use  it  both  as  buck- 
ler and  sword  to  conquer  flesh  and  blood,  '  the 
prince  of  the  power  of  the  air,'  and  his  formi- 
dable legions,  Eph.  ii.  2.  We  have  but  few 
such  mighty  ones  as  these.  No,  we  have 
^  not  many  wise.'  They  are  called  wise  in  this 
world,  who,  by  the  impenetrable  secrets  of  a 
profound  policy,  find  new  ways  of  supporting 
tiie  state,  and  of  deriving  from  public  pros- 
])erity  a  fund  to  maintain  their  own  pomp. 
Those  are  usually  despised,  Vi'ho  possess  that 
fear  of  the  Lord,  which  '  is  the  beginning  of 
wisdom,'  of  that  '  wi.sdom  among  them  that 
^re  perfect,'  Prov.  i.  7;  1  Cor.  ii.  G,  which  we 
are  taught  in  the  gospel.  We  have  very  few 
oi' these  wise  men.  What  then  I  have  false- 
hood and  vice  more  partizafis  than  virtue  and 
truth  f  What  then  I  shall  we  have  less  appro- 
bation in  submitting  to  God  than  in  submit- 
ting to  the  devil .''  Far  from  us  be  an  idea  so 
puerile  !  Let  us  cease  to  consider  this  little 
handful  of  men  who  surround  us,  as  if  they 
made  up  tlie  universality  of  intelligences ; 
and  this  earth,  this  point,  this  atom,  as  if  it 
v,-ere  the  immensity  of  space.    Let  us  open 


our  eyes.  Let  our  text  produce  the  same 
effect  in  us  to-day  as  Elisha's  voice  once  pro- 
duced in  his  servant.  All  on  a  sudden  they 
were  surrounded  with  soldiers,  armies,  and 
chariots,  sent  by  the  Syrian  king  to  carry  off 
Elisha.  The  servant  is  frighted  ;  '  Alas  my 
master  !'  says  he,  '  what  shall  we  do.''  Fear 
not,'  answers  Elisha,  '  they  that  be  with  us 
are  more  than  tliey  that  be  with  them.'  And 
Elisha  prayed,  and  said.  Lord  I  pray  thee, 
open  his  eyes,  that  he  may  see.  And  what 
does  he  see  ?  '  He  sees  the  mountain  full  of 
horses  and  chariots  of  fire  round  about  Eli- 
sha,' 1  Kings  vi.  15,  &c.  Believers,  ye,  who 
think  yourselves  alone  on  the  Lord's  side, 
ye  who  tremble  at  the  sight  of  the  formida- 
ble troops  which  the  enemy  of  your  salvation 
has  sent  against  you,  ye,  who  cry,  '  What 
shall  we  do.''  '  Fear  not,  they  that  are  with 
us,  are  more  than  they  that  are  with  them. 
.  .  .  .  O  Lord,  open  their  eyes  that  they 
may  see.'  See  Christians!  see  whether  ye 
be  alone.  See  those  '  ten  thousand  times 
ten  thousands,  that  stand  before  him.'  Sec 
these  '  heavenly  hosts,'  which  surround  his 
throne  '  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left.' 
See  the  '  twenty  thousand  chariots.'  See 
legions  of  angels  and  elders, '  whose  numbers 
are  twenty  thousand  times  ten  thousand,'* 
Rev.  ix.  IG.  These  are  your  companions, 
these  your  approvers,  these  your  defend- 
ers. 

3.  But  what  are  the  delights  of  these  in- 
telligences.-'  You  have  heard,  "my  brethren, 
(and  this  is  our  third  reflection),  their  felicity, 
their  delights  consists  in  rendering  supreme 
honours  to  God.  '  And  I  beheld  and  heard 
the  voice  of  many  angels,  roimd  about  the 
throne,  saying  with  a  loud  voice,  Worthy  is 
the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  to  receive  power, 
and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength.'  A  re- 
flection very  proper  to  humble  and  confound 
us,  whose  taste  is  so  vitiated  and  depraved. 
I  am  aware,  that  nothing  is  less  subject  to 
our  decisions  than  taste.  I  am  aware,  that 
what  is  delicious  to  one  is  disgustful  to  ano- 
ther, and,  as  it  would  be  stupid  to  e.\'pect  a 
sublime  spirit  should  take  pleasure  in  tlio 
gross  occupations  of  a  meciianic,  so  it  would 
be  unjust  to  expect  that  a  mechanic  should 
be  pleased  with  the  noble  speculations  of  a 
sublime  genius.  I  know,  the  difference  be- 
tween us  and  these  intelligences  is  sucli  as  not 
to  allow  our  pleasures  to  be  of  the  same 
kind.  But,  after  all,  is  this  difference  so 
great  as  to  make  such  a  disproportion  in  our 
delights .'  Do  we  not  aspire  to  divine  happi- 
ness as  well  as  they .'  And  if  the  fle.sh, 
which  covers  that  spiritual  substance,  that 
animates  us,  places  us  so  far  beneath  them,  is 
not  the  honour,  which  this  flesh  has  received 
by  the  incarnatioii  of  the  Word,  who  '  took 
not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels  but  the  seed 
of  Abraham,'  Heb.  ii.  IG,  is  not  this  more 
than  enough  to  remove  the  prodigious  dis- 
tance, which  the  sublimity  of  their  essence 
puts  between  us  and  them .-'  at  least,  should  it 
not  make   us  lament  the   depravity  of  our 


*  Rev.  ix.  IG.  Two  hundred  tliousand  ttiousanil. 
Viiigt  niille  Ibis  di.x  iiiille.  Dua;  inyriades  myrindiim. 
Indefinite  intclligcndum,  more  llcbra-'o,  pro  ingonii 
immcro. 


Seb.  XXXIII] 


CHRIST  THE  SUBSTANCE,  &c. 


299 


taste,  if  it  be  not  sufficient  perfectly  to  re- 
store it  ?  Christians,  the  plan  of  our  evange- 
lical felicity  is  founded  on  that  of  celestial 
felicity.  Christians  are  called,  even  here  be- 
low, to  taste  those  noble  pleasures,  which 
are  so  delightful  to  the  blessed  above.  Let 
us  feel  these  pleasures,  my  brethren.  Let  us 
feel  the  pleasure  of  rendering  to  God  the 
liomage  of  the  mind.  Let  us  soar  into  a 
sublime  meditation  of  his  essence.  Of  his 
perfections  let  us  form  the  most  elevated 
ideas,  that  our  diminutive  capacities  can  per- 
mit. Let  us  conceive,  as  far  as  we  possibly 
can,  a  wise  God,  supremely  powerful,  su- 
premely holy,  supremely  good.  liCt  us  as- 
sociate his  glorious  attribute,  and,  judging 
by  the  splendour  of  these  feeble  rays,  of  some 
of  the  beauties  of  the  original,  let  us  adore 
this  Great  Supreme.  Let  us  feel  the  plea- 
sure of  rendering  to  God  the  honiage  of  the 
heart.  Let  us  measure  the  dimensions  of  love 
divine.  Let  us  lose  ourselves  in  the  '  length, 
in  the  breadth,  in  the  height,  in  the  depth  of 
that  love,  which  passeth  knowledge,'  Eph. 
iii.  18.  Let  us  conceive  the  inexpressible 
felicity  of  an  intimate  union  with  the  happy 
God,  1  Tim.  vi.  15.  Let  us  reflect  on  the 
happiness  of  a  creature,  who  has  a  relation 
of  love  to  a  God,  who  knows  how  to  love 
with  so  much  extent,  with  so  much  pit}',  with 
so  much  power.  Let  us  feel  the  pleasure  of 
rendering  to  God  the  homage  of  an  entire 
devotedness,  the  submission  of  all  our  de- 
sires. Slaves  of  the  world,  let  us  free  our 
selves  from   sensuality  and  cupidity,  let  us 


shake  off  the  yoke  of  these  domineering  pas- 
sions, let  us  '  submit  ourselves  to  God,'  James 
iv.  7.  Thus  let  us  taste  the  felicity  of  return- 
ing to  order,  of  obeying  that  God,  all  whose 
commands  enforce  love  to  what  is  supremely 
lovely. 

True,  decictful  world!  thou  wilt  yet  oppose 
our  real  pleasures.  True,sensual  flesh  I  thou 
wilt  yet  solicit  us  to  pleasures  agreeable 
to  thy  corruption.  True,  worldly  pomp ! 
thou  wilt  again  dazzle  us  with  thy  vain 
glory.  But  thou  worldly  pomp  shalt  pre- 
sently vanish !  thou  sensual  flesh  shalt  pre- 
sently fall  into  tlie  dust  I  thou  also,  deceit- 
ful '  fashion  of  the  world,'*  thou  shalt  pre- 
sently pass  away  !  1  Cor.  vii.  31  ;  presently 
these  auditors,  who  have  endeavoured  to  ap- 
proach nearest  to  angelical  pleasures,  shall 
approach  them  entirely.  Shortly  this  flock 
shall  be  numbered  with  the  '  twenty  thousand 
times  ten  thousand.'  Presently  the  voices, 
which  have  made  these  walls  resound  the 
Creator's  praise,  shall  sing  it  in  a  nobler  man- 
ner, and  shall  make  the  heavenly  arches  echo 
the  hymn  in  my  text,  '  Worthy  is  the  Lamb 
to  receive  honour,  power,  riches,  wisdom, 
strength^  fflo'"}')  ^^^  blessing.'  To  him,  that 
sitteth  on  the  throne,  and  to  the  Lamb,  bo 
blessing,  and  honour,  and  glory,  for  ever  and 
ever.    Amen.' 


*  1  Cor.  vii.  31.  Fashion  of  tliis  world,  lo  (r/jt/xa. 
rev  KOTfAcu  Tomou  Locutio  atlieatro  et scenis  desunipta , 
quae  subito  cum  perso'iis  mutantiir.  Figxirt  ilu  mowit 
trompeur. 


SERMON    XXXIII. 


CHRIST  THE  SUBSTANCE  OF  THE  ANCIENT   SACRIFICE   OF  THE  LAW. 


HEBREWS    X.  5 7, 


Sacrifice  and  offering  thou  wouldst  not :  but  a  body  hast  thou  prepared  me. 
In  burnt -offerings,  and  sacrifices  for  sin  thou  hast  had  no  pleasure :  then 
said  I,  lo  !  I  come  (in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  ivriitcn  ofmc),  to  do  thy 
icill,  O  God. 


To  take  Jesus  Christ  for  our  Redeemer 
and  for  our  example  is  an  abridgment  of  re- 
ligion, and  the  only  way  to  heaven. 

If  Jesus  Christ  be  not  taken  for  our  Re- 
deemer, alas  !  how  can  we  bear  the  looks  of 
a  God,  '  who  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold 
evil .'"  Hab.  i.  13.  How  can  we  hope  to  please 
with  prayers  debased  by  numberless  imperfec- 
tions ;  with  a  repentance,  in  which  a  regret 
for  not  daring  to  repeat  a  crime  too  often 
mi.xes  with  a  sorrow  for  having  committed 
it ;  with  a  love  of  which  self-interest  is  always 
the  first  spring  ;  how,  I  say,  can  we  hope 
with  our  sinful  services  to  please  a  God,  be- 
fore whom  seraphim  veil  their  faces,  and  in 
whose  sight  the  heavens  themselves  are  un- 
clean .'' 

If  we  do  not  take  Jesus  Christ  for  our  ex- 
ample, with  what  face  can  we  take  him  for 


our  Redeemer  ?  Should  we  make  the  mys- 
teries of  religion  mysteries  of  iniquity .'  Should 
we  wish,  that  he,  who  came  into  the  world 
on  purpose  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil, 
would  re-establish  them,  in  order  to  fill  up 
the  communion  with  this  wicked  spirit  that 
void,  which  communion  with  Christ  leaves.' 
But  to  take  Jesus  Christ  for  a  Redeemer  and 
to  take  him  for  a  model,  is  to  unite  all  that 
can  procure  our  supreme  felicity  ;  it  is,  as  I 
said  before,  an  abridgment  of  religion,  and 
the  only  way  to  heaven. 

In  these  two  points  of  light  St.  Paul  pre- 
sents our  divine  Saviour  to  the  view  of  the 
Hebrews,  in  this  chapter,  from  which  we 
have  taken  the  text,  and  in  some  following 
chapters.  It  was  necessary  to  convince  men, 
educated  in  Judaism,  new  converts  to  Chris- 
tianity, and  greatly  prejudiced  in  favour  of 


300 


CHRIST  THE  SUBSTANCE  OF  THE 


[Ser.  xxxm. 


the  magnificence  of  the  Levitical  service, 
that  the  most  pompous  parts  of  the  Mosaic 
ritual,  the  altars  and  tlie  offerings,  the  priests 
and  the  sacrifices,  the  temple  and  all  its 
ceremonies,  were  designed  to  prefigure  the 
sacrifice  on  the  cross.  It  was  necessary  to 
convince  men,  who  were  as  little  acquainted 
with  the  morality  of  the  gospel  as  with  the 
divinity  of  it,  that,  far  from  using  this  oblation 
to  diminish  in  the  least  degree  the  motives 
which  engage  every  intelligent  creature  to 
devote  himself  to  his  Creator,  it  was  employ- 
ed to  give  them  all  new  and  additional  in- 
fluence. St.  Paul  intended  to  convince  the 
Jewish  converts  of  these  truths  in  this  epistle 
in  general,  and  in  my  text  in  particular.  But 
is  the  doctrine  of  my  text  addressed  to  new 
converts  only .''  Suppose  the  doctrine  address- 
ed particularly  to  them,  does  it  follow,  that  it 
is  needless  to  preach  it  in  this  pulpit.'  We 
will  not  examine  these  questions  now.  How- 
ever averse  we  are  to  consume  the  precious 
moments  of  these  exercises  in  scholastic  de- 
bates, the  words,  that  we  have  read,  furnish 
ns  with  a  most  specious  pretext  for  a  minute 
discussion  of  them.  Are  the  words  of  my 
text  to  be  considered  as  the  language  of 
Jesus  Christ,  as  the  far  greater  number  of 
expositors,  for  very  strong  reasons,  maintain  ? 
Are  they  the  words  of  David,  who,  consider- 
intr  the  many  reasons,  which  persuade  us  to 
believe,  that  the  dedications  of  our  persons  to 
the  service  of  God  are  the  most  acceptable  of 
all  sacrifices  to  him,  vows  to  devote  himself 
to  his  service .'  We  answer  they  are  the  words 
of  Jesus  Christ ;  they  are  the  words  of  David; 
and  they  express  the  sentiments  of  all  true 
behevers  after  him.  We  are  going  to  prove 
these  assertions. 

First,  we  will  consider  the  text,  as  proceed- 
ing from  the  mouth  of  Jesus  Christ.  We  will 
show  you  Jesus  substituting  the  sacrifice  of  his 
body  instead  of  those  of  the  Jewish  economy. 
Secondly,  W^e  will  put  the  words  of  the 
text  into  your  mouths,  and  endeavour  to  con- 
vince you,  that  this  second  sense  of  the  text 
is  clearly  deducible  from  the  first,  and  neces- 
sarily connected  with  it.  Having  excited 
your  admiration  in  the  first  part  of  this  dis- 
course, at  that  inestimable  gift  of  God,  his 
beloved  Son,  we  will  endeavour,  in  the 
second,  to  excite  suitable  sentiments  of  gra- 
titude in  each  of  your  hearts. 

Great  God !  What  bounds  can  I  henceforth 
set  to  my  gratitude  .'  Can  I  be  so  stupid  as  to 
imagine,  that  I  express  a  sufficient  sense  of 
thy  beneficence  by  singing  a  psalm,  and  by 
performing  a  lifeless  ceremony.''  I  feel  irregular 
propensities.  Great  God !  to  thee  I  sacri- 
fice them  all.  My  body  rebels  against  thy 
laws.  To  thee  I  offer  it  in  sacrifice.  My 
heart  is  susceptible  of  fervour  and  flame. 
For  thee,  my  God!  may  it  for  ever  burn  ! 
'  Sacrifice  and  offering  thou  wouldst  not : 
but  a  body  hast  thou  prepared  me.  In  burnt- 
offerings,  and  sacrifices  for  sin  thou  hast  had 
no  pleasure  :  then  said  I,  lo !  I  come  (in  the 
volume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me),  to  do 
thy  will,  O  God!'  Accept  this  dedication  of 
ourselves  to  thee,  O  God!  Amen. 

I.  Let  us  consider  our  text  in  relation  to 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Messiah.  Three  things 
are  necessary.    1.  Our  text  is  a  quotation; 


it  nmst  be  verified.  2.  It  is  a  difficult  pas- 
sage ;  it  must  be  explained.  3.  It  is  one  of 
the  most  essential  truths  of  religion ;  it  must 
be  supported  by  solid  proofs. 

I.  Our  text  is  a  quotation,  and  it  must  be 
verified.  It  is  taken  from  the  fortieth  psalm. 
St.  Paul  makes  a  little  alteration  in  it,  for 
which  we  will  assign  a  reason  in  a  following 
article.  In  this,  our  business  is  to  prove, 
that  the  psalm  is  prophetical,  and  that  the 
prophet  had  the  Messiah  in  view  In  confir- 
mation of  this  notion  we  adduce  the  evidence 
that  arises  from  the  object,  and  the  evidence 
that  arises  from  testimony. 

In  regard  to  the  object  we  reason  thus.  All 
the  fortieth  psalm,  except  one  word,  exactly 
applies  to  the  Messiah.  This  inapplicable 
word,  as  it  seem  at  first,  is  in  the  twelfth 
verse, '  mine  iniquities  have  taken  hold  upon 
me.'  This  expression  does  not  seem  proper 
in  the  mouth  of  Jesus  Christ,  who,  the  pro- 
phets foretold,  should  have  '  no  deceit  in  his 
mouth,'  Isa.  liii.  9,  and  who,  when  he  came, 
defied  his  enemies  to '  convince  him  of  a  sin- 
gle sin,'  John  viii.  46.  There  is  the  same 
difficulty  in  a  parallel  psalm,  I  mean  the  sixty- 
ninth,  '  O  God !  thou  knowest  my  foolishness 
and  my  sins  are  not  hid  from  thee,'  ver.  50. 
The  same  solution  serves  for  both  places. 
Some  have  accounted  for  this  difficulty  by 
the  genius  of  the  Hebrew  language,  and 
have  understood  by  the  terms,  sins  and  ini- 
quities, not  any  crimes,  which  the  speaker 
means  to  attribute  to  himself:  but  those 
which  his  persecutors  committed  against  him. 
In  the  style  of  the  Jews, '  my  rebellion'  some- 
times signifies  '  the  rebellion  that  is  excited 
against  me.'  In  this  manner  we  account  for 
an  expression  in  Jeremiah,  '  My  people  are 
attached  to  my  rebeUion,'  that  is  to  say, '  My 
people  persist  in  rebelling  against  me.'  So 
again,  we  account  for  an  expression  in  the 
third  of  Lamentations,  '  O  Lord,  thou  hast 
seen  my  wrong.'  That  is, '  the  wrong  done 
to  me.'  In  like  manner  are  those  words  to 
be  explained,  '  my  foohshness,  my  sins,  my 
iniquities,'  ver.  59. 

But,  if  the  idiom  of  the  Hebrew  language 
could  not  furnish  us  with  this  solution,  we 
should  not  think  the  difficulty  sufficient  to 
engage  us  to  erase  the  fortieth  psalm  from 
the  list  of  prophecies,  if  other  solid  reasons 
induced  us  to  insert  it  there.  Jesus  Christ  on 
the  cross  was  the  substitute  of  sinners,  like 
the  scape-goat,  that  was  accursed  under  the 
old  dispensation,  and,  as  he  stood  charged 
with  the  iniquities  of  his  people,  he  was 
considered  as  the  perpetrator  of  all  the  crimes 
of  men.  The  Scripture  says  in  so  many 
words,  '  he  bare  our  sins.'  What  a  burden ! 
What  an  inconceivable  burden  !  Is  the  bearer 
of  such  a  burden  chargeable  with  any  exag- 
geration, when  he  cries,  *  My  iniquities  have 
taken  hold  upon  me,  so  that  I  am  not  able  to 
look  up ;  they  are  more  than  the  hairs  of 
mine  head;'  1  Pet.  ii.  25.  This  passage  be- 
ing thus  explained,  we  affirm,  there  is  no- 
thing in  this  psalm,  which  does  not  exact- 
ly agree  to  the  Messiah ;  and  if  we  do  not 
attempt  now  to  prove  what  we  have  affiirm- 
ed  on  this  article,  it  is  partly  because  such 
a  discussion  would  divert  us  too  far  from  our 
subject,  and  partly  because  there  seems  to 


Seb.  xxxiii]       ancient  sacrifice  of  the  law. 


301 


be  very  little  difficulty  in  the  application  of 
each  part  of  the  psalm  of  Jesus  Christ.'  i 

Moreover,  the  fortieth  psahir  is  parallel  to  j 
other  prophecies,  whicli  indisputably  belong  ^ 
to  the  Messiah.  I  mean  particularly  the  i 
sixty-ninth  psalm,  and  the  fifty-third  chapter 
of  Isaiah.  Were  not  the  expositions  of  fal- 
lible men  grounded  on  the  testimonies  of  in- 
fallible writers,  the  nature  of  the  thing  would 
oblige  us  to  admit  the  application.  In  whose 
mouth,  except  in  that  of  the  Messiah,  could 
David,  with  so  much  reason,  have  put  these 
\^'ords  .''  '  For  thy  sake  1  have  borne  reproach ; 
thame  hath  covered  my  face,'  Ps.  Ixix.  7.  Of 
whom  could  Isaiah  so  justly  say  as  of  the 
]\Iessiah,  '  He  was  wounded  for  our  trans- 
gressions ;  he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities  ; 
the  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  tipon  him  : 
and  with  his  stripes  we  are  healed.  All  we 
like  sheep  have  gone  astray  ;  we  have  turned 
every  one  to  his  own  way,  and  the  Lord  hnth 
laid  on  him  the  iniquity  of  us  all,'  chap.  liii. 
5,  (J.  Now,  if  you  put  the  chapter  and  the 
psalm,  which  we  liave  quoted,  among  pro- 
phecies of  the  Messiah,  you  will  find  no  dif- 
ficulty in  adding  the  psalm,  from  which  our 
text  is  taken,  because  they  need  only  to  be 
compared  to  prove  that  they  speak  of  the 
same  subject. 

Over  and  above  the  evidence,  that  arises 
from  the  object,  we  liave  the  evidence  of 
testimon}'.  St.  Paul  declares,  that  the  words 
of  the  Psalmist  are  a  prophecy,  and  that  the 
mystery  of  the  incarnation  was  the  aocom- 
plishment  of  it.  Aftur  a  decision  so  respect- 
able, it  ill  becomes  us  to  reply. 

I  very  well  know  what  the  enemies  of  our 
iiiystencs  say  against  this  reasoning,  and 
against  all  our  arguments  of  this  kind  by 
which  we  have  usually  derived  the  m3'steries 
of  the  gospel  from  the  writings  of  the  pro- 
phets. Jesus  Christ,  say  they,  and  his  apos- 
tles reasoned  from  the  prophecies  only  for  the 
sake  of  accommodating  themselves  to  the 
genius  of  the  Jews,  who  were  always  fond 
of  finding  mysteries  in  the  writings  of  their 
sacred  authors,  even  in  the  most  simple  parts 
of  them.  Wliat  you  take,  continue  they,  for 
explications  of  propbecies  in  the  writers  of 
the  New  Testament,  are  only  ingenious  ap- 
plications, or  more  properly,  say  they,  accom- 
modations. But  what !  when  Philip  joined 
himself  to  the  Ethiopian  treasurer,  who  was 
reading  the  fifty-third  of  Isaiah,  and  who  put 
this  question  to  him,  '  I  pray  thee  of  whom 
speaketh  the  proj)het  this  ?  of  himself,  or  of 
some  other  man  .''  When  '  he  began  at  the 
yame  Scripture,  and  preached  unto  him  Jesus,' 
Acts  viii.  34,  35,  did  he  mean  only  to  accom- 
modate himself  to  the  genius  of  the  Jewish 
nation.'  What!  when  St.  Matthew,  speaking 
of  John  the  Baptist,  said,  '  This  is  he  that 
Avas  spoken  of  by  the  prophet  Esaias,  saying, 
The  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness,' 
chap.  iii.  3,  and  when  John  the  Baptist,  in 
answer  to  those  questions,  wliich  the  Jews, 
whom  the  priests  sent,  put  to  him,  '  Who  art 
thou.'  Art  thou  Ehas.'  Art  thou  that  pro- 
phet .''  When  he  replied,  '  I  am  the  voice  of 
one  crying  in  the  wilderness,'  John  i.  19.  21. 
~3,  did  he  mean  only  to  accommodate  him- 
self to  the  prejudices  of  the  Jews  .'  What ! 
when  Jesus  Christ  after  Iiis  resurrecti(m  taxed 

ti  Q 


liis  disciples  with  folly,  because  they  had  not 
discovered  liis  resurrection  in  the  ancient 
prophecies  -.  and  when, '  beginning  at  Moses, 
and  all  the  prophets,'  he  derived  from  thence 
arguments  to  prove  that  Christ  '  ought  to 
have  sufiered,  and  to  enter  into  his  glory,' 
Luke  xxiv.  25 — 27,  had  he  no  other  design 
than  that  of  making  ingenious  applications, 
and  of  accommodating  himself  to  the  pre- 
judices of  Ihs  Jewish  nation  .'  And  is  this  the 
design  of  St.  Paul  in  my  text  ?  Hear  how  he 
speaks,  how  he  reasons,  how  he  concludes. 
'  It  is  not  possible,  says  he,  that  the  blood  of 
Inills  and  goats  should  take  away  sins. 
AVlicrefore,  v.  lien  he  comcth  into  the  world, 
he  says.  Sacrifice  and  offering  thou  wouldst 
not,  but  a  body  hast  thou  prepared  me.  In 
burnt-offerings,  and  sacrifices  for  sin  thou 
hast  had  no  pleasure  ;  then  said  I,  lo!  I  come 
(in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of 
me),  to  do  thy  will,  O  God  !'  Having  said 
before,  '  Sacrifice  and  oft'ering  thou  wouldst 
not,'  which  things  are  appointed  by  the  law, 
he  adds,  '  Lo  !  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  O  God  ! 
He  takelh  away  the  first,  that  he  may  esta- 
blish the  second.  By  the  which  will  we  aic 
sanctified,  through  the  offering  of  tlie  body  of 
Jesus  Christ  once  for  all.'  Do  j)eople  speak 
in  this  manner,  when  they  make  only  in- 
genious applications,  and  when  reasoning" 
is  carried  on  b}^  dexterity  and  accommo- 
dation .' 

Audacious  heresy,  my  brethren !  which 
having  first  offered  violence  to  the  expres- 
sions of  the  prophets,  proceeds  to  offer  vio- 
lence again  to  the  decisions  of  the  evangelists, 
and  apostles,  the  interpreters  of  the  projihets  ; 
and  with  equal  presumption  contradicts  a  pro- 
phecy, and  an  interpretation  as  infallible  as 
prophecy  itself  I  There  is  great  simplicity,  1 
allow,  in  a  turn  for  the  marvellous,  and  in 
obligini";  one's  self  to  find  the  Messiah  in  the 
most  unlikely  passages  in  the  prophecies  : 
but  there  is  also  a  great  deal  of  obstinacy 
in  denying  demonstrations  so  palpable  and 
plain. 

The  M'ords  of  my  text  are  then  a  quotation, 
and,  we  think,  we  have  justified  it.  We  arc 
now  to  consider  it,  secondly,  as  a  difficult 
passage,  that  needs  elucidation. 

The  principal  dilKculty  in  my  present  vieAV 
is  in  these  words,  '  A  body  hast  thou  prepar- 
ed me.'  The  Hebrew  has  it,  thou  has  dug, 
bored,  or  opened  my  ears.  The  expression 
is  figurative :  but  it  is  very  intelligible  even 
to  those  who  are  but  little  acquainted  with 
sacred  history.  None  of  j'ou  can  be  igno- 
rant, that  it  is  an  allusion  to  a  law  recorded 
in  the  twenty-first  chapter  of  Exodus,  where 
they,  who  had  Hebrew  slaves,  were  ordered 
to  release  them  in  the  sabbatical  year.  A 
provision  is  made  for  such  slaves  as  refused 
to  accept  of  this  privilege.  Their  masters 
were  to  bring  them  to  the  doors  of  their 
houses,  to  bore  their  ears  through  Avith  an  awl, 
and  they  Avere  to  engage  to  continue  slaA'es 
for  ever,  that  is  to  say,  till  the  year  of  Jubilee, 
or  till  their  death,  if  they  happened  to  die 
before  that  festival.  As  this  action  was  ex- 
pressive of  the  most  entire  devotedness  of  a 
slave  to  his  master,  it  was  very  natural  for 
the  prophet  to  make  it  an  emblem  of  the  per- 
fect obedience  of  Jesus  Christ  to  his  Father's 


30-2 


CHRIST  THE  SUBSTANCE  OF  THE 


[Ser.  xxxni. 


■Viill.    A  passage  of  our  apostle  exactly  agrees  : 
with  those    words  of  the    prophet.      'Jesus  ] 
Christ  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  took 
upon  him  the  form    of  a  servant,  and   was  I 
made  in  the   likeness  of  men.     And,  being 
found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  humbled  him- 
self, and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even 
the  death  of  the  cross,'  Phil.  ii.  7,  8.     This  is  ; 
the  best  comment  on  the  words  of  the  Psalm- 
ist, '  Thou  hast  bored  mine  ears.'  j 
But  why  did  not  St.  Paul   quote  the  words  j 
a3  they  are  in  the  psalm  ?    Why,  instead  of  i 
rendering  the  words  according  to  the  Hebrew,  I 
•'Thou  hast  bored    mine  ears,'  did  he  render  | 
them, '  Thou  hast  prepared  me  a  body  .='     It  1 
is  plain  the  apostle  followed  the  varsion  com-  ! 
monly  called  that  of  the   seventy.     But  this  | 
remark,   far   from   removing   the   difficulty, 
produces  a  new  one.     For  it  may  be  asked, 
why  did  the  seventy  render  the  original  words 
in  this  manner  .'  As  this  is  a  famous  question, 
and  as  the  discussion  of  it  may  serve  to  cast  , 
liffht  on  many  other  passages  of  Scripture,  it 
will  not  be  an  unprofitable  waste  of  time  to 
iuquire  into  the  matter.     Our  people  often 
hear  this  version  mentioned  in  our  pulpits,  ; 
and  they  ought  to  have  at  least,  a  general  j 
hnowledge  of  it.  ! 
By  the  Scptuagint,  or  the  zersiun  of  the  '. 
seventy,  we  mean  a  Greek  translation  of  the  '■■ 
Old  Testament,   made  about  three  hundred  | 
years  before  the  birtli  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  it 
derived  its  name  from  a  common  report,  that 
seventy,    or   seventy-two  interpreters   were 
the  authors  of  it.     One  history,  (or  shall  I 
rather  call  it,  one  romance  ?)  attributed  to  an 
officer    of   Ptolemy   Philadelphus,    king    of 
Egypt,    says   that   this  prince,   intending  to 
collect  a  library  at  Alexandria,  employed  a 
learned  Athenian,  named  Demetrius  Phala- 
reus,  to  execute  his  design — That  he  inform- 
ed the  king,  that  the  Jews  v.'ere  in  possession 
of  a  book  containing  the  law  of  their  legisla- 
tors— that  Ptolemy  deputed  three  officers  of 
his  court  to   wait  on  the  high  priest  at  Jeru- 
salem, to  require  of  him  a  copy  of  the  book, 
and  men  capable  of  translating  it  into  Greek 
— that  in  order  to  conciliate  the  Jews,  and  to 
obtain   this  favour,   he  released   a  hundred 
thousand  slaves,  who  had  been  held  captives 
in  his  kingdom,  and  amply  furnished  them  with 
all  necessaries   for  their  return  to  Judea — 
that  he  loaded  his  deputies  with  rich  presents 
for  the  temple — that  the  high  priest  not  only 
gave  them  a  copy  of  the  law  :    but  also  sent 
six  men  of  each  tribe  to  translate  it — that 
Ptolemy  received  them  v/ith  marks  of  great 
distinction,  and  lodged  them  in  the    Isle  of 
Pharos,  where  they  might  pursue  their  work 
without  interruption — and  that  they  finished 
the  work   in   as  many  days   as   there  were 
authors  labouring   at  it,  that  is  to  say,   in 
tjeventy-two. 

This  narration  being  favourably  received 
among  the  Jews,  it  happened  that  the  super- 
stition of  the  populace,  fomented  by  their 
own  ignorance,  and  by  the  rash  decisions  of 
the  Rabbins,  which  were  put  in  the  place  of 
solid  proofs,  added  divers  circumstances  to 
render  the  tale  more  marvellous.  Of  this 
kind  is  the  account  given  by  Philo,  who  says 
that  each  of  the  seventy  translators  pursued 
his  work  separately  from  the  rest,  and  that 


when  the  translations  of  all  came  to  be  com- 
pared, there  was  not  the  least  difference,  ei- 
ther in  the  meaning,  or  in  the  expressions. 
Of  the  same  sort  is  another  circumstance  re- 
lated by  Justin  Martyr.  Each  translator, 
says  ho,  was  confined  in  a  little  cell,  in  or- 
der to  prevent  his  holding  any  conversation 
with  the  rest  of  the  interpreters ;  and  this 
good  father  pretends  to  have  seen  the  ruins 
of  these  cellw  in  the  Isle  of  Pharos.  We 
will  not  increase  the  list  of  these  fabulous 
tales  here,  let  it  suffice  to  observe,  that  learn 
ed  men  have  long  agreed  to  reject  these  fa- 
bles ;  and  have  fully  shown  the  paradoxes, 
the  anachronisms,  and  the  contradictions 
with  which  they  are  replete.  We  proceed 
now  to  relate  what  they  have  almost  unani- 
mously admitted. 

That  about  three  hundred  years  before  the 
advent  of  Jesus  Christ,  a  Greek  translation 
of  tlie  old  Testament  was  made  at  Alexan- 
dria for  the  use  of  the  descendants  of  that 
multitude  of  Jews,  which  Alexander  the 
Groat  had  settled  there,  when  he  built  that 
famous  city  in  Egypt,  to  which  he  gave  his 
own  name — That  a  version  was  absolutely 
necessary  for  those  people,  because  the  far 
greater  part  of  them  had  lost  their  native  lan- 
guage— that  at  first  the  five  books  of  Moses 
only  were  translated,  because  they  were  the 
only  books,  which  were  then  read  in  the  sy- 
nagogues— that  after  the  tyrannies  of  Anti- 
ochus  Epiphanes,  the  reading  of  the  prophe- 
cies being  then  introduced,  the  prophecies 
also,  were  translated — that  this  version  was 
spread  through  all  those  parts  of  the  world, 
where  the  Greek  language  was  used,  or 
where  Jews  dwelt — and  that  the  apostles, 
preaching  the  gospel  in  the  greatest  part  of 
the  known  world,  and  the  Greek  tongue  be- 
ing then  every  where  the  favourite  of  all, 
who  valued  themselves  on  learning  and  po- 
liteness, made  use  of  the  version,  commonly 
called  the  version  of  the  Seventy,  to  con- 
vince the  pagans,  that  the  different  parts  of 
the  economy  of  the  Messiah  had  been  fore- 
told by  the  prophets,  and  that  this  version 
was  one  of  tlie  preparations,  which  Pro- 
vidence had  employed  for  the  call  of  the  Gen- 
tiles. 
i  This  digression  thus  going  before  us,  I 
i  will  relate  the  replies  that  are  usually  made 
'  to  the  question  before  us,  namely,  why  the 
I  pretended  Seventy  rendered  the  prophecy, 
j  as  in  the  text,  '  A  body  hast  thou  prepared 
me,'  instead  of  translating  it  according  to 
I  the  literal  Hebrew,'  '  mine  ears  hast  thou 
bored.' 

Some  learned  men  have  pretended,  that 
the  translation  of  our  prophecy  was  altered 
in  our  copies  of  the  Seventy,  and  that  we 
should  read  ears,  instead   of  body.     But  the 
!  reasons  on  which  this  solution  is  grounded, 
;  appear  to  us  so  inconclusive,  that  far  from 
I  establishing  a  fixed  sentiment,  they  hardly 
seem  capable  of  supporting  a  momentary  con- 
jecture. 

Besides,  if  this  reading,  '  a  body  hast  thou 
prepared  me,'  be  faulty,  hov/  carno  St.  Paul 
to  avail  himself  or  the  version  of  the  Seventy 
to  give  currency  to  a  thought  which  was  not 
theirs,  and  to  persuade  the  illiterate  that 
these  interpreters  had  translated  the  words, 


See.  XXXIIL] 


ANCIENT  SACRIFICE  OF  THE  LAW. 


30'- 


'  a  body  hast  thou  prepared  me,'  when  indeed  | 
they  had  rendered  tlie  words,  '  Mine  ears 
hast  thou  bored  ?'  How  could  St.  Paul  em- 
ploy a  fraud  so  gross  to  establish  one  of  the 
most  venerable  mysteries  of  Christianity,  I 
mean  the  doctrine  of  the  incarnation?  Had  ] 
not  his  own  conscience  restrained  him,  a  fore- 
sight of  the  reproaches,  to  which  he  must 
necessarily  have  exposed  himself  by  such 
conduct,  must  needs  have  prevented  it. 

This  tirst  solution  not  appearing  defensible 
to  most  learned  men,  they  have  had  recourse 
to  the  following.  The  seventy  translators, 
say  they,  or  the  authors  of  this  version,  tliat 
bears  their  name,  whoever  they  were,  knew 
the  mystery  of  the  incarnation :  they  were 
convinced,  that  this  mystery  was  foretold  in 
the  fortieth  psalm  ;  and  as  Jesus  Christ  could 
not  perform  the  functions  of  a  servant, 
without  uniting  himself  to  a  mortal  body, 
they  chose  rather  to  give  the  meaning  of 
the  prophecy  than  to  render  the  bare  terms 
of  it.  Some  have  even  gone  so  far  as  to  af- 
firm, that  the  Seventy  did  this  by  the  inspi- 
ration of  the  Holy  Ghost.  This  solution 
has  one  great  advantage,  it  favours  the  the- 
ological system  of  those  who  admit  it,  and 
every  solution  of  this  kind,  will  always  have, 
independently  on  the  accuracy  and  justness 
of  it,  the  suffrages  of  great  numbers.  This 
opinion,  however,  is  not  free  from  difficulty. 
Do  not  the  mistakes  of  which  this  version  is 
full,  and  wliich  the  apostles  have  often  cor- 
rected in  their  quotations  of  it,  form  insupe- 
rable objections  against  the  imaginary  doc- 
trine of  their  inspiration  ?  But  if  the  au- 
thors of  this  version  had  not  been  inspired, 
would  it  have  been  possible  for  them  to  have 
spoken  of  the  mystery  of  the  incarnation  in 
a  manner  more  clear  tlian  any  of  the  pro- 
phets.'' This  difficulty  appears  to  me  the 
greater,  because  I  cannot  find  any  Rabbi  (I 
except  none)  who  ever  understood  the  pro- 

fhecy  in  the  fortieth   psalm  of  the  Messiah, 
t  is  St.  Paul  alone  who  gives  us  the  true 
sense  of  it. 

The  conjectures  that  I  have  mentioned,  ap- 
pear to  me  very  uncertain;  I  therefore  haz- 
ard my  own  private  opinion  on  the  subject, 
and  that  proof  which  I  think  is  the  most  pro- 
per to  make  it  eligible,  I  mean  the  great  sim- 
plicity of  it,  will  be  perhaps  (considering  the 
great  love  that  almost  all  men  have  for  the 
marvellous),  the  chief  reason  for  rejecting  it. 
However,  I  vv'ill  propose  it. 

I  remark  first,  that  the  word  used  by  the 
pretended  Seventy,  and  by  St.  Paul,  and  ren- 
dered in  our  language  prr.p<ired,  is  ©ne  of 
the  most  vague  terms  in  the  Greek  tongue, 
and  signifies  indifferently,  to  dispose,  to 
mark,  to  note,  to  render  capable,  and  so  on. 
This  remark  is  so  well  grounded,  that  tho}', 
•who  think  the  Septuagint  reading  used  tiio 
word  cars  instead  of  body,  retain,  however, 
the  term  in  question,  so  that  according  to 
them,  it  may  signify  bore,  cut,  &c. 

I  observe,  secondly,  tliat  before  the  Septu- 
agint version  of  the  Mosaic  rites  were  very 
little  known  among  the  heathens,  perhaps 
also  among  the  dispersed  Jews  ;  it  was  a 
very  common  thing  with  the  Rabbins  to  en- 
deavour to  conceal  them  from  all,  except  the 
inhabitants  of  Jud(!a,  for   reasons  which   I 


need  not  mention  now.  Hence  I  infer,  that 
in  tho  period  of  which  I  am  speaking,  few 
people  knew  the  custom  of  boring  the  cars 
of  those  slaves,  who  refused  to  accept  tho 
privileges  of  the  sabbatical  year.  I  say  in 
this  period,  not  after  ;  for  we  find  in  the  wri^ 
tings  of  those  pagans,  who  lived  in  after- 
times,  and  particularly  in  the  satires  of 
Petronius  and  Juvenal,  allusions  to  this  cus- 
tom. 

I  observe,  thirdly,  that  it  wasa'general  cus- 
tom among  the  pagans  to  make  marks  on 
the  bodies  of  those  persons,  in  whom  they 
claimed  a  property.  They  were  made  on 
soldiers,  and  slaves,  so  that  if  they  deserted, 
they  might  be  easily  reclaimed.  Sometimes 
they  imposed  marks  on  them  who  served  an 
apprenticeship  to  a  master,  as  well  as  on 
them  who  put  themselves  under  the  protec- 
tion of  a  god.  These  marks  were  called 
stigmas ;  the  word  has  passed  into  other 
languages,  and  St.  Paul,  probably,  alludes  tu 
this  custom  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Galatians, 
where  he  says,  •'  from  henceforth  let  no  maji 
trouble  me.  for  I  bear  in  my  body  the  mark.? 
of  the  Lord  Jesus,'  chap.  vi.  17.  You  may 
see  several  such  allusions  in  the  ninth  of 
Ezekiel,  and  in  the  seventh  of  Revelations, 
where  they,  who  had  put  themselves  under 
the  protection  of  God,  and  had  devoted  them- 
selves to  his  service,  are  represented  as  mark- 
ed in  the  forehead  with  a  certain  mark  re- 
spected by  the  messengers  of  his  avenging 
justice. 

On  these  different  observations  I  ground 
this  opinion.  The  Seventy,  or  the  authors 
of  the  version  that  bears  their  name,  who- 
ever they  were,  thought,  if  they  translated 
the  prophecy  under  consideration  literally,  it 
would  be  intelligible  to  the  pagans  and  to  the 
dispersed  Jews,  who,  being  ignorant  of  the 
custom  to  which  the  text  refers,  would  not 
be  able  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  the 
words,  '  mine  ears  hast  thou  bored.'  To 
prevent  this  inconvenience,  they  translated 
the  passage  in  that  way  which  was  most 
proper  to  convey  its  meaning  to  the  readers. 
It  is  well  known  that  the  pagans  marked  the 
bodies  of  their  soldiers,  and  slaves,  and  disci- 
ples. Our  authors  alluded  to  this  custom, 
and  translated  the  words  in  general,  '  thou 
hast  marked  my  body,'  or  '  thou  hast  dispo- 
sed my  body,'  that  is  to  say,  '  thou  hast  dis- 
posed it  in  a  way  which  is  most  agreeable  to 
the  functions  in  which  I  am  engaging.'  Now 
as  this  translation  was  well  adapted  to  con- 
vey tiie  meaning  of  the  prophet  to  the  pa- 
gans, St.  Paul  had  a  right  to  retain  it. 

Thus  we  have  endeavoured  to  explain  tho 
greatest  difficulty  in  the  terms  of  the  text. 
The  following  word.?,  '  In  the  volume  of  the 
book  it  is  written  of  me,'  refer  to  the  manner 
in  which  the  ancients  disposed  their  boolvs. 
They  wrote  on  parchments,  fastened  one  to 
another,  and  made  rolls  of  them.  The  He- 
brew term  which  St.  Paul,  and  the  pretend- 
ed Seventy,  render  hoofc,  signifies  a  roll  ; 
and  some  think,  the  Greek  term,  which 
we    render  beginning,*   and   which  proper- 


*  II  cat  rrrit  de  moi  an  cominenccmevt  du  livrc.     It 

is  written  of  me  iii  tlie  beginning  of  tlie  book.      Fr. 

It  is  wriltoii  nf  me  in  flie  mlume  of  the  book    Ens. 


3()i 


CHRIST  THE  SUBSTANCE  OF  THE 


[Ser.  XXXIII. 


ly  signifies  a  hrail,  nlliides  to  llic  form  of  these 
rolls:  but  tliosn  remarks  ought  not  to  detain  us. 
Jesus  Christ,  we  are  very  certain,  is  in- 
troduced in  this  place  ns  accomplishing  wliat 
the  prophets  had  foretold,  tliat  is,  that  tiie 
sacrifice  of  the  Messiah  should  he  substituted 
in  the  place  of  tlie  Levitical  victims.  On 
this  account,  as  we  said  before,  our  text  con- 
t;iin.s  one  of  the  most  essential  doctrines  of 
the  rcliifion  of  Jesus  (Christ,  and  the  esta- 
blishment of  tliis  is  our  next  article. 

In  order  to  comprehend  the  sense  in  which 
t])c  Messiah  says  to  God,  '  Sacriiico  and  of- 
fering thou  woiddst  not,'  we  must  distinguish 
two  sorts  of  volition  in  God,  a,  lollling  of  a 
vican,  and  a  willivg  of  an  end.  God  may 
be  said  to  iriJl  a  mi'/in,  when  he  appoints  a 
ceremony  or  establishes  a  rite,  wliicli  has  no 
intrinsic  excellence  in  itself;  but  which  pre- 
pares them,  on  whom  it  is  enjoined,  for  some 
great  events,  on  which  their  felicity  depends. 
By  icilling  an  cud,  I  mean  a  production  of 
such  events. 

If  the  word  trill,  be  tRken  in  the  first 
sense,  it  cannot  bo  truly  said,  that  God  did 
not  will  or  appoint '  sacrifices  and  burnt-of- 
ferings.' Every  one  knows  he  instituted 
them,  and  regulated  the  whole  ceremonial  of 
them,  even  the  most  minute  articles.  On 
this  account,  St.  Paul  observes,  when  God 
liad  given  Moses  directions  concerning  the 
construction  of  the  tabernacle,  he  said  to 
him,  '  See  that  thou  make  all  things  accord- 
ing to  the  pattern  showed  to  thee  in  the 
mount,'  Heb.  viii.  5. 

But  if  we  take  the  word  will  in  the  second 
sense,  and  by  the  will  of  God,  understand  his 
willing  an  end,  it  is  strictly  true,  that  God 
did  not  V)ill  or  appoint  '  sacrifices  and  burnt- 
offerings  ;'  because  they  were  only  institu- 
ted to  prefigure  the  Messiah,  and  consequent- 
ly as  soon  as  the  Messiah,  the  substance,  ap- 
peared, all  the  ceremonies  of  the  law  were 
intended  to  vanish. 

Now,  as  we  said  in  the  beginning  of  this 
discourse,  the  Hebrews,  wlio  were  contem- 
porary with  St.  Paul,  those,  I  mean,  who 
made  a  profession  of  Christianity,  had  great 
occasion  for  this  doctrine.  If  their  attach- 
ment to  the  Levitical  ritual  did  not  o]icrate 
so  far  as  to  hhider  tlieir  embracing  the  j)ro- 
fcssion  of  Christianity,  it  must  be  allowed,  it 
was  one  of  the  principal  obstacles  to  their 
entering  into  the  true  spirit  of  it  The 
apostles  discovered,  for  a  long  time,  a  grent 
deal  of  indulgence  to  those  who  were  misled 
by  their  i)rojudice.  St.  Paul,  a  perfect  mo- 
del of  that  Christian  indulgence  and  tolera- 
tion, which  the  consciences  of  erroneous 
brethren  require,  '  became  to  the  Jews  a 
Jew  ;'  and  far  from  atVccting  to  degrade  the 
ceremonies  of  the  law,  observed  them  with 
a  scrupulous  exactness  himself. 

But  when  it  was  perceived,  as  it  soon  was, 
♦  hat  the  attachment  of  the  Jf-ws  to  the  ce- 
remonies of  the  law,  and  particularly  to  sa- 
crifices, was  injurious  to  the  sacriiice  of  the 
cross,  the  apostles  thought  it  their  duty  vi- 
gorously to  oppose  such  dangerous  prejudi- 
ces, iiiid  this  is  the  design  of  the  iCpistle  to 
the  Hebrews,  in  which  St.  Paul  establishes 
his  tliesis,  I  mean  the  inutility  of  sacrifices, 
on  four  decisive  arguments.     The  first  in  ta- 


ken from  the  nature  of  the  sacrifices.  The 
second  is  derived  from  the  declarations  of  the 
prophets.  The  third  is  inferred  from  type^. 
And  the  last  arises  from  the  excellence  of 
the  gospel-victim. 

'  It  is  not  possible,'  says  the  apostle,  imme- 
diately before  my  text, '  that  the  blood  of  bulls 
and  of  goats  shoidd  take  away  sin,'  Heb.  x. 
4,  this  is  as  much  as  to  say,  the  blood  of  irra- 
tional victims  is  notof  vnlue  sufficient  to  sa- 
tisfy the  Justice  of  God,  righteously  expressing 
his  displeasure  against  the  sins  of  intelligent 
creatures.  This  is  an  argument,  taken  from 
the  nature  of  sucrijiccs 

'  Behold  the  days  come,  saith  the  Lord, 
when  I  will  make  a  new  covenant  with  tho 
house  of  Israel,  and  witli  the  house  of  Judah: 
not  according  to  the  covenant  that  I  made 
with  their  fathers,  in  the  day  when  I  took  them 
by  the  hand  to  lead  them  out  of  the  land  of 
Egypt,'  cliap.  viii.  H,  !.>.  This  is  an  argument, 
taken  from  the  dr.ciiions  of  the  pro/fhets. 

Jesus  Christ  is  a  '■  priest  for  ever  afler  the 
order  of  Melchisedec'  For  this  Melchisc- 
dec,  king  of  Salem,  priest  of  the  most  high 
God,  who  met  Abraham  returning  from  the 
slaughter  of  the  kings,  and  blessed  him  ;  to 
whom  also  Abraham  gave  a  tenth  part  of  all ; 
first  being  by  interpretation  king  of  right- 
eousness, and  after  that  also,  king  of  Salem, 
which  is  king  of  peace  ;  without  father,  with 
out  mother,  with  descent,  Jiaving  neither  be- 
ginning of  days  nor  end  of  lite  ;  but  m<adc 
like  unto  the  Son  of  God,  abideth  a  priest 
continually.  The  law  was  a  shadow  of  gooil 
things  to  come,  and  not  the  very  image  of  the 
tilings,  chap.  vii.  17.  1,  &c.  and  x.  1.  This 
is  an  argument  taken  from  ti/pes. 

The  argument  taken  from  the  ercellence  of 
the  victim  runs  through  this  wliole  epistle, 
and  has  as  many  parts  as  there  are  characters 
of  dignity  in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
in  his  priesthood. 

The  first  character  of  dignity  is  this.  Je- 
sus Christ  is  neither  a  mere  man,  nor  an  an- 
gel, he  is  '  the  Son  of  God,  the  brightness  of 
his  glory,  and  the  express  image  of  his  person. 
He  upholds  all  things  by  the  word  of  his 
power,'  chap.  i.  3,  and  of  liini  when  he  came 
into  the  world,  it  was  said,  '  Let  all  the  an- 
gels of  God  worship  him,' ver.  G.  He.  in  a 
word,  has  the  pert'ections  of  a  supreme  God, 
ami  to  him  the  Psalmist  rendered  the  homage 
of  adoration,  when  he  said,  '  Thy  throne,  O 
God !  is  for  ever  and  ever ;  a  sceptre  of 
righteousness  is  the  sceptre  of  th}'  kingdom. 
Thou,  Lord  !  in  the  beginning  hast  laid  the 
foundation  of  the  earth  ;  and  the  heavens  arc 
the  works  of  thine  hands.  They  shall  perish  : 
but  thou  remainest ;  and  they  all  shall  wax 
old,  as  dotli  a  garment,  and  as  a  vesture  shalt 
thou  fold  them  up,  and  they  shall  be  ciianged  : 
but  tliou  art  the  same,  and  thy  years  shall 
not  fail,'  ver.  8,  iSrc. 

The  solemnity  of  the  institutino-  of  Jesus 
<"hrist  is  a  second  character  of  dignity. 
'  Christ  glorified  not  himself  to  be  made  a 
bight  priest :  but  it  was  God,  who  said  unto 
him.  Thou  art  my  Son,  to-day  have  I  begot- 
ten thee,'  ehnp.  v.  5. 

The  saercil  oath  that  accompanies  the  pro- 
mises, which  Jesus  Christ  alone  fulfils,  is  a 
third  character  of  dignity.     '  When  God  made 


Ser.  XXXIII.] 


ANCIENT  SACRIFICE  OF  THE  LAW. 


30j 


promise  to  Abraham,  because  lie  could  swear 
l)y  no  greater,  he  sware  by  hiinnelf,  saying. 
Surely,  blessing,  I  will  bless  thee,  chap.  vi. 
14,  '  The  priests,'  under  the  law,  '  were 
made  without  an  oath  :  but  this  with  an  oath, 
by  him  that  said  unto  hiiii.  The  Lord  sware, 
and  will  not  repent.  Thou  art  a  priest  for  ever 
after  the  order  of  iVIelchisedec,'  chap.  vii.  2). 
The  unity  of  the  priest  and  the  sacrifice  is 
a  fourth  character  of  dignity.  *  They  truly 
were  many  priests,  because  they  were  not 
suffered  to  continue  by  reason  ot  death  :  but 
this  man  because  he  continueth  ever,  hath  an 
unchangeable  priesthood,' ver.  2'3,  24. 

The  fifth  cliaracter  of  dignity  is  the  mag- 
nificence of  that  tabernacle  into  which  Jesns 
Cl'.rist  entered,  and  the  merit  of  that  blood, 
which  obtained  his  access  into  it.  '  The  first 
covenant  had  a  worldly  sanctuary,'  chap.  i.\.  1, 
into  the  first  room  of  '  which  the  priests  went 
always,  accomplishing  the  service  of  God  ;  and 
'into  the  second, the  high  priest  alone  went  once 
every  year,  not  without  blood,  which  he  offer- 
ed for  himself,  and  for  the  errors  of  the  people. 
But  Christ,  being  como  a  high  priest  of  good 
things  to  come,  by  a  greater  and  more  perfect 
tabernacle,  neither  by  the  blood  of  bulls  and 
calves,  but  by  his  own  blood,  entered  not 
into  holy  places  made  with  hands,  which 
were  figures  of  the  true  :  but  into  heaven  it- 
self, now  to  appear  in  the  presence  of  God 
for  us,'  chap.  x.  6,  7.  IL  l~-  '-'4. 

To  what  purpose  are  Levitical  sacrifices,  of 
what  use  arc  Jewish  priests,  what  occasion 
have  we  for  hecatombs,  and  offerings,  after 
the  sacrifice  of  a  victim  so  excellent .''  My 
text  contains  one  of  the  most  essential  doc- 
trines of  Christianity,  that  Jesus  Christ  of- 
fered himself  for  us  to  the  justice  of  his  Father. 
This  is  a  doctrine,  the  evidences  of  which  we 
all  receive  with  joy  ;  a  doctrine,  the  enemies  of 
which  we  consider  with  horror  ;  a  doctrine  of 
which  wo  have  the  highest  reason  to  be  holi- 
ly  jealous,  because  it  is  the  foundation  of  that 
confidence,  witli  whicli  we  come  boldly  to  the 
throne  of  grace,  throtighont  life,  and  in  the 
article  of  death  :  but  a  doctrine,  however,  tiiat 
will  be  entirely  useless  to  us,  unless,  while  we 
lake  Jesus  Christ  for  our  Redeemer,  we  take 
liiin  also  for  our  e.vaniple.  The  text  is  not 
only  the  language  of  Jesus  Cliiist,  who  sub- 
stitutes himself  in  the  place  of  old  testament 
sacrifices:  but  it  is  the  voice  of  David,  and  of 
every  believer,  who,  full  of  this  just  senti- 
ment, that  a  personal  dedication  to  the  ser- 
vice of  God  is  the  most  acceptable  sacrifice, 
that  men  can  offer  to  the  Deity,  devote  them- 
selves entirely  to  him.  How  foreign  soever 
this  second  sense  may  appear  from  tlie 
first,  there  is  nothing  in  it  tliat  ought  to  sur- 
prise you.  This  is  not  the  only  passage  of 
holy  Scripture,  which  contains  a  mystical  as 
well  as  a  literal  signification, nor  is  this  the  first 
time  in  which  the  dispositions  of  inspired  men 
h.ave  been  emblems  of  those  of  ihc  Messiah. 
Let  us  justify  this  second  sense  of  our  text. 
Come,  my  brethren,  adopt  the  words,  say 
with  the  prophet,  and  thus  prepare  your- 
-  selves  for  the  celebration  of  the  festival  of  the 
nativity,  which  is  just  at  hand,  '  Sacrifice 
and  oftering  thou  wouldst  not ;  but  a  body 
hast  thou  prepared  me.  In  burnt-ofierings 
and  sacrifices  for  sin  thou  Jiad  no  pleasure  ; 


then  said  I,  Lo  !  I  come,  as  it  is  written  in  the 
volume  of  the  book,  to  do  thy  will,  O  God  !' 
This  is  the  second  part,  or  rather  the  appli- 
cation of  this  discourse. 

II  '  God  willeth  not  sacrifices.'  Tho 
meaning  of  these  words  is  easily  understood, 
I  presume.  They  signify',  that  the  only  of- 
fering, which  God  requires  of  us,  is  that  of 
our  persons.  Recollect  a  distinction,  which  wo 
made  a  little  while  ago,  to  justify  the  first 
sense  of  the  text,  and  which  is  equally  pro- 
per to  explain  the  second.  There  is  in  God 
a  two-fold  will,  a  willing  of  means,  and  a 
wilihig  of  an  end.  If  the  word  loill  be  taken 
in  the  first  sense,  it  cannot  bo  said,  '  God 
willeth,'  or  desires,  '  not  .sacrifices.'  He  ap- 
pointed them  as  means  to  conduct  us  to  that 
end,  which  he  intended,  that  is,  to  the  offer- 
ing of  our  persons. 

1  have  been  delighted  to  find  this  idea  de- 
veloped in  the  writings  of  those  very  Jews, 
who  of  all  men  have  the  strongest  inclina- 
tion to  exceed  in  respect  for  the  ceremonies 
of  religion.  I  have  my  eye  on  a  work  of  o. 
Rabbi,  the  most  respectable,  and  the  most 
respected,  of  all,  who  are  so  called,  I  mean 
Moses  Rlaimonides.  The  book  is  entitled, 
'  A  guide  to  doubting  souls.'*  Under  how 
many  faces  does  he  present  this  distinction.'' 
On  what  solid  foundations  does  he  take  care 
to  establish  it  .■'  I  should  weaken  the  argil 
ments  of  this  learned  Jew,  by  abridging 
them,  and  I  refer  all,  who  are  capable  of 
reading  it,  to  the  book  itself.  You  under- 
stand then  in  what  sense  God  demands  only 
the  sacrifice  of  your  persons.  It  is  what  he 
wills  as  the  end  ;  and  he  will  accept  neither 
offerings,  nor  sacrifices,  nor  all  the  ceremo- 
nies of  religion,  unless  they  contribute  to  the 
holiness  of  the  person  who  oft'ers  them. 

Let  us  not  rest  in  these  vague  ideas :  but 
let  us  briefly  close  this  discourse  by  observ- 
ing, 1.  The  nature  of  this  offering.  2.  The  ne- 
cessity of  it.  3.  The  difficulties.  4.  The  delights 
that  accompany  it ;  and  lastly,  its  reward. 

].  Observe  the  nature  of  this  sacrifice. 
This  oftering  includes  our  whole  persons, 
and  every  thing  that  Providence  his  put  in 
our  power.  Two  sorts  of  things  may  be  dis- 
tinguished in  the  victim,  01  which  God  re- 
quires the  sacrifice  ;  the  one  bad,  the  other 
good.  We  are  engaged  in  vicious  habits,  wo 
arc  carried  away  with  irregular  propensities, 
we  are  slaves  to  criminal  passions ;  all  these 
are  our  bad  things.  We  are  capable  of 
knowledge,  meditation,  and  love  ;  we  possess 
riches,  reputation,  employments,  and  so  on  ; 
these  are  our  good  things.  God  demands 
the  sacrifice  of  both  tlicso.  Say  to  God  in 
both  senses,  '  Lo  !  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  O 
God!  Whatever  you  havo  of  the  bad,  sacri- 
fice to  God,  and  consume  it  in  spiritual 
burnt-ofi'oring.  Sacrifice  to  him  lire  infernal 
pleasure  of  slander.  Sacrifice  to  him  the  bru- 
tal passions  tliat  enslave  your  senses.  Sacri- 
fice to  him  that  avarice  which  gnaws  and  de- 
vours you.  Sacrifice  to  him  that  pride,  and 
presumption,  which  swell  a  mortal  into  ima- 
ginary consequence,  disguise  him  from  him- 
self, make  him  forget  his  original  dust,  and 
hide  from  iiis  eyes  his  future  putrefaction. 

*  .Jlorc  Ncvochim. 


306 


CHRIST  THE  SUBSTANCE,  &c. 


[Ser.  xxxm. 


But  also  sacrifice  j^ourgood  things  to  God. , 
You  have  genius.  Dedicate  it  to  God.  Em-  I 
ploy  it  in  meditating  on  his  oracles,  in  recti-  | 
fyingyour  own  ideas,  and  in  diffusing  through 
the  world  by  your  conversation  and  writing 
til  knowledge  of  this  adorable  Being.  You 
h.ivc  the  art  of  insinuating  your  opinions 
inlothe  minds  of  men.  Devote  it  to  God, 
uso  it  to  undeceive  your  acquaintances,  to 
open  their  eyes,  and  to  inspire  them  with  in- 
clinations more  worthy  of  immortal  souls, 
than  those  which  usually  govern  them.  You 
have  credit.  Dedicate  it  to  God,  strive 
against  your  own  indolence,  surmount  the  ob- 
stacles that  surround  you,  open  your  doors  to 
widows  and  orphans,  who  wish  for  your  pro- 
tection. You  have  a  fortune.  Devote  it  to 
God,  use  it  for  the  succour  of  indigent  fami- 
lies, employ  it  tor  the  relief  of  the  sick,  who 
Linguisii  triendlossi  n  beds  of  infirmity,  let  it 
help  forward  thelawlul  desires  of  them,  who, 
hungering  and  thirsting  for  righteousness, 
wander  in  the  deserts  of  Hrrinim,  and  pour 
out  these  complaints  on  the  hill  M/zar,  '  As 
the  hart  pantetli  after  the  water-brooks,  so 
panteth  my  soul  after  Ihec.  O  God!  My  soul 
thirsteth  for  God.'  Ps.  xliii.  1,2,  &c. '  My  flesh 
crieth  out  for  thme  altars,  O  Lord  of  hosts, 
my  king,  and  my  God,'  Ps.  Ixxxiv.  2,  3. 

Having  observed  Iho  nature  of  that  offering 
which  God  requires  of  you,  consider  next  the 
necessity  of  jt.  1  will  not  load  this  article 
with  a  multitude  ci  proofs.  J  will  not  repeat 
the  numerous  declarations  that  the  inspired 
writers  have  made  on  this  subject.  I  will 
3ieither  insist  on  this  of  Samuel,  '  To  obe}'  is 
better  than  sacrifice,  and  to  hearken  than  the 
fat  of  rams,'  1  Sam.  xy.  22.  Nor  on  this  of 
the  Psalmist.  '  Unto  the  wicked,  God  saith, 
What  hast  tho\i  to  do  to  declare  my  statutes, 
or  tliat  thou  shouldest  take  my  covenant  in 
thy  mculh,  seeing  thou  hatcst  instruction.-' 
Ps.  1.  10,  17.  'The  sacrifices  of  God  area 
broken  spirit,'  Ps.  li.  17.  Nor  on  this  of  Isaiah, 
'  To  what  purpose  is  the  multitude  of  your 
sacrifices  unto  me,  saith  the  Lord  .'  I  am  full 
of  the  burnt  offering's  of  rams,  and  the  fat  of 
fed  beasts  ;  put  away  the  evil  of  your  doings 
from  before  mine  eyes,"  chap.  i.  11.16.  Nor  j 
on  this  of  Jcremiali,  *  Put  your  burnt-offer-  i 
ings  unto  your  sacrifices,  and  cat  flesh.  But  ' 
I  commanded  not  your  falliors,  in  the  day  1 
that  I  brought  them  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,  | 
concerning  burnt  offerings,  or  sacrifices  :  but  j 
this  thing  commnnded  I  them  saying.  Obey  i 
my  voice,  and  trust  not  in  lying  words,  saying, 
The  temple  of  tlie  Lord,  tlic  temple  of  the 
Lord,  t!)c  temple  of  the  Lord,  are  Ih.ese.  Be- 
hold ye  trust  in  lying  words.  Do  not  steal, 
Do  no  murder,  Do  not  commit  adultery,'  chap . 
vii.  21 — 23.  4.  9.  Nor  will  I  insist  on  many 
other  declarations  of  tins  kind,  with  which 
Scripture  abounds:  I  have  no  need  of  any 
other  testimony  than  that  of  your  own  con- 
sciences. 

To  what  purpose  do  you  attend  public  wor- 
ship in  a  church  consecrated  to  the  service  of 
Almighty  God,  if  you  refuse  to  make  your 
bodies  temples  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  persist 
in  devoting  them  to  impurity .'  To  what  pur- 
pose do  you  hear  sermons,  if,  as  soon  as  the 
preacher  has  finished,  you  forget  all  the 
duties  lie  has  recommended .'    To  what  pur-  i 


pose  do  you  spread  your  miseries  in  prayer 
l)efore  God,  while  you  neglect  all  the  means, 
by  which  he  has  promised  to  relieve  them  .' 
To  what  purpose  do  you  approach  the  table 
of  the  Lord,  if,  a  few  days  after  }'ou  have 
partaken  of  the  sacred  elements,  you  violate 
all  your  vows,  break  all  your  promises,  and 
forget  the  solemn  adjurations  which  you  made 
there  ?  To  what  purpose  do  you  send  for 
ministers,  when  death  seems  to  be  approach- 
ing, if  as  soon  as  you  recover  from  sickness, 
you  return  to  the  same  kind  of  life,  the  re- 
membrance of  which  caused  3'ou  so  much  hor- 
ror when  you  were  sick,  and  afraid  of  death  .' 

The  sacrifice  required  of  us  is  difficult,  do 
you  say  i  I  grant  it,  my  brethren,  accordingly, 
far  from  pretendino-  to  conceal  it,  I  make  one 
article  of  the  difficulties  and  pains  that  ac- 
company it.  How  cxtremel}'  difficult,  when 
our  reputation  and  honour  are  attacked,  when 
our  fidelity,  our  morals,  our  conversation,  our 
very  intentions,  are  misinterpreted,  and  slan- 
dered ;  how  extremely  difficult,  when  we  are 
persecuted  and  oppressed  by  cruel  and  unjnst 
enemies;  how  hard  is  it  to  practice  the  laws 
of  religion,  wliich  require  us  to  pardon  inju- 
ries, and  to  exercise  patience  and  mercy  to 
our  enemies!  How  difficult  is  it  to  imitate 
the  example  of  Jesus  Christ,  who,  when  he 
hung  on  the  cross,  praj'cd  for  them  who  nail- 
ed him  there;  how  hard  is  it  thus  to  sacrifice 
to  God  our  resentment  and  vengeance  '^  How 
difficult  is  it  to  sacrifice  unjust  gains  to  God, 
by  restoring  them  to  their  owners  ;  how  hard 
to  retrench  expenses,  which  we  cannot  ho- 
nestly support,  to  reform  a  table,  that  gratifies 
the  senses,  to  diminish  the  number  of  our  at- 
tendants, which  does  us  honour,  to  lay  aside 
equipajj-es,  that  surround  us  with  pomp,  and 
to  reduce  our  expenses  to  our  incomes!  How 
difficult  is  it,  when  all  our  wishes  are  united 
in  the  gratification  of  a  favourite  passion,  O  i 
how  hard  is  it  to  free  one's  self  from  its  domi- 
nion !  How  difficult  is  it  to  eradicate  an  old 
criminal  habit,  to  reform,  and  to  renew  one'.s 
self,  to  form,  as  it  were,  a  different  constitu- 
tion, to  create  other  eyes,  other  ears,  another 
body  .'  How  hard  is  it,  when  death  approaches, 
to  bid  the  world  farewell  for  ever,  to  part 
from  friends,  parents  and  children  !  In  gene- 
ral, how  difficult  is  it  to  surmount  that  world 
of  obstacles,  whicli  oppose  us  in  our  path  to 
eternal  happiness,  to  devote  one's  self  entire- 
ly to  God  in  a  world,  where  all  the  objects  of 
our  senses  seem  to  conspire  to  detacli  us 
from  him  ! 

But,  is  this  sacrifice  the  less  necessary, 
because  it  is  difficult .'  Do  the  disagreeables 
and  difiiculties,  which  accompany  it,  invali- 
date the  necessity  of  it .''  Let  us  add  some- 
thing of  the  comforts  that  belong  to  it,  they 
will  soften  the  yoke  that  religion  puts  upon 
us,  nnd  encourage  us  in  our  arduous  pursuit 
of  immortal  joy.  Look,  reckon,  multiply  a.-^^ 
loner  as  you  will,  the  hardships  and  pains  of 
this  sacrifice,  they  can  never  equal  its  plea- 
sures and  rewards. 

What  delight,  after  we  have  laboured  hard 
at  the  reduction  of  our  passions,  and  the  re- 
formation of  our  hearts  :  what  delight,  after 
we  have  striven,  or,  to  use  the  language  of 
Jesus  Christ,  after  we  have  been  in  '  an 
agoriv.'  in  endeavourins  to  resist  the  torrent. 


Skr.  XXXIV.]  THE  EFFICACY  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  CHRIST. 


307 


and  to  survive,  if  possible,  the  dreadful  storm, 
that  involves  the  Christian  in  his  paosage  ; 
what  delight  to  find,  that  Heaven  crowns  our 
wishes  with  success  ! 

What  delight  when  on  examining  conscience 
preparatory  to  the  Lord's  Supper,  a  man  is 
able  to  say  to  himself,  '  Once  I  was  a  sordid, 
selfish  wretch  ;  now  my  happiness  is  to  assist 
my  neighbour.  Formerly,  my  thoughts  were 
tiissipated  in  prayer,  my  devotions  were  in- 
terrupted by  worldly  objects,  of  which  the 
whole  capacity  of  my  soul  was  full ;  now,  I 
am  enabled  to  collect  my  thoughts  in  my 
closet,  and  to  fix  them  on  that  God,  in  com- 
munion with  whom  I  pass  the  happiest  hours 
of  my  life.  Once,  I  relished  nothing  but  the 
world  and  its  pleasures  ;  now,  my  soul 
breathes  only  piety  and  religion.'  What  high 
satisfaction,  when  old  age  arrives,  when  our 
days  are  passing  '  swifter  than  a  weaver's 
shuttle,'  to  be  able  to  give  a  good  account  of 
our  conduct,  and,  while  the  last  moments  fly, 
to  fill  them  with  the  remembrance  of  a  life 
well  spent !  When  our  sins  present  them- 
selves before  us  in  all  their  enormity  ;  when 
we  find  ourselves  in  the  situation  mentioned' 
by  the  Psalmist,  '  My  sin  is  ever  before  me,' 
Ps.  11.  3,  the  image  of  bloody  Uriah  haunts 
me  every  where,  then  how  happy  to  be  ena- 
bled to  say,  '  I  have  wept  for  these  sins,  in 
the  bitterness  of  penitence  I  have  lost  the 
remembrance  of  pleasure  in  sin  ;  and  I  trust, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  I  am  guarded  against 
future  attacks  from  them.' 

Such  are  the  pleasures  of  this  sacrifice : 
but  what  are  its  rewards .'  Let  us  only  try 
to  form  an  idea  of  the  manner  in  which  God 
gives  himself  to  a  soul,  that  devotes  itself 
wholly  to  him.  Ah  !  if  '  we  love  him,'  is  it 
not '  because  he  first  loved  us .'''  Alas !  to 
what  degree  soever  we  elevate  our  love  to 
liiiii,  it  is  nothing  in  comparison  of  his  love  to 


us !  What  shall  I  say  to  you,  ray  brethren,  on 
the  love  of  God  to  us  ?  What  shall  I  say  of 
the  blessings,  which  he  pours  on  these  states, 
and  on  the  individuals  who  compose  them,  of 
the  restoration  of  peace,  tho  confirmation  of 
your  liberties,  the  preservation  of  your  lives, 
the  long-suiFering  that  he  exercises  towards 
your  souls  ''  Above  all,  what  shall  I  say  con- 
cerning that  great  mystery,  the  anniversary 
of  which  the  church  invites  you  to  celebrate 
next  Lord's  day  ?  '  God  so  loved  the  world 
that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,'  John 
iii.  IG. 

A  God  who  has  loved  us  in  this  manner, 
when  we  were  enemies  to  him,  how  will  he 
not  love  us,  now  we  are  become  his  friends, 
now  we  dedicate  to  him  ourselves,  and  all 
besides  that  we  possess  .''  What  bounds  can 
be  set  to  his  love  t'  '  He  that  spared  not  his! 
own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how- 
shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all 
things .-"  Rom.  viii.  '32.  Here  I  sink  under 
the  weight  of  my  subject.  '  O  my  God  !  how- 
great  is  thy  goodness,  which  thou  hast  laid 
up  for  tliem  that  fear  thee  !'  Ps.  xxxi.  19. 
My  God  !  what  will  not  the  felicity  of  that 
creature  be,  who  gives  himself  wholly  to  thee, 
as  thou  givest  thyself  to  him  ! 

Thus,  my  dear  brethren,  religion  is  nothing 
but  gratitude,  sensibility  and  love.  God  grant 
we  may  know  it  in  this  manner !  May  the 
knowledge  of  it  fill  the  heart  and  mouth  of 
each  of  us  during  this  festival,  and  from  this 
moment  to  the  hour  of  death,  with  the  lan- 
guage of  my  text,  ■  Sacrifice  and  offering 
thou  wouldest  not,  but  a  body  hast  thou  pre- 
pared me.  In  burnt-offerings  for  sin,  thou 
hadst  no  pleasure  :  Then  said  I,  Lo!  I  come. 
I  come,  as  it  is  written  in  the  volume  of  the 
book,  to  do  thy  will,  O  God  !'  May  God  con- 
descend to  confirm  our  resolutions  by  his 
grace.     Amen. 


SJERMON  XXXIV. 


THE  EFFICACY   OF  THE  DEATH  OF  CHillST, 


2    CoKINTHIANS    V.    14,    \5, 

The  love  of  Chrht  comiraineth  us;  because  ive  tlms judge,  fhaf  if  one  died 
for  all,  then  were  all  dead:  £nd  that  he  died  for  all,  "that  they  which  live, 
should  not  hencefnik  live  unto  themselves,  but  tinto  him,  iv'hich  died  for 
them^  and  rose  again. 


MY  BRETIIEEN, 

We  have  great  designs  to-day  on  you,  and  we 
have  great  means  of  executing  them.  Some- 
times we  require  the  most  difficult  duties  of 
morality  of  you.  At  other  times  we  ])reac.h 
the  mortification  of  the  senses  to  you,  and 
with  St.  Paul,  we  tell  you,  '  they  that  are 
Christ's,  have  crucified  the  flesh  with  the  af- 
fections and  lusts,'  Gal.  v.  24.  Sometimes 
we  attack  your  attchment  to  riches,  and  after 
!he  example  of  our  groat  Master,  we  exhort 


you  to  '  lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  ia 
heaven,  where  neither  moth  nor  rust  doth 
corrupt,  and  where  theives  do  not  break 
tlirough,  nor  steal,'  Matt.  vi.  20.  At  other 
times  we  endeavour  to  prepare  you  for  some 
violent  operation,  some  severe  exercises, 
with  wJiich  it  may  please  God  to  try  you, 
and  we  repeat  tho  words  of  the  apostle  to 
the  Hebrews,  '  Ye  have  not  yet  resisted  unto 
blood,  striving  against  sin  ;    v/hereforc  lift  up 


308 


THE  EFFICACY  OF 


[Ser   XXXIV. 


the  hands  whicli  liaiig  down,  and  tlie  feeble 
Isnees,'  Heb.  xii.  4.  12.  At  other  limes  we 
summon  you  to  sutfor  a  death  more  painful 
than  your  own  ;  we  require  you  to  dissolve 
the  tender  ties  that  unite  your  hearts  to  your 
relatives  and  friends  ;  we  adjure  you  to  break 
the  bonds  that  constitute  all  the  hap|)iness  of 
3'our  lives,  and  we  ntter  this  laniruajfe,  or 
shall  I  rather  say,  thunder  this  terrible  orra- 
dation  in  the  name  of  the  Almighty  God, 
'  Take  now  thy  son — tliine  only  son — Isaac — 
whom  thou  lovest — and  ofter  him  for  a  burnt- 
offering  upon  one  of  the  mountains,  whicli  I 
will  tell  thee  of,'  Gen.  xxii.  2.  To-day  we 
demand  all  these.  We  require  more  than 
the  sacrifice  of  your  senses,  more  than  that 
of  your  riches,  more  than  that  of  your  impa- 
tience, more  than  that  of  an  only  son  ;  we 
demand  a  universal  devotedness  of  yourselves 
to  '  the  author  and  finisher  of  your  faith  ;' 
and  to  repeat  tlie  emphatical  language  of  m}' 
text,  wliich  in  its  extensive  compass  involves, 
and  includes  all  these  duties,  we  require  you 
'  henceforth  not  to  live  unto  yourselves  :  but 
unto  him,  who  died  and  rose  again  for  you.' 
As  we  have  great  designs  upon  you,  so  we 
have  great  means  of  executing  them.  They 
are  not  only  a  few  of  the  attractives  of  reli- 
gion. They  are  not  only  such  efforts  as 
3'our  ministers  sometimes  make,  when  unit- 
ing all  their  studies  and  all  their  abilities, 
they  approach  you  with  the  power  of  tiie 
word.  It  is  not  only  an  august  ceremony,  or 
a  solemn  festival.  They  are  all  these  put 
toaether.  God  has  assembled  them  all  in 
the  marvellous  transactions  of  this  one  day. 

Here  are  all  the  attractives  of  religion. 
Here  are  all  the  united  efforts  of  your  minis- 
ters, who  unanimously  employ  on  these  occa- 
sions all  the  penetration  of  their  minds,  all 
tlie  tenderness  of  their  hearts,  all  the  power 
of  language  to  awake  your  piety,  and  to  in- 
cline you  to  render  Jesus  Christ  love  for 
love,  and  life  for  life.  It  is  an  august  ceremo- 
ny, in  which,  under  the  most  simple  symbols 
that  nature  affords,  God  represents  the  most 
t'ublime  objects  of  religion  to  you.  This  is 
ii  solemn  festival,  the  most  solemn  festival 
that  Christians  observe,  this  occasions  them 
to  express  in  songs  of  llie  highest  joy  their 
gratitude  and  praise  to  their  deliverer,  these 
are  their  sentiments,  and  thus  they  exult, 
'  The  right  hand  of  tlie  Lord  doeth  valiantly  !' 
Ps.  cxviii.  15.  '  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Fa- 
ther of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  hath 
blessed  us  with  all  spiritual  blessings  in  hea- 
venly places  in  Christ,'  Eph.  i  3.  '  Blessed  be 
God,  who  hath  begotten  us  again  unto  a  live- 
ly hope  by  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ 
from  the  dead,'  1  Pet.  i,  3. 

And  on  what  days,  is  it  natural  to  suppose, 
should  the  preacliing  of  the  gospel  perform 
those  miracles  wliich  are  promised  to  it,  if 
not  on  such  days  as  these  .''  When,  if  not  on 
such  days  as  these,  should,  '  the  sword  of  the 
spirit,  divide  asunder  soul  and  spirit,  joints 
and  marrow,'  Eph.  vi  17;  Heb.  iv.  li,  and 
cut  in  twain  every  bond  of  self-love  and  sin  .-' 
To  all  these  means  add  the  supernatural  as- 
sistance that  God  communicates  in  a  double 
portion  in  these  circumstances  to  all  those, 
whom  a  desire  of  reconciliation  with  heaven 
conducts  to  this  assomb]\'.    Wc  have  pra^-ed 


for  this  assistance  at  the  dawning  of  this 
blessed  day  ;  we  prayed  for  it  as  we  ascended 
this  pulpit,  and  again  before  we  began  this 
exercise ;  with  prayer  for  divine  assistance 
we  began  this  discourse,  and  now  we  are  ro- 
ing  to  pray  for  it  again.  My  dear  brethren, 
unite  your  prayers  with  ours,  and  let  us  mu- 
tually say  to  God ; 

O  tliou  rock  of  ages  !  Thou  author  of  those 
great  mysteries,  with  which  the  whole  Chris- 
tian world  resounds  to  day  !  make  thy  '  work 
perfect,'  Deut.  xxxii.  4.  Let  the  end  of  all 
these  mysteries  be  the  salvation  of  this 
people.  Yea,  Lord!  the  incarnation  of  thy 
Word  ;  the  sufferings,  to  which  thou  didst 
expose  him  ;  the  vilals  of  thy  wrath,  poured 
on  this  victim,  innocent  indeed  in  himself, 
but  criminal  as  he  was  charged  with  all  our 
sins;  the  cross  to  which  thou  didst  deliver 
him  ;  the  power  that  thou  didst  display  iu 
raising  him  from  the  tomb,  conqueror  over 
death  and  hell ;  all  these  mysteries  were  de- 
signed for  the  salvation  of  those  believers, 
whom  the  devotion  of  this  day  has  assem- 
bled in  this  sacred  place.  Save  them,  O 
Lord !  '  God  of  peace  !  who  didst  bring 
again  from  the  dead  our  Lord  Jesus,  that  great 
shepherd  of  the  sheep,  through  the  blood  of 
the  everlasting  covenant,  make  them  perfect 
in  every  good  word  to  do  thy  will ;  work  in 
them  that  which  is  well-pleasing  in  tiiy 
sight  through  Jesus  Christ,  to  whom  be  glory 
for  ever  and  ever.  Amen,'  Heb.  xiii.  2(),  21. 
'  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us.'  This 
is  our  text.  Almost  every  expression  in  it  is 
equivocal:  but  its  ambiguity  does  not  dimin- 
ish its  beauty.  Every  path  of  explication  is 
I  strewed  with  flowers,  and  wc  meet  with  only 
j  great  and  interesting  objects  even  conforma- 
ble to  the  mysteries  of  this  day  and  the  cere- 
i  mony  that  assembles  us  in  this  holy  place.  If 
there  be  a  passage  in  the  explication  of  which 
we  have  ever  felt  an  inclination  to  adopt  that 
I  maxim,  which  has  been  productive  of  so  manj"- 
bad  comments,  that  is,  tliat  expositors  ought 
to  give  to  every  passage  of  Scripture  all  the 
different  senses  which  it  will  bear,  it  is  thi>i 
passage,  which  we  have  chosen  for  our  text. 
I  Judge  of  it  j-ourselves. 

•       There  is  an  ambiguity  in  tlie  principal  sul- 

'  j"cc<,  of  which  our  apostle  speaks,  '  The  love  of 

!  Christ.'     This  phrase  may  signify  either  the 

j  love  of  f  hrist  to  us,  or  our  love  to  him. 

'       There  is  an  ambiguity  in  the  persons  who 

are   animated  with  this  love.     '  The  love  of 

CJirist  constraineth   us  ;     St.    Paul     means 

cither  the   viivisters  of  the  gospel,  of  whom 

he  speaks  in  the  preceding  and  and  following 

verses  ;  or  all  believers,  to  the  instruction  of 

whom  he  consecrated  all  his  writings. 

There  is  also  an  ambiguity  in  the  effects. 
which  the  apostle  attributes  to  this  love.  Ho 
says,  •  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us,' 
the  love  of  Christ  unitcth,  or  prcsseth  us. 
'  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us,'  may 
cither  signify,  our  love  to  Jesus  Christ  unites 
us  to  one  another,  because  it  collects  and 
unites  all  our  desires  in  one  point,  that  is,  in 
Jesus  Christ  tlie  centre.  In  this  sense  St. 
Paul  says,  '  Love  is  the  bond  of  pcrfcctncsS,' 
Col.  hi.  14,  that  is  to  say,  the  most  perfect 
friendships,  that  can  be  formed,  are  thos^c 
which  have  love  for  their  principle.     Thus  if 


Skr.  XXXIV.] 


THE  DEATH  OF  CHRIST. 


309 


my  text  were  rendered  love  uniteth  us  toge- 
ther, it  would  express  a  sentiment  very  con- 
formable to  the  scope  of  St.  Paul  in  this 
epistle.  He  proposes  in  this  epistle  in  gene- 
ral, and  in  this  chapter  in  particular,  to  dis- 
courage those  scandalous  divisions  which 
tore  out  the  vitals  of  the  church  at  Corinth, 
where  party  was  against  party,  one  part  of 
the  congregation  against  another  part  of  the 
congregation,  and  one  pastor  waa  against 
another  pastor, 

'  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us'  may 
also  signify,  the  love  of  Christ  transports  us, 
and  carries  us,  as  it  were,  out  of  ourselves.  In 
this  case  the  apostle  must  be  supposed  to 
allude  to  those  inspirations,  which  the  pagan 
priests  pretended  to  receive  from  their  gods, 
with  which,  they  said,  they  were  filled,  and 
to  those,  with  which  the  prophets  of  the  true 
God  were  really  animated.  The  original 
word  is  used  in  this  sense  in  Acts,  where  it 
said, '  Paul  was  pressed  in  spirit,  and  testi- 
fied to  the  Jews,  that  Jesus  was  Christ,'  chap, 
xviii.  5.  This  explication  approaches  still 
nearer  to  the  scope  of  St.  Paul,  and  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  apostles.  They  had  ec- 
stacies.  St.  Peter  in  the  cityof  Joppa  was 
'  in  an  ecstacy.'  St.  Paul  also  was  '  caught 
up  to  the  third  heaven,'  chap.  x.  10,  not 
knowing  '  whether  he  was  in  the  body,  or 
out  of  the  body,' "  2  Cor.  xii.  2,  3.  These 
ecstacies,  these  transports, these  close  commu- 
nions with  God,  with  which  the  inspired  men 
were  honoured,  made  them  sometimes  pass 
for  idiots.  This  is  the  sense  which  some 
give  to  these  words,  *  We  are  fools  for 
Christ's  sake,'  1  Cor.  iv.  10.  This  meaning 
of  our  text  well  comports  with  the  words 
which  immediately  precede,*  Whether  we  be 
beside  ourselves,  it  is  to  God  ;  or  whether 
we  be  sober,  it  is  for  your  cause  ;'  that  is  to 
say,  if  we  be  sometimes  at  such  an  immense 
distance  from  all  sensible  objects,  if  our 
minds  be  sometimes  so  absent  from  all  the 
things  that  occupy  and  agitate  the  minds  of 
other  men,  that  we  seem  to  be  entirely 
'  beside  ourselves,'  it  is  because  we  are  all 
concentrated  in  God  ;  it  is  because  our  capa- 
city, all  absorbed  in  this  great  object,  cannot 
q,ttend  to  any  thing  that  is  not  divine,  or 
which  does  not  proceed  immediately  from 
God. 

'  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us.' 
This  expression  may  mean,  ....  (my  bre- 
thren, it  is  not  my  usual  method  to  fill  my 
sermons  with  an  enumeration  of  the  different 
senses  that  interpreters  have  given  of  passa- 
ges of  Scripture  :  but  all  these  explications, 
which  I  repeat,  and  with  which  perhaps  I  may 
overcharge  my  discourse  to-day,  appear  to 
me  so  just  and  beautiful,  that  I  cannot  recon- 
cile myself  to  the  passing  of  them  over  in 
silence.  When  I  adopt  one,  I  seem  to  my- 
self to  regret  the  loss  of  another.)  This,  I 
say,  may  also  signify,  that  tiie  love  of  Jesus 
Christ  to  us  '  surrounds  us  on  every  side  ;'  or 
that  our  love  to  him  ptr cades,  and  possesses 
all  the  powers  of  our  souls. 

The  first  sense  of  the  original  term  is 
found  in  this  saying  of  Jesus  Ciirist  concern- 
ing Jerusalem,  '  Tlie  days  shall  come  upon 
thee,  that  thine  enemies  shall  cast  a  trench 
about  thee  and  compass  thee  round,  and  keep 

2  R 


thee  in  on  every  side,'  Luke  xix.  43.  The  lat 
ter  is  a  still  more  beautiful  sense  of  the  term, 
and  perfectly  agrees  with  the  preceding 
words,  already  quoted,  '  If  we  be  beside  our- 
selves, it  is  to  God.'  A  prevalent  passion 
deprives  us  at  times  of  the  liberty  of  reason- 
ing justly,  and  of  conversing  accurately. 
Some  take  these  famous  words  of  St.  Paul 
in  this  sense,  '  I  could  wish  myself  accursed 
from  Christ  for  my  brethren,'  Rom.  ix.  3,  and 
these  of  Moses,  'Forgive  their  sin,  and  if  not, 
blot  me,  I  pray  thee,  out  of  thy  book,"  Exod. 
xxxii.  32.  Not  that  a  believer  in  Christ 
can  ever  coolly  consent  to  be  seperated  from 
Christ,  or  blotted  out  of  the  catalogue  of 
those  blessed  souls,  for  whom  God  reserves 
eternal  happiness  :  but  these  expressions  flow 
from  '  transports  of  love'  in  holy  men.  They 
were  'beside  themselves,' transported  beyond 
their  judgment.  It  is  the  state  of  a  soul 
occupied  with  one  great  interest,  animated 
with  only  one  great  passion. 

Finally,  these  words  also  are  equivocal, 
'If  one  died  for  all,'  that  is  to  say,  if  Jesus 
Christ  has  satisfied  divine  justice  by  his 
death  for  all  men,  then,  all  they  who  have  re- 
course to  it,  are  accounted  to  have  satisfied 
it  in  his  person.  Or  rather,  '  If  one  died  for 
all,'  if  no  man  can  arrive  at  salvation  but  by 
the  grace  which  the  death  of  Christ  obtain- 
ed for  him,'  then  are  all  dead,' then  all  ought 
to  take  his  death  for  a  model  by  dying  them- 
selves to  sin.  Agreeably  to  this  idea,  St. 
Paul  says,  '  We  are  buried  with  him  by  bap- 
tism into  death,'  Rom.  vi.  4,  that  is,  the  cere- 
mony of  wholly  immersing  us  in  water,  when 
we  were  baptized,  signified,  that  we  died  to 
sin,  and  that  of  raising  us  again  from  our  im- 
mersion signified,  that  we  would  no  more 
return  to  those  disorderly  practices,  in  which 
we  lived  before  our  conversion  to  Christianity. 
'Knowing  this,' adds  our  apostle,  'in  tliat 
Christ  died,  he  died  unto  sin  once  ;  but  in 
that  he  liveth,  he  liveth  unto  God,'  ver.  10. 
Thus  in  my  text,  '  If  one  died  for  all,  then 
were  all  dead,'  that  is,  agreeable  to  the  fol- 
lowing words,  '  He  died  for  all,  that  thin- 
which  live,  should  not  henceforth  live  unto 
themselves:  but  unto  him,  which  died  for 
them,  and  rose  again.' 

Such  is  the  diversity  of  interpretations,  of 
which  the  words  of  my  text  are  susceptible. 
Nothing  can  be  farther  from  my  design,  no- 
thing would  less  comport  with  the  holiness  of 
this  day,  than  to  put  each  of  these  in  an  even 
balance,  and  to  examine  with  scrupulositv 
which  merited  the  preference.  I  would  wish 
to  unite  them  all,  as  far  as  it  is  practicable, 
and  as  far  as  the  time  allotted  for  this  exer- 
cise will  allow.  They,  who  have  written  on 
eloquence,  should  have  remarked  one  fio-nre 
of  speech,  which,  I  think,  has  not  been  ob- 
served, I  mean,  a  sublime  ambiguity.  I  nu- 
derstand  by  this,  the  artifice  of  a  man,  who, 
not  being  able  to  express  his  rich  ideas  bv 
simple  terms,  of  deteiminate  meaning,  mako.<! 
use  of  others,  which  excite  a  multitude  nf 
ideas ;  like  those  war-machines  that  strike 
several  Wciys  at  once.  I  could  show  you 
many  examples  of  these  traits  of  eloquence 
both  in  sacred  and  profane  writers  :  but  such 
discu.ssions  would  be  impropei  here. 

In  general,   we  are  fully  persuaded,  that 


310 


THE  EFFICACY  OF 


[Ser.  XXXIV, 


tho  design  of  St.  Paul  in  my  text  is  to  ex- 
press the  power  of  those  impressions,  which 
the  love  of  Jesus  Christ  to  mankind  makes 
on  the  hearts  of  real  Christians.  This  is  an 
idea  that  reigns  in  all  the  writings  of  this 
apostle  ;  and  it  especially  prevails  in  this 
epistle,  from  wiiich  our  text  is  taken.  '  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,'  2.  Cor.  iii.  18.  'Al- 
ways bearing  about  in  the  body  the  dying  of 
the  Lord  Jesus,  that  the  life  also  of  Jesus 
might  be  made  manifest  in  our  body,'  chap, 
iv.  10.  '  Though  our  outward  man  perish, 
yet  the  inward  man  is  renewed  day  by  day. 
Our  light  affliction,  which  is  but  for  a  mo- 
ment, worketh  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory  :  while  wo  look 
not  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the 
things  which  are  not  seen  ;  for  the  things 
which  are  seen  are  temporal  ;  but  the  things 
which  are  not  seen  are  eternal,'  ver  16. — 18. 
*  He  that  hatli  wrought  us  for  the  self  same 
thing,  is  God,  who  also  hath  given  unto  us 
the  earnest  of  the  Spirit,'  chap.  v.  5.  '  We 
are  willing  rather  to  be  absent  from  the  body, 
and  present  with  the  Lord,'  ver.  8.  Again 
in  the  text,  '  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth 
us,  because  we  thus  judge,  that  if  one  died 
for  all,  then  were  all  dead  ;  and  tliat  he  died 
for  all,  that  tliey  which  live,  should  not 
henceforth  live  unto  themselves,  but  unto 
hirn  which  died  for  them,  and  rose  again.' 
This  is  the  language  of  a  soul,  on  whicli  the 
love  of  Christ  makes  lively  and  deep  impres- 
sions. 

Let  us  follow  this  idea,  and,  in  order  to 
unite,  as  far  as  union  is  practicable,  all  the 
different  explications  I  have  mentioned,  let 
us  consider  these  impressions, 

I.  In  regard  to  the  vehement  desires  and 
sentiments  they  excite  in  our  hearts.  '  This 
love  constraineth,'  it  possesses,  it  transports 
us. 

II.  In  regard  to  the  several  recipients  of 
it.  '  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us,'  us 
believers,  and  particularly  us  ministers  of  the 
gospel,  who  are  heralds  of  the  love  of  God. 

III.  In  regard  to  the  consolations  which 
are  experienced  through  the  influence  of 
love  in  the  miseries  of  life,  and  in  the  ago- 
nies of  death,  of  which  the  apostle  speaks  in 
the  preceding  verses. 

IV.  In  regard  to  tlie  universality  of  that 
devotedness,  with  which  tliese  sentiments 
inspire  us  to  this  Jesus,  who  has  loved  us  in 
a  manner  so  tender.  '  He  died  for  all,  that 
they  which  live  should  not  henceforth  live 
unto  themselves,  but  unto  him  which  died 
for  them,  and  rose  again  ' 

After  we  have  considered  these  ideas  sepa- 
rately, I  will  endeavour  to  unite  them  r-H  to- 
gether, and  apply  them  to  the  mystery  of 
this  day.  God  grant,  when  you  come  to  the 
table  of  Jesus  Christ,  when  you  receive  from 
our  hands  the  bread  and  the  wine,  the  sym- 
bols of  his  love,  when  in  his  name  we  say  to 
you, '  This  is  my  body,  this  is  my  blood  ;'  you 
may  answer,  from  the  bottom  of  a  soul  pene- 
trated with  this  love,  '  The  love  of  Christ 
constraineth  us,  because  we  thus  judge,  that 
if  one  died  for  all,  then  were  all  dead;    and 


that  he  died  for  all,  that  they  which  live 
should  not  henceforth  live  unto  themselves, 
but  unto  him  which  died  for  them,  and  rose 
again.' 

I.  Let  us  consider  the  impressions  of  the 
love  of  Christ  on  us  in  regard  to  the  vehe- 
mence of  those  desires,  and  the  vivacity  of 
those  sentiments,  which  are  exci/ed  by  it  in 
the  soul  of  a  real  Christian.  1  am  well  aware 
that  lively  sentiments,  and  vehement  desires, 
seem  entirely  chimerical  to  some  people. 
There  are  many  persons,  who  imagine  that 
the  degree,  to  which  they  have  carried  piety, 
is  the  highest  that  can  be  attained ;  that 
there  is  no  going  be\'ond  it ;  and  that  all 
higher  pretensions  are  unsubstantial,  and  en- 
thusiastical.  Agreeably  to  this  notion,  they 
think  it  right  to  strike  out  of  the  list  of 
real  virtues  as  many  as  their  preachers  re- 
commend of  this  kind,  although  they  seem 
celebrated  in  Scripture,  and  beautifully  ex- 
emplified in  the  lives  of  the  holy  men  of 
old.  I  am  speaking  now  of  zeal  and  fervour. 
This  pretence,  all  extravagant  as  it  is, 
seems  to  be  founded  on  reason,  and  has  I 
know  not  what  of  the  serious  and  grave  in 
its  extravagance.  It  is  impossible,  say  they, 
that  abstract  truths  should  niake  the  same 
impressions,  on  men  composed  of  flesh  and 
blood,  as  sensible  objects  do.  Now  all  is  ab- 
stract in  religion.  An  invisible  Redeemer, 
invisible  assistance,  an  invisible  judge,  invisi- 
ble punishments,  invisible  rewards. 

Were  the  people,  whom  I  oppose,  to  attri- 
bute their  coldness  and  indifference  to  their 
own  frailty  ;  were  they  endeavouring  to  cor- 
rect it ;  were  they  succeeding  in  attempts 
to  free  themselves  from  it  ;  we  would  not 
reply  to  their  pretence  :  but,  when  tliey  are 
systematically  cold  and  indolent ;  when,  not 
content  with  a  passive  obedience  to  these  de- 
plorable dispositions,  they  refuse  to  grant 
the  ministers  of  the  gospel  the  liberty  of  at- 
tacking them  ;  when  they  pretend  that  we 
should  meditate  on  the  doctrines  of  redemp- 
tion and  on  a  geometrical  calculation  with 
equal  coolness  ;  that  these  words,  '  God  so 
loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begot- 
ten Son  to  save  it,'  should  be  pronounced 
with  the  same  indifference  as  these,  '  The 
whole  is  greater  than  a  part;'  this  is  the 
Iieight  of  injustice.  We  are  not  obliged,  we 
think,  to  reason  with  people  of  tliis  kind,  and 
while  they  remain  destitute  of  that  faculty, 
without  which  they  cannot  enter  into  those 
demonstrations,  which  we  could  produce  on 
this  article,  it  would  be  in  vain  to  pretend 
to  convince  them. 

After  all,  we  glory  in  being  treated  by  per- 
sons of  this  kind  in  the  same  manner,  in 
which  they  would  have  treated  saints  of  the 
highest  order,  those  eminent  pietists,  who 
felt  the  fine  emotions,  which  they  style  en- 
thusiasm and  fanaticism.  What  impressions 
01  r(!ligion,  h-u  Mosr^s,  David,  Elias,  and 
many  other  saints,  a  list  of  whom  we  have 
not  time  to  produce  .-"  Vvtre  the  ^.entinicnts 
of  those  men  old,  who  uttered  their  emo- 
tions in  such  language  as  tins  .'  '  O  Lord  !  I 
beseech  thee,  show  me  :)y  glory,'  Exod. 
xxxiii.  18.  '  6  Lord !  for^^-v';  their  sin,  or 
blot  me,  I  pray  thee,  out  of  the  bof'k,  chap, 
xxxii.  32.    '  I  have  been  very  jealous  for  the 


See.  XXXIV] 


THE  DEATH  OF  CHRIST. 


!11 


Lord  God  of  hosts,'  1  Kings  xix.  10.  '  The 
zeal  of  thine  house  hath  eaten  me  up,'  Ps. 
Ixix.  9.  '  How  amiable  are  these  tabernacles, 
O  Lord  of  hosts  I  My  heart  and  my  flesh  cry 
out  for  the  living  God.  When  shall  I  come, 
and  appear  before  God  .''  Before  thine  altars, 
O  Lord  of  hosts,  my  king,  and  my  God  !'  Ps. 
Ixxxiv.  1 — 3.  '  As  the  hart  panteth  after 
the  water  brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  afler 
thee,  O  God  !  My  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  for 
the  living  God  !'  chap.  xlii.  1,2.  '  Love  is 
strong   as   death.     Jealousy  is  cruel  as  the 

frave.     The  coals  thereof  are  coals  of  fire, 
lany  waters  cannot  quench  love,  neither  can 
the  floods  drown  it,'  Cant.  viii.  6,  7. 

If  religion  has  produced  such  lively  sen- 
timents, such  vehement  desires  in  the  hearts 
of  those  believers,  who  saw  in  a  very  imper- 
fect manner  the  objects,  that  are  most  capa- 
ble of  producing  them,  I  mean  the  cross,  and 
all  its  mysteries,  what  emotions  ought  not  to 
be  excited  in  us,  who  behold  them  in  a  light 
so  clear  ? 

Ah,  sinner  !  thou  miserable  victim  of  death 
and  hell,  recollect  the  means  that  grace  has 
employed  to  deliver  thee  !  raised  from  the 
bottom  of  a  black  abyss,  contemplate  the  love 
that  brought  thee  up,  behold,  stretch  thy 
soul,  and  measure  the  dimensions  of  it.  Re- 
present to  thyself  the  Son  of  God  enjoying  in 
the  bosom  of  his  Father  ineffable  delights, 
himself  the  object  of  his  adorable  Father's 
love.  Behold  the  Son  of  God  casting  his 
eyes  on  this  earth,  touched  with  a  sight  of 
the  miseries  into  which  sin  had  plunged  the 
wretched  posterity  of  Adam ;  forming  from 
all  eternity  the  generous  design  of  suffering 
in  thy  stead,  and  executing  his  purpose  in 
the  fulness  of  time.  See  him,  whom  angels 
adore,  uniting  himself  to  mortal  flesh  in  the 
virgin's  womb,  wrapped  in  swaddling  clothes, 
and  lying  in  a  manger  at  Bethlehem.  Repre- 
sent to  thyself  Jesus  suffering  the  just  dis- 
pleasure of  God  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane; 
sinking  under  the  weight  of  thy  sins,  with 
which  he  was  charged  ;  crying  in  the  extre- 
mity of  his  pain,  '  O  my  Father  !  if  it  be 
possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me !'  See 
Jesus  passing  over  the  brook  Cedron,  carry- 
ing to  Calvary  his  cross,  execrated  by  an  un- 
bridled populace,  fastened  to  the  infamous 
instrument  of  his  punishment,  crowned  with 
thorns,  and  rent  asunder  with  nails  ;  losing 
sight  for  a  while  of  the  love  of  his  Father, 
■which  constituted  all  his  peace  and  joy ; 
bowing  under  the  last  stroke,  and  uttering 
these  tragical  words,  which  ought  to  make 
all  sinners  shed  tears  ol  b^^od,  '  My  God ! 
my  God  !  why  hast  thou  for.sak«;i  .•«  .'"  Ah  ! 
philosophical  gravity  !  cool  reasoning  !  how 
misemployed  are  ye  in  meditating  these  deep 
mysteries  !  '  How  excellent  is  thy  loving  kind- 
ness, O  God!'  Ps.  xxxvi.  7.  '  My  soul  shall 
be  satisfied  as  with  marrow  and  fatness,  when 
I  remember  thee  upon  my  bed,  and  meditate 
on  thee  in  the  night-watches,'  Ps.  Ixiii.  5,  6. 
*  The  love  of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts 
by  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  given  unto  us,' 
Rom.  V.  5.  '  I  am  crucified  with  Christ : 
nevertheless  I  live  ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ 
liveth  in  me  ;  and  the  life  which  I  now  live  j 
in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  i 
God,  who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  | 


me,'  Gal.  ii. 20.  'He  that  has  wrought  ug 
for  the  self-same  thing  is  God,  who  also  has 
given  unto  us  the  earnest  of  his  Spirit.  The 
love  of  Christ  constraineth  us,  because  we 
thus  judge,  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then 
were  all  dead.'  This  is  the  language  of  a 
heart  inflamed  with  an  idea  of  the  love  of 
Christ. 

II.  Let  us  consider  the  impressions  of  the 
love  of  Jesus  Christ  in  regard  to  the  dif- 
ferent receivers  of  it.  '  The  love  of  Christ 
constraineth  us,'  us,  that  is  to  say  us  be- 
lievers, whatever  rank  we  occupy  in  the 
church:  but  in  a  particular  manner  us  apos- 
tles of  the  Lord.  I  have  already  intimated, 
that  my  text  may  be  considered  as  an  ex- 
plication of  what  related  to  the  apostles 
in  the  foregoing  verse.  What  idea  had  St. 
Paul  given  of  apostleship  in  the  preceding 
verses .'  He  had  represented  these  holy  men 
as  all  taken  up  with  the  duties  of  their  of- 
fice ;  as  surmounting  the  greatest  obstacles ; 
as  triumphing  over  the  most  violent  con- 
flicts in  the  discharge  of  their  function ;  as 
acquitting  themselves  with  a  rectitude  of  con- 
science capable  of  sustaining  the  strictest 
scrutiny  of  men,  yea  of  God  himself;  as 
deeply  sensible  of  the  honour  that  God  had 
put  upon  them,  by  calling  them  to  such  a 
work  ;  as  devoting  all  their  labours,  all  their 
diligence,  and  all  their  time,  to  the  salvation 
of  the  souls  of  men.  We  must  repeat  all  the 
foregoing  chapters,  were  we  to  confirm  these 
observations  by  the  apostle's  own  words.  In 
these  chapters  we  meet  with  the  following 
expressions.  *  Our  rejoicing  is  this,  the  tes- 
timony of  our  conscience,'  2  Cor.  i.  1.2.  • 
'  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,'  chap.  ii.  14.  '  We  are  not  as  many, 
which  corrupt  the  word  of  God :  but  as  of 
sincerity,  but  as  of  God,  in  the  sight  of  God 
speak  we  in  Christ,'  ver.  17.  '  If  the  minis- 
tration of  death,  written  and  engraven  in 
stones,  was  glorious,  so  that  the  children  of 
Israel  could  not  steadfastly  behold  the  face  of 
Moses,  for  the  glory  of  his  countenance, 
which  glory  was  to  be  done  away  ;  how  shall 
not  the  ministration  of  the  Spirit  be  rather 
glorious  .''■  chap.  iii.  7,  8.  '  All  things  are  for 
your  sakes,  that  abundant  grace  might  re- 
dound to  the  glory  of  God,'  chap.  iv.  15.  To 
the  same  purpose  are  the  words  immediately 
preceding  the  text.  '  Whether  we  be  beside 
ourselves,  it  is  to  God,  or  whether  we  be 
sober,  it  is  for  your  cause.'  What  cause  pro- 
duced all  these  noble  effects .'  What  object 
animated  St.  Paul,  and  the  other  apostles,  to 
fill  up  the  noble  character  they  bore  in  a  man- 
ner so  glorious  .'  St.  Paul  tells  you  in  the 
text,  '  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us ;' 
that  is  to  say,  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ  to  his 
church  makes  such  deep  and  lively  impres- 
sions on  our  hearts,  that  we  can  never  lose 
sight  of  it.  We  think  we  can  never  take  too 
much  pains  for  the  good  of  a  society,  which 
Jesus  Christ  so  tenderly  loves.  We  are  so 
filled  with  gratitude  for  his  condescension, 
first  for  incorporating  us  into  this  august 
body,  and  next  for  substituting  us  to  act  in 
his  place,  that  we  rejoice  in  every  opportuni- 
ty of  sacrificing  all  to  express  our  sense  of  it. 


112 


THE  EFFICACY  OF 


[Ser.  XXXIV. 


These  are  the  true  seutunents  of  a  minis- 
ter ofthc  gospel.  When  I  speak  of  a  minis- 
ter of  the  gospel,  I  do  not  mean  a  minister 
l)y  trade  and  profession  only,  I  mean  a  min- 
ister by  inclination  and  affection.  For,  my 
brethren,  there  are  two  sorts  of  ministers, 
Ihe  one  I  may  justly  denominate  trading 
ministers,  the  other  affectionate  ministers. 
A  trading  minister,  who  considers  the  func- 
tions of  his  ministry  in  temporal  views  only, 
who  studies  the  evidences  and  doctrines  of 
religion,  not  to  confirm  himself,  but  to  con- 
vince others,  who  puts  on  the  exterior  of 
piety,  but  is  destitute  of  the  sentiments  of  it, 
is  a  character  sordid  and  base,  I  had  almost 
said  odious,  and  execrable.  What  charac- 
ter can  be  more  odious  and  execrable,  than 
that  of  a  man,  who  gives  evidence  of  a  truth, 
which  he  himself  does  not  believe .'  Wlio 
excites  the  most  lively  emotions  in  an  audi- 
tory, while  he  himself  is  less  affected  than 
any  of  his  hearers .''  But  there  is  also  a 
minister  by  inclination  and  affection,  who 
studies  the  truths  of  religion,  because  they 
present  to  him  the  most  sublime  objects, 
that  a  reasonable  creature  can  contemplate, 
and  who  speaks  with  eagerness  and  vehe- 
mence on  these  truths,  because,  he  perceives, 
they  only  aie  worthy  of  governing  intelli- 
gent beings. 

What  effects  does  a  meditation  of  the  love 
of  God  in  Christ  produce  on  the  heart  of 
such  a  minister  .'  St.  Paul  mentions  the  ef- 
fects in  the  text,  '  The  love  of  Christ  con- 
straineth,  surroundeth,  presseth,  transport- 
cth,  him.'  My  brethren,  pardon  me  if  I  say 
the  greatest  part  of  you  are  not  capable  of 
entering  into  these  reflections ;  for,  as  you 
consider  the  greatest  mysteries  of  the  gospel 
onlj'  in  a  vague  and  superficial  manner,  you 
neither  know  the  solidity  nor  the  beauty  of 
them,  you  neither  perceive  the  foundation, 
the  connexion,  nor  the  glory  of  them.  Hence 
it  is,  that  your  minds  are  unhappy  when 
they  attend  long  to  these  subjects  ;  reading 
tires  you,  meditation  fatigues  you,  a  discourse 
of  an  hour  wears  out  all  your  patience,  the 
languor  of  your  desires  answers  to  the  na- 
ture of  your  applications,  and  your  sacrifi- 
(;es  to  religion  correspond  to  the  faintness  of 
those  desires,  and  to  the  dulness  of  those  ap- 
plications, which  produced  them.  It  was 
not  thus  with  St.  Paul,  nor  is  it  thus  with 
such  a  minister  of  the  gospel  as  I  have  de- 
scribed. As  he  meditates,  he  learns;  as  he 
learns,  his  desire  of  knowing  increases.  He 
sees  the  whole  chain  of  wonders,  that  God 
has  wrought  for  the  salvation  of  men  ;  he 
admires  to  see  a  promise  made  to  Adam  re- 
newed to  Abraham  ;  he  rejoices  to  find  a 
promise  renewed  to  Abraham  confirmed  to 
Moses  ;  he  is  delighted  to  see  a  promise  con- 
firmed to  Moses  published  by  the  prophets, 
and  long  after  that  publication  accomplished 
by  Jesus  Christ.  Charmed  with  all  these 
duties,  he  thinks  it  felicity  to  enter  into  the 
views  and  the  functions  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
to  become  '  a  worker  together  with  him,' 
cliap.  vi.  1 ;  this  work  engrosses  all  his 
thoughts  ;  he  lives  only  to  advance  it ;  he 
sacrifices  all  to  this  great  design  ;  he  is  'be- 
side liimself.'  Why  .-'  '  The  love  of  Christ 
constraint-lh  him.' 


III.  Let  us  add  a  few  considerations  on 
the  impressions  of  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ 
in  regard  to  '  the  consolations  which  they 
afford  in  the  miseries  of  life,  and  in  the  ago- 
nies of  death.' 

By  what  unheard  of  secret  does  the  Cliris- 
tian  surmount  pain  ?  By  what  unheard  of 
secret  does  he  find  pleasure  in  the  idea  of 
death  ?  St.  Paul  informs  us  in  the  text. 
'  The  love  of  Christ  possesseth  us,  becauise 
we  thus  judge,  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then 
were  all  dead.  If  one  died  for  all,  then  were 
all  dead,'  this  is  the  source  of  the  consola- 
tions of  a  dying  man,  this  is  the  only  rational 
system  that  men  have  opposed  against  the 
fears  of  death.  All  besides  are  vain  and 
feeble,  not  to  say  stupid  and  absurd. 

What  can  be  more  improper  to  support  us 
under  the  fear  of  death  than  the  presump- 
tions, the  uncertainties,  the  tremulous  hopes 
of  a  Socrates,  or  a  Seneca,  or  other  pagan 
philosophers  ? 

What  can  be  less  likely  to  arm  us  against 
the  fear  of  death  than  distant  consequences 
drawn  from  confused  notions  of  the  nature 
of  the  soul,  such  as  natural  religion  affords.' 
What  can  be  less  substantial  than  vague  spe- 
culations on  the  benevolence  of  the  Supreme 
Being  ? 

Can  any  thing  be  more  extravagant,  can 
any  thing  be  less  capable  of  supporting  us  un- 
der the  fear  of  death,  than  that  art  which 
worldlings  use,  of  avoiding  the  sight  of  it, 
and  of  stupifying  the  soul  in  tumult  and 
noise  ? 

Let  us  not  assume  a  brutal  courage ;  let 
us  not  affect  an  intrepidity  which  we  are  in- 
capable of  maintaining,  and  which  will  de- 
ceive us,  when  the  enemy  comes.  Poor  mor- 
tal !  victim  of  death  and  hell !  do  not 
say,'  I  am  increased  in  goods,  and  have  need 
of  nothing,'  Rev.  iii.  17,  while  every  voice 
around  thee  cries,  '  Thou  art  poor  and  mise- 
rable, blind  and  naked.'  Let  us  acknowledge 
our  miseries.  Every  thing  in  dying  terrifies 
me. 

The  pains  that  precede  it,  terrify  me.  I 
shudder  when  I  see  a  miserable  creature 
burning  with  a  fever,  suffocated,  tormented, 
enduring  more  on  a  death-bed  than  a  crimi- 
nal suffers  on  a  scaffold  or  a  wheel.  When 
I  see  this,  I  say  to  myself,  this  is  the  state 
into  which  I  must  shortly  come. 

The  sacrijices  to  which  death  calls  us,  ter- 
rify me.  I  am  not  able,  without  rending 
my  soul  with  insufferable  grief,  I  am  not 
able  to  look  at  the  dismal  veil  that  is  about  to 
cover  every  object  of  my  delight.  Ah  !  how 
can  I  bear  to  contemplate  myself  dissolving 
my  strongest  bonds,  leaving  my  nearest  re- 
lations, quitting,  for  ever  quitting,  my  most 
tender  friends,  and  tearing  myself  from  my 
own  family  ? 

The  state  into  which  death  brings  my  bo- 
dy, terrifies  me.  I  cannot  without  horror 
figure  to  myself  my  funeral,  my  coffin,  my 
grave,  my  organs,  to  which  my  Creator  has 
so  closely  united  my  soul,  cold  and  motion- 
less, without  feeling  and  life. 

Above  all,  the  idea  of  a  just  trihvnaJ,  be- 
fore which  death  will  place  me,  terrifies  me. 
My  hair  starts  and  stiffens  on  my  head,  my 
blood  freezes  in  my  veins,  my  thoughts  trem- 


Ser.  XXXIV.] 


THE  DEATH  OF  CHRIST. 


313 


ble  and  clash,  my  knees  smite  together,  when 
I  reflect  on  these  words  of  St.  Paul  just  be- 
fore my  text,  '  We  must  all  appear  before 
the  judgment-seat  of  Christ,  that  every  one 
may  receive  the  things  done  in  his  body,  ac- 
cording to  that  he  hath  done,  whether  it  be 
good  or  bad,'  ver.  10.  Miserable  I !  I,  who 
have  so  often  sinned  against  my  own  light ; 
I,  who  have  so  often  forgotten  my  Creator  ; 
I,  who  have  so  often  been  a  scourge  to  my 
neighbour  ;  so  often  a  scandal  to  the  church ; 
wretcheS  I !  1  must  '  appear  before  the 
judgment-seat  of  Christ,  to  receive  the  things 
done  in  my  body,  whether  they  be  good  or 
bad !'  What  an  idea  !  What  a  terrible,  what 
a  desperate  idea ! 

The  impressions  which  an  idea  of  the 
love  of  Christ  makes  upon  my  soul,  efface 
those  gloomy  impressions  which  an  idea  of 
death  had  prodiited  there.  '  The  love  of 
Christ'  consoles  my  soul  and  dissipates  all 
my  fears.  '  If  one  died  for  all,  then  were  all 
dead,'  is  a  short  system  against  the  fear  of 
death. 

'  Jesus  Christ  died  for  all.'  The  pains  of 
death  terrify  me  no  more.  When  I  compare 
what  Jesus  Christ  appoints  me  to  suffer  with 
what  he  suffered  for  me,  my  pains  vanish, 
and  seem  nothing  to  me.  Besides,  how  can  I 
doubt,  whether  he,  who  had  so  much  love  as  to 
die  for  me,  will  support  me  under  the  pains  of 
death  ?  Having  been  '  tried  in  all  points  like 
aa  we  are,'  will  he  net  be  '  touched  with  a 
feeling  of  my  infirmities,'  and  deliver  me 
when  I  am  tried  as  he  was. 

'  Jesus  Christ  died  for  all.'  The  sacrifices 
that  death  requires  of  me,  terrify  me  no 
more.  I  am  fully  persuaded,  God  will  in- 
demnify me  for  all  that  death  takes  from  me, 
and  he  who  gave  me  his  own  Son,  '  will 
with  him  also  freely  give  me  all  things,'  Rom. 
viii.  32. 

'Jesus  Christ  died  for  all.'  The  state  to 
which  death  reduces  my  body,  terrifies  me 
no  more.  Jesus  Christ  has  sanctified  my 
grave,  and  his  resurrection  is  a  pledge  of  mine. 

'Jesus  Christ  died  for  all.'  The  tribunal 
before  which  death  places  me,  has  nothing 
in  it  to  terrify  me.  Jesus  Christ  has  si- 
lenced it.  The  blows  of  divine  justice  fell 
on  his  head,  and  he  is  the  guardian  of  mine. 
Thus  '  the  love  of  Christ  presseth,  cover- 
etb,  and  surroundeth  us,  because  we  thus 
judge,  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then  were  all 
dead.' 

IV.  The  impressions  of  the  love  of  Christ 
on  us  are  considerable,  in  regard  to  that 
universal  obedience  with  which  the  tender 
love  of  a  Redeemer  inspires  us.  This  is  the 
meaning  of  these  words,  '  He  died  for  all, 
that  they  which  live  should  not  henceforth 
live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  him  which 
died  for  them,  and  rose  again.'  Of  the  cha- 
racters, the  motives,  the  pleasures,  of  this 
universal  obedience,  you  cannot  be  ignorant, 
my  brethren.  They  make  a  chief  matter 
of  all  the  discourses  that  are  addressed  to 
you ;  and  they  have  been  particularly  the 
topics  for  some  weeks  past,  while  wo  were 
going  over  the  history  of  the  passion  of 
Christ,  a  history  that  may  be  truly  called  a 
narration  of  Christ's  love  to  you.  I  will 
therefore  confine  myself  to  one  reflection. 


I  make  this  reflection,  in  order  to  prevent 
mistakes  on  this  disposition  of  mind,  of  which 
my  text  speaks.  Let  us  not  imagine,  that 
St.  Paul,  by  exhorting  us  to  live  only  to 
Christ,  intends  to  dissuade  us  from  living  for 
the  benefit  of  our  fellow  creatures.  On  the 
contrary,  I  have  already  recommended  that 
sense  of  the  words  which  some  commenta- 
tors give  ;  '  the  love  of  Christ  constraineth 
us,'  that  is,  say  some,  the  love  of  Christ 
unites  us  in  bonds  of  love  to  one  another ; 
and  I  have  already  shown,  that  if  this  could 
not  be  proved  to  be  the  precise  meaning  of 
St.  Paul  in  the  text,  it  is,  however,  a  very 
just  notion  in  itself,  and  a  doctrine  taught  by 
the  apostle  in  express  words  in  other  places. 
But  what  I  have  not  yet  remarked  is  this. 
In  the  opinion  of  some  interpreters  there  is 
a  close  connection  between  the  words  of  my 
text,  '  the  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us,'  and 
the  preceding  words,  '  whether  we  be  beside 
ourselves,  it  is  to  God;  or  whether  we  be  sober, 
it  is  for  your  cause.'  According  to  this  no- 
tion, St.  Paul  having  described  the  two  parts  of 
devotion,  or  if  you  will,  the  two  kinds  of  Chris- 
tian devotion,  unites  both  in  this  general  ex- 
pression, '  live  unto  Christ.'  The  one  is  the 
devotion  of  the  closet,  the  other  that  of  soci- 
ety. Closet  devotion  is  expressed  in  the 
words, '  whether  we  be  beside  ourselves,  it  is 
to  God.'  This  is  expressive  of  the  effusions  of 
a  soul,  who,  having  excluded  the  world,  and 
being  alone  with  his  God,  unfolds  a  heart 
penetrated  with  love  to  him.  '  Wliether  we 
be  sober,  it  is  for  your  cause,  for  the  love  of 
Christ  uniteth  us,'  signifies  the  state  of  a 
soul,  who  having  quitted  the  closet,  having 
returned  to  his  natural  course  of  thought, 
and  having  entered  into  the  society  in  which 
God  has  appointed  him  to  live,  makes  the 
happiness  of  his  neighbour  his  principal  occu- 
pation. 

I  say  of  this  interpretation,  as  I  said  of  a 
former,  I  am  not  sure  that  it  contains  pre- 
cisely the  meaning  of  St.  Paul  in  the  text  ; 
but  it  contains  an  idea  very  just  in  itself,  and 
which  the  apostle,  as  well  as  all  other  inspi- 
red writers,  has  expressed  elsewhere.  Would 
you  then  perform  this  necessary  duty,  agree- 
ably to  this  sense  of  the  text  ?  Would  they 
'  who  live,  not  live  to  themselves,  but  unto 
him  who  died  for  them,  and  rose  again  .-"  Let 
your  devotion  have  two  parts.  Let  your 
life  be  divided  into  two  sorts  of  devotion,  the 
devotion  of  the  closet,  and  the  devotion  of 
society. 

Practise  private  devotion,  be  beside  your- 
selves unto  God.  Believer !  Is  it  right  for 
thee  to  indemnify  thyself  by  an  immediate 
communion  with  thy  God  for  the  violence 
that  is  done  to  thine  affection,  when  thou  art 
obliged,  either  wholly  to  lose  sight  of  him,  or 
to  see  him  only  through  mediums,  which  con- 
ceal a  part  of  his  beauty  .'  Well  then,  enter 
into  thy  closet,shufthy  door  against  the  world, 
flee  from  society,  and  forget  it,  give  thyself 
up  to  the  delights  which  holy  souls  feel  when 
they  absorb  themselves  in  God.  Beseech 
him,  after  the  example  of  inspired  men  in 
their  private  interviews  with  him,  to  manifest 
himself  to  you  in  a  more  intimate  manner. 
Say  to  him  as  they  said,  '  O  Lord,  I  bes.ech 
theC;  show  me  thy  glory.    It  is  good  for  me 


314 


THE  EFFICACY  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  CHRIST.         [Ser.  XXXIV. 


to  draw  near  to  God.  Whom  have  I  in  hea- 
ven but  thee  ?  there  is  none  upon  earth  that 
I  desire  besides  thee,'  Exod.  xx.xiii.  18 ;  Ps. 
Ixxxiii.  28.  25. 

But,  after  thou  hast  performed  the  devotion 
of  the  closet,  practise  the  devotion  of  society. 
After  thou  hast  been  beside  thyself  to  God, 
be  sober  to  thy  neighbour.  Let  love  unite 
thee  to  the  rest  of  mankind  Visit  the  pri- 
soner ;  relieve  the  sick  ;  guide  the  doubtful ; 
assist  him  who  stands  in  need  of  your  credit. 
Distrust  a  piety  that  it  is  not  ingenious  at 
rendering  thee  useful  to  society.  St.  Paul 
fiomevvhere  says,  '  All  the  law  is  fulfilled  in 
one  word,  even  in  this,  thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbour  as  thyself  This  proposition  seems 
hyperbolical.  Some  expositors  have  thought 
it  justifiable,  by  supposing,  that  the  apostle 
speaks  here  only  of  the  second  table  of  the  law. 
Their  supposition  is  unnecessary.  Id  some 
respects  all  virtues  are  comprised  in  this 
command,  '  thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour.' 
To  love  our  neighbour,  we  must  be  humble. 
When  we  have  lofty  notions  of  ourselves,  it 
is  impossible  to  pay  that  attention  to  a  neigh- 
bour which  his  merit  demands.  To  love  our 
neighbour  we  must  be  patient.  When  the 
first  obstacle  discourages  us,  or  when  the 
least  opposition  inflames  our  tempers ;  it  is 
impossible  to  enter  into  those  details  which 
Jove  for  a  neigiibour  requires.  In  order  to 
discharge  the  duty  of  loving  a  neighbour,  we 
must  be  moderate  in  our  pleasures.  When 
we  are  devoted  to  pleasure,  it  is  impossible  to 
endure  those  disagreeables,  whicii  love  to  a 
neighbour  demands.  Above  all,  to  love  a 
neighbour,  we  must  lore  God.  Remember 
the  saying  of  St.  John,  *  If  a  man  say,  I 
love  God,  and  hateth  his  brother,  he  is  a  liar,' 
1  John  iv.  20.  For  what  is  love  ?  Is  it  not  that 
sympathy  which  forms  between  two  intelli- 
gent beings  a  conformity  of  ideas  and  senti- 
ment .'  And  how  can  we  flatter  ourselves, 
that  we  have  a  conformity  of  ideas  with  a 
God  of  love,  who  has  communicated  to  his 
creatures  a  conformity  of  sentiments  and 
ideas,  if  we  withhold  our  affection  from  his 
creatures,  and  live  only  to  ourselves.'  '  He 
then,  who  saith,  I  love  God,  and  hateth  his 
brother,  is  a  liar.'  If  thou  lost  not  love  him,  j 
thou  art  (permit  me  to  say  it),  thou  art  a  j 
visionary,  d  fanatic.  ! 

Who  is  a  visionary  .''  who  is  a  fanatic  '  He  ' 
is  a  man  who  creates  fanciful  ideas  of  God.  | 
He  is  a  man  who  frames  an  arbitrary  morali- 
ty. He  is  a  man,  who,  under  pretence  of 
living  to  God,  forgets  what  he  owes  to  his 
fellow  creatures.  And  this  is  exactly  the 
character  of  the  man,  whose  closet  devotion 
makes  him  neglect  social  religion.  Ah ! 
liadst  thou  just  notions  of  God,  thou  wouldst 
know,  that  '  God  is  love  ;'  and  hadst  thou 
just  notions  of  morality,  thou  wouldst  know, 
that  it  is  impossible  for  God,  who  is  love,  to 
prescribe  any  other  lov6  to  us,  than  that 
which  is  the  essence  of  all  moral  duties 

All  these  ideas,  my  brethren,  would  require 
much  enlargement :  but  time  fails.  I  shall 
not  scruple  so  much  the  closing  of  this  sub- 
ject to-day,  without  considering  it  in  every 
point  of  view,  as  I  should  do  in  our  ordinary 
exercises.  I  descend  from  this  pulpit  to  con- 
duct you  to  the  table  of  the  Lord,  on  which 


lie  the  symbols  of  that  love  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking,  and  they  will  exhort  you  in 
language  more  forcible  than  mine  to  reduce 
all  the  doctrine  of  this  day  to  practice. 

We  have  been  preaching  to  you  fervour, 
zeal,  transports  of  divine  love  ;  attend  to  those 
symbols,  they  preach  these  virtues  to  you  in 
words  more  powerful  than  ours.  Say  to 
yourselves,  when  you  approach  the  holy  table : 
it  was  on  the  evening  that  preceded  the  ter- 
rible day  of  my  Redeemer's  infinite  suff'erings, 
that  he  appointed  this  commemorative  supper. 
This  bread  is  a  memorial  of  his  body,  which 
was  bruised  for  my  sins  on  the  cross.  The 
wine  is  a  memorial  of  that  blood  which  so 
plentifully  flowed  from  his  wounds  to  ransom 
me  from  my  sins.  In  remembering  this  love 
is  there  any  ice  that  will  not  thaw  ?  Is  there 
any  marble  that  will  not  break  ?  will  not  love 
the  most  vehement,  animate  and  inflame 
you? 

We  have  been  preaching  that  the  love  of 
Jesus  Christ  ought  to  animate  you.  Hear  the 
j  voice  of  these  symbols,  they  preach  this  truth 
I  to  you  in  language  more  powerful  than  ours. 
j  There  is   not  to-day  among  you  an  old  man 
'<  so  infirm ;   nor  a  poor  man  so  mean  ;  nor  a 
1  citizen   so   unknown    to   his   fellow-citizens, 
that  he  may  not  approach  the  holy  table,  and 
receive  from  sovereign  wisdom  the  mysteri- 
ous repast. 

I  But  ministers  of  the  gospel,  we  have  been 
saying,  ought  more  than  other  men] to  be  ani- 
mated with  the  love  of  Christ.  My  dear 
colleagues  in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  hear 
these  symbols ;  they  preach  to  you  in  lan- 
guage more  powerful  than  ours.  What  a 
glory  has  God  put  upon  us  in  choosing  to 
commit  to  us  such  a  ministry  of  reconcilia- 
tion !  What  an  honour  to  be  called  to  preach 
such  a  gospel !  What  an  honour  to  be  ap- 
pointed dispensers  of  these  rich  favours, 
which  God  to-day  bestows  on  this  assembly  ! 
But  at  the  same  time,  what  love  ought  the 
love  of  God  to  us  excite  in  our  hearts  !  The 
heart  of  a  minister  of  the  gospel  should  be  an 
altar  on  which  divine  fire  should  bum  with 
unquenchable  flame. 

We  have  been  preaching  to  you,  that  the 
love  of  Christ  will  become  to  you  an  inex- 
haustible source  of  consolation  in  the  dis- 
tresses of  life,  and  in  the  agonies  of  death. 
Hear  these  symbols  ;  they  preach  these  truths 
to  you  in  language  more  forcible  than  ours. 
Hear  them ;  they  say  to  you  in  the  name  of 
God, 'Fear  not,  thou  worm  Jacob!  When 
thou  passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be 
with  thee,  and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall 
not  overflow  thee :  when  thou  walkest 
through  the  fire,  thou  shalt  not  be  burnt,' 
Isa.  xli.  14. 

We  have  been  preaching  to  you  a  univer- 
sal obedience  to  the  will  of  God.  Hear  these 
symbols  ;  they  preach  this  truth  to  you  in 
language  more  forcible  than  ours.  And  what 
exceptions  would  you  make  in  your  obedi- 
ence to  a  Saviour,  who  does  for  you  what  ' 
you  are  going  to  see,  to  hear,  and  to  experi- 
ence ?  What  can  you  refuse  to  a  Saviour, 
who  gave  you  his  blood  and  his  life  ;  to  a  Sa- 
viour, who,  on  his  throne,  where  he  is  receiv- 
ing the  adorations  of  angels  and  seraphim, 
thinks  of  your  bodies,  your  souls,  your  salva- 


Seb.  XXXV.] 


THE  LIFE  OF  FAITH. 


315 


tion ;  and  who  still  wishes  to  hold  the  most 
tender  and  intimate  communion  with  you  ? 

My  dear  brethren,  I  hope  so  many  exhorta- 
tions will  not  be  addressed  to  you  in  vain.  I  hope 
we  shall  not  be  ministers  of  vengeance  among 
you  to-day.  You  are  not  going,  I  trust,  by  re- 
cieving  sacramental  bread  and  wine  at  our 
hands  to-day,  to  eat  and  drink  your  own  con- 
demnation. I  hope  the  windows  ofheaven  will 
be  opened  to-day,  and  benedictions  from 
above  poured  out  on  this  assembly.  The  an- 
gels, I  trust,  are  waiting  to  rejoice  in  your 


conversion.  May  Jesus  Christ  testify  his  ap- 
probation of  your  love  to  him  by  shedding 
abroad  rich  effusions  of  his  love  among  you ! 
May  this  communion  be  remembered  with 
pleasure  when  you  come  to  die,  and  may  the 
pleasing  recollection  of  it  felicitate  you 
through  all  eternity  !  O  thou  '  Miglity  one  of 
Israel !'  O  Jesus,  our  hope  and  joy,  hear  and 
ratify  our  prayers  !  Ainen.  To  him,  as  to 
the  Father  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  be  honour 
and  glory  for  ever.     Amen. 


SERMON    XXXV. 


THE  LIFE  OF  FAITH. 


HABAKKUK    li.    4. 


The  just   shall  live   by  his  Failh. 


The  words  of  our  text,  which  open  to  us 
a  wide  field  of  reflections,  may  be  taken  in 
two  senses.  The  first  may  be  called  a  moral 
sense,  and  the  last  a  theological  sense.  The 
first  regards  the  circumstances  of  the  Jews, 
when  the  prophet  Habakkuk  delivered  this 
prophecy ;  and  the  last  respects  that  great 
object,  on  which  believers  have  fixed  their 
eyes  in  all  ages  of  the  church. 

Habakkuk  (for  I  enter  into  the  matter  im- 
mediately, in  order  to  have  full  time  to  dis- 
cuss the  subject,)  began  to  prophecy  before 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by  the  army  of 
Nebuchadnezzar,  and  he  was  raised  up  to 
announce  the  progress  of  that  scourge,  or,  as 
another  prophet  calls  him,  that  '  hammer  of 
the  whole  earth,'  Jer.  1.  23.  Habakkuk, 
astonished,  and,  in  a  manner,  offended  at 
his  own  predictions,  derives  strength  from 
the  attributes  of  God  to  support  himself 
under  this  trial,  and  expresses  himself  in  this 
manner  ;  '  Art  thou  not  from  everlasting,  O 
Lord  my  God,  mine  holy  one  .'  We  shall  not 
die,  O  Lord  !  thou  hast  ordained  tlieni  for 
judgment,  and,  O  niightv  God!  thou  hast 
established  them  for  correction.  Thou  art  of 
purer  eyes  than  to  behold  evil,'  chap.  i.  12, 13. 

The  prophet  goes  farther.  Not  content 
with  vague  ideas  on  a  subject  so  interest- 
ing, he  entreats  God  to  give  him  some  par- 
ticular Knowledge  by  revelation  of  the  des- 
tiny of  a  tyrant,  who  boasted  of  insulting 
God,  pillaging  his  temple,  and  carrying  his 
people  into  captivity :  '  I  will  stand  upon 
my  watch,  and  set  me  upon  the  tower,  and 
will  watch  to  see  what  he  will  say  unto 
me,'  The  Rabbles  give  a  very  singular 
exposition  of  the  words,  '  I  will  stand  upon 
my  watch,'  and  they  translate  them,  *  I  will 
confine  myself  in  a  circle  '  The  prophet,  say 
they,  drew  a  circle,  and  made  a  solemn  vow, 
that  he  would  not  go  out  of  it  till  God  had 
unfolded  those  dark  dispensations  to  him, 
which  seemed  so  injurious  to  his  perfections. 
This  was  almost  like  the  famous  consul,  who, 
being  sent  by  the  Koman  senate  to  Antiochus, 


made  a  circle  round  that  prince,  and  said  to 
him,  '  either  you  shall  accept  the  conditions 
of  peace  which  I  offer  you,  before  you  go  out 
of  this  circle,  or  in  the  name  of  the  senate  I 
will  declaie  war  against  you.'* 

God  yielded  to  the  desire  of  his  servant ; 
he  informed  him  of  the  dreadful  vicissitudes 
which  Nebuchadnezzar  should  experience  ; 
and  of  the  return  of  the  Jews  into  their  own 
country  :  but  at  the  same  time  he  assured 
him,  that  these  events  were  at  a  considerable 
distance,  that  no  man  could  rejoice  in  them 
except  he  looked  forward  into  futurity,  but 
that  faith  in  the  accomplishment  of  these 
promised  blessings  would  support  believers 
under  that  deluge  of  calamities  which  was 
coming  on  the  church.  '  The  vision  is  yet 
for  an  appointed  time.  At  the  end  it  shall 
speak  and  shall  not  lie  '  If  the  Lord  seem  to 
you  to  defer  the  accomplishment  of  his  pro- 
mises too  long,  wait  for  it  with  all  the  defer- 
ence, which  finite  creatures  owe  to  the  Su- 
preme Intelligence  that  governs  the  world. 
He,  yuu  will  find,  '  will  not  tarry'  beyond  his 
appointed  time.  '  The  soul,  which  is  lifted 
up,'  that  is  to  say,  the  man  who  would  fix  a 
time  for  God  to  crush  tyrants, '  is  not  upright,' 
but  wanders  after  his  own  speculations  :  but 
the  just  shall  live  by  his  faith.' 

This  is  what  I  call  the  moral  sense  of  the 
text,  relative  to  the  peculi-ir  circumstances 
of  the  Jews  in  the  time  of  the  prophet,  and 
in  this  sense  St  Paul  applies  my  text  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  Hebrews,  who  were 
called  to  endure  many  afflictions  in  this  life, 
and  to  defer  the  enjoyment  of  their  reward 
till  the  next.  '  Ye  have  need  of  patience 
(says  the  apostle,)  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.  Now  the  just 
shall  live  by  faith,'  Heb.  x.  36 — 38. 

But  these   words  also  have  a  theological 


*  M.  Popilius  Lxna   a  Antiocbus  Epiphancs  dans 
Vellei  I'acro.    liisU  Rom.  1.  i. 


316 


THE  LIFE  OF  FAITH. 


[Ser.  XXXV. 


meaning,  wliich  regards  those  great  objects 
on  which  believers  have  fixed  their  eyes  in 
all  ^ges  of  the  ciiurch.  This  is  the  sense 
which  St.  Paul  gives  the  words  in  his  Epistle 
to  the  Romans.  '  The  righteousness  of  God 
is  revealed  in  the  gospel  from  faith  to  fiiith  : 
as  it  is  written,  the  just  shall  live  by  faith,' 
chap.  i.  17.  In  the  same  sense  he  uses  the 
passage  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians, 
'  That  no  man  is  justified  by  the  law  in  the 
sight  of  God  is  evident;  for  the  just  shall 
live  by  faith,'  chap.  iii.  11.  In  this  sense  I 
intend  to  consider  the  text  now,  and  to  apply 
all  the  time  allotted  for  this  discourse  to  this 
view  of  it. 

In  order  to  develope  the  subject,  I  will  do 
three  things. 

I.  I  will  explain  the  term.s  of  this  propo- 
sition, '  the  just  shall  live  by  faith.' 

II.  Prove  the  truth  of  it. 

III.  Endeavour  to  remove  the  dilliculties, 
which  may  attend  the  subject  to  some  of  you. 

I.  Let  us  explain  the  terms  of  this  propo- 
sition, '  the  just  shall  live  by  his  faith.'  In 
order  to  understand  the  subject  we  must  in- 
quire who  is  the  just,  what  is  the  life,  and 
what  the  faith,  of  which  the  prophet,  or 
rather  St.  Paul  after  the  prophet,  speaks. 

Who  is  this  just,  or  righteous  man  ?  To 
form  a  clear  notion  of  this,  it  is  necessary 
with  St.  Paul,  to  distinguish  two  sorts  of 
righteousness,  a  righteousness  according  to 
the  law,  and  a  righteousness  according  to 
faith. 

By  righteousness  after  the  law,  I  under- 
stand that  which  man  wishes  to  derive  from 
his  own  personal  abilit}'.  By  the  righteous- 
ness of  faith,  I  understand  that  wliich  man 
derives  from  a  principle  foreign  from  him- 
self. A  man  who  is  just,  or  to  speak  more 
precisely,  a  man  who  j>retends  to  be  just  ac- 
cording to  this  first  righteousness,  consents 
to  be  examined  and  judged  according  to  the 
utmost  rigour  of  the  law.  He  desires  the 
justice  of  God  to  discover  any  thing  in  him 
that  deserves  punishment ;  and  he  has  the 
audacity  to  put  himself  on  such  a  trial  as 
justice  pronounces  in  these  words  of  tlie  law, 
'  If  a  man  do  these  things,  he  shall  live  in 
them,'  Lev.  xviii.  5.  Ho,  on  the  contrary, 
who  is  just  according  to  the  righteousness  of 
faith,  acknowledges  himself  guilty  of  many 
and  great  sins,  which  deserve  the  most  rigo- 
rous punishment :  but  he  does  not  give  him- 
self up  to  that  despair,  into  which  the  idea 
of  liis  criminality  would  naturally  hurry  him  ; 
he  is  not  afraid  of  those  punishments,  which, 
he  owns,  he  deserves  ;  he  hopes  to  live,  be- 
cause he  expects  God  will  deal  with  him, 
not  according  to  what  he  is  in  himself,  but  ac- 
cording to  his  relation  to  Jesus  Christ. 

That  these  are  the  ideas  which  must  be  af- 
fixed to  the  term,  just,  is  evident  from  these 
words  of  St.  Paul ;  '  I  count  all  things  but 
loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
Christ  Jesus  my  Lord  ;  for  whom  I  have  suf- 
fered the  loss  of  all  things,  and  do  count 
them  but  dung,  that  I  may  win  Christ  and 
be  found  in  him ;'  remark  these  words, 
'  not  having  mine  own  righteousness,  which 
is  of  the  law,  but  that  which  is  through 
the  faith  of  Christ,  the  righteousness,  which 
IS  of  God  by  faithj'  Phil.  iii.  8,  t*.     This  pas- 


sage sufficiently  shows  the  sense  in  which 
the  term  just  is  to  be  taken,  and  this  term 
needs  no  farther  elucidation. 

The  second  also  is  easily  explained.  Tho 
just  shall  lire,  that  is  to  say,  although  divine 
justice  had  condemned  him  to  eternal  death, 
yet  he  shall  be  freed  from  it ;  and  although 
he  had  rendered  himself  unworthy  of  eter- 
nal felicity,  yet  he  shall  enjoy  it.  This  is  so 
plain,  that  it  is  needless  to  enlarge  on  this 
term.  We  intend  to  insist  most  on  that 
term  which  is  the  most  difficult,  the  third 
term,  faith,  I  mean,  'The  just  shall  live  by 
his  faitli,' 

To  have  faith,  or  to  believe,  is  an  expres- 
sion so  vague  in  itself,  and  taken  in  so  many 
different  senses  in  Scripture,  that  we  cannot 
take  too  much  care  in  determining  its  precise 
meaning.  Faith  is  sometimes  a  disposition 
common  to  the  righteous  and  the  wicked ; 
sometimes  it  is  the  distinguished  character  of 
a  Christian,  and  of  Christianity  ;  sometimes 
it  is  put  for  the  virtue  of  Abraham,  who  was 
ciilled  the  '  father  of  the  faithful,'  Rom.  iv. 
11,  by  excellence  ;  and  sometimes  it  stands 
for  the  credence  of  devils,  and  the  terrors 
that  agitate  them  in  hell  are  ascribed  to  it. 

The  variety  of  this  signification  arises  from 
this  consideration ;  faith  is  a  disposition  of 
mind,  that  changes  its  nature  according  to 
the  various  objects  which  are  proposed  to  it. 
If  the  object  presented  to  faith  be  a  particular 
object,  faith  is  a  particular  disposition ;  and 
if  the  object  be  general,  faith  is  a  general 
virtue.  If  we  believe  a  past  event,  we  are 
said  to  have  faith,  for  '  through  faith  we  un- 
derstand that  the  worlds  were  framed  by  the 
word  of  God,'  Heb.  xi.  3.  If  we  believe  a 
future  event,  we  are  said  to  have  faith,  for 
'  faith  is  tiie  substance  of  things  hoped  for, 
the  evidence  of  things  not  seen,'  ver.  1. 
When  the  v/oman  of  Canaan  believed  that 
Jesus  Christ  would  grant  her  petition,  she 
was  said  to  have  faith,  '  O  woman,  great  is 
thj'  faith,'  Watt.  xv.  28.  In  a  similar  case, 
our  Lord  says,  '  I  have  not  found  so  great 
faith,  no  not  in  Israel,'  chap.  viii.  10.  When 
the  disciples  believed,  that  they  should  work 
miracles  in  virtue  of  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ, 
it  was  called  a  having  of  faith,  '  If  ye  have 
faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  ye  shall  say 
unto  this  mountain,  remove  hence  to  yonder 
place,  and  it  shall  obey  you,'  chap.  xvii.  20. 
In  a  word,  every  act  of  the  mind  acquiescing 
in  a  revealed  truth  is  called  faith  in  the  style 
of  Scripture. 

But,  among  these  different  notions,  there 
is  one  which  is  particular,  there  is  a 
faith  to  which  Scripture  ascribes  extraor- 
dinary praise.  Sa\ing  faith,  the  faith  that 
Jesus  Christ  requires  of  all  Christians,  and 
of  which  it  is  said,  '  through  faith  are  ye 
saved,'  Eph.  ii.  8  ;  and  elsewhere, '  whosoever 
bclieveth  shall  have  everlasting  life,' John  iii. 
16,  this  is  the  faith  of  which  the  text  speaks, 
and  of  the  nature  of  which  we  are  now  in- 
quiring. To  comprehend  this,  we  must  trace 
the  question  to  its  principle,  and  examine 
what  is  the  object  of  this  faith. 

The  Great  and  principal  object,  which  is 
presented  to  the  faith  that  justifies,  without 
doubt  is  Jesus  Christ  as  dying  and  offering 
himself  to  the  justice  of  his  Father.     On  this 


Ser.  XXXV.] 


THE  LIFE  OF  FAITH. 


317 


account  St.  Paul  says  to  the  Corinthians,  '  I 
determined  not  to  know  any  thing  among 
you,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified,'  1 
Epist.  ii.  2.  Faith  contemplates  the  objects 
that  are  displayed  in  tlie  cross  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  persuades  the  Christian,  that  there  is  no 
other  way  of  obtaining  salvation,  or,  to  use 
the  language  of  Scripture,  that '  there  is  none 
other  name  under  heaven  given  among  men 
whereby  we  must  be  saved,'  Acts  iv.  12.  It 
inspires  him  with  a  sincere  desire  of  lodging 
under  the  sliadow  of  his  cross,  or,  to  speak  in 
plain  Scripture  language  without  a  figure,  of 
being  '  found  in  him,  not  having  his  own 
righteousness,  which  is  of  the  law  :  but  that, 
which  is  through  the  faith  of  Christ.'  This 
is  a  general  vague  account  of  the  nature  of 
faith. 

But  as  this  notion  of  faith  is  vague,  it 
is  subject  to  all  the  inconveniences  of  vague 
ideas  ;  it  is  equivocal  and  open  to  illusion. 
We  are  not  saved  by  wishing  to  be  saved  ; 
nor  are  we  justified  because  we  barely  desire 
to  be  justified. 

We  must,  tlierefore,  distinguish  two  sorts 
of  desires  to  share  the  benefits  of  the  death  of 
Christ.  There  is  a  desire  unconnected  with 
all  the  acts,  which  God  has  been  pleased  to 
require  of  us,  of  this  we  are  not  speaking. 
There  is  also  another  kind  of  desire  to  share 
the  benefits  of  the  death  of  Christ,  a  desire 
that  animates  us  with  a  determination  to 
participate  these  benefits,  whatever  God  inay 
require,  and  whatever  sacrifices  we  may  be 
obliged  to  make  to  possess  them.  This  desire, 
we  think,  constitutes  the  essence  of  faith. 

The  true  believer  inqjires  with  the  strict- 
est scrutiny  what  God  requires  of  him,  and 
he  finds  three  principal  articles.  Jesus  Christ, 
he  perceives,  is  proposed  (if  you  allow  me  to 
speak  thus)  to  his  mind,  to  his  heart,  and  to 
his  conduct.  Faith  receives  Jesas  Christ  in 
all  these  respects  ;  in  regard  to  the  mind,  to 
regulate  its  ideas  by  the  decisions  of  Jesus 
Christ  alone  ;  in  regard  to  tiie  heart,  to  em- 
brace that  felicity  only,  which  Jesus  Christ 
proposes  to  its  hope ;  in  regard  to  the  con- 
duct, to  make  the  laws  of  Jesus  Christ  the 
only  rules  of  action.  Faith,  then,  is  that  dis- 
position of  soul,  which  receives  Jesus  Christ 
wholly,  as  a  teacher,  a  promihor,  a  legislator. 
Faith  will  enable  us  to  adniit  the  most  in- 
comprehensible truths,  the  mo^t  abstruse  doc- 
trines, the  most  profound  mysteries,  if  Jesus 
Christ  reveal  them.  Faith  will  engage  us  to 
wish  for  tiiat  kind  of  felicity  which  is  the  most 
opposite  to  the  desires  of  flesh  and  blood,  if 
Jesus  Christ  promise  it.  Faith  will  inspire 
UB  with  resolution  to  break  tlie  strongest 
ties,  to  mortify  the  most  eager  desires,  if 
Jesus  Christ  commanded  us  to  do  so.  This,  in 
our  opinion,  is  the  only  true  notion  of  saving 
faitii. 

The  terms  of  the  proposition  being  thus 
explained,  we  will  go  on  to  explain  the  whole 
proposition,  '  the  just  shall  live  by  liis  faith.' 
All  depends  on  one  distinction,  which  we  shall 
do  well  to  understand,  and  retain.  There  are 
two  kinds,  or  causes  of  justification.  The 
first  is  the  fundament;)!  or  meritorious  cause  ; 
the  second  is  the  instrumental  cause.  We 
call  that  the  fundamental  cause  of  our  justi- 
fication, which  requires,  merits,  and  lays  the 

2  S 


foundation  of  our  justification  and  salvation. 
By  the  instrumental  cause,  we  mean  those  acts 
which  it  has  pleased  God  to  prescribe  to  us, 
in  order  to  our  participation  of  this  acquired 
salvation,  and  without  which '  Christ  becomes 
of  no  effect  to  us,'  accordin<r  to  the  language 
of  Scripture,  Gal.  v.  4.  The  fundamental 
cause  of  our  justification  is  Jesus  Christ,  and 
Jesus  Clirist  alone.  It  is  Jesus  Christ  inde- 
pendentl}'  of  our  faith  and  love.  If  Jesus 
Christ  had  not  died,  our  faith,  our  repentance, 
and  all  our  efforts  to  be  saved,  would  have 
been  in  vain,  '  for  other  foundation  can  no 
man  lay  than  that  which  is  laid,  which  is 
Jesus  Christ,'  1  Cor.  iii.  11.  '  There  is  none 
other  name  under  heaven  given  among  men, 
whereby  we  must  be  saved,'  Acts  iv.  14. 
Verily,  if  any  thing  could  conciliate  God  to 
men,  ye  excruciating  agonies  of  my  Saviour  ! 
thou  perfect  satisfaction !  thou  bloody  death ! 
sacrifice  proposed  to  man  immediately  after 
his  lall !  ye  only,  only  ye,  could  produce  this 
great  effect !  Accursed,  accursed  be  he  who 
preaches  another  gospel !  '  God  forbid  that  I 
should  glory  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  the  world  is  crucified 
unto  me,  and  I  unto  the  world,'  Gal.  vi.  14. 

But  when  we  inquire  how  we  are  justified, 
we  do  not  inquire  the  meritorious  cause  of 
salvation  ;  we  suppose  salvation  already  me- 
rited ;  but  we  ask,  what  is  essential  to  our 
participation  of  it  ?  To  this  we  reply,  faith, 
faith  alone,  but  such  a  faith  however,  as  we 
have  described,  a  living  faith,  faith  as  a  prin- 
ciple of  renovation ;  faith,  which  receiver 
the  decisions  of  Jesus  Christ,  embraces  his 
promises,  and  enables  us  to  devote  ourselves 
to  his  service.  This  is  the  sense  in  which 
we  understand  the  proposition  in  the  text, 
'  the  just  shall  live  by  his  faith.'  It  is  not  suf- 
ficient to  explain  the  propositions,  we  must 
prove,  and  establish  it  against  erroneous  di- 
vines, and  loose  casuists.  This  is  our  second 
article. 

