SERMONS IMPORTANT SUBJECTS, BY THE REVEREND SAMUEL DAVIES, A.M., PRESIPENT OF THE COLLEGE OF NEW-JERSEY. WITH AN ESSAY ON THE LIFF AND TIMES OF THE AUTHOR, BY ALBERT BARNES. STEREOTYPE EDITION, CONTAimNG ALL THE AUTHOR's SERMONS EVER PTTBUSHBD. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. NEW YORK: ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 285 BROADWAY 1854. *\ %■> >v.\ PREFACE FIRST LONDON EDITION. It is with real pleasure I now send into the world a collection of Sermons, by that eminent and amiable man, and my most esteemed and beloved friend, the Kev. Mr. Samuel Dayies. I hope I may be the honored instrument of promoting the great interests of vital evangelical godliness, by communicating to the public a number of Discourses, which appear to me admirably calculated to increase the knowledge and power of real religion in the minds and hearts of men. Those who knew and heard Mr. Davies will need no further proof than the perusal of the discourses themselves, that they are the real productions of the author to whom they are ascribed. The sun shows himself to be the sun by the very beams with which he irradiates and enlivens mankind, and is easily distin- guished from other luminaries by his surpassing lustre. * * * * I most sincerely wish that young ministers more especially would peruse these volumes with the deepest attention and seri- ousness, and endeavor, in conjunction with earnest prayer for divine illumination and assistance, to form their discourses ac- cording to the model of our author ; which, if I mistake not, are the following excellences, most worthy of imitation : A calm and elaborate inquiry into the connection of those pas- sages of scripture which he chooses for his subjects, and a close investigation, when it appeared necessary, into the meaning of his text by researches into the original language, and fair and learned criticism ; a careful attention to the portions of sacred writ upon which he proposes to treat, so that his discourse as naturally arises from his theme as the branch grows from the root, or the stream issues from the fountain. In every page, and IV PREFACE. almost every line of Mr, Davies' sermons, his readers may dis- cover the subject he at first professed to handle; and he is ever illustrating, proving, or enforcing sonic truth or another evidently contained in it ; a reigning regard to the divine word by compar- ing and confirming scripture by scripture, by taking the sacred text in its easy and natural sense, and by apt and pertinent cita- tions of passages from holy writ, botli in the proof and amplifica- tion ; at the same time that our author by no means omits a re- gard to the dictates of natural conscience and reason, while he either makes his appeal to them, or introduces passages from Pagan antiquity on proper occasions, and to answer some valua- ble purposes ; an observance of method and order, so as to pro- ceed, like a wise builder, in laying the foundation, and regularly erecting the superstructure, and yet diversifying his method and order, by making them at some times open and express, and at other times indirect and implicit ; a free, manly diction, without anything of a nice and affected accuracy, or a loud sounding tor- rent of almost unintelligible words on the one side, or a loose negligence, or mean and low-creeping phrases, unworthy an ad- mission into the pulpit, on the other ; a rich vein of evangelical doctrine and promise, witli a large infusion at proper seasons of practical duty, or awful denunciation of the divine wratli against impenitent and incorrigible sinners ; an impartial regard to the cases of all his hearers, like a good steward distributing to all their portion of meat in due season ; animated and pathetic ap- plication, in which our author collects and concentrates what he has been proving in his discourses, and urges it with all the powers of forcible address and melting persuasion to the heart. Such appear to me to be the excellences of Mr. Davies' Ser- mons. May young ministers more particularly copy them with divine success, and be, like him, " burning and shining lights" in their several stations, till, having guided and animated their re- spective charges in the way to heaven, they and their people may at last "shine forth, like the sun, in the kingdom of their father." Such are the sincere prayers of the Editor, THOMAS GIBBONS. ffozton-Square, October 21, 1770. CONTENTS VOLUME I. LIFE AND TIMES OF THE AUTHOR, BY ALBERT BARNES. SERMON I. THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENOY OF THE CHRISTIAN RE- LIGION. Luke xvi. 27 — 31. — Then he said, I pray thee, therefore, father, that thou wouldest send him 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 said unto him, they have Moses and the prophets : let them hear them. And he said. Nay, father Abraham ; but if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent. And