II.  We  oppose  our  system,  first  against  that 
of  some  erroneous  divines.  We  have  a  con- 
troversy on  this  subject,  not  only  with  those 
enemies  of  our  mysteries,  who  consider  Jesus 
Christ  only  as  a  legislator,  distinguished 
from  other  m.oralists  only  by  the  clearness  of 
his  moral  principles,  and  the  power  of  his 
motives :  but  we  have  also  a  famous  dispute 
with  the  divines  of  the  church  of  Rome  on 
this  head,  and  we  attack  that  part  of  their 
doctrine  which  we  call  the  merit  of  good 
works. 

In  order  to  understand  this  controversy 
clearly,  we  must  observe,  that  the  members 
of  the  church  of  Rome  are  divided  into  two 
classes ,on  this  article.  In  the  first  class  we 
place  those  divines,  who  without  any  restric- 
tions or  qualifications,  maintain  this  unwar- 
rantable thesis,  good  works  merit  heaven,  as 
bad  ones  deserve  hell.  The  second  affirm, 
that  good  works  do,  indeed  merit  heaven : 
but  in  virtue  of  the  mercy  of  God,  and  of 
the  new  covenant,  that  he  has  made  with 
mankind.  When  we  dispute  against  the 
errors  of  the  church  of  Rome  "we  should 
carefully  distinguish  these  opinions.  It  must 
be  granted,  protestnnts  have  not  always  done 
so.  We  speak  as  if  the  church  of  Rome  as  a 
body  held  thie  thesis,  good  works  merit  hea,-- 


318 


THE  LIFE  OF  FAITH. 


[Ser.  XXXV 


ven,  as  bad  ones  deserve  hell  ;  whereas  this 
is  an  opinion  peculiar  to  only  some  of  their 
divines  :  it  has  been  censured  and  condoin- 
iied  by  a  bull  of  Pius  V.  and  Gret^ory  XHI. 
as  one  of  our  most  celebrated  divines  has 
proved,  ■whom,  although  his  pious  design  of 
conciliating'  our  disputes  ni ay  have  made  him 
rather  exceed  his  evidence  i.i  t;ome  of  liis  af- 
firmations, we  cannot  contradii.t  on  this  ai ti- 
de, because  he  proves  it  by  i^icontestablc 
evidence.^  liut  the  second  opinion  is  profess- 
edly that  of  the  whole  cluircli  of  Rome. 
This  canon,  which  I  am  going  tn  rfpert  to 
you,  is  the  decision  of  tb.o  council  of  Trefi: 
'Eternal  life  is  to  be  proposot!  :,o  the  children  ol 
God  both  as  a  gift  mercifully  offfired  to  them 
through  Jesus  Christ,  and  as  a  promised  re- 
ward equitably  rendered  to  thsir  merits  and 
good  works  in  virtue  of  this  promise. M 

We  oppose  our  system  against  lioth  these 
opinions.  To  say,  with  the  first  f>f  these  di- 
vines, that  good  works  merit  heaven,  as  bad 
works  deserve  hell,  is  to  affirm  a  proposition, 
which  Rome  itself  denies.  What !  works 
that  bear  no  proportion  to  objects  of  our  hope, 
a  few  meditations,  a  few  prayers,  a  few  p.lms- 
deeds !  What !  wnuld  the  sacrifice  of  our 
whole  selves  merit  that  '  eternal  weight  of 
glory,'  which  is  to  be  revealed  in  us  .'  Wliat ! 
can  works,  that  are  not  performed  by  our 
power,  works,  that  proceed  froni  grace, 
works,  which  owe  their  design  ^.nd  execution 
to  God,  who  '  worketh  to  will,  and  to  do,'  as 
St.  Paul  expresses  it,  Phil.  ii.  13,  can  these 
attain,  do  these  deserve  a  '  weight  of  glory' 
for  us .'  Does  not  the  whole  that  we  possess 
come  from  God  .•■  Il' we  know  the  doctrines  of 
revelation,  is  it  not  because  '  the  Father  of 
glory  hath  enlightened  the  eyes  of  our  under- 
standing .'"  Eph.  i.  17,18.  If  we  believe  his 
decisions,  is  it  not  because  he  gave  u.s  faith  ? 
If  we  suffer  for  his  gospel,  is  it  not  because 
he  gives  us  strength  to  sufl'er  ?'  Phil.  i.  29. 
What !  works,  that  are  of  themselves  insepa- 
rably connected  with  our  stations,  and  there- 
fore duties,  indispensable  engagements,  debts 
and  debts,  alas !  which  \vc  discharge  so 
badly,  can  these  merit  a  rev.'arri?  God  for- 
bid we  should  entertain  such  an  opinion ' 
Even  Cardinal  Bellarmine,  after  he  had  en- 
deavoured more  than  any  other  writer  to  es- 
tablish the  merit  of  good  works,  with  one 
stroke  of  his  pen  effaced  all  his  arguments, 
for,  said  he,  on  account  of  the  prccariousncss 
of  our  own  righteousness,  and  the  danger  of 
vainglory,  the  safest  jnethod  is  to  have  re- 
course to  the  mercy  of  God,  and  to  trust  in 
his  mercy  alone. t 

But  we  oppose  also  the  other  opinion,  that 
we  have  mentioned.  For.  although  it  may 
seem  to  be  purified  from  that  venom,  which 
wo  have  remarked  in  the  first,  yet  it  is  attend- 
ed with  two  inconveniences. 

1 .  It  is  contradictory  in  terms.  A  work, 
that  derives  its  value  from  the  mercy  of  God 
is  called  meritorious.     What  an  association  of 


*  See  the  Theses  of  M.  Louig  Le  Bhiiic. 

t  Proponcnda  est  vita  eterna,  ct  tanqiKiin  O'latiip 
fiUis  dei  per  Cliri.stuin  Jusum,ini3ericonliter  piomi.ssa 
«:t  taiKjuam  mercies  c.v  ipsiiis  Dei  i)romissione, 
bonis  ipsorum  opmibus  ct  meritisfideliter  reddendar. 
Concil.  Trid.  .Scss.  vi.  c.  16. 

}  Card.  Cell.  Coiitiovei.-:.  T.  iv.  Do  Justificalione 
Lib.  1. 


ti?rins  !  Merit,  mercy.  Ifitbe  of  mere}',  how 
is  it  meritorious  ?  If  it  be  meritorious,  how  is 
it  of  mercy  r  '  If  by  grace,  then  is  it  no  more 
of  work.s  :  but  if  it.  be  of  works  then  is  it  no 
more  gr^ce,'  Rom.  xi.  C.  You  know  the  lan- 
guage of  St.  Paul. 

2.  This  opinion  furnishes  a  pretext  to  hu- 
man pride,  and  whether  this  be  not  suflicient- 
ly  evident,  let  experience  judf.'-e.  Do  we 
not  often  see  people,  who  not  being  capable 
of  entering  into  these  tlieological  distinctions, 
which  ?re  contained  m  the  writings  of  their 
teachers,  think  by  their  good  works,  and  of 
ten  by  their  superstitions,  so  to  merit  eternal 
felicity,  that  God  cannot  deprive  them  of  it 
wi''' 'tut  subverting  the  laws  of  justice  .'  Has 
not  ;lie  church  of  Rome  other  doctrine?^ 
which  lead  to  this  error  .'  Is  not  supereroga 
tion  of  till-,  kind.'  According  to  tiiis  a  man 
may  not  only  fully  perform  all  his  engage- 
ments, but  he  ".ii'iy  even  exceed  them.  Is 
not  the  doctrine,  that  excludes  merit,  consi- 
dered by  many  of  the  Roman  community  as  a 
mark  of  heresy.-'  If  we  believe  an  anecdote 
in  the  life  of  Charles  V.  it  was  principally 
for  having  written  on  the  walls  of  his  room 
several  passages  cf  Scripture  excluding  the 
merit  of  works,  that  he  was  suspected  of  ad- 
hering to  our  doctrines,  and  that  the  inquisi- 
tion deliberated  on  punishing  hi.n  after  his 
death  as  a  heretic.  The  inquisitors  would 
certainly  have  proceeded  against  him,  had 
not  Philip  II.  been  given  to  understand  that 
the  son  of  a  heretic  was  incapable  of  succeed- 
ing to  the  crown  of  Spain.* 

Against  this  system  we  oppose  that  which 
we  have  established.  We  consider  Jesus 
Christ,  Jesus  Christ  alone,  as  the  meritori- 
ous cause  of  our  justification.  If  lith  justi- 
fies us,  it  is  as  an  instrument,  that  of  itself 
can  merit  nothing,  and  which  contributes  to 
our  justification  oriy  as  it  capacitates  us  for 
participating  the  betiefits  of  the  death  of 
Christ.  Theso  were  the  ideas  of  the  ancient 
church.  The  divines  of  primitive  times 
taught  that  men  were  righteous,  Vvho  ac- 
knovledgcd  their  guilt,  and  that  they  had 
rvjtiiing  of  thpir  own  but  sin,  and  who,  al- 
though they  were  saints,  yet  attributed  no- 
thing to  their  own  merit.  On  those  prin- 
ciples, we  find,  in  an  ancient  work  attribut- 
e:l  to  Anselm,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
the  sick  were  comforted  in  this  manner. 
'  Dost  thou  trust  in  the  merit  of  Jesus  Christ 
alone  for  salvation  ?'  The  sick  person  repli- 
ed, /  (Jo.  The  assistant  then  added,  '  Praise 
God  to  the  last  moment  of  your  life  ;  place 
all  your  confidence  in  him ;  and,  when 
the  Supreme  Judge  of  the  world  calls  you 
to  his  tribunal,  say  to  him.  Lord !  I  inter- 
pose between  tljy  righteous  judgment  and 
myself  the  death  of  thy  Son,  and  I  ascribe  no 
merit  to  any  good  work  of  my  own.' 

Thus  we  oppose  the  merit  of  -.vorks.  But 
it  is  dangerous  for  those,  who  preach  to  peo- 
ple prone  to  one  extreme,  to  express  tliem- 
selves  so  as  to  seem  to  favour  the  opposite 
extreme.  Altliough  all  our  divines  unani- 
mously connect  faith  and  holiness  together, 
yet  there  is  great  reason  to  fear,  our  people 
carry  their  aversion  against  the  doctrine  of 
met  it   so    far  that   they    lose   sight  of    thi.»! 


L'Abbe  do  S.  fJcal,  Hir?toire  de  Don  Carlos 


Ser.  XXXV.] 


THE  LIFE  OF  PAITII. 


319 


union  of  faith  and  obedience.  A  man,  whose 
great  labours  in  tiie  church  prevent  our  men- 
tioning his  name,  while  we  reprove  his  error, 
has  affirmed  these  prepositions — the  gospel 
consists  of  promises  only — Jesus  Christ  gave 
no  precepts — we  are  under  no  other  obliga- 
tions than  those  of  gratitude  to  obey  the  laws 
of  religion — om:  souls  are  in  no  danger  if  we 
neglect  them. 

Against  these  ideas  we  again  oppose  our 
S3'stem  of  justification.  We  affirm,  that  jus- 
tifying faith  is  a  general  principle  of  virtue 
and  holincFs ;  and  that  such  a  recourse  to 
the  mercy  of  God,  as  wicked  Christians  im- 
agine, does  not  justify  in  any  sense.  It 
does  not  justify  as  the  meritorious  cause  of 
our  salvation ;  for  to  affirm  this  is  to 
maintain  a  heiesy.  We  have  said  Jesus 
Christ,  Jesus  Christ  alone,  is  the  foundation 
of  our  sslvation,  and  our  most  ardent  desire 
to  participate  the  benefits  of  it  is  incapable 
of  deserving  them.  It  does  not  justify  as  a 
condition.  To  aflirm,  that  to  have  recourse 
to  the  grace  of  Jesus  Christ  is  the  only  con- 
dition that  the  gospel  requires,  is  to  muti- 
late the  gospel,  apparently  to  widen  beyond 
all  Scriptural  bounds  the  way  to  heaven,  and 
really  to  open  a  large  and  spacious  road  to 
eternal  perdition. 

If  there  be  one  in  this  assembly  so  unac- 
quainted with  Christianity  as  to  suppose  that 
he  may  be  justified  before  God  by  a  fruitless 
desire  of  being  saved,  and  by  a  barren  re- 
course to  the  deatii  of  Christ,  let  him  attend 
to  the  follov/ing  reflections. 

1.  Justifying  faith  is  lively  faith,  a  be- 
liever cannot  live  by  a  dead  faith :  but 
'  faith  without  works  is  dead,'  James  ii.  20. 
Consequently  the  faith  that  gives  life  is  a 
faith  containing,  at  least  in  principle,  all  vir- 
tues. 

2.  Justifying  faith  must  assort  with  the 
genius  of  the  covenant  to  which  it  belongs. 
Had  the  gospel  no  other  design  than  that  of 
pardoning  our  sins,  without  subduing  them, 
faith  might  then  consist  in  a  bare  act  of  the 
mind  accepting  this  part  of  the  gospel :  but 
if  the  gospel  proposes  both  to  pardon  sin, 
and  to  enable  us  to  renounce  it,  faith,  which 
has  to  do  with  this  covenant  of  grace,  must 
needs  involve  both  these  articles.  Now, 
v.ho  will  pretend  to  say,  the  gospel  has  not 
botii  these  blessings  in  view  .''  And  conse- 
<iuent]y,  who  can  deny,  that  faith  consists 
both  in  trusting  the  grace,  and  in  obeying  all 
the  laws  of  the  gospel.'' 

3.  Justifying  faith  must  include  all  the 
virtues,  to  wliicii  the  Scripture  attributes  jus- 
tification and  salvation.  Now,  if  you  con- 
sult the  oracles  of  God,  you  will  perceive 
Scripture  speaks  a  language  that  will  not 
comport  with  the  doctrine  of  fruitless  faith. 
Sometimes  salvation  is  attributed  to  love, 
'  Come  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the 
kingdom,  for  I  was  an  hungred,  and  ye  gave 
inc  meat,'  Matt.  xxv.  34.  Sometimes  it  is 
attributed  to  hope, '  Hope  maketh  not  asham- 
ed,'Rom.  v.  5.  Sometimes  to  fait  It,  'Whoso- 
ever believeth  in  him  shall  iiave  eternal  life,' 
John  iii.  15.  I  ask  now,  to  which  virtue, 
strictly  speaking,  does  salvation  belong  .'  to 
love,  to  hope,  or  to  faith.-'  Or  rather,  is  it 
not  clear,  that,  when  Scripture  attributes  sal- 


vation to  one  of  these  virtues,  it  does  not 
consider  it  separately,  as  subsisting  in  a  dis- 
tinct subject,  but  it  considers  it  as  flowing 
from  that  general  priiiciple,  which  acquiesces 
in  the  whole  gospel. 

4.  Justifying  faith  must  merit  all  the 
praises  which  are  given  to  it  in  Scripture. 
What  encomiums  are  bestowed  on  faith !  It 
unites  us  to  Jesus  Christ.  It  crucifies  us  as 
it  were, '  with  him,  it  raiseth  us  up  together,' 
and  makes  us  '  sit  together  with  him  in  hea- 
venly places,'  in  a  word,  it  makes  us  '  one 
with  him  as  he  is  one  with  the  Father,'  Gal. 
ii.  20 ;  Eph.  ii.  G,  and  John  xvii.  20.  But 
the  bare  desire  of  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ 
devoid  of  obedience  to  him,  is  this  to  be  cru- 
cified with  Jesus  Christ  ?  Is  this  to  be  risen 
v/ith  him  .'  Is  this  to  sit  in  heavenly  places 
wiui  him.' 

,";.  Justifying  faith  must  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  the  mystery,  that  acquires  justifica- 
tion for  us;  I  mean  the  mystery  of  the  sa- 
tisfaction of  Jesus  Christ.  ■  What  is  the  sys- 
tem of  our  churches  on  the  mystery  of  satis- 
faction .''  Some  divines  among  us  have  ven- 
tured to  affirm,  that  God  v/as  entirely  free 
either  to  exact  the  punishment  due  to  sin, 
or  to  release  mankind  from  all  obligation 
to  suffer  it.  He  required  a  satisfaction,  say 
they,  because  of  its  greater  fitness  to  ex- 
press to  the  whole  universe  his  just  abhor- 
rence of  sin. 

But  the  generally  received  doctrine  among 
us,  is,  that  although  God  was  entirely  free 
when  he  punished  sin,  yet  he  was  necessari- 
ly inclined  to  do  it  by  the  perfection  of  his 
nature  ;  and  that  as,  being  a  uniform  Spirit, 
it  was  '  impossible  for  liim  to  lie,'  Heb.  vi. 
18,  and  contradict  himself,  so,  being  a  just 
and  holy  Spirit,  it  was  impossible  for  him  to 
pardon  sinners  without  punislung  sin  on  some 
victim  substituted  in  their  stead. 

We  will  not  now  compare  these  systems, 
nor  allege  the  motives  of  our  embracing  one 
in  preference  to  the  other  ;  but  this  we  affirm, 
choose  which  you  will,  eitiicr  affords  a  de- 
monstration in  favour  of  our  thesis. 

In  regard  to  the  first,  it  may  be  justly  snid, 
What !  has  God,  think  ye,  so  much  love  for 
holiness,  and  so  much  hatred  of  sin,  that  al- 
though he  was  not  inclined  to  exact -a  satis- 
faction by  necessity  of  nature,  yet  he  chose 
rather  to  do  so  than  to  let  sin  pass  unpunish- 
ed .''  Has  God,  think  you,  sacrificed  his  Son, 
on  account  of  the  fitness  of  iiis  sufferings,  to 
remove  every  shadow  of  tolerating  sin  !  Do 
you  believe  this,  and  can  you  imagine,  that 
a  God,  to  whom  sin  is  so  extremely  odious, 
can  approve  of  a  faith  that  is  compatible  with 
sin,  and  which  never  gives  vice  its  death- 
wound. 

The  demonstration  is  equally  clear  in  re- 
gard to  those  who  embrace  the  general  sys- 
tem of  our  churches.  How  can  a  man  per 
suade  hin)self,  that  tlic  love  of  order  is  so  es- 
sential to  God,  that  he  cannot  without  con- 
tradicting himself  pardon  the  sinner,  and  not 
punish  the  sin  ;  how,  I  say,  can  such  a  man 
persuade  himself  tiiat  such  a  faith  as  we 
have  exploded  can  enable  us  to  partici- 
pate the  pardoning  benefits  of  the  deatli  of 
Christ .' 

Is  it  not  evident,  that  these  two  supposi- 


320 


[THE  LIFE  OF  FAITU. 


[SF.n.  XXXV. 


tions  make  a  God  contradictory  to  himself, 
and  ropreeent  his  attributes  as  clashing  with 
each  other?  In  the  first  bupposition,  a  God 
is  conceived,  to  whom  sin  is  infinitely  odi- 
ous ;  in  the  second  a  God  is  imagined,  to 
whom  sin  is  perfectly  tolerable.  In  the  first 
a  God  is  conceived,  who  naturally  and  ne- 
cessarily requires  a  satisfaction ;  in  the  se- 
cond a  God  is  imagined,  who  by  a  pliable  fa- 
cility of  nature  esteems  a  sinner  although  he 
derives  from  the  satisfaction  no  motives  to 
renounce  his  sin.  In  the  first,  God  is  con- 
ceived as  placing  the  strongest  barriers  against 
sin,  and  as  sacrificing  the  noblest  victim  to 
express  his  insuperable  aversion  to  vice  ;  in 
the  second,  God  is  imagined  as  removing  all 
obstacles  to  sin,  and  protecting  men  in  the 
practice  of  it,  nothing  contributing  more  to 
confirm  wicked  men  in  sin  than  the  vain 
opinion,  that,  carry  vice  to  what  pitch  they 
will,  they  may  be  reconciled  to  God  by  the 
mediation  of  Jesus  Christ,  whenever  they 
wish  for  the  benefits  of  his  sacrifice. 

To  all  these  considerations,  add  one  more 
on  the  unanimous  opinion  of  all  your  minis- 
ters. In  vain  do  you  attempt  to  seek  pre- 
texts for  sin  in  those  scholastic  disputes,  and 
in  those  different  methods  which  divines 
have  struck  out  in  establishing  the  doctrines 
of  faith,  and  justification.  Your  divines,  I 
grant,  have  used  expressions  capable  of  very 
different  meanings,  on  these  articles.  They 
are  men,  their  geniuses,  like  those  of  the  rest 
of  mankind  are  finite,  and  they  have  discover- 
ed in  the  far  greater  part  of  all  their  systems 
the  narrow  limits  of  their  minds.  Intelligences, 
confined  like  ours,  arc  necessarily  stricken 
with  a  first  truth  more  than  with  another 
truth,  no  less  important  and  clear  than  the 
first.  Every  science,  every  course  of  study, 
afford  proofs  of  the  truth  of  this  remark ;  but 
the  present  subject  of  our  inquiry  abounds  with 
evidence  of  this  sort.  Some  have  been  more 
struck  with  the  necessity  of  believing  the 
truths  of  speculation,  than  with  that  of  pt  r- 
forming  tlie  duties  whicii  belong  to  these 
truths.  Others  have  been  move  affected  with 
the  necessity  of  performing  the  duties  of  re- 
ligion, than  with  that  of  adhering-  to  the  spe- 
culative truths  of  it.  Some,  having  lived 
among  people  believing  the  merit  of  works, 
have  turned  all  their  attention  against  the 
doctrine  of  merit,  and  have  expressed  them- 
eolves  perhaps  without  design,  in  a  manner, 
that  seemed  to  enervate  the  necessity  of  good 
works.  Others  on  the  contrary  having  lived 
among  libertines,  who  did  not  believe,  or  who 
affected  not  to  believe  the  necessity  of  good 
works,  have  turned  all  the  point  of  their  ge- 
nius against  this  pernicious  doctrine,  and  in 
their  turn  have  expressed  themselves,  per- 
haps without  design,  in  a  manner  that  seem- 
ed to  favour  the  notion  of  merit.  Nothing 
is  so  rare  as  a  genius  comprehending  at 
once  the  whole  ot  any  subject.  As  nothing 
in  the  military  art  is  so  rare  as  that  self-pos- 
session, which  enables  a  general  to  pervade 
a  whole  army,  and  to  be  present,  so  to  speak, 
in  every  part  of  the  field  of  battle  ;  so  in 
the  sciences,  nothing  is  so  uncommon  as  that 
kind  of  comprehensive  attention,  which  ena- 
bles a  man  always  to  think  and  speak  in  per- 
fect harmony  with  himself,  and  so  to  avoid  de- 


stroying one  part  of  his  thesis,  while  ho  es- 
tablishes another  part  of  it.  But,  after  all, 
there  is  no  real  difference  among  your  minis- 
ters on  this  article.  Whatever  method  they 
take,  they  all  agree,  that  no  man  can  be  a  true 
Christian,  who  does  not  receive  Jesus  Christ 
as  his  prophet,  priest,  and  king  ;  that  as  faith 
unites  us  to  Jesus  Christ,  it  is  impossiblo 
for  the  members  of  a  head  so  holy  to  conti- 
nue in  sin.  Now  does  not  all  this  amount  to 
a  demonstration  that  saving  faith  transforms 
the  heart .'' 

Let  us  examine  the  objections  which  are 
made  against  this  doctrine. 

Is  it  pretended,  that  the  design  of  exclud- 
ing holiness  from  the  essence  of  faith  is  to 
elevate  the  merit  of  the  death  of  Christ  ? 
But,  0  rain  man!  Do  not  we  enervate  the 
merit  of  the  death  of  Christ,  we,  who  place 
it  in  our  system  as  the  only  foundation  ;  tho 
alone  cause  of  the  salvation  of  man,  exclud- 
ing works  entirely,  however  holy  they  may 
be .' 

Dost  thou  say,  thy  design  is  to  humble 
man.'  But,  O  rain  wan.'  What  can  be 
more  proper  to  humble  man  than  our  system, 
which  shows  him  that  those  works  are  no- 
thing, which  do  not  proceed  from  the  assist- 
ance of  God  ;  and  that  if  God  condescends 
to  accept  them,  he  does  so  through  mere 
mercy,  and  not  on  account  of  their  merit  ? 

Dost  thou  add,  that  our  system  is  contrary 
to  experience,  and  dost  thou  allege  the  ex- 
amples of  many,  who  have  been  justified  with- 
out performing  one  good  work,  and  by  the 
bare  desire  of  being  saved  by  Jesus  Christ,  as 
the  converted  thief,  and  many  others,  who 
have  turned  to  God  on  a  death-bed.'  But  ';  vain 
man!  What  have  we  been  estiblishing .' 
Have  we  said,  that  a  f>.;i;-.,  which  had  not 
produced  good  Vwor'-. -:  was  not  a  true  faith? 
No,  we  hr/-  0  cm}-  atlirmed,  that  a  true  faith 
must,  nccfi&arily  be  a  principle  of  good  works. 
It  may  happen,  th:;t  a  man  may  have  this 
principle  and  may  not  have  any  opportunity 
of  expressing  it  by  practice,  and  of  bringing 
it  intoaction  ;  he  has  it,  however,  in  intention. 
In  this  sense  we  admit  the  maxims  of  St. 
I  Augustine,  and  if  he  did  not  understand  it  in 
I  our  sense,  it  ought  to  be  understood  so ; 
'  Good  ■works,'  says  he,  '  do  not  accompany 
justification ;  but  they  follow  it.'  The  thief, 
in  one  sense,  strictly  speaking,  did  no  good 
work  :  but  in  another  sense,  he  did  all  good 
works.  We  say  ofhim,  a^  we  say  of  Abraham, 
he  did  all  in  heart,  in  intention.  Abraham, 
from  the  first  momentof  his  vocation,  was  ac- 
counted to  have  abandoned  his  country,  sa- 
crificed his  son  Isaac,  and  wrought  all  those 
heroical  actions  of  CJiristian  faith,  which 
ni'ide  him  a  model  for  the  whole  church.  In 
like  manner,  the  converted  thief  visited  all 
the  sick,  clothed  all  the  naked,  fed  all  tho 
hungry,  comforted  all  the  afflicted,  and  was 
accounted  to  have  done  all  the  pious  actions, 
of  which  faitli  is  the  principle,  because  he 
would  infallibly  have  done  thsm,  had  God  af- 
forded him  opportunity. 

Dost  thou  say,  our  justification  and  salva- 
tion  flow  from    a   decree    made    before    the 
foundation  of  the   world,  and  not  from  our 
embracing  the  gospel  in  time?  But,  0  vaiv 
i  mnn !  Do  we  deny  the  decree  by  showing  the 


Seb.  XXXV.] 


THE  LIFE  OP  FAITH. 


321 


/ 


manner  of  the  accomplishment  of  it .'  Do  we 
destroy  the  end  by  establishing  the  means  ? 
If  your  side  can  prove,  without  injuring  the 
doctrine  of  decrees,  that  man  is  justified  by  a 
bare  desire  of  being  justified,  can  we  injure 
the  same  doctrine  by  asserting,  that  this  de- 
sire must  proceed  from  the  heart,  and  must 
needs  aim  to  please  God,  as  well  as  to  be  re- 
conciled to  him,  and  to  share  his  love  .' 

Dost  thou  still  object,  that,  although  our 
system  is  true  in  the  main,  yet  it  is  always 
dangerous  to  publish  it ;  because  man  has 
always  an  inclination  to  '  sacrifice  unto  his 
own  net,  and  burn  incense  unto  his  own 
drag,'  Hab.  i.  16,  that  by  pressing  the  neces- 
sity of  works,  occasion  is  insensibly  given  to 
the  doctrine  of  merit .'  But,  allow  me  to  ask. 
Is  there  no  danger  in  the  opposite  system .' 
If  ours  seem  to  favour  one  vice,  does  not  the 
opposite  system  favour  all  vices .'  If  outs 
seem  to  favour  pride,  does  not  the  opposite 
system  favour  that,  and  with  that  all  other 
vices,  revenge,  calumny,  adultery,  and  incest.'' 
And,  after  all,  should  the  abuse  of  a  holy 
doctrine,  prevent  the  use  of  it .''  Where,  pray, 
Ere  the  men  among  us,  who  think  to  merit 
heaven  by  their  good  v»rorks .''  For  our  parts, 
w'c  protest,  my  brethren,  that  having  ex- 
amined a  great  number  of  consciences,  we 
find  the  general  inclination  the  other  way  ; 
people  are  in  general  more  inclined  to  a  care- 
less reliance  on  a  kind  of  general  grace  than 
to  an  industrious  purchase  of  happiness  by 
good  works.  What  is  it,  after  all,  that  de- 
coys thousandf  before  our  eyes  into  the  broad 
way  of  destruction  ?  Is  it  an  opinion,  after 
tbey  have  been  very  charitable,  that  they 
merit  by  charity  ?  Is  it  an  opinion,  after  they 
have  been  very  humble,  that  they  merit  by 
humility  ?  Ah  !  my  brethren  !  the  greatest 
part  of  you  have  so  fully  proved  by  your  in- 
disposition to  piety,  that  you  have  no  idea  of 
the  merit  of  good  works,  that  there  is  no 
fear  of  ever  establishing  this  doctrine  among 
you.  But,  to  form  loose  actions  of  obedience, 
to  mutilate  the  covenant  of  grace,  to  render 
salvation  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world,  to 
abound  in  flattering  ourselves  with  hopes  of 
salvation,  although  we  live  without  love, 
without  humility,  without  labouring  to  be 
saved ;  these  are  the  rocks  against  which 
we  split ;  these  are  the  dangers  from  which 
we  would  free  you ;  this  is  the  monster  that 
we  would  never  cease  to  attack,  till  we  have 
given  it  its  death- wound. 

I  would  then  abhor  myself,  deplore  my 
frailty,  blush  at  the  remembrance  of  my  best 
duties,  cast  myself  into  the  arms  of  divine 
mercy,  and  own  all  my  felicity  derivable 
from  grace.  I  would  own,  it  is  grace  that 
elects  ;  grace  which  calls  ;  grace  that  justi- 
fies ;  grace  which  sanctifies  ;  grace  that  ac- 
cepts a  sanctification  always  frail  and  imper- 
fect :  but  at  the  same  time,  I  would  watch 
over  myself,  I  would  arouse  myself  to  duty, 
I  v/ould  '  work  out  my  salvation  with  fear 
and  trembling,'  Phil.  ii.  12,  and,  while  I  ac- 
knowledge grace  does  all,  and  my  works 
merit  nothing,  I  would  act  as  if  I  might  ex- 
pect  every  thing  from  my  own  efibrts. 

V^erlly,  Christians !  these  are  the  two  dis- 
positioiis,  which,  above  all  others,  we  wish 
to  excite  in  your  minds  and  hearts.     These 


are  the  two  conclusions  that  you  ought  to^ 
draw  from  this  discourse ;  a  conclusion  ot 
humility  and  a  conclusion  of  vigilance :  a 
conclusion  of  humility,  for  behold  the  abyss 
into  which  sin  had  plunged  you,  and  see 
the  expense  at  which  you  were  recovered 
from  it.  Man  had  originally  a  clear  judg- 
ment, he  knew  his  Creator,  and  the  obe- 
dience that  was  due  to  him  from  his  crea- 
tures. The  path  of  happiness  was  open  to 
him,  and  he  was  in  full  possession  of  power 
to  walk  in  it.  All  on  a  sudden  he  sins, 
his  privileges  vanish,  his  knowledge  is  be- 
clouded, and  he  is  deprived  of  all  his  free- 
dom. Man,  man,  who  held  the  noblest  do- 
minion in  nature,  falls  into  the  most  abject 
of  all  kinds  of  slavery.  Instantly  the  hea- 
vens '  reveal  his  iniquity,  the  earth  rises  up 
against  him,'  Job  xx.  27,  lightnings  flash  in 
his  eyeSj  thunders  roll  in  his  ears,  and  uni- 
versal nature  announces  his  final  ruin.  In 
order  to  rescue  him  from  it,  it  was  neces- 
sary for  the  mercy  and  justice  of  God  to 
'  shake  heaven  and  earth,'  Heb.  xii.  26. 
God  must  '  take  upon  him  the  iorm  of  a 
servant,'  Phil.  ii.  7,  the  most  excellent  of 
all  intelligent  beings  must  die  in  order  to 
save  him  from  eternal  death. 

This  is  not  all.  Even  since  Jesus  Christ, 
has  said  to  us,  this  is  the  path  to  paradise  ; 
that  is  the  broad  way  to  destruction ;  a 
fatal  charm  still  fascinates  our  eyes,  a  dread- 
ful propensity  to  misery  yet  carries  us 
aw.iy.  Here  again  the  nature  and  fitness 
ci'  tilings  require  the  assistance  of  Heaven. 
Grace,  that  revealed  salvation,  must  dis- 
pose us  to  accept  it,  and  must  save  us,  if 
I  niay  be  allowed  to  speak  so,  in  spite  of 
our  own  unhappy  disposition  to  vice  and 
miserj'.  After  so  many  crimes,  amidst  so 
many  errors,  in  spite  of  so  many  frailties, 
who,  who  dare  lift  up  his  head  ?  Who  can 
presume  to  trust  himself?  Who  can  ima- 
gine himself  the  author  of  his  own  salva- 
tion, and  expect  to  derive  it  from  his  own 
merit.' 
I  Hide,  hide  thyself  in  the  dust,  miserable 
j  man  !  smite  thy  breast,  fix  thine  eyes  on 
i  the  ashes,  from  which  thou  wast  taken. 
Lift  up  thy  voice  in  these  penitential  cries, 
'  If  thou.  Lord  !  shouldst  mark  iniquities : 
O  Lord !  who  shall  stand .''  Ps.  cxxx.  3.  '  O 
Lord  !  righteousness  belongeth  unto  thee  ; 
but  unto  us  confusion  of  face,'  Dan.  9.  7. 
'  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory  save  in 
the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,'  Gal.  vi. 
14.  Lay  thy  pretensions,  thy  virtues,  thy 
merits,  at  the  foot  of  this  cross.  Divest  thy- 
self of  thyself,  and  tear  from  thy  heart,  if 
possible,  the  last  fibre  of  that  pride,  which 
would  obstruct  thy  salvation,  and  ensure 
thy  destruction. 

But,  my  brethren  !  shall  this  be  the  whole 
of  your  religion  .■"  will  you  acknowledge  no 
other  engagement .''  Does  this  short  system, 
think  you,  include  the  whole  of  a  Christian's 
calling  ?  Let  us  add  to  this,  brethren,  watch- 
fulness. As  no  vices  are  so  dangerous  as 
those  which  present  themselves  to  us  under 
the  ideas  of  exalted  virtues,  such  as  hatred 
under  acolour  of  zeal,  pride  undej  an  appear- 
ance of  severity  and  fervour,  so  no  errors 
slide  more  easily  into  our  minds  than  those 


322 


REPENTANCE. 


LSer.  XXXVI. 


which  conceal  themselves  under  the  names  of 
the  great  truths  t "  religion.  To  plead  for 
human  innocence,  to  deny  the  satisfaction  of 
Christ,  to  pretend  to  elevate  our  good  works 
so  high  as  to  make  them  the  price  of  eternal 
felicity,  are  errors  so  gross,  and  so  diametri- 
cally opposite  to  many  express  declarations 
of  Scripture,  that  a  little  love  for  truth,  and 
a  small  study  of  religion,  will  be  sufficient  to 
preserve  us  from  them.  But  under  pretence 
of  venerating  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  cf 
holding  fast  the  doctrine  of  human  depravity, 
with  the  pious  design  of  humbling  man,  un 
der,  I  know  not  what,  veils  of  truth  and 
orthodoxy,  to  widen  the  way  to  heaven,  and 
to  lull  whole  communities  of  Christians  into 
security ;  these  are  the  errors,  that  softly 
and  imperceptibly  ghde  into  our  souls,  as,  alas ! 
were  not  the  nature  of  the  subject  sufficient 
to  persuade  you,  experience,  the  experience 
of  most  of  you  would  easily  convince  you. 

But  you  have  heard  the  maxim  of  St. 
James,  'faith  without  works  is  dead,'  chap, 
ii.  21.  This  maxim  is  a  touchstone  by  which 
you  ought  to  try  yourselves. 

One  of  you  believes  there  is  a  God  :  '  faith 
without  works  is  dead.'  Art  thou  penetrat- 
ed with  veneration  for  his  perfections,  admi- 
ration of  his  works,  deference  to  his  laws, 
fear  of  his  judgments,  gratitude  for  his  boun- 
ties, and  zeal  for  his  glory .' 

Another  believes,  Christ  died  for  his  sins  : 
'  faith  without  works  is  dead.'  Dost  thou 
abhor  thy  sins  for  shedding  his  blood,  for  pre- 
paring his  cross,  for  wounding  his  person, 
for  piercing  his  side,  for  stirring  up  a  war  be- 
tween him  and  divine  justice,  for  makino- 
him  cry  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  '  Now 
is  my  soul  troubled,'  John  xii.  27.  '  My  soul 
ia  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto  death,' 
Matt.  xxvi.  38.  '  My  God  !  my  God  !  why 
hast  thou  forsaken  me.^' 

Thou  believest  there  is  a  future  state  : 
'  faith  without  works  is  dead.'  Dost  thou 
place  thy  heirt  Vvfhere  thy  treasure  is .'  Dost 
thou  anticipate  by  faith  and  hope  the  blessed 
period  of  thine  admission  to  future  felicity  ? 
Pc^t  f hou  'desire  to  depart  and  to  be  with 


Christ.''  Phil.  i.  23.  Is  thy  'soul  athirst 
for  God  .''  Dost  thou  '  pant  after  him,  as  the 
hart  panteth  after  the  water-brooks."  Ps. 
xlii.  1,2. 

Ah  formidable  maxim  !  Ah  dreadful  touch- 
stone !  We  wish  God  had  not  only  fitted  reli- 
gion, so  to  speak,  to  our  frailties  and  infir- 
mities; we  want  him  also  to  accommodate  it 
to  our  inveterate  vices.  We  act  as  if  we 
desired,  that  the  sacrifice,  which  was  once 
offered  to  free  us  from  the  punishment  of  sin, 
and  to  merit  the  pardon  of  it,  had  been  of- 
fered again  to  free  us  from  the  necessity  of 
subduing  it,  and  to  merit  a  right  for  us  to 
commit  it.  What  madness  !  From  the  days 
of  Adam  to  this  moment  conscience  has  been 
the  terror  of  mankind ;  and  this  terror,  ex- 
cited by  an  idea  of  a  future  state,  and  by  the 
approach  of  death,  has  inclined  all  men  to 
seek  a  remedy  against  this  general  and  for- 
midable evil.  Philosophers,  divines,  liber- 
tines, worldly  heroes,  all  have  failed  in  this 
design.  Jesus  Christ  alone  has  succeeded  in 
it.  Only  Jesus  Christ  presents  to  us  this 
true  remedy  so  ardently  desired,  and  so  vain- 
ly sought  ;  and  we  still  refuse  it,  because 
our  vices,  fatal  as  they  have  been  to  us, 
are  still  the  objects  of  our  most  eager  de- 
sires. 

But  do  you  know  what  all  these  objects  ©f 
our  contemplation  suppose .'  Conscience,  if  wo 
listen  to  its  voice,  death  and  futurity,  if  we 
attend  to  them,  the  doctrine,  the  humbling 
doctrine  of  justification,  that  we  have  been 
preaching  to  you,  all  suppose  that  we  are 
criminals,  that  the  v/rath  of  Heaven  is  kin- 
dled against  us,  that  the  eternal  books,  in 
which  our  actions  are  registered,  are  open- 
ing, that  our  Judge  is  seated,  our  trial  com- 
ing on,  our  final  doom  preparing,  and  that 
there  remains  no  refuge  from  all  these  mise- 
ries but  Jesus  Christ,  whose  name  is  an- 
nounced, that  we  may  escape  the  wrath  to 
come,  and  be  saved.  To  him  let  us  flee. 
To  him  let  us  resign  our  minds,  our  hearts, 
and  our  lives.  God  give  us  grace  to  do 
so.  To  him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever, 
Amen. 


SERMON  XXXVI. 


REPENTANCE. 


2  Corinthians  vii.  10. 

Godly  sorrow  workcth  repentance  to  salvation  not  to  be  repented  of:  but  the 
sorrow  of  the  world  worketh  death. 

M.  HE  words  we  have  read,  and  witli  which 
we  propose  to  cherish  your  devotion  in  this 
exercise,  are  connected,  not  only  with  the 
preceding  verses,  but  also  with  a  part  of  that 
epistle  which  St.  Paul  had  written  to  Co- 
rinth bef(jre  this.  This  connexion  is  the 
properest  comment  on  the  sense  of  the  test; 


with  thi.s  therefore,  we  begin,  and  this  part 
of  our  discourse  will  require  your  particular 
attention. 

Our  apostle  had  scarcely  planted  the  gos- 
pel at  Corinth,  and  formed  the  professors  of 
it  into  a  Christian  church,  before  one  of  the 
most  atrocious  crimes  was  committed  in  the 


Seb.  XXXVI.] 


KEPENTASfC'E. 


323 


community.  Ought  we  to  bo  surprised  tliat 
we,  inferior  discip'os  of  the  apostles,  fail  in 
attempting  to  prove  or  to  correct  some  ex- 
cesses ?  Churches  founded  and  edified  by  in- 
spired men  were'not  exempt  from  them.  In 
tiie  church  of  Corinth  we  see  impure,  and 
even  incestuous  practices.  How  abominable 
soever  the  crime  was,  ist.  Paul  was  less  cha- 
grined at  it  than  at  tlie  conduct  of  the  Co- 
rinthian church  towards  the  perpetrators  of 
it.  It  is  not  astonishing  to  find  some  in  large 
congregations,  who  are  the  execration  of  na- 
ture. Of  the  twelve  disciples  whom  Jesus 
Christ  chose  for  apostles,  one  was  a  devil, 
John  vi.  70.  But  that  a  whole  congregation, 
a  Christian  congregation,  should  consider 
such  a  monster  with  patience,  and  instead 
of  punisiiing  his  crime,  sliould  form  pretexts 
to  palliate,  veils  to  conceal  it,  is  surely  the 
height  of  depravity.  Such  however,  were 
the  Corinthians.  Our  apostle  says,  '  ye 
are  puffed  up,'  1  Cor.  v.  2.  With  what 
pride  does  he  reproach  them .''  How  could 
any  man  possibly  derive  a  glory  from  an 
abomination  which  naturally  inspires  morti- 
fication .ind  shame.'  The  pride  with  which 
he  reproaches  them,  is  a  disposition  too  well 
known  among  Christians.  It  is  the  disposition 
of  a  man  who  pretends  to  free  himself  from 
the  ordinary  laws  of  moral  rectitude,  and  to 
leave  that  path  in  which  the  gospel  requires 
all  Christians  to  walk;  to  the  vulgar,  who 
treats  the  Just  fear  of  a  well  regulated  con- 
science, that  trembles  at  the  approach  of  sin, 
as  meanness  of  soul,  and  pusillanimity  ;  and 
who  accommodates  the  laws  of  religion  to  the 
passions  that  govern  him,  and  to  the  seasons 
in  which  he  has  or  has  not  an  oppor canity  of 
being  wicked.  These  were  the  dispositions 
of  the  Corinthians  in  regard  to  the  incestuous 
per,son.  Perhaps  they  derived  some  excul- 
pating maxims  from  the  Jews.  The  Jews 
thought,  that  a  man  who  became  a  proselyte 
to  their  religion,  was  thereby  freed  from 
those  natural  ties  which  before  united  him  to 
his  relations,  so  that  a  man  might  innocently 
espouse  his  sister,  or  his  mother,  and  so  on. 
The  pagans  reproached  the  Jewish  nation 
with  this;  and  this  perhaps  might  furnish 
Tacitus  with  a  part  of  the  character,  that  he 
gave  the  Jews.*  What  is  considered  by  us 
as  sacred,  says  this  celebrated  historian, 
they  treat  as  profane  ;  and  incestuous  mar- 
riages, which  shock  us,  they  think  lawful. 

St.  Paul  rebukes  the  Corinthians  for  mark- 
ing with  a  ciiaracter  of  infamy,  not  only 
their  own  church,  but  in  a  manner  the  whole 
Christian°world.  Do  you,  as  if  he  had  said, 
consider  a  crime  with  indifference,  which  is 
unknown  even  among  heathens  ?  '  It  is  re- 
ported commonly  that  there  is  fornication 
among  you,  and  such  fornication  as  is  not  so 
much  as  named  amongst  the  Gentiles,  that 
one  should  have  his  fathers  wife,'  1  Cor.  v. 
1.  Indeed  there  are  in  pagan  writings  most 
severe  laws  against  incest,  and  wliaL  is  very 
remarkable,  the  apostle  seems  to  allude  in 
the  words  just  now  cited,  to  a  passage  in 
Cicero,  who,  speaking  of  incest,  calls  it  sce- 
lus  inaudUum,  an  unheard  of  crime.  Ac- 
cordingly, we  find  in  Tertullian,  in  Minutius 


Hist.  V.  4. 


Felix,  end  in  other  famous  apologists  for 
Christianity,  tjiat  incest  was  one  of  the  dis- 
orders with  which  the  pagans  reproached  the 
urimitive  Christians ;  the  heathens  either 
did  what  has  been  too  often  done,  charge  a 
whole  family,  sometimes  a  whole  city,  some- 
times a  whole  nation,  with  the  fault  of  one 
member;  or  they  thought  nothing  could 
blacken  Christians  more  than  taxing  them 
with  a  vice,  although  falsely,  which  waa 
held  in  the  utmost  detestation  by  all  pro- 
fessors of  paganism. 

The  apostle  tells  the  Corinthians,  that  in- 
stead of  having  adopted,  as  they  had,  max- 
ims v/hich  seemed  to  palliate  incest,  they 
should  have  imitated  the  conduct  of  the 
Jews,  when  they  were  oWiged  to  excomma- 
nicate  any  scandalous  offenders  from  their 
community.  On  these  sad  occasions,  it  was 
customary  with  the  Jews  to  fast,  to  weep,  and 
to  put  on  inui; Tiling,  as  if  the  person  were 
dead.  '  Ye  are  puffed  up,  and  have  not 
mourned,  as  if  he  who  had  done  this  deed  had 
been  taken  from  you,'  ver.  2.  This  custom 
was  followed  afterward  by  Christians,  wit- 
ness a  famous  passage  in  the  book  entitled 
apostolical  constitutions  ;*^  witness  also  these 
words  of  Origen,  Christians  mourn  as  over 
the  dead  for  those  whom  they  arc  obliged  to 
separate  from  them ;  however  odious  and 
infectious  a  member  of  our  body  may  be,  we 
always  do  violence  to  ourselves,  when  we 
are  under  the  necessity  of  cutting  it  ofTi 
This  is  not  all.  St.  Paul,  not  content  with 
general  censures  and  reproofs,  thought  this 
one  of  the  extreme  cases,  in  which  the  ho- 
nour of  his  apostleship  would  oblige  him  to 
take  his  ecclesiastical  rod,  and  to  perform  one 
of  those  formidable  miracles,  which  God 
enabled  the  primitive  Christians  to  work. 
You  cannot  but  know,  that  among  other  mi- 
raculous gifts  which  God  communicated  for 
the  establishment  of  Christianity,  that  of  in- 
flicting remarkable  punishments  on  some 
offenders  was  one  of  the  most  considerable. 
St.  Peter  employed  this  power  against  Ana- 
nias, wliom  he  caused  to  fall  dead  at  his  feet, 
and  against  the  wife  of  this  miserable  pre- 
varicator, to  whom  he  said,  '  Behold !  the 
feet  of  tliem  which  have  buried  thy  husband 
are  at  the  door,  and  shall  carry  tlieo  out,' 
Acts  v.  9.  St  Paul  speaks  of  this  power  in 
this  stj;  ■,  '  The  weapons  of  our  warfare  are 
miglity  tlirough  God,  in  readiness  to  revenge 
all  disobedience,'  2.  Cor.  x.  4G.  Our  apos- 
tle used  this  power  against  Elymas  the  sor- 
cerer, and  against  Hymeneus  and  Alexan- 
der; he  thougiit  he  ought  also  to  use  it 
ag;i'  jst  the  inctctuous  Corinthian,  and  to 
'  d^iivf-r  him  to  Satan,'  1  Cor.  v.  5.  thus  was 
this  terrible  dispensation  described. 

Such  an  exertion  of  apostolical  power  was 
indispensably  necjssary ;  it  reclaimed  those 
by  fear  whom  mildness  could  not  move ; 
while  an  indulgence  for  such  a  crime  as  this 
would  have  encouraged  the  commission  of 
many  more.  But  the  apostle,  while  he  used 
this  power,  was  extremely  uneasy  on  ac- 
count of  the  necessity  that  forced  him  to  ex- 
ercise it.     'I  wrote  unto  you,  s.;ys  he,  out 


*  Constit.  Apostol.  lib.  ii.  cap.  4J, 
t  Orig.  lib.  ill.  cotint.  Celsnm. 


324 


RErENTANCE. 


[Ser.  XXXVI. 


of  much  affliction  and  anguish  of  heart 
with  many  tears,'  2  Cor.  ii  4.  He  not  only 
declares,  that  he  had  no  intention  by  punish- 
ing the  culprit  to  destroy  his  soul ;  but  that 
he  even  feared  those  sharp  censures  which 
his  letter  had  engaged  the  Corinthian  church 
♦o  inflict,  would  produce  impressions  too  ter- 
rific on  the  soul  of  the  incestuous  sinner,  or, 
as  he  expresses  it,  that  he  would  be  '  swal- 
lowed up  with  overmuch  sorrow,'  ver  7. 

He  goes  tarther  in  my  text,  and  in  the  whole 
chapter,  from  which  I  have  taken  it.  He 
wishes  to  indemnify  himself  for  the  violent 
anguish  that  he  had  suffered,  when  he  was 
obfiged  to  treat  his  dear  Corinthians  with 
extreme  rigour.  He  comforts  himself  by 
recollecting  the  salutary  effects  which  liis 
zeal  had  produced, '  Though  I  made  you  sor- 
ry with  a  letter,'  says  he,  in  the  words  imme- 
diately before  the  text,  '  I  do  not  repent ; 
though  I  did  repent ;  because  ye  sorrow  to 
repentance,  for  ye  were  made  sorry  after  a 
godly  manner.'  In  the  text  he  establishes  this 
general  ma\iin  for  all  Christians,  '  Godly 
sorrow  worketh  repentance  to  salvation  not 
to  be  repented  of:  but  the  sorrow  of  the 
world  worketh  death.' 

The  connexion  of  the  text  with  the  whole 
subject,  that  we  have  been  explaining,  was, 
Qs  I  said  before,  the  best  comment  that  we 
could  propose  to  explain  the  text  itself.  By 
what  we  have  heard,  it  is  easy  to  understand 
what  godly  sorrow  is,  and  what  the  sorrow  of 
the  world.  Godly  sorroio  has  for  its  object 
sin  committed  against  God,  or  rather,  godly 
sorroio  is  the  grief  of  a  man  who  repents  of 
his  sins  as  God  would  have  him  repent;  it  is 
the  sorrow  of  a  man  who  afflicts  hiinself,  not 
only  because  he  is  miserable,  but  because  he 
deserves  to  be  so  ;  and  because  he  has  viola- 
ted those  laws  of  righteousness  and  holiness 
which  his  own  conscience  approves.  The  sor- 
row of  the  world  is  that  which  has  worldly 
blessings  for  its  object ;  or  it  is  the  grief  of  a 
man  who  repents  of  his  sins  as  worldly  men 
repent ;  it  is  the  sorrow  of  one  who  is  more 
concerned  for  his  misery  than  for  sin,  the 
cause  of  it,  and  who  would  even  increase  his 
Climes  to  get  rid  of  his  troubles.  The  ground 
of  St.  Paul's  reasoning  is  this :  '  Godly  sor- 
row worketh  repentance  to  salvation,'  or,  as 
it  may  be  rendered,  •  saving  repentance  not 
to  be  repented  of;*  that  is  to  eay,  a  man  who 
afflicts  himself  on  the  accounts  which  we 
have  mentioned,  will  be  exercised  at  first, 
indeed,  witli  violent  anguish  :  but  in  a  little 
time  he  will  derive  from  this  very  anguish 
substantial  comfort  and  joy,  because  his  sor- 
row for  sin  will  induce  him  to  subdue  it,  and 
to  pray  for  the  paidon  of  it.  On  the  other 
hand,  *  the  sorrow  of  the  Vi^orld  worketh 
death,'  that  is  to  say,  either  the  sorrow 
which  is  occasioned  by  the  loss  of  earthly  en- 
joyments is  fatal  to  him  who  gives  himself  up 
to  it ;  for,  as  the  Wise  Man  says,  '  a  broken 
spirit  dricth  the  bones,'  Prov.  xvii.  22,  or, 
the  sorrow  of  the  world  worketh  death,'  be- 
cause such  a  repentance  as  that  of  worldlings 
will  never  obtain  the  forgiveness  that  is  pro- 
mised to  those  who  truly  repent.  In  this  lat- 
ter sense  I  take  the  words  here. 

This  is  a  general  view  of  the  scope  of  the 
apostle,   and  of  his  ideas  in  the  text;  ideas 


which  we  must  develope  in  order  to  lead  you 
into  the  spirit  of  the  holy  supper  of  the  Lord, 
that  so  the  sermon  may  contribute  to  the  de- 
votion of  the  day.  I  speak  of  those  ideas  which 
St.  Paul  gives  us  of  godly  sorrow,  savinor  re- 
pentance, not  to  be  repented  of;'  for  we  can- 
not enlarge  on  that  which  he  calls  '  sorrow 
of  the  world,'  without  diverting  your  atten- 
tion from  the  solemn  service  of  this  day.  We 
will,  therefore,  content  ourselves  with  tracing 
a  few  characters  of  it  in  the  body  of  this  dis- 
course, that  you  may  perceive  how  different 
the  virtue  which  the  apostle  recommends  is, 
from  the  vice  which  he  intends  to  destroy. 

Godly  sorrow  then,  is  the  principal  object 
of  our  contemplation,  and  there  are  three 
things  that  demand  a  particular  attention. 
The  causes  which  produce  it ;  the  effects  ihaX 
follow  it ;  and  the  blessings  with  which  it  is 
accompanied.  The  first  of  these  articles  will 
describe  3'our  state  a  few  days  ago,  when  ex- 
amining your  consciences  (if,  indeed,  you  did 
examine  them),  you  were  overwhelmed  with 
a  remembrance  of  your  sins.  How  could 
you  cast  your  eyes  on  these  sad  objects  with- 
out feeling  that  sorrow  which  a  penitent  ex- 
firesses  thus,  '  O  Lord !  righteousness  be- 
ongeth  unto  thee  :  but  unto  me  confusion  of 
face,'  Dan.  ix.  7  '  Against  thee,  thee  only,  O 
God  !  have  I  sinned,  and  done  this  evil  in  thy 
sight,'  Ps.  li.  4.  The  second  article  will  de- 
scribe your  present  condition.  How  can  you 
feel  godly  sorrow,  without  resolving  by  reit- 
erated acts  of  love  to  God,  to  dissipate  that 
darkness  which  covered  all  the  evidences  of 
your  love  to  him,  during  the  whole  course 
of  your  sins.'  The  third  article  will  describe 
your  future  condition  through  life,  at  death, 
in  the  day  of  judgment,  and  throughout  all 
eternity.  Happy  periods !  joyful  revolutions  ! 
in  which  penitent  souls,  washed  in  the  Re- 
deemer's blood, may  expect  nothing  but  grace, 
glory,  and  fulness  of  joy  !  This  is  the  whole 
plan  of  this  discourse.  Blessed  be  God,  who 
calls  us  to  day  to  exercise  such  an  honourable 
ministry  !  What  pleasure  to  preach  such  a 
gospel  to  a  people  to  whom  we  are  united  by 
the  tenderest  love!  'O  ye  >  orintliians !  O 
ye  our  beloved  brethren,  our  mouth  is  open 
unto  you,  our  heart  is  enlarged.  Ye  are  not 
straitened  in  ns:  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,'  2  Cor.  vi.  11 — 13. 

I.  The  remembrance  of  sin  is  the  cause  of 
godly  sorrow  in  the  heart  of  a  true  penitent. 
The  sinner  of  whom  I  am  speaKing,  is  to  be 
considered  in  two  different  periods  of  time. 
In  the  first  he  is  under  llie  infatuation  of  sin; 
in  the  hist,  after  reflections  on  his  sinful 
conduct  fill  his  mind.  While  a  sinner  is  com- 
mitting sin,  he  resembles  an  enchanted  man, 
a  fatal  charm  fascinates  hie  eyes  and  sears 
his  conscience,  as  St.  Paul  speaks,  1  Tim.  iv. 
2.  He  judges  of  truth  and  error,  happiness 
and  misery,  only  according  to  the  interest  of 
his  reigning  passion.  Reason,  persuade, 
preach,  censure,  terrify,  thunder,  open  the 
treasures  of  heaven,  md  the  abysses  of  hell, 
the  sinner  remains  insensible  ;  '.so  foolish  and 
ignorant  is  he,  he  is  like  a  beast  before  you," 
to  use  the  language  of  Asaph,  Ps.  Ixxiii.  22. 

But  there  is  another  period  which  I  called 


Skr.  XXXVI.] 


IIEFENTANCE. 


32i 


/ 


fi  time  of  after  reflection  on  his  sinful  conduct. 
Then  the  remembrance  of  sin  is  cutting. 
Then  his  soul  is  lull  of  fears,  regrets,  griefs, 
remorse,  rcproacli.  Tlien  that  sin,  like  the 
book  tliat  St.  Jolin  ate,  which  liad  been 
sweet  as  honey  in  liis  mouth,  becomes  bitter 
in  his  belly.  Rev.  x  10.  Tlien  the  sinner  be- 
holding himself,  and  entering  into  liis  heart, 
finds  iiinis^elf  wounded  with  seven  durts  : — 
with  the  number  of  his  sins — with  the  enor- 
mity of  them — with  the  vanity  of  tiie  motives, 
which  induced  him  to  commit  them — with 
their  fatal  influences  on  the  ujinds  of  his 
neighbours — with  that  cruel  uncertainty, 
into  which  the_y  have  deluded  liis  own  con- 
science— with  the  horrors  of  hell,  of  whicli 
they  are  the  usual  causes — and  with  those 
.sad  reflections  with  which  they  inspire  an 
ingenuous  loving  lieart. 

1.  The  sinner  is  affected  with  the  number 
of  his  sins.  Wlien  we  reflect  on  our  past 
lives,  sins  arise  fc om  all  parts,  and  absorl)  our 
minds  in  their  nmititude.  We  owe  all  our 
existence  to  a  Supreme  Being,  and  we  are 
regpons'ble  to  him  for  every  moment  of  our 
duration.  There  arc  duties  of  age,  obligations 
that  belong  to  childhood,  youth,  manhood, 
and  old  age.  There  are  duties  of  fortune, 
obligations  that  lie  upon  people,  rich,  poor, 
or  in  the  middle  station  of  life.  There  are 
civil  obligations  which  belong  to  magistrates 
and  subjects.  There  are  domestic  duties, 
which  belong  to  ua  as  parents  or  children, 
masters  or  servants.  There  are  ecclesiastical 
duties  belonging  to  us  as  pastors  or  people, 
preachers  or  hearers.  There  are  duties  of 
circumstance,  binding  on  us  as  sick  or  well, 
in  society  or  in  solitude.  Each  of  these  is  a 
class  of  obligations,  and  almost  each  of  them 
is  a' list  of  crimes.  Most  men  deceive  them- 
selves on  this  subject ;  they  contract  their 
notion  of  morality,  inaim  the  religion  of  .lesus 
Christ,  reduce  their  duties  to  a  small  number, 
whrch  they  can  easily  perform,  and  at  length 
tbria  their  idea  of  repentance  by  that  winch 
ihey  imagine  of  their  obligations.  Uut  we 
are  to  suppose  that  (,he  penitent  in  question 
free  from  these  prejudices,  and  finding  his 
guilt  every  wiiere,  pronouncing  himself  guilty 
as  a  magistrate,  and  as  a  subject ;  as  a  lather 
and  as  a  son ;  as  a  servant  and  as  a  master  ; 
as  a  youth  and  as  an  old  man  ;  as  a  rich  and 
as  a  poor  man ;  as  enjoying  his  health,  and 
as  oining  in  want  of  it ;  as  pastor,  and  as  one 
of  the  people,  as  preacher  and  as  liearer. 
J'cople  sometimes  affect  to  be  astonished, 
and  to  complain,  because  we  say  in  our  con- 
fession of  sin,  that  we  have  sinned  from  tiie 
moment  of  our  nativity,  and  that  the  number 
of  our  sins  is  greater  than  that  of  the  hairs  on 
our  heads.  However,theBe  are  not  hyperbolical 
expressions ;  the  greatest  saints  have  used 
them  ;  and  a  close  examination  of  our  lives 
will  convince  us  of  their  exact  conformity  to 
truth.  '  Every  imagination  of  the  thoughts 
of  the  heart  of  man  are  only  evil  continually,' 
Gen.  vi.5,  '  Our  iniquities  are  increased  over 
our  heads,  and  our  trespass  is  grown  up  into 
the  heavens,'  Ezra  ix.  0.  '  Who  can  under- 
stand his  errors  i'  Ps.  xix.  12.  '  O  Lord  let 
thy  loving  kindness  preserve  me, for  innumera- 
ble evils  have  compassed  me  about,  they  are 
more  tlian  the  hairs  of  mine  head,'  Ps.  xl.  11, 12. 

2  T 


2.  The  true  penitent  adds,  to  a  jasl  notion 
of  the  number  of  his  sins  that  of  their  enor- 
mity.    Here  again,  we  must  remove  the  pre- 
judices that  we  have  imbibed  concerning  the 
morality   of  Jesus  Christ ;  for  here  also  we 
have   altered    his   doctrine,   and   taken  the 
world   for  our  casuist,  the  maxims  of  loose 
worldlings  for   our  supreme  law.     We    have 
reduced  great  crimes  to  a  invf  principal  enor- 
mous    vices,    which    few     people    commit. 
There  are   but  few  murderers,  but  few  as^ 
sassins,  but    few    highway  robbers,   strictly 
speaking  :    other   sins,  accordi'ig  to  tis,   are 
frailties   incidental  to   humanity,    necessary 
consequences  of  human   infirmity,  and  not 
evidences  of  a  bad  heart.      But  undeceive 
yourselves,  lay   aside    the  morality  of  tho 
world,  take  the  law  of  Jesus  Christ  for  your 
judge,  and  consider  the  nature   of  things  in 
their  true  point  of  light.     For  example,  what 
can  be  more  opposite  to  the  genius  of  Chris- 
tianity than  that  spirit  of  pride  which  reigns 
over   almost   all  of  us,  which   disguises   us 
from  ourselves,  which  clothes  us  with,  I  know 
not  what,  phantom  of  grandeur,  and  self-im- 
portance, and  which  persuades  us,  that  a  little 
money,  a  distant  relation  to  a  noble  family,  a 
little  genius,   a   little   countenance  and   ap»- 
plause,  entitle  ujs   to   an  elevation  above  the 
rest  of  mankind,  and  to  the  fantastic  privilege 
of  considering   ourselves  as  men  made  of  a 
mould  different  from  that  of  the  rest  of  man- 
kind .''  What  can  be  more  criminal  than  those 
calumnies  and  slanderous  falsehoods,  which 
infect  the  greatest  part  of  our  conversations  ; 
to  maintain  which,  we  pretend  to  penetrate 
the  most   hidden  recesses   of  a  neighbour's 
heart,  we  publish  liis   real  faults,  we  impute 
others  to  him,  of  which  he  is  perfectly  inno- 
cent, we  derive  our  happiness  from  his  misery, 
and  build   our   glory  on    his   shame.'    What 
more  execrable  than  habitual   swearing,  and 
profaning  the  name  of  Almighty  God.''     Is  it 
not   sliocking     to    hear    some    who   profess 
(  liristianity,  daily  profane  religion,  revile  its 
institutions,  blaspheme  their  Creator  for  an 
unfavourable  cast  of  a  die,  or  turn  of  a  card  ? 
In  general,  can  any  thing  be  more  injurious 
to  Jesus  Christ,  than  that  attachment  which 
most  of  us  have  to   the  world,   although  in 
different  degrees .-'     What  more  fully  prove"s 
our  light    estimation    of  his   promises,   our 
little  confidence  in  his  faithfulness  .''  My  bre- 
thren, we  tremble  when  wo  hear  of  a  wretch, 
whom  hunger  had  driven  to  commit  a  robbery 
on  the  liignway  ;  or  of  a  man  mad  with  pas- 
sion, who,  in  a  transport  of  wrath  had  killed 
his  brother !    But,  would  we  enter  into  our 
own  hearts,  would  v;e  take  the  pains  to  exa- 
mine the  nature  of  our  sins,  wc  should  find 
ourselves  so  black  and  liideous,  that  the  dis- 
tance which  partial  self-love  puts  between  us 
and  the  men  at  whom  we  tremble,  would  di- 
minish and  disappear. 

3.  A  third  idea  that  afflicts  a  penitent,  is 
that  of  the  fatal  influence  which  his  sins  have 
had  on  the  soul  of  his  neighbour.  My  breth- 
ren, one  sin  strikes  a  thousand  blows,  while 
it  seems  to  aim  at  striking  only  one.  It  is  a 
contagious  poison,  which  diffuses  itself  far 
and  wide,  and  infects  not  only  liim  who  com- 
mits it,  but  the  greatest  part  of  those  wlio 
see  it  committed.    You  are  a  father, you  can- 


226 


REPENTANCE. 


LriEK.  XXXVI. 


not  sin  witliout  dragging  your  children  down 
the  gulf  into  which  you  precipitate  yourself. 
Hence  we  generally  see,  if  a  father  be  ig- 
norant of  religion,  his  children  are  ignorant 
of  religion  ;  if  a  mother  be  a  mere  worldling, 
her  children  are  infatuated  with  love  to  the 
world.  You  are  a  pastor,  you  cannot  fall 
into  sin  without  inducing  some  of  your  flock 
to  sin  too  ;  there  are  always  some  people  so 
weak  or  so  wicked,  as  to  think  they  cannot 
do  wrong,  while  they  imitate  you,  while  they 
take  those  for  their  exajnplcs  who  profess  to 
regulate  the  conduct  of  others.  St.  Jerome 
says,  The  house  and  the  conduct  of  a  bisliop 
are  considered  as  a  mirror  of  public  dis- 
cipline, so  that  all  think  they  do  right  when 
they  follow  the  example  of  their  bishop. 
You  are  a  master,  you  cannot  sin  without 
emboldening  your  apprentices  and  workmen 
to  sin,  nor  without  making  your  families 
schools  of  error,  and  your  shops  academies 
of  the  devil.  Dreadful  thought !  too  capable 
ofproducing  the  most  exquisite  sorrow  !  \N'liat 
can  a  man  think  of  himself,  who,  consider- 
ing those  unhappy  creatures  who  arc  already 
victims  to  the  just  displeasure  of  God  in  hell, 
or  who  are  likely  to  become  so,  is  obliged  to 
say  to  himself,  agreeably  to  the  divers  cir- 
cumstances in  which  Providence  has  placed 
him,  Perhaps  tliis  church,  which  has  produc- 
ed only  apostates,  might  have  produced  only 
martyrs,  had  I  '  declared  the  whole  counsel 
of  God'  with  plainness  and  courage  .''  Acts  xx. 
27.  Perhaps  this  family  that  is  plunged  into 
ignorance,  fallen  from  ignorance  to  vice,  and 
from  vice  into  perdition,  might  iiave  produced 
an  '  Onesimus,  a  partner  of  the  saints.'  Philem. 
10.  17,  had  I  caused  the  spirit  of  piety  and 
virtue  to  have  animated  the  house  !  I'erhaps 
this  child,  given  me  to  be  made  an  oftering 
to  the  Lord,  and  so  to  become  '  my  joy  and 
crown,'  Phil.  iv.  1.  through  all  eternity  may 
execrate  me  as  the  author  of  his  misery ;  he 
perhaps  may  justly  reproach  me,  and  say, 
unworthy  parent,  it  was  by  imitating  thy  f. >' si 
example  that  I  was  brought  into  this  intole- 
rable condition  .  they  were  thine  abominable 
maxims,  and  thy  pernicious  actions,  which 
involved  mo  first  in  sin  and  then  in  puni'li- 
ment  in  hell. 

4.  The  weakness  of  motives  to  sin  is  the 
fourth  cause  of  the  sorrow  of  a  penitent. 
When  people  find  themsoli'fts  deceived  in  the 
choice  of  one  out  of  man_y  objects,  they  com- 
fort themselves  by  reflecting,  either  that  all 
the  objects  had  similar  qualifications  to  re- 
commend them,  or  that  their  dissimilarity 
was  diSicuIt  ti^  be  known.  But  what  propor- 
tion is  there  between  motives  to  vice  and 
motives  to  virtue .'  Attend  a  moment  to 
motives  to  sin.  Sometimes  a  vapour  in  the 
brain,  a  rapidity  in  the  circulation  of  the 
blood,  a  flow  of  spirits,  a  revolt  of  the  senses, 
are  our  motives  to  sin.  But  after  this  vapour 
is  dissipated,  after  this  rapidity  is  abated, 
after  the  spirits  and  senses  are  calmed,  and 
we  reflect  on  what  induced  us  to  oft'end  God, 
how  can  we  bear  the  sight  of  ourselves  with- 
out shame  and  confusion  of  fact .'  Motives  to 
sin  arc  innumerable  and  very  various :  but 
what  are  they  all .''  Sometimes  an  imaginary 
interest,  an  inch  of  ground,  and  sometimes 
a  sceptre,  a  crown,  the  conquest  of  tlie   uni- 


verse, '  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  the 
glory  of  them,'  Matt  iv.  10.  There  comes, 
however,  a  moment,  in  which  all  these  dif- 
ferent motives  are  alike.  When  a  man  lies 
on  a  death-bed,  when  all  terrestial  objects  are 
disappearing,  when  he  begins  to  consider 
them  in  their  true  point  of  light,  and  to  com- 
pare sceptres,  conquests,  croM'ns,  and  king- 
doms, with  the  ideas  of  his  own  mind,  tlie 
immense  desires  of  his  heart,  and  the  large 
plans  of  felicity  that  religion  traces,  he  finds 
he  has  been  dazzled  and  misled  by  false  lights, 
and  how  in  such  an  hour  can  he  bear  to  re- 
flect on  himself  without  shame  and  con- 
fusion ■: 

5.  I  make  a  fifth  article  of  the  penitent's 
uncertainty  of  his  state.     For  although  the 
mercy  of  God  is  infinite,  and  he  never  re- 
jects those  who    sincerely  repent,    yet  it  is 
certain,  the  sinner  in  the  first   moments  of 
his  penitence  has  reason  to  doubt  of  his  state, 
and  till   the  evidence  of  his  conversion  be- 
comes clear,  there  is  almost  as  much  proba- 
bility of  his  destruction   as  of  his  salvation. 
Terrible  uncertainty  !    so  terrible,  that  I  am 
not  afraid  of  aflirming,  except  the  torments 
of  hell,  it  is  the  most    cruel  condition    into 
which  an  intcUigent  being  can  be  brought. 
Represent   to  yourselves,    if  it   be  possible, 
the  state  of  a  man  who  reasons  thus.     When 
I  consider  myself,  I  cannot  doubt  of  my  guilt, 
I  have  added  crime  to  crime,  rebellion  to  re- 
bellion.    I  have  sinned  not  only  through  in- 
firmity and  weakness  :    but  I   have  been  go- 
verned b}'  principles  horrible  and  detestable  ; 
incompatible  with   those    of  good  men,  and 
with  all  hopes  of  paradise.     I  deserve  liell,  it 
is  certain,  and  there    are   in  that   miserable 
place  sinners  less   guilt;,  than  myself     My 
sentence,  indeed,  is  not  yet  denounced  :  but 
what  proof  have  I,  that  I  have  not  sinned  be- 
yond the  reach  of  that  mercy  which   is  held 
forth  to  sinners  in  the  gospel.''    The  gospel 
says  plainly  enough,  '  If  any  man  sin,  there 
is  an  advocate  v.ilh  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ 
the  righteous,"'  1    John  ii.   1 ;    but  the  same 
gospel  declares  as  plainly,  that     it  is  impos- 
sible for  those  vho  v/ere   once  enlightened, 
if  they  fall  away ,  to  renew  them  again  unto 
repentance,'  Heb.  \\    4    C.     I  see  indeed  in 
the  New  Testament   a  Peter,  who  repented 
and  was  pardoned,    after  he    had  denied  his 
Saviour  :  but  the  same  l-.ook  sliov.^sme  also  a 
Judas,  who  died  in  despair.     On  tliis  side  of 
a  crucified  Chi  i\.  I  see  a  converted  tnief :  on 
the  other  hangs  one,  who    persisting  m  im- 
penitence expires  in  guilt  unpardoned  ;    and 
the  blood  of  the   Saviour  flowing   all  warm 
and  propitious  from  his  veins,  obtains  in  his 
sight  pardon  for  his    partner,    but  none  for 
him.     I  see  indeed  in   the  gospel,  that  God 
invites   the    sinner,    and    waits    awhile    for 
liis  return  :    but  I  see  also,  that  this  time  is 
limited  ;  that  it  is  a  fine  day  succeeded  by  a 
terrible  night ;    that  it  is  a  measure   which 
the  obstinacy  of  a  sinner  fills  up.     O  happy 
days  !  in  which  I  saw  the  face  of  my  God,  in 
which  I  could  assure  m3'self  of  my  salvation, 
in  which  I  cheerfully  waited  for  death  as  my 
passage  to  glory.     Ah  !  whither  are  you  fled  ! 
Now,  what  must  I  think  of  myself.'    Have  I 
committed  only  pardonable  offences,  or  have 
1  been  guilty  of  those  crimes  for  which  there 


Seh.  XXXVI.J 


REPENTANCE. 


327 


is  no  forgiveness  ?  Shall  1  be  forgiven  as 
Peter  was,  or  shall  I  be  abandoned  to  des- 
peration like  Judas  ?  Shall  I  ascend  to  pa- 
radise with  the  converted  thief,  or  must  I 
with  his  impenitent  partner  be  cast  into 
the  flames  of  hell?  Will  my  Redeemer 
deign  to  raise  me  by  his  life-giving  voice 
from  my  grave  to  the  resurrection  unto  life, 
or  will  he  doom  me  to  destruction  ?  '  Are  the 
riches  of  the  goodness  and  forbearance  of 
God,'  yet  open  to  mc,  or  are  they  closed 
against  me  ?  Am  I  a  real  penitent,  or  am  I 
only  an  apparent  one?  Shall  I  be  damned? — 
Shall  I  be  saved  " — Perhaps  the  one. — Per- 
liaps  the  other. — Perhaps  heaven. — Perhaps 
hell. — O  flital  uncertainty  ! — Dreadful  horror! 
Cruel  doubt! — This  is  the  sixth  arrow  of  the 
Almighty,  that  wounds  the  heart  of  a  repent- 
ing sinner. 

C.  Perhaps  hell.  This  is  my  si.vlh  reflec- 
tion. Hell  is  an  idea,  against  which  there  is 
no  pliilosophy  to  eomlort,  no  profanencss  to 
protect,  no  brutality  to  harden  ;  for  if  we 
every  day  sec  men,  who  seem  to  bo  got 
above  the  fear  of  future  punishment,  it  is  be- 
cause we  see  at  the  same  time  men,  who 
have  found  the  art  either  of  stupifying  them- 
selves by  the  tumultuous  noise  of  their  pas- 
sions, or  of  blinding  themselves  by  their 
infidelity.  The  very  skepticism  of  these  men 
marks  tiieir  timidity.  The  very  attempts, 
wliich  they  make  to  avoid  thinking  of  hell, 
are  full  of  proofs  that  they  cannot  bear  the 
sight  of  it.  Indeed,  who  can  support  the 
idea  of  the  torments  of  hell,  especially  when 
their  duration  is  added  ?  Yet  this  is  the  idea 
that  strikes  a  penitent,  he  condemns  himself 
to  suffer  this  punishment,  he  places  himself 
on  the  edge  of  this  gulf,  and  if  1  may  be  al- 
lowed to  speak  so,  draws  in  the  pestilential 
vapours,  that  arise  from  this  bottoniless 
abyss.  Every  moment  of  his  lifii,  before  he 
beholds  God  as  his  reconciled  Father,  is  a 
moment,  in  which  probably  ho  may  be  cast 
into  liell,  becn.use  there  is  no  period  in  the 
life  of  such  a  man,  in  which  it  is  not  probable 
that  he  may  die,  and  there  is  no  death  for 
one  who  dies  in  impenitence,  which  will  not 
be  a  deatii  in  a  state  of  reprobation. 

7.  In  fine,  the  last  arrow  that  wounds  the 
heart  of  a  penitent,  is  an  arrow  of  divine 
love.  The  more  we  love  God,  the  more  mi- 
sery we  endure  when  we  have  been  so  un- 
happy as  to  offend  him.  Yes,  this  love, 
which  inflames  seraphims,  this  love,  which 
makes  the  felicity  of  angels,  this  love,  which 
supports  the  believer  under  the  most  cruel 
torments,  this  love  is  more  terrible  than 
death,  and  becomes  the  greatest  tormentor 
of  the  penitent.  To  have  oiFendod  a  God 
whom  ho  loves,  a  God  whom  so  many  excel- 
lences render  lovely,  a  God  whom  he  longs 
again  to  love,  notwitiistanriing  those  terrible 
looks  which  !»c  casts  on  the  sins  that  the 
penitent  deplores ;  these  thoughts  excite 
such  sorrows  in  the  soul,  as  nothing  but  ex- 
perience can  give  men  to  understimd. 

The  union  of  all  these  cau«fij>,  which  pro- 
duce sorrow  in  a  crue  penitent,  forms  the 
grand  difference  between  iliat  which  St. 
Paul  calls  gudlij  sorrow,  and  that  which  he 
calls  th<'  sorrovi  of  the  icorld,  that  is  to  say, 
between  true  repentance  and  tliat  uneasiness. 


which  worldly  systems  sometimes  give  ano- 
ther kind  of  penitents.  The  grief  of  the  lat- 
ter arises  only  from  motives  of  self-interest, 
from  punishments  they  feel,  or  from  conse- 
quences they  fear. 

We  have  seen,  tlicn,  the  true  causes  of 
ffodly  sorrow,  and  we  are  now  to  attend  to 
its  effects  ;  they  constitute  a  second  remark- 
able difference  hetwoca  godly  sorrow  and  the 
sorrow  of  the,  world. 

II,  St.  Paul  speaks  of  the  effects  of  godbj 
sorrow  only  in  general  terms  in  our  text,  iie 
says,  it  'worketh  repentance  to  salvation :' 
but  in  the  following  verses  he  speaks  more 
particularly  ;  *  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  indignation, 
yea,  what  fear,  yea,  what  vehement  desire, 
yea,  what  zeal,  yea.  what  revenge  !'  Some  of 
these  terms  inay  perhaps  be  equivocal,  how- 
ever, we  do  not  intend  at  prr-sent  to  inquire 
into  the  various  senses  of  them  :  but  will 
take  them  in  that  sense  which  seems  most 
obvious,  most  agreeable  to  the  style  of  St. 
Paul,  and  to  the  subject  of  which  he  ia 
speaking. 

There  is  also  in  the  language  of  the  apos- 
tle, in  what  he  calls  the  'working  of  godly 
sorrow,'  something  relative  to  the  state  of 
the  Corinthian  church  in  regard  to  the  case 
of  the  incestuous  person  ;  and  this  seems  par- 
ticularly clear  in  the  expression,  '  yea,  what 
revenge!'  St.  Paul  very  likely  referred  to 
the  excommunication  of  this  person  by  the 
Corinthian  church.  He  had  directed  them 
in  a  former  epistle,  '  when  ye  are  gathered 
ton-ether,  and  my  spirit,  with  the  power  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  deliver  such  a  one 
unto  Satan,'  1  Cor.  v.  4,  5.  We  have  seen 
that  the  puni.shments  inflicted  on  such  per- 
sons are  called  vc7igcancc,  and  of  this  re- 
venge, or  vengeance,  the  apostle  speaks. 
I,et  us  omit  every  thing  personal,  aud  let  us 
attend  only  to  that  part  of  the  subject  which 
regards  ourselves. 

The  first  effect  of  godbj  sorrow  is  what 
our  apostle  calls  carefulness,  or,  as  I  would 
rather  read  it,  vigilance,  'yea,  what  vigi- 
lance I'  I  understand  by  this  term  the  dis- 
position of  a  man,  who  feeling  a  sincere  sor- 
row for  his  sins,  and  being  actually  under  the 
afflicting  hand  of  God,  is  not  content  with  a 
few  general  notions,  and  a  little  vague 
knowledge  of  his  own  irregularities]:  but 
uses  all  his  efforts  to  examine  every  circum- 
stance of  his  life,  and  to  dive  into  the  least 
obvious  parts  of  his  own  conscience,  in  order 
to  discover  whatever  is  offensive  to  that  God, 
whose  favour  and  clemency  he  most  earnest- 
ly implores.  The  penitence  of  worldlings,^ 
or  as  St.  Paul  expresses  it,  '  the  sorrow  of 
the  world;'  may  indeed  produce  such  gene- 
ral notions,  and  such  a  vague  knowledge  of 
sin,  us  I  just  nowmejitionod.  AtHicted  peo- 
ple very  commonly  say,  We  deserve  these 
punishments,  we  aro  sinners,  very  great  sin- 
ners :  but  those  penitents  are  rare,  very  rare 
indeed,  who  possess  what  our  apostle  calls 
carefulness,  or  vigilance.  A  Christian,  who 
is  truly  aflected  with  having  offended  God, 
labours  with  the  utmost  earnesuiess  to  find 
out  all  that  can  have  contributed  to  excite 


REPENTANX'E. 


[Seb.  XXXVI. 


the  anger  of  God  against  him,  and  to  engage 
him  to  redouble  the  strokes  of  a  just  dis])lea 
Bure.  Perhaps  it  may  be  some  connexion 
attended  with  dangerous  influences,  which 
I  had  not  perceived.  Ferliaps  it  may  be  the 
retention  of  some  ill-acquired  property,  tl;e 
injuBtice  of  tacquiring  wliich  1  have  refused 
to  acknowledge,  lest  my  conscience  should 
drive  me  to  make  restitution.  Perhaps  I 
iniiy  have  omitted  some  virtue  essential  to 
Christianity.  God  has  taken  away  my  for- 
tune ;  but  perhaps  I  abused  it,  perhaps  it  ex- 
cited my  pride,  and  made  me  forget  my  infir- 
mities, my  dust  and  aslies.  God  took  away 
my  child,  the  whole  comfort  of  my  life  ;  but 
probably  lie  sav.',  I  made  an  idol  of  it,  and 
siuffered  it  to  till  a  place  in  my  heart,  which 
rught  to  have  been  reserved  for  God  alone. 
God  Bent  a  sickness,  which  I  should  not  have 
Aaturaliy  expected  ;  but  perhaps,  health  was 
a  snare  to  me,  and  held  me  from  considering 
iny  last  end.  In  view  of  such  a  person  our 
apostlo  would  exclaim,  '  Behold,  this  self- 
t^ame  tiling,  that  ye  sorrowed  after  a  godly 
gort,  what  carefulness  it  wrought  in  you  !' 

*  What  clearing  of  yourselves  !'  adds  St. 
Paul.  The  Greek  word  signifies  apology, 
nnd  it  will  be  best  understood  by  joining  the 
following  expression  witli  it,  ycu^irliat  indig- 
7iation !  In  the  sorrov/  of  the  world  apology 
and  indignation  are  usually  companions  ;  in- 
dignation against  him  who  represents  the 
atrocity  of  a  sin,  and  apology  for  him  who 
commits  it.  In  what  odious  colours  does  this 
artful  indignation  describe  a  man,  who  freely 
preaches  the  whole  counsel  of  God,'  Acts  xx. 
ti7;  representing  to  eyery  sinner  i'>  its  own 
point  of  light  the  crime  of  wliich  he  is  guilty  I 
Sometimes  we  accuse  him  of  rashness,  as  if  a 
man  ought  never  to  reprove  the  vices  of 
others  unless  he  believes  his  own  conduct  is 
irreprehensible.  Sometimes  we  reproach  hirn 
with  the  very  sins  which  he  censures  in 
others,  as  if  a  man  ought  to  be  perfect  him- 
Relf,  before  he  pretends  to  reprove  the  im- 
perfections of  his  brethren.  Sometimes  we 
account  him  a  maintainer  of  heresies,  as  if  it 
were  impossible  to  press  home  the  practice  of 
religion  without  abjuring  the  speculative  doc- 
trines that  are  revealed  in  the  same  gospel. 
St.  Paul  experienced  this  indignation  as 
much  as  any  minister  of  the  gospel.  In 
deed  it  seems  impossilile,  that  a  ministry 
so  popular  as  his  should  not  expose  itself  to 
inlander  from  the  abundant  malignity  of  the 
age  in  wijich  it  was  exercised.  And  this  will 
always  be  tlie  fate  of  all  those  who  walk  in 
the  stejis  of  this  a[K)8lle,  and  take  his  resolu- 
tion and  eenrage  for  a  model. 

The  same  principle  that  produces  indigna- 
tion against  tliose  who  reprove  our  disorders, 
inspires  us  with  npoJogics  to  excuse  ourselves. 
The  reproved  sinner  is  always  fruitful  in  ex- 
cuses, always  ingenious  in  finding  reasons  to 
exculpate  himself,  even  while  he  gives  him- 
self up  to  those  excesses  which  admit  of  the 
least  excuse  ;  one  while,  his  time  of  life  ne- 
cessarily induces  him  to  some  sins ;  another 
time,  human  frailty  Ik  incompatible  widi  per- 
fect piety  ;  now  he  pleads  the  vivacity  of  his 
passions,  which  will  suffer  no  control;  and  then 
lie  Says,  he  is  irresistibly  carried  away  with 
tlie  Ibrce  of  example  in  spite  of  all  his  efiorts. 


Now,  change  the  objects  of  indignalioT, 
and  apologij,  and  you  will  have  a  just  notion 
of  the  dispositions  of  the  Corinthians,  and  of 
the  effects  which  godly  sorroic  produces  in 
the  soul  of  a  true  penitent.  Let  yonr  apology 
have  for  its  object  that  ministry  which  you 
have  treated  so  unworthily,  let  your  indigna- 
tion turn  agiinst  yourselves,  and  then  you 
will  have  a  right  to  pretend  to  the  preroga- 
tives of  true  repentance.  What  sins  liavo 
you  lamented  last  week  ?  Your  exces- 
sive love  of  the  world .'  Let  this  sorroio 
produce  an  apology  for  the  holy  ministry  ;  let 
it  excite  indignation  against  yourselves  ;  ac- 
knowledge that  we  had  reason  to  afhrm  '  the 
friendship  of  the  worhl  is  enmity  with  God/ 
Jam.  iv.  4  ;  that  '  no  man  can  serve  two  mas- 
ters,' Matt.  vi.  24 ;  that  some  amusements, 
some  ostentatious  airs,  some  liveries  of  the 
world,  ill  become  a  Christian:  and  blame 
yourselves,  if  you  be  incapable  of  relishing 
this  doctrine.  What  sin  Jiave  you  been  la- 
menting ?  Avarice  .-'  Let  this  sorrow  apolo- 
gize for  tin  holy  miniiitry,  and  let  it  excite 
indignation  against  yourselves.  Acknowledge, 
we  iiad  reasons  sufficient  for  sa}  ing,  that '  the 
love  of  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil,'  1  Tim. 
vi.lO;  that  '  covctousness  is  idolatry,' Col. 
iii.  5  ;  that  '  the  covetous  shall  not  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God,'  1  Cor.  vi.  10;  that  such 
mean,  low,  sordid  sentiments  are  unworthy  of 
those,  whom  Jesus  Christ  has  received  into 
communion  with  himself,  whom  he  has 
brouglit  up  in  a  school  of  generosity,  disin- 
terestedness, and  magnanimity :  who  have 
seen  in  his  person  examples  ofall  these  noble 
virtues  ;  and  now  find  fault  if  you  can,  with 
any  besides  yourselves,  if  you  be  incapable 
of  digesting  this  doctrine.  '  Behold  this  seli"- 
same  thing,  that  ye  sorrowed  alter  a  godly 
sort,  what  carefulness  it  wrought  in  you,  yea, 
what  apoloo-y,  j^ea,  what  indignation  !' 

The  apostle  adds,'  yea,  what  fear.'  By  fear, 
in  this  place,  we  understand  that  self-difli- 
dence,  v,'hich  an  idea  of  the  sins  we  have 
committed,  ought  naturally  to  inspire.  Ill 
this  sense.  St.  Paul  says  to  the  Romans,  '  be 
not  high-minded  ;  but  fear,'  chap.  xi.  20.  Fear, 
that  is  to  sa}',  distrust  iiiyself.  I  do  not 
mean  a  bare  speculative  Jifiidence,  that  per- 
suades the  mind  :  I  understand  a  practical 
fear,  which  penetrates  the  heart,  inspires  us 
with  salutary  cautions  against  the  repetition 
of  such  sins  as  we  arc  nios^  inclined  to  com- 
mit. This  effect  produced  by  godly  sorrow, 
is  one  of  the  principal  characters  that  distin- 
guishes it  from  the  sorrow  of  tlie  world,  from 
that  repentance,  which  is  ofit^n  found  in  false 
penitents.  It  is  one  of  the  surest  ma^ks  of 
real  repentance,  and  one  of  the  best  eviden- 
ces, that  it  is  not  imaginarj-.  Let  the  occa- 
sion of  your  penitential  sorrows  in  the  past 
week  teach  you  to  know  yourself,  and  engage 
you  to  guard  those  tempers  of  your  hearts, 
the  folly  of  which  your  own  experience  has  so 
fully  taught  you.  Here  you  sullered  through 
your  inattention  and  dissipation ;  fear  lest 
you  should  fall  by  the  same  means  again ; 
guard  against  this  weakness,  strengthen  this 
feeble  part,  accustom  yourself  to  attention, 
examine  what  relation  every  circumstance  of 
your  life  has  to  your  duty.  There  you  fell 
through  your  vanity  ;  fear  lest  you  should 


J 


Seb.  XXXVI.] 


HEPENTANCE. 


329 


fall  again  by  the  same  mean  ;  guard  against 
this  weakness,  accustom  yourself  to  meditate 
on  your  original  meanness,  and  on  whatever 
can  inspire  you  with  the  grace  of  humility. 
Another  time  you  erred  through  excessive 
complaisance  ;  fear  lest  you  should  err  again 
by  the  same  mean  ;  guard  against  this  weak- 
ness, accustom  yourself  to  resist  opp'irtunity, 
when  resistance  is  necessary,  and  never  blusli 
to  say,  '  It  is  right  in  the  siglit  of  God,  to 
hearken  unto  God,  more  than  unto  you,' 
Acts  iv.  19.  In  such  a  case,  St.  Paul  would 
exclaim,  '  behold,  this  self-same  thing,  tiiat 
ye  sorrowed  after  a  godly  sort,  what  fear  it 
wrought  in  you !' 

In  the  fifth  place, '  What  vehement  desire  .-" 
This  is  another  vague  term.  Godly  sorrow 
produces  divers  kinds  of  desire.  Here  I  con- 
fine it  to  one  meaning  ;  it  sionifies,  I  think,  a 
desire  of  participating  the  favour  of  God,  of 
becoming  an  object  of  the  merciful  promises, 
vv'hich  he  has  made  to  truly  contrite  souls, 
and  of  resting  under  the  siiade  of  that  cross, 
where  an  expiatory  sacrifice  was  offered  to 
divine  justice  for  the  sins  of  mankind.  A 
penitent,  who  sees  the  favourable  looks  of  a 
compassionate  God  intercepted  ;  a  penitent, 
who  cannot  behold  that  adorable  face,  the 
smiles  of  which  constitute  all  his  joy  ;  a  peni- 
tent, who  apprehends  his  God  justly  flaming 
with  anger  against  him,  desires  only  one 
thing,  that  is,  to  recover  a  sense  of  the  favour 
of  God.  *  If  thy  presence  go  not  with  me 
carry  us  not  up  hence,'  said  Moses  once, 
Exod.  xxxiii.  15  ;  should  we  conquer  all  the 
land  of  promise,  and  possess  all  its  treasures, 
and  not  enjoy  thy  love,  we  would  rather  spend 
all  our  days  here  in  the  desert.  '  I  will  arise, 
and  go  to  my  Father,  and  will  say  unto  him, 
Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  be- 
fore thee,  make  me  as  one  of  thy  hired  ser- 
vants,' Luke  XV.  18,  19 ;  this  was  the  lan- 
guage of  the  prodigal  son.  And  the  prayer 
of  the  psalmist  is  to  the  same  purpose,  '  Cast 
me  not  away  from  thy  presence,  and  take  not 
thy  holy  spirit  from  me,  restore  unto  me  the 
ioy  of  thy  salvation,  uphold  me  with  thy  free 
spirit,'  Ps.  li.  11,  12. 

Finally,  zeal  is  the  sixth  effect  o( godly  sor- 
rmo,  and  it  may  have  three  sorts  of  objects, 
God,  our  neighbours,  and  ourselves.  But,  as 
the  time  is  nearly  elapsed,  and  as  I  have 
nhown  you  in  general  what  godly  sorrow  is, 
and  what  eftects  are  wrought  in  a  penitent 
by  it,  I  shall  proceed  to  close  this  discourse  by 
describing  the  benefits  that  accompany  it. 

III.  St.  Paul  expresses  himself  In  a  very 
concise  manner  on  this  article :  but  his  lan- 
guage is  full  of  meaning  ;  repentance  produ- 
ced by  godly  sorrow,  says  he,  '  is  not  to  be 
xepented  of  This  is  one  of  those  tours  of 
expression,  by  which,  while  a  subject  seems 
to  be  diminished,  the  highest  ideas  are  given 
of  it.  '  Godly  sorrow  worketh  repentance 
not  to  be  repented  of,'  that  is  to  say,  it  is  always 
a  full  source  of  consolation  and  joy.  Let  us 
adapt  ourselves  to  the  shortness  of  our  time. 
Godly  sorrow  reconciles  us  to  three  enemies, 
which,  while  we  live  in  sin,  attack  us  with 
implacable  rage.  The  first  is  divine  justice; 
the  second  our  own  conscience  ;  the  last  death. 

1.  The  first  enemy  who  attacks  us  while 
we  live  in  sin,  with  implacable   rage,  is  the 


justice  of  God.  There  can  be  no  other  rela- 
tion betv^een  God  and  an  obstinate  sinner 
than  that  which  subsists  between  judge  and 
criminal ;  '  God  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  be- 
hold evil,'  Hab.  i.  13;  and  his  justice  point.'! 
all  his  thunders  against  the  devoted  head  of 
him  who  gives  himself  up  to  the  commission 
of  it.  Godly  sorrow  reconciles  us  to  divine 
justice.  This  is  perhaps  of  all  proposition.'J 
the  least  disputable,  the  most  clear,  and  the 
most  demonstrable. 

Consult  your  own  reason,  it  will  inform 
you,  God  is  good  ;  it  will  prove,  by  all  the  ob- 
jects which  surround  3'ou,  that  it  is  not  pos- 
sible for  God  to  refuse  mercy  to  a  penitent, 
who  weeps,  and  mourns  for  sin,  who  prays 
for  mercy,  who  covers  himself  with  sackcloth 
and  ashes,  who  dares  not  venture  to  lift  up 
his  eyes  to  heaven,  who  would  shod  all  his 
blood  to  atone  for  the  sins  that  he  has  com- 
mitted, and  who  would  not  fbr  the  whole  uni- 
verse allow  himself  to  commit  them  again. 

To  reason  add  authority,  and  it  will  appear, 
that  all  mankind  profess  to  be  guilty  of  sin, 
and  to  adore  a  God  of  pardoning  mercy,  and 
although  numbers  remain  ignorant  of  the  na- 
ture of  true  repentance,  yet  allow  it  is  at- 
tended with  excellent  prerogatives. 

To  reason  and  authority  add  revelation. 
But  how  is  it  possible  for  me  at  present 
even  to  hint  all  the  comfortable  testimonies 
of  revelation  on  this  article  '?  Revelation 
gives  you  ideas  of  the  mercy  of  God  the 
most  tender,  the  most  affectinc,  the  most 
sublime ;  it  speaks  of  '  bowels  troubled, 
repentings  kindled  together,'  at  the  sound  of 
a  penitent's  plaintive  voice,  Jer.  xxxi.  20; 
Hos.  xi.  8.  Revelation  speaks  of  oaths  utter- 
ed by  God  himself,  whose  bare  word  is  evi- 
dence enough,  '  As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord,' 
Ez3k.xxxiii.il.  (St.  Paul  tells  us,  'because 
God  could  swear  by  no  greater,  he  sware  by 
himself,'  Heb.  vi.  13;  and  in  the  text  now 
quoted  God  employs  this  kind  of  speaking,  an 
appeal  to  the  most  excellent  of  all  beings,  in 
order  to  satisfy  the  trembling  conscience  of  a 
penitent.)  '  As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord,  I  have 
no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked :  but 
that  the  wicked  turn  from  his  way  and  live.' 
Revelation  opens  to  you  those  '  fountains  of 
life  which  were  opened  to  the  house  of  David 
and  to  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  and  leads 
to  the  blood  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world, 
which  flows  for  penitent.sinners,'  Zech.  xiii.  1 . 

Consult  experience,  and  it  will  show  you  a 
cloud  of  witnesses,  whose  repentance  was 
accepted.  Witness  many  a  time  the  whole 
people  of  Israel,  witness  Moses,  witness  Da- 
vid, v/itncss  Hezekiah,  witness  Manasseh, 
witness  Nebuchadnezzar,  witness  Nineveh, 
witness  that  prostitute  who  wept  in  Simon's 
house,  witness  the  poor  publican,  witness  the 
converted  thief,  witness  every  penitent  in 
this  assembly,  for  what  would  become  of  you, 
I  speak  of  the  holiest  of  you,  what  would 
become  of  you,  were  rot  God  good,  were  he 
not  infinitely  good,  were  he  not  merciful  to 
wait  while  we  fall  into  sin  until  we  rise 
again  by   repentance  ^ 

2.  As  godly  sorroio  reconciles  us  to  divine 
justice,  so    it    reconciles  us  to  our  own  con- 
sciences.    We  sometimes  lull  conscience  into 
'  a  deep  sleep  ;  but  it  is  very  difficult  to  keep  it 


J30 


REPENTANCE. 


[Ser.  XXXVI. 


from  starting-  and  waking.  Wo  be  to  them 
who  throw  it  into  a  dead  sleep  to  wake  no 
more !  But  when  it  awakes,  how  dreadful 
.loes  it  arise  from  its  sleep  .-'  What  blows  does 
it  strike  !  What  wounds  does  it  make  !  What 
pains  and  horrors  does  it  excite,  when  it  says 
to  aeinner,  Miserable  wretch  !  what  hast  thou 
done  ?  from  what  dignity  art  thou  fallen  ! 
into  what  deep  disgrace  and  distress  art  thou 
plunged  !  '  My  punishment  is  greater  than  I 
can  bear!  Mountains !  cover  me  !  Hills!  fall 
upon  me,'  Gen.  iv.  V.i;  Hos  x.  8.  Ah!  ye 
empty  sounds  of  worldly  pleasure  !  ye  tumul- 
tuous assemblies !  ye  festal  and  amusive 
scenes  !  how  feeble  are  ye  against  an  enemy 
60  formidable  !  It  is  repentance  only,  it  is  only 
o-odly  sorrow  that  can  disarm  conscience.  A 
soul  reconciled  to  God,  a  soul  made  to  hear 
this  comfortable  language,  '  thy  sins  be  for- 
given thee,'  Matt,  ix.  2,  passes,  so  to  speak, 
all  on  a  sudden  from  a  kind  of  hell  to  a  sort 
of  heaven  ;  it  feels  that  '  peace  of  God  which 
passeth  all  understanding,'  Phil.  iv.  7  ;  it  enters 
into  that  'joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory,' 
1  Pet.  i.  8,  which  has  supported  the  greatest 
saints  under  the  most  infamous  calumnies 
that  ever  were  invented  to  blacken  them,  and 
the  sharpest  punishments  that  ever  were  de- 
vised to  torment  them. 

3.  In  fine,  godly  sorroin  reconciles  us  to 
death.  While  we  live  without  repentance, 
vea,  while  there  remains  any  doubt  of  the 
sincerity  or  truth  of  our  repentance,  how  can 
we  sustain  the  thoughts  of  a  just  tribunal,  an 
exact  register,  an  impartial  sentence,  all 
ready  to  unfold  and  decree  our  future  fate  ? 
How  can  we  hear  this  summons,  '  Give  an 
account  of  thy  stewardship  ':'  Luke  xvi.  2. 
Godly  sorrow,  reconciles  us  to  this  enemy, 
'  the  sting  of  death  is  sin,'  1  Cor.  xv.  55,  and 
sin  has  no  sting  for  a  penitent.  Death  appears 
to  tlie  repenting  sinner  as  a  messenger  of 
.^racc,sent  to  conduct  him  to  a  merciful  God, 
and  to  open  to  iiim  ineffable  felicity  flowing 
from  boundless  mercy- 

Ah!  my  brethren,"  would  to  God  it  were 
as  easy  to  prove  that  you  bear  the  marks  of 
true  repentance,  as  it  is  to  display  its  prero- 
gatives !  But  alas  ! — I  dare  not  even  move 
this  question — And  yet  what  wait  you  around 
the  pulpit  for.?  ^Vlly  came  you  to  heir  this 
sermon  .■'  Woiild  you  have  me  to  close  the  so- 
lemnity as  usual  l)y  sujiposing  that  you  have 
understood  all,  and  referred  all  to  the  true 
design;  tliat  last  week  you  all  very  seriously 
examined  yo\w  own  hearts  ;  that  you  all  pre- 
pared for  the  table  of  the  Lord  hy  adopting 
such  dispositions  as  this  holy  ceremony 
requires  of  you ;  that  this  morning  you  all 
received  the  communion  with  such  zeal,  fer- 
vour, and  love,  as  characterize  worthy  com- 
municants ;  tliat  in  the  preceding  exercise 
you  all  poured  out  your  hearts  before  God  in 
irratitude  and  praise  ;  and  tliat  nothing  re- 
mains now  but  to  congratulate  you  on  the 
holiness  and  happiness  of  your  state." 

But  tell  me,  in  what  period  of  your  lives  (I 
speak  not  of  you  all,  for  thanks  be  to  God,  I 
see  many  true  penitents  in  this  assembly; 
men,  wlio  '  shine  as  lights  in  the  midst  of  a 


crooked  and  perverse  nation,'  Phil.  ii.  15,  and 
who  may  perhaps  have  obtained  to-day  by 
the  fervour  of  their  zeal  forbearance  for  all 
the  rest.  But  I  speak  of  a  great  number, 
and  of  them  I  askj,  In  what  period  of  your 
lives  were  "you  in  possession  of  all  those  cha- 
racters of  godly  sorrow,  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking .'' 

Was  it  in  your  closet .''  What !  that  trifling 
examination,  that  rapid  reading,  those  super- 
ficial regrets,  those  hasty  resolutions,  was 
this  your  course  of  repentance  .' 

Was  it  in  company.'  But  what!  that  com- 
merce with  the  world,  in  which  you  were 
not  distinguished  from  other  worldlings,  and 
where  after  the  example  of  your  company  you 
put  on  their  livery,  and  pursued  their  pleas- 
ures, was  this  your  course  of  repentance  .-' 

Was  it  at  the  table  of  Jesus  Christ .''  But 
what  I  those  communions,  to  which  you 
came  rather  to  acquire  by  some  slight  exer- 
cises of  devotion  a  right  to  commit  more  sin, 
than  to  lament  what  you  had  committed ; 
those  communions,  which  you  concluded  as 
indevoully  as  you  began  ;  those  communions, 
that  produced  no  reformation  in  you  as  men 
of  the  world,  members  of  the  church,  or  of 
private  families ;  those  communions,  after 
which  you  were  as  proud,  as  implacable,  as 
sordid,  as  voluptuous,  as  envious,  as  before; 
do  these  communions  constitute  the  course 
of  your  repentance  ? 

Perhaps,  we  may  repent,  when  we  are  dy- 
ing !  What !  a  forced  submission  ;  an  atten- 
tion extorted  in  spite  of  ourselves  by  the  pray- 
ers and  exhortations  of  a  zealous  minister  ; 
resolutions  inspired  by  fear  ;  can  this  be  a 
safe  course  of  repentance  .'' 

Ah !  my  brethren,  it  would  be  better  to 
turn  our  hopes  from  the  past ;  for  past  times 
otfer  only  melancholy  objects  to  most  of  us, 
and  to  confine  our  attention  to  future,  or  ra- 
ther to  the  present  moments,  which  afford  us 
more  agreeable  objects  of  contemplation.  O 
may  the  present  proofs,  the  glorious  proofs, 
which  God  gives  us  to-day  of  his  love,  make 
everlasting  impressions  upon  our  hearts  and 
minds!  INIay  the  sacred  table,  of  which  we 
have  this  morning  participated,  be  for  ever 
before  our  eyes!  May  this  object  every 
where  follow  us,  and  may  it  every  where 
protect  us  from  all  those  temptations  to 
which  a  future  conversation  with  the  world 
may  expose  us  !  May  our  prayers,  our  reso- 
lutions, our  oaths,  never  be  effaced  from  our 
memories  1  jMay  we  renew  our  prayers,  reso- 
lutions, vows,  and  oaths,  this  moment  with 
all  our'liearts  !  Let  each  of  us  close  this  solem- 
nity by  saying,  '  Thou  art  my  portion,  O 
Lord!  I  have  said,  that  I  would  keep  thy 
words !  I  have  sworn,  and  I  will  perform  it, 
that  I  will  keep  thy  righteous  judgments,'  Ps. 
xix.  57.  WG.  I  have  sworn  to  be  more  exact 
in  all  thy  service,  more  attentive  to  thy  voice, 
more  sensible  to  thine  exhortations.  And  to 
unite  all  my  wishes  in  one.  may  that  sincerity, 
and  integrity,  with  which  we  take  aiis 
oath, be  accompanied  with  all  the  divi  le  as- 
sistance, which  is  necessary  to  enable  us  ne- 
ver, never  to  violate  it.    Amen  and  Amen  ! 


.SERMON  XXXVII. 


ASSURANCE. 


ROMANS  vii.  38,  39, 

I  am  persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities, 
nor  powers,  tior  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth, 
nor  any  other,  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  ns  from  the  love  of  Godf 
which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord. 

It  is  a  circumstance  of  sacred  liistory  well 
worthy  of  our  reflections,  my  brethren,  that 
Moses  and  Joshua,  being  yet,  the  one  beyond 
Jordan,  the  other  hardly  on  the  frontiers  of 
Palestine,  disposed  of  that  country  as  if  they 
had  already  subdued  it.  They  made  laws 
concerning  kings,  subjects,  priests,  and 
Levites ;  they  distributed  towns  and  pro- 
vinces ,  and  they  described  the  boundaries  of 
every  tribe.  It  should  seem,  their  battles 
had  been  all  fought,  and  they  had  nothing 
remaining  now  but  the  pleasure  of  enjoying 
the  fruit  of  their  victories.  Yet  war  is  un- 
certain, and  the  success  of  one  day  does  not 
always  ensure  the  success  of  the  next. 
Hence  the  ancient  proverb,  '  Let  not  him 
that  girdetli  on  his  harness,  boast  himself  as 
he  thai  putteth  it  off,'  1    Kings  xx.  11. 

Certainly,  my  brethren,  these  leaders  of 
the  people  of  God  would  have  been  charge- 
able with  rashness,  had  they  founded  their 
hopes  only  on  their  own  resolution  and  cou- 
rage, had  they  attacked  their  enemies  only 
'  with  a  sword   and  with  a  spear  ;    but   they 

went  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  of  hosts,  the 

God  of  the  armies  of  Israel,'  1  Sam.  xvii.  45, 

for  he  had  said  to  them,  '  Arise,  and   go,  for 

I  do  give  this  land  to  the  children  of  Israel,' 

Josh.  i.  2.     Resting-  on  these  promises,  and 

possessing  that 'faith,  which  is  the  substance 

of  things   ho[)ed   for,    and    the   evidence   of 

things    not  seen,'  Heb.  xi.  1,   they  thought 

themselves  in   the   land  of   promise  ;    they 

tasted  the  milk  and  honey,  and  enjoyed  all 

the  privileges  of  it. 

Christians,  there  is  a  greater  distance  be- 
tween heaven  and  earth  ;  than  there  was  be- 
tween the  wilderness  and  the  land  of  promise. 

There  are  more  difficulties  to  surmount  to  ar- 
rive at  salvation,  than  there  were  formerly 

to  arrive  at  Canaan.     Notwithstanding,  my 

text  is  the  language   of  a  Christian   soldier, 

yet  in  (urms,   yet  resisting   flesh    and  blood, 

yet  surrounded  by  innumerable  enemies  con- 
spiring against  his  soul ;  behold  him  assured, 

triumphing,  defying  all  the  creatures  of  the 

universe  to  deprive  him  of  salvation.     But 

be   not  surprised  at  his  firmness  ;  the  angel 

of  the  Lord  fights  for  him,  and  says  to  him, 

'  Arise,  and  go,  for  I  do  give  the  land  to  thee,' 

Josh.  i.  3  ;  and  his  triumphant  song  is  full  of 

wisdom,  '  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither  'Li:th, 

nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor   principalities,  nor 

powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  thing's  to 
come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other 
creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.' 


Let  us  examine  the  steadfastness  of  St. 
Paul,  and  let  the  words  of  our  text  decide 
two  disputed  points.  Some  divines  pretend, 
that  believers  ought  always  to  remain  in  a 
state  of  doubt  and  uncertainty  concerninu* 
their  salvation.  Oui  first  dispute  is  with 
them  Our  second  is  with  some  false  Chris- 
tians, who,  pretending  that  assurance  of  sal- 
vation is  taught  in  the  holy  Scriptures,  arro- 
gate to  themselves  the  consolations  afforded 
by  this  doctrine,  even  while  they  live  in  prac- 
tices, inconsistent  with  a  state  of  regenera- 
tion. With  a  view  to  both,  we  will  divide 
this  discourse  into  two  general  parts.  In 
the  first  we  will  prove  this  proposition  ;  a  be- 
liever i;. ay  arrive  at  such  a  degree  of  holiness 
as  to  be  assured  of  his  salvation.  '  I  am  per- 
suaded,' says  St.  Paul ;  he  does  not  say,  I 
think,  I  presume,  I  conjecture  :  but  '  I  am 
persuaded,'  I  am  assured,  '  that  neither  death 
nor  life  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord.'  In  the  second  place,  we  will  prove, 
that  no  one  has  a  right  to  assure  himself  of 
his  salvation,  any  farther  than  he  has  a  right 
to  assure  himself,  that  he  sliall  persevere  in 
faith  and  obedience.  1  am  persuaded  ;  ol' 
what?  Is  it  that,  live  how  I  will,  I  shall  be 
saved .''  No.  But  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither 
death  nor  life  shall  separate  me  from  the  love 
of  God  ,;  that  is  to  say,  I  am  persuaded,  I 
shall  triumph  over  all  temptations.  The  first 
of  these  articles  shall  be  directed  to  confirm 
our  consciences,  and  to  explain  our  divinity. 
The  second  to  justify  our  morality,  and  to 
destroy  thftt  false  system  of  confidence  which 
carnal  security  aims  to  establish. 

I.  A  believer  may  carry  his  faith  and 
holiness  to  a  degree  which  Avill  assure  him  of 
his  salvation.  This  is  our  first  proposition, 
and  there  is  as  much  necessity  of  explaining 
it  clearly  as  of  solidly  proving'  the  truth  of 
it ;  for  if  there  bean  article,  diat  is  rendered 
obscure  by  disputes  about  words,  and  by  the 
false  consequences  which  different  authors 
impute  to  each  other,  it  is  certainly  this.  If 
we  clearly  state  the  question,  and  omit  what 
is  not  essential  to  tho  subject,  although  it 
may  have  some  distant  relation  to  it,  we  shall 
preclude  a  great  many  difficulties,  and  the 
truth  will  establish  itself 

First,  then,  when  we  affirm,  there  is  such  a 
blessing  as  assurance  of  salvation,  we  do 
not  mean  that  assurance  is  a  duty  imposed 
on  all  mankind,  so  that  every  one,  in  what 
state  soever  he  may  be,  ought  to  be  fully 
persuaded  of  his  salvation,  and  by  this  per- 


332 


ASSURANCE. 


[Ser.  XXXVII. 


suasion  to  begin  iiis  Christianity.  We  are 
well  assured,  that  all  those  who  are  out  of 
the  road  of  truth  and  virtue,  can  have  no 
other  assurance  than  what  is  false,  rash, 
and  injurious  to  religion.  By  this  we  get 
rid  of  all  those  calumnies,  by  which  some 
attempt  to  blacken  our  doctrine.  It  has 
been  pretended,  that  we  require  false  Chris- 
tians, wicked  and  abandoned  people,  per- 
:iiting  in  error  tand  vice  to  believe  that  they 
are  justified,  and  that  they  have  nothnig 
more  to  do,  in  order  to  arrive  at  salvation, 
than  to  persuade  themselves  that  they  shall 
be  saved.  Indeed  we  allow,  obligations  to 
faith  and  holiness,  by  which  we  arrive  at 
assurance,  lie  upon  all  men,  even  the  most 
unbelieving  and  profane  ;  but  while  they  per- 
sist in  unbelief  and  profaneness,  we  endea- 
vour to  destroy  their  pretences  to  assurance 
and  salvation 

2.  We  do  lot  affirm,  that  all  Christians, 
even  they  who  may  be  sincere  Christians, 
but  of  whose  sincerity  there  may  be  some 
doubt,  have  a  right  to  assurance.  Assurance 
of  our  jus'-ficcion  depends  on  assurance  of 
our  bearing  the  characters  of  justified  per- 
sons. As  a  Christian  ir  his  state  of  infancy 
and  -noviciate,  can  he  '  only  mixed  and 
doubtful  evi<l:'nces  of  liis  Christianity,  so  he 
can  have  onl>  mixed  and  doubtful  evidences 
of  his  certainty  of  salvation.  In  this  manner 
we  rep]v  t  those  who  reproach  us  with 
optriiUg  a  broad  way  to  heaven  not  autho- 
rized by  the  word  of  God. 

3.  Less  still  do  v- :  ^Hrm,  that  thej' wlio 
tor  a  considerable  tini-  ueemed  to  give  great 
proof  of  '.  eir  faith  sm'  love,  but  who  have 
since  f>i.  u  back  into  sin,  and  seem  as  if 
they  woulc  continue  in  it  for  the  remaining- 
part  of  life,  ought,  in  virtue  of  their  former 
apparent  acts  of  piety,  to  persuade  them- 
selves that  they  shall  be  saved.  Far  from 
pretending  that  these  people  ought  to  arro- 
gate to  themselves  the  prerogatives  of  truo 
believers,  we  aflirm,  tlicy  were  never  partak- 
ers of  the  first  principles  of  true  religion,  ac- 
cording to  this  saying  of  an  apostle,  '  If  they 
had  been  of  us,  they  would  no  doubt  have 
continued  with  us,'  1  John  ii.  19.  In  this 
manner  we  reply  to  the  difilculties,  which 
some  passages  of  Scripture  seem  to  raise 
against  our  doctrine  ;  as  this  of  St.  Paul,  '  It 
is  impossible  for  those  who  were  once  en- 
lightened, and  have  tasted  of  the  heavenly 
gift,  and  i-ere  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
if  they  shall  fall  away,  to  renew  them  aa;ain 
to  repentanc?,'  Ileb.  vi.  4.  f>.  And  this  oi  the 
prophet,  ■  Whon  the  righteous  turneth  away 
from  his  righteousness,  and  committeth  ini- 
quity, and  doetl.  according  to  all  the  abomi- 
nations that  the  wicked  man  doeth,  shall  he 
live  .''  All  his  righteousness  that  he  hath  done, 
shall  not  be  mentioned,  in  his  trespass  shall 
he  die,'  Ezek.  xviii.  24. 

4.  We  do  not  say  that  they  who  have  ar- 
rived at  the  highest  degree  of  faith  and 
holiness,  can  be  persuaded  of  the  certainty  of 
their  salvation  in  every  period  of  their  lives. 
Piety,  even  the  piety  of  the  most  eminent 
saints,  is  sometimes  under  an  eclipse.  Con- 
sequently, assurance,  which  piety  alone  can 
produce,  must  be  subject  to  eclipses  too. 
Thus  we  answer  objections  taken  from  such 


cases  as  that  of  David.  After  he  had  killed 
Uriah,  he  was  given  up  to  continual  remorse  ; 
the  shade  of  Uuriah,  says  Josephus,  all  cover- 
ed with  gore,  for  ever  haunted  him,  broke  his 
bones,  and  made  him  cry  most  earnestly  for 
a  restoration  of  the  joy  of  Salvation,  Ps.li.  8. 
12.  In  some  such  circumstances  the  prophet 
Asaph  was,  when  he  exclaimed,  '  Will  the 
Lord  cast  off  for  ever  .''  and  will  he  be  favour- 
able no  more  ?  Hath  God  forgotten  to  be 
gracious  ?  Hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his  ten- 
der mercies .'"  Ps.  Ixxvii.  7.  9.  These  were 
moments  of  suspension  of  divine  love  ;  these 
were  the  sad  remains  of  sin  in  these  holy 
men. 

5.  We  do  not  say  that  the  greatest  saints 
have  any  right  to  persuade  tiiemselves  of  the 
certainty  of  their  salvation  in  case  they  were 
to  cease  to  love  God.  Certainty  of  salvation, 
supposes  perseverance  in  the  way  of  salvation. 
Thus  we  replv  to  objections  taken  from  the 
words  of  St.  Paul,  '  I  keep  under  my  bodj', 
and  bring  it  into  subjection,  lest  that  by  any 
means,  when  I  have  preached  to  others,  I 
myself  should  be  a  cast  away,'  1  Cor.  ix.  27. 
We  are  persuaded  St.  Paul,  all  holy  as  he 
was.  had  he  ceased  to  have  been  holy,  would 
have  been  ob'iged  to  doubt  of  his  salvation. 
Thus  also  we  account  for  the  threatenings 
which  are  denounced  in  Scripture,  and  for 
this  command  of  an  apostle,  '  Give  diligence 
to  make  your  calling  and  election  sure,"  2 
Pet.  i.  10.  And  by  this  also  we  get  rid  of  the 
unjust  leproaches  which  some  cast  on  the 
doctrine  of  assurance,  as  favouring  indolence 
and  licentiousness. 

G.  We  do  not  affirm,  that  any  man,  con- 
sidered in  himself,  employing  only  his  own 
strength,  and  unassisted  by  grace,  can  hope 
to  persevere  in  holiness.  We  suppose  the 
Christian  assisted  by  the  power  of  God, 
withoUb  'vhich  no  man  can  begin  the  work  of 
salvation,  much  less  finish  it  Thus  our  doc- 
trine frees  itself  from  rashness  and  presump- 
tion. 

7.  We  do  not  pretend  to  a^r:.:  that  doubts 
exclude  men  from  salvati-  -  aith  may  be 

f  .:"ere,  where  it  is  not  stror  All  the  chil- 
dren of  Abraham  are  not  like  J  '..raham  '  fully 
persuaded.' 

Finally,  While  we  maintain  the  doctrine  of 
assurance,  we  wish  to  have  it  distinguished 
from  the  doctrine  of  perseverance.  It  is  a 
doctrine  of  our  churches,  once  a  child  of  God, 
and  always  a  child  of  God.  But,  although 
these  two  doctrines  seem  to  be  closely  con- 
nected together :  although  the  same  argu- 
ments which  establish  the  one,  may  be  of 
use  to  prove  the  other  :  yet  there  is  a  con- 
siderable difference  between  the  t\\'b.  We 
are  not  considering  to-day  so  much  the  con- 
dition of  a  Christian,  as  the  judgment  which 
he  ought  to  make  of  it.  Let  it  not  surprise 
you  then,  if,  while  wo  press  home  the  article 
of  assurance,  we  do  not  speak  much  on  the 
faithfulness  of  God  in  his  promises,  or  the  ir- 
revocable nature  of  his  eternal  decrees ;  for 
we  arc  not  inquiring  in  this  discourse,  whe- 
ther the  promises  of  God  be  faithful,  or,  whe- 
ther his  decrees  be  inviolable  :  but  whether 
we  can  arrive  at  a  persuasion  of  our  own  in- 
terest in  these  promises,  and  whether  we  be 
included  in  the  eternal  decrees  of  his  love. 


Seb.  XXXVII.] 


ASSURANCE. 


333 


Our  question  is  not,  May  true  believers  fall 
away  into  endless  perdition  ?  but,  Have  we 
any  evidence  that  we  are  among  tlie  number 
of  those  saints  who  can  never  perish  ? 

These  elucidations  and  distinctions  are  suf- 
ficient at  present.  Were  we  to  compose  a 
treatise  on  the  subject,  it  would  be  necessary 
to  explain  each  article  more  fully  :  but  in  a 
single  sermon  they  can  only  be  just  mention- 
ed. These  hints,  we  hope,  are  sufficient  to 
give  you  a  clear  state  of  the  question,  and  a 
just  notion  of  the  doctrine  of  our  churches. 
We  do  not  say  every  man,  but  a  believer; 
not  every  pretended  believer,  but  a  true  be- 
liever ;  not  a  believer  in  a  state  of  infancy 
and  noviciate,  but  a  confirmed  believer;  not  a 
believer  who  backslides  from  his  profession, 
but  one  who  perseveres ;  not  a  believer  du- 
ring his  falls  into  sin,  but  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  his  life;  not  a  believer  considered 
in  himself,  and  left  to  his  own  efforts,  but  a 
believer  supported  by  that  divine  aid  Vv-hich 
God  never  refuses  to  those  who  ask  it ;  such 
a  believer,  we  say,  may  pcrsvade  himself,  not 
only  that  the  promises  of  God  are  faithful, 
and  that  his  decrees  are  irrevocable,  but  that 
he  is  of  the  number  of  those  whom  faithful 
promises  and  immutable  decrees  secure.  Not 
that  we  pretend  to  e.vclude  from  salvation 
those  who  have  not  obtained  the  highest  de- 
gree of  assurance :  but  we  consider  it  as  a 
state  to  which  each  Christian  ought  to  aspire, 
a  privilege  that  every  one  should  endeavour  to 
obtain.  It  is  not  enough  to  advance  this  pro- 
position, we  must  endeavour  to  establish  it  on 
solid  proof. 

We  adduce  in  proof  of  this  article,  first,  the 
experience  of  holy  men  ;  next,  the  nature  of 
regeneration  ;  then,  the  privileges  of  a  Ciiris- 
tian  ;  and  lastly,  the  testimony  of  tlie  Holy 
Spirit ;  each  of  which  we  will  briefly  ex- 
plain. 

1.  We  allege  the  crpcrirnce  of  holy  men. 
A  long  list  of  men  persuaded  of  their  salva- 
tion might  here  be  given.  A  few  follow. 
Job  says,  *  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth, 
and  though  after  my  skin,  worms  destroy  tliis 
body,  yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  God,  whom 
I  shall  see  for  myself,'  chap.  xix.  2o — 27. 
David  says,  '  O  Lord,  deliver  my  sonl  from 
men  of  the  world,  who  have  their  portion  in 
this  life.  As  forme,  I  will  behold  t!iy  face  in 
righteousness,  I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I 
awake  witli  thy  likeness,'  Ps.  xvii.  11,  ].'>.  So 
Asaph,  '  It  is  my  happiness  to  draw  near  to 
God.  I  am  continually  with  tliec,  thou  hast 
liolden  me  by  thj'  right  hand.  Thou  shall 
guide  me  with  thy  counsel,  and  afterward 
receive  me  to  glory,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  28,  2.i,  24. 
But  not  to  multiply  examples,  let  us  content 
ourselves  with  the  vi'ords  of  the  text,  and  in 
order  to  feel  the  force  of  them,  Ictus  explain 
them. 

'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  us  from  the  love  of 
God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.' 
Wiiat  is  this  love  of  God,  of  which  our  apos- 
tle speaks  f  The  expression  is  equivocal.  It 
either  signifies  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ  to  us, 
or  our  love  to  him.     ]5oth  come  to  the  same  ; 

2  U 


for  as  St.  Paul  could  not  persuade  himself 
that  God  would  always  love  him,  without  at 
tlie  same  time  assuring  himself  that  he  should 
always  love  God  ;  nor  that  he  should  always 
love  God,  without  persuading  himself  that 
God  would  always  love  him  ;  so  that  it  is  in- 
different which  sense  we  take,  for  in  either 
sense  the  apostle  means  by  the  love  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesus,  his  communion  with  God  in 
Jesus  Christ.  What  does  ho  say  of  this  com- 
munion ?  He  says,  he  is  '  persuaded,  that  nei- 
ther death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principa- 
lities, nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor 
things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any 
other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  it.' 
This  enumeration  includes  all,  and  leaves  no 
room  for  addition.  In  effect,  what  are  the 
most  formidable  enemies  that  conspire  against 
our  souls  ? 

Are  they  the  sophisms  with  which  Satan 
gives  a  gloss  to  error.'  There  is  an  art  of  en- 
veloping the  truth  ;  there  is  a  superficial 
glare  that  may  render  false  religions  proba- 
ble, and  may  dazzle  the  eyes  of  inquirers.  St. 
Paul  defies  not  only  the  most  accomplished 
teachers,  and  the  most  refined  sophists :  but 
the  very  devils  also,  neither  angels,  says  he, 
that  is,  fallen  angels. 

Are  they  the  dissipations  of  life,  which  by 
filling  all  the  capacity  of  the  soul,  often  de- 
prive it  of  the  liberty  of  working  out  his  sal- 
vation .■*  or  are  they  the  approaches  of  death, 
the  gloom  of  which  intercepts  the  light  and 
obscures  the  rays  of  the  Sun  of  righteous- 
ness ?  St.  Paul  is  superior  to  both,  '  neither 
death,  nor  life,'  says  he. 

Are  they  worldly  pomps  and  grandeurs  .-* 
A  certain  love  of  elevation,  inseparable  from 
our  minds,  prejudices  us  in  favour  of  what- 
ever presents  itself  to  us  under  the  idea  of 
grandeur.  St.  Paul  dares  all  the  pomps,  and 
all  the  jjotentates  in  the  world,  '  neither  prin- 
cipalities, nor  powers,  nor  height,'  adds  he. 

Are  the  impressions  that  present  objects 
always  make  on  us  enemies  to  us.''  The  idea 
of  a  present  benefit  weighs  much  with  us 
The  sacrifice  of  the  present  to  the  future  is 
the  most  difijcult  of  all  the  efforts  of  our 
hearts.  St.  Paul  knows  the  art  of  rendering 
present  objects  future,  and  of  annihilating 
the  present,  if  I  may  venture  to  say  so,  by 
])laclug  it  in  future  j)ro.spect ;  '  neither  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come.' 

Are  they  the  most  cruel  torments.'  How 
difficult  is  it  to  resist  pain  I  In  violent  sensa- 
tions of  i)ain  the  soul  itself  retires  into  conceal- 
ment, and  surrounded  with  excruciating  ma- 
ladies can  scarcely  support  itself  by  reflection. 
St.  Paul  can  resist  all  torment,  '  distress  and 
l)ersecution,  famine  and  nakedness,  jicril  and 
sword.' 

Is  contempt  an  enemy  .'  Many  who  have 
withstood  all  otiier  trials,  have  sunk  under 
that  unjust  scandal  which  often  covers  the 
ciiildren  of  God  in  this  world.  St.  Paul  en- 
tertained rectified  ideas  of  glory,  and  found 
grnndeur  in  the  deepest  abasement,  when  re- 
ligion reduced  him  to  it.  '  Neither,'  says  he, 
'  shall  death  be  able  to  separate.'  '  I  am 
persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor 
angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor 
things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height, 
nor  depth  ;"  and  lest  the  imperfection  of  his 


a.34 


ASSURA>X'E. 


[Set?.  XXXVIJ. 


enumeration  sliouTd  orcite  any  suspicion 
conccrninfr  his  persevernnf.e,  lie  adds,  'nor 
an}'  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  poparate 
IIS  from  the  love  of  God  which  is  in  Clirist 
■Tesus  otir  Lord.' 

In  vain  it  will  be  ohjented,  t.lia*  this  assu- 
rance was  grounded  on  some  extraordinary 
fovelation,  and  on  some  privileges  peculiar 
to  the  apostles  ;  for  it  is  clear  by  the  prece- 
ding verses,  that  the  apostle  f.;roun<ls  his  as- 
Kurance  of  salvation  on  promises  made  to  all 
the  church.  On  this  account  some  duties 
are  enjoined  on  all  Christians,  which  suppose 
that  all  Christians  may  arrive  at  this  assu- 
rance ;  these  duties  are  thanksgivinnf,  joy, 
and  hope.  Nothing  then,  can  invalidate  our 
arguments  drawn  from  the  examples  of  holy 
men.  Thus  the  question  of  assurance  is  not 
a  question  of  right,  subject  to  objections  and 
difficulties  :  it  is  a  question  of  fact,  explain- 
ed by  an  event,  and  decided  by  experience. 

2.  Let  us  attend  to  the  nature  of  regenera- 
tion. A  regenerate  man  is  not  one  who 
lightly  determines  his  choice  of  a  religion; 
he  is  not  a  child  tossed  to  and  fro,  and  carri- 
ed about  with  every  wind  of  doctrine,  Eph.  iv. 
14  ;  but  he  is  a  man  who  has  studied  Chris- 
tianity, weighed  its  arguments,  seen  its  evi- 
dences, and  felt  all  their  force,  so  that  he  is 
persuaded  by  demonstration,  that  there  is  a 
God,  a  providence,  another  life,  a  judgment, 
a  heaven,  a  hell,  and  so  on. 

A  regenerate  man  is  one.  Vv'ho,  by  continu- 
al meditations  and  pious  actions,  has  sur- 
mounted his  natural  propensities  to  sin.  He 
is  a  man,  whose  constitution,  so  to  speak,  is 
jipw  cast  and  refined,  so  that  instead  of  being 
inwardly  carried  away  to  sin  by  his  own  vio- 
lent passions,  he  is  inwardly  moved  to  the 
practice  of  piety  and  virtue. 

A  regenerate  man  is  one,  who  in  pious  ex- 
ercises, has  experienced  that  satisfaction 
■which  a  rational  mind  tastes,  when  inward 
t-onsciousnesg  attests  a  harmony  between 
destiny  and  duty.  He  is  a  man,  v,ho  has 
folt  '  that  peace  which  passeth  ail  understand- 
ing ;  that  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory,' 
Phil.  iv.  7  ;  I  Pet.  i.  8,  which  the  presence  of 
God  produces  in  the  soul.  He  is  a  man, 
whose  life  has  abounded  with  those  happy 
periods,  in  which  the  soul  loses  sijrht  of  the 
World,  holds  communion  with  its  God,  fore- 
T.-istos  eternal  felicity,  finds  itself,  as  St. 
Paul  expresses  it,  '  raised  up  from  the  dead, 
and  made  to  sit  in  heavenly  places  with 
Christ  Jesus,'  Eph.  ii.  6. 

A  regenerate  man  is  one  who  has  medita- 
ted on  the  attributes  of  God,  his  wisdom,  his 
omnipresence,  and  his  justice;  and  particu- 
larly on  those  depths  of  mercy  whicli  incli- 
ned hiin  to  redeem  a  fallen  "world,  and  to 
ransom  it  by  a  sacrifice,  the  bare  idea  of 
which  confounds  imagination,  and  absorbs 
all  thought. 

A  reffOnorate  man  is  one,  whose  own  ideas 
of  God  have  produced  love  to  him,  a  love  the 
more  fervent  becau.se  it  is  founded  on  his 
own  perfections  and  excellencies,  a  '  love 
strong  as  death,  a  love  that  many  waters 
cannot  quench,  neither  can  the  floods  drown,' 
Cant.  viii.  G.  7. 

^  This  is  a  fair  account  of  a  regenerate  man. 
Now.it  is  certain,  such  a  man  has  a  right  to 


be  persuaded  that  he  shall  triumph  over  all 
liis  temptations  ;  he  may  say, '  I  am  persuad- 
ed that  no  creature  shall  separate  me  from 
the  love  of  God.' 

Let  us  consider  things  at  the  worst  with 
this  man.  It  may  liappen  to  him,  that  a  com- 
plex sojihism,  or  an  ingenious  objection,  may 
for  a  moment  becloud  his  faith,  and  excite 
some  doubt  in  his  mind  ;  but  as  we  suppose 
him  enlightened,  guarded,  and  grounded  in 
the  truth,  it  is  impossible  his  persuasion  of 
these  great  truths,  truths  so  well  understood 
and  established,  should  ever  be  totally  effaced 
from  his  mind. 

Indeed  it  may  happen,  that  such  a  man 
through  a  revolt  of  his  senses,  or  a  revolution 
of  his  spirits,  may  fall  into  some  excesses: 
but  as  his  constitutional  turn  is  reformed,  his 
propensity  to  sin  surmounted,  and  his  habits 
of  piety  establislied,  it  is  impossible  he  should 
not  know  that  his  senses  and  spirits  will  re- 
turn to  their  usual  calm. 

It  may  happen,  that  such  a  man  throngh 
I  the  allurement  of  a  present  pleasure,  through 
the  enticement  of  a  temptation,  through  the 
false  attractives  of  the  world,  may  for  a  few 
moments  be  imposed  on,  and  betrayed  away: 
but  a  remembrance  of  the  pleasures  of  piety, 
a  contrast  between  them  and  the  pleasures  of 
the  world,  will  soon  recover  him  to  such  re- 
ligious exercises  as  before  gave  him  real 
pleasures  and  pure  joy. 

Remark  here,  that  by  proposing  this  reason-' 
ing,  we  have  granted  our  opponents  all  which 
they  can  reasonably  require  ;  we  have  placed 
things  at  the  worst.  But,  including  all  our 
ideas,  we  alFirm,  the  principles  of  regeneration 
are  such,  that  he  who  possesses  them,  will 
not  only  arise  from  his  falls,  should  he  some- 
times tall  into  sin  under  violent  temptations  ; 
but  he  will  avail  himself  of  these  very  temp- 
tations to  confirm  his  faith  and  obedience. 
The  same  objects  produce  different  effects, 
according  to  the  different  dispositions  of  the 
persons  to  whom  they  are  oiiered.  What 
serves  to  confirm  a  wicked  man  in  sin,  serves 
to  confirm  a  good  man  in  virtue,  and,  if  he 
has  fallen,  to  reclaim  him  to  God. 

Propose  to  a  regenerate  man  the  most  art- 
ful sophism  of  error,  he  will  take  occasion 
from  it  to  attach  himself  more  earnestly  to 
the  study  of  truth ;  he  will  increase  his 
knowledge,  and  he  will  never  find  a  more 
sincere  attachment  to  religion  than  after  dis- 
covering the  nullity  of  the  objections  that 
are  made  against  it.  Surround  him  with 
worldly  pomp,  it  will  elevate  his  mind  to  that 
glory  which  God  has  reserved  tor  his  children 
in  the  other  world.  Put  him  in  a  state  of 
meanness  and  misery,  it  will  detach  him  from 
the  world,  and  enliven  him  in  searching  feli- 
city in  another  life.  Lay  iiim  on  a  death-bed, 
even  there  he  will  triumph  over  all.  The 
veils  that  concealed  the  supremo  good  from 
him,  will  begin  to  fall  in  pieces,  and  he  will 
become  inflamed  with  the  desire  of  possessing 
it.  Suppose  him  even  fallen  into  sin,  an  ex- 
perience of  his  f  ailty  will  animate  him  to 
vigilance  ;  he  will  hereafter  doubly  guard 
the  weak  passes  of  his  soul;  and  thus  he  will 
gain  by  his  losses,  and  triumph  in  his  very 
defeats. 

]t  is  too  little  to  S3V,  '  No  creature  shall 


SxR.  XXXVII.  j 


ASSURANCE. 


separate  him  from  the  love  of  God ;'  all  crea- 
tures shall  serve  to  unite  him  more  closely 
to  his  Lord.  Thus  St.  Paul  says, '  All  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love 
God  ;  in  all  things  we  are  more  than  con- 
querors tiirough  him  that  loved  us,'  Rom.  viii. 
28.  37.  Observe  these  expressions,  not  only 
nothing  can  hurt  a  true  believer  :  but  '  all 
things  work  together  for  his  good;'  not  only, 
we  ai  e  conquerors  .-  but  we  are  '  more  than 
conquerors  through  him  that  loved  us.'  No- 
thing is  hyperbolical  here.  Every  thing'  ac- 
tually contributes  to  the  salvation  of  a  be- 
liever. In  this  sense  '  all  are  his,  Paul, 
Cephas,  and  the  world,'  1  Cor.  iii.  22.  In 
this  sense  he  '  spoileth  principalities  and 
powers,  and,  like  his  Saviour,  '  makes  a  show 
of  them  openly,'  Col.  ii.  1.5.  And  this  is  a  reason 
for  a  believer's  continual  joy,  because,  in 
whatever  circumstances  Providence  may 
place  him,  all  conduct  him  to  the  one  great 
end.  Were  his  chief  aim  health,  sickness 
would  deprive  him  of  it ;  were  it  elevation, 
meanness  would  tiiwart  him;  were  it  riches, 
poverty  would  counteract  his  design :  but  as 
his  chief  aim  is  salvation,  all  things,  sickness 
and  health,  majesty  and  meanness,  poverty 
and  riches,  all  contribute  to  his  salvation. 
'  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor 
life,  nor  angels,  nor  principRlities,  nor  powers, 
nor  any  other  creature  shall  be  able  to  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ 
Jeaus  our  Lord.  All  things  work  together 
lor  good  to  them  that  love  God.  We  are 
more  than  conquerors  through  him  that  hath 
loved  us.' 

The  prerogatives  of  a  Cliristian  aft'ord  a 
third  class  of  arguments  for  assurance  of 
Siilvation.  This  appears  by  two  propositions. 
A  Christian  may  know,  that  he  has  a  true 
faith.  When  a  person  is  persuaded,  that  he 
lias  a  true  faith,  he  may  assure  himself  of  ob- 
taininjg  assistance  to  persevere,  and  conse- 
quently of  arriving  at  salvatioji. 

The  first  proposition  is  incontestable.  True 
faith  has  proper  characters.  It  consists  in 
eomo  ideas  of  the  mind,  in  some  dispositions 
of  heart,  and  in  some  action  of  life,  each  of 
which  may  be  described,  if  not  with  facility, 
yet  with  certainty,  when  the  laws  of  self-ex- 
amination are  obeyed.  Tiie  Scripture  puts 
these  words  into  the  mouths  of  true  be- 
lievers :  We  know  ^hat  we  have  passed  from 
death  unto  life ;  we  know  that  we  are  of  the 
truth,  and  shall  assure  our  hearts  before  him,' 

1  John  iii.  14.  19.  Agreeably  to  which  St. 
Paul  says,  '  Hold  fast  the  conlidcnce,  and 
the  rejoicing  of  the  hope  firm  onto  the  end,' 
Heb.  iii.  6.  '  Examine  yoursclve.'?,  whether 
je  be  in  the  faith  ;  prove  your  own  selves  ; 
know  ye  not  your  own  selves,  how  tiiat  Jesus 
Christ  is  in  you,  except  ye  be  reprobates."" 

2  Cor.  xiii.  5. 

Here  lies  the  difliculty :  I  have  faitii  to-day, 
liow  can  I  assure  myself  that  1  shall  have  it 
to-morrow  .'  I  am  sure  to-day  I  am  in  a  state 
of  grace,  how  can  I  be  sure  I  shall  be  so  to- 
jnorrow  ?  Our  second  proposition  is  intended 
1o  remove  tliis difficulty.  When  we  are  sure 
faith  is  true  and  genuine,  we  may  be  sure  of 
assistance  to  persevere.  We  ground  this  on 
tlio  privileges  of  true  faith.  One  of  these  is 
,tlie  pardon  of  &I1  the  eius  that  we  have  coui- 


1  mittod  in  the  whole  course  of  our  lives,  pro- 
vided we  repent.  '  If  any  man  sin,  we  have 
an  advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ 
I  the  righteous,  and  he  is  the  propitiation  for 
our  sins,'  1  John  ii.  1.  A  second  privilege  ia 
the  acceptance  of  sincerity  instead  of  perfec- 
tion, 'A  bruised  reed  sliall  he  not  break, 
and  smoking  flax  shall  he  not  quench,'  Matt, 
xii.  20.  Another  privilege  is  supernatural 
grace  to  support  us  under  trials :  '  If  any  of 
you  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  that 
giveth  to  all  men  liberallv,'  James  i.  5.  One 
privilege  is  the  connexion  of  all  benefits  with 
the  one  great  gift,  '  God  who  spared  not  hrs 
own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all^ 
how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us 
all  things.'"  Rom.  viii.  33.  Another  privilege 
is  the  gift  of  perseverance,  *  I  will  put  my 
law  in  their  inward  parts,  and  write  it  m  their 
hearts,  and  will  be  their  God,  and  they  shall 
be  my  people,'  Jer.  xxxi.  33,  '  I  will  put  my 
spirit  within  you,  and  cause  you  to  walk  in 
my  statutes,  and  ye  shall  keep  my  judgments, 
and  do  them,'  Ezek.  xxxvi.  27.  Another 
privilege  is  an  interest  in  the  intercession  ot 
Jesus  Christ,  which  God  never  rejects.  '  Si- 
mon, Simon,  behold,  Satan  hatli  desired  to 
have  you,  that  he  may  sift  you  as  wheat : 
but  I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy  faith 
fail  not,'  Luke  xxii.  31,  32.  '  Holy  Father  '. 
keep  through  thine  own  name  those  whom 
thou  hast  given  me,  that  they  may  be  one, 
as  we  are.  Neither  pray  I  for  these  alone  ; 
but  for  them  also,  which  shall  believe  on  me 
through  their  word,'  John  xvii.  11.  20.  'I 
will  pray  the  Father,  and  he  shall  give  you 
another  comforter,  that  he  may  abide  with 
you  for  ever,  chap.  xiv.  16.  These  privileges, 
in  a  word,  consist  in  bcino-  '  loved  of  Gotl 
unto  the  end,'  chap.  xiii.  1 ;  having  been  loved 
from  the  bcgiiLnini^,  and  in  receiving  from 
God  '  gifts  and  calling  without  repentance,' 
Rom.  xi.  2;). 

Do  not  attempt,  then,  to  overwhelm  me 
with  a  sense  of  my  own  frailty  and  sin.  Do 
not  allege  my  naturid  levity  and  incon- 
stancy. Do  not  oppose  against  me  the  rapid 
moments,  in  which  my  passions  sport  with 
my  real  happiness,  and  chanirc  nie  in  an  in- 
stant from  hatred  to  love,  and  from  love  to 
hatred  a^ain.  Do  not  produce,  in  the  sad 
history  ot  my  life,  the  mortitying  list  of  so 
nmny  resolutions  forgotten,  so  many  unreal 
plans,  so  many  abortive  designs.  The  edifice 
of  my  salvation  is  proof  against  all  vicissi- 
tudes ;  it  is  in  the  hand  of  him  who  changes 
not,  who  is  '  tiie  same  yesterday  to-day  and 
for  ever,'  Heb.  xiii.  8.  To  him  I  commit  the 
preservation  of  it;  because  I  am  a  Christian, 
and  because  it  is  t!ie  privilege  of  a  Cliristian 
to  say,  according  to  the  beautiful  expression 
of  St.  Paul,  '  I  know  whom  I  have  believed, 
and  I  am  persuaded,  that  h;;  is  able  to  keep 
that  which  I  have  comtnitted  unto  him  again'cjl 
that  day,'  2  Tim.  i.  12. 

Finally,  the  inward  testijnony  of  the  Sjnrlt 
of  God  puts  the  doctrine  of  assurance  out  of 
all  doubt.  ^Ve  propose  this  ar;rument  with 
trembling,  so  excessively  has  human  fancy 
abused  it !  Enthusiasm  defiles  the  church  of 
God.  The  world,  always  fjjrtastic,  and  full 
of  visionary  soliemes,  seems-  now-a-days  to 
be  Buperannuated.    We  almost  every  where 


336 


ASSURANCE. 


[Ser.  XXXVII. 


meet  with,  wliat  shall  1  call  them  ?  weak 
heads,  or  wicked  hearts,  who,  being  des'itute 
of  solid  reasons  to  establish  their  reveries, 
impute  them  to  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  so 
charge  eternal  truth  with  fabulous  tales,  that 
make  reason  blush,  and  which  are  unworthy 
of  thcmeanest  of  mankind. 

It  is  true,  however,  tliat  the  believer  has 
in  his  heart  a  testimony  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
which  assures  him  of  his  salvation  ;  and  the 
abuse  of  this  doctrine  ought  not  to  prevent  a 
sober  use  of  it.  This  testimony  is  a  kind  of 
<iemonstration  superior  to  all  those  of  the 
schools.  It  is  an  argument  unknown  to  phi- 
losophers, and  Supreme  Wisdom  is  the  author 
of  it.  It  is  a  lively  apprehension  of  our  sal- 
vation e.\cited  in  our  hearts  by  God  himself. 
It  is  a  powerful  application  of  our  mind  to 
every  thing  that  can  prove  us  in  a  state  of 
grace.  It  is  an  effect  of  tiiat  supreme  power, 
which  sound  reason  attributes  to  God  over 
the  sensations  of  our  souls,  and  according  to 
which  he  can  e.xcite,  as  he  pleases,  joy  or 
sorrow.  It  is  a  Christian  right  founded  on 
Scripture  promises.  '  The  love  of  God  is 
shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the  Holy  Ghost, 
which  is  given  unto  us,'  Rom.  v.  5.  '  Ye 
have  not  received  the  spirit  of  bondage  again 
to  fear :  but  ye  have  received  the  spirit  of 
adoption  whereby  we  cry,  Abba,  Father. 
The  Spirit  itself  beareth  witness  with  our 
spirit,  that  we  are  the  children  of  God, 
chap.  viii.  15,  IG.  '  He  which  stablisheth  us 
with  you  in  Christ,  is  God  ;  who  hath  also 
sealed  us,  and  given  the  earnest  of  the  Spirit 
in  our  hearts,'  2  Cor.  i.  21,22.  '  Hereby  we 
know  that  he  abideth  in  us,  by  the  spirit 
■wliich  he  hath  given  us.  1  John  iii.  24.  '  To 
liim  that  overcometh,  will  I  give  a  white 
stone,  and  in  the  stone  a  new  name  written, 
which  no  man  knoweth,  saving  he  that  re- 
cciveth  it,'  Rev.  ii.  7.  We  see  the  glorious 
effects  of  these  promises  in  some  believers, 
who,  although  they  live  in  meanness  and  in- 
digence, enjoy  such  pleasures  as  all  the 
riches  and  grandeur  of  the  world  cannot  give. 
AVe  see  the  effects  of  them  in  some  d}'ing 
persons,  who,  at  the  sight  of  death,  experience 
consolations,  which  change  their  beds  of 
sickness  into  fields  of  victory  and  triumph. 
We  see  them  again  in  many  martyrs,  who 
are  happier  on  racks  and  burning  piles  than 
tyrants  on  their  tiirones,  environed  with  all 
the  possible  pomp  of  a  court. 

Such  are  the  arguments  which  establish 
the  doctrine  of  assurance.  But  shall  I  tell 
you,  my  brethren,  a  thought  that  has  run  in 
my  mind  all  tlie  time  of  this  exercise  .-'  In  our 
general  preaching,  we  fear  our  arguments 
may  seem  inconclusive,  and  may  but  half 
convince  our  auditors.  In  this  discourse  we 
have  been  afraid  they  would  appear  too  con- 
vincing, and  carry  the  subject  beyond  our 
intention.  Each  iiearer  v/ill  perhaps  indis- 
creetly arrogate  to  himself  the  particular 
privileges  of  believers.  Having,  therefore, 
preached  the  doctrine,  it  is  necessary  to 
guard  you  against  the  abuse  of  it  by  a  few 
precautions.  Having  proved  that  there  is  u 
well-grounded  assurance,  it  is  necessary  to 
attack  security,  and  to  show,  that  the  conso- 
lations which  result  from  our  doctrine,  belong 
to  the  real  Christian  only,  and  are  privileges 


to  which  unregenerate  persons,  yea,  even 
they  whose  regeneration  is  uncertain,  ought 
not  to  pretend.  We  will  not  produce  new 
objects,  we  will  consider  the  articles  that 
have  been  already  considered,  in  a  new  point 
of  light :  for  what  serves  to  establish  true 
confidence  serves  at  the  same  time  to  destroy 
carnal  security.  We  have  been  convinced, 
that  a  believer  may  assure  himself  of  his  sal- 
vation by  four  arguments,  by  the  experiences 
of  holy  men,  b_v  the  nature  of  regeneiation, 
by  the  prerogatives  of  a  Christian,  and  by 
the  testimony  of  the  holy  Spirit.  These  four 
arguments  support  what  we  just  now  affirm- 
ed ;  that  assurance  is  a  privilege,  to  which 
unregenerate  men,  :'.-,•:']  suspected  Christians, 
have  no  right,  and  ..l;us  the  sophisms  of  sin 
demonstrate  the  necessity  of  vigilance. 

II.  The  first  argument  that  establishes 
the  assurance  of  a  believer,  the  first  argu- 
ment which  we  employ  against  the  carnal  se- 
curity of  a  sinner,  is  the  experience  of  the 
saints.  Of  all  sophistical  ways  of  reasoning, 
is  there  one  that  can  compare  with  this  .'  Job, 
a  model  of  patience,  who  adored  God  under 
all  his  afflictions,  was  persuaded  of  his  salva- 
tion ;  therefore  I,  who  rage  under  triaLs,  who 
would,  if  it  were  possible,  deprive  God  of  the 
empire  of  the  world,  which  he  seems  to  mo 
to  govern  partially  and  unjustly,  I  may  per- 
suade myself  of  my  salvation.  David,  'a 
man  after  God's  own  heart,'  1  Sam.  xiii.  14, 
David,  whose  whole  '  delight  was  in  the  law 
of  the  Lord.'  Ps.  i.  2,  was  persuaded  of  his 
salvation  ;  therefore  I,  whose  every  devotion 
al  e.xercise  savours  of  nothing  but  languor 
and  lukewarmness,  I,  who  can  hardly  drag 
m3'self  to  hear  the  word  of  God,  I  may  per- 
suade myself  of  my  salvation  St.  Paul,  that 
wise  proselyte,  that  zealous  minister,  that 
bleeding  martyr,  was  persuaded  of  his  salva- 
tion ;  tlierefore  I,  who  profess  the  religion  in 
which  I  was  educated,  without  knowing  why 

it    is   hardly   worth  while   to   refute 

these  unnatural  and  inconclusive  consequen- 
ces. 

Farther,  these  eminent  saints  not  only 
avoided  grounding  their  assurance  of  salva- 
tion on  your  principles  ;  but  they  were  per- 
suaded, if  they  lived  as  you  live,  they  should 
be  consigned  to  destruction.  What  said  Job 
on  this  article  ':'  '  Let  me  be  weighed  in  an 
even  balance.  If  I  despise  the  cause  of  my 
man-servant  or  of  my  maid-servant,  if  I  have 
withheld  the  poor  from  their  desire,  or  have 
caused  the  eyes  of  the  widow  to  fail ;  If  I 
have  made  gold  my  hope,  or  have  said  to  the 
fine  gold,  thou  art  my  confidence ;  what 
then  shall  I  do  when  God  riseth  up .''  and  when 
he  visiteth,  what  shall  I  answer  him .''  chap, 
xxxi.  C.  13.  IG.  24.  14.  That  is  to  say.  If  he 
had  practised  any  of  the  vices,  or  neglected 
any  of  the  virtues,  which  he  enumerated,  God 
would  have  rejected  him.  This  now  is  your 
case ;  you  arc  haughty  towards  your  inferi- 
ors ;  if  not  cruel,  yet  strait-handed  to  the 
poor  ;  gold  is  your  god  ;  and.  consequently,  if 
your  ideas  of  assurance  be  regulated  by  those 
of  J>:b,  you  ought  not  to  persuade  yourself  of 
j^our  salvation.  What  says  St.  Paul.'  'I 
keep  under  my  body,  and  bring  it  into  sub- 
jection, lest  that  by  any  means  when  I  have 
preached  to   others,  I  myself  may  be  a  cast 


Seu.  XXXVII.] 


ASSURANCE. 


337 


away,'  I  Cor.  ix.  27.  That  is  to  say,  St. 
Paul  was  persuaded,  if  he  relaxed  his  piety, 
if  he  were  not  to  account  all  lie  had  done  no- 
thing, if  he  wore  not  to  attend  to  what  remain- 
ed lo  be  done,  God  would  reject  him.  This  is 
your  case  ;  you  live  a  hfe  of  security  and  in- 
dolence, and  making  all  your  vocation  consist 
in  barely  avoiding  notorious  crimes,  you  do 
not  even  see  the  necessity  oi"  making  a  pro- 
gress in  holiness;  consequently,  if  you  regu- 
late your  ideas  of  assurance  of  salvation  on 
'  these  of  St.  Paul,  you  ought  not  to  pretend  to 
be  sure  of  being  saved. 