be said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be per- suaded though one rose from the dead, - - - 1 SERMON II. THE NATURE OF SALVATION THROUGH JESUS CHRIST EXPLAINED AND RECOMMENDED. John m. 16. — For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should nofc perish, but have everlasting life, - - - - 31 SERMON III. SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 2 Cor. v. 20. — Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, aa though God did beseech you by us : we pray you in Christ's stead, Be ye reconciled to God, - - - - 64 VI CONTENTS. SERMON IV. THE NATURE AND TNI VERS A LIT Y OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. Ephes. II. 1 and 5. — Who are dead in trespasses and sins. — Even Avhen we were dead in sins, - - - - 74 SERMON V. THE NATURE AND PROCESS OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. Ephes. II. 4, 5. — But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together in Christ, - - . 95 SERMON YI. POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS THE OBJECTS OF THE DIVINE FAVOR. Isaiah lxvi. 2. — To this man will I look; even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word, 113 SERMON VII. THE NATURE AND DANGER OF MAKING LIGHT OP CHRIST AND SAL- VATION. Matt. xii. 5. — But they made light of it, - - - 129 SERMON VIII. the compassion OF CHRIST TO WEAK BELIEVERS. Matt. xii. 20. — A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, 143 SERMON IX. THE CONNKOTION BETWEEN PRESENT HOLINESS ANT) FUTURE FELICITY. IIeb. xii. 14. — Follow Holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord, - 159 SERMON X. THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. John xvni. 87. — Pilate therefore said unto him, Art thou a king CONTENTS. Vll then? Jesus answered, Thou say est 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, - - 172 SERMON XI. THINGS UNSEEN TO BE PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 2 Cor. iv. 18. — While we 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, 199 SERMON XII. THE SAORED IMPORT OF THE CHRISTIAN NAME. Acts xi. 26. — The disciples were called Christians first at An- tioch, 212 SERMON XIII. THE DIYINE MERCY TO MOURNING PENITENTS. Jer. XXX. 18, 19, 20. — I have surely heard Ephraim bemoaning himself thus : Thou hast chastised me, and I was chastised as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke : turn thou me, and I shall be turned ; for thou art the Lord my God. Surely after that I was turned, I repented ; and after that I was instructed, I smote upon my thigh : I was ashamed, yea, even confound- ed, because I did bear the reproach of my youth. Is Ephraim my dear son? is he a pleasant child? for since I spake against him, I do earnestly remember him still : therefore my bowels are troubled for him ; I will surely have mercy upon him, saith the Lord, 227 SERMON XIV. CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 1 Pet. II. 7. — Unto you, therefore, which believe, he is pre- cious, 24-7 VIU CONTENTS. SERMON XV. THE DANGER OF LUKEWAKMNESS IN KELIGION. Rev. III. 15, 16. — I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor liot : I would thou wert cold or hot. So, then, because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth, - - - - - - - 267 SERMON XVI. the divine goveen'ment the jot of oub woeld. Psalm XGvii. 1. — The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of the isles be glad thereof, - - 282 SERMON XVII. the name of god proclaimed bt himself. Exodus xxxiii. 18, 19. — And he said, I beseech thee, show me thy glory. And he said, I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will proclaim the name of the Lord before thee, with chap, xxxiv. 6, 7. And the Lord passed by before him, and proclaimed. The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering and abun- dant in goodness and truth ; keeping mercy for thousands, for- giving iniquity, and transgression, and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty, ------ 297 SERMON XVIII. GOD IS LOVE. John iv. 8. — God is Love, 315 SERMON XIX. the general resurreotion, John v. 28, 29. — The hour is coming in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth ; they CONTENTS. IX that have done good, unto the resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil, unto tlie resurrection of damnation, 338 SERMON XX. THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. Acts xvii. 30, 31. — And the times of this ignorance God winked at ; but now commandeth all men every where to repent, be- cause he hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that Man whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead, 357 SERMON" XXL the one thing needful. Luke x. 41, 42. — And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things ; but one thing is needful ; and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her, - - 384 SERMON XXII. SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND THE CERTAIN PERDITION OP SINNERS. 