Moreover,    when  these  eminent  saints  fell 
by  sudden  surprise  into  those  sins  in  which 
nominal    Christians    coolly  and   deliberately 
persist,  they  did  not  imagine,  that  a  recollec- 
tion of  forjner    virtue,  or   even  of  that  faith 
and  piety,  the  seeds  of  which  none  of  their 
falls  eradicated,    was  a   sufficient   ground  of 
solid  peace  and  joy      They  complained  they 
.    had  lost  the  'joy  of  salvation,'  Ps.  li.  14  ;  and 
under    such  complaints   they   continued    till 
)  they  were  restored  to  communion  with  God, 
J    and  till,  by  reciprocal  acts  of  love,  they  were 
[    convinced  that  sin    was   pardoned.      But  if 
these  saints,  in  some  single  improper  actions, 
reasoned  thus  ;  what  ought  to  be  the  disposi- 
tions of  those  who  consume  their  whole  lives 
in  vicious  habits  ? 

Let  ua  add  one  word  more.  What  mean 
these  words  of  my  text,  of  which  false  Chris- 
tians make  such  a  criminal  abuse  .''  '  I  am 
persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  shall 
separate.'  Does  this  text  mean  to  affirm,  if 
a  man  begin  to  surmount  temptation,  he  shall 
be  infallibly  iiaved,  although  he  cease  to  resist, 
and  temptations  prevail  over  him  in  the  end  ? 
The  words  mean  the  direct  contrary.  St. 
Paul  promises  himself,  that  he  shall  always 
believe,  not  that  he  shall  be  saved  if  he  fall 
into  infidelity,  but  that  he  shall  always  resist 
sin,  as  far  as  human  frailty  will  allow  ;  not 
that  he  shall  be  saved  if  sin  triumph  over 
him.  '  I  am  persuaded,  death  shall  not  sepa- 
rate me  from  the  love  of  God  ;'  that  is  to  say, 
the  love  of  God  has  struck  such  deep  root  in 
my  soul,  that  death  cannot  eradicate  my  love 
to  him.  '  I  am  persuaded,  life  shall  not  sepa- 
rate me  from  the  love  of  God;'  that  is,  the 
love  of  God  has  struck  such  deep  root  in  my 
soul,  that  all  the  charms  of  life  can  never 
prevent  my  loving  him.  '  I  am  persuaded 
angels  shall  not  separate  me  from  the  love  of 
God ;'  that  is  to  say,  the  love  of  God  has 
struck  such  deep  root  in  my  soul,  that  I  defy 
all  the  power  and  policy  of  wicked  angels  to 
prevent  my  loving  him.  '  Who  shall  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ?  Shall  tribulation, 
or  distress,  or  persecution,  or  famine,  or  na- 
kedness, or  peril,  or  sword  .'"  that  is  to  say,  the 
love  of  God  has  made  impressions  on  our 
souls  so  deep,  that  should  ho  cause  us  to  suffer 
the  most  cruel  persecutions,  should  he  com- 
mand us  to  die  with  hunger,  should  we  be 
slaughtered  for  his  sake  we  would  not  cease 
to  love  him.  These  are  the  sentiments  of 
St.  Paul  in  the  text,  and  in  the  preceding 
verses.  But  you,  whom  death  or  life,  angels, 
prmcipalities,  or  powers,  separate  every  day 
from  loving  God,  what  right  have  you  to  say, 
'  We  are  persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor 
life,  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God.-" 


I  freely  own,  ray  brethren,  I  have  not  pa- 
tience to  hear  nominal  Christians,  unregen- 
erate  persons,  appropriate  to  themselves  the 
words  and  sentiments  of  eminent  saints.  If 
this  abuse  be  deplorable  through  life,  is  it  not 
most  of  all  so  at  the  hour  of  death  .-'  We  often 
hear  people,  whose  whole  lives  had  been  spent 
in  sin,speak  the  very  language  of  others, whose 
whole  days  had  been  devoted  to  virtue.  One 
says  with  Si  Paul,  '  I  have  fought  a  good 
fight,  I  have  finished  my  course,  I  have  kept 
the  faith  ;  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a 
crown  of  righteousness,'  2  Tirn.  iv.  7,  8.  But 
who  are  you  talking  thus  ?  Do  you  know  who 
uttered  these  words  .''  Do  you  know  who  St. 
Paul  was  ?  He  was  a  man  filled  with  divine 
love  ;  a  man  burning  with  love  to  the  church  ; 
a  man  inviolably  attached  to  all  the  rights  of 
God  and  men.  But  you  who  sell  justice  for 
a  bribe  ;  you  who  stain  the  character  of  every 
neighbour ;  you  who  exercise  a  faithless 
ministry ;  do  you  adopt  the  style  of  thi.s 
apostle  .''  Instead  of  saying,  '  I  have  fought 
the  good  fight ;  you  ought  to  say,  I  have  fought 
a  bad  fight ;'  instead  of  saying, '  I  have  kept 
thi.  I'aith  ;  you  ought  to  say,  I  have  betrayed 
the  faith  ;  instead  of  saying,  '  I  have  finished 
my  course,'  ^ou  ought  to  say,  I  have  not  yet 
begun  to  set  a  step  m  it ;  instead  of  saying, 
'  A  crown  of  righteousness  is  laid  up  forme,' 
you  ought  to  say,  There  are  laid  up  for  me 
chains  of  darkness,  I  am  on  the  brink  of  hell, 
and  1  am  looking,  my  God,  whether  there 
be  any  possible  way  of  escaping  it.  But  to 
say,  with  St.  Paul,  '  I  am  persuaded,'  a  man 
must  be,  if  not  in  degree,  at  least  in  sincerity 
and  truth,  a  saint  as  St.  Paul  was. 

A  second  argument  which  establishes  the 
doctrine  of  assurance,  and  destroys  a  s^'stem 
of  carnal  security,  is  the  nature  of  regenera- 
tion. Recollect  the  reasons  assigned  before 
to  show,  that  a  confirmed  Christian  micrfit 
persuade  himself  he  should  triumph  over  all 
his  trials  ;  tliese  reasons  all  prove,  that  unre- 
generate  men,  and  suspected  Christians,  have 
just  grounds  of  fear.  An  unrcgenerate  man 
has  only  a  few  transient  acts  of  virtue,  <ind  he 
has  paid  very  little  attention  to  the  mortifi- 
cation of  his  natural  propensities  to  sin  ; 
consequently  ho.  ought  to  fear,  tliat  habits  of 
vice,  and  inward  propensities  to  sin,  will  car- 
ry his  superficial  virtue  away.  An  unregene- 
rato  man  has  very  little  apprehension  of  the 
joy  of  salvation  ;  consequently  he  ought  to 
dread  the  influence  of  sensual  pleasures.  Au 
unregencrate  man  has  but  a  few  seeminn' 
sparks  of  divine  love,  and  if  he  thinks  them  real 
he  ought  to  fear  the  extinction  of  them.  A 
light  so  faint,  a  spark  so  small,  are  not  likely 
amidst  so  many  obstacles  to  continue  loncf. 

This  fear  is  the  more  reasonable,  because 
the  church  abounds  with  nominal  Christians, 
who,  aftei  a  shining  profession  of  piety  and 
sanctity,  have  forsaken  truth  and  virtue.  We 
have  seen  righteous  men  turn  away  from 
their  righteousness,  as  the  prophet  Ezckiel 
expresses  it,  chap,  xviii.  24.  We  have  seen 
temporary  professors,  who,  after  they  have 
received  the  word  with  joy,  have  been  of- 
fended when  persecution  arose,  as  Jesus 
Christ  speaks.  Matt.  xii.  20,21.  We  have 
seen  such  as  Hymeneus  and  Philetus,  who 
have  made  ■  shipwreck  of  faith  and  a   r^ood 


338 


ASSURANCE. 


[Ser.  XXXVII. 


conscience/  as  St.  Paul  words  it,  2  Tim. 
ii.  17.  We  have  seen  some  like  Demas, 
after  they  had  adhered  awhile  to  the  truth, 
forsake  it,  having  loved  this  present  world, 
as  the  same  apostle  speaks,  chap.  iv.  10.  We 
have  seen  people,  after  they  have  escaped 
the  pollutions  of  the  world,  through  the  know- 
ledge of  the  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ, 
again  entangled  therein,  and  overcome,  as 
St.  Peter  says,  2  Epist.  ii.  20.  We  have  seen 
Christians,  in  appearance  of  the  highest  order, 
who,  after  they  had  been  once  enlightened, 
and  had  tasted  of  the  heavenly  gift,  and  had 
tasted  the  good  word  of  God,  and  the  powers 
vf  the  world  to  come,  fall  away,  Heb.  vi.  4. 
We  have  seen  Judases,  who  after  they  had 
been  in  the  sacred  college  of  Jesus  Christ, 
shamefully  betray  him.  While  our  know- 
ledge is  so  small,  and  our  virtue  so  feeble,  we 
have  great  reason  to  apply  these  examples, 
and  to  tremble  for  ourselves. 

The  third  argument  by  which  we  establish 
the  doctrine  of  assurance,  and  which  also 
militates  against  carnal  security,  is  Christian 
prerogative.  Two  propositions  are  contained 
m  it.  First,  We  may  be  persuaded  that  we 
have  true  faith.  Next,  We  may  be  sure  true 
faith  will  be  assisted  to  persevere.  These 
propositions  which  assure  the  believer,  ought 
to  alarm  a  nominal  Christian. 

Here  let  us  develope  an  ambiguity  too 
common  in  our  churches.  For  as  we  afErm,  on 
the  one  side,  that  a  believer  has  characters 
proper  to  himself;  and  by  which  he  may  de- 
termine his  state ;  and  as,  on  the  other  side, 
we  assert,  that  they  who  have  these  charac- 
ters, can  never  cease  to  be  true  believers  ;  a 
nominal  Christian  maj'  imagine  the  following 
Bophism  :  I  fast,  I  pray,  I  give  alms;  these 
are  the  virtues  of  a  believer;  I  may  then 
persuade  mj'self,  that  I  am  a  believer.  Now, 
it  seems  he  who  once  becomes  a  true  be- 
liever, can  never  cease  to  believe  ;  conse- 
quently, I  who  have  fasted,  prayed,  and 
given  alms,  can  never  cease  to  be  a  believer. 

What  is  still  more  astonishing,  this  ridicu- 
lous reasoning  is  often  applied  to  others  as 
well  as  to  ourselves.  A  loose  casuist  asks 
liis  penitent.  Do  you  repent  of  your  sins  ? 
The  penitent  answers,  I  do  repent.  Have 
you  recourse  to  the  divine  clemency  .'  The 
penitent  replies,  I  have  recourse  to  it.  Do 
you  embrace  the  satisfaction  of  Christ.'  The 
penitent  says,  I  do  embrace  it.  On  this 
slight  foundation  our  casuist  builds  his  sys- 
tem. Publications  of  grace  are  lavished, 
sources  of  mercy  pour  forth  in  abundance, 
and  the  penitent  may,  if  he  please,  take  his 
seat  in  heaven.  My  God  !  in  what  a  man- 
ner they  enter  into  the  spirit  of  thy  gospel ! 

But  first,  when  we  affirm,  that  only  the 
true  believer  can  perform  acts  of  faith,  and 
that  the  least  good  work  supposes  regenera- 
tion :  we  do  not  ailirni,  that  there  are  not 
many  actions  common  to  botli  real  and  no- 
minal Christians.  A  nominal  Christian 
may  pray,  a  nominal  Christian  may  fast, 
a  nominal  Christian  may  give  alms.  It 
may  even  happen  that  men  may  embrace  re- 
ligion on  base. principles.  Ileligion  commands 
a  subject  to  obey  his  king  ;  a  king  may  em- 
brace religion  on  tliis  account,  and  he  may 
place  his  E'.iprcine  happiness  in  the  obedienco 


of  his  subjects.  Keligion  discovers  to  us  a 
merciful  God  ;  a  wicked  man  may  embrace 
religion  on  this  account,  for  the  sake  of  calm- 
ing those  fears  which  his  vicious  practices  ex- 
cite, by  ideas  of  divine  mercy.  The  same 
may  be  said  of  other  men.  A  man  cannot 
conclude  then,  that  he  is  a  believer  from  his 
performance  of  virtuous  actions,  common  to 
believers  and  unbelievers.  He  must  have  pe- 
culiar light  into  the  deep  depravity  of  his 
own  heart ;  he  must  be  placed,  at  least  in 
design,  in  circumstances  that  distinguish  a 
good  from  a  bad  man. 

Again  when  we  say  a  believer  can  never 
cease  to  believe,  we  do  not  mean  to  say,  a 
Christian  attached  to  religion  only  by  exter- 
nal performances,  and  by  appearances  of  pi- 
ety, can  never  cast  off  his  profession.  The 
finest  appearances  of  piety,  the  greatest 
knowledge  ,  the  most  liberal  alms-deeds,  the 
most  profound  humiliations,  may  be  suc- 
ceeded by  foul  and  fatal  practices. 

Moreover,  great  knowledge,  generous  cha- 
rity, profound  humiliation,  will  aggravate  the 
condemnation  of  those  who  cease  to  proceed 
in  virtue,  and  to  purity  their  motives  of  ac- 
tion ;  because  the  performance  of  these  vir- 
tues, and  the  acquisition  of  this  great  know- 
ledge, suppose  greater  aid,  and  more  resist- 
ance. Hear  St.  Peter  :  '  It  had  been  belter 
for  them  not  to  have  known  the  way  of  right- 
eousness, than  after  they  have  known  it  to 
turn  from  the  holy  commandment,'  2  Epist. 
ii.  21.  The  case  of  those  who  commit  the 
unpardonable  sin,  attests  tiie  same.  Hear 
these  thundering  words  :  '  If  we  sin  wilfully 
after  that  we  have  received  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth,  there  remaineth  no  more  sacri- 
fice for  sins,  but  a  certain  fearful  looking- 
for  of  judgment  and  fiery  indignation,  which 
shall  devour  the  adversaries,'  Heb.  x.  26. 

Finally ,The  argument  from  the  testimon}' 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  for  the  assurance  of  a' 
true  believer,  ought  to  trouble  the  security 
of  a  nominal  Christian.  In  effect,  how  does 
the  Holy  Spirit  work  in  our  hearts .'  Does 
he  operate  by  magic  ?  Does  he  present  phan- 
toms to  our  view  f  Does  he  inculcate  propo- 
sitions contrary  to  truth  .'  This  is  all  enthu- 
siasm. The  Holy  Spirit  bears  witness  in  us 
in  a  manner  conformable  to  our  state  and  to 
the  nature  of  things  in  general.  If  then  th(5 
Spirit  of  God  testify  in  your  hearts  while 
you  are  unregenerate,  he  will  testify  that 
you  are  unregenerate.  If  he  bear  witnes.^ 
while  you  are  nominal  Christians,  he  will  bear 
witness  that  you  are  nominal  Christians.  If 
he  bear  witness  while  }'our  faith  is  doubtful, 
he  will  bear  witness  to  the  doubtfulness  of  your 
faith.  Such  a  testimony  may  be  ascribed  to 
the  Spirit  of  God.  But  an  assurance  of  salva- 
tion, which  exceeds  your  evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity, must  be  a  vision,  a  fancy,  a  dream  ; 
and  to  suppose  the  Holy  Spirit  the  author  ot 
such  an  assurance,  is  to  suppose  in  the  same 
Spirit  testimony  against  testimony ;  it  is  to 
make  the  Spirit  of  God  '  divided  against  him- 
self,' Matt.  xii.  26,  and  so  a  destroyer  of  his 
own  kingdom  ;  it  is  to  make  his  testimony  in 
the  heart  contradict  his  testimonj'  inScripture . 
In  Scripture  Jie  declares,  '  No  man  can  serve 
two  masters,'  chap.  vi.  24  ;  in  your  hearts  he 
deolai'es,  A  mm  iuay  sorve  two  masters.    In 


b*EK.   XXXVII.J 


ASSURANCE 


539 


Scripture  he  attests,  There  '  is  no  concord 
l»etween  Christ  and  Belial,'  2  Cor.  vi.  15; 
in  vour  hearts  he  attests,  There  is  concord 
between  Christ  and  Belial.  In  Scripture  he 
affirms, 'Neither  fornicators,  nor  covetous,  nor 
revilers,  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God,'  I 
Cor.  vi.  9,  10 ;  in  your  hearts  he  affirms. 
Such  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.  Thus 
the  four  arguments,  that  prove  the  doctrine 
of  assurance  in  favour  of  true  believers, 
yiestroy  the  security  of  a  mere  nominal  Ciiris- 
ftian. 

The  consolations  which  arise  from  the  doc- 
trine of  assurance,  are  not  then  for  all  Chris- 
tians indifferently.     They  are  only  for  those 
■who  continually  study  obedience  ;  they  are 
for  those  only  who  have  seen  into  a  '  heart 
deceitful  above  aM   things,  and  desperately 
wicked,'   Jer.  xvii.  9,  and  have  found  even 
there   marks  of  regeneration  ;  they  are  for 
those  only,  who,   by  a  life  entirely  devoted 
i    to  the  service  of   God,  have   domonstrated 
I     that  they  bear  the  characters  of  his  children. 
'   Is  this  your  condition .'     The  sophisms  of 
I    ^in  that  we  have  endeavoured  to  refute,  those 
j    Jportraits  of  rash  confidence,  these  false  titles 
i  fof  virtue   and   regeneration,    these   images 
/that  we  have  traced,  whence  have  we  taken 
/  tliem  ?   Have  we  gathered  them  from  books  .'' 
j  Inive  we  invented  them  in  our  closets  ?    have 
/  we  derived  them  from  the  study  of  theology.' 
liave  we  drawn  them  from  monuments  of  an- 
cient history  f     No,  no,  we  have  learnt  them 
in  the  world,  in  the  churcli,  in  your  families, 
in  your  sick  beds,  where  nothing  is  so  com- 
mon as  this  false  peace,  nothing  so  rare  as 
the  true. 

Whence  the  evil  comes,  I  know  not :  but 
the  fact  is  certain.  Of  all  the  churches  in  j 
the  world,  there  are  none  which  abuse  the 
doctrine  of  Christian  assurance,  and  which 
draw  consequences  from  it  directly  contra- 
ry to  those  which  ought  to  be  drawn,  like 
some  of  ours.  We  lull  ourselves  into  a  fan- 
ciful confidenco  :  we  place  on  imaginary  sys- 
tems an  assurance  which  ouglit  to  be  found- 
ed only  on  the  rock  of  ages ;  we  scruple, 
oven  while  we  are  engaged  in  the  most  cri- 
minnl  habits,  to  say,  we  doubt  of  our  salva- 
tion ;  r.nd,  as  if  a  persuasion  of  being  saved, 
dispensed  with  the  necessity  of  working  out 
our  salvation,  we  consider  an  assurance  of  ar- 
riving at  heavenly  felicity  as  a  privilege,  that 
supplies  the  want  of  every  virtue. 

Certainly  nothing  is  more  great  and  happy 
than  the  disposition  of  a  man  who  courage- 
ously expects  to  enjoy  a  glory  to  which  he 
has  a  just  title.  A  man  who  knows  the  mi- 
sery of  sin  ;  a  man  who  groans  under  the 
weight  of  his  own  depravity,  and  enters  into 
the  sentiment,  while  he  utters  the  language, 
of  the  apostle,  '  O  wretched  man  that  I  am ! 
who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death  ?'  Rom.  vii.  24  ;  a  man,  who,  afler  he 
Jiad  experienced  the  terrible  agitations  of  a 
conscience  distressed  on  account  of  sin,  has 
been  freed  from  all  his  sins  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross,  has  put  on  the  yoke  of  Christ  his 
Lord  ;  a  man,  who  having  seen  in  himself 
the  true  characters  of  a  Christian,  and  the 
never  failing  graces  annexed  to  evangelical 
mercy,    has   learned    at    length    to    pierce 


through  all  the  clouds  which  Satan  uses  to 
conceal  heaven  from  the  Christian  eye,  to 
lay  all  the  ghosts,  that  the  enemy  of  souls 
raises  to  haunt  mankind  into  terror ;  a  man 
who  rests  on  that  'word  of  God,  which  stand- 
eth  for  ever,  even  when  heaven  and  earth 
pass  away,'  may  say  with  St.  Paul,  '  I  am 
persuaded ;'  such  a  man  may  assure  himself 
that  only  glorified  spirits  enjoy  a  happiness 
superior  to  his  ;  he  is  arrived  at  the  highest 
degree  of  felicity,  to  which  in  this  valley  of 
tears  men  can  come. 

But  to  consider  religion  always  on  the  com- 
fortable side  ;  to  congratulate  one's  self  for 
having  obtained  tlie  end  before  we  have 
made  use  of  the  means  ;  to  stretch  the  hands 
to  receive  the  crown  of  righteousness,  before 
they  have  been  employed  to  fight  the  battle  ; 
to  be  content  with  a  false  peace,  and  to  use 
no  efforts  to  obtain  the  graces,  to  which  true 
consolation  is  annexed  ;  this  is  a  dreadful 
calm,  like  that  which  some  voyagers  describe, 
and  which  is  a  very  singular  forerunner  of  a 
very  terrible  event.  All  on  a  sudden,  in  the 
wide  ocean,  the  sea  becomes  calm,  the  sur- 
face of  the  water  clear  as  crystal,  smooth 
as  glass,  the  air  serene  ;  the  unskilled  passen- 
ger becomes  tranquil  and  happy  ;  but  the  old 
mariner  trembles.  In  an  instant  the  waves 
froth,  the  winds  murmur,  the  heavens  kin- 
dle, a  tliousand  gulfs  open,  a  frightful  light 
inflames  the  air,  and  ever}^  wave  threatens 
sudden  death.  This  is  an  image  of  most 
men's  assurance  of  salvation. 

So  then,  instead  of  applying  the  words  of 
our  text  to  a  great  number  of  you,  we  are 
obliged  to  shed  tears  of  compassion  over 
you.  Yes,  we  must  lament  your  misery. 
You  live  under  an  economy  in  which  tho 
most  transporting  joys  are  set  before  you,  and 
you  wilfully  deprive  yourselves  of  them. 
Yes,  vi'e.must  adopt  the  language  of  a  pro- 
phet, '  O  that  my  people  had  hearkened  unto 
me  !'  We  must  say  with  .Jesus  Christ,  '  If 
thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this 
thy  day,  the  things  which  belong  unto  thy 
peace  !'     Ps.  Ixxx.  13 ;  Luke  xix.  42. 

What  can  be  happier,  amidst  the  number- 
less vanities  and  vexations  which  accompany 
worldly  pleasures,  than  to  be  able  to  derive 
from  an  assurance  of  our  salvation  pleasures 
suitable  to  intelligent  creatures,  immortal 
souls.'  What  can  be  happier,  amidst  all  the 
pains,  labours,  and  miseries,  with  which  life 
abounds,  tlian  to  enjoy  the  plentiful  consola- 
tions, that  issue  from  a  well-grounded  hope 
of  eternal  felicity  .'  Above  nil,  what  can  be 
more  capable  of  supporting  us  against  the 
fear  of  death  ,'  Mortal  and  dying  as  we  are, 
in  a  state,  where  tlie  smallest  alteration  in 
the  body  reminds  us  of  death,  what  can  we 
wish  for  more  conformable  to  our  wants  than 
to  find,  in  a  firm  hope  of  eternal  felicity,  a 
shield  to  secure  us  against  the  enemy,  and 
a  sword  to  destroy  him  .'  let  us  strive,  let  us 
pray,  let  us  venture  all,  my  brethren,  to  ar- 
rive at  this  happy  state.  And  if,  after  we 
have  believingly  and  sincerely  laboured  in 
this  good  work,  there  remain  any  doubt  and 
suspicion,  let  us  assure  ourselves,  that  even 
our  suspicions  and  fears  shall  contribute  to 
our  confirmation.     Thev  will  not  be  account- 


540 


JUDGMENT. 


ed  crimes,  tliey  will  at  most  be  only  frailties ;  |  the  conscience.     So  be  it. 
they  will  be  infirmities  productive  of  motives  |  our  and  glory.     Amen. 
,to  go  on  in  virtue,  and  to  establish  peace  in  1 


[Ser.  XXXVIII. 
To  God  be  hon- 


SERMON  XXXVIII. 


JUDGMENT. 


HEBREWS  ix.  27, 


It  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die :  but  after  this  the  judgment. 


The  second  proposition  in  my  text  conveys 
terror  into  the  first.  Judgment  to  come 
makes  death  terrible.  I  own,  it  is  natural  to 
love  life.  The  Creator,  it  should  seem,  has 
supplied  the  want  of  satisfactory  pleasures 
in  the  world,  by  giving  us,  1  know  not  what, 
attachment  to  it.  But  when  reason  rises  out 
of  nature,  when  the  good  and  evil  of  life  are 
■weighed,  evil  seems  to  outweigh  good,  and 
we  can  hardly  help  exclaiming  with  the  wise 
man,  '  Tl)e  daj'  of  death  is  better  than  the  day 
of  one's  birth  !  I  hate  life  because  of  the  work 
that  is  wrought  under  the  sun !'  Ecclcs.  A-ii. 
1,  and  ii.  17. 

But  to  go  from  a  bed  of  infirmity  to  a  tri- 
bunal of  justice  ;  to  look  through  the  lan- 
guors of  a  mortal  malady  to  torments  that 
have  no  end  ;  and.  after  we  have  heard  tliis 
sentence,  '  Return  to  destruction,  ye  children 
of  men,'  Ps.  xc.  J?,  to  hear  this  other,  '  Give 
an  account  of  thj'  stewardship,'  Luke  xvi.  2, 
these  are  just  causes  for  intelligent  being's  to 
fear  death. 

Let  us,  however,  acknowledge,  although 
this  fear  is  just,  yet  it  may  be  excessive  ;  and, 
though  it  be  madness  to  resist  the  thougiit, 
3'ct  it  would  be  weakness  to  be  overwhelmed 
■^vith  it.  I  would  prove  this  to-day,  while  in 
this  point  of  light  I  endeavour  to  exhibit  to 
your  view  the  judgment  that  follows  death. 

We  will  not  divert  your  attention  from  the 
chief  design.  We  will  only  hint,  that 
Ihe  proposition  in  tiie  text  is  incidental,  and 
not  immediately  connected  with  the  prin- 
cipal subject,  which  the  apostle  was  discus- 
sing. His  design  was  to  show  the  pre-emi- 
nence of  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross  over  all 
those  of  the  Levitical  economy.  One  article, 
■which  argues  tlie  superiority  of  the  first,  is, 
that  it  was  olTered  but  once,  whereas  tiie 
Jewish  sacrifices  were  reiterated.  Christ 
<loes'  not  offer  himselfoftcn,as  the  high-priest 
cntereth  into  the  holy  place  every  year  with 
the  blood  of  other  sacrifices  :  but  once  in  the 
end  of  the  world  hath  lie  appeared  to  put 
away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself.'  For, 
'  as  it  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die,  and 
after  tliis  the  judgment;  so  Ciirist  was  once 
ottered  to  bear  the  sins  of  many.' 

Nor  will  we  detain  you  longer  by  inquiring 
■whether  St.  Paul  speaks  here  ol  the  particular 
judgment  that  each  man  undergoes  imnie- 
diately  after  death,  or  of  that  general  judg- 
jncnt  day.   of  whiclj   Scripture  says.  '  God 


hath  appointed  a  day,  in  the  which  he  will 
judge  the  world  in  righteousness,'  Acts.  xvii. 
31.  Whatever  difference  there  may  seem  to 
be  between  these  two  hypotheses,  it  is  easy  to 
harmonize  them.  The  general  judgment 
will  be  a  confirmation  and  a  consummation  of 
each  particular  judgment,  and  we  ought  to 
consider  both  as  different  parts  of  one  whole. 

Once  more  I  repeat  it,  we  will  not  divert 
your  attention  from  the  principal  design  of 
this  discourse.  I  am  going  first,  not  to  al- 
lege arguments  in  proof  of  a  judgment  to 
come,Isuppose  them  known  to  you,  and  that 
I  am  not  preaching  to  novices  :  but  I  am  go- 
ing to  a.?sist  you  to  carry  them  farther  than 
you  usually  do,  and  so  to  guard  you  against 
skepticism  and  infidelity,  tlie  pestof  our  days, 
and  the  infamy  of  our  age.  In  a  second  arti- 
cle, we  will  inquire,  what  will  be  the  destiny 
of  this  assembly  in  that  great  day,  in  whicli 
God  will  declare  the  doom  of  all  mankind. 
We  discuss  this  question,  not  to  indulge  a 
vain  curiosity  :  but  to  derive  practical  infer- 
ences, and  particularly  to  moderate  the  ex- 
cessive fear,  that  an  object  so  very  terrible 
produces  in  some  minds,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  trouble  the  extravagant  security  iu 
wliich  some  sleep,  in  spite  of  sounds  so  proper 
to  awake  them. 

I.  We  have  three  directions  to  give  3"on. 
Tlie  first  regards  the  arguments  for  judg- 
ment taken  from  the  disorders  of  society.  The 
second  regards  tliat  which  is  taken  from  con- 
science. The  third,  that  which  is  taken  from 
revelation. 

1.  Our  first  direction  regards  the  argu- 
ment taken  from  the  disorders  of  society.  Do 
not  confine  your  attention  to  those  disorders 
v.'hich  strike  the  senses,  astonish  reason,  and 
subvert  faith  itself.  Reflect  on  other  irre- 
gularities, which,  although  they  are  less 
shocking  to  sense,  and  seemingly  of  much 
less  consequence,  are  yet  no  less  deserving 
the  attention  of  the  Judge  of  the  whole  earth, 
and  require,  no  less  than  the  first,  a  future 
judgment. 

I  grant,  those  notorious  disorders,  which 
human  laws  cannot  repress,  afford  proof  of  a 
future  judgment.  A  tyrant  executes  on  a 
gibbet  a  poor  unliappy  man,  wlioin  the  pain 
f)f  hunger,  and  the  frightful  apprehension  of 
sudden  death,  forced  to  break  open  a  house. 
Here,  if  you  will,  disorder  is  punished,  and 
societv  is   satisfied.     But    who   shall    satisfy 


Seb.  XXXVIII.] 


JUDGMENT. 


Hi 


the  just  vengeance  ofSociely  on  this  mad  t}'- 
rant .'  This  very  tyrant,  at  the  head  of  a  hun 
tired  tiiousand  thieves,  ravages  the  whole 
world;  he  piilai^es  on  the  right  and  on  the  left ; 
he  violates  the  most  sacred  rights,  the  most 
solemn  treaties  ;  he  knows  neither  religion 
nor  good  faith.  Go,  sec,  follow  his  steps, 
I'ountrie.s  desolated,  plains  covered  with  the 
bodies  of  the  dead,  palaces  reduced  to  ashes, 
and  people  rmi  mad  with  despair.  Inquire 
for  the  author  of  all  these  miseries.  Will  you 
find  liim,  tiiink  you,  confined  in  a  dark  dun- 
jjeon,  or  expiring  on  a  wheel  ?  Lo !  he  sits 
on  a  throne,  in  a  superb  royal  palace  ;  nature 
and  art  contribute  to  his  pleasures  ;  a  circle 
of  courtiers  minister  to  his  passions,  and  erect 
altars  to  him,  who.se  equals  in  iniquity,  yea, 
if  I  maybe  allowed  to  say  so,  whose  inferiors 
in  vice,  have  justly  suffered  the  most  infa- 
mous punishments.  And  where  is  divine  jus- 
lice  all  this  time  ?  what  is  it  doing .''  I  answer 
with  my  text, '  After  death  comes  judgment. 
So  speak  ye,  and  so  do,  as  tijey  that  shall  be 
judged  by  the  law  of  hbcrty,'  James  i.  1'2. 

But,  though  the  argument  taken  from  the 
disorders  of  society  is  full  and  clear,  when  it 
is  properly  proposed,  yet  such  examples  as 
v/c  have  just  mentioned  do  not  exhaust  it. 
It  may  be  extended  a  great  deal  farther,  and 
wc  may  add  thousands  of  disorders,  which 
every  day  are  seen  in  society,  against  which 
men  can  make  no  laws,  and  wliich  cannot  be 
redressed  until  tlie  great  day  of  judgment, 
when  God  will  give  clear  evidence  of  all. 

Have  human  laws  ever  been  made  against 
hypocrites .''  see  that  man  artfully  covering 
himself  with  the  veil  of  religion,  that  hypo- 
crite, wlio  excels  in  his  art !  behold  liis  eyes, 
what  seraphical  looks  they  roll  towards  hea- 
ven !  observe  his  features,  made  up,  if  I  may 
venture  to  say  so,  of  those  of  Moses,  Ezra, 
Daniel,  and  Nehemiah  !  see  his  vivacity,  or 
his  flaming  zeal  siiall  I  call  it.'  to  maintain 
the  doctrines  of  religion,  to  forge  thunder- 
bolts, and  to  pour  out  anathemas  against  he- 
retics !  Not  one  grain  of  religion,  not  the 
Jeast  shadow  of  piety,  in  all  his  whole  con- 
versation. It  is  a  party  spirit,  or  a  sordid  in- 
>  crest,  or  a  barbarous  disposition  to  revenge, 
which  animates  him,  and  produces  all  his 
pretended  piety.  And  yet  I  hear  every  bod}'- 
exclaim,  He  is  a  miracle  of  religion  I  he  is 
a  pillar  of  the  church!  I  see  altars  avery 
%vhere  erecting  to  tliis  man ;  panegyrists,  I 
fsee,  are  composing  his  encomium  ;  flowers 
are  gathering  to  bo  strev/ed  over  his  tomb. 
And  the  justice  of  God,  what  is  it  doing  ?  My 
text  tells  you,  '  After  death  comes  judg- 
ment.' 

Have  human  laws  ever  been  made  against 
l}»e  ungrateful .''  While  I  was  in  prosperity,  I 
studied  to  procure  happiness  to  a  man,  who 
seemed  entirely  devoted  to  me  ;  I  was  hap- 
pier in  imparting  my  abundance  to  him  than 
in  enjoying  it  myself;  during  tliat  delightful 
period  of  my  life  he  was  faithful  to  me  :  but 
when  fortune  abandoned  me,  and  adopted  him, 
he  turned  his  back  on  me  ;  now  he  suffers  mo 
to  languish  in  poverty  ;  and,  far  from  reliev- 
ing my  wants,  he  docs  not  deign  so  much  as 
to  examine  them.  And  diving  justict;,  where 
is  it .''  who  shall  punish  this  black  crime  '^  1 
answeragain, '  y\l'ter  death  comes  jud.o-ment.' 

,'i  X 


Have  men  made  laws  agaiiiBt  coward.*; .''  1 
do  not  mean  cowardice  in  war  ;  the  infamy 
that  follows  this  crime,  is  a  just  punishment 
of  it.  I  speiikof  that  mean  cowardice  of  soul, 
which  makes  a  man  forsake  an  oppressed  in- 
nocent sufferer,  and  keep  a  criminal  silenco 
in  regard  to  the  oppressor.  Pursue  this  train 
of  thought,  and  you  will  every  where  find 
arguments  for  a  future  judgment ;  because 
there  will  every  where  appear  disorders,  which 
establish  the  necessity  of  it. 

Our  second  direction  regards  the  argu- 
ment taken  from  conscience.  Let  not  your 
faitii  be  shaken  by  the  examples  of  those 
pretended  superior  geniuses,  vv'ho  boast  of 
having  freed  themselves  from  this  restraint. 
Tell  them,  if  they  have  no  conscience,  the}' 
ought  to  have  ;  and  afhrm,  the  truer  their 
pretensions,  the  stronger  your  reason  for  tax- 
ing them  with  rage  and  extravagance  There 
is  no  better  mode  of  destroying  an  objection 
than  by  proving,  that  he  who  proposes  an^l 
admits  it  is  a  fool  for  admitting  and  propois- 
ing  it.  If,  then,  I  prove  that  a  man,  who,  to 
demonstrate  tlmt  conscience  is  a  fancy,  de- 
clares, he  is  entirely  exempt  from  it ;  if  I 
prove,  that  such  a  man  is  a  fool  for  propo.iing 
and  admitting  this  proposition,  shall  I  not 
subvert  his  w'hole  system  P  Now  I  think  I  am 
able  to  prove  such  a  man  a  fool,  and  you  will 
admit  the  truth  of  what  I  say,  if  you  will  give 
a  little  attention  to  the  nature  of  conscience, 
a  little  closerattention,  I  mean,  than  is  usual- 
ly given  to  sermons. 

What  is  conscience?  It  is  difficult  to  in- 
clude an  adequate  idea  of  it  in  a  definition. 
This  appears  to  me  at  once  the  most  general 
and  the  most  exact :  Conscience  is  that  fa- 
culty of  our  minds,  by  which  we  are  able  to 
distinguish  right  from  wrong,  and  to  know 
whether  we  neglect  our  duties,  or  discliarge 
them. 

There  are,  I  grant,  some  operations  of  con- 
science, which  seem  to  be  rather  instinct 
and  sentiment  than  cool  judgment  arising 
from  a  train  of  reflections.  Yet,  wo  believe, 
all  the  operations  of  conscience  proceed  from 
judgment  and  reflection.  But  it  sometimes 
hajjpens,  that  the  judgment  of  the  mind  is  so 
ready,  and  its  reflections  so  rapid,  that  it 
hardly  sees  what  it  judges,  and  reflects  on,  so 
tliat  it  seems  to  act  by  instinct  and  sentiment 
only.  Thus  v.'hen  the  mind  compare.^  two 
simple  numbers  together,  the  compariison  is 
so  easily  made,  that  we  think  we  know  the. 
difference  by  a  kind  of  instinct  belonging  to 
our  nature  ;  whereas  when  we  compare  com- 
plex numbers,  wo  feel,  so  to  speak,  that  our 
minds  inquire,  examine,  and  labour.  In  like 
manner  in  morality.  There  are  some  duties, 
the  rifflit  of  whicli  is  so  clear  and  palpable  ; 
and  there  are  some  conditions, 'in  which  we, 
ourselves,  are  in  regard  to  these  duties  whicJi 
are  so  easy  to  be  known,  that  the  mind  in- 
stantly perceives  them  without  examination 
and  discussion.  But  there  are  some  dutiei:, 
the  right  of  which  is  so  enveloped  in  obscu- 
rity ;  and  there  are  some  stations,  which  aro 
so  very  doulitful,  tliat  the  mind  requires 
great  efforts  of  meditation  before  it  can  de- 
termine itself.  For  example,  Ouglit  a  sub- 
ject to  ohm  his  hnnfid  sorcreiffn?  On  this 
'  question;  the   mind  uistantly  takes  the   aiTir- 


543 


JUDGMENT. 


[SEii.  XXXVIII, 


mative  sidp,  oa  account  of  tlio  clearness  of  the 
duty,  and  it  sceins  to  act  by  instinct,  and 
without  reflection.  But  hero  is  another 
question,  Is  it  lawful  for  subjects  to  dethrone 
a  tyrant  f^  Here  the  mind  pauses,  and  before 
it  determines  enters  into  loni^  discussions, 
and  here  we  perceive,  it  acts  by  judgment 
and  reflection.  In  both  cases  reflection  and 
judgment  are  the  ground  of  its  operations. 
In  the  first  case  judgment  is  more  rapid,  re- 
flection less  slow  :  but  it  is  reflection  how- 
ever. We  have,  then,  rightly  defined  con- 
science, that  fiiculty  of  our  souls,  by  which 
we  are  capable  of  distinguishing  right  Irom 
WTong,  and  of  knowing  whctlier  we  neglect 
our  duties,  or  discharge  them. 

But  this  is  too  vague,  wc  must  go  farther. 
We  must  examine  the  principles  on  which 
wc  ground  our  judgment  of  ourselves  in  re- 
gard to  right  and  wrong.  We  must  prove, 
by  the  nature  of  these  principles,  tlie  truth  of 
what  we  have  affirmed  ;  that  i.s,  that  a  man, 
who  calls  conscience  a  fancy,  and  who  boasts 
of  an  entire  freedom  from  it,  is  a  fool  for  ad- 
mitting and  proposing  this  objection. 

The  judgment  that  constitutes  the  nature 
ef conscience,  is  founded  on  three  principles, 
cither  fully  demonstrable  or  barely  probable. 

First,  I  am  in  a  state  of  dependance. 

Second,  There  is  a  supreme  law  ;  or  what 
is  the  same  thing,  there  is  something  right, 
and  something  wrong. 

Third,  I  anr  either  innocent  or  guilty. 

On  these  three  principles  an  intelligent 
spirit  grounds  a  judgment,  whether  it  de- 
serves to  be  happy  or  miserable  ;  it  rejoices, 
if  it  deserves  to  be  happy  ;  it  mourns,  if  it  de- 
serves to  be  miserable;  and  this  judgment, 
and  this  joy,  or  sorrow,  wliicii  results  from  it, 
constitutes  what  we  call  conscience. 

But  that  which  deserves  particular  regard, 
and  in  which  partly  consists  the  force  of  our 
reasoning,  is,  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  be 
able  to  demonstrate  tiiese  principles,  in  order 
to  prove,  that  conscience  is  not  a  fancy  ;  if 
they  be  probable,  it  is  sufficient.  We  cannot 
reasonably  free  ourselves  from  conscience, 
till  wc  have  demonstrated  the  fiilsehood  of 
these  principles,  and  proved  that  the  conse- 
quences drawn  from  them  are  chimerical. 
For,  if  these  principles  be  only  probable  ; 
if  it  be  probable  I  may  be  happy,  I  have  some 
reason  to  rejoice  ;  as  1  have  some  reason  for 
uneasiness  if  my  misery  be  probable  If  the 
enjoyment  of  a  great  benefit  be  probable,  I 
Jiave  some  reason  for  great  pleasure  ;  and  I 
have  some  reason  for  extreme  distress,  if  it  be 
probable,  tliat  I  shall  tall  into  extreme  misery. 
It  is  not  necessary,  therefore,  in  order  to  es- 
tablish the  empire  of  conscience,  that  the 
principles  on  which  it  is  founded  should  be 
demonstrable  ;  it  is  sufficient  tliat  they  are 
probable.  Now  I  affirm,  that  every  man  who 
maintains  tlie  improbaliility  of  these  ])rinci- 
ples,  and  tiie  vanity  of  the  consequences  that 
are  drawn  from  them,  is  a  fool  and  a  mad- 
man, wliosc  obstinate  attachment  to  vice  has 
blinded  liis  eyes,  and  turned  his  brain.  Cmi- 
sequently  I  affirm,  that  every  man  who  main- 
tains that  conscience  is  a  fancy,  and  who 
boasts  of  having  shaken  off  the  restraint  of  it, 
is  a  fool  and  a  madman. 

Take  the  first  principle.  7  am  in  a  state 
of  dependance.     1  am  subject  to  a  Supreme 


Being,  to  wliom  I  owe  my  existence,  and 
who  holds  my  destiny  in  his  mighty  hands. 
Do  we  exceed  the  truth  when  we  say,  a  man 
who  ventures  to  affirm  this  principle  is  nei- 
ther demonstrable  nor  probable,  is  a  madman 
and  a  fool  ^  I  told  you  at  the  beginning  of 
this  discourse,  that  I  intended  to  speak  to 
you,  not  as  scholars  and  novices  :  but  as  well- 
informed  Christians,  who  have  made  some 
considerable  progress  in  the  knowledge  of 
those  trutlis  which  equally  support  natural  and 
revealed  religion.  But  if  you  have  any  just 
notion  of  these  truths,  how  can  you  form  any 
other  opinion  of  these  men,  of  whom  I  am 
speaking,  than  that  which  I  have  formed  .'  A 
man  wlio  pretends  that  arguments  drawn  from 
the  order  of  seasons,  from  the  arrangementtJ 
of  the  various  parts  of  the  universe,  ftom  the 
harmony  of  the  members  of  our  bodies,  and 
all  the  other  works  of  nature,  by  whicli  we 
have  so  often  established  the  doctrine  of  tlie 
being  and  attributes  of  God  ;  a  man  who  af- 
firms, that  all  these  demonstrate  nothing  ; 
what  am  I  saying .'  a  man  who  affirms  that 
all  these  prove  nothing  ;  what  am  I  saying' 
again  ?  a  man  who  affirms  that  all  these  do 
not  afford  the  least  degree  of  probability  in 
favour  of  the  existence  and  perfections  of  a 
Supreme  Being;  who  for  his  part  is  sure,  for 
he  has  evidence  to  a  demonstration,  that  all 
these  originated  in  chance,  and  were  not 
formed  by  the  intervention  of  any  intelli- 
gent cause  ;  such  a  man,  what  is  he  but  a 
madman  and  a  fool .'  and  consequently,  is  it 
not  madness  and  folly  to  deny  this  first  prin- 
ciple, /  am  in  a  state  of  dcjjcndance  ? 

Try  the  second  principle.  There  is  a  su- 
preme laWjOT,  what  comes  to  the  same,  there  is 
something  just,  and  something  unjust.  Wlieth- 
er  this  just  and  right  be  founded  in  the  nature 
of  things,  or  whether  it  proceeds  from  the  will 
of  a  superior  Being,  is  notneedful  to  examine 
now  ;  be  it  as  it  may,  there  is  a  supreme  law, 
there  is  something  right  and  something" 
wrong.  A  man  who  pretends  that  this  pro- 
position is  evidently  false  ;  a  man  who  af- 
f.  ins,  that  all  arguments  brought  in  favour 
of  this  proposition  are  evidently  false  ;  a  man 
who  forms  such  an  idea  of  all  arguments 
drawn  from  the  nature  of  intelhgenl  beings, 
from  tlie  perfections  of  a  first  cause,  from  the 
lav.'s  tliat  he  has  given,  and  which  constitute 
the  body  of  religion ;  a  man  who  pretends, 
tliat  all  these  argnments  do  not  afford  tho 
least  degree  of  probability,  that  a  wise  man 
ought  to  infer  nothing  from  them  to  direct 
his  life  :  and  that  for  liis  part,  it  is  clear  to  a 
demonstration  to  him,  that  what  is  called  just 
and  unjust,  right  and  wrong,  is  indifferent 
in  itself,  and  indifTcrent  to  the  first  cause  : 
that  it  is  perfectly  indifferent  in  itself  whe- 
ther we  love  a  bcnefiictor,  or  betray  him, 
whether  we  be  iiait!i(ul  to  a  friend  or  perfidi- 
ous, whether  wo  be  tender  parents  or  cruel, 
whether  we  nourish  our  ciiildren  or  smother 
'.hem  in  the  cradle  ;  and  that  all  these  tilings 
at  the  most,  relate  only  to  a  present  interest ; 
a  man  wno  advances  such  propositions,  what 
is  he  but  a  fool  and  a  madman  ?  Is  it  ne- 
cessary to  reason  to  discover  the  extrava- 
gance and  madness  of  these  positions.  Is  it 
not  sufficient  to  name  them .' 
'  Take  the  third  principle  ....  But,  it  isj 
enough  to  have  pointed  out  the  mo.st  proper 


Seb.  XXXVIII.] 


JUDGMENT. 


o4o 


method  of  answering  the  objections  of  a  man 
who  pretends  conscience  is  a  fancy,  and  who 
boasts  of  liavin^  none. 

Let  us  paas  tlien  to  our  third  direction. 
It  concerns  the  proof  taken  from  revelation. 
Do  not  rest  the  arguments  drawn  from  this 
source  on  any  particular  passages,  whicli,  al- 
though they  may  be  very  full  and  explicit, 
may  yet  be  subject  to  some  sophistical  ex- 
ception :  but  rest  them  on  the  general  design 
and  scope  of  religion  ;  this  method  is  above 
all  objections,  and  free  from  every  difficulty. 
If  this  way  be  adopted,  it  will  presently  ap- 
pear, that  the  doctrine  of  a  future  judgment 
is  contained  in  a  manner  clear  and  convincing, 
not  only  in  the  writings  of  the  apostles  and 
evangelists,  but  also  in  the  revelations,  with 
which  God  honoured  the  patriarchs,  many 
ages  before  he  gave  a  written  law. 

Yea,  were  we  to  allow  that  we  have  no 
formal  passage  to  produce,  in  which  this  truth 
Avas  taught  the  ancient  servants  of  God 
(which  we  are  very  far  from  allowing,)  we 
might  still  maintain,  that  it  was  included  in 
the  genius  of  those  revelations,  which  were 
addressed  to  them.  Jesus  Christ  taught  us 
to  reason  thus  on  the  doctrine  of  future  rc- 
Avards,  and  we  may  fairly  apply  the  same 
method  to  the  doctrine  of  future  punish- 
ments. The  doctrine  of  future  rewards  is 
not  contained  in  the  formal  terms  :  but  in  the 
general  desiirn  of  this  promise,  '  I  am  the 
God  of  Abraham,'  Matt.  xxii.  32.  However 
splendid  the  condition  of  Abraham  might 
have  been,  however  abundant  his  riches, 
however  numerous  his  servants,  this  promise 
proceeding  from  the  mouth  of  God, '  lam  the 
God  of  Abraham,'  could  not  have  accom- 
plished in  the  temporal  prosperity  of  a  man  who 
was  dead,  when  the  words  were  spoken,  and 
whom  death  should  retain  in  durance.  As  God 
declared  himself  the  God  of  Abraham,'  and 
as  Abraham  was  dead,  when  he  declared  it, 
Abraham  must  necessarily  rise  again.  And 
this  is  our  Saviour's  reasoning.  '  God  is  not 
the  God  of  the  dead  :  but  of  the  living.' 

Let  us  say  the  same  of  those  punishments, 
which  God  has  denounced  against  sin,  in  re- 
ward to  those  ancient  sinners,  of  whom  God 
declared  himself  the  judge  ;  '  God  is  not  the 
jud^e  of  the  dead  ;  but  of  the  living.'  The 
wicked,  during  this  life,  are  often  free  from 
adversity  :  but  were  they  even  miserable  all 
the  time  of  their  abiding  on  earth,  their 
miseries  would  not  sufficiently  express  God's 
hatred  of  sin.  Asaph  renders  to  divine  jus- 
tice only  one  part  of  its  deserved  homage 
when  he  says,  in  order  to  justify  it  for  tolera- 
ting some  criminals,  '  surel)'  thou  didst  set 
them  in  slippery  places,  thou  cawtedst  them 
down  into  destruction.  How  arc  they  brought 
into  desolation  as  in  a  moment !  they  arc  ut- 
terly consumed  with  terrors !  As  a  dream, 
when  one  awakelh,  so, O  Lord, thou  shaltdes- 
pise  their  image,'  Ps.  Ixxiii.  18 — 20.  No  !  the 
tmexpected  vicissitudes  that  sometimes  con- 
found the  devices  of  the  wicked,  the  fatal  ca- 
tastrophes in  which  we  sometimes  see  them 
enveloped,  the  signal  reverses  of  fortune,  by 
which  they  are  often  precipitated  from  the 
liighest  elevation  to  the  deepest  distress  ;  all 
these  are  too  imperfect  to  verify  those  reit- 
f  rated  threatenings  vrhicli  the  Judge  of  man- 


kind denounced  against  primitive  criminals, 
to  teach  them  that  he  was  a  just  avenger  of 
sin.  To  display  this  fully  there  must  be  a 
resurrection  and  a  judgment.  In  this  man- 
ner, even  supposing  tliere  were  no  formal 
passages  in  proof  of  future  judgment  (which 
we  do  not  allow)  :  the  genius,  tlie  drift  and 
scope  of  religion  would  be  sufficient  to  con- 
vince us  of  the  truth  of  it. 

11.  What  has  been  said  shall  suffice  for 
proof  of  this  truth,  after  death  comes  judg- 
ment. But  what  shall  be  the  destiny  of  this 
audience  .''  What  sentence  will  the  judge  ot' 
the  world  pronounce  on  us  in  that  formida- 
ble day,  when  he  shall  judge  the  world  in 
righteousness  ?  Will  it  be  a  sentence  of  mer- 
cy ?  will  he  pronounce  our  absolution .''  wilt 
he  say  to  us,  '  Depart  ye  cursed  into  ever- 
lasting fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels  ?'  or  willjie  say  to  us,  'Come  ye  bless- 
ed of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  ?'  Matt. 
XXV.  41.  o4 

This  is  a  difficult  question :  however,  it  is 
not  so  difficult  as  some  of  us  may  imagine. 
St.  Paul  lays  down  a  principle  that  casta 
hght  on  the  inquirj' ;  that  is,  that  men  will 
be  judged  according  to  the  economies  under 
which  they  lived.  '  As  many  as  have  sinned 
without  law,  shall  also  perish  without  law  ; 
and  as  many  as  have  sinned  in  the  law,  shall 
be  judged  by  the  law,'  Rom.  ii.  12 ;  that  is 
to  say,  as  having  lived  under  the  Levitical 
economy.  '  They  who  have  sinned  in  the 
law  siiail  be  judged  by  the  law  ;'  to  which 
we  may  fairly  add,  they  who  have  lived  un- 
der the  gospel,  shall  be  judged  by  the  gospel. 
Now  the  gospel  is  an  economy  of  light,  an 
economy  of  proportion  an  economy  of  mercy. 
These  three  rules,  by  which  God  will  regulate 
our  eternal  destiny, should  quiet  the  excessive 
fears,  which  an  idea  of  future  judgement  ex- 
cites in  some  pious,  but  timorous  souls.  And, 
at  the  same  time,  they  ought  to  disturb  the 
false  peace  of  those  who  sleep  in  indolence 
amidst  objects  so  proper  to  awake  them. 

1.  We  shall  be  judged  as  having  lived  un- 
der an  economy  of  light.  This  proposition 
has  a  comfortable  aspect  on  a  good  man. 
We  shall  be  judged  according  to  what  is  clour 
in  the  gospel  itself:  and  not  according  to 
what  is  abstruse  and  impenetrable  in  the 
systems  of  the  schools.  What  inducement 
could  we  possibly  have  to  endeavour  to  inform 
ourselves,  v.'erc  we  prepossessed  with  a  no- 
tion, that  our  sentence  would  be  regulated 
by  our  ideas  on  a  thousand  questions  which 
some  men  have  boldly  stated,  rashly  decided, 
and  barbarously  enforced  on  others  .'  ^\'ere 
it  necessary  to  have  clear  and  complete  ideas 
of  the  arrangement  of  the  first  decrees  of  the 
first  cause,  of  the  nature  of  the  divine  essence, 
of  the  manner  in  which  God  foresees  contin- 
gent events,  and  of  many  other  such  ques- 
tions as  obscure  as  useless  ;  were  it  neces- 
sary, in  order  to  receive  a  favourable  sen- 
tence, to  be  able  to  decide  some  cases  of 
conscience,  which  have  always  been  indeter- 
minable by  the  ablest  casuists  ;  were  these 
necessary,  wlio  dare  e.\amine  these  ques- 
tions .-■  But,  Christian  soul!  banish  thy 
scruples.  Thy  God,  thy  Judge,  is  the  sove- 
reign of  his  creatures :  but  ho  is  not  their 
tvrant.     Then  ;irt   free  :  not  a  slave.    The 


34.4 


JUDGMENT. 


[S£R.  xxxvm. 


coonem^  according  to  wliich  Uiou  shalt  be 
judged,  is  an  economy  of  light ;  and  wliat- 
ever  is  impenetrable  and  undecided  in  the 
gDspel,  has  no  relation  to  that  trial  which 
thou  wilt  undergo. 

But  if  this  truth  be  .imiable  and  comforta- 
ble to  good  people,  it  is  also  formidable,  ter- 
rifying, and  desperate,  to  people  of  an  oppo- 
site character.  You  will  be  judg'ed  as  rea- 
sonable beings,  who  had  it  in  their  power  to 
discover  truth  and  virtue.  In  vain  will  you 
pretend  ignorance  of  some  articles.  Your 
Judge  v.all  open  this  sacred  book  in  my  band, 
in  which  the  decision  of  tliese  articles  is  con- 
tained; the  elucidation  of  all  the  truths,  of 
which  j'ou  are  wilfully  ignorant.  Will  not 
your  ignorance  appear  voluntary,  when  God 
judges  you  with  the  light  of  this  gospel  in 
hit;  hand  ? 

Nothing  is  more  common  in  the  world, 
than  to  hear  men  exculj)atc  their  errors  by 
])leading  their  sincerity.  '  If  I  be  deceived,' 
says  one,  '  in  taking  the  book  which  you  call 
Scripture  by  e.xcellence,  for  a  mere  human 
i;ompi]ation,  I  am  very  sincere  in  my  error, 
and  it  does  not  depend  on  me  to  alter  my 
ideas.'  And  wli}'  does  it  depend  on  you  to 
change  your  ideas  ?  Have  you  examined 
those  evidences  of  the  divinity  of  the  book, 
v.'hicii  shine  in  every  part  of  it  i  Have  you 
KmcG  in  your  life  thoroughly  examined  the 
sense  of  any  prophecy,  to  find  out  whether 
a  spirit  of  prophecy  inspired  the  sacred  wri- 
ters .''  Is  it  a  sincere  mistake  to  deceive 
one's  self,  rather  than  ajjply  to  this  impor- 
tant question  that  study,  tiiat  time,  and  that 
examination,  which  it  demands  ? 

*  If  I  be  in  an  error,'  says  anotJier,  '  in  ad- 
hering to  a  particular  communion,  I  err  very 
sincerely,  and  I  cannot  change  my  ideas.' 
And  why  cannot  you  change  )'our  ideas  ? 
Have  you  availed  yourself  of  the  light  of  the 
times,  in  which  you  live .''  Have  you  con- 
sulted those  ministers,  who  can  inform  you  ? 
Have  you  risen  from  that  state  of  indolence, 
case,  and  prudence,  which  inclines  people 
rather  to  take  it  for  granted,  tliat  they  were 
born  in  a  true  church,  than  to  examine  whe- 
ther they  were  so  ?  Does  it  require  more  sa- 
gacity, more  genius,  more  labour  to  find  out, 
that  in  our  Scriptures  worshipping  before 
images  of  wood  or  stone  is  forbidden;  that 
purgatory  is  a  mere  human  invention  ;  that 
the  traffic  of  indulgences  is  a  mercenary 
scheme ;  that  the  authorit}'  of  the  Roman  pon- 
tiff is  founded  only  on  worldly  policy  ?  I  ask, 
is  more  penetration  necessary  to  determine 
these  articles,  than  to  command  an  army,  to 
pursue  a  state  intrigue,  to  manage  a  trade, 
or  to  cultivate  an  art  or  a  science  .■' 

In  like  manner,  we  every  day  see  people 
in  society,  who  while  they  boldly  violate  the 
most  plain  and  allowed  precepts  of  the  gospel, 
pretend  to  exculpate  themselves  fully  by  say- 
ing, '  We  do  not  think  such  a  conduct  sinful ; 
what  crime  can  there  be  in  such  and  such  a 
practice ."" 

An  obstinate  gamester  says, '  I  think,  there 
is  no  harm  in  gaming.'  And  why  do  you 
think  so  ?  Is  not  the  gospel  before  your  eyes  ? 
Docs  not  the  gospel  tell  you,  it  is  not  allow- 
able to  deceive  ?  Does  not  the  gospel  clcar- 
ly  prohibit  a  wa.sto  of  time  .-    Dyes  not  the 


gospel  forbid  you  to  ruin  your  neighbours  .' 
Does  not  the  gospel  plainly  forbid  you  to 
cheat .'  And  \'ou  obstinate  gamester !  do  not 
you  deceive  in  gaming  ?  Do  not  you  waste 
your  time  ?  Do  not  you  do  all  in  your  power 
towards  the  ruin  of  your  neighbour .''  Do 
not  you  cheat,  while  you  play,  and  defraud 
them  who  play  with  you,  and  practise  a  thou- 
sand other  artifices  which  it  would  be  impro- 
per to  relate  here  :  but  which  God  will  oner 
day  examine  at  his  just  tribunal .' 

Thus  a  miser  exclaims,  '  O,  there  can  be 
no  harm  in  loving  the  world  as  I  love  it.' 
And  what  makes  you  think  so  ?  Could  you 
not  easily  undeceive  yourself  by  casting 
your  eyes  on  the  goppel .''  Does  not  the 
gospel  clearly  say,  '  The  covetous  shall  not 
inherit  tiie  kingdom  of  God?'  1  Cor.  vi.  10. 
Is  it  not  clearly  revealed  in  the  gospel,  that 
'  Whoso  hath  this  world's  jjood,  and  seeth  his 
brother  have  need,  and  shutteth  up  his  bow- 
els of  compassion  from  him,  the  love  of  God 
doth  not  dwell  in  him  ?'  1  John  iii.  17.  Does 
not  the  gospel  plainly  tell  you,  that  God  will 
one  day  say  to  those,  who  have  been  devoid 
of  charity,  '  Depart  ye  cursed,  into  everlast- 
ing fire !  for  I  was  an  hungred,  and  ye  gave 
me  no  meat .'"  Matt.  sxv.  41,  42, 

Thus  a  time-server  says  to  us,  'I  think 
there  is  no  sin  in  living  where  liberty  of 
conscience  is  not  allowed,  provided  I  make 
no  profession  of  superstition  and  idolatry.' 
And  why  do  you  think  so .''  Does  not  the  gos- 
pel clearly  require  you  '  not  to  forsake  the 
assembling  of  3'ourselves  together,'  Heb.  x. 
25 ;  and  do  not  you  forsake  our  public  assem- 
blies ^  Does  not  the  gospel  expressly  require 
you  to  ■  come  out  of  Babylon,'  Rev.  xviii.  4; 
and  do  you  not  abide  there  ?  Are  you  not 
informed  in  the  gospel,  that  '  he  who  loveth 
father,  or  mother,  or  son,  or  daughter  more 
than  Jesus  Christ,  is  not  worthy  of  the  name 
of  a  Christian .''  Matt.  x.  37.  And  pray, 
do  you  prefer  your  relations  before  Jesus 
Christ .' 

'  I  do  not  think,'  adds  one,  who  maintains 
an  illicit  commerce, '  there  can  be  any  harm 
in  indulging  those  passions  which  arise  from 
the  fine  feelings  of  our  own  hearts.'  And 
why  do  you  not  think  bo  ?  Does  God  forbid 
impuritj'  only  when  it  is  unconstitutional  ? 
In  the  general  rule,  which  excludes  the  un- 
clean from  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  has  the 
legislator  made  an  exception  in  favour  of 
those  who  follow  the  emotions  of  an  irregu- 
lar heart .' 

2.  We  shall  be  judged  as  having  lived  un- 
der an  economy  of  ]}roportion ;  i  mean  to 
sa}',  the  virtues  v.'hich  God  requires  of  us 
under  the  gof.;iel,  are  proportioned  to  the  fa- 
culties that  he  has  given  us  to  perform  thorn. 
Let  us  not  enfeeble  this  maxim  by  theological 
opinions,  which  do  not  belong  to  it.  Let  us 
not  allege,  that  all  duty  is  out  of  our  power, 
that  of  ourselves  we  can  do  nothing.  For 
when  we  say,  tlie  laws  of  God  are  propor- 
tioned to  our  w^eakness,  we  speaJi  of  persons 
born  in  the  church,  instructed  in  the  truths 
of  revelatioji,  and  who  are  either  assisted 
by  spiritual  succours,  or  maybe,  if  they  seek 
for  tliese  blessings  as  they  ought  to  bo  sought. 
In  regard  to  these  persons,  we  atiirm,  that 
tlie  gospel  is  an  economy  of  proportion,  and 


Her.  XXXIIl.J 


JUDGMENT. 


Ho 


this  is  the  great  consolation  of  a  good  man. 
I  grant  the  perfection,  to  which  God  calls 
us,  is  infinitely  beyond  our  natural  power,  and 
even  beyond  the  supernatural  assistance,  that 
he  imparts  to  us.  But  we  shall  be  judged  by 
the  efforts  we  have  made  to  arrive  at  this 
end.  Endeavours  to  be  perfect  will  be  ac- 
counted perfection. 

This  very  law  of  proportion,  which  will 
regulate  the  judgment  of  us,  will  overwhelm 
the  wicked  with  misery.  It  is  always  an  ag- 
gravation of  a  misery  to  reflect,  that  we 
might  have  avoided  it,  and  that  we  brought 
it  upon  ourselves.  The  least  reproach  of 
this  kind  is  a  deadly  poison,  that  envenoms 
our  sufferings  ;  and  this  will  constitute  one 
of  the  most  cruel  torments  of  the  damned. 
Ye  devouring  fires,  which  tlie  justice  of  God 
has  kindled  in  hell,  I  have  no  need  of  the 
light  of  your  flames  to  discover  to  me  the 
miseries  of  a  reprobate  soul  i  Ye  chains  of 
darkness,  which  weigh  him  down,  I  have  no 
need  to  examine  the  weight  of  you  1  The 
criminal's  own  reproaches  of  himself  are  suf- 
ficient to  give  me  an  idea  of  his  state  He 
will  remember,  when  he  finds  himself  irre- 
trievably lost,  he  will  renieaibejf  the  time, 
when  he  might  have  prevented  his  loss.  He 
will  recollect  how  practicable  those  laws 
were,  for  violating  which  he  suffers.  He 
will  recollect  the  mighty  assisting  power 
which  he  once  despised  Thou !  thou  wilt 
recollect  the  sage  advice,  that  was  given 
thee.  Thou!  this  sermon,  v/hich  I  have 
been  addressing  to  thee.  Thou  !  thine  edu- 
cation. Thou  !  the  voice  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
that  urged  thee  to  change  thy  life.  '  O  Is- 
rael! thou  hast  destroyed  thyself.'  Hos.  xiii. 
9.  This,thisis  the  excruciatmg  reflection  of  a 
nominal  Christian  condemned  by  divine  jus- 
tice to  everlasting  flames.  Such  a  Christian 
suffering  the  vengeance  of  eternal  fire  will 
incessantly  be  his  own  tormentor.  He  will 
say  to  himself,  I  am  the  author  of  my  own 
destruction !  I  might  liave  been  saved  !  I,  I 
alone  condemned  myself  to  everlasting  con- 
finement in  these  dungeons  of  horror  to  which 
I  am  now  consigned. 

3.  Finally,  We  shall  be  judged  as  having 
lived  under  an  economy  of  mercy.  What 
can  be  more  capable  at  once,  of  comforting  a 
good  man  against  an  excessive  fear  of  judg- 
ment, and  of  arousing  a  bad  man  from  his 
fatal  security .'' 

AH  the  sentiments  of  benevolence  that  you 
(.'an  expect  in  an  equitable  judge  ;  we  say 
more,  all  the  sentiments  of  tenderness,  which 
you  can  expect  in  a  sincere  friend  ;  we  say 
more  still,  all  the  sentiments  of  pity,  compas- 
sion, and  love,  that  can  be  expected  in  a  ten- 
der parent,  you  will  find  in  the  person  of 
the  Judge,  who  will  pronounce  your  eternal 
doom. 

Let  us  not  elevate  our  passions  into  vir- 
tues. Fear  of  the  judgments  of  God,  which, 
carried  to  a  certain  degree  is  a  virtue,  bo- 
comes  a  condemnable  passion,  at  least  a  frail- 
ty that  ought  to  be  opposed,  when  it  exceeds 
duo  bounds.    Do  you  render  an  acceptable 


homage  to  Almighty  God,  think  you,  by  dis- 
trusting his  mercy,  the  most  lovely  ray  of 
his  glory .'  Do  you  render  a  proper  homage 
to  God,  think  you,  by  considering  him  as  a 
tyrant  ?  Do  you,  think  you,  render  homage 
to  the  Deity  by  doubting  his  most  express 
and  sacred  promises  .'  Do  you  believe  you 
pay  an  acceptable  tribute  to  God  by  profess- 
ing to  think,  that  he  will  take  pleasure  iix 
eternally  tormenting  the  poor  creature,  who 
used  all  his  efforts  to  please  him  ;  who  mourn- 
ed so  often  over  his  own  defects ;  who  shed 
the  bitterest  tears  over  the  disorders  of  his 
life  ;  and  who,  for  the  whole  world  (had  the 
whole  world  been  at  his  disposal),  would  not 
have  again  offended  a  God,  whose  laws  he 
always  revered,  even  while  lie  was  so  weak 
as  to  break  them  .'' 

But  this  thought  that  Christians  shall  be 
judged  by  an  economy  of  mercy ;  this  very 
thought,  so  full  of  consolation  to  good  men, 
will  drive  the  wicked  to  the  deepest  despair. 
The  mercy  of  God  in  the  gospel  has  certain 
bounds,  and  we  ought  to  consider  it,  as  it 
really  is,  connected  with  the  other  perfections 
of  his  nature.  Whenever  we  place  it  in  a 
view  incongruous  with  the  other  perfections 
of  the  Supreme  Being,  we  make  it  inconsist- 
ent in  itself.  NoW  this  is  done  when  it  is 
applied  to  one  class  of  sinners.  I  repeat  it 
again,  it  is  this  that  fills  up  the  bad  man's' 
measure  of  despair. 

Miserable  wretch  !  how  canst  thou  be  sav- 
ed, if  the  '  fountain  opened  to  the  House  of 
David'  be  shut  against  thee  if  that  love, 
which  created  the  world,  if  that  love  which 
inclined  the  Son  of  God  ('  the  brightness  of 
the  Father's  glory,  and  the  express  image  of 
his  person'),  to  clothe  himself  with  mortal 
flesh,  and  to  expire  on  a  cross;  if  this  love 
be  not  sufficient  to  save  thee,  if  this  love  be 
slighted  by  thee,  by  what  means  must  thou 
be  wrought  on,  or  in  what  way  must  thou  be 
saved .'  And  if  the  Redeemer  of  the  world 
condenm  thee,  to  what  judge  canst  thou  flee 
for  absolution  P 

Let  us,  my  dear  brethren,  incessantly  re- 
volve in  our  minds  these  ideas  of  death  and 
judgment.  Let  us  use  them  to  calm  those 
excessive  fears,  which  the  necessity  of  dying, 
and  being  judged,  sometimes  excite  in  our 
souls. 

But  f  xcessive  fear  is  not  the  usual  sin  of  this 
congregation.  Our  usual  sins  are  indolence, 
carnal  security,  .-sleeping  life  away  on  the 
brink  of  an  abyss,  flames  above  our  heads, 
and  hell  beneath  our  feet. 

Let  us  quit  this  miserable  station.  '  Hap- 
py is  the  man  that  feareth  always  !'  Prov. 
xxviii.  14.  Happy  t!ie  man,  who  in  every 
temptation  by  which  he  is  annoyed,  in  a 
world  where  all  things  seem  to  conspire  to 
involve  us  in  endless  destruction  :  happy  the 
man,  who  in  all  his  trials  knows  how  to  de- 
rive consolation  from  this  seemingly  terrible 
trutii,  '  It  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to  die : 
but  after  this  the  judgment !'  To  God  be 
honour  and  glory  for  ever.     Amen. 


{!$ERMON    XXXIX, 


HEAVEN. 


1  John  iii.  3. 

We  ImoWj  that  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him  ;  for  we  shall  see 

him  as  he  is. 


One  of  the  most  beautiful  ideas  that  can 
be  formed  of  the  gospel,  is  that  which  repre- 
sents it  as  imparting  to  a  Christian  the  attri- 
butes of  God.  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  both 
express  themselves  in  a  manner  truly  sub- 
lime and  eniphatical  on  the  subject.  The 
first  of  these  holy  men  says,  the  end  of  the 
promises  of  God  is  to  make  us  '  partakers  of 
the  divine  nature,'  2  Pet.  i.  4.  The  second 
assures  us,  that  all  Christians  '  beholding  as 
in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  are  changed 
into  the  same  image,  from  glory  to  glory, 
even  ae  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,'  2  Cor. 
iii.  18.  If  we  believe  some  critics,  the  ori- 
ginal terms  may  be  rendered,  ice  all  become 
ns  mirrors.  A  mirror,  placed  over  against 
a  luminous  object,  reflects  its  rays,  and  re- 
turns its  image.  Tliis  is  agreeable  to 
Christian  experience  under  the  gospel.  Good 
men,  attentive  to  the  divine  attributes,  bow- 
ing like  the  seraphim,  towards  the  mystical 
urk,  placed  opposite  to  the  Supreme  Being, 
meet  with  nothing  to  intercept  his  rays  :  and, 
reflecting  m  their  turn  this  light,  by  imitating 
the  moral  attributes  of  God,  they  become  as 
KG  many  mirrors,  exhibiting  in  themselves  the 
objects  of  their  own  contemplation.  Thus 
God,  by  an  effect  of  his  adorable  condescen- 
sion, after  having  clothed  liimself  with  our 
flesh  and  blood,  after  having  been  '  made  in 
the  likeness  of  men,"  Phil.  ii.  7,  in  the  esta- 
blishment of  the  gospel,  transforms  this  flesh 
and  blood  into  a  likeness  of  himself.  Such  is 
the  sublimity  and  glory  of  the  hristian  reli- 
gion !  We  are  '  partakers  of  the  divine  na- 
ture ;  we  are  '  changed  into  the  same  image 
from  glory  to  glory,  even  as  by  the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord.'  Rly  brethren,  we  have  often  re- 
peated a  famous  maxim  of  the  schools,  and 
\ve  adopt  it  now,  grace  is  glory  begun.  One 
of  the  most  beautiful  ideas  that  we  can  form 
of  that  ineffable  glory,  v;hich  God  reserves 
for  us  in  heaven,  is  that  which  the  sacred  au- 
thors give  us  of  Christianity.  Heaven  and 
the  church,  the  Christian  in  a  state  of  grace,  j 
and  the  Christian  in  a  state  of  glory,  differ  | 
only  in  degree.  All  the  difference  between  i 
the  two  changes  is,  that  the  first,  I  mean  a 
Christian  in  a  state  of  grace,  retains  the  ini-  | 
perfection,  which  is  essential  to  this  life, 
whereas  the  other,  I  mean  the  Christian  in  a 
state  of  glory,  is  perfect  in  his  kind,  so  that 
both  are  changed  into  the  image  of  the  Dei- 
ty, as  far  as  creatures  in  their  conditions  are 
capable  of  being  so. 

This  is  the  difficult,  but  interesting  subject 
Avhich  wc  are  now  going  to  discuss.     We  are  ). 
going  to  inquire  into  the  question  so  famous 
}'  dare  not  t:iy  so  developed  in  the  pchools 


concerning  the  beatific  vision  of  God.  We 
will  endeavour  to  e.xplain  how  we  see  God  in 
heaven,  and  how  this  happy  vision  will  ren- 
der us  like  him,  who  will  be  the  object  of  it. 
St.  John  supplies  us  with  these  images.  He 
d'splays  the  happiness  of  Christians  thus: 
'  Behold,'  sa3's  lie,  '  what  manner  of  love  the 
Father  hath  bestowed  upon  us,  that  we  should 
be  called  the  sons  of  God.'  But  while  he 
passes  encommms  on  the  mere)'  of  God,  he 
observes,  that  we  have  only  yet  enjoyed  fore- 
tastes of  it ;  '  we  know,'  adds  he, '  that  when 
he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him ;  for  we 
shall  see  him  as  he  is.' 

Our  text  has  two  senses  ;  the  first  regards 
the  human  nature  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the 
second  the  Deity.  The  first  of  these  senses 
is  very  easy  and  natural :  '  when  the  Son  of 
God  shall  appear,  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is;* 
that  is  to  say,  when  Jesus  Christ  shall  come 
to  judge  mankind,  we  shall  see  his  glorified 
body.  '  We  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall 
see  him  as  he  is  ;  that  is,  our  bodies,  having' 
acquired  at  the  resurrection  the  properties 
of  glorified  bodies,  like  that  of  Jesus  Christ, 
shall  have  the  faculty  of  contemplating  his 
body.     This  sense  deserves  examination. 

We  have  no  distinct  idea  of  what  Scrip- 
ture calls  '  a  glorious  body,'  Phil.  iii.  21. 
The  most  abstruse  metaphysics,  the  most 
profound  erudition,  and  the  most  sublime 
theology  cannot  enable  us  fully  to  explain 
this  remarkable  passage  of  St.  Paul ;  '  There 
are  celestial  bodies,  and  bodies  terrestrial : 
but  the  glory  of  the  celestial  is  one,  and  the 
glory  of  the  terrestrial  is  another.  There  is 
one  glory  of  the  sun,  and  another  glory  of  the 
moon,  and  another  glory  of  the  stars.  So  also 
is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  The  body  is 
sown  in  corruption,  it  is  raised  in  incorrup- 
tion.  It  is  sown  in  dishonour,  it  is  raised  in 
glor}'.  It  is  sown  in  weakness,  it  is  raised  iji 
power.  It  is  sown  a  natural  body,  it  is  raised 
a  spiritual  bod}'.'  1    Cor.  xv.  40 — 44. 

But  how  difficult  soever  this  passage  may 
be,  we  know  by  experience  there  are  bodies 
to  which  our  senses  bear  no  proportion  ;  and, 
if  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak  in  this  manner, 
there  are  bodies  inapprehensible  by  our  fa- 
culty of  seeing.  There  is  no  proportion  be- 
tween my  eyes  and  bodies  extremely  small. 
My  faculty  of  seeing  does  not  extend  to  a 
mite ;  a  mite  is  a  nonentity  to  my  eye. 
There  is  no  proportion  between  my  eyes,  and 
bodies  which  have  not  a  certain  degree  of 
consistence.  i\Iy  seeing  faculty  does  not  ex- 
tend to  an  aerial  body  ;  an  aerial  body  is  a 
;nere  nonentity  in  regard  to  my  sight.  There 
is  very  little  proportion  between  my  eye? 


tisn.  XXXIXJ 


HEAVEN. 


347 


and  bodies  extraordinarily  rapid.  My  facul- 
ty of  seeing  does  not  extend  to  objects  mov- 
ing at  a  cjertain  rate ;  a  body  must  move  so 
plow  as  to  make  a  kind  of  rest  before  my  eye 
in  order  to  be  perceived  by  it ;  and,  as  soon 
as  a  greater  force  communicates  a  quicker 
motion  to  it,  it  recedes,  diminishes,  disap- 
pears. But  were  the  faculties  of  my  body 
proportioned  to  these  objects ;  had  my  body 
qualities  similar  to  theirs ;  I  should  then  be 
able  to  see  them  ;  '  I  should  see  them  as  they 
are,  for  I  should  be  like  them.' 

Let  us  apply  these  general  reflections  to 
our  subject.  There  may  be  perhaps  no  pro- 
portion between  our  bodies  in  their  present 
rarthly  state  and  what  the  Scripture  calls 
'  glorious  bodies.'  Our  faculty  of  seeing  per- 
liaps  may  not  extend  to  glorious  bodies. 
Were  the  gross  terrestrial  bodies  to  which 
our  souls  arc  united,  all  on  a  sudden  transla- 
ted to  that  mansion  of  glory,  in  whicli  the 
bodies  of  Enoch  and  Elias  wait  for  the  con- 
summation of  all  things,  probably  we  might 
I  not  be  able  to  see  them  clearly,  and  perhaps 
\vc  might  be  quite  blinded  with  the  glory  of 
them.  The  reasons  just  now  mentioned  may 
account  for  what  wc  suppose ;  as  any  who 
have  habituated  themselves  to  reflection  may 
easily  comprehend.  But  when  our  bodies 
shall  be  'changed,  when  this  corruptible 
shall  have  put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mor- 
tal shall  have  put  on  immortality,'  1  Cor.  xv. 
51.  54 ;  in  a  word,  when  our  bodies  shall 
Iiave  the  same  faculties  as  the  glorious  body 
o4'  Jesus  Christ,  '  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is, 
for  wc  shall  be  like  him.'  This  is  the  first 
Bense  given  to  the  words  of  the  text,  a  sense 
that  may  serve  to  preclude  a  part  of  the  diffi- 
rulties  which  may  arise ;  a  sense  entirely 
conformable  to  the  analogy  of  faith,  and  to  a 
great  many  other  passages  of  holy  Scripture, 
such  as  these,  'Our  conversation  is  in  hi;avf'n, 
from  whence  also  we  look  for  the  Saviour, 
tJie  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  shall  change  our 
vile  body,  that  it  may  bo  fashioned  like  unto 
hie  glorious  body,'  Phil.  iii.  20,  2[.  '  Yo  are 
dead,  and  your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God ; 
•when  Christ  who  is  our  life  siiall  appear,  then 
shall  ye  also  appear  witli  him  in  glory,'  Col. 
iii.  3,  4.  '  The  first  man  is  of  the  earth, 
earthly  ;  the  second  man  is  the  Lord  from 
heaven.  As  is  tlie  earthly,  such  are  they  al- 
so that  are  earthly  ;  and  as  is  the  heavenly, 
such  are  they  also  that  are  heavenly.  And 
as  we  have  borne  the  image  of  the  eartlily, 
vro  shall  also  bear  tho  image  of  the  heaven- 
l}-,'  1  Cor.  XV.  47,  &c. 

Grand  idea  of  heavenly  felicity,  my  brethren  ! 
Glorified  believers  shall  see  with  their  eyes 
t.hegloriousbody  of  Jesus  Christ.  Yea,  these 
eyes,  restored  to  sight,  and  endowed  with 
new  powers,  shall  see  the  God-rnan ;  they 
shall  see  tliat  body  of  tho  Saviour  of  the 
world,  which  once  '  increased  in  favour'  here 
below,  Luke  ii.52;  and  which  is  now  arrived 
at  the  highest  pitch  of  glory  m  heaven.  They 
shall  see  those  '  lips  into  which  grace  is  pour- 
ed,' Ps.  xlv.  2.  They  shall  see  that  Son  of 
man,  who  is  '  fairer  than  all  the  rest  of  the 
children  of  men.'  What  joy  to  accomplish 
this  object !  What  delight,  if  I  may  speak 
so,  when  the  rays  of  the  Deity,  always  toi- 
bright  and  confounding  formortiil  oves  to  be- 


hold, shall  be  softened  to  our  sight  in  the 
person  of  Jesus  Christ !  What  transporting 
joy  to  see  the  greatest  miracle  that  was  ever 
included  in  the  plans  of  the  wisdom  ot  God ! 
What  felicity  to  behold  in  the  body  of  Jesus 
Chiist  a  right  of  approaching  with  confidence 
to  a  familiarity  with  God  1  •  We  know,  that 
when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him, 
for  -we  shall  see  him  as  he  is.' 

But,  although  tliis  may  be  one  meaning  of 
our  apostle,  yet  it  is  neither  the  only  sense 
of  his  words,  nor  does  it  seem  to  be  the  prin- 
cipal one.  Should  any  one  doubt  what  I 
now  affirm  ;  should  any  affirm,  that  when  tho 
apostle  says,  '  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is,'  ho 
only  means  to  speak  of  the  body  of  Jesus 
Christ ;  I  would  beg  leave  to  observe,  that 
St.  John  evidently  intends  by  the  vision  of 
which  he  speaks,  that  which  consummates 
our  happiness.  Now  our  happiness  will  not 
be  consummated  by  only  seeing  the  body  of 
the  Son  of  God,  nor  by  the  glorification  of 
our  bodies  only.  Another  idea,  therefore, 
must  be  included  in  the  words  of  the  text. 

Besides,  the  original  does  not  say,  '  When 
Jesus  Christ  shall  appear,  but  when  he  shall 
appear  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is  ;'  which  may 
be  referred  to  God,  of  whom  the  apostle  had 
been  speaking  in  the  preceding  verses.  We 
shall '  see  God,'  and  this  sight  will  render  ua 
'  like  him.' 

I  even  suppose  the  words  of  my  text  are  a 
kind  of  quotation  of  an  opinion  advanced  by 
some  ancient  Jewish  Rabbles.  We  havo 
found,  as  it  were  by  chance,  and  when  we 
were  not  studying  this  text,  an  opinion  taken 
from  the  writiiigs  of  the  Jews,  which  seems 
either  to  allude  to  the  words  of  the  text,  or, 
being  more  ancient  than  the  text,  to  be  allud- 
ed to  by  the  apostle.  A  Consul  of  Rome  re- 
quired a  Rabbi  to  explain  the  names  of  God 
to  hiui.  This  is  the  answer  of  the  Rabbi  :^ 
'  You  ask  me  the  meaning  of  the  name  of 
four  letters,  and  the  name  of  twelve  letters, 
and  the  name  of  forty  letters.  (In  this  man- 
ner, my  brethren,  the  Jews  speak  of  tho 
terms  expressive  of  the  attributes  of  God.) 
But,  I  must  inform  you,  these  are  mysteries 
altogether  divine, and  which  ought  to  be  con- 
cealed from  the  generality  of  mankind.  How- 
ever, as  I  have  been  credibly  assured,  that 
you  have  rendered  many  good  services  to 
learned  men,  and  as  nothing  ought  to  be  con- 
cealed from  such  persons,  it  is  requisite  I 
should  endeavour  to  answer  your  question  to 
your  satisfaction.  I  declare  then,  that,  strict- 
ly speaking,  there  is  no  name  given  to  God, 
by  which  we  can  be  made  fully  to  compre- 
hend what  he  is.  His  name  is  his  essence,  of 
wliich  we  can  form  no  distinct  idea  ;  for  could 
we  fully  comprehend  the  essence  of  God  wo 
should  be  like  God.'"  These  words  are  full 
of  meaning,  and,  were  it  necessary  to  explain 
them,  they  would  open  a  wide  field  to  our 
meditation.  They  lay  down  a  principle  of 
momentary  use  to  us,  that  is,  that  we  must  be 
infinite  in  order  fully  to  comprehend  an  infi- 
nite being.  We  will,  however,  take  a  slight 
cursory  view  of  the  subject.  Wo  will  exam- 
I  ine  how  we  shall  '  see  God,'  and  at  the  same 
I  time,  how  we  shall  be  rendered  like  him  by 
!      Rabbi  Neheuiias  in  I'pistola  sanoior.  ad  filium  smna 


.'348 


HEAVEN. 


ISeb.  XXXIX. 


seeing  him ;    for  in  the  sense  now  given,  we 
understand  tiie  text. 

God  is  an  immaterial  being.  This  prin- 
ciple is  unanimously  established  both  by  the 
light  of  nature,  and  by  revealed  religion.  An 
immaterial  being  cannot  be  seen  by  material 
eyes.  Tliis  is  another  incontestable  principle. 
It  must  be,  then,  with  the  mind  that  •  we  shall 
see  God  as  he  is,'  that  is  to  say,  we  shall 
'  know'  him.  It  must  be  the  mind,  therefore, 
that  must  be  rendered  '  like  him.'  This  con- 
sequence immediately  follows  from  both  our 
principles ;  and  this  consequence  is  one 
ground  of  our  reflections. 

God  is  an  infinite  being.  This  also  is  a 
principle  established  by  both  natural  and  re- 
vealed religion.  The  soul  of  man  is  finite, 
and,  to  whatever  perfection  it  may  be  advan- 
ced, it  will  always  continue  to  be  so.  This  is 
another  indisputable  principle.  It  would  im- 
ply a  contradiction  to  affirm  that  an  infinite 
Spirit  can  be  seen,  or  fully  known,  in  a  strict 
literal  sense, '  as  it  is,'  by  a  finite  spirit.  The 
human  soul  therefore,  being  a  finite  spirit,  can 
never  perfectly  see,  that  is,  fully  comprehend, 
•  '  as  he  is,'  God,  who  is  an  infinite  spirit.  The 
proposition  in  our  text  then  necessarilv  re 
quires  some  restriction.  This  inference  arises 
immediately  from  the  two  principles  now  laid 
down,  and  this  second  consequence  furnishes 
another  ground  of  our  reflections. 

But,  although  it  would  be  absurd  to  suppose 
that  God,  an  infinite  spirit,  can  be  fully  known 
by  a  finite  human  spirit,  yet  there  is  no  ab- 
surdity in  affirming,  God  can  communicate 
himself  to  man  in  a  ver}^  close  and  intimate 
manner,  proper  to  transforiiihim.  This  may 
bo  done  four  ways.  There  are,  we  conceive, 
four  sorts  of  communications  ;  a  comnmnica- 
tion  of  ideas,  a  conmumication  of  love,  a  com- 
munication of  virtue,  and  n  communication  of 
felicity.  In  these  four  waj's '  we  shall  see  God,' 
and  by  thus  seeing  him  'as  he  is.  v.-e  shall  be  like 
liim'  in  these  four  respects.  We  will  endea- 
vour, by  discussing  each  of  these  articles,  to 
explain  them  clearly  ;  and  here  all  your  at- 
tention will  be  necessary,  for  without  this 
our  whole  discourse  will  be  nothing  to  you 
but  a  sound  destitute  of  reason  and  sense. 

The  first  communication  will  be  a  commu- 
nication of  ideas.  Wc  '  shall  see  God  as  he 
is,'  because  we  shall  particij)ate  o?  his  ideas ; 
and  by  seeing  God  as  he  is,  we  shall  become 
'like  him,'  because  the  knowledge  of  his 
ideas  will  rectify  ours,  and  will  render  them 
like  his.  To  knnw  the  ideas  of  an  iiiijierfect 
being  is  not  to  participate  his  imperfections, 
an  accurate  mind  may  know  the  ideas  of  aii 
inaccurate  mind  without  admitting  them.  But 
to  know  the  ideas  of  a  perfect  spirit  is  to  par- 
ticipate his  perfections  ;  because  to  know  his 
ideas  is  to  know  them  as  they  are,  and  to 
know  them  as  they  are  is  to  perceive  the  evi- 
dence of  them.  VVhen,  therefore,  God  shall 
communicate  his  ideas  to  us,  '  wo  shall  be 
like  him,'  by  the  conformity  ef  our  ideas  to  his. 

What  are  the  ideas  of  God  .'  They  are  clear 
in  their  nature ;  they  are  clear  in  their 
images,  they  are  perfect  in  their  degree  ; 
they  are  coiiiple.K  in  their  relations;  and  they 
are  complete  in  their  number.  In  all  these 
lespects  the  ideas  of  God  are  infinitely  supe- 
rior to  the  ideas  of  men. 


1.  Men  are  full  of  false  notions.  Their 
ideas  are  often  the  very  reverse  of  the  ob- 
jects, of  which  they  should  be  clear  represen- 
tations. We  have  false  ideas  in  physics, 
false  ideas  in  polity,  false  ideas  in  religion. 
We  have  false  ideas  of  honour  and  of  dis- 
grace, of  felicity  and  of  misery.  Hence  wpi 
often  mistake  fancy  for  reason,  and  shadow 
for  substance.  But  God  has  only  true  ideas. 
His  idea  of  order  is  an  exact  representation 
of  order.  His  idea  of  irregularity  e.xactly 
answers  to  irregularity ;  and  so  of  all  otiier 
objects.  He  will  make  us  know  his  ideas,  and 
by  making  us  know  them  he  will  rectify  ours. 

2.  Men  have  often  obscure  ideas.  They 
see  only  glimmerings.  They  perceive  ap- 
pearances rather  than  demonstrations.  They 
are  placed  in  a  world  of  probabilities,  and,  in 
consideration  of  this  state,  in  which  it  has 
pleased  the  Creator  to  place  them,  they  havo 
more  need  of  a  course  of  reasoning  on  a  new 
plan,  to  teach  them  how  a  rational  creature 
ought  to  conduct  himself,  when  ho  is  sur- 
rounded with  probabilities,  than  of  a  courso 
of  reasoning  and  determining,  which  sup- 
poses him  surrounded  with  demonstration. 
But  God  has  on\y  clear  ideas.  Novell  covers 
objects  ;  no  darkness  obscures  his  ideas  of 
them.  When  he  siiall  appear,  he  will  com- 
municate his  ideas  to  us,  and  they  will  rectify 
ours,  he  will  cause  the  scales  that  hide  ob- 
jects from  us,  to  fall  from  our  eyes  ;  and  he 
will  dissipate  the  clouds  which  prevent  our 
clear  conception  of  them. 

3.  Men  have  very  few  ideas  perfect  in 
(leo-rec.  They  see  only  the  surface  of  objects. 
Who,  in  all  the  world,  has  a  perfect  idea  of 
matter  .'  Who  ever  bad  perfect  ideas  of  spi- 
rit.-' Who  could  ever  e.xactly  define  eitlier.-* 
Who  was  ever  able  to  inform  us  how  the 
idea  of  motion  results  from  that  of  body  ;  how 
the  idea  of  sensation  results  from  that  of 
spirit .''  Who  ever  knew  to  which  class  space 
belongs  .'  It  would  be  very  easy,  my  brethren, 
to  increafj  this  list,  v.'ould  time  permit;  and 
were  I  not  prevented  by  knowing,  that  they, 
who  are  incapable  of  understanding  these 
articles,  have  already  in  their  own  minds 
pronounced  them  destitute  of  all  sense  and 
reason.  But  God  has  perfect  ideas.  His 
ideas  comprejicnd  the  whole  of  all  objects. 
He  will  communicate  to  us  this  disposition  of 
mind,  and  will  give  us  such  a  penetration  a.s 
shall  enable  us  to  attain  the  knowledge  of 
the  essence  of  beings,  and  to  contemplate 
them  in  their  whole. 

4.  Men  have  very  few  ideas  complex  in 
their  relations.  I  mean,  their  minds  are  so 
limited,  that,  although  they  may  be  capable- 
of  combining  a  certain  number,  of  ideasj,  yet 
tiiey  aie  confounded  by  combining  a  greater 
number.  We  have  distinct  ideas  of  units, 
and  we  are  capable  of  combining  a  few:  but 
as  soon  as  we  add  hundred  to  hundred,  mil- 
lion to  million,  the  little  capacity  of  our 
souls  is  overwhelmed  with  the  multitude  of 
these  objects,  and  our  weakness  obliges  us  to 
sink  under  the  weight.  W^e  have  a  few  ideas 
of  moticm.  We  know  what  space  a  body,  to 
which  a  certain  degree  of  velocity  is  com- 
municated, must  pass  through  in  a  given 
time:  but  as  soon  as  we  suppose  a  greater 
defrrec  of  motion,  as  soon  as  we    imagine 


Seh.  XXXIX.j 


JIEAVEN. 


349 


an  augmentation  of  velocity  to  this  greater 
degree  ;  as  soon  as  we  try  to  apply  our  know- 
ledge of  moving  powers  to  tiiosc  enormous 
■bodies,  whicli  the  mighty  hand  of  God  guides 
in  the  immensity  of  space,  we  are  involved  in 
perplexity  and  confusion.  But  God  con- 
ceives iufinitc  coinbination.  He  will  make  us 
participate,  as  far  as  our  minds  can,  his  ideas  ; 
so  that  we  shall  be  able  to  give  a  large  ex- 
M  panse  to  our  meditation  without  any  i'ear  of 
"    confusing  ourselves. 

5.  In  fine,  the  ideas  of  mankind  are  incom- 
plete in  their  nujiibcr  Most  men  think,  there 
are  only  two  sorts  of  beings,  body  and  spirit ; 
and  they  Imve  also  determined,  that  there 
can  be  only  two.  A  rash  decision  in  itself: 
but  more  rash  still  in  a  creature  so  confined 
in  ^is  geniusas  man.  But  the  ideas  of  God 
are  complete.  H  e  knows  all  possible  beings. 
He  will  make  us  participate  this  disposition  of 
inind,  and  from  it  may  arise  ideas  of  myriads 
of  beings,  on  which  now  we  cannot  reason, 
■  because  now  we  have  no  ideas  of  them.  A 
communication  of  ideas  is  the  first  way  in 
which  God  will  make  himself  known  to  us. 
This  will  be  the  first  trait  of  our  resemblance 
of  him.  '  We  .shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall 
see  him  as  he  is.' 

The  second  communication  of  God  to  a 
beatified  soul  is  a  communication  oflove.  We 
cannot  possibly  partake  of  the  ideas  of  God 
without  participating  his  love.  To  partici- 
pate the  ideas  of  God  is  to  possess  just  no- 
tions. To  possess  just  notions  is  to  place 
each  object  in  the  rank  that  is  due  to  it ; 
consequently,  we  shall  regard  the  chief  be- 
ing as  the  only  object  of  supreme  love. 

What  is  necessary  to  answer  the  idea,  that 
an  upright  soul  forms  of  the  lovely .''  The 
lovely  object  must  answer  three  ideas  :  the 
idea  of  the  great  and  marvellous;  tlie  idea  of 
the  just ;  and  the  idea  of  the  good  :  and,  if  1 
may  venture  to  speak  so,  of  the  beatifying. 
Now,  it  is  impossible  to  know  God  without  en- 
tertaining tiiese  three  ideas  of  him  alone  ;  con- 
sequently it  is  impossible  to  know  God  with- 
,  out  loving  him.  And  this  is  the  reason  of 
1  our  profound  admiration  of  the  morality  of 
the  gospel.  The  morality  of  the  gospel  is 
the  very  quintessence  of  order.  It  informs 
us,  no  creature  deserves  supreme  love.  It 
makes  this  principle  the  substance  of  its  laws. 
'  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all 
thy  mind,'  Matt.  xxi.  37. 

How  worthy  of  supreme  love  will  this  God 
appear,  how  fully  will  he  answer  the  idea  of 
the  great  and  the  marvullous,  when  '  \vc 
shall  see  him  as  he  isl'  He  will  answer  it  by 
his  independence.  Creatures  exist :  but 
they  have  only  a  borrowed  being.  God  de- 
rives his  existence  from  none.  He  is  a  self- 
existent  Being.  He  will  answer  our  idea  of 
the  magnificent  by  the  immutability  of  liis 
nature.  Creatures  exist :  but  they  have  no 
fixed  and  permanent  being.  They  arise  from 
nothing  to  existence.  Their  existence  is  ra 
ther  variation  and  inconstancy  than  real 
being.  But  God,  but '  I  the  Lord,'  savs  he 
of  himself,  '  1  change  not,'  Mai.  iii.  G.  '  The 
same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever,'  Heb. 
xiii.  8.  He  is,  as  it  were,  the  fixed  point,  on 
which  all  creatures  revolve,  while  he  is  nei-  ■ 

2  Y 


ther  moved  by  their  motion,  shaken  by  their 
action,  nor  in  the  least  imaginable  degree 
altered  by  all  their  countless  vicissitudes.  Ho 
will  answer  the  idea  of  the  great  and  mar- 
vellous by  the  efficiency  of  his  will.  Crea- 
tures have  some  efficient  acts  of  volition : 
but  not  of  thciuselves. — But  go  back  to  that 
period  in  which  there  was  nothing.  Figure 
to  yourselves  those  immense  voids,  which 
preceded  the  formation  of  the  universe,  and 
represent  to  yourselves  God  alone.  He 
forms  tlic  plan  of  the  world.  He  regulates 
tiie  whole  design.  He  assigns  an  epoch  of 
durntion  to  it  in  a  pouit  of  eternity.  This 
act  of  his  will  produces  this  whole  universe. 
Hence  a  sun,  a  moon,  and  stars.  Henco 
earth  and  sea,  rivers  and  fields.  Hence  kings, 
princes,  and  philosophers.  '  He  spake,  and  it 
was  done  ;  he  commanded,  and  it  stood  fast. 
The  heavens  were  made  by  the  word  of  the 
Lord,  and  all  the  host  of  them  by  the  breath 
of  his  moutii,'  Ps.  xxxiii.  9.  God) then,  per- 
fectly answers  our  idea  of  the  grand  and  the 
marvellous.  He  answers  also  the  idea  of  the 
just.  \- 

It  was  he  who  gave  us  an  idea  o^ju^stice  or 
order.  It  was  he  who  made  the  greatest 
sacrifices  to  it.  It  was  he  who  moved  heaven 
and  earth  to  re-establish  it,  and  who  testified 
how  dear  it  was  to  him  by  sacrificing  the 
most  worthy  victim  that  could  possibly  suffer, 
I  mean  his  only  Son. 

Finally,  God  will  perfectly  answer  our 
idea  of  the  good  and  the  beatifying.  Who 
can  come  up  to  it  except  a  God,  who  opens 
to  his  creatures  an  access  to  his  treasures.-* 
A  God,  who  reveals  himself  to  them  in  order 
to  take  tiiem  away  from  their  '  broken  cis- 
terns,' and  to  conduct  them  to  the  '  fountain 
of  living  waters,'  Jer.  ii.  13.  A  God,  whose 
eternal  wisdom  cries  to  mankind,  '  Ho,  every 
one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters, 
and  he  that  hath  no  money,  come  ye ;  buy 
and  eat ;  3'ea  come  ;  buy  wine  and  milk  with- 
out money,  and  without  price.  Wherefore 
do  you  spend  money  for  that  which  is  not 
bread  ?  and  your  labour  for  tiiat  which  satis- 
fietli  not  ?  Hearken  diligently  unto  me,  and 
eat  ye  that  which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul 
delight  itself  in  fatness.  Incline  your  ear, 
and  come  unto  me ;  hear,  and  your  soul  shall 
live,'  Isa.  Iv.  1 — 3. 

We  cannot,  then,  know  God  without  lov- 
ing him.  And  tlmsa  communication  of  ideas 
leads  toacommunicationoflove.  But  this  com- 
munication of  love  will  render  us  lifcc  the  God 
whom  we  admire  For  the  property  of  love 
in  a  soul  inflamed  with  it,  is  to  transform  it 
in  some  sort  into  the  object  of  its  admiration. 
This  is  particularly  proper  to  divine  love. 
We  love  God,  because  we  know  his  attributes; 
when  we  know  his  attributes,  we  know  we 
can  no  better  contribute  to  the  perfection  of 
our  being  than  by  imitating  them,  and  the 
desire  we  have  to  perfect  our  being  will  ne- 
cessitate us  to  apply  wholly  to  imitate  them, 
and  to  become  Zi/.c  him. 

Let  us  pass  to  our  third  consideration.  The 
third  connnunication  of  God  to  a  beatified 
soul  is  a  communication  of  his  virtues.  To  love 
and  to  obey,  in  Scripture-style,  is  the  same 
thinn-.  'Ifye  love  me,keep  my  commandments,' 
is  a  well  known  expression  of  Jesus  Christ, 


3JU 


JIEAVE.V, 


[i^ER.  XXXIX. 


John  xiv.  15.  ']Jo  who  sailii  I  know  him, 
and  keepeth  not  his  coinmandnicnts,  is  a  liar, 
a-hd  the  truth  is  not  in  him,'  is  an  expression 
of  our  apostle,  1  John  ii.  4.  Tliis  is  not  pe- 
oulinr  to  the  lovo  of  God.  To  love  and  to 
obey,  even  in  civil  society,  are  usually  two 
things  wiiich  have  a  very  close  conne.xion 
But,  as  no  creature  has  ever  excited  all  the 
love,  of  which  a  soul  is  capable,  so  there  is 
no  creature  to  whom  we  have  rendered  a  per- 
fect obedience.  It  is  only  in  regard  to  God, 
that  there  is  an  inseparable  connexion  be- 
tween obedience  and  loye.  For  when  we 
love  God,  because  we  know  him,  we  are 
soon  convinced,  that  he  cannot  ordain  any 
thing  to  his  creature  but  wliat  is  useful  to 
him  ;  when  we  are  convinced  he  can  ordain 
Jiothing  to  bo  performed  by  his  creature  but 
•what  is  useful  to  him,  it  becomes  as  impos- 
sible not  to  obey  him  as  it  is  not  to  love  our- 
selves. To  lovo  and  obey  is  one  thing,  then, 
when  the  object  in  question  is  a  being  su- 
premely lovely  These  are  demonstrations  ; 
but  to  obey  God,  and  to  keep  his  command- 
ments, is  to  be  like  God. 

The  commandments  of  God  are  formed  on 
t^io  idea  of  the  divine  perfections.  God  has  an 
idea  of  order  ;  he  loves  it;  he  follows  it ;  and 
Ihisisall  he  ever  has  required,  and  all  he  ever 
■will  require,  of  his  intelligent  creatures.  He 
lequires  us  to  know  order,  to  love  it,  to  follow 
it.  An  intelligent  creature,  therefore,  who 
fjhall  be  brought  to  obey  the  commandments 
i)f  God  will  be  like  God.  '  Be  ye  perfect,  as 
your  Father,  which  is  in  heaven,  is  perfect,' 
JMatt.  v.  4c.  '  Be  ye  holy,  for  I  am  holy,'  1 
Pet  i.  IG.  '  Every  man,  that  hath  this  hope 
jin  him,  purifieth  himself,  even  as  he  is  pure,"  1 
John  iii.  3.  These  precepts  are  given  us 
here  on  earth,  and  we  obey  them  imperfectly 
now  :  but  we  shall  yield  a  perfect  obedience, 
to  them  in  heaven,  when  we  shall  'see  him 
as  he  is.'  Here  our  apostle  afiirms,  •  Who- 
soever sinneth,  hath  not  seen  him,  neither 
known  him,'  ver.  0  ;  that  is  to  say,  he  who 
suffers  sin  to  reign  over  him,  does  not  know 
God  ;  for,  if  he  knew  God,  he  would  have 
just  ideas  of  God,  he  would  love  him  ;  and, 
if  he  loved  him,  he  would  imitate  him.  But 
in  heaven  we  shall  see,  and  know  him,  we 
sihall  not  sin,  we  shall  imitate  him,  '  we  shall 
be  like  hiin,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is.' 

Lastly,  The  fourth  communication  of  the 
Deity  with  beatified  souls  is  a  communication 
f)f  felicity.  In  an  economy  of  order,  to  be 
holy  and  tobe  happy  are  two  things  very  close- 
ly connected.  Now  we  are  in  an  economy  of 
disorder.  Accordingly,  virtue  and  felicity  do 
not  always  keep  company  together,  and  it 
fiometimes  happens,  that  for  '  having  hope  in 
Christ  we  are,'  for  a  while.  '  of  all  men  most 
miserable,'!  Cor.  xv.  19.  But  this  economy 
of  disorder  must  be  abolished.  Order  must 
be  established.  St.  Peter,  speaking  of  Jesus 
Christ,  says,  '  The  heavens  must  receive  him 
lintil  the  times  of  the  restitution  of  all  things,' 
Acts  iii.  21 .  When  all  things  shall  be  restor- 
ed, virtue  and  happiness  will  be  closely  uni- 
ted, and,  consequently,  by  participating  the 
holiness  of  God,  we  shall  participate  his  hap- 
piness. 

God  is  supremely  good.  He  is  naturally 
inclined  by  his  vsvn  j)e.rfecti©n?  t*  do  good. 


Rather  tlian  include  himself  in  liis  own  feli- 
cit3\  he  went  out  of  himself  in  the  works  of 
creation.  He  formed  creatures  capable  of 
his  favours.  But  these  very  perfections, 
which  inclined  him  to  do  good,  prevent  his 
rendering  impure  and  criminal  creatures  hap- 
py. -.He  is  of  purer  dyes  than  to  behold 
evil,'  Hab.  i.  13.  This  is  the  cause  of  the 
innumerable  penal  evils,  under  which  wo 
groan.  For  this  reason  there  are  miserable 
people.  Remove  this  obstacle,  and  God  will 
follow  his  inclination  to  bounty.  All  crea- 
tures capable  of  being  happy  would  be  ren- 
dered perfectly  happy.  In  heaven  this  ob- 
stacle will  be  removed.  • 

Moreover,  we  may  offer,  if  I  may  be  allow- 
ed to  speak  so,  a  more  evangelical  reason  to 
confirm  this  article.  One  part  of  the  cove- 
nant of  grace  between  the  eternal  Father 
and  the  Son,  v.hen  the  Son  became  incarnate, 
was,  that  the  Father  should  restore  them  to 
happiness,  whom  the  Son  should  redeem. 
Hence  this  adorable  Son  of  God,  in  the  sa- 
cerdotal prayer,  which  he  offered  to  the 
Father  the  evening  before  he  offered  him- 
self a  sacrifice  to  death  on  the  cross,  repeats 
this  clause  of  the  covenant ;  '  I  have  mani- 
fested thy  name  unto  the  -.men  which  thou 
gavest  me  out  of  the  world  :  thine  they  were, 
and  thou  gavest  them  me  ;  and  they  have  kept 
thy  word.  Father,  I  will  that  they  also,whom 
thou  hast  given  me,  be  with  me  where  I 
am,  that  they  may  behold  my  glory,'  John 
xviii   G.  24. 

God  is,  then,  inclined  by  the  nature  of  hi.^ 
perfections,  and  by  the  spirit  of  the  covenant 
made  with  Jesus  Christ,  to  render  like  him- 
self, in  regard  to  his  felicity  those,  who  are  al- 
ready made  like  him  in  regard  to  his  ideas,  in 
regard  to  his  love.and  in  regard  to  his  holiness  ; 
and  this  is  the  fourth  sense  of  the  proposition 
in  our  text,  •  We  shall  be  like  liim,  for  we 
shall  see  him  as  he  is.'  This  is  the  fourth 
communication  of  God  to  glorified  souls.  He 
will  communicate  his  felicity  to  them.  What 
constitutes  the  felicity  of  God  will  constitute 
the  felicity  of  glorified  souls. 

God  is  happy  in  contemplating  his  7Corks. 
He  approves  all  the  plans  that  his  intelligence 
has  conceived,  and  which  his  wisdom  and 
power  have  so  gloriously  executed,  •  He  seeth 
every  thing  that  he  hath  made,  and  approves 
it  as  very  good,'  Gen.  i.  31.  God  will  dis- 
cover these  works  to  glorified  souls.  He  will 
displov  before  them  all  the  pompous  decora- 
tions of  nature.  He  will  direct  their  atten- 
tion to  the  symmetiy,  the  niagnihcence,  the 
number  of  those  luminous  bodies,  those  flam- 
ing spheres,  which  appear  to  ovir  weak  eyes 
at  present  as  only  so  many  sparks. 

(jod  is  happy  in  contemplating  his  provi- 
dence, and  the  nuirvcllous  manner  in  which 
he  governs  llie  universe.  God  will  discover 
this  perfect  government  to  glorified  souls. 
Then  will  aj)pear  the  folly  of  the  many  objec- 
tions, which  at  present  perplex  our  minds  on 
the  darkness  of^  Providence ;  then  will  the 
many  injurious  suspicions  vanish,  which  we 
have  entertained  concerning  the  government 
of  the  world ;  then  will  all  the  sophisms  bo 
confounded,  that  rash  human  minds  have 
formed  concerning  the  manner  in  which  Gcxl, 
has  distributed  goo'i  aud  evil. 


Ukr.  XXXlX.j 


GjI 


God  is  happy  in  the  contemplation  of  his 
designs.  The  active  spirit  of  the  first  great 
cause  will  diversify  his  works  infinitely,  and 
for  ever  ;  he  judges  of  what  may  be  as  of  wiiat 
is,  and  determines  of  the  possible  world  as  of 
%  that  which  actually  exists,  that  all  is  very 
, '  good.  He  will  communicate  these  designs  to 
fTlorified  souls.  '  Shall  I  liide  from  Abraham 
the  thing  which  I  do?'  said  God  once  to  that 
)  patriarch.  Gen.  xviii.  17.  Agreeably  to 
which,  Jesus  Christ  said  to  his  apostles, 
'  Hencefortli  I  call  you  not  servants :  but  I 
have  called  you  friends ;  for  the  servant 
knoweth  not  what  his  Lord  doth  :  but  all 
things  that  I  liave  lieard  of  my  Father,  I  have 
made  known  unto  you,'  John  xv.  15.  God 
will  hide  nothing  from  glorified  souls.  He 
will  open  to  them  inexhaustible  treasures  of 
wisdom  and  knowledge.  Ho  will  display  in 
their  sight  all  that  would  result  from  them.  ] 
Tie  will  anticipate  the  future  periods  of  etor-  | 
nity  (if  we  may  speak  of  future  periods  when  j 
we  speak  of  eternity),  and  he  will  show  them  j 
every  moment  of  this  infinite  duration  signal- 
ized by  some  emanation  of  his  excellence. 

God  is  happy  in  certain  sentiments,  which 
may  probably  bear  some  analogy  to  what  we 
call  in  ourselves  sensations.  At  least,  we 
may  assure  ourselves,  to  be  rendered  capable 
of  pure  sensations  would  contribute  very 
much  to  the  perfection  and  happiness  of  our 
souls.  Sensations  lively,  aftecting  and  deli- 
cious, we  know,  contribute  to  our  present  fe- 
licity. They  who  have  aftectci  to  refine  and 
spiritualize  our  ideas  of  felicity,  and  to  free 
them  from  every  thing  sensitive,  I  think, 
have  mistaken  the  nature  of  spirit  God  will 
impart  to  glorified  souls  all  the  scntiuients  of 
which  they  arc  capable.  He  will  make  them 
feel  something  more  harmonious  than  the 
best  compositions  of  music  ;  something  more 
delicious  than  the  most  exquisite  tastes:  and 
so  of  the  rest.  God  is  happy  in  the  society 
of  the  spirits  which  surround  him.  He  is  the 
centre  of  all  their  felicity.  He  accepts  their 
adoration  and  homage.  He  reflects  their 
services  to  him  on  themselves.  God  will 
receive  glorified  souls  into  this  society.  lie 
will  unite  us  to  angels  and  seraphims,  thrones, 
dominions,  and  cherubims,  and  to  all  other 
happy  intelligent  beings,  which  are  without 
number,  and  of  infinite  variety.  Their  feli- 
city will  make  our  felicity,  as  our  happiness 
will  make  tiieir  happiness.  '  There  will  be 
joy  in  heaven  over'  many  '  repenting  sinners,' 
Luke  XV.  7. 

But  this  subject  carries  mo  beyond  all  due 
l)ounds.  The  imagination  of  a  hearer,  less 
warmed  ti:an  that '  of  a  preacher,  cannot  ex 
tend  itself  so  far  as  he  would  conduct  it.  Only 
recollect,  then,  and  unite  the  ideas,  which 
we  have  been  mentioning.  '  We  know,  when 
lie  shall  appear,  wo  shall  see  Jiim  as  he  is.' 

This  passage,  we  say,  seems  to  offer  two 
sonses.  The  iirst  regards  the  human  nature 
of  Jesus  Christ.  '  VVe  shall  see'  the  glorious 
body  of  Jesus  Christ  '  as  it  is  ;'  because  our 
bodies,  being  rendered  glorious  like  his,  will 
have  faculties  relative  to  his,  and  proper  to 
enable  us  to  perceive  it. 

The  other  sense  regards  the  Deity.  '  Wo 
shall  see'  God,  not  with  the  eyes  of  our  bodies, 
but  with  the  eyes  of  tlie  mind,  that  is  to  say, 


we  shall  know  hiiu.  '  We  shall  see  liim  as  he 
is,'  not  literally  and  fully,  for  God  is  an  infi- 
nite Spirit,  who  cannot  be  fully  comprehend- 
ed by  infinite  beings :  but  we  shall  kno\y 
him,  as  much  as  it  will  be  possible  for  us  to 
know  him,  and  our  resemblance  to  him  will 
bear  a  proportion  to  our  knowledge  of  him  He 
will  communicate  himself  to  us.  There  will 
be  four  communications  between  God  and 
glorified  souls  ;  a  communication  of  ideas,  of 
love,  of  holiness,  and  of  happiness. 

And,  what  deserves  our  particular  regard, 
because  it  is  most  admirable,  is,  these  four 
communications  aro  connected  together,  and 
flow  from  one  another.  Because  we  shall 
'  see  God  as  he  is,  we  shall  be  like  him.'  Bo 
cause  we  shall  know  his  ideas,  we  shall  be 
possessed  of  a  rectitude  of  thought  like  his. 
Because  we  shall  possess  a  rectitude  of 
thought  like  his,  we  shall  know  that  he  is 
supremely  lovely,  and  cannot  but  love  him. 
Because  we  cannot  help  loving  him,  we  can- 
not help  imitating  his  holy  conduct,  as  holi- 
ness will  appear  the  perfection  of  our  nature. 
Because  wo  shall  imitate  his  holiness,  we 
shall  participate  his  happiness  ;  for  he  is  na- 
turally inclined  by  his  own  perfections  to 
render  those  intelligent  beings  happy  like 
himself,  who  like  him  are  in  a  state  of  order. 
The  three  last  communications  are,  then, 
immediate  consequences  of  the  first,  and  the 
first  is  the|ground  of  the  rest ;  '  we  shall  bo 
like  him,  tor  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is.'  Then 
will  all  the  divine  plan  of  human  redemption 
by  Jesus  Christ  be  fully  executed.  Then 
all  the  privileges  of  our  adoption,  and  of  the 
love  that  elevated  us  to  a  condition  so  noble, 
and  glorious,  vv'ill  clearly  appear.  '  Behold! 
wiiat  manner  of  lovo  the  Father  hath  be- 
stowed upon  us,  that  we  should  be  called  the 
sons  of  God  !  Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons 
of  God,  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we 
shall  be  :  but  we  know,  that  when  he  shall  ap- 
pear, we  shall  be  like  him ;  for  wo  shall  see 
liim  as  he  is.' 

This  is  the  plan  of  God  in  regard  to  man : 
a  plan  diametrically  opposite  to  that  of  Satan. 
The  olan  of  Satan  is  to  render  man  unlike 
to  God.  Satan  has  been  too  successful  in 
the  execution  of  his  design.  '  A  liar  and  u- 
murderer  from  the  beginning,'  John  viii.  44  ; 
he  seduced  our  first  parents  ;  he  made  them 
fall  from  truth  to  error,  from  error  to  vice  : 
nlready  he  has  robbed  us  of  tho  glory  of  our 
first  innocence  ;  already  he  has  darkened  our 
understandings  :  already  succeeded  in  making 
us  find  that  pleasure  in  vice,  which  ought  tf> 
follow  virtue  only  ;  and,  having  communica- 
ted his  vice  to  us,  he  has  made  us  partake  of 
his  miseries  ;  hence  the  air  becomes  infected, 
hence  the  ocean  becomes  a  grave  to  mari- 
ners, hence  animals  rebel  against  him  whA 
was  originally  appointed  to  be  their  lord  and 
king,  hence  passion,  revenge  and  hatred, 
which  begin  a  hell  upon  earth,  hence  maladies 
which  consume  our  days  in  pain,  and  death, 
that  most  formidable  weapon  of  tlie  devil,  to 
put  a  period  to  them,  and  hence  '  the  Idie 
which  burnetii  with  fire  and  brimstone,'  Rev. 
xxi.  8,  in  which  this  wicked  spirit  will  strive 
to  alleviate  tlie  pain  of  his  own  punishment 
by  the  infernal  pleasure  of  having  compan- 
ions of  his  miscrv. 


S52 


HEAVEN. 


[S'er.  XXXIX. 


*rhc  plan  of  the  Son  of  God  is  opposite  to 
that  of  Satan  :  '  for  this  purpose  was  the  Son 
of  God  manifested,  that  he  might  destroy  the 
works  of  the    devil,'  1  John   iii.   8.      These 
words   almost   immediately  follow  the   text 
Already  this   adorable    Son   has   reconciled 
mankind  to  God  by  rendering    the  deity  ac- 
cessible, by  taking  onhimtJie  nature,  and  the 
innocent  infirmities  of  men  ;  already  he  has 
appeased  by  his  sacrifice  tlie  just  wrath  of  a 
God,  who  to  punish  men  for  imitating  Satan 
was  about  to  deliver  them  up  to  him  ;  and  al- 
ready has  he  given  the  death-wound  to  the 
empire  of  this  usurper  of  tlie  rights  of  God  ; 
'  having  spoiled  principalities  and  powers,  he 
made    a  show    of  them  openly,    triumphing 
over  them  in   the  cross,'  Col.  ii.    15.     The 
Son  of  God  has  already  elevated  the  Chris- 
tian above  the  vicissitudes  of  life,  by  detach- 
ing him  from  life,  and  by  teaching  liim    the 
blessed  art  of  deriving    advantages  from  his 
miseries  ;  already  has  he  dissipated  the  dark- 
ness of  error,  by  causing  the  light  of  revela- 
tion to  rectify  all    the  abuses  that  even  the 
greatest  philosophers  made    of  the  light  of 
nature  ;  already  has  he  attacked  human  de- 
pravity at  its  centre,  and  separated  the  souls 
of  the  elect  from  the  seeds  of  sin,  by  causing 
•his  seed  to  remain  ^n  them,  so  that  they 
cannot  sin,  because   they  are  born  of  God,' 
as  our  apostle  expresses  it,  1  John  iii.  9  ;  al- 
ready he  has   imparted  to  their  consciences 
that '  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing,' Phil.  iv.  7,  and  by  which  they  are 
'  raised  up  together,  and  made  to  sit  together 
in  heavenly  places  in  Christ  Jesus,'   Eph.  iii. 
6;  already   has  he  made  them  '  partakers  of 
the  divine  nature,'  2  Pet.  i.  4,  and  he  has  alrea- 
dy '  changed  them  into  the  same  image  from 
glory  to  glory  by  his  Spirit,'  2.  Cor°  iii.  18. 
He  is  preparing  to  finish  his  work.     Shortljr 
he  will  make  that  second  appearance,  which 
is  the  object  of  the  hopes  of  his  churches,  and 
for  which  his  children  cr}',   '  Come  Lord  Je- 
sus I  come  quickly  !'  Rev.  xxii.  20.     Shortly 
he  will   reduce   to   dust   these   organs,  this 
'  flesh  and  blood,   which   cannot   inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God,'  1  Cor.  xv.  50.     Shortly  he 
will  raise   these  bodies  from  the   dust  with 
new  faculties.     Shortly  he  will  remove  the 
veils  that  hide  the  essence  of  the  Creator 
from  us,  and  will  show  it  to  us  as  it  is,   so 
that  we  may  be  rendered  like  it.     These  are 
two  very  different  plans,  my  brethren ;  the 
one  is  the  plan  of  God,  and  the  other  that  of 
the  devil ;  the  one  is  the  desicrn  of  the  enemy 
of  mankind,  the  other  that  of  their  Redeemer. 
Into  which  of  these  two  plans  do  you  pro- 
pose to  enter  ?   Into  the  plan  of  God,  or  into 
that  of  the  devil  ?  Which  of  these  two  beings 
do  you  wish  to  resemble.'  Would  you  be  lite 
God,  or  would  you  have  the  features  of  Sa- 
tan ?  This  question  may  perhaps  be  already 
answered   by  some  of  you.      Great  God  !  to 
what  are  we  reduced,  to  be  obliged  to  suppose, 
at  least  to  have  great  reason  to  fear,  that  in 
this  church,  built  for  the  assembly  of  saints, 
and  for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of  Christ,'Eph. 
iv.  21,  there  are  any  imitators  of  the  devil! 
To  what   are   wo   reduced  to  be   obliged  to 
suppose,  at  least  to   have  just   grounds  of 
fear,  that    in  this   assembly,    composed    of 
children  of  God,  who  coiue  to  appear  in  his 


presence,  there  arc  any  children  of  the  devil ! 
But  the  frightful  in  a  supposition  does  not 
tal^e  away  the  possibility  of  it. 

Perhaps  the  question  may  have  been  fully 
answered   already  by  some  of  our  hearers. 
What  idea  must  we  form  of  a  man,  who  em- 
'doys  all  his   talents  to  enervate  truth,  to  at- 
tack religion,  to  render  doubtful  the  being  of 
a  God  ;  who  attributes   the   creation  of  the 
world  to  blind  chance  ;  and  brings  into  ques- 
tion the   reality  of  a  state  of  future  rewards 
and  punishments  ?   What  idea  must  be  form- 
ed of  a  man.  who  employs  himself  wholly  in 
increasing  his    fortune    and  establishing    his 
family,  how  iniquitous  soever  the  means  may 
be  which  contribute  to  his  end  ;  who  robs  the 
widow  and  the  orphan,   embroils  the  state, 
elevates  to  the  most  eminent  posts  in  society 
men  who  hardly  deserve  to  live  ;  who  would 
subvert   this    whole    republic,    and    erect   a 
i  throne  for  himself  and  his  family  on  its  ruins? 
I  What  must  we    think    of  a  man    who  daily 
I  blasphemes   the  God  of  heaven,    and    inccs- 
I  santly  pours  out  murmurs  and  charges  against 
the  Governor  of  the  universe  ?  What  can  we 
I  think  of  a  man,  who  wallows  in  debauchery, 
!  who,  in  spite  of  those  penalties  of  sin,  which 
he  bears  about  in  his  bod)^,  in  spite  of  the  in- 
fection  and  putrefaction  that  his   infamous 
lasciviousness  has  caused  in  his  body,  indem- 
nifies himself  for  his  present  pains  by  repeat- 
ing  his  former  pleasures,  and  yet  searches 
among  the  ruins  of  his  mortal  body  some  por- 
tion, that,  having  escaped  the  punishment  of 
his  crimes,  may  yet  serve  his  unbridled  con- 
cupiscence .'  Were  such  men  descended  from 
the  most  illustrious  ancestors  ;  had  they,  like 
Lucifer  himself,  a  heavenly  origin  ;  did  their 
power  equal  that  of  the  prince  of  the  air ; 
were    their  attendants  as  numerous  as  tho 
legions  of  that  miserable  spirit ;    could  their 
riches  and  affluence  raise  winds  and  storms, 
that  would  shake  the  whole  world  ;  had  they 
in  their  hands  the  sword  of  justice,  and  were 
they   considered   as  gods   upon   earth,   and 
'  cliildren   of  the  Most  High,'  Ps,    Ixxxii.  7. 
I  should  not  be  afraid  to  say,  while  they  aban- 
don themselves  to  these  excesses,  I  detest 
and  abhor  them  as  devils. 

But  you,  my  brethren,  you,  who  ought  to 
be  the  most  holy  part  of  the  church ;  you, 
who  pretend  to  glory  in  bearing  the  name  of 
Christian,  and  who  aspire  after  all  the  privi- 
leges and  recompenses  of  Christianity  ;  into 
which  of  the  two  plans  do  you  propose  to 
enter  .'  Into  the  plan  of  Satan,  or  into  that 
of  God  .'  Which  of  the  two  beings  do  you  wish 
to  resemble  ?  Would  you  resemble  God,  or 
would  you  bear  the  features  of  the  devil? 
Let  not  the  mortifying  in  this  question  pre- 
vent your  examination  of  it.  It  is  far  better 
to  acknowledge  a  mortifying  truth,  than  to 
persist  in  a  flattering  falsehood. 

The  purpose  of  God,  as  we  just  now  said, 
is  to  render  us  like  himself,  by  communicat- 
ing his  knowledge,  by  imparting  sound  ideas 
to  us.  Do  you  enter  into  this  design?  Are 
you  labouring  to  form  this  feature  ;  you,  who 
neglect  the  cultivation  of  your  minds;  you, 
who  suffer  yourselves  to  be  enslaved  by  pre- 
judice ;  you,  who,  so  far  from  being  teachable, 
are  angry  when  we  attempt  to  remove  your 
errors,  and,  consider  those  as  your  enemies 


Skr.  XXXIX.] 


HEAVEN, 


653 


who  tell  you  the  truth  P  The  design  of  God, 
we  just  now  told  you,  is  to  render  us  lilic  him- 
sclj  by  communicating  his  love  to  us.  Do 
j'ou  enter  into  this  plan  ?  Are  you  endeavour- 
ing to  form  this  feature,  you  who  feel  no 
other  flame  than  that,  which  worldly  objects 
Idndle,  and  which  the  Scripture  calls  *  enmity 
with  God,'  James  iv.  4 ;  you  who,  .at  the 
most,  perform  only  some  exterior  duties  and 
ceremonies  of  religi&n,  and  dedicate  to  these 
only  a  few  hours  on  a  Lord's  day  ;  and  who 
lay  out  all  your  vigour  and  zeal,  perform- 
ances, emotions  and  passions,  on  the  world  .•" 
The  design  of  God,  we  said,  is  to  render 
us  like  himself  hy  enabling  us  to  imitate  his 
holiness.  Do  you  enter  into  this  part  of  his 
design.'  Do  you  desire  to  resemble  God,  you, 
who  conform  to  this  present  world  ;  you,  who 
'run  with  them  to  the  same  e.'tcess  of  riot,' 
1  Pet.  iv.  4  ;  you,  who  sacrifice  your  souls  to 
fashion  and  custom  .''  The  design  of  God,  we 
told  you,  is  to  render  us  like  fumself  by  com- 
municating his  felicity  to  us.  Do  yon  enter 
into  this  part  of  his  plan .'  Are  you  labouring 
to  attain  this  resemblance  of  the  Deity  .'  Are 
you  seeking  a  divine  felicity  ?  Do  you  place 
'  your  hearts  where  your  treasure  is  ?'  Matt. 
vi.  21.  Do  you  '  seek  those  things  which  are 
above  .-"  Col.  iii.  11.  You,  who  are  all  taken 
up  with  worldly  attachments  ;  3-ou,  who  are 
endeavouring  by  reputation,  and  riches,  and 
worldly  grandeurs,  to  fasten  yourselves  for 
ever  to  the  world  as  to  the  centre  of  human 
felicity  ;  you,  whose  little  souls  are  all  confin- 
ed to  the  narrow  circle  of  the  present  life  ; 
you,  who  turn  pale,  when  we  speak  of  dying ; 
you,  who  shudder,  when  we  treat  of  that  eter- 
nal gulf,  on  the  brink  of  which  you  stand, 
and  which  is  just  ready  to  swallow  you  up 
in  everlasting  wo  ;  do  you  enter  into  the 
design  of  participating  the  felicity  of  God  .'' 

Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves,  my  brethren  ! 
We  cannot  siiare  the  second  transformation 
unless  we  partake  of  the  first ;  if  v.'e  would 
be  like  God  in  heaven,  we  must  resemble  him 
Jiere  in  his  church  below.  A  soul,  having 
these  first  features,  experiencing  this  first 
transformation,  is  prepared  for  eternity ; 
when  it  enters  heaven,  it  will  not  alter  its 
condition,  it  will  only  perfect  it.  The  most 
beautiful  object,  that  can  present  itself  to  the 
eyes  of  such  a  soul,  is  the  divine  Redeemer, 
the  model  of  its  virtues,  the  original  cf  its 
ideas.  Hast  thou  experienced  the  first  trans- 
formation ?  Hast  thou  already  these  features .-' 
Dost  thou  ardently  desire  the  appearance  of 


the  SoH  of  God ;  and,  should  God  present 
himself  to  thee  as  he  is,  couldst  thou  bear 
the  sight  without  trembling  and  horror  ?  Ah, 
my  brethren  !  how  miserable  is  a  mind,  when 
it  considers  Him  as  an  object  of  horror,  whom 
it  ought  to  consider  as  an  object  of  its  desiro 
and  love  !  How  miserable  is  a  soul,  which, 
instead  of'  loving  the  appearing  of  the  Lord,. 
the  righteous  judge,'  as  St.  Paul  expresses 
it,  2  Tim.  iv.  8,  has  just  reason  to  dread  it! 
How  wretched  is  the  case  of  the  man,  who, 
instead  of  crying, '  Come  Lord  Jesus  !  come 
quickly  !'  Rev  xxii.  20,  cries.  Put  off  thy 
coming;  defer  a  period,  the  approach  of 
which  I  cannot  bear;  thy  coming  will  be  the 
time  of  my  destruction  ;  thine  appearing  will 
discover  my  shame  ;  thy  glory  will  be  my 
despair  ;  thy  voice  will  be  the  sentence  of  my 
eternal  misery  ;  instead  of  hastening  to  meet 
thee,  I  will  avoid  thy  presence  ;  I  will  strive 
to  '  flee  from  thy  Spirit,'  Ps.  cxxxix.  7  ;  I  will 
call  to  my  relief  the  '  mountains'  and  tho 
'  rocks,'  Rev.  vi.  16.  and,  provided  they  can 
conceal  me  from  thy  terrible  presence,  it  will 
signify  nothing,  should  they  crush  me  by 
their  fall,  and  bury  me  for  ever  in  their 
ruins. 

Let  not  such  frightful  sentiments  ever  re- 
volve in  our  minds,  Christians.  Let  us  now 
begin  the  great  work  of  our  transformation. 
Let  us  commune  with  God.  Let  us  apply 
all  our  efforts  to  obtain  the  knowledge  of 
him.  Let  us  kindle  in  our  souls  the  fire  of 
his  love.  Let  us  propose  his  holiness  for  our 
example.  Let  us  anticipate  the  felicity  of 
heaven.  Indeed,  we  shall  often  be  interrup- 
ted in  this  great  work.  We  shall  oflen  find 
reason  to  deplore  the  darkness  that  obscures 
our  ideas,  the  chilling  damps  which  cool  our 
love,  and  the  vices  that  mix  with  our  virtues ; 
for  the  grief  which  these  imperfections  will 
csuse  will  frequently  lower  our  felicity.  But 
hope  will  supply  the  place  of  fruition.  Our 
souls  will  be  all  involved  in  evangelical  con- 
solations, and  all  our  bitterness  will  be  sweet- 
ened with  these  thoughts  of  our  apostle,  '  Be- 
hold !  what  manner  of  love  the  Father  hath 
bestowed  upon  us,  that  we  should  be  called 
the  sons  of  God  :  therefore  the  world  know- 
eth  us  not,  because  it  knew  him  not.  Beloved, 
now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth  not 
yet  appear  what  we  shall  be  ;  but  we  know, 
that  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like 
him :  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is.'  To  him 
be  honour  and  glory  for  ever.    Amen. 


f^^EKMON    XL. 


HELL. 


Kevelation  xiv    11. 
ilnd  the  smoJce  of  their  torment  ascendcth  up  for  ever  and  ever. 


"Violent  diseases  require  violent  re- 
medies. This  is  an  incontestable  maxim  in 
the  science  of  the  human  body,  and  it  is 
equally  true  in  religion,  the  science  that  re- 
gards the  soul.  If  a  wound  be  deep,  it  is  in 
vain  to  heal  the  surface,  the  malady  would 
become  the  more  dangerous,  because  it  would 
spread  inwardly,  gain  the  nobler  parts,  con- 
sume the  vitals,  and  so  become  incurable. 
Such  a  wound  must  be  cleansed,  probed,  cut, 
and  cauterized  :  and  softening  the  most  ter- 
rible pains  by  exciting  in  the  patient  a  hope 
of  being  healed,  he  must  be  persuaded  to  en- 
dure a  momentary  pain  in  order  to  obtain  a 
future  firm  established  health.  Thus  in 
religion  ;  when  vice  has  gained  the  heart, 
and  subdued  all  the  faculties  of  the  soul,  in 
vain  do  we  place  before  the  sinner  a  few  ideas 
of  equity  ;  in  vain  do  we  display  the  magni- 
ficence of  the  heavens,  the  beauties  of  the 
church,  and  the  charms  of  virtue  ;  '  the  arrows 
of  the  Almighty' must  be  fastened  in  him. 
Job  vi.  4,  '  terrors,  as  in  a  solemn  day,  must 
be  called  round  about'  him,  Lam.  ii.  22,  and 
'knowing  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,'  wc  must 
■persuade  the  man,  as  the  holy  Scriptures  ex- 
press it. 

My  brethren,  let  us  not  waste  our  time  in 
declaiming  against  the  manners  of  the  times. 
Let  us  not  exaggerate  the  depravity  of  Chris- 
tian societies,  and  pass  encomiums  on  former 
ages  by  too  censoriously  condenming  our 
own.  Mankind  have  always  been  bad  enough, 
and  (rood  people  have  always  been  too  scarce. 
There  are,  however,  we  must  allow,  some 
times,  and  some  places,  in  which  Satan  has 
employed  moio  means,  and  has  striven  with 
more  success  to  execute  his  fatal  design  of 
destroying  mankind  than  in  others.  Observe 
this  reflection.  A  violent  malady  must  have 
a  violent  remedy  ;  and  this,  which  we  bring 
you  to-day,  certainly  excels  in  its  kind.  The 
lloly  Spirit  conducts  us  to-day  in  a  road  dif- 
ferent from  that  in  which  he  formerly  led  the 
Hebrews  ;  and,  to  address  you  properly,  we 
must  change  the  order  of  St.  Paul's  words, 
and  say,  '  Vc  are  not  come  unto  mount  Zion, 
and  unto  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the  hea- 
venly Jerusalem  :  but  ye  are  come  unto  a 
burninor  fire,  unto  blackness,  and  darkness, 
and  tempests,  chap.  xii.  23.  We  are  going 
to  place  before  your  eyes  eternity  with  its 
abysses,  the  fiery  lake  with  its  flames,  devils 
with  their  rage,  and  hell  with  its  horrors. 

Great  God!  suspend  for  a  Cew  moments 
the  '  small  still  voice  of  thy  gospel  I'  1  Kings 
xix.  12.  For  a  few  moments  let  not  this 
auditory  hear  the  church  •  shouting,  Grace, 
srace  unto  it !'  Zcch.  iv.  7.    Let  the  blessed 


anj^cls,  that  assist  in  our  assemblies,  for 
awhile  leave  us  to  attend  to  the  miseries  of 
the  damned  !  I  speak  literalh' ;  I  wish  these 
miserable  beings  could  show  you  for  a  mo- 
ment the  weight  of  their  chains,  the  voracity 
of  their  flames,  the  stench  of  their  smoke. 
Happy  I  if  struck  with  these  frightful  objects, 
we  imbibe  a  holy  horror,  and  henceforth  op- 
pose against  all  our  temptations  the  words  of 
our  text, '  the  smoke  of  their  torment,  ascend- 
eth  up  for  ever  and  ever !' 

I  have  borrowed  these  words  of  St.  John. 
In  the  preceding  verses  he  had  been  speaking 
of  apostates  and  idolaters,  and  them  he  had 
particularly  in  view  in  this  ;  '  If  any  man 
worship  the  beast,  and  his  image,  and  receive 
his  mark  in  his  forehead,  or  in  his  hand,  the 
same  sliall  drink  of  the  wine  of  the  wrath  of 
God,  which  is  poured  out  without  mixturo 
into  the  cup  of  his  indignation,  and  he  shall 
be  tormented  with  fire  and  brimstone,  in  the 
presence  of  the  holy  angels,  and  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  Lamb  ;  and  the  smoke  of  their 
torment,'  adds  the  apostle,  in  the  text,  '  as- 
cendcth up  for  ever  and  ever.' 

But  do  not  think  this  sentence  must  be  re- 
strained to  these  sort  of  sinners.  It  is  denoun- 
ced against  other  kinds  of  sinners  in  other  pas- 
sages of  Scripture.  '  His  fan  is  in  his  hand,' 
said  the  forerunner  of  Jesus  i.hrist,  '  and  he 
will  thoroughly  purge  his  floor,  and  gather 
his  wheat  into  the  garner  :  but  he  will  burn 
up  the  chaft'  with  unquenchable  fire.'  Matt, 
iii.  12. 

It  shall  not  be,  then,  to  apostates  and  idol- 
aters only  that  we  will  preach  to-day ;  al- 
though, alas !  was  it  ever  more  necessary 
to  speak  to  them  than  now.'  Did  any  age  of 
Christianity  ever  see  so  many  apostates  as 
this,  for  which  providence  has  reserved  us  ? 
O!  could  I  transport  myself  to  the  ruins  of  our 
churches  !  I  would  thunder  in  the  ears  of  our 
brethren,  who  have  denied  their  faith  and 
religion,  the  words  of  our  apostle  ;  '  If  any 
man  worship  the  beast,  and  his  imago,  he 
aliall  be  tormented  with  fire  and  brinuitonc, 
and  the  smoke  of  his  torment  shall  ascend  up 
for  ever  and  ever  !' 

We  will  consider  our  text  in  a  more  gene- 
ral view,  and  wc  divide  our  discourse  into 
three  parts. 

I.  We  will  prove  that  the  doctrine  of  eter- 
nal puniahment  is  clearly  revealed. 

II.  We  will  examine  the  objections,  which 
I  reason  opposes  against  it ;  an  J  we  will  show, 
I  that  there  is  nothing  in  it  incompatible  with 
'  the  perfections  of  God,  or  the  nature  of  man. 
'      III.  We  will  address  tho  subject  to  such  as 

admit  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  of  eternal 


tdER.  XL.] 


HELL. 


355 


punishments:  but  live  in  indolence,  and  un- 
affected with  it  This  is  the  whole  plan  of 
this  discour.se. 

I.  We  affirm,  there  is  a  hell,  punishments 
finite  in  degree  :  but  infinite  in  duration.  We 
do  not  intend  to  estabhsh  here  in  a  vague 
manner,  that  there  is  a  state  of  future  re- 
wards and  punishments,  by  laying  before  you 
the  many  weighty  arguments  taken  from  the  j 
,  sentiments  of  conscience,  the  declarations  of 
Scripture,  the  confusions  of  society,  the 
unanimous  consent  of  mankind,  and  the  attri- 
butes of  God  himself;  arguments  which  pla- 
cing in  the  clearest  light  the  truth  of  a  judg- 
ment to  come,  and  a  future  state,  ought  for 
ever  to  confound  those  unbelievers  and  liber- 
tines, who  glory  in  doubting  both.  We  are 
going  to  address  ourselves  more  in\mediately 
to  another  sort  of  people,  who  do  not  deny  the 
truth  of  future  punishments  :  but  who  dimi- 
nish the  duration  of  them  ;  who  either  in  re- 
gard to  the  attributes  of  God,  or  in  favour  of 
1  their  own  indolence,  endeavour  to  persuade 
I  themselves,  that  if  there  be  any  punishments 
'  after  death,  they  will  neither  be  so  general, 
nor  so  long,  nor  so  terrible,  as  people  imagine. 
Of  this  sort  was  that  father  in  the  primi 
tive  church,  who  was  so  famous  for  the  ex- 
tent of  his  genius,  and  at  the  same  time  for 
the  extravagance  of  it ;  admired  on  the  one 
hand  for  attackinif  and  refuting  the  errors  of 
the  enemies  of  religion,  and  blamed  on  the 
other  for  injuring  the  very  religion  that  he 
defended,  by  mixing  with  it  errors  mon- 
strous in  their  kind,  and  almost  infinite  in 
their  number.*  He  affirmed,  that  eternal 
punishments  were  incompatible  both  with  the 
perfections  of  God,  and  that  instability,  which 
is  the  essential  character  of  creatures  ;  and 
mixing  some  chimeras  with  his  errors,  he  ad- 
ded, that  spirits,  afler  they  had  been  purified 
by  the  fire  of  hell,  would  return  to  the  bosom 
of  God ;  that  at  length  they  would  detach 
themselves  from  him,  and  that  God  to  pun- 
ish their  inconstancy  would  lodge  them  ao-ain 
in  new  bodies,  and  that  thus  eternity  would 
be  nothing  but  periodical  revolutions  of  time. 
Such  also  were  some  Jewish  Rabbles,  who 
acknowledge,  in  general,  that  there  is  a  hell: 
but  add,  there  is  no  place  in  it  for  Israelites, 
not  even  for  the  most  criminal  of  them,  ex- 
cepting only  those  who  abjure  Judaism  ;  and 
feven  these,  they  think,  after  they  have  suf- 
fered for  one  year,  will  be  absolutely  annihi- 
lated. 

Such  was,  almost  in  our  own  days,  the 
iiead  of  a  famous  sect,  and  such  were  many 
of  his  disciples.  They  thought,  that  the 
souls  of  all  men,  good  and  bad,  passed  into  a 
state  of  insensibility  at  death,  with  this  dif- 
ference only,  that  the  wicked  cease  to  be, 
and  are  absolutely  annihilated,  whereas  the 
righteous  will  rise  again  into  a  sensibility  in 
a  future  period,  and  will  be  united  to  a  glo- 
rious body  ;  that  those  wicked  persons,  who 
shall  be  alive,  when  Jesus  Christ  shall  come 
to  judge  tl.-'o  world,  will  be  the  only  persons, 
•who  will  a]>pear  in  judgment  to  receive  their 
condemnation  there  ;  and  that  these,  after 
they  shall  have  been  absorbed  in  the  general 


*  Ongen,  wlio  was  misguided  by  the  J'ythagorcan 
imilosopliy,or  the  doctrine  of  Metempsyoliosis.whicfl 
<i:ir  Saviour  has  condemncil,  John  3.3.  J.  S. 


conflagration,  which  they  say,  is  the  gchenna, 
or  ItcU-fire,  of  which  Scripture  speaks.  Matt. 
V.  22,  will  be  annihilated  with  the  devils  and 
the  fires  of  hell;  so,  that,  according  to  them, 
nothing  will  remain  in  nature  but  the  abode 
of  happy  spirits. 

Such  are  the  suppositions  of  those,  who  op- 
pose the  doctrine  we  are  going  to  establish. 
Let  us  endeavour  to  refute  them. 

1.  Scripture  gives  no  countenance  to  this 
absurd  opinion,  that  the  wicked  shall  have 
no  part  in  the  resurrection  and  judgment. 
What  could  St  Paul  mean  by  these  words, 
'  Despisest  thou  the  riches  of  the  goodness 
of  God  .''  after  thy  hardness,  and  impenitent 
heart,  dost  thou  treasure  up  unto  thyself 
wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath,  and  revela- 
lation  of  the  righteous  judgment  of  God .'' 
Rom.  ii.  4,  5.  What  does  he  mean  by  these 
words,  '  We  must  all  appear  before  the  judtr- 
ment-seat  of  Christ,  that  every  one  may  re- 
ceive the  things  done  in  his  body,  accordinf 
to  that  he  hath  done,  whether  it  be  good  or 
bad.''  2  Cor.  V.  10.  What  does  St.  John  in- 
tend by  these  words,  '  I  saw  the  dead  small 
and  great,  stand  before  God,  the  sea  gave  up 
the  dead  which  were  in  it,  and  they  wore 
judged  (every  man)  according  to  their  works  ; 
and  whosoever  was  not  found  written  in  the 
book  of  life,  was  cast  mto  the  lake  of  fire !' 
Rev.  XX.  12,  13.  15.  What  meant  Jesus 
Christ,  when  he  said,  '  The  hour  is  cominc, 
in  the  which  all  that  are  in  the  graves  shall 
hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  shall 
come  forth  ;  they  that  have  done  good  unto 
the  resurrection  of  life ;  and  they  that 
have  done  evil  unto  the  resurrection 
of  damnation .'"  John  v.  28,  29.  Any  thintr 
may  be  glossed  over,  and  varnished :  biit 
was  ever  gloss  more  absurd  than  that  of 
some,  who  pretend,  that  the  resurrection 
spoken  of  in  the  last  quoted  words  is  not  to 
be  understood  of  a  literal  proper  resurrection  s 
but  of  sanctification,  which  is  often  called  a 
resurrection  in  Scripture  ?  Does  sanctifica- 
tion then  raise  some  unto  a  resurrection  of 
Life,  and  others  unto  a  resurrection  of  dam' 
nation  ? 

2.  Scripture  clearly  affirms,  that  the  pun- 
ishment of  the  damned  shall  not  consist  of  an- 
nihilation, but  of  real  and  sensible  pain.  This 
appears  by  divers  passages.  Our  Saviour 
speaking  of  Judas,  said,  '  It  would  have  been 
good  for  that  man,  if  he  had  not  been  born,' 
Matt.  xxvi.  24.  Hence  we  infer,  a  state 
worse  than  annihilation  was  reserved  for  this 
miserable  traitor  ;  for  had  the  punishment  of 
his  crime  consisted  in  annihilation  only,  Judas, 
having  already  enjoyed  many  pleasures  in  this 
life,  would  have  been  happier  to  have  been 
than  not  to  have  been.  Again,  Jesus  Christ 
says,  '  It  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  the  land 
of  Sodom  in  the  day  of  Judgment  than  for 
thee,'  Matt.  xi.  24.  Hence  we  infer  again, 
there  are  some  punishments  worse  than  an- 
nihilation ;  forif^Sodomand  Capernaum  wore 
both  annihilated,  it  would  not  bo  true,  that 
the  one  would  be  in  a  '  more  tolerable'  state 
than  the  other. 

Scripture  images  of  hell,  which  are  many, 
will  not  allow  us  to  confine  future  punishment 
to  annihilation.  It  is  a  worm,  a.  fire,  a  dark- 
ness ;  they  are  chains,  weeping,  xcailing,  and 


6oG 


HELL. 


Sek.  XL. 


gnashing  of  teeth ;  expressions  which  we 
will  explain  by  and  by.  Accordingly,  the  dis- 
ciples of  tlie  liead  of  the  sect  just  now  men- 
tioned, and  whose  S3^stem  we  oppose,  have  re- 
nounced these  two  parts  of  tlieir  Master's 
doctrine,  and,  neither  denying  the  jrenerality 
of  these  punishments,  northe  reality  of  them, 
are  content  to  oppo.sc  their  eternity. 

3.  But,  it  appears  by  Scripture,  that  future 
punishment  will  be  eternal  The  holy  Scrip- 
ture represents  another  life  as  a  state,  in 
which  there  will  be  no  room  for  repentance 
and  mercy,  and  where  the  wicked  shall  know 
nothing  but  torment  and  despair.  It  com- 
pares the  duration  of  the  misery  of  the  damn- 
ed with  the  duration  of  the  felicity  of  the 
blessed.  Future  punishment  is  always  said 
to  be  eternal,  and  there  is  not  the  least  hint 
given  of  its  coming  to  an  end.  '  Depart,  ye 
cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the 
devil  and  his  angels,'  Matt.  xxv.  41.  '  Their 
■worm  diethnot.  and  the  fire  is  not  quenched," 
Mark  ix.  44.  '  If  thy  hand  oftend  thee,  cut  it 
off;  it  is  better  for  thee  to  enter  into  life 
maimed,  rather  than,  having  two  hands,  to 
be  cast  into  everlasting  fire,'  Matt,  xviii.  8. 
*  The  devil,  that  deceived  them,  v\-as  cast  into 
the  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone,  where  the 
beast,  and  the  false  prophet  are,  and  shall  be 
tormented  day  and  night  for  ever,'  Rev.  xx. 
10.  Again  in  our  text,  '  the  smoke  of  their 
torment  ascendeth  up  for  ever  and  ever.' 
1  hese  declarations  are  formal  and  express. 

i^utj  as  the  word  eternal  does  not  always 
signify  proper  and  literal  eternity,  it  is  pre- 
sumed, the  Spirit  of  God  did  not  intend,  by 
attributing  eternitv  to  future  punishment, 
strictly  and  literally  to  aflirm,  that  fiiture 
punishment  should  never  end  :  but  only  that 
it  should  endure  many  ages. 

We  grant,  my  brethren  the  word  eternal 
docs  not  always  signify  properly  and  literal)}' 
eternity.  It  has  several  meanings  ;  but  there 
are  three  principal.  Sometimes  eternity  is 
attributed  to  those  beings  which  are  as  old  as 
the  world.  Thus  we  read  of  '  everlasting 
hills,'  or  '  mountains  of  eternity,'  Gen.  xlix. 
Sometimes  it  is  put  for  a  duration  as  long  as 
the  nature  of  the  thing  in  question  can  permit. 

Thus  it  is  said,  a  servant,  who  would  not 
accept  his  liberty  in  the  seventh  year  of  his 
servitude,  should  serve  hi^  Master/or  ever, 
Exod.  xxi.  fi,  that  is,  until  the  time  of  the 
Jubilee,  for  then  the  Jewish  republic  was 
new  modelled,  and  all  slaves  were  set  free. 
Sometimes  it  expresses  any  thing  perfect  in 
its  kind  and  which  has  no  succession.  Tlius 
the  sacrifice  of  Melchisedec.  and  that  of  Jesus 
Chri.^t,  of  wiiich  the  first  was  a  shadow, 
iibide  confimiaUy,  or  for  ever.  Heb.  vii  3. 
Thi3  term  then,  must  be  taken  in  a  metapho- 
rical sense  in  the  three  following  cases. 

1.  jyiicn  that,  which  is  called  etcrnalin  one 
jtlac.e,  is  said  m  another  to  come  to  an  end. 
Thus,  it  was  said,  the  ceremonial  law  was  to 
endure /or  ever.  This  expression  must  not 
bo  taken  literally ;  for  all  the  prophets  in- 
formed their  countrymen,  that  tlie  ceremonial 
economy  was  to  end,  and  to  give  up  to  a  bet- 
ter. Now  the  holy  Scriptures  do  not  restrain 
in  any  one  passage  what  it  establishes  in 
others  concerning  the  eternity  of  future  pun- 
ishments, 


2.  A  metaphorical  sense  must  be  given  to 
the  term,  7vhen  the  sacred  history  assures  us, 
that  what  it  calls  eternal  has  actually  come 
to  an  end.  Thus,  it  is  plain,  the  fire  of 
Sodom  was  not  eternal ;  for  sacred  history  in- 
forms us,  it  was  extinguished  after  it  had 
consumed  that  wicked  city,  and  it  is  called 
eternal,  only  because  it  burned  till  Sodom 
v/as  all  reduced  to  ashes,  Jude.  7.  But  what 
history  can  engage  us  to  understand  in  this 
sense  the  eternity  attributed  to  the  torments 
of  tlie  wicked .'' 

3.  The  term  must  be  taken  metaphorical- 
ly when  the  subject  spoken  of  is  not  capable 
of  a  proper  eternal  duratioii,  as  in  the  case 
just  now   mentioned,  that  a  mortal    servant 
sliould  eternaUy  serve  a  mortal  master.    But,   ||i 
we  presume,  the  eternity  of  future  punish-      f 
ment  in  a  strict  literal  sense  implies  no  con- 
tradiction, and  perfectly  agrees  with  the  ob- 
jects of  our  contemplation.     This  leads  us  to 
our  second  part,  in  which  we  are  to  examine      ' 
those     objections,     which     reason    opposes       i 
against  the  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment.  1 

II.  If  the  doctrine  of  eternal   punishment      ' 
imply  a  contradiction,  it  must  either  regard 
man.  the   sufferer  of  the  pain,   or  God,  who 
threatens  to  inflict  it. 

1 .  The  nature  of  man  has  nothing  incon- 
gruous with  that  degree  and  duration  of  pun- 
ishment, of  which  we  speak.  Turn  your  at- 
tention to  the  following  reflections. 

Nothing  but  an  express  act  of  the  will  of 
God  can  annihilate  a  soul.  No  person  in  the 
world  can  assure  himself,  without  a  divine 
revelation,  that  God  will  do  this  act.  What- 
ever we  see.  and  know  of  our  soul,  its  hopes 
and  fears,  its  hatred  and  love,  all  afford  a  pre- 
sumption, that  it  is  made  for  an  eternity  of. 
happiness  or  misery. 