1 Pet. IV. 18. — And if the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear ? - - 405 SERMON XXIIL INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 1 CoR. VII. 29, 30, 31. — But this I say, brethren, that the time is short : it remaineth that both they that have wives, be as though they had none ; and they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that buy, as though they possessed not ; and they that use this world, as not abusing it ; for the fashion of this world passeth away, 421 CONTENTS. SERMON XXIV. THE PREACHING OF CHRIST CRUCIFIED THE MEAN OF SALVATION. 1 CoR. I. 22, 23, 2-i. — For the Jews require a sign, and the Greeks seek after wisdom : but we preach Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling-block, and unto the Greeks foolishness ; but unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God, - . - 440 SERMON XXV. INGRATITUDE TO GOD A HEINOUS BUT GENERAL INIQUITY. 2 Chron. XXXII. 25. — But Hezekiah rendered not again, according to the benefit done unto him, 465 SERMON XXVI. THE SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST, AND THFIR CONSEQUENT JOYS AND BLESSINGS. IsAiAH Liii. 10, 11. — When thou shalt make his soul an ofiering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied, - 478 INTRODUCTORY ESSAY LIFE AND TIMES OF THE AUTHOR. ALBERT BARNES. President Dayies' Sermons, in the editions which liave been heretofore published in this country, have been preceded by the following discourses : (1.) A sermon entitled "The disinterested and devoted Christian, preached at Nassau Hall, Princeton, May 28, 1761 ; occasioned by the death of the Rev. Samuel . Davies, A.M., late President of the College of New Jersey, by Samuel Finley, D.D., President of the said college," on Rom. xiv. 7, 8. (2.) A brief "Appendix" annexed to the above sermon, contain- ing some of the leading facts in the Hfe of President Davies. (3.) Two sermons entitled, " Divine Conduct Vindicated," preached at Haberdashers' Hall, London, March 29, 1761, on the decease of President Davies, by Thomas Gibbons, D.D. (4.) An essay on the character of President Davies, by Rev. David Bostwick, M. A., of New York. In issuing a new edition of these sermons from the press, it has been thought best to omit these discourses ; to arrange the facts in regard to the life of President Davies which they furnish ; to add such other facts as could be obtained from other sources, and to suggest some considerations which might illustrate the nature of the ministry which is demanded in the present age. Much of the matter found in the discourses prefixed to the former editions has little relevancy to the questions which are asked XU LIFE AND TIMES respecting President Davies, and would be of little use to those who might desire to avail themselves of the aid which may be derived from the study of his writings, in qualifying themselves for the work of the ministry. In preparing this Introductory Essay, I have been materially aided by the " Notes " on the life of President Davies in the Ap- pendix to the Baccalaureate Discourses of the Rev. Dr. Green, delivered in Nassau Hall, and also by several interesting commu- nications addressed to me by the Eev. William Hill, D.D., of "Winchester, Virginia. In the communications which Dr. Hill had the kindness to make for this Introductory Essay — to whom I desire in this manner to make most grateful acknowl- edgments— he has presented views of the state of religion in Virginia before the time of Mr. Davies' settlement, and of the effects of his labors, of great interest. No man living has had bet- ter opportunities of being familiar with the character and effect of Mr. Davies' labors ; and I am thankful that I am permitted to be the instrument in this manner of preserving so many valuable reminiscences of his life. The communications of Dr. Hill are preserved mainly in his own language. The Reverend Samuel Davies was born on the third day of November, A.D. 1724, in the county of Newcastle, then in the province of Pennsylvania, but now in the state of Delaware. He is supposed to have been of Welsh descent, both by his father's and mother's side. His father was a farmer, avIio lived with great plainness and simplicity, and who supported the character of an honest and pious man.* He died, says Dr. Hill, when Samuel was young. His mother survived him but a short time. She was a woman of eminent piety, and of very superior natural powers of mind ; and the distinguished piety and usefulness of her son, is one among the many instances which have occurred where the prayers and example of a pious mother have been sig- nally blessed. He was an only son. By maternal feelings and vows he liad been devoted to God ; and the name Samuel was given to him by his mother, as an expression of the same feelings which had " " He was a man of small property, of intellectual endowments rather below than above the common level, of unpolished manners, but of a blame- less life."— Da. Gbeew. OF THE AUTHOR. XJll led to the bestowment of the name on the distinguished prophet. 1 Sam. i. 11. He remained with his parents until he was about ten years of age, and Avas taught by his mother, there beitig no school in the vicinity. His progress in these early years is spoken of as such as to attract attention, and as indicating uncommon prom- ise. During this period of his life, it is not known that he had any impressions of special seriousness. He is described as a boy of uncommon sprightliness ; as demeaning himself with propri- ety, and as making rapid progress in his studies. At about ten years of age, he was sent to an English school at some distance from his father's, where he continued two years, and made great progress in learning. Away from his father's home, however, and lacking the counsel and example of his pious parents, his mind became more careless on the subject of religion. Yet he was then in the habit of secret prayer, particu- larly in the evening. The reason why he did this, as he stated in his diary, was that " he feared lest he should perhaps die be- fore morning." It is remarkable, also, in his prayers at that time, that " he was more ardent in his supplications for being in- troduced into the gospel ministry, than for any other thing." The first twelve years of his life, however, he afterwards re- garded as having been wasted in the most entire negligence of God and religion. At about this period of his life, it is probable, he was brought to see his need of a Savior, and to devote him- self to the service of that God to wliom he had been consecrated by the vows and prayers of his mother. Of the exercises of his mind at that time, little is now known. The influence of his moth- er's example and prayers, and of the fact that he had been early devoted by her to God, is known to have produced a deep impression on his own mind. In a letter addressed by him many years after to a friend in London, he says, " That he was blessed with a mother whom he might account, without filial vanity or partiahty, one of the most eminent saints he ever knew upon •earth. And here," says he, ""I cannot but mention to my friend an anecdote known but to few, that is, that I am a son of prayer, like my namesake Samuel, the prophet ; and my mother called me Samuel because, she said, ' I have asked him of the Lord.' This early dedication to God has always been a strong induce- ment to me to devote myself to him as a personal act ; and the XIV LIFE AND TIMES most important blessings of my life I have looked upon as im- mediate answers to the prayers of a pious mother." AYhat was the immediate means by which his mind was" awakened and which led to his conversion, and what were the mental exercises through which he then passed, are now un- knoAvn. No record that I have been able to find, has furnished any light on a question of so much interest. Dr. Green remarks of him that " he was so deeply impressed with a rational sense of his danger as to make him habitually uneasy and restless, till he obtained satisfactory evidence of his interest in the forgiving love of God. Yet he was afterwards exercised with perplexing doubts for a long season ; but at length, after years of impartial, repeated self-examination, he attained to a settled confidence in redeeming grace, which he retained to the end of life." At what time he connected himself with the church is now unknown. It is supposed to have been when he was about fifteen years of age. His conversion was soon succeeded by a purpose to devote him- self to the service of God in the ministry. He was favored with a liberal education at a Collegiate In- stitution, but his preparation for the ministry was made in a more private manner. A considerable part of his classical and theological education was acquired under the care of Kev. Samuel Blair, at Fog^s Manor^ in Chester county, Pennsylvania. Mr. Blair was an eminent preacher as well as scholar, and several distinguished men in the Church, besides President Davies, re- ceived their education under his instruction. His academy was designed mainly to train young men for the ministry, and the course of instruction embraced both the classical and theological departments. Mr. Davies was then probably somewhat less than fifteen years of age. It is supposed that his poverty prevented his remaining there for a longer period. It is an interesting fact that while there, he was supported, in part, as will be mentioned in another place, by funds contributed by the very people of Vir- ginia, among whom he was afterwards settled, but to whom he was at that time wholly unknown. Dr. Finley remarks of him, '' His love to God, and tender concern for perishing sinners, excit- ed liis eager desire of being in a situation to serve mankind to the