The  will  of  God  is  the  only  cause  of  the 
sensations  of  our  souls  that  alone  establishes 
a  commerce  between  motion  and  sensation, 
sensation  and  motion.  His  will  alone  is  the 
cause,  that  from  a  separation  of  the  com- 
ponent parts  of  the  hand  by  the  action  of  fire 
there  results  a  sensation  of  pain  in  the  soul; 
so  that,  should  it  please  him  to  unite  a  con- 
demned soul  to  particles  of  inextinguishable 
fire,  and  should  tliere  result  from  the  activity 
of  this  fire  violent  anguish  in  the  soul,  there 
would  be  nothing  in  all  this  contrary  to  daily 
natural  experiment. 

Farther,  Weigh  particularly  the  following 
reflection.  Choose,  of  all  the  systems  of 
philosophers,  that  wiiich  appears  most  rea- 
sonable ;  believe  the  soul  is  spiritual,  believe 
it  is  matter  ;  think,  it  must  naturally  dissolve 
with  the  body,  believe  it  must  subsist  afler 
tlie  ruin  of  the  body  ;  take  which  side  you 
will,  you  can  never  deny  tliis  principle,  nor 
do  I  know,  that  any  philosopher  has  ever  de- 
nied it :  that  is,  that  God  is  able  to  preserve 
soul  and  body  for  ever,  were  they  perishable 
by  nature  ;  and  this  act  of  his  will  would  be 
equal  to  a  continual  creation.  Now,  this  prin- 
ciplQ  being  granted,  all  arguments  drawn 
from  the  nature  of  man  to  prove  its  incon- 
gruity witli  the  Scripture  idea  of  eternal 
punishment  vanish  of  themselves. 

But  Origen  did  not  enter  into  these  reflec- 
tions. With  all  that  fertility  of  genius,  which 
enabled  him    to  compose  (if  we  believe  St 


fcsER.   XL.J 


HELL. 


357 


Epiphanius,- ),  six  thousand  books,  and  in 
spite  of  all  his  Greek  and  Hebrew,  he  was  a 
sorry  philosopher,  and  a  very  bad  divine. 
The  church  has  condemned  his  doctrine  in 
the  gross.  All  his  philosophy  v/as  taken  IKini 
the  ideas  of  Plato  :  but  thanks  be  to  God  ! 
my  brethren,  we  live  in  ages  n^ore  enlighten- 
ed, and  were  educated  by  masters  wiser  than 
Aristotle  and  Plato.  So  much  shall  suifice 
for  objections  taken  from  the  nature  of  man. 

2.  Let  ijs  attend  now  to  others  taken  from 
the  nature  of  God.  A  man  who  opposes  our 
doctrine,  reasons  in  tliis  manner-  Which 
way  soever  I  consider  a  being  supremely  per- 
fect, I  cannot  persuade  myself,  that  he  will 
expose  his  creatures  to  eternal  torments.  All 
his  perfections  secure  me  from  such  terrors 
as  this  doctrine  seems  to  inspire  If  I  consi- 
der the  Deity  as  a  being  perfectly  free,  it 
should  seem,  although  he  has  denounced  sen- 
tences of  condemnation,  yet  he  retains  a  right 
of  revoking,  or  of  executing  them  to  the  ut- 
most rigour ;  whence  I  infer,  that  no  man  can 
determine  what  use  he  will  make  of  his  liber- 
ty. When  I  consider  God  as  a  good  being, 
1  cannot  make  eternal  punishment  agree  with 


terrors  of  death  but  this  opinion.  Perhaps 
hell  may  be  less  in  degree,  and  shorter  in 
duration  than  the  scriptures  represent  I 

Some  Christian  divines,  in  zeal  for  the 
glory  of  God,  have  yielded  to  these  objections ; 
and  under  pretence  of  having  met  with  tim- 
orous people,  whom  the  doctrine  of  eternal 
punishment  liad  terrified  into  doubts  concern- 
ing the  divine  perfections,  they  thought  it 
their  duty  to  remove  this  stumbling-block. 
They  have  ventured  to  presume,  that  tlie  idea 
which  God  has  given  of  eternal  punishment, 
was  only  intended  to  alarm  the  impenitent, 
and  that  it  was  very  probable  God  would  at 
last  relax  the  rigorous  sentence.  But  if  it 
were  allowed  that  God  had  no  other  design 
in  denouncing  eternal  punishments  than  tiiat 
of  alarming  sinners,  would  it  become  us  to  op- 
pose ins  wise  purpo3e,and  with  our  unhallowed 
hands  to  throw  down  the  batteries,  which  he 
had  erected  against  sin  .''  Shall  we  pretend  to 
dive  into  his  mysterious  views  .''  or,  having, 
as  it  were,  extorted  his  confidence,  should  we 
be  so  indiscreet  as  to  publish  it,  like  the  bold 
adventurer  in  the  fable,  who,  not  content  with 
having  stolen  fire    from   heaven    for    himself, 


infinite   mercy;  'bowels  of  compassion'  seem  endeavoured  to  encourage  other   men  to  do 

incongruous  with    '  devouring    flames  ;'   the  so .''    Let  us  '  think   soberly,'  and  '  not  more 

titles' merciful  and  gracious'  seem  incompati-  highly  then   we    ought  to  think;    Ictus  not 

ble  with  the  execution  of  this  sentence,'  depart  think  above  that  which  is    written,'  Rom.  xii. 


ye  cursed  into  everlasting  fire,'  Matt.  xxv.  41 
In  short,  when  I  consider  God  under  the  idea 
of  an  equitable  legislator,  I  cannot  compre- 
iiend    how  sins  committed  in  a  finite  period 


3  ;  1  or.  iv.  (i.  Let  us  preach  the  gospel  as 
God  has  revealed  it.  (iod  did  npt  think  the 
doctrine  of  everlastinaf  punishment  injurious 
to  the  holiness  of  his  attributes.     Let  us  not 


can  deserve  an  infinite  punishment      Let    us  i  pretend  to  think  it  will  injure  them, 
suppose  a    life    the    most  long   and   criminal  j      None  of  these  reflections  remove  tlie  difti- 
Ihat  ever  was ;  let  the  vices  of  all  mankind  be  1  culty.    We  proceed  then  to  open  four  sources 
assembled,   if  possible,  in  one    man  ;  let   the  j  of  solutions. 

duration  of  his  depravity  be  extended  from  \  L  Observe  this  general  truth.  It  is  not 
the  beginning  oi  the  world  to  the  dissolution  probable,  God  would  threaten  mankind  with 
of  it :  even  in  this  case  sin  would  be  finite,  !  a  punishment,  the  infliction  of  which  would 
and  infinite,  everlasting  punishment  would  be  incompatible  with  his  perfections.  If  the 
far  exceed  the  demerit  of  finite  transgression,  reality  of  such  a  hell  as  the  Scriptures  de- 
and  consequently,  the  doctrine  of  everlastino-  scribe  be  inconsistent  with  the  perfections  of 
punishment  is  inconsistent  with  divine  jus-  ,  the  Creator,  such  a  hell  ought  not  to  have 
lice.  j  been  atfirmed,  3'ea,  it  could  not  have  been  re- 

There  are  libertines,  who  invent  these  dif-  vealed.  The  eminence  of  the  holiness  of  God 
ficulties,  and  take  pains  to  confirm  themselves  I  w  11  not  allow  him  to  terrify  his  creatures 
in  the  belief  of  them,  in  order  to  diminish  with  the  idea  of  a  punishment,  which  he  can- 
those  just  fears,  which  an  idea  of  hell  would  not  inflict  without  injustice  ;  and  considering 
excite  in  their  souls,  and  to  enable  them  to  the  weakness  of  our  reason,  and  the  narrow 
sin  boldly.     Let  us  not  enter  into  a  detail    of    limits  of  our  knowledge,  we  ought  not  tosaj', 


answers  and  replies  with  people  of  this  kind 
Were  we  to  grant  afl  they  seem  to  require,  it 
would  be  easy  to  prove,  to  a  demonstration, 
that  there  is  a  world  of  extravagance  in  de- 
riving the  least  liberty  to  sin  from  these  ob- 
jections. If,  instead  of  a  punishment  endur- 
ing for  ever,  hell  were  only  the  sufl'erings  of 
a  thousand  years'  torments,  were  the  sufferer 
during  these  thousand  years  only  placed  in 
the  condition  of  a  man  excruciated  with  the 
gout  or  the  stone  ;  must  not  a  man  give  up  nil 
claim  to  common  sense,  before  he  could,  even 
on  these  suppositions,  abandon  himself  to  sin.' 
Are  not  all  the  charms  employed  by  the  devil 
to  allure  us  to  sin  absorbed  in  the  idea  of  a 
thousand  years"  pain,  to  which,  for  argument's 
sake,  we  have  supposed  eternal  punishiuent 
reduced  .'  How  pitiable  is  a  man  in  dying  ag- 
onies, who  has  nothing  to  oppose  against  the 


Advers.  Ha:ies.  lib.  2, 


2  Z 


such  a  thing  is  unjust,  therefore  it  is  not  re 
vealed  :  but,  on  the  contrary,  we  should  ra 
ther  say,  such  a  thing  is  revealed,  therefore 
it  is  just. 

2.  Take  each  part  of  the  objection  drawn 
from  the  attributes  of  God,  and  said  to 
destroy  our  doctrine,  and  consider  it  sepa- 
rately. The  argument  taken  from  the  liberty 
of  God  would  carry  us  from  error  to  error, 
and  from  one  absurdity  to  another.  For,  if 
God  be  free  to  relax  any  part  of  the  punish- 
ment denounced,  he  is  equally  free  to  relax 
the  whole.  If  we  may  infer,  that  he  will  cer- 
tainly release  the  sufferer  from  apart,  because 
he  IS  at  liberty  to  do  so, we  have  an  e(iaal  right 
to  presume  he  will  release  froin  the  v/hole, 
an  '■  there  would  be  no  absurdity  in  aiTirming 
the  one.  after  we  had  allowed  the  other.  It' 
there  be  no  absurdity  in  presuming  that  God 
will  rele  ise  the  whole  punishment  denounced 
against  the  impenitent,  behold  I    11  systems  of 


S5S 


HELL. 


[Seh.  XL 


conscience,  providence,  and  leligion,  fall  of 
themselves,  and,  if  these  systems  fall,  what 
pray,  bcionio  of  all  these  perfections  of  God, 
which  you  pretend  to  defend  ? 

The  objection  taken  from  the  liberty  of 
God  might  seem  to  have  some  colour,  were 
liell  spoken  of  only  in  passa<>'es  wijere  pre- 
cepts were  enforced  by  threatenings  ■  but  at- 
tend to  the  places,  in  which  Jesus  Christ 
speaks  of  it.  Read,  for  example,  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  Matthew,  and  there  you  will  perceive 
are  facts,  prophecies,  and  exact  and  circum- 
stantial narrations.  There  it  is  said:  the  world 
shall  end,  Jesus  Christ  shall  descend  trom 
heaven,  tliere  shall  be  a  judgment  of  mankind, 
the  righteous  shall  be  rewarded,  the  wicked 
shall  be  punished,  '  shall  go  away  into  ever- 
lasting punishment.'  How  can  these  things 
be  reconciled  to  the  truth  of  God,  if  he  fail 
to  execute  any  one  of  these  articles  .' 

The  difficulty  taken  from  the  goodness  of 
<iod  vanishes,  when  we  rectify  popular  no- 
tions of  this  excellence  of  the  divine  nature. 
Goodness  in  men  is  a  virtue  of  constitution, 
which  makes  them  suffer,  when  they  see 
their  fellow-creatures  in  misery,  and  which 
excites  them  to  relieve  them.  In  God  it  is 
a  perfection  independent  in  its  origin,  free  in 
its  execution,  and  always  restrained  by  laws 
of  inviolable  equity,  and  exact  severity. 

Justice  is  not  incompatible  with  eternal 
punishment.  It  is  not  to  be  granted,  that  a 
sin  committed  in  a  limited  time  ought  not  to 
be  punished  through  an  infinite  duration.  It 
is  not  the  length  of  time  employed  in  com- 
mitting a  crime,  that  determines  the  degree 
and  the  duration  of  its  punishment,  it  is  the 
turpitude  and  atrociousness  of  it.  The  justice 
of  God,  far  from  opposing  the  punishment  of 
the  impenitent,  requires  it.  Consider  this 
earth,  which  supports  us,  that  sun,  which 
illuminates  us,  the  elements,  that  nourish  us, 
all  the  creatures  which  serve  us  ;  are  they  not  j 
so  many  motives  to  men  to  devote  their  ser- 
vice to  God .'  Consider  the  patience  of  God, 
what  opportunities  of  repentance  he  gives  sin- 
ners, what  motives  and  means  he  affords  them. 
Above  all,  enter  into  the  sanctuary  ;  meditate 
on  the  incarnate  woid,  comprehend,  if  you 
can,  what  it  is  for  a  God  to  'make  himself  of 
no  reputation,'  and  to  '  take  upon  him  the 
form  of  a  servant,'  Phil.  ii.  7.  Consider  the 
infinite  excellence  of  God,  approach  his 
throne,  behold  his  eyes  sparkling  with  fire, 
the  power  and  majesty  that  fill  his  sanctuary, 
the  heavenly  hosts  which  around  his  throne 
fulfil  his  will ;  form,  if  it  be  possible,  some  idea 
of  the  Supreme  Being.  Then  think,  this  God 
united  himself  to  mortal  flesh,  and  suffered  for 
mankind  all  the  rigours,  that  the  madness  of 
men,  and  the  rage  of  devils  could  invent.  I 
cannot  tell,  my  brethren,  what  impressions 
these  objects  make  on  you.  For  my  part,  I 
ingenuously  own,  that,  could  any  thing  ren- 
der Christianity  doubtful  to  me,  what  it  af- 
firms of  this  mystery  would  do  so.  I  have 
need,  I  declare,  of  all  my  faith,  and  of  all  the 
authority  of  liim,  who  speaks  in  Scripture,  to 
persuade  me,  that  God  would  condescend  to 
such  a  humiliation  as  this.  If,  amidst  the 
darkness  which  conceals  this  mystery,  I  dis- 
cover any  glimmering  that  reduces  it  in  a  sort 
to  my  capacity,  it  arises  fiom  the  sentence  of 


eternal  punishment,  which  God  has  threaten- 
ed to  inflict  on  all,  who  finally  reject  this 
great  sacrifice.  Having  allowed  the  obliga- 
tions under  which  the  incarnation  lays  man- 
kind, everlasting  punishment  seems  to  me 
to  have  nothing  in  it  contrary  to  divine  jus- 
tice. No,  the  burning  lake  with  its  smoke, 
eternity  with  its  abysses,  devils  with  theiv 
rage,  and  all  hell  with  all  its  horrors,  seem  to 
me  not  at  all  too  rigorous  for  the  punishment 
of  men,  who  have  '  trodden  under  foot  the  Son 
of  God,  counted  the  blof)d  of  the  covenant  an 
unholy  thing,  crucified  the  Son  of  God  afresh, 
and  done  despite  unto  the  Spirit  of  grace,' 
Heb.  X.  2!) ;  and  vi.  6.  Were  we  to  examine  1 
in  this  manner  each  part  of  the  objection 
opposed  against  our  doctrine,  we  should 
open  a  second  source  of  solutions  to  an- 
swer it. 

3.  The  doctrine  of  degrees  of  punishment 
affords  us  a  third.  I  have  oflen  oiiserved  with 
astonishment  the  little  use,  that  Christians  in 
general  make  of  this  article,  since  the  doctrine 
itself  is  taught  in  Scripture  in  the  clearest 
manner.  When  we  speak  of  future  punish- 
ment, we  call  it  all  hell  indifferently,  and 
without  distinction.  We  conceive  of  all  the 
wicked  as  precipitated  into  the  same  gulf, 
loaded  with  tiie  same  clains,  devoured  by  the 
same  worm.  We  do  not  seem  to  think,  there 
will  be  as  much  difference  in  their  state  as 
there  had  been  in  their  natural  capacities, 
their  exterior  means  of  obtaining  knowledge, 
and  their  Vtirious  aids  to  assist  them  in  their 
pursuit  of  it.  We  do  not  recollect,  that,  as 
perhaps  there  may  not  be  two  men  in  the 
world,  who  have  alike  partaken  the  gifts  of 
Heaven,  so  probably  there  will  not  be  two 
wicked  spirits  m  hell  enduring  an  equal  de- 
gree of  punishment.  There  is  an  extreme 
difference  between  a  heathen  and  a  Jew  ;  there 
is  an  extreme  distance  between  a  Jew  and  a 
Christian  ;  and  a  greater  still  between  a  Chris- 
tian and  a  heathen.  The  gospel  rule  is,  '  Unto 
whomsoever  much  is  given,  of  him  shall  be 
mucii  required,'  Luke  xii.  48.  There  must, 
therefore,  be  as  great  a  difference  in  the  other 
life  between  the  punishment  of  a  Jew  and  that 
of  a  pagan,  between  that  of  a  pagan  and  that 
of  a  Jew,  between  that  of  a  pagan  and  that  of 
a  Christian,  as  there  is  between  the  states  in 
which  God  has  placed  them  on  earth.  More- 
over, there  is  a  very  (•reat  difference  between 
one  Jew  and  another,  between  pagan  and  pa- 
gan, (  hristian  and  •  hristian.  Each  has  in  his 
own  economy  more  or  less  of  talents.  There 
must  therefore  be  a  like  difference  between 
the  punishment  of  one  Ciiristian  and  that  of 
anotlier,  the  punishment  of  one  Jew  and  that 
ofano'her  Jew,  the  suffering  of  one  pagan  and 
that  of  another:  and  consequently,  when  we 
say,  a  pagan  wise  according  to  his  own  econo- 
my, and  a  Christian  foolish  according  to  his, 
are  both  in  hell,  we  speak  in  a  very  vague  and 
equivocal  manner. 

To  how  many  difficulties  have  men  submit- 
ted by  not  attending  to  this  doctrine  of  de- 
grees of  punishment !  Of  what  use,  for  exam- 
ple, might  it  have  been  to  answer  objections 
concerning  the  destiny  of  pagans  !  As  eternal 
punishment  hat,  been  considered  under  ima- 
ges, that  excite  all  the  most  excruciating 
pains,  it  could  not  be  imagined  how  God  should 


Ser,  XL.] 


HELL. 


.jl59 


condemn  the  wise  heathens  to  a  state  that 
seemed  suited  only  to  monsters,  who  disfigure 
nature  and  subvert  .society  Some,  therefore, 
to  get  rid  of  this  difficulty,  have  widened  the 
gate  of  lieaven,  and  allowed  other  ways  of  ar- 
riving there,  besides  that  'whereby  we  must 
be  saved,'  Acts  iv.  12.  Cato,  Socrates,  and 
Arisfides,  liave  been  mixed  with  the  '  multi- 
tudtr  redeemed  to  Gud  out  of  every  people 
and  nation,'  Rev.  v.  H.  Had  the  doctrine  of 
diversity  of  punishments  been  properly  at- 
tended to,  the  condemnation  of  the  heathens 
would  not  have  appeared  inconsistent  with 
the  perfections  of  God,  provided  it  had  been 
considered  only  as  a  punishment  proportional 
to  what  was  defective  in  their  state,  and 
criminal  in  their  life.  For  no  one  has  a  right 
to  tax  God  with  injustice  for  punishing  pa- 
gans, unless  he  could  prove  tiiat  the  degree 
of  their  pain  exceeded  that  of  their  sin  ;  and 
as  no  one  is  able  to  make  this  combination, 
because  Scripture  positively  assures  us,  God 
will  observe  this  proportion,  so  none  can  mur- 
mur against  his  conduct  without  being  guilty 
of  blasphemy. 

But,  above  all,  the  doctrine  of  degrees  of 
punishment  elucidates  that  of  the  eternity  of 
them.  Take  this  principle,  which  Scripture 
establishes  in  the  clearest  manner  ;  press  home 
all  its  consequences  ;  evtend  it  as  far  as  it  can 
be  carried  ;  give  scope  even  to  your  irnagina 


Moreover,  God  is  going  to  create  a  world,  in 
which  virtue  will  be  alrnost  always  in  irons, 
and  vice  on  a  throne — tyrants  will  be  crov/ned, 
and  pious  people  confounded.  Suppose  the 
first  of  our  philosopiiers  to  maintain  tiiese  the- 
ses, how  think  you  ?  Would  not  the  second 
have  reasoned  against  this  plan  .'  Would  he 
not,  in  all  appearance,  have  had  a  riglit  to  af- 
firm— It  is  impossible  that  God,  being  full  of 
goodness,  should  create  men,  whose  existence 
would  be  fatal  to  their  happiness — It  is  im- 
possible a  Being,  supremely  holy,  should  suf- 
fer sin  to  enter  the  world .''  Yet,  how  plausi- 
ble soever,  the  reasons  of  this  philosopher 
might  then  have  appeared,  the  event  has 
since  justified  the  truth  of  the  first  plan.  It 
is  certain  God  has  created  the  world  on  the 
plan  of  the  first ;  and  it  is  also  as  certain, 
that  this  world  has  nothing  incompatible  witii 
the  perfections  of  God,  how  difficult  soever 
we  may  find  it  to  ansvv'er  objections.  It  is 
our  dirainutivcness,  the  narrowness  of  our 
minds,  and  the  innuensity  of  the  Deity,  whicli 
prevent  our  knowing  how  far  his  attributes 
can  go. 

Apply  this  to  our  subject.  The  idea  of 
hell  seems  to  you  repugnant  to  the  attributes 
of  God,  you  cannot  comprehend  how  a  just 
God  can  punish  finite  sins  with  infinite  pain; 
how  a  merciful  God  can  abandon  his  creature 
to  eternal   miseries.     Your   difficulties  have 


tion,  till  the  punishments  which  such  and  such  j  some  probability,  I  grant.  Your  reasons,  I 
persons  suffer  in  hell  are  reduced  to  a  degree,  |  allow,  seem  well-grounded.  But  dost  thou 
that  may  serve  to  solve  the  difficulty  of  the  i  remember,  the  attributes  of  God  are  infinite  ,' 
doctrine  of  their  eternity  ;  whatever  system  I  Remember,  thy  knowledge  is  finite.  Pvemem- 
you  adopt  on  this  article,  I  will  even  venture  |  ber  the  two  philosophers  disputing  on  the 
to  say,  whatever  difficulty  you  may  meet  with  [  plan  of  the  world.  Remember  the  event  hns 
in  following  it,  it  will  always  be  more  reason-  i  discarded  the  difficulties  of  the  last,  and  jus- 
able,  I  think,  to  make  of  one  doctrine  clearly  I  tified  the  plan  of  the  first.  Now,  the  revela- 
revealed,  a  clew  to  guide  through  the  difficul-  j  tion  of  future  punishments  in  our  system,  is 
ties  of  another  doctrine  clearly  revealed  too,  equal  to  event  in  that  of  tiie  first  philosopher, 
than  rashly  to  deny  the  former  decisions  of  j  They  are  revealed.     You  think  future  pun- 


Scripture.  I  mean  to  say,  it  would  be  more 
rational  to  stretcli  the  doctrine  of  degrees  too 
far,  if  I  may  venture  to  speak  so,  than  to  deny 
that  of  their  eternity. 

4.  The  fourth  source  of  solutions  is  a  maxim 
from  which  a  divine  ought  never  to  depart 


ishment  inconsistent  with  the  attributes  of 
God  :  but  your  notion  of  inconsistence  ought 
to  vanish  at  the  appearance  of  Scripture- 
light. 

Thus  we  have  indicated  a  few  proofs  of  the 
doctrine  of  eternal  punishments.     We  have 


and  whicii  we  wish  particularly  to  inculcate  '  endeavoured  to  convince  you,  that  what  the 
among  tiiose  who  extend  the  operations  of  Scriptuies  teach  us  on  the  duration  of  tlie 
reason  too  fiir  in  matters  of  religion.  Our  punishments  of  the  wicked  is  neither  repug- 
maxiin  is  this.  We  know  indeed  in  treneral,  i  nant  to  t!ie  nature  of  God,  nor  to  the  nature 
what  are  the  attributes  of  God;  but  we , are  of  man.  We  will  now  lay  aside  these  idea.s,- 
extremely  ignorant  of  their  sphere,  we  can-  and  endeavour  to  improve  the  few  moments 
not  determine  how  far  they  extend.  We  that  remain,  by  addressing  )'our  consciences. 
know  in  general,  God  is  free,  he  is  just,  he  is  j  Having  shown  you  the  doctrine  of  eternal 
merciful  :  but  we  are  too  ignorant  to  deter-  i  punishments  as  taught  in  Scripture,  and  ap- 


mine  how  far  these  perfections  must  go  ;  be- 
cause the  infinity  of  them  absorbs  the  capaci- 
ty of  our  minds.  An  example  may  render 
our  meaning  plain.  Suppose  two  philosophers 
subsisting  betbre  the  creation  of  this  world, 
and  conversing  together  on  the  plan  of  the 
world,  which  God  was  about  to  create.  Sup- 
pose tlie  first  of  these  philosophers  affirming 
— God  is  goinir  to  create  intelligent  creatures 
— he  could  communicate  such  a  degree  of 
knowledge  to  them  as  would  necessarily  con- 
duct them  to  supreme  happiness — but  he  in- 
tends to  give  them  a  reason,  which  may  be 
abused,  and  may  conduct  them  from  igno- 
rance to   vice,  and   from  vice  to   misery. — 


proved  by  reason,  we  will  try  to  shov/  it  you 
as  an  otiject  terrible  and  affecting.  But, 
while  we  are  endeavouring  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, to  accommodate  ourselves  to  your 
impatience,  use  some  efforts  with  your- 
selves ;  and  if  ever,through  indulgence  for  our 
person,  or  through  respect  to  our  doctrine, 
you  have  opened  access  to  your  hearts,  grant 
it,  I  entreat  you,  to  what  I  am  going  to  pro- 
pose. 

III.  Observe  the  quality,  and  the  duration 
of  the  punishments  of  hell.  The  quality  is 
expressed  in  these  words,  smoke,  torment. 
The  duration  in  these,  '  ascend  up  for  ever 
and  ever.' 


360 


HELL. 


[Ser.  XL. 


[L]  The  (jimlitij  of  the  punisliment  of  hell  i  The  very  name  given  in  Scripture  to  the  fire 
is  expressed  in  these  terms,  smoke,  torment  '  of  hell  has  something  very  significant  in  it. 
The  metaphorical  terms  include  five  ideas  I  It  is  called  '  the  fire  of  Gehenna,'  Matt.  v. 
Privation  of  heavenlv  happiness — Sensation  3"2.  This  word  is  compounded  of  words, 
of  pain — remorse  of  conscience — horror  of  which  signify  '  the  valley  of  Hinnon.'  This 
societ}' — increase  of  crime.  i  valley  was  rendered  famous  by  the  abomina- 

L  .-i  prirati.on  of  celestial  hnppiness  is  the     ble  sacrifices  which  the  idolatrous  Jews  offer- 


first  idea  of  hell,  an  idea  which  we  are  in- 
capable of  forming  fully  in  this  life.  We 
have  ej'es  of  flesh  and  blood.  We  judge  of 
happiness  and  misery  according  to  this  flesh 
and  blood,  and  as  things  relate  to  our  families, 
our  fortunes,  our  professions,  and  we  seld  hi 
think  we  have  immortal  souls  In  the  great 
day  of  retribution  all  these  veils  will  be  taken 
away.  Darkness  will  be  dissipated,  scales 
will  fall  from  our  eyes,  tlie  chief  good  will  be 
known:  but  what  will  be  the  condition  of  him, 
who  no  sooner  discovers  the  chief  g-ood  than 
he  discovers  also,  that  he  shall  be  for  ever 
deprived  of  it  I  Represent  to  yourselves  a 
man  constrained  to  see,  and  made  by  his  own 
experience  to  know,  that  the  pleasures,  the 


ed  to  Moloch.  Tliey  set  up  a  hollow  brazen 
figure,  -enclosed  their  children  in  it,  kindled 
fires  underneath,  and  in  this  horrible  manner 
consumed  the  miserable  infant  victims  of 
tlieir  cruel  superstition.  This  is  an  image  of 
hell.  Terrible  image!  We  have  no  need  of 
abstract  and  metaphysical  ideas.  Who  among 
us  could  patiently  bear  his  hand  one  hour  in 
fire.'  Who  would  not  tremble  to  be  condemn- 
ed to  pass  one  day  in  this  monstrous  machine.' 
And  who,  who  could  bear  to  be  eternally  con- 
fined in  it .'  When  we  see  a  criminal  in  chains, 
given  up  to  an  executioner  of  human  justice, 
and  just  going  to  be  burned  to  death,  nature 
shudders  at  the  sight,  the  flesh  of  spectators 
shivers,   and  the  cries  of  the   sufferer    rend 


grandeurs,    and  all  the  riches  of  this  world,  their  heart,  and  excite  painful  compassion  in 

are  nothing  but  wind  andsm.>ke;    and  that  all  the  emotions  of  the  soul.     What  must  it 

true  felicity  consists  in  communion  with  God,  be  to  be  delivered  up  to   an   executioner  o{ 

in  beholding  his  perfections,  and  participat-  divine  justice  ?  What  to  be  cast  into  the  fire 

ing  his  glory  :  or,  to  use  emblems  taken  from  of  hell  ?    Delicate  flesh  !    feeble  organs  of  a 

Scripture,    represent   to  yourselves   a   man,  human  body!    What  v/ill  you  do  when  you 

who  shall    see    the  nuptial    chamber   of  the  are  cast  into  the  quick  and  devouring  flames 

bridegroom,   his    triumphant    pomp,  and  his  of  hell! 

magnificent   palace ;    and   who   shall    see  all         3.  The  third  idea  of  future  punishment  is 

these  glorious  objects  as  felicities,  which  his  that   of    the    remorse   of   conscience.      The 

crimes  forbid  him  to  enjo}'.     What  regrets !  pains  of  the  mind  are  as  lively  and  sensible 

What  despair  !  Lord  of  nature  !  Being  of  be-  as  those  of  the  body.     The  grief  of  one  man, 


ings  !  Adorable  assemblage  of  all  perfections ! 
Eternal  Father!  Well-beloved  Son  !  H.ly 
Spirit !  glorious  body  of  my  divine  Redeem- 
archangels  !  cherubim  !    seraphim  !  pow- 


who  loses  a  person  dear  to  him,  the  inquie- 
tude of  another  afraid  of  apparitions  and 
spectres,  the  gloomy  terrors  of  a  third  in 
solitude,  the  emotions  of  a  criminal  receivino- 


ers  !  dominions!  general  assembly  of  the  his  sentence  of  death,  and,  above  all,  the  agi- 
tirst-born!  myriads  of  angels!  apostles!  mar-  tation  of  a  conscience  filled  with  a  sense  of 
tyrs  !  saints  of  all  ages,  and  of  all  nations  !  guilt,  are  pains  as  lively  and  sensible  as  those 
unfading  crown !  perfect  knov/ledge  I  com-  which  are  excited  by  the  most  cruel  tor- 
munion  of  a  soul  with  its  God  !  throne  of  ments.  What  great  effects  has  remorse  pro- 
glory !  fulness  of  joy  !  rivers  of  pleasure  !  all  duced  !  It  has  made  tyrants  tremble.  It  has 
v,'hich  I  see,  all  which  I  know,  and  wish  to  smitten  the  knees  of  a  Belshazzar  together 
enjoy,  even  while  avenging  justice  separates  in  the  midst  of  his  courtiers.  It  has  render- 
me  from  you  ;  am  I  then  for  ever  excluded  ed  the  voluptuous  insensible  to  pleasure,  and 
from  all  your  inefiable  delights  ?  Arc  you  all  it  has  put  many  hardened  wretches  upon  the 
shown  to  me  to  make  me  more  sensible  of  my  rack.  It  has  done  more.  It  has  forced  some, 
misery  .'  And  do  you  display  so  much  felicity  who  upon  scaffolds  and  wheels  have  denied 
only  to  render  my  pain  more  acute,  and  my  their  crimes,  after  a  release,  to  confess  them, 
destruction  more  terrible.'  j  to  find  out  a  judge,  to  give   evidence  against 

2.  Consider  painful  se7is(Uio7is.  To  these  themselves,  and  to  implore  the  mercy  of  a 
belong  all  the  expressions  of  Scripture  just  '  violent  death,  more  tolerable  tli.in  the  agonies 
now  meiitioned, '  darkness,  blackness  of  dark-  ;  of  their  guilty  souls.     'I'his  will  be  the  state 


ncss,  thirst,  fire,  lake  burning  with  fire  and 
brimstone,'  and  all  these  to  such  a  degree, 
that  the  damned  would  esteem  as  an  invalua- 
ble benefit  one  drop  of  water  '  to  cool  their 
tongues,'  Lidce  xvi  24.  We  dare  not  pre- 
tend to  determine,  that  hell  consists  of 
material  fire.  But  if  you  recollect  that  we 
just  now  observed  the  power  of  God  to  excite 
in  our  souls  such  sensations  as  he  pleases,  if 
to  this  reflection  you  add  this  remark,  that 
Scripture  almost  always  employs  the  idea  of 
fire  to  express  the  pains  of  hell,  you  will  be 
inclined  to  believe,  that  most  of  these  uniiap 
py  suftbrers  literally  en  lure  torments  like 
those,  which  men  burning  in  flames  feel ; 
whether  God  act  immediately  on  their  souls, 
or  unite  them   to  particles  of  material  fire. 


of  the  damned.  This  will  be  *  the  worm 
tliat  never  dies,'  and  which  will  consume 
their  souls.  This  will  be  the  cruel  vulture, 
that  will  devour  their  vitals.  Conscience 
will  be  obliged  to  do  homage  to  an  avenging 
God.  It  will  be  forced  to  acknowledge,  that 
the  motivi's  of  the  gospel  were  highly  proper 
to  affect  every  man.  wiio  had  not  made  his 
'  face  as  an  adamant,  his  forehead  harder  than 
a  flmt."  It  will  be  forced  to  acknowledo-e, 
that  the  goodness  of  G"d  had  benn  enouarh 
tf)  penetrate  everv  heart,  even  those  wliich 
were  least  capable  <>f  gratitude  It  w:ll  be 
constrained  to  own,  that  the  succours  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  had  been  more  than  sufhcicnt 
of^ themselves.  It  will  be  driven  to  own,  that 
the  destruction  of  man  came  of  himself,  and 


J 


Ser.  XL.] 


HELL. 


861 


lliat  he  sacrificed  his  salvation  to  vain  imagi- 
nations, more  delusive  tiiaii  vanity  itself. 
The  testimony  of  a  good  conscience  has  sup- 
ported martyrs  in  fire  and  tortures.  When  a 
martyr  said  to   himself,  I  suffer  for  truth,  I 

flead  a  good  cause,  1  bear  my  Saviour's  cross, 
am  a  martyr  for  God  himself;  he  was  hap- 
py in  spite  of  seeming  horrors.  But  waen 
the  reproaches  of  conscience  ire  added  to 
terrible  torments,  when  the  sufferer  is  obliged 
to  say  to  himself,  I  am  the  author  of  my  own 
punishment,  I  suffer  for  my  own  sins.  I  am 
a  victim  of  vice,  a  victim  for  the  devil ;  no- 
thing can  equal  his  horror  and  despair. 

4.  A  fourth  idea  is  taken  from  the  horror 
of  the  society  in  hell.  How  great  soever  the 
misery  of  a  man  on  earth  may  be,  he  bears  it 
with  patience,  when  wise  discourse  is  ad- 
dressed to  him  for  his  consolation,  when  a 
friend  opens  his  bosom  to  iiiui,  when  a  father 
shares  his  sufferings,  and  a  charitable  hand 
endeavours  to  wipe  away  his  tears.  The 
conversation  of  a  grave  and  sympathizing 
friend  diminishes  his  troubles,  s  Aens  his 
pains,  and  charms  him  under  his  afflictions, 
till  he  bee  nnes  easy  and  happy  in  them. 
But,  good  Gid  !  what  society  is  th  it  in  hell ! 
Imagine  yourselves  condemned  to  pass  all 
your  days  with  those  odious  men,  who  seem 
formed  only  to  trou'ile  the  world.  Liiagine 
yourselves  shut  up  in  a  close  prison  with  a 
band  of  reprobates.  Imagine  yourselves  ly- 
ing on  a  death-bed,  and  having  no  other  com- 
forters than  traitors  and  assassins.  Thi.s  is 
an  image  of  hell!  Good  God  !  wliat  :)  socie- 
ty I  tyrants,  assassins,  blasphemers,  Satan 
with  his  angels,  the  prince  of  the  air  with  all 
his  infamous  legions  ! 

From  all  these  ideas  results  a  fifth,  an  171- 
creasf,  of  sin.  Self-love  is  the  governing  pas- 
sion of  mankind.  It  is  that  which  puts  all 
the  rest  in  motion,  and  all  tlie  rest  either 
spring  from  it,  or  are  supported  by  it  It  is 
not  in  the  power  of  man  to  love  a  being,  who 
has  no  relation  to  his  happiness  ;  and  it  is  not 
possible  for  him  to  avoid  h  itiiig  one,  who 
employs  his  power  to  make  liiin  miserable. 
As  God  will  af.rgravate  the  sufferings  of  the 
damned,  by  displaying  his  attributes,  their 
hatred  of  him  will  be  unbounded,  their  tor- 
ment will  excite  their  hatred,  their  hatred 
■will  aggravate  their  torment  Is  not  this  the 
heiglit  of  mi.^ery.'  To  liate  by  necessity  of 
nature  the  Perfect  Being,  the  Supreme  Be- 
ing, the  Sovereign  Beauty,  in  a  word,  to  hate 
God  ;  does  not  this  idea  present  to  your 
minds  a  state  the  most  melancholy,  the  most 
miserable.''  One  chief  excellence  of  the  glory 
of  happy  spirits,  is  a  consummate  luve  to 
their  Creator.  One  of  the  most  horrible 
punishments  of  hell,  is  the -exclusion  of  di 
vine  love.  O  miserable  state  of  the  damned! 
In  it  they  utter  as  many  blasphemies  against 
God  as  the  happy  souls  in  heaven  shout  hal- 
lelujahs to  his  praise. 

These  are  the  punishnents  of  condemned 
souls.  It  remains  only  that  we  consider  the 
length  and  duration  of  them  But  by  what 
means,  my  brethren,  shall  we  describe  these 
profound  articles  if  contemplation.''  Can  we 
number  the  innumerable,  -ind  measure  that 
which  is  beyond  all  men.^uratioii .'  Can  we 
make  you  comprehend  the  incomprehensible  .' 


And  shall  we  amuse  you,  with  our  imagina- 
tions .' 

For  my  part,  when  I  endeavour  to  repre- 
sent eternity  to  myself,  I  avail  myself  of 
whatever  I  can  conceive  most  long  and  dura- 
ble. I  heap  imagination  on  imagination,  con- 
jecture on  conjecture.  First,  I  consider 
those  long  lives,  which  all  men  wish,  and 
soma  attain  ;  I  observe  those  old  men,  who 
live  four  of  five  generations,  and  w  lo  alone 
make  the  history  of  an  age.  I  do  more,  I 
turn  to  ancient  chronicles.  I  go  back  to  the 
pitriarchal  age.  and  consider  a  life  extending 
through  a  thousand  years ;  and  I  say  to  my- 
self .4.11  this  is  not  eternity  ;  all  this  is  only 
a  point  ill  comparison  of  eternity. 

H  ivinvg  represented  to  myself  real  objects, 
I  form  ideas  of  imaginary  qjies.  I  go  from 
our  age  to  the  time  of  publishing  the  gospel, 
from  thence  to  the  publication  of  the  law, 
from  the  law  to  the  flood,  from  the  flood  to 
the  creation.  I  join  this  epoch  to  the  pre- 
sent tine,  and  I  imagine  Adam  yet  living. 
Hid  adam  lived  till  now,  and  had  he  lived  in 
misery,  had  he  oassed  all  his  time  m  a  fire,  or 
on  a  rack,  what  idea  .nust  we  form  of  his  con- 
dition •  At  what  price  would  we  agree  to  ex- 
pose ourselves  to  iiiisery  so  great  ■"  What 
imperial  glory  would  appear  glorious,  were  it 
followed  by  so  much  wo.'  Yet  this  is  not 
eternity  ;  all  this  is  nothing  in  comparison  of 
eternity. 

I  go  farther  still.  I  proceed  from  imagina- 
tion to  imagination,  from  one  supposition  to 
another  1  take  the  greatest  number  of 
years  that  can  be  imagined.  I  add  ages  to 
ages,  millions  of  ages  to  millions  of  ages.  I 
form  of  all  these  one  fixed  number,  and  I 
stay  my  imagination.  After  this,  I  suppose 
God  to  create  a  world  like  this,  which  we  in- 
habit. I  suppose  him  creating  it  by  forming 
one  atom  after  another,  and  employing  in  the 
production  of  each  atom  the  time  fixed  in 
my  calculation  just  now  mentioned.  What 
numberless  ages  would  the  creation  of  such 
a  world  in  such  a  manner  require  !  Then  I 
suppose  the  iJreator  to  arrange  these  atoms, 
and  to  pursue  the  same  plan  of  arranging 
them  as  of  creating  them.  What  number- 
less ages  would  such  an  arrangement  require! 
Finally,  I  suppose  him  to  dissolve  and  annihi- 
late the  whole ;  and  observing  the  same 
method  in  this  dissolution  as  he  observed  iu 
the  creation  and  iisposition  of  the  whole. 
What  an  immense  duration  would  be  con- 
sumed I  Yet  this  is  not  eternity  ;  all  this  is 
only  a  point  in  comparison  of  eternity. 

Associate  now  all  these  suppositions,  my 
brethren,  and  of  all  these  periods  make  one 
fixed  period  ;  multiply  it  again,  and  suppose 
yourselves  to  pass  in  multiplying  it  a  time 
equal  to  that,  which  the  period  contains  ;  it 
is  literally  and  strictly  true,  all  this  is  not 
eternity  ;  all  this  is  only  a  point  in  compa- 
rison of  eternity. 

IMy  God  !  one  night  passed  in  a  burning^ 
fever,  or  in  struggling  in  the  waves  oi'  tlie 
sea  between  life  and  death,  appears  of  an  im- 
mense length  '  It  seems  to  the  sufferer  as  if 
the  sun  had  forgot  its  course,  and  as  if  all 
the  laws  of  niture  itself  were  subverted. 
What,  then,  will  be  the  state  of  those  mise- 
rable victims  to  divine  displeasure,  who,  after 


363 


UELL. 


£Ser.  XL. 


they  shall  have  passed  through  the  ages, 
which  we  have  been  descrilVmg.  will  be  ob- 
liged to  make  this  o-  erwlielinmg  r^'fleclion, 
All  this  is  only  an  atom  of  our  misery  !  VVh.it 
will  I  heir  despair  be,  when  they  shall  be 
forced  to  say  to  themselves,  again  we  must 
revolve  through  these  enormous  periods ; 
again  we  must  suffer  i  privaiion  nf  celestial 
happiness ;  devouring  flames  again  ;  cruel 
remorse  again  ;  crimes  and  blaspheinies  over 
and  over  again  !  For  ever  !  for  ever  .'  Ah  inv 
brethren  !  my  brethren  !  how  severe  is  this 
%vord  even  in  this  life !  How  great  is  a  mis- 
fortune, when  it  is  incapable  of  relief!  How 
insupportable,  when  we  are  obliged  to  add  f^r 
ever  to  it  I  These  irons  for  ever  1  tliese  chains 
for  ever  !  this  prison  for  ever  '.  this  universal 
contempt  for  evfir  !  this  domestic  trouble  for 
ever  !  Poor  mortals  !  how  short-sighted  are 
you  to  call  sorrows  eternal,  which  end  with 
your  lives  !  What  '  tliis  life  !  this  life,  that 
passes  vvith  the  rapidity  of  a  '  weaver's  shut- 
tle !'  Job  vii.  6,  this  life,  which  vanishes  '  like 
a  sleep!'  Ps.  xc.  5,  is  this  what  you  call  for 
ever  I  Ah!  absorbing  periods  of  eternity,  ac- 
cumulated myriads  of  ages  ;  these,  if  I  may 
be  allowed  to  speak  so,  these  will  be  the  for 
EVER  of  the  damned  ! 

I  sink  under  the  weight  of  this  subject ; 
and  I  declare,  when  I  see  my  friends,  my  re- 
lations, the  people  of  my  charge,  this  v^hole 
con  regation  ;  when  I  think,  that  I,  that  you, 
that  we  are  all  tlireatened  with  these  tor- 
ments ;  when  I  see  in  the  lukewarmness  of 
my  devotions,  in  the  languor  of  my  love,  in 
the  levity  of  my  resolutions  anl  designs,  the 
least  evidence,  though  it  be  only  probable,  or 
presumptive,  of  my  future  misery,  yet  I  find 
in  the  thought  a  mortal  poison,  which  dif 
fuses  itself  into  every  period  of  my  life,  ren- 
dering society  tiresome,  nourishment  insipid, 
pleasure  disgustful,  and  life  itself  n  cruel  bit- 
ter. I  cease  to  wonder,  that  a  fear  of  hell 
has  made  some  melancholy,  and  others  mad  ; 
that  it  has  inclined  some  to  expose  them- 
selves to  a  living  martyrdom  by  fleeing  from 
all  commerce  with  the  rest  of  mankind,  and 
others  to  suffer  the  most  violent  and  terrible 
torments.  But  the  more  terror  this  idea  in- 
spires, the  more  inexcusable  are  we,  if  it 
produce  no  good  fruits  in  us.  The  idea  of 
eternity  ought  to  subvert  all  our  sinful 
projects.  In  order  to  avoid  eternal  misery, 
all  should  be  suffered,  all  surmounted,  all  un- 
dertaken, sinful  self  should  be  crucified,  and 
the  whole  man  devoted  in  holy  sacrifice  to 
God.  Let  each  particle  of  our  bodies,  become 
a  victim  to  penitence,  let  each  moment  of 
life  expose  us  to  a  new  martyrdom;  still  we 
should  be  happy,  could  we  avoid  the  flaming 
sword,  that  hangs  over  our  heads,  and  escape 
the  gulfs  of  misery,  vv'hicii  yawn  beneath  our 
feet. 

My  brethren,  have  you  heard  what  I  have 
been  speaking  .'  have  you  well  reflected  on 
what  I  said  .'  Perhaps  I  may  have  weakened 
these  great  truths.  Perhaps  I  ma}'  have  left 
many  proper  things  unsaid.  Yet,  methinks, 
if  you  have  thoroughly  comprehended  what 
little  I   have  said,  you  will  become  new  men. 

iiemember,  we  have  not  exceeded  the 
truth;  all  we  have  said  is  taken  from  Scrip- 
ture, from  those  Scriptures  which  you  pro- 


fess to  believe,  so,  that  if  you  deny  these 
truths,  you  must  deny  your  own  faith,  Chris- 
tianity, religion. 

Remember,  we  have  taken  our  evidences 
from  that  part  of  Scripture,  which  you  con- 
sider .IS  the  most  kind  and  comfortable,  I 
mean  the  gospel  Renounce,  I  beseech  you, 
at  once,  this  miserable  prejudice,  that  under 
the  gospel  we  ought  not  to  speak  of  hell.  On 
the  contrary,  it  is  the  gospel  that  reveals  it 
in  its  clearest  light ;  it  is  the  gospel  which 
()roves  it  ;  it  is  tlie  Gospel  that  describes  it; 
the  gospel  says,  '  Depart,  ye  cursed,  into 
everlasting  fire.'  Malt  xxv.  41  It  is  the  gos- 
pel that  s:i  vs,  '  The  servant  which  knew  'lis 
lord's  will,  and  did  it  not,  shall  be  beaten 
with  many  stripes,'  Luke  xii.  47.  It  is  the 
gospel  that  says,  '  If  we  sin  wilfully,  afler 
that  we  have  received  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth,  there  reinaineth  no  more  sacrifice  for 
sins  ;  but  a  certain  fearful  looking-for  of  judg- 
ment, and  fiery  indignation,  which  shall  de- 
vour the  adversaries,'   Heb.  x.  26,  27. 

Remember  the  doctrine  of  degrees  of  pun- 
ishment, which  seems  to  diminish  the  horrors 
of  hell  in  regard  to  pagans,  and  i  'hristians 
educated  in  superstition  and  ignorance,  has 
every  thing  in  it  to  augment  the  horror  of 
futuie  pain  in  regard  to  such  v- hristians  as 
most  of  us  are. 

Recollect  what  sort  of  persons  God  re- 
serves for  this  state.  Not  only  assassins,  mur- 
derers, highway  robbers  ;  but  also  apostates, 
who  know  the  truth,  but  who  sacrifice 
through  worldly  interests  the  profession  of 
truth  to  idolatry ;  misers,  usurers,  unjust 
persons,  gluttons  ;  unclean,  implacable,  life- 
less lukewarm  professors  of  Christianity  ;  all 
these  are  included  in  the  guilt  and  punish- 
ment of  sin. 

Remember,  we  must  be  wilfully  blind,  if 
we  deny,  that  in  this  town,  in  this  ciiurch, 
in  this  flock,  in  this  assembly,  among  you,  my 
hearers,  who  listen  to  me,  and  look  at  me, 
there  are  such  persons  as  I  just  now  mention- 
ed, each  of  whom  must  come  to  this  reflec- 
tion ;  I  myself,  I  perhaps,  am  in  a  state  of 
damnation,  perhaps  my  name  is  one  in  the 
fatal  list  of  those  at  whom  these  threatenings 
point. 

Go  farther  yet.  Remember,  this  life  is  the 
only  time  given  you  to  prevent  these  terrible 
punishments.  After  this  life,  no  more  e.\- 
hortations,  no  more  sermons,  no  more  admis- 
sion of  sighs  and  tears,  no  more  place  for  re- 
pentance. 

After  this, think  on  the  brevity  of  life.  Think, 
there  may  be  perhaps  only  one  year  granted, 
perhaps  only  one  month, perhaps  only  one  day, 
perhaps  only  one  hour,  perhaps  only  one  mo- 
ment, to  avoid  this  misery  ;  so  that  perhaps, 
OLord  avert  the  dreadful  supposition  !)  per- 
haps some  one  of  us  may  this  very  day  expe- 
rience all  these  torments  and  pains. 

Finally,  consider  the  spirit,  that  this  mo- 
ment animates  us,  the  drift  of  this  discourse, 
and,  to  say  more,  consider  what  God  is  now 
doing  in  your  favour.  In  a  plenitude  of  com- 
passion, and  with  bowel-i  of  the  tenderest 
ove.  he  entreats  and  exhorts  you  to  escape 
these  terrible  miseries  ;  he  conjures  you  not 
to  destroy  yourselves  ;  he  says  to  you,  '-  O 
that  my  people  would  hearken  unto  me.    Be 


Seb.  XLL] 


THE  UNIFORMITY  OF  GOD,  &c. 


363 


instructed,  O  Jerusalem,  lest  my  soul  depart 
from  thee  !  Why,  why  will  ye  die  '  O  house 
of  Israel !'  Ps.  Ixxxi.  S  ;  Jer.  vi.  8.  O  !  were 
we  wise,  these  expostulations  would  reijin  over 
our  hearts  I  O  !  if  there  reiiiained  the  least 
spark  of  reason  in  us,  t'le  frightful  image  of 
hell  would  hencefi.rth  make  the  deepest  im- 
pressions on  our  souls  ! 

Frightful  ideas  of  judgment  and  hell '.  may 
yon  be  always  in  my  mind,  when  the  world 
would  decoy  nie  to  stain  my  ministry  by  its 


vain  and  glaring  snarrs!  Frightfiil  ideas  of 
judgment  and  hell !  may  you  strike  all  these 
hearers  so  as  to  give  success  to  this  sermon, 
and  weight  to  our  ministry  I  Frightful  ideas 
of  judgment  and  hell !  may  you  ever  follow 
us,  so  that  by  knowing  the  terror  of  avenging 
justice,  and  the  unspeakable  value  of  grace 
set  before  us,  we  may  be  rendered  capable  of 
partic  pating  eternal  glory  ;  which  I  wish 
you.  my  brethren,  in  the  name  of  tlie  Father, 
and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  (.ihost.  Amen. 


SERxlfON  XLI. 


THE  UNIFORMITY  OF  GOD  IN  HIS  GOVERNMENT 


HEBREWS  xiii.  8. 
Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday^  and  to-day  ^  and  for  ever. 


^T.  Paul  gives  us  a  very  beautiful  idea  of 
God,  when  he  says,  '  The  wisdom  of  God  is 
manifold,'  Eph.  iii.  10.  The  first  great  c;iuse, 
the  Supreuie  Being,  has  designs  infinitely 
diversified.  This  appears  by  the  various  be- 
ings which  he  has  created,  and  by  the  d  flrar- 
ent  ways  in  which  he  governs  them. 

What  a  variety  in  created  beings  !  A  ma- 
terial world,  and  an  intelligent  world  I  Mat- 
ter variously  modified,  or,  as  the  apostle 
speaks,  '  One  kind  of  flesh  of  men,  another 
flesh  of  beasts,  another  of  fishes,  another  of 
birds,  celestial  bodies,  and  bodies  terrestial  ; 
one  glory  of  the  sun,  another  glory  of  the 
moon,"  and  so  on  to  an  infinite  multitude. 
There  is  a  similar  variety  of  spirits ;  men, 
angels,  seraphim,  cherubim,  powers,  domi- 
nions, archangels,  and  thrones. 

What  a  variety  in  the  manner  in  which 
God  governs  these  beings.'  To  restrain  our- 
selves to  men  only,  are  not  some  loaded  with 
benefits,  and  others  depressed  with  adver- 
sities .'  Does  lie  not  enlighten  some  by  nature, 
others  by  the  law,  and  others  by  the  gospel  i 
Did  he  not  allow  the  antediluvians  one  period 
of  life,  the  cities  of  the  plain  anotlier,  and  us 
another  ;  the  first  he  overwhelmed  with 
water,  the  next  consumed  by  fire,  and  the 
last  by  an  endless  variety  of  means. 

But,  although  there  be  a  diversity  in  the 
conduct  of  God,  it  is  always  a  diversity  of 
wisdom.  Whether  he  creates  a  material  or 
an  intelligent  world  ;  whether  he  forms  celes- 
tial or  terrestrial  bodies, men,angels,seraphim, 
or  cherubim  ;  whether  he  governs  the  uni- 
verse by  the  same,  or  by  different  laws  ;  in 
all  cases,  and  at  all  times,  he  acts  like  a  God, 
he  has  only  one  principle,  and  that  is  order. 
There  is  a  harmony  in  his  perfections,  which 
he  never  disconcerts.  There  is  in  his  con- 
duct a  uniformity,  which  is  the  great  charac- 
ter of  his  actions.  His  variety  is  always  wise, 
or,  to  repeat  the  words  just  now  mentioned, 
'  the  wisdom  of  God  is  of  many  kinds.' 

These  great  truths  we  intend  to  set  before 
you  to-day  ;    for  on  these  the  apostle  intend- ' 


ed  to  treat  in  his  epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 
Look,  said  he  on  the  pres>'nt  period,  reflect 
on  past  times,  anticipate  the  future,  run 
through  all  dimensions  of  time,  dive  into  the 
abysses  of  eternity,  you  will  always  find  the 
perfections  of  God  in  exact  harmony,  you 
will  perceive  an  exact  uniformity  charac- 
terize his  actions,  you  will  acknowledge,  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  '  true  God  and  i.ternal  life, 
the  same  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  forever,' 
1  John  v.  20. 

Are  you  disposed,  my  brethren,  to  elevate 
your  minds  a  little  while  above  sense  and 
matter .''  Can  you  sutficiently  suspend  the 
impressions,  which  sensible  objects  made  ou 
your  minds  last  week,  to  give  such  an  atten- 
tion to  this  subject  as  its  nature  and  impor- 
tance demand .'  Let  us  then  enter  into  the 
matter,  and  God  grant  while  we  are  con- 
templating to-day  the  harmony  of  his  per- 
fections, and  the  uniformity  of  his  govern- 
ment, we  maybe  'changed  into  his  image 
from  glory  to  glory,  even  as  by  his  Spirit.' 
God  grant,  as  far  as  it  is  compatible  with  the 
inconstancy  essential  to  human  nature,  we 
may  be  always  the  same,  and  amidst  the  per- 
petual vicissitudes  of  life  may  have  only  one 
principle,  that  is  to  obey  and  please  him! 
Amen 

I  shall  connect,  as  well  as  I  can,  the  differ- 
ent explications  of  my  text ;  I  would  rather 
conciliate  them  in  this  manner,  than  consume 
my  hour  in  relating,  and  comparing  them, 
and  in  selecting  the  most  probable  from 
them. 

These  expositions  may  be  reduced  to  three 
classes.  Some  say,  the  apostle  speaks  of  the 
person  of  Jesus  Christ  ;  others  of  his  doc- 
trine ;  and  a  third  class  apply  the  passage  to 
the  protection  that  he  affords  his  church. 

The  first  class  of  expositors,  who  apply  the 
text  to  the  person  of  ,)esus  Christ,  are  not 
unanimous  to  the  strict  sense  of  the  work  ; 
.?ome  think,  ttie  apostle  speaks  of  the  human 
nature  of  Jesus  Clirist,  and  others  say,  he 
speaks  of  his  divine  nature.  The  latter  take  the 


3G4 


THE  UNIFORMITY  OF 


[S£R.    XLI. 


text  for  a  proof  of  his  eternity  ;  and  accord- 
ing to  tliem  the  words  are  synonymous  to 
these,  '  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega,  tJie  Lord, 
which  is,  and  which  was,  and  which  is  to 
come,  the  Ahniirlitv,'  Rev.  i.  8 

The  former  consider  the  apostle  as  speaking 
of  Ciirist  either  as  man,  or  as  mediator;  and 
according  to  them  St.  Paul  means  to  say, 
The  Saviour,  vi'hom  I  propose  to  you.  was  the 
Saviour  of  Adam,  of  Ahrnham,  and  of  the 
whole  church,  agreeably  to  what  I  have  else- 
where aflRrmed.  '  Him  hath  God  set  forth  a 
propitiation  through  faith,  for  the  remission 
of  sins  that  are  past,'  Rom.  iii.  25;  that  is, 
his  sacrifice  always  was  the  relief  of  sin- 
ners. 

The  second  clnss  of  interpreters  afSrm.  that 
St.  Paul  does  not  speak  of  the  person  of 
Jesus  rhrist:  but  of  his  doctrine.  In  this 
view  the  text  must  be  connected  with  the 
words  which  immediately  follow,  be  not  car- 
ried about  with  divers  and  strange  doctrines.' 
Why  would  not  the  apostle  have  Christians 
carried  about  with  divers  doctrines  ?  Because 
Jesus  Christ,  that  is  Christianity,  the  religion 
tauoht  by  Jesus  Christ,  is  always  the  same, 
and  is  not  subject  to  the  uncertainty  of  any 
liuman  science. 

But  other  expositors  ascribe  a  quite  differ- 
ent sense  to  the  words,  and  .say,  the  apostle 
speaks  neither  of  the  person  of  Christ,  nor  of 
his  doctrine,  but  of  that  protection  which  he 
affords  believers  Accordino-  to  this,  the 
text  has  no  connexion  with  the  following 
verse,  but  v.-ith  that  which  goes  before.  St. 
Pnul  had  been  proposing  to  the  believing 
Hebrews  the  examples  of  their  ancestors  and 
predecessors,  some  of  whom  had  sealed  the 
doctrine  of  the  gospel  with  their  blood.  '  Re- 
member' your  guides.  '  who  have  spoken  unto 
you  the  word  of  God  ;  whose  faith  follow, 
considering  the  end  of  their  conversation.' 
In  order  to  induce  them  to  imitate  these 
bright  examples,  he  adds,  '  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  same  yesterday,  and  to-dav  and  for  ever  ;' 
that  is  to  say,  he  supported,  and  rewarded  his 
primitive  martyrs,  and  he  will  confirm  and 
crown  all  who  shall  have  courage  to  follow 
their  example. 

It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  this  list  of 
various  opinions  :  but,  as  I  said,  I  will  con- 
nect the  three  different  expositions  which 
have  been  >>  entioned.  and  endeavour  to  show 
vou  the  admirable  harmony  of  the  perfections 
of  God,  and  the  uniformity  of  his  actions  in 
regard  to  mankind,  first  as  they  appear  in  the 
economy  of  time,  and  secondly  in  that  of 
eternity  ;  and  we  will  attempt  to  prove  that 
God  is  the  same  in  both. 

I.  We  see  in  the  economy  of  time  four  re- 
markable varieties.  I.  A  varipty  in  the  de- 
grees of   knowledge   given    to  the  church 

2.  A  variety  in  the   worship  required    of  it. 

3.  A  variety  in  the  nature  of  the  evidences, 
on  wh'ch  it  his  pleased  God  to  found  th» 
fa i Hi  of  the  church.  4.  A  variety  in  the  laws, 
that  he  has  thoug-ht  proper  to  prescribe.  At 
oup  time  he  trave  only  a  small  dejrree  of 
knowledare  ;  at  anoth'-r  he  drew  aside  the 
veil,  and  exnosed  to  public  view  the  whole 
body  of  ♦rutb  and  knowledrre.  At  one  time 
he  orescribcd  the  observation  r<fn  o-rpat  many 
gross  ceremonies   along   vvitji   that  spiritual 


worship,  which  he  required  of  men  ;  at  ano- 
ther time  he  required  a  worship  altogether 
spiritual  and  free  from  ceremonial  usages. 
At  one  time  his  laws  tolerated  some  remains 
of  concujjiscence  ;  at  another  time  he  com- 
manded the  eradication  of  every  fibre  of  sin. 
At  one  time  the  church  saw  sensible  miracles, 
and  grounded  faith  on  them  ;  at  another  time 
faith  followed  a  train  of  reasoning,  made  up 
of  principle  and  consequences.  Atone  time 
the  church  participated  worldly  pomps  and 
grandeurs  ;  at  another  it  experienced  all  the 
misery  and  ignominy  of  the  world. 

A  work  so  different,  and,  in  some  sort,  so 
opposite  in  its  parts,  is,  however,  the  work  of 
one  and  the  same  God.  And  what  is  more 
remarkable,  a  work,  the  parts  of  which  are  so 
different  and  so  opposite,  arises  from  one 
principle,  that  is,  from  the  union  and  har- 
mony of  the  divine  perfections.  The  same 
principle,  that  inclined  God  to  grant  the 
church  a  small  degree  of  light  at  one  time, 
engaged  him  to  grant  a  greater  degree  at 
another  time.  Tlie  same  principle  which  in- 
duced him  to  require  a  gross  worship  under 
the  economy  of  the  law,  inclined  him  to  ex- 
act a  worship  wholly  spiritual  under  the  gos- 
pel ;  and  so  of  the  rest. 

1.  We  see  in  God's  governrnent  of  hi.? 
church,  various  degrees  of  light  communica- 
ted. Compare  the  time  of  JVIoses  with  that 
of  the  prophets,  and  that  of  the  prophets  with 
that  of  the  evangelists  and  apostles,  and  the 
d'fi'erpnce  will  be  evident.  Moses  did  not  en- 
ter into  a  particular  detail  concerning  God, 
the  world  in  generator  man  in  particular.  It 
should  seem,  the  principal  view  of  this  legis- 
lator, in  regard  to  God,  was  to  establish  the 
doctrine  of  his  unity ;  at  most  to  give  a  vague 
idea  of  his  perfections.  It  should  seem,  his 
chief  design  in  regard  to  the  world  in  general 
was  to  prove  that  it  was  the  production  of 
that  <iod,  whose  unity  he  established- 
And,  in  regard  toman  in  particular,  it  should 
seem,  his  principal  drift  was  to  teach,  that, 
being  a  part  of  a  world  which  had  a  begin- 
ning, he  himself  had  a  beginning,  that  he  de- 
rived his  existence  from  the  same  Creator, 
and  from  him  only  could  expect  to  enjoy  a 
happy  existence. 

Pass  from  the  reading  of  the  writings  of 
Moses  to  a  survey  of  the  prophecies,  thence 
proceed  to  the  gospels  and  epistles,  and  you 
will  see  truth  unfold  as  the  sacred  roll  opens. 
You  will  be  fully  convinced,  that  as  John  the 
Baptist  had  more  knowledge  than  any  of  his 
predecessors,  so  he  himself  had  less  than  any 
of  his  followers 

In  these  various  degrees  of  knowledge 
communicated  by  God  to  men,  I  see  that  uni- 
formity which  is  the  distinguishing  character 
of  his  actions,  and  the  inviolable  rule  of  his 
government  The  same  principle  that  in- 
clined him  to  grant  a  little  light  to  the  age^f 
Moses,  inclined  him  to  afi'ord  more  to  the 
time  of  the  prophets  and  the  greatest  of  all 
to  the  age  in  which  the  evangelists  and  apos- 
tles lived.  What  is  this  principle  ?  It  is  a 
principle  of  order,  which  requires  that  the 
object  proposed  to  a  faculty  be  proportioned  to 
tins  faculty  ;  that  a  truth  proposed  to  ,in  in- 
tellicence  be  proportioned  to  this  intelligence. 
What   proportion  wculd  there  have   been 


Seb.  XLl.] 


GOD  IN  HIS  GOVERNMENT. 


365 


between  the  truths  proposed  to  the  Israelites, 
when  they  came  out  of  Egypt,  and  the  state 
in  which  they  then  were,  bad  God  revealed 
all  the  doctrines  to  them  which  he  lias  since 
revealed  to  us  ?  Could  a  people  ham  in  sla- 
very, employed  in  the  meanest  worHfc  without 
education,  meditation,  and  reading,  attain  a 
just  notion  of  those  sublime  ideas,  which  the 
prophets  have  given  us  of  the  Deity  ?  How 
could  God  have  enabled  them  to  conceive 
lightly  of  these  truths  unless  he  had  uiore 
than  assisted  them,  unless  he  had  new  made 
them?  And  how  could  he  have  recreated 
them,  if  I  may  speak  so,  as  far  as  was  neces- 
sary to  fit  them  for  understanding  these 
truths,  without  annihilating  their  faculties, 
and  without  violating  that  law  of  order,  which 
requires  every  one  to  make  use  of  his  own 
faculties  ?  What  proportion  would  there  have 
been  between  the  state  of  the  Israelites  and 
their  abilities,  had  God  revealed  to  them 
some  doctrines  taught  us  in  the  gospel? 
These  would  have  been,  through  the  stupi- 
dity of  the  people,  useless,  and  even  danger- 
ous to  them.  Thus  we  may  justly  suppose 
uf  some  prophecies  concerning  the  Messiah ; 
had  they  represented  him  in  such  a  manner 
as  the  event  has  shown  him  to  us,  the  re- 
presentation, far  from  attaching  them  to 
the  worship  of  God,  would  have  tempted 
them  to  conform  to  that  of  some  other 
nations,  which  was  more  agreeable  to  their 
concupiscence.  Particularly,  of  tlie  doctrine 
of  the  Trinity,  which  makes  so  considerable 
a  part  of  the  Christian  system,  we  may  justly 
suppose  what  I  have  said.  A  people  who  had 
lived  among  idolaters,  a  people,  who  had  been 
accustomed  not  only  to  multiply  gods,  but 
also  to  deify  the  meanest  creatures,  could 
Buch  a  people  have  been  told  without  danger, 
that  in  the  Divine  essence  there  was  a  Father, 
a  Son,  and  a  Holy  Spirit  ?  Would  not  this 
doctrine  have  been  a  snare  too  powerful  for 
their  reason?  If  they  so  often  fell  into  poly- 
theism, that  is,  into  the  notion  of  a  plurality 
of  Gods,  in  spite  of  all  the  precautions  that 
JMoses  used  to  preserve  them  from  it,  what, 
pray,  would  have  been  the  case,  had  their  re- 
ligion itself  seemed  to  favour  it? 

If  wo  follow  this  rea.soning,  we  shall  see, 
tthat  when  the  church  was  in  a  state  of  infan- 
cy, God  proportioned  his  revelation  to  an  in- 
fant state,  as  he  proportioned  it  to  a  mature 
age,  when  the  church  had  arrived  at  maturity. 
This  is  an  idea  of  St.  Paul,  '  When  I  was  a 
child,  I  thought  as  a  child,'  1  Cor.  xiii.  11. 
I  thought  the  perfections  of  the  great  God 
had  some  likeness  to  the  imperfections  of 
men,  at  least,  I  was  not  sufficiently  struck 
with  the  immense  distance  between  human 
imperfections  and  divine  excellence  ;  I  repre- 
sented God  to  myself  as  a  being  agitated  with 
human  passions,  and  capable  of  wrath,  jea- 
lousy, and  repentance  :  '  But  when  I  became 
a  man,  I  put  away  childish  things ;'  God 
made  me  understand,  what  he  described  him- 
self to  be  under  these  emblems,  for  the  sake 
of  proportioning  himself  to  my  capacity,  con- 
descending, as  it  were,  to  lisp  with  mo,  in 
order  to  learn  me  to  speak  plainly.  '  When  I 
\vas  a  child,  I  thought  as  a  child ;'  I  thought 
it  was  a  matter  of  great  consequence  to  man 
fa  have  frnitful  fields,  hearv  liarvests,  and 

;?  A 


victorious  armies  ;  I  thought  a  long  life,  pro- 
tracted through  several  ages,  the  greatest  fe- 
licity that  a  mortal  could  enjoy :  '  But  when 
I  became  a  man,  I  put  away  childish  things;' 
God  then  revealed  to  me  his  design  in  pro- 
posing motives  to  me  adapted  to  my  weak- 
ness ;  it  was  to  attract  me  to  himself  by  these 
incitements ;  then  I  understood,  that  tho 
longest  life,  how  happy  and  splendid  soever 
it  might  be,  fell  infinitely  short  of  satisfying 
the  wants  and  desires  of  a  soul,  conscious  of 
its  own  dignity,  and  answering  to  the  excel- 
lence of  its  origin:  I  was  convinced,  that  a 
soul  aspiring  to  eternal  felicity,  and  fill- 
ed v.'ith  the  noble  ambition  of  participating 
the  happiness  of  the  immortal  God,  considers 
with  equal  indifference  the  highest  and  the- 
meanest  offices  in  society, riches  andpoverty, 
the  sliort  duration  of  twenty  years,  and  the. 
little  longer  of  a  hundred.  '  When  I  was  a 
child,  I  thought  as  a  child  ;'  1  thought  the 
Messiah,  so  often  promised  in  the  prophecies, 
so  often  represented  in  types,  and  expected 
with  so  much  ardour  by  the  church,  would 
come  to  hold  a  superb  court,  to  march  at  the 
head  of  a  numerous  army,  to  erect  a  throne, 
to  seat  himself  there,  and  to  make  the  Ro- 
mans, the  conquerors  of  the  whole  earth, 
lick  the  dust :  '  But  when  I  became  a  man  I 
put  away  childish  things  ;'  God  informed  mo. 
that  a  Messiah,  sent  to  make  me  happy,  must 
come,  to  restrain  my  avidity  for  the  world, 
and  not  to  gratify  it,  to  check  my  passions, 
and  not  to  irritate  them;  he  instructed  me, 
that  a  Messiah,  appointed  to  redeem  mankind, 
must  be  fastened  to  a  cross,  and  not  seated 
on  a  throne,  must  subdue  the  devil, death,  and 
sin,  and  not  the  Romans  ;  must  be  despiseit 
and  rejected,  and  not  encircled  with  a  pom- 
pous court. 

2.  What  justifies  the  government  of  God 
on  one  of  these  articles,  on  the  various  de- 
grees of  light  bestowed  on  his  church,  will 
fully  justify  him  in  regard  to  the  worship  re- 
quired by  him.  Let  Jesus  Christ,  as  far  as 
the  subject  will  allow,  be  opposed  to  Moses  ; 
contrast  Moses  giving  a  hundred  ceremonial 
precepts  along  with  one  precept  of  morality, 
with  Jesus  Christ  giving  a  hundred  moral 
precepts  with  one  ceremony.  Compare  Mo- 
ses, imposing  on  the  Israelites  '  heavy  bur- 
dens grievous  to  be  borne,'  Matt,  xxiii.  A. 
with  Jesus  Christ,  projjosing  '  an  easy  yoke 
and  a  light  burden,'  chap.  xi.  30.  Oppose 
RIoses  enjoining  festivals,  purifications,  sacri- 
fices, and  observances  without  number,  to 
Jesus  Christ  reducing  all  the  ritual  of  his  re- 
ligion to  baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper,  to  a 
worship  the  least  encumbered,  and  the  most 
artless  and  simple,  that  ever  a  religion  pro- 
posed declaring, '  Now  is  the  hour,  when  the 
true  worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in 
spirit  and  in  truth,'  John  iv.  23.  Notwith- 
standing this  seeming  difference,  God  acts  on 
the  uniform  principle  of  order.  Uniformity, 
if  I  may  express  myself  so,  is  in  him  the 
cause  of  variety,  and  the  same  principle, 
that  engaged  him  to  prescribe  a  gross  sensi- 
ble worship  to  the  Israelites,  engages  him  to 
prescribe  a  worship  of  another  kind  to  Chris- 
tians. 

Conceive  of  the  Jews,  as  we  have  just  now 
described  them,  enveloped   in  matter,  loving 


366 


TPIE  UNIFORMITY  OF 


[Ser.  XLI. 


to  see  the  objects  of  their  worship   before 

their  eyes,  and,   as  they  themselves  said,  to 

have  '  gods  ^oing  before  them,'   Exod.  xxxii. 

1.     Imagine   these    gross   creatures   coming 

into  our  assembUes,  how  could  they,  being  all 

sense  and  imagination  (so  to  speak),  exercise 

the  better  powers  of  their  souls,  vvithout  ob- 

■jects  operating    on   fancy  and   sense  ?    How 

could  they  have  made  reflection,  meditation, 

and  thought,   supply  the  place  of  hands  and  |  church ;    and  this  is  our  third  article.     What 

eyes,  they,  who  hardly  knew  what  it  v>"as  to  i  a  striking  difference  !    Formerly  the  church 


ferior  to  ours?  The  same  principle,  then, that 
inclined  the  Supreme  Being  to  exact  of  his 
church  a  gross  ceremonial  worship,  under 
ancient^ispensations,  engages  him  to  re- 
quire a^orship  altogether  spiritual,  and  de- 
tached warn  sensible  objects,  under  the  dis- 
pensation of  tlic  gospel. 

3.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  evidence.". 
on   whicji  God  has  founded  the  faith  of  his 


meditate?  How  could  they,  who  had  hardly 
any  idea  of  spirituality,  have  studied  the  na- 
ture of  God  abstractly,  which  yet  is  the  only 
way  of  conducting  us  to  a  clear  knowledge  of 
a  spiritual  Being? 

If  thereover  was  a  religion  proper  to  spirit- 
ualize men  ;  if  ever  a  religion  was  fitted  to 
produce  attention  and  emulation,  and  to  fix 
our  ideas  on  an  invisible  God,  certainly  it  is 
the  Christian  religion.  And  yet  how  few 
Christians  are  capable  of  approaching  God. 
without  the  aid  of  sensible  objects  !  VVhence 
come  those  rich  altars,  superb  edifices,  mag- 
nificent decorations,  statues  of  silver  and  gold 
adorned  with  precious  stones,  pompous  pro- 
cessions, gaudy  habits,  and  all  that  heap  of 
ceremonies,  with  which  one  whole  communi- 
ty employs  the  minds,  or,  shall  1  rather  say, 
amuses  the  senses  of  its  disciples  ?  All  these 
argue  a  general  disinclination  to  piety  with 


saw  sensible  m.iracles,  level  to  the  weakest 
capacities  ;  at  present  our  faith  is  founded  on. 
a  chain  of  principles  and  consequences,  which 
find  exercise  for  the  most  penetrating  ge- 
niuses. How  many  times  have  infidels  re- 
proached us  on  acco\mt  of  this  difference  ! 
How  often  have  they  inferred,  that  the  church 
never  saw  miracles,  because  there  are  none 
wrought  now  !  How  often  have  they  pretend- 
ed to  prove,  that,  had  miracles  ever  been 
wrouglit,  tliey  ought  to  be  performed  still'. 
But  tjiis  triumph  is  imaginary,  and  onlj' 
serves  to  di.splay  the  absurdity  of  those  who 
make  parade  of  it. 

A  wise  being,  who  proposes  a  truth  to  an  in- 
telligent creature  ought  to  proportion  his  proofs 
not  only  to  the  importance  of  the  truth  pro- 
posed, and  to  the  capacity  of  him  to  whom  evi- 
dence is  offered,  but  also  to  his  own  end  in  pro- 
posing it.     If  he  intend  only,  by  proposing  a 


out  ceremony.  Whence  comes  another  kind  truth,  to  make  it  understood,  he  will  give  all 
of  superstition,  which,  though  less  gross  in  his  arguments  as  much  clearness  and  facility 
appearance,  is  more  so  in  effect  ?  How  is  it,  i  as  they  are  capable  of  having  :  but  if  he  de- 
that  some  of  you  persuade  yourselves,  that  |  signs,  by  proposing  a  truth,  to  exercise  the 
God,  though  he  docs  not  require  any  longer,  i  faculties  of  him  to  whom  it  was  proposed;  if 
the  pompous  worship  of  the  Jews,  will  yet  be  |  he  intends  to  put  his  obedience  to  the  trial, 
perfectly  satisfied  with  the  observation  of  the  and  to  render  him  in  some  sort  worthy  of  the 
Christian  ritual,  although  it  be  always  unac-  !  benefit  which  he  means  to  bestow ;  then  it 
companied  with  the  exercise  of  the  mind,  and  |  will  be  necessary  indeed  to  place  the  argu- 


the  emotions  of  the  heart  ?  Whence  comes 
this  kind  of  superstition  ?  It  proceeds  from 
the  same  disposition,  a  disinclination  and  a 
difticulty  to  approach  God  without  the  aid 
of  sensible  things  And  yet,  all  things  con- 
sidered, a  pompous  worship  is  more  worthy 
of  God  than  a  plain  worship.  The  Jew,  who 
offers  hecatombs  to  God,  honours  the  Deity 
more  than  the  Christian,  who  offers  only 
prayers  to  him.  The  Jew,  who  cleanses  his 
hands,  feet,  and  habits,  when  he  goes  to  pre- 
sent himself  before  God,  honours  him  much 
more  than  the  Christian,  who  observes  none 
of  these  ceremonies,  when  he  approaches  him. 
The  Jew,  who  comes  from  the  farthest  part 


nients,  on  which  the  truth  is  founded,  in  a 
strong  and  conclusive  point  of  view  ;  but  it 
will  not  be  necessary  to  give  them  all  the 
clearness  and  facility  of  which  they  are  capa- 
ble. 

Wh)',  then,  you  will  say,  did  not  God  give 
to  the  contemporaries  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
his  apostles,  such  an  exercise  of  capacity  a? 
he  gives  to  Christians  now^  ?  Why  should  a 
truth,  made  so  very  intelligible  then  by  a 
seal  of  miracles,  be  inaccessible  to  us,  except 
by  the  painful  Vvay  of  reasoning  and  discus- 
sion ?  I  deny  the  principle,  on  which  this  ob- 
jection goes.  I  do  not  allow,  that  God  ex- 
ercised them,  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Christ 


of  the  world  to  adore  the  Deity  in  an  elegant  ^^d  his  apostles,  less  than  he  exercises  us. 
temple,  honours  God  much  more  than  the  Weigh  their  circumstances  against  yours; 
Christian,  who  worships  him  in  any  mean  represent  Christianity  destitute  of  those  ar- 
cdifice.  But  God  retrenclied  pomp  in  the  i  guments,  which  arise  in  favour  of  it  from 
exterior  of  religion,  lest  the  capacities  of  |  the  rejection  of  the  Jews,  and  the  conversion 
men's  minds,  too  much  taken  up  with,  pomp,  j  of  the  Gentiles;  imagine  men  called  to  own 
should  not  furnish  those  cool  reflections  of  for  their  Cod  and  Redeemer  a  man,  who  had 
mind,  and  those  just  sentiments  of  heart,  of  |  «  no  form,  nor  comeliness,'  Isa.  liii.  2,  a  mau 
which  the  Deity  appears  an  object  so  proper  |  dragged  from  one  tribunal  to  another,  from 
to  all  who  know  him,  as  he  is  revealed  in  the  one^'province  to  another,  and  at  last  expiring 
gospel.    If  Christians  then,  who,  through  the    on  a   cross.     How  needful  were  miracles  in 


'  nature  of  the  revelation,  with  which  God  has 
honoured  them,  know  the  Deity  better  than 
the  Jews  knew  him,  if  they  find  a  difllculty 
in  rendering  to  God  a  worsliip  of  heart  and 
mind  proportional  to  this  knowlodtve,  Vvhat 
would  have  been  the  difliculties  of  the  Jews, 
whose  degrees  of  knowledge  were  so  far  in- 


these  sad  times,  and,  with  all  their  aid,  how- 
hard  was  it  to  believe  !  Represent  to  your- 
selves the  whole  world  let  loose  against 
Christians;  imagine  the  primitive  disciples 
required  to  believe  the  heavenly  origin  of  a 
religion,  which  called  them  first  to  be  baptiz- 
ed in  water,  then  ii\  blood.     How  necessarv 


Skr.  XLX.j 


GOD  ixV  His  GOVERNMENT. 


367 


were  miracles  in  tliese  adverse  times, and  how 
Iiard,  with  all  the  encouragement  given  by 
them,  must  the  practice  of  duty  be  then  ! 
Weigh  these  circumstances  against  yours, 
and  the  balance  will  appear  more  equal  than 
3'ou  have  imagined.  There  is,  j'ou  will  per- 
ceive, a  uniibnnity  in  God's  government  of 
both,  even  when  hitj  government  seems  so 
very  dissimilar. 

4.  In  like  manner,  we  observe,  in  the 
fourth  place,  a  similar  uniformity  in  the  vari- 
r  ous  laws  prescribed  to  the  church.  One  of 
the  most  famous  questions,  which  the  theo- 
logical debates  of  the  latter  ages  have  pro- 
duced, is  that  which  regards  the  dift'ercnce 
between  the  morality  of  tiic  Old  and  New 
Testament.  Without  pronouncing  on  the 
<lifferent  manners  in  which  the  question  has 
■been  answered,  I  wil  content  myself  with 
proposing  what,  I  think,  ought  to  be  answer- 
ed. The  morality  of  both  dispensations,  it 
may  truly  be  affirmed,  in  one  sense  is  abso- 
lutely the  same :  but  in  another  sense  it  is 
:  lut  so.  The  great  principles  of  morality,  both 
jiiiong  Jews  and  Christians,  are  absolutely 
-he  same.  There  not  only  is  no  difference: 
f.)Lit  there  can  be  none.  It  would  be  incom- 
]iatible  with  the  perfections  of  the  Creator, 
to  suppose,  that,  having  formed  an  intelligent 
creature,  capable  of  knowing  him,  lie  should 
dispense  with  his  obligation  to  this  precept, 
the  ground  and  source  of  all  others,  '  Thou 
shall  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  and  vi'ith  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy 
mind,"  Matt.  xxii.  37.  This  was  the  morality 
of  Adam  and  Abraham,  Moses  and  the  pro- 
phets, Jesus  Christ  and  his  apostles. 

But  if  we  consider  the  consequences  that 
result  from  this  principle,  and  the  particular 
precepts  which  proceed  from  it,  in  these  re- 
spects morality  varies  in  different  periods  of 
the  church.  At  all  times,  and  in  all  places, 
God  required  his  church  to  '  love  him  with 
all  the  heart,  and  with  all  the  soul,  and  with 
all  the  mind  :'  but  he  did  not  inform  his  peo- 
ple at  all  times  and  in  all  places  the  manner 
in  which  he  required  love  to  express  itself. 
Expressions  of  love  must  be  regulated  by  ideas 
of  Deit}'.  Ideas  of  Diety  are  more  or  less 
pure  as  God  reveals  himself  moie  or  less 
clearl3^  We  have  seen  what  a  difference  there 
is  between  Christians  and  Jews  in  this  re- 
spect. We  have  even  proved,  that  it  was 
founded  on  the  perfections  of  God,  on  those 
laws  of  proportion,  which  he  inviolably  pur- 
sues. The  laws  of  proportion,  then,  which 
God  inviolably  follows,  and  the  eminence  of 
liis  perfections  also  require,  that,  as  he  has 
made  himself  known  to  Ciiristians  more  fully 
than  he  revealed  himself  to  the  Jews,  so  he 
should  require  of  the  disciples  of  Christ  a 
morality  more  refined,  and  more  enlarged. 
Variety,  therefore,  in  this  branch  of  divine 
government,  comes  from  uniformity,  which, 
as  I  have  often  said,  is  the  grand  character  of 
]ii3  actions. 

Let  us  not  pass  over  tiiis  article  lightly,  it 
"will  guard  you  against  the  attacks  of  some 
corrupters  of  morahty.  I  speak  of  tiiose,  who, 
Avishing  to  recall  such  times  of  licence  as  God 
permitted,  or  tolerated,  before  the  gospel, 
retrench  the  present  morality,  under  pretence 
that  what  was  once  allowable  is  always  al- 


lowable. These  persons  arc  never  weary  of 
repeating,  that  some  favourites  of  Heaven 
were  not  subject  to  certain  laws  ;  that  it  does 
not  appear  in  any  part  of  their  history,  either 
that  God  censured  their  way  of  living,  or  that 
they  repented  when  they  were  dying.  Hence 
they  infer,  that  some  maxims,  which  are  laid 
do.vn  in  our  usual  sermons,  and  treatises  of 
morality,  originate  in  the  gloom  of  a  casuist, 
or  the  caprice  of  a  preacher,  and  not  in  the 
will  of  God.  But  remember  this  saying  of 
Jesus  Christ,  '  In  the  beginning  it  was  not 
so,'  Matt.  xix.  8.  The  end  of  religion  is  to 
inform  and  refine  man  up  to  the  state  in 
which  he  was  at  '  the  beginning,'  that  is  in  a 
state  of  innocence.  This  work  is  done  by 
degrees.  It  began  in  the  first  age  of  the 
church,  it  will  be  finished  in  the  last.  As 
God  made  himself  known  to  believers  before 
the  gospel  only  in  part,  he  regulated  the 
requisite  expressions  of  love  to  himself  by 
that  degree  of  knowledge  of  his  perfections, 
which  he  had  given  them ;  for  his  attributes 
are  the  ground  of  this  love.  He  has  made 
known  these  attributes  more  clearly  under  the 
gospel,  and  he  apportions  the  expressions  of 
love  accordingly. 

But  if  this  article  affords  us  armour  against 
some  corrupters  of  morality,  it  affords  us  at 
the  same  time,  some  against  you,  my  dear 
brethren.  When  we  endeavour  to  animate 
vou  to  pious  actions  by  the  examples  of  Moses, 
t>avid,  and  many  others,  who  lived  under  the 
old  dispensation,  you  allege,  that  they  were 
saints  of  the  highest  class,  and  that  an  attain- 
ment of  such  piety  as  theirs  is  impossible  to 
you.  But  recollect  our  principle.  The  ex- 
pressions of  our  love  to  God  must  be  regula- 
ted by  our  knowledge  of  his  perfections.  The 
perfections  of  God  are  revealed  more  clearly 
to  Christians  than  they  were  to  Jews. 
'  Among  those,  that  were  born  of  women, 
there  was  not  a  greater  prophet  than  John 
the  Baptist;  but  he,  that  is  least  in  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  is  greater  than  he,'  Luke  vii. 
28.  The  least  in  love,  then  (if  I  may  venture 
to  speak  so),  the  least  in  love  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  must  bo  greater  than  John  the 
Baptist,  as  John  the  Baptist  was  greater  than 
his  predecessors.  As  John,  therefore,  had  a 
purer  morality  than  the  prophets  and  the 
patriarchs,  so  I  ought  to  have  a  morality 
purer  than  that  of  the  patriarchs  and  the 
prophets,  yea,  than  John  the  Baptist  himself. 
A  degree  of  love  to  God,  then,  which  would 
have  been  accounted  flame  in  them,  is  luke- 
warmness  and  ice  in  me,  to  whom  God  has 
revealed  himself  as  a  being  so  amiable,  and 
so  proper  to  inflame  his  intelligent  creatures 
with  love  to  him.  A  certain  attachment  to 
life,  and  to  sensible  objects,  then,  which 
would  have  been  tolerable  in  them,  would  bo 
intolerable  in  me,  who,  replete  as  1  am  with 
just  and  high  ideas  of  the  Deity,  ought  only 
to  be  aspiring  after  that  state,  in  which  1 
shall  be  united  to  God  more  closely,  than  in 
this  valley  of  imperfections  and  miseries  I  am. 
allowed  to  be. 

5.  Our  fifth  article  is  intended  to  justify  the 
various  conditions,  in  which  it  has  pleased 
God  to  place  his  church.  At  one  time  the 
church  enjoys  temj)oral  pomp  and  felicity,  at 
another  it  is  exposed  to  whatever  the  world 


oQH 


THE  UiN'IFOJlMlTY  OF 


[R5£U.   XLI. 


van  inveiU  oi'  Diisery  and  ioaominy.     Once  i 
the  churcli  filled  the  highest  post  iu  Kgypt  in  I 
Hio  persons  of  Joseph  and   his  family  ;  and  i 
fifterward  it  was  loaded  witli  Eifyptian  letters  1 
in  the  persons  of  this  patriarch's  descendants  :  | 
uno  while    leading   a  languishing    life  in    a  ! 
flescrt ;  another  time  attaining  the  height  of 
its   wishes  by  seeing  the   waters  of  Jordan : 
xlividc  to  give  a  passage,  by  entering  the  land 
iif  promise,  by  beholding  the  walls  of  Jericho 
fall  atthesoundoftrinnj)cl;s,])y  overshadowing  i 
v,  ith  an  awful  fear  the  minds  of  Hittites  and  , 
Perizzitcs,  Jebusites  and  Amorites,    Canaan-  | 
ifes   and  Amalekites:    sometimes  torn  from 
this  very  country,  to  which  a  train  of  miracles 
liad  opened  an  access,  led    into  captivity  by  ' 
Sennacheribs     and    Ncbucliadnezzars,     and  \ 
leaving  Jerusalem  and    its  temple  a  heap  of  | 
ruins  ;  at  other  times  re-established  by  Cyrus, ! 
and    other  princes    like  him,   reassembling  i 
fugitives  who  had  been  scattered   over    the  : 
face  of  the  whole  earth,  rebuilding  the  walls  ; 
of  Jerusalem,  and    readorning    the  temple :  | 
jiow  exposed  to  the  most  cruel  torments,  that  | 
such  as  Nero  and  Domitian,  Trajan,  Diocle-  \ 
iiian,  and  Decius  could  invent :    tiien   rising  j 
from  ruin  by  the  liberal  aid  of  Constantine  i 
and  Theodosius,  and  princes,  who  like  them,  ] 
became  patrons  of  the  cause.     Of  this  article, 
as  of  the   former,  I  affirm,  uniformity  pro- 
duced variety  ;  the  same  principle  that  pro- 
duced the  happy  days  of  the  triumphs  of  the 
church,   gave  birth   also  to  the    calamitous 
times,  which  caused  so  many  tears. 

Let  us  reason  in  regard  to  the  church  in 
general,  as  we  reason  in  regard  to  each  pri- 
vate member  of  it.     Do  you  think  (1  speak 
now  to  each  individual),  there  is  a  dimgeon 
so  deep,  a  chain  so  heavy,  a  misery  so  great, 
u  malady  so  desperate,  from  which  God  can- 
not deliver  you,  were  your  deliverance  suit- 
able to  the  eminence  of  his  perfections  .■"    Is 
there,  think  you,  any  condition  so  noble  that 
ho  cannot  elevate  you  to  it,  any  title  so  de- 
sirable that  he  cannot  grace  you  with  it,  any 
treasure   too    immense   for   him   to  bestow, 
^vould  the  law  of  proportion,  his  invariable 
Tule,  permit  him  ?    Or  dost  thou  really  think, 
Ood  takes  pleasure  in  imbittering  thy  life, 
in  taking  away  thy  children,  in  tarnishing 
thy  glory,  in  subverting  thine  establishments, 
ill  crushing   thy  house,  and  in  precipitating 
thee  from  the  highest  human  grandeur  to  the 
lowest  and  most  mortifying  station  ?   Do  you 
think  God  takes  pleasure  in  seeing  a  poor 
wretch  stretched  on  a  bed  of  infirmity,  and 
tormented  with  the  gout  or  the  stone  ?    Has 
lie  any  delight  in  hearing  an  agonized  mortal 
exhale  his  life  in  sighs   and  groans  ?    Why 
then  does  he  at  any  time  reduce  us  to  these 
dismal  extremities  ?     Order   requires    God, 
who  intends  to  save   you,   to   employ  those 
means,  which  are  most  likely  to  conduct  you 
to  salvation,  or,  if  you  refuse  to  profit  by  them, 
to  harden  you  under  them.  He  wills  your  sal- 
vation, and  therefore  he  removes  all  your  ob- 
stacles to  salvation.  He  takes  away  a  child,  be- 
cause it  is  become  an  idol;  he  tarnishes  gran- 
deur, because  it  dazzles  and  infatuates  its  pos- 
sessors; he  subvertspalaces,  because  they  make 
men  forget  graves,  their  last  homes;  he  precipi- 
tates  men  from   pinnacles  of  earthly  glory, 
betiaiiso  they  make  them  reasons  for  vanity 


and  insolence  ;  he  involves  his  creatures  iu 
pain  and  torture,  because  these  alone  make 
men  feel  their  diminutiveness,  their  depen- 
dance,  their  nullity.  As  order  requires  God, 
who  wills  your  salvation,  to  employ  the  most 
proper  means  to  conduct  you  to  it;  so  the 
same  order  requires  him  to  punish  contempt 
of  it.  It  is  right,  that  the  blackest  ingrati- 
tude, and  the  most  invincible  obdurac}',  should 
be  punished  with  extreme  ills.  It  is  just,  if 
God  be  not  glorified  in  your  conversion,  he 
should  be  in  your  destruction. 

Let  us  reason  in  regard  to  the  church  in 
general,  as  we  do  in  regard  to  the  individuals 
who  compose  it.  A  change  in  the  condition 
of  the  church,  does  not  argue  any  change  in 
the  attributes  of  God.  Is  his  arin  shortened, 
since  he  elevated  to  a  throne  those  illustrious 
potentates,  who  elevated  truth  and  piety 
along  with  tliemselves.''  Is  his  hand  shortened 
since  he  ingulfed  Pharaoh  in  the  waves  ?  since 
he  obliged  Nebnchadnezzar  to  eat  grass  like 
a  beast .'  Since  he  sent  a  destroying  angel  to 
slay  the  army  of  Sennacherib .'  Since  he 
struck  the  soul  of  Belshazzar  with  terror,  by 
writing  with  a  miraculous  hand  on  the  very 
walls  of  his  profane  festal  room  the  sentence 
of  his  condemnation?  The  same  eminence  ol* 
perfections,  which  engages  him  sometimes  to 
make  all  concur  to  the  prosperity  of  his 
church,  engages  him  at  other  times  to  unite 
all  adversities  against  it. 

II.  We  have  considered  Jesus  Christ  in  the 
economy  of  time,  now  let  us  consider  him  in 
the  economy  of  eternity.  We  shall  see  in 
this,  as  in  the  former,  that  harmony  of  perfec- 
tions, that  uniformity  of  government,  which 
made  our  ajiostle  say,  '  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
same  yesterdav,  and  to-day,  and  for  ever.' 

The  same  principle,  that  formed  his  plan  of 
human  government  in  the  economy  of  time, 
will  form  a  plan  altogether  different  in  that 
of  eternity.  The  same  principle  of  propor- 
tion, which  inclines  him  to  confine  our  facul- 
ties within  a  narrow  circle  during  this  life, 
will  incline  him  infinitely  to  extend  the  sphere 
of  them  in  a  future  state. 

The  same  principle  which  induces  him  now 
to  communicate  himself  to  us  in  a  small  de- 
gree, will  then  induce  him  to  communicate 
himself  to  us  in  a  far  more  eminent  degree. 

The  same  principle,  that  inchnes  him  now 
to  assemble  us  in  material  buildings,  to  cherish 
our  devotion  by  exercises  savouring  of  the 
frailty  of  our  state,  by  the  singing  ot  psalms, 
and  by  the  participation  of  sacraments,  will 
incline  him  hereafter  to  cherish  it  by  means 
more  noble,  more  subhme,  better  suited  to 
the  dignity  of  our  origin,  and  to  the  price  of 
our  redemption. 

The  same  principle,  which  inclines  him  to 
involve  us  now  in  indigence,  misery,  con- 
tempt, sickness,  and  death,  will  then  indnce 
him  to  free  us  from  all  these  ills,  and  to 
introduce  us  into  that  happy  state,  where 
there  will '  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow 
nor  crying,'  and  whore  '  all  tears  shall  he 
wiped  away  from  our  eyes,'  Rev.  xxi.  4.  Pro- 
portion requires,  that  intelligent  creatiires 
should  be  some  time  in  a  state  of  probation, 
and  this  is  the  nature  of  the  present  dispensa- 
tion: but  the  same  law  of  proportion  requires 
also,  that  after  intelligent  creatures    havr; 


iJEH.  XLL] 


GOD  IN  HIS  GOVERNMENT. 


369 


been  some  time  in  a  state  of  trial,  and  have 
answered  the  end   of  their  being  placed  in 
such  a  state,  there  should  be  a  state  of  retri- 
bution  in  an  eternal  economy.     The  same 
principle,  then,  that  inclines  Jesus  Christ  to 
adopt  the  planof  his  present  government,  will 
incline   him  to   adopt  a  different  plan  in  a  i 
future  state.     There  is,  therefore,  a  harmony  ' 
of  perfections,  a  uniformity  of  action  in  all  j 
the  varieties  of  the  two  economies.     In  the  I 
economy  of  time,  then,   as   well  as  in  the  \ 
economy  of  eternity,   '  Jesus   Christ  is  the  | 
same.'  | 

But  who  can  exhaust  this  profound  subject 
in  the  time  prescribed  for  a  single  sermon  ? 
Our  time  is  nearly  elapsed,  and  I  must  leave 
you,  my  brethren,  to  enlarge  on  such  conclu- 
sions as  I  shall  just  mention.  God  is  always 
the  same  ;  he  pursues  one  plan  of  government, 
arising  from  one  invariable  principle.  By 
this  truth  let  us  regulate  our  faith,  our  mo- 
rality, and  our  ideas  of  our  future  destiny. 

1.  Oar  faith.  I  will  venture  to  affirm,  that 
one  chief  cause  of  the  weakness  of  our  faith 
is  our  inattention  to  this  harmony  of  perfec- 
tions, this  uniformity  of  government  in  God. 
We  generally  consider  the  perfections  of  God 
and  his  actions  separately,  and  independent 
of  those  infinite  relations,  which  the  last  have 
to  the  first.  Hence,  when  God  displays  what 
we  call  his  justice,  he  seems  to  us  to  cease  to 
be  kind,  and  when  he  displays  what  we  call 
goodness,  he  seems  to  suspend  his  rigid  jus- 
tice. Hence  it  seems  to  us,  his  attributes 
perpetually  clash,  so  that  he  cannot  exercise 
one  without  doing  violence  to  another.  Hence 
we  sometimes  fear  God  without  loving  him, 
and  at  other  times  love  him  without  fearing 
him.  Hence  we  imagine,  so  to  speak,  many 
difl:erent  gods  in  one  deity,  and  are  ignorant 
whether  the  good  God  will  favour  us  with 
his  benefits,  or  the  just  God  will  punish  us 
with  his  avenging  strokes. 

False  ideas !  more  tolerable  in  people  in- 
voh'ed  in  pagan  regions  of  darkness  and  slia- 
dows  of  death  than  in  such  as  live  where  the 
light  of  the  gospel  shines  with  so  much  splen- 
dour. Let  us  adore  only  one  God,  and  let  us 
rvcknowledgo  in  him  only  one  perfection,  that 
is  to  say,  a  harmony,  which  results  from  all 
his  perfections.  When  he  displays  what  we 
call  his  bounty,  let  us  adore  what  we  call  his 
justice  ;  and  when  he  displays  what  we  call 
his  justice,  let  us  adore  what  we  call  his 
goodness.  Let  us  allow,  that  the  exercise  of 
one  attribute  is  no  way  injurious  to  another. 
If  this  idea  be  impressed  upon  our  minds,  our 
faith  will  never  be  shaken,  at  least  it  will 
never  be  destroyed  by  the  vicissitudes  of  tiie 
world,  or  by  those  of  the  church.  Why  ?  Be- 
cause wo  should  be  fully  convinced,  that  the 
vicissitudes  of  boih  proceed  from  the  same 
cause,  I  mean  the  immutability  of  that  God, 
who  says  by  the  mouth  of  one  of  his  prophets, 
'  I,  the  Lord,  change  not,'  Mai.  iii.  C. 

2.  But,  v/hen  I  began  this  discourse,  I  be- 
sought God,  that,  by  considerino-  this  subject, 
we  might  be  '  changed  into  the  same  image 
by  his  Spirit,'  and  this  petiti6n  I  address  to 
him  again  for  you.  God  has  only  one  princi- 
ple of  his  actions,  that  is,  proportion,  order, 
fitness  of  things.  Let  love  of  order  be  the 
principle  of  all  your  actions,  my  dear  brethren, 


it  is  the  character  of  a  Christian,  and  would 
to  God  it  were  the  character  of  all  my  hear- 
ers. A  Christian  has  only  one  principle  of 
action.  We  oflen  see  him  perform  actions, 
which  seem  to  have  no  relation ;  however, 
they  all  proceed  from  the  same  principle. 
The  same  motive,  that  carries  him  to  cimrch, 
engages  him  to  go  to  court ;  he  goes  into  the 
army  on  the  same  principle,  that  induces  hira 
to  visit  an  hospital ;  the  motive,  which  enga- 
ges him  to  perform  acts  of  repentance  and 
mortification,  inclines  him  to  make  one  in  a, 
party  of  pleasure  ;  because  if  order,  or  fitness 
of  things,  require  him  sometimes  to  perform 
mortifying  actions,  it  also  requires  him  af; 
other  times  to  take  some  recreation  :  because 
as  order  requires  hira  sometimes  to  visit  the 
sick,  it  requires  him  at  other  times  to  defend 
his  country  by  war ;  because  if  order  calls 
him  sometimes  to  church,  it  calls  him  at  other 
times  to  court ;  and  so  of  the  rest.  In  Scrip- 
ture-style this  disposition  of  mind  is  called 
'  walking  with  God,  setting  the  Lord  always 
before  us,'  Gen.  V.  24;  Ps.  xvi.  8.  Glorious 
character  of  a  Christian,  always  uniform,  and 
like  himself !  He  does  nothing,  if  I  may  bo 
allowed  to  speak  so,  but  arrange  his  actions 
differently,  as  his  circumstances  vary. 

3.  Finally,  this  idea  of  God  is  very  proper  to 
regulate  that  of  your  future  destiny.  "There 
is,  as  we  have  been  proving  in  this  discourse, 
one  principle  of  order,  that  governs  both  the 
economies  of  time  and  eternity.  But,  we 
have  elsewhere  observed,  there  are  two  sorts 
of  order  ;  there  is  an  absolute  and  a  relative 
order.  Relative  order,  or  fitness,  considered 
in  itself,  and  independently  of  its  relation 
to  another  economy,  is  a  real  disorder.  In 
virtue  of  this  relative  order,  we  may  live 
happily  here  awhile  in  the  practice  of  sin  : 
but,  as  this  kind  of  order  is  a  violent  state,  it 
cannot  be  of  long  duration.  If  therefore  you 
would  judge  of  your  eternal  destiny,  your 
judgment  must  be  regulated  not  by  an  idea 
of  relative  order,  which  will  soon  end :  bur, 
by  that  of  real,  absolute  order,  which  must 
have  an  eternal  duration ;  and  in  virtue  of 
which  vice  must  be  punished  with  misery,  ^i^. 
and  virtue  must  have  a  recompense  of  felicity. 

Put  these  questions  sometimes  to  your- 
selves, and  let  each  ask ;  What  will  my  con- 
dition be  in  a  state  of  absolute  fitness  ?  I, 
who  have  devoted  my  whole  life  to  counter- 
act the  great  design  of  religion,  to  misrepre- 
sent its  nature,  to  check  its  progress,  to  en- 
ervate its  arguments,  to  subvert  its  dominion, 
shall  I  shine  then  as  a  star  of  the  first  mag- 
nitude, along  with  them,  who  have  turned 
many  to  righteousness,  or  shall  I  partake  of 
the  _  punishment  of  the  tempter  and  his  infa- 
mous legions  ?  I,  who  tremble  at  the  thought 
of  giving  any  thing  away;  I,  who  enrich  my- 
self at  the  private  expense  of  individuals, 
and  at  the  public  expense  of  my  country,  at 
the  expense  of  my  friends,  and  even  of  my 
children,  shall  I  share  in  a  future  state  the 
felicity  of  that  generous  society,  which 
breathes  benevolence  only,  and  which  consi- 
ders the  happiness  of  others  as  its  own ;  of 
that  society,  which  is  happy  in  the  persons 
of  all,  who  participate  their  felicity ;  or  shall 
I  share  the  misery  of  those  infernal  socie-  \ 
*  ties,  which  seek  pleasure   in  tlie  miserie.'? 


370 


THE  NFCESSITY  OF 


[SjiR.  XLU. 


of  others,  and  so  become  mutually  self-tr- 
mentors  ? 

Do  we  wish  for  a  full  assurance  of  a  claim 
to  eternal  happiness  ?  Let  us  then  by  our  con- 
duct form  an  inseparable  relation  between 
our  eternal  felicity  and  the  invariable  perfec- 
tions of  that  God  who  changes  not ;  let  us 
spare  no  pains  to  arrive  at  that  happy  state  ; 
Iv.\t  us  address  to  God  our  m:>st  fervent 
prayers  to  enaraffe  him  to  bless  the  efforts 
which  we  make  to  enjoy  it  ;  and  after  we 
have  seriously  engaged  in  tiiis  great  work, 
let  us  fear  nothing.  The  same  principle, 
which  induced  God  to  restore  Isaac  to  Abra- 
ham, to  raise  as  it  were,  that  dear  child  by  a 
kind  of  resurrection  from  his  father's  knife, 
the  same  principle  that  engaged  him  to  ele- 
vate David  from  the  condition  of  a  simple 
shepherd  to  the  rank  of  a  king  ;  let  us  say  I 
more,  the  same  principle,  which  engaged  him  j 
to  open  the  gates  of  heaven  to  the  '  author' 


and  finisher  of  our  faith,'  Heb.  xii.  2,  after 
the  consummation  of  the  work,  for  which  he 
came ;  the  same  principle  will  incline  him  to 
unfold  the  gates  of  heaven  to  us,  when  we 
shall  have  finished  the  work  for  which  we 
were  born.  Our  felicity  will  be  founded  on 
the  Rock  of  ages ;  it  will  be  incorporated 
with  the  essence  of  an  unchangeable  God ; 
we  shall  stand  fast  in  perilous  times,  and 
when  the  world,  the  whole  world  tumbles  into 
ruins,  we  shall  exclaim  with  the  highest  joy, 
'  My  God  !  thou  didst  lay  the  foundation  of 
the  earth,  and  the  heavens  are  the  work  of 
thy  hands.  They  perish  :  but  thou  shalt  en- 
dure. They  all  shall  wax  old  like  a  garment: 
but  thiiu  art  the  same,  and  thy  years  shall 
have  no  end.  The  children  of  thy  servants 
shall  continue,  and  their  seed  shall  be  esta- 
blished before  thee,'  Ps.  cii.  24,  Nc.  God 
grant  this  may  be  our  happy  lot !  To  him 
be  honour  and  glory  for  ever.    Amen. 


SERMON    XL.II. 


THE  JNECESSITY  OF  UNIVERSAL  OBEDIENCE. 


James  ii.  10. 

Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  Imv,  and  yet  offend  in  one  pointy  is  guilty 

of  cdl 


My  BRETHREy, 

'''IV'ERE  I  obhged  to  give  a  title  to  the 
epistle,  from  which  I  have  taken  my  text, 
to  distinguish  it  from  the  other  books  of  our 
sacred  calion,  I  v^ould  call  it  the  paradoxes 
of  St.  James.  It  should  seem,  the  apostle 
had  no  other  design  in  writing  than  that  of 
surprising  his  readers  by  unheard-of  propo- 
sitions. In  the  first  chapter  he  subverts  that 
notion  of  religion,  which  is  generally  receiv- 
ed both  in  the  world  and  the  church.  To 
adore  the  God  of  heaven  and  earth,  to  re- 
ceive his  revelation,  to  acknowledge  his  Mes- 
siah, to  partake  of  his  sacraments,  to  burn 
with  zeal  for  his  worship,  this  is  usually  call- 
ed religion.  No,  says  St.  James,  this  is  not 
rehgion  ;  at  most  this  is  only  a  small  part  of 
it :  '  Rehgion  consists  in  visiting  the  father- 
less and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  in 
keeping  himself  unspotted  fi-om  the  world,' 
ver.  27.  In  the  second  chapter  he  seems  to 
take  pains  to  efface  the  grand  character  of  a 
Christian,  and  of  Christianity  itself,  and  to 
destroy  this  fundamental  truth  of  the  gospel, 
'  that  man  is  justified  by  faith  without  the 
deeds  of  tlie  law,'  Rom.  iii.  28.  '  No,'  says 
he, '  man  is  not  justified  by  faith  only ;  Abra- 
ham our  father  was  justified  by  works,'  chap, 
ii.  24,  21,  and  all  Christians  are  justified  by 
works.  In  another  place,  St.  James  sceins  to 
place  all  religion  in  some  minute  and  compa- 
ratively inconsiderable  articles,  or,  what 
comes  to  much  the  same,  to  teach,  that  the 
omission  of  some  comparatively  small  duty 
renders  the  most  pure  and  solid  piety  of  no 


account.  Levity  of  conversation  is  one  of 
these  articles.  How  different,  my  brethren ! 
is  the  morality  of  the  Scriptures  from  the 
morality  of  the  world  !  We  often  hear  high 
encomiums  of  some  people  in  company.  Ob- 
serve that  man,  say  they,  what  a  pattern  of 
piety  is  he  I  The  church  doors  are  hardly 
open  before  he  rushes  into  liis  seat  with  ea- 
gerness and  transport.  In  approaching  tho 
Lords  table  he  discovers  by  every  look  and 
gesture  a  heart  all  inflamed  with  divine  love. 
When  his  shepherds  were  smitten,  and  the 
sheep  scattered,  the  most  difficult  sacrifices 
became  eas\  to  him.  Country,  family,  titles, 
riches,  he  left  all  with  pleasure  for  the  sake  of 
following  the  bloody  steps  of  Jesus  Clirist  in 
his  sufferings.  He  can  be  reproved  for  no 
more  than  one  little  inadvertence,  that  is,  he 
has  a  levity  of  conversation.  But  what  says 
St.  James  of  this  man,  who  seems  to  have  a 
right  of  precedence  in  a  catalogue  of  saints  ? 
What  does  he  say  of  this  man,  so  diligent  to 
attend  public  worship,  so  fervent  at  the  Lord's 
supper,  so  zealous  for  religion  .''  He  says,  this 
man  has  no  religion  at  all ;  '  If  any  man 
among  you  seem  to  be  religious,  and  bridleth 
not  his  tongue,  this  man's  religion  is  vain/ 
chap.  i.  20. 

But  without  attending  to  all  the  paradoxes 
of  St.  James,  let  us  attend  to  this  in  our  text. 
Here  is  a  principle  that  seems  more  likely  to 
produce  despair  in  our  hearts  than  to  promote 
virtue  ;  a  principle  which  seems  to  aim  at  no 
less  than  t!ie  exclusion  of  the  greatest  saints 


Skb,  XLII.] 


UNIVERSAL  OBEDIENCE. 


571 


on  earth  from  heaven,  and  to  oblige  Moses, 
Elias,  David,  Paul,  and  other  such  eminent 
men  to  exclaim,  'Who  then  can  be  saved!' 
Matt.  xix.  25.  This  principle  is,  that  to  sin 
against  one  article  of  the  divine  laws  is  to 
render  one"s  self  guilty  of  a  breach  of  them 
all.  *  Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole  law, 
and  yet  offend  in  one  point,  he  is  guiltyof  all.' 

That  you  may  the  better  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  our  text,  we  have  three  sorts  of  re- 
flections to  propose  to  you.  By  the  first  we 
intend  to  fix  the  meaning  of  our  apostle's 
proposition,  and  to  clear  it  from  all  obscurity 
Our  second  class  of  reflections  will  be  appli- 
ed to  enforce  the  sense  that  we  shall  give  the 
text.  The  last  will  characterize  those  sin- 
ners who  live  in  this  dreadful  state,  who,  by 
habitually  oftending  in  one  point,  render 
themselves  guilty  of  an  universal  subversion 
of  the  whole  law  of  God ;  and  here  we  shall 
direct  you  how  to  use  the  text  as  a  touch- 
stone to  discover  the  truth  or  falsehood  of 
your  faith,  the  sincerity  or  hypocrisy  of  your 
obedience. 

I.  Let  us  fix  the  sense  of  our  apostle's  pro- 
position, and  for  this  purpose  let  us  answer 
two  questions.  1.  What  kind  of  sin  had  St. 
James  in  view  when  he  said,  '  Whosoever 
shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in 
one  point .-"  2.  How  did  he  mean,  that,  by 
'offending  in  one  point,' the  offender  was 
guilty  of  violating  '  the  whole  law  ?' 

The  meaning  of  the  first  depends  partly  on 
what  precedes  the  text.  The  apostle  had 
been  endeavouring  to  inspire  Christians  with 
charity ;  not  with  that  partial  charity,  which 
inclines  us  to  pity  and  relieve  the  miseries 
of  a  few  distressed  neighbours,  but  with  tiiat 
universal  love,  which  induces  all  the  disci- 
ples of  Christ  to  consider  one  another  as 
brethren,  and  which,  because  all  are  united 
to  God,  unites  all  to  one  another,  and  teach- 
es each  to  consider  all  as  one  compact  body, 
of  which  love  is  the  bond. 

The  apostle  enters  into  this  subject  by  this 
exhortation,  '  My  brethren!  have  not  the 
faith  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  of 
glory,  with  respect  to  persons,'  chap.  ii.  1. 
These  words  are  rather  difficult :  but  one  of 
the  following  senses,  I  think,  must  be  given 
to  them.  ].  Instead  of  translating,  Aa»e  not 
the  faith,  we  may  Tea.d,  judge  not  of  faith  bij 
appearance  of  persons ;  that  is  to  say,  Do 
not  judge  what  faith  Christians  have  in  Je- 
sus Christ,  whom  God  has  elevated  to  the 
highest  glory,  by  the  rank,  which  they  occu- 
py in  civil  society,  by  their  attendants,  and 
equipage,  and  habits.  A  man  who  makes  a 
very  mean  and  contemptible  appearance,  a 
man  all  in  rags,  is  often  a  better  Christian 
than  he  whose  Christianity,  so  to  speak,  is 
all  set  off  with  splendour,  and  grandeur,  and 
fortune. 

Or  rather,  have  not  faith  in  the  Lord  of 
Glory  hij  shoioing  a  partial  regard  for  the 
appearance  of  persons;  that  is  to  say,  Do 
not  imagine  yourselves  believers,  while  you 
regard  the  appearance  of  persons.  Do  not 
imagine,  that  true  faith  is  compatible  with 
that  meanness  of  soul,  which  makes  people 
susceptible  of  very  deep  impressions  of  es- 
teem at  seeing  a  parade  of  human  grandeur ; 
do  not  suppose,  that  the  soul  of  a  good  man 


must  necessarily  prostrate  itself  before  pomp, 
and  annihilate  itself  in  the  presence  of  great 
men;  while  he  turns  with  disdain  from  the  poor 
infinitely  greater  for  their  piety  than  others 
for  their  pomp.  A  Christian  believing  in  Je- 
sus Christ  glorified,  a  Christian  persuaded 
that  Jesus,  his  head,  is  elevated  to  the  high- 
est degree  of  glory,  and  hoping  that  he  shall 
be  shortly  exalted  to  some  degree  with  him ; 
a  Christian,  in  whose  mind  such  ideas  are 
formed,  ought  not  to  entertain  very  high  no- 
tions of  earthly  things,  he  ought  to  esteem 
that  in  man,  which  constitutes  his  real  great- 
ness, that  immortality,  which  is  a  part  of  his 
essence,  those  hopes  of  eternal  glory,  at 
which  he  aspires,  those  efforts,  which  he  is 
making  towards  bearing  the  image  of  his 
Creator  :  such  qualities  deserve  esteem,  and 
not  the  empty  advantages  of  fortune. 

The  apostle,  having  established  this  gene- 
ral maxim,  applies  it  to  a  particular  case ; 
but  there  are  some  difficulties  in  his  manner 
of  stating  the  case,  as  well  as  in  the  maxim 
to  which  he  applies  it.  '  If  there  come  unto 
your  assembly  a  man  with  a  gold  ring,  in 
goodly  apparel,  and  there  come  in  also  a 
poor  man  in  vile  raiment ;  and  ye  have  res- 
pect to  him  that  weareth  the  gay  clothing, 
and  say  unto  him.  Sit  thou  here  in  a  good 
place  ;  and  say  to  the  poor,  Stand  thou  there, 
or  sit  here  under  my  footstool :  Are  ye  not 
then  partial  in  yourselves,  and  are  become 
judges  of  evil  thoughts  ?'  What  assembly 
had  the  apostle  in  view  here  ? 

Some  think,  he  spoke  of  an  assembly  of 
Judges,  and  by  respect,  ov  appearance  of  per- 
sons, a  spirit  of  partiality.  They  say,  these 
words  of  St.  James  are  synonymous  to  those 
of  God  to  Jewish  judges  by  Moses,  '  Thou 
shalt  not  respect  the  person  of  the  poor,  nor 
honour  the  person  of  the  mighty :  but  in 
righteousness  shalt  thou  judge  thy  neigh- 
bour,' Lev.  xix.  1.5.  '  Ye  shall  not  respect 
persons  in  judgment :  but  ye  shall  hear  the 
small  as  well  as  the  great,'  Deut.  i.  16,  17. 
They  confirm  this  opinion  by  quoting  a  canon 
of  the  Jews,  which  enacts,  that  when  two 
persons  of  unequal  rank  appear  together  in 
the  Sanhedrim,  one  shall  not  be  allowed  to  sit, 
while  the  other  stands  ;  but  both  shall  either 
sit  together,  or  stand  together,  to  avoid  every 
shadow  of  partiality. 

But,  perhaps,  our  apostle  spoke  also  of  re- 
ligious assemblies,  and  intended  to  inform 
primitive  Christians,  that  where  the  distinc- 
tions of  princes  and  subjects,  magistrates  and 
people,  were  not  known,  there  the  rich  would 
affect  state,  aspire  to  chief  places,  and  gratify 
their  senseless  vanity  by  placing  the  poor  on 
their  footstools,  in  order  to  make  them  feel 
their  indigence  and  meanness.  However  the 
apostle  might  mean,  whether  he  spoke  of  ju- 
ridical assemblies,  or  of  religious  conven- 
tions ;  of  partial  judgments,  or  of  improper 
distinctions  in  the  church,  it  is  plain,  he  in- 
tended to  preclude  that  veneration,  which, 
in  little  souls,  riches  obtain  for  their  possess- 
ors, and  that  disdain  which  poverty  excites  in. 
such  minds  for  those  whom  providence  has 
exposed  to  it. 

Among  many  reasons,  by  which  he  enfor- 
ces his  exhortation,  that,  which  immediatel}' 
precedes  the  text  is  taken  from  chai-ity,  or 


S12 


THE  NECESSITY  OF 


tScR.  XLIL 


benevolence.  '  If  ye  fulfil  the  royal  law,  ac- 
cording to  the  Scripture,  Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbour  as  thyself,  ye  do  well.  But  if  ye 
have  respect  to  persons,  ye  commit  sin,  and 
are  convinced  of  the  law  as  transgressors.' 
Then  follow  the  words  of  the  text,  '  for  who- 
soever shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  of- 
fend in  one  point,  he  is  guilty  of  all.' 

It  should  seem  at  first,  from  the  connexion 
of  the  text  with  the  preceding  verses,  that 
when  St.  James  says,  '  Whosoever  shall  keep 
the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in  one  point, 
he  is  guilty  of  all,'  he  means,  by  this  one 
point,  benevolence.  However,  I  cannot  think 
the  meaning  of  St.  James  ought  to  be  thus 
restricted,  I  rather  suppose,  that  he  took  oc- 
casion from  a  particular  subject  to  establish  a 
general  maxim,  that  includes  all  sins,  which 
come  under  the  same  description  with  that  of 
which  he  was  speaking.  On  this  account, 
after  he  has  said,  '  Whosoever  shall  keep  the 
whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in  one  point,  he  is 
guilty  of  all,'  he  adds,  '  for  he  that  said.  Do 
not  commit  adultery,  said  also.  Do  not  kill; 
he  adds  another  example  beside  that  of  whicli 
he  had  been  speaking.  Consequently,  he 
intended  not  only  to  speak  of  violation  of  the 
precepts  of  love ;  but  also  of  all  others, 
which  had  the  same  characters. 

But  in  what  light  does  he  place  this  viola- 
tion of  the  precept  of  love  .'  He  considers  it 
as  a  sin  committed  with  full  consent,  prece- 
ded by  a  judgment  of  the  mind,  accompanied 
with  mature  deliberation,  and,  to  a  certain 
degree,  approved  by  him  who  commits  it. 
All  these  ideas  are  contained  in  these  words, 
'  Ye  have  respect  to  persons,  ye  are  partial  in 
yourselves,  ye  are  judges  of  evil  thoughts, 
ye  have  despised  the  poor.'  What  the  apos- 
tle affirms  of  love  in  particular,  lie  affirms  of 
all  sins  committed  with  the  same  dispositions. 
Every  sin  committed  with  full  consent,  pre- 
ceded by  a  judgment  of  the  mind,  accompa- 
nied with  mature  deliberation  ;  every  sin  that 
conscience  is  made  to  approve  during  the 
commission  of  it ;  every  such  sin  is  included 
in  this  maxim  of  our  apostle,  'whosoever 
shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in 
one  point,  he  is  guilty  of  all.' 

In  this  manner  divest  the  text  of  one  vague 
jiotion,  to  which  it  may  seem  to  have  given 
occasion.  We  acquit  the  apostle  of  the 
charge  of  preaching  a  melancholy,  cruel  mo- 
rality, and  we  affirm,  for  the  comfort  of  weak 
and  timorous  minds,  that  we  ought  not  to 
place  among  the  sins  here  intended,  either 
momentary  faults,  daily  frailties,  or  involmi- 
tary  passions. 

1 .  By  daily  frailties  I  mean  those  imper- 
fections of  piety,  which  are  inseparable  from 
the  conditions  of  inhabitants  of  this  world, 
wJiich  mix  themselves  with  the  virtues  of  the 
most  eminent  saints,  and  which  even  in  the 
highest  exercises  of  the  most  fervid  piety, 
make  them  feel  that  they  are  men,  and  that 
they  are  sinful  men.  By  daily  frailties  I 
mean  wanderings  in  prayer,  troublesome  in- 
trusions of  sensible  objects,  low  exercises  of 
self-love,  and  many  other  infirmities,  of  which 
you,  my  dear  brethren,  have  had  too  many 
examples  in  3'our  own  lives  in  time  past,  and 
yet  have  too  much  experience  in  the  tempers 
of  vour  hearts  every  dav.     Infirmities  of  this 


kind  do  not  answer  the  black  description 
which  St.  James  gives  of  the  offence  men- 
tioned in  the  text.  A  good  man,  who  is  sub- 
ject to  these  frailties,  far  from  approving  tho 
sad  necessity,  that  carries  him  off  from  his 
duty,  deplores  it.  In  him  they  are  not  con- 
clusions from  principles,  laid  down  with  full 
consent ;  they  are  sad  effects  of  that  imper- 
fection, which  God  had  thought  proper  to 
leave  in  our  knowledge  and  holiness,  and 
which  will  remain  as  long  as  we  continue  to 
languish  life  away  in  this  valley  of  tears.  To 
say  all  in  one  word,  they  are  rather  an  imper- 
fection essential  to  nature,  than  a  direct  vio- 
lation of  the  law. 

2.  We  ought  not  to  number  momentanj 
faults  among  the  offences,  of  which  it  ia 
said,  Whosoever  commits  one  is  guilty  of  a  vi- 
olation of  the  whole  law.  Where  is  the  re- 
generate man,  where  is  the  saint,  where  is 
the  saint  of  the  highest  order,  who  can  assure 
himself,  he  shall  never  fall  into  some  sins  ? 
Where  is  the  faith  so  firm  as  to  promise  ne- 
ver to  tremble  at  the  sight  of  racks,  stakes, 
and  gibbets  ?  Where  is  that  Christian  hero- 
ism, which  can  render  a  man  invulnerable  to 
some  fiery  darts,  with  which  the  enemy  of  our 
salvation  sometimes  assaults  us ;  and  (what 
is  still  more  unattainable  by  human  firm- 
ness), where  is  that  Christian  heroism  which 
can  render  a  man  invulnerable  to  some  darts 
of  voluptuousness,  which  strike  the  tenderest 
parts  of  nature,  and  excite  those  passions 
which  are  at  the  same  time  the  most  tur- 
bulent and  the  most  agreeable  ?  A  believ- 
er falls  into  such  sins  only  in  those  sad 
moments  in  which  he  is  surprised  unawares, 
and  in  which  he  loses  in  a  manner  the  pow- 
er of  reflecting  and  thinking.  If  there  re- 
main any  liberty  of  judgment  amidst  the 
frenzy,  he  employs  it  to  recall  his  reason^ 
which  is  fleeing ;  and  to  arouse  his  virtue, 
that  sleeps  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts.  All 
chained  as  he  is  by  the  enemy,  he  makes 
eftbits,  weak  indeed,  but  yet  earnest,  to  dis- 
engage himself.  The  pleasures  of  sin,  even 
when  he  most  enjoj's  them,  and  while  he  sa- 
crifices his  piety  and  innocence  to  them,  are 
embittered  by  the  inward  remorse  that  rises 
in  his  regenerate  soul.  While  he  delivers 
himself  up  to  the  temptation  and  the  tempter, 
he  complains,  '  O  wretched  man  that  I  am  ! 
who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death  ?'  Rom.  vii.  24.  When  the  charm  has 
spent  its  force,  when  his  fascinated  eyes  re- 
cover their  sight,  and  he  sees  objects  again 
in  their  true  point  of  light,  then  conscience 
reclaims  its  rights  ;  then  he  detests  what  he 
just  before  admired  ;  then  the  cause  of  his 
joy  becomes  the  cause  of  his  sorrow  and  ter- 
ror ;  and  he  prefers  the  pain,  anguish,  and 
torture  of  repentance,  before  the  most  allu- 
ring attractives  of  sin. 

3.  We  will  venture  one  stop  farther.  We 
affirm,  that  gusts  of  involuntarij  passions 
ought  not  to  be  included  in  the  number  of  sins 
of  whicii  St.  James  says, '  Whosoever  offend- 
eth  in  one  point,  he  is  guilty  of  all.'  God 
places  us  in  this  world  as  in  a  state  of  trial. 
We  are  all  born  with  some  passions,  which  it 
is  our  duty  to  attack,  and  mortify ;  but  from 
which  we  shall  never  be  able  to  free  our- 
selves entirelv.    The  soul  of  one  is  imited  to 


Sek.  XLII.] 


UNIVERSAL  OBEDIENCE. 


373 


a  body,  naturally  so  modified  as  to  incline 
him  to  voluptuousness.  Another  soul  has 
dispositions  naturally  inclining  it  to  avarice, 
pride,  envy,  or  jealousy.  It  is  in  our  power 
to  resist  these  passions  ;  hut  to  have,  or  not 
to  have  them  when  we  come  into  the  world, 
does  not  depend  on  us.  We  nujiht  not  always 
to  ]ud.e  of  our  state  by  the  enemy,  whom 
we  have  to  encounter :  but  by  the  vigilance 
v.'ith  wliich  we  resist  him.  In  spite  of  some 
remains  of  inclination  to  pride,  we  may  be- 
come liunjble,  if  we  endeavour  sincerely  and 
heartily  to  become  so.  In  spite  of  natural 
inclinations  to  avarice,  we  may  become  gene- 
rous by  endeavouriner  to  become  so,  and  soot 
the  rest.  Involuntary  passions,  when  we 
zealously  endeavour  to  restrain  them,  ought 
to  be  considered  as  exercises  of  our  virtue 
prescribed  by  our  Creator;  and  not  as  crimi- 
nal effects  of  the  obstinacy  of  tlie  creature. 

The  sins,  into  a  commission  of  which  they 
beguile  us,  ou^ht  always  to  humble  us;  in- 
deed they  would  involve  us  in  eternal  misery, 
were  we  not  recovered  by  repentance  after 
having  fallen  into  them :  but  neitlier  they, 
nor  transient  offences,  nor  daily  frailties, 
ougiit  to  be  reckoned  among  those  sins,  of 
which  St.  James  says,  '  he  who  offendeth  in 
one  point,  is  guilty  of  all.'  The  sins  of  which 
the  apostle  speaks,  are  preceded  by  the  judg- 
ment of  the  mind,  accciupanied  with  mature 
deliberation,  and  approved  by  conscience. 
Tiuis  we  have  divested  the  text  of  one  vague 
meaning  to  whicfh  it  may  seem  to  have  given 
occtision. 

But  in   what  sense  may  it  be  affirmed  of 
any  sin,  that  'he  who  offuiidelh  in  one  point, 
is  guilty  of  all  ?'     The  nature  of  the  subject 
must  answer  this  sec  'iid  question,  and  enable 
us  to  reject  the  false  senses,  that  are  given  to 
the  projjosition  of  our  apostle.      It  is  plain,  I 
St.    James    neither    meant    to   establish    an  ' 
equality  of  sins,  nor  an  equality  of  punish-  j 
ments.     It  is  evident,  that  as  sins  are  une-  ' 
qual  among  men,  so  justice  requiies  an  ine-  } 
quality  ol  punishment.     Tiie  man  who  adds 
murder  to  hatred,  is  certainly    more   guilty  j 
than  he  who  restrains  his  hatred,  and  trem-  j 
bles  at  a  thought  of  murder.     He  whose  ha-  : 
tred  knows  no  bounds,  and  who  endeavours 
to  assuage  it  with  nsurder,  will  certainly  be  | 
punished  more  rigorously  than  the  former.      | 

What,  then,  was  tlie  apostle's  nieaning .'' 
He  probably  had  two  views,  a  particular  and 
a  general  view.  The  particular  design 
might  regard  tiie  theological  system  of  some 
Jews,  and  the  general  design  might  regard 
the  moral  system  of  too  many  Christians. 

Some  Jews,  soon  after  the  apostle's  time, 
and  very  likely  in  his  days,"  aftirmed,  that 
God  gave  a  great  man}'  precepts  to  men,  not 
that  he  intended  to  oblige  them  to  the  observ- 
ance of  all,  but  that  they  might  have  an  op- 
portunity of  obtaining  salvation,  by  observing 
any  one  of  them  ;  and  it  was  one  of  their 
maxims,  that  he  who  diligently  kept  one  com- 
mand, was  therebv  treed  from  tlie  necessity 
of  observing  the  rest.  Agreeable  to  this  no 
tion,  a  famous  Kabbit  exp  >unds  these  word 
in  Hosea,  '  Take  away  all  iniquity,  and  give 
good,'  that  is,  according  to  the  false  notion  o 


*See  \".  hitby  on  James  ii.  9. 
t  Kiinclu  on  Ilui.  xiv.  -2.  Marg. 


3  B 


our  expositor,  pardon  our  sins,  and  accept  our 
zeal  for  one  precept  of  thy  law.  What  is 
still  more  remarkable,  when  the  Jews  choose 
a  precept,  they  usually  choose  one  that  gives 
the  least  check  to  their  favourite  passions, 
and  one  the  least  essential  to  religion,  aa 
some  ceremonial  precept.  This,  perhaps,  is 
what  Jesus  Christ  reproves  in  the  Pharisees 
and  scribes  of  his  time,  '  Wo  unto  you, 
scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites;  for  ye  paj 
tithe  of  mint,  and  anise,  and  cummin,  and 
have  omitted  the  weightier  matters  of  the 
law.  judgment,  mercy,  and  faith;  these  ought 
ye  lo  have  done,  and  not  to  leave  the  otiier 
undone.'  Matt,  xxiii.  2'.\.  Perhaps  these  words 
of  our  Saviour  may  be  parallel  to  those  of 
St.  James.  The  apostle  had  been  recom- 
mending luve,  and  at  length  ho  tells  the 
Jews,  who,  in  the  style  of  Jesus  Christ, 
'  omitted  mercv,'  that  '  whosoever'  should 
'  k«ep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in  this 
one  point,  would  be  guilty  of  all.' 

But,  as  we  observed  just  now,  St.  James 
did  not  intend  to  restrain  what  he  said  to 
love.  If  lie  had  a  particular  view  to  the  the- 
ological system  of  soi7ie  Jews,  he  had  also  a 
general  view  to  the  morality  of  many  Chris- 
tians, whose  ideas  of  devotion  are  too  con- 
tracted. He  informs  them,  that  a  virtue,  ia- 
coinplete  in  its  parts,  cannot  be  a  true  virtue. 
He  affirms,  that  he  who  resolves,  in  his  own 
mind  to  sin,  and  who  forces  his  conscience  to 
approve  vice  whih;  he  commits  it,  cannot  in 
this  manner  violate  one  single  article  of  the 
law  without  enervating  the  whole  of  it.  A 
man  cannot  be  truly  chaste  without  being 
humble,  nor  can  he  be  truly  humble  without 
being  chaste.  For  the  same  reason,  no  man 
can  deliberately  violate  the  law  that  forbids 
anger,  without  violating  that  which  forbids 
avarice  ;  nor  can  any  man  violate  the  law 
which  forbids  extortion,  without  violating  that 
which  forbids  impurity.  All  virtues  are  natu- 
rally united  together,  and  mutually  support 
one  another.  The  establishment  of  one  un- 
just maxim  authorizes  all  unjust  maxims, 
Tliis  is  the  meaning  of  the  proposition  in  oar 
text,  'Whosoever  oiFendeth  in  one  point  is 
guilty  of  all.' 

Hitherto  we  have  only  explained  the  sense 
of  our  text ;  it  remains  now  to  be  proved. 
The  proposition  of  our  apostle  is  founded  on 
three  principal  reasons.  Pie  who  sins  in  the 
manner  now  described ;  he  whose  mind  re- 
solves to  sin,  and  who  forces  his  conscience 
to  approve  vice,  while  ho  commits  it,  sins 
against  all  the  precepts  of  tlie  law,  while  he 
seems  to  sin  against  only  one.  1.  Because 
he  subverts,  as  far  as  he  can,  the  foundation 
of  the  law.  2.  Because,  although  he  may 
not  actually  violate  all  the  articles  of  the 
law,  yet  heviolates  them  virtually;  I  mean 
to  say,  his  principles  lead  to  an  actual  viola- 
tion of  all  the  precepts  of  the  law.  3.  Be- 
cause we  may  presume,  he  who  violates  the 
law  virtually,  will  actually  violate  it  when  it 
:uits  him  to  do  so.  These  three  reasons  esta- 
■lish  the  truth  of  our  apostle's  proposition, 
ind  justify  the  sense  that  we  have  given  it. 
i'he  discussion  of  these  three  reasons  will  be 
A\c  second  part  of  our  discourse. 

II.  He  who  violates  one  precept  of  the  law, 
in  the  manner  just  now  described,  violates 


374 


THE  NECESSITY  OF 


[Ser.  XLIl. 


all ;  because,  first,  iie  subverts,  as  far  as  in  i 
him  lies,  the  ver)'  foundation  of  the  law. 
This  will  clearly  appear  by  a  comparison  of 
vice  with  error,  heresy  with  disobedience. 
There  are  two  sorts  of  errors  and  heresies  ; 
there  are  some  errors  whicli  do  not  subvert 
the  foundation  of  faith,  and  there  are  other 
errors  that  do  subvert  it.  If,  after  1  have  ho- 
nestly and  diligently  endeavoured  to  under- 
stand a  passatre  of  Scripture  proceedinsr  from 
the  mouth  of  God,  1  give  it  a  sense  different 
from  that  which  is  the  true  meaning  of  it  ;  if 
I  give  it  this  sense,  not  because  I  dispute  the 
authority  of  an  infallible  God,  but  because  I 
cannot  perceive  that  it  ought  to  be  taken  in 
any  other  sense  than  that  in  wliich  I  under- 
stand it,  I  am  indeed  in  an  error,  but  by  fall- 
ing into  this  error  I  do  not  subvert  the  founda- 
tion on  which  my  faith  is  built.  I  always 
suppose  the  authority  and  infallibility  of  God, 
and  I  am  ready  to  renounce  my  error  as  soon 
as  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  contrary  to  divine 
revelation. 

But  if,  after  it  has  been  made  to  appear 
with  irrefragatile  evidence,  that  my  error  is 
contrary  to  divine  revelation,  and  if,  moreo- 
ver, after  it  has  been  made  to  appear  thai  re- 
velation came  from  God.  I  persist  in  my 
error,  then,  by  sinning  against  '  one  point,' 
I  become  '  guilty  of  all,"  because,  by  denying 
one  single  proposition  of  revelation,  I  deny 
that  foundation  on  which  all  other  proposi- 
tions of  revelation  are  built,  that  is,  the  infal- 
libility and  veracitj'  ol  that  G.-d  who  speaks 
in  our  Scriptures.  I  put  in  the  place  of  God 
my  reason,  my  wisdo?n,  my  tutor,  my  minis- 
ter, whomever  or  whatever  determines  me  to 
prefer  my  error  before  that  truth,  which  I  am 
convinced  is  clearly  revealed  in  a  book  that 
came  from  heaven. 

In  like  manner,  there  are  two  sorts  of  vi- 
ces, some  which  do  not  subvert  the  founda- 
tion of  our  obedience  to  the  laws  f)f  God,  and 
others  that  do.  In  the  first  class  are  those 
sins  which  we  have  pnumerated,  daily  infir- 
mities, transient  faults,  and  involuntary  pas- 
sions. In  the  second  class  ought  to  be  placed 
those  sins  of  deliberation  and  reflection,  of 
which  we  just  now  spoke,  and  wliich  our 
apostle  had  in  view.  Tiiese  sins  strike  at  the 
foundation  of  obedience  to  the  lav/s  of  God. 

What  is  the  ground  of  obedience  to  the 
divine  laws.'  When  God  gives  us  laws,  he 
may  be  considered  under  either  of  three  rela- 
tions, or  under  all  the  three  together ;  as  a 
sovereign,  as  a  legislator,  as  a  father.  Our 
obedience  to  God,  considered  as  a  sovereign, 
is  founded  on  his  infinite  authority  over  us, 
and  in  our  obligation  to  an  entire  and  un- 
reserved submission  to  him.  Our  obedi 
ence  to  God  as  a  legislator  is  founded  on  his 
perfect  equity.  Our  obedience  to  God  as  a 
father  is  founded  on  Ihe  certain  advanta- 
ges which  they  who  obey  his  lavi's  derive 
Jrom  them,  and  on  a  clear  evidence  that  be- 
cause he  ordains  them,  they  must  be  essential 
to  our  happiness.  Now  he  who  sins  coolly 
and  deliberately  against  one  single  article. 
saps  these  three  foundations  of  the  law.  He 
is,  therefore,  guilty  of  a  violation  of  the  whole 
law. 

He  saps  the  foundation  of  that  obedience 
■\7hich  is  due  to  God,  considered  as  a  master, 


if  he  imagine  he  may  make  any  reserve  in 
his  obedience ;  if  he  says,  I  will  submit  to 
God,  if  he  command  me  to  be  humble,  but 
not  if  he  command  me  to  be  chaste ;  and  so 
on.  He  saps  the  foundation  of  that  obedi- 
ence which  is  due  to  God,  considered  as  a 
lawoiver,  if  he  imagines  God  is  just  in  giving 
such  and  such  a  law,  but  not  in  prescribing 
such  and  such  other  laws;  if  he  supposes 
God  is  just  when  he  appoints  him  to  educate 
and  provide  for  an  only  son,  but  that  he  ceas- 
es to  do  riglit  when  he  commands  him  to  sa- 
crifice him,  addressing  him  in  this  terrifying 
style,  '  Take  now  thy  son,  and  offer  him  for  a 
burnt-offering  upon  one  of  the  mountains 
whicli  I  will  tell  thee  of,'  Gen.  xxii.  2.  He 
subverts  the  foundation  of  obedience  to  God 
as  a  father,  if  he  supposes  that  God  has  our 
happiness  in  view  in  requiring  us  to  renounce 
some  passions,  but  that  he  goes  contrary  to 
our  interests  by  requiring  us  to  sacrifice  some 
other  passions,  V'hich  we  may  suppose  can 
never  be  sacrificed  without  sacrificing  at  the 
same  time  his  pleasure  and  felicity. 

He  wlio  sins  in  this  manner,  attributes  to 
the  objects  which  induce  him  to  sin,  excel- 
lencies that  can  be  in  none  but  the  Creator. 
He  says,  it  is  net  God  who  is  my  master,  ray 
sovereign  :  it  is  the  world,  it  is  my  company, 
it  is  my  custom.  He  says,  it  is  not  God  who 
is  just:  justice  is  the  property  of  my  pas- 
sions, my  anger,  my  vengeance.  He  says, 
it  is  not  God  who  is  the  source  of  my  true 
happiness:  it  is  my  gold,  my  silver,  my  pa- 
lace, my  equipage,  my  Delilah,  my  Dru- 
silla.  "To  '  ofF.nd  in  one  point,'  in  thie 
senpe,  is  to  be  '  guilty  of  all ;'  because  it  sub- 
verts the  foundation  on  u'hich  our  obedience 
is  built.  -And  this  reason  is  emphatically  as- 
signed by  St.  James,  in  the  verses  that  follow 
the  text,  '  Whosoever  shall  keep  the  whole 
law,  and  yet  offend  in  one  point,  he  is  guilty 
of  all ;  for,'  adds  the  apostle,  '  he  that  said, 
Do  not  commit  adulter}',  said  also,  Do  not 
kill.  Now  if  thou  commit  no  adultery,  yet  if 
tiiou  kill,  thou  art  become  a  transgressor  of 
the  law  ' 

2.  The  man  who  offends  in  the  manner  we 
have  described,  he  who  in  his  mind  resolves 
to  sin,  and  endeavours  to  force  his  conscience 
to  approve  of  vice  while  he  commits  it,  breaks 
all  the  precepts  of  the  law,  because,  whether 
he  do  actually  break  them  or  not,  he  breaks 
them  virtually,  and  intentionally.  He  vio- 
lates precepts  of  generosity,  but  he  does  not 
I  fall  into  debauchery.  Why  ?  Is  it  because  he 
respects  the  divine  laws  which  prohibit  de- 
!  baucher}^  ?  No,  but  because,  not  being  alike 
I  inclined  to  both  these  vices,  he  enjoys  less 
!  pleasure  in  excess  than  in  avarice.  Could  he 
find  as  much  pleasure  in  violating  the  laws 
that  prohibit  excesses,  as  he  finds  in  violating 
those  which  forbid  avarice,  then  the  same 
principle  that  impels  him  now  to  an  incessant, 
immoderiite  love  of  gain,  would  impel  him  to 
drown  his  reason  in  wine,  and  to  plunge 
himself  into  all  excesses.  B}'  violating,  theri. 
laws  commanding-  generosity,  he  violates,  it 
not  actually,  yet  virtually,  laws  prohibiting 
debauchery.  What  keeps  him  from  violating 
the  laws  that  forbid  clamour  and  dissipation, 
is  not  respect  for  that  God  who  commands 
recollection,  retreat,   and    silence :    but   he 


Ser.XLII.] 


UNIVERSAL  OBEDIENCE. 


375 


affects  these,  because  he  has  less  aversion  to 
retirement  and  silence,  than  he  has  to  noise, 
clamour  and  dissipation.  Had  he  as  much 
dislike  of  the  first  as  he  has  of  the  last,  then 
the  same  principle  that  now  induces  him  to 
be  always  alone,  always  either  inaccessible 
or  mortise,  would  induce  him  to  be  always 
abroad,  always  avoiding  a  sight  of  himself,  by 
fleeing  from  company  to  company,  from  one 
dissipation  to  another.  As,  therefore,  he  does 
not  obey  the  law  that  enjoins  silence  by  his 
perpetual  solitude,  so  he  virtually  annihilates 
the  law  that  forbids  dissipation  ;  and  here 
again  to  offend  '  in  one  point'  is  to  be  '  guilty 
of  all.' 

In  fine,  he  who  offends  in  the  manner  that  we 
liave  explained,  he  whose  mind  determines  to 
sin,  and  who  endeavors  to  force  his  conscience 
to  approve  his  practice,  sins  against  all  the 
precepts  of  tlie  law,  while  he  seems  to  offend 
only  in  one  point,  because  there  is  sufficient 
reason  to  believe  he  will  some  time  or  other 
actually  break  those  laws,  which  now  he 
breaks  only  intentionally  Here,  my  brethren, 
I  wish  each  oi'you  would  recollect  the  morti- 
fying history  of  his  own  life  and  reflect  seri- 
ously on  those  passions  which  successively 
took  place  in  you.  and  which  by  turns  exer- 
cise their  terrible  dominion  over  all  them  who 
are  not  entirely  devoted  to  universal  obe- 
dience. What  proceeds  only  from  a  cliange 
of  circumstances,  we  readily  take  for  a  refor- 
mation of  manners ;  and  we  often  fancy  we 
have  made  a  great  progress  in  holiness,  when 
we  have  renounced  one  vice,  although  we 
have  only  laid  aside  this  one  to  make  room 
for  another  that  seemed  opposite  to  it,  but 
which  was  a  natural  consequence  of  the  first. 
What  elevates  you  to-day  into  excesses  of 
ungoverned  joy,  is  your  excessive  love  of 
pleasure.  Now,  it  is  natural  to  suppose  this 
excessive  love  of  pleasure  which  elevates  you 
into  immoderate  joy,  now  that  the  objects  of 
your  pleasure  are  within  your  reach,  will 
plunge  you  into  depths  of  melancholy  and 
despair,  when  you  are  deprived  of  those  ob- 
jects. That  which  induces  you  to-day  to 
slumber  in  carnal  security,  is  your  inability 
to  resist  the  first  impressions  of  certain  ob- 
jects ;  but,  if  you  know  not  how  to  resist  to- 
day the  impressions  of  such  objects  as  lull 
you  into  security,  you  will  not  know  how  to 
resist  to-morrow  the  impressions  of  other  ob- 
jects which  will  drive  you  to  despair ;  and  so 
this  very  principle  of  non-resistance,  if  I  may 
so  call  it,  which  makes  you  quiet  to-day,  will 
make  you  desperate  to-morrow.  There  is  no 
greater  security  for  our  not  falling  into  one 
vice,  than  our  actual  abstinence  from  another 
vice.  There  is  no  better  evidence  that  we 
shall  not  practice  the  sins  of  old  men,  than 
our  not  committing  the  sins  of  youth.  Pro- 
digality is  the  vice  of  youth,  and  not  to  be 
proluse  in  youtli  is  the  best  security  tliat  we 
shall  not  in  declining  life  fall  into  avarice,  the 
vice  of  old  age.  May  one  principle  animate 
all  your  actions,  a  principle  of  obedience  to 
the  laws  of  God  !  then  what  keeps  you  from 
haughtiness,  will  _  preserve  you  from  mean- 
ness ;  what  saves  you  from  the  seduction  of 
pleasure,  will  preserve  you  from  sinking  un- 
der pain ;  what  keeps  you  from  inordinate 
love  to  an  only  son,  while  it  pleased  God  to 


spare  him,  will  keep  you  from  immoderate 
disquietude,  when  God  thinks  proper  to  take 
him  away.  But  a  man,  who  deliberately 
'  offends  in  one  point,'  not  only  offends  inten- 
tionally against  all  the  articles  of  the  law : 
but,  it  is  highly  probable,  he  will  actually  vi- 
olate all  articles  one  after  another  ;  because, 
when  universal  esteem  tor  all  the  laws  of  God 
is  not  laid  down  as  the  grand  principle  of  re- 
ligious action,  the  passions  are  not  corrected, 
they  are  only  deranged,  one  put  in  the  place 
of  anotlier  ;  and  nothing  more  is  necessary 
to  complete  actual,  universal  wickedness, 
than  a  change  of  vices  with  a  change  of  cir- 
cumstances. 

All  this  is  yet  too  vague.  We  have,  indeed, 
endeavoured  to  explain,  and  to  prove  the  pro- 
position of  our  apostle  ;  but  unless  we  enter 
into  a  more  minute  detail,  we  «hall  derive 
very  little  advantage  from  this  discourse. 
Those  of  our  auditors  who  have  most  reason 
to  number  themselves  with  such  as  sin  delib- 
erately, will  put  themselves  in  the  opposite 
class.  The  most  abandoned  sinners  will  call 
their  own  crimes  either  daily  frailties,  or 
transient  faults,  or  involuntary  passions.  We 
must,  if  it  be  possible,  take  away  this  pretext 
of  depravity,  and  characterize  those  sins 
which  we  have  named  sins  of  rffevtiun,  de- 
liberation, and  approhaiion  ;  sins  which  place 
hiin  who  commits  them  precisely  in  the  state 
intended  by  our  apostle  ;  '  he  offends  in  one 
point,'  and  his  disposition  to  do  so  renders 
him  guilty  of  total  and  universal  disobedience. 
This  is  our  third  part,  and  the  conclusion  of 
this  discourse. 

HI  St.  James  pronounces  in  our  text  a 
sentence  of  condemnation  against  three  sorts 
of  sinners.  1.  Against  sucJi  as  are  engaged 
in  a  way  of  life  sinful  of  itself.  2.  Against 
such  as  cherish  a  favourite  passion.  3.  Against 
persons  of  unteacliuble  dispositions. 

] .  They  who  are  engaged  in  a  way  of  life 
sinful  of  itself ,  are  guilty  of  a  violation  of  the 
whole  law,  while  they  seem  to  offend  only  in, 
one  point. 

We  every  day  hear  merchants  and  traders 
ingenuously  confess,  that  their  business  can- 
not succeed  unless  they  defraud  the  govern- 
ment. We  will  not  examine  whether  their 
assertion  be  true  ;  we  will  suppose  it  to  be  as 
they  say  ;  and  we  athrm,  that  a  trade  which 
necessaiily  obliges  a  man  to  violate  a  law  so 
express  as  that  of  pa}ang  tribute  to  govern- 
ment, is  bad  of  itself.  That  disposition  of 
mind  which  induces  a  man  to  follow  it,  ought 
not  to  be  ranked  either  with  those  human 
frailties,  transient  faults,  or  involuntary  pas- 
sions, which  we  have  enumerated,  and  for 
which  evangelical  abatements  are  reserved. 
This  is  a  blow  struck  at  legislative  authority. 
What,  then,  ought  a  merchant  to  do,  who  is 
engaged  in  a  commerce  which  necessarily 
obliges  him  to  violate  a  law  of  the  state  con- 
cerning impost  ?  He  ought  to  give  up  this 
commerce,  and  to  quit  a  way  of  hving  which 
he  knows  is  iniquitous  in  itself  If  he  cannot 
prevail  with  liimsclf  to  make  this  sacrifice,  all 
his  hopes  of  being  saved  are  fallacious. 

We  eveiy  day  hear  military  men  affirm, 
that  it  is  impossible  to  wear  a  sword  with  ho- 
nour, without  professing  to  be  always  dispos 
ed  to  revenge,  and  to  violate  all  laws  human 


J76 


THE  NECESSITY  OF 


[Ser.  XLn. 


and  divine  which  forbid  duelling.  We  do  not 
inquire  the  truth  of  the  assertion,  we  suppose 
it  true.  We  do  not  examine,  whether  pru- 
dence could  not  in  all  cases  sujrirest  proper 
means  to  free  men  from  a  tyranni';al  point  of 
honour  ;  or  wliether  there  really  be  nny  cases, 
in  which  gentlemen  are  indispensably  obli;red, 
either  to  qtiit  tlie  army,  or  toviol.ite  tiie  pre- 
cepts that  command  us  to  give  up  a  sj)irit  of 
resentment.  We  only  affirm,  that  a  njililary 
man,  who  constantly  and  deliber-itely  har- 
bours a  design  of  always  avenging  hiiiiselt  in 
certain  cases  is  in  this  miserable  list  of  sin- 
ners, who,  by  offending  in  '  one  point,"  are 
'  guilty  of  all.'  We  do  not  affirm,  that  he 
Would  be  in  this  guilty  condition,  if  he  could 
not  promise  to  resist  a  disposition  to  revenge 
in  eveiy  future  moment  of  his  life  ;  we  only 
affirm  that  he  is  guilty  of  a  violation  of  the 
whole  law,  if  he  do  not  sincerely  and  upriirlit- 
ly  resolve  to  resist  this  inclination.  You  can- 
not be  a  Christian  without  having  a  fixed 
resolution  to  seal  the  truths  of  the  gospel  with 
your  blood,  if  it  ple.ase  Providence  to  call  you 
to  martyrdom.  You  cannot,  however,  promise, 
that  the  sight  of  racks  and  stakes  shall  never 
shake  your  resolution,  nerever  induce  you  to 
violate  your  sincere  determination  to  die  for 
religion  if  it  should  please  Providence  to  ex- 
pose you  to  death  on  account  of  it.  It  is  suf- 
ficient for  the  tranquillity  of  your  conscience, 
that  you  have  formed  a  resolution  to  sutf,;r 
rather  than  deny  the  faith.  In  hke  inanner, 
we  do  not  affirm,  that  a  military  man  is  guilty 
of  the  offence  with  Mhich  we  have  charged 
liim,  if  he  cannot  engage  never  to  be  carried 
away  with  an  excess  of  passion  inclining  him 
tt)  revenge;,  we  only  s.ay,  if  he  cooly  deter- 
mine always  to  revenge  himself  in  certain 
cases,  he  directly  attacks  the  authority  of  the 
lawgiver.  '  He  offendeth  in  one  point,  and 
he  is  guilty  of  all.'  If  a  man  cannot  profess 
to  bear  arms  without  harbouring  a  fixed  in- 
tention of  violating  all  laws  human  and  divine, 
that  prohibit  duelling,  even  to  those  who  re- 
ceive the  most  cruel  affronts,  either  the  pro- 
fe.ssion  of  arms  or  the  hope  of  salvation  must 
be  given  up.  No  man  in  the  army  can  assure 
himself  that  he  is  in  a  state  of  grace,  unless 
hia  conscience  attests,  that  he  will  avoid, 
■with  all  possible  circumspection,  every  c  ise 
in  which  a  tyrannical  point  of  honour  renders 
revenge  necessary  ;  and  that,  if  ever  he  be,  in 
spite  of  all  his  precautions,  in  such  a  case, 
when  he  must  either  resign  his  military  em- 
ployments, or  violate  tlie  laws  that  forbid  re- 
venge, he  will  obey  the  law,  and  resign  his 
military  honours. 

It  is  too  often  seen,  that  our  relation  to 
&ome  offenders  inspires  us  with  induhrence 
for  their  offences.  This  kind  of  temptation 
is  never  more  difficult  to  surmount  than  when 
we  are  called  to  bear  a  faitliful  testimony 
concerning  the  state  of  our  bretiirim,  who  re- 
fuse to  sacrifice  their  fortune  and  their  coun- 
try to  religion  and  a  good  conscience.  Bui 
"what  relation  is  so  near  as  to  preoccupy  our 
nhnds  to  such  n  degree  as  to  prevent  our  con 
Eidering  the  life  of  such  a  person,  as  it  really 
is,  bad  in  itself;  or  vi  hat  pretext  can  be  pliu 
Bible  enough  to  authorize  it  t  We  have 
sounded  in  their  ears  a  tliousand  times  these 
thundering  words  of  the  ison  of  God,  '  Who- 


ever shall  be  ashamed  of  me  and  of  my  words, 
of  him  shall  the  Son  of  man  be  ashamed, 
whc;)  he  shall  come  in  his  own  glory,  and  in 
his  Father's,  and  of  the  holy  angels,'  Luke  ix. 
v;6.  '  He  that  loveth  father  or  m'.lher.  son  or 
daughter,'  and,  we  may  add.  he  that  loves 
houses  or  lands,  ease,  riclies,  or  honours, 
'  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  ine.'  iiVlatt. 
X.  37.  We  have  su  moned  thein  by  the 
sacr  d  promises  and  sole:iin  en 'ageMiPnts, 
I  which  some  of  i  hem  hiv  entered  into  at  the 
i  table  of  the  Lord  while  they  partook  of  the 
j  signifiennt  symbols  of  the  body  and  blo^d  of 
I  the  Saviour,  to  devote  them>eivHS  to  the  glory 
of  Gild,  and  the  edification  of  his  church.  We 
have  unveiled  their  hearts,  and  shown  them 
how  the  artfulness  of  their  injienious  pas- 
sions exculpated  their  conduct,  by  putting 
specious  pretexts  in  the  place  of  solid  rea- 
sons We  have  reproved  them  for  pretend- 
ing, that  they  dare  not  face  the  danger  of  at- 
tenjpting  to  flee,  when  the  irovernment  for- 
bade their  quitting  the  kingdom  ;  and  now 
1  berty  is  granted,  f  >r  making  that  a  reason 
for  staying.  We  have  described  the  numer- 
ous advantages  of  public  worship  ;  we  hive 
proved,  that  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  is, 
it  I  may  speak  so,  the  f  .od  of  Christian  vir- 
tues; and  that,  when  people  have  accustom- 
ed themselves  to  live  v.'ithout  the  public  ex- 
ercises of  relig  on,  they  insensibly  1  se  that 
delicacy  of  consci;.>nce,  without  which  they 
cannot  either  be  good  hr^stians,  or,  wh.at 
are  called  in  the  world,  men  of  honour  and 
probity;  we  have  demf)nstrated  this  assertion 
by  an  unexceptionable  aryuinent  taken  from 
experience,  we  iiave  said, Observe  that  man, 
who  was  formerly  so  very  scrupulous  of  re- 
taining the  property  of  his  neighbour ;  see, 
he  retains  it  now  without  any  scruple :  ob- 
serve those  parents,  who  were  formerly  so 
tender  of  their  children  ;  see  now  with  vvhat 
inhumanity  they  leave  them  to  strugifle  with 
want  We  have  represented  to  them,  that 
to  reside  where  the  spirit  of  persecution  is 
only  smothered,  not  extinguished,  is  to  betray 
religion,  by  exposing  the  friends  of  it  to  tho 
hazard  of  being  martyied,  without  having 
any  assurance  of  being  possessed  with  a  spirit 
of  martyrdom  ;  and  we  have  endeavoured  to 
convince  them,  that  he  who  flatters  himself 
he  shall  be  able  to  undergo  martyrdom,  and 
lives  where  he  is  liable  to  it,  while  Provi- 
dence opens  a  way  of  escape,  is  presumptu- 
ous in  the  highest  degree,  and  exposes  him- 
self to  such  misery  as  the  son  of  Sirach 
denounces,  when  he  says,  'He  that  loveth 
danger,  s'lall  perish  therein,'  Ecchis.  iii.  26. 
N  it  having  been  able  to  move  them  by  mo- 
tives taken  from  their  own  interest,  we  have 
tried  to  affect  them  with  the  interest  of  their 
children.  We  iiave  told  them,  that  their  pos- 
terity will  live  without  an^  religion,  that  thej 
will  have  too  much  knowledge  to  adhere  to 
supersiiticn,  and  t.)o  httle  to  profess  the  true 
religion ;  ard  this  sad  prophecy  has  been 
already  verified  in  their  families.  To  all 
the.se  demonstrations  they  are  insensi'de; 
they  wilful!y  shut  their  eyes  against  the 
light;  they  guard  themselves  again.-;t  the 
firce  of  tliese  exhortations  ;  tiicv  are  forging 
new  fi'tters  for  themselves,  which  >\  ill  con- 
fine tiiem  to  a  place,  of  which  God  has  said, 


Ser.  XLII.] 


UNIVERSAL  OBEDIENCE. 


377 


•  Come  out  of  her.  my  people !  that  ye  be  not 
partakers  of  her  sins,  and  that  ye  receive  not 
-.f  her  plagues,'  Rev.  xviii.  4  They  build, 
key  plant,  they  marry,  they  give  in  mar- 
riage, and  thus  they  have  abused  the  patience 
of  thirty -five  years,  in  which  they  have  been 
invited  to  repent  I  ask  again,  what  rehation 
can  be  so  near  as  to  prevail  with  us  to  put 
K.  this  kind  of  lite  among  the  frailties,  for 
'   which  evangelical  abatements  are  reserved. 

Let  us  all,  as  far  as  providential  circum- 
stances will  allow,  follow  a  profession  compa- 
tible with  OUT  duty.  Let  us  do  more,  let  us 
endeavour  so  to  arrange  nur  aft'iirs  tliat  our 
professions  may  stimuiate  us  to  obedience, 
and  tliat  evry  thing  around  us  may  direct 
our  attention  to  God.  Alas  !  in  spite  of  all 
our  precautions,  sin  will  too  often  carry  us 
away  ;  we  shall  too  often  forget  our  Creator, 
how  loud  soever  every  voice  around  us  pro- 
claims his  beneficence  to  us,  and  his  excel- 
kncies  in  himself  But  how  great  will  our 
defection  be,  if  our  natural  inclinations  be 
strengthened  by  the  engagements  of  our 
condition  !  A  kind  of  lite  wicked  of  itself  is 
the  first  sort  of  sin  of  which  my  te.Kt  says, 
'  Whosoever  offendeth  in  one  point  is  guilty 
of  all.' 

2.  In  the  same  class  we  put  sinners,  who 
cherish  a  darling  passion.  Few  hearts  are 
so  depraved  as  to  be  inclined  to  nil  excesses. 
Few  souls  are  so  insensible  lo  the  grand  in- 
terest of  theii  salvation,  as  to  be  unwilling 
to  do  an  thing  towards  obtaining  salvntion. 
But,  at  the  same  time,  where  is  the  h<\art  so 
renewed  as  to  have  no  evil  disposition  ?  And 
how  few  Christions  are  there,  who  love  their 
salv.iti'in  so  as  to  sacrifice  all  to  tli«  obtw  ning 
ot  it .'  The  offender,  of  whom  v.e  speak, 
pretends  to  compi  und  with  his  law  giver  Is 
he  inciined  to  avarice  he  will  say,L.ird! 
allow  me  to  gratify  my  love  of  money,  and  I 
am  ready  to  give  up  my  disposition  to  re- 
venge. Is  he  inchncd  to  revenge  ?  Jjord ! 
allow  me  to  be  v  ndictive,  and  I  will  sacrifice 
my  avarice.  Is  he  dispo cd  to  voluptuous- 
ness.'' Lord  !  suffl-r  me  to  retain  my  Diusilla, 
and  my  Delilali,  and  my  vi^ngrance,  my  am- 
bition, m3'  avarice,  and  everj'  thmg  else,  I 
will  sacrifice  to  thee. 

A  favourite  passion  is  inconsistent  with  tlie 
chief  virtue  of  Clirislianity,  with  that,  which 
is  tlie  life  and  soul  of  all  others,  I  mean  iJiat 
love  of  God,  which  pl.ices  God  supreme  in 
the  heart.  A  jealous  God  will  accept  of  none 
of  our  homage,  while  we  refuse  him  that  of 
our  chief  lo  e.  All  tlie  sacrifices  tliat  we 
can  offer  him  to  purchase  a  right  to  retain  a 
darling  sin,  are  proofs  of  the  empire  which 
that  sin  has  over  us,  and  of  our  fixed  resolu- 
tion to  free  ourselves  from  the  law  cf  hun, 
who  would  be,  as  he  ought  to  be,  the  supreme 
object  of  our  lnve.  Do  not  fancy,  that  what 
we  have  sail  conperniiig  involuntary  pas- 
sions IS  applicable  to  a  darling  sin,  and  excul- 
pates a  favourite  passion.  One  man.  wlmse 
involuntary  passions  sometimes  hurry  him 
away,  detests  iiis  own  disposition  ;  but  the 
other  cherishes  his.  One  makes  many  an  ar- 
duous attempt  to  correct  his  frror  :  the  other 
engages  to  do  so  ;  but  he  makes  promises 
pass  for  performances,  and  means  to  get  rid  of 
the  last  by  professing  the  first.    One  consi- 


ders the  grace  that  tears  the  deplorable  pas- 
sion from  his  heart  as  a  most  desirable  bene- 
fit ;  and,  even  while  he  falls  into  his  sin,  he 
considers  it  as  the  greatest  misfortune  of  his 
life  :  the  other  regards  him  as  a  mortal  enemy 
v;ho  endeavours  to  prevail  with  him  to  re- 
nounce a  passion,  in  tlie  gratification  of  which 
!  all  his  happiness  depends. 
I  Let  us  lay  dov.'n  the  love  of  God  as  a 
[  foundation  of  all  virtue.  Let  us  love  him 
I  chiefly,  who  is  supremely  lovely.  Let  our 
hearts  adopt  the  language  of  the  psalmist, 
'  Access  to  God  is  my  supreme  good.  Whom 
have  I  in  heaven  but  thee,  and  there  is  none 
upi.n  the  earth  that  I  desire  besides  thee,' 
Ps  Ixxiii.  '28.  25.  Let  us  consider  and  avoid, 
as  acts  of  idolatry,  all  immoderately  lively 
and  affectionate  emotions  of  love  to  crea- 
tures. Let  us  entertain  only  a  small  degree 
of  attachment  to  objects,  which  at  most  can 
procure  only  a  momentary  felicity.  A  fa- 
vourite passion  is  a  second  disposition  of 
mind,  that  renders  us  gui  ty  of  a  violation  of 
the  while  law.  even  while  we  seem  to  violate 
it  only  in  an  inconsiderable  part. 

3.  Finally,  Intrutltib  e  viinds  are  condemn- 
ed in  our  text.  Docility  is  a  touchstone,  by 
which  a  d<iubtful  piety  may  be  known  to  be 
real  or  apparent.  The  royal  prophet  de- 
scribes in  the  fiftieth  psalm  such  a  rigid  ob- 
servf>r  lif  the  exterior  of  religion  as  we  speak 
of;  a  man  who  has  the  name  of  God  always 
in  his  mouth,  and  is  ever  talking  of  the  holi- 
ness of  his  laws  ;  a  man  always  ready  to  offer 
whole  hecatombs  in  sacrifice  ;  but  who  has 
not  patience  to  hear  a  representation  of  his 
duty,  and  an  exhortation  to  perform  it. 
The  psalmist  declares,  all  this  appearance  of 
devotion,  if  unaccompanied  with  docility,  is 
Useless;  yea,  more  likely  to  arouse  the  anger 
of  God  than  to  obtain  his  favour.  '  Thou 
wicked  wretch!'  says  he,  in  tiie  name  of 
God,  to  this  phantom  of  piety,  who  imposes 
on  the  church  by  his  outward  appearance, 
and  who,  perhaps,  imposes  on  himself ; 
'  Thou  wicked  man,  what  hast  thou  to  do  to 
d  dare  my  statutes,  or  that  thou  shouldest 
take  my  covenant  in  thy  mouth,  see  ng  ihou 
hatest  instruct  on  r'  ver.  IG.  He  authorizes 
us  to  use  the  siuiie  language  to  some  of  you. 
Why  this  assiduity  at  church,  why  this  zeal 
on  Solemn  festivals,  why  this  ferv  ur  at  the 
Lord's  table,  seeing  you  are  untcachable ; 
seeing  you  love  none  but  vague  maxima  of 
vi  tue  and  holiness ;  seein;r  you  will  not 
allow  your  casuist  to  enter  into  some  details; 
seeing  everj'  man  loses  you  favour,  if  he 
only  hint  at  your  foibles ;  seeing  your  f en- 
derest  and  most  faith  ul  friend  would  become 
susp'-cted  directly,  yea,  would  seem  n  im- 
pertinent Censor,  the  moment  he  should  dis- 
cover your  faults,  and  e  deavour  to  make 
you  acknowledge  and  reform  tliem  .' 

My  brettiren,  it  we  love  virtue,  we  love  all 
the  means  that  lead  to  it,  and  with  peculiar 
pleasure  behold  tliem  who  recommend  it. 
Nothing  is  more  opposite  to  that  general  de- 
votedness  to  the  laws  of  God  which  my  text 
prescribes,  than  a  sjiirit  inimical  against  them 
who  have  the  courage  to  control  the  passions. 
'  He  that  turneth  away  his  ear  from  hearing' 
the  law,  even  his  prayers  shall  be  aboiiiina- 
tion.'  Prov.  sxviii,  9.  '  Whoso  loveth  instruc- 


378 


GREAT  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


[Seb.  XLill. 


tion  loveth  knowledge,'  chap.  xii.  1.  '  The  i  head,'  Ps.  cxli.  5.  May  God  always  continue 
law  of  the  wise  is  a  fountain  of  life,  to  de-  a  succession  of  such  righteous  men,  and  may 
part  from  the  snares  of  death,'  chap.  xiii.  14.  !  he  incline  our  hearts  to  profit  by  their  instruc- 
*  Let  the  righteous  smite  me,  it  shall  be  a  I  tions  !  To  him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever, 
kindness  ;  and  let  him  reprove  me,  it  sliall  be  Amen, 
an  excellent  oil,  which  shall  not  break  my  I 


SERMON   XI^III. 


THE  GREAT  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


Matthew  xxiii.  23. 

Wo  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites !  for  ye  pay  tithe  of  mint,  and 
anise,  and  cummin,  and  have  omitted  the  iveighfier  matters  of  the  law, 
ju'lgmenf,  mercy,  and  faith:  these  ought  ye  to  have  done,  and  not  to  leave 
the  other  undone. 


We  frequently  meet  with  a  sort  of  people 
in  the  world,  many  of  whom  neglect  the 
chief  virtues  of  rehgion,  and  supply  the  wunt 
of  them  by  performing  the  least  articles  of 
it ;  and  others,  who  perform  the  chief  duties, 
and  neglect  the  least.  Observe  one  man, 
who  cherishes  a  spirit  of  bitterness,  and  is 
all  swelled  witii  pride,  envy,  and  revenge  ; 
by  what  art  has  he  acquired  a  reputation  of 
eminent  piety  .'  By  grave  looks,  by  an  affect- 
ed simplicity  of  dress,  by  an  assiduity  in  the 
exercises  of  public  worship.  See  another, 
who  is  all  immersed  in  worldly  affairs,  whose 
life  is  all  consumed  in  pleasure,  who  neglects, 
and  who  affects  to  neglect,  both  public  wor- 
ship and  private  devotion.  Ask  him  how  he 
expects  to  escape  in  a  well-regulated  society 
that  just  censure  which  irregular  actions,  and 
a  way  of  living  inconsistent  with  Christian- 
ity, deserve.  He  will  tell  you,  I  am  a  man 
of  honour,  I  pay  my  debts,  I  am  faithful  to 
my  engagemenrs,  I  never  break  my  word. 

"We  are  going  to-day,  my  brethren,  to  at- 
tack both  classes  of  this  inconsistent  sort  of 
people  ;  and  to  prove  that  the  practice  of 
small  virtues  cannot  supply  the  want  of  the 
chief;  and  that  the  performance  of  the  chief 
virtues  cannot  make  up  for  the  omission  of 
the  least.  These  points  are  determined  by 
Jesus  Clirist  in  the  text.  On  the  one  hand, 
he  denounces  a  wo  against  the  scribes  and 
Pharisees,  who  scrupulously  extended  their 
obedience  to  the  Mosaical  law  of  titlics  to 
the  utmost  limits,  wiule  they  violated  tlie 
more  indispensable  precepts  ofuioraiity.  On 
the  other  hand,  ho  docs  not  intend  to  divert 
the  attention  of  liis  disciples  from  the  least  I 
duties  by  enforcing  the  greatest.  '  These 
ought  ye  to  have  done,  and  not  to  leave  the 
other  undone.'  As  if  he  had  said,  your  prin- 
cipal attention,  indeed,  should  be  directed  to 
equity  of  judgment,  to  charitable  distribu- 
tion of  property,  and  to  sincerity  of  conver- 
sation ;  but,  besides  an  attention  to  these,  you 
should  diligently  discharge  the  less  consider- 
able duty  of  tithing,  and  other  such  obliga- 
tions. These  are  two  propositions  which  I 
will  endeavour     to    explain    and    establish. 


They  will  afford  matter  for  two  discourses ; 
the  first  on  the  chief  virtues,  and  the  last  on 
the  least,  or,  more  strictly  speaking,  the  less 
considerable.  Some  preliminary  remarks, 
however,  are  absolutely  necessary  for  our 
understanding  the  text. 

1.  The  word  that  should  determine  the 
sense,  is  equivocal  in  the  original,  and  signi- 
fies sometimes  to  exact  tithes,  and  at  other 
times  to  pay  them.  It  is  used  in  tlie  first 
sense  in  Hebrews,  '  the  sons  of  Levi  have  a 
commandment  to  take  tithes  of  the  people  ;' 
and  a  little  after,  '  he  whose  descent  is  not 
counted  from  them,  received  tithes  of  Abra- 
ham,' chap.  vii.  5,  6.  But,  in  the  gospel  of 
St.  Luke,  the  word  which  we  have  elsewhere 
rendered  to  receive  tithes,  signifies  to  pay 
them,  '  I  give  tithes,'  says  the  Pharisee,  'of 
all  that  I  possess,'  chap,  xviii.  12. 

The  ambiguity  of  this  term  has  produced 
various  opinions  concerning  the  meaning  of 
our  text.  The  most  laborious  and  the  most 
learned  of  tlie  ancient  expositors,  I  mean  St. 
Jerome,  is  said  to  have  taken  the  term  in  the 
first  sense.  According  to  this  hypothesis, 
Jesus  Clirist  paints  the  Pharisees  here  in 
colours,  which  have  almost  always  too  well 
suited  the  persons  to  whom  governments 
have  intrustod  the  business  of  taxgathering. 
Inhumanity  has  almost  always  been  their 
cliaracter.  '  Ye  tithe  mint,  anise,  and  cum- 
min,and  j'e  omitjudgment,  mercy,  and  faith.' 
As  if  he  had  said,  you  tithe  inconsiderable 
herbs,  and  you  do  not  reflect,  that  it  is  incom- 
patible with  princii)les  both  of  equity  and 
mercy  to  tithe  inconsiderable  articles,  from 
which  the  proprietors  derive  little  or  no  ad- 
vantage. It  is  not  right,  that  these  things 
should  be  subject  to  such  imposts  as  go- 
vernments charge  on  articles  of  great  conse- 
quence. 

We  embrace  the  sense  of  our  translators, 
and  take  tlie  word  to  signify  here  pay  tithes. 
This  sense  best  agrees  with  the  whole  text. 
'  Ye  pay  tithes  of  mint,  anise,  and  cummin, 
and  have  omitted  the  weightier  matters  of 
law.  These  ought  3'e  to  have  done,  and  not 
to  leave  the  other  undone.'     It  agrees  better 


Seb    XLIII.] 


GREAT  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


379 


also  with  the  following  words,  '  Ye  strain  at 
a  gnat,  and  swallow  a  camel.'  This  is  a  pro- 
verbial way  of  speaking,  descriptive  of  that 
disposition  of  mind,  which  inclines  men  to 
perform  inconsiderable  duties  with  a  most 
scrupulous  exactness,  and  to  violate  without 
any  scruple  the  most  essential  articles  of  re- 
ligion. The  hypocrisy  of  the  Pharisees 
would  have  been  less  remarkable  in  an  inhu- 
man exaction  of  tithes,  than  in  a  parade  of 
paying  them  with  a  rigid  nicety.  Accord- 
ingly, it  is  a  Pharisee  who  speaks  the  words 
just  no^v  cited  from  St  Luke,  and  who  reck- 
ons scrupulosity  among  his  virtues.  '  God,  I 
thank  thoe,  that  I  am  not  as  other  men  are. 
I  fast  twice  in  the  week,  I  give  tithes  of  all 
that  I  possess,'  that  is  to  say,  I  pay  tithes  of 
those  things  which  seem  to  be  too  inconsi- 
derable to  be  tithed. 

2.  Our  second  remark  regards  the  law  of 
tithes.  Tithes  were  dues  payable  to  God, 
and  they  consisted  of  the  tenth  of  the  pro- 
duce of  whatever  was  titlieable.  Tiie  Jews 
pretended,  that  the  example  of  Abraham, 
who  paid  to  God,  in  the  person  of  Melchise- 
dec,  his  minister,  a  tenth  of  the  spoils  which 
he  took  from  the  confederate  kings  of  the 
plain,  ouglit  to  have  the  force  of  a  law  with 
all  his  descendants.  To  this  mysterious  cir- 
cumstance they  refer  the  origin  of  titlies. 
Natural  religion  seems  to  have  inculcated 
among  the  pagans  the  necessity  of  paying 
this  kind  of  homage  to  God.  We  meet  with 
examples  among  the  heathens  from  time  im- 
memorial. With  them  tithes  were  consider- 
ed as  a  sacred  tax.  Hence  Pisistratus,  a  ty- 
rant of  Alliens,  said  to  the  Athenians,  in  order 
to  obtain  their  consent  to  submit  to  his  au- 
thority. Inquire  whetlier  I  appropriate  tithes 
to  myself,  and  do  not  religiously  carry  them 
to  the  temples  of  the  gods.  We  will  not  mul- 
tiply quotations  It  shall  suffice  to  say,  God 
declared  to  the  Israelites,  that  the  land  of 
Canaan  was  his,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the 
world  ;  that  they  should  enjoy  the  produce 
of  the  land,  but  should  be  as  strangers  and 
pilgrims,  and  have  no  absolute  disposal  of  the 
lands  themselves.  In  the  quality  of  sole  pro- 
prietor he  obliged  them  to  pay  him  homage, 
and  this  is  the  true  origin  of  tithes.  '  All  the 
tithe  of  the  land,  whether  of  the  seed  of  the 
land,  or  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree,  is  the  Lord's,' 
Lev.  xxvii.  30  ;  that  is,  tithe  ticlongs  to  God 
of  right,  and  cannot  be  withheld  without 
sacrilege. 

There  were  three  sorts  of  tithes,  The  first 
kind  was  appointed  for  the  support  of  the 
Levites,  and  was  wholly  devoted  to  that  pur- 
pose, except  a  fifth,  which  was  taken  out  for 
the  pricsis.  This  was  called  by  the  Jews 
the  first  tithe,  the  provision  for  God,  because 
it  was  dedicated  to  the  maintenance  of  the 
ministers  of  the  temple.  '  Bring  ye  all  the 
tithes  into  the  store-house,  that  there  maybe 
meat  in  mine  house,'  Mai.  iii.  10.  Hence 
the  Jews  thought  themselves  free  from  this 
kind  of  tithe,  when  they  liad  no  temple. 

There  was  a  second  sort  of  tithe.  Every 
head  of  a  family  was  obliged  to  carry  it  hmi- 
s«lf  to  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  and  to  eat  it 
there.  If  he  were  prevented  by  distance  of 
habitation,  he  was  allowed  to  redeem  this  tax, 
that  is   to  say,   he   was  allowed  to  pay  an 


equivalent.  A  law  to  this  purpose  is  in 
Deuteronomy,  '  Thou  shalt  eat  before  the 
Lord  thy  God,  in  the  place  which  he  shall 
choose  to  place  his  name  there,  the  tithe  of 
thy  corn,  of  thy  wine,  and  of  thine  oil,  and 
the  firstlings  of  thy  herds,  and  of  thy  flocks, 
that  thou  mayest  learn  to  fear  the  Lord  thy 
God  always.  And  if  the  way  be  too  long 
for  thee,'  that  is  to  say,  if  the  tithe  would 
take  damage  in  carrying,  '  then  shalt  thou 
turn  it  into  money,  and  shalt  carry  it  into  the 
place  which  the  Lord  thy  God  shall  choose,' 
chap.  xiv.  ti3. 25. 

The  third  sort  of  tithes  were  called  the 
tithes  for  the  poor.  These,  it  was  supposed, 
were  paid  to  God,  because  his  benevolence 
had,  if  I  may  speak  agreeably  to  an  expres- 
sion of  Jesus  Christ,  incorporated  them  with 
himself.  '  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto 
one  of  the  least  of  these  my  bretbren,ye  have 
done  it  unto  me,'  Matt.  xxv.  40.  This  tithe 
was  paid  every  three  years.  '  At  the  end  of 
three  years  thou  shalt  bring  forth  all  the  tithe 
of  thine  increase  the  same  year,  and  shall  lay 
it  up  within  the  gates.  And  the  Levite,  be- 
cause he  haih  no  part  nor  inheritance  with 
thee,  and  the  stranger,  and  the  fatherlessp 
and  the  widow,  which  are  within  thy  gates, 
shall  come,  and  shall  eat,  and  be  satisfied  ; 
that  the  Lord  thy  God  may  bless  thee  in  all 
the  work  of  thine  hand,  which  thou  doest/ 
Deut.  xiv.  28,  29. 

But  what  principally  regards  the  sense  of 
our  text  is,  that  the  law  had  not  precisely  de- 
termined what  things  were  titheable.  It  had 
only  expressed  the  matter  in  general  terms. 
This  had  given  occasion  to  two  opinions 
among  the  Jews,  that  of  the  scrupulous,  and 
that  of  the  remiss.  The  remiss  affirmed, 
that  only  things  of  value  were  titheable.  The 
scrupulous,  among  whom  the  Pharisees  held 
the  first  place,  extended  the  law  to  articles  of 
the  least  importance  Their  rituals  ordained, 
that  all  eatables  were  titheable,  and  in  this 
class  they  put  the  inconsiderable  herbs  men- 
tioned in  the  text.  They  are  all  specified  in 
the  Talmud.  Jesus  Christ  declares  himself 
here  for  the  opinion  of  the  Pharisees  ;  but 
what  he  blamed,  and  what  he  detests  was, 
that  they  dispensed  with  the  great  duties  of 
religion,  under  pretence  of  performmg these, 
the  least ;  and  this  is  the  subject  we  are  go- 
ing to  examine. 

I.  We  will  define  the  great  duties  of  reli- 
gion. 

II.  We  will  unmask  those  hypocrites,  who 
by  observing  the  small  duties  of  religion, 
pretend  to  purchase  a  right  of  violating  the 
chief  articles  of  it.  We  will  endeavour  to 
develo[)e  this  kind  of  devotion,  and  to  show 
you  the  inutility  and  extravagance  of  it. 

I.  What  are  tlie  chief  duties  of  religion  i 
or,  to  retain  the  language  of  my  text,  what 
are  tlie  weightier  matters  of  the  law? 

In  some  respects  all  virtues  are  equal,  be- 
cause the  foundation  of  our  obedience  is  the 
same,  that  is,  the  majesty  of  the  Supreme 
Legislator,  who  prescribed  all.  A  man  who 
should  coolly  and  obstinately  violate  the 
least  important  duties  of  religion,  would  be 
no  less  guilty  than  he  who  should  violate  the 
most  essential  articles  of  it.  His  violation  of 
the  least  ousrht  to  be  accounted  a  violation  of 


sso 


GREAT  DUTIES  OF  RELIGfON 


[Sek.  XLIII. 


the  greatest,  because  by  sinning  in  the  man- 
ner just  now  mentioned,  he  would  subvert, 
as  far  as  he  could,  the  ground  of  all  virtues, 
great  and  stnall.  St.  James  says,  '  whosoever 
shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  otFeiid  in 
one  point,  he  is  guilty  of  all,"  chap.  ii.  10.  and 
the  reas  in  he  assigns  is.  the  same  G(>d  lias 
prescribed  all,  '  For  he  that  said.  Do  not  com- 
mit adultery,  said  also,  Do  not  kill.'  Now, 
udds  the  apostle, '  if  thou  coinni'tno  adultery, 
yet  if  thou  kill,  thou  art  become  a  transgres- 
sor of  the  law,'  ver.  11.  that  is  to  say,  thou 
subvertest  the  foundation  of  the  law,  that 
forbids  adultery  which  thou  dost  not  commit, 
as  well  as  that  which  forbids  inimJsr  which 
thou  dost  commit.  In  this  respect,  then,  the 
virtues  and  vices  are  equal.  In  this  view, 
there  is  no  room  for  distinction  between  the 
more  and  the  less  important  duties  of  re- 
ligion. 

But  this,  which  is  incontestable  in  one 
point  of  view,  is  not  defensible  in  another. 
There  are  some  things  in  the  law  niore  im- 
portant than  others  ;    because,  though  they 


the  means  that  lead  to  the  end.  We  shall 
briefly  explain  these  five  rules,  and  shall  leave 
them  to  your  mature  deliberation. 

The  first  rule  is  taken  from  the  origin  of  a 
virtue.  One  virtue  originating  immediately 
\n  primitive  lavi'  is  more  important  than  an- 
other, an  obligation  to  perform  which  is 
lounded  only  on  some  particular  circum- 
stances; and  such  viitues  as  are  immediate 
consequences  of  this  law,  are  more  iniporiant 
than  others  that  are  only  remotely  conse- 
quential 

Primitive  hw  is  that  class  of  maxims 
which  derive  their  authority,  not  from  reveal- 
ed law  only,  but  from  the  eternal  truths  on 
which  they  are  founded,  and  from  the  nature 
of  the  intelligent  beinos  to  whom  they  are 
prescribed  Such  are  these  :  a  created  intel- 
ligence has  no  right  to  asume  a  freedom  from 
tbe  laws  of  his  (  reator :  the  Being  who  pos- 
sesses supreme  perfection,  is  alone  worthy  of 
supreme  adoration  :  'Whatsoever  ye  would 
that  men  should  do  to  you  do  ye  even  so  to 
them,'   Matt,   vii     12:    talents  with  which  I 


all  proceed  from  the  same  tribunal,  yet  the  '  am  intrusted  by  another,  ought  not  to  be  em- 
majesty  of  God,  the  lawgiver,  was  displayed  ployed  to  gratify  my  particular  caprice  ;  but 
in  a  more  e.'^press  and  solemn  manner,  in  or-  they  ought  to  be  so  used  as  to  enable  me  to 
daining  some  than  others,  so  that  he  who  vio-  give  a  good  account  of  tlieiii  to  him  who  in 
lates  the  first  kind  of  virtues,  attacks  this  trusted  me  vvith  them,  and  directed  the  uso 
majesty  in  a  more  direct  manner  than  he  of  them.  Multiply  and  enlarge  these  max- 
who  is  guilty  of  violatintr  only  the  last.  ims,  brethren  ;  I  only  give  you  a  clew.     Vir- 

The  ditSculty  lies  in  exactly  determining  tues  of  this  kind  are  far  more  important  than 
the  rulsri  by  which  these  two  classes  of  vir-  others,  an  obligation  to  which  is  founded  only 
tues  hav^,  been  distinguished.  Tiie  time  al-  on  particular  circumstances.  Virtues  of  this 
lotted  for  a  sermon  rend'^rs  such  a  discussion  last  kind  oblige  only  as  consequences  of  the 
impracticable.  It  is,  if  I  niay  so  speak,  es-  primitive  law,  of  which  I  just  now  spoke  ; 
sential  to  all  sernn  ns  preached  in  this  pulpit,  and  they  oblige  nn  re  or  les.s,  as  the  conse- 
that  they  be  discussed  superficially  We  .  quences  are  more  or  less  remote.  To  address 
must  accommodate  ourselves  to  custom,  and  ,  consolatr>ry  coiivers.ition  to  a  sufferer  obliges 
briefl',-  sketch  out  the  present  subject.  ;  only  as  a  consequence  of  this  primitive  vir- 

In  order  to  ascertain  what  virtues  ougrht  to  \  tue,  '  Wliatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should 
be  arranged  among  the  most  important,  and  do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them.'  To 
what  among  the  leas':,  five  things  must  be  j  comfort  an  afflicted  man  by  conversing  with 
distinguished.  1.  The  origin  of  a  virtue.  1  him,  is  a  consequence  more  remote  from  this 
2.  The  duration  of  it.  3.  Its  object.  4.  Its  |  primitive  virtue  than  to  remove  his  affliction 
influtmce.    5.    Its   destination.      From    these    by  supplying    his  wants      Accordingly,  the 


distinctions  arise  five  rules. 

The  fiist  rule  regard.--  the  ori<[ino?a.  virtue. 
A  virtue  arising  immediately  from  primitive 
law,  is  more  important  than  others,  an  oijli- 
gation  to  which  arises  from  some  particular 
circumstances  ;    and   those  which  are  imme- 


virtues  of  this  consequential  kind  cease  to 
oblige,  when  the  circumstances  that  foimd 
the  obligation  cease.  Hence  it  sometimes 
happens,  these  duties  annihilate  one  another. 
We  must  often  omit  some  to  discharge 
others.     We  must  defer,  or  wholly  omit  con- 


diate   consequences    of    this    law.  are    more  '  solatory  conversation,  in  order  to  procure  and 


important  than  others,  which  are  remotely 
consequential. 

The  second  regards  the  duration  of  a  vir- 
tue. A  virtue  that  runs  on  to  eternity,  is 
more  important  than  another,  which  belongs 
only  to  the  economy  of  time. 

The  third  rule  regard  j  the  object  of  a  virtue. 
A  virtue,  that  has  a  great  object,  is  more  im- 
portant than  another  which  has  an  inconsider- 
able objei't. 

The  fourth  rule  is  taken  from  the  infuence 
of  a  virtue.  A  virtue  connected  with  other 
virtues,  and  moving  along  Wvth  itself  very 
many  others,  is  more  important  tu m  another 
virtue  which  operates  independently  and 
alone. 

The  fiflh  rule  regards  the  end  of  a  virtue. 
A  virtue  that  constitutes  the  end  to  wiiich  all 
religion  conducts  us,  is  more  important  than 
other  virtues,    which  at  most   only  promote 


administer  real  supplies.  We  must  omit  re-. 
lieving  a  stranger,  in  order  to  fly  to  relieve  a 
fcli'jvv-citizen.  We  must  coase  to  relieve  one 
to  whom  we  are  related  only  as  a  fellow-citi- 
zen, in  order  to  attend  to  the  relief  of  ano- 
ther, who  is  a  iii^mber  with  us  of  the  house- 
hold of  faith,'  Gal.  vi.  10,  and  so  on. 

2.  Virtues  anterior  to  particular  circum- 
stances subsist  after  those  circ  mstances; 
and  my  second  maxim  is  onlj'  the  first  in  u, 
different  p;)int  of  view.  A  virtue  perpi?tua- 
ted  to  eternitij  is  more  important  than  ano- 
ther vvhicli  is  confined  within  the  limits  of 
time.  Now,  the  virtues  that  go  on  toVter- 
nity,  are  the  sime  wnich  oblige  prior  to  all 
the  particular  circumstances  of  time.  The 
two  r'lles,  thnrei'ore,  unite;  it  is  one  propo- 
sed in  divers  views. 

{I(;ar  how  St.  Paul  reasons  to  prove  that 
charity  is  more  excellent  than  all  the  miracu- 


See.  XLIII.] 


GREAT  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


381 


lous  gifts  which  God  bestowed  on  the  primi- 
tive Christians.  He  enumerates  these  gifts  ; 
'  God  hath  set  in  the  church,  first  apostles, 
secondarily  prophets,  thirdly  teachers,  after 
that  miracles,  then  gifts  of  healings,  helps, 
governments,  iliversities  of  tongues,'  1  Cor. 
xii.  28.  '  But,'  adds  he,  '  covet  earnestly  the 
best  gifts  :  and  yet  I  show  unto  you  a  more 
excellent  way,'  ver.  31.  Then  follows  his 
encomium  upon  charity.  '  Charity,'  or  love, 
'  never  faileth  :  but  whether  there  be  prophe- 
cies, they  shall  fail  ;  whether  there  be 
tongues,  they  shall  cease  ;  whether  there  be 
knowledge,  it  shall  vanish  away,'  1  Cor.  xiii. 
8.  Moreover,  he  places  charity  not  only 
above  all  miraculous  gifts :  but  he  sets  it 
above  all  other  virtues.  '  And  now  abideth 
faith,  hope,  charity,  these  three :  but  the 
greatest  of  these  is  charity,'  ver.  13. 

My  brethren,  what  St.  Paul  said  of  mira- 
culous gifts,  and  of  some  virtues,  that  '  they 
fair  in  comparison  with  charity,  an  obliga- 
tion to  which  continues  forever,  we  say  of  a 
thousand  particular  practices,  to  which,  in- 
deed, you  are  obli-jed,  but  which  are  not  to 
be  compared  with  other  great  virtues,  of  the 
excellence  of  which  we  have  been  speaking, 
and  which  are  '  weightier  matters  of  the 
law.'  All  these  particular  circumstances 
will  cease  in  another  life :  but  these  great 
virtues,  to  which  we  would  persuade  you  to 
give  the  preference,  will  never  cease.  In 
heaven  we  can  erect  no  hospitals,  visit  no 
sick  people,  wipe  off  no  slander :  but  we 
shall  be  happily  united  by  ties  the  most 
agreeable,  the  most  close,  and  the  most  in- 
diosoluble.  In  heaven  we  shall  love  one  ano 
ther  with  sentiments  the  most  sincere,  the 
most  lively,  the  most  tender ;  because  we 
shall  participate  the  same  God,  propose  to 
ourselves  the  same  end,  and  be  forever  in  the 
highest  bliss.  In  heaven  we  shall  have  no 
temple :  we  shall  eternally  enjoy  the  pre- 
sence of  God.  In  heaven  we  shall  not  'take 
hold  of  each  otlier's  skirts,'  Zech.  viii.  23, 
according  to  the  expression  of  a  prophet, 
saying,  '  Come,  and  let  us  go  up  to  the 
mountain  of  the  Lord,'  Isa.  ii,  3 :  but  we  shall 
incessantly  animate  one  another  to  celebrate 
the  praises  of  the  Author  of  our  existence 
and  happiness.  In  heaven  we  shall  not  ap- 
proach a  taMe  t»  commemorate,  by  receiving 
a.  little  bread  and  wine,  our  divine  Redeemer, 
and  to  hold  communion  with  God ;  but  we 
shall  be  as  closely  connected  with  God  as 
creatures  can  be  1o  the  Creator  Those  vir- 
tues which  approach  nearest  to  them  that 
are  anterior  to  time,  and  to  them  that  con- 
tinue to  eternity,  are  more  important  than 
others,  to  which  circumstances  of  time  oblige 
us. 

3.  Our  third  rule  regards  objects  of  virtue. 
A  virtue  that  has  a  great  object,  is  more  im- 
portant than  those  which  have  small  objects. 
The  answer  of  Jesus  Christ  to  a  I'amous 
question  in  his  time  is  well  known.  It  was 
then  warmly  disputed,  '  Which  is  the  great 
commandment .''  Some  rabbles  said,  it  was 
that  which  appointed  phylucte.rics ;  others 
affirmed,  it  v\as  ihe  law  of  circumcision ; 
others  again  contended  for  that  which  ap 
pointed  sacrifices.  No,  said  Jesus  Christ, 
none  of  these  commandments  merit  the  high- 

3C 


est  place  ;  '  the  great  commandment  is,  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy 
heart,  with  all  thy  sou;,  with  all  thy  strength.' 
This  law  admits  of  no  dispensation,  no  limi- 
tation, no  concurrence. 

This  law,  I  say,  is  indispensable  :  it  binds 
alike  angels  and  men,  and  they  are  only  de- 
vils who,  having  precipitated  themselves 
by  the  greatest  of  all  crimes  into  the  greatest 
of  all  miseries,  are  reduced  to  the  dreadful 
necessity  of  hating  a  God  whose  perfections 
incline  him  to  render  them  miserable. 

This  law  is  unlimited.    Others  are  confined 
to  a  certain  sphere  ;  they  cease  to  be  virtues 
when  they  are  carried  to    excess,  and  what- 
ever carries  us  too  far  in  performing  one  obli- 
■  gation,  retrenches  another.     Excessive  jus- 
I  tice  runs  into  barbarity,  and  leaves  no  room 
for   the    exercise    of  humanity.      Excessive 
penitence  ceases  to  be  repentance,  degene- 
rates  into  despair,  and  leaves  no  room  for 
I  faith  in  the  promises  of  mercy  made  to  us  in 
the   gospel.      Excessive   faith   ceases  to   be 
{  faith,  degenerates  into  superstition  and  pue- 
rile  credulity,   and  leaves  no  room  for  the 
exercise  of  reason.     But  who  can  love  God 
in  an  extreme  .-"    A  passion  so  noble  can  never 
be  too  vehement,  nor  can  its  flames  ever  burn 
with  too  much  ardour. 
I      This  law   is   without   concurrence.     The 
'  great  object  of  our  love  admits  of  no  rival  in 
the  heart.     In  m;my  cases  we  ought  to  sacri- 
fice one  duty,  which  has  God  for  its  object,  to 
;  another  that  has  a  neighbour  for  its  object. 
:  It  would  be  better  to  absent  one's  self  from 
the  external  duties  of  religion,  than  to  ne- 
'  gleet  a  dying  parent.     Love  to  God,  in  this 
case,  is  not  in  opposition  to  love  for  a  fellow- 
creature.     God  himself  requires  us  in  such  a 
j  case  to  suspend  a  performance  of  ritual  ser- 
j  vice,  and  to  bend  all  our  attention  to  relieve 
'  a  dying  parent.     The    love  then  shewn  to  a 
I  dying  parent  is  a  necessary  consequence  of 
loving  God,  ofth^t  primitive  love  from  which 
all  other  loves  proceed.     Whenever  the  love 
of  God  and  tJie  love  of  our  neighbour  are  in 
opposition,  so   that   we  cannot  perform  the 
last  Vv'ithout  neglecting  the  first,  we  need  not 
hesitate  ;  love  to  God  must  be  preferred  be- 
fore love  to  creatures.     The  most  lawful  at- 
tachments become  criminal,  when  they  dimi- 
nish, yea  when  they  divide,  the  regard  that 
we  ought  to  have  for  God.    '  No  man  can 
serve  two  masters.'     '  He  that  loveth  father 
or  mother,  or  son  or  daughter,  more  than  me, 
is  not  worthy  of  mc.'     '  Thou  shalt  love  the 
Loid  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all 
t!iy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind.     This  is  the 
first  and  great  commandment,'  Matt.  vi.  24  ; 
X.  17 ;  and  xxii.  36,  37. 

The  objects  of  some  virtues,  which  regard 
our  neighbour,  are  greater  than  others  of  the 
same  class.  Charity  which  respects  the  life 
of  a  neighbour,  is  greater  than  that  which 
regards  his  fortune.  The  charity  which  re- 
gards his  salvation,  is  greater  than  that 
which  regards  his  life  ;  the  objects  are 
greater. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  virtues  which  re- 
gard ourselves.     The  rule  is  certain.     A  vir- 
tue which  has  a  great  object  is  more  impor- 
tant than  another  which  has  a  small  object. 
4.  Our  fourth  rule  regards  the  influence  of 


382 


GREAT  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


[Ser.  XLIII. 


virtues.  Every  virtue  connected  with  other 
virtues,  and  drawing  after  it  many  more,  is 
greater  than  any  single  and  detached  virtue. 
The  influence  of  virtues  proceeds  in  some 
cases  from  the  relations  of  him  who  per- 
forms them,  and  in  others  from  the  nature 
of  the  virtues  themselves. 

The  virtues  of  a  minister  of  state,  and 
those  of  a  minister  of  Christ,  are  of  far 
greater  importance  in  the  execution  of  tlieir 
offices  than  the  other  virtues  of  the  saine 
men  which  they  practice  as  private  pers^ons 
in  the  comparative  obscurity  of  their  families. 
It  is  a  very  virtuous  action  in  a  statesman  to 
provide  good  tutors  for  his  children;  but  it  is 
a  far  more  virtuous  action  in  him  to  prefer 
able  professors  in  a  university.  The  first  in- 
fluence only  his  family,  and  last  the  whole 
state.  The  same  reasoning  holds  in  the  case 
of  a  minister  of  Christ,  and  of  every  other 
person,  always  proportioning,  however,  the 
duty  to  the  relation  that  eacii  bears  in  the 
world. 

Sometimes  the  influence  of  a  virtue  is  es- 
sential to  the  nature  of  the  virtue  itself.  It 
is  a  virtue  to  bestow  on  a  beggar  a  sum  suffi- 
cient to  free  him  from  the  necessity  of  beg- 
ging ;  but  it  is  a  far  more  virtuous  action  to 
put  him  in  a  capacity  of  supporting  himself; 
fur  by  this  means  he  is  not  only  freed  from 
the  temptations  of  poverty,  but  fi'om  those  of 
idleness,  the  parent  of  all  vice  and  misery. 
.By  this  means,  you  make  a  good  member  of 
society,  a  good  father  of  a  family,  a  good 
Christian  in  the  Church,  and  so  on. 

What  has  been  said  on  the  difference  of 
virtues,  both  in  this  and  in  the  former  rules, 
may  be  applied  to  the  difference  of  vices. 
Vicious  actions  of  extensive  influence  ought 
to  be  considered  as  more  odious  than  otiiers 
of  confined  eflTects.  It  is  certainly  a  detesta- 
ble action  to  utter,  in  excesses  of  debauchery, 
any  maxims  injurious  to  religion  and  good 
manners:  but  it  is  incomparably  more  de- 
testable, coolly  and  deliberately  to  pen,  print, 
Publish,  extend,  and  perpetuate  these  maxims, 
'here  is  no  pretext  specious  enough  to  pal- 
liate the  permission  of  such  publications,  as 
there  are  no  colours  black  enough  to  describe 
the  audacious  authors  of  such  books. 

No,  neither  that  spirit  of  toleration,  which 
produces  such  innumerable  blessings  where 
it  reigns,  nor  that  freedom  of  commerce, 
which,  v/here  it  is  allowed,  enriches  nations, 
and  renders  them  so  flourishing  and  formida- 
ble ;  no,  no  pretext  can  palliate  the  liberty, 
or  rather  the  licentiousness  ihat  we  deplore. 
The  law  of  God  ordained  that  a  blasphemer 
should  be  stoned,  and  this  law  was  executed 
in  all  its  rigour  by  the  Jewish  legislature. 
Have  Christians  more  right  to  blaspheme 
God  than  Jews  had  .'  H;is  the  Christian 
magistrate  a  greater  right  to  exercise  indul- 
gence towards  blaspliemers  than  Jewish  ma- 
gistrates had  .' 

But  if  no  pretext  can  be  invented  to  pal- 
liate a  permission  of  such  publications,  who 
can  furnish  colours  black  enough  to  describe 
tlie  publishers  of  them .''  Thou  nuserable 
wretch,  who,  in  ord<ir  to  obtain  the  empty 
reputation  of  an  author,  and  to  acquire  the 
false  glory  of  writing  with  vivacity  and 
beauty,  coverest    th3self  with   real  infamy, 


what  madness  animates  thee  !  wretch !  who 
spreadest  the  poison  of  thy  corruption,  not 
only  through  thy  own  circle,  but  through  all 
the  countries  where  thine  infamous  produc- 
tions go  ;  infecting  not  only  thy  contempora- 
ries, but  all  others  who  succeed  thee ;  what 
punishment  proportioned  to  thy  malice  can 
be  infl'cted  on  thee  !  Miserable  wretch  ! 
methinks  1  distinguish  thee  hereafter  in  the 
crowd  of  victims,  which  the  vengeance  of 
God  sacrifices  in  hell.  Methinks  I  see  thee 
amidst  the  unworthy  captives,  whom  thy 
writings  subdued  to  Satan,  and  I  hear  them 
address  this  frightful  language  to  thee  :  Thou 
barbarian  !  was  it  not  enough  for  thee  to  de- 
light thyself  with  error  and  vice,  didst  thou 
aspire  at  the  glory  of  giving  a  relish  for  it  I 
Was  it  not  enough  to  exclude  thyself  from 
eternal  happiness,  must  heaven  also  be  shut 
against  us,  by  thine  abominable  maxims  as 
well  as  thy  pernicious  example  !  Was  it  not 
enough  to  precipitate  thyself  into  those 
flames,  must  we  be  drawn  after  thee .'  Thou 
wast  our  betrayer  in  time,  and  we  will  be  thy 
tormentors  through  all  eternity. 

Finally,  the  last  rule  to  distinguish  virtues 
the  most  important  of  others  of  inferior  im- 
portance, is  taken  from  the  end  of  each.  A 
virtue  that  constitutes  the  end  to  which  all 
religion  conducts  us,  is  more  important  than 
other  virtues  which  at  most  are  only  means  to 
lead  to  the  end.  What  is  the  end  and  design 
of  all  religion .'  Can  there  be  one  among  u.s 
so  great  a  novice  in  the  school  of  Jesus 
Christ  as  to  want  an  answer  to  this  question  ? 
Let  us  hear  St.  Paul,  '  Christ  loved  the 
church,  and  gave  himself  for  it,  that  he  might 
sanctify  it,  and  that  he  might  present  it  to 
himself  a  glorious  church,  not  having  spot  or 
wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing,  but  that  it  should 
be  holy  and  without  blemish,'  Eph.  v.  2o — ^27. 
This  is  the  end  of  religion.  In  order  to  ob- 
tain this  end,  we  are  dedicated  to  God  in 
baptism  as  soon  as  we  are  born.  In  our  in- 
fancy we  are  inspired  with  a  piety  of  preju- 
dice in  hope  that  in  time  we  may  imbibe  a 
rational  piety.  As  soon  as  our  minds  unfold 
their  powers  we  ate  taught  to  know  our  Cre- 
ator. As  we  ripen  in  years  and  knowledge, 
tutors  are  provided  for  us,  and  we  are  con- 
ducted to  places  of  public  worship  erected  to 
the  glory  of  our  Creator  ;  there  being  assem- 
bled we  are  invited  to  celebrate  solemn  festi- 
vals ;  there  we  are  taught  whence  we  came 
and  whither  we  go,  what  we  are  and  what  we 
ought  to  be,  what  we  should  believe,  and  what 
we  ought  to  practice  :  we  are  led  by  the  exer- 
cise of  prayer  to  the  source  of  all  that  assist- 
ance which  is  necessary  to  enable  us  to  sur- 
mount the  obstacles  which  nature,  example, 
and  habit,  in  spite  of  an  education  the  most 
rigid  and  holy,  oppose  to  our  sanctification  ; 
there  we  are  made  to  ratify,  by  engagements 
the  most  solemn  and  binding,  at  the  table  of 
the  Lord,  all  that  had  been  promised  for  us  at 
our  baptism.  Now  what  are  all  these  practi- 
ces ?  Are  they  not  means  to  conduct  us  to 
the  end  of  religion  ?  Let  us  then  put  every 
thing  in  it.s  proper  place ;  let  us  value  the 
means  only  as  they  lead  to  the  end ;  and  let 
us  not  imagine,  when  we  have  lost  sight  of 
the  end,  that  we  do  any  thing  to  purpose  by 
continuing  to  make  use  of  the  means. 


I 


Sek.  XLIII.] 


GREAT  DUTIES,  OF  RELIGION. 


383 


Here,  my  brethren,  I  finish  my  essay  ;  for 
the  rules  laid  down  are  sufficient  to  enable  us 
to  perceive  the  reasons  which  induced  Josus 
Christ  t«  rank  the  virtues  enumerated,  judg- 
ment, faith,  and  mercy,  among  the  weightier 
matters  of  thf.  hew.  Can  we  refuse  this  ranis 
to  what  Jesus  Christ  calls  judgment  ;  tliat  is, 
attentive,  impartial,  incorruptible  ju;-ticc ; 
such  equity  as  that  which  engages  a  judge  to 
go  through  the  fatigue  of  a  long  and  painful 
discussion  of  an  intricate  subject,  to  disre- 
gard the  appearance  of  persons,  never  to 
suffer  himself  to  be  blinded  by  gifts,  to  deter- 
mine a  point  and  decide  a  cause  only  by  the 
justice  or  injustice  of  it  ?  Can  we  refuse 
this  rank  to  mercy,  that  is,  to  that  benevo- 
lence which  inclines  us  always  to  tolerate  the 
tolerable  infirmities  of  our  neighbours,  to 
excuse  them  when  any  excuse  can  be  made 
for  them,  to  conceal  and  correct  them,  rather 
than  to  envenom  and  publish  them ;  or,  to 
use  the  language  of  St.  Paul,  can  we  refuse 
to  place  in  the  highest  order  of  virtues  that 
charity  '  which  sufTereth  long  and  is  kind, 
which  vaunteth  not  itself,  which  is  not  puffed 
up,  which  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly, 
seeketh  not  its  own,  is  not  easily  provoked, 
thinketh  no  evil,  rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity, 
beareth,  believeth,  hopeth,  cndureth  all 
things,'  1  Cor.  xiii.  4.  &c.  My  God,  what  a 
description  !  My  God,  how  seldom  is  this 
virtue  practised,  how  little  is  it  understood, 
even  among  Christians  !  Finally,  can  wo 
refuse  to  place  among  the  weightier  matters 
of  the  law,  what  Jesus  Christ  calls  faith, 
that  is,  such  a  rectitude  and  candour  as  all 
the  world  praise,  though  few  practise,  the 
virtue  that  makes  a  man  sincere  in  his  pro- 
fessions, steady  in  his  friendships,  punctual  in 
his  contracts,  faithful  in  all  his  engagements  ? 
Our  attempt,  our  rules  may  serve  to  convince 
you,  that  these  virtues  ought  to  be  placed  in 
the  highest  rank,  and  that  their  places  cannot 
be  supplied  by  a  punctual  payment  of  tithes, 
or  by  any  other  duties  of  the  same  class. 
This  is  so  clear  that  it  is  needless  to  add  any 
thing  more  on  this  article. 

II.  What  Ave  proposed  to  treat  of  in  the 
second  place  demands  a  greater  attention. 
We  engaged  to  unmask  such  of  our  hearers 
as  endeavour  to  acquire  by  the  performance 
of  less  important  duties,  a  right  to  neglect 
other  duties  of  the  highest  cla^s  and  of  the 
utmost  importance.  And  yet  I  have  neither 
time  nor  courage  to  fulfil  this  engagement. 
All  that  the  few  remaining  moments,  all  that 
the  delicacy,  or,  if  I  may  venture  to  use  tiie 
words  of  an  apostle,  all  that  the  '  itching 
ears'  of  our  times  will  allow  me  to  do,  is  to 
set  you  a  task.  This  is  it.  Recollect  our 
rules,  avail  yourselves  of  them  to  enable  you 
to  form  a  just  notion  of  your  state  ;  and  to 
exemplify  in  a  few  articles  what  we  cannot 
fully  investigate,  let  one  avail  himself  of  our 
rules  to  enable  him  to  make  a  just  estimate 
of  the  decency  of  his  outward  deportment ; 
let  another  judge  by  these  of  the  value  of 
those  sacrifices  which  he  has  made  for  re- 
ligion ;  another  of  his  assiduity  in  attending 
public  worship ;  and  another  of  the  encomi- 
imis  which  he  makes  on  the  dead,  and  which 
he  hopes  his  survivors  will  after  his  decease 
make  on  him 


You  are  a  man  of  a  grave  deportment.  All 
the  virtues  seem  painted  in  your  countenance, 
your  eyes  habitually  roll  towards  heaven,  the 
smallest  hiadvertence  oll'ends  and  provokes 
you,  your  mouth  never  opens  but  to  utter 
moral  sentences ;  and  yet  you  are  proud  and 
affronted  at  a  .smile,  a  look,  the  least  indica- 
tion of  incivility  Every  body  knows  you 
are  always  full  of  your  own  importance,  your 
reputation,  your  rank,  and  what  is  still  worse, 
your  virtue.  It  should  seem  you  are  afraid  of 
defiling  yourself  by  touching  other  men,  and 
always  exclaiming  by  your  actions,  if  not  in 
so  many  words,  '  Stand  by  thyself,  com 
not  near  me,  for  I  am  holier  than  thou,'  Isa. 
Ixv.  5.  How  little  progress  soever  we  have 
made  in  the  knowledge  of  the  human  heart, 
and  in  the  art  of  discerning  the  pretences, 
under  which  the  most  haughty  souls  conceal 
their  pride,  it  is  easy  enough  to  see  that  what 
you  esteem  above  all  other  things  is  self  Ah  1 
'  wo  be  to  you  !'  you  '  pay  tithe  of  mint,  anise, 
and  cummin  ;'  but  '  omit  the  weightier  mat- 
ters of  the  huv.'  Do  1  impose  on  you  ?  What 
place  then  does  humility  occupy  in  your  sys- 
tem of  morality  .■"  What  value  do  you  set  up- 
on humility,  that  virtue  of  which  Jesus  Christ 
has  given  you  so  man}-  excellent  descriptions, 
and  so  many  amiable  piodels  ? 

You  have  made  grcnt  sacrifices  for  religion. 
You  have  left  your  coiu.iry  and  your  fortune, 
your  honour  and  your  family,  yea,  your  all,  to 
follow  Jesus  Christ :  y;;t,  were  we  to  judge  of 
your  intention  by  your  actions,  we  should  af- 
firm that  you  followed  him  only  to  have  a 
fairer  opportunity  to  inwult  and  betray  him. 
It  is  notorious  that  you  violate,  without  re- 
morse, the  most  essential  laws  of  that  religion, 
for  the  sake  of  which  you  made  such  noble 
sacrifices.  In  this  exile,  to  wliich  you  volun- 
tarily condemned  3'ourself  for  the  sake  of  re- 
ligion, we  see  you  covetous,  envious,  revenge- 
ful, wearing,  and  glorying  to  wear,  the  livery 
of  the  world.  Ah  !  '  wo  be  to  you  !'  you  pay 
'  tithe  of  mint,  anise,  and  cummin  :'  but  omit 
'  the  v^'eightier  matters  of  the  law.'  I  ask 
again,  do  I  impose  on  you  .''  What  place,  then, 
does  the  practical  part  of  religion  occupy  in 
your  system  .''  Is  Christianity  less  proposed 
to  your  heart  than  to  jour  mind  ?  Is  the  per- 
son from  whom  it  proceeds,  less  jealous  of 
his  precepts  than  of  his  doctrines  ?  Satisfied 
that  his  disciples  '  say  Lord,  Lord,'  is  he  in- 
different whether  they  perform  or  omit  what 
he  commands  ■' 

You  are  assiduous  in  attending  public  wor- 
ship. You  are  scrupulnusly  exact  in  the  per- 
formance of  every  part.  Our  festivals  are 
delicious  days  to  you ;  but  alas !  devotion 
sours  your  temper,  and  you  become  insuffer- 
able as  you  grow  devout.  You  make  your 
friends  martyrs  ;  you  treat  your  children  like 
slaves,  and  your  domestics  like  animals  of  a 
species  different  from  your  own.  You  are 
more  like  a  fury  than  a  man.  Your  house  is 
a  hell,  and  it  seems  as  if  you  came  into  a 
Christian  church  only  to  learn  of  the  God, 
who  is  worshipped  there,  the  art  of  becoming 
a  tormentor  of  mankind.  Ah  !  '  Wo  be  to 
3'ou  !  you  pay  tithe  of  mint,  anise,  and  cum- 
min ;'  but  'you omit  the  weightier  matters  of 
the  law.'  I  ask  again.  Do  I  impose  on  you? 
What  rank,  then,  in  your  system  does  dis- 


384 


GREAT  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION 


[Ser.  XLIII. 


cretion  occupy  r  Where  is  that  spirit  of  pru- 
dence, patience,  gentleness,  and  goodness, 
which  the  inspired  writers  so  often  repeat, 
and  so  powerfully  recommend  in  their  writ- 
ings ? 

You  celebrate  the  praises  of  your  dying 
friend,  and  incessantly  exclaim,  '  How  com- 
fortably he  died  !'  If  you  do  not  go  so  far  as 
to  place  your  departed  friends,  who  in  your 
opinion  died  in  such  a  Christian  manner, 
among  the  number  of  the  gods,  you  do  place 
them  without  scruple  in  the  number  of  the 
saints.  This  sort  of  encomium  is  a  model  of 
that  at  which  you  aspire ;  hence  you  often 
exclaim,  speaking  of  your  good  departed 
friend,  '  Let  me  die  his  death,  and  let  my  last 
end  be  like  his!'  Numb,  xxiii.  10.  When 
you  are  seized  v/ith  any  illness  that  threatens 
your  life,  you  put  on  all  the  exterior  of  reli- 
gion. I  see  one  minister  after  another  sit- 
ting at  your  bed-side.  I  hear  your  constant 
sobs  and  groans.  Here  is  nothing  but  weep- 
ing, and  sighing,  and  holy  ejaculations;  but 
I  stand  listening  to  hear  you  utter  one  other 
word,  that  is,  restitution,  and  that  I  never 
hear.  I  never  hear  you  say,  as  Zaccheus 
said,  '  If  I  have  taken  any  thing  from  any 
man  by  false  accusation,  I  restore  him  four- 
fold,' Luke  xix.  8.  I  never  see  your  colFers 
disgorge  the  riches  you  have  obtained  by 
extortion  ;  you  never  hear,  or  never  feel^  the 
cries  '  of  the  labourers,  which  have  reaped 
down  your  fields,  whose  hire  is  of  you  kept 
back  by  fraud,  the  cries  of  whom  are  entered 
into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sabbaoth,'  James 
V.  4.  You  choose  rather  to  set  at  defiance 
all  those  terrible  judgments  which  God  has 
denounced  against  extortioners  than  to  part 
with  your  idol,  gain  ;  j^ou  would  rather  trans- 
mit your  fortune  under  a  curse  to  your  pos- 
terity than  restore  what  you  and  your  ances- 
tors have  extorted.  Ah  !  '  Wo  be  to  you  ! 
you  pay  tithe  of  mint,  anise,  and  cummin ; 
but  you  omit  the  weightier  matters  of  the  law, 
judgment,  faith,  and  mercy  !' 

My  brethren,  it  is  a  deplorable  thing,  that 
when  we  treat  of  such  an  important  subject 
as  this,  we  are  obliged  to  pay  more  attention 
to  the  delicacy  of  our  hearers  than  to  the 
weight  of  the  subject.  But  in  the  name  of 
God,  do  you  yourselves  finish  the  list  of  those 
articles  which  timidity,  (or,  shall  I  say,  cau- 
tion.'')  forbids  me  to  extend.  Go  up  to  the 
origin  of  that  disposition  which  I  have  been 
opposing.  It  must  proceed  from  one  ni' three 
principles  ;  it  must  come  from  either  narrow- 
ness of  mind,  or  hypocris}',  or  a  criminal 
composition. 

Perhaps  it  may  proceed  from  littleness  of 
mind.  We  arc  enslaved  by  external  appear- 
ance. We  determhie  ourselves  by  semblances 
In  the  world  more  reputation  is  acquned  by 
the  shadow  than  by  the  substance  of  virtue. 
By  habituating  ourselves  to  this  kind  of  impo- 
sition, we  bring  ourselves  to  believe  that  God 
will  suffer  himself  to  be  imposed  on  in  the 
same  manner.  'These  things  hast  thou  done,' 
says  he  by  the  mouth  of  a  prophet,  '  and  thou 
thoughtest  that  I  was  altogether  such  a  one 
as  thyself,'  Ps.  I.  21.  VVe  insensibly  per- 
suade ourselves,  that,  provided  we  hft  our 
eyes  to  heaven,  God  will  think  our  hearts  are 
elevated  thither  ,;    provided  we  kneel  before 


the  throne  of  God,  he  will  think  our  hearts 
bow  with  our  bodies;  provided  we  mutter  a 
ikw  prayers,  God  will  accept  us  as  if  we  form- 
ed ideas  and  performed  acts  of  love.  This  is 
littleness  of  mind. 

Sometimes  it  proceeds  from  hypocrisy. 
Jesus  Christ  repioached  the  Pharisees  with 
this  The  Pharisees  were  attached  to  reli- 
gion no  farther  than  as  it  acquired  them  re- 
putation in  the  world.  But  I  will  not  insist 
on  this  article.  I  freely  acknowledge ,  I  had 
almost  said  I  lament,  that  hypocrisy  is  7iot  the 
vice  of  our  age.  Piety  is  now  so  little  re- 
spected, that  we  need  not  much  suspect  peo- 
ple of  aiming  to  acquire  reputation  by  pro- 
fessing it ;  yea,  perhaps,  it  may  oftener  hap- 
pen that  they  who  really  have  some  degree  of 
it  conceal  it  in  order  to  escape  contempt,  than 
that  others  who  have  none,  affect  to  possess 
it  in  order  to  acquire  public  esteem. 

Sometimes  also  this  disposition  of  mind 
proceeds  from  a  criminal  composition.  We 
have  the  face  to  compound  with  God.  We 
are  willing  to  perforin  the  external  part  of 
religion,  provided  he  will  dispense  with  the 
internal  part :  we  are  ready  to  offer  sacrifices 
provided  he  will  dispense  with  obedience ;  we 
are  willing  to  do  what  costs  our  depravity 
nothing,  or  next  to  nothing,  if  he  will  dis- 
pense with  what  would  cost  it  much. 

Let  us  finish.  One  maxim,  which  I  en- 
treat you  to  retain  in  memory,  is  the  essence 
of  my  subject,  and  the  spring  that  gives  force 
to  all  the  exhortations  which  I  have  address 
ed  to  you  in  the  latter  periods  of  this  dis 
course.  This  maxim  is,  that  a  Christian  is 
obliged  by  his  heavenly  calling,  not  only  to 
practice  all  virtues,  but  to  place  each  in  its 
proper  rank;  to  give  more  application  to  such 
as  merit  more  application,  and  to  give  most 
of  all  to  such  as  require  most  of  all. 

On  this  principle,  what  an  idea  ought  we 
to  form  of  that  mercy  or  benevolence,  which 
my  text  places  among  the  weightier  matters 
of  the  laic  ?  You  have  heard  the  value  of  this 
in  the  body  of  this  discourse.  Such  virtues 
as  have  God  for  their  object  are  more  im- 
portant than  others,  which  have  our  neighbor 
for  their  object.  But  God,  in  order  to  engage 
us  to  benevolence,  has  taught  us  to  consider 
benevolence  to  our  neighbours  as  one  of  the 
surest  evidences  of  our  love  to  himself.  He 
unites  himself  with  the  pool  ;  he  clothes  him 
self,  as  it  were,  with  their  miseiies  ;  and  he 
tells  us,  '  inasmuch  as  ye  do  good  unto  one  of 
the  least  of  these,  ye  do  it  unto  me,'  Matt. 
XXV.  40.  What  a  sublime  idea  !  From  what 
a  fund  of  love  does  such  a  benevolent  decla- 
ration proceed !  And,  at  the  same  tiinCj 
what  a  motive  to  aninsate  us  to  benevolence. 
This  virtue,  to  the  practice  of  which  we 
perpetually  exhort  you,  ought  to  be  extra- 
ordinarily exerted,  my  dear  brethren,  now 
that  God  visits  us  with  a  sort  of  judgment,  I 
mean  the  excessive  rigour  of  this  winter.  It 
is  not  a  judgment  upon  you,  rich  men,  God 
loads  you  with  temporal  blessings;  but  it 
falls  upon  you,  miserable  lobourers,  whose 
hands,  benumbed  with  cold,  are  rendered  in- 
capacle  of  working,  the  only  way  you  have 
of  procuring  a  morsel  of  bread  for  yourselves 
and  your  families  :  upon  you,  poor  old  people, 
struggling  at  the  same  time  against  the  in- 


Skr.  XLIV.] 


SMALL  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


385 


firmities  of  old  age  and  the  rigours  of  the 
season:  upon  you,  innocent  victims  to  hunger 
and  cold,  who  have  no  provision  except  cries 
and  tears,  and  whom  I  see  more  dead  than 
alive  around  a  lire  that  emits  less  heat  than 
smoke:  upon  you,  wretched  sick  people, 
lodged  in  a  hovel  open  on  all  sides  to  the 
weather,  and  destitute  of  both  nourishment 
and  clothing.  Is  it  wrong  to  call  a  cause 
producing  such  tragical  effects  a  judgment  ? 
Must  I  justify  the  term  by  reasons  more  con- 
vincing ;  I  am  ashamed  to  allege  them. 
Without  pretending  to  answer  for  the  fact 
(it  is  an  affair  too  mortifying  for  some  of  us  to 
investigate,)  we  are  assured,  that  some  have 
perished  with  cold.  I  do  not  know  who  is  in 
fault,  but  I  recollect  the  complaint  which  St. 
Paul  addressed  to  the  Corintihians,  when  in- 
cest had  been  committed  in  their  city. 
'  What  I'  said  he,  '  have  ye  heard  of  this  deed, 
and  have  ye  not  covered  yourselves  with 
mourning  ?'  1  Cor.  v.  1,  2.  What,  my  dear 
brethren,  in  a  Christian  society,  do  we  see 
such  events ;  do  we  behold  the  poor  dying 
with  cold,  without  being  touched  in  our  in- 
most souls,  without  inquiring  into  the  cause 
of  such  a  misfortune,  without  applying  pro- 
proper  means  to  prevent  such  things  in  fu- 
ture .' 

With  this  pious  design,  the  dispensers  of 
your  bounty  will  again  humbly  wait  at  the 
door  of  this  church  to  receive  your  charitable 
contributions,  in  order  to  enable  them  to-day 
plentifully  to  supply  the  wants  of  such  as 
perhaps  may  die  to-day,  if  they  be  not  reliev- 1 


ed.  With  the  same  pious  views,  they  have 
besought  the  magistrates  to  grant  them  an 
extraordinary  collection,  and  next  Wednesday 
they  intend  to  conjure  you  by  those  shocking 
objects,  with  which  their  own  minds  are  af- 
fected, and  with  which  they  have  thought  it 
their  duty  to  affect  ours,  to  afford  such  relief 
as  may  be  necessary  to  prevent  the  many 
evils,  with  which  the  remainder  of  the  winter 
yet  threatens  us. 

It  you  accuse  me  of  applying  too  often  to 
you  on  this  subject,  I  answer,  my  importunity 
is  your  glory.  You  have  affectionately  habi- 
tuated me  to  see  you  accessible,  and  myself 
successful,  when  I  speak  to  you  on  subjects 
of  this  kind.  I  hope  I  shall  always  find  you 
the  same  ;  I  hope  you  will  not  be  '  weary  in 
well  doing,'  2  Thess.  ii.  13.  I  hope  the  voice 
of  so  many  wretched  petitioners  as  beseech 
you  by  my  mouth,  will  not  sound  in  vain  in 
this  Christian  assembly.  Hear  it,  you  happy 
natives  of  these  provinces,  whom  God  dis- 
tinguishes by  so  many  favours.  Hear  it,  my 
dear  countrymen,  whom  Heaven  has  enrich- 
ed in  your  exile,  and  who,  after  having  your- 
selves been  a  long  time  in  want  of  assistance 
are  now  so  able  to  assist  others.  Hear  it, 
generous  strangers,  who  sometimes  mi.\  your 
devotions  with  those  which  we  offer  to  God 
in  this  house ;  contribute  to  our  charities, 
and  share  with  us  the  blessings  which  they 
procure.  God  grant  us  all  grace  to  do  his 
will.  To  the  Father,  to  the  Son,  and  to  the 
Holy  Ghost,  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever. 
Amen. 


SERMON     XLIV. 


THE  SMALL  DUTIES  OE  RELIGION. 


Matthew  xxiii.  23. 

JVo  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  I  for  ye  pay  tithe  of  mint, 
anise,  and  cummin,  and  have  omitted  the  weightier  matters  of  the  law, 
judgment,  mercy,  and  faith :  these  ought  ye  to  have  done,  and  not  to  leave 
the  other  undone. 


In  Older  to  form  a  just  notion  of  the  little  du- 
ties of  religion,  of  which  we  are  about  to' 
treat,  we  must  avoid  a  disposition  to  fastidi- 
ous nicety,  and  an  inclination  to  panics  or 
groundlea  fears. 

Nothing  is  more  opposite  to  the  genius  O' 
religion  than  whut  I  call  a  fastidious  nicety, 
a  sort  of  trifling  spirit.  It  is  incompatible 
with  the  greatness  of  God,  whom  we  serve, 
and  the  excellence  of  rational  creatures,  to 
whom  religion  is  proposed.  It  is  inconsistent, 
too,  with  the  importance  of  those  engagements 
to  which  the  gospel  calls  us,  and  with  the 
magnitude  of  those  objects  which  it  proposes 
to  our  faith. 

What  condemns  a  trifling  spirit  censures  also 
an  inclination  to  groundless  fears.  For  exam- 
ple, a  Christian  seriously  prepares  himself  for 


the  Lord's  supper  ;  when  he  partakes  of  it,  a 
wandering  thought  ahirms  him,  and  he  is  filled 
with  terror,  as  if  he  had  committed  a  high 
crime  against  God.  But  can  we  imagine,  that 
God  is  setting  snares  lor  us,  while  he  is  giving 
us  tokens  of  his  love. ^  Who  can  presume  to 
approach  the  table  of  the  Lord,  I  do  not  say 
worthily,  but  possibly,  if  there  were  any 
ground  f9r  such  panics  as  these  .''  Do  you 
think  you  do  honour  to  God,  by  attributing 
to  him  a  turn  for  such  comparatively  insigni- 
ficant niceties  (forgive  the  expression,  I  can- 
not convey  my  meaning  without  it),  a  dispo- 
sition, I  think,  which  you  would  hardly  sup- 
pose in  a  sensible  man .'  Can  you  suppose 
that  God  loves  you  with  less  wisdom,  and  less 
condescension,  than  you  love  your  children  ^ 
\  Far  from  us  be  such  odious  thoughts !     Re- 


386 


SMALL  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


[Ser.  XLIV. 


member,  '  the  spirit  which  ye  have  received, 
is  not  a  spirit  of  bondage  to  fear ;  but  a  spirit 
of  adoption,'  Rom.  viii.  15.  Remember,  ye 
are  '  not  children  of  the  bond  woman  ;  but  of 
the  free,'  Gal.  iv,  31.  'Stand  fast  then  in 
that  inestimable  liberty  wherewithChrist  hath 
made  you  free,'  chap.  v.  1.  'Give  of  such 
things  as  ye  have,  and  behold  all  things  are 
clean  unto  you,'  Luke  xi.  41.  Be  fully  per- 
suaded that  in  a  religion  of  love,  love  excuses 
much  infirmity,  and  sets  a  value  on  seemingly 
inconsiderable  actions,  which  appear  to  have 
only  a  very  remote  connexion  with  the  dispo- 
sition whence  they  pi-oceed. 

In  what,  then,  you  will  ask,  consist  what 
we  call  small  or  little  duties  ?  What  are  the 
*  less  weighty  things  of  law,'  which  Jesus 
Christ  says  we  '  ought  not  to  leave  undone,' 
after  we  'have  done  the  more  weighty  things?' 
My  brethren,  the  duties  of  which  we  speak 
to-day,  ought  not  to  be  accounted  Utile,  ex- 
cept when  they  are  compared  with  other  du- 
ties, which  are  of  greater  importance  ;  and, 
as  we  said  last  Lord's  day,  because  tliey  are 
consequences  more  remote  from  original  pri- 
mitive right.  However,  though  little  duties 
do  not  proceed  so  directly  and  immediately  as 
great  duties  do,  yet  do  they  proceed  from  the 
same  origin  ;  and  though  they  are  not  the  first 
links  of  the  chain  of  Christian  virtues  yet 
Ihey  are  as  truly  connected  with  the  origin  as 
the  first. 

Choose  of  the  list  of  moral  virtues  any  one 
that  seems  the  least  important  and  I  will  justi- 
fy my  idea  of  it.  For  instance,  to  be  affable 
and  accessible,  to  give  attention  to  the  tiresome 
tale  of  a  tedious  fellow-Christian  in  some 
difiiculty,  this  is  one  of  the  very  least  duties 
that  we  can  enjoin  you,  this  is  one  of  the 
'less  weighty  matters  of  the  law.'  Who 
■will  pretend  to  compare  this  with  what  you 
ought  to  do  for  this  man  in  other  cases  ?  You 
ought  to  supply  his  wants  when  he  is  on  a  sick 
bed,  to  defiend  his  reputation  when  it  is  at- 
tacked, to  support  and  provide  for  his  family 
when  it  falls  to  decay.  This  first  little  duty, 
however,  small  as  it  may  appear,  proceeds 
from  the  same  principle  of  primitive  law  as 
the  last  great  duties  do.  This  law  is  express- 
ed in  these  words,  '  All  things  whatsoever  ye 
Would  that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ve 
even  so  to  them,'  Matt.  vii.  12.  Would 
any  one  of  you  be  convinced  of  this .'  Put 
j'ourselves  in  the  place  of  this  man,  Suppose 
a  person  elevated  as  much  above  you  as  you 
pretend  to  be  above  him,  would  it  not  mortify 
you  if  he  either  refused  to  hear  you  at  all, 
or  gave  you  only  a  careless  negligent  au- 
dience i"  Let  each  of  you  my  brethren,  en- 
large this  thought,  and  by  applying  it  to  him- 
self let  him  juilge  whether  my  proposition  be 
not  sufficiently  clear. 

I  carry  my  proposition  farther  still.  I  affirm, 
not  only  that  there  is  no  duty  so  small  in  the 
moral  law  as  not  to  proceed  from  primitive 
original  right,  but  that  God  never  prescribed 
an  observance  so  insignificant  in  the  ceremonial 
law  as  not  to  proceed  from  the  same  origin. 
'Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart,'  Deut.  vi.  5,  this  is  the  first  princi- 


ple of  primitive  law.  If  we  ought  to  love 
God  with  all  our  hearts,  we  ought  carefully 
to  observe  all  the  means  which  he  has  ap- 
pointed to  cherish  this  love.  Now,  these 
means  vary  according  to  the  various  circum- 
stances in  which  they  to  whom  the  means 
are  prescribed  may  be.  A  worship  charged 
with  ceremonies  would  serve  only  to  extin- 
guish emotions  of  love,  if  prescribed  to  people 
in  some  conditions  ;  yet  the  same  sort  of  wor- 
ship would  inflame  the  love  of  other  people 
in  diflferent  circumstances.  The  Jews  were 
in  the  last  case.  Born  and  brought  up  in  sla- 
very, employed,  as  they  were,  in  manual  oc- 
cupations, they  would  have  been  destitute  of 
all  ideas  under  an  economy  without  ceremo- 
nies. Surrounded  with  idolatrous  nations,  and 
naturally  inclined,  as  they  were,  to  idolatry, 
it  was  necessary,  in  order  to  prevent  their  co- 
pying such  wretched  examples,  to  which  they 
had  strong  propensities  and  inducements,  I 
say,  it  was  necessary,  if  I  may  venture  to 
speak  so,  not  to  give  them  opportunity  to 
breathe,  to  keep  tliem  constantly  employed  in 
some  external  action,  every  moment  of  the 
time  devoted  to  religion. 

Christians, I  allow,  are  in  circumstatces  al- 
together different.  A  mass  of  ceremonies 
would  serve  only  to  veil  the  beauty  of  that 
God,  whom  '  no  man  had  seen  at  any  time' 
before  the  advent  of  Christ,  and  whom  '  the 
only  begotten  Son,  which  is  in  the  bosom  of 
the  Father,  hath  declared,' John  i.  18.  What- 
ever contributes  to  the  concealment  of  the 
perfections  of  this  God,  damps  that  !ove  which 
a  contemplation  of  them  inspires.  Yet,  as  we 
are  full  of  infirmities  on  this  earth,  we  want 
a  few  signs  to  produce  and  cherish  in  us  the 
love  of  God,  Where  is  the  man  who  is  ca- 
pable of  a  devotion  all  disengaged  from  sense  ? 
Who  can  fix  his  eyes  immediately  on  •  the 
sun  of  righteousness  ?'  Mai,  iv.  2.  Where 
is  the  man  who  is  capable  of  such  abstract 
meditations  and  pure  emotions  as  constitute  the 
worship  of  angels  and  seraphim .''  Alas  !  my 
soul,  how  difficult  is  recollection  to  thee,  even 
with  all  the  assistance  of  a  religious  ceremo- 
nial !  How  hard  dost  thou  find  it  to  maintain 
a  spirit  of  devotion  even  in  this  place,  in  this 
concourse  of  people,  with  all  these  voices,  and 
with  those  ordinances  which  are  appointed 
for  the  maintenance  of  it  !  What  wouldst 
thou  do,  wert  thou  left  to  thine  own  medita- 
tions only,  to  practise  a  piety  altogether 
spiritual,  and  free  from  external  action  ? 

Let  us  finish  this  article.  The  least  impor- 
tant parts  of  ceremonial  worship,  as  well  as 
the  least  virtues  of  morality,  which  we  call 
little  duties,  or  the  'less  weighty  matters  of 
the  law,'  proceed  from  primitive  law,  by 
consequences  more  remote,  but  as  real  as 
those  of  the  most  important  duties. 

What  we  have  been  saying  of  the  nature  of 
little  duties,  demonstrates  the  obligation  of 
them.  They  all  proceed  from  primitive  law. 
You  cannot,  therefore,  neglect  the  perform- 
aiicp  of  them,  without  confining  what  ought 
to  be  infinite. 

But  tnis  is  too  vague.  We  will  treat  of  the 
subject  more  at  large,  and  in  order  to  enable 


Ser.  XLIV.] 


SMALL  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


387 


you  more  fully  to  perceive  your  obligation  to 
Utile  duties,  I  will  speak  of  them  in  four  dif- 
ferent views,  each  of  which  will  open  a  field 
of  reflections. 

I.  They  contribute  to  maintain  a  tenderness 
of  conscience. 

II.  They  are  sources  of  re-conversion  after 
great  falls. 

III.  They  make  up  by  their  frequency 
what  is  wantino;  to  their  importance. 

IV.  They  have  sometimes  characters  as 
certain  of  real  love  as  the  great  duties 
have. 

Now,  my  brethren,  whatever  engages  us 
to  the  performance  of  little  duties,  must  pre- 
serve us  from  the  commission  of  what  the 
world  calls  little  sins.  This  is  all  I  have  to 
propose  to  you  at  present. 

I.  ^n  exact  performance  of  little  duties 
maintains  teyiderness  of  conscience.  By  con- 
seience  I  mean  that  instant,  and  in  some  sort, 
involuntary  approbation  of  our  own  conduct, 
when  we  discharge  our  obligations,  and  that 
sentence  of  condemnation  which  we  cannot 
help  denouncing  against  ourselves,  whenever 
We  are  so  unhappy  as  to  violate  them.  In 
the  language  of  St.  Paul,  it  is  '  the  work  of 
the  law  written  in  our  hearts,  our  thoughts 
accusing  or  else  excusing  one  another,'  Rom. 
ii.  13. 

Conscience,  considered  in  this  point  of  light, 
is  the  same  in  our  souls  in  regard  to  salvation 
as  the  senses  are  in  our  bodies  in  regard  to 
health  and  life.  The  ofiBce  of  our  senses  is 
to  inform  us,  by  the  short  method  of  sensation, 
of  whatever  may  be  hurtful  or  beneficial  to 
our  bodies.  If  when  any  exterior  body  ap- 
proached us,  we  were  always  obliged  to  mea- 
sure its  size,  to  examine  its  configuration,  to 
judge  by  the  laws  of  motion,  action,  and  re- 
action, whether  its  approach  would  be  hurtful 
or  beneficial  to  us,  our  frail  machine  would  be 
crushed  to  atoms  before  we  could  finish  the 
discussion.  If  it  were  necessary  always  be- 
fore we  took  any  nourishment,  to  examine 
the  nature  of  the  aliments  before  us,  to  un- 
derstand the  properties  and  efiects  of  th?m, 
we  should  die  with  hunger  before  we  had  fin- 
ished our  researches.  God  has  enabled  the 
senses  of  our  bodies  to  supply  the  place  of  te- 
dious discussions.  This  beautiful  economy  is 
never  disconcerted  except  when  our  bodies  arc 
disordered. 

It  is  exactly  the  same  in  regard  to  con- 
science. If  always  when  it  was  necessary  to 
determine  the  morality  of  an  action,  wp  were 
obliged  to  turn  over  a  large  class  of  books,  to 
consult  our  casuists,  and  to  examine  a  whole 
system  of  rectitude,  what  would  become  of 
us .'  The  short  way  of  sentiment  supplies  the 
place  of  all  this  discussion.  A  sudden  horror, 
excited  by  the  idea  of  a  crime  which  we  are 
tempted  to  commit,  a  secret  joy,  excited  by 
the  idea  of  a  virtue,  which  we  are  going  «o 
practise,  are,  in  urgent  cases,  systems,  books, 
and  casuists  to  us.  When  we  lose  this  moral 
sense,  we  loose  our  best  guide,  and  are  then 
exposed  to  an  infallible  misery  of  proceedini 
from  one  error  to  another,  from  a  first  perni- 


cious practice  to  a  second,  and  so  in  the  end  to 
a  gulf  of  final  wretchedness. 

Such  being  the  design  of  conscience,  the  end 
for  which  God  has  appointed  it,  we  can  never 
be  too  diligent  to  avoid  those  things  which  im- 
pair it,  as,  on  the  other  hand,  we  can  never  ap- 
ply ourselves  too  eagerly  to  such  practices  as 
contribute  to  improve  and  perfect  it.  Now,  I 
affirm,  that  the  first  of  these  effects  is  produced 
by  allowing  ourselves  to  commit  little  sins,  and 
the  second  by  an  exact  performance  of  little 
duties. 

The  commission  of  little  sins  leads  on  to  the 
perpetration  of  great  crimes ;  and  we  cannot 
assure  ourselves  that  we  should  religiously 
practise  great  virtues,  unless  we  scrupulously 
discbarge  other  obligations  comparatively 
small.  Of  the  many  examples  which  present 
themselves  to  my  mind,  which  shall  I  select  to 
elucidate  this  subject  ?  Where  originate  the 
vexations  caused  by  those  publick  robbers, 
who  are  the  scourge  of  many  a  country  >  In 
a  neglect  of  small  virtues,  in  a  practising  of 
what  are  called  little  sins.  At  first  the  man 
transgressed  in  a  small  degree  the  laws  of  fru- 
gality and  modesty.  Not  content  with  a  con- 
venient  situation,  he  aspired  to  make  a  figure. 
His  table  became  in  his  eyes  too  plain,  he 
wished  it  might  be  furnished,  not  as  formerly 
with  plenty,  but  with  taste  and  expensive  de-  / 
licacy.  To  compass  these  designs,  he  was  ob- 
liged to  exceed  his  income.  His  lawful  in- 
come not  being  sufficient,  he  supplied  his  pres- 
sing necessities  by  means  which  at  first  sight 
seemed  not  very  blamable  :  he  borrowed  mo- 
ney. After  some  time  his  creditor  became 
troublesome,  at  length  formidable ;  at  first  he 
solicited,  at  last  he  threatened.  The  wretched 
debtor  a  while  thought  he  must  deliver  him- 
self up  to  his  creditor;  at  length  he  saw  him- 
self reduced  to  the  necessity  either  of  retrench- 
ing his  expenses,  or  of  transgressing  a  little  the 
maxims  of  severe  equity :  he  determined  on 
the  last,  and  availed  himself  of  the  property 
of  others  for  whom  he  was  in  trust,  intending, 
however,  to  replace  it  the  first  opportunity. 
Such  an  opportunity  never  happened ;  and  the 
same  motives  that  induced  him  to  begin  this 
vicious  course  of  action  engages  him  to  perse- 
vere in  it.  Hence  comes  his  venality,  hence 
his  public  frauds,  hence  his  base  inclination  to 
make  sale  of  both  church  and  state  whenever 
he  can  find  purchasers  to  come  up  to  his  price. 

There  is  a  virtue  which  we  cannot  fully 
treat  of  without  danger.  To  enforce  the  prac- 
tice of  some  virtue  is  sometimes  to  excite  a  dis- 
position to  violate  it.  To  describe  exactly  the 
dangers  which  must  be  avoided  by  those  who 
would  practise  the  virtue  of  which  I  now 
speak,  would  be  to  increase  the  number  of  de- 
linquents. But  whence,  think  ye,  come  the 
utmost  excesses  of  voluptuousness,  and  the 
enorm  lus  crimes  which  its  votaries  have  been 
capable  of  perpetrating,  in  order  to  cover  the 
scandal  of  having  yielded  to  it?  Both  proceed 
from  a  neglect  of  little  duties  and  a  commis- 
f  ion  of  little  sins.  I  will  here  borrow  the  lan- 
guage of  the  most  eloquent  and  polite  writer 
of  his  time.    '  Voluptuousness  at  first  is  no- 


tj88 


SMALL  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


[Ser.  XLIV. 


thing  but  an  unintentional  curiosity.  It  pro- 
ceeds from  an  affection  apparently  lawful.  A 
little  worldly  complaisance  mixes  with  it. 
The  mind  by  little  and  little  turns  to  its  ob- 
ject;  the  heart  softens  and  dissolves.  Means 
to  please  are  sought.  Inquietude  follows  and 
presses.  Sight  kindles  desire.  Desire  en- 
gages to  see.  Certain  vague  wishes,  at  first 
not  perceived,  form  themselves  in  the  soul. 
Hence  criminal  familiarities,  scandalous  in- 
trigues, continual  agitations,  and  all  the  other 
consequences  of  a  passion,  fatal,  restless,  and 
unsatisfied,  whether  it  be  gratified  or  not.'* 

So  true  is  what  we  have  affirmed,  that,  by 
neglecting  the  least  virtues,  we  acquire  a  ha- 
bit of  neglecting  others  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance. So  true  is  it,  that  we  prepare  our- 
selves to  practise  the  greatest  crimes,  by  prac- 
tising what  are  called  little  sins.  We  conclude, 
then,  that  exactness  in  performing  little  duties 
cherishes  tenderness  of  conscience.  This  is 
our  first  reflection. 

II.  We  affirm,  in  the  second  place,  that 
small  duties  are  sources  of  re-conversion  after 
great  falls.  Some  passages  of  Scripture  have 
occasioned  a  difficult  case  of  conscience,  which 
is  this:  Is  the  practise  of  little  duties  altogether 
useless  to  those  who  neglect  great  ones  ;  and, 
all  things  considered,  would  it  not  be  better  for 
a  man  who  neglects  the  important  obligations, 
to  omit  the  performance  of  small  duties,  than 
practice  the  last,  while  he  neglects  the  first  ? 
This  question  rises  out  of  these  passages, 
'  To  what  purpose  is  the  multitude  of  your 
sacrifices  to  me  ?  sailh  the  Lord.  I  am  full 
of  the  burnt-offering  of  rams,  and  the  fat  of 
fed  beasts,  and  I  delight  not  in  the  blood  of 
bullocks,  or  of  lambs,  or  of  he  goats.  When 
ye  come  to  appear  before  me,  who  hath  re- 
quired this  at  your  hand  to  tread  my  courts  ^ 
Bring  no  more  vain  oblations,  incense  is  an 
abomination  unto  me,  the  new  moons  and  sab- 
baths, the  calling  of  assemblies,  I  cannot  away 
with,'  Isa.  i.  11 — 13,  'The  sacrifice  of  the 
wicked  is  an  abomination  to  the  Lord,'  Prov. 
XV.  8  '  1  spake  not  unto  your  fathers  in  the  day 
that  I  brought  them  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt 
concerning  burnt  offerings  and  sacrifices ;  but 
this  thing  commanded  I  them,  saying.  Obey 
my  voice,'  Jer.  vii.  22,  23.  'He  that  killeth 
an  ox,  is  as  if  he  slew  a  man  ;  he  that  sa- 
crificeth  a  lamb,  as  if  he  had  cut  off  a 
dog's  neck  ;  he  that  offereth  an  oblation,  as  if 
he  offered  swine's  blood  ;  he  that  luirncth  in- 
cense, as  if  he  blessed  an  idol,'  Isa.  Ixvi.  3. 
•Unto  the  wicked,  saith  God,  What  hast  thou  to 
do  to  declare  thy  statutes,  or  that  thou  shouldest 
take  thy  covenant  in  thy  mouth?     Ps.  1    16. 

These  passages,  which  might  be  easily  mul- 
tiplied, seem  to  determine  the  question  that 
was  just  now  proposed,  and  to  establish  the 
opinion  of  those  who  affirm,  that  men  ought 
either  to  leave  off  the  practice  of  small  du- 
ties, if  they  determine  to  neglect  great  obliga- 
tions, or  to  perform  great  obligations  if  they 
continue  to  practise  small  duties.  There  are, 
however,  some  celebrated  casuists,  whose  mo- 


•Flprhier.  Panecvr.  de  St.  Bernard. 


rality  in  some  cases  may  deserve  censure,  al- 
though they  are  not  censured  at  Rome,  ex- 
cept for  what  merits  applause;  these  casuists, 
I  say,  have  decided  the  question  differently, 
and  I  cannot  help  submitting  to  their  reasons. 
I  have  more  hope  of  a  man  who  attends  pub- 
lic worship,  though  he  derive  no  advantage 
from  it,  than  of  him  who  has  resolved  for 
ever  to  absent  himself.  I  have  more  hope  of 
a  man  who  performs  only  the  most  superficial 
parts  of  the  laws  of  benevolence,  than  of  him 
who  resolves  to  violate  those,  and  all  the  rest 
too.  I  have  more  hope  of  him  who  suspends 
the  exercise  of  bis  passions  only  the  day  be- 
fore and  the  day  after  his  participation  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  than  of  him  who  excommuni- 
cates himself  and  his  whole  family  for  ever. 
I  have  more  reason  to  hope  for  him  who,  hav- 
ing made  great  sacrifices  for  the  doctrines  of 
religion,  violates  the  precepts  of  it,  than  for 
him  who  both  violates  the  precepts  and  ab- 
jures the  doctrines.  Not  tliat  I  alnrm,  either 
that  it  is  sufficient  to  perform  small  duties 
while  we  persist  in  a  neglect  of  great  obliga- 
tions, or  that  the  performance  of  the  former 
is  not  detestable  when  we  perform  them  care- 
lessly and  hypocritically.  This  I  think  is  the 
l^ey  of  the  passages  just  now  quoted.  These 
small  duties  are  remains  of  spiritual  life  in 
such  as  practise  them  ;  dying  remains,  I  al- 
low, but  precious  remains,  however  ;  and  the 
state  of  these  people  is  preferable  to  the  con- 
dition of  the  other  persons  in  question,  whom 
death  has  enveloped  in  its  dismal  shade.  Pre- 
serve, carefully,  preserve  these  precious  re- 
mains, whatever  just  grounds  of  fear  of  your 
salvation  may  accompany  them.  Do  not  ex- 
tinguish this  iv'iek,  though  it  only  smokes.  Matt, 
xii.  20.  Perhaps  an  idea  of  the  sacrifices 
which  you  have  made  for  the  doctrines  of  re- 
ligion, may  incline  you  at  last  to  submit  to  the 
precepts  of  it.  Perhaps  self-examination,  su- 
perficial as  it  is,  preparatory  to  the  Lord's 
Supper,  may  at  some  time  or  other  lead  you 
into  reflections  more  deep  and  serious.  Pos- 
sibly, the  sermons  which  now  you  attend  only 
to  satisfy  some  transient  emotions  of  con- 
science, may  in  the  end  arouse  your  consciences 
effectually. 

III.  Small  duties  compensate  by  their  repeti- 
tion, for  ivhal  is  wanting  to  their  importance. 
We  are  not  called  every  day  to  make  great 
sacrifices  to  order  ;  we  are  seldom  required  to 
set  up  the  standard  of  the  cross  in  barbarous 
climes,  to  sound  the  gospel  to  the  ends  of  the 
world,  and  to  accomplish  the  promises  made  to 
Jesus  Christ,  that  he  should  have  the  heathen 
for  !iis  inheritance,  and  tlie  uttermost  parts  of 
the  earth  for  his  possession,'  Ps.  ii.  8.  Seldom 
are  we  called  to  dare  executioners,  to  triumph 
in  cruel  sufferings  and  di^alb,  to  confess  Christ 
amidst  fires  and  llames.  We  are  rarely  called 
to  the  great  actions  that  make  heroes ;  to  die 
for  our  neighbours  ;  to  sacrifice  ourselves  for 
the  public  good  ;  and  to  devote  ourselves  for 
our  country. 

If  we  are  seldom  required  to  perform  great 
duties,  thanks  be  to  God  we  ai"e  seldom  tempt- 
ed to  commit  great  crimes,  to  deceive  a  friend. 


JKB.  XLIV.J 


SMALL  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


389 


to  betray  a  trust,  to  reveal  a  state-secret, 
to  make  a  sale  of  justice,  to  perplex  truth, 
or  to  persecute  innoconce.  But  in  what 
moment  of  each  day  do  we  not  meet  with 
opportunities  to  commit  little  sins,  and  to  per- 
form duties  of  comparatively  small  impor- 
tance ? 

Are  you  confined  at  home  ?  You  have  lit- 
tle inconveniencies  to  suffer,  litle  perverse  hu- 
mours to  bear  with,  little  provocations  to 
impatience  to  resist,  little  disgusts  to  en- 
dure. 

Are  you  in  company?  You  have  a  few 
captious  tempers  to  manage,  idle  reports  to 
discountenance,  a  few  pernicious  maxims  to 
combat,  profane  actions  to  censure;  some- 
times you  are  obliged  to  resist  iniquity  bold- 
ly, and  at  other  times  to  affect  to  tolerate  it, 
in  order  to  obtain  an  opportunity  to  oppose  it 
on  a  future  opportunity  with  greater  probabi- 
lity of  success. 

Do  you  prosper  ?  What  a  source  of  little 
duties  is  prosperity,  if  we  sincerely  love  vir- 
tue? And  what  a  source  of  little  sins,  if  we 
are  not  always  guarded  against  temptations  to 
vice?  Now  a  little  air  of  self-sufficiency  in- 
clines to  solitude,  then  a  little  eagerness  to 
shine  impels  to  society.  Here  a  little  necessa- 
ry expense  must  be  incurred,  there  another 
expense  must  be  avoided.  Here  something 
is  due  to  rank,  and  must  be  observed,  there 
rank  would  be  disgraced,  and  something  inust 
be  omitted. 

Are  you  in  adversity,  under  misfortunes,  or 
sickness?  How  many  miserable  comforters.' 
How  many  disgustful  remedies  !  What  in- 
tolerable wearinesses!  So  many  articles,'so 
many  oconsions  to  perform  little  duties,  and  to 
commit  little  sins. 

Opportunities  to  commit  little  sins  return 
every  d^y,  I  may  almost  say,  every  moment 
of  every  day.  A  little  sin  is  a  little  poison, 
slow  indeed,  but  continually  insinuating  itt^elf 
into  the  soul,  till  by  degrees  it  issues  in  death. 
A  man  who  does  not  'watcli  against  little  sins, 
is  liable  tc  provoke  God  as  often  as  an  occa- 
sion to  commit  them  (.resents  itself.  On  the 
contrary,  a  man  who  makes  conscience  of 
practising  little  duties  as  well  as  great  ones, 
finds  every  day,  and  every  moment,  oppor- 
tunities of  giving  God  proofs  of  his  love.  He 
has  only  a  religion  of  times  and  circumstances, 
which  is  sometimes  justly  suspected,  but  a  re- 
ligion of  influence  that  diffuses  itself  into  eve- 
ry part  of  his  life.  There  is  not  a  moment  in 
which  he  does  not  make  some  progress  in  his 
heavenly  course.  By  his  attention  to  every 
little  duty,  he  discharges  the  greatest  of  all 
duties,  that  which  St.  Paul  prescribes  to  all 
Christians.  '  Whether  ye  eat  or  drink,  or 
whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God,' 
1  Cor.  X.  31.  He  is  an  exact  imitator  of  Je- 
sus Christ,  '  the  author  and  finisher  of  his 
faith,  who  went  about  doing  good,  Ileb.  xii. 
2,  like  him  he  can  say,  '  I  have  set  the  Lord 
always  before  me  ;  because  he  is  at  my  right 
hand  I  shall  never  be  moved,'  Ps.  xvi.  8. 
Had  I  not  reason  to  affirm,  that  little  duties 
compensate,  by  the  frequency  of   their  re- 

3  D 


turn,  for  what  is  wantiug  to  constitute  their 
importance  f 

IV.  Our  third  reflection  leads  us  to  a  fourtli. 
Little  duties  have  sometimes  characters  more 
evident  of  real  lone  to  God,  than  the  most  im- 
portant duties.  If  hypocrisy,  if  false  ideas  of 
religion,  sometimes  produce  little  duties,  it 
must  be  allowed,  that  secular  motives,  interest, 
and  vain-glory,  sometimes  give  birth  to  great 
exploits.  PriUe  without  any  mixture  of  love 
to  order,  is  sometimes  sufficient  to  engage  us 
to  make  those  grent  sacrifices  of  which  we  just 
now  spoke.  Sometimes  nothing  but  an  ex- 
treme and  refined  attachment  to  virtue  can 
animate  us  to  perform  little  duties.  There  is 
sometimes  more  genuine  benevolence  in  ac- 
cepting such  tokens  of  gratitude  as  a  poor  man 
gives  for  a  favour  conferred  on  him  than  in 
conferring  tlie  favour  itself.  There  is  some- 
times more  humility  in  receiving  the  praise 
from  a  man  whose  esteem  flatters  our  vanity 
a  little,  than  in  refusing;  to  hear  it.  After  all, 
though  the  love  of  God  diflers  in  many  respects 
from  mere  worldly  esteem,  yet  there  are  some 
resemblances.  We  often  think  ourselves  obli- 
ged to  render  considerable  services  to  people 
for  whom  we  have  no  great  regard  ;  but  it  is 
only  for  such  as  we  hold  in  the  highest  vene- 
ration that  we  feel  certain  little  attachments, 
certain  little  attentions,  certain  solicitudes, 
which  indeed  are  called  little  in  the  usual 
phrase,  but  which  are  strong  demonstrations 
of  the  tender  sentiments  of  the  soul.  It  is 
just  the  same  with  divine  love.  But  this  is 
one  of  those  truths  of  sentiment  and  experi- 
ence, which  each  of  you  may  understand  bet- 
ter by  consulting  the  history  of  his  own  life, 
and  by  watching  the  motions  ot  his  own  heart, 
than  by  attending  to  our  syllogisms  and  dis- 
cussions. 

Perhaps  you  may  imagine  God  cannot,  with- 
out debasing  his  Majesty,  cast  his  eyes  on 
those  insignificant  actions  which  we  are  recom- 
mending to  you.  But  undeceive  yourselves. 
What  could  be  less  considerable  than  those 
two  mites  which  the  poor  widow  in  the  gospel 
cast  into  the  treasury?  Mark  xii.  42.  Yet 
we  know  what  Jesus  Christ  thought  of  that 
action.  What  service  less  considerable  could 
be  rendered  Jesus  C'hrist  just  before  his  death, 
than  to  pour  ointment  on  his  head?  The 
apostles  had  indignation  within  themselves  at 
this  unseasonable  ceremony,  chap  xiv.  13,  &c. 
They  were  angry  with  the  woman  for  divert- 
ing the  attention  of  Jesus  Christ  from  those 
great  objects  with  which  his  whole  soul  had 
been  filled.  But  he  reproved  them,  'Why 
trouble  ye  the  woman  ?'  said  he  ;  she  has  per- 
formed an  action  worthy  of  emulation.  '  Ve- 
rily I  say  unto  you,  wheresoever  this  gospel 
shall  be  preached  throughout  the  whole 
world,  this  also  that  she  hath  done  shall  be 
spoken  of,  for  a  memorial  of  her.  What  can 
be  less  considerable  in  itself  than  «  cup  of 
cold  water  ?  Yet  Jesus  Christ  promises  to  re- 
ward even  this  with  eternal  life,  when  it  is 
given  from  a  principle  of  real  piety.  We 
said  before,  my  brethren,  and  allow  us  to  re- 
peat it  again,  in  a  religion  of  love,  whatever 


390 


SMALL  DUTIES  OF  RELIGION. 


[Ser.  XLIV. 


proceeds  from  a  principle  of  love  has  an  in- 
trinsic value. 

I  unite  now  the  subjects  of  both  the  dis- 
courses, which  I  have  addressed  to  you,  on  the 
words  of  my  text,  and,  by  collecting  both  into 
one  point  of  view,  I  ask,  What  idea  ought  you 
to  form  of  a  religion  which  exhibits  a  morality 
so  pure  and  complete?  What  idea  of  the 
preacliin»  of  those  ministers,  who  are  called 
to  instruct  you  in  it  ?  What  idea  of  the  ena;age- 
ments  of  such  disciples  as  profess  to  submit  to 
the  discipline  of  it? 

What  idea  ought  you  to  form  of  a  religion 
that  prescribes  a  morality  so  pure  and  com- 
plete? The  Christian  religion  requires  each 
of  us  to  form,  as  well  as  he  can,  just  notions  of 
primitive  law  :  to  observe  all  the  consequences. 
and  to  place  each  virtue  that  proceeds  from 
primitive  right,  in  its  just  order;  to  give  the 
first  rank  to  those  virtues  which  immediately 
proceed  from  it,  and  the  second  to  !  hose  wh  ch 
proceed  from  it  mediately  i»nd  remotely. 
Christianity  requires  us  to  regulate  our  appli- 
cation to  each  virtue,  by  the  place  which  each 
occupies  in  this  scale  ;  to  set  no  bounds  to  the 
loving  of  that  God,  whosK  perfections  are  infi- 
nite ;  to  entertain  only  a  limited  esteem  for  fi- 
nite creatures  ;  to  engage  our  senses  in  devout 
exercises,  but  to  take  care  that  they  are  held 
under  government  by  our  minds  ;  to  sing  the 
praises  of  the  Lord  with  our  voices,  but  ani- 
mated with  our  affections  ;  in  short  to  look  to- 
wards heaven,  but  to  let  inward  fervour 
produce  the  emotion,  determine  the  direction, 
and  fix  the  eye. 

How  amiable  would  society  be,  if  they  who 
compose  It  were  all  followers  of  this  religion  ! 
How  happy  would  it  be  to  make  treaties,  to 
form  alliances,  to  unite  ourselves,  by  the  most 
affectionate  and   indissoluble  ties,  to  men  in 


'■  the  things  which  belong  unto  your  everlast- 
ing peace,'  Luke  xlx.  42,  and  to  give  you 
such  directions  as  you  may  follow,  as  far  as 
can  be  in  the  tumult  of  the  world,  whither 
either  your  inclinations  or  your  necessities 
call  you  ? 

My  brethren,  while  I  was  meditating  on  my 
text  two  methods  of  discusshig  it  presented 
themselves  to  my  mind. 

Following  the  first  of  these  plans,  I  divided 
my  discourse  into  three  parts,  according  to  the 
three  parts,  that  is,  the  three  different  herbs 
mentioned  in  the  text.  Each  of  these  parts  I 
subdivided  into  three  more.  First,  I  examined 
the  force,  the  signification,  the  derivation  of 
the  original  term,  and  I  inquired  whether  the 
word  were  rightly  ren<iered  mint.  I  quoted 
various  opinions  on  this  subject,  for  interpre- 
ters are  very  much  divided  about  it.  Accord- 
ing to  the  Ethiopie  version.  Jerus  Christ  spoke 
i.i  hyssop;  and  according  to  other  versions, 
some  other  plai.t.  Secomlly,  I  examined  the 
nature,  the  uses,  the  properties  of  the  herb,  to 
which  1  liad  restored  the  true  name,  and  here 
I  heaped  up  a  great  number  of  passages  from 
Ar.stotle,  Pliny,  Solmus,  Salmasius,  »ndmany 
other  authors,  who  have  rendered  themselves 
famous  by  this  kinil  of  erudition.  Thirdly 
having  studied  mini  as  a  critic  and  as  a  natu- 
ralist, I  proceeded  at  length  to  examine  it  as  a 
divine  1  inquired  why  God  demanded  titiie 
of  this  herb.  Perhaps  thought  I,  here  may 
be  some  mystery  in  this  afl'air.  I  say  perhaps, 
for  I  acknowledge  myself  a  mere  novice  in 
this  science,  as  in  a  great  many  others.  How- 
ever, there  may  be  some  mysteries  in  this  of- 
fering. I  was  certain,  if  imagination  supplied 
the  place  of  reason,  and  flights  of  fancy  were 
put  instead  of  facts,  it  would  not  be  impossi- 
ble to  find  mysteries  here.     If  this  herb  be 


violably  attached  to  this  religion  !  Had  not  sweet,  said  I,  it  may  represent  the  sweetness 
God  shaken  nature,  and  subverted  kingdoms,  |  of  mercy;  if  it  be  bitter,  it  may  signify  the 
or,  in  the  language  of  a  prophet,  had  he  not  ]  bitterness  of  justice.  If  Jesus  Clirist  me:.nt 
'  shaken  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  the  i  h),'ssnp  as  some  think,  it  was  that  very  herb  of 
sea  and  the  dry  land,'  Hag.  ii  6,  to  es-  |  which  the  famous  bunch  was  made,  that  was 
tablish  this  religion  in  the  world,  yet  it  ought 
to  be  held  in  the  highest  estimation  for  its  own 
intrinsic  worth.  How  can  we  help  being  fill- 
ed with  indignation  at  those  abominable  men. 


who  in  spite  of  all  the  demonstrations  of  the 
divine  origin  of  this  religion,  place  their  glo- 
ry in  weakening  its  empire  over  the  heart ! 

2.  But  if  you  form  such  noble  ideas  of  a 
religion,  the  morality  of  which  is  so  exten- 
sive and  so  pure,  what  ideas  ought  you  to  form 
of  the  preaching  of  those  who  are  appointed 
to  instruct  you  in  it  ?  Which  way,  think  you, 
ought  they  to  bend  their  force  ?  What  kind 
of  questions  ought  they  to  propose  in  the 
Christian  pulpit?  Under  what  point  of  view 
ought  they  to  consider  the  texts,  which  make 
the  matter  of  their  discourses  ?  Are  they  re- 
quired to  excite  your  astonishment  by  flights 
of  imagination,  or  to  gratify  your  curiosity  by 
a  display  of  their  profound  erudition  ?  Does 
not  their  office  rather  require  them  to  employ 
all  the  times  you  allow  them  to  free  you  from 
your  prejudices,  to  take  off  those  scales  from 
your  eyes,  which  prevent   your  perceiving 


dipped  in  the  blood  of  sparrows  at  the  purifi- 
cation of  lepers.  What  mysteries!  W^hat  I 
had  done  with  mini  under  the  first  head,  I  did 
over  again  under  the  second  article  anise,  and 
the  same  over  again  under  the  th'rd  head 
cummin.  This  was  my  first  plan  of  discussion. 
The  second  method  was  that  which  I  have 
chosen.  In  the  former  discour-e  on  this  text, 
we  endeavoured  to  convince  you  that  you 
were  under  an  indispensable  obligation  to 
perform  the  great  duties  of  religion.  In  this 
we  have  been  endeavouring  to  obtain  your 
regard  to  the  little  duties  of  religion  ;  to  en- 
gage you  to  submit  to  the  laws  of  God,  even 
in  things  of  the  least  importance  ;  and  thus, 
to  give  you  a  complete  chain  of  Cliristian  vir- 
tues. 

My  brethren,  God  forbid  that  our  dis- 
courses, which  ought  always  to  be  animated 
with  a  spirit  of  benevolence,  should  at  any 
time  degenerate  into  a  satire,  and  that  we 
should  enjoy  a  malicious  pleasure  in  exjiloding 
the  method  of  those  who  entertain  ideas  dif- 
ferent from  ours  on  the  best  method  of  preach- 


Sen.  XLV.]      THE  DOOM  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS  AND  THE  WICKED.       39I 


ing.  I  grant  birth,  education,  and  a  course  of 
study,  have  a  great  deal  of  influence  over  us 
in  this  respect.  But,  in  the  name  of  God,  do 
not  condemn  us  for  treating  you  like  rational 
creatures,  for  addressing  to  you,  as  to  intelli- 
gent beings,  the  words  of  an  apostle,  We 
'  speak  as  to  wise  men,  judge  ye  what  we  say,' 
1  Cor.  X.  15.  Judge  what  are  the  oblij^a- 
tions  of  a  minister  of  a  religion,  the  morality 
of  which  is  so  extensive  and  pure. 

3.  Finally,  What  idea  ought  you  to  form 
of  the  engagements  of  such  disciples  as  pro 
fess  to  give  themselves  up  to  this  religion,  the 
morality  of  which  we  have  been  describing  .■' 
Where  are  the  Christians  who  have  this  com- 
plete chain  of  the  virtues  of  Christiimity  ? 
Where  shall  we  find  Christians,  who,  after 
they  have  performed  with  all  due  attention, 
the  great  duties,  hold  themselves  bound  by  an 
inviolable  law  not  to  neglect  the  least  ?  Alas  ! 
we  are  always  complaining  of  the  weight  of 
the  yoke  of  the  Lord  1    We  are  perpetually 


exclaiming,  like  the  profane  Jews  mentioned 
by  Malachi,  'Behold  what  a  weariness  it  is  !' 
chap.  i.  13.  We  dispute  the  ground  with 
God  !  It  should  seem  he  has  set  too  high  a 
price  on  heaven.  We  are  always  ready  to 
curtail  his  requisitions.  What !  say  we,  can- 
not he  be  contented  with  this  ^  will  he  not  be 
satisfied  with  that? 

Ah  !  my  dear  brethren,  let  us  open  our  eyes 
to  our  interest :  let  us  obey  the  laws  of  God 
without  reserve  :  let  us  observe  alike  the  most 
important  virtues  which  he  has  prescribed 
to  us,  and  those  which  are  least  important. 
We  ought  to  do  so,  not  only  because  he  is  our 
master,  but  because  he  is  our  father,  because 
he  proposes  no  other  end  but  that  of  render- 
ing us  happy :  and  because  so  much  as  we  re- 
trench our  duties,  so  much  we  diminish  our 
happiness.  To  this  God,  whose  love  is  always 
in  union  with  justice,  be  honour  and  glory, 
dominion  and  majesty,  both  now  and  for  ever. 
Amen. 


SERMON    XL.V. 


THF  DOOM  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS  AND  THE  WICKED, 


Revelation  xxi.  7,  8. 

He  that  overcometh  shall  inherit  all  things,  and  I  will  he  his  God,  and  he  sh(dl 
be  my  son.  But  the  fearfid,  and  the  unbelieving,  and  the  abominable^ 
and  murderers,  and  whoremongers,  and  sorcerers,  and  idolaters,  and  all 
liars,  shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake  which  burneih  with  fire  and  brim- 
stone,  which  is  the  second  death. 


M.T  is  a  subject  deserving  the  most  profound 
reflections,  my  brethren,  that  the  most  irregu- 
lar being,  I  mean  the  devil,  is  at  the  same  time 
the  most  miserable,  and  that  the  most  holy 
Being,  he  who  is  holy  by  excellence,  is  at  the 
same  time  the  most  hapjiy,  and  thus  unites  in 
his  own  essence  supreme  holiness  with  sove- 
reign happiness.  Satan,  who  began  his  auda- 
cious projects  in  ficaveii  the  '  habitation  of  ho- 
liness,' 2  Chron.  xxx.  27;  Satan,  who  rebel- 
led against  God  amidst  the  most  noble  dis- 
plays of  his  magnificence,  and  who  is  still 
a  '  murderer'  and  a  'liar,'  John  viii.  44;  Sa- 
tan is  in  the  depth  of  misery.  He  was  hurl- 
ed down  from  a  pinnacle  of  glory,  expelled 
for  ever  from  the  society  of  the  blessed,  and 
there  is  a  lake  of  fire  '  prepared  for  him  and 
his  angels,  Matt.  xxv.  41,  God  is  the  most 
holy  Being.  Indeed,  the  terms  virtue  and  Iio- 
liness  are  very  equivocal  when  applied  to  an 
independent  Being,  whose  authority  is  abso- 
lute, who  has  no  law  but  his  own  wisdom,  no 
rules  of  rectitude  but  his  own  volitions.  Yet, 
order,  whatever  is  sublime  in  what  we  mortals 
cM  ftolinessyvirlue,  justice,  eminently  dwells 
in  the  Deity,  and  forms  one  grand  and  glorious 
object  of  the  admiration   and   praise  of  the 


purest  intelligences,  who  incessantly  make  it 
the  matter  of  the  songs  which  they  sing  in  his 
honour,  and  who  cry  day  and  night  one  to  an- 
other, '  Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works, 
Lord  God  Almi^'hty.  O  Lord,  thou  king  of 
saints,  who  shall  not  fear  thee  and  glorify  thy 
name?  For  thou  art  holy;  for  all  nations 
shall  come  and  worship  before  thee,'  Rev.  xv. 
3,  4.  This  Being,  so  holy,  so  just;  this  Be- 
ing who  is  the  source  of  holiness,  justice,  and 
virtue;  this  Being  possesses  at  the  same  time 
the  highest  possible  happiness.  He  is,  in  tlie 
language  of  Scripture,  the  '  happy  God,'* 
and  as  I  said  before,  he  unites  in  his  own 
esssence  supreme  holiness  with  supreme  hap- 
piness. 

What  boundless  objecls  of  contemplation 
would  this  reflection  open  to  our  view,  my 
brethren,  were  it  necessary  to  pursue  it  ?  Con- 
sider it  only  in  one  point  of  light.  The  desti- 
nation of  these  two  beings  so  different,  is,  if  I 
maybe  permitted  to  say  so,  the  rule  of  the 
destination  of  all  intelligent  beings.  All  things 


*  ]  Tim.  i.  11.    Sep  vol,  i,.  p.  30.  note     Sprm,  11 
On  the  Eternitv  of  God 


392 


THE  DOOM  OF  THE 


[Ser.  XLV. 


considered,  the  more  we  partake  of  the  impu- 
rity of  Satan,  the  more  we  partake  of  his  mis- 
ery. It  would  be  absurd  to  suppose,  that  in 
'  the  time  oi  the  restitution  of  all  things,'  Acts 
iii.21,  which  will  soon  arrive,  and  justify 
Providence  against  the  innumerable  censures 
passed  upon  it,  it  would  be  absurd  lo  suppose, 
that  if  we  have  appropriated  the  irregularities 
of  the  impure  spirit  we  should  not  at  that 
time  partake  of  his  misery  ;  and  it  would  be 
absurd  to  suppose,  that  we  can  partake  ol 
the  virtues  ol  the  holy  Being,  without  parti- 
cipating his  felicity  and  glory. 

Each  part  of  these  propositions  is  contained 
in  the  words  of  my  text.  '  He  that  overcom- 
eth,'  he  who  in  tliis  world  of  obstacles  to  vir- 
tue shall  take  the  holiness  of  God  for  his  rule, 
as  far  as  it  is  allowable  for  frail  creatures  to 
regulate  themselves  by  an  example  so  perfect 
and  sublime, '  he  that  overcometh'  shall  have 
no  bounds  set  to  his  happiness,  fie  'shall  in- 
hnrit  all  things,'  he  shall  enter  into  the  family 
of  God  himself.  'I  will  be  his  Gr^d,  and  h-; 
shall  be  my  son.  But  the  fearful  and  unbe- 
lieving, and  the  abominable,  and  murderers, 
and  whoremongers,  and  sorcerers,  and  idola- 
ters, and  all  liars,'  of  what  order  soever  thfy 
he,  and  all  those  who  do  '  the  work?  of  the 
devil,'  fhidl  be  placed  in  a  condition  lii^e  his, 
'  shad  hai-e  their  part  in  the  laice  which 
burnetii  with  fire  and  brimstone,  which  is  the 
second  death.' 

We  invite  you  to  day  to  meditate  on  these 
truths,  and  in  order  to  reduce  the  subject  to 
the  size  of  a  single  sermon,  we  will  only  insist 
on  such  articles  of  the  morality  of  S?.  John  a^ 
are  least  known  and  most  disputed.  AVe  will 
distinguish  in  this  system  such  virtues  to  be 
practised,  and  such  vices  lo  lie  avoided,  as  are 
most  opposite  to  those  prej unices  which  the 
world  usually  forms  concerning  the  final  doom 
of  mankind. 

I.  The  first  prejudice  which  we  intend  to 
attack  is,  that,  ^  life  spent  in  ease  and  idle- 
ness is  not  incompatible  with  salvation^  if  it 
be  free  from  great  crimes.  Against  which,  we 
oppose  this  part  of  our  text,  '  He  that  over- 
cometh shall  inherit.'  hi  order  to  '  inherit,' 
we  must  overcome.  Here  vigilance,  action, 
and  motion,  are  supposed. 

If.  The  second  prejudice  is,  that, ./?  just  God 
icill  not  impute  to  his  creatures  si7is  of  injirm- 
■tlt/  and  constitution,  though  his  creatures 
should  be  subject  to  them  during  the  whole 
course  of  their  lives.  Against  which  we  op- 
pose these  words  of  the  apostle,  'The  tearful 
and  whoremongers  shall  have  their  part  in 
the  lake  which  burneth  with  ifire  and  brim- 
stone.' 

ill.  Tlie  third  prejudire  is,  that,  Specula- 
tive errors  cannot  l)e  attended  with  any  fatal 
consequences.,  provided  ivc  lire  uprightly.,  us  it 
is  called,  and  discharge  our  social  duties. 
Against  which  we  oppose  this  word,  the  •  un- 
believing.' The  unbelieving  are  put  into  the 
class  of  the  miserable. 

IV.  The  fourth  prejudice  is,  that.  Religions 
are  indifferent.  The  mercy  of  God  extends  to 
those  who  live  in  the  most  erroneous  commu- 
nions.    Against  which   we  oppose  the  word 


'  idolaters.'     Idolaters  are  considered  among 
the  most  criminal  of  mankind 

V.  The  last  prejudice  is,  that,  T^one  but  the 
vulgar  ought  to  be  afraid  of  committing  certain 
crimeft.  Kings  will  be  judged  by  a  particular 
law:  the  greatness  of  the  motive  that  inclined 
them  to  manage  some  affairs  of  state  will  plead 
their  excuse,  and  secure  them  from  divine  ven- 
geance. Against  this  we  oppose  these  words, 
'  abominable,'  poisoners,*  '  and  all  liars,'  which 
three  words  include  almost  all  those  al)omina- 
tions  which  are  called  illustrious  crimes. 
However,  the  abominable,  the  poisoners,  and 
all  the  liars,  shall  have,  as  well  as  the  fearful, 
the  unbelieving,  the  unclean,  and  the  idola- 
ters, '  their  part  in  the  lake  which  burneth 
with  (ire  and  brimstone.' 

I.  Let  us  begin  with  the  first  prejudice.  A 
lift  .tpcnt  in  ease  and  idleness  is  not  incompa- 
tible with  salvatio7i,  if  it  he  free  from  great 
crimes.  St.  John  takes  away  this  unjust  pre- 
text, by  considering  salvation  as  a  prize  to  bo 
obtained  by  conquest.  '  He  who  overcometh,' 
implies  vigilance,  activity,  and  motion.  Two 
considerations  will  place  the  meaning  of  our 
apostle  in  the  clearest  light.  We  take  the 
first  from  the  nature  of  evangelical  virtues, 
ar('  the  second  from  the  nature  of  those  vices 
which  are  forbidden  in  the  gospel. 

1.  The  nature  of  evangelical  virtues  de- 
mands vigilance,  action,  and  motion.  It  is  im- 
possil)le,  to  exercise  these  virtues  under  the  in- 
fluence of  effeminacy,  idleness,  and  ease.  Let 
us  examine  a  few  of  these  virtues. 

What  is  the  love  of  God  i"  It  is  that  disposi- 
tion of  the  soul  which  inclines  us  to  adore  his 
perfeciioiis,  to  admire  with  the  highest  joy  his 
glorious  attributes,  and  to  desire  v;ith  the  ut- 
most ardour  to  be  closely  united  to  him  as  to 
our  supreme  good  ;  but  this  disposition  cannot 
be  exercised,  cannot  be  acquired,  without  vi- 
gilance, action,  and  motion.  We  must  medi- 
tate on  that  sovereign  povver  which  formed 
this  universe  by  a  single  volition,  and  by  a 
single  volition  determined  its  doom.  We  must 
meditate  on  that  supreme  wisdom  which  re- 
gulates all  the  works  of  supreme  power,  com- 
bining causes  with  effects,  and  means  with  ends, 
and  which  by  this  infinite  coml>ination  lias  al- 
ways adjusted,  and  continues  to  arrange  and 
direct  all  the  works  which  we  behold,  and 
others  without  number  which  lie  beyond  the 
utmost  slr^ch  of  our  imagination.  We  must 
meditate  on  that  perfect  justice  which  is  en- 
graven on  all  the  productions  of  the  Creator, 
on  all  the  coniluct  of  providence,  and  remark- 
ably on  the  consciences  of  mankind,  which 
continually  'accuse  or  excuse'  their  actions, 
Rom.  ii.  15.  Conscience  is  either  tortured 
with  remorse  or  involved  in  delight,  according 
as  we  have  been  attached  to  virtue,  or  have 
violated  it.  We  must  meditate  on  that  mfi- 
nite  goodness  which  is  '  over  all  his  works,* 
Ps.  cxlv.  9.  We  must  not  only  consider  this 
palace  where  God  has  lodged  man,  a  palace  of 
delights  before  the  entrance  of  sin,  but  which, 


*  PoisontTf.  <I}n^/AHKSj<7i.  Vencficis.  Incantatori- 
bus.  Qui  inalis  inagia:  artibiis  utuntur.  The  French 
bibles  read  empoisoiiHeurs,  poisoners. 


Ser.  XLV.] 


RIGHTEOUS  AND  THE  WICKED. 


393 


since  that  fatal  period,  is,  alas !  nothing  but  a 
theatre  and,  if  I  may  expr<>ss  myself  so,  a  uni- 
versnl  scaffold,  on  which  he  exercises  the  most 
terrible  vengeance,  and  exhibits  his  most 
dreadful  executions.  We  must  enter,  more 
over,  into  the  genius  of  religion  ;  know  tlse 
power  of  that  arm  which  he  exerts  to  deli- 
ver us  from  bondaTfe  ;  the  power  of  thos^ 
succours  which  he  affords  to  enable  us  to 
triumph  over  our  depravity;  the  excel- 
lence of  revealed  mysteries;  the  value  of 
the  pardon  set  before  us ;  the  pleasure  and 
peace  poured  into  our  souls;  and  the  magni- 
ficence of  such  objects  as  the  gospel  proposes 
to  our  hopes.  All  this  requires  vigilance,  ac- 
tion, and  motion.  Nothing  of  this  can  be  ac- 
quired under  the  influence  of  effeminacy, 
idleness,  and  ease.  Nothing  of  this  can  be 
done  in  the  circles  of  pleasure,  at  gaming- 
tables, or  in  places  of  public  diversion. 

What  is  faith  ?  It  is  that  disposition  of  our 
soxds  which  '  brings  into  captivity  every 
thought  to  the  obedience  of  Christ,'  2  Cor.  x. 
.5,  and  subjects  them  all  to  his  decisions.  In 
order  to  this,  we  must  be  convinced  that  God 
has  not  left  men  to  their  natural  darkness,  but 
bestowed  on  them  the  light  of  divine  revela- 
tion. We  must  examine  this  revelation,  and 
understand  the  proofs  of  its  divinity.  We 
must  collect  into  one  body  the  fundamental 
truths  included  in  it.  We  must  remove  or 
invalidate  those  glosses  which  false  teachers 
have  applied  to  perplex  the  meaning  of  it. 
We  must  understand  how  to  be  deaf  to  every 
voice  except  that  of  eternal  truth  ;  and  to  say 
from  the  bottom  of  a  soul  filled  with  the  love 
of  this  truth,  '  Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servants 
hear,'  1  Sam,  iii.  9.  All  this  requires  vigilance, 
action,  and  motion.  Nothing  of  this  can  be 
acquired  under  the  influence  of  effeminacy, 
idleness,  and  ease.  Nothing  of  this  can  be 
done  in  circles  of  pleasure,  at  gaming-tables, 
or  places  of  public  diversion. 

What  is  6enei'o.'fnce.?  It  is  that  disposition 
of  soul  which  engages  us  to  consider  our  neigh- 
bour as  ourselves,  and  to  study  his  interest  as 
our  own.  In  order  to  this,  we  must  examine 
both  his  temporal  and  spiritual  wants.  If  he 
be  in  a  state  of  indigence,  we  must  provide  for 
him,  either  at  our  expense,  or  by  exciting  in 
his  favour  the  compassion  of  others,  W  hen 
he  is  ignorant  we  must  inform  him,  when  in 
an  error  undeceive  him,  when  he  strays  we 
must  recall  him,  when  his  spirits  are  over- 
whelmed, comfort  him;  we  must  visit  him 
when  he  is  confined,  edify  him  by  our  conduct, 
and  encourage  him  by  our  examjile.  All  this 
demands  vigilance,  action,  and  motion.  No- 
thing of  this  can  be  acquired  under  the  influ- 
ence o  effeminacy,  idleness,  and  ease.  No- 
thing of  this  can  be  done  in  circles  of  pleasure, 
at  gaming-tables,  or  at  places  of  public  diver- 
sion. 

What  is  repentnnve  ?•  It  is  that  disposition 
of  our  soul,  which  makes  the  remembrance  of 
our  sins  a  source  of  the  bitterest  grief.  This 
sujjposes  many  self-examinations  and  self-con- 
demnations, much  remorse  of  conscience,  ma- 
ny tears  shed  into  the  bosom  of  God,  many 
methods  tried  to  preclude  falling  fsgain  into 


sins,  the  remembrance  of  which  is  so  grieyousr 
to  us.  Above  all,  this  virtue  supposes  recom- 
penses in  great  number.  If  we  have  propaga- 
ted any  maxims  injurious  to  religion,  rejiara- 
tion  must  be  made  ;  for  how  car  we  be  said 
to  repent  of  having  advanced  such  maxims, 
except  we  abjure  them,  and  exert  all  our  in- 
flu  rice  to  remove  sucn  fatal  effects  as  they 
have  prodi'ced  .''  If  we  have  injured  the  repu- 
tation of  a  neighbour,  recompense  must  be 
made  ;  for  how  can  we  repent  of  having  injur- 
ed the  reputation  of  a  neighbour,  unless  we 
endeavour  to  establish  it,  and  to  restore  as 
much  credit  to  him  as  we  have  taken  away  .'' 
Repentance  also  includes  restitution  of  proper- 
ty, 'if  we  have  taken  any  thing  from  any 
man,'  Luke  xix  8.  All  the  exercises  of  this 
virtue  require  vigilance,  action,  and  motion. 
None  of  these  are  acquired  under  thn  mfluence 
of  indolence,  idleness,  and  ease.  None  of  these 
are  practised  in  circles  of  pleasure,  at  gaming- 
tables, or  at  places  c>f  public  diversion. 

2.  Kven  the  nature  of  those  vices  which  the 
gospel  forbids,  demonstrates  that  a  life  wasted 
in  idleness  is  incompatible  with  salvation. 
He  who  has  well  studied  the  human  heart, 
and  carefully  examined  the  causes  of  so  many 
resolutions  broken  by  the  greatest  saints,  so 
many  promises  forgotten,  so  many  vows  vi- 
olated, so  many  solemn  engagements  falsi- 
fied, will  acknowledge,  that  these  disorders 
seldom  proceed  from  malice,  yea,  seldom  from 
a  want  of  sincerity  and  good  faith.  You  often 
fall  into  temptations  which  you  mean  to  re- 
sist. Your  misfortune  is,  that  you  are  not 
sufficiently  prepared  for  resistance.  How,  for 
instance,  can  we  resist  temptations  to  pride, 
unless  we  close  every  avenue  by  which  it  en- 
ters into  the  heart ;  unless  we  make  serious 
reflections  on  the  meanness  of  our  original,  the 
uncertainty  of  our  knowledge,  the  imperfec- 
tion of  our  virtue,  the  enormity  of  our  crimes, 
and  the  vanity  of  our  riches,  titles,  dignity, 
and  life.''  Again,  how  can  we  resist  the  so- 
phisms of  error,  if  we  have  only  a  superficial 
knowledge  of  religion,  if  we  do  not  build  our 
faith  on  foundations  immovable  and  firm.''  In 
fine,  how  can  we  resist  sensual  temptations, 
unless  we  endeavour  to  dethrone  our  passions, 
unless  we  frequently  and  boldly  attack  and 
subdue  them,  assuage  their  fury,  and  force 
them,  at  it  were,  to  bow  to  the  dominion  of 
reason  ? 

This  prejudice  refutes  itself.  They  who 
adopt  it  furnish  us  with  weapons  against 
themselves.  An  idle  life  is  compatible  with 
salvation,  say  you,  provided  it  be  free  from 
great  crimes.  But  I  say,  an  idle  life  cannot 
be  free  from  great  crimes.  Indolence  is  a 
source  of  great  wickedness,  aud  vigilance  and 
activity  are  necessary  to  prevent  the  exercise 
of  it. 

Let  us  not  pass  over  these  reflections  light- 
ly, my  brethren.  The  prejudice  which  we 
are  attacking  is  very  important  in  its  conse- 
quences; it  is  a  fatal  prejudice,  sapping  the 
very  foundations  of  Christian  morality.  It  is 
not  a  particular  prejudice,  confined  within  a 
narrow  circle ;  it  is  general,  even  among 
Christians,  and  spread  far  and  wide.     It  is  not 


394 


THE    DOOM    OF    THE 


[Ser.  XLV. 


a  prejudice  secretly  r:  volved  in  the  mind,  anl 
covered  with  a  blush  .g  veil  ;  but  it  is  a  ^'  d 
notorious  prejudice,  ai.  i  Christians  exalt  '  .ato 
a  maxim  ot  religion,  and  a  first  pri*  jile  of 
morality.  This  is  the  i  "-ejudice  f  i  Uiat  vain 
loquacious  woman,  who,  ln."''r.j^  rapidly  read 
a  few  devotional  books,  and  hastily  repeated 
a  few  prayers,  which  proceeded  less  from  her 
heart  than  her  lips,  spends  one  part  of  her  life 
in  places  of  puV>lic  diversion,  and  the  other  in 
making  art  supply  the  place  of  nature,  in  dis- 
guising her  personal  defects,  and  in  trying 
whether  by  iiorrowed  ornaments  she  can  ob- 
tain from  the  tolly  of  men  such  incense  as  she 
offers  to  herself,  such  as  she  derives  from  her 
own  immoderate  vanity  and  self-admiration. 
This  is  the  prejudice  of  that  soldier,  who,  at 
the  end  of  a  campaign,  or  at  the  conclusion  of 
a  peace,  thinks  he  may  employ  the  rest  of  his 
life  in  relating  his  adventures,  and  indemnify 
himself  for  his  former  dangers  and  fatigues  by 
an  idleness  which  is  often  a  burden  to  those 
■who  are  witnesses  of  it,  and  ottener  still  to 
himself,  who  petrifies  in  his  own  tales.  This 
IS  the  prejudice  ot  a  great  many  people,  who 
have  nothing  else  to  say  to  their  preachers,  to 
all  their  casuists,  and  to  all  their  religious  in- 
btructors,  but,  I  wrong  nobody,  I  do  no  harm. 
Shall  I  venture  to  say,  my  brethren,  why  do 
not  you  do  a  little  harm  ?  I  have,  I  declare, 
more  hope  of  a  man,  who,  in  a  high  lever,  be- 
comes so  delirious,  and  apparently  so  mad, 
that  the  strongest  persons  can  hardly  hold  him, 
than  I  have  of  a  lethargic  patient,  all  whose 
senses  are  stupified,  his  spirits  sunk,  and  his 
natural  warmth  gone.  I  have  more  hope  for 
a  sinner,  who,  in  a  violent  passion  breaks  the 
most  sacred  laws,  and  tran)ples  on  the  most 
solemn  engagements,  than  I  have  for  a  man, 
indolent,  motionless,  cold,  insensible  to  all  the 
motives  of  religion,  and  to  all  the  stings  of  con- 
science. 

My  brethren,  let  us  not  deceive  ourselves  : 
there  is  something  of  consequence  to  do  in  ev- 
ery moment  of  a  Christian  life.  There  are 
always  in  a  Christian  life  temptations  to  be 
resisted,  and  consequently  in  e\  ery  moment  of 
a  Christian  life  we  must  overcome  these  temp- 
tations. All  ages  require  action.  In  every 
stage  of  life  we  have  tempt  itions^to  surmount, 
and  in  every  stage  of  life  we  must  overcome 
them.  We  must  overcome  the  temptations  of 
childhood,  the  temptations  of  youth,  the  temp- 
tations of  old  age.  All  condiimis  require  ac- 
tion. We  must  surmount  some  temptations 
in  all  conditions,  and  in  all  conditions  we  must 
overcome  them.  We  must  overcome  the  temp- 
tations of  poverty,  those  of  prosperity,  those  of 
elevated  posts,  and  those  which  belong  to  a 
state  of  obscurity,  a  sort  of  death,  a  kind  of 
grave.  All /jrq/essions  require  action.  There 
are  in  all  professions  temptations  to  be  sur- 
mounted, and  in  all  professions  we  must  over- 
come them.  The  statesman  must  subdue  the 
temptations  of  his  profession,  the  soldier  must 
vanquish  the  temptation  of  his,  the  merchant 
of  his,  and  so  of  the  rest.  All  situations  re- 
quire action.  In  all  situations  there  are  temp- 
tations to  be  conquered,  and  in  all  situations 
■we  must  overcome  them.     We  mu=t  get  above 


the  temptations  of  health,  those  of  sickness, 
and  those  of  death.  '  He  that  overcometh 
shall  inherit  all  things.' 

1  am  well  aware  that  to  preach  this  gospel 
is,  in  the  ojiinion  of  some,  to  teach  a  severe 
morality,  to  mark  out  a  discouraging  course, 
to  invite  to  unequal  combats.  This  morality, 
however,  will  seem  severe  only  to  lukewarm 
Christians.  This  course  will  appear  discour- 
aging only  to  soft  and  indolent  souls.  These 
combats  will  seem  unequal  only  to  such  as 
have  no  true  courage,  listless  and  dastardly 
souls.  A  real  Christian  will  be  so  inflamed 
with  the  love  of  his  God,  he  will  be  attracted 
by  so  many  powerful  and  comfortable  motives, 
above  all,  he  will  be  animated  with  a  desire 
so  strong  to  obtain  a  victory,  which  infallibly 
follows  the  combat,  that  nothing  will  appear 
severe,  nothing  discouraging,  nothing  unequal 
in  the  course  of  obtaining  it.  What  dominion 
over  his  heart  will  not  that  voice  obtain, 
which,  proceeding  from  the  mouth  of  the'  au- 
thor and  finisher  of  his  faith,'  addresses  him, 
and  says, '  He  that  overcometh  shall  inherit 
all  things,'  Heb.  xii.  "2. 

Christian  soul  dost  thou  complain  of  the  bat- 
tle? But  in  order  to  conquer  you  must  fight. 
The  glorified  saints  were  once  warriors,  and 
are  now  conquerors.  Flesh  and  blood,  earth 
and  hell,  were  their  enemies.  Faith  and  love, 
and  all  othf-r  Christian  virtues,  were  their  ar- 
mour. The  clouds  were  their  triumphal  cha- 
riots. Angels,  thousands  of  angels.  Men  thou- 
sand timesten  thousand,  and  thousands  of  thou- 
sands,' Rev.  V.  21,  who  wait  continually  be- 
fore God,  were  their  witne-ses.  The  appro- 
bation of  the  Son  of  God,  this  rapturous  decla- 
ration, '  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,' 
Matt  XXV.  23,  well  done,  faithful  confessor, 
thou  hast  nobly  endured  the  cross ;  well  done, 
martyr  for  morality,  thou  hast  caused  concu- 
piscence to  yield  to  the  commandments  of 
God  ;  these  ecstatical  declarations  were  their 
crown.  Jesus  Christ  is  their  rewarder,  and 
joys  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory,  peace  of 
soul,  tranquillity  of  conscience,  rivers  of  plea- 
sure,'  fulness  of  joy  at  God's  right  hand  for 
evermore,  the  city  that  hath  foundations,  Je- 
rusalem which  is  above,  the  hesi  venly  country, 
new  heavens  and  a  new  earth,'  the  society  of 
angels,  perfect  knowledge,  refined  virtues,  in- 
effable sensations,  sacred  flames,  God  himself; 
Lo  !  these  are  the  recompense,  these  their 
great  reward.  '  He  that  overcometh  shall  in- 
herit all  things ;  I  will  be  his  God,  and  he 
shall  be  my  son.' 

II.  The  second  prejudice  which  we  are  en- 
deavouring  to  remove  is  that,  A  just  God  can- 
not impute  to  hiscreatvres  sins  of  infirmity  and 
constitution,  though,  his  creatures  should  be 
subject  to  them  duritig  the  whole  course  of  their 
lives.  Against  this  we  oppose  these  words  of 
the  apostle,  the  fearful  and  the  unclean*  The 
most  frequent  excuse  for  impurity  is  constitu- 
tion. A  certain  constitutional  turn  is  general- 
ly considered  as  a  ground  of  justification  ;  and 

I  •  riogvo/f-  Our  translation  renders  it  tchoremongers 
—the  old  Frencli  bibles  paillards — Mr.  gainin  more 
accurately  impiirs — i.  e.  wtclean. 


«KK.  XL  v.] 


RIGHTEOUS  AND  THE  WICKED. 


395 


it  is  eagerly  maintained,  le?t  wc  ahould  be 
obliged  to  be  holy  for  want  of  excuses  to  sin, 
and  lest  the  deceitful  pleasures  of  sin  should  be 
imbitterred  by  remorse.  Yel,  *  the  unclean 
shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake  that  burneth 
with  fire  and  brimstone.'  As  to  the  fearfal- 
ness,  or  timidity,  what  is  there  in  us,  that  can 
be  more  properly  called  human  frailty  than 
this?  Let  us  hear  St.  John.  Whom  does  lie 
mean  by  the  fearful  ?  1  fear  we  shidl  find 
several  classes  of  these  in  religion.  There 
are  many  sorts  of  the  fenrful,  who  shall  have 
their  part  in  the  lake  which  burneth  witii  fire 
and  brimstone,' 

For  example,  a  man  wlio  hears  the  name  of 
God  blasphemed,  religion  opposed,  °^nod  man- 
ners attacked,  but  who  has  not  the  courag;o  to 
confess  Jesus  Christ,  to  say,  I  am  a  Christian, 
and  to  manifest  his  indignation  against  such 
odious  di-courses,  such  a  man  iafeaifid,  he 
shall  have  no  part  in  the  inheritance  of  the 
children  of  God,  A  man  who  sees  his  neigh- 
bour wounded  by  cilumny  and  slander,  but 
who  haL'  not  Courage  to  reprove  the  slanderer, 
though  in  his  soul  he  detests  him,  such  a  man 
is  one  of  the  fearful,  who  shall  have  no  part 
in  the  inheritance  of  the  children  of  God,  A 
magistrate  who  has  received  from  God  the 
sword  for  the  protection  of  oppressed  widows 
and  orphans,  but  who,  terrified  with  the  rank 
of  the  oppressor  sacrifices  to  him  the  rights  of 
widows  and  orphans,  such  a  man  isfearfal^he 
shall  have  no  part  in  the  inheritan^s  of  the 
children  of  God 

But,  though  these  notions  of  fearfulness  are 
just,  and  tliough  the  proposition  in  the  text  is 
true  in  all  these  senses,  it  is  clear,  I  thitik,  by 
the  circumstances  in  which  St.  John  wrote  the 
revelation,  by  the  persecutions  he  foretold,  by 
the  exhortations  he  addressed  to  believers  to 
surmount  ttiem,  and  by  many  other  conside- 
rations, that  the  holy  man  had  particularly, 
and  perhaps  only,  that  fearfulness  in  view, 
which  induces  some  to  deny  that  truth  for 
fear  of  persecution,  of  which  they  were  tho- 
roughly persuaded.  Of  this  sort  oi fearful  per- 
sons he  affirms, '  they  shall  have  their  part  in 
the  lake  which  burneth  with  fire  and  brim- 
stone.' 

There  is,  I  acknowledge,  an  ambiguity  in 
the  terms,  or  rather  in  the  proposition,  which 
may  render  this  article  obscure,  and  those 
which  follow  more  so.  When  it  is  said,  that 
'  the  fearful,  the  unbelieving,  and  the  abomi- 
nable, the  murderers  and  poisoners, shall  have 
their  part  in  the  lake  which  burneth  with  fire 
and  brimstone,'  we  are  not  to  understand  either 
such  as  have  once  committed  any  of  these 
crimes,  or  such  as  have  lived  some  time  in  the 
practice  of  any  one  of  them,  but  have  after- 
ward repented.  Were  we  to  condemn  to 
eternal  flames  all  such  persons  as  these,  alas  ! 
who  could  escape  ?  Not  Moses ;  he  was  some- 
times imhelie.ving.  Not  St,  Peter ;  he  was 
sometimes/ear/«/.  Not  David ;  he  commit- 
ted murder,  was  guilty  of  lying,  abomination 
and  impurity.  Not  any  of  you,  my  brethren  ; 
there  is  not  one  of  you  whose  conscience  does 
not  reproach  him  with  having  done  some  act 
o(fearfulnesii,  v]xhdief,  and  impurity.     Hea- 


ven forbid,  we  should  have  to  reproach  any  of 
you  with  forming  the  act  into  a  habit ! 

St.  John  spraks  then,  in  this  place,  of  those 
only  who  live  in  a  Imbit  of  these  vices.  But, 
I  repeat  it  again,  although  this  evil  habit  may 
originate  inhuman  frailty,  yet  it  is  certainly 
that  sort  of  fearfulness  which  we  have  been 
exphdning  ;  it  is  the  fearfulness  with  which 
tyrants  inspire  such  as  ought  to  confess  the 
truth.  Ask  those  of  onr  brethren,  for  whom  we 
utter  the  deepe  t  sighs,  and  shed  the  bitterest 
tears,  what  prevents  their  giving  glory  to  God, 
by  yiekiing  to  the  exhortations  which  we 
have  so  long  addressed  to  them,  and  which 
wc  continue  to  address  to  them,  1  hey  tell 
you  it  is  liuman  frailly.  Ask  that  head  of  a 
family  why  he  does  not  flee  to  some  place 
where  he  might  enjoy  such  a  public  worship 
as  he  approves,  and  partake  o(  the  sacraments 
for  which  he  pines.  Human  frailty  makes 
him  fear  he  cannot  live  without  his  dear  chil- 
dren. Ask  that  lady,  who  is  in  some  sort  mis- 
tress of  her  destiny,  having  neither  family  nor 
connexion,  and  being  loaded  with  silver  and 
gold  ;  ask  her  why  she  does  not  avail  herself 
of  her  independence  to  render  homage  to  her 
religion.  Human  frailty  make<  her  fear  she 
cannot  undei'go  tlie  fatigue  of  a  journey,  or 
bear  the  air  of  a  foreign  climate,  or  share  the 
contempt  generally  cast  on  other  refugees  who 
carry  along  with  them  reputation,  riches,  and 
honours.  Ask  that  apostate,  what  obliges 
him  to  '  receive  the  mark  of  the  image  of  the 
beast  on  his  forehead,'  Rev.xiii.  16.  Human 
frailty  makes  him  fear  prisons,  dungeons,  and 
galleys.  Yet  what  says  St.  John  of  this/ear- 
fulness  inseparable  from  human  frailty  ?  He 
says,  it  excludes  people  from  the  inheritance 
of  the  children  of  God.  The  life  of  a  Chris- 
t'an  is  a  continual  warfare.  Fearfulness  is 
the  most  indefensible  disposition  in  a  soldier. 
Fearfulness  in  war  is  one  of  the  vices  that 
nobody  dares  to  avow  ;  worldly  honour  either 
entirely  eradicates  it,  or  animates  soldiers  to 
subdue  it.  Want  of  courage  is  equally  odious 
in  religion.  A  timid  Christian  is  no  more  fit 
to  fight  under  the  standard  o  the '  lion  of  the 
tribe  of  Jidah,'  Rev.  v.  5,  than  a  boaster  un- 
der that  of  an  earthly  hero.  '  The  fearful 
shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake  which  burn- 
etii with  fire  and  brimstone.' 

After  this,  my  brethren,  shall  we  plead  om- 
frailty.''  Shall  we  draw  arguments  for  luke- 
warmness  from  what  ought  to  invigorate  us  ? 
Shall  we  cherish  our  indifference  by  such  pas- 
sages as  these  .•'  '  The  spirit  indeed  is  willing, 
but  the  flesh  is  weak,'  Matt,  xxvi.  41.  '  The 
flesh  lusteth  against  the  spirit,  and  the  spirit 
against  the  flesh,'  Gal.  v.  17.  'The  Lord 
knoweth  our  frame,  he  remembereth  that  we 
are  but  dust  1'  Ps.  ciii.  14.  Shall  we  attempt 
to  frustrate  all  the  kind  intentions  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  who  makes  us  feel  our  frailty  oidy  for 
the  sake  of  engaging  us  to  watch  and  fortify 
ourselves  against  it.'  Believe  me,  the  sentence 
pronounced  by  St.  John  will  never  be  revok- 
ed by  such  frivolous  excuses ;  but  it  will  be 
always  true  that  'the  fearful  shall  have  their 
part  in  the  lake  which  burneth  with  tire  and 
brimstone.' 


sm 


THE  DOOM  OF  THE 


[Ser.  XLV. 


Til.  Let  us  attend  to  the  third  prejudice. 
Speculative  errors  cannot  be  attended  with  ani/ 
fatal  consequences,  provided  we  live  uprightly, 
as  tt  is  called,  and  discharge  our  social  duties. 
Nothing  can  be  more  specious  than  this  pre- 
tence. Of  all  tyrannies,  that  wliich  if  excr- 
<;ised  over  the  mind  is  the  most  opposite  to 
natural  right.  Fires  and  gibbets,  racks  and 
tortures,  may  indeed  iorce  a  man  to  di^gui^e 
his  ideas,  but  they  can  never  change  them. 
The  violence  of  torments  may  indeed  makn 
hypocrites,  but  it  never  yet  made  good  pro- 
selytes. 

We  not  only  affirm,  that  no  human  power 
can  oblige  us  to  consider  a  proposition  as  true 
which  wt  know  to  be  false,  but  we  add,  we 
ourselves  have  no  such  power  over  our  own 
minds.  It  does  not  depend  on  us  to  see,  or  not 
to  see,  a  connexion  between  two  ideas  ;  to  as- 
sent to  a  trutli,  or  not  to  assent  to  it.  Evi- 
dence forces.,  demonstration  carries  us   away. 

Moreover,  although  God  justly  requires  us 
to  employ  all  the  portion  of  genius  which  he 
has  given  us,  in  searching  alter  truth,  yet  his 
equity  will  not  allow  that  we  should  ni.t  re- 
gard as  evident  what  the  genius  which  he  ha.5 
given  us  makes  appear  evident ;  and  that  we 
should  not  regard  as  false  what  the  geniu.'* 
which  he  has  given  us  makes  appear  false.  If 
it  should  happen,  then,  that  ri  man,  having  ex- 
ercised all  the  attention,  and  ail  the  rectitude 
of  which  he  is  capable,  in  examining  the  most 
important  questions  of  religion,  cannot  obtain 
evidence  enough  to  determine  hisjudgment ;  if 
what  appears  evident  to  others  seem  doubtful 
to  him;  if  what  seems  demonstrative  to  them 
appears  only  probable  to  him,  he  cannot  be 
justly  condemned  for  unbelief  Consequently, 
what  we  have  called  a  prejudice  looks  like  the 
very  essence  of  reason  and  truth  ;  and  this 
proposition,  Speculative  errors  cannot  he  at- 
tended with  any  fatal  coniequences,  ought  to 
be  admitted  as  a  first  principle. 