best advantage. AYith this view he engaged in the pursuit of learning, in Avhich, amidst many obvious inconveniences^ he OF THE AUTHOR. XV made surprising progress, and, sooner than could have been ex- pected, was found completely qualified for the ministerial office. He passed the usual previous trials with uncommon approbation ; having exceeded the raised expectations of his most intiniate friends and admirers." lie was licensed to preach by the Pres- bytery of New Castle. His views and feelings, when he was li- censed to preach the gospel, may be learned from a fact stated by Dr. Gibbons: " When he was about entering the ministry," says he, " or had not long entered upon it, if I remember right, he was judged to be in a deep and irrecoverable consumption. Finding himself upon the borders of the grave, and without any hopes of recovery, he determined to spend the little remains of an almost exhausted life, as he apprehended it, in endeavoring to advance his Master's glory in the good of souls. Accordingly he removed from the place where he was, to another about an hundred miles distant that was then in want of a minister. Here he labored in season and out of season ; and, as he told me, preached in the day, and had his hectic fever by night, and to such a degree as to be sometimes delirious, and to stand in need of persons to sit up with him." I will here insert an account of the early labors of Mr. Davies in the words of Dr. Hill : ^'' From the commencement of Mr. Davies' labors^ after Ms licen- stcre^ to his settlement in Virginia., from 1745 to 1748. " Mr. Davies was licensed to preach the gospel in 1745, when he was just twenty-one years of age. From the intense applica- tion he paid to his studies, his constitution, naturally vigorous, became much impaired, so that when he was licensed, he thought himself and was thought by others, to be laboring under a pul- monary affection which would, in all likelihood, cut short his days. After licensure, Mr. Davies visited many vacancies, some in Pennsylvania, some in Jersey, but chiefly in Maryland. These ministerial visits took place just before and after his first visit to Virginia. The account he gives of them is this. (See Mr. Davies' letter to Bellamy, 1751.) ' In Maryland also, there has been a considerable revival, or shall I not rather call it a first plantation of religion in Baltimore County., where, I am informed, Mr. Whittlesey is likely to settle. In Kent County and Queen Anne's, a number of careless sinners XVI LIFE AND TIMES have been awakeDed and hopefully brought to Christ. The work was begun and chiefly carried on by the instrumentahty of that favored man, Mr. Robinson, whose success, whenever I re- flect upon it, astonishes me. Oh ! he did much in a little time ; and who would not choose such an expeditious pilgrimage through this world ? There is in these places a considerable con- gregation, and they have made repeated essays to obtain a settled minister. There Avas a great stir about religion in Buckingham, a place on the sea shore, about four years ago, (i. e. in the year 1747, the time Mr. D. visited them,) which has since spread and issued in a hopeful conversion in many instances. They want a minister. — But the most glorious displays of divine grace in Ma- ryland have been in and about Somerset County. It began, I think, in 1745, by the ministry of Mr. Robinson, and was afterwards carried on by several ministers that preached transiently there. I was there about two months, [i. e. in 1746 or 1747,] when the work was at its height, and I never saw such a deep and spread- ing concern : the assemblies were numerous, though in the ex- tremity of a cold winter, and unwearied in attending the word preached ; — and frequently there were very few among them that did not give some plain indications of distress or joy. Oh ! these were the happiest days that ever my eyes saw.' Again, says he, * after I returned from Virginia, [i. e. in 1747,] I spent near a year under melancholy and consumptive languishnient, expecting death. In the spring, 1748, I began slowly to recover, though I then looked upon it only as an intermission of a disorder that would finally prove mortal. But upon the arrival of a messenger from Hanover, I put my life in my hand, and determined to ac- cept their call, hoping I might live to prepare the way for some more useful successor, and willing to expire under the fatigues of duty, rather than involuntary negligence.' " Thus was Mr. Davies employed, notwithstanding the very del- icate and precarious state of his health, from the latter end of the year 1745, when he was licensed, till the spring of 1748, when he located himself permanently in Virginia. He was invited to set- tle in several other places, wliich offered advantages far superior to the one he selected, on many accounts. Hear him tell his own story to the Bishop of London upon this subject. ' And I