My  brethren,  were  it  necessary  to  give  our 
opinion  of  this  article,  we  should  boldly  affirm, 
that  the  case  just  now  proposed  is  impossible. 
"We  are  fully  persuaded,  that  it  is  not  possible 
for  a  man  who  has  a  common  share  of  sense, 
and  who  employs  it  all  in  examining  whether 
there  be  a  God  in  heaven,  or  whether  the 
Scripture  be  a  divine  revelation,  to  continue 
in  suspense  on  these  important  subjects.  But 
our  conviction  affords  no  proof  to  others. 
There  are  some  truths  which  cannot  be  de- 
monstrated ;  and  equity  requires  us  to  allege 
in  a  dispute  only  what  is  capable  of  demon- 
stration. We  confine  ourselves  to  that  chiss  of 
imbelievers  whose  infidelity  of  mind  proceeds 
from   depravity   of  heart  ;    and   affirm,  that 


belong  to  subjects  the  most  interesting.  To 
examine  them  care'le?sly,  to  offer  them  only, 
if  I  may  venture  to  speak  so,  to  the  surface  of 
his  mind,  is  a  full  proof  of  the  depravity  of 
his  heart. 

2.  We  require  an  unbeliever  to  enter  upon 
the  discuss-i<.n  of  these  truths  with  a  determi- 
nation lo  sacrifice  to  them  not  only  his  strong- 
est [.rejudices,  but  also  his  most  violent  pas- 
sions and  hi>  d;'arest  interests.  If  there  be  a 
God  in  heaven,  if  the  Christian  religion  be 
divine,  all  the  plans  of  our  love  and  hatred, 
sorrow  and  joy,  ought  to  be  regulated  by 
these  great  trutlis.  hivery  man  who  is  not 
conscious  of  having  examined  them  in  such  a 
disposition,  and  who  has  obtained  by  his  exa- 
mination only  doubts  and  uncertainties,  has 
reason  to  fear  that  the  emotions  of  his  senses, 
and  the  suggestions  of  his  passions,  have  shack- 
led, yea,  imprisoned,  the  faculties  of  his 
mind. 

3.  We  require  an  unbeliever,  who,  not- 
withstanding all  these  conditions,  pret^^nds  to 
be  convinced  that  the  ideas  of  believers  are 
imaginary,  to  show  at  least  some  mortifica- 
tion on  account  of  this  afi'ccted  discovery. 
Mankind  have  the  highest  reason  to  wish 
that  the  hopes  excited  by  religion  may  be  well- 
grounded  ;  that  we  may  be  formed  for  eter- 
nity ;  that  we  may  enjoy  an  endless  felicity 
after  death.  If  these  be  chimeras,  behold 
man  stripi>ed  of  his  most  glorious  privileges  I 
A  person  educated  with  other  Christians  in 
the  noble  hope  of  im.mortality,  and  obtaining 
afterward  proof  that  this  hope  is  founded  only 
in  the  fancies  of  enthusiasts  ;  a  man  rejoicing 
at  this  discovery  ;  a  man  congratulating  him- 
self on  having  lost  a  treasure  so  rich  ;  a  per- 
son unaffected  with  the  vanishing  of  such  ines- 
timable advantages  ; — such  a  man,  I  say,  dis- 
covers an  enoimous  depravity  of  heart. 

4.  We  require  an  unbeliever  to  acknow- 
ledge, that  religion  has  at  least  some  probabi- 
lity. A  man  who  can  maintain  that  the  sys- 
tem of  infidelity  is  demonstrative,  that  this 
proposition.  There  is  no  God,  i?  evident ;  that 
this  other  is  incontestable.  Religion  has  not 
one  character  of  dirinity ;  a  man  who  can 
maintain  that  a  good  philosopher  ought  not 
to  retain  in  his  mind  the  least  doubt  or  uncer- 
tainty on  these  articles,  that  for  his  own  part 
he  has  arrived  at  mathematical  dfmonstra- 
tion ; — such  a  man,  if  he  be  not  the  most  ex- 
travagant of  mankind,  is,  however,  one  of  the 
most  corrupt. 

5.  In  fine,  we  require  an  unbeliever,  on 
supposition  that  his  system  were  probable, 
that  the  plan  of  religion  were  only  probable, 
that  had  his  a  hundred  degrees  of  probability. 


they  are  included  in  the  sentence  denounced  ;  and  ours  only  one  degree,  I  say,  we  require 
by  our  apostle,  and  deserve  to  sutler  it  in  all  i  this  unbeliever  to  act  as  if  our  system  was 
its  rigour.  Now  we  have  reason  to  form  tliis  1  'evidently  true,  and  as  if  his  was  demonstra- 
judgment  of  an  unbeliever,  unless  he  observes  i  tiveiy  false.  If  our  .ystem  of  faitli  be  true, 
all  the  following  conditions,  which  we  have  i_all  is  hazarded  when  the  life  is  directed  by  a 
seen  associated  in  any  one  person  of  this  char-  ,  system  of  infidelity  ;  whereas  nothing  is  ha- 
acter.  I  zarded  if  the  life   be  regulated  by  religion, 

1.  He  ought  to  have  studied  the  great  even  supposing  the  system  of  religion  ground- 
questions  of  religion  with  all  the  application  less.  An  unbeliever  who  is  not  ready  to  sa- 
that  the  capacity  of  his  mind,  and  the  number  crifice  his  dearest  passions  even  to  a  mere 
of  his  talents,  could  aduiit.     These  questions  '  probability  of  the   truth   of  the  doctrine  of 


Sbr.  XLV.] 


RIGHTEOUS  AND  THE  WICKED. 


897 


a  future  life,  gives  full  proof  of  the  depravity 
of  his  heart. 

Whether  there  be  any  one  in  the  worM, 
who,  in  spite  of  these  dispositions,  can  persuade 
himself  that  religion  has  no  character  of  truth, 
we  leave  to  the  judgment  of  God:  hut  as  for 
those  who  sin  against  any  of  the  rules  just  now 
mentioned  (and  how  many  reasons  have  we  to 
conclude  that  there  are  numbers  of  this  char- 
acter!)  they  are  included  in  the  sentence  of 
our  apostle,  and  they  deserve  to  feel  its  ut- 
most rigour.  *  The  unbelieving  s^hall  have 
their  part  in  the  lake  which  burnetii  with  fire 
and  brimstone.' 

W.  Let  us  advert  to  the  fourth  prejudice. 
Religions  are  indifferent.  We  will  not  go 
through  the  various  sects  of  Christianity,  and 
decide  these  litigious  questions.  Which  of 
these  religions  are  compatible  with  salvation  ? 
Which  of  these  religions  are  destructive  of  it.'' 
We  will  affirm  only  with  our  apostle,  that 
'  idolaters  shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake 
which  hurneth  with  fire  and  brimstone.'  We 
intend  particularly  to  wipe  off  that  imputa- 
tion which  the  church  of  Rome  constantly 
casts  on  our  doctrine.  Under  pretence  that 
we  have  never  been  willing  to  denounce  a 
sentence  of  eternal  damnation  against  mem- 
bers of  the  most  impure  sects,  they  affirm, 
that,  in  our  opinion,  people  may  be  saved  in 
their  community,  and  this,  they  say,  is  one  of 
the  articles  of  our  faith. 

This  is  a  sophism  which  you  have  often 
heard  attributed  to  a  prince,  who  had  united, 
as  far  as  two  such  different  things  could  be 
united,  the  qualities  of  a  great  king  with  those 
of  a  bad  Christian.  Having  a  long  time  hesi- 
tated between  the  peaceable  possession  of  an 
earthly  crown,  and  the  steadfast  hope  of  a 
heavenly  crown,  his  historians  tell  us,  he  as- 
sembled some  doctors  of  the  Roman  commu- 
nion, and  some  of  ours.  He  asked  the  first, 
Whether  it  were  possible  to  be  saved  in  the 
Protestant  communion  ?  They  answered.  No. 
He  then  asked  the  second,  Whether  it  were 
possible  to  be  saved  in  the  Roman  commu- 
nion? They  replied,  They  durst  not  decide 
the  question.*  On  ihis,  the  prince  reasoned 
in  this  manner.  '  The  Roman  Catholic  doc- 
tors assure  me  there  is  no  salvation  in  the 
Protestant  communion.  The  Protestants  dare 
not  affirm  that  there  is  no  salvation  in  the 
communion  of  Rome.  Prudence,  therefore, 
requires  me  to  abandon  the  Protestant  reli- 
gion, and  to  embrace  the  Roman  ;  because  in 
the  opinion  of  the  Protestants,  it  is  at  most 
only  probable  that  I  should  perish  in  the 
church  of  Rome,  whereas,  in  the  opinion  of 
the  Roman  Catholics,  it  is  demonstrative  that 
1  should  be  damned  in  the  Protestant  commu- 
nity.' We  will  not  attempt  to  investigate 
this  point  of  history,  by  examining  whether 
these  Protestant  ministers  betrayed  our  reli- 
gion by  advancing  a  proposition  contrary  to  it, 
or  whether  these  historians  betrayed  the 
truth  by  altering  the  answer  attributed  to  our 

*  This  artifice  of  Henry  the  Fourth  is  differently 
told  by  the  Catholics  :  they  say  that  the  Protestant 
doctors  answered,— A  Catholic  may  be  saved. 

3  E 


ministers.  Wliatever  we  lliink  of  this  histori- 
cal fact,  we  affirm  with  St.  John,  that  '  Idola- 
ters shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake  which 
burneth  with  fire  aiid  brimstone.' 

However,  we  ought  to  make  a  cautious  dis- 
tinction concerning  doctrmca,  as  we  do  con- 
cerning precepts,  a  distinction  between  ques- 
tions oi  fad  and  question-  ol'  right.  There  is 
a  question  of  right  in  regard  lo  precepts;  as 
for  example — Is  a  course  of  life  opposite  to  the 
precej>tb  oi  the  gos'.iel  a  damnable  state.''  To 
this  we  reply,  Undoubtedly  it  is.  There  is 
also  a  question  of  fact,  as  for  exanple — Shall 
all  those  who  follow  such  a  couis.  of  lifie  suf- 
fer all  the  rigour  of  damnation  ?  A  wise  man 
ought  to  ;iause  before  he  answers  this  ques- 
tion ;  because  he  does  not  know  whether  a 
man  who  has  spent  one  part  of  his  life  in  a 
course  of  vice,  may  not  employ  the  remaining 
part  in  repentance,  and  so  pa?s  into  a  state  to 
which  the  [)r'vileges  of  repentance  are  annex- 
eel.  In  like  manner,  there  are  (piestions  of 
fact  and  questioiis  of  right  in  regard  to  doc- 
trines. The  question  of  right  in  regard  to  the 
present  doetruie  is  this  :  Can  we  be  saved  ia 
an  idolatrous  community  ?  Certainly  we  can- 
not. Tlie  question  of  fact  is  this  :  Will  every 
member  of  an  idulafrous  community  be 
damned  ?  A  wise  man  ought  to  suspend  his 
judgment  on  this  question,  because  he  who 
had  spent  one  part  of  liit  life  in  an  idolatrous 
community,  may  employ  the  remaining  part 
in  repenting,  and  consequently  may  share  the 
privileges  of  repentance.  Except  in  this  case, 
according  to  our  principles,  '  Idolaters  shall 
have  their  part  in  the  lake  which  burneth 
with  fire  and  brimstone.'  But,  according 
to  our  principles,  the  Pionian  Catholic 
church  is  guilty  of  idolatry;  consequently, 
according  to  our  principles,  the  members  of 
the  church  of  Rome,  if  they  do  not  forsake 
that  Community,  are  among  such  as  '  shall  have 
tlieir  part  in  the  lake  which  burneth  with  fire 
and  brimstone.' 

If  it  be  necessary  to  prove,  that,  according 
to  our  princiides,  the  church  of  Rome  is  guilty 
of  idolatry,  the  evideice  is  easily  obtained. 
Let  us  form  a  distinct  i(.iea  of  what,  agreeably 
to  Scripture,  we  call  idolatry.  To  regard  a 
simple  creature  as  God  supreme  ;  to  render  to 
a  simple  creature  the  worship  that  is  due  only 
to  the  Supreme  God,  is  what  we  call  idolatry. 
Now,  according  to  our  principles,  the  membei-g 
of  the  church  of  Rom--'  do  render  to  a  creature, 
to  a  bit  of  bread,  such  worship  as  is  due  only 
to  the  supreme  God.  By  consequence,  accord- 
ing to  our  principles,  the  members  of  the 
church  of  Rome  are  guilty  of  idolatry. 

They  defend  themselves  by  a  somewhat 
specious  but  groundless  argument.  It  was 
employed  by  a  man-'  who  disgraced  his  name 
by  abandoning  the  Protestant  religion,  though, 
thanks  be  to  God,  I  hope,  I  and  my  famdy 
shall  always  be  enabled  to  continue  it  in  the 
list  of  sincere  Protestants.  His  words  are  these: 
'Two  or  three  arcicles,'  says  he, '  excited  strong' 
prejudices  in  my  mind  aiiainst  the  church  of 
Rome ;    transubstantiatiori,   the  adoration   of 


*  Mr.  Saurin  of  Paris. 


398 


THE  DOOM  OF  THE 


[Skr.  XLV. 


the  holy  sacrament,  and  the  infallibility  of  the 
church.  Of  these  three  articles,  that  of  the 
adoration  of  the  holy  sacrament  led  me  to  con- 
sider the  church  of  Rome  as  idolatrous,  and 
separated  me  from  its  communion.  A  book 
which  1  one  day  opened  without  design,  in- 
stantly removed  this  objection.  There  I  found 
a  distinction  betweon  error  of  place  in  wor- 
ship, and  error  of  object.  The  Ciitholic  wor- 
ships Jr-sus  Christ  in  the  eucharist,  an  object 
truly  adorable.  There  is  no  error  in  this  re- 
spect, ll  Jesus  Christ  be  not  really  present  in 
the  eucharist,  the  Catholic  worships  him  where 
he  is  not ;  this  is  a  mere  error  of  place,  and  no 
crime  of  idolatry.'  A  mere  sophism  !  B}'  the 
same  arg;ument  the  Israelites  may  be  excul- 
pated for  rendering;  divine  honours  to  the  gold- 
en calf.  We  must  distinguish  error  of  place 
from  error  of  object.  The  Israelite  worships 
in  the  golden  calfthe  true  God,  an  object  tru- 
ly adorable.  'To-morrow  is  a  feast  to  the 
Lord,  the  God,  O  Israel,  which  brought  thee 
up  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,'  Exod.  xxxii.  5. 
There  is  no  error  in  this  respect;  if  God  be 
not  really  present  in  the  golden  calf  the  Is- 
raelite worships  him  where  he  is  not,  a  mere 
error  of  place,  and  not  the  crime  of  idolatry. 
But  St.  Stephen  says  expressly  that  this  calf 
was  an  idol.  'They  made  a  calf,  and  offer'/d 
sacrifice  unto  the  idol,'  Acts  vii.  41.  By  con- 
sequence, error  of  place  in  worship  does  not 
exculpate  men  from  idolatry.  As,  therefore, 
according  to  our  principles,  there  is  an  error 
of  place  in  the  worship  which  Roman  Catho- 
lics render  to  their  host,  so  also,  according  to 
our  principles,  they  are  guilty  of  idolatry. 

But  are  we  speaking  only  according  to  our 
own  principles  ?  Have  we  seen  any  thing  in  the 
wilderness  of  Sinai  which  we  do  not  daily  see 
in  the  Roman  communion  ?  Behold,  as  in  the 
desert  of  Sinai,  an  innumerable  multitude, 
tired  of  rendering  spiritual  worship  to  an  in- 
visible God,  and  demanding  '  gods  to  be  made, 
which  shall  go  before  them  1'  Behold,  as  in  the 
desert  of  Sinai,  a  priest  forming,  with  his  own 
hands,  a  god  to  receive  supreme  adoration  ! 
See,  as  in  the  desert,  a  little  matter  modified 
by  a  mortal  man,  and  placed  upon  the  throne 
of  the  God  of  heaven  and  earth  !  Observe,  as 
in  the  desert,  the  Israelites  liberally  bestowing 
their  gold  and  their  jewels,  to  deck  and  adorn, 
if  not  to  construct  the  idol  !  Hark  !  as  in  the 
desert  of  Sinai,  priests  publish  profane  solem- 
nities, and  make  proclamation,  saying,  '  To- 
morrow is  a  feast  to  the  Lord  !'  Behold,  as  in 
the  desert,  the  people  rising  early  on  festivals 
to  perform  matins  !  Hearken!  crirninal  voices 
declare,  as  in  Sinai, '  These  are  thy  gods,  or 
this  is  thy  god,  O  Israel,  who  brought  thee  up 
out  of  the  land  of  Egypt.'  What  am  I  saying  ^ 
I  hear  expressions  more  shockin  ;  still.  This 
is,  O  shame  to  Christianity  !  O  scandal  in  the 
eyes  of  all  true  Christians  I  This  is,  yea.  this 
bit  of  bread,  on  which  a  priest  has  wrdten, 
Jesus  Christ  the  saviour  of  mankind,  this  is 
thy  God.  This  is  the  God  whom  all  the  an- 
gels in  heaven  adore.  This  is  tlie  God  '  by 
whom  all  things  were  created  that  are  in  liea- 
"ven,  and  that  are  in  earth,  visible  and  invisi- 
ble, whether  they  be  thrones,  or  dominions, 


principalities,  or  powers.'  This  is  the  God, 
who  upholds  all  things  by  the  word  of  his 
power.  This  is  the  God  who,  in  the  fulness 
of  time,  took  mortal  flesh.  This  is  the  God 
who,  for  thy  salvation,  O  Israel,  was  stretched 
on  the  cross.  This  is  he,  who  in  the  garden 
of  Gethsemane  said, '  O  my  father,  if  it  be  pos- 
sible, let  this  cup  pass  froai  me,'  Matt.  xxvi. 
39,  who  rose  conqueror  over  death  and  the 
grave,  who  passed  into  the  heavens,  and  at 
whose  ascension  the  heavenly  intelligences 
exclaimed,  '  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates, 
even  lift  them  up,  ye  everlasting  doors,  that 
the  Lord  of  hosts,  the  King  of  glory,  may 
come  in,'  P-.  xxiv.  7,  &c.  '  O  Judah,  Judah, 
thou  hast  justified  thy  sister  Samaria.  O  ye 
deserts  of  Sinai,  never  did  ye  see  any  thing 
equal  to  what  our  weeping.eyes  behold  !  Who 
is  on  the  Lord's  side  i"  Let  him  come  hither. 
Ye  sons  of  Levi,  separated  to  the  service  of  the 
Lord,  consecrate  j'ourselves  to-day  to  Jeho- 
vah.'— But  what  are  we  about?  Are  we  in- 
terrupting the  soft  still  voice  of  the  gospel,  to 
utter  the  thundering  commands  of  mount 
Sinai  ?  Shall  we  command  you  to-day,  as  Mo- 
ses did  formerly  the  Levites,  '  put  every  man 
his  sword  by  his  side,  and  go  in  and  out,  from 
gate  to  gate,  throughout  the  camp,  and  slay 
every  man  his  brother,  and  every  man  his 
companion,  and  every  man  his  neighbour.' — 
Ah,  Rome  !  Were  we  to  ado])t  this  method, 
}'ou  could  not  reproach  us ;  you  could  only 
complain  that  'vve  were  too  ready  to  learn  the 
Issons  you  have  taught  us,  and  too  eager  to 
imitate  your  bloody  example  I  Even  in  such 
a  case  we  should  have  one  great  advantage 
over  you  ;  our  hands  would  grasp  the  murder- 
ing sword  to  destroy  thee  only  tor  the  glory  of 
God,  whereas  thine  has  butchered  us  for  the 
honour  of  an  idol !  We  are  not  come  with  fire, 
and  blackness,  and  darkness,  and  tempest ; 
but  Zion,  though  all  mangled  by  thy  cruelty, 
utters  only  cool  exhortations,  affectionate  re- 
monstrances, and  tender  entreaties  ;  she  fights 
only  with  the  '  sword  of  the  Spirit,'  and  the 
'  hammer  of  the  word,'  Eph.  vi.  17  ;  Jer.  xxiii. 
29.  Ah  poor  people  !  How  long  will  you  live 
v/ithout  perceiving  the  golden  candlestick 
which  Jesus  Christ  has  lighted  up  in  his 
church  I  May  God  take  away  that  fatal  ban- 
dage, which  hides  the  truth  from  thine  eyes  ! 
Or,  if  this  favour  be  refused  us,  may  God  en- 
able us  to  take  away  from  thee  such  of  our 
children  as  thou  hast  barbarously  torn  from 
the  breasts  of  their  mothers,  in  order  to  make 
them,  like  thine  own,  the  children  of  a  harlot. 
V'.  To  proceed  to  the  last  prejudice.  J^Tojie 
but  the  vulgar  ought  to  be  afraid  of  commit- 
ttng  certain  crimes.  Kings  and  statesmen 
Will  be  judged  by  a  particular  law.  Tliegreat- 
ness  of  the  motive  that  iyiclined  them  to  man- 
age some  affairs  of  slate  will  pleid  their  ex- 
cuse, and  secure  them  from  divine  vengeance. 
What  reason  would  subjects  have  to  complain, 
and,  I  will  venture  to  add,  how  inse<'Ure  would 
jirinces  and  magistrates  be,  my  brethren,  if 
these  pretences  were  well-grounded  ;  if  they 
wlio  hold  our  lives  and  fortunes  in  their  hands, 
were  under  no  restraint  in  the  abuse  of  sove- 
reign power ;    and  if,  under  our  oppressions, 


Ser.  XLV.] 


RIGHTEOUS  AND  THE  WICKED. 


399 


we  could  not  inwardly  appeal  to  a  Supreme 
Governor,  and  say,  at  least  to  ourselve?,  in 
private,  '  I  saw  under  the  sun  the  place  of 
judgment,  that  wickedness  was  there,  and  the 
place  of  righteousness,  that  iniquity  was  there. 
I  said  in  mine  heart,  God  shall  judge  the 
righteous  and  the  wicked  ;  for  there  is  a  time 
there  for  every  purpose  and  for  every  work,' 
Eccles.iii.  16,  17. 

But  if  this  be  a  claim  of  tyranny,  it  is  not, 
however,  a  privilege  derived  from  religion. 
It  is  destroyed  by  St.  John  in  the  words  of 
our  text,  '  abominable,  and  murderers,  and 
poisoners,  and  all  liars,  shall  have  their  part 
in  the  lake  which  burneth  with  fire  and  brim- 
stone.' We  do  not  understand  that  the  apos- 
tle speaks  here  only  of  such  eminent  persons 
as  govern  mankind.  There  are  liars,  murder- 
ers, poisoners,  and  abominable  of  all  ranks  and 
conditions :  but  it  is  only  in  the  courts  of 
kings,  it  is  on  thrones,  it  is  at  the  head  of  ar 
mies,  and  in  the  persons  ot  such  as  are  usually 
called  heroes  in  the  world,  that  crimes  of  thi 
sort  are  eimobled  :  here  altars  are  erected,  and 
these  detestable  actions  elevated  into  exploits 
worthy  of  immortal  glory  ;  they  are  inserted 
in  our  histories,  in  order  to  be  transmitted  to 
the  latest  posterity. 

False  protestations,  by  which  a  statesman, 
if  I  may  speak  so,  obtain-  leave  to  lodge  m 
the  bosom  of  an  ally,  that  he  may  be  the  bet- 
ter able  to  stab  him  to  the  heart ;  indetermi- 
nate treaties,  and  frivolous  distmctions  be- 
tween the  letter  and  the  spirit  nf  a  public  in- 
strument ;  these,  which  we  call  illustrious  lies, 
these  are  exploits  worthy  of  immortal  glory  I 
Bloody  wars,  undertaken  less  for  the  good  of 
the  slate  than  for  the  glory  of  the  governors ; 
cruel  expeditions,  tragical  battles,  sieges  fool- 
hardy and  desperate  in  a  theory  of  the  milita- 
ry art,  but  practicable  in  the  eyes  of  ambition, 
or  rather  raving  madness  ;  rivers  discoloured 
with  blood;  heaps  of  human  bodies  loading 
the  earth ;  these  which  we  call  illustrious 
murders,  these  are  exploits  thought  worthy  of 
immortal  glory  !  Dark  machinations,  in  which 
treason  supplies  the  place  of  courage,  assassi- 
nation of  the  right  of  war,  secret  poison  of 
public  battle  :  these  are  actions  truly  abomin- 
able, yet  these  are  thought  worthy  of  immor- 
tal glory,  provided  they  be  crowned  with  suc- 
cess, and  provided  an  historian  can  be  found 
to  disguise  and  embellish  them  !  An  hi-torian, 
who  can  celebrate  and  adorn  such  he. nous 
crimes,  is,  if  possible,  more  aboiiunuble  than 
his  hero  who  committed  them. 

Shall  we  go  back  to  the  periods  of  f  ible .' 
Shall  we  take  example  from  th.)se  nations 
which  lived  vvihout  hope,  and  without  God 
in  the  world.-'  Shall  we  narrate  ancient  histo- 
ry? Shnll  we  pulilish  the  turpituiie  ot  mod  rn 
times.'  Ye  homd  crimis !  ye  frigiitfu.  ar- 
tioiis  I  ye  perfilious  outrages  !  morffitiorthe 
hearts  of  infernal  fur.es  than  ibr  the  bosoms  of 
mankind,  depart  into  eternal  silence,  and 
never  show  your  ghastly  features  again  I  Ne- 
ver were  propositions  more  unwarrantable 
than  these  :  the  vulgar  oidy  ought  to  be  afraid 
of  certain  crimes.  Kings  and  statesmen  will 
be  judged  by  a  particular  law.    The  greatness 


of  the  motive  that  inclined  them  to  manage 
some  affairs  of  state,  will  plead  their  excuse, 
and  secure  them  Irom  divine  vengeance. 

Why  were  so  many  commands  given  to 
princes  concerning  admmistration  of  justice, 
breaches  of  peace,  and  declarations  of  war  ? 
To  what  purpose  have  so  many  Pharaohs 
been  drowned,  Nebuchadnezzars  reduced  to 
the  condition  of  beasts,  Hernds  devoured  by 
worms,  and  strokes  of  divine  vengeance  fallen 
upon  the  proudest  heads,  except  to  teach  us 
that  no  creature  is  so  august,  no  throne  so 
magnificent,  no  dominion  so  invincible,  as  to 
free  a  creature  from  the  necessity  of  obeying 
his  Creator?  What  means  that  law  which 
God  formerly  gave  by  the  mouth  ol  Moses  ? 
'  When  thou  shalt  set  a  king  over  tliee,  he 
shall  not  multiply  wives  to  himself,  that  his 
heart  turn  not  away,'  Deut.  xvii.  14,  &c. 
He  shall  not  amass  lor  himself  silver  and  gold, 
'  And  it  shall  be,  when  he  sitleth  upon  the 
throne  of  his  kingdom,  that  he  shall  write 
himself  a  copy  of  this  law  in  a  book,  and  it 
shall  be  with  him.  and  he  shall  read  therein 
all  the  days  of  his  life,  that  he  may  learn  to 
fear  the  Lord  his  God,  to  keep  all  the  words  of 
thi?  law,  and  these  statutes,  to  do  them;  that 
his  hfart  be  not  lifted  up  above  his  brethren, 
and  that  he  turn  not  aside  from  the  command- 
ment  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the  left.'  What 
mean  these  thundering  words  ?  'Thou  pro- 
lane  wicked  prince  of  Israel  !  thy  day  is  come, 
thine  iniquity  si, all  have  an  end.  Thus  saith 
the  Lord  God,  Remove  the  diadem,  and  take 
olFthe  crown  ;  I  will  overturn  it,  and  it  shall 
be  no  more,'  F.zek.  xxi.  25 — 27.  In  one  word, 
what  does  Pt.  John  mean  by  the  words  of  my 
t.-xt?  '  All  liars  and  poisoners,  murderers  and 
abominable,  shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake 
which  burneth  with  fire  and  brini.stone.' 

It  would  be  difficult,  my  brethren,  for  men 
who  never  saw  any  tiling  greater  than  the 
courts  of  princes,  a  sort  of  earthly  go  Js,  to  ima- 
gine a  more  pompous  anil  venerable  image 
than  that  which  St.  John  exiiibits  here  to  our 
view.  He  brings  forth  the  terrible  day  in 
which  the  suj  reme  Lawgiver  will  bring 
earthly  judges  to  account  for  that  power  with 
which  he  intrusted  them,  and  of  which  most 
of  them  have  made  a  very  criminal  use. 
There,  all  their  flattering  titles  will  be  laid 
aside,  no  more  emperors,  monarchs,  arbiters 
of  peace  or  war ;  or  rather,  there  will  these 
titles  be  repeated  to  mortify  the  pride,  and  to 
abate  the  insolence,  of  every  one  who  abused 
them.  There,  pale,  trembling,  and  afraid 
will  apiiear  those  tyrants,  those  scourges  of 
Almighty  Go  i,  those  disturbers  of  mankind, 
who  once  made  the  earth  tremble  with  a 
single  ca-^t  o*  th-'ir  eyes.  Then  will  be  pro- 
.luced  the  vex'itions  they  have  caused,  the  un- 
just decrres  ihsy  have  pronounced,  the  fami- 
lies they  have  impoverished,  the  houses,  the 
cities,  the  kingdoms  they  have  burnt  to  ashes. 
Then  will  be  judged  the  famous  quarrels  of 
•\lexander  and  Darius,  Cyrus  and  Croesus, 
Pyrrhus  and  Fabricius,  Hannibal  and  Scipio, 
Caesar  and  Pompey,  ill  decided,  in  Cato's  opi- 
nion, by  the  gods  themselves  in  the  battle  of 
Pharsalia.   And  you,  you  who  hold  the  reins 


400 


GOD'S  CONTROVERSY  WITH  ISRAEL. 


[Ser.  XLV- 


ofthis  republic, 'you,  ill  resfarfl  to  whom  Wf 
o/ten  say  t<>  this  people,  'Let  every  soul  be 
subject  to  the  h  gher  jiowers  ;  the  powers  that 
be  are  onlained  of  Go'l ;  whosoever  resisteth 
power,  resisteth  tlie  ordinance  of  God,  and 
they  that  resist  shall  receive  to  themselves 
damnation,'  Rom.  xiii  1,2;  yon,  our  gover- 
nors and  lords,  what  appparaices  will  yon 
make  in  that  great  day,  and  whut  sentence 
will  you  then  receive?  Ah!  if  it  be  possibl? 
for  you  to  be  so  intoxicated  with  your  own 
grandeur  as  to  forget  the  iiiajesly  of  that  God. 
who  placed  you  at  the  heal  of  this  people,  and 
so  neglect  the  duties  of  your  station  ;  if  it  b 
possible  for  the  cries  of  the  oppressed  to  sound 
in  vain  in  your  ears,  and  bribes  to  blind  youi 
eyes;  if  it  be  possible  lor  you  to  bestow  the 
rewards  due  to  fidelity  and  courage  upon  so- 
licitation and  .intrigue,  to  sacrifice  the  puhlic 
interest  to  private  views;  if  a  personal  pique 
dissolve  a  union  essential  to  the  good  of  the 
state;  if  love  of  pleasure  consume  time  devo- 
ted to  the  administration  of  j  ustice ;  if  the  tears 


of  Sion  in  distress  be  not  tenderly  wiped 
away  ;  if  religion  and  good  manners  be  de- 
cried, and  trampled  on  with  impunity;  if 
Lord's-days  and  public  solemnities  be  openly 
profaned  ;  if,  in  a  word,  Christianity  be  =acri- 
fi.'.ed  to  worldly  policy,  what  will  your  condi- 
lion  be  I 

God  grant  this  people  may  always  be  as 
'lappy  in  the  character  of  their  governors  as  in 
the  gentle  constitution  of  their  government! 
day  a  visible  and  bountiful  benediction  rest 
upon  those,  who,  '  in  the  midst  of  a  crooked 
and  perverse  nation,  shine  as  lights  in  the 
world!'  Phil  ii.  15.  Never,  never  may  any 
be  at  the  head  of  the  state  who  are  unworthy 
of  being  members  of  the  church  !  God  grant 
we  may  i  ehold  you  who  are  intrusted  with 
the  public  welfare,  models  worthy  of  our  im- 
itation :  and  by  imitating  your  conduct  in  this 
life  may  we  follow  you  into  the  world  of  glory! 
Amen.  To  God  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever» 
Amen. 


SERMON  XI^VI.^ 


GOD'S    CONTROVERSY   WITH   ISRAEL. 


MicAH  vi.  1 — 3. 

Hear  ye  now  what  the  Lord  saith.  Arise,  contend  before  the  mountains,  and 
let  the  hills  hear  thy  voice.  Hear  ye,  O  mountains,  the  Lord's  controversy^ 
and  ye  strong  foundations  of  the  earth  :  for  the  Lord  hath  a  controversy 
tvith  his  people,  and  he  will  plead  with  Israel.  O  my  people,  what  have  I 
done  unto  thee?  and  wherein  have  I  wearied  thee?  testify  against  me. 


The  wickedness  of  Sodom  was  so  abomina 
ble,  when  God  was  about  to  consume  it  b) 
fire,  that  we  can  never  remark  without  aston- 
ishment his  condescension  to  Abraham,  when 
he  gave  him  leave  to  plead  for  tliai  doiestable 
city.  Abraham  himseh  was  amazed  at  it. 
He  was  afraid  of  intlammg  that  anger  which 
he  endeavoured  to  abate.  '  Oh !'  said  he, '  let 
not  the  Lord  be  angry,  an.i  I  will  speak.  Be- 
hold now,  1,  who  am  tut  dust  and  ashes,  have 
taken  upon  me  losjieali  unto  the  Lord,"  Gen. 
xviii.  30.  27.  Yet  God  tieard  him,  and  agreed 
to  spare  8odom,  and  to  pardon  an  innumera- 
ble multitude  of  guilty  persons,  on  condition 
that  a  small  number  ot  righteous  people  could 
be  found  among  th.^m.  Abraham  asked, 
'  Peradvenlure  there  be  fifty  righteous  within 
the  city,  W'lt  thou  not  spare  the  place,  for  the 
fifty  righteous  tiial  are  therein .-"  God  replied, 
*  If  1  find  in  Sodom  fifty  righteous,  1  will  spare 
all  the  place  for  their  sakes.'  Aliraham  con- 
tinued :  •  Peradvenlure  there  shall  lack  five 
of  the  fifty.'  Peradvenlure  there  shall  be  for- 
ty, peradvenlure  thirty,  peradvenlure  twen- 


♦  Tills  Sermon  wa.s  preached  on  a  fast-day,  at  the 
opening  of  n  campaign  in  the  year  170(5. 


ty,  peradvenlure  ten,'  Gen.  xviii.  24.  26.  28, 
29,  &c.  God  heanl  Abraham,  and  suffered 
hiin  to  proceed  to  the  utmost  of  his  compassion, 
waiting,if  I  may  speak  so,  till  his  servant  gave 
the  signal  for  the  destruction  of  Sodom.  So 
true  is  it,  that  his  essence  is  love,  and  that 
'  mercy  and  grace' are  the  strongest  emana- 
tions of  his  glory  !  Exod.  xxxiv.  6. 

But.  my  brethren,  if  we  admire  the  good- 
ness of  God,  when  he  suffers  only  one  worm 
of  the  earth  to  reason  against  his  judgments, 
aMdto  plead  ihe  cause  of  those  crim  nals  whose 
ruin  was  determined,  what  emotions,  pray, 
ought  the  objects  set  before  us  in  the  text  to 
produce  in  our  minds  to-day.'  Behold  !  in  the 
words  of  my  text,  behold  !  God  not  only  per- 
mitting the  sinner  to  plead  his  cause  before 
him,  and  suspending  his  sovereign  rights,  but 
behold  him  offering  himself  to  plead  before 
the  sinner,  behold  him  descending  from  his 
tribunal,  accounting  for  his  conduct,  and  sub- 
mitting himself  not  only  to  the  judgment  of 
one  of  his  creatures,  but  proposing  to  do  so  to 
us  all.  '  Hear  ye  what  the  Lord  saith. 
Arise,  contend  thou  before  the  mountains,  and 
let  the  hills  hear  thy  voice  Hear  ye,  O  moun- 
tains, the  Lord's  controversy,  and  ye  strong 


Ser.  XLVI.] 


GOD'S  CONTROVERSY  WITH  ISRAEL. 


401 


foundations  of  the  earth  ;  for  the  Lord  hath  a 
controversy  with  his  people,  and  he  will  plead 
with  Israel.  O  my  people,  what  have  I  done 
unto  thee  ?  and  wherein  have  1  wearied  thee .' 
testify  agiiinst  me.' 

This  IS  the  unheard  of  action  which  we  are 
goings  to  exhibit  to  you,  in  order  to  excite  in 
you  such  sentiments  of  contrition  and  repen 
tance  as  the  solemnity  of  the  day  requires  of 
you,  especially  now  that  l)ie  ami  of  the  Lord 
is  lifted  up  and  stretcl.ed  out  ov  er  your  heads, 
shall  I  jiay  to  destroy  or  lo  defend  you .' 

At  such  a  time  can  it  be  necessary  to  prepare 
your  minds,  and  solicit  your  attention.''  If) 
have  yet  any  more  wishes  to  form  for  your  fe- 
licity, I  conjure  you  by  the  walls  of  this 
church,  now  indeel  standing,  but  dooined 
to  be  razed  by  the  enemy ;  by  the  interests 
of  your  wives  ami  children,  whose  death  is 
determined  ;  by  your  regard  for  your  civil 
and  religious  liberties  ;  in  the  name  of  your 
magistrates,  generals,  ind  soldiers,  whose  pru- 
dence and  courage  cannot  succeed  without  the 
blessing  of  the  .\lmighty ;  I  conjure  you  to 
address  yourselves  to  t'.iis  exercise  with  atten- 
tive minds  and  accessible  hearts.  May  all 
■worldly  distractions,  may  a'l  secular  anxie- 
ties, troublesome  birds  of  prei/,  always  alight- 
ing on  our  sacrifices,  O  may  you  all  be  driven  I 
away  to-day  !  God  grant  we  may  be  left  alone  { 
■with  him  !  O  Lord,  help  us  to  repa.r  the 
breaches  made  in  our  Jerusalem,  to  prevent  j 
others  yet  threatened,  to  ongage  thee  the  God 
of  armies,  on  our  side,  and  to  draw  down  by 
our  prayers  and  tears  thy  benedictions  on  the 
state  and  the  church  !   Amen. 

Before  we  enter  into  the  spirit  ot'our  text,  i 
let  us  take  a  cursory  view  of  the  terms  ;  each  '. 
deserves  our  attention.     Hear  ye  wnat  the  i 
Lord  saith.     Hills,  mountains,  ye  strong  foun-  ! 
dations  of  the  earth,  hear  ye  what  the  Lord 
saith.'    What  loftiness   in  these  terms !    This  | 
is  to  prepare  the  mind  for  great  things.     It  is 
a  bad  maxim  of  orators  to  promise  much  to 
auditors.     The  imagnation  of   the  hearer  of- 
ten outflies  that  of  the  speaker.     Artlul  rhe- 
toricians choose  to  surprise  a:id  amaze  their 
hearers  by  ideas  new  and  unexjjected,  so  that 
the  subjects  of  their  orations  may  appear  sub- 
lime by  being  strange. 

But  has  the  Holy  Spirit  need  of  our  rules 
of  rhetoric,  and  is  the  everlasting  gospel  sub- 
ject to  our  oratorical  laws  ?  There  is  no  pro- 
portion between  the  human  soul,  to  which  the 
prophet  addresses  himseli,  and  the  spirit  of 
that  God  who  animates  the  prophet.  How 
great  soever  your  expectation  may  be,  your 
expectation  will  be  always  exceeded.  Great 
objects  will  not  be  wanting  to  ex"rcise  your 
capacities,  your  cajjacities  indeed  may  want 
ability  to  nivestgate  them.  '  The  thoughts 
of  God  will  always  be  hiijher  than  your 
thoughts,  as  the  heavens  will  always  be  higher 
than  the  earth,'  Isa.  Iv.  8.  A  prophet  tre- 
quently  seems  at  first  to  present  only  one  ob- 
ject to  view ;  but  on  a  nearer  examination 
his  one  object  includes  many ;  he  seems  at 
first  only  to  speak  of  a  temporal  deliverer, 
but  he  speaks  of  the  Messiah  ;  at  first  the 
present  life  seems  only  intended,  but  at  length 


we  find  eternity  is  contained  in  his  subject. 
Our  prophet  had  reason,  therefore,  to  exclaim, 
'  Mountains,  hills,  ye  strong  foundations  of  the 
earih,  hear  ye.' 

'  Hear  ye  what  the  Lord  saith,'  adds  the 
prophet.  It  is  the  Lord,  who  speaks  1  y  the 
mouths  of  hi-i  servants  ;  to  them  he  commits 
his  treasure,  the  ministry  of  reconciliation. 
These  treasures  indeed,  are  in  earthen  ves- 
sels ;  but  they  are  treasures  of  salvation,  and 
w!iatever  regards  salvation  interests  you. 
Vlinistcrs  are  frail  and  feeble;  but  they  are 
ministers  of  the  Lord,  and  whoever  comes, 
from  him  ought  to  be  respected  by  you. 
When  we  censure  a  sinner,  when  we  make 
our  pliices  of  worship  resound  with  Analhe- 
mns,  M iranatkas,  instantly  we  excite  mur- 
muring and  complaints.  My  brethren  if  at 
any  time  we  stretch  these  hands  to  seize  the 
h  Im  of  the  state,  if  we  pretend  to  counteract 
your  sound  civil  polity,  if  under  pretence  of 
pious  purposes  we  endeavour  officiously  to 
intermeddle  With  your  domestic  aifairs,  mark 
Its  for  suspicious  and  dangerous  persons,  and 
drive  us  back  to  our  school?  and  studies;  but 
when  we  are  in  this  pulpit,  when  we  preach 
nothing  to  you  but  what  proceeds  from  the 
mouth  of  God  liimself,  and  no  other  laws  than 
those  which  come  from  his  throne,  be  not  sur- 
pnsedwhen  we  say  to  you, hear  us  with  respect, 
hear  us  with  attention.  '  W'^  are  ambassa- 
dors for  Christ.  The  J.,ord  hath  spoken.' 
This  is  our  commission,  these  are  our  creden- 
tials. 

'  Arise,  contend  thou  before  the  mountains, 
and  let  the  hdls  hear  thy  voice.  Hear  ye 
hills,  hear  ye  mountains,  hear  ye  strong  foun- 
dations of  the  earth,  hear  ye  what  the  Lord 
saith.  When  Go  I  speaks,  ail  ought  to  attend 
to  what  he  says.  lie  causes  the  most  insensi- 
ble creatures  to  hear  his  voice.  '  The  voice 
of  the  Lord  is  powerful,  the  voice  of  the  Lord 
is  lull  of  majesty,  the  voice  of  the  Lord 
breaketh  the  cedars  of  liebanon.  it  m;iketh 
Sirioti  to  skip  like  a  young  unicorn,  it  divideth 
the  Hames  of  fire,  it  shakelh  (he  wilderness,  it 
maketh  the  forest'^  bare,'  Ps.  xxix.  3,  &c. 
The  wiiole  universe  knows  this  voice,  the 
whole  universe  submits  to  it.  The  voice  of 
God  does  more  than  I  have  mentioned.  It 
reigns  in  empty  space ;  •  It  caileth  those 
things  which  be  not  as  though  they  were. 
By  It  the  heavens,  and  all  their  host,  were 
made.  God  sj.ake,  and  it  was  done  ;  he  com- 
manded, and  it  stood  last.'     Ilom.  iv.  17. 

There  is  but  one  being  in  nature  deaf  to  the 
voice  of  God;  that  being  is  the  sinner.  He, 
more  insensible  than  the  earth  and  harder  tliaa 
the  rocks,  refuses  to  leiiii  an  ear.  The  pro- 
phet is  forced  to  address  himself  to  inanimate 
creatures,  to  hills  and  mountains,  ai  d  strong 
fbnniatioris  of  the  earth.  '  Hear  ye  hills, 
hear  ye  mountains,  ye  stronir  foundations  of 
tlie  earth,'  and  put  my  people  to  the  blush. 
*The  ox  knows  h(s  owner,  and  the  ass  his 
master's  crib;  but  Irael  doth  not  know,  my 
people  do  not  consider,'  Isa.  i.  3.  '  Israel 
hath  forgotten  the  God  that  formed  him,  and  is 
unmindful  of  the  rock  that  begat  him.'  Deut. 
xxxii.  10. 


402 


GOD'S  CONTROVERSY  WITH  ISRAEL. 


[Skr.  XLVI. 


Alas!  how  exactly  does  Israel  now  re- 
semble Israel  in  the  days  of  Micah  !  When 
we  speak  for  God,  we  generally  observe  ab- 
sent minds,  wandering  eyes,  and  insensible 
hearts.  In  vain  we  say,  '  The  Lord  hath 
spoken,  hear  what  the  Lord  saith.'  It  does 
not  signify,  the  answer  given  us  is,  '  Who  is 
the  Lord,  that  I  should  obey  his  voice  ?'  Each 
wants  a  gospel  of  his  own.  Each  seizes  the 
sacerdotal  censer.  A  rigid  morality  is  not 
suited  to  the  taste  of  our  auditors.  Every 
sinner  says  of  the  preacher  of  it,  as  an  im- 
pious king  once  said  of  Micaiah, '  I  hate  him, 
for  he  doth  not  prophecy  good  concerning 
me,  but  evil,'  1  Kings  xxii.  8.  Henceforth, 
then,  we  must  address  ourselves  to  these  arch- 
es, and  pillars,  and  walls,  our  auditory  is  in- 
sensible. 

*  The  Lord  hath  a  controversy  with  his 
people.'  What  a  controversy,  my  brethren  ! 
Never  was  such  a  cause  heard  before  any 
judges.  Never  was  a  court  concerned  in  an 
affair  of  such  importance.  The  controvert- 
ings  parties,  the  manner  of  pleading,  and 
the  matter  in  dispute,  are  all  worthy  of  at- 
tention. 

The  parties  who  are  they?  On  the  one 
part  the  Lord  of  univ  rsal  nature,  he  '  before 
whom  all  nations  are  as  a  drop  of  a  bucket, 
he  that  si'telh  upon  the  circle  of  the  earth, 
and  considereth  the  inhabitants  thereof  as 
grasshoppers ;  he  that  weighed  the  moun- 
tains in  scales,  and  the  hills  in  a  balance,'  Isa. 
xl.  15.  22.  12.  On  the  other  part,  man,  Is- 
rael, the  church.  So  that  it  is  a  husband 
pleading  against  his  wife,  a  parent  against  his 
children,  the  Creator  agaitist  his  creature. 
Who  ever  heard  of  a  controversy  between 
parties  more  worthy  of  consideration  ! 

The  manner  of  pleading  this  cause  is  yet 
more  remarkable, '  The  Lord  hath  a  contro- 
versy with  his  people.'  V\  ho  can  coolly  hear 
this  language!  .4t  the  sound  of  these  words 
conscience  'takes  affright,  the  sitiner  flees  to 
the  clefts  ol  the  rocks,  and  calls  to  the  mou  i- 
tiiins  to  iall  on  him,  and  cover  him  (rom  the 
wrath  of  Jeho\ah.  Each  exclaims  with  a 
prophet,  '  Who  among  us  can  dwell  with  de- 
vouring fire  ?  Who  among  us  can  dwell  with 
everlasting  burnings?'  Isa.  xxxiii.  14.  Each 
cries  with  the  ancient  Isiaelites, '  Let  not  God 
speak  with  us,  lest  we  die,"  Exod.  xx.  19,  and 
with  Job,  '  How  should  man  be  just  with 
God?'  chap.  xi.  2.  But  peace  be  to  your  con- 
sciences !  God  does  not  come  to  you  to-day 
with  the  dreadful  ensigns  ol  his  vengeance.  If 
he  intends  to  cast  the  sinner,  it  is  not  by  angry 
reproaches,  but  by  reproofs  of  his  love.  Hear 
him.  '  O  my  people,  what  have  1  done  unto 
thee?  whereni  have  1  wearied  thee?  testify 
against  me.'  He  knows  you  have  nothing  to 
allege,  but  he  means  to  affect  you  by  gener- 
ous motives ;  he  means  to  excite  in  you  that 
repentance  which  is  not  to  be  repented  of,  that 
godly  sorrow,  that  broken  and  contrite  heart 
which  is  of  inestimable  value  in  his  sight. 

As  for  you  who  have  need  of  thunder  and 
lightning,  all  you  who  must  have  hell  opened 
under  your  feet,  all  you  whose  souls  are  insen- 
sible to  motives  of  justice  and  equity,  depart 


from  this  assembly.  We  are  not  preaching  to 
you  to-day.  We  speak  to  the  people  of  God. 
'  The  Liifd  hath  a  controversy  with  his  people. 
The  Lord  will  plead  with  Israel.'  We  address 
such  of  you  as  have  hearts  to  feel  these  tender 
expressions,  expressions  so  tender  that  nothing 
in  uninspired  poets  and  orators  can  equal  them; 
'O  my  people,  what  have  I  done  unto  thee? 
and  wherein  have  I  wearied  thee  ?  testify 
against  me.' 

In  fine,  the  matter  of  this  controversy  is  re- 
markable ;  it  is  the  whole  conduct  of  man  to 
God,  and  the  whole  conduct  of  God  to  man. 
God  is  willing  to  exercise  his  patience  to  hear 
the  complaints  of  his  people,  but  he  requires 
in  return,  that  his  people  should  hear  his 
against  themselves. 

This  is  a  general  view  of  our  text ;  but  are 
general  observations  sufficient  on  a  subject 
that  merits  the  most  profound  meditation  ? 
We  must  go  into  the  matter ;  we  must  go 
even  to  the  bottom  of  this  controversy  :  we 
must  hear  both  parties,  how  disproportionate 
soever  they  may  be,  and  how  improper  soever 
it  may  seem  to  confront  them  ;  we  must  ex- 
amine whether  the  fault  lie  in  God  or  in  man. 
Forgive,  0  God  !  if  worms  of  the  earth  pre- 
sume to  agitate  the  rash  question,  and  to  plead 
thus  in  thy  presence  !  Thy  condescension  will 
only  dispky  thy  glory.  '  Thou  wilt  be  justi- 
fied when  thou  speakcst,  and  be  clear  when 
thou  judgest,'  Ps.  li.  4. 

Let  US  first  hear  what  complaints  man  has 
to  bring  against  God,  and  what  God  has  to 
answer.  Then  let  us  see  what  complaints 
God  has  to  bring  against  man,  and  what  man 
can  allege  in  his  own  defence.  But,  as  we 
have  already  hinted,  you  will  not  be  surpris- 
ed, my  brethren,  if  we  sometimes  forget  the 
prophet  ;md  the  Jew-,  to  whom  he  spoke,  and 
consider  the  text  as  it  regards  Christians  in 
geneial,  and  this  congregation  in  particular. 

That  a  creature  should  complain  ol  his  Cre- 
ator sliould  seem  a  paradox.  Of  him  every 
creature  hclds  his  life,  motion,  and  being. 
The  air  he  bre;ilhes,  the  animation  of  his 
frame,  the  suu  that  gives  him  light,  the  earth 
that  bears  him  up,  all  are  emanations  of  the 
goodness  of  his  Creator.  Yet,  stiange  as  it 
may  appear,  it  is  certain,  man  complains  of 
God  To  «et  the  Deity  at  nought,  to  trample 
his  laws  under  foot,  to  blas|>heme  his  holy 
name,  to  harden  under  the  tenderest  mai-ks  of 
his  love,  as  we  do  every  day,  is  not  this  to 
murmur?  Is  not  this  to  complain  ? 

Let  us  hear  these  complaints.  You  have 
your  wish,  my  brethren,  and  are  all  of  you 
to-day  in  the  cond  tion  in  which  Job  desired 
to  be,  when,  in  excess  of  grief,  he  uttered 
these  emp'iatical  words, '  O  that  I  knew  where 
I  might  find  Him  !  I  would  go  even  to  his 
seat.  I  would  order  my  cause  before  him,  and 
fill  my  mouth  with  arguments.  I  would  know 
the  words  which  he  would  answer  me,  and 
understand  what  he  would  say  unto  me,' chap, 
xiii.  3,  5.  Order  this  cause,  mo  als,  prepare 
these  arguments,  God  is  ready  to  hear  you. 
When  we  enter  into  our  own  hearts,  we  find 
we  are  apt  to  complain  of  God  on  three  ac- 
counts :  his  law  seems  too  severe  ;  his  tempo- 


Ser.  XLVI.] 


GOD'S  CONTROVERSY  WITH  ISRAEL. 


403 


ral  favours  too  small ;  and  his  judgments  too 
rigorous.  Let  us  follow  man  in  these  three 
articles. 

The  laws  of  God  seem  too  severe.  '  My 
people,  what  have  I  done  unto  Ihee  ?'  To  this 
concupiscence  answers,  I  choose  to  domineer 
in  the  world  ;  but  God  would  have  me  be 
humble,  wash  the  feet  of  his  disciples, '  esteem 
others  better  than  myself,'  Phil.  ii.  3,  and 
place  myself,  so  to  speak,  in  the  meanest  post 
in  the  world.  I  like  to  amass  riches  ;  but  God 
requires  my  '  conversation  to  be  without  cov- 
etousness,'  Hob.  xiii.  5,  and  he  would  have 
me  learn  of  lilies  and  sparrows  to  confide  in 
his  Providence.  I  love  to  live  well,  and  to 
fare  sumptuously  every  day  ;  hut  God  requires 
me  to  be  sober,  to  '  keep  under  my  boily,  and 
bring  it  into  subjection,'  1  Cor.  ix.  27,  and  in- 
stead of  living  to  myself,  to  take  from  volup- 
tuousness, and  expend  what  I  save  in  charity 
to  others.  I  love  to  divulge  the  vices  of  a 
neighbour,  and  to  erect  my  reputation  on  the 
ruin  of  his;  but  God  threatens  to  exclude 
slanderers  from  his  kingdom.  In  a  word,  the 
law  of  God  controls  every  passion  of  my  heart. 
Ah  I  why  did  God  give  me  laws  so  opposite 
to  my  inclinations,  or  why  did  he  give  me  in- 
clinations so  opposite  to  his  laws  ? 

I  understand  you,  sinners,  you  wish  God 
had  formed  religion,  not  only  on  the  eternal 
rules  of  '  righteousness  and  judgment,  which 
are  the  base  of  his  throne,'  Ps.  xcvii.  2,  but  on 
the  suggestions  of  such  passions  as  animate 
you.  Religion,  intended  by  its  wisdom  to  free 
the  world  from  the  vices  that  disfigure  it, 
should  have  revealed,  in  your  opinion,  more 
ample  methods  of  committing  these  very  vices, 
and  provide  for  the  hardening  of  such  con- 
sciences as  the  justice  of  God  means  to  terrify. 
You  wish  that  the  sovereign  God,  by  a  con- 
descension incompatible  with  the  purity  of  his 
perfections,  had  imbibed,  as  it  were,  the  wick 
ed  views  and  inclinations  of  sinful  aian,  sinful 
man  being  so  base  and  so  wicked  as  to  refuse 
to  conform  to  the  holiness  of  the  supreme 
God. 

But  hast  thou,  man,  sufficiently  reflected  on 
this  article?  Thou  complainest  of  the  laws  of 
God.  Who  art  thou?  Whence  dost  thou 
come  ?  Who  gave  thee  thy  being?  Is  not  God 
thy  governor .''  7'his  firmament  before  thine 
eyes,  that  infinite  space  in  which  thine  imagi- 
nation is  absorbed,  those  heavenly  bodies  re- 
volving ovfr  thy  head,  the  earth  beneath  thy 
feet,  is  not  this  the  empire  of  God?  And  you, 
Tiie  treature,  confined  in  a  corner  of  the  uni- 
verse, you  house  of  clay,  you  worm  of  the 
earth,  you  nothing,  lighter  than  vanity  itself, 
you,  who  are  only  a  vain  phantom,  walking  in 
a  vain  show,  do  you  murmur  at  the  laws  of 
God?  would  you  be  Lord  of  religion?  would 
you  either  say  to  God,  command  this,  forbid 
that,  or  would  you  mount  his  throne,  and  give 
the  universe  law  ?  What  presumption  ! 

You  complain  oi  the  laws  of  God  Are  not 
these  laws  just  in  themselves?  God  requires 
you  to  love  hiin.  Is  it  possible  to  refuse  obe 
dience  to  this  just  command,  coiuideriiig  the 
eminent  perftotion?,  the  majesty,  ai>d  benevo- 
lence of  him  who  requires  your  esteem?    God 


requires  you  to  love  your  neighbour.  And 
would  it  be  right  that  you,  made  of  the  same 
dust  as  your  neighbour,  and  doomed  both  to 
return  to  dust  again  :  would  it  be  right  for 
you,  under  pretence  of  some  exterior  advan- 
tages in  your  own  condition,  to  cherish  a  self- 
complacence  that  would  debase  the  dignity  of 
human  nature,  and  teach  mankind  to  estimate 
their  worth  by  external  appendages  ?  Would 
it  be  fair  in  civil  society  that  each  should  con- 
tribute to  your  happiness,  that  the  artist, 
should  assist  you  by  his  industry,  the  scholar 
by  his  learning,  the  statesman  by  his  wisdom, 
the  soldier  by  his  courage,  and  that  you,  a 
simple  spectator  of  all  these  thin2;s,  should 
think  of  nothing  but  enjoying  yourself  at  the 
expense  of  all  mankind?  Would  this  be  right? 
Are  your  complaints  well  grounded  ?  '  My 
people,  what  have  I  done  unto  thee?  wherein 
have  I  wearied  thee?  testify  against  me.' 

You  complain  of  the  laws  of  God.  But 
what  is  the  design  of  all  these  laws  !  Is  it  not  to 
make  you  as  happy  as  possible?  Judge  again 
yourself.  Imagine  yourself  violating  all  the 
divine  laws,  having  no  veneration  for  God,  no 
love  for  your  neighbours,  being  haughty,  over- 
bearing, a  liar,  and  a  slanderer.  Lna^ine  your- 
self on  the  other  hand,  humble,  pious,  zealous, 
patient,  charitable.  Is  it  not  clear,  that,  in 
spite  of  the  violence  of  your  passions,  you 
would  like  yourself  best  in  the  condition  last 
mentioned  ?  If  your  passions  have  so  blinded 
your  mind  as  to  incapacitate  you  for  entering 
into  these  reflections,  imagine  two  men,  the 
one  animated  with  the  vices,  and  the  other 
with  the  virtues  just  spoken  of,  and  if  you 
can  prefer  the  vicious  man  before  the  virtuous, 
I  agree  you  shall  complain  of  the  laws  of  God. 

You  complain  of  the  divine  laws.  But  are 
not  these  laws  infinitely  proper  to  make  you 
happy  in  this  world  ?  In  what  state  would  the 
human  heart  be,  what  bloody  scenes  would 
it  revolve,  were  God  to  give  it  up  to  thn  in- 
fernal passions  of  envy,  to  excessive  sensuality, 
to  the  miserable  anxieties  of  avarice,  or  to  the 
tumultuous  rage  of  ambition?  Imagine  a  so- 
ciety whf're  robbery,  assassination,  and  adul- 
tery were  allowed  ;  a  society  in  which  self- 
interest  was  the  only  motive,  pacsion  the  only 
law  and  no  boutids  set  to  sir.  ^ua  such  as  am- 
bition chose  ;  where  the  magisLi  ai'p  was  op- 
pressing the  peopi  ',  the  people  revolting 
against  the  ma^-i^'r^te;  where  frienJ  was  be- 
traying friend.  niA  the  receiver  stabtjing  his 
benefactor;  ,ild  you  consent  lohve  in  such 
a  society?  inagine  an  opposite  plan,  stretch 
your  fanr  ,is  far  as  possible,  and  the  farther 
you  go  t ,;  more  fully  -svill  vuu  perceive,  that 
nothing  (:  ,,e  so  vvjIi  contrived  to  produce 
present  human  felicity  as  the  divine  law;  and 
that,  e\-en  supposing  some  particular  cases,  in 
which  obedience  is  attended  with  loss,  aflSic- 
tion,  and  pain,  yet  in  all  cases  there  is  ample 
indemnity  both  in  a  hope  of  future  happiness, 
and  in  an  enjoyment  of  present  pleasure,  aris- 
ing from  a  consciousness  of  real  rectitude  and 
upright  self-approbation. 

You  complain  of  the  laws  of  God.  But 
does  not  God  exemplify  all  these  laws  himself? 
He  commands  you  to  be  just.  Is  not  he  himself 


404 


GOD'S  CONTROVERSY  WITH  ISRAEL. 


[Ser.  XLVI. 


just?  Righieousiiess  and  judgment,  jastice.  and 
equity,  are  the  bases  of  his  throne.  He  re- 
quires you  to  be  humble.  But  although  this 
virt'ie  may  seem  repug'Tiant  to  the  diviiip  na- 
ture, yei  we  have  beheld  the  prodigy  of  God 
humbling  himself,  of  one,  who  '  thought  it  not 
robbery  to  be  equal  with  God,  making  himself 
of  no  reputation,  and  taking  upon  himself  th*: 
form  of  a  servant  !'  Plul.  ii.  6,  7.  God  re- 
quires us  to  be  benevolent.  Is  ni  t  he  '  love  !* 
.Are  we  not  all  overwhelmed  with  his  favours? 
Has  he  not  given  us  his  Son?  O  admirable 
beauty  of  religion  !  My  brethren,  it  transforms 
a  creature  into  Ihe  image  of  his  Creator  !  O 
matchless  condescension  of  tiie  God  we  a  lore  ? 
He  unites  true  happiness  to  an  imitation  of  his 
attributes,  and  invites  us  to  participate  his 
happiness  by  partaking  of  bis  holiness. 

You  complain  of  the  laws  of"  God.  But 
■what  does  God  require  of  you  but  to  endea- 
vour to  please  him-"  Does  he  not  promise  to 
accept  your  sincere  obedience,  tliough  it  be 
accompanied  with  many  frailties  and  great 
imperfections?  Has  he  not  engaged  to  assist 
you  by  the  essential  aid  of  the  iloly  Spirit? 
Brethren  enter  into  your  own  hearts,  listen  to 
the  suggestions,  the  joys,  the  hopes  excited  in 
your  own  consciences.  This  is  the  hand  of  the 
Lord  drawing  you;  this  is  the  ligiit  of  heaven 

*  shining  in  your  hearts;'  this  is  (he  Holy 
Spirit '  converting  the  soul,'  Ps.  xix.  7.  Should 
God  descend  and  stand  among  you,  amidst 
thunders  and  fires  like  those  of  Vjount  Sinai ; 
should  he  stand  among  you  surrounded  with 

*  blackness,  and  darkness,  and  tempest ;'  should 
he,  from  the  centre  of  all  these  tbrmidable  en- 
signs of  dreadful  majesty,  declare,  '  Cursed  is 
every  one  that  continueth  not  in  all  things  writ- 
ten in  the  book  of  the  law  to  do  them,"  Gal. 
iii.  10,  human  frailty  might  serve  for  an  ex- 
cuse ;  but  he  speaks,  as  we  said  before,  to  his 
people,  to  them  he  presents  himself  with  all 
the  attractives  of  grace.  j 

Ah  J  were  you  to  deplore  your  depravity  ! 
Were  you  to  say  in  the  bitterness  of  your  soul, 

*  O  wretched  man  that  I  am  1  who  siiall  deliver  j 
me  from  the  body  of  this  death  !'  Rom.  vii. 
24.  God  himself  would  comfort  you,  he 
■would  tell  you,  that  'he  would  not  break  a 
bruised  reed,  nor  quench  the  smoking  flux,' 
Matt.  x'i.  20.  If,  sinking  under  a  sense  of  sin. 
you  were  to  cast  youisplf  at  his  feet,  and  im- 
plore his  assistance,  he  would  give  j-ou  his 
Holy  Spirit,  who,  couv«ying  light  and  strength 
through  all  your  heart,  would  eradicate  all 
your  sins.  But  you  love  sin,  you  thrust  back 
the  mighty  hand  stretched  out  to  help  you, 
you  '  grieve  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  turn  the 
grace  of  God  intolasciviousness,'  Eph.  iv.  30  ; 
Jude  4,  and  then  complain  that  the  laws  of 
God  are  too  severe.  You  consider  God  the 
Lawgiver  as  a  mortal  enemy,  who  attacks  all 
your  pleasures.  Ah  I  how  unjust  are  your 
complaints !  '  O  my  people,  what  have  I  done 
Unto  thee  ?  Are  my  commandments  grievous, 
is  not  my  yoke  easy,  my  burden  ligh«  ?  Am  I 
not  mild  and  lowly  in  heart?  O  my  people, 
■what  have  I  done  unto  thee  ?  and  wherein 
have  I  wearied  thee  ?  testify  against  me.' 

The   second   class   of  human  complaints, 


agahist  God  regard  him  as  the  governor  of  the 
world.  Man  complains  of  Providence,  the 
economy  of  it  is  too  narrow  and  confined,  the 
temuoral  benefits  bestowed  are  too  few  and 
partial. 

Let  us  do  justice  to  human  nature,  my  bre- 
thren. If  we  cannot  justify  this  complaint,  let 
us  acknowledge  there  is  an  appearance  of  equi- 
ty in  it.  This  comLilaint  we  allow,  has  ^ome 
colour.  God  presents  mmself  to  us  in  religiwn 
under  the  tenderesl  relations,  as  a  fr-end.  a 
brother,  a  parent,  a  husband  ;  '  the  earth'  be- 
longs to  this  Friend,  '  and  the  fulness  thereof 
IS  at  the  disposal  of  this  God,  anit  a  single  act 
of  his  will  wo  dd  instantly  fill  our  liouses  with 
pleasures,  riches,  and  honours  :  yet  be  leaves 
us  in  misery  and  indigence,  and  it  would  be 
in  vain  to  search  the  New  T'stament  lor  a 
single  passage  to  ground  a  hope  that  we  should 
become  rich,  reputable,  and  honourable  in  the 
world  by  sincerely  practising  the  precepts  of 
I  Christianity. 

I      If  this  complaint  at  first  sight   seem  unan- 
swerable   in    the  mouth  of  a  Christian,  it  is 
i  precisely  from  the  mouth  of  a  Christian  that 
:  it  cannot  come  without  extreme  ignorance  and 
I  ingratitude,  if  you  be  Christians  you  must  be 
i  so  affected  with  the  numberless  benefits   be- 
stow ed  on  you,  that  it  is  inconceivable  how 
an  idea  of  such  temporal  blessings  as  you  think 
;  necessarv   to   complete   your    happiness,  can 
make  such  an   impression  on  your   mind,  or 
find  a  place  in  your  heart.     Being  Christians, 
I  you  are  persuailed  that  God  has  '  blessed  you 
with  all  spiritual  blesyngs  in  heavenly  places 
in  Christ.     That  he  hath   chosen  you   in  him 
before  the  foundation  of  the  world,  that   he 
predestinated  you  unto  the  adoption  of  chil- 
dren by  Jesus  Christ  himself,  according  to  the 
good  pleasure  of  his  will,"  Eph.  i.  3,  &c.     Be- 
ing Christians,  you  believe,  that  '  God  so  loved 
you,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that 
you  bi-lieving  in  him  should  not  perish   but 
have   everlasting  lite,'  John  iii.  16      As  you 
are  Christians,  you   are  persuaded,   that   for 
your  sakes  the  Lord  has  'shaken  t'le  heavens, 
the  earth,  the  sea,  and  the  dry  land,'  and  '  nath 
sealed  you  and  given  you  t!ie  earnest  of  the 
Spirit  in  your  hearts,'  Hag.  ii.   6;  2  Cor.  i. 
22.     Being  Christians,  you  are  convinced  that 
the    I  ublic   ministration  of  the  divine  word, 
the  ordinances  of  religion  so  often  administered 
to  you,  are  evidences  of  the  watchful  care  of 
that  Providence  over  you.  which  gives  'some 
aj.osiles,  some  pastors  and  teachers,  for   the 
periecting  of  the  saints,  and  for  the  work  of 
the  ministry,'  Eph.  iv.  II,  12.     You  believe, 
for  you   are  Christians,  that,  when    you    die, 
heaven  will  be  opened  to  you  as  it  was  for- 
merly to  Stephen;    that  angels  will  upliold 
you   in   your  agony,  as  they  once  comforted 
your  Redeemer  ;    and  that,  how  ditficult  so- 
ever the  race  may  be    you  shall  surmount  all, 
and   finish  with  a   song   of  ecstatic   triumph. 
Being  Christians,  you   believe  there  are  'in 
vfiur  father's  house  many  mansions,' that  Jesus 
Ciirist  is  'gone  to  prepare  a  place  for  you,' 
and  that,  th'-oughout  all  eternity,  your  happi- 
ness shall   sufTer  no  diminution.     Yea,  being 
Christians,  you  are  already  '  quickened  with 


Ser.  XLVI.] 


GOD'S  CONTROVERrfY  WITH  loRAtlL. 


405 


Christ,'  and  even  now  '  sit  with  him  in  hea- 
venly places,'  Ephes.  ii.  5,  6. 

Is  It  imaginable,  that  people  enjoying  so  many 
advanti';re«,  favoured  wilh  so  many  benefils, 
and  elevated  with  such  'glorious  hopes,  -hould 
complain  for  want  ol  a  few  temjjora  l^r.itifica- 
tions,  or  spend  a  lhoii:;ht  on  «uch  momentary 
accommodations  as  fire  the  unruly  passions  ot 
worldling's  ? 

This  is  not  all.  If  the  morality  of  Jesus 
Christ  be  thoroughly  examined,  it  will  he 
found  almost  incompatible  with  worldly  pros 
perity.  Such  is  the  state  of  the  human  heart, 
that  either  J  (!sus  Christ  must  alter  his  reh 
gious  laws,  in  order  to  put  us  into  the  posses- 
sion of  temporal  prosperity,  or  he  must  deprive 
us  of  temporal  prosperity  in  order  to  t'stahlish 
his  morality  in  our  hearts.  You  wish,  you 
say,  that  he  had  promised  pleasures  to  mode- 
ration, riches  to  charity,  an.J  worldly  grandeur 
to  humility.  Instead  of  gratifying  your  wishes, 
he  sees  it  necessary  *o  the  being  of  your  mo- 
deration to  remove  from  you  the  dangerous 
snares  of  pleasures ;  he  does  not  make  tlie 
charitable  man  rich,  lest  riches  should  excite 
avarice  ;  and  he  iJoes  not  bestow  worldly  gran- 
deur on  the  humble,  lest  it  should  diminish 
his  humility.  This  is  a  well  known  truth  of 
universal  experience.  It  is  generally  seen, 
that  every  temporal  good  conveys  a  morta! 
poison  into  the  heart  of  its  possessor.  7'he 
temptations  attending  prosperity  are  infinitely 
more  difficult  to  overcome  than  those  which 
belong  to  advrsity.  He  who  has  triumpiied 
over  persecutors,  executioners,  and  tyrants. 
has  not  unfrequently  fallen  a  prey  to  (jride, 
luxury,  and  intemperance,  when  objects  pro- 
per to  kindle  these  passions  have  presei.ted 
themselves  to  him. 

Temporal  prosperity  is  not  only  opposite  to 
our  duty  ;  but  it  is  for  this  very  i  eason  hostile 
to  our  happinpss.  Had  God  given  us  a  life 
full  of  charms,  we  should  have  taken  litile 
thought  about  another.  It  is  natural  to  be 
delighted  with  an  agreeable  situation,  and 
whatever  attaches  us  to  the  world,  cools  our 
ardour  for  heaven  ;  the  inward  man  is  renew- 
ed, as  the  outwar^d  man  perishes,  and  faith 
commonly  grows  as  fortune  decays.  When 
the  dove  first  flv?w  out  of  the  ark,  finding  no 
thing  but  wind  and  rain,  and  rolling  waves, 
she  returned  to  the  ark  for  shelter  and  rest  ; 
but  when,  in  her  second  flight,  she  saw  pla.ns 
and  fields,  there  she  alighted  and  staid.  Be- 
hold, my  soul,  thine  own  image.  When  the 
world  exhibits  to  thy  view  pros[)erity,  riches, 
and  honours,  thou  art  captivated  with  th<> 
beauty  of  the  enchantress,  and  faliest  a  prey 
to  her  charms.  But  when  the  world  puts  on 
the  gloom  of  poverty,  anxiety  and  misery, 
thou  turnest  thine  eyes  towards  heaven,  and 
seekest  happiness  in  its  natural  source.  Even 
as  things  are  now,  in  spite  of  all  the  distresses 
that  belong  to  life,  we  find  it  difiicult  to  detaci' 
our  affections  from  the  vvorld  ;  but  what  would 
be  the  case,  if  all  prospered  af'cording  to  oui 
wishes.'  Speak  to  a  man  who  talks  of  dying, 
exhaust  philosophical  and  religious  arguments 
to  determine  him  to  die  contentedly ;  placi 
him  between  two  objects,  heaven  and  earth, 
3  F 


the  world  he  is  leaving,  and  the  eiernal  state 
to  which  he  is  gumg:  describe  to  him  on  the 
one  hai  d  the  vanity  and  uncertainty  of  world- 
ly enjoyments,  tell  him  o  the  anxieties,  the 
indigence,  poverty,  and  nullity  of  every  thing 
here;  then  open  heaven  to  him,  show  him 
happy  angels  for  his  coiiipanions,  '  the  Lanil) 
•n  the  midst  of  the  throne  to  feed  him,  and 
lead  him  unto  living  fountains  of  eternal  joy,' 
Ptcv.  vii.  17.  Amidst  so  many  just  reasons  for 
his  detachment  fro:u  the  world,  this  world  is 
yet  dear  to  him  ;  this  life,  this  short  life,  this 
indigent  life,  this  life  which  is  nothing  but 
vanity  and  jdeception,  this  life  appears  more 
desirable  than  heaven,  and  all  its  eternal  glo- 
ry. If,  tlien,  in  spite  of  so  many  disagreeables 
in  this  life,  it  be  so  hard  to  quit  it  with  con- 
tr-nt,  what  would  be  onr  condition  were  God 
to  give  u=  a  firmer  health,  a  longer  life,  and  a 
more  flviurishing  state  of  affairs.''  What  would 
be  our  condition,  were  there  no  mortifications 
in  hgb  rank,  no  uncertainty  in  friendships,  no 
vicissitudes  in  fortune? 

Our  third  complaint  against  God  regards 
the  rigour  of  his  judgmeiits.  The  Jews  of 
Vlicah's  time  had  r,xperienced  this  in  many 
cases,  and  the  prophet  threatened  more.  '  Be- 
hold !  the  Lord  cometh  out  of  his  place,  and  will 
tread  upon  the  high  places  of  the  earth.  The 
mountains  shall  be  molten  under  him,  and  the 
valleys  shall  be  cleft  before  him.  Therefore 
I  will  wail  and  howl,  1  wU  go  stript  and  na- 
k'd,  I  will  make  a  wail'iig  like  the  dragons, 
and  make  a  mourning  as  the  owls,foi  her  wound 
is  incurable.  J.-^rusidem  shall  become  heaps. 
Z  on  shall  be  plowed  as  a  field,'  chap.  i.  3,  4. 
8,  9,  andiii  12. 

We  have  been  treating  of  our  text  as  it  re- 
gards you,  my  brethren,  we  will  therefore 
leave  the  j)rophet  and  his  countrymen,  in  or- 
der to  give  you  full  liberty  to  exhibit  your 
complaints,  and  to  say  now,  in  the  pres«;nce  of 
heaven  and  earth,  whwi  ills  God  has  inflicted 
on  you.  '  O  my  peoplo,  what  have  I  done 
unto  thee  ?'  Ah,  Lc-d  !  how  many  things  hast 
tliou  done  unto  us !  Draw  near,  ye  mourning 
ways  of  Z\on,  y-  d<'S(jlate  gates  of  Jerusalem, 
ye  sighi::g  jiriests,  ye  afflicted  virgins,  ye  de- 
sert:* peopled  with  captives,  ye  disciples  of 
Jesus  Christ,  wandering  over  the  face  of  the 
whole  earth,  children  torn  from  your  j)arents, 
prisons  filled  with  contiessors,  galleys  freighted 
with  martyrs,  blood  of  our  countrymen  shed 
like  water,  carcasses,  once  the  venerable  habi- 
tation oi  witnesses  for  religion,  now  thiown  out 
to  savage  beasts  and  birds  of  prey,  ruins  of  our 
churches,  du^t,  allies,  and  remains  o:  houses 
dedicated  to  our  God,  fires,  racks,  gibbets, 
punishmen's  till  now  unknown,  iiraw  nigh 
hither,  and  give  evidence  against  the  Loi'd. 

My  brethren,  if  we  consider  God  as  a  judge, 
what  a  number  of  reasons  may  be  assigned  to 
prove  the  equity  of  all  the  evils  that  he  has 
brought  npi>n  us?  The  abuse  of  his  favours, 
the  ciintempt  of  his  word,  the  slighting  of  all 
the  warnings  given  us  by  his  miiiisters,  the 
pride  and  worldly-ndndedness,  the  luke- 
warmness  and  indifference,  and  many  other 
odious  vices,  which  preceded  our  miseries,  are 
evidences  too  convincing  that  we  deserved  all ; 


406 


GOD'S  CONTROVERSY  WITH  ISRAEL. 


[Ser.  XLV[ 


and  thfiv  ought  to  make  our  complaints  give 
place  to  tlie  sorrowful,  bui  -incere  confession, 
which  a  propnet  puts  in  the  month  ot  the 
chunh,  '•  Tlie  Lord  is  riglneous,  for  1  have  re- 
belle. 1  a.rain^t  him,'  Lam    i.  18. 

But  as  we  saiil  that  in  this  t^xt  God  is  to 
be  coiisidfTpJ  as  a  father,  we  affir  i  all  these 
chastisements,  even  the  most  rigorous  of  Ihem. 
are  perfectly  consistent  with  this  charaoier. 
It  was  his  love  that  engaged  him  to  em  loy 
such  severe  means  for  your  benefit.  Ywu 
know,  my  brethren,  and  you  i<now  but  too 
well,  that  the  easp  with  whicli  the  enjoyment 
of  the  pr^^sencp  of  God  is  obtainetl,  too  olten 
lessens  the  favour  in  our  eyes.  I  appeal  to 
experience.  Recollect  the  time  so  dear  to 
you,  when  the  gospel  was  preach-d  to  you  in 
your  own  country,  and  when  God,  with  a 
bounty  truly  astonishing,  granted  you  both 
spiritual  and  temporal  prosperity.  Did  you, 
I  appeal  to  your  CdU^ciences.  did  you  value 
these  blessings  according  to  their  real  worth.' 
Wf^re  you  never  disgusted  with  the  manna 
that  fell  every  morning  around  your  habita- 
tions.'' Did  you  never  say  with  the  Israelites, 
•  There  is  nothing  ai  all,  besides  this  manna, 
before  our  eyes .''  Num.  xi.  6.  It  was  neces- 
sary, in  order  to  reanimate  your  zea  Inr  God, 
to  take  his  candle-tick  away  ;  it  was  necessary 
for  you  to  learn  the  importance  ol  salvation, 
by  the  dilTiculiy  of  obtaining  it ;  and  to  kindle 
your  love  to  your  spiritual  husband  by  his 
absence.  These  e-veiits  exciteil  abundance  of 
piety  among  you  ;  and,  though  the  mistbi  tunes 
of  the  times  have  produced  loo  many  exam- 
ples of  human  frailty,  yet  to  these  unhappy 
times  we  owe  the  brii;hl  example?  of  many 
eminent  persons,  whose  names  will  go  down 
wiih  honour  to  the  latest  posterity 

Let  u-  then  acknowk-dge,  my  brethren, 
that,  although  we  have  insulted  the  rectitude 
of  God,  we  are  willing  now  to  do  homage  to 
it;  let  us  coiil'ess,  God  has  given  his  people  no 
just  ground  of  complaint ;  in  all  ins  conduct 
he  has  displayed  the  power  of  a  God,  the  fidel  ■ 
ity  of  a  husliand.  the  tenderness  ol  a  parent ; 
and  we  have  nothing  to  reply  to  him,  when  he 
a«ks, '  (J  my  people,  what  have  I  done  unto 
thee .'  wherein  have  1  wearied  thee .''  testily 
against  me.' 

As  God  has  answered  the  complaints  of  his 
people,  let  us  proceed  to  inquire,  how  his  peo- 
ple will  answer  the  coaipluints  ol  their  God. 
Let  us  see  what  we  ourselves  can  reply.  He 
has  heard  us,  can  we  refuse  to  hear  him  ? 
Let  us  proceed  m  this  astonishing  cause  be- 
tween God  and  his  church.  '  The  Lord  hath 
a  controversy  with  his  people,  the  Lord  will 
plead  with  Israel.' 

The  history  of  the  Jews  is  so  well  known, 
that  every  one  ol  us  is  acquainted  with  their 
irregularities  They  corrupted  both  natural 
and  revealed  religion.  They  had  •  as  many 
gols  as  cities,'  Jer.  ii.  28,  They  chose  rather 
to  sacrifice  their  children  to  vloloch,  than  the.r 
sheep  and  oxen  to  Jenok'nh.  J'here  was  no 
opinion  so  a'.-urd,  no  worship  so  fiuerile,  no 
idolatrv  so  gross,  as  not  to  he  admitted  among 
them.  Having  shaken  olf  tii"  ties  oi  rcligio  i 
the  bridles  of  corrupt  passions,  they  threw  tlic 


reins  on  the  necks  of  the  most  ungovernable 
dispositions,  and  rushed  furiously  into  all  the 
worst  vices  of  the  nations  anmnd  them.  With 
this  conduct  the  prophets  were  always  re- 
proachmj;  them,  and  particularly  Ezekiel  in 
these  words,  in  which  he  describes  this  wretch- 
ed p'  ople  under  an  image  the  most  odious  that 
can  be  imagined.  'O  how  weak  is  thine  heart, 
saith  the  Lord  God,  seeing  thou  doest  all  these 
things  !  O  wife  committing  adultery,  taking 
strangers  instead  of  thy  husband  !  They  give 
gifts  to  all  whores  :  but  thou  givest  thy  gifts 
to  all  thy  lover=,  and  hirest  them  that  they 
mav  come  unto  thee  on  every  side  for  thy  I 
whoredom.  The  contrary  is  in  thee  from 
other  women  in  thy  whoredoms,  whereas  none 
followeth  thee  to  commit  whoredoms,  and  in 
that  thou  givest  a  reward,  and  no  reward  is 
given  unto  thee,'  Ezek.  xvi.  30,  Sec.  These  j 
v/ords  give  us  shocking  ideas  of  this  people  :  f 
for  if  It  was  an  abomination  under  the  law  to 
'  briiiiT  the  hire  of  a  whoi  e  into  the  house  of 
the  Lord,'  Deut  xxiii.  18,  for  an  offering, 
how  much  greater  abomination  must  it  be  to 
apply  the  offerings  of  the  Lord  to  the  support 
of  prosti'utes ! 

Their  cnmes  were  aggravated,  too,  by  the 
innumerable  blpss;ngs  which  God  bestowed  on 
them  The  prop  et  reminds  them  ot  these  in 
the  words  that  iollow  the  tfxt.  '  R.emember, 
O  my  ;  eo  ile,  I  red-^emed  thee  out  of  the  house 
of  servants,  r^mfmber  what  Balak  consulted, 
and  what  Balaam  an-wered.'  V\'hat  favour 
did  this  people  receive  1  What  nuraberlfss  en- 
gagements to  !■  ar  God  !  He  made  a  covenant 
with  them,  h'-  divided  the  sea  to  let  tliem  pass 
over,  iie  j,ave  them  bread  from  heaven  to  eat, 
he  cleft  the  rock  to  give  them  drink,  he  brought 
them  intotne  country  of  which  Moses  had  said, 
'  The  land  whitlier  ye  go  is  a  land  which  the 
Lord  thy  God  careth  for  ;  the  eyes  of  the  Lord 
thy  God  are  always  upon  it,  from  the  begin- 
ning ol  the  year,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
year,"  Deut.  Xh.  12.  Moreover,  all  their  tem- 
poral blessings  were  types  and  pledges  of  spi- 
ritual benefits,  either  then  bestowed,  or  pro- 
mised in  future.  Aftf-r  so  many  favours  on  God's 
part,  after  so  many  crimes  on  the  part  of  the 
people,  hail  not  the  Lord  rea-on  to  complain : 
Was  ever  controversy  more  just  than  this.^ 

My  breihren,  you  have  certainly  been  often 
shocked  ai  reading  the  history  of  this  people; 
you  have  blamed  their  idolatry;  you  have 
detested  their  ingratitude;  you  have  con- 
demneil  the  carelessness  of  their  pastors,  and 
all  the  vices  of  the  people.  But  what  would 
you  say  if  we  could  prove  that  the  excesses  of 
priests  and  people  are  greater  under  the  gospel 
than  under  the  law?  Thi^  Lord's  controversy 
With  you  affirms  this,  and  this  we  must  new 
examine. 

But  which  of  us  ministers,  which  of  us  has 
courage  to  enter  into  this  detail .'  And  which 
of  you  Christian  peo;  le  wouid  have  humility 
enough  to  hear  us  out  without  mnrmuriiig, 
tr-'inl  ling  with  indignation,  and  exclaiming 
a^a'Ust  your  reprover.  •  Away  with  bim,  away 
vviilihimi"  Surprising!  When  we  now  plead- 
•d  the  unjust  cause  ol  man  agaiiK~t  the  Creator,  > 
the  patient  Creator  satisfied   every  inquiry; 


Ser.  XLVI.] 


GOD'S  CONTROVERSY  WITH  ISRAEL. 


407 


the  earth  did  not  open  under  our  feet  to  swal- 
low us  up ;  no  fire  from  heaven  came  down 
to  destroy  us  ;  but  every  article  of  the  contro- 
versy received  a  full  answer.  iNow  that  Wf 
ought  to  (  roceed  to  hear  the  complaints  ol  the 
Creator  against  us,  I  alrea'ly  hear  every  ont 
murmurmg,  and  refusing  to  pay  as  muih  re- 
gard to  the  just  complaints  ot  liiod,  as  God 
condescended  to  pay  to  those  which  had  no 
foundation  in  reason  and  equity. 

Well,  we  Will  speak  to  you  in  your  own 
way;  we  will  treat  yon  as  sick  people  are 
treated  when  their  physicians  are  obliged  to 
disguise  remedies,  and  conceal  operations  ne- 
cessary to  their  recovery,  we  wdl  decide  no- 
thing ;  but  we  will  leave  each  otyou  to  judge  oi 
his  own  conduct.  We  will  only  produce  a  few 
of  the  articles  of  God's  controversy  with  you, 
and  propose  a  few  maxims  lor  you  to  examine  ; 
but  if  there  remain  the  least  decree  of  recti- 
tude in  you,  we  conjure  you  to  apply  these 
maxims  in  earnest  to  yourselves. 

First.  JVkeii  God  distinguishes  a  people  b_y 
signal  favours,  the  piople  oasiht  to  distmg  liJi 
themselves  by  gratitude  to  hiin  Tne  equity 
of  this  maxim  is  clear  to  evt-ry  one  of  us,  and 
nobody  will  dispute  it.  I  ask  then  were  any 
peoj^ile  in  the  world  ever  favoured  of  heaven 
as  the  people  of  these  provinces  have  been  .^ 
A  people  (permit  me  to  go  back  to  your  ori- 
gin), a  people  formed  amidst  grievous  oppres- 
sions and  barbarous  impositions;  a  people 
subject  to  tyrants  more  cruel  than  the  Piia- 
raohs  of  Egypt ;  a  people  not  ashamed  to  call 
themselves  beggar-,  and  to  exhibit  poverty  on 
their  standards  ;  a  people  who.  in  the  Sj  acf  ol 
six  months,  gave  up  six  thousand  ol  them- 
selves to  racks  and  gibbets;  a  people  risen 
from  this  low  condition  into  the  present  statr 
of  magnificence :  a  people  who,  placed  in  a 
corner  of  the  world,  and  occupying  only  a 
few  acres,  extend  their  influence  over  thi 
whole  world;  a  people  oppiisirig  at  the  same 
time  two  great  kings ;  a  people  in  whose 
favour  the  sea  suspended  its  usual  flux  on  the 
day  that  was  to  decide  the  late  of  these  pro- 
vinces for  ever ;  a  people  whose  forts  were 
all  occupied  by  tiie  enemy,  and  who,  when 
they  had  nothing  to  trust  to  but  the  unavail- 
ing fidelity  of  a  few  citizens,  saw  the  enemy 
'that  came  out  against  them  one  wi.y,  fli  e 
before  them  seven  ways,'  Deut.  xxviii.  7-  a 
people  inhabiting  a  country  formed,  (li  I  uiay 
speak  so)  against  the  laws  of  nature,  but 
which  the  God  of  nature  su  port^  as  it  were 
by  miracle  ;  a  people  taxing,  governing,  ai.d 
making  laws  for  ihemsflv.  s  ;  a  people  walk- 
ing m  the  light  of  the  gosp"!  shining  in  ad  iis 
glory,  and  enjoying  the  reforuiation  in  its  ut- 
most purity  This  is  only  an  imperfect 
sketch  of  the  blessings  which  God  in  distin 
guishing  mercy  conters  on  you.  Do  you  dis 
tiiiguish  yourselves  by  your  gratitude.''  Is 
there  more  piety  among  you  than  among 
other  nations.''  Is  there  a  greater  attention  to 
the  word  of  God,  and  more  deference  to  his 
laws.'  Are  there  more  good  examples  in  p-.- 
rents,  and  are  their  children  belter  educated 
than  others."'  Is  there  more  zeal  tor  family 
religion  ;    is  the  truth  more  highly  esteemevl, 


and  is  more  done  for  the  propagation  of  the 
gospel  .'  Do  the  sufferings  oi  pious  persons  for 
religion  excite  more  compassion .'  1  pronounce 
nothmg  1  decide  nothing.  1  leave  you  to 
judge  of  your  own  conduct. 

PiThaps  some  of  my  hearers,  whom  the 
correcting  hand  of  God  has  long  pursued,  and 
whom  he  seems  to  reserve  as  monuments  of 
his  lasting  displeasure,  perhaps  ttiey  may  tliink 
I  his  maxim  concerning  the  blessings  ol  Pro- 
vidence does  not  r-^gard  them.  But  shall  we 
be  so  ungr.deful  as  not  to  acknowledge  the 
lienefits  bestowed  on  us.'  And  shall  we  be  so 
insen.^ilile  as  not  to  mourn  over  our  own  in- 
gratitude.'' 

My  brethren,  let  us  look  back  a  little.  Let 
us  for  a  miinient  turn  our  eyes  to  the  land  of 
our  niitivity,  fro-n  which  we  are  banisiied ; 
let  us  remember  the  time,  when,  to  use  the 
language  of  the  psalmi>t,  we  went  in  'a  mul- 
titude to  the  house  of  God  with  the  voice  of 
joy  and  praise,'  Ps.  xli.  4 ;  nor  let  us  torget 
the  many  advantages,  which  we  enjoyed  till 
till-  day  of  ou'r  exile.  How  happy  a  climate  1 
What  an  agreeable  society  I  VV hat  opportu- 
nities for  comnifroe!  What  a  rapid  nrogress 
m  arts  and  .-ciences''  Was  our  gratitude  pro- 
^lortioned  to  the  liberal  gif  s  ol  God.'  Alas, 
the  exile  we  lam  nt,  the  dispersion  that  sepa- 
rates us  from  our  nearest  relations,  the  lassi- 
lude  we  feel,  the  tears  we  shed,  are  not  these 
sad,  but  sufficient  proofs  of  our  insensibility 
and  ingratitude  ?  '1  his  is  the  first  ariicle  of 
God's  coii'troversy  arainst  us.  and  this  is  the 
first  maxim  ol  seil-(  xamniation. 

The  second  regards  the  cliastisements  of 
God.  When  men  are  under  the  hand  of  an 
angri/  God^  they  are  called  to  viourning  and 
c'inlrition.  Ple.isures,  iiinoccml  in  other  cir- 
cumslancts,  are  guilty  in  this  case.  You 
perceive  at  o.ce  the  truth  ol  this  maxim.  God 
iiy  his  prophet  says  to  you,  '  Hear  ye  the 
rod.  and  who  hath  appointed  it,'  Micah  vi.  0. 
One  o!  his  most  cutting  reproofs  to  his  people 
was  this,  '  In  that  day  did  the  Lord  God  of 
hosts  call  to  wefping,  and  to  mourning,  and 
to  baldness,  and  to  girding  with  sackcloth ; 
and  behold,  joy  ai  d  gladness,  sh.ying  oxen  and 
killing  siieep,  i-ating  flesh  and  drinking  wine; 
let  Us  eat  and  drink,  lor  tn-morrovv  we  siuill 
die.  And  it  was  revei-led  in  mine  ears  by  the 
Lord  of  hosts.  Surely  this  iniquity  shall  not  be 
(■urged  from  you  till  ye  die.'  Isa.  xxii.  12,  <&;c. 
i  hus,  in  like  manner,  another  jcophet  com- 
filamed  to  bis  GoJ,  '  O  Lord,  thou  hast 
s'rickfu  them,  but  they  iiave  not  grieved; 
thou  hast  consumed  them,  but  they  have  re- 
;used  U)  receive  instruction;  they  have  made 
ihtir  faces  harder  than  a  rock,  they  have  re- 
fused to  return,'  Jer.  v.  3. 

Now,  my  brethren,  though  the  blessings  of 
Providence  surround  us,  yet  it  is  plain  we  are 
at  present  under  the  rod  of  correction.  I  lay 
aside  all  the  afflictions  just  now  mentioned  ;  I 
wdl  not  remind  you  of  gilibets.  and  racks, 
and  tortur'  s,  subj>cts  so  proper  to  banish 
Irom  our  minds  the  senseless  joy  that  fills 
them,  were  we  ither  •  grieved  lor  the  afHio- 
lion  ol  Joseph,  or  pleased  to  remember  he 
dust  of  Zion.'     1  will  speak  only  of  the  cause 


408 


GOD'S  CONTROVERSY  WITH  ISRAEL. 


[Ser.  XLVI. 


of  our  asaemblin*  now,  of  this  cruel  and  tra-  j 
gical  war.     Is  not  tho  destroying  angel  gone! 
jibroad?    Docs  not   the  'sword  of  the   Lord,j 
drunk  with  blood,'  turn  the  vholp  universe i 
into  one  vast  grave?    Are  your  fortunes,  your| 
liberties,  or  yonr  religion  safe  ?    Should  your  i 
fleets  and  armies  be  always    victorious    in  to-  J 
tui-e,  would  not  yoin  husbands,   and  relations   ; 
and   friends    be  in    imminent  daii;;er  ?   Would! 
our  victories  cost  us  I'o  tear=  ?  Would  not  our 
laurels  be  bloody  ?    Alas!    the   tears  of  some 
mother  having  lost  her  son,  the  sia^hs  of  so'i.e  j 
wife  having  lost  her  husband,  the  coni;>laints  ! 
of  some  friend  who  had  lost  a  friend,  would 
not  these    interrupt    our    son^i    of    triumih. 
and  mix  mournful  sounds  among  our  shouts  ol 

joy' 

We  are,  then,  luider  the  correctmg  hand 
of  God.  Yet  what  impressions  do  these 
frightful  objects  make  on  us?  What  eflects 
are  produced  in  our  souls  by  objects  so  proper 
to  fill  them  with  fear  and  trembling?  Have 
we  broke  up  any  party  of  pleasure?  Have  we 
kept  away  from  any  public  amusement  ?  Have 
we  laid  aside  any  festivals  and  public  shows? 
Is  nothing  to  be  seen  among  us  but  tasting  and 
weeping,  sackcloth  and  ashes?  Would  not 
any  stranger  who  should  see  us,  say  every 
thing  succeeded  according  to  our  wishes  ;  that 
there  was  no  danger,  no  war,  no  blood-shed- 
diiiJ-,  no  proVjability  of  another  campaign,  that 
should  cover  the  earth  with  the  limbs  of  the 
dead?  This  is  the  second  article  of  God's  con- 
troversy with  us.  This  is  the  second  ground 
of  examination.  1  pronounce  nothing.  1  de- 
cide nothing.  I  leave  you  to  judge  of  your 
own  conduct. 

The  thirl  maxim  regards  the  end  of  preach- 
ing i-nd  the  ministiy.  To  allend  public  wor- 
ship is  not  lo  ohtam  the  end  of  tir  ministrij 
Kol  to  become  wise  by  altcnding,  is  lo  increase 
onr  miseries  by  agirraiativg  our  sins.  Un 
this  principle  we  ntiirm,  that  every  time  our 
places  of  worship  arc  opened,  every  t;me  you 
attend  public  service,  every  time  ou  hear  a 
sermon,  you  are  required  to  derive  some  real 
benefit,  answerable  to  the  end  proposed,  is 
it  so?  Wiien  we  survey  this  asstmMy,  and 
look  on  it  with  the  t-yps  of  flush,  the  sight 
strikes  every  beholder  wilh  surprise  and  awe. 
litre  are  princes,  magistrates,  generals,  men 
excelling  in  learning  and  science  of  every  kind. 
We  can  hardly  find  in  all  Europe  so  many 
venerable  personages  assembled  in  so  small 
u  place.  J\loreo\er,  heie  is  all  the  exterior 
of  piety,  assiduity,  attention,  eagerness,  a 
great  concourse  of  people,  and  every  thing 
that  looks  like  zeal  and  fervour.  Yet  the 
end,  the  great  <  nd  of  the  ministration  of  the 
divine  word,  is  it  even  known  among  us? 

When  each  of  you  come  into  this  holy 
place,  do  you  think  what  you  are  going  to  do  ? 
When  you  enter  the  house  of  God,  do  you 
/jcc/»  )/07.<7-/ce/,  according  to  the  lanjruage  ol 
a  prophet?  When  you  approach  this  ilesk, 
does  your  heart  accompany  him  who  prays? 
Does  your  tiervoui  rise  up  with  his  petitions, 
and  does  your  soul  warmly  unite  itse'f  with 
hi?  requests  to  supplicate  the  thr(  ne  of  grace, 
and  to  avert  the  anger  of  Almighty  God? 


When  you  hear  a  sermon,  have  you  the  doci- 
lity requisite  to  such  as  receive  instruction? 
Does  your  memory  retain  the  doctrines  taught? 
Does  your  heart  apply  to  itself  the  searching 
truths  sometimes  delivered?  W^hen  you  return 
home  do  you  recollect  what  you  have  been 
li-aring?  Do  you  ever  converse  about  it  af- 
terward? Do  you  require  any  account  of 
your  chddren  and  servants  of  iheir  profiting  ? 
tn  a  word,  what  good  comes  of  all  the  exhor- 
tritions,  expiistulations,  anii  arguments  used 
among  you  ?  I  pronounce  nothing.  I  decide 
othing.  I  leave  you  once  more  to  judge  of 
your  own  conduct. 

Onr  fourth  maxim  regards  slander.  Slander 
is  once  impure  tn  its  source,  dangerous  in  its 
ejftcts,  general  in  ils  influence  ;  irreparable  in 
lis  conscejuences ;  a  rice  that  ■trikes  at  once 
three  mortal  blows ;  it  wounds  /tun  u-lio  com- 
mits if,  liim  against  whom  it  is  committed,  and 
him  who  sees  it  committed.  It  is  tolerated  in 
society,  only  because  every  one  has  an  invinci- 
ble inclmalion  to  commit  it.  Kxamiiie  this 
place  on  this  article.  Are  not  your  slanders 
famous  even  in  distant  climes  ?  Do  not  stran- 
gers and  travellers  observe  your  propensity  to 
this  vice?  Are  not  many  of  you  cruelly  at- 
tentive to  the  conduct  of  your  neighbours,  and 
always  asking.  Where  is  he  ?  AVhence  does  he 
come  ?  What  is  he  about  ?  What  are  his  opi- 
nions ?  Have  you  no  pleasure  in  discovering 
people's  imperiections  ?  Dues  not  m.alice  pub- 
lish some  vices,  which  charity  ought  to  con- 
ceal ?  .A. re  no  tales  invented  ?  none  enlarged  ? 
no  calumnies  added  ?  Are  not  the  characters 
of  the  most  respectable  persons  attacked,  of 
heads  of  families,  magistrates,  and  ministers? 
Is  not  one  unrea-ionaMy  taxed  with  heresy, 
another  with  frau'!,  arioiser  with  criniinul  in- 
trigues, and  so  on?  This  is  the  fourth  article 
of  G(id"s  controversy.  I  j'ronounce  nothi'ig. 
I  l^<i^ie  nothing.  I  leave  you  to  judge  of 
your  own  actions. 

Fifthly.  If  the  dangers  that  thrv(ilc7i  ?/?,  and 
iJie  hloiis  that  Providence  strikes,  ought  to  af- 
fect us  all,  they  ought  to  affect  those  most  of  all 
■alio  arc  most  exposed  to  them.  To  explain 
outselv'.'s.  Tiiere  is  not  one  of  us  so  secure, 
thpre  is  no  credit  so  firm,  no  Jiouse  so  estab- 
lished, no  lortui.c  so  safe,  as  not  to  be  affect- 
ed by  this  war.  Cons'-qnenlly,  there  is  not 
any  one  purson  who  ought  not,  by  fervent 
prayer,  and  genuine  piet' ,  to  t  iideavour  to  en- 
i>age  Heaven  to  prosper  our  armies. 

It  is,  however  clear  beyond  a  <loubt,  that 
our  generals,  olhcers,  and  soldiers,  have  a  par- 
ticular and  pcrsoi'al  concern  in  the  approach- 
ing ramjiaign.  Men  who,  besides  all  the  in- 
firmities and  dangers  to  whicli  human  nature 
is  subject,  and  to  which  they  are  exposed  in 
common  with  all  mankind,  are  goiiiii:  to  expose 
themselves  to  the  danL';er3  ot  sieges  and  bat- 
tles, and  all  other  concomitants  of  war;  they 
who  are  always  contending  with  death  ;  they 
who  march  every  day  through  fires  and  flames; 
they  who  have  aiways  the  sound  of  warlike 
instruments  in  their  ears,  crying  with  a  thun- 
dering voice,  'Remember  ye  are  mortal;' 
;-eople  of  this  profession,  ought  not  they  to  be 
I  more  affected  with  these  objects  than  we  who 


Ser.  XLVI.3 


GOD'S  CONTROVERSY  WITH  ISRAEL. 


409 


see  them  only  at  a  distance?  An'1,  conse- 
quently, ouglit  not  thpy  to  ""nter  with  greater 
sincerity  into  (he  religious  dispositions  which 
such  objects  are  apt  to  excite  ?  Thi-  is  the 
maxim,  the  fiiih  article  ol  God's  controversy 
with  us. 

See,  exa^aine.  Is  piety  respected  F.mong 
yourtrooi)S  ?  Dor-s  the  ark  of  the  Lordalvays 
go  at  the  head  of  your  array  .''  Does  the  pdlar 
of  a  cloud  direct  your  step??  Ooes  henevo 
lence  animate  )ou  towards  one  another,  part- 
tiers  as  you  are  in  common  daiiicer?  Do  tiie 
mouths  that  arf  ready  to  ut'.er  the  la:-f  sisih, 
open  only  to  hlcss  the  Creator,  aiul  to  commit 
to  hmi  a  soul  lioverins;  on  the  lips.  a;d  ready 
to  depart  ?  Arc-  offences  asjainst  Je  ns  Ci.rist 
punish^Hl  assrverely  as  offonces  against  officers 
in  the  army"  '  Do  ye  nro\  oke  the  Lord  to 
jealousy?  Are  ye  stron^,-  r  rhan  he?'  1  C'ir. 
X.  22.  Would  you  fore  a  victory  in  spite  of 
himr  Would  you  triumph  wirho'ii  God,  or 
would  you  have  him  su'-ciwhI  your  attempts, 
w'-ien  you  carrj  impiety  on  your  foreheaiis, 
irreli^ion  in  ynur  h^a'-ts,  and  '  lasphemy  in 
your  moiUhs?  I  prono;ince  nothaiu;.  1  de 
cide  nothing.  I  leave  each  of  you  to  draw 
such  inferences  from  this  maxim  as  naturally 
belong  to  it. 

Our  sixth  maxim  regards  gaming.  If  gam- 
ing be  innocent  n  any  circumstnncesUitei/  arc 
uncommon  and  rare.  It  is  easier  to  renounce 
this  pleasure  than  to  enjoy  it  wit' tout  excess. 
Examine  yourselves  on  this  article  Ar''  t!  ore 
none  of  us  to  whom  gaming  is  become  neces- 
sary? N'>ne  wi!o  relish  no  other  pleasure  ? 
Are  there  no  father*  and  mothers  who  train 
up  their  families  i:i  it.  and  emlmiden  th'-m  by 
their  examples  ?  I.-i  there  no  opulpnt  man  who 
imagines  he  has  a  rig' it  to  spend  his  fortune  in 
gaming?  Is  there  no  necessitous  person  who 
hazariis  the  support,  yea  the  daily  bread  of 
his  family  in  thi<  practice?  I  determine  no- 
thing I  pronounce  nothing.  1  leave  you  to 
judge  of  your  own  actions. 

Bin.  wliy  not  pronounce  ?  Why  not  decide  ? 
'  "Whereliire  respect  lalse  delicacy?  'Why  not 
dei  lai  f  the  whole  couns(^l  of  God  r'  Acts  xx. 
37.  '  Why  strive  to  phase  men?'  Gal.  i.  10. 
Ah,  my  brethrpii  !  were  I  to  hold  my  peace, 
the  walls,  ami  the  pillars,  and  the  arches  of 
thi^  budding,  the  hills  and  the  mountains, 
would  rise  up  in  judgment  against  you.  '  Haar, 
ye  mountains,  hear  ye  hills,  hear  the  Lord's 
controversy.  The  Lord  hath  a  contrpversy 
with  his  people,  and  he  will  plead  with  Isvael.' 
Yea,  the  Lord  lias  a  controversy  with  you. 
His  reproofs  would  ckaveyonr  ucarts  asunder, 
and  dissolve  you  in  floods  of  tears,  were  you 
cauab  e  of  reflections  and  emotions.  He  com- 
plains of  all  tlie  vices  we  have  mentioned. 
He  complains  that  you  are  insensible  to  the 
most  terrible  thrf^atenings  of  his  mouth,  and 
the  heaviest  strokes  of  his  hand.  lie  com- 
plains that  you  bite  and  devour  one  another 
like  wild  and  savage  beasts.  He  complains 
that  impiety,  irreligion,  and  intemperance. 
reign  over  those  souls  which  are  formed  for 
the  honour  of  having  fiod  for  their  king.  H' 
complairis  that  you  forget  the  excellence  ot 
your  nature,  and  the  dijnity  of  your  origin. 


and  that  you  occupy  your  immortal  souls  with 
amusements  unworthy  of  the  attention  of 
creatures  having  the  least  degree  of  intelli- 
g'-nce.  He  complains  that  exhortations,  ex- 
postulations, and  entreaties,  the  most  forcible 
and  artVcting,  are  almost  always  without  suc- 
cess He  com,ilains  oi'  some  abominable 
crimes  which  are  committed  in  the  face  ol  (he 
sun,  and  of  others  that  are  concealed  under 
the  'larkness  of  the  night,  the  horrors  of 
which  I  dare  not  even  mention  in  this  place 
dedicated  to  tlie  service  of  God.  He  com- 
plains that  you  force  him,  as  it  were,  to  lay 
aside  his  inclinntion  to  bless  you,  and  oblige 
him  to  chastise  you  with  se\°rity.  Behold! 
ihe  storm  gaUiers,  the  thunder  mutters  and 
approaches,  the  lightning  is  ready  to  flush  in 
oui  faces,  unless  onr  fasting,  a, id  sackcloth, 
and  ashes,  avert  these  judgments  which  threat- 
en us,  or,  shall  I  rather  say,  which  are  already 
falling  upon  us? 

Such  is  the  controversy  of  God  with  you  ; 
these  are  his  comjilamts.  It  is  your  part  to 
reply.  J usi.'fy  Yourselves,  pUad,  speak,  an- 
swer. 'O  my  people  whiit  have  I  ilone  unto 
thee?'  What  have  you  to  say  in  jtur  own 
behalf?  How  can  you  justify  your  ingratitude, 
your  insensibdity,  youi  luxury,  your  calum- 
nies, yuur  di  sipatioiis,  your  lukewarmiiess, 
youi  worUlly-mindedne.-s,  \our  pride,  your 
Uiiworihy  communions,  yotir  forgotten  fasts, 
your  false  contracis,  your  broiien  resolutions, 
ihe  hardening  of  your  hearts  against  thrcat- 
eniiigs,  and  promise?,  and  personal  chastise- 
ments, some  public  calarnities  already  inflict- 
ed on  the  church,  and  others  reudy  to  over- 
whelm it  r  Havf}  we  any  thing  to  reply? 
A^ain  I  say,  justify  yourselves,  plead,  speak, 
i  answer. 

Ah,  my  brethren,  my  brethren  I  am  I  de- 
ceiving mysilf;  I  think  I  see  your  hearts  in 
j  your  countenances,  and  read  in  your  faces  the 
reply  you  are  going  to  make.  .Vlethinks  1  see 
your  hearts  penetrated  with  genuine  ;,'rief, 
your  faces  covered  with  holy  confusion,  and 
your  eyes  (lowing  with  tears  of  godly  sorrow. 
I  thiiik  1  h^ar  the  language  of  your  con- 
sciences, all  '  broken  and  contrite,  and  trem- 
bling at  the  woni  of  the  Lord,'  Ps.  li.  19;  I 
tliink  I  hear  each  of  you  say,  'though  1  were 
righleiius,  yet  would  I  not  answer;  but  I 
would  make  supplication  to  my  Judge,'  Isa. 
Ixvi.  2  ;  Job  ix.  15.  This  was  the  disposition 
of  the  people  after  they  had  heard  Micah. 
God  said,  '  O  my  people,  what  have  I  done 
unto  thee?  wherein  have  I  wearied  thee? 
testify  against  me.'  And  the  people,  afflicted 
on  account  of  tlieir  sins,  afraid  of  the  judg- 
ments of  God,  all  wounded  and  weighed  down 
with  a  sense  of  guilt,  confused  and  astonished 
at  their  condition,  replied,  '  Wherewith  shall 
1  come  before  (he  Lord,  and  bow  myself  belore 
the  high  God.' 

This  was  the  answer  of  the  Jews,  and  this 
is  the  answer  we  expect  of  you.  L<=t  each  of 
yoi  say,  '  Wherewith  shall  I  come  before  the 
lord,  and  bow  myself  before  the  high  God  ?* 
1  low  shall  I  turn  away  those  torrents  of  divine 
fudgments  which  threaten  to  overwhelm  tho 
Chnstitiii  world  ?   We,  the  ministers  of  Christ, 


y 


410 


THE  HARMONY  OP 


[Ser.  XLVII. 


we  answer  in  the  name  of  God,  prevent  them 
by  sighs  and  tears  of  genuine  repentance,  pre- 
vent thpm  by  cool,  constant,  and  efi'ectual 
resolutions,  by  effusions  of  love,  and  by  in- 
creasing zeal  for  universal  obedience. 

This  ought  to  be  the  work  of  this  day  ;  it 
is  the  dpsign  of  the  fast,  and  the  aim  of  this 
sermon  ;  for  it  is  not  sufficient,  my  brethren,  to 
trace  the  controversy  of  God  with  you,  it 
must  be  finished,  th  parties  must  be  recon- 
ciled, and  each  of  us  must  yield  obedience  to 
the  voice  that  says  to  every  one  of  us,  '  he 
may  make  peace  with  me,  he  shall  make 
peace  with  me,'  Isa.  xxvii.  5 

iVIagistrates,  princes,  noblemen,  ministers, 
people,  parents,  children,  will  you  not  all  of 
you  embrace  this  invitation  ?  Do  you  not  so- 
lemnly protest,  in  the  presence  of  heaven  and 
earth,  and  before  the  angels  that  wait  in  this 
assembly,  that  you  preier  this  peace  before 
nil  the  riches  in  the  world  ?  Do  you  not  all 
resolve,  with  the  utmost  sincerity  and  good 
fuith,  never  more  wilfully  to  break  the  com- 
jnaiidmeiits  of  God?  O  Lord  thou  knowest 
all  things,  thou  knowest  the  hearts  ol  all  man- 
kind, thy  searching  eyes  survey  the  most 
secret  purposes  of  the  souls  of  all  this  assem- 
bly ! 

If  each  of  us  reply  thus  to  God,  let  us  cher- 
ish the  pleasure  that  is  inspired  by  the  returi. 
of  his  favour.  Christians  what  came  you  oui 
to  day  to  see?  what  came  you  out  to  hear  : 
God  pleading  before  ynu,  God  ju.-tifying  hui,- 
Eelf,  God  convicting  you  :  yet,  alter  all,  Gou 
pardonintf  you.  What  may  we  not  exp<  it 
from  a  God  so  j>atient  and  kind  ? 

Lo  !  I  see  on  a  happy  future  day  the  teais- 
of  Zion  wiped  away,  the  mourning  of  Jeru- 
salem ended,  our  cajitives  freed  from  bon- 
dage, our  galley-slaves  irom  chains 

I  see  on  a  happy  luture  day  victory  follow- 


ing our  march,  our  generals  crowned  with 
laurels,  and  every  campaign  distinguishd  by 
some  new  triumph. 

Meihinks  I  beh(jld,  on  some  future  day,  our 
prayers  exchanged  tor  praise,  our  fast-  for  so- 
lemn festivals,  our  mourning  for  joy  and  tri- 
umph, and  all  the  faithful,  assembled  to-day 
to  implore  the  aid  of  the  God  of  armies,  again 
convoked  to  bless  the  God  of  victory,  and 
making  this  place  echo  with  repeat'  d  shouts, 
'  The  right  hand  of  the  Lord. is  exalt<d.  The 
right  hand  oi  the  Lord   hath  done  valiantly. 

I  he  sword  of  the  Lord  and  Gideon,'  Ps.  cxviii. 
16;  Judg    vii.  20. 

I  see  on  some  happy  future  day  our  ene- 
mies confounded  ;  one  post  running  to  meet 
another,  one  messenger  to  meet  another,  to 
show  the  king  of  Babylon  that  his  army  is 
routed  I  see  commerce  flourishing  among 
this  people,  and  liberty  for  ever  established 
in  these  provinces. 

Go  then,  generous  warriors,  go  verify  these 
pleasing  omens,  go  sacredly  prodigal  of  spill- 
ing your  blood  in  defence  of  liberty,  religion, 
and  your  country.  May  the  God  of  armies 
return  you  victorious  as  rapidly  as  our  wishes 
rise  I  Vlay  he  reunite  the  many  hearts,  and 
reassemble  the  many  families  which  this  cam- 
(jaigii  is  going  to  separate !  May  he  prevent 
the  shedding  of  human  blood ;  and  while 
iie  makes  you  conquerors,  may  he  spare  the 
people  suhdued  t)y  you  !  May  he  return  you 
•o  wear  the   crowns  and    laurels  which  our 

lands  will  be  eagerly  preparing  for  you  !  May 
he,  after  he  shall  haie  granted  you  all  a  long 

uid     happy    life,  useful  and  glorious  to  the 

taie  and  to  your  families,  open  the  gates  of 
eternal  happiness  to  you,  and  fix  you  for  ever 

n  tiie  temple  of  peace  1  To  him  be  honour 
and  glory  henceforth  and  for  ever.     A  men. 


SEMMON    XL.VII. 


( 


THE  HARMONY  OF  RELIGION  AND  CIVIL  POLITY. 


Proverbs  xiv.  34. 


Eighteousness  exalteth  a  7iation. 


To  propose  maxims  of  civil  polity  in  a  re- 
ligious assembly,  to  propose  maxims  of  reli- 
gion in  a  political  assembly,  are  two  things, 
which  seem  alike  senseless  and  imprudent. 
The  Christian  is  so  often  distinguished  from 
the  statesman,  that  it  would  seem,  they  were 
opposite  characters.  We  have  been  lately 
taught  to  believe,  that  Jesus  Christ,  by  givin„ 
us  an  idea  of  a  society  more  noble  than  any 
we  can  form  upon  earth,  has  forbidden  us  to 
prevent  the  miseries  of  this  state,  and  to  en 
deavour  to  procure  the  glory  of  it.  It  has 
been  said,  that  kingdoms  and  states  cannot  be 


r  elevated  without  violating  the  laws  of  equity, 
and  infringing  the  rights  of  the  church. 

How  general  soever  this  odious  notion  may 
have  been,  hardly  any  one  has  appeared  openly 
to  avow  it  till  of  late.  The  impudence  of 
pleading  for  it  was  reserved  for  our  age,  for 
a  Christian  admitted  into  your  provinces, 
cherished  in  your  bosom,  and,  O  shame  of 
our  churches  I  appearing  among  proteatant 
refugees,  as  the  devil  formerly  presented  him- 
self before  the  ,.ord,  among  the  angels  of  God.* 

*  Voyez  Baylc,  Coiwiimat.   des   peasees   divers. 
tern,  ii-  p<  ^^ 


Ser.  XLVII.] 


RELIGION  AND  CIVIL  POLITY. 


411 


We  propose  to-Jay,  my  brethren,  to  endea- 
vour to  unrarel  the  sophisms  of  this  author, 
to  show  you  the  agreement  of  reli2;ion  with 
civil  polity,  and  to  establish  this  proposition, 
that  as  there  is  nothing  in  religion  to  counter- 
act the  design  of  a  wise  system  of  civil  polity, 
so  there  is  nothing  in  a  wise  sytem  of  civil 
government  to  counteract  the  design  of  tlie 
Christian  religion.  It  was  the  wisest  of  all 
kings  whu  taught  us  this  lesson.  He  speaks 
of  the  exaltation  of  a  nation,  and  this  is  the 
end  of  civil  polity.  He  speaks  of  righteous- 
ness, and  this  is  the  design  of  religion,  or 
rather  this  is  religion  itself.  He  affirms  that 
the  latter  is  the  foundation  of  the  former,  and 
this  is  the  agreement  of  religion  with  civil 
government.  It  is  'righteousness,'  says  he.  It 
is  '  righteousness'  that  '  exalteth  a  nation.' 

This  proposition  of  Solomon  needs  both  ex 
plication  and  proof;  and  this  discourse  is  in- 
tended to  furnish  both. 

In  our  first  part  we  will  state  the  question, 
fix  the  sense  of  these  terms,  righteousness,  ex- 
altation ;  we  will  set  aside  the  various  false 
senses  which  occasioned  the  opinion  that  we 
intend  to  oppose ;  and  by  these  means  we 
ivill  preclude  such  objections  as  may  be  made 
against  our  doctrine. 

In  the  second  part  we  will  allege  some  argu- 
ments in  favour  of  the  proposition  contained 
in  the  text,  when  properly  explained,  and  so 
prove  that  *  righteousness  exalteth  a  nation  ' 

This  n-ition  is  exalted,  my  brethren  ;  but, 
allow  me  to  say,  it  is  not  by  its  '  righteous- 
ness.' We  have  not  therefore  chosen  this 
text  to  create  an  opportunity  of  making  en- 
comiums on  you  ;  but  we  treat  of  the  sub- 
ject in  order  to  fix  your  attention  on  the  pro- 
per means  of  preserving  and  augmenting  your 
elevation.  Happy  if  our  design  meet  with 
success  ;  happy  if  we  contribute,  though  not 
according  to  the  extent  of  our  wishes,  yet, 
according  to  the  utmost  of  our  ability,  to  the 
glory  of  this  state. 

I.  We  just  now  insinuated,  that  the  false 
glosses  put  upon  the  maxim  of  the  Wise  Man, 
were  the  principal  causes  of  our  backwardness 
to  admd  the  truth  of  it.  it  is  therefore  im- 
portant to  state  the  question  clearly. 

I.  When  we  alfirm  that  righteousness  and 
religion  in  general  (for  it  would  be  easy  to 
prove  that  the  word  'righteousness'  in  the 
text,  is  to  be  taken  in  this  vague  sense,)  I  say, 
when  we  affirm  that  religion  '  exalteth  a  na- 
tion,' we  do  not  mean  such  a  religion  as  many 
imagine.  We  ingenuously  acknowledge,  and 
would  lO  God  the  whole  world  acknowledged, 
that  neither  the  religion  of  a  cruel  man,  nor 
the  religion  of  a  supeistitious  person,  nor 
the  religion  of  an  enthusiast, can  'exalt  a  na- 
tion.' 

How  can  the  religion  of  a  cruel  man  '  exalt 
a  nation  ?  The  religion  of  such  men  istoo  well 
known  for  the  peace  of  Europe.  Such  as 
these,  under  pretence  of  devotion,  cut  a  free 
course  for  their  own  black  and  inflexible  pas- 
sions. These  arm  themselves  with  the  civil 
sword,  to  destroy  all  who  doubt  the  trutii  of 
tiieir  systems  ;  they  put  violence  in  the  place 
of  demonstration,  and  endeavour  to  establish 


the  gospel  as  if  it  were  the  Koran  of  Moham- 
med, by  force  and  constraint.  These  charac- 
ters, as  I  just  now  said,  art  too  well  known 
for  the  peace  of  Europe.  Even  now  while  1 
speak,  I  behold  many  who  have  suffered  under 
such  cruelty,  and  have  opposed  the  strongest 
ar.'-uments  against  it.  No,  my  brethren,  this 
is  not  the  religion  that  •  exalteth  a  nation.' 
Such  a  religion  depopulates  states,  ruins  com- 
merce, and  is  a  never  failing  soure-^  of  civil 
wars  and  intestine  commotions.  The  religion 
of  which  we  speak,  is  a  kind,  patient,  gentle 
religion ;  a  religion,  the  grand  character  of 
which  is  forbearance,  benevolence,  and  frater- 
nal love  ;  a  reli^jion,  inimical  to  error  and  he- 
resy  ;  but  which,  however,  pities  the  erro- 
neous and  the  heretic;  a  religion  which  ex- 
erts itself  to  eradicate  false  doctrines;  but 
which  leaves  each  at  liberty  to  admit  the 
truth;  a  religion  which  hns  no  other  sword 
than  the  '  sword  of  the  Spirit,'  nor  any  other 
weapon  than  that  of  the  word. 

How  can  the  religion  of  a  superstitious  man 
'  exalt  a  nation  ."  It  makes  devotion  degene- 
rate into  idleness,  it  increases  the  number  of 
ecclesiastics,  and  so  renders  many  members 
useless  to  society.  It  wastes  in  pretendedly 
pious  foundations  immense  sums,  which  might 
have  contributed  to  the  advancement  of  arts 
and  sciences.  It  generates  ^cruple^  in  the 
minds  of  statesmen,  and  so  restrains  the  exer- 
cise or  those  fine  faculties  which  God  created 
for  the  good  of  the  state.  It  puts  the  casuist 
in  the  place  of  the  prince,  and  the  prince  in 
the  place  of  the  casuist ;  the  casuist  on  the 
throne,  and  the  prince  in  confession  at  his  ieet. 
No,  my  brethren,  this  is  not  the  religion  of 
which  we  sjjeak.  The  religion  of  which  we 
speak,  is  opposite  to  superstition.  It  is  just 
and  solid,  requiring  us  to  '  render  unto  Caesar 
the  things  that  are  Caesar's,  and  unto  God  the 
things  that  are  God's,'  Matt.  xii.  17.  It  pre- 
scribes bounds  to  sovereigns,  but  it  requires 
casuists  also  to  know  their  place. 

How  can  the  religion  of  an  enthusiast  con- 
tribute to  the  exaltation  of  a  nation  .''  The 
soul  of  an  enthusiast  is  always  agitated  with 
visions  and  reveries.  He  incessantly  thrusts 
himsell  into  the  company  of  the  great,  in  or- 
der so  inspire  them  with  his  ov/n  spirit,  and  to 
breathe  into  them  the  soul  of  enthusiasm.  He 
endeavours  to  animate  governors  called  to 
watch  over  a  state,  and  to  conduct  the  people 
to  national  happiness,  with  his  wild  schemes. 
He  is  always  talk'n;j  of  extirpating  the  re- 
formation, an.!  thunderiii,'  excommunications 
against  tl'.  .sc  who  do  not  enter  into  his  extra- 
vagant ;-ruj*^cts;  his  anathimas  are  as  extra- 
vag-d  i!  and  wild  as  the  pr^  jcts  themselves. 
Til!-  is  not  the  religion  o:  which  v/e  speak. 
^l'!ie  religion  that '  exalte  t  u  a  nation'  is  derived 
!rom  the  treasures  (>f  the  Divine  Intelligence  ; 
;f  was  formed  in  the  mind  of  that  sublime 
S}  rit  from  whom  wisdom  proceeds,  as  the 
stream  flows  from  the  spring  :  and  not  in  the 
ideas  of  a  disordered  brain,  nor  in  the  dreams 
of  a  visionary. 

We  \v  ish  you  to  take  religion  and  righteous- 
ness in  the  true  sense  of  the  terms.  This  is 
our  first  elucidation.    This  is  the  first  precau- 


412 


THE  HARMONY  OF 


[Ser.  XLVII. 


tion  that  must  be  uscl  to  understand  the  state 
of  the  question. 

2.  VVe  do  not  mean  to  affirm  that  the  true 
religion  is  i«o  nece-!*ary  in  al!  iis  doctrnies,  am! 
in  all  Ihn  estent  oi  iu  |>rece,.U3  ;  Ihut  tij'Te  ar-- 
no  mstances  of  ihe  flourishing  of  societies, 
which  hav  ii:>t  been  wholly  rejfulate!  by  ii. 
We  ackuowleJge  that  some  societies  of  ni-^ii, 
-vrho  have  been  only  partially  ^overiif  J  by  lU 
maxims,  hdV?  enjoyoJ  lonjj  and  2:iori()us  ad- 
vantages upon  the  theatre  of  the  world;  eithf-r 
because  their  false  reli^rions  contained  some 
principles  of  rectitude  in  common  with  the 
true  reli^-ion  ;  or  because  God,  in  order  to  ani- 
mate such  people  to  [iractise  some  virtues,  su- 
perficial indeed,  but,  however,  necessary  to 
the  bein"-  of  society,  annexed  success  to  the 
exercise  of  them  ;  or  because  he  prospered 
them  to  answer  some  secret  desi2:ns  ot  his  wis- 
dom :  or  because,  finally,  rectitude  was  never 
so  fully  established  on  earth  as  to  preclude  in- 
justice from  enjoyiii;^;  the  advantas^es  of  virtue, 
or  virtue  from  suffering:  the  penalties  of  vice. 
However  it  were,  we  allow  the  fact,  and  we 
only  aiTirm  that  the  mo-t  sure  mslho;  th  it  a 
nation  can  take  to  support  and  exalt  itself,  is 
to  follow  the  lawsof  righteo^slle^s  anJthesj.i- 
rit  of  religion.  This  is  a  ^econd  flucidation, 
tending  to  state  the  question  clearly. 

3.  We  do  not  affirm,  that  in  every  particular 
case  religion  is  more  s-uccessful  in  procuring;; 
some  temporal  advaiita°;e  than  the  violation 
of  it ;  so  that  to  consider  society  only  in  this 
point  of  light,  and  to  coiifine  it  to  this  particular 
case,  independently  of  all  other  circumstances, 
religion  yields  tlie  honour  of  prosperity  to  in- 
iusttce.  We  allow  some  state  crimes  have 
been  successful,  and  have  been  the  steps  by 
which  ''ome  people  have  acquired  worldly 
"■lory.  We  even  allow,  that  virtue  has  some- 
lim-T-s  been  an  obstacle  to  grandeur.  We  only 
affirm,  that  if  a  nation  be  considered  in  every 
point  of  light,  and  in  aU  circumstances,  if  all 
thino-s  be  weighed,  it  will  be  found  that  the 
more  a  society  practises  virtue,  the  more  pros 
penty  it  will  enjoy.  We  afiirm,  that  the 
more  it  abandons  itself  to  vice,  the  more  misery 
will  it  sooner  or  later  suffer  ;  so  that  the  very 
vice  which  contributed  to  its  exaltation,  will 
produce  its  destruction  ;  and  the  very  virtue, 
which  seems  at  first  to  aba-e  it,  will  in  the  end 
exalt  its  glory.     This  is  a  third  elucidation. 

4.  We  do  not  mean  by  exaltation  that  sort 
of  elevation  at  which  worldly  heroes,  or  rather 
tyrants,  aspire.  We  acknowledge  that,  if  by 
'exalting  a  nation'  be  understood  an  elevation 
extending  itself  beyond  the  limits  of  rectitude, 
an  elevation  not  directed  by  justice  and  good 
faith,  an  elevation  consi,~tins  of  the  acqui«i 
sitions  of  wanton  and  arbitrary  power,  an  ele- 
vation obliging  the  whole  world  to  sui.'mit  to 
a  yoke  of  slavery,  and  so  becoming  an  execu 
tioner  of  divine  vengeance  on  all  mankind  ; 
we  allow  that,  in  this  sense,  exaltation  is  not 
an  effect  of  righteousness.  But,  if  we  under- 
stand by  '  exalting  a  nation'  whatever  governs 
with  gentleness,  negociatcs  with  success,  at- 
tacks with  courage,  defends  with  resolution, 
and  constitutes  tlie  happine  s  of  a  people, 
whatever  God  always  beholds  with  favour- 


able eyes  ;  if  this  be  wliat  is  meant  by  '  ex- 
alting a  nation,'  we  affirm  a  nation  is  exalted 
only  by  righteousness. 

5.  In  fine,  we  do  not  affirm  that  the  pros- 
perity of  siich  a  nation  would  be  so  perfect  as 
to  exclude  all  untoward  circumstaiices.  We 
only  say,  that  the  highest  glory  and  the  most 
prrfect  happiness  which  can  be  enjoyed  by  a 
nation  in  a  worbl,  where,  after  al,  there  is  al- 
ways a  mixture  of  adversity  with  prosperity, 
are  the  fruit?  of  righteousness.  These  eluci- 
dations must  be  retained,  not  only  because  they 
explain  the  thesis  which  we  are  supporting, 
and  because  they  are  the  ground  of  what  we 
shad  hereafter  say ;  but  also  because  they 
serve  to  preclude  such  objections,  to  solve  such 
difficulties,  and  to  unravel  sucn  sophisms,  as 
the  author  whom  we  oppose  urges  against 
us. 

One  argument  against  us  is  taken  from  the 
abuses  which  religion  has  caused  in  society; 
but  this  objection  is  removed,  by  taking  away 
false  ideas  of  religion.  A  second  objection  is 
taken  from  the  case  of  some  luolatrou*  nations, 
who.  though  they  were  strangers  to  revealed 
religion,  have  yet  arrived  at  a  great  height  of 
wori'liy  glory  ;  but  this  objection  is  removed 
by  our  second  elucidation.  A  third  oijection 
is  taken  from  some  particular  case,  in  which 
vice  is  of  more  advantage  to  a  state  than  vir- 
tue; but  this  objection  falls  before  the  man- 
ner in  which  we  have  stated  the  question.  A 
fourth  objection  is  taken  from  extravagant  no- 
tions of  glory  ;  but  this  objeclion  is  removed 
by  distinguishing  true  exaltation  from  false. 
Finally,  an  objection  i.s  taken  fri^m  the  evils 
which  the  most  virtuous  societies  suffer;  and 
we  have  acknowledged,  that  this  world  will 
alw.iys  be  to  public  bodies  what  it  is  to  indi- 
viduals, a  place  of  misery  ;  and  we  have  con- 
tented ourselves  wiih  affirming,  that  the  most 
solid  happiness  which  can  be  enjoyed  h- re.  has 
righteousness  fi.r  its  cause.  The  narrow  lim- 
its to  which  we  are  confined,  will  not  allow  us 
to  carry  our  reflections  any  farther.  They, 
however,  who  meditate  proloundly  on  the 
aiatter,  will  easily  perceive  thai  all  thefe  ob- 
jection.s  are,  if  not  abundantly  refuted,  at 
least  sufficiently  precluded  by  our  explica- 
tions. 

^  e  will  now  proceed  to  show  the  grounds 
of  the  maxim  of  he  Wise  .Man.  We  wdl  open 
six  sources  of  reflections ;  an  idea  of  society  in 
general ;  the  constitution  of  each  government 
in  particular  ;  the  nature  ot  arts  and  sciences  ; 
the  conduct  of  Providence  ;  the  promises  of 
God  himself;  and  the  history  of  all  ages. 
These  articles  make  up  the  remainder  of  this 
discourse. 

H.  1.  Let  us  first  form  an  idea  of  society  in  ge- 
neral, and  considerthe  motives  which  induced 
mankind  to  unite  themselves  in  society,  and  to 
fix  themselves  in  one  }<lace.  Ry  domg  this  we 
shall  perceive,  that  'righteousness'  is  the  only 
thing  that  can  r*  n  l^r  nations  happy.  Every 
individual  ha«  infinite  wants;  but  only  finite 
faculties  fo  supply  them.  Each  individual  of 
mankind  has  need  of  knowledge  to  inform  him, 
laws  to  direct  him,  property  to  support  him, 
medicines  to  relieve  him,  aliments  to  nourish 


Ser.  XL VII.] 


RELIGION  AND  CIVIL  POLITY. 


413 


him,  clothing  and  lodging  to  defend  himself 
against  the  injuries  of  the  seasons.  How  easy 
would  it  be  to  enlarge  this  catalogue  !  Simi- 
lar interests  form  a  similar  design.  Divers 
men  unite  themselves  together,  in  o'der  that 
the  industry  of  all  may  supply  the  wants  of 
each.  This  is  the  origin  of  societies  and  pub- 
lic bodies  of  men. 

It  is  easy  to  comprehend  that,  in  order  to  en- 
joy the  blessings  proposed  by  this  assemblage, 
some  fixed  maxims  must  be  laid  down  and  in- 
violably obeyed.  It  will  be  necessary  lor  all 
the  members  of  this  body  to  consider  them- 
selves as  naturally  equal,  that  by  this  idea 
they  may  be  inclined  to  afford  each  other 
mutual  succonr.  It  will"  be  necessary  that 
they  should  be  sincere  to  each  other,  lest  de- 
ceit should  serve  for  a  veil  to  conceal  the  fatal 
designs  of  some  from  the  eyes  of  the  rest.  It 
will  be  necessary  for  all  to  observe  the  rules 
of  rigid  equity,  that  so  they  muy  fulfil  the  con- 
tracts which  they  bound  themselves  to  per- 
form, jvhen  they  were  admitted  into  this  soci- 
ety. It  will  be  necessary  that  esteem  and  be- 
nevolence should  give  life  and  action  to  right- 
eousness. It  will  be  necessary  that  the  happi- 
ness of  all  should  be  preferred  before  the  inte- 
rest of  one  ;  and  that  in  cases  where  public 
and  private  interests  cla«h,  the  public  good 
should  always  prevail.  It  will  be  necessary 
that  each  should  cultivate  his  own  talents, 
that  he  may  contribute  to  the  happiness  of 
that  society  to  which  he  ought  to  devote  him- 
self with  the  utmost  sincerity  and  zeal. 

Now,  my  brjthreii,  what  can  bo  more  pro- 
per to  make  us  observe  these  rules  than  reli- 
gion, than  righteousness  ?  Religion  brings  us 
to  feel  our  natural  equality  ;  it  teaches  us  that 
we  originate  in  the  same  dust,  have  the  same 
God  for  our  Creator,  are  all  descended  from 
the  same  first  parents,  <ill  partake  of  the  same 
miseries,  and  are  all  doomed  to  the  same  last 
end.  Religion  teaches  us  sincerity  to  each 
other,  that  tiie  tongue  should  be  a  faithfui  in- 
terpreter of  the  mind,  that  we  should  '  speak 
every  man  truth  with  his  neighbour,'  Eph.  iv. 
25  ;  and  that,  being  always  in  the  sight  of  the 
God  of  truth,  we  should  never  depart  from  the 
laws  of  truth.  Religion  teaches  us  to  be  just, 
that  we  should  '  render  to  all  their  dues  ;  tri- 
bute to  whom  tribute  is  due,  custom  to  whom 
custom,  fear  to  whom  fear,  honour  to  whom 
honour ;  that  whatsoever  we  would  men 
should  do  unto  us,  we  should  do  even  so  unto 
them,'  Rom.  xiii.  7;  Matt.  vii.  12.  Religion 
requires  us  to  be  animated  with  charity,  to 
consider  each  other  as  creatures  of  one  God, 
subjects  of  the  same  king,  members  of  one  bo- 
dy, and  heirs  of  the  same  glory.  Religion  re- 
quires us  to  give  up  private  interest  to  public 
good,  not  to  seek  our  own,  but  every  one  ano- 
ther's wealth;  it  even  requires  us  to  lay  down 
our  lives  for  the  brethren.  Thus,  by  consider- 
ing nations  in  these  primitive  views,  it  is 
'  righteousness'  alone  that '  exalts'  them. 

2.  But  all  this  is  too  vague.  We  proceed 
nest  to  consider  each  form  of  government  in 
particular.  It  is  impracticable  for  all  the 
members  of  societ)',  on  every  pressing  occa- 
sion, to  aasemblo  together  and  give  their  suf- 

:\  G 


frages.  Public  bodies,  therefore,  agree  to  set 
apart  some  ol  their  number  who  are  account- 
ed the  soul,  the  will,  the  determination  of  the 
whole.  Some  nations  have  committed  the 
supreme  power  to  one,  whom  they  call  a  mo- 
narch ;  this  is  a  monarchical  state.  Others 
have  committed  supreme  power  to  a  few  of 
their  own  body  called  magistrates,  senators, 
nobles,  or  some  other  honourable  appellation ; 
this  is  a  republic,  called  in  the  schools  an  ari- 
stocracy. Others  have  diffused  supreme  pow- 
er more  equally  among  all  the  membeis  of 
their  society,  and  have  placed  it  in  all  heads  of 
families ;  this  is  a  popular  government,  usual- 
ly called  a  democracy.  Society  gives  it  autho- 
rity and  privileges  into  the  hands  of  those  per- 
sons ;  it  intrusts  and  empowers  them  to  make 
laws,  to  impose  taxes,  to  raise  subsidies,  to 
make  peace,  or  to  declare  war,  to  reward  vir- 
tue, to  punish  vice,  in  one  word,  to  do  what- 
ever may  be  beneficial  to  the  whole  society, 
with  the  felicity  of  which  they  are  intrusted. 

If  we  consider  those  various  forms  of  go- 
vernment, we  shall  find  that  each  nation  will 
be  more  or  less  happy  in  its  own  mode  of  go- 
verning, will  more  or  less  prevent  the  inconve- 
niences to  which  it  is  subject,  according  as  it 
shall  have  more  or  less  attachment  to  religion 
or  righteousness. 

What  are  the  particular  inconveniences  of  a 
monarchical  governineiiti'  In  what  cases  is 
monarchy  fatal  to  the  liberty,  and  so  to  the  fe- 
licity of  the  nation .''  When  the  monarch,  in- 
stead of  making  the  good  of  the  people  his  su- 
preme law,  follows  nothing  but  his  own  ca- 
price. VViien  he  thinks  himself  vested  with 
supreme  power  for  his  own  glory,  and  not  for 
the  glory  of  his  kingdom.  When,  by  stretch- 
ing his  auti'ority  beyond  its  lawful  bounds,  he 
endeavours  arbitrarily  to  dispose  of  the  lives 
and  fortunes  of  his  subjects  When,  in  order 
to  avenge  a  private  quarrel,  or  to  satiate  his 
thirst  for  glory,  from  which  his  people  derive 
no  benefit,  he  engages  them  in  bloody  wars, 
and  sacrifices  them  to  a  vain  and  imaginary 
grandeur.  When  he  wastes  the  substance  of 
his  people  in  superb  buildings,  in  excessive 
embellishments,  and  in  sumptuous  equipages. 
When  he  imposes  on  them  enormous  tributes, 
and  exorbitant  taxes.  When  he  is  inaccessi- 
ble to  the  widow  and  the  orphan.  When  he 
gives  himself  up  to  indolence,  and  does  not  stu- 
dy the  wants  of  his  subjects.  When,  though 
he  appropriates  to  himself  the  adva,ntages  of 
empire,  yet,  in  order  to  free  himself  from  the 
fatigue  of  governing,  he  commits  the  reins  to 
a  rash  counsellor  or  to  an  insolent  favourite. 
When  he  entertains  such  an  idea  of  royalty  as 
one  anciently  formed,  who  defined  it  a  right 
to  do  whatever  we  will  with  impunity ;  such 
an  idea  as  that,  which  a  mean  flatterer  gave  of 
it  to  Alexander  the  Great,  do  as  many  unjust 
actions  as  you  will,  impoverish  your  subjects 
by  exactions,  extortions,  and  rapines,  to  satisy 
your  luxury  and  ambition,  it  is  all  right,  it  i 
all  lovely,  because  you  choose  to  have  it  so.* 
When,  instead  of  being  the  father  of  his  peo- 
le,  he  strives  to  be  the  executioner,  like  that 

utarch  ad  princij>=  indo(^- 


414 


THE  HARMONY  OF 


[Ser.  XL VII. 


brutal  emperor  who  wished  the  Roman  em- 
pire had  but  one  head  that  he  might  strike  it 
off  at  a  blow.*  These  are  the  inconveniences 
of  the  first  kind  of  government. 

In  what  cases  is  the  second  kind  of  govern- 
ment hurtful  ?  Is  it  not  when  any  one  of  the 
magistrates,  instead  of  considering  himself  as  a 
single  member  of  the  assembly,  aims  to  be  the 
head  of  it  ?  When  he  intrudes  into  office  by 
sinister  means.  When  he  uses  his  power  not 
for  the  public  good,  but  for  the  advancement 
and  glory  of  his  own  family.  When  he  is  mean 
enough  to  sell  his  vote.  When  he  ingratiates 
himself  with  a  number  of  seditious  people,  in 
order  to  form  cabals,  and  to  engross  supreme 
power.  When  he  does  not  take  pains  to  in- 
form himself  of  the  merits  of  a  cause,  before 
he  determine  it.  When  he  associates  col- 
leagufs  with  himself,  whose  incapacity  is  in- 
tended to  be  made  a  foil  to  his  own  abilities, 
instead  of  calling  in  men  more  able  than  him- 
self to  supply  his  own  defects.  In  fine,  when 
he  makes  himself  judge  in  his  own  cause. 

Let  us  observe,  lastly,  when  a  popular  go 
vernment  becomes  hurtful.  Is  it  not  when, 
by  a  mere  principle  of  levity,  laws  are  made 
and  unmade  by  caprice  ?  When  under  pre- 
tence of  equality,  a  proper  deference  to  supe- 
rior understandings  is  refused  ?  When  intrigue 
and  cabal  give  effect  to  evil  counsels?  When 
a  powerful  faction  oppresses  the  virtuous  few  ? 
When  popular  liberty  degenerates  into  licen- 
tiousness and  anarchy,  and  when  the  ambition 
of  many  becomes  an  evil  as  enormous  and  fa- 
tal as  the  tyranny  of  one  ?  These,  and  many 
more,  are  the  imperff  ctions  of  these  three 
sorts  of  government.  Need  we  to  take  up 
your  time  in  proving,  that  all  these  ills  are 
most  and  best  precluded  by  religion  ?  Do  we 
not  all  recollect  some  Scripture  maxims  which 
would  restram  these  excesses?  I  need  not  there- 
fore multiply  quotations  to  prove  this  point. 
Is  not  each  of  us  convinced  that,  if  we  thus 
consider  nations  in  regard  to  the  forms  of  their 
government,  it  is  righteousness  alone  that  ex- 
alts them  ? 

3.  Our  doctrine  will  appear  in  clearer  light 
still,  if  we  proceed  to  examine  ths  liberal  arts 
and  sciences.  The  more  a  society  lollows  the 
spirit  of  religion,  the  more  will  religion  cher 
ish  them  under  its  fostering  wing.  Jurispru- 
dence will  flourish,  because  law  will  be  disen- 
gaged from  ambiguity,  which  perpetuates  ani- 
mosities ;  because  counsellors  will  plead  none 
but  just  causes;  and  becausejudges  will  never 
suffer  themselves  to  be  corrupted  by  'gifts, 
which  blind  the  eyes  of  the  wise,'  but  will  al- 
ways decide  according  to  the  spirit  of  the  law, 
and  the  dictates  of  conscience. 

The  military  art  will  flourish,  becaixse  the 
soldier  wdl  not  defraud  the  officer,  the  officer 
will  not  defraud  the  soldier;  because  both 
will  go  into  the  army  not  merely  to  obtain  the 
favour  ot  their  governors,  but  to  please  God  ; 
because,  being  prep^ired  to  die  by  an  anticipa- 
ted repentance,  their  ardour  will  not  be  re- 
strained by  the  fear  of  falling  into  the  hands  of 
an   angry  God;    because,  should  they  have 

.*  Sueton.  Calig.  Cliap.  stx. 


neglected  to  conciliate  the  favour  of  God  be- 
fore a  battle,  they  would  be  persuaded,  even 
in  the  heat  of  it,  that  the  best  way  to  please 
him  would  be  to  discharge  the  duty  of  their 
office ;  whereas,  when  soldiers  feel  their  con- 
sciences agitated,  when  amidst  the  discharge  of 
the  artillery  of  their  enemies  they  discover 
eternal  flames,  when  they  see  hell  opening  un- 
der their  feet,  and  the  horrors  of  eternal  pun- 
ishment succeeding  those  of  the  field  of  battle, 
they  always  fight  with  reluctance,  and  endea- 
vour to  avoid  future  misery  by  running  away 
from  present  death.  ^ 

In  a  virtuous  state  commerce  will  flourish, 
because  the  merchant,  always  speaking  the 
truth,  and  dealing  with  good  faith,  will  at- 
tract general  credit  and  confidence ;  always 
following  the  rules  of  wisdom  and  prudence, 
he  will  never  engage  in  rash  undertakings, 
which  ruin  families  and  subvert  whole  houses ; 
not  being  animated  with  avarice  or  vainglo- 
ry, he  will  not  first  acquire  riches  by  injustice, 
and  next  waste  them  with  indiscretion  ;  de- 
pending on  the  blessing  of  heaven,  all  his  la- 
bours will  be   enlivened    with   courage  and 

In  such  a  state  divinity  will  flourish,  because 
each,  burning  with  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God, 
will  carefully  cultivate  a  science  which  has 
God  for  it»  object :  because,  being  free  from  a 
party-spirit,  he  will  receive  the  truth,  what- 
ever hand  may  present  it  to  him ;  because,  by 
referring  religion  to  its  chief  end,  be  will  not 
spend  his  life  in  the  pursuit  of  trifles  :  because, 
full  of  zeal  for  his  salvation,  he  will  be  atten- 
tive to  every  step  towards  it ;  because,  not  be- 
ing enslaved  by  his  passions,  he  will  not  be 
enveloped  in  the  darkness  produced  by  them, 
or,  to  express  myself  in  the  language  of  Scrip- 
ture, because  by  doing  the  will  of  God,  he 
will  know  whether  such  and  such  doctrines  j 
come  from  the  Supreme  Being,  or  from  the  I 
preacher  only,  John  vii.  17.  1 

The  mechanical  arts  will  flourish  in  a  vir- 
tuous state,  because  they,  on  whom  God  has 
not  bestowed  genius  equal  to  the  investigation 
of  abstract  sciences,  whom  he  has  fitted  for 
less  noble  stations  in  society,  wdl  fill  up  those 
stations  with  the  utmost  care,  and  will  be 
happy  in  deriving  from  them  such  advantages 
as  they  produce.  Thus  a  just  notion  of  arts 
and  sciences  «>pen3  to  us  a  third  source  of  argu- 
ments to  pro\  e  the  truth  of  our  text. 

4.  Thedoctrine of Providenceo\)ens afourth, 
as  others  have  observed.  The  conduct  of  Pro- 
vidence in  regard  to  public  bodies  is  very  dif- 
ferent from  that  which  prevails  m  the  case  of  , 
individuals.  In  regard  to  the  latter,  Provi- 
dence is  involved  in  darkness.  Many  times  it 
seems  to  condemn  virtue  and  crown  injustice, 
to  leave  innocence  to  groan  in  silence,  and  to 
empower  guilt  to  riot  and  triumph  in  public. 
The  wicked  rich  man  fared  sumptuously  every 
day,  Lazarus  desired  in  vain,  to  be  fed  with 
the  crumbs  that  fell  from  his  table,'  Luke  xvi. 
19.  21.  St.  Paul  was  executed  on  a  scaffold. 
Nero  reigned  on  Caesar's  throne.  And  to  say 
all  ill  one  word,  Jesus  Chrst  was  born  in  a 
stable,  and  Herod  lived  and  died  in  a  palace. 

But  Providence  is  directed  in  a  different 


Ser.  XLVIK] 


RELIGION  AND  CIVIL  POLITY. 


415 


method  in  regard  lo  public  bodies.  Prosperi- 
ty in  them  is  the  effect  of  righteousness,  public 
happines?  is  the  reward  of  public  virtue,  the 
wisest  nation  is  usually  the  most  successful, 
and  virtue  walks  with  glory  by  her  side.  God 
sometimes  indeed  afflicts  the  most  virtuous 
nations  ;  but  he  does  so  with  the  design  of 
purifying  them,  and  of  opening  new  occasions 
to  bestow  larger  benefits  on  them.  He  some- 
times indeed  prospers  wicked  nations ;  but 
their  prosperity  is  an  effort  of  his  patience 
and  long-suffering,  it  is  to  give  them  time  to 
prevent  their  destruction  ;  yet,  after  all,  as  I 
said  before,  prosperity  usually  follows  righte- 
ousness in  public  bodies,  public  happiness  is 
the  reward  of  public  virtue,  the  wisest  nation 
is  the  most  successful,  and  glory  is  generally 
connected  with  virtue. 

They  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  this  re- 
flection have  grounded  it  on  this  reason — A 
day  will  come  when  Lazarus  will  be  indem- 
nified, and  the  rich  man  punished  ;  St.  Paul 
will  be  rewarded,  and  N?ro  will  be  confound- 
ed ;  Jesus  Christ  will  fill  a  throne,  and  Herod 
■will  be  covered  with  ignominy.  Innocence 
will  be  avenged,  justice  satisfied,  the  majesty 
of  the  laws  repaired,  and  the  rights  of  God 
maintained. 

But  such  a  retribution  is  impracticable  in 
regard  to  public  bodies.  A  nation  cannot  be 
punished  then  as  a  nation,  a  province  as  a  pro- 
vince, a  kingdom  as  a  kingdom.  All  different 
sorts  of  government  will  be  then  abolished. 
One  individual  of  a  people  will  be  put  in  pos- 
session of  glory,  while  another  will  be  cover- 
ed with  shame  and  confusion  of  face.  It 
should  seem  then,  that  Providence  owes  to  its 
own  rectitude  those  times  of  vengeance  in 
which  it  pours  all  its  wrath  on  wicked  socie- 
ties, sends  them  plagues,  wars,  famines,  and 
other  catastrophes,  of  which  history  gives  us 
so  many  memorable  examples.  To  place 
hopes  altogether  on  worldly  policy,  to  pretend 
to  derive  advantages  from  vice  and  so  to  found 
the  happiness  of  society  on  the  ruins  of  reli- 
gion and  virtue,  what  is  this  but  to  insult 
Providence  ?  This  is  to  arouse  that  power 
against  us,  which  sooner  or  later  overwhelms 
and  confounds  vicious  societies. 

5.  If  the  obscurity  of  the  ways  of  Provi- 
dence, which  usually  renders  doubtful  the 
reasonings  of  men  on  its  conduct,  weaken  the 
last  argument,  let  us  proceed  to  consider  in  the 
next  place  the  declarations  of  God  himself  on 
this  article.  The  whole  twenty-eighth  chapter 
of  Deuteronomy,  all  the  blessings  and  curses 
pronounced  there  fully  prove  our  doctrine. 
Head  this  tender  complaint  which  God  for- 
merly made  concerning  the  irregularities  of 
his  people.  '  O  that  they  were  wise,  that  they 
tmderstood  this,  that  they  would  consider  their 
latter  end  !  How  should  one  chase  a  thousand, 
or  two  put  ten  thousand  to  flight.'  chap  xxxii. 
29,  30.  Read  the  affecting  words  which  he 
uttered  by  the  mouth  of  his  prophet,  '  O  that 
my  people  had  hearkened  unto  me,  and  Israel 
had  walked  in  my  ways  !  I  should  soon  have 
subdued  their  enemies,  and  turned  my  hand 
against  their  adversaries.  Their  time  should 
have  endured  for  ever.    I  should  have  fe^ 


them  also  with  the  finest  of  the  wheat ;  and 
with  honey  out  of  the  rock  should  I  have  sa- 
tisfied them,'  Ps.  Ixxxi.  13,  &c.  Read  the 
noble  jiromises  made  by  the  ministry  of  Isaiah, 
'  Thussaith  the  Lord  thy  Redeemer,  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel,  I  am  the  Lord  thy  God  which 
teacheth  thee  to  profit,  which  leadeth  thee  by 
the  way  thou  shouldest  go.  O  that  thou 
hadst  hearkened  to  my  commandments  I  then 
had  thy  peace  been  as  a  river,  and  thy  right- 
eousness as  tiie  waves  of  the  sea  ;  thy  seed 
also  had  been  as  the  sand,  and  thy  name  should 
not  have  been  cut  off",  nor  destroyed  from 
before  me,'  chap,  xlviii.  17,  &c.  Read  the 
terrible  threatenings  denounced  by  the  pro- 
phet Jeremiah,  '  Though  Moses  and  Samuel 
stood  before  me,  yet  my  mind  could  not  te 
towards  this  people;  cast  them  out  of  my 
sight,  and  let  them  go  forth.  And  it  shall 
come  to  pass,  if  they  say  unto  thee,  whither 
shall  we  go  forth  ?  then  thou  shalt  tell  them, 
thus  saith  the  Lord,  such  as  are  for  death, 
to  death;  and  such  as  are  for  the  sword,  to 
the  sword  ;  and  such  as  are  for  the  famine 
to  the  famine  ;  and  such  as  are  for  the  capti- 
vity to  the  captivity.  And  I  wdl  appoint 
over  them  four  kinds,  saith  the  Lord ;  the 
sword  lo  blay,  and  the  dogs  to  tear,  and  the 
fowls  of  the  heaven,  and  the  beasts  of  the 
earth,  to  devour  and  destroy.  For  who  shall 
have  pity  upon  thee,  O  Jerusalem ;  or  who 
shall  bemoan  ihee  ?  or  who  shall  go  aside  to 
ask  how  thou  doest.'  Thou  hast  forsaken  me, 
saith  the  Lord,  thou  art  gone  backward  ;  there- 
fore will  I  stretch  out  my  hand  against  thee, 
and  destroy  thee  ;  I  am  weary  of  repenting,' 
chap.  XV.  1,  &c.  The  language  of  our  text  is 
agreeable  to  all  these  passages  ;  it  is  '  right- 
eousness,' says  the  text,  it  is  righteousness 
that '  exalteth  a  nation.'  Thus  God  speaks^ 
moreover,  thus  he  acts,  as  we  shall  show  you; 
in  the  next  article. 

6.  The  history  of  all  ages  aff"ords  us  another 
class  of  arguments  in  defence  of  our  doctrine, 
and  so  proves  the  truth  of  it  by  experi- 
ence. 

Had  ever  preacher  a  wider  or  more  fruitful 
field  than  this  which  opens  to  our  view  in  this 
part  of  our  discourse.'  Shall  we  produce  you 
a  list  of  Egyptians,  Persians,  Assyrians,  and 
Greeks,  or  Romans,  who  surpasses  them  all? 
Shall  we  show  you  all  these  nations  by  turns 
exalted  as  they  respected  righteousness,  or 
abased  as  they  neglected  it  ? 

By  what  mysterious  art  did  ancient  Egypt 
subsist  with  so  much  glory  during  a  period  of 
fifteen  or  sixteen  ages  .'*  By  a  benevolence 
so  extensive,  that  he  who  refused  to  relieve 
the  wretched,  when  he  had  it  in  his  power  to 
assist  him,  was  himself  pur.ished  with  death  ; 
by  a  justice  so  impartial,  that  their  kings  ob- 
liged the  judges  to  take  an  oath  that  they 
would  never  do  any  thing  against  their  own 
consciences,  though  they  the  kings  themselves, 
should  command  them ;  by  an  aversion  to 
bad  princes  so  fixed  as  to  deny  them  the  hon-. 
ours  of  a  funeral ;  by  invariably  rendering  to 
merit  public  praise,  even  beyond  the  grave ; 

*  Diodor.  Sicil.  lib.  i.  sect.  2.    Herod,  lib.  ii. 


416 


THE  HARMONY  OF 


[Skr.  XL VII 


for  •when  an  Egyptian  died,  a  sessions  was  held 
for  the  direct  purpose  of  inquiring  how  he 
had  spent  his  Hfe,  so  that  all  ihe  respect  due 
to  his  memory  might  be  paid  ;  by  entertain- 
ing such  just  ideas  of  the  vanity  of  life,  a*  to 
consider  their  houses  as  inns,  m  which  Ihey 
•were  to  lodge,  as  it  were,  only  for  a  mght,  and 
their  sepulchres  as  habitations,  in  which  they 
■were  to  abide  many  a^es,  in  which,  therefore, 
they  united  all  the  solidity  and  pomp  of  archi 
tecture,  witness  their  famous  pyramids;  by  a 
life  so  laborious,  that  even  their  amusements 
•were  adapted  to  strt'n2:tlieii  the  1  ody  and  im- 
prove the  mind;  by  a  readiness  to  discharge 
their  debts  so  remarkable,  that  Ihey  had  a  law 
which  prohibited  the  borrowing  of  money 
except  on  condition  of  pleds:ing  the  body  of  a 
parent  for  payment,  a  deposit  so  venerable, 
that  a  man  who  deferred  the  redemption  of  it 
was  looked  upon  with  horror  ;  in  one  word, 
bv  a  -wisdom  so  profound,  that  v'cses  himselt 
is  renowned  in  Scripture  for  heins:  learned  in  it. 

By  what  marvellous  method  did  the  Per- 
sians obtain  such  a  distinguished  place  of  hon 
oiir  in  ancient  history  f*  By  considering 
falsehood  in  the  most  horrid  li^ht,  as  a  vice 
the  meanest  and  most  disgraceful ;  by  a  noble 
generosity,  conferring  favours  on  the  notions 
they  conquered,  and  leaving  them  to  enjoy  all 
the  ensigns  of  their  former  grandeur ;  by  a 
universal  equity,  obliging  themselves  to  pub- 
lish the  virtues  of  their  oreatest  enfmies  ;  by 
observing  as  an  in\  iolable  secret  state  affairs, 
so  that,  to  use  the  language  of  an  ancient  au- 
thor neither  promises  nor  threaienings  could 
extort  it,  for  the  ancient  laws  of  the  kingdom 
obliged  them  to  be  silent  under  pain  of  death  ; 
by  a  decorum  so  regular,  that  queens  and  all 
court  ladies  quitted  the  taMe  as  soon  as  ever 
the  company  began  to  lay  aside  moderation 
in  drinking;  by  religiously  recor  ling  noble 
actions,  and  transmitting  them  to  posterity  in 
public  registers ;  by  educating  their  children 
so  wisely,  that  they  were  taught  virtue  as 
other  nations  were  taught  letters ;  by  disco- 
vering no  grief  for  such  youths  as  died  une- 
ducated. The  children  of  the  royal  family 
•were  put  at  fourteen  years  of  age  into  the 
hands  of  four  of  tlie  wisest  and  most  virtuous 
statesmen.  The  first  taught  them  the  wor- 
ship of  the  gods  ;  tlie  second  trained  them  Up 
to  speak  truth  and  practice  equity;  the  third 
habituated  them  to  subdue  voluptuousness, 
to  enjoy  real  liberty, to  be-ilways  priice'-,  and 
alwuys  masters  of  themselves  and  thoir  own 
passions;  the  fourth  inspired  them  •with  cou- 
rage, and  by  teaching  them  how  to  command 
themselves,  tautjht  them  how  to  maintain 
dominion  over  others. 

We  purposely  omit  the  noble  and  virtuous 
actions  of  the  Assyrians,  the  Medes,  the 
Greeks,  and  other  nations,  who  were  the  glory 
of  the  ages  in  which  they  lived.  But  let  us 
not  pass  by  ancient  Rome.  \Va?  ever  nntion 
more  exalted 't  One  expression  of  Cesar 
•will  give  us  a  just  notion  of  their  exc.  Hence. 
Cic^^ro   recommended    a  friend    to   him.  and 


•  Herod,  lih.  i.  iii.  Plat.  Alcib.  1. 
f    Moutagne  de    la   grandeur   Komaine,   liv. 
chap.  34. 


this  was  his  answer ;  '  In  regard  to  Marcus 
Furius,  whom  you  have  recommended  to  me, 
I  will  make  him  king  of  Gaul.  If  you  have 
any  other  friends  you  wish  to  have  promoted, 
you  m■^y  command  me.'*  But  by  what  un- 
heard-of prodigy  did  old  Rome,  compo'^ed  at 
first  of  no  more  than  three  thousand  inhabi- 
tants, carry  conquest  in  less  than  «ix  hundred 
years  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  ?  Thus  speaks 
the  emperor  Julian.  By  -what  impenetrable 
-ecret  did  this  confused  mixture  of  vag-abonda 
and  thieves  become  a  seminary  of  heroism 
and  grundeur."'  By  a  wise  d'icility,  so  that 
even  kings  sometimes  submitted  to  the  advice 
of  individuals  ;  witness  Tullus  Host  lius,  who 
durst  not  decide  the  case  of  Horatius.  but  re- 
ferred it  to  the  people  ;t  by  ai!  observation  of 
the  law  so  strict,  that  Brutus  condem'  ed  his 
two  sons  to  die  by  the  hand  of  the  public  ex- 
ecutioner, for  having  listened  to  the  ambitious 
proposals  of  the  Tarquins.  who  were  conspir- 
ing to  enslave  the  citizens  and  remfiunt  the 
throne  ;  by  a  frugality  so  great,  that  such  men 
as  Curius,  Fabricius  Regulus,  ^milius  Pau- 
lus,  and  Mummius,  these  great  deliverers  of 
the  Roman  people,  were  seen  to  teed  their  own 
cattle,  to  cultivate  their  lards,  and  to  live 
without  pomp  and  parai'e;  by  an  excellent 
economy,  so  that  Atiliu-  Re<3:nlus,  who  com- 
manded a  Roman  army  in  Africa,  demanded 
leave  of  the  senate  to  go  home  and  provide 
'or  the  wants  of  his  family,  from  whom  a  day- 
labourer  had  stolen  the  working-tools  used  in 
cultivating  his  estate  of  seven  acres  ;  a  requi- 
sition So  just  that  the  senate  engaged  to  buy 
tools  to  cultivate  his  land,  and  to  support  his 
wife  and  children  at  the  public  charge ;;{:  so 
far  did  they  carry  this  virtue,  that  the  elder 
C'ato,  returning  from  Spain  to  Italy,  sold  his 
horse  to  save  the  charge  of  freight  ;  and  usu- 
ally, when  he  traV'  lied,  carried  his  own 
knapsack,  which  contained  all  his  travelling 
necessaries;  by  an  ardent  love  for  the  i/enera! 
STood,  so  that  every  thing  was  reserved  for 
the  puMic;  temples,  baths,  roads,  aqueducts, 
triumphal  arches,  all  were  supeib  when  the 
national  glory  was  in  view,  as  all  things  for 
the  use  of  individuals  were  plain  ;  by  an  ut- 
ter aversion  to  usoless  bravery,  so  that  they 
considered  in  a  ligh.t  equally  mean  the  genera! 
who  exposed  his  person  needlessly,  and  him 
who  avoided  danger  when  the  public  good 
rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  expose  him- 
selt ;§  by  a  scrupulous  caution  not  to  under- 
take unjust  wars;  to  guard  against  which 
they  had  a  college  at  Rome,  where  it  was 
coolly  examined  whether  an  intended  war 
were  just  or  unjust,  before  it  was  proposed  to 
the  senate  and  the  people  :||  by  an  insurmount- 
able aversion  to  every  species  of  military  Iraud, 
so  th'rit  Lucius  Marcius,  (my  brethren,  how 
ought  this  idea  of  pagan  heroes  to  cover  some 


*  f'icer.  Epist.  ad.  fainil.  Ub.  vii.  5.  Some  copies 
read  not  Furius,  but  jM.  Orjius.  See  Spaiiheim  in  the 
fesars,  p.  Ii>i 

t  Liv.  lib.  i.  16. 

\  I.iv.  r^pitom  liv.  18.  Montagne  de  la  parsimo- 
nie  des  aiicien>-,  liv.  i.  chap.  5i2. 

$  i^allust  df  bell  <'atH  i'x. 

II  Coll.  des.  feciauK.  Dion.  Halir.  lib.  ii.  Antiq. 
Rom.  liv.  i.  33. 


SK.n.  XLVn.] 


RELIGION  AND  CIVIL  POLITY. 


417 


with  confusion,  who  ostentatiously  affect  to 
play  the  hero  in  the  Christian  world  !)  Lucius 
Marcius,  I  say,  having:  deceived  Perses,  king 
of  Macedotiia,  by  giviiig;  him  false  hopes  of 
peace,  and  having  conquered  him  by  this  stra- 
tagem, was  adjudged  by  the  senate  to  have 
violated  the  Roman  laws,  and  to  have  swerved 
from  the  ancient  customs,  according:  to  which 
it  was  a  maxim  to  conquer  by  valour  and  not 
by  iraud. 

I'  Having  shown  the  cause  of  the  prosperity 
of  ancient  nation-i,  we  were  to  inquire  into 
he  reasons  of  their  declme;  were  we  to  com- 
pare the  Egyptians  under  their  wise  kings 
with  the  i-.gyptians  in  a  time  of  anarchy,  the 
Persians  viciorions  under  Cyrus  wit^i  the 
Persians  enervated  by  the  luxuries  of  Asia; 
the  Romans  at  liberty  under  their  consuls, 
with  the  Homnns  enslaved  by  their  emperors, 
we  should  find,  hat  the  decline  of  each  of 
these  nations  was  owing  to  the  |)ractice  of  vices 
opposite  to  ihR  virtues  which  had  caused  its 
elevation  ;  we  should  be  obliged  to  acknow- 
ledge, that  vain-glory,  luxury,  voluptuousness, 
d'sunion,  envy,  and  boundless  ambition,  were 
the  hateful  means  of  subverting  states,  which 
in  tlie  height  of  their  jirosperity  expected,  an  \ 
in  all  appearance  justly  expected,  to  endure 
to  the  end  of  time  ;  we  stiould  be  obliged  to 
allow,  tha.  some  excesses,  which  in  certain 
circumstances  ha.l  contributed  to  exalt  these 
nat'.o.is,  were  in  other  circumstances  the  means 
of  ruining  them 

True,  am'iition  impelled  Cassar  to  elevate 
the  republic  of  Rome  to  a  pitch  as  high  as  it 
is  possible  for  human  grand-^ur  to  attain. 
Armed  for  thf  defence  of  the  republic,  he 
fought  for  it,  though  less  for  it  than  for  his  own 
glory,  and  displayed,  we  grant,  the  Roman 
eagle  in  the  farthest  parts  of  Asia,  ren  iered 
Gaul  tributary,  swelled  the  llhine  with  Ger- 
man blood,  subdued  the  Britons,  and  made  all 
the  Adriatic  coasis  resound  the  fame  of  his 
victories.  But  did  not  the  same  ambition  im- 
pel him  to  excite  a  civil  war,  to  arm  Rome 
against  Rome,  to  cover  the  Pharsalan  field 
with  carnage,  and  soak  the  ground  with  Ro- 
man blood,  to  pursue  the  shattered  remains  of 
Pompey's  army  into  the  heart  of  Alrca,  to 
give  a  queen,  or  rather  a  prostitute,  the  kin_- 
dom  of  Egypt,  to  reduce  the  first  and  most  free 
of  all  nations  to  a  state  of  meanness  and  ser- 
vility beneath  the  most  abject  of  mankind  ? 
For,  my  brethren,  what  were  these  Romans 
after  they  had  lost  their  liberty,  and  given 
themselves  up  to  absolute  masters?  These  Ro- 
mans, who  had  given  the  universal  law  ;  these 
Roman  citizens,  even  the  meanest  of  them, 
who  would  have  thought  themselves  disgraced 
had  they  mixed  their  blood  with  that  of  kings; 
these  Romans,  once  so  jealous  of  their  liberty, 
have  we  not  seen  these  very  people,  under 
their  emperors  submit  to  vassalage  so  as  to 
become  a  scandal  even  to  -slaves?  Infamous 
flatterers,  did  not  t'ley  erect  altars  to  C'laudiu~, 
Caligula,  and  Nero?  Did  not  Rome  hear  one 
of  its  citizens  address  this  language  to  the  la-t 
of  these  monsters  ?  '  Choose,  Csesar,  what 
place  you  will  among  the  immortal  gods. 
Will  you  sway  the  sceptre  of  Jupiter,   or 


mount  the  chariot  of  Apollo  ?  There  is  not 
a  deity  who  will  not  yield  his  empire  to  you, 
and  count  it  an  honour  to  resign  in  your  fa- 
vour.'* 

But  is  it  necessary  to  quote  ancient  history 
in  proof  of  what  we  have  advanced,  that  is, 
that  the  same  vices  which  contribute  at  first 
to  exalt  a  nation,  in  the  end  cause  its  decline 
and  ruin?  There  is  a  nation,!  in  favour 
of  which  all  tilings  seem  to  promise  a  general 
and  lasting  ]irosperity.  It  has  an  advantage- 
ous situation,  a  fruitful  soil,  a  temperate  cli- 
mate, an  agreeable  society,  an  easy  access,  a 
mutiial  generosity,  an  inimitable  industry, 
quick  penetration  in  council,  heroical  courage 
in  war,  incredible  success  in  trade,  surprising 
dexteriiy  in  arts,  indisputable  reputation  in 
sciences,  an  amiable  toleration  in  religion,  se- 
severity  blended  with  sweetness,  sweetness 
tempered  with  severity. 

Does  this  nation  pass  the  bounds  ?  At  first 
it  acquires  advantages  more  than  nature  and 
art  had  given  it.  The  boindless  ambition  of 
the  monarch  inspires  the  subject  with  a  noble 
pride.  Authority,  established  by  despotical 
power,  enslaves  the  j  udgments  ot  all  to  the 
will  of  one.  A  trcucherous  policy  at  first  im- 
poses on  neighbouring  states.  Troops,  impelled 
by  a  rash  valour,  at  first  surmount  all  obsta- 
cles. Toleration  is  banished,  the  prince  takes 
Lhe  place  of  God  himself,  and  exercises  his 
prerogative  Violatmg  the  faith  of  edicts, 
procures  some  present  advantages.  An  insa- 
tiable avidity  adds  fortress  to  for(ress,  city  to 
city,  province  to  province,  kingdom  to  king- 
dom. But  where  is  divine  Providence? 
Where  is  the  truth  of  our  text,  '  righteousness 
exalteth  a  nation?'  What  pitch  of  grandeur 
can  religion  obtain  for  a  people,  which  cannot 
be  obtained  by  other  means  ? 

Stop.  The  objection  made  to  our  doctrine 
demonstrates  the  truth  ol  it.  The  ambition 
of  the  monaich,  communicated  to  his  suljects, 
will  there  produce  all  the  fatal  efl!tcts  of  am- 
bition. Despotical  power,  which  enslaved  the 
ju  Igments  of  all  to  the  absolute  will  of  one, 
will  cause  the  judgments  of  all  to  resist  the 
will  of  one.  That  deceitful  policy,  which  took 
neighbo'ring  states  by  surprise,  will  insnire 
them  with  istrust  and  precaution,  Troops 
hurried  on  by  rashness  will  find  out  that  rashnes 
is  the  highroad  to  defeat.  Toleration  dis;illow- 
ed  will  affect  the  hearts  of  faithful  subjects, 
and  industry  will  flee  to  foreign  climes.  The 
violation  of  edicts  will  destroy  confiilence  in 
all  the  public  instruments  of  government.  An 
uisat  able  avidity  of  territorial  acquisitions, 
of  possessing  forts,  cities,  provinces,  and  king- 
doms without  number,  will  require  more  at- 
tention, and  greater  expense  than  any  nation 
can  furnish.  A  state  in  th  s  condition,  will 
sink  under  the  weight  of  its  own  grandeur,  it 
will  be  attenuated  by  being  expanded  ;  and, 
:fl  may  use  such  an  expression,  impoverished 
by  its  abundance.  Each  passion  put  in  mo- 
•  on  will  give  a  shock  peculiar  to  itself,  and 
all  together  will  unite  in  one  general  blow. 


*  Luc  an.  Pharsal.  lit.  i. 

t  This  eerraon  was  preached  in  1706. 


418 


THE  HARMONY  OF 


[Ser.  XLVII. 


fatal  to  the  edifice  which  they  had  erected- 
A  prince  by  bfcotning  an  object  of  the  admi- 
ration of  the  world,  becomes  at  the  same  time 
an  object  of  jealousy,  suspicion  and  terror. 
Hence  some  civil  commotions  and  foreij^n  wars. 
Hence  the  forming  of  leag^ues  and  deep  con- 
certed plots.  Hence  mortality,  aoarcity,  and 
famine.  Hence  heaven  ai  d  earth  in  concert 
against  a  state  that  seemed  to  defy  both  earth 
and  heaven,  Hence  an  eternal  exa^nple  to 
justify  Providence  in  all  future  ages,  and  to 
(temonstrat(>  to  the  mo=t  obstinate  the  doctrine 
of  the  text,  that  only  rectitude  can  procure 
substantial  glory. 

Thus  we  think, we  have  sufficiently  establish- 
ed our  prophet's  proposition  ;  and  we  will  fin- 
ish the  arguments  by  which  we  have  sup)iorted 
it,  by  giving  you  the  character  of  that  author 
■who  has  taken  the  greatest  pains  to  subvert  it.* 
He  was  one  of  those  inconsistent  men.  whom 
the  finest  genius  cannot  preserve  from  self- 
contradiction,and  whose  oppo^^ite  qualities  will 
always  leave  us  in  doubt  whether  to  place 
them  in  one  extreme,  or  m  another  diametri- 
cally opposite.  On  the  one  hand,  he  was  a 
great  philosopher,  and  knew  how  to  distinguish 
truth  from  falsehood,  for  he  could  see  at  once 
fi  connexion  of  princM.les,  and  a  train  of  con- 
sequences: on  the  other  hand,  he  was  a  grrat 
Eophister,  always  endeavouring  to  confound 
trutli  with  falsehood,  to  wrest  principles,  and 
to  force  consequerics.  In  one  vit  w  admira- 
bly learned  and  of  fine  parts,  having  profited 
much  by  the  labours  of  others,  and  more  by 
the  exercise  of  his  own  great  sense  :  in  another 
view,  ignorant,  or  aflfecting  to  be  ignorant  of 
the  most  common  things,  advancing  argu- 
ments which  had  been  a  thousand  tim^s  refu- 
ted, and  starting  objections  which  the  greatest 
novice  in  the  schools  durst  not  have  mention- 
ed without  blushing.  On  the  one  hand,  at 
tacking  the  greatest  men,  opening  a  wide  field 
for  them  to  labour  in,  leading  them  into  devi- 
ous and  rugged  paths,  and,  if  not  going  beyond 
them,  giving  them  a  world  of  rains  to  keep 
pace  with  him  :  on  the  other  hand,  quoting 
the  meanest  geniuses,  ofTerini;-  a  profusion  of 
incense  to  them,  blotting  his  writings  with 
names  that  had  never  been  pronounced  bv 
learned  lips.  On  the  one  hand,  free,  at  least 
in  appearance,  from  every  disposition  contrary 
to  the  spirit  of  the  gospel,  chaste  in  his  man- 
ners, grave  in  his  cunversation,  temperate  in 
his  diet,  and  austere  in  his  usual  course  of 
life  ;  on  the  other,  employing  all  the  acuteness 
of  his  genuis  to  oppose  good  morals,  and  to 
attack  chastity,  modesty,  and  all  other  Chris- 
tian virtues.  Sometimes  appealing  to  a  tribu- 
nal of  the  most  rigid  orthodoxy,  deriving  ar- 
guments from  the  purest  sources,  and  quoting 
divines  of  the  most  unsuspected  souni'ness  in 
the  faith :  at  other  times,  travelling  in  the 
high  road  of  heretics,  reviving  the  objections 
of  ancient  heresiarchs,  forging  them  new  ar- 
mour, and  uniting  in  one  body  the  em. is  of 
past  ages  with  those  of  the  present  time.  O  th.t 
this  man,  who  was  endowed  with  so  many  tal- 
ent3,may  have  been  forgiven  by  Cod  for  the  bad 


*  Mr.  Bayle. 


use  he  made  of  them  !  May  that  Jesus  whom, 
•le  so  often  attacked,  have  expiated  his  crimes  '. 
But,  though  charity  constrains  us  to  hope  and 
wish  for  hi?  salvation,  the  honour  of  our  holy 
religion  obliges  us  publicly  to  declare  that  he 
abused  l;is  own  understanding  ;  to  protest,  be- 
ibre  heaven  and  earth,  that  we  disown  him  as 
a  member  of  our  reformed  churches,  and  that 
wr;  shall  always  consider  a  part  of  his  writings 
A"  a  scandal  to  good  men,  and  as  a  pest  of 
the  church. 

We  return  to  our  prophet.  Let  us  employ 
a  few  moments  ni  reflecting  on  the  truths  we 
have  heard.  Thanks  be  to  God,  my  brethren, 
we  have  better  means  of  knowing  the  '  righ- 
teousness that  exalts  a  nation,  and  more  mo- 
tives to  practise  it,  than  all  the  nations  of 
whose  glory  we  have  been  hearing.  They 
had  only  a  superficial,  debased,  confused  know- 
ledge of  the  virtues  which  constitute  substan- 
tial grandeur ;  and,  as  they  held  errors  in  re- 
ligion, they  must  necessarily  have  erred  in  ci- 
vil polity.  God,  glory  be  to  his  name  !  has 
placed  at  the  h'  ad  of  our  councils  the  mo^t 
perfect  legislator  that  ever  held  the  reins  of 
i  government  in  the  world.  This  Legislator  is 
!  Jesu  Christ.  His  kingdom,  indeed,  is  not  of 
this  world ;  but  the  rules  he  has  given  us  to 
!  arrive  at  that,  are  proper  to  render  us  happy 
in  the  present  state.  When  he  says, '  seek  ye 
first  the  kmgdom  of  God,  and  his  righteous- 
ness, and  al]  other  things  shall  be  added  to  you,' 
Matt.  vi.  33,  he  gives  the  command,  and 
makes  the  promise  to  whole  nations,  as  well 
as  to  individuals. 

Who  ever  carried  so  far  as  this  divine  le- 
gislator ideas  of  the  virtues  of  which  we  have 
been  treating  in  several  parts  of  this  discourse, 
and  by  practising  which  '  nations  are  exalted.' 
Whoever  formed  such  just  notions  of  that  be- 
nevolence, that  love  of  social  good,  that  gene- 
rosity to  enemies,  that  contempt  of  life,  that 
wisd'im,  that  veneration  for  noble  exploits, 
that  docdity  and  frugality,  that  devotedness  to 
public  use,  that  distance  from  false  >.;lory,that 
magnanimity,  and  all  the  other  virtues  which 
render  antiquity  venerable  to  us.'  Who  ever 
gave  such  wise  instruction  to  kings  and  sub- 
jects, magistrates  and  people,  lawyers  and 
merchants,  soldiers  and  statesmen,  the  world 
and  the  church.''  We  know  these  virtues  bet- 
ter than  any  other  people  in  the  world.  We 
are  able  to  carry  our  glory  far  beyond  Egypt- 
ians and  Persians,  Assyrians  and  Medes,  Lace- 
daemonians, Athenians,  and  Romans;  it  not 
that  sort  of  glory  which  glares  and  dazzles,  at 
least  that  which  makes  tranquil  and  happy, 
and  procures  a  felicity  (ar  more  agreeable  than 
all  the  pageantry  of  heroism  and  worldly  splen- 
dour. 

Christians,  let  not  these  be  mere  specula- 
tions to  us.  Let  us  endeavour  to  reduce  them 
to  practice.  Never  let  us  suffer  our  political 
prin.  pies  to  clash  with  the  principles  of  our 
religion.  Far  from  us,  and  far  from  us  for 
ever  be  the  at  ominable  maxims  of  that  perni- 
cious Florei'tine,*  who  gave  statesmen  such 
fatal  lessons  as  these  I     A  prince  who  would 

*  Machiavel.  Princp.  xv.  xvj,  xvii. 


Ser.  XL  VII.] 


RELIGION  AND  CIVIL  POLITY. 


319 


maintain  his  dignity,  ought  to  learn  not  to  be 
virtuous,  when  affairs  of  stale  require  him  to 
practise  vice  :  he  ought  to  be  frugal  with  his 
own  private  fortune,  and  liberal  with  public 
money;  he  ought  never  to  keep  his  word  to 
his  own  disailvantaj;e  ;  he  ought  not  so  much 
to  aspire  at  virtue  as  at  the  semblance  of  it; 
he  ought  to  be  apparently  merciful,  laithful, 
sincere,  and  religious,  but  really  the  direct  op- 
posite ;  that  he  cannot  possibly  practise  what 
are  accounted  virtues  in  other  men,  because 
necessity  of  state  will  often  oblige  him  to  act 
contrary  to  charity,  humanity,  and  religion  ; 
he  ought  to  yield  to  the  v  arious  changes  of  Ibr- 
tune,  to  do  right  as  often  as  he  can,  but  not  to 
scruple  doing  wrong  when  need  requires.  I 
say  again  far  from  us  be  these  abominable 
maxims!  Let  us  obey  the  precepts  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  by  so  doing  let  us  draw  down 
blessings  on  this  nation  more  pure  and  perfect 
than  those  which  we  now  enjoy. 

The  blessings  we  now  enjoy,  and  which 
Providence  bestowed  on  us  so  abundantly  a 
few  days  ago,*  should  inspire  us  with  lasting 
gratitude ;  however,  my  brethren,  they  are 
not,  they  ought  not,  to  be  the  full  accomplish- 
ment of  our  wishes.  Such  laurels  as  we  as- 
pire at  are  not  gathered  in  fields  of  battle. 
The  path  to  that  eminence  to  which  we  tra- 
vel, is  not  covered  with  human  gore.  The  ac- 
clamations we  love  are  not  excited  by  wars 
and  rumours  of  wars,  the  clangour  of  arms, 
and  the  shouting  of  armed  men. 

Were  our  pleasure,  though  not  of  the  pur- 
est sort,  perfect  in  its  own  kind,  we  should  ex- 
perience a  rise  in  happiness!  But  can  we  en- 
joy our  victories  without  mourning  for  the 
miseries  which  procured  them !  Our  triumphs 
indeed  abase  and  confound  our  enemies,  and 
make  them  lick  the  dust;  yet  these  very  tri- 
umphs present  one  dark  side  to  us.  Witness 
the  many  wounds  which  I  should  make  a  point 
of  not  opening,  were  it  not  a  relief  to  mourners 
to  hear  of  their  suffering?,  were  it  not  equita- 
ble to  declare  to  tliose  whose  sorrows  have 
procured  our  joy,  that  we  remember  them, 
that  we  are  concerned  for  them,  that  we  sym- 
pathize with  them,  tliat  we  are  not  so  taken 
up  with  public  joy  as  to  forget  private  wo. 
VV^itness,  I  say,  so  many  desolate  houses  among 
us.  Witness  this  mourning  in  which  so  many 
of  us  appear  to-day.  Witness  these  affection 
ate  Jose  /hs,  who  lament  the  death  of  their 
parents.  Witness  these  Marys  and  Matt'ias 
weeping  at  the  tomb  of  Lazarus.  Witness 
these  distressed  Davids,  who  weep  as  they  go, 
and  exclaim,  'O  Absalom  my  son!  my  son 
Absalom  !  would  God  I  had  died  for  thee !  O 
Absalom  my  son,  my  son  !'  2  Sam.  xvui.  33. 
Witness  these  Rachels,  who  make  Rama  echo 
with  their  cries,  '  resusing  to  e  comforted, 
because  their  children  art  not,'  Jer   Xixi.  15. 

My  dear  brethren,  on  whom  the  hand  of 
God  is  heavy,  ye  sorrowful  Naomis,  ye  me- 
lancholy Maras,  with  whom  the  Almighty  has 
dealt  very  bitterly,  Ruth  i.  20,  we  share  your 
griefs,  we  mix  our  tears  with  yours,  we  feel 
all  the  blows  that  strike  you.    O  fatal  victory  ! 


At  tlie  battle  of  Ramilies,  May  23, 170G 


O  bloody  glory  !   you  are  not  fruits  of  right- 
eousness. 

Christians,  if  our  joy  be  mixed,  it  is  be- 
cause our  righteousness  is  mixed.  Let  us  not 
search  for  our  misfortunes  in  any  other  cause. 
Let  us  do,  when  any  thing  is  wanting  to  com- 
plete our  joy,  what  the  ancient  people  of  God 
did,  whenever  they  were  conquered.  The 
congregation  was  assembled,  the  ephod  was 
put  on,  the  oracle  was  consulted,  inquisition 
was  made  from  tribe  to  tribe,  from  family  to 
family,  from  house  to  house,  from  person  to 
person,  who  it  was,  whose  sin  had  caused  the 
loss  of  the  victory,  or  the  loss  of  a  regiment ; 
and  when  he  was  discovered,  he  was  put  to 
death.  Joshua,  after  he  nad  met  with  a  re- 
pulse before  Ai,  and  had  lost  thirty-six  men, 
rent  his  garments,  and  lay  on  his  face  upon 
the  ea  th,  before  the  ark  of  the  Lord.  In  like 
manner,  let  us,  my  brethren,  at  the  remem- 
brance of  infected  countries,  fields  of  battle 
covered  with  carcasses,  rivers  of  blood  dying 
the  soil,  confused  heaps  of  dead  and  dying  fel- 
low-creatures, new  globes  of  fire  flying  in  the 
air,  let  us  examine  ourselves.  Happy  if,  as  in 
the  case  jusl  now  mentioned,  only  one  crimi- 
nal could  be  found  an  ong  many  thousands  of 
innocent  persons  !  Alas  !  we  are  obliged,  on 
the  contrary,  to  lament,  that  there  is  hardly 
one  innocent  among  thousands  of  the  guilty. 

Where  is  the  Achan  who  imbitters  the  glo- 
rious and  immortal  victories  which  God  grants 
to  Israel  ?  What  tribe,  what  family,  what 
house  shall  be  taken  ?  Is  it  the  magistrate  ? 
Is  it  the  people  ?  Is  it  the  pastor  .''  Is  it  the 
flock  .''  Is  it  the  merchant  ?  Is  it  the  soldier  ? 
Ah  !  my  brethren  !  do  you  not  hear  the  oracle 
of  the  Lord  answering  from  the  terrible  tribu- 
nal erected  in  your  own  consciences .''  It  is  the 
magistrate  ;  it  is  the  people  ;  it  is  the  pastor  ; 
it  is  the  flock  ;  it  is  the  merchant ;  it  is  tlie 
soldier. 

It  is  that  magistrate,  who,  being  required 
to  have  always  before  his  eyes  that  God  by 
whom  kings  reign,  and  that  throne  before 
which  the  greatest  monarchs  of  the  world  must 
be  judged,  is  dazzled  with  his  own  grandeur, 
governed  by  a  worldly  policy,  and  has  more 
at  heart  to  enforce  the  observation  of  his  own 
capricious  orders  than  those  rules  of  eternal 
rectitude  which  secure  the  safety  and  happi- 
ness of  a  nation. 

It  is  that  people  who,  instead  of  considenn"^ 
the  felicity  of  '  that  nation  whose  God  is  the 
Lord,'  are  attempting  to  be  happy  indepen- 
dently of  God  ;  choosing  rather  to  sacrifice  to 
blind  chance  than  to  him,  who  is  the  happy 
Gud,  and  who  alone  dispenses  prosperous  and 
adverse  circumstances. 

It  is  that  minister  who,  instead  of  confining 
his  attention  to  the  discharge  of  all  the  duties 
of  his  office,  performs  only  such  parts  as  ac- 
quire him  a  popular  reputation,  negl^-cting 
private  duties,  such  as  friendly  and  aflection- 
ate  remonstrances,  paternal  advice,  private 
charities,  secret  visits,  which  characterize  the 
true  ministei?  of  the  gospel. 

It  is  that  coi}gr(^ulion  whicli.  instead  of  re- 
garding the  word  dispensed  by  us  as  the  word 
of  God,  licentiously  turns  all  pullic  mini«tra- 


320 


THE  LIVES  OF  COURTIERS. 


[Ser.   XLVIII. 


tions  into  ridicule,  and  under  pretence  of  in- 
genuity and  freedom  of  thought,  encourages 
infidelity  and  irreligion  ;  or,  at  bet,  imagines 
that  religion  consists  more  in  hearing  and 
knowing  than  in  practice  and  obelience. 

It  is  that  soldier  who,  thou^'h  he  is  always 
at  war  with  death,  Jiiarcliingthrou.  h  fires  and 
flumes,  hearing  nothing  but  the  sound  of  war- 
like instruments  crying  to  liim  with  a  loud 
voice.  Remember  you  must  die,  ye\  frames  a 
morality  of  his  own,  and  imagines  that  his 
profession,  so  proper  in  itself  to  incline  him  to 
obey  the  maxims  of  the  gospel,  serves  to  free 
him  from  all  obligation  to  obedience. 

Ah  !  this  it  is,  which  obscures  our  brightest 


triumphs ;  this  stains  our  laurels  with  blood  ; 
this  excites  lamentations,  and  mixes  them  with 
our  songs  of  praise.  Let  us  scatt<  r  these  dark 
clouds.  Let  us  purify  our  righteousness  in 
order  to  purify  our  happiness.  Let  leligion 
be  the  bndle,  the  r  le,  the  soul  of  all  our 
i  councils,  and  so  may  it  procure  us  unalterable 
peace,  -ind  unmixed  j)!  asure  !  or  rather,  as 
there  is  no  such  pleasure  on  earth,  as  imper- 
fection IS  a  character  essential  to  human  af- 
fairs, let  us  elevate  our  hearts  and  minds  to 
nobler  oljects,  let  us  sigh  after  happier  pe- 
riods, aiid  let  each  of  us  seek  true  glory  in  the 
enjoyment  of  God.  God  grant  us  this  grace  ! 
To  him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever,    Ameno 


SERMON   XL.VIII. 


THE  LIVES  OF  COURTIERS. 


2  Samuel  xix.  32 — 39. 

liarzdlai  was  a  very  aged  man,  even  fourscore  years  old,  and  he  had  provided  the  king  of 
sustenance  while  he  lay  at  Mahanaim  ;  for  he  teas  a  very  great  man.  £nd  the  king  said 
^mto  Barzillai,  come  thou  over  with  me,  and  I  will  fed  thee  with  me  in  Jerusalem.  And 
Barzillai  said  unto  the  king,  hoic  long  have  1  to  live,  that  I  should  go  up  with  the  kim 
unto  Jerusalem  ?  I  am  this  day  fourscore  years  old;  and  can  I  discern  beticeen  goo 


■my  father  and  of  my  mother  ;  but  behold  thy  servant  Chimham,  let  him  go  over  with  my 
lord  the  king,  and  do  to  him  what  shall  seem  good  unto  thee.  Jind  the  king  answered, 
Chimham  shall  go  over  with  me,  and  I  loill  do  to  him  that  which  shall  seem  good  unto 
thee  ;  and  whatsoever  thou  shalt  require  of  me  that  will  J  do  for  thee.  And  all  the  people 
went  over  Jordan  ;  and  when  the  king  was  come  over,  the  king  kissed  Barzillai,  and 


blessed  him;  and  he  returned  unto  his  own  place. 


^iiVE  propose  to  examine  to-dav,  my  breth- 
ren, how  far  business,  the  worki,  a  court,  are 
tit  for  a  young  man,  and  how  far  they  agree 
with  a  man  in  the  decline  of  life.  It  is  a  pre- 
judice too  common  in  the  world,  that  there 
are  two  ways  to  heaven,  one  way  for  young 
men,  and  another  way  for  men  in  years 
Youth  is  considered  as  a  sort  of  title  to  licen- 
tiousness, and  the  most  criminal  pleasures. 
Virtue  is  usually  regarded  as  proper  for  those 
who  cannot  practise  vice  with  a  xood  grace. 
God  forbid  such  a  peinicious  maxim  should  be 
countenanced  in  this  pulpit !  Let  us  not  de- 
ceive ourselves,  my  brethren,  the  precepts  of 
the  moral  law  are  eternal,  and  fitted  to  all  ages 
of  life.  At  fifteen,  at  twenty,  at  thirty,  at 
forty,  at  fourscore  years  of  age,  what  the  apos- 
tle affirms  is  true,  '  they  that  do  such  things 
shall  not  inherit  the  langdom  of  God,'  Gal. 
V.  21.  These  things  are  '  adultery,  fornica- 
tion, uncleanness,  lasciviousness,  idolatry, 
witchcraft,  hatred,  variance,  emulations, 
wrath,  strife,  seditions,  heresies,  envyings, 
murders,  drunkenness,^  revelhngs,  and  such 


like.'  There  is  no  dispensation  in  these  cases 
on  account  of  ag  -  At  any  age  'they  that  do 
such  things,  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of 
God.' 

It  is  however,  clear,  that  circumstances 
sometimes  change  the  nature  of  moral  actions  ; 
that  an  action  is  innocent,  when  done  in  some 
circumstances,  which  ceases  to  be  so  when  it 
is  done  in  different  circumstances ;  and,  to 
come  to  the  design  mentioned  at  the  begin- 
ning of  this  discourse,  it  is  clear,  that  business, 
the  world,  a  court,  to  a  certain  dep^ree.  suit  a 
young  man,  and  thut  they  are  unfit  for  a  man 
in  the  decline  of  life. 

Each  part  of  this  proposition,  my  brethren,  is 
contained  in  the  text,  as  we  are  going  to  show 
3'ou.  Barzillai,  by  committing  his  son  to  king 
David,  and  by  allowing  Chimham  to  avail 
him^^elf  of  the  favour  of  his  his  prince,  teaches 
us  how  far  business,  the  world,  and  a  court, 
become  a  young  man.  Barzillai,  by  wi-hing 
only  to  retreat  into  retirement  and  silence 
himself,  teaches  us  how  far  a  court,  the  world, 
and  business,  become  an  old  man ;  or  rather   | 


am.  XLVm.J 


THE  LIVES  OF  COURTIERS. 


421 


he  teaches  us,  that  they  do  not  become  him 
at  all,  arid  that  there  is  a  certain  time  of  Ufa 
when  the  wise  man  takes  leave  of  the  world. 
1.  We  suppose  Barzillai  was  a  good  man, 
and  that  his  example  sufficiently  proves  it. 
Indeed  this  man  is  very  little  known.  I  re- 
collect only  three  places  in  Scripture  where- 
he  is  spoken  of.  The  first  is  in  the  seventeenth 
chapter  of  the  second  book  of  Samuel.  There 
we  are  told,  that  Barzillai  'was  of  the  tribe  of 
Gilead,  of  the  city  of  Ro^elim,' ver.  27,  and 
that  he  whs  one  of  those  who  brought  refresh- 
ment's to  David  and  his  court,  when  he  fled 
from  his  barbarous  son.  This  passage  telh  us 
how  he  became  so  dear  to  David.  The  se- 
cond is  our  text.  The  third  is  in  the  first  book 
of  Kings,  where  David  gives  this  commission 
to  his  son  Solomon.  '  Show  kindness  unto  the 
sons  of  Barzillai  the  Gileadite,  and  let  them 
be  of  those  that  eat  at  thy  table ;  for  so  they 
canie  to  me  when  I  fled  because  of  Absalom 
thy  brother,'  chap.  ii.  7.  This  passage  gives 
us  reason  to  conjecture,  or  rather  it  proves, 
that  Chimham  was  the  son  of  Barzillai ;  for 
the  commission  given  by  David,  when  he  was 
'iy'fi?!  to  Solomon,  certainly  refers  to  these 
word*  of  our  text,  '  Behold  thy  servant  Chim- 
ham, let  him  go  over  with  my  lord  the  king, 
and  do  to  him  what  shall  seem  good  unto  thee.' 
Thus,  all  we  know  of  Barzillai  contributes  to 
persuade  us  that  he  was  a  good  man  ;  that 
his  example  sufficiently  proves  it;  that  as  he 
consented  that  his  son  should  go  into  the 
world,  and  even  into  the  most  pom- 
pous and  dangerous  part  of  it,  he  thought 
it  might  be  innocently  done.  A  good  father 
would  not  have  consented  that  his  son  should 
enter  on  a  course  of  life  criminal  in  itself. 
If  we  have  deceived  ourselves  in  our  notion 
of  Barzillai,  it  will  not  affect  the  nature  of 
our  reflections.  Our  question  is  tliis.  How  far 
does  the  world,  a  court,  or  businpss,  become  a 
young  man  .'  We  shall  elucidate  this  quest  on 
by  the  following  considerations:  1.  A  wise 
man  will  never  choose  a  court,  or  high  offices, 
as  most  and  best  fitted  to  procure  true  jietce. 
He  must  be  a  novice  in  the  world  indeed  who 
does  notjknow  the  solidity  of  this  maxim.  He 
must  have  reflected  very  little  on  the  turbu- 
lent condition  of  courtiers,  and  of  all  such  as 
are  elevated  to  any  superior  rank  in  the  world. 
He  must  have  paid  very  little  attention  to  the 
snares  which  are  every  where  set  to  disturb 
their  tranquillity  ;  to  the  envies  and  jealousies 
which  are  excited  against  them  ;  to  the  plots 
which  are  formed  against  their  happiness ; 
to  the  reverses  of  fortune  to  which  they  are 
exposed ;  to  the  treachery  of  such  friends  as 
surround  them,  and  to  the  endless  vicissitudes 
which  they  experience.  In  general,  a  man 
must  be  indifferent  to  peace,  at  least  he  must 
know  but  little  in  what  it  consists,'to  seek  it  in 
pomp  and  worldly  grandeur.  I  forgive  a 
young  man  of  fifteen  or  twenty  for  making 
such  a  mistake.  At  that  time  of  life,  young 
men  deserve  pity;  their  eyes  are  too  childish 
not  to  be  dazzled  by  a  faUe  glare  ;  they  have 
not  then  learnt  to  know  appe:i ranees  from 
realities  by  their  own  experience,  or  by  the 
experience  of  others.    They  do  not  know  that 

3  II 


h;ippiness  consists  in  a  private  condition,  a  mo- 
derate revenue,  a  few  tried,  friends,  a  chosen 
circle,  a  few  relations,  business  enough  to  pre- 
serve vigour  of  mind  without  fatiguing  it,  a 
wisely  diricted  solitude,  moderate  studies,  in  a 
word,  in  a  happy  mediocrity.  IVly  brethren, 
independence  is  the  blessing  which  deserves  to 
be  first  of  all  chosen  by  us,  should  God  leave 
to  our  choice  the  kind  of  life  which  we  ought 
to  follow  ;  or  if  he  did  not  frequently  intend 
by  placing  us  on  earth  more  to  exercise  our 
patience  than  to  consummate  our  felicity.  O 
delicious  independence,  O  inestimable  medi- 
ocrity !  I  prefer  you  before  the  most  glorious 
sceptre,  the  tifst  established  throne,  the  most 
brilliant  crown  !  What  are  those  eminent 
posts  of  which  the  greatest  part  of  mankind  are 
so  fond.''  They  are  golden  chains,  splendid 
punishments,  brilliant  prisons  and  dungeons. 
Happy  he,  who,  having  received  from  Provi- 
dence blessinjrs  sufficient  for  his  rank,  easy 
with  his  fortune,  far  from  courts  and  gran- 
deurs, waits  with  tranquillity  for  deatli ;  and 
while  he  enjoys  the  innocent  pleasures  of  life, 
knows  how  to  make  eternity  his  grand  study, 
and  his  principal  occupation. 

2.  A  wise  man  will  always  consider  a  court, 
and  eminent  posts,  as  dangerous  to  his  salva- 
tion. It  is  in  a  court,  it  is  in  eminent  posts, 
that,  generally  speaking,  the  most  dangerous 
snares  are  set  for  coriscience.  Here  it  is  that 
men  usually  abandon  themselves  to  their  pas- 
sions, be(;ause  here  it  is  that  they  are  gratified 
with  the  utmost  ease.  Here  it  is  that  man  is 
tempted  to  consider  himself  as  a  being  of  a  par- 
ticular kind,  and  ir  finit'^ly  superior  to  those 
who  crawl  among  the  vulgar.  It  is  here 
where  each  learns  to  play  the  tyrant  in  his 
turn,  and  where  the  courtier  indemnifies  him- 
self for  the  slavish  mortification?  to  which  his 
prince  retuces  him,  by  enslaving  all  his  depen- 
dants. Here  it  is  that  secret  intrigues,  under- 
hand practices,  bloody  designs,  dark  and  cri- 
minal plots  are  formed,  of  which  innocence  is 
usually  the  victim.  Here  it  is  that  the  most 
pernicious  maxims  are  in  the  greatest  credit, 
and  the  most  scandalous  examples  in  the  high- 
est reputation.  Were  it  is  that  every  disposi- 
tion of  mind  changes,  if  not  its  nature,at  least  its 
appearance,  by  the  false  colouring  with  which 
all  are  disguised.  Here  it  is  that  every  one 
breathes  the  venom  of  flattery,  and  that  every 
one  loves  to  receive  it.  Here  imagination 
prostrates  itself  before  frivolous  deities,  and 
unworthy  idols  receive  such  supreme  homage 
as  is  due  to  none  but  the  sovereign  God. 
Here  it  is  that  the  soul  is  affected  with  xa.my 
a  seducing  image,  the  troublesome  remem- 
brance of  wh.ch  often  wholly  engrosses  the 
mind,  especially  when  we  wish  to  nourish  it 
with  such  meditation*  as  are  suited  to  immor- 
tal intelligences.  Here  a  confused  noise,  an  in- 
fallible consequence  of  living  in  the  tumult  of 
the  world,  gets  possession  of  the  mind,  and 
renders  it  extremely  difficult  to  relish  that  si- 
lent retirement,  that  abstraction  of  thought, 
which  are  absolutely  necessary  to  self-exami- 
nation, and  to  the  study  of  our  own  hearts. 
Here  it  is  that  men  are  carried  away  in  spite 
of  themselves  by  a  torrent  of  vicious  exam- 


422 


THE  LIVES  OP  COURTIERS. 


[Ser.  XLVIII. 


pie?,  M'liich.  being;  thought,  and  called  by  ere- 
vy  body  about  them  illustrious,  aulliorize  the 
most  criminal  actions,  and  insensibly  destroy 
that  tenderness  of  conscience  and  dread  of  sin 
which  are  very  powerful  motives  to  keep  us 
in  the  practice  of  virtue.  These  g;eneral  mix- 
ims  admit  of  some  exception  in  rpg-ard  to 
Chimham.  He  saw,  in  the  person  of  his  king, 
(he  virtues  of  a  pastor,  and  the  excellence  of 
a  prophet.  David's  court  was  an  advantage- 
ous scliool  fur  him  on  many  accounts;  but 
yet  was  it  altogether  fxemjit  from  all  the 
dangers  we  have  mentioned?  O  Chimham, 
Chimliam,!  will  not  detain  thee  in  the  port, 
when  Providence  calls  thee  to  set  sail !  But 
that  sea  with  the  dangers  of  whicli  thou  art 
going  lo  engage,  has  many,  many  rocks,  and 
among  them,  alas  !  there  have  been  innumer- 
able shipwrecks. 

3.  A  wise  man  will  never  enter  a  court,  or 
accept  of  an  eminent  post,  without  fixed  re- 
solutions to  surmount  the  temptations  with 
■which  they  are  accompanied,  and  without 
Using  proper  measures  to  succeed  in  his  design. 
Far  from  us  for  ever  be.  my  brethren,  that  dis- 
position of  mind,  which,  by  fixing  the  eye 
upon  the  prince,  makes  us  lose  sight  of  him, 
'by  whom  kings  reign,  and  princes  decree  jus- 
lice!'  Prov.  viii.  15.  Far  from  us  be  such 
an  avidity  to  make  our  fortunes  as  to  engage 
us  to  forget  that  we  have  souls  to  save,  and 
an  eternal  interest  to  pursue!  Far  from  us  be 
that  desire  of  elevating  ourselves  in  this 
world,  wliich  debases  the  dignity  of  our  na- 
ture, and  inclines  us  to  practices  unworthy  of 
men  whom  the  God  of  heaven  and  earth  has 
called  into  his  family  .'  Those  holy  men  who 
are  proposed  to  us  for  examples,  liave  been 
fometimc?  at  court;  and  they  have  sometimes 
filled  the  highest  offices  of  stale,  Lut  tlipy  have 
always  made  it  an  inviolable  hiw  to  set  before 
their  eyes  that  God,  in  the  presence  of  whom 
'all  nations  area  drop  of  a  bucket,  and  as 
the  small  dust  of  the  balance,"  Isa.  xl.  15. 
Moses  wai  at  court ;  but  it  was  with  that  he- 
voical  firmness,  with  that  noble  pride,  with 
that  magnanimity,  which  Vjeeame  him  whom 
the  Lord  of  hosts  had  chosen  for  his  mesi^enger, 
and  placed  at  the  head  of  his  [leople,  Moses 
Was  at  court ;  but  it  was  to  say  to  Pharaoh, 
'  Let  my  people  gotl^at  they  may  serve  me. 
Let  my  people  go.  And  if  thou  refuse  to 
let  them  go,  behold,  I  will  miite  all  thy  bor 
ders  with  frogs.  They  shall  come  into  thine 
house,  and  into  th>  bed-chainber,  and  upon 
thy  bed,  and  into  the  house  of  thy  s-  rvants. 
Let  mv  people  go,  or  tlie  hand  ol  the  Lord 
shall  be  upon  thy  cattle,^upon  thy  horses,  upon 
the  asses,  upon  the  camels,  upon  the  nxen,  and 
upon  the  sheep,  and  thvre  shall  be  a  very 
grievous  murrain,'  Exod.  vii.  16  ;  vin.  2  ;  and  ] 
ix.  3.  Nathan  was  at  court ;  I  ut  it  was  to  J 
say  to  David,  '  7'hou  art  the  man  ;  wherefore 
hast  thou  despised  the  commandment  of  the 
Lord  to  do  evil  in  his  sight .''  2  Sam  xii.  7. 
9.  Elijah  was  at  court  ;  but  it  was  t(.  resist 
Ahab,  who  said  lo  him,  'Art  thou  he  that 
troubbtti  Israel ."  No,  replied  he,  "I  have 
not  troubled  Israel,  I  ut  thou  and  thy  father's 
house,  in  that  ye  have  forsaken  the  command- 


ments of  the  Lord,  and  thou  hast  followed 
Baalim,'  1  Kings  xviii.  17,  18.  Micaiali 
WHS  at  court ;  but  it  was  to  resist  the  projects 
of  an  ambitious  prince,  and  to  say  to  him,  '  I 
SHW  all  Israel  scattered  upon  the  hills,  as  sheep 
that  have  not  a  shepherd,  chap.  xxii.  17.  Je- 
hu was  at  court ;  but  it  was  to  mortify  Joram, 
who  asked  him,  '  Is  it  peace  ."  '  What  peace,' 
replied  he,  •  What  peace,  so  long  as  the 
whoredoms  of  thy  mother  Jezebel,  and  her 
witchcrafts  are  so  many  .'*  2  Kings  ix.  22. 
John  the  Baptist  was  at  court;  but  he  went 
thither  to  tell  Herod,  '  It  is  not  lawful  for 
thee  to  have  thy  brother's  wife,'  Mark  vi. 
18. 

Some    of  these  holy  men  have  filled   the 
highest  posts,  and  discharged  the  most  impor- 
tant  offices  of  state ;  but  they  have  done  so 
with  that  integrity  of  mind,  and  with  that  pi- 
ety  and  fervour  of  heart,  which  would  seem 
incompatible  with  worldly  grandeur,  were  we 
not  informed,   that   to  the  pure  all  things  are 
pure,   and  that  God   knows  how  to  preserve 
the  piety  of  his  elect  amidst  the  greatest  dan- 
gers, when  Zeal  for  liis  glory  eingages  them  to 
expose  themselves  for  iiis  sake.     Samuel  dis- 
charged important  ofii<-es,  he  occupied  an  emi- 
nent post ;  but  he  could  render  a  faithful  ac- 
count of  his  administration,   and  ventured  to 
face  the  people  with  this  noble   appeal,  '  Be- 
hold here  I  am,  witness  against  me  before  the 
Lord,    and   before    his   anointed  ;    whose    ox 
have    I   taken  .''    or  whose  ass  have  I  taken  ? 
or  whom  have  1  delrauded.''  whom  have  I  op- 
pressed.^' 1  Sam.  xii.  3,  4     And  what  is  more 
than  all  this,  and  wh;it  we  wish  to  inculcate 
more   than  all   this,  is  what  he  subjoins,  '  of 
whose  hand  have  I  received  any  bribe  to  blind 
mine   eyes  therewith  .''    and    I  will  restore  it 
you.'     To  which  the  people  repliei.!,  ■  Thou 
hast   not  delrauded   us,  nor   oppressed  ns,  nei- 
ther hast  thou  taken  ought  of  any  man's  hand.' 
Neheniiah  was  elevated  to  high  offices,  he  was 
even   a  favourite  of  the  king  ;  but  he  availed 
himself  ol  his  elevation    to   procure   the   re- 
building of  Jerusalem,  and  the  restitution  of 
divine  worship  in  the  temple.    When  the  ido- 
latrous prince  put  this  question  to  him, '  Why 
is   thy  countenance  sad?    He  replied,  'Why 
should  not  my  countenance  be  sad,  when  tfce 
city,  the  place  ot  mv  fathers'  sepulchres,  lieth 
waste  and  the  gates  thereof  are  consumed  with 
fire?'  Nehem.  ii.  2,  3.   Daniel  filled  a  high  of- 
fice, even  in  an  idolatrous  court ;  but  there  he 
continued  his  humble  ditt;  he  would  not  hold 
his  office   at   the   expense  of  his  conscience; 
amidst  the  tumult  of  tlie  world  he  knew  how 
to  manage  his  afTairs  so  as  to  find  time  '  to  un- 
derstand by  books  the   numb"  r  ol  the  years' 
predicted    by  the  prophets,  to  attend  to  the 
condition  of  Jerusalem,  "to  make  supplication 
with    iastiiifc,   and  sackcloth,  and   ashes.'     Is 
therf  any  one  of  you,   my  l^retliren,  so  much 
master  of  himself  ?    Have  you  courage  enough 
til  resist  so  many  enemies?     Are  you  able  to 
withstand  so  many  temptations,  and  to  escape 
ad  these   dangers?     Go  then,  not  only  to  the 
courts  of  Davids,  but  to  those  of  the  mo.=t  pro- 
fligate princes.     '  Go  shine  as   lights   in   the 
midst  of  a  crooked  and  perverse  nation;'  go. 


Ser.  XLVUl, 


THE  LIVES  OP  COURTIERS. 


423 


be  the  *  salt  of  the  earth  ;'  rise,  not  only  to  the 
great  offices  of  state,  but  ascend  a  throne,  take 
the  government  and  reign. 

4.  The  evils  which  imbitter  the  lives  of 
courtiers,  and  of  all  who  are  elevated  to  emi- 
nent posts,  and  (what  may  seem  a  paradox) 
(he  hazard  of  being  damned  among  human 
grandeurs,  ouglit  not  to  discourage  those  from 
occupying  the  higiiest  olhces  who  are  capa  le 
ol  doniggreal  good  to  society  and  the  church. 

Tiie  first  part  of  this  proposition  is  indispu- 
table.     The  difficulties  wtiich    belong  to  the 
lives  of  courtiers,  and  of  all   persons  elevated 
to  eminent  posts,  ought  not  to  discourage  those 
who  are  able  to  benefit  society  and  the  church. 
It  is  ciear,  I  think,  to  all  who  know  the   first 
principles  of  Christianity,   that   the  des  gn  of 
Gou  m  placing  us  in  the  world,  was  not  to  en- 
able us  to  follow  that  kind  of  life  which  is 
the  moit   con  ormable    to    our    inclinations, 
though  such  a   kind  of  life  should    have  no- 
thing in  It  contrary  to  the  laws  of  God.     God 
intended  to  exercise  us  in  a  painful  state   of 
probation.     I  allow,  virtue  has  charms  of  its 
own,  and  often  brings  its    reward  along  with 
it  in  this  world  ;    but  also  it  often  requires  us 
to  mortify  our  dearest  passion.*,  and  our  strong- 
est iMclinatioi  s.       How   o  ten,   by  the  heavy 
afiiictions  in  which  piety  involves  us,   is  that 
celebrated  expression  of  an   apostle  verified, 
'  It   in  this  lile   only  we  have   hope  in  Christ, 
•we  are  of  all  men  most  miserable,'  1  Cor.  xv 
19.     A   good   man   wdl  consult,  when  he  is 
choosing  a  course  of  life  (and  you  will  have 
spent  this  hour  well,  my  brethren,  if  you  re- 
tain only  this  maxim,  a. id  reduce  it  to  prac- 
tice,) a  good  man,  when  he  is  choosing  a  course 
of  life,  will   consult  not  what  will  render  his 
family  most  illustrious,  not  what  will  be  most 
likely  to  transmit  his  naiiie  to  posterity,  not 
what  will  most  advance  his  fortune,  and  will 
best  gratify  h;3  own  inclinations,  but  what  will 
be  most  useful  to  society  and  religion.     Do 
not  say  ttie  pleasures  of  a  court  are  insipid, 
the  life  of  a  courtier  is  intolerable,  perpetual 
consultations  are  burdensome,  a  multitude  of 
business  is  tiresome;  ceremonies  disj;ust   me; 
splendid  titles  give  me  pain  ;  i  like  a  tranquil 
life,  1  prefer  obscur.ty  and  quiet,  I  love  lo  cul- 
tivate my  gardeii,  and  to  spend  much  of  my 
time  in  reading  ami  retirement.     Noble  effort 
of  devotion,  indeed  1  to  choose  temporal  tran- 
quillity as  the  chief  end  of   your  studies  and 
actionii !    And,  pray,  what  benefit  do  religion 
and  the  state  derive  from  your  reading  your 
books  and  cultivating  your  flowers.''   Wha* ! 
is  it  a  question  i/Ctween  God  and  you,  whether 
the  course  of  life  that  he  prescribes  to  you  be 
disagreeable,  whether  perpetual  consultations 
be   troublesome,  whether  much   business  (a 
tigue,  whether  ceremonies  disgust,  and  whe- 
ther titles  be  unsatisfying?    Is  this  the  dispute 
between  God  and  you.''  Is  the  question  what 
kind  of  life  you    prefer.'    Do   you  suppose,  n 
God  had  left  to  the  martyrs  the  choice  of  what 
course  they  would  have   taken  through  liie, 
they  would  have  chosen  that  to  which  Goi; 
called  them  ?   Would  they  have  preferred,  be- 
fore every  other  patli,  that  in  whicli  ihey  were 
'  stoned,   sawn  asunder,   templed,  slain   with 


the  sword ;'  would  they  have  '  wandered 
about  in  sheep-skins,  and  goat-skins,  destitute, 
afflicted,  and  tormented  ?''  Heb.  xi.  37.  You 
say,  you  shall  become  a  martyr,  if  you  exe- 
cute the  elevated  office  to  which  you  are 
called.  Very  well,  God  calls  you  to  this 
martyrdom.  The  first  part  of  our  propt.sitioii 
IS  indisputable.  The  disagreeables  in  the  lives 
of  courtiers,  and  of  all  other  persons  elevnted 
to  eminent  po?fs,  ouiht  not  to  deter  any  man 
from  accepting  an  office,  when  it  is  probable 
he  may,  by  discharging  it  well,  do  great  good 
to  society  in  general,  and  to  the  church  in  par- 
ticular. 

I  go  farther,  and  I  maintain  the  second  part 
of  the  proposition.  The  snares,  which  are 
thick  i^et  ii.  high  life,  and  which  endanger  our 
salvation,  ought  not  to  deter  us  from  nccepling 
high  offices,  when  we  can  do  good  to  society 
and  the  churcli  by  executing  them.  There 
is  some  difficulty  m  this  subject,  we  will  en- 
deavour to  explain  it.  Our  principal  coiicerii 
IS  to  be  saved.  Our  highest  engagement  is  to 
avoid  every  thing  that  would  endanger  our  sal- 
vation. Our  first  exercise  should  be  diffi- 
<leiice,  distrust  of  ourselves.  The  son  of  Si- 
rach  has  taught  us,  that  he,  '  who  loveth  dan- 
ger ^hall  perish  therein,'  Eccles.  iii.  26  What 
law,  then,  can  oblige  us  to  pursue  a  course  of 
life,  which  all  assure  us  is  almost  imijas=ableto 
m  n  who  woalJ  walk  in  the  way  of  salvation  ? 
Is  it  not  presumption,  is  it  not  tempting  God  to 
expose  one's  self  in  this  manner  ? 

1  reply,  it  is  presumption,  it  is  a  tempting 
of  God,  to  expose  one's  self  to  danger,  when 
no  good  will  come  of  it.  For  example,  you 
know  by  experience,  tliat  if  gaming  were  in- 
innocent  in  itself,  it  is,  however,  dangerous  to 
you  ;  that  always,  when  you  allow  yourself 
to  game,  you  receive  some  injury,  you  either 
play  with  an  avidity  of  gain  too  great,  or  you 
lose  all  patience  with  the  loss  of  your  money, 
or,  some  way  or  other,  your  mind  is  always 
disconcerted.  Leave  off  gaming  then.  What 
good  do  you  do  to  society  at  large,  or  to  the 
church  in  particular,  by  gaming?  Were  it 
probable,  that  in  future  you  should  always 
escape  unhurt,  even  a  probability  of  suffering 
is  enough  to  deter  you,  and  you  cannot  ex- 
pose yourself  without  a  presumptuous  tempt- 
ing of  God.  Again,  you  know,  by  sad  expe- 
rience, that  the  company  you  keep,  is  fatal  to 
you  ;  that  always,  when  you  are  in  it,  you 
violate  thf  laws  of  piety,  charity,  ami  modesty. 
Quit  this  company  then.  What  good  is  done 
to  the  state  and  the  church  by  your  frequent- 
ing this  company.  Were  it  probable  that  in 
future  you  should  receive  no  damage,  the  bare 
probability  that  you  might,  ought  to  induce 
you  to  avoid  it.  In  like  manner,  yon  are 
convinced,  that  your  opponent,  who  is,  as 
well  as  yourself,  a  caiuJiiiate  for  a  certain  oflice, 
•A. 11  execute  it  as  well  as  you  would.  The 
office  is  dangerous,  and  you  fear  you  have  not 
virtue  enough  to  execute  it  with  safety  to 
your  salvation.  Ileimunce  your  pretensions 
then.  Choose  a  way  of  life  less  dangerous. 
Let  us  go  a  step  farther.  It  is  rash,  it  is 
tempting  God  to  expose  ourselves  to  difficul- 
ties which  cannot  possibly  be  surmounted.     A 


424 


THE  LIVES  OF  COURTIERS. 


[Ser,.  XLVIII. 


pretence  of  doing  good  to  the  state   and  the  f 
church  will  not  alter  the  case.     A  court  is  j 
pf^stiferous.     A  king,  who  ought  to  maintain  { 
or  ler,  lives  only  to  subvert  it ;  he  consults  no  i 
law  but  his  passion?,  ami  his  will   is  his  only 
reason.     You  may,  perhaps,  moderate  his  pas- 
sions, if  not  wholly  regulate  them  ;  you  may,  j 
perhaps,  if  not  wholly  terminate  the  misfor- 
tunes  of  his  reign,   yet  diminish  them.      But 
how  must  you  procure  this  advantage?    You 
mu-t  rise  into  an  opportunity  to  do  good,  by 
becoming  jourself  an  iiijlrument  of  his  extijr- 
tioas,  by  passing  encomiums  on  his  guilty  plea- 
sures,  by  disgracing  yourself  to  become   the 
panegyrist  of  his  tyranny.     In  such  a  case,  it 
would  be  better  to  qdii  the  court,  to  give   up 
the  favour  of  such  a  prince,  to  obey  the  divine 
laws,  and  to  leave  the  government  of  tiie  world 
to  God.    It  must  be  granted  that,  when  crimes 
are  necessary  to  public  good,  it  is  not  you  who 
are  appointed  to  commit  them,  this  is  not  your 
cilling.     '  O  my  soul,  come  not  thou  into  their 
secret,   unto  their  assembly  mine   honour  be 
not  thou  united,'  Gen.  xlix.  6. 

But,  when  temptations  are  surmountable, 
when  God  olF-ars  to  assist  us  to  surmount  them, 
"when  nothing  but  our  own  idleness  can  pre- 
Tont  our  conquering,  and  when  we  are  able, 
by  exposing  ourselves  to  danger,  to  serve  so- 
ciety and  the  church  ;  I  affu-m,  that  we  are 
then  called  to  expose  ourselves,  and  to  meet, 
resist,  and  surmount  all  difficuties.  I  affirm, 
in  such  a  case,  it  is  our  duty  not  to  avoid,  but 
to  approach  difficulties,  and  to  take  pains  to 
surmount  them.  A  minister  of  the  gospel 
has  more  difficulty  in  his  way  of  salvalion 
than  a  private  person.  A  private  Christian, 
in  general,  is  responsible  only  for  his  own  soul ; 
but  a  minister  of  the  go-^pel  is  accountable  for 
the  souls  of  all  whom  God  has  committed  to 
his  care.  Every  part  of  his  office  is  a  source 
of  difficulties  and  trials.  If  he  have  great 
abilities,  I  fear  he  will  become  vain;  if  he 
have  not,  I  fear  he  will  envy  his  superiors.  If 
he  be  set  in  some  conspicuous  place,  I  fear  his 
feeble  eyes  will  be  dazzled  with  his  situation  ; 
if  he  live  in  obscurity,  I  fear  he  will  sink  into 
indifference.  If  he  be  appointed  to  speak  to 
the  great,  I  fear  he  will  become  pliant  and 
mean  ;  if  he  be  confined  to  people  of  ordniary 
rank,  I  fear  he  will  become  indifferent  to  their 
souls,  ;uid  not  take  sufficient  pains  to  procure 
the  salvation  of  them.  Snares  and  tempta- 
tions every  where  !  fVho  is  sufficient  for  these 
things/  But  what!  must  a  man  then  bury 
his  talents  lest  he  should  abuse  them  .•'  No. 
This  is  not  to  choose  the  way  by  which  it  is 
the  pleasure  of  God  to  save  us.  It  does  not 
belong  to  us  to  choose  what  kind  of  virtue  he 
shall  tliink  fit  to  exercise.  The  duty  of  a 
Christian  is,  not  to  o:nU  the  ncqui-ition  of 
knowledge,  but  to  endeavour  noi  to  be  puffed 
up  with  it.  It  is  not  to  avoid  conspicuous 
places,  but  to  guard  agninsl  being  infatuated 
with  them.  It  is  not  to  tlee  from  the  notic  ol 
the  great,  but  to  watch  against  servility  and 
meanly  cringing  in  their  presence. 

In  like  manner,  you  are  sure  you  may  be 
very  useful  to  religion  and  society  by  filling  a 
hi^b  oifice.     You  are  aware  of  the  intrigues 


of  a  court.  You  are  certain  that,  if  the  small 
number  of  virtuous  men,  who  fill  high  offices, 
were  to  retire  from  public  business,  the  state 
would  be  abandoned  to  injustice  and  oppres- 
sion, and  become  the  prey  of  tyrants.  You 
are  one  of  these  virtuous  characters.  You 
ought  then  to  fill  this  post,  and  the  difficulties 
you  meet  with  cannot  dispense  with  your  ob- 
ligation. I  repeat  it  again,  it  does  not  belong 
to  us  to  choose  the  way  in  which  it  shall  be 
the  pleasure  of  God  to  save  us.  It  is  not  our 
business  to  single  out  a  particular  virtu°,  and 
insist  on  such  a  course  of  life  as  shall  exercise 
it :  whether  it  be  a  noisy  or  a  silent  path, 
whether  it  be  a  frequented  or  a  solitary  way, 
whether  it  be  the  practice  of  public  or  private 
virtue.  But,  say  you,  I  cannot  help,  while  I 
execute  this  office,  my  impatience  ;  I  am  ob- 
liged to  give  audience  to  a  man  who  torments 
me  with  tedious  and  confused  harangues  in  a 
course  of  business ;  I  wish  to  eradicate  this 
evil,  and  to  get  rid  of  this  trial  of  my  pa'.ience, 
by  quitting  my  place.  No,  do  not  get  rid  of 
this  man  ;  do  not  quit  your  place  :  but  take 
pains  with  yourself  to  correct  your  impatience ; 
try  to  cool  your  blood,  and  regulate  your  spi- 
rits- It  is  by  the  way  of  patience  that  God 
will  save  you.  But  I  shall  not  have  courage 
to  plead  all  alone  for  rectitude,  I  shall  have 
the  weakness  to  sacrifice  it,  if  it  should  hap- 
pen at  any  time  not  to  be  supported  by  others, 
I  will  eradicate  this  evil,  and  avoid  the  temp- 
tation by  quitting  my  employment.  No.  Do 
not  quit  an  employment  in  which  your  influ- 
ence may  be  serviceable  to  the  intere.'^.s  of  vir- 
tue ;  but  take  pains  with  your  own  heart,  and 
subdue  it  to  the  service  of  rectitude,  that  you 
may  be  able  to  plemi  lor  virtue  without  a 
second.  But  I  shall  certainly  sink  under  temp- 
tation, unless  God  aiford  me  extraordinary 
supuort.  Well,  a.-k  f(jr  extraordinary  support 
then  ;  you  have  a  right  to  expect  it,  because 
the  place  you  fill  renders  it  necessary  for  the 
glory  of  God,  Let  us  finish  this  article,  and 
let  us  form  a  clear  notion  of  what  we  mean 
by  a  calling.  That  place,  in  which  it  is  pro- 
bable, all  things  considered,  we  can  do  most 
good,  is  the  place  to  which  Providence  calls 
us.  To  fill  that  is  our  calling.  This  estab- 
lishes our  fourth  maxim,  that  the  evils  which 
imbitter  the  lives  of  courtiers,  and  of  all  who 
are  elevated  to  eminent  posts,  the  danger  of 
perishing  by  the  ills  which  accompany  human 
grandeurs,  ought  not  to  deter  from  occupying 
them  such  persons  as  have  it  in  their  jjower 
to  render  signal  services  to  the  state  and  the 
church. 

Thus  we  have  made  a  few  reflections  serv- 
ing to  determine  how  far  the  honours  and  af- 
fairs of  a  court  suit  a  young  man.  Let  us 
proceed  to  show  tliat  they  are  improper  for  an 
old  man.  This  is  the  piincipal  design  of  the 
text.  '  The  king  said  unto  Barzillai,  come 
thou  over  with  me,  --ind  I  will  feed  thee  with 
me  in  Jerusalem.  And  BarziUai  said  unto 
the  king,  how  long  have  1  to  live,  that  I  should 
go  up  with  the  king  unto  J'.'rusaiem .'  lam 
thi  d?y  fourscore  years  old  ;  andean  I  discern 
between  good  and  evil.'  can  thy  servant  taste 
what  1  eat  or  what  I  drink  ?    can  1  hear  any 


Skr.  XLVIII.] 


THE  LIVES  OF  COURTIERS. 


425 


more  the  voice  of  singing  men  and  singing 
women  ?  wherefore  then  should  thy  servant 
be  yet  a  burden  unto  my  lord  the  king.  Thy 
servant  will  go  a  little  way  over  Jordan  with 
the  king ;  and  why  should  the  king  recom- 
pense me  with  such  a  reward  ?  Let  thy  ser- 
vant, I  pray  thee,  turn  back  again,  that  1  may 
die  in  mine  own  city,  and  be  buried  by  the 
grave  of  my  father  and  of  my  mother.'  This 
is  the  subject  of  oar  second  part. 

Were  it  jiroper  for  me,  my  brethren,  to 
make  a  digression  (rom  the  principal  object  ot 
our  present  attention,  i  could  not  deny  myself 
the  pleasure  of  making  an  observation  of  an- 
other kind.  Before  I  spoke  of  Barzillai,  who 
modestly  refused  human  grandeur.  I  should 
speak  of  the  gratitude  of  David,  who,  to  his 
praise  be  it  spoken,  made  him  the  offer.  This 
latter  example  deser/ee  consideration,  my 
brethren,  were  it  only  for  its  singularity. 
Gratitude  is  very  rare  among  princs,  it  is  not 
a  virtue  at  court.  Devote  yourselves,  poor 
courtiers  !  1  say,  devote  yourselves  sincerely 
and  heartily  to  earthly  princes,  devote  to  them 
your  rest,  your  fortune,  your  lives;  be  lavish 
of  your  blood  in  their  service  ;  for  their  secu- 
rity and  glory  exnose  yourselves  in  the  most 
desperate  undertakings,  attempt  the  most 
bloody  sieges  and  battles  ;  what  will  you  find 
princes  after  all  yoir  services?  Ingrates.  Do 
not  expect  to  meet  with  a  Ua^•id  eager  to  give 
you  substantial  proofs  of  his  gratitude,  to  say 
to  you,  •  Come  over  with  me,  and  I  will  feed 
you  with  me  in  Jerusalem ;'  to  perpetuate 
his  goodness,  to  transmit  it  to  your  posterity 
and  to  say  to  his  successor,  '  Show  kinlness 
unto  the  sons  of  Barzillai,  and  let  them  be  of 
those  that  eat  at  thy  taMe.'  How  often  do 
partiality  and  intrigue  prevail,  in  the  distri- 
bution of  royal  lavours,  over  reason  and  equi- 
ty.' How  often  are  the  children  of  those, 
who,  with  a  generous  courage  sacrificed  their 
lives  for  the  puiilic  good,  ooliged  to  beg  their 
bread.  How  often  have  they  urged  in  vain 
the  merito:ious  services  of  their  parents  ;  how 
often  have  they  without  success  proiucod 
blood  yet  warm ''bed  for  the  public  safety? 
How  often  have  they  in  vain  demandi-d  that 
subsistence  from  charity,  which  they  had  a 
right  to  expect  from  equity?  David,  distin- 
guished among  all  believers,  distinguishes 
himself  also  among  all  kings.  '  Come  over 
Jordan  with  me,' said  he  to  Barzillai,  'and  I 
will  feed  you  witli  me  in  Jerusalem,' 

A  king  thus  offering  grandeurs  from  a  prin- 
ciple of  grat;tude  is  an  uncommon  si^ht.  It 
is,  perhais,  a  sight  more  unusual  than  that 
of  a  man  refusing  them  from  a  principle  of 
wise  moderation.  '  How  Ion:;  have  [  to  live,' 
replies  good  Barzillai,  '  that  I  should  go  up 
with  the  km-;  unto  Jerusalem  ?  I  am  tliis  day 
fourscore  years  old  ;  anlcanl  disci-rii  lietween 
good  and  evil  ?  can  thy  servant  taste  wiiat  I 
eat  or  what  1  drink?  can  1  hear  any  more  the 
voice  of  singing  men  and  singing  women? 
wherefore  then  shi  uld  thy  servant  b-  yet  a 
burden  to  my  lord  the  king  ?  Let  thy  servant, 
I  pray  thee,  turn  back  again,  that  I  may  die 
in  minf?  own  c  ty,  and  be  buried  bv  the  grave 
of  my  father  and  oi  my  mother.'     fLs  refusal 


proceeds  from  three  causes;  the  insensibility 
of  old  age,  the  misfortune  of  old  age,  and  the 
nearness  ot  old  age  to  death.  '  I  am  fourscore 
years  of  age  ;  can  I  discern  between  good  and 
evil  ?  can  thy  servant  taste  what  I  eat  or  what 
I  drink  ?  can  I  hear  any  more  the  voice  of 
singing  men  and  smging  women  ?'  This  is  the 
insensibility  of  old  age,  and  the  first  cause  of 
his  refusal. 

Why,  should  thy  servant  be  a  burden  to 
my  lord  the  king  ?'  This  is  the  misfortune  of 
old  age,  and  the  second  cause  of  his  refusal. 

'  [low  lon^  have  I  to  live  ?  1  pray  thee  let 
thy  servant  return,  and  let  me  die  in  mine 
own  city,  and  be  burie  i  by  my  father  and  my 
mother.'  This  is  the  nearness  of  old  age  to 
death,  and  this  is  the  third  cause  of  his  refusal. 
These  are  three  sources  of  many  reflections, 
1.  The  insensibility  of  old  age  is  the  first 
cause  of  the  refusal  of  barzillai.  '  I  am  this 
day  fourscore  years  of  age  ;  can  I  discern  be- 
tween good  and  evil  ?  can  I  hear  any  more 
the  voice  of  singing  men  and  singing  women  ?' 
This  insensibility  may  proceed  either  from 
a  principle  of  wisdom,  or  from  constitution.  It 
may  proceed,  first,  from  wisdom.  A  man, 
who  has  experienced  the  vanity  of  human 
grandeur  ;  a  man  who  has  often  asked  himself, 
of  what  use  is  this  kind  of  life  ?  what  good 
comes  of  this  pomp  and  pleasure?  a  man,  who 
by  frequently  reflecting  on  all  he  sees  and  hears, 
has  formed  a  just  notion  of  man,  and  of  his  real 
wants ;  a  man,  whose  reiterated  meditations 
ha\e  purified  his  taste,  and  formed  in  him  a 
habit  of  employing  himself  about  things  of  im- 
i  'ortance  ;  such  a  man  does  not  entertain  a  very 
high  idea  of  the  privilege  of  living  with  the 
great,  of  eating  at  their  tables,  and  of  partici- 
pating their  pUasures.  Only  such  pleasures 
as  have  God  immediately  for  their  object,  and 
eternity  for  their  end,  can  always  satisfy. 
Such  pleasures  are  approved  by  reason,  ripen- 
ed by  age,  and  such  pleasures  are  satisfactory 
at  all  times,  and  in  all  stages  of  life.  All 
other  pleasures  are  fatiguing,  and  in  the  end 
extremely  disgu?ttul.  '  Can  I  hear  any  more 
the  voice  of  singing  men  and  singing  women  ? 
Why  should  the  king  recompense  me  with 
such  a  reward  ?' 

But  there  is  also  a  constitutional  insensibil- 
ity. The  sen-es,  which  transmit  pleasures  to 
us,  become  blunt,  and  pleasures  are  blunted 
with  them.  Indeed,  we  sometimes  see  old 
ppoile,  to  the  ihame  of  human  nature,  pre- 
tending to  rise  above  the  ruins  of  a  decayin" 
body,  and  trying  to  support  the  inconveniences 
of  old  age  by  the  pleasures  of  youth.  We 
sometimes  see  men,  whose  relaxed  and  trem- 
bling hands  are  too  feeble  to  hold  a  box  of 
dice  or  a  hand  of  cards,  supported  by  others, 
and  gaming  with  a  part  of  themselves,  as 
they  cannot  do  so  with  the  whole.  We  have 
seen  some,  who,  not  being  abie  to  go  them- 
selves to  a  play,  have  caused  themselves  to  be 
carried  thither,  exposing  their  extravagance 
on  a  theatre,  intended  for  the  exhibition  of 
other  scenes,  and  so  acting  a  real  tragedy  along 
with  a  fictitious  one.  We  have  seen  some, 
who  having  bodies  decaying  with  diseases 
t-o  ilracted  by  youthful  passions,  or.  to  use  an 


426 


THE  LIVES  OF  COURTIERS. 


[Seb.  XLVIII. 


emphatical  expression  of  an   apostle,  having 
•received  within  themselves  that  recompense 
of  their  error  which  was  meet,'  covered  with 
wounds  brought  upon  tliemselves  by  their  de 
baucherics  ;    we  have  seon  them  trying  to  di- 
vert the  pain  of  reflecting  oi;  the  cause  of  their 
d'.  oline  by  the  absurd  method   of  gazing  still 
on  the  very  objects  wluch  wpre  first  faial  to 
their  innocence,  an  J   by  glutting  their  imagi- 
nations, now  their   senses  can  relish  no  more. 
We  have  seen  men  dedicate  the  last  moments 
of  lifie    to   the  god  oi    (ileasure,  just  as  they 
sacrificed  their   youth  and  manhood   to   the 
same  deity.     We  have  seen  old  men,  who,  too 
dim-oighted   themselves  to  see  the  glitter  of 
diamonds  and  jewels,  have  taken  a  pleasure  in 
exposing   the  brilliancy  of  them  to  the   eyes 
of  others ;  who,  not  having  a  body  to  adorn, 
have  ornamented  a  skeleton,  and  who,  lest  they 
should  be  taken  for  dead  corpses,  have  dncked 
themselves  with  trinkets  fit  only  for  people  in 
the  vigour  of  life.     However,  these  shameful 
phenomena  do  not  destroy  our  reflection.     It 
is  always  true,  that  pleasure  loses  its  point  at 
a  certain  age.     If  the  old   men,  of  whom  we 
have  been  speaking,   yet  love  pleasure,   it  is 
not  taste  that  tempts  them.     Like  the  inha- 
bitants of  the  mo^t  ai-ominable  city  that  ever 
disgraced  the  world,  they  weary  themselves, 
though  they  were  some  time  ago  struck  blind, 
to  find  the   door,  the  door   of  Lot,  towards 
which  their  brutal  passions  had   given  a  di- 
rection to  their  bodies,  belore  they  lost  their 
sight.     They  act  thus,  because,  though  musi- 
cal  entertainments  no  more  delight  their  ears, 
yet  they  keep  them  from  hearing  the  cries  oi 
conscience,   which  would  rend  them  asunder. 
They  act  thus,  because,  though  they  have  only 
a  confused  sight  of  the  charms  of  worldly  ob- 
jects, yet  these  objects  serve,   like  a    wall,  to 
keep  out  of  sight  a  future  world,  a  glimmer 
ing  of  which   would    conlound    and   distract 
them.      However,    the    irregularity   of    the 
heart  o-  an  old  man  does  not  altei  the  infirmi- 
ties of  his  body      It  IS  always  true,  thnt  at  a 
certain  time  of  life, we  acquire  a  con-titulional, 
orgaiiical  insensibility      Isaac,  that  good  old 
man,  arrives  at  a  very  ad»anced  age,   but  his 
eyes  are   become  dim,   he  cannot  distinguish 
one  of  his  children  from  another,  he  mistakes 
the  hands  of  Jacob  for  those  of  Lsau, '  the  voice 
is  the  voice  ol  Jacol),   but  the  hands  are  the 
hands  of  Esau.'     He  cannot  distinguish   ven- 
sion  from  goat's  flesh.     He  conters  that  bene- 
diction on  the  youngest  wluch  he  intended  tor 
the  elde>t.     If  nature  grants  to  a  few  of  man- 
kind the  privilege  of  a  very  long  life,  the  pri 
vilege  IS  sold,   and  a  part   of  the   pleasure  of 
living  must  be  given  for  the  purchase  ;    ob 
jccts  ol  pleasure  mu-t  retire,  and  senses  to  be 
phased   with  these  objects  not  unfi-equenily 
retire   first.     Before   this  earthly  house   falls 
by  its  own  frailty,  to  use  an  expression  of  the 
Wise  Alan, '  the  years  arrive  in  which  we  are 
obliged  to  say,  we  have  no  pleasure.'    Eccles, 
XII.    1,  &c.     T lien,  according  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  ihe  same  author,  '  tiie  sun,  the  moon, 
the  stars,  are  darkened,  and  the  clouds  return 
not  after  the  rain.    The  keepers  of  hi-  house,' 
that  IS,  the  hands, '  treuible  ;  his  strong  men,*  ( 


that  is,  his  legs  and  feet  '  bow  themselves ; 
his  grinders,'  that  is,  his  teeth,  *  cease  to  per- 
form their  functions,  because  they  are  few  ; 
those  that  look  out  of  the  windows,'  that  is, 
the  eyes,  'are  darkened;  the  doors,'  that  is, 
the  ears,  *  shall  be  shut  in  the  streets  ;  the 
daughters  of  music,'  that  is,  the  organs  of 
speech,  '  shall  be  brought  low ;  the  almond 
tree  shall  flourish,'  that  is,  the  head  shall  be- 
come white  With  age  ;  '  the  silver  cord,'  that 
IS,  the  spinal  marrow,  'shall  be  broken;  the 
grasshopper,'  that  is,  the  stomach,  '  shall  be  a 
burden ;  the  golden  bowl,'  the  brain,  »  shall 
be  broken  ;  the  pitcher,'  that  is,  the  lungs, 
*  broken  at  the  fountain ;  and  the  wheel,* 
the  heart.  '  shall  be  broken  a1  the  cistern.'  A 
sad,  but  natural  description,  my  lirethren,  of 
the  infirmities  of  old  age.  A  condition  very 
unfit  for  the  world  and  pleasure,  for  business 
and  a  court.  '  How  long  have  I  to  live,  that 
I  should  go  up  with  the  king  unto  Jerusalem  ? 
I  am  this  day  fourscore  years  old,  and  can  I 
discern  between  good  and  evil.''  can  thy  ser- 
vant taste  what  I  eat  or  what  I  drink.''  can  I 
hear  any  more  the  voice  of  singing  men  and 
singins-  women  ?' 

2.  The  infirmities  of  old  age  are  a  second 
reason  of  the  retusal  of  Barzillai.  'Why 
should  thy  servant  be  a  burden  to  my  lord  the 
king?'  Certainly  an  old  man  ought  to  be 
treated  with  the  greatest  respect  and  venera- 
tion. The  Scripture  gives  us  a  precept,  which 
humanity,  to  say  nothing  of  religion,  should 
induce  us  to  obey  :  'Th  u  shalt  rise  up  before 
the  hoary  head,  and  honour  the  tace  of  the  old 
man,'  Lev.  xix.  32.  What  can  claim  our 
patient  attention  so  much  as  a  man  stooping 
under  the  weight  of  age  and  infirmities? 
What  duty;  can  be  more  indispensable  than 
that  of  rendering  to  the  infirmities  of  old  age 
such  assistance  as  these  old  people  once  ren- 
dered to  the  helplessness  of  our  iiilaticy?  Par- 
ticularly, what  can  be  more  venerable  than 
an  old  man,  who  has  spent  his  youth  in  pro- 
curing those  benefits  to  society  which  his  old 
age  now  hardly  suiiers  him  to  enjoy?  What 
more  just  than  to  respect  a  soldier  grown  gray 
in  his  arms,  whose  venerable  silver  head  has 
been  preserved  by  miracle?  Who  more  wor- 
thy of  esteem  than  an  ancient  magistrate, 
whose  life  has  been  devoted  to  the  felicity  of 
the  state?  What  more  respectable  than  an 
old  minister  of  the  gospel,  whose  spirits  have 
been  exhausted  in  studying  and  preaching  the 
truth  ?  To  people  of  this  character  the  words 
of  the  Wise  Man  belong,  '  the  hoary  head  is  a 
crown  01  glory,  being  foinid  in  the  way  of 
right  ousness,'  Prov.  xv  .  :51. 

Whatever  idea  Ba;z;llai  formed  of  the  equi- 
ty and  benevolence  of  D.ivid,  he  did  justice 
to  himself.  He  well  knew  that  a  man  of  eigh- 
ty would  be  a  burden  to  this  good  king, 
'  Whv  should  thy  servant  be  a  burden  to  my 
lord  the  king?'  A  man  at  this  time  of  lile  too 
strikingly  exhibits  human  infirmities  to  give 
pleasure  in  circles  of  company,  where  such 
m  trtifying  ideas  are  either  quite  forgotten,  or 
slightly  remembered.  The  tokens  of  death, 
which  an  old  man  carries^about  with  him,  ex- 
cite reflections  too  dismal  to  contril)ule  to  the 


Ser.  XL VIII.] 


THE  LIVE8  OF  COURTIERS. 


427 


pleasure  of  a  company,  which  endearour  to 
sweeten  life  by  innocent  recreations,  or  by 
others  which  concupiscence  adds  to  those  of 
religion.  Involuntary  complaints  and  sighs 
but  ill  accord  with  musical  instruments  and 
the  vocal  melody  of  gay  aj^semblies.  Pressing 
infirmities,  continual  fears  and  cares,  the  auti- 
cipated  dying  of  a  man  of  fourscore,  ill  assort 
■with  sumptuous  tables.  The  last  years  of  my 
life,  all  heavy,  dull,  and  frozen,  disconcert  a 
festival  celebrated  by  people  full  of  fire,  viva- 
city, and  vigour.  Barzillai  felt  his  Irailty, 
and,  though  he  was  fully  convinced  that  Da- 
vid had  a  fund  of  goodness  sufficient  to  bear 
with  him,  yet  he  would  not  abuse  his  polite- 
ness. '  How  long  have  I  to  live,  that  I  should 
go  up  with  the  king  to  Jerusalem  ?  Why 
should  the  king  recompense  me  with  such  a 
reward?  Why  should  thy  servant  be  yet  a 
burden  to  my  lord  the  king  ? 

Wo  be  to  him  who  iias  rendered  worldly  plea- 
sures necessary  to  hiniseU  in  old  age.  He  will 
not  find  a  David  every  where  to  offer  them 
to  him.  Here,  my  brethren,  I  fear  sinning 
ag.iinst  my  own  principles ;  I  fear  being  accu- 
sed of  wanting  such  veneration  for  the  aged 
as  I  just  now  said  was  their  due;  1  fear  I  shall 
be  taxed  with  despising  the  ancients,  so  wor- 
thy of  our  attention  and  regard.  However,  I 
must  mention  a  few  reflections  tending  to  jus- 
tify the  conduct  of  Barzdlai,  and  to  unfold  the 
spirit  and  sense  of  the  text.  I  must  make 
these  reflections,  too,  for  other  reasons  ;  in  ge- 
neral for  the  benefit  of  this  whole  assembly ; 
for  your  sakes,  in  particular,  our  aged  hearers, 
that  you  may  be  induced,  by  the  idea  of  a 
world  that  avoids  you,  to  return  to  God,  who 
opens  his  arms  to  receive  you  ;  for  your  sakes, 
also,  young  people,  that  you  may  be  prevail- 
ed on  to  amass  pleasures  in  your  youth  which 
will  remain  with  you  in  old  age.  Wo  be  to 
him.  I  say,  who  renders  worldly  pleasures 
necessary  to  his  old  age  !  Hai^py,  on  the  con- 
trary, he  who  has  laid  up  treasure  for  time  to 
come  !  Happy  the  man  who  has  prepare<J  for 
himsell  pleasures  for  a  time  when  the  plea- 
sures of  the  World  are  insipid,  and  when  he 
himself  is  intolerable  to  those  who  enjoy  them  ! 
Happy  he  who,  insteiid  of  pining  after  the 
circles  of  the  giiy  and  the  great,  has  no  other 
desire  than  that  of  making  his  court  to  the 
King  of  kings  !  Happy  he  who,  instead  of  at- 
tempting to  please  himself  with  'the  voices 
of  singing  men  and  singing  women,'  delights 
himself  with  pious  books  and  holy  medita- 
tions !  Happy  the  maii  who,  when  he  becomes 
a  burden  to  society,  knows,  like  Barzillai, 
how  to  relish  the  pleasure  of  retirement  and 
solitude  !  Happy  he  who,  instead  of  pursuing 
a  fleeting  phantom  of  felicity  and  glory, 
knows  how  to  direct  his  sighs  to  the  bo- 
som of  that  God  in  whom  substantial  glory 
and  true  felicity  dwell,  objects  which  ne- 
ver elude  his  search!  Happy  he  whose 
eyes,  however  weakened  by  age,  are  not  be- 
come too  dim  sighted  to  see  the  gate  of  hea- 
ven !  '  appy  the  man  whose  faultering  voice 
and  feeble  hands  can  yet  address  this  prayer 
to  God,  and  say  with  a  prophet, '  Cast  me  not 


ofi"  in  the  time  of  old   age,   forsake  me  not 
when  my  strength  faileth,'  Ps.  Ixxix.  9. 

3.  In  fine,  my  brethren,  Barzillai  revolved 
in  his  mind  the  nearness  of  old  age  to  death. 
This  was  the  principal  cause  of  his  refusal. 
How  long  have  I  to  live  .'  These  words  imply 
a  retrospect,  how  long  have  I  lived  .■■  aiid  a 
prospect,  how  long  have  I  yet  to  live  ?  '  I 
am  this  day  fourscore  years  years  old.  Let 
thy  .servant.  I  pray  thee,  turn  back  again,  that 
I  may  die  in  mine  own  city,  and  be  buried  by 
the  grave  of  my  father  and  my  mother. '  This 
was  a  very  reasonable  request,  my  brethren, 
both  in  regard  to  the  principle  laid  down,  and 
the  consequence  derived  from  it.  The  princi- 
ple is,  that  there  is  very  little  distance  between 
old  age  and  death.  So  little,  that  the  good 
old  man  thonglit  that  there  was  but  just  time 
enough  (or  hira  to  pass  over  Jor  Ian  with  the 
ki  ig,  to  return  back,  and  to  prepare  for  his 
funeral.  'How  long  have  1  to  live.''  I  am 
this  day  fourscore  years  old.  Let  thy  servant 
I  pray  thee,  turn  hack  again,  that  I  may  die 
in  mine  own  city,  and  be  buried  by  the  grave 
of  my  father  and  my  mother.  Was  ever  prin- 
ciple better  founded.''  How  little  is  necessary 
to  overset  and  break  the  frame  of  a  man  of 
this  age  .'  What  is  f^-jc^^s-ary  .'  A  vapour  !  A 
puff  of  wind  ! 

Let  us  p"'J'-<-  here  a  mom  .t.'my  brethren, 
and  let  r  'lot  behold  this  sipctacle  without 
reflec  •  i  i^  on  the  vanity  of  thir  life.  A  lite  of 
foi'vsiore  years  appfar':  to  lae  a  most  abun- 
d^.  t  source  of  reflect 'iir;  on  human  frailty. 
T  ue  it  is,  that  dises  es  which  consume  us, 
•:  /  ?den  leat.'is,  v.-  i.ch  cry  to  us,  'children  of 
:•<-;,  reiuri),  and  which  cut  off  numbers  be- 
fore they  have  lived  halt  their  days,  fires, 
shipwrecks,  assassinations,  epidemical  diseases, 
ail  these  are  very  proper  to  teach  us  what  a 
little  account  we  ought  to  make  of  the  present 
life.  But,  how  frequently  soever  these  sad 
accidents  happen,  we  generally  lake  care  to 
burden  ourselves  against  any  appreli-  nsions  of 
danger  from  them,  by  considering  them  as  ex- 
traordinary events,  by  hoping  we  shall  escape 
them,  and  by  flattering  ourselves  that  we  shall 
arrive  at  a  good  old  age. 

Well  1  you  are  to  arrive  at  this  good  old 
age!  But  how  many  years  will  elapse  be- 
fore you  do  arrive  at  it  f  No,  no,  I  r;;peat  it 
again,  nothing  is  more  proper  to  discover  our 
frailly.  Should  a  thousand  uncommon  circuin- 
stancos  concur,  should  a  vi^'orous  constitution, 
a  wise  and  cautious  course  of  action,  and  a 
proper  choice  ol  diet,  unite  to  preserve  you  to 
this  agp  ;  should  you  escape  water  and  fire, 
and  thieves,  and  earthquakes,  the  frailty  nf  in- 
fancy, the  1  ipetuosity  of  youth,  and  the  in- 
firmities of  advanced  age  ;  should  you  by  a 
kind  of  miracle  arrive  at  the  utmost  limits 
prescribed  to  mankind,  what  then .''  Must 
you  not  presently  die  ^  The  longest  life  seldom 
extends  to  a  century.  When  a  man  has  lived 
a  hundred  years  in  the  world,  he  is  the  won- 
der of  the  universe^  and  his  age  alone  renders 
him  famous.  The  most  obscure  life  becomes 
con3j)!cuous,  when  it  is  drawn  out  to  this 
length.     It  is  spoken  of  as   a  prodigy,  it  is 


428 


THE  LIVES  OF  COURTIERS. 


[3ku.  XLVMI. 


published  in  foreign  countries ;  history  records 
the  man  who  had  the  exlraordinary  happiness 
to  live  to  such  an  age,  it  wrkas  his  name  with 
precision,  and  transmits  his  memory  to  the 
nio't  distant  posterity  ;  it  says,  at  sucli  a  time, 
in  such  a  place,  lived  a  man  who  .ittanied  his 
hundredth  year.  After  this,  he  must  die. 
Old  age  is  an  incurable  malady,  and  we  are 
old  at  foursf:ore.  O !  shadow  of  lile,  how 
vain  art  thou  !  O  grass  !  how  little  a  time  dost 
thou  flourish  in  our  field  1  O  wise  and  in- 
structive principle  of  Barzillai,  there  is  very 
little  distance  between  old  age  and  death  I 
*  How  long  have  I  to  live,  that  I  should  ^-o  up 
with  the  king  to  Jerusalem  ?  1  am  this  day 
fourscore  years  old,  I  pray  thee  let  me  re- 
turn, that  I  may  die  m  mine  own  city,  and 
be  buried  by  the  grave  oi  my  lather  and  my 
mother.' 

But  if  the  principle  of  this  good  old  man  be 
■well  founded,  Uie  consequence  derived  from 
it  is  better  founded,  that  is,  that  worldly  af- 
fairs do  not  suit  a  man  drawing  near  the  end 
his  of  life  ;  that  when  death  is  so  near,  a  man 
should  be  wholly  employed  in  preparing  lor 
it  If  Barzillrti  had  been  a  wise  man  through 
the  whole  course  of  his  life,  as  we  mj^y  sup- 
pose he  had,  he  had  not  put  off  till  now  a 
preparation  for  this  event,  wluch  is  certainly 
the  most  serious  and  important  of  life.  Even 
they  who  have  lived  the  most  regularly,  and 
gone  innocent  through  all  tlie  bu^y  scenes  of 
life,  have  long  accounts  to  settle,  and  questions 
of  the  last  importance  to  agitate,  when  they 
come  to  die.  Every  thing  engages  Barzillai 
to  avoid  disconcerting  himself  in  his  last  mo- 
ments, and  to  devote  the  few  that  remain  to 
seriousness.  Yes,  every  thing  engages  him  to 
do  so ;  and  to  confine  myself  to  some  reflec- 
tions, the  length  of  time  he  had  lived,  the 
cares  ot  his  mind  at  present,  and  the  consoia- 
tion  arising  Irom  a  meditation  of  dLath,  all 
incline  iiim  to  take  leave  of  the  kmg  und  the 
court,  the  plnasures  and  business  of  the  world, 
tables  richly  served,  and  concerts  well  per- 
formed ;  all  incline  him  to  think  of  nothing 
but  death. 

1.  The  long  time  he  had  lived.  If  the  ac- 
count which  God  requires  every  man  to  give 
at  death  be  terrible  to  all  men,  it  should  seem 
particularly  so  to  old  men.  An  old  man  is 
responsible  for  all  the  periods  of  his  life,  ail 
the  circumstances  he  has  been  in,  and  all  the 
connexions  he  has  formed.  Then  before  a 
tribunal  of  impartial  justice,  will  every  instant 
of  that  long  life,  which  is  now  at  an  end,  be 
examined.  Then  will  all  the  objects  which 
time  seems  to  have  buried  in  eternal  silence 
be  recalled  to  view.  Then  sins  of  youth, 
which  have  left  no  trace  on  the  mind,  because 
the  eagerness  with  which  we  proceed  to  the 
commis^ion  of  new  crimes,  does  not  allow 
time  to  examine  what  we  have  committed, 
then  will  they  all  rise  out  of  that  sort  of  anni- 
hilation in  which  they  seemed  to  be  lost. 
Fourscore  years  spent  in  ojj'ending  thee  my 
God!*    said  a  dying  man.     Too  true  in  the 

*  Mr.  de  Montausier.  See  the, close  of  his  fune- 
ral oration,  by  Flechior. 


mouth  of  him  who  said  so!  Too  true  in  the 
moulhf  ol  most  old  men  !  K  motive  power- 
ful enough  to  -^nga^ie  .an  old  man  to  employ  iii 
penctential  exercises  every  moment  which  the 
patience  ol  Go'l  yet  atfords.  aud  which,  at  his 
age,  cannot  be  mariy. 

2.  Th(-;  ccjntiiiual  carts  which  exercised  the 
mind  of  barzillai.  were  a  second  spring  of 
his  action.  We  consider  riches  as  protectors 
from  care;  buf  in  geperal  they  are  the  direct 
contrsry.  A  rich  man  is  obliged,  as  it  were, 
to  give  himself  wholly  up  to  discover  and 
defeat  a  general  i-lot  laid  to  engross  his  for- 
tune, t  e  must  resist  such  as  would  violently 
force  it  from  him.  He  must  unmask  others, 
who,  under  colour  of  justice,  and  supported 
by  law,  involve  him  in  lawsuits  to  establish 
illegitimate  claims.  He  must  penetrate 
through  a  thousand  pretences  of  generosity, 
disinterestedness,  and  friendship,  into  the  soul 
ol'  a  lalse  friend  who  aims  at  nothing  but  gra- 
tifying his  own  avarice  or  ambition.  He  must 
watch  night  and  day  to  fix  his  riches,  which, 
having  wings,  are  always  ready  to  fly  away. 
How  difficult  is  it  for  a  soul,  distracted  with 
so  many  cares,  to  devote  as  much  time  to 
work  out  salvation,  as  a  labour  so  impor- 
tant requires!  How  necessary  is  it  to  make 
up,  by  retirement  and  recollection  in  the  last 
stages  of  life,  what  has  been  wanting  in  days 
of  formi-r  hurry,  and  which  are  now  no  more  ! 
I  recollect,  and  I  apply  to  Barzillai,  a  saying 
of  a  captain,  of  whom  historians  have  taken 
more  care  to  record  the  wisdom  than  the 
name.  It  is  said,  that  the  saying  struck  the 
emperor  Charles  V.,  and  confirmed  him  in  his 
design  of  abdicating  his  crown,  and  retiring 
to  a  convent.  The  captain  required  the  em- 
peror to  discharge  him  from  service.  Charles 
asked  the  reason.  The  prudent  soldier  repli- 
ed. Because  l/iere  ought  to  be  a  pause  between 
the  hurry  of  life  and  the  day  of  death. 

3.  Ill  fine,  if  Barzillai  seemed  to  anticipate 
the  dying  day,  by  continually  meditating  on 
the  subject,  it  was  because  the  meditation,  iaW 
of  horror  to  most  men,  was  full  of  charms  to 
this  good  old  man.  When  death  is  consider- 
ed as  accompanied  with  condemnatory  senten- 
ces, formidable  irreversible  decrees,  chains  of 
darkness,  insupportable  tortures,  smoke  as- 
cending up  for  ever  and  ever,  blazing  fires,  re- 
morse, di'S[)air,  desperate  exclamations, 
'  mountains  and  rocks,  fall  on  us,  and  hide  us 
from  the  face  of  him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne, 
and  from  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb  ;  for  the 
great  day  of  his  v.-rath  is  come,  and  who 
shall  he  able  to  stand  .^'  Rev.  x.    11  ;  and  vi. 

i  t),  17.  W  hen  we  consider  death,  as  so  many 
men,  alas  I  ought  to  consider  it,  and  as  by 
their  continual  irregularities  they  prepare  it 
for  consideration,  no  wonder  the  thought  is 
tlisagreeable,  and  must  be  put  far  away.  But 
when  death  is  considered,  as  some  of  you, 
my  brethren,  ought  to  consider  it,  you,  whose 
faults  have  been  washed  with  penitential  tears, 
and  repaired  by  a  real  conversion,  your  view 
of  death  is  more  deliifhtlul,  and  affords  you 
more  pleasure  than  the  tables  of  the  great, 
the  amusements  of  a  court,  and  the  most  me- 
lodious concerts  could  procure.     Then  these 


^Eii.  XLLX.J 


CHRISTIAN  CONVERSATION. 


439 


expressions,  in  appearance  so  mortifying;,  let  me 
return^  ht  me  die,  are  fraugcht  with  happiness. 

Let  me  die,  that  I  may  be  freed  frt)m  the 
many  infirmities,  and  diseases,  and  pains,  to 
which  my  frail  body  is  exposed  ! 

Let  me  die,  that  I  may  get  rid  of  the  mis- 
fortunes, the  treachery,  the  perfidy,  the  nu- 
merous plots  and  plans  which  are  always  in 
agitation  against  me,  iii  a  society  of  man- 
kiiid ! 

Let  me  die,  and  let  me  no  more  see  truth 
persecuted  and  innocence  sacrificed  to  ini- 
quity : 

Let  me  die,  let  all  my  doubts  and  darkness 
vanish,  let  me  surmount  all  my  difficulties, 
and  let  all  the  clouds  that  hide  interesting  ob- 
jects from  me  disappear  !  Let  me  go  to  know 
as  I  am  known,  and  let  me  put  ofl"  this  body 
of  sin  !  Let  me  leave  a  world  in  which,  I  can- 
not live  without  offending  God  !  Let  me  kin- 
dle the  fire  of  my  love  at  the  altar  of  the  love 
of  God ! 

Let  me  die,  and  leave  this  untoward  compa- 
Jiy  of  men,  who  seem  almost  all  to  have  ta- 
ken counsel  against  the  Lord,  and  against  his 
anointed,  to  subvert  his  throne,  and  were  it 
possible,  to  deprive  him  of  the  government  of 
the  world ! 

Let  me  die,  that  I  may  form  intimate  con- 
nexions with  happy  spirits,  and  that  I  may 
o.njoy  that  close  union  with  them,  that  com- 


munion of  ideas,  that  conformity  of  sentiments, 
which  render  heaven  so' delightful. 

Lei  me  die,  that  I  may  behold  the  patri- 
archs and  the  prophets  who  acquired  in  the 
church  an  everlasting  reputation,  and  on 
whose  heads  God  has  already  placed  the 
crowns  which  he  promised  to  their  faith  and 
obedience  ! 

Lei  me  die,  that  I  may  hold  communion 
with  the  happy  God !  I  feel  a  void  within 
me,  which  none  but  he  can  fill ;  I  feel  de- 
sires elevating  me  to  his  throne  ;  1  feel '  my 
soul  longing  and  fainting,  my  heart  and  my 
flesh  crying  out,'  when  I  think  of  presenting 
myself  before  him,  Ps.  Ixxxiv.  2.  Does  my 
heart  say,  '  Seek  his  face  ?  Thy  face  O  Lord 
will  I  seek,'  Ps.  xxvii.  8.  And,  as  m  this 
vale  of  tears  thou  art  always  hidden,  I  will 
seek  thee  in  another  economy  ! 

A  meditation  on  death,  such  as  this,  has 
charms  unknown  to  the  world  ;  but  to  you, 
my  brethren,  they  are  not  unknown.  The 
prospect  of  dying  is  better  to  Barzillai  than 
all  the  pleasures  of  a  court.  A  tomb  appears 
mtjre  desiiable  to  him  than  a  royal  palace^ 
'  Let  me  turn  back,  that  I  may  die,  and  he 
buried  by  the  grave  of  my  father  and  my  mo- 
ther !'  May  we  all  by  a  holy  life  prepare  for 
1  such  a  death !  God  grant  us  grace  to  da 
j  so  I  To  him  be  honour  and  glory  for  erer  I 
Amen. 


SERMON    XLIX* 


C  H  R  I  riT  I  A  N    C  O  N  \'  E  R  S  A  T  I  O  j>i. 


CoLOssiANs  iv.  6. 
jLe^  your  speech   be  alway  ivith  grace,  seasuned  with  salt. 


JT  is  a  complaint,  as  old  as  the  study  of  hu- 
man nature,  that  ir.atikind  are  prone  to  excess, 
iliat  they  never  observe  a  just  mean  ;  that  in 
practising  one  virtue,  they  neglect  another ; 
that  in  avoiding  one  vice,  they  run  into  an 
opposite  ;  in  a  word,  men  usually  go  into  ex- 
tremes. This  general  maxim,  which  is  ex- 
emplified in  almost  all  the  actions  of  men,  is 
particularly  remarkable  in  those  familiar 
conversations,  which  religion  allows,  which 
society  renders  necessary,  and  for  which  God 
seems  to  have  purposely  foniied  us.  Observe 
•he  conduct  of  men  in  this  article,  you  ^vill 
find  everywhere  excesses  and  extremes.  On 
the  one  hand,  you  will  see  rude  and  uncivil 
people  putting  on  in  the  most  innocent  compa- 
nies austere  looks,  ever  declaiming  against 
the  manners  of  the  world,  exclaiming  against 
every  body,  atFecting  to  be  olfended  with  eve- 
ry thing,  and  converting  every  company  into 
a  court  of  justice,  resounding  with  sentences 
against  the  guilty.  On  the  other  hand,  you 
will  find  people,  under  pretence  of  avoiding 


[this  extreme,  exceeding  the  bounds  of  reir- 
Igion,  and  imagining  that,  in  order  to  please  in 
I  conversation,   Christianity  must  be  laid  aside, 
j  and  each  expression   ra.ust  have  an  air  sordiJ 
and   vicious.     Nothing  is  so   rare   as  a  wise 
union   of   gravity  and     gentility,    piety   and 
1  sweetness  of  manners  ;  a  disposition  that  en- 
gages us  to  preserve  inviolable  the  laws  of  re- 
I  iigion  without  injuring  the   rights  of  society, 
I  and  to  do  justice  to  society  wil'aout  violating 
religion. 

However,  it  is  this  just  medium  to  which 
wc  are  called,  without  which  our  conversa- 
tion must  be  criminal,  and  which  St.  Paul 
I  teaches  us  in  the  text :  '  Let  your  speech  be 
alway  with  grace  seasoned  with  salt.'  'Let 
your  speech  be  seasoned  with  salt ;'  here  the 
rights  of  religion  are  preserved,  this  is  the 
livery  of  the  gospel,  the  character  of  Christi- 
anity. '  Let  your  speech  be  alway  with 
grace ;'  here  the  rights  of  society  are  asserted, 
this  is  the  nniocent  pleasure  which  Jesus 
Christ    allows    us ;  this  ia  the  sweetness  of 


4S0 


CHRISTIAN  CONVERSATION. 


[Ser.  XLIX. 


manners,  which,  far  from  opposing,  he  express- 
ly enjoins  us  to  acquire  and  practise.  Tiie 
title  of  my  discourse  then,  shall  be,  The  art  of 
apeakmg;  and  on  this  subject  we  will  treat: 
— The  art  of  speaking,  not  accordin_^  to  the 
rules  of  grammar,  not  in  the  sense  used  in  po- 
lite academies,  according  to  rules  of  worldly 
good  breeding,  an  art  too  insignificant  to  be 
taught  in  this  pulpit;  but  the  art  of  speaking 
according  to  the  laws  of  tlie  gospel,  according 
to  the  precepts  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Chris- 
tian art  of  speaking. 

May  God.  who  has  called  us  to  treat  of  this 
important  subject,  enable  us  to  treat  of  it 
properly  !  May  he  so  direct  us,  that  this  dis- 
fourse  may  serve  us  both  for  instruction  and 
example!  May  our  language  be  'seasoned 
with  salt  and  grace  ;'  with  salt,  that  it  may 
be  grave  and  agreeable  to  the  majesty  of  this 
place,  and  to  the  purity  of  our  ministry  ;  and 
with  grace,  that  we  may  acquire  your  at- 
tention, and  insinuate  into  your  hearts  ! 
Amen ! 

Salt  must  be  the  first  seasoning  of  our  con 
versation.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  observe, 
that  this  term  is  metaphorical,  and  put  for  pu- 
rity, of  which  salt  is  a  symbol.  The  reason 
of  this  metaphor  is  clear  ;  it  is  taken  from  the 
use  of 'salt,  which  preserves  the  flesh  of  ani- 
mals from  putrefaction.  For  this  purpose  it 
was  used  in  sacrifices,  according  to  the  words 
of  Jesus  Christ, '  Every  sacrifice  shall  be  salt- 
ed with  salt.'  '  Let  your  speech  be  seasoned 
with  salt,'  that  is  never  let  your  lips  utter  any 
discourse  which  does  not  savour  of  the  respect 
you  have  for  the  God  you  adore,  the  religion 
you  profess,  and  the  Christian  name  which  you 
have  the  honour  to  bear.  This  is,  in  sub- 
stance, the  first  law  of  conversation.  Let  us 
be  more  particular. 

The  spirit  of  this  maxim  may  be  expressed 
in  five  rules.  The  apostle  recommends  a  sea- 
soning of  piety,  a  seasoning  of  chastity,  a  sea- 
soning of  charity,  a  seasoning  of  severity,  and 
a  seasoning  of  solidity.  Consequently  he  con- 
demns five  usual  imperfections  of  conversation. 
1.  Oaths.  2.  Obscene  language.  3.  Slander. 
4.  Extravagant  complaisance.  ,'3.  Futility. 
Either  I  am  deceived,  my  brethren,  or  every 
person  in  this  auditory  needs  instruction  in 
some  one  of  these  articles. 

I.  The  first  vice  of  conversation,  which 
the  apostle  condemns,  is  swearing.  The  first 
seasoning,  which  he  recommends  to  us,  is  the 
salt  of  piety.  Sad  necessity  for  a  Christian 
preacher,  preaching  to  a  Christian  audience  ! 
Sad  necessity,  indeed,  obliged  to  prove  that 
blasphemy  ought  to  be  banished  from  conver- 
sation !  however,  it  is  indispensably  necessary 
to  prove  this,  for  nothing  is  so  common  among 
some  called  Christians  as  this  detestable  vice. 
It  is  the  effect  of  two  principles,  the  first  is  a 
brutal  madness,  and  the  other  is  a  most  false 


These  (shall  I  call  them  men  or  brute  beasts  r) 
cannot  be  agitated  with  the  least  passion, 
without  uttering  the  most  execrable  impreca- 
tions. Froward  souls,  who  cannot  endure  the 
least  control  without  attacking  God  himself, 
taxing  him  with  cruelty  and  injustice,  disput- 
ing with  him  tlie  government  of  the  world, 
and,  not  being  able  to  subvert  his  throne,  as- 
saulting him  with  murmurings  and  blasphe- 
mies. Certainly  nothing  can  be  so  opposite 
to  this  salt  of  conversation  as  this  abominable 
excess.  They  who  practise  it  ought  to  be 
secluded  from  Christian  societies,  yea  to  be 
banished  even  from  worldly  companies.  Thus 
the  Supreme  Lawgiver,  able  to  save  and  to 
destroy,  has  determined.  Read  the  twenty- 
fourth  of  Leviticus,  'T'he  son  of  an  Israelitish 
woman  blasphemed  the  name  of  the  Lord,' 
ver.  11,  &c.  At  this  news  all  Israel  trembled 
with  horror.  The  prudent  Moses  paused,  and 
consulted  God  himself  what  to  do  in  this  new 
and  unheard-of  case.  The  oracle  informed 
him  in  these  words,  '  bring  forth  him  that  hath 
cursed  without  the  camp,  and  let  all  that  heard 
him  lay  their  hands  upon  his  head,  and  let  all 
the  congregation  stone  him.  And  thou,  Moses, 
shalt  speak  unto  the  children  of  Israel,  say- 
ing. Whosoever  curseth  his  God  shall  bear  his 
sin,  and  he  that  blasphemeth  the  name  of  the 
Lord  shall  surely  be  put  to  death,  and  all  the 
congregation  shall  certainly  stone  him.'  Have 
you  attended  to  this  sentence  ?  It  not  only  re- 
gards the  bjasphemer,  it  regards  all  that  hear 
him.  If  you  be  sincere  mem!>ers  of  the  con- 
gregation of  Israel,  you  ought,  though  not  to 
stone  the  blasphemer,  yet  to  declare  your  ab- 
horrence of  his  conduct,  and,  if  he  remain  in- 
corrigible, to  endeavour  to  rid  society  of  such 
a  monster. 

Human  legislators  have  treated  such  peo- 
ple with  the  utmost  rigour.  The  emperor 
Justinian  condenmed  blasphemers  to  death."^' 
Some  have  bored  their  tongues. t  Others 
have  drowned  them,  j:  Others  have  branded 
them  with  a  red  hot  iron  in  the  forehead,^ 
intending,  by  fixing  this  mark  of  infamy  in  a 
part  so  visible,  to  guard  people  against  keep- 
ing company  with  a  blasphemer.  It  was 
Lewis  tlie  ninth,  a  king  of  France,  who  was 
the  author  of  ti.is  law.  1  cannot  help  relat- 
ing the  words  of  liiis  prince  in  justification  of 
the  severitjr  of  the  l;nv.  A  man  of  rank  in 
the  kingdom  having  ntlercd  blasphemy,  great 
intercession  was  made  for  his  pardon ;  but 
the  king's  answer  was  this,  '  I  would  submit,' 
said  he,  '  to  be  burnt  in  the  forehead  myself, 
if  by  enduring  the  pain  I  could  purify  my 
kingdom  fi'om  blasphemy.' 

We  affirmed,  farther,  that  some  people  ha- 
bituated themselves  to  swearing  from  false 
notions  of  glory  and  freedom  of  conversation. 
A  man  sets  up  for  a  wit  in  conversation,  he 
pretends  to  conciliate  the  esteem  of  his  com- 


and  fanciful  idea  ofsuperior  understanding  and    pany,  and  affects  to  put  on  the  air  of  a  man  of 


free  and  easy  behaviour. 

It  is  brutal  madness  that  puts  some  people 
on  swearing.  Our  language  seems  too  poor 
to  express  this  disposition,  and  the  words 
brutality  and  madness  are  too  vague  to  describe 
tho  «>->irit  of  such  as  are  guilty  of  this  crime. 


the  world,  free  from  the  stiffness  of  pedante. 
(This  is  not  an  invention  of  mine,  this  is  a 


*  Constitut.  Ixxi.  a  Ixvi. 
vit.   Iiiuiiaii  toni.    iii.  p.    1.39. 
Emil.  de  gest.  I'ranc.  fol.  16}. 
can  1576. 


t  Ueycrliiic.  TJieatr . 

}   lliiit.       ^  Paul, 

'->.  2.  edit,  de  Vascos- 


SEii.  XLIX.j 


CHRISTIAN  CONVERSATION. 


46  i 


natural  portrait,  my  brethrsti,  and  some  of 
you  jfave  me  the  original.)  This  man,  1  say, 
having  taken  into  his  head  this  design,  and 
not  being  able  to  derive  means  of  succeeding 
from  his  genius,  or  education,  calls  in  the  aid 
of  oaths  ;  of  these  he  keeps  various  form?, 
and  applies  them  instead  of  reasons,  having 
the  folly  to  imagine  that  an  oath  artfully 
placed  at  the  end  of  a  period  renders  it  more 
expressive  and  polite  ;  and,  judging  of  the 
taste  of  his  hearers  by  his  own,  inwardly  ap- 
plauds himself,  and  wonders  what  heart  can 
resist  the  power  of  his  eloquence.  .An  elocu- 
tion mean  and  contemptible,  and  fitter  for  an 
unbridled  soldiery  than  for  those  that  com- 
mand them.  An  elocution  directly  opposite 
to  the  words  of  my  text, '  Let  your  speech  be 
.seasoned  with  salt.'  Never  let  the  name  of 
God  go  out  of  your  lips  without  exciting  such 
sentiments  of  veneration  in  your  minds  as  are 
due  to  that  sacred  name.  Never  speak  of  the 
attributes  of  God  in  conversation  without  re- 
collecting the  Majesty  of  that  Being  to  vvhom 
they  belong.  '  Accustom  not  thy  mouth  to 
swearing,'  said  the  wise  son  of  Sirach, '  neither 
use  thyself  to  the  naming  of  the  Holy  One; 
for  he  that  nanreth  God  continually  sliall  not 
be  faultless,'  Eccl.  xxii.  9  10.  The  first  vice 
of  conversation  to  be  avoided  is  swearing  and 
blasphemy,  the  first  seasoning  of  conversation 
is  piety. 

2.  The  apostle  prescribes  us  a  seasoning  of 
chuslity.  Against  this  duty  there  are  some 
direct  and  some  oblique  attacks.  Direct  vio- 
lators of  this  law  are  those  nauseous  mouths, 
which  cannot  open  without  putting  modesty 
to  the  blush,  V)y  uttering  language  too  offen- 
sive to  be  repeated  in  this  sacred  assembly, 
yoa,  too  filtiiy  to  be  mentioned  any  where 
without  breaking  tlie  laws  of  worldly  decency. 
We  are  not  surprised  that  people  without 
taste,  and  without  education,  that  a  libertine 
who  makes  a  trade  of  debauchery,  and  who 
usually  haunts  houses  of  infamy,  should  adopt 
this  style;  but  that  Christian  women,  who 
profess  to  respect  virtue,  that  they  should  suf- 
fer their  ears  to  be  defiled  with  such  discourse, 
that  they  should  make  parties  at  entertain- 
ments and  at  cards  with  such  people,  and  so 
discover  that  they  like  to  have  their  ears 
tickled  with  such  conversation,  is  really  as- 
tonishing. We  repeat  it  again,  decorum  and 
^vorldly  decency  are  sulRcient  to  inspire  us 
■with  horror  for  this  practice.  And  shall  the 
maxims  of  religion  affect  us  less  than  human 
rules.'  '  Fornication  and  all  unclelinn  ss,'  said 
St.  Paul, '  let  it  not  be  once  named  among  you, 
as  becometh  saints,'  Eph.  v.  3. 

Barefaced  immodest  discourne  is  not  the 
most  dangerous,  for  it  ought  to  be  then  least 
tolerated,  because  it  is  then  most  execrable 
■when  it  is  uttered  equivocally.  There  is  an 
art  of  disguising  obscenity,  and  of  conveying 
poison  the  most  fatally,  by  communicating  it 
in  preparations  the  most  subtle  and  refined 
Men  in  general  choose  rather  to  appear  vir- 
tuous than  to  be  so,  and,  to  accommodate  such 
people,  there  is  an  art  of  introducing  vice  un- 
der coverings  so  thick  as  to  seem  to  respect 
the  modesty  of  the  company,  and  yet  so  thin 


as  fully  to  expose  it.  A  una  and  delicate 
allusion,  a  lively  and  original  tour  of  expres- 
sion, an  ingenious  equivocation,  a  double  mean- 
ing, an  arch  look,  an  aflTected  gravity,  these 
are  the  dangerous  veils,  these  the  instruments 
that  v/ound  us  when  we  are  off  our  guard. 
For  what  can  you  say  to  a  man  -who  behaves 
in  this  manner.'  If  you  suffer  his  airs  to  pass 
without  censure,  he  will  glory  in  your  indul- 
gence, and  take  your  silence  for  approbation. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  remonstrate,  he  will 
tax  you  only  with  his  own  crime  ;  he  will  tell 
you  tliat  your  ear  is  guilty,  his  language  is  in- 
nocent ;  that  immodesty  is  in  your  heart,  not 
in  his  expressions  ;  and  that  of  two  senses  to 
which  his  language  is  applicable,  you  have 
adopted  the  immodest,  when  you  ought  to 
have  taken  the  chaste  meaning. 

If  to  talk  in  this  manner  be  to  make  an  offer- 
ing of  the  tongue  to  the  enemy  of  our  salva- 
tion, certainly  to  lend  an  ear  to  such  conver- 
sation, and  by  certain  expressive  smiles  to 
promise  a  favourable  attention  to  it,  is  to  de- 
dicate the  ear  to  him.  And  do  not  deceive 
yourselves,  you  will  never  be  able  to  persuade 
such  as  know  the  human  heart,  that  you  love 
virtue,  while  you  take  pleasure  in  hearing 
conversation  injurious  to  virtue.  You  will  be 
told,  and  with  great  reason,  that  you  are  a 
friend  to  nothing  but  the  appearance  of  it. 
Were  virtue  itself  the  object  of  your  esteem, 
you  would  not  keep  company  with  such  as 
wound  it.  But  by  your  hidulgence  of  such 
people,  you  give  us  great  reason  to  presume, 
that  were  not  human  laws  and  worldly  de- 
cency in  your  wav,  you  would  give  yourself 
up  to  tile  practice  of  vice  ;  for,  in  spite  of 
these,  you  take  pleasure  in  beholding  it  when 
appearances  arc  saved,  and  even  disguise  it 
yourself  under  specious  pretexts. 

Farther,  -we  include  in  our  notion  of  im- 
modest conversation,  licentious  song5,  whicli 
lawless  custom  has  rendered  too  familiar ; 
songs  which,  under  a  pretence  of  gratifying  a 
passion  for  vocal  and  instrumental  music,  dis- 
seminate a  thousand  loose,  not  to  say  lascivious 
maxims,  excite  a  thousand  irregular  emo- 
tions, and  cherish  many  criminal  passions.  At- 
tend to  this  article  of  our  discourse,  ye  parents, 
who  idolize  your  children,  children  -whom  ye 
ought  to  dedicate  to  Jesus  Christ,  but  wliom 
ye  lead  into  a  licentiousness  that  is  a  disgrace 
to  your  families.  Music  is  an  art  criminal  or 
innocent  according  to  the  use  made  of  it. 
Those  pious  men  whom  the  holy  Scriptures 
propose  to  us  for  models,  did  not  deny  then>- 
selves  the  enjoyment  of  it ;  but  they  applied  it 
to  proper  subjects.  St.  Paul  even  recom- 
mends it.  '■  Let  the  word  of  Christ  dwell  in 
you  richly  in  all  -wisdom,  teaching  and  ad- 
monishing one  another  in  psalms,  and  hymns, 
and  spiritual  song,-,  singing -with  gr.ace  in  your 
hearts  to  the  Lord,'  Col.  iii  IG.  Thus  also  a 
prophet  formerly  applied  both  his  voice  and 
his  instrument  to  celebrate  the  praises  of  his 
Creator.  '  Awake  up,  my  glory,  awake  psal- 
tery and  harp,  I  myself  will  awake  early.     I 

11  praise  tliee,  O  Lord,  among  the  people; 
I  will  sing  unto  thee  among  tlie  nations.  Sing 
aloud  unto  God  our  strength  ;    make  a  jovful 


■13-Z 


CHRISTIAN  CONVERSATION. 


(Ser.  XLIX 


uoise  unto  {he  Goil  of  Jacob.  Take  a  psalm, 
and  bring  hither  the  timbrel,  the  pleasant  harp, 
"svith  the  psaltery,'  Ps,  Ivii.  8,  9  ;.  and  Ixxxi. 
1,  2,  i-e.  Thus  a  christian  musician  ouj^ht  to 
sing ;  but  never,  never  should  his  mouth  utter 
licentious  verses.  An  unchaste  tongue  is  a 
sad  sign  of  a  depraved  heart.  A  woman  who 
paints  vice  in  colours  so  agreeable,  proves, 
that  she  considers  it  in  a  very  amiable  lisfht, 
and  has  no  objection  to  the  practice  of  it.  For 
my  pnrt,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  persuade  my- 
self that  any  consecrate  their  bodies  to  the 
temples  of  the  Eioly  Ghost,  wlio,  to  use  an  ex- 
pression of  St.  Paul,  make  their  tongues'  mem- 
bers of  an  harlot,'  1  Cor.  vi.  15. 

Slander  and  calumny  are  a  third  defect  of 
conversation,  and  the  third  law  which  our 
apostle  imposes  on  us  in  a  seasoning  of  charity. 
I  freely  acknowledge,  my  brethren,  that  I  can- 
not enter  on  this  article  without  losing  that 
moderation  of  temper,  which  is  necessary  to  a 
preacher  who  would  treat  of  the  subject  pro- 
pei-ly.  Whether  it  be  weakness  of  mind,  or 
self-interest,  or  whether  it  be  the  enormous 
lengths  to  which  you  practise  this  vice  in  this 
2>lace,  too  much  practised,  alas,  every  where  ! 
or  whatever  be  t!ie  cause,  I  can  scarcely  retain 
my  temper ;  for  I  feel  myself  at  once  ready  to 
t'janfound  instruction  with  reproof.  Is  tiiere 
any  character  among  you  so  respectable,  any 
intention  so  innocent,  any  conduct  so  irre- 
proachable, any  piety  so  conspicuous,  as  to 
escape  the  cruelty  of  your  calumniating  con- 
versations ? 

What  shall  I  say  to  you  my  brethren  ?  I 
wish  I  knew  how  to  collect  the  substance  of 
many  sermons  into  this  one  article  :  I  would 
endeavour  to  exhibit  calumny  in  one  small 
portrait,  at  which  yon  might  continually  look, 
and  which  might  perpetually  inspire  youwitli 
holy  horror. 

1.  Consider  this  vice  in  its  source.  Some- 
limes  it  proceeds  from  littleness  of  mind,  for 
there  are  people  who  cannot  converse,  they 
neither  understand  religion  nor  government, 
arts  nor  sciences,  and  their  conversation  would 
languish  and  die  away,  were  not  the  void  filled 
"p  with  a  detail  of  the  real  imperfections  of 
their  neighbours,  or  of  others,  which  the  most 
<:ruel  mali^'mty  ascribes  to  them,  and  the  num- 
ber of  these  always  far  surpasses  that  of  real 
defects.  Sometimes  it  comes  from  pride. 
People  wish  to  be  superior  to  their  neighbours, 
and  not  having  the  noble  courage  to  rise  above 
them  by  the  practice  of  more  virtue,  they  en- 
deavour to  sink  them  by  slanderous  conversa- 
tion. Sometimes  envy  is  the  source.  Tliey 
are  persons  who  place  their  happiness  in  the 
misery  of  others.  A  neighbour's  prosperity 
shocks  them,  his  reputation  wounds  them,  and 
his  rest  is  their  torment.  Sometimes  a  g-uilty 
conscience  generates  slander.  Bad  men  fear 
lest  the  public  eye  should  discover  and  fix  on 
their  own  crimes,  and  they  try  to  prevent  this 
misfortune  by  artfully  turning  the  attention  of 
spectators  from  themselves  to  the  vices  of  their 
lellow-citizcns. 

2.  Consider  the  fatal  consequences  of  slan- 
der. Judge  of  the  hearts  of  others  by  your 
owo.     Wiiat  makes  one  man  invent  a  calum- 


ny, induces  another  to  receive  and  publish  it^. 
As  soon  as  ever  the  voice  of  slander  is  heard, 
a  thousand  echoes  repeat  it,  and  publish  vices 
which  your  want  of  charity,  or  excess  of  in- 
justice, attributed  to  your  neighbour.  What 
renders  this  the  moie  deplorable  is  the  usual 
readiness  of  mankind  to  give  credit  to  calum- 
ny ;  a  readiness  on  the  one  part  to  utter  ca- 
lumny, and  on  the  other  to  believe  it,  over- 
whelm a  neighbour  with  all  the  misery  of  de- 
famation. 

3.  Consider  the  duties  which  they  who  com- 
mit this  crime  bind  themselves  to  perform ; 
duties  so  hard,  that  some  w^ould  rather  die 
than  perform  them,  and  yet  duties  so  indispen- 
sable, that  no  man  can  expect  either  favour 
or  forgiveness  who  neglects  the  discharge  of 
them.  The  first  law  we  impose  on  a  man 
who  has  unjustly  acquired  the  property  of  a 
neighbour,  is  to  restore  it.  The  first  law  we 
impose  on  a  man  who  has  injured  the  reputa- 
tion of  another,  is  to  repair  it.  There  is  a  re- 
stitution of  honour  as  well  us  of  fortune. 
Which  of  you,  now,  who  has  dealt  in  slander, 
dare  form  the  just  and  generous  resolution  of 
going  from  house  to  house  to  publish  his  re- 
tracLions  ?  Who  is  there  among  you,  that  by 
committing  this  sin  doe?  not  hazard  all  his  own 
reputation  ? 

4.  Consider  how  extremely  opposite  this 
sin  is  to  the  law  of  charity.  You  know  the 
whole  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  tends  to  love. 
The  precepts  he  gave,  the  doctrines  he  taught, 
the  worship  he  prescribed,  the  ordinances  he 
instituted,  the  whole  gospel  is  the  breath  of 
love.  But  what  can  be  more  incompatible 
with  love  than  slander!  consequently  who 
deserves  less  the  name  of  Christian  than  a 
slanderer.'' 

5.  Consider  how  many  different ybrms  ca- 
lumny assumes.  In  general  all  the  world 
agree  it  is  one  of  the  most  hateful  vices  :  yet  it 
is  curious  to  see  how  persons  who  declaim  the 
most  loudly  against  this  crime,  practise  it 
themselves.  All  the  world  condemn  it,  and 
all  the  world  slide  into  the  practice  of  it. 
The  reputation  of  our  neighbour  is  not  only 
injured  by  talcs  studied  and  set,  but  an  air,  a 
smile,  a  look,  an  atlected  abruptness,  even  si- 
lence, are  envenomed  darts  shot  at  the  same 
mark,  and  it  will  be  impossible  for  us  to  avoid 
falling  into  the  temptation  of  committing  this 
crime,  unless  we  keep  a  perpetual  watch. 

6  Consider  the  various  illusions,  and  num- 
berless pretexts,  of  which  people  avail  them- 
selves, in  order  to  conceal  from  themselves  the 
turpitude  of  this  crime.  One  pretends  lie 
said  nothing  but  the  truth  ;  as  if  charily  did 
not  oblige  us  to  conceal  the  real  vices  of  a 
neighbour,  as  well  as  not  to  attribute  to  him 
fanciful  ones.  Another  justifies  his  conduct 
by  pretending  he  is  animated  not  by  hatred, 
but  by  eiiuity  ;  as  if  God  had  appointed  every 
individual  to  exercise  vengeance,  and  to  be 
an  executioner  of  hisjudgments;  as  if,  suppos- 
ing the  allegation  true,  a  man  does  not  sia 
against  his  jown  principles  (for  lie  pretends 
equity)  when  he  shows  his  neighbour  in  an 
unfavourable  point  of  view,  by  publishing  his 
imperfections    and    concealing    his    virtues. 


Ser.  XLIX.3 


CHRISTIAN  CONVERSATION. 


433 


Another  excuses  himse]f  by  saying,  that  a'  ' 
the  affair  was  public  he  might  surely  be  per-  ■ 
mitted  to  mention  it;  as  if  charity  was  never  j 
violated  except  by  discovering  unknown  ' 
\'ices  ;  as  if  men  were  not  forbidden  to  relish  • 
that  malicious  pleasure  which  arises  from  i 
talkin  over  the  known  imperfections  of  their  j 
neighbours. 

7.  Consider,  into  what  an  unhappy  situa- 
tion calumny  puis  an  innocent  person,  who 
wishes  to  avoid  if.  What  must  a  man  do  to 
preclude  or  to  put  down  a  calumny?  Che- 
rish good  humour,  paint  pleasure  in  your  face, 
endeavour  by  your  pleasing  deportment  to 
communicate  happiness  to  all  about  you  ;  be, 
if  I  may  speak  so,  the  life  and  soul  of  society, 
and  it  will  be  said,  you  are  not  solid,  you  have 
the  unworthy  ambition  of  becoming  the 
amusement  of  mankind  Put  on  an  austere 
air,  engrave  on  your  countenance,  if  I  may 
speak  thus,  the  great  truths  that  fill  your  soul, 
and  you  will  be  taxed  with  pharisaism  and  hy- 
pocrisy ;  it  will  be  said,  that  you  put  on  a  fair 
outside  to  render  your' elf  venerable,  but  that 
under  all  this  appearance  very  likely  you  con- 
ceal an  impious  irreligious  heart.  Take  a 
middle  way,  regulate  your  conduct  by  limes 
and  places,  '  weep  with  them  that  weep,  and 
rejoice  with  them  that  rejoice,'  and  you  will 
be  accused  of  lu  kewarmness  Pick  your  com- 
pany, confine  yourself  to  a  small  circle,  make 
it  a  law  to  speak  freely  only  to  a  few  select 
friends  who  will  bear  with  your  weaknesses, 
and  who  know  your  good  qualities,  and  you 
will  be  accused  of  pride  and  arrogance  ;  it 
will  be  said,  that  you  think  the  rest  of  man- 
lund  unworthy  of  your  company,  and  that 
you  pretend  vi'isdom  and  taste  are  excluded 
from  all  societies,  except  such  as  you  deign  to 
frequent.  Go  every  where,  and  in  a  spirit  of 
the  utmost  condescension  converse  with  every 
individual  of  mankind,  and  it  will  be  said  you 
are  unsteady,  a  city,  a  province  cannot  satisfy 
you,  you  lay  all  the  universe  under  contribu- 
tion, and  oblige  the  whole  world  to  try  to  sa- 
tiate your  unbounded  love  of  pleasure. 

In  fine,  consider  what  punishment  the  Holy 
Spirit  has  denounced  against  calumny,  and  in 
what  class  of  mankind  he  has  placed  slander- 
ers. You,  who  by  a  prejudice,  which  is  too 
general  a  rule  of  judging,  imagine  3/0M  possess 
nil  virtues,  because  you  are  free  from  one  vice, 
to  use  the  langua'jj-e  of  a  modern  author,*  you, 
who  poison  the  re|)Utation  of  a  neighbour  in 
company,  and  endeavour  thus  to  avenge  your- 
self on  him  for  the  pain  which  his  virtues  give 
you,  in  what  list  has  St.  Paul  put  you  ?  He 
has  classed  you  w;th  misers,  idolaters,  de- 
bauchees, and  adulterers,  'If  any  man  be  a 
fornicator,  or  covetous,  or  an  id<. later,  or  a 
railer,  with  such  a  one  keep  no  company,  no 
not  to  eat,' '  Neither  fornicators  nor  dolaters, 
nor  adulterers,  nor  effeminate,  nor  abusers  of 
themselves  with  mankind,  nor  thieves,  nor  co- 
vetous, nor  drunkards,  nnr  revilers  (this  is 
your  place),  nor  extortioners,  shall  inherit  t'le 
kingdom  of  God,'  1  Cor  v.  11,  and  vi.  9.    But 

*  Flcchier. 


we  judge  of  vice  and  virtue,  not  according  to 
the  rules  laid  down  in  the  gospel,  but  accord- 
ing to  such  as  prevail  in  the  world.  It  is  not 
Jesus  Christ,  it  is  the  world,  that  is  our  sove- 
reign. We  blush  at  what  thej'  censure,  and 
we  feel  no  remorse  at  committing  what  they 
think  fit  to  tolerate.  Ah  !  why  are  not  legisla- 
tors more  indulgent  when  they  condemn  to 
racks  and  gibbets  a  wretch  whom  excess  of 
hunger  impelled  to  steal  our  property  ;  why 
do  they  not  inflict  one  part  of  their  rigour  on 
him,  who,  in  cold  blood,  and  with  infernal  ma- 
lice, robs  us  of  our  reputation  and  honour  1 
Let  your  speech  be  seasoned  with  the  salt  of 
charity. 

Fourthly,  The  apostle  intends  to  inspire  us 
with  a  seasoning  ofsenen'/j/,  and  to  banish  from 
our  conversations  a  fourth  vice,  which  we 
have  named  extravagant  complaisance.  When 
is  complaisance  extravagant.''  Are  we  going 
to  pass  encomiums  on  such  untoward  spirits  as 
disturb  all  mankind  :  on  such  superstitious 
niartyrs  of  truth  and  virtue  as  render  them- 
selves impertinent  by  affecting  regularity,  such 
as  represent  piety  under  an  appearance  so 
frightful  that  it  cannot  be  taken  for  piety,  and 
give  it  an  air  so  hideous  that  it  is  impossible  to 
love  it .''  No,  my  brethren.  In  this  article 
we  deplore  a  frailty  too  common  among  the 
best  Christians.  We  fall  into  a  circle  of  bad 
company,  we  hear  them  blaspheme  the  name 
of  God,  attack  religion,  profane  the  most  holy 
mysteries,  and  calumniate  innocence.  We 
tremble  at  this  conversation,  and  fi-om  the 
bottom  of  our  souls  detest  it ;  our  spirit  is 
stirred  in  us,  we  are  like  St.  Paul,  when  he 
saw  the  Athenian  idolatry,  but  we  conceal  our 
pious  indignation,  we  dare  not  openly  avow 
it,  we  even  embolden  the  criminal  by  infirmi- 
ty, though  not  by  inclination. 

A  Christian  ought  to  know  how  to  unfurl 
the  banner  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  as,  in  times  of 
persecution,  a  man  was  reputed  ashamed  of 
his  faith,  and  guilty  of  idolatry  by  silence  and 
neutrality;  as  the  casting  of  a  single  grain  of 
incense  on  the  altar  of  an  idol  was  accounted 
an  act  of  apostacy,  so  when  the  emissaries  of 
vice  attack  religion  on  the  practical  side,  a 
man  ought  to  say,  {  am  a  Christian  ;  he  ought 
not  to  be  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ;  he 
ought  to  restrain  the  infidel,  repress  the  liber- 
tine, resist  the  calumniator. 

Finally,  perpetual  voids  are  a  fifth  defect  of 
conversation,  and  a  fifth  duty  prescribed  to  us 
IS  a  seasoning  of  solidity.  It  is  Jesus  Christ 
himself  who  furnishes  us  with  this  reflection, 
by  informing  us  in  the  gospel,  that  we  must 
give  an  account  lor  '  every  idle  word.  In  or- 
der to  profit  by  this  declaration  we  must  un- 
derstand it,  and  in  order  to  understand  it,  we 
must  avoid  two  extremes  equally  opposite  to 
the  design  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  we 
must  neither  give  the  passage  a  sense  too  rig- 
orous nor  too  lax. 

First,  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ  must  not 

be  taken  in  a  sense  too  rigorous.    He  does  not 

mean     by   '  idle    words'  those  discourses,  of 

which    we  do  not  immediately   per-ceive   the 

I  utility,  but  which,  however,  are  unavoiuat)le 


»i34 


CHRISTIAN    CONVERSATION. 


[Skr.  XLIX. 


in  an  intercourse  with  mankind.  There  are 
two  ways  of  proving  that  our  Saviour  had  not 
in  view  this  sort  of  conversation. 

1.  It  should  seem,  by  examining  the  origin- 
al, that  the  jiassage  ought  to  be  rendered  not 
idle  words,  'but  wicked  words.  Many  exjiosi- 
tors  adopt  this  sense,  a  id  affirm,  that  the 
Greek  word  here  used,  answers  to  a  Hebrew 
•word,  which  signifies  hoihuseltss  and  wicked.* 
We  are  certain  the  writers  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament frequently  use  Greek  words  in  a  He- 
brew sense.  As  then  the  Hebrew  word  signi- 
fies wicked  and  useless,  these  expositors  thought 
they  had  a  right  to  translate  the  word  wicked, 
not  idle.  Moreover,  they  add,  that  the  ori- 
ginal Greek  word  has  this  meaning,  and  is  fre- 
quently taken  in  an  active  sense  (forgive  this 
technical  term),  and  not  always  in  a  passive, 
in  good  authors ;  that  is,  it  does  not  mean 
only  that  which  is  not  directed  to  any  good 
end,  but  that  which  actually  defeats  a  good 
design  Thus  Cicero,  speaking  of  the  oppo- 
nents of  the  Stoics,  says,  they  accuse  the  doc- 
trine of  their  philosophers  concerning  fate,  of 
being  an  idle  doctrine  ;  he  uses  the  same  term 
that  is  used  in  the  passage  we  are  considering, 
and  he  means,  by  an  idle  doctrine,  a  doctrine 
which  encourages  idleness.  For,  say  the  ene- 
mies of  the  Stoics,  if  a  blind  fate  produces 
otir  virtues  and  vices,  all  our  efforts  are  use- 
less, and  we  may  waste  our  lives  in  idleness. 
By  ■  idle  words,'  then,  Jesus  Christ  means  to 
forbid,  not  words  merely  useless,  but  words 
which  have  a  bad  tendency,  as  those  had 
which  attributed  the  miracles  of  Christ  to  ma- 

There  is  a  second  way  of  restraining  the 
meaning  of  Jesus  Christ.  Let  us  retain  the 
term  idle,  used  in  our  version,  and  let  us  ex- 
plain this  passage  as  we  explain  all  other 
passages  in  Scripture  whic!i  forbid  idleness. 
When  the  Scripture  enjoins  us  to  labour, 
does  it  mean  that  we  should  be  always  at 
work !  When  it  forbids  us  to  be  idle,  does 
it  mean  to  disallow  relaxation  and  rest  I  Does 
it  blame  an  honest  recreation  !  No.  It  con- 
demns only  such  as  consume  all  their  life  in 
inaction.  Thus  here,  Jesus  Christ,  by  con- 
demning idle  words  does  not  mean  those  in- 
nocent conversations  which  we  have  observed 
are  necessary,  but  he  means  such  as  are  made 
up  of  nothing  but   vanity  and  unprofitableness. 

Let  us,  however,  carefully  avoid  giving  a 
loose  sense  to  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ.  He 
allows  vague  and  superficial  conversation 
only  as  he  allows  idleness.  He  means  that,  in 
general,  our  conversation  should  turn  on  grave 
and  useful  subjects. 

We  generally  persuade  ourselves  that 
churches  and  closets  are  the  only  places  where 
we  ought  to  employ  ourselves  about  solid 
subjects.  Let  us  undeceive  ourselves.  We 
•ought  to  attend  to  sucli  subjects  even  while 
we  are  in  pursuit  of  pleasure.  For  exam-  | 
])le,  are  we  returning  from  a  sermon  1  AVhy 
not  entertain  one  another  with  the  subject- 
we  have  been  hearing  !  Why  not  endeavou. 
to  imprint  on  one   another's    memories  the 

'  r.e  CIcrc  In  Hammond  on  MaU.  xii.  26. 


truths  that  have  been  proved,  and  to  impress 
on  on^  another's  hearts  such  precepts  as  have 
been  enforced  ?  Have  we  been  visiting  a  dy- 
ing person?  Why  not  make  such  reflections 
as  naturally  occur  on  such  occasions  the  mat- 
ter of  our  conversation .''  Why  not  embrace 
such  a  fair  opportunity  of  speaking  on  the 
vanity  of  life,  the  uncertainly  of  wordly  en- 
joyments, and  the  happiness  of  a  pious  de- 
parture to  resti"  Have  we  been  reading  a 
good  book .'  Why  not  converse  with  our 
companions  on  the  formation  we  have  derived 
from  it.''  Are  we  ministers  of  religion.''  Sure- 
ly there  is  great  propriety  in  entertaining  our 
friends  with  the  subjects  wkich  we  teach  in 
publick,  and  investigate  in  our  studies.  Why 
should  we  not  apply  them  to  tlie  benefit  of 
such  as  surround  us  f  Why  not  endeavour  to 
subdue  that  resistance  which  the  wretched 
hearts  of  mankind  make  to  the  truths  of  re- 
ligion ?  Were  these  rules  observed,  each  com- 
pany would  become  a  school  of  instruction, 
the  more  useful  because  the  more  natural  and 
easv,  and  knowledge  and  virtue  would  be  mu- 
tually cherished. 

What !  say  some,  would  you  prohibit  all  the 
pleasure  of  life .''  Must  we  never  open  our 
mouths  but  to  utter  sententious  discourses? 
Would  you  condemn  us  to  eternal  melancho- 
ly ?  Ah  !  this  is  a  gross  error.  Pleasure  is  in- 
compatible with  piety  ;  Is  it .'  What !  is  piety 
so  offensive  to  you  that  it  spoils  all  your  plea- 
sure if  it  only  makes  its  appearance  .■' 

After  all,  what  pleasure  can  those  vain  con- 
versations afford,  which  consume  the  greatest 
part  of  life  .'  Had  we  been  always  sequestered 
from  the  rest  of  mankind,  perhaps  we  might 
imagine  that  the  confused  noise  made  by  a 
company  of  talkers  about  nothing  might  give 
pleasure ;  but  who  that  has  seen  the  world 
can  fall  into  this  error  ?  What  !  superficial  chat 
about  ihe  most  common  appearances  of  nature '. 
'['iresome  tittle  tattle  about  the  sun  and  the 
rain  I  Ill-timed  visits,  perpetually  returning, 
always  a  burden  to  those  who  pay,  and  to 
those  who  receive  them  !  Are  these  the  plea- 
sures which  you  prefer  before  a  sensible  use- 
ful conversation  !  Puerde  mistake !  It  is  the 
solid  sense  and  utility  of  a  conversation  that 
make  the  pleasure  of  it.  '  Let  your  speech  be 
always  seasoned  with  salt.' 

Let  us  proceed  to  examine  the  other  term, 
grace.  St.  Paul  says, '  Let  your  speech  be 
always  with  grace.'  V/e  have  before  intima- 
ted, that  the  apostle  means  by  the  word  grace, 
agreeableness,  gracefulness.  The  word  grace, 
we  allow,  must  often  be  taken  in  Scripture  in 
a  very  different  sense  ;  but  two  reasons  deter- 
mine us  to  take  it  here  in  this  sense.  1.  The 
nature  of  the  thing.  It  was  natural  for  the 
apostle,  after  he  had  spoken  of  what  sanctifies 
conversation,  to  speak  of  what  renders  it  in- 
iuiuating.  2.  The  word  is  often  taken  in  this 
sense  in  Scripture.  Thus  the  Wise  Man  says, 
•  Grace  is  deceitlul,  and  beauty  is  vain,'  Prov. 
xxxi.30.  And  thus  the  psalmist,  '  Grace  is 
Hiured  into  thy  lips,"'  Ps.  xlv.  2. 


*  Our  author  follows  the  reading  of  his  own  French 
version  in  Prov.  xxxi.  ."^0.    '  La  grare  trompe,  et  la 


S£R.  XLIX.] 


CHRISTIAN  COx^VERSATION. 


4iio 


But  what  is  ihis  grace?  I  think  we  must 
have  observed,  that  the  disagreeableness  of 
conversation  generally  proceeds  from  on,^  oi 
these  five  causes  ;  either  from  extravagant 
raillery,  or  from  proud  decisions,  or  from  bit- 
ter disputes,  or  from  invincible  obstinacy,  or 
from  indiscreet  questions.  Against  these  five 
vices  we  oppose  five  virtues,  or  to  use  the  Ian 
guage  of  the  text,  five  sorts  of  graces,  which 
render  conversation  charmm^' :  the  grace  of 
complaisance,  the  grace  oi  humility,  the  grace 
of  moderation,  the  grace  of  docility,  aiid  the 
grace  of  discretion.  These  we  call  the  graces, 
the  embellishments  of  conversation. 