sol- emnly assure your Lordship that it was not the secret thirst of OF THE AUTHOR. XVU filthy lucre, nor the prospect of any other personal advantage that induced me to settle here in Virginia. For, sundry congregations in Pennsylvania, my native counti-y, and in other northern colo- nies, most earnestly importuned me to settle among them; where I should have had at least an equal temporal maintenance, in- comparably more ease, leisure and peace, and the happiness of the frequent society of my Brethren ; and where I should never have made a great noise or bustle in the world, but concealed myself in the crowd of my superior brethren, and spent my life in some httle service for God and his church, in some peaceful corner, which would have been most becoming so insignificant a creature, and more agreeable to my recluse natural temper. But all these strong inducements were over-weighed by a sense of the more urgent necessity of the Dissenters here ; as they lay two or three hundred miles distant from the nearest ministers of their own denomination, and labored under peculiar embarrassments for the want of a settled minister.' " At this stage of the notices of the hfe of Mr. Davies, Avhen he was about to be settled in Virginia where he exerted so hnport- ant an influence in the cause of religion, it may be interesting to present a statement of the condition of this colony before he be- gan his labors there. It will be given in the words of Dr. Hill : '■'■A hasty sketch of the state of religion in Virginia shortly/ de- fore and at the time of Mr. Samuel Dames* settling in that state. " At the time of the death of the Eev. Francis Makemie, which took place in Accomack county, in the year 1708, there were two organized churches in that county, which he had lately collected as Christain societies. One was on a small creek about five miles from Drummondton, the present seat of government for the county, where Mr. Makemie resided upon a valuable estate which he there owned, and where he had a small meeting-house built and licensed as a place of preaching according to the provi- sions of the Act of Toleration. The other congregation was on and near the mouth of the river Tocomoke, which here consti- tutes in part the dividing line between Virginia and Maryland. Here also Mr. Makemie owned a large tract of land, extending on both sides of the river, and a large dwelling house, which was now vacant, and which he also got licensed as a place of preaching. XVlll LIFE AND TIMES '*The members coDipo^ing this congregation Avere scattered on both sides of this river. TJie house first licensed, was on the Virginia side. But a little before his death, by his exertions, a new house of worship was built upon his land, on the Maryland side, at a place now called Eehoboth, wliich has continued as a place of worship ever since. " Among other reasons which led to this cliange of location in their place of worship, no doubt, was a design of getting beyond the reach of Episcopal persecution Avhich universally prevailed in Virginia, and the security of religious freedom which, by charter, was guaranteed to all sects in Marjiand. '^ There was, at the same time, a small Presbyterian congrega- tion on the Elizabeth River, near where Norfolk now stands, over which the Rev. Mr. Mackey, from Ireland, presided as their minister. But soon after Makemie's death, he was forced to fly from intolerant persecution, and we hear no more of him or his congregation afterwards. "After the two small congregations of Accomack lost the la- bors and protection of Makemie, they were soon extinguished, and were no more heard of. When, therefore, Mr. Davies arriv- ed in Virginia, 1748, just forty years after, there was not a sin- gle organized Presbyterian church anywhere to be found in the old settled parts of Virginia. " About the year 1730, a large number of Scotch-Irish emigrants from Ireland came over into America. This current of immigra- tion became stronger and stronger for many years, and formed a frontier settlement in Penns3'lvania, Virginia, North and South Carolina. All these had received a Presbyterian education in Ireland. " These Presbyterian Irish settlers formed a barrier settlement between the older settlers from England and the Indians of the west. " The intolerant Episcopalians of Virginia were willing for a while to admit these settlements for their own security from In- dian excursions among them, and leave them unmolested in their Presbyterian modes and predilections. Among these western settlements, Presbyterian congregations were formed as early, and in some instances prior to the church which Davies organized in Hanover. A few of these Scotch and Irish settlements were OF THE AUTHOR. XIX supplied Avith ministers from tlio ' old side ' synod of Philadelphia and tlieir presbytery of Donegal. Congregations were formed in Augusta west of the mountains, and two me'.nbers of