1.  Extravagant  raillery  generally  jjoisons 
conversation.  Who  can  bear  to  be  turned 
into  ridicule .''  Who  likes  to  have  his  own 
foibles  exposed  ?  Who  would  choose  to  be 
the  subject  of  the  wit  of  a  company,  especially 
when,  not  l^eing  able  to  return  wit  for  wit,  a 
man  is  obliged  tacitly  to  own  himself  a  genius 
inferior  to  those  who  attack  him  .■'  Abstract 
reasonings  are  not  necessary  to  make  this  arti- 
cle plain.  We  appeal  only  to  the  feelings  of 
such  as  make  a  tra<le  of  rallying  others.  How 
is  it,  pray,  that  you  cannot  bear  to  be  rallied 
in  your  turn?  Whence  that  gloomy  silence  ? 
How  is  it,  that  your  vivacity  is  extinct,  and 
your  spirits  damped,  unless  you,  as  well  as  the 
rest  of  mankind,  love  to  be  respected? 

We  would  substitute  complaisance  in  tlie 
place  of  extravagant  raillery.  Instead  of 
making  a  little  genius  feel  his  insignificance, 
we  should  stoop  to  his  size.  Courtiers  under- 
stand this  art  well,  and  they  know  as  well 
when  to  make  use  of  it,  either  to  obtain  the  es- 
teem of  a  superior,  or  to  acquire  the  friend- 
ship of  an  inferior,  or  an  equal.  See  with 
what  address  they  show  you  to  yourselves  by 
your  bright  sides.  Observe  with  what  dexte- 
rity they  entertain  you  with  what  you  are 
pleased  and  interested  in.  And  shall  Chris- 
tian charity  yield  to  worldly  politeness? 

2.  A  second  vice  that  poisons  conversation 
ii  proud  decision.  Whnt  can  be  more  inlolf^- 
rable  than  a  man  who  stalks  into  company  as 
a  genius  of  the  first  order,  v/ho  lays  down  his 
own  infallibility  as  a  first  principle,  who  deli- 
vers out  his  nostrums  as  infallible  oracles,  as 
the  decisions  of  a  judicature  so  high  that  it 
would  be  criminal  to  appeal  from  them? 
What  aggravates  the  injustice  of  this  character 
is,  that  these  peremptory  people  are  generally 
the  most  ignorant ;  and  that  their  ignorance 
is  the  cause  of  their  positiveness.  A  little  ig- 
norant genius,  who  has  never  gone  to  the  bot- 
tom of  any  one  article  of  science,  who  knows 
neither  the  objections  that  lie  against  a  sub- 
ject, nor  the  arguments  that  support  it,  who 
knows  nothing  but  the  surface  of  any  thing, 


beautfl  s'cvanouit.'  Our  translation  reads,  '  Favour 
is  deceitful,  and  beauty  is  vain  ;'  but  critics  render 
the  original  word,  gratia,  gratio.sitas,  vetustas,  mo- 
rum,  sernionum,  actionum,  gestuum  So  that  Mr.  S. 
may  be  justified  in  giving  this  sense  to  the  text.  In 
the  same  sense,  it  would  seem,  is  that  famous  passage 
in  John  i  17,  '  grace  and  truth  came  by  Jesus  (Christ,' 
to  be  taken.  G?y«c signifies  here  atTability,  sweet- 
ness of  deportment,  propriety  of  behaviour,  conform- 
ity between  the  good  news  he  brought,  and  the  grace- 
ful manner  in  which  he  delivered  the  message. 


quickly  fancies  that  lie  perfectly  comprehends, 
and  can  fully  ascertain,  the  subject  of  his  at- 
tention. He  does  not  know  what  it  is  to 
doubt,  and  he  pities  those  who  do.  On  the 
contrary,  a  man  of  real  knowledge  knows  so 
well  by  his  own  exuerience  the  weakness  of 
the  human  mind,  and  so  thoroughly  under- 
stands his  own  defects,  that  he  keeps  in  him- 
self a  counterpoise  for  pride  ;  he  proposes  his 
opinions  only  as  problems  to  be  examined,  and 
not  as  decisions  to  be  obeyed.  This  is  what 
we  call  the  grace  of  humility.  A  man  ought 
to  submit  hi?  judgment  to  the  discussion  of 
those  to  whom  he  proposes  it ;  'le  should  allow 
every  one  a  liberty  of  thinking  for  himself, 
and  presuppo.*e,  that  if  he  has  reason,  so  have 
others  ;  that  if  he  has  learning  others  have  it 
too;  that  if  he  has  meditated  on  a  subject,  so 
have  others.  Even  subjects,  of  the  truth  of 
which  we  are  most  fully  persuaded,  ought  to 
be  so  proposed  a?  to  convince  people  that  it  is 
n  love  of  truth,  and  not  a  high  conceit  of  our- 
selves, that  makes  us  speak,  and  ttius  wc 
sh'>uld  ex^mplifv  the  rule  laid  down  by  an 
apostle, '  Let  nothing  be  done  through  strife  or 
vain-glory;  but  in  lowliness  c"  mind  let  each 
esteem  other  better  than  themselves,''  Phil, 
li.  3. 

3.  A  bitter  spirit  of  disputing  is  a  third  vice 
of  conversation.  Yield  instantly,  yield  even 
when  you  have  reason  on  your  side,  rest  satis- 
fied with  knowing  the  truth  yourself,  when 
they  to  whom  you  propose  it  wilfully  shut 
their  eyes  against  it.  The  reason  of  this  max- 
im is  this :  When  a  man  refuses  to  admit  u 
proposition  sufficiently  demonstrated,  '  the 
mm-e  you  press  him,  the  farther  he  will  recede 
from  you.  The  principle  that  induces  him  to 
cavil  is  pride,  and  not  weakness  of  capacity  ; 
if  you  persist  in  showing  him  the  truth,  you 
will  irritate  his  pride  by  confounding  it ; 
whereas,  if  you  give  his  passion  time  to  cool 
and  subside,  pe  haps  he  will  return  of  himself 
and  renounce  his  error. 

St  Paul  was  an  excellent  model  of  this 
grace  of  moderalion,  ■  unto  Jews  he  became  as 
a  Jew.  to  them  that  were  without  law  as  with- 
out law,  all  things  to  all  men,'  1  Cor.  ix.  20, 
Why?  was  it  idlenes?  or  cowardice  ?  Neither  ; 
for  never  was  servant  more  zealous  f.ir  the  in- 
terest of  his  master,  never  did  soldier  figlit 
with  more  courage  for  h;s  prince.  It  was  ow- 
ing to  his  moderation  and  charity.  Unto  the 
Jews  I  '  ecame  as  a  Jew,  '  that  I  might  gain 
the  Jews  ;'  to  them  that  are  without  law  as 
without  law, '  that  I  might  by  all  means  save 
some.' 

4.  Obstinacy  is  incompatible  with  the  grace 
of  docility,  a.  necessary  ingredient  in  agreeable 
conversation.  To  persist  in  maintaining  a  pro- 
position because  we  have  advanced  it,  to 
choose  rather  to  heap  up  one  absurdity  upon 
an-'thf;r  than  to  give  up  the  first,  to  be  de- 
ceived a  thousand  times  rather  than  to  say 
once,  I  am  mistaken  ;  what  can  be  more  con- 
trary to  good  manners  in  conversation  than 
these  dispositions?  It  is  a  high  enjoyment  to 
open  one's  eyes  to  the  light  when  it  rises  on 
us,  and  to  testify  by  a  sincere  recantation  that 
we  proposed  our  opinions  rather  v.'ith  a  desire 


43ti 


CHRISTIAN  C0NVER3ATI0N. 


[Ser.  LXIX. 


to  be  instructed  in  what  we  did  not  know,  than 
to  display  our  abilities  in  what  we  did  under- 
stand. 

Finally,  indiscreet  questions  are  a  fifth  pest 
of  conversation  ;  questions  which  put  a  man's 
mind  upon  the  raclc,  and  reduce  liim  to  the 
painful  dilemma  either  of  not  answering,  or  of 
betraying  his  secrets.  Too  much  ea;jerness  to 
pry  into  other  men's  concerns  is  frequently 
more  intolerable  than  indifference  ;  and  to  de- 
termine, in  spite  of  a  njan,  to  be  his  confidant, 
is  to  discover  more  indiscreet  curiosity  than 
Christian  charity.  St.  Paul  reproved  the  wi- 
dows of  his  time  tor  this  vice,  and  in  them  all 
succeeding  Christians.  *  Younger  widows 
learn  to  be  idle,  and  not  only  idle,  but  tattlers 
also,  and  busy  bodies,  speaking  things  which 
they  ought  not,'  1  Tim.  v.  11.  13.  The  grace 
opposite  to  this  vice  is  disereiion. 

My  brethren,  the  truths  you  have  been 
hearing  are  of  tlie  number  of  those  to  which 
in  general  the  least  attention  is  paid.  Few 
people  have  ideas  of  piety  so  refined  as  to  in- 
clude the  duties  which  we  have  been  inculca- 
ting. Few  people  put  into  the  list  of  their 
sins  to  be  repented  of,  the  vices  we  have  been 
reproving,  fev/  therefore  are  concerned  about 
them.  Yet  there  are  many  motives  to  engage 
lis  to  use  extreme  caution  in  our  conversations. 
I  will  just  mention  a  few. 

First,  vices  ol  conversation  are  daily  sins ; 
they  are  repeated  till  they  form  a  habit ;  bj' 
slow  degrees  they  impair  and  destroy  con- 
science ;  and  in  a  manner  the  more  dangerous, 
because  the  process  is  imperceptible,  and  be- 
cause little  or  no  pains  are  taken  to  prevent  it. 
Great  crimes  have  a  character  of  horror, 
which  throws  us  off  at  a  distance,  li  we  hap- 
pen to  be  surprised  into  a  commission  of  them 
through  our  own  weakness,  the  soul  is  ter- 
rified, repentance  instantly  follows,  and  repe- 
tition is  not  very  common :  but  in  the  case  be- 
fore us,  sin  makes  some  progress  every  day, 
every  day  the  enemy  of  our  salvation  obtains 
some  advantages  over  us,  every  day  venders 
wore  difficur  and  impracticable  the  great 
•work,  for  which  we  were  created. 

Secondly,  by  practising  these  vices  of  con- 
versation we  give  great  ground  of  suspicion 
to  others,  and  we  ought  to  be  pei-suaded  our- 
selves, that  our  hearts  are  extremely  deprav- 
ed. It  is  in  vain  to  pretend  to  exculpate  our- 
selves by  pretending  that  these  are  only 
words,  that  words  are  but  air,  empty  sounds 
without  effect.  No,  says  Jesus  Christ,  '  out 
of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth 
speaketh,'  Matt,  xii,  34.  Hence  this  saying 
ol  St.  Chrysostom,  The  tongue  often  blushts  to 
xpeak  what  the  heart  dictates ;  but  the  heart 
having  no  witness,  gives  itself  up  to  irregular 
passion.  It  is  onltf  owing  to  a  superfluity  of 
depravity  within,  that  the  tongue  renders  it 
visible*  If  then  our  reputation  be  dear  to 
us,  if  we  have  at  heart  the  edification  of  our 
neighbours,  if  we  wish  to  assure  our  hearts 
that  we  are  upright  in  the  sight  of  God,  who 
continually  sees  and  thoroughly  knows  us,  let 
our  conversation  be  a  constant  and  irreproach- 
able witness. 

*  Chrysostom   torn.  i.  Horn.  43.  iu  Matth. 


Lastly,  the  judgment  of  God  should  be  a 
prevalent  motive  with  us.  You  have  heard 
it  from  the  mouth  of  J*^5us  Christ.  You  will 
be  required  to  'give  an  account  in  the  day  of 
judgment  for  every  idlf  word.  For  by  thy 
words  thou  shalt  bejustified,  and  by  thy  words 
thou  slialt  be  condemned,'  >!att.  xii.  36,  37. 
VVe  judge  of  our  conversations  only  by  the 
impressions  they  make  on  our  minds,  and  as 
they  seem  to  us  only  as  sounds  lost  in  the  air, 
we  persuade  ourselves  they  cannot  materially 
affect  our  eternal  state.  But  let  us  beheve 
eternal  truth ;  '  by  thy  words  thou  shalt  be 
justified,  and  by  thy  words  thou  shalt  be  con- 
demned.' Dreadful  thought !  For  which  of 
us  can  recollect  all  the  vain  words  he  has  ut- 
tered the  last  ten  years  ^  They  are  gone  along 
with  the  revolutions  of  time,  they  expired 
the  moment  they  were  born.  Yet  they  are 
all,  all  registered  in  a  faithful  memory,  they 
are  all,  all  written  in  a  book ;  they  will  be  all 
one  day  brought  to  our  remembrance,  they 
will  be  weig'ned  in  the  balance  of  the  sanctu- 
ary, and  will  contribute  in  that  day  to  fix  our 
eternal  doom.  '  O  Lord  !  enter  not  into  judg- 
ment with  thy  servant !  O  God !  cleanse 
thou  me  from  secret  faults;'  Ps.  cxliii.  2, 
and  xix.  l\L  These  are  three  motives  to  an- 
imate us  to  practise  the  duty  under  considera- 
tion. We  will  add  three  rules,  to  help  us  tlie 
more  easily  to  discharge  it. 

1.  If  we  would  learn  to  season  our  conver- 
sation, we  must  choose  our  company.  This 
is  often  disputed  ;  however,  we  atfirm,  confor- 
mity of  manners  is  the  bond  of  this  commerce. 
Seldom  does  a  man  pass  his  life  with  a  slan- 
derer without  calumniating.  Few  people, 
keep  company  with  libertines  unless  they 
be  profligate  themselves.  Example  carries  us 
away  iu  spite  of  ourselves.  A  pagan  po- 
et advanced  this  maxim,  and  St.  Paul,  by 
quoting,  has  consecrated  it.  '  Evil  communi- 
cations corrupt  good  manners,'  1  Cor.  xv. 
33.  Let  us  begin  a  reformation  of  our  conver- 
sation by  selecting  our  companies.  Let  us 
break  with  the  enemies  of  God.  Let  us  dread 
the  contagion  of  poison,  and  avoid  the  manu- 
facturers of  it.  As  th^re  is  no  sinner  so  ob- 
stinate as  not  to  be  moved  by  an  intercourse 
with  good  men,  so  there  is  no  virtue  so  well 
established  as  not  to  be  endangered  by  an  in- 
timacy with  the  wicked. 

2.  A  second  great  secret  in  conversation  is 
the  art  of  silence.  To  talk  a  great  deal,  and 
to  reflect  on  all  that  is  said,  are  two  things  in- 
compatible, and  certainly  we  cannot  speak 
wisely,  if  we  speak  without  reflection.  The 
Book  of  Ecciesiasticus  advises  us  to  '  make  a 
door  and  a  bar  for  the  mouth,'  chap,  xxviii. 
•25.  •  The  Ibol,'  said  the  Wise  Man,  '  is  full 
of  words,'  Eccles.  x.  14.  'I  will  take  heed 
to  my  ways,  that  I  sin  not  with  my  tongue. 
I  will  keep  my  mouth  with  a  bridle.'  An  an- 
cient hermit  abused  this  maxim  ;  for,  after  he 

i  had  heard  the  first  verse  of  the  thirty-ninth 
j  ijsalm,  he  refused  to  hear  the  second,  saying, 
the  first  vi'as  lesson  sufficient  for  him.  The 
reader  of  this  verse  to  him  asked  him  many 
I  years  after  whether  he  had  learnt  to  reduce 
'  this  lesson  in  oraclif'c.     ^'■•'inetetn  years,  repli- 


rER.  L.'j 


THE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALMS'. 


457 


0(1  the  hermit,  have  I  benn  trying;,  and  have 
hardly  attained  the  practice.  But  there  was 
some  reason  in  the  conduct  of  this  hermit, 
though  he  carried  the  matter  to  excess.  In 
order  to  speak  well,  we  must  speak  but  little, 
remembering;  always  the  maxim  of  St.  .lames, 
'  If  any  man  seem  to  be  religious,  and  bridleth 
not  his  tongue,  this  man's  religion  is  vain,' 
'■hap.  i.  26. 

In  fine,  the  great  rule  to  govern  the  tongue 
is  to  govern  the  heart.  '  Keep  thy  heart 
with  all  diligence,  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues 
o{  life,'  Prov.  iv.  23-  In  vain  do  you  strive 
(o  prevent  effects,  unless  you  remove  the 
cause.  It  is  in  vain  to  purify  the  streams, 
while  the  spring  continues  polluted.  It  is  in 
vain  to  attempt  a  few  forced  actions,  like  those 
mentioned  by  the  psalmist, '  whose  words  were 
softer  than  oil,  when  war  was  in  their  heart,' 
Ps.  Iv.  21.  It  is  extremely  difficult  to  act 
long  under  constraint.  The  heart  insensibly 
guides  the  tongue.  Would  you  avoid  rash 
judging,  obscenity,  calumny,  faAvning,  all  the 


vices  of  which  we  have  shown  the  enormity, 
begin  with  your  own  heart.  There  establish 
the  love  of  God.  Love  piety,  respect  virtue, 
and  talk  as  you  will,  you  cannot  but  speak 
well. 

Let  us  feel  these  motives,  my  brethren. 
Let  us  obey  these  rules.  I^et  us  practise 
tlicse  duties.  Let  us  blush  for  having  so  long 
lived  in  the  neglect  of  them.  Henceforth  let 
us  dedicate  our  voices  to  the  praise  of  our  Cre- 
ator. Let  us  praise  God.  To  praise  God  is 
the  noblest  of  all  employments.  To  praise 
God  is  the  incessant  employment  of  all  the 
angels  in  heaven.  To  praise  God  must  be 
our  eternal  exercise.  Let  us  this  instant,  on 
the  spot,  begin  to  reduce  this  new  plan  of 
conversation  to  practice.  Let  us  cry,  with 
blessed  spirits.  Holy,  holy,  holy  is  the  Lorcl 
God  of  hosts  :  and  let  these  first  fruits  of  holy 
conversation  consecrate  all  the  remainder  of 
life.  God  grant  us  this  grace.  To  Father, 
Son,  and  Spirit,  be  honour  and  glory  forever ! 
Amen. 


SERMON   li. 


THE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALxMS. 


Luke  xi.  41, 


Give  alms  of  such  things  as  you  have. 


Our  churches  are  houses  of  God  :  places 
where  he  bestows  his  favours  in  richest  pro-  , 
fusion.  Indeed  his  omnipresence  cannot  be  1 
confined  ;  heaven,  and  the  heaven  of  heavens 
cannot  contain  him,  the  whole  universe  is  the 
theatre  of  his  liberality.  It  is,  however,  in 
his  churches'  that  he  affords  the  most  distin- 
guishing proofs  of  his  presence,  and  opens  his 
most  magnificent  treasures.  Hence  Solomon, 
after  he  had  erecte<3  that  superb  palace  descri- 
bed in  the  first  book  of  Kings,  addressed  this 
prayer  to  God,  '  May  thine  eyes  be  open  to- 
ward this  house  night  and  day,  even  toward 
the  place  of  which  thou  hast  said.  My  name 
shall  be  there.  When  thy  people  Israel  shall 
pray  toward  this  place,  when  they  are  smit- 
ten down  before  the  enemy  ;  when  heaven  is 
shut,  and  there  is  no  rain  ;  when  there  be  in 
the  land  famine,  pestilence  and  blasting ;  when 
they  pray  toward  this  place,  when  they  spread 
forth  their  hands  toward  this  house,  then  hear 
thou  in  heaven,  thy  dwelling-place,'  1  Kings 
viii.  27.  29,  &c.  Let  us  not  imagine  all  these 
prerogatives  were  confined  to  the  temple  of 
Jerusalem.  They  are  in  our  churches.  Al- 
ways when  we  assemble  in  this  place  we  con- 
duct you  to  the  tribunal  of  God,  and  say  to 
you,  in  the  language  of  eternal  wisdom,  '  IIo, 
every  one  that  thirstcth,  come  ye  to  the  waters, 
and  he  that  bath  no  money,  come  ye,  buy  and 

f?  K 


eat :  buy  wine  and  milk  v.'ithout  money  and 
without  price,'  Isa.  Iv.  1. 

To-day, Christians,  this  house  changes  its  ap- 
pearance. It  is  no  more  a  superb  palace,  the 
seat  of  riches  and  abundance.  It  is  an  alsKS" 
house.  It  is,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so,  a 
general  hospital,  in  which  are  assembled  all 
those  poor,  all  those  indigent  widows  and  des- 
titute orphans,  all  those  famished  old  people, 
who  were  born  in  your  provinces,  or  who, 
through  the  calamities  of  the  times,  have  been 
driven  to  your  coasts,  and  permitted  to  reside 
here.  What  a  siglit !  To-day  God  takes  the 
place  of  mao,  and  man  that  of  God.  God 
asks,  and  man  answers.  God  begs,  and  man 
bestows.  God  sets  before  us  heaven,  grace, 
and  glory ;  and  from  his  high  abode,  where 
he  dwells  among  the  praises  of  the  blessed, 
he  solicits  your  charity,  and  says  to  you,  by 
our  mouth,'  '  Give  alms  of  such  thing:s  as 
you    have.' 

What  opportunity  more  proper  can  we  have 
to  preach  charity  to  you  ?  For  several  weeks 
these  arches  have  resounded  with  the  greatest 
benevolence  that  was  ever  heard  of.''  Your 
preachers  have  fixed  your  attention  on  that 
great  sacrifice  by  which  men  are  reconciled  to 
God,  so  that  if  we  be  so  happy  to  day  as  to 

*  The  Weeks  of  Lent. 


438 


llIE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALM,^, 


[Skr-.  L. 


touch  your  hearts,  there  will  be  a  harmony  i 
between  love  and  charity,  between  the  Crea-  j 
tor  and  the  creature.  '  The  heavens  will  iiear  j 
the  earth,  and  the  earth  will  hear  the  hea- 
veils,'  IIos.  ii.  2-i.  Heaven  will  say  to  the 
fuithl'ul  soul,  'Behold  the  Lamb  of  God, 
which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world,' 
John  i.  29,  and  the  faithful  soul,  properly 
affected  with  gratitude,  v.'ill  reply,  '  O  God, 
my  g^oodiiess  extendclh  tiot  to  thee,  but  to  the 
saints  that  are  in  the  earth,'  Ps.  xvi.  23,  and 
will  pour  upon  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ  that 
ointment  which  cannot  be  put  upon  the  head 
of  Christ  himself.  My  brethren  assist  our  fee- 
ble ertbrts.  And  thou,  O  God,  who  a.rt  love 
itself,  animate  every  part,  every  period,  eve- 
ry expression  of  this  discourse,  so  that  all 
our  hearers  may  become  disciples  of  love ! 
Amen. 

'  Give  alms  of  such  things  as  you  have ;' 
these  are  the  words  of  our  text,  the  gospel  of 
this  day.  We  will  not  detain  you  in  cojnpa- 
ring  the  words  of  our  translation  with  those 
of  the  original,  in  order  to  justify  our  inter- 
preters. Some  expositors  think  the  text  is 
not  an  exhortation  to  cliarity,  but  a  censure 
on  the  Pi;ari5ees  for  their  notion  of  it.  After 
the  Pliarisees  had  obtained  great  sums  by  ra- 
pine and  extortion,  they  endeavouied  to  con- 
ceal, yea,  to  embellish  their  crimes  by  alms- 
deeds.  According  to  these  interpreters,  Je- 
sus Christ  only  intended  to  condemn  these  in- 
famous practices,  so  that  instead  of  reading 
the  words,  as  we  do,  '  give  alms  of  such 
things  as  ye  have,'  we  ought  to  read  them, 
Ye  give  alms  of  such  things  as  ye  have,  and 
ye  suppose  all  things  are  clean  to  you. 

But  this  interpretation,  whiqh  is  in  itself  a 
striking  truth,  ought,  however,  to  be  rejected, 
as  neither  being  agreeable  to  the  scope  of  the 
place,  nor  the  literal  sense  of  the  words,  which 
are  followed  by  a  precept,  nor  to  ancient  ver- 
s'ons,  nor  to  the  following  words,  '  all  thnigs 
shall  be  clean  to  you,'  which  carries  in  it  the 
nature  of  a  promise,  and  which  must  there- 
fore be  naturally  joined  to  a  precept. 

Let  us  then  retain  the  sense  of  our  version, 
and  let  us  take  the  words  for  an  order  of 
our  Master  prescribing  cliarity.  fie  address- 
ed this  order  to  the  Pharisees,  and  in  them 
to  all  Christians.  The  Pharisees  were  a  class 
of  men,  who  loved  show)'  virtues,  and  who 
thought  by  discharging  small  duties  to  make 
amends  for  the  omission  of  great  and  impor- 
tant ones.  'Jesus  Christ  reproves  them  in 
this  chapter  ;  '  Ye  Pharisees  make  clean  the 
outside  of  the  cup  and  the  platter ;  but  your 
inward  part  is  full  of  ravening  and  wicked- 
ness.' They  tithed  mint  and  rue,  and  all  man- 
ner of  herbs,  but  they  neglected  charity.  On 
another  occasion  we  have  observed,  that  they 
resembled  some  modern  Christians,  who  put 
on  the  air  of  piety,  lift  their  eyes  to  heaven, 
besprinkle  our  churches  with  tears/utter  their 
souls  in  perpetual  sighs  and  complaints,  and 
incessantly  cry  religion  I  religion  !  but  who 
know  charity  only  by  the  pain  they  feel  when 
it  is,mentioned  to  them.  '  Ye  Pharisees  make 
(•lean  the  outside  of  the  cup  and  the  platter  ; 
but  your  inward  part  is  full  of  ravening  and 


wickedness.  But  rather,'  rather  than  put  on 
all  these  airs  of  piety,  rather  than  affect  an 
ignorant  izeal,  rather  than  practise  exactness 
in  trifles,  'give  alms  of  such  things  as  you 
have.'  Charity  is  the  centre  where  all  vir- 
tues meet.  '  O  man,  what  doth  the  Lord  re- 
quire of  thee,  but  to  do  justly,  to  love  mercy, 
and  to  walk  humbly  with  thy  God  ?  '  Though 
1  speak  v.i!.h  the  tongue  of  men  and  angels, 
though  I  give  my  body  to  be  burned,  though 
I  have  all  faith  so  that  I  could  remove  moun- 
thins,'  and,  we  may  add,  though  I  should  re- 
ceive the  communion  every  day  of  my  life, 
though  I  fast  every  week,  though  I  burn  with 
the  zeal  of  a  seraph,  yet  if  1  have  not  chari- 
ty, I  am  become  as  soundmg  brass,  or  a 
tinkhng  cymbal  I'  Micah  vi.  8;  1  Cor.  xiii. 
1,  &c. 

But  these  reflections  arc  too  vague,  let  us 
be  more  particular.  We  will  divide  this  dis- 
course into  two  parts.  In  the  first,  we  will 
recommend  alms-giving  by  making  an  eulo- 
giura  on  benevolence,  which  ought  to  be  the 
principle  of  it.  In  the  second  part  we  will 
make  some  particular  observations  on  alms- 
giving itself. 

I.  An  eulogium  on  benevolence  shall  be  our 
first  part.  We  consider  this  virtue  in  several 
different  views.  1.  As  it  regards  society.  2. 
As  it  respects  religion.  3.  As  it  influences 
death.  4.  As  it  regards  judgment.  5.  As'it 
respects  heaven.  And,  lastly,  as  it  regards 
God  himself.  Benevolence  is  the  happiness 
of  society,  and  the  essence  of  religion.  It 
triumphsrover  the  horrors  of  death,  and  pleads 
lor  us  belbre  that  terrible  tribunal  at  which 
we  must  be  judged.  Benevolence  is  the  bond 
of  celestial  intelligences,  the  brightest  ray  of 
their  glory,  and  the  chief  article  of  their  feli- 
city. Benevolence  is  the  image  of  God  him- 
self, and  the  expression  of  his  essence.  So 
that  to  practice  the  duly  of  charity,  to  give 
alms  from  this  principle,  is  to  be  a  worthy  citi- 
zen, a  good  Christian,  clicerlul  in  death,  ab- 
solved from  guilt,  and  a  member  of  the  churcli 
tiiumphant.  To  give  alms  is  to  return  to  our 
centre,  to  resemble  God,  from  whom  our  souls 
derived  their  existence.  Let  us  examine  each 
of  these  articles. 

1.  Benevolenoe  constitutes  the  h-ippiness  of 
society  ;  to  give  alms  is  to  perform  the  duty 
of  a  good  citizen.  In  order  to  comprehend 
this,  it  will  be  only  necessary  to  examine  the 
principle  of  action  in  him  who  refuses  to  as- 
sist the  poor  according  to  his  ability,  and  the 
miseries  to  whic!i  society  would  be  reduced 
were  each  member  of  it  to  act  on  the  same 
principle.  1  he  principle  of  a  man,  who  does 
not  contribute  to  assist  tlie  poor  according  to 
his  power,  is,  that  he  who  possesses  temporal 
benefits,  ought  to  hold  then)  only  for  himself, 
and  that  he  ought  never  to  impart  them  to 
others  except  when  his  own  interest  requires 
him  to  do  so ;  and  that  when  his  own  inte- 
rest is  unconnected  with  the  condition  of  his 
neighbour,  he  oughr  not  to  be  affected  with 
his  misfortunes.  Now  it  is  certain  no  princi- 
j)le  can  be  more  contrary  to  public  good. 
What  would  become  of  society  were  all  the 
members  of  it  to  reason  in  this  manner .'  Should 


Seu.  L. 


THE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALMS 


439 


the  statesman  say,  I  will  make  use  of  my 
knowledge  and  experience  to  arrive  at  the 
pinnacle  of  honoixr,  and  to  conduct  my  family 
thither  ;  but,  when  the  interest  of  my  country 
is  unconnected  with  mine,  I  will  abandon  the 
helm,  and  ^ive  myself  no  concern  to  procure 
advantages  for  other  people  !  What  if  a  gene- 
ral should  say,  I  will  employ  all  my  courage 
and  strength,  to  surmount  every  obstacle  in 
the  way  of  my  fortune  ;  but  should  tlie  enemy 
offer  me  advantages  greater  than  I  can  procure 
of  my  country,  1  will  turn  my  hand,  and  des- 
troy the  country  which  I  now  defend  !  'What 
if  the  minister  should  say,  I  will  endeavour 
Only  to  save  myself,  or  I  will  study  only  to 
display  my  talents  ;  but  when  this  end  can- 
not be  obtained,  I  will  harden  my  heart 
against  perplexed  minds,distresseil  consciences, 
people  dying  in  despair,  and  I  will  neglect 
every  duty,  which  has  only  God  and  a  mise- 
rable wretch  for  spectators  I 

Extend  this  principle  of  self-intorest.  Ap- 
pjy  it  to  diiferent  conditions  of  life,  and  you 
will  perceive  it  leads  from  absurdity  to  ab- 
surdity, and  from  crime  to  crime.  You  will 
sec,  that  he  who  makes  it  the  rule  of  his  ac- 
tions, violates  all  the  laws  which  mankind 
made  for  one  another,  when  they  built  cities 
and  formed  states.  In  sucli  establishments 
men  make  tacit  conditions,  that  they  will  suc- 
cour one  another,  that  they  will  reward  some 
services  by  other  services,  and  that  when  any 
are  rendered  incapable  of  serving  others,  or  of 
maintaining  themselves,  they  should  tiot  be 
left  to  perish,  but  that  each  should  furnish 
such  relief  as  he  himself  would  wish  to  re- 
f:cive  in  the  same  case. 

If  a  ric!»  man,  therefore,  refuse  to  .assist  the 
poor,  he  violates  this  primitive  law,  and  con- 
sequently saps  the  foundation  of  society.  As 
good  politicians,  we  ought  to  proceed  rigo- 
I'ously  against  a  miser,  he  should  be  lodged 
among  animals  of  another  species,  and  such 
pleasures  as  arise  from  a  society  of  men  should 
be  refused  to  him,  because  he  refuses  to  con- 
tribute to  them, and  lives  only  for  himself.  For 
tvant  of  human  laws,  there  is  I  know  not 
what  maledictions  affixed  to  those  who  are 
destitute  of  charity.  They  are  considered 
with  horror.  Their  insensibility  is  a  subject 
of  public  conversation.  People  give  one  ano- 
ther notice  to  be  upon  their  guard  with  such 
men,  and  to  use  caution  in  dealing  with  people 
nt"  principles  so  odious.  For  do  not  deceive 
yourseh'cs  ;  do  not  think  to  impose  long  on 
the  public;  do  not  imagine  your  turpitude 
can  be  long  hid,  '  there  is  nothing  covered 
that  tShall  not  be  revealed,'  Matt.  x.  20.  We 
know  well  enough  how  to  distinguish  a  chari- 
table man  from  a  miser.  A  note  of  infamy  is 
set  upon  the  last,  and  people  say  to  one  ano- 
ther. See,  observe  that  old  man,  who  alone 
possesses  a  fortune  sufhcient  for  ten  families, 
see  how  avariciously  he  accumulates  money, 
and  how  cruelly  lie  refuses  to  assist  the  poor  ] 
with  the  least  particle  of  what  death  is  just 
going  to  taite  from  him  !  See  that  proud  am- 
bitious woman,  who  displays  her  vanity  with  ; 
so  much  parade  in  the  sight  of  the  whole  i 
world,  see   how  she  makes  the  poor  expiate  ; 


the  guilt  of  her  pride,  by  feeding  her  vanity 
with  what  ought  to  buy  them  bread.  Thus 
people  talk.  They  do  more,  they  reckon, 
they  calculate,  they  talk  the  matter  over  at 
large  in  public  company,  one  relates  the  his- 
tory of  the  miser,  and  another  makes  quaint 
remarks,  and  all  together  form  an  odious  por- 
trait, which  every  man  abhors. 

2.  Consider  benevolence  in  regard  to  reli' 
S^ion,  and  particularly  in  regard  to  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  of  which  we  affirm  it  was  the 
essence.  In  what  light  soever  you  view  Jesus 
Christ,  the  teacher  of  the  gospel,  you  will  find 
him  displaying  this  virtue.  Consider  him  as 
appointed  to  save  you,  observe  his  birth,  iii.'; 
preaching,  his  actions,  his  preparation  for 
death,  his  death  itself;  in  all  these  different 
viev/s  he  recommends  charity  to  you. 

Consider  Jesus  as  appointed  for  salvation. 
What  inclined  God  to  form  the  design  of  sav- 
ing the  world.'  Was  it  any  eminent  quality  in 
man.''  Were  v,'e  not  'children  of  wrath,'  exe- 
crable objects  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord.''  Was 
it  any  service  rendered  to  God  ?  Alas  !  '  we 
were  enemies  in  our  minds  by  wicked  works.' 
Col.  1.  21.  Was  it  any  prospect  of  retribution  .-' 
'  But  our  goodness  extendeth  not  unto  him,' 
Ps.  xvi.  2.  Is  not  all-sufficiency  one  of  his  at- 
tributes? What  then  inclined  God  to  form  a 
plan  of  redemption  ?  Ask  Jesus  Christ.  He 
will  inform  you, '  God  so  ioved  the  world  that 
he  gave  his  Son,'  John  iii.  16.  Ask  the  apos- 
tle Paul.  !;e  will  tell  you,  '  It  was  for  his 
great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us,'  Eph.  ii.  4. 

The  birth  of  Jesus  Christ  preaches  love  to 
us;  for  why  this  flesh.''  why  this  blood .'  whv 
this  incarnation  ?  In  general  it  was  for  our 
salvation.  My  brethren,  haye  you  ever  weigh- 
ed these  v/ords  of  St.  Paul  ?  '  As  the  chil- 
dren are  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,' — 
(the  scripture  contains  elevated  sentiments 
which  can  never  be  studied  enough.  Divines 
distinguish  senses  of  Scripture  into  literal  and 
mystical ;  we  add  a  third,  a  sublime  sense, 
and  this  passage  is  an  example), — 'As  the 
children  are  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  he 
also  himself  took  part  of  tiie  same,  that  he 
might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful  high-priest. 
For  in  that  he  himself  hath  suffered  being 
tempted,  he  is  able  to  succour  them  that  are 
tempted,'  Heb.  ii.  14,  &:c.  Observe  these 
words,  '  he  took  p.-irt  of  flesh  and  blood  thiit 
he  m'ght  be  rnerciiul.'  What  I  could  he  not 
be  merciful  without  flesh  and  blood.'  *  In 
that  he  hath  suffered  being  tempted,  he  is 
able  to  succour  them  that  are  tempted.'  How! 
Is  not  Jesus  Christ,  as  Lord  of  the  universe, 
able  to  deliver  us  from  temptations  .-'  True, 
he  is  almighty.  His  compassion  inclines  him 
to  succour  us.  Yet,  it  should  seem,  according 
to  St. Paul,  that  something  was  wanting  to  his 
omnipotence.  It  seems  as  if  universal  know- 
ledge Vv'as  not  suthcient  to  inform  him  fullv 
of  the  excess  of  our  miseries.  What  was 
wanting  was  to  know  our  ills  by  experimental 
feeling.  This  knowledge  is  incompatible 
witli  deity,  deity  is  impassible  ;  and  it  was  to 
supply  this,  and  to  acquire  this  knowledge, 
that  God  made  known  to  the  world  llio  un- 
heard-of  mystery  of'God  manifest  in  the  flesh,' 


440 


THE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALMS. 


[_Seii.  L. 


so  thttt  tho  Saviour  might  be  inclined  to  re- 
lieve miseries  which  he  himself  had  felt. 
'  He  also  himself  took  part  of  flesh  and  blood, 
that  he  might  be  merciful.  For  in  that  he 
himself  hath  suffered  being  tempted,  he  is 
able  to  succour  them  that  are  tempted.' 

Jesus  Christ  in  his  doctrine  has  taught  us 
benevolence,  for  to  what  but  love  does  all  his 
doctrine  tend  ?  What  is  the  new  command- 
ment he  gave  us  ?  '  That  we  should  love 
one  another,'  John  xiii.  24.  What  is  '  pure 
and  undefiled  religion  before  God  and  the  Fa- 
ther ?'  Is  it  not  '  to  visit  the  fatherless  and 
the  widows."  James  i.  27.  What  one  thing 
•\vas  lacking  to  the  young  man  who  had  not 
committed  adultery,  had  not  killed,  had  not 
defrauded .''  Was  it  not  '  to  sell  his  goods, 
and  give  to  the  poor .'"  Matt.  xix.  21.  The 
whole  system  of  Christianity  tends  to  charity; 
the  doctrines  to  charity;  the  duties  to  chari- 
ty ;  the  promises  to  charity ;  the  ordinances 
which  assemble  us  in  one  house,  as  members 
of  one  family,  where  we  eat  at  one  table,  as 
children  of  one  father,  all  tend  to  establish 
the  dominion  of  charity. 

The  actions  of  Jesus  Christ  preach  charity 
to  us,  fbr  all  his  life  was  employed  in  exer- 
cises of  benevolence.  What  zeal  for  the  sal- 
%'ation  of  his  neighbours!  Witness  his  pow- 
erful exhortations,  his  tender  prayers,  his 
earnest  entreaties.  What  compassion  for  the 
miseries  of  others  !  Witness  liis  emotions, 
when  '  he  saw  the  multitudes  fainted,  and 
were  scattered  abroad,  as  sheep  having  no 
shepherd,'  Matt.  ix.  36,  witness  the  tears  he 
shed  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  over  un- 
grateful Jerusalem.  We  have,  in  a  few 
words,  an  abridgment  of  the  most  amiable 
life  that  ever  was :  '  He  went  about  doing 
good,'  Acts  X.  38. 

Jesus  preached  charity  in  his  preparation 
for  death.  You  know  what  troubles  agita- 
ted his  mind  at  the  approach  of  this  terrible 
period.  You  know  what  difference  ihere  is 
between  his  death  and  our  death.  As  v.'e 
draw  near  to  death  we  approach  a  throne  of 
grace;  but  Christ  went  to  a  tribunal  of  ven- 
geance. We  go  to  our  father ;  he  went  to 
Lis  judge.  We  are  responsible  for  our  own 
bins  ;  but  upon  the  head  of  this  victim  lay  all 
tiie  crimes  of  the  people  of  God.  Amidst  so 
many  formidable  objects,  what  filled  the  mind 
uf  Jesus  Clirist?  Love.  '  Now  holy  Father, 
I  am  no  more  in  the  world,'  said  he,  '  but 
these  are  in  the  world,  keep  through  thine  own 
name  those  whom  thou  hast  given  me,  that 
they  may  be  one  as  we  are,'  John  xvii.  11. 
As  if  he  had  said.  Father  take  me  for  the 
victim  of  thy  displeasure,  let  me  feel  all  its 
strokes,  give  me  the  dregs  of  the  cup  of 
thine  indignation  to  drink;  provided  my  be- 
loved disciples  be  saved,  my  joy  will  be 
full. 

In  fine,  Jesus  Christ  taught  us  benevolence 
by  his  death  ;  for  'greater  love  than  this  hath 
no  man,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  lite  for  his 
friends,'  John  xv.  13.  There  was  neither  a 
wound  in  his  body,  nor  an  incision  in  his 
hands  or  liis  feet,  nor  u  drop  of  liis  blood 
that  was  shod,  which  did  not  publish  benevo- 


lence. His  love  supported  him  against  the 
fears  of  death,  the  terrors  of  divine  justice, 
and  tlie  rage  of  hell.  His  love  extended 
even  to  his  executioners ;  and,  less  affected 
with  his  own  pains  than  with  the  miseries  to 
which  their  crimes  exposed  them,  he  fetched 
(it  was  one  of  his  last  sighs),  a  sigh  of  love, 
and  ready  to  expire,  said,  '  Father  forgive 
them,  they  know  not  what  they  do.'  Luke 
xxiii.  34. 

Such  is  the  gospel.  Such  is  your  religion. 
Now  I  ask,  My  brethren,  can  a  man  imagine 
himself  a  disciple  of  such  a  master,  can  he 
aspire  at  such  noble  promises,  can  he  admit 
such  truths,  in  one  word,  can  he  be  a  Chris- 
tian and  not  be  charitable.'  Have  we  not 
reason  to  affirm,  that  benevolence  is  the  es- 
sence of  Christianity,  the  centre  to  which  tlie 
lines  of  all  Christian  virtues  tend  ? 

3.  A  third  retlection,  that  is,  that  benevo- 
lence triumphs  over  the  horrors  of  death, 
ought  to  have  great  weight  with  us.  A  me- 
ditation of  death  is  one  of  the  most  powerful 
of  all  motives  to  guard  us  against  temptations, 
agi  eeably  to  a  fnie  saying  of  the  son  of  Sirach, 
'  Whatsoever  thou  takest  in  hand,  remember 
the  end,  and  thou  shalt  never  do  amiss,'  Ecclus. 
vii.  3G.  This  thought  has  a  peculiar  influ- 
ence in  regard  to  charity. 

In  effect,  what  is  death  ?  I  consider  it  prin- 
cipally in  two  views,  first  as  a  general  ship- 
wreck, in  which  our  fortunes,  titles,  and  dig- 
nities are  lost.  '  We  brought  nothing  into 
this  world,  and  it  is  certain  we  can  carry  no- 
thing out,'  1  Tim.  vi.  7.  Next,  I  consider  it 
as  the  time  of  examination  and  judgment,  for 
'  it  is  appointed  to  all  men  once  to  die,  and 
after  that  the  judgment,'  Heb.  ix.  27.  The 
moment  of  death  is  a  fatal  period,  in  which  are 
united  the  excesses  of  our  youth,  the  distrac- 
tions of  our  manhood,  the  avarice  of  our  old 
age,  our  pride,  our  ambition,  our  impurity, 
our  covetousness,  our  treacheries,  our  perju- 
ries, our  calumnies,  our  blasphemies,  our  luke- 
warmness, our  profanations;  all  these  crimes 
will  form  one  black  cloud,  heavy,  and  hang- 
ing ready  to  burst  on  our  heads. 

These  are  two  just  views  of  death,  and  ideas 
of  these  make,  if  1  may  be  allowed  to  say  so, 
the  two  most  formidable  weapons  of'  the  king 
of  terrors,'  the  most  terrible  of  all  terrible 
things.  Hut  the  benevolent  man  is  covered 
from  these  attacks, 

Tlie  charitable  man  need  not  fear  a  depri- 
vation of  his  fortune,  for  in  this  respect  he  does 
not  die.  He  has  prevented  the  ravages  of 
death'by  disburdening  himself  of  his  riches. 
He  has  eradicated  the  love  of  the  world.  He 
has  given  to  the  poor  what  would  otherwise 
have  led  avarice.  Yet,  let  me  recollect  my- 
seli',  the  charitable  man  does  not  impoverish 
himself  by  his  benevolence.  He  has  sent  his 
fortune  before  him.  These  are  Scriptural 
ideas.  '  He  that  hath  pity  upon  the  poor, 
lendeth  unto  the  Lord,  and  that  which  he 
hath  given,  will  he  pay  him  again.  Make  to 
yourselves  friends  of  the  mammon  of  unright- 
eousness, that  whei.  ye  fail,  they  may  receive 
you  into  everlasting  habitations,'  Prov.  xix. 
17;  Luke  xvi.  9.     At  death  the  Christian 


riER.  L.j 


THE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALM= 


441 


beholds  these  friends  opening  their  arms  to  re- 
ceive iiim.  I  recollect  here  an  epitaph  said 
to  be  engraven  on  the  tomb  of  Atolus  of 
Rheims,  He  exported  kis  fortune  before  him 
into  heaven,  he  is  gone  thither  to  enjoy  it. 
What  a  fine  epitaph,  my  brethren  i  Happy 
he  who,  instead  of  such  pompous  titles  as  the 
vanity  of  the  living  puts  on  the  tombs  of  the 
dead,  under  pretence  of  honouring  the  merit 
of  the  deceased,  instead  of  such  nauseous  in- 
scriptions as  feed  pride  among  bones,  worms, 
and  putrefactions,  objects  so  proper  to  teach 
us  humility,  happy  he  who  has  a  right  to  such 
an  epitaph  as  that  just  now  mentioned  1  He 
exported  his  fortune  before  him  into  heaven  by 
his  charities,  he  is  gone  thither  to  enjoy  it. 
Happy  he  who,  mstead  of  splendid  funeral 
processions,  and  a  long  tram  of  hired  attend- 
ants, who  seem  less  disposed  to  lament  death 
than  to  increase  the  numbers  of  the  dead,  hap- 
py he  whose  funeral  is  attended  and  lament- 
ed by  the  poor  1  Happy  he  whose  funeral  ora- 
tion is  spoken  by  the  wretched  in  sobs  and 
sighs  and  expressions  like  these,  I  was  naked, 
and  he  clothed  me,  I  was  hungry,  and  he  fed 
me,  I  lived  a  dying  life,  and  he  was  the  hap- 
py instrument  ol  Providence  to  support  me  1 

A  charitable  man  need  not  fear  death  con- 
sidered as  a  time  of  account.  What  says  the 
Scriptures  concerning  charity  in  regard  to  our 
sins  ?  '  It  covereth  a  multitude,'  1  Pet.  iv.  8. 
Daniel  gives  this  counsel  to  a  guilty  king, 
'Break  off  thine  iniquities  by  showing  mercy  to 
the  poor,'  chap.  iv.  27.  Not  that  our  Scrip- 
tures authorize  a  sacrilegious  commentary, 
such  as  some  sinners  make  upon  these  passa- 
ges. Under  pretence  that  it  is  said, '  charity 
covereth  a  multitude  of  sins,'  or  that  it  puts 
away  our  sins  (the  sense  of  the  first  is  dispu- 
ted, and  we  will  not  now  explain  it),  under 
this  pretence,  I  say,  some  Christians  pretend 
to  make  a  tacit  compact  with  God.  The  im- 
port of  this  contract  is,  that  the  sinner  should 
be  allowed  by  God,  for  the  sake  of  his  alms- 
deeds,  to  persist  in  sin.  An  unjust  man,  who 
retains  the  property  of  others,  will  give  a  trifle 
to  the  poor, and,  under  pretence  that  'charity 
covereth  a  multitude  of  sins,'  will  hold  him- 
self free  fi-om  the  law  of  restitution.  A  de- 
bauchee will  give  alms,  and,  under  pretence 
that  '  charity  covereth  a  multitude  of  sins,' 
will  think  himself  authorized  to  lead  an  un- 
clean life.  Great  God  !  is  this  the  idea  v/e 
form  of  thy  majesty  ?  If  these  be  the  motives 
of  our  virtues,  whence  do  our  vices  spring? 
Shall  we  pretend  with  presents  to  blind  thine 
eyes,  eyes  of  purity  itself.'  Would  we  make 
thee,  O  God  I  an  accomplice  in  our  crimes  ? 
and  have  we  forgot  that  prohibition  so  remark- 
able in  thy  law,  •  thou  shalt  not  bring  the  hire 
of  a  whore,  or  the  price  of  a  dog,  into  the 
house  of  the  Lord!'  Deut.  xxiii.  18.  It  is. 
however,  very  certain  that  charity  disarms 
death,  in  regard  to  that  account  which  we  are 
oibout  to  give  of  the  manner  in  which  we  have 
disposed  our  property,  for  charity  is  tlie  least 
equivocal  mark  of  our  Christianity,  and  the 
least  suspicious  evidence  of  our  faith. 

I  do  not  know  whether  in  the  perfect  enjoy- 
ment of  health,  and  the  pleasures  of  life,  you 
enter  into  these  vellection.s  ;  but   when  you 


think  yourselves  ready  to  expire,  you  implore 
our  assistance,  and  require  us  to  comlbrt  you. 
We  seldom  succeed  much  on  these  occasions. 
Miserable  comforters  are  we  all.  Religion 
with  all  its  evidences,  grace  with  all  its 
charms,  the  promises  of  the  gospel  with  all 
their  magnificence,  are  generally  insufficient 
to  administer  consolation.  Christians,  you 
must  certainly  die  :  arm  us  then  to-day  against 
yourselves.  Put  into  our  hands  to-day  an  ar- 
gument against  that  fear  of  death  which  will 
shortly  seize  you.  Give  weight  to  our  minis- 
try, and  by  disarming  death  by  your  charities, 
put  us  into  a  condition  to  show  you  death  dis- 
armed at  the  end  of  your  life. 

4.  Charity  provides  against  the  terrors  with 
which  an  apprehension  of  the  last  judgment 
ought  to  inspire  us.  Jesus  Christ  has  furnish- 
ed us  with  this  idea,  for  thus  he  speaks  in 
the  twenty-fifth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew, 
*  When  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  his  glo- 
ry, and  all  the  holy  angels  with  him,  he  shall 
say  unto  them  on  his  right  hand.  Come  ye 
blessed  of  my  father,  inherit  the  kingdom  pre~ 
pared  ior  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world. 
For  I  was  an  hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  meat ; 
I  was  thirsty  and  ye  gave  me  drink.  Inas- 
much as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least 
of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto 
me,'  ver.  32,  <S:c. 

There  is  another  of  the  passages  of  which 
we  just  now  spoke,  and  which  ought  to  be  un- 
derstood in  a  sense  altogether  sublime.  Jesus 
Christ  personates  the  poor,  and  takes  upon 
himself,  if  I  may  speak  so,  all  their  obligations. 
What  is  the  reason  of  this  conduct .''  If  the 
poor  be  so  dear  to  him,  why  does  he  leave 
them  to  suffer,  |and  if  he  leave  them  to  suf- 
fer, why  does  he  say  they  are  so  dear 
to  him  ?  My  brethren,  this  is  intended  to 
exercise  our  faith,  and  to  purify  our  love. 
Should  Christ  come  to  us  in  pomp  and  glory, 
surrounded  with  devouring  fire,  with  all  the 
ensigns  of  his  majesty,  attended  by  seraphim, 
and  by  thousand  thousands  ministering  unto 
him  ;  should  he  come  in  this  manner  to  ask  of 
us  a  cup  of  water,  a  piece  of  bread,  a  little 
money,  which  of  us  would  refuse  to  grant  his 
request  ?  But  this  mark  of  our  love  would  be 
suspicious.  It  would  proceed  from  emotions 
excited  by  the  splendour  of  his  majesty,  rather 
than  from  genuine  love.  No  wonder  a  king 
is  respected  in  his  court,  and  upon  his  throne  ; 
majesty  dazzles,  and  ensigns  of  supreme  digni- 
ty excite  emotions  in  all  the  powers  of  our 
souls.  But  should  this  king  survive  some  dis- 
grace, should  he  be  banished  from  his  king- 
dom, and  abandoned  by  his  subjects,  then  his 
real  friends  would  be  discovered,  and  he 
would  prepare  them  a  thousand  rewards.  This 
is  an  image  of  Jesus  Christ.  In  vain  pros- 
trating ourselves  at  the  foot  of  his  throne,  we 
say  to  him  a  thousand  times  over,  '  Lord,  thou 
knowest  tliat  we  love  thee.'  Perhaps  this 
profession  of  esteem  may  proceed  more  from 
a  love  of  the  benefits,  than  of  the  benefactor 
who  bestows  them.  Banished  from  his  hea- 
venly court  in  the  persons  of  his  members,  for- 
saken by  his  subjects,  covered  with  rags,  and 
lodged  in  a  hospital,  he  comes  to  try  his  real 
friends,  solicits  their  compassion,  presents  his 


442 


THE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALMS. 


!;kk..  L. 


miseries  to  Uieni,  and  tails  thein  at  the  same 
time,  that  his  condition  will  not  be  always  thus 
despicable,  that  he  shall  be  soon  re-establishefl 
on  his  throne,  and  that  he  will  then  recom- 
pense their  care  with  eternal  felicity  ;  tliis  is 
the  msaning  of  the  words  just  now  reail,  '  I 
■was  an  hung^ered,  and  ye  gave  me  meat,  I  was 
thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  drink.'  Grand  mo- 
tive to  charity  !  Immen.-e  weight  with  a  soul 
the  least  animated  with  ingenuousness  and 
fervour  !  I  am  not  surprised,  however,  that 
motives  so  strong  in  themselve?  are  frequently 
ineffectual  with  us.  Always  confined  in  a 
sphere  of  sensible  objects,  taken  up  with  the 
present  moment,  contracted  within  the  limits 
of  our  own  small  circle,  we  never  look  forward 
to  futurity,  never  think  of  that  great  day  in 
which  God  will  judge  the  world  in  righteous 
ness,  and  fix  our  eternal  doom.  But  who  is 
there,  who  is  there,  that  in  the  presence  of  all 
mankmd,  in  the  presence  of  all  the  angels  of 
heaven,  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  universe, 
iind  in  the  presence  of  God  himself,  can  bear 
this  reproof  from  the  mouth  of  the  Son  of  God, 
*  I  was  an  hungered,  and  yc  gave  ms  no  meat, 
I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  no  drink.' 

5.  Let  us  consider  charity  in  regard  to  hea- 
ven itself.  We  say  benevolence  is  a  celestial 
virtue,  and  we  propose  this  fifth  reflection  to 
you,  in  order  to  enforce  the  necessity,  and  to 
display  the  excellence  of  charity.  Understand, 
my  brethren,  all  the  other  virtues  which  the 
gospel  prescribes  to  us  are  characterized  by  a 
mortification,  which  obliges  us  to  enter  into 
our  nothingness,  and  reminds  us  of  our  turpi- 
tude and  misery.  They  are  not  absolute  po- 
sitive excellences,  they  are  remedies  for  our 
ills.  For  example,  faith  supposes  our  igno- 
rance ;  hope  supposes  our  poverty ;  patience 
implies  afflictions  ;  repentance  supposes  sin. 
All  public  worship,  prayer,  humilation,  fast- 
ing, sacraments,  all  imply  that  we  are  gross 
and  carnal.  All  this  will  have  no  place  in 
heaven.  In  heaven  there  will  be  no  faith,  no 
hope,  no  prayer,  no  patience.  In  heaven  there 
willjbe  neither  humiliation,  nor  fasting,  nor  sa- 
craments. Charity,  rising  out  of  love,  is  superior 
to  all  other  exercises,  it  has  an  excellence  pro- 
per to  itself:  love  will  follow  us  to  heaven, 
and  heaven  is  the  abode  of  love.  There  God, 
who  is  love,  establishes  his  empire  ;  there  per- 
fect love  reigns  ;  there  is  seen  the  ineffablelove 
which  (he  Father  has  for  his  son;  there  is 
found  that  incompr  ehensible  union  which 
unites  the  three  Divine  Persons  v.'ho  are  the 
object  of  our  worship;  there  Jesus  Christ,onr 
mystical  head,  unites  himself  with  his  mem- 
bers ;  there  is  displayed  the  love  of  God  to 
glorified  saints,  Avith  whom  he  shares  his  fe 
licity  and  glorj' ;  there  the  love  oi  glorified 
saints  to  God  is  made  manifest  ;  there  are  seen 
those  tender  ties  which  unite  the  inhabitants 
of  heaven  to  each  other,  hearts  aiming  at  the 
same  end,  liurning  with  the  same  fire,  enliven- 
ed with  the  same  zeal,  and  joining  in  one  voice 
to  celebrate  the  author  of  their  existence  ; 
there,  then,  benevolence  is  a  heavenly  virtue  ; 
it  constitutes  the  felicity  of  the  place.  Love 
is  the  most  perfect  of  all  pleasures.  Tiie  more 
the  Doity  approaches  his  paints  by  an  effusion 


of  this  love,  and  the  more  he  communicates 
the  delights  of  it  to  them,  the  more  the  saints 
approach  God  by  a  return  of  love  ;  and  the 
nearer  Ih-^y  draw  to  the  source  of  happines.-, 
the  happier  they  render  themselves  and  one 
another  by  such  communications. 

Let  us  not  lightly  pass  over  this  reflection. 
It  is  good  to  be  here-  •  He  that  hath  ears  to 
hear  let  him  hear,'  Matt.  xi.  15.  lie  that  has 
the  most  refined  sense,  the  quickest  invention, 
the  most  noble  imagination,  let  him  conceive  a 
society  united  by  the  purest  principles,  and 
cemented  by  the  firmest  virtue.  This  is  pa- 
radise, this  is  love.  This  is  charity  ;  charity 
that  gives  no  alms,  because  none  in  hea'/en 
are  indigent,  but  charity  which  goes  so  far  as 
to  give  all,  to  give  up  happiness,  to  give  self, 
to  sacrifice  self  for  other  oljects  of  love  ;  wit- 
ness the  presents  which  came  from  heaven  ; 
witness  the  description  of  this  holy  place  ;  wit- 
ness God,  who  gave  us  his  Son,  his  only  Son, 
the  tenderest  olyect  of  his  love  ;  witness  the 
Son,  who  gave  himself;  witness  the  blessed 
angels,  who  encamp  round  about  us  to  protect 
and  defend  us  ;  witness  the  triumphs  of  glori- 
fied saints,  who  rejoice  over  one  sinnner  that 
repents,  as  if  more  interested  in  his  liappiness 
than  in  their  own  ;  witness  the  crowns  which 
the  saints  cast  before  the  throne  of  the  Lamb, 
resigning,  as  it  were,  in  his  favour  their  felici- 
ty and  glory  ;  witness  these  expressions  of  love, 
which  we  shall  one  day  understand  by  an  ex- 
perimental enjoyment  of  them,  '  his  banner 
over  me  is  love.  Turn  away  thine  eyes  from 
me,  for  they  have  overcome  me.  Set  me  as  .i 
seal  upon  thine  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  thine 
arm  ;  for  love  is  strong  as  death,  jealousy  is 
cruel  as  the  grave  ;  the  coals  thereof  are  coals 
of  fire,  which  have  a  most  vehement  flame. 
Many  waters  cannot  quench  love,  neither  can 
the  floods  drown  it,'  Cant.  li.  4,  and  vi.  5. 

After  having  elevated  our  meditation  to 
heaven,  we  return  to  you,  my  brethren.  We 
blush  at  what  we  are  doing  to-day.  ^Ve  are 
ashamed  to  preach,  complain,  and  exhort. 
Why  r  arc  we  endeavouring  to  engage  you  to 
sacrifice  your  fortunes,  to  renounce  your  lives, 
to  become  accursed  for  your  brethren  ?  Are 
we  trying  to  induce  you  to  perform  some  he- 
roical  and  uncommon  act  of  love  .■'  No.  Alas  '. 
Alas  !  We  are  obliged  to  exhort,  and  com- 
plain, and  preach,  to  obtain  of  you  a  little  bit 
of  bread,  a  lew  tattered  clothes,  a  little  smsU 
share  of  what  you  give  with  great  profusion  to 
the  world.  Good  God!  What  Christians  arc 
you  !  Is  this  the  church  .''  Are  you  the  house- 
hold of  faith  ?  Arc  we  preaching  to  citizens 
of  heaven  ?  Are  we  knocking  at  the  doors  of 
hearts  that  believe  a  life  eternal  i*  But  how 
I  will  you  enter  into  that  abode  with  such  un- 
j  feeling  souls  ?  Would  you  go  to  interrupt  the 
communion  of  saints  .■'  Would  you  go  to  dis- 
I  order  heaven,  and  lo  disconcert  angels?  And 
I  do  you  not  perceive,  that  if  you  do  not  put  on 
bowels  of  mercies,  you  banish  yourselves 
from  an  abode  in  which  all  breathe  charity  and 
I  love? 

In  fine,  wc  consider  charity  in   regard  to 

God  himself.     Love  is  the  essence  of  Deity. 

I  God  is  love.     So  an  apostle  has  defined  it. 


.Skb.  L.'J 


THE  BVTY  OF  GIVING  ALMS. 


44i 


Jlere  reflections  rise  from  every  part  to  estab- 
lish our  priticiple.  Nature,  Providence,  socie- 
ty, the  church,  heaven,  earth,  elements,  all 
preach  to  us  the  love  of  God  ;  all  preach  to  us 
the  excellence  of  charity,  which  makes  us  re- 
semble God,  in  the  most  lovely  of  his  attri- 
butes. It  would  give  us  pleasure  to  enlargfe 
on  each  of  these  articles,  were  it  not  necessary, 
after  having  made  some  general  reflections  on 
benevolence,  which  is  the  principle  of  alms- 
giving, to  make  some  particular  reflections  on 
alms-deeds  themselves. 

II.  My  brethren,  were  it  only  necessary  in 
this  discourse  to  give  you  high  ideas  of  bene- 
volence, and  to  convince  you  in  general  of  the 
necessity  of  giving  alms,  we  would  here  put  a 
period  to  our  sermon.  But  can  we  be  ignorant 
of  what  passes  on  these  occasions  ?  Each  sa- 
tisfies himself  with  a  vague  approbation  of 
such  truths.  Each  is  convinced  that  we  ought 
to  be  charitable,  and  that  the  poor  should  be 
relieved  ;  but  each  is  content  with  himself, 
and,  examining  less  what  he  gives,  than  whe- 
ther he  gives,  persuades  himself  that  he  does 
enough,  and  that  nobody  ought  to  complain  of 
him.  It  is  then  necessary,  before  we  finish 
this  discourse,  to  enter  into  some  detail,  and 
to  prescribe  some  rules,  by  which  we  may 
pretty  well  know  what  each  is  obliged  to  give 
ill  alms.  We  will  not  determine  with  exact 
precision  on  this  article.  We  are  fully  con- 
vinced, that,  were  we  to  conduct  you  from 
principle  to  principle  tc'  an  exact  demonstra- 
tion of  what  the  gospel  requires  of  you  in  this 
case,  we  should  speak  of  things  which  would 
make  you  suspect  that  we  took  pains  to  ad- 
vance unheard  of  maxims,  and  to  preach  para- 
doxes. 

We  will  then  content  ourselves  with  propo- 
sing five  considerations  to  you  ;  or,  to  speak 
more  plainly,  v^e  will  produce  five  calcula- 
tions, to  which  we  beg  your  attention,  and,  af- 
ter we  have  spoken  of  them,  we  will  leave 
every  man's  conscience  at  liberty  to  draw  con- 
sequence.';. The  first  calculation  is  that  of  the 
charities  which  God  prescribed  to  the  Jews 
luider  the  law.  The  second  is  that  of  the  cha- 
rities of  the  primitive  Christian  church.  The 
third  is  that  of  our  superfluous  expenses.  The 
fourth  is  that  of  the  number  of  our  poor.  The 
last  is  that  of  the  funds  appropriated  to  their 
support. 

1.  The  first  calculation  is  that  of  the  alias 
which  God  prescribed  to  the  Jews,  and  in  this 
we  include  all  that  they  were  indispensably 
obliged  to  furnish  for  religion.  This  calcula- 
tion may  well  make  Christiana  blush,  as  it 
convinces  us  of  this  melancholy  truth,  that 
though  our  religion  excels  all  religions  in 
the  world,  yet  its  excellence  lies  in  the  gos- 
pel, and  not  in  the  lives  of  those  v/ho  profess  it. 

1.  The  Jews  were  obliged  to  abstain  from 
all  the  fruits  that  grew  on  new  planted  trees 
the  first  three  years.  These  first-fruits  were 
accounted  uncircumcision.  It  was  a  crime  for 
the  planters  to  appropriate  them.  Lev.  xix.  23. 

2.  The  fruits  of  the  fourth  year  were  devo- 
ted to  the  Lord.  They  were  called  '  holy,  to 
praise  the  Lord  withal.'  Juther  they  were 
s?nt  to  Jerusalem,  or  being  valued  they  were 


redeemed  by  a  sum  equivalent  paid  to  tlic 
priest ;  so  that  these  people  did  not  begin  to 
receive  the  profits  of  their  fruit  trees  till  the 
fifth  year. 

3.  The  Jews  were  obliged  every  year  to  of- 
fer to  God  the  'first  of  all  the  fruits  of  the 
earth,'  Deut  xxvi.  2.  When  the  head  of  a 
family  walked  in  his  garden,  and  perceived 
which  tree  first  bore  fruit,  he  distinguished  it 
by  tying  on  a  thread,  that  he  might  know  it 
when  the  fruits  were  ripe.  .4t  that  time  each 
father  of  a  family  put  that  fruit  into  a  basket. 
At  length  all  the  heads  of  families,  who  had 
gathered  such  fruit  in  one  town,  were  assem- 
bled, and  deputies  were  chosen  by  them  to 
carry  them  to  Jerusalem.  These  offerings 
were  put  upon  an  ox  crowned  with  flowers, 
and  the  commissioners  of  the  convoy  went  in 
pomp  to  Jerusalem,  singing  these  words  of  the 
hundred  and  twenty-second  psalm,'  i  was  glad, 
when  they  said  unto  me.  Let  us  go  into  the 
house  of  the  Lord.'  When  they  arrived  at 
the  city,  they  sung  these  words, '  Our  feet  shall 
stand  within  thy   gates,  O   Jerusalem.'     At 

I  length  they  went  to  the  temple,  each  carrying 
I  his  offering  on  his  shoulders,  the  king  himself 
not  excepted,  again  singing,  '  Lift  up  your 
heads,  O  ye  gates,  and  be  ye  lifted  up,  ye  ever- 
lasting doors.  Lift  up  your  heads,  O  ye  gates, 
and  be  ye  lifted  up,  ye  everlasting  doors,'  Ps, 
xxiv.  7. 

4.  The  Jews  were  obliged  to  leave  the  corn 
on  their  lands  ends  for  the  use  of  the  poor ; 
and,  in  order  to  avoid  the  frauds  which  might 
be  practised  in  this  case,  it  was  determined  to 
leave  the  sixtieth  part  of  the  land  as  a  just  pro- 
portion for  the  poor,  Lev.  xix.  9. 

5.  The  ears  of  corn,  which  fell  from  the 
hand  in  harvest  time,  were  devoted  to  the  same 
purpose ;  and  if  you  consult  Josephus,*  he  will 
tell  you,  that  the  Jews  held  themselves  obliged 
by  this  command  of  God,  not  only  to  leave  the 
poor  such  ears  of  corn  as  fell  by  chance,  but  to 
let  fall  some  freely,  and  on  purpose  for  them  to 
glean. 

6.  The  Jews  were  obliged  to  give  the  for- 
tieth part  of  their  produce  to  the  priest,  at 
least  it  is  thus  the  Sanhedrim  explained  tlic 
law  written  in  the  eighteenth  chapter  of  Deu- 
teronomy. 

7.  They  were  obliged  to  pay  a  tenth  to 
maintain  the  Levites,  Numb,  xvii,  16. 

8.  The  produce  of  the  earth  every  seventh 
year  belonged  to  the  poor,  at  least  the  owner 
had  no  more  right  than  people  who  had  n^ 
property.  Lev.  xxv.  23.  This  command  is* 
express,  and  the  Jews  have  such  an  idea  of 
this  precept,  that  they  pretend  the  captivity 
in  Babylon  was  a  punishment  for  the  violation 
of  it.  To  this  belong  these  words, '  The  land 
shall  enjoy  her  sabbaths  as  long  as  it  lieth  de- 
solate, and  ye  be  in  your  enemy's  land  ;  even 
then  shall  the  land  rest,  and  enjoy  her  sab- 
baths,' chap,  xxxvi.  34. 

9.  All  debts  contracted  among  this  people 
were  released  at  the  end  of  every  seven  years  ; 
so  that  a  debtor,  who  could  not  discharge  his 
debt  within  seven  years,  was  at  the  end  of 


<■  Antiq.  Jud.  cap.  8.  Ub.  iv. 


444 


THE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALMS'. 


[Ser.  L. 


that  time  released  from  all  obligation  to  di?- 
charge  it,  2  Chron   xxxvi.  21  ;  Dent.  xv.  2. 

To  all  these  expenses  add  extraordiiiaries 
for  sacrifices,  oblations,  journies  to  Jerusalem, 
half  shekels  to  the  sanctuary,  and  so  on,  and 
3-ou  will  find,  that  God  imposed  upon  his  peo- 
ple a  tribute  amounting  to  nearly  half  their  in- 
fome.*  What  is  worthy  of  consideration  is, 
that  the  modern  Jews,  as  you  may  convince 
yourselves  by  conversing  with  them,  not  be- 
ing able  literally  to  discharge  a  great  number 
of  precepts,  which  originally  related  to  their 
ancestors,  are  far  from  being  lax  in  relieving 
their  poor  ;  so  that  if  there  are  as  many  Jews 
in  a  place  as  form  what  they  call  a  congrega- 
tion (and  ten  they  say  are  sufHcient)  they  ap- 
point treasurers  to  collect  charities  for  the 
poor.  Lest  avarice,  prevailing  over  principle, 
should  prevent  the  discharge  of  this  duty,  thev 
have  judges  who  examine  their  ability,  and 
■who  tax  them  at  about  a  tenth  of  their  income, 
so  that  one  of  the  greatest  offences  which  we 
e^Te  them,  and  which  prejudices  them  against 
Christianity,  is  the  little  charity  Christians 
liave  for  the  poor.  A  scandal,  by  the  way,  and 
to  your  confusion  let  it  be  spoken,  which  would 
undoubtedly  increase,  if  they  were  belter  ac- 
quainted with  you,  and  if  they  saw  that  affect- 
ed dissipation,  which  prevents  maay  of  you 
from  seeing  the  hands  held  out  to  receive  alms 
for  the  poor  at  the  doors  of  our  churches. 

This  is  the  first  calculation  we  have  to  pro- 
pose to  you.  Havmg  proposed  it  to  your  ex- 
amination we  will  determine  nothing.  One 
reflection,  however,  must  not  be  omitted,  that 
is,  that  the  gospel  is  an  economy  infinitely 
more  noble,  and  more  excellent  than  the  law. 
The  gospel,  by  abolishing  the  Levitical  cere- 
monies, has  enforced  the  morality  of  Judaism 
much  more  effectually,  and  particularly  what 
regards  charity.  Jesus  Christ  has  fixed  no- 
thing on  this  article.  He  has  contented  him- 
self by  enjoining  us  in  general '  to  love  our 
neighbour  as  ourselves,'  not  being  willing  to 
set  any  other  bounds  to  our  love  for  him  than 
those  which  we  set  to  our  love  for  ourselves. 
If  then  under  an  economy  so  gross,  if  under 
an  economy  in  which  differences  were  made 
between  Jews  and  gentiles,  nation  and  nation, 
people  and  people  (wiiich  always  restrains 
charity,)  God  required  his  people  to  give,  to 
fay  the  least,  a  third  part  of  their  income, 
what,  what  are  the  obligations  of  Christians  ! 
I  repeat  it  again,  were  I  to  pursue  these  re- 
uections,  I  should  certainly  be  taxed  with  ad- 
vancing unheard-of  maxims,  and  preaching 
paradoxes. 

II.  The  second  calculation  we  have  to  pro- 
pose to  you  is,  that  of  the  charities  of  the 
Primitive  Christians.  The  great  master  had 
so  fully  imparted  his  own  charitable  disposi- 
tion to  his  disciples,  that,  according  to  St. 
liUke, '  all  that  beliei-ed  had  all  things  com- 
mon ;  and  sold  their  possessions  and  goods,  and 
parted  them  to  all  men,as  every  man  had  need,' 
chap.  ii.  44,  and  Acts  ii.  44,45.  In  the  time  ( 
of  Tertullian  Christian  charity  was  proverbi-  j 
al,  and  it  was  said  of  them,  '  See  how  they  1 

*  Episcopius  Inst.  TIicol.  lib.  iii.  cap.  5.  ' 


love  one  another  ;'*  insomuch  that  the  hea- 
thens, surprised  to  see  a  union  so  affectionate, 
ascribed  it  to  supernatural  causes.  They  said; 
Christians  had  some  unknown  characters  im- 
printed on  their  bodies,  and  these  characters 
\  had  the  virtues  of  inspiring  them  with  love 
for  one  another.t  Lucian,  that  satirical  wri- 
'  ter,  who  died  in  the  reign  of  Marcus  Aurelius, 
in  a  discourse  on  the  death  of  the  philosopher 
Percgrinus,  who  burnt  himself  at  the  Olym- 
pic games,  Lucian,  I  say,  by  attempting  to 
satirize  Christians,  passed  a  high  encomium  on 
them.  '  It  is  incredible,'  says  he, '  what  pains 
and  diligence  they  use  by  all  means  lo  suc- 
cour one  another.  Their  legislator  made 
them  believe  that  they  are  all  brethren,  and 
since  they  have  renounced  our  religion,  and 
worshipped  their  crucified  leader,  they  live 
according  to  his  laws,  and  all  their  riches 
are  common. '|  We  have  also  an  undoubted 
testimony  of  Julian  the  Apostate  on  this  arti- 
cle. He  was  one  of  the  greatest  persecutors 
of  the  primitive  Christians,  and  he  was  a  bet- 
ter politician  in  the  art  of  persecution  than 
either  his  predecessors  or  successors.  Julian 
did  not  attack  religion  with  open  violence ; 
he  knew,  what  we  have  seen  with  our  own 
eyes,  that  is,  that  violence  inflames  zeal,  and 
that  the  blood  of  martyrs  is  the  seed  of  the 
church.  He  attacked  religion  in  another  man- 
ner, and,  as  the  charity  of  the  primitive 
Christians  rendered  Christianity  venerable, 
this  tyrant  attempted  to  clothe  paganism  with 
Christian  charity.  Thus  he  wrote  to  a  pagan 
priest.  '  Let  us  consider,'  says  he, '  that  no- 
thing has  so  much  contributed  to  the  progress 
of  the  superstition  of  Christians  as  their  char- 
ity to  strangers.  I  think  we  ought  to  discharge 
this  obligation  ourselves.  Establish  hospitals 
in  every  place  ;  for  it  would  be  a  shame  for 
us  to  abandon  our  poor,  while  the  Jews  have 
none,  and  while  the  impious  Galileans  (thus 
he  calls  Chaistians)  provide  not  only  for  their 
own  poor,  but  also  for  ours.' 

If  you  wish  for  observations  more  particular 
concerning  primitive  Christian  charity,  we  an- 
swer, 

1 .  The  primitive  Christians  expended  large 
sums  in  propagating  the  faiths  and  in  preach- 
ing the  gospel.  They  thought  that  the  prin- 
cipal care  of  a  Christian,  after  '  bringing  into 
captivity  his  own  thoughts  to  the  obedience 
of  Christ,'  was  to  convert  others.  Ecclesiasti- 
cal history  gives  us  many  examples,  and  par- 
ticularly that  of  St.  Chrysostom,  mentioned 
by  Theodoret.  '  He  assembled  monks  full  of 
zeal,  and  sent  them  to  preach  the  gospel  in 
Phoenicia  ;  and,  having  understood  that  there 
were  people  dispersed  along  the  banks  of  the 
Danube  who  thirsted  for  the  waters  of  grace,hc 
sought  out  men  of  ardent  zeal,  whom  he  sent 
to  labour  like  apostles  in  the  propagation  ol 
the  faith. '^  I  blush  to  mention  this  example, 
because  it  recalls  that  reproach  which  we  just 
now  mentioned,  that  is,  that  we  have  no  zeal 
for  the  salvation  of  infidels,  and  that  the  fleets 


*  Tertu!.  Apol.  .x.x.xix. 

f  Minulius  Felix. 

\  Lucian,  torn.  '2.  de  la  mort  ilu  fil.  Peregrine 

^rriieod.  Hist.  Krcles-.  v.  2P,  3".  &c. 


THE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALi^lS, 


Sre.  L.] 

■which  we  sen  J  to  the  new  world,  are  much 
more  animated  with  a  desire  of  accumulating 
wealth,  than  of  conveying  the  gospel  to  the 
natives. 

2.  The  primitive  Christians  paid  a  wonder- 
ful attention  to  the  sick.  Tliey  kept  people 
on  purpose  for  this  pious  office.  In  the  city  of 
Alexandria  alone,  the  number  was  so  great, 
that  Theodosius  was  obliged  to  diminish  it, 
and  to  fix  it  at  five  hundred  ;  and  when  it  was 
afterwards  represented  to  him  that  the  num- 
ber was  unequal  to  the  task,  he  increased  it 
to  six  hundred,  as  a  law  in  the  Theodosian 
code  informs  us.'*  I  cannot  help  repeating  on 
this  occasion  a  beautiful  passage  of  Eusebius. 
Speaking  of  a  plague  which  ravaged  Egypt, 
after  he  had  described  it,  he  adds,'  Many  of 
our  brethren,  neglecting  their  own  health, 
through  an  excess  of  charity  have  brought 
vipon  themselves  the  misi'ortunes  and  mala- 
dies of  others.  After  they  had  held  in  their 
arms  the  dying  saints,  after  they  had  closed 
their  mouths,  their  eyes,  after  they  had  em- 
braced, kissed,  washed,  and  adorned  them 
with  their  best  habits,  and  carried  them  on 
their  shoulders  to  the  grave,  they  have  been 
glad  themselves  to  receive  the  same  kind  of 
office  from  others  who  have  imitated  their  zeal 
and  charity. 't 

3.  The  primitive  Christians  were  very  cha- 
ritable in  redeeming  captives.  Witness  St. 
Ambrose,  who  was  inclined  to  sell  the  sacred 
Utensils  for  that  purpose.  Witness  S.  Cypri- 
an, who  in  a  letter  to  the  bishops  of  Numidia 
concerning  some  Christians  taken  captive  by 
barbarians,  implores  their  charity  for  the  de- 
liverance of  these  miserable  people,  and  con- 
tributed towards  it  more  than  a  thousand 
pounds.  Witness  a  history  related  by  Socra- 
tes. The  Romans  had  taken  seven  thousand 
persons  prisoners,  many  of  Vv^hom  perished  with 
hunger  in  their  captivity.  A  Christian  bish- 
op named  Acacius  assembled  his  church,  and 
addressed  them  in  this  sensible  and  pious  lan- 
guage :  '  God  needeth  not,  said  he,  '  neither 
ilishes  nor  cups,  as  he  neither  eats  nor  drinks  ; 
I  think  it  right,  therefore,  to  make  a  sale  of  a 
great  part  of  the  church's  plate,  and  to  apply 
the  money  to  the  support  and  redemption  of 
captives.'  Socrates  adds,  that  he  caused  the 
holy  utensils  to  be  melted  down,  and  paid  tiie 
soldiers  for  the  ransom  of  the  prisoners,  main- 
tained them  all  winter,  and  sent  them  home 
in  the  spring  with  money  to  pay  the  expenses 
of  their  journey."* 

In  fine,  the  charity  of  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians appears,  by  the  ytioiis  foundations  which 
they  made,  by  the  innumerable  hospitals 
which  they  supported,  and  above  all,  by  the 
immense,  and  almost  incredible,  number  of 
poor  which  they  maintained.  Observe  these 
words  of  St.  Chrysostom,  'Consider,'  says  he, 
'  among  many  poor,  widows,  and  orphans,  this 
fihurch  distributes  the  charity  of  one  rich  man  ; 
the  number  in  the  catalouge  is  three  thousand, 
not  to  mention  extraordinary  assistances  giv- 


445 


*  Code  Theod.  lib.  xvi.  9. 
t  Euseb.  Hist.  Eccles.  lib.  vii.  cup.  22. 
{  Ambros.  Offic.  lib.  ii.  cap.ii8.  S.  Cyprian  Let.  Ix. 
Edit.  Osoii.  C?.  Socrat.  Hist.  £rcU's.  lib.  vii.  cap.  21. 


en  to  prisoners,  people  sick  in  hospitals,  stran- 
gers, leprous  persons,  servants  of  the  church, 
and  many  other  persons,  whose  necessities 
oblige  them  to  apply  every  day,  and  who  re- 
ceive both  food  and  clothing.'*  What  ren- 
ders this  the  more  remarkable  is,  that  the 
primitive  Christians  placed  their  glory  in 
their  charities.  We  have  a  famous  example 
in  the  conduct  of  the  church  of  Rome  in  re- 
gard to  the  emperor  Decius.  This  tyrant  de- 
manded their  treasure;  a  deacon  answered  for 
the  whole church,and  required  one  day  to  com- 
ply with  the  order  of  the  emperor.  When  the 
term  was  expired,  he  assembled  all  the  blind, 
and  the  lame,  and  the  sick,  that  were  support- 
ed by  the  church,  and  pointing  to  them,  told 
the  tyrant,  '  these  are  the  riches  of  the  church, 
these  its  revenue  and  treasure. 't  I  have  col- 
lected these  examples  to  convince  you,  my 
brethren,  that  we  have  degenerated  from  the 
virtue  of  our  ancestors,  and  that  the  lives  of 
the  primitive  Christians,  at  least  in  this  arti- 
cle, were  a  lively  comment  on  the  dextrine  of 
their  master. 

III.  A  third  calculation,  which  we  conjure 
you  to  examine  as  Christians  ought,  is  that  of 
your  superfluous  expenses.  We  do  not  call 
those  expenses  superfluous  which  are  necessa- 
ry to  your  maintenance,  nor  those  which  con- 
tribute to  the  convenience  and  pleasure  of  life, 
nor  those  which  support  your  rank ;  we  do  not 
touch  this  part  of  your  fortune  ;  we  agree,  that 
before  you  think  of  your  brethren,  your  coun- 
trymen, the  household  offailh,  you  should  set. 
apart  (sad  necessity,  my  brethren,  which  en- 
gages us  to  preach  to  j-ou  a  morality  so  lax>, 
and  to  ask  so  little,  lest  we  should  obtain  no- 
thing) we  agree,  I  say,  that  before  you  think  of 
the  poor  you  should  set  apart  as  much  as  is  ne- 
cessary for  your  maintenanc  to  a  certain  de- 
gree ;  for  your  ornaments  to  a  certain  degree  ; 
for  your  amusement  and  appearances  to  a  cer- 
tain degree  ;  all  this  we  give  up,  and  agree, 
that  this  part  shall  be  sacred,  and  that  it  shall 
be  accounted  a  crime  to  touch  the  least  parti- 
cle of  it.  But  reckon,  I  beseech  you,  what 
sums  are  consumed  beyond  all  this.  Cast  your 
eyes  about  this  church.  Endeavour  to  calcu- 
late the  immense  sums  that  have  been  spent  in 
luxury  since  you  laid  aside  that  wise  simplici- 
ty which  your  ancestors  exemplified  ;  I  say 
since  that  time,  for  before,  this  article  could 
not  have  appeared  in  a  Christian  sermon.  Let 
us  reckon  what  is  now  spent  in  extravagant  en- 
tertainments, excessive  gaming  immodest  dress- 
es, elegant  furniture,  and  constant  public 
amusements,  all  become  now  necessary  by  ha- 
bit. Such  a  calculation  would  convince  us, 
that  what  is  given  to  the  poor  is  nothing  in 
comparison  with  what  is  spent  in  luxury  ;  and 
yet  I  will  venture  to  affirm,  that  in  times  like 
the  present,  we  are  bound  to  give  a  great 
deal  more  than  our  superiluities  in  charity. 
The  poor  we  recommend  to  you  are,  for  the 
most  part,  so  venerable  ;  they  have  impover- 
ished themselves  for  such  a  noble  cause,  that 
we  ought  to  retrench  even  our  necessary  ex.. 


*Chrysost.  Uomil.  Ixvi.  in  St.  Matt.  Edit.  Front 
Due.  Ixvii. 
t  Anilrus.  Offic.  lib.  ii-cap.  2S. 


44&- 


THP:  DUTV  of  GIVIIVG  ALMt. 


[StK. 


penses  to  support  Ihcm.  At  least  this  superflui- 
ty, such  a  superfluity  as  we  have  described,  a 
superfluity  given  to  vice,  can  we  refuse  to  give 
it  to  the  Lord  ?  If  we  dedicate  it  to  the  poor, 
we  offer  to  God  altogether  our  criminal  plea- 
sures and  the  money  they  cost,  our  passions, 
and  ou  r  charities  ;  and  by  so  doing  we  dis- 
charge two  religious  duties,  and  present  a  dou- 
ble sacrifice. 

IV.  The  last  calculation  we  make  (a  sad 
calculation  indeed,  but,  however  necessary)  is 
that  of  the  number  of  our  poor ;  and  to  abridge 
the  matter,  we  join  to  this  an  account  of  the 
funds  which  we  have  to  support  them.  It  is 
necessary  to  enter  into  this  detail,  for  some 
■jieoplc  pay  no  attention  to  these  things  ;  in- 
•  Iced,  the}'  know  in  general  that  there  arc  poor, 
but  satisfied  with  their  own  abundance,  they 
j^ive  themselves  little  concern  to  know  how 
many  such  persons  there  arc. 

Turn  your  eyes  a  moment  from  yonr  own 
prosperity,  and  fix  them  on  these  objects.  All 
the  world  know  that  an  infinite  number  of 
poor  people  are  supported  in  this  country  by 
charity  ;  all  the  world  know  that  the  afflic- 
tions with  which  it  has  pleased  God  to  visit 
our  churches,  have  filled  these  provinces  with 
an  innumerable  multitude  of  distressed  objects, 
vho  have  no  other  resource  than  the  charity 
of  our  magistrates.  This  charity  will  always 
be  a  reason  for  our  gratitude.  It  enlivens  not 
only  those  who  partake  of  it,  but  all  the  rest  of 
the  exiles  who  behold  with  the  tenderest  sen- 
siliility  the  benefits  conferred  on  their  breth- 
ren. But  wo  be  to  you,  if  the  charity  of  the 
state  be  made  a  pretext  for  your  hard-hearted- 
ness,  and  if  public  beneficence  be  made  an  ob- 
stacle to  private  alms-deeds  !  Understand,  then, 
that  beside  the  poor  we  have  mentioned,  there 
is  a  great  number  who  have  no  share  in  the 
bounty  of  the  states.  Thiscliurch  has  several 
members  of  this  sort.  Beside  an  infinity  of  oc  • 
casions  which  present  themselves  every  day, 
beside  a  thousand  extraordinary  cases  unpro- 
vided for,  beside  a  number  of  indigent  persons 
occasionally  relieved,  the  church  suppports 
many  hundreds  of  families,  in  wliich  are  many 
infants,  many  sick,  many  aged,  and  many  dy- 
ing ;  they  who  have  been  supported  througli 
life,  must  be  buried  after  their  death  at  the 
charge  of  the  church.  All  these  wants  must  be 
rpgularly  supplied  every  week,  whether  tliere 
be  money  in  hand  or  not.  When  your  chari- 
ties fail,  our  officers  assist  the  poor  with  their 
purse,  as  at  all  times  they  assist  them  with 
their  pains.  Is  the  payment  of  the  weekly 
sums  deferred?  Alas !  If  it  be  deferred  one  single 
day,  the  poor  have  no  bread  that  day  :  the  dy- 
ing expire  without  succour:  the  dead  lie  un- 
buried,  and  putrefy,  and  infect  those  who  as- 
sisted them  while  alive. 

Whatever  pains  are  taken,  whatever  exact- 
ness is  observed,  how  gi-eat  soever  your  char- 
ities be,  the  poor's  fund  in  this  church  cannot 
supply  all  their  wants. — What  am  I  saying. 
Iho  funds  of  the  church  ?  We  have  none.  We 
have  no  other  supplies  than  what  are  derived 
from  our  charity  given  at  the  door  of  the 
church,  from  legacies  left  by  a  few  pious  per- 
son?, and  from  ccllectioiis.     All  these  are  ex- 


pended, and  more  than  expended.  Our  of- 
ficers are  in  arrears,  and  have  no  other  hopes 
than  what  are  founded  on  your  donations  to- 
day, or  Wednesday  next,  to  the  collection,  of 
which  I  give  you  this  public  notice. 

You  will  ask  me,  without  doubt.  How  then 
do  all  these  poor  subsist  ?  For  it  is  very  cer- 
tain they  do  subsist,  and  nobody  perishes  witli 
hunger.  How  do  they  subsist .''  Can  you 
want  to  be  informed  ?  Why,  they  suffer — they 
weep — they  groan — from  want  of  food  tliev 
fall  sick — sickness  increases  their  wants — ■ 
their  wants  increase  their  sickness — they  fall 
victims  to  death — a  death  so  much  the  more 
cruel  by  how  much  the  more  slow  it  is  ;— 
and  this  death — this  death  cries  to  heaven 
for  vengeance  against  you  who  shut  up  youi' 
bowels  of  compassion  from  them. 

My  brethren  with  what  eyes  do  you  sec 
these  things  ?  What  effects  do  tliese  sad  ob- 
jects produce  upon  you.''  Can  you  beliold  the 
miseries  of  yotr  brethren  without  compassion  i' 
Can  you  without  any  emotion  of  pity  hear  Je- 
sus Christ  begging  his  bread  of  you  I  And  all 
these  blows  that  we  have  given  at  the  door  of 
your  hearts,  shall  they  serve  only  to  discover 
the  hardness  of  them,  and  to  aggravate  your 
guilt? 

W'e  frequently  complain,  that  our  sermons 
are  useless  ;  that  our  exhortations  are  unpro- 
fitable ;  that  our  ministry  produces  neither 
wisdom  in  your  minds,  nor  virtue  in  your 
hearts,  nor  any  alteration  in  your  lives. 
You  in  your  turn  complain  :  you  say  we  de- 
claim ;  you  affirm  we  exaggerate  ;  and,  as  the 
reasonableness  or  futility  of  our  complaints  de- 
pends on  a  discussion  into  which  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  us  to  enter,  the  question  remains  un- 
determined. 

My  brethren,  you  have  it  in  your  power 
to-day,  and  next  Wednesday,  to  make  your 
apology.  You  may  give  a  certain  proof  that 
you  are  not  insensible  to  the  care  which  God 
takes  for  your  salvation.  You  may  do  us  the 
favour  to  confound  our  reproofs,  and  to  si- 
lence reproof  for  the  future.  Behold,  our 
wants  are  before  you.  Behold,  our  iiands  are 
held  out  to  receive  your  chavity. 

Do  not  lessen  your  gift  on  account  of  what 
you  have  hitherto  done :  do  not  complain  of 
our  importunity  ;  do  not  say  the  miseries  of 
the  poor  are  perpetual,  and  their  wants  have 
no  end;  but  rather  let  your  former  charities 
be  considered  as  motives  to  future  charities. 
Become  moilels  to  yourselves.  Follow  your 
own  example.  Recollect,  that  what  makes 
the  glory  of  this  state  and  this  church,  what 
Jesus  M'ill  commend  at  the  last  day,  what 
will  comfort  you  on  your  death-bed,  will  not 
be  the  richbeaufets  that  shine  in  your  houses, 
the  superb  equipages  that  attend  you,  the  ex- 
quisite dishes  that  nourish  you,  not  even  the 
signal  exploits  and  numberless  victories  which 
astonish  the  universe,  and  fill  the  world  with 
your  names,  but  the  pious  foundations  you 
have  made,  the  families  you  have  supported, 
the  exiles  you  have  received — these,  these 
will  be    your  felicity  and  glory. 

You  say  the  miseries  of  the  poor  are  perpet- 
\  ual,  and  their  wants  cndlc;: ;  and  this  dis- 


Sf.R.  L.] 


THE  DUTY  OF  GIVING  ALM,?, 


447 


heartens  you.  Alas  !  Is  not  this,  on  the  con- 
trary, what  ought  to  inflame  your  charity  ? 
What !  should  your  charity  diminish  as  wants 
increase  ?  What !  because  your  brethren  are 
not  weary  of  carrying;  the  cross  of  Christ,  are 
you  wearied  of  encouraging  them  to  do  so  ? 

You  say  the  miseries  of  the  poor  are  per- 
petual, and  their  wants  have  no  end.  I  un- 
derstand you  ;  this  reproach  touches  us  in  a 
tender  part.  But  have  we  less  reason  to  com- 
plain, because  we  are  always  miserable  ?  Yet, 
perhaps^we  may  not  always  be  in  a  condition 
so  melancholy.  Perhaps  God  '  will  have 
mercy  upon  his  afflicted.'  Perhaps  the  flam- 
ing sword,  which  has  pursued  us  for  more 
than  twenty  years,  will '  return  into  its  scab- 
bard, rest  and  be  still.'  Perhaps  we  may 
some  day  cease  to  be  a  wretched  people,  wan- 
dering about  the  world,  exciting  the  displea- 
sure of  some,  and  tiring  the  charity  of  others. 
Perhaps  God,  in  order  to  recompense  the 
charity  which  you  have  testified  by  receiving 
us,  will  grant  you  the  glory  of  re-establish- 
ing us ;  and,  as  you  have  lodged  the  captive 
ark,  will  empower  you  to  conduct  it  back  to 
Shiloh  with  songs  of  victory  and  praise.  Per- 
haps, if  we  all  concur  to-day  in  the  same  de- 
sign ;  if  we  all  unite  in  one  bond  of  charity  ; 
if,  animated  with  such  a  noble  zeal,  we  ad- 
dress our  prayers  to  him,  after  we  have  offer- 
ed to  fiim  our  alms  ;  perhaps  we  may  build 
again  the  walls  of  our  Jerusalem,  and  redeem 
our  captive  brethren  from  prisons,  and  gal- 
leys, and  slavery.  Perhaps,  if  God  has  deter- 
mined that  E.^ypt, which  enslaves  them,  should 
be  £br  ever  the  theatre  of  his  vengeance  and 
curse,  he  may  bring  out  the  remainder  pf  his 
Israel  with  a '  mighty  hand  and  an  outstretch- 
ed arm,  with  jewels  of  silver  and  jewels  of 
gold,  with  flocks  and  herds,  not  a  hoof  being 
left  behind,'  according  to  the  expression  of 
Moses,  Exod.x.  11 

After  all,  let  us  remember  what  was  said  at 
tlie  beginning  of  this  discourse,  that  if  God 
requires  alms  of  you,  it  is  owing  to  his  good- 
ness tovt^ards  you.  Yes,  I  would  engrave  this 
truth  upon  your  minds,  and  fix  this  sentiment 
in  your  hearts.  I  would  make  you  fully  un- 
derstand, that  God  has  no  need  of  you  to  sup- 
port his  poor,  and  that  he  has  a  thousand 
ways  at  hand  to  support  tliem  without  you. 
I  would  fain  convince  yon,  that  if  he  leaves 
poor  people  among  you,  it  is  for  the  reason 
we  have  already  mentioned  ;  it  is  from  a  sub- 
lime principle,  for  which  I  have  no  name.  In 
dispensing  his  other  favours,  he  makes  you 
sink  with  joy  under  the  weight  of  his  magni- 
ficence and  mercy ;  to-day  he  offers  to  owe 
you  something.  He  would  become  your 
debtor.  He  makes  himself  poor,  that  you 
jnay  be  enriched  by  enriching  him.  He 
would  hava  you  address  that  prayer  which  a 
prophet  formerly  addressed  to  liim,  'Thine, 
O  Lord,  is  the  greatness,  and  the  power,  and 
the  glory,  and  the  victory,  and  the  majesty  ; 
for  all  that  is  in  the  heaven  or  the  earth  is 
thine.  Thine  is  the  kingdom,  O  Lord,  and 
thou  art  exalted  as  head  above  all.  Both 
riches  and  honour  come  of  thee,  and  thou 
reignest  over  all,  ami  in  thine  hand  is  power 


and  might,  and  in  thine  hand  it  is  to  make 
great,  and  to  give  strength  unto  all.  Now 
therefore,  our  God,  we  thank  thee,  and  praise 
thy  glorious  name.  But  who  am  I,  ami 
what  is  my  people,  that  we  should  be  able  to 
offer  so  willingly  after  this  sort  ?  for  all  things 
come  of  thee,  and  of  thine  own  have  we 
given  thee.  For  we  are  strangers  before  thee 
and  sojourners,  as  were  all  our  fathers :  our 
days  on  the  earth  are  as  a  shadow,  and  there 
is  none  abiding,'   1  Chron.  xxix.  11,  Sic, 

May  these  forcible  reasons,  and  these  noble 
motives  convey  light  into  the  darkest  mind's, 
and  soften  the  most  obdurate  hearts ;  and  may 
each  apply  them  to  himself  in  particular!  It- 
happens,  not  unfrequently,  that  on  these  oc- 
casions each  trusts  to  the  public,  and,  imagin- 
ing that  the  charity  of  an  individual  will  be 
nothing  to  the  total  sum,  for  this  reason  omits 
to  give.  No,  my  brethren,  there  is  no  person 
here  who  does  not  make  one;  there  is  no  perscii, 
here  who  ought  not  to  consider  himself  the 
public,  and,  if  I  may  venture  to  say  so,  repre- 
senting in  some  sort  the  whole  congregation. 
Every  person  here  ought  to  consider  his  own 
contribution  as  deciding  the  abundance  or  the 
insignificance  of  our  collection.  Let  eacfi 
therefore  tax  himself.  Let  no  one  continue  ir» 
arrears.  Let  a  noble  emulation  be  seen 
amongst  us.  Let  the  man  in  power  give  a 
part  of  the  salary  of  his  office.  Let  military 
men  give  a  part  of  their  pay  Let  the  mer- 
chant give  a  part  of  the  profits  of  his  trade. 
Let  the  mechanic  give  a  part  of  the  labour 
of  his  hands.  Let  the  minister  consecrate  a 
part  of  what  his  ministry  produces.  Let  the 
young  man  give  a  part  of  his  pleasures.  Let 
the  lady  bestow  a  part  of  her  ornaments.  Let 
the  dissipated  give  the  poor  that  '  box  of 
ointment,'  which  was  intended,  for  profane 
uses.  Let  the  native  of  these  provinces  give 
a  part  of  his  patrimony  :  and  let  the  refugee 
give  a  part  of  what  he  has  saved  from  the 
fury  of  the  ocean  when  his  vessel  was  dashed  to 
pieces ;  and  with  a  part  of  these  remnants 
let  him  kindle  a  fire  to  offer  sacrifices  to  thafe 
God  who  saved  him  from  perishing  by  ship- 
wreck. 

My  brethren,  I  know  not  what  emotions  of 
joy  penetrate  and  transport  me.  I  know  not 
what  emotions  of  my  heart  promise  me,  that 
this  discourse  will  be  attended  with  more  suc- 
cess than  all  we  have  ever  addressed  to  you. 
Ye  stewards  of  our  charity,  ask  boldly.  Come 
into  our  houses  'ye  blessed  of  the  Lord,'  and 
receive  alms  of  a  people  who  will  contribute 
with  joy,  yea,  even  with  gratitude  and  thanks. 

But,  my  brethren,  we  are  not  yet  content 
with  you.  Should  you  exceed  all  our  expec- 
tations ;  should  you  give  all  your  fortune ; 
should  you  leave  no  poor  hereafter  among 
you ;  all  this  would  not  satisfy  me.  I  speak 
not  only  for  the  interest  of  the  poor,  but  for 
your  own  interest ;  we  wish  you  to  give  yoHi- 
charities  with  the  same  view.  In  giving  your 
alms,  give  your  minds,  give  your  hearts. 
Commit  to  .lesus  Christ  not  only  a  little  por- 
tion oi  your  property,  but  your  bodies,  your 
souls,  yonr  salvation,  that  so  you  may  be  able 
to  sav  in  the  agonies  of  death, '  I  kiicnv  whout 


448 


CHRISTIAN  HEROISM. 


I  have  trusted,  and  I  am  persuaded  that  he  is  i  ;^rant  us  this  grace, 
able  to  keep  that  ■which  I  have  committed  unto    glory  for  ever, 
him  against  that  day,'   2  Tim.  i.    12.     God  j 


[Ser.  LI. 
To  him  be  honour  and 


SERMON  L.1. 


CHRISTIAN     H  E  R  O  I  S  M. 


Pr.ovERBs  xiv.  32. 
lie  that  rideih  his  spirit^  is  better  than  he  that  taketh  a  city. 

^^^^ERE  we  to  judge  of  these  words  by  the  j  and    custom,  eradicate  prejudice,  undertake 
first  impressions  they  make  on  the  mind,  we    the  conquest  of  yourself,  carry  fire  and  sword 


should  place  them  among  such  hyberbolical 
propositions  as  the  imagination  forms  to  colour 
und  exceed  truth.  The  mind  on  some  occa- 
sions is  so  struck  as  to  magnify  the  object  in 
contemplation.  The  more  susceptible  people 
are  of  lively  impressions,  the  more  subject 
they  are  to  declamation  and  hyperbole.  We 
tind  these  maxims  sometimes  necessary  in  ex- 
plaining the  sacred  authors.  Were  we  to  ad- 
here scrupulously  to  their  words,  we  ghould 
often  mistake  their  meaning,  and  extend  their 
thoughts  beyond  due  bounds.  The  people 
«f  the  east  seldom  express  themselves  with 
precision.  A  cloud  intercepting  a  few  rays 
of  light  is  the 'sun  darkened.'  A  meteor  in 
the  air,  is,  'the  powers  of  the  heavens  sha- 
ken.' Jonah  in  the  belly  of  the  fish,  is  a  man 
'doivn  at  the  bottom  of  the  mountains.' 
Thunder  is  the  '  voice  of  Jehovah,  powerful 
and  full  of  majesty,  dividing  flames  of  fire, 
breaking  cedars  of  Lebanon,  making  Siiion 
skip,  and  stripping  forests  bare.'  A  jwarm  of 
insects  is, '  a  nation  set  in  battle-array,  march- 


into  the  most  sensible  part  of  your  soul,  enter 
the  lists  with  your  darling  sin,  '  mortify  your 
members  -which  are  upon  earth,'  rise  above 
flesh  and  blood,  nature  and  self-love,  and,  to 
say  all  in  one  word,  eivleavour  to  *■  rule  your 
spirit ;'  and  j'ou  will  find  that  Solomon  has  ri- 
gorously observed  the  laws  of  precision,  that 
he  has  spoken  the  language  of  logic,  and  not 
of  oratory,  and  that  there  is  not  a  shadow  of 
hyperbole  or  exaggeration  in  this  proposition, 
'  He  that  ruleth  his  spirit,  is  better  than  he 
that  taketh  a  city.' 

But  to  what  period  shall  we  refer  the 
explication  of  the  text.^  We  will  make 
meditation'^supply  the  place  of  experience,  and 
we  will  establish  a  truth  which  the  greatest 
part  of  you  have  not  experienced,  and  which 
perhaps  you  never  will  experience.  This  is 
the  design  of  this  discourse.  Our  subject  is 
true  heroism,  the  real  hero. 

I  enter  into  the  matter.  The  word  heroism 
is  borrowed  of  the  heathens.  They  called 
those  men  heroes,  Avhom  a  remainder  of  mo- 


in<'  everyone  on  his  ways,  not  breaking  their  {  desty  and  religion  prevented  their  puttmg  m- 
ranks,  besieging  a  city,  having  the  teeth  of  a  |  to  the  number  of  their  gods,  but  who,  for 
lion,  and  the  cheek  teeth  of  a  great  lion,'  Joel    the  glory  of  their  exploits,  were  too  great  to 


i,  6 ;  and  ii.  7.  9 

If  we  be  ever  authorized  to  solve  a  diffi- 
cult text  by  examining  the  licence  of  hyper- 
bolical style  ;  if  ever  it  be  necessary  to  reduce 
hyperbole  to  precision,  is  it  not  so  now  in  ex- 
lilaining  the  text  before  us,  '  lie  that  ruleth 
Jiis  spirit,  is  belter  than  he  tliat  taketh  a 
city  ?'  What  justness  can  there  be  ni  compa- 
ring a  man.  who  by  reflection  corrects  his 
passions,  with  a  hero  who,  in  virtue  of  con- 
certed plans,  great  fatigues,  spending  days 
and  nights  on  horseback,  surmounting  diffi- 
culties, enduring  heat?  and  colds,  braving  a 
variety  of  dangers,  at  last  arrives,  by  march- 
ing through  a  shower  ol  shot,  darkening  the 
air,  to  cut  through  a  squadron,  to  scale  a  wall, 
iind  to  hoist  his  flag  in  a  conquered  city. 

But  however  just  this  commentary  may 
appear,  you  will  make  no  use  of  it  here,  un- 
less you  place  Christianity  in  the  exercise  of 
easy  virtues,  and  after  the  example  of  most 
men  accommodate  religion  to  your  passions,  in- 
stead of  reforming  your  passions  by  religion. 
l?ndeavour  to  form  principles,  resist  li\Shion 


be  enrolled  ainong  mere  men.  Let  us  puri- 
fy this  idea :  the  man  oi  whom  Solomon 
speaks,  '  he  who  ruleth  his  spirit,'  ought  not 
to  be  confounded  with  the  rest  of  mankind ; 
he  is  a  man  transformed  by  grace  ;  one  who, 
to  use  the  language  of  Scripture,  is  a  partaker 
of  the  divine  nature.'  We  are  going  to  speak 
of  this  man,  and  we  will  first  describe  him, 
and  next  set  forth  his  magnanimity,  or,  to  keep 
to  the  text,  we  will  first  explain  what  it  is  to 
'  rule  the  spirit,'  and  secondly,  we  will  prove, 
that  '  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  is  better  than 
he  that  taketh  a  city.'  If  we  proceed  farther, 
it  will  only  be  to  add  a  few  reflections,  tending 
to  convince  you,  that  you  are  called  to  hero- 
ism ;  that  there  is  no  middle  way  in  religion  ; 
that  you  must  of  necessity  either  bear  tlie 
shame  and  infamy  of  being  mean  and  dastardly 
souls,  or  be  crowned  with  the  glory  of  heroes. 
I.  Let  us  first  explain  the  words  of  the  text, 
'  to  rule  the  spirit.'  Few  words  are  more 
equivocal  in  the  sacred  language  than  this 
which  our  interpreters  have  rendered  spirit. 
It  is  put  in  difierent  places  for  the  thoughts  of 


Ser.  LI.] 


CHRISTIAN  HEROISM. 


419 


the  mind,  the  passions  of  tiie  heart,  the  emo-  j 
tions  of  sense,  phantoms  of  imagination,  and 
illusions  oi concupiscence.  We  will  not  trou- 
ble you  with  grammatical  dissertations.  In 
our  idiom,  *  to  rule  the  spirit'  (and  this  is 
precisely  the  idea  of  Solomon),  '  to  rule  the 
?pirit,'  is  never  to  suffer  one's  self  to  be  pre- 
judiced by  false  ideas  always  to  see  things  in 
their  true  point  of  view  ;  to  regulate  our  ha- 
tred and  our  love,  our  desires  and  our  inac- 
tivity, exactly  according  to  the  knowletige  we 
have  obtained  after  mature  deliberation,  that 
objects  are  worthy  of  our  esteem,  or  deserve 
our  aversion,  that  they  are  worth  obtaining, 
or  proper  to  be  neglected. 

But  as  this  manner  of  speaking  '  to  rule 
the  spirit,'  supposes  exercise,  pains,  labours, 
and  resistance,  we  ought  not  to  confine  our- 
selves to  the  general  idea  which  we  have 
given.  We  consider  man  in  three  points  of 
light  :  in  regard  to  his  natural  dispositions  ;  in 
regard  to  the  objects  that  surround  him;  and 
in  regard  to  the  habits  which  he  has  con- 
tracted. 

1.  Consider  the  natural  dispositions  of  man : 
Man,  as  soon  as  he  is  in  the  world,  finds  him- 
self the  slave  of  his  heart,  instead  of  being 
master  of  it.  I  mean,  that  instead  of  a  natural 
facility  to  admit  only  what  is  true,  and  to  love 
only  what  is  amiable,  he  feels  I  know  not 
wliat  interior  power,  which  indisposes  him  to 
truth  and  virtue,  and  conciliates  him  to  vice 
and  falsehood. 

I  am  not  going  to  agitate  the  famous  ques- 
tion of  free-will,  nor  to  enter  the  lists  with 
those,  who  are  noted  in  the  church  for  the  he- 
resy of  denying  the  doctrine  of  human  depra- 
vity ;  nor  will  I  repeat  all  the  arguments  good 
and  bad,  which  are  alleged  against  it.  If 
Hiere  be  a  subject  in  which  we  ought  to  have 
no  implicit  faith,  either  in  those  who  deny  or 
in  those  who  affirm  ;  if  there  be  a  subject,  in 
the  discussion  of  which  they  wlio  embrace 
the  side  of  eiTor  advance  truth,  and  they  who 
embrace  the  side  of  truth  advance  falsehoods, 
this  is  certainly  the  subject.  But  we  will  not 
litigate  this  doctrine.  We  will  allege  here 
only  one  proof  of  our  natural  depravity,  that 
shall  be  taken  from  experience,  and,  for  evi- 
dence of  this  fatal  truth,  we  refer  each  of  you 
to  his  own  feelings. 

Is  virtue  to  be  practised  ?  Who  does  not 
feel,  as  soon  as  he  is  capable  of  observing,  an 
inward  power  of  resistance  ?  By  tiirtue  here, 
I  understand  a  universal  disposition  of  an  in- 
telligent soul  to  devote  itself  to  order,  and  to 
regulate  its  conduct  as  order  requires.  Order 
demands,  that  when  I  suffer,  I  should  submit 
myself  to  the  mighty  hand  of  God,  which  af- 
flicts me.  When  I  am  in  prosperity,  order  re- 
quires me  to  acknowledge  the  bounty  of  my 
benefactor.  If  1  pos-ess  talents  superior  to 
those  of  ray  neigbor,  order  requires  me  to  use 
them  for  the  glory  of  him,  from  whom  1  re- 
ceived them.  If  I  am  obliged  to  acknowledge 
that  my  neighbor  has  a  richer  endowment  than 
J,  order  requires  me  to  acquiesce  with  submis- 
sion, and  to  acknowledge  with  humility  this 
difference  of    endowment ;    should   1   revolt 


with  insolence,  or  dispute  through  jealousy  or 
self-love,  I  should  act  disorderly. 

What  I  affirm  of  virtue,  that  it  is  a  general 
disposition,  that  I  aifirm  also  in  regard  to  an 
indisposition  to  sin.  'J'o  avoid  vice  is  to  desist 
alike  Irom  every  thing  contrary  to  order,  from 
slander  and  anger,  from  indolence  and  volup- 
tuousness, and  so  on. 

He  who  forms  such  ideas  of  the  obligations 
of  men,  will  have  too  many  reasons  to  ac- 
knowledge, by  his  own  inward  feelings  and 
experience,  that  we  bring  into  the  world  with 
us  propensities  hostile  and  fatal  to  such  obli- 
gations. Some  of  these  are  in  the  body  ; 
others  in  the  mind. 

Some  are  in  the  bodjj.  Who  is  there  that 
finds  in  his  senses  that  suppleness  and  rea- 
diness of  compliance  with  a  volition,  which 
is  itself  directed  by  lav.'s  of  order.''  Wh(\ 
does  not  feel  his  constitution  rebel  against  vir- 
tue ?  1  am  not  speaking  now  of  such  men  aa 
brutally  give  themselves  up  to  their  senses, 
who  consult  no  other  laws  than  the  revolu- 
tions of  their  own  minds,  and  who,  having 
abandoned  for  many  years  the  government  of 
their  souls  to  the  humours  of  their  bodies, 
have  lost  all  dominion  over  their  senses.  I 
speak  of  such  as  have  the  most  sincere  desire 
to  hear  and  obey  the  laws  of  order.  How  of- 
ten does  a  tender  and  charitable  soul  find  in  a 
body  subject  to  violence  and  anger  obstacles 
against  the  exercise  of  its  charity  and  tender- 
ness? How  often  does  a  soul,  penetrated  with 
respect  for  the  laws  of  purity,  find  in  a  body 
rebellious  against  this  virtue  terrible  obsta- 
cles, to  which  it  is  in  a  manner  constrained  to 
yield  ? 

Disorder  is  not  only  in  the  body  ;  the  sotrL 
is  in  the  same  condition.  Consult  yourselves 
in  regard  to  such  virtues  and  vices  as  are,  su 
to  speak,  altogetlier  spiritual,  and  have  no  re- 
lation, or  a  very  distant  one,  to  matter,  and 
you  will  find  you  brought  into  the  world  an 
indisposition  to  some  ol  these  virtues,  and  an 
inclination  to  tiie  opposite  vices.  For  exam- 
ple, avarice  is  one  of  these  spiritual  vice?, 
having  only  a  very  distant  relation  to  matter. 
I  do  not  mean  that  avarice  does  not  incline  U:3 
towards  sensible  objects,  I  only  say,  that  it  is  a 
passion  less  seated  in  the  material  than  in  the 
spiritual  part  of  man  ;  it  rises  rather  out  of 
rellcctions  oi"  the  mind,  than  out  of  motions  of 
the  body.  Yet  how  many  people  are  bonv 
sordid  ;  people  always  inclined  to  amass  mo- 
ney, and  to  whom  the  bare  thought  of  giving, 
or  parting  with  any  thing,  gives  pain ;  people 
who  prove,  by  the  very  manner  in  which 
they  exercise  the  laws  of  generosity,  that  they 
are  naturally  inclined  to  violate  them  ;  peo- 
ple who  never  give  except  by  constraint,  who 
tear  away,  as  it  were,  what  they  bestow  on 
the  necessities  of  the  poor  ;  and  who  never  cut 
off  those  dear  parts  of  themselves,  without 
taking  the  most  affsctionate  leave  of  them  i' 
Envy  and  jealousy  are  dispositions  of  the  kind 
which  we  call  spiritual.  They  have  their 
seat  in  the  soul.  There  are  many  ])ersons 
who  acknowledge  the  injustice  and  baseness 
of  these  vices,  and  who  hate  them,  and  who 


450 


CHRISTIAN  IIEROrS^r. 


[Seu.  LI. 


nevertheless  are  not  sufiicient  masters  of  them- 
f^elves  to  prevent  the  dominion  of  them,  at 
least  to  prevent  a  repetition  of  them,  and  net 
to  find  sometimes  their  own  misery  in  the 
jirosperity  of  other  persons. 

As  we  feel  in  our  constitution  obstacles  to 
virtue,  and  propensities  to  vice,  so  we  perceive 
also  inclinations  to  error,  and  obstaclesto  truth. 
These  things  are  closely  connected  ;  for  if  we 
fmd  within  us  natural  obstacles  to  virtue,  we 
find  for  that  very  reason  natural  obstacles  to 
truth ;  and  if  we  be  born  with  propensities 
to  vice,  we  are  born  on  that  very  account 
prone  to  error.  Strictly  speaking,  all  ideas  of 
vice  may  be  referred  to  one,  that  is  to  error. 
Every  vice,  every  irregular  passion,  openly 
or  tacitly  implies  a  falsehood.  Every  vice, 
every  irregular  passion  includes  this  error, 
that  a  man  who  gratifies  his  passion,  is  hap- 
pier than  he  who  restrains  and  moderates  it. 
Now  every  man  judging  in  this  manner,  whe- 
tlier  he  do  so  openly  or  covertly,  takes  the 
side  of  error.  If  we  be  then  naturally  inclin- 
ed to  some  vices  we  are  naturally  inclined  to 
some  errors,  I  mean,  to  admit  that  false  pria- 
riple  on  which  the  irregular  passion  estab- 
lishes the  vice  it  would  commit,  the  desire  of 
gratification.  An  impassionate  man  is  not  free 
to  discern  truth  from  falsehood,  at  least,  he 
oannot  without  extreme  constraint  discern  the 
one  from  the  other.  He  is  inclined  to  fix  his 
mind  on  what  favours  his  passion,  changes  its 
nature,  and  disguises  vice  in  the  habit  of  vir- 
tue ;  and,  to  say  all  in  one  word,  he  is  impelled 
to  fix  his  mind  on  wiiatever  makes  truth  ap- 
pear false,  and  falsehood  true. 

I  conclude,  the  disposition  of  mind  of  which 
Solomon  speaks,  and  which  he  describes  by 
■ruling  the  spirit,  supposes  labour,  constraint, 
and  exercise.  A  man  who  would  acquire  this 
noble  disposition  of  mind,  a  man  who  would 
rule  his  spirit, must  in  some  sort  recreate  him- 
self; he  finds  himself  at  once,  if  1  may  be  al- 
lowed to  say  so,  at  war  with  nature  ;  his  body 
must  be  formeil  anew  ;  his  humours  and  his 
spirits  must  be  turned  into  another  channel ; 
violence  must  be  done  to  all  the  powers  of  his 
soul. 

2.  Having  considered  man  in  regard  to  his 
natural  dispositions,  observe  him  secondly  in 
regard  to  surrounding  objects.  Here  you 
will  obtain  a  second  exposition  of  Solomon's 
words,  '  He  that  rulelh  his  spirit ;'  you  will 
have  a  second  class  of  evidences  of  that  exer- 
cise, labour,  and  constraint,  which  true  hero- 
ism supposes.  Society  is  composed  of  many 
f  nemies,  who  socm  to  be  taking  pains  to  iii- 
•jrease  those  diiliculties  which  our  natural  dis- 
positions oppose  against  truth  and  virtue. 

f^xamine  the  members  of  this  society  among 
whom  we  are  appointed  to  live,  consult  their 
ideas,  hear  their  conversation,  weigh  their 
reasonings,  and  you  will  find  almost  every 
where  false  judgments,  errors,  mistakes,  and 
prejudices;  prejudices  of  birth,  taken  from 
our  parents,  the  nurses  who  suckled  us,  the 
people  who  made  the  habits  in  which  we 
were  wrapped  in  our  cradles  ;  prejudices  ol 
education,  taken  from  the  masters  to  whom 
the  care  of  cur  earlier  daj-s  was  committed, 


from  some  false  ideas  which  they  had  imbibeti 
in  their  youth,  and  from  other  illusions  which 
they  had  created  themselves;  prejudices  of 
country,  taken  from  the  genius  of  the  people 
among  whom  we  have  lived,  and,  so  to  speak, 
from  the  very  air  we  have  breathed;  preju- 
dices of  religum,  taken  from  our  calechists, 
from  the  divines  we  have  consulted,  from  the 
pastors  by  whom  we  have  been  directed,  from 
the  sect  we  have  embraced;  prejudices  of 
friendship,  taken  from  the  connexion  we  have 
had,  and  the  company  we  have  kept ;  preju- 
dices of  trade  and  profession,  taken  from  the 
mechanical  arts  we  have  followed,  or  the  ab- 
stract sciences  we  have  studied  ;  prejudices  of 
fortune,  taken  from  the  condition  of  life  in 
which  we  have  been,  either  among  the  noble 
or  the  poor.  This  is  only  a  small  part  of  the 
canals  by  which  error  is  conveyed  to  us. 
What  efforts  must  a  man  make,  what  pains 
must  he  take  with  himself  to  preserve  him- 
self from  contagion,  to  hold  his  soul  perpetual- 
ly in  equilibrium,  to  keep  all  the  gates  of  er- 
ror shut,  and  incessantly  to  maintain,  amidst 
so  many  prejudices,  that  freedom  of  judgment 
which  weighs  argument  against  objection, 
objection  against  argument,  which  deliberate- 
ly examines  all  that  can  be  advanced  in  fa- 
vour of  a  proposition,  and  all  that  can  be  said 
against  it ;  which  considers  an  object  in  every 
point  of  view,  and  which  makes  us  deter- 
mine only  as  we  are  constrained  by  the  irre- 
sistible authority,  and  by  the  soft  violence  cf 
truth,  demonstration,  and  evidence  ? 

As  the  men  who  surround  us  fascinate  us  by 
their  errors,  so  they  decoy  us  into  vice  by  their 
example.  In  all  places,  and  in  all  ages,  virtue 
had  fewer  partisans  than  vice ;  in  all  ages  and 
in  all  places,  the  friends  of  virtue  were  so 
few  in  comparison  of  the  partisans  of  vice,  that 
the  saints  complain,  that  the  earth  was  not  in- 
habited by  men  of  the  first  kind,  and  that  the 
whole  world  was  occupied  by  the  latter,  '  the 
godly  man  ceaseth ;  the  faithful  fail  from 
among  the  children  of  men,  tlie  Lord  looked 
down  from  heaven  upon  the  children  of  men, 
to  see  if  there  were  any  that  did  understand, 
and  seek  God.  They  are  all  gone  aside,  they 
are  altogether  become  filthy ;  there  is  none 
that  doeth  good,  no  not  one,'  Ps.  xii.  1,  and 
xiv.  '2,  3.  An  exaggeration  of  the  prophet,  I 
grant,  but  an  exaggeration  for  which  the  uni- 
versality of  human  depravity  has  given  too 
much  occasion.  Cast  your  eyes  attentively 
on  society,  you  will  be,  as  our  prophet  was, 
1  astonished  at  the  great  number  ol  the  parti- 
sans of  vice  :  you  will  be  troubled,  as  he  was, 
to  distinguish  in  the  crowd  any  friends  of  vii- 
tue  ;  and  you  will  find  yourself  inclined  to  say, 
as  he  said,  '  there  is  none  that  doeth  good,  no 
not  one.' 

But  how  difficult  is  it  to  resist  example,  and 
to  rule  the  spirit  among  such  a  number  of  ty- 
rants, w!io  aim  only  to  enslave  it !  In  order  to 
resist  example,  we  must  incessantly  oppose 
those  natural  inclinations  which  ur^c  us  to  im- 
itation. To  resist  example,  we  must  not  suf- 
fer ourselves  to  be  dazzled  either  with  the 
[  number  or  the  splendour  of  such  as  have 
i  placed  vice  on  a  throne.     To  resist  example. 


Seb.  LI.] 


CHRISTIAN  HEROISM. 


451 


■we  must  brave  pei'scculion,  and  all  the  incon-  j 
venience?  to  ■which  worldly  people  never  fail  i 
to  expose  them   who  refuse  to   follow  them  , 
down  the  precipice.     To  resist  example,  we  ; 
must  love  virtue  for  virtue's  sake.     To  resist  I 
example,   we  must  transport  ourselves    into  | 
another  world,  imagine  ourselves  among- those  | 
holy  societies  who  surround  the  throne  of  a 
holy  God,  who  make  his  excellences  the  con- 
tinual matter  of  their  adoration  and  homage, 
and  who  fly  at  the  first  signal  of  his  hand,  the 
tirst  breath  of  his  mouth.  What  a  work,  what 
a  difficult  work  for  you,  poor  mortal,  whose 
eyes  are  always  turned  towards  the  earth,  and 
whom  your  own  involuntary  and  insurmount- 
able weight  incessantly  carries  downward  ! 

3.  Finally,  We  must  acknowledge  what 
labour,  pains,  and  resistance,  the  disposition 
of  which  Solomon  speaks  requires,  if  we  con- 
sider man  in  regard  to  the  habits  which  he 
has  contracted.  As  soon  as  we  enter  into  the 
■world,  we  find  ourselves  impelled  by  our  natu- 
ral propensities,  stunned  with  the  din  of  our 
passions,  and,  as  I  just  now  said,  seduced  by 
the  errors,  and  carried  away  by  the  examples 
of  our  companions.  Seldom  in  the  first  years 
of  life,  do  we  surmount  that  natural  bias,  and 
that  power  of  example,  which  impel  us  to 
falsehood  and  sin.  Most  men  have  done  more 
acts  of  vice  than  of  virtue ;  consequently,  in 
the  course  of  a  certain  number  of  years,  we 
contribute  by  our  way  of  living  to  join  to  the 
depravity  of  nature  that  which  comes  from  ex- 
ercise and  habit.  A  man  who  would  rule  his 
spiritfis  then  required  to  eradicate  the  habits 
■^vhich  have  taken  possession  of  him.  What  a 
task! 

What  a  task,  when  we  endeavour  to  prevent 
the  return  of  ideas  which,  for  many  years,  our 
minds  have  revolved!  What  a  task,  to  de- 
fend one's  self  from  a  passion  which  knows  all 
the  avenues  of  the  mind,  and  how  to  facilitate 
access  by  means  of  tlie  body  !  What  a  task, 
to  turn  away  from  the  flattering  images,  and 
seducing  solicitations  of  concupiscence  long  ac- 
customed to  gratification  !  What  a  task,  when 
"we  are  obliged  to  make  the  greatest  efforts  in 
the  weakest  part  of  life,  and  to  subdue  an  ene- 
iuy,  whom  we  have  been  always  used  to  con- 
sider as  unconquerable  ;  and  whom  we  never 
durst  attack,  when  he  had  no  other  arms  than 
■what  we  chose  to  give  him,  and  enjoyed  no 
other  advantages  than  such  as  we  thought 
proper  to  allow!  Such  labour,  such  pains  and 
constraint  must  he  experience  who  acquires 
the  art  of  riding  his  spirit !  Now  then,  as 
we  have  explained  this  disposition  of  mind, 
let  us  assign  tlie  place  which  is  due  to  him 
who  has  it.  Having  given  an  idea  of  real  he- 
roism, we  must  display  the  grandeur  of  it,  and 
prove  the  proposition  in  my  text, '  he  that  ru- 
Icth  his  spirit,  is  better  than  he  that  taketh  a 
city.' 

11.  For  this  purpose,  it  is  not  necessary  to 
observe,  that,  by  '  him  that  taketh  a  city,'  So- 
lomon does  not  mean  a  man  who,  from  princi- 
ples of  virtue,  to  defend  his  country  and  reli- 
gion, hazards  his  life  and  liberty  in  a  just  war  ; 
in  this  view,  he  that  taketh  a  city,  and  he  that 
nilcth  his  spirit,  is  one   an'.l  the  same  man. 


Solomon  intends  conquerors,  who'live,  if  I  may 
express  myself  so,  upon  victories  and  conquests ; 
he  intends  heroes,  such  as  the  world  considers 
(hem. 

Neither  is  it  necessary  precisely  to  fix  the 
bounds  of  this  general  expression,  is  better, 
'  He  that  ruleth  his  spirit,  is  better  than  he 
that  taketh  a  city.'  The  sense  is  easily  un- 
derstood ;  in  general,  it  signifies  that '  he  that 
ruleth  his  spirit,'  discovers  more  fortitude, 
more  magnanimity,  and  more  courage;  that 
he  has  more  just  ideas  of  glory,  and  is  more 
worthy  of  esteem  and  praise,  than  they  who 
are  called  in  the  world  conquerors  and  heroes. 
We  will  prove  this  proposition,  by  compar- 
ing the  hero  of  the  world  with  the  Christian 
hero  :  and  we  will  confine  the  comparison  to 
four  articles ;  first,  the  motives  which  animate 
them  ;  secondly,  the  exploits  they  perform  ; 
thirdly,  the  enemies  they  attack  ;  and  lastly, 
the  rewards  they  obtain.  'He  that  taketh  a 
city,'  is  animated  with  motives  mean  and 
worldly,  which  degrade  an  intelligent  soul, 
even  while  they  seem  to  elevate  it  to  a  pinna- 
cle of  grandeur  and  glory  ;  but '  he  that  rulelh 
his  spirit,'  is  animated  by  motives  grand,  no- 
ble, and  sublime,  every  way  suited  to  the  ex- 
cellence of  our  nature,  'fie  that  ruleth  his 
spirit,'  is  capable  of  all  the  exploits  of  him  that 
taketh  a  city  ;  but  '  he  that  taketh  a  city,'  is 
not  capable  of  the  exploits  of '  him  that  ruleth 
his  spirit.'  '  He  that  taketh  a  city,'  attacks 
an  exterior  enemy,  to  whom  he  has  no  attach- 
ment ;  but '  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit,'  attacks 
an  enemy  who  is  dear  to  him,  and  has  the 
greatness  of  soul  to  turn  his  arms  against  him- 
self. In  fine,  'he  that  taketh  a  city,'  is  crown- 
ed only  by  idiots,  who  have  no  just  notions  of 
grandeur  and  heroism  ;  but '  he  that  ruletli 
his  spirit,'  will  be  crowned  with  the  hands  of 
the  only  just  appraiser  and  dispenser  of  glory. 
These  are  four  titles  of  superiority  which  the 
Christian  hero  has  over  the  false  hero,  four 
sources  of  proofs  to  establish  the  proposition 
in  our  text, '  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit,  is  better 
than  he  that  taketh  a  city.' 

1.  Let  us  consider  the  motives  which  ani- 
mate a  conqueror'  that  taketh  a  city,'  and  the 
motives  which  animate  a  man  that  obtains 
'  rule  over  his  spirit ;'  the  motives  of  the  true 
hero,  with  themotives  of  the  false  hero.  What 
are  the  motives  of  a  false  hero?  What  spirit 
animates  him,  when  he  undertakes  to  conquer 
a  city.'  This  is  one  of  the  questions  which 
sinful  passions  have  most  obscured.  Truth  is 
disguised  in  epistles  dedicatory,  and  in  profane 
eulogiums,  yea,  sometimes  in  religious  dis-- 
courses.  The  majesty  of  a  victorious  general, 
the  glory  of  a  conqueror,  the  pompous  titles  of 
victor,  arbiter  of  peace,  arbiter  of  war,  have 
so  dazzled  us,  and  in  some  sort  so  perverted 
the  powers  of  our  soul,  that  we  cannot  form 
just  notions  of  this  suoject.  Hear  pure  na- 
ture, formerly  speaking  by  the  mouth  of  a 
nation,  who  were  the  more  wise  for  not  being- 
civilized  by  the  injustice  of  our  laws  and  cus- 
toms. I  speak  of  the  ancient  Scythians.  The 
most  famous  taker  of  cities  came  to  their  ca- 
bins and  caverns.  He  had  already  subdued 
his  fcllow-citlzeiis  and  neighbours.     Alreadv 


'15^2 


CHRISTIAN  HEROISM. 


[ftER.  LI. 


Thebes  atiQ  Athens,  Thrace  and  Thessaly, 
had  submitted  to  his  arms.  Already,  Greece 
being  too  small  a  sphere  of  action  for  him,  he 
}iad  penetrated  even  into  Pesia,  passed  the  fa- 
mous Phrygian  river,  where  he  slew  six  hun- 
dred thousand  men,  reduced  Caria  and  Judea, 
made  war  with  Darius,  and  conquered  him, 
performed  exploits  more  than  human,  and,  in 
spite  of  nature,  besieged  and  tooli  Tyre,  the 
most  famous  siege  recorded  in  ancient  history, 
subjugated  the  Mardi  and  Bactrians,  attained 
the  mountains  Caucasus  and  Oxus,  and,  in  a 
word,  conquered  more  countries,  and  enslaved 
more  people,  than  we  can  descrii.e,  or  even 
mention  within  the  limits  allotted  to  this  ex- 
ercise. This  man  arrives  in  Scythia.  The 
.Scythians  sent  deputies  to  him,  who  thus  ad- 
dressed him :  '  Had  the  gods  given  you  a  bo- 
dy proportioned  to  your  ambition,  the  whole 
universe  would  have  been  too  little  for  you  : 
•with  one  hand  you  will  liave  touched  the  east, 
and  with  the  other  the  west,  and,  not  content 
with  this,  you  would  have  followed  the  sun, 
and  have  seen  where  he  hides  himself.  What- 
ever you  arc,  you  are  aspiring  at  what  you 
can  never  obtain.  From  Europe,  you  run 
into  Asia,  and  from  Asia  back  j'ou  run  again 
into  Europe ;  and,  having  enslaved  all  man- 
kind, you  attack  rivers,  and  forests,  and  wild 
beasts.  What  have  you  to  do  with  us?  We 
have  never  set  foot  in  your  country.  May  not 
a  people  living  in  a  desert  be  allowed  to  be 
ignorant  of  Vv'ho  you  are,  and  whence  you 
come.''  You  boast  of  ha\ing  exterminated 
robbers,  and  you  yourself  are  the  greatest  rob- 
ber in  the  world.  You  have  pillaged  and 
plundered  all  nations,  and  now  you  come  to 
rob  us  of  our  cattle.  It  is  in  vain  to  fill  your 
hands  for  yon  are  always  in  search  of  fresh 
prey.  Of  what  use  are  3'our  boundless  riches, 
except  to  irritate  your  eternal  thirst .''  You 
are  the  first  man  who  ever  experienced  such 
oxtreme  want  in  the  midst  of  such  abundance. 
All  you  have  serves  only  to  make  you  desire 
with  more  fury  what  you  have  not.  If  you 
be  a  god,  do  good  to  mankind  ;  but  if  you  be 
tinly  an  insignificant  mortal,  think  of  what  you 
are,  and  remember  that  it  is  a  great  folly  to 
occupy  things  which  make  us  forget  our- 
selves.'*=  These  are  the  motives  which  ani- 
)nate  the  heroes  of  the  world ;  these  are  the 
sentiments  which  are  disguised  under  the  fine 
names  of  glory,  valour,  greatness  of  soul,  he- 
roism. An  insatiable  avidity  of  riches,  an  in- 
\'inciple  pride,  a  boundless  ambition,  a  total 
forgetfulness  of  what  is,  what  ought  to  be,  and 
what  must  be  hereafter. 

The  motives  of  him  who  endeavours  to  ren- 
der himself  master  of  his  own  heart,  are  love 
of  order,  desire  of  freedom  from  the  slavery  of 
the  passions,  a  noble  firmness  of  soul,  which 
admits  only  what  appears  true,  and  loves  only 
what  appears  lovely,  after  sober  and  serious 
discussion.  In  this  first  view,  then,  the  advan 
tage  is  wholly  in  favour  of  '  him  that  ruleth 
his  spirit.  He  that  ruleth  his  spirit,  is  better 
than  he  that  taketh  a  city.' 

2.  Compare,  ii>  the  second  place,  the '  ex- 


■  Quintus  CurtiuSj  lib.  vii.  cap.S. 


ploits  of  him  that  ruleth  Iiis  spirit,  with  the 
exploits  of '  him  that  taketh  a  city.'  He  who 
IS  capable  of*  ruling  his  spirit,'  is  capable  of 
all  that  is  great  and  noble  in  '  him  that  taketh 
a  city ;'  but  *■  he  that  taketh  a  city,'  is  not  capa- 
ble of  all  that  is  great  and  magnanimous  in 
'  him  that  ruleth  his  spirit.'  I  will  explain 
myself. 

What  is  there  great  and  magnanimous  in  a 
hero  that  takes  a  city?  Patience  to  endure 
fatigue,  to  surmount  difficulties,  to  sufler  con- 
tradiction ;  intrepidity  in  the  most  frightful 
dangers;  presence  of  mind  in  the  most  violent 
and  painful  exercises  ;  unshaken  firmness  in 
sight  of  a  near  and  terrible  dissolution.  These 
are  dispositions  of  mind,  I  grant,  which  seem 
to  elevate  man  above  humanity  ;  but  a  Chris- 
tian hero  is  capable  of  all  this,  I  speak  sin- 
cerely, and  without  a  figure.  A  man,  who 
has  obtained  a  religious  freedom  of  mind,  who 
always  preserves  this  liberty,  who  always 
weighs  good  and  evil,  who  believes  only  what 
is  true,  and  does  only  what  is  right ;  who  has 
always  his  eye  upon  his  duty,  or,  as  the  psalm- 
ist expresfcs  it,  who  '  sets  the  Lord  always  be- 
fore him, 'such  a  man  is  capable,  literally  ca- 
pable, of  all  you  admire  in  a  worldly  hero. 
No  difficulty  discourages  him,  no  contradiction 
disconcerts  him,  no  fatigue  stops  him,  no  dan- 
gers affright  him,  no  pain  but  he  can  bear,  no 
appearance  of  death  shocks  him  into  paleness, 
and  fear,  and  .light.  Our  women  and  child-^ 
ren,  our  confessors  and  martyrs,  have  literally 
performed  greater  exploits  of  fortitude,  pa- 
tience, courage,  and  constancy,  in  convents, 
prisons,  and  dungeons,  at  stakes  and  on  scaf- 
folds, than  Alexanders  and  Cesars  in  all  their 
live.^.  And  where  is  the  hero  of  this  world, 
who  has  performed  so  many  actions  of  courage 
and  magnanimity  in  sieges  and  battles,  as  our 
confessors  have  for  thirty  years  on  board  thn 
galley  ?  The  former  were  supported  by  the 
presence  of  thousands  of  witnesses ;  the  latter 
had  no  spectators  but  God  and  their  own  con- 
sciences. The  Christian  hero  is  capable  then 
of  all  that  is  great  in  the  hero  of  the  world. 
But  the  worldly  hero  is  incapable  of  perform- 
ing such  exploits  as  the  Christian  hero  per- 
forms ;  and  he  knows  perfectly  that  his  hero- 
ism does  not  conduct  him  so  far  in  the  path  of 
glory.  Try  the  strength  of  a  worldly  hero. 
Set  him  to  contend  with  a  passion.  You  will 
soon  find  this  man,  invincible  before,  subdued 
into  slavery  and  shame.  He  who  was  firm 
and  fearless  in  sight  of  fire  and  flame,  at  the 
sound  of  warlike  instruments,  becomes  feeble, 
mean,  and  enervated  by  a  seducing  and  en- 
chanting object.  S.-imson  defeats  the  Philis- 
tines; but  Delilah  subdues  Samson.  Samson 
carries  away  the  gates  of  Gaza  :  but  Samson 
sinks  under  the  weight  of  his  own  sensuality. 
Hercules  seeks  highway  robbers  to  combat, 
and  monsters  to  subdue  ;  but  he  cannot  resist 
impurity.  We  find  hiai  on  monuments  of  an- 
tiquity carrying  an  infant  on  his  shoulders,  an 
emblem  of  voluptuousness,  stooping  under  that 
unworthy  burden,  and  letting  his  club  fall 
from  his  liand.  There  is  therefore  no  decla- 
mation, no  hyperbole  in  our  proposition  ;  the 
Christian  hero  is  capable  of  performing  all  the 


riEK.    LI. J 


CHRISTIAN  Heroism. 


451 


great  actions  performed  by  the  hero  of  the 
world;  but  the  hero  of  the  world  is  incapable 
of  performing  such  noble  actions  as  the  Chris- 
tian hero  performs;  and  in  this  respect,  '  he 
that  rulcth  his  spirit,  is  better  than  he  that 
tuketh  a  city.' 

3.  Compare  'him  that  taketh  a  city  with 
him  that  ruleth  his  spirit,'  in  regard  to  the 
i.aemies  whom  they  attack,  and  you  will  find 
ill  the  latter  a  third  title  of  superiority  over 
the  former.  '  He  that  taketh  a  city,'  attacks 
an  exterior  enemy,  who  is  a  stranger,  and  of- 
ten odious  to  him.  The  ambition  that  fills 
his  soul  leaves  no  room  for  c<»mpassion  and 
pity ;  and,  provided  he  can  but  obtain  his 
end,  no  matter  to  him  though  the  way  be 
strewed  with  the  dying  and  the  dead  ;  to  ob- 
tain that,  he  travels  over  mountains  of  heads, 
and  arms,  and  carcasses.  The  tumultuous  pas- 
sions which  tyrannize  over  him, stifle  the  voice 
•■  of  nature,  and  deafen  him  to  the  cries  of 
a  thousand  miserable  wretches  sacrificed  to 
his  fame. 

The  enemy  whom  the  Christian  combats  is 
his  own  heart ;  for  he  is  required  to  turn  his 
arms  against  himself  He  must  suspend  all 
sentiments  of  self-love  ;  he  must  become  his 
own  executioner,  and,  to  use  the  ideas  and 
expressions  of  Jesus  Christ,  he  must  actually 
'  deny  himself.' 

Jesus  Christ  well  knew  mankind.  He  did 
not  preach  like  some  preaching  novices,  who, 
in  order  to  incline  their  hearers  to  subdue 
their  passions,  propose  the  work  to  them  as 
free  from  difficulty.  Jesus  Christ  did  not  dis- 
guise the  difficulties  which  the  man  must  un- 
dergo who  puts  on  tlic  spirit  of  Christianity  ; 
and  I  do  not  know  whether  we  meet  with  any 
expression  in  the  writings  of  pagan  poets  or 
jihilosophers  more  natural,  and  at  the  same 
time  more  emphatical  than  this ;  '  [f  any  man 
will  come  after  mc  let  him  deny  himself,' 
Matt.  XVI.  24. 

Not  that  this  is  hterally  practicable,  not 
that  man  can  put  off  himself,  not  that  religion 
requires  us  to  sacrifice  to  it  what  makes  the 
essence  and  happiness  of  our  nature;  on  the 
contrary,  strictly  speaking,  il  is  sin  which 
makes  us  put  off  or  deny  wliat  is  great  and 
noble  in  our  essence  ;'  it  is  sin  which  requires 
(IS  to  sacrifice  our  true  happiness  to  it.  If 
Jesus  Christ  expresses  himself  in  Ihis  manner, 
it  is  because  when  man  is  possessed  with  a 
])assion,  it  is  incorporated,  as  it  were,  with 
himself;  it  seems  to  liim  essential  to  his  felici- 
ty ;  every  thing  troubles  and  every  thing 
puts  him  on  the  rack  when  he  cannot  gratify 
it;  witiiout  gratifying  his  passion,  his  food 
has  no  taste,  flowers  no  sm<?l!,  ploasurps  no 
X'oint,  the  sun  is  dark,  society  disagreeable, 
life  itself  has  no  charms.  To  attack  a  reign- 
ing passion  is  'to  deny  self;'  and  '  here  is 
the  patience  of  the  saints  ;'  this  is  the  enemy 
whom  the  Christian  attacks ;  this  is  the  war 
which  he  wages.  How  tremulous  and  weak 
is  the  hand  when  it  touches  a  sword  to  i 
;)lunged  into  one's  own  bosom  !  Love  of  or 
der,  truth  and  virtue,  support  a  Christia 
hero  in  this  almost  desperate  undertaking. 

■J.  In  fine,  conmare  hiui  Hint  rules  his  spi- 

3  M 


rit  with  him  thai  takes  a  cily,  in  regard  to  the 
acdiunattons  with  which  they  are  accompa- 
nied, and  the  crowns  prepared  for  them.  Who 
are  the  authors  of  those  acclamations  with 
which  the  air  resounds  the  praise  of  worldlv 
heroes.''  They  are  courtiers,  poets,  panegy- 
rists, Butv/hat!  are  people  of  this  order  the 
only  persons  who  entertain  just  notions  ol  glo- 
ry? and  if  they  be,  are  they  generous  enough 
to  speak  out .''  How  can  a  soul  wholly  devo- 
ted to  the  will  and  caprice  of  a  conqueror  ; 
how  can  a  venal  creature,  who  makes  a  mar- 
ket of  euingiums  and  praises,  which  he  sells 
to  the  Iiighest  bidder  ;  how  can  a  brutal  sol- 
diery determine  what  is  worthy  of  praise  or 
blame.''  Is  it  for  such  people  to  distribute 
prizes  of  glory,  and  to  assign  heroes  their 
rank.''  To  be  exalted  by  people  of  this  sort 
is  a  shame  ;  to  be  crowned  by  their  hands  an 
infamy. 

Elevate,  elevate  thy  meditation.  Christian 
soul,  rise  into  the  majesty  of  the  Great  Su- 
preme, Think  of  that  sublime  intelligence, 
who  unites  in  his  essence  every  thing  noble 
and  sublime.  Contemplate  God,  surrounded 
with  angels  and  archangels,  cherubim  and 
seraphim.  Hear  the  concerts  which  happy 
spirits  perform  to  his  glory.  Hear  them,  pe- 
netrated, ravished,  charmed  v/ith  the  divine 
beauties,  crying  night  and  day,  'Holy,  holy, 
holy  is  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  the  whole  earth  is 
full  of  his  glory.  Blessing  and  glory,  wisdoni 
and  thanksgiving,  honour,  and  [)ower,  and 
might,  be  unto  our  God  for  ever  and  ever. 
Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works.  Lord 
God  Almighty;  just  and  true  are  thy  ways, 
thou  King  of  saints.  Who  shall  not  feur  thee, 
O  Lord,  and  glorify  thy  name .'"  This  Being 
so  perfect,  this  Being  so  worthily  praised,  this 
Being  so  v/orthy  of  everlasting  praise,  this  is 
he  who  will  pronounce  upon  true  glory  ;  this 
is  he  who  will  compose  the  eulogium  of  all 
who  aspire  at  it ;  this  is  he  who  will  one  da}"- 
praise  in  the  face  of  lieaven  and  earth  all  those 
who  shall  have  made  the  noble  conquests 
which  we  have  been  describing. 

Imagination  sinks  under  the  weight  of  this 
subject,  and  this  object  is  too  bright  for  eye.s 
like  ours  ;  but  the  nature  of  things  does  not 
depend  on  our  laculty  of  seeing  them.  As 
God  calls  us  to  combats  more  than  human,  so 
he  sees  fit  to  support  us  by  a  prospect  of  more 
than  human  rev/ards.  Yes.  it  is  the  Supreme 
Being,  it  is  he,  who  will  one  day  distribute 
the  praises  which  are  due  to  such  as  have 
triumphed  over  themselves.  What  a  specta- 
cle !  v/hat  a  prospect !  Yes,  Christian  cham- 
pion, after  thou  hast  resisted  flesh  and  blood, 
after  thou  hast  been  treated  as  a  fool  by  man- 
kind, after  thou  hast  run  the  race  of  triljuia- 
tion,  after  thou  hast  made  thy  life  one  perpe- 
tual martyrdom,  thou  shalt  i)e  called  forth  in 
the  presence  of  men  and  angels ;  the  Mastci- 
of  the  world  shall  separate  thee  from  the 
crowd  ;  there  he  will  address  to  thee  this  lan- 
^■uage,  'Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant;' 
'lere  ho  will  accomplish  the  promise  which 
■  le  tliis  day  makes  to  all  who  light  under  his 
.standard,  '  he  that  overcometh  shall  sit  down 
in  mv  throne.'     Ah  I  glor-,'  of  worh'.lv  heroc.?, 


454 


CHRISTIAN  HEROISM. 


[See.  i.T. 


profane  encomiums,  Aistidious  inscriptions,  i 
proud  trophies,  brilliant,  but  corruptible  dia- 
dems!  whnt  are  you  in  comparison  with  tlie 
acclamations  which  await  the  Christian  hero, 
and  the  crowns  which  God  the  rewarder  pre- 
pares for  him.'' 

And  you,  mean  and  timid  souls,  who  per- 
haps' admire  these  triumph*,  but  who  have 
not  the  ambition  to  strive  to  obtain  them  ;  you 
soft  and  indolent  spirit?,  who,  without  reluc- 
tance, give  up  all  ])retensions  to  the  immortal 
crowns  which  God  prepares  for  heroism,  pro- 
vided he  requires  no  account  of  your  indo- 
lence and  effeminacy,  and  suffers  you,  like 
brute  beasts,  to  follow  the  first  instincts  of 
yournatuic;  undeceive  yourselves.  I  said,  at 
the  beginning',  you  are  all  called  to  heroism  ; 
there  is  no  mid-way  in  religion  ;  you  must 
be  covered  with  shame  and  infamy,  along 
with  the  base  and  timid,  or  crowned  with 
glory,  in  company  witli  heroes.  The  duty  of 
an  intelligent  soul  is  to  adhere  to  truth,  ami 
to  follow  virtue  ;  we  bring  into  the  world 
\vi(h  us  obstacles  to  both  ;  our  duty  is  to  sur- 
mount them;  without  this  we  betray  our  trust ; 
we  do  not  answer  the  end  of  our  creation  ;  we 
are  guilty,  and  we  shall  be  punished  for  not 
endeavouring  to  obtain  the  great  end  for  which 
we  were  createil. 

Let  this  be  the  great  principle  of  our  divi- 
nity and  morality.  Let  us  invariably  retain 
it.  Let  us  not  lose  ourselves  in  discussions 
and  researches  into  the  origin  of  evil,  and 
into  the  permission  of  the  entrance  of  sin  into 
the  world.  Let  us  not  bury  ourselves  alive 
in  speculations  and  labyrinths ;  let  us  not 
plunge  into  abysses,  from  which  no  pains  can 
disengage  us.  Let  us  fear  an  ocean  full  of 
I'ocks,  and  let  an  idea  of  the  shipwrecks, 
which  so  many  rash  people  have  male,  stop 
VIS  on  the  shore.  Let  us  consider  these  ques- 
tions, less  with  a  view  to  discover  the  perfec- 
tions of  the  Creator,  in  the  tliick  darkness  un- 
der which  he  has  thou2;ht  proper  to  conceal 
them,  than  in  that  of  learning  the  obligations 
of  a  creature.  I  do  not  mean  to  decry  those 
great  geniuses  v>'ho  have  trr-ated  of  this  pi-o- 
found  subject.  Their  works  do  honour  to 
the  human  mind.  They  are  eternal  mo- 
numents to  the  glor)'  of  a  reason,  which 
knows  how  to  collect  its  force,  and  to  fix 
itself  on  a  single  object ;  but  it  is  always 
certain,  that  we  cannot  arrive  at  clear  truth 
on  tliis  subject,  except  by  means  of  thousands 
of  distinctions  and  abstractions,  which  most 
<Tus  cannot  make.  The  subject  is  .»o  delicate 
and  refined,  that  most  eyes  are  incapable  of 
seeing  it  and  it  is  placed  on  an  eminence  so 
steep  and  inaccessible,  that  few  geniuses  can 
attain  it. 

TiCt  IIS  religiously  abide  by  our  principle. 


The  duty  of  an  intelligent  soul  is  to  adhere  lo 
truth,  and  to  practise  virtue.  We  are  bora 
witii  a  disinclination  to  both  Our  duty  is  to 
get  rid  of  this;  and,  without  doing  so,  v.e 
neglect  the  obligrticn  of  an  intelligent  soul ; 
we  do  not  answer  the  end  for  which  we  were 
intended  ;  we  are  guilty,  and  we  shall  be  pun- 
ished for  not  having  answered  the  end  of  our 
creation. 

Let  us  consider  ourselves  as  soldiers  placeil 
round  a  besieged  city,  and  having  such  or  such 
an  enemy  to  fi^ht,  such  or  such  a  post  to  force. 
You,  you  arc  naturally  subject  to  violence 
and  anger.  It  is  sad  to  find,  in  one's  own  con- 
stitution, an  opposition  to  virtues  so  lovely  as 
those  of  submission,  charity,  sweetness,  and 
patience.  Groan  under  this  evil ;  but  do  not 
despair;  when  you  are  judged,  less  attention 
will  be  paid  to  your  natural  indisposition  to 
these  virtues,  than  to  the  efforts  which  you 
made  to  get  rid  of  it.  To  this  point  direct  all 
jour  attention,  all  your  strength,  and  all  your 
cour.ige  Say  to  yourself,  this  is  the  post 
which  my  general  intended  I  should  force ; 
this  is  the  enemy  I  am  to  fight  with.  And 
be  you  fully  convinced,  that  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal views  which  God  has  in  preserving  your 
life,  is,  that  you  should  render  yourself  mas- 
ter of  this  passion.  You,  you  are  naturally 
disposed  to  be  proud.  The  moment  you 
leave  your  mind  to  its  natural  bias,  it  turns  to 
such  objects  as  seem  the  most  fit  to  give  you 
high  ideas  of  yourself,  to  your  penetration, 
your  memory,  your  imagination,  and  even  to 
exterior  advatitages,  which  vanity  generally 
incorporates  with  the  person  who  enjovs  them. 
It  is  melancholy  to  find  within  yourself  any 
seeds  of  an  inclination,  Avhich  so  ill  agree 
with  creatures  vile  and  miserable  as  men. 
Lament  this  misfortune,  but  dt)  not  despair  ; 
to  this  side  turn  all  your  attention  and  all  your 
courage  and  strength  Say  to  yourself,  this 
is  the  po  t  which  my  i,'eneral  would  have  me 
force  ;  this  is  the  enemy  whom  he  has  appoint- 
j  eJ  me  to  oppose.  And  be  fully  convinced, 
I  that  one  of  the  principal  views  of  God  in  con- 
.  tinning  you  in  this  world  is,  that  you  may 
I  resist  this  passion,  and  make  yourself  master 
{of  it. 

Let  us  all  together,  my  brethren,  endeavour 
to  rule  our  own  spirits  Let  us  not  be  dis- 
mayed at  the  greatness  of  the  v/ork,  because 
"  -reatcr  is  he  that  is  in  us  than  he  that  is  in 
the  world.'  Grace  comes  to  tlie  aid  of  na- 
,  ture.  Prayer  acquires  strength  by  exercise. 
Tlie  passions,  after  having  been  tyrants,  be- 
come slaves  in  their  turn.  The  danger  and 
pain  of  battle-  vanish,  when  the  eye  gets  sight 
of  conquest.  How  inconceivably  beautiful  is 
victory  then?  God  grant  we  may  obtain  it. 
To  him  be  honour  and  glory  for  ever.    Amen.