the Done- gal presbytery were settled there soon after the great schism of 1741, and another congregation was organized east of the Blue ridge, near Kockfish Gap, and another memberT)f Donegal Pres- bytery located there, before or about the time Mr. Davies settled in Hanover. Incipient steps were taken also to form congrega- tions in Frederick county, and a few other places, about the same time, by the ' new light' synod of New York. "There was very little intercourse between these western Scotch-Irish and the lower counties of Virginia when Mr. Da- vies first came to that colony; — their interests, localities, and social intercourse were entirely of a different character. But there was one exception to the last general remark. As the old settlements soutb of James river did not extend further west of Richmond than about 60 or 70 miles, a portion of those foreign emigrants crossed the mountains at Rockfish Gap, and formed a compact settlement there ; Avhile others of them went further south, crossed James river, and formed settlements in what are now called Charlotte and Prince Edward counties. It w^as to visit these settlements, that the Rev. William Robinson was sent out in the year 1743, by the ' new light ' Presbytery of New Brunswick. He preached to the settlements in Frederick, crossed over at Rockfish Gap, and preached to the settlements in Char- lotte and Prince Edward counties. From these settlements Mr. Robinson continued his journey south into the western and Irish settlements in North Carolina, and was there overtaken by the commissioners which had been despatched from Hanover to in- duce him to pay them a visit on his return. This he promised to do, and authorized them to have an appointment made for him on a given Sabbath some weeks afterwards. " On the Saturday before the Sabbath which Mr. Robinson had appointed to preach in Hanover, he had to ride late at night to reach a tavern, within about 8 or 10 miles of the place. The tavern-keeper was a shrewd, boisterous, profane man ; and when uttering some horrid oaths, Mr. Robinson ventured to reprove him for his profanity ; and although it was done in a mild way, the innkeeper gave him a sarcastic look, and said. ' Pray, sir, XX. LIFE AND TIMES who are you, to take such authority upon yourselt'1' 'I am a minister of the gospel,' says Mr. Robinson. 'Then you belie your looks very much,' was the reply. It is said that Mr. Rob- inson had had the small pox very severely, which had given him a very rough visage, and had deprived hhn of the sight of one of his eyes. -It w*as with reference to his forbidding appear- ance that the innkeeper seemed to question his ministerial char- acter. ' But,' says Mr. Robinson, ' if you wish certainly to know whether I am a minister or not, if you will accompany me to such a place, you may be convinced by hearing me preach.' ' I will,' says the inkeeper, ' if you will preach from a text which I shall give you.' ' Let me hear it,' says Mr. Robinson, ' and if there is nothing unsuitable in it, I will.' The waggish tavern-keeper, with the wish of turning him into ridicule, as- signed him the text, Psalm cxxxix. 14. ' For I am fearfully and wonderfully made.' Mr. Robinson promised, if he Avould ac- company him, he would preach, among his first sermons, one from that text. He did so, it is said ; and before the sermon ended, this wicked man was made to see that he Avas the mon- ster, and that he was indeed fearfully and wonderfully made him- self; and it is said that he became a very pious and useful mem- ber of the church. It is thought that President Davies has a ref- erence to his case, among others, in his letter to the Bishop of London, when he says, ' I have been the joyful witness of the happy effects of those four sermons upon sundry thoughtless im- penitents and sundry abandoned profligates^ who have ever since given good evidence of a thorough conversion from sin unto holi- ness.' " Seldom did the preaching of the gospel produce such imme- diate and happy effects as the four sermons which he was allow- ed to preach at Morris' Reading House. Let this scene be de- scribed by one who was competent to do justice to it. ' On the sixth of July, Mr. Robinson preached his first sermon, and con- tinued with us preaching four days successively. The congrega- tion was large the first day, and vastly increased the three fol- lowing. It is hard for the liveliest imagination to form an idea of the condition of the assembly on those glorious days of the Son of Man. Such of us as had been hungering for the word be- fore, were lost in an agreeable surprise and astonishment, and OF THE AUTHOR. XXI some could not refrain from publicly declaring their transports. We were overwhelmed with the thoughts of the unexpected goodness of God in allowing us to hear the gospel preached as we never had before, and in a manner which far surpassed our hopes. Many that came through curiosity were pricked to the heart, and but few in the numerous assemblies on these four days appeared unaffected. They returned alarmed with apprehen- sions of their dangerous condition, convinced of their former en- tire ignorance of religion, and anxiously inquiring what they should do to be saved. And there is reason to believe, there was as much good done by these four sermons, as by all the sermons preached in these parts since or before.' Supplies were regularly sent to them until Mr Davies visited them, four years afterwards. It can readily be seen that Mr. Robinson visited them under very favorable circumstances. They had the advantage of giving timely notice of his coming ; — they had never heard preaching that was worth the name before ; — their minds had for some time been deeply impressed with the necessity and importance of religion ; — it was not a mere transient visit, but a protracted meeting of four days and nights' continuance, without intermis- sion ; — and it is probable there were few ministers who knew how to handle the word of God more dexterously, and to give to each one his portion in due season. There were daily additions to this little flock of hopeful converts. So mightily grew the word of God and prevailed among them. " We have no right to inquire now what might have been the consequences if Mr. Robinson had been permitted to have pro- longed his visit, and extended his labors through the regions round about, which were so white and ripe for the harvest. But he had to make a precipitate retreat, and commence his flight from the sheriffs, who were ordered out for his apprehension, by persecuting Episcopalians. "As Mr. Robinson had to leave them so hastily and unexpect- edly, his many warm friends had no opportunity to contribute anything as a compensation, or even to defray his expenses. A collection was raised the next day, and sent by some trusty friends to overtake him, and put it in his possession. They did overtake him, but he peremptorily refused to receive a penny of it ; saying, he knew what his enemies would say if he should re- XXll LIFE AND TIME3 ceive any part of it, and he was determined he would give them no occasion to speak evil of either himself or his master's cause, Avhich he advocated. He at last said, there was one condition upon which he would receive the money. He knew a very pious and promising young man, who was in very indigent circum- stances, and had been for some years prosecuting his studies for the ministry ; he would with their leave expend it upon him, with the promise that if he should enter the ministry, he should come and preach to them. To this they consented. Samuel Davies, then studying under the care of the Kev. Samuel Blair, at Fogg's Manor, Pennsylvania, was this youth ; and by his com- ing and laboring among thein, tlie pledge was redeemed. " The Episcopal Church of England had been established by law in Virginia, from its first settlement; — the ministers, gener- ally speaking, were men sent from Great Britain to seek their fortunes, or to recover broken ones in America. Although nom- inally belonging to the see of the Bishop of London, yet, in fact, they were subject to no supervision, amenable for misconduct to no human authority ; and it is not wonderful that the most of them were addicted to horse-racing, cock-figliting, card-playing, and drinking, and, in fact, were the mere parasites of the rich and the great. This being generally their character, with here and there rare exceptions, religion was and had long been at a very low ebb. The common people had lost all confidence in their clerg}^, and were generally ready to hear any pious minister gladly, and would have easily been led off to another church, had they not been restrained by high-handed civil authority. There perhaps could no other people be found where the great mass of the community were more open to conviction and accessible by the gospel, whenever and wherever it was faithfully preached. Thus impressible did Mr. Davies find Virginia when he settled in Hanover. He was the solitary Presbyterian minister of the " new light " order then settled in the colony. The three ''old side" ministers who were settled, one in Albemarle, and two in Augusta, were mere drones, and did the cause more injury than benefit, two of whom fell under the heavy censures of the church before their death." OF THE AUTHOR. XXlll " The labors Mr. Davies had to undergo, and the dijfficulties and opposition with which he had to contend, whe?i he first under- took his charge in Virginia. "It should be recollected that when Mr. Davies first settled in Virginia, there was not another minister in the same ecclesiasti- cal connection with himself in the whole bounds of Virginia, or within less than between two and three hundred miles of him. "It is true there were three other Presbyterian ministers who settled in the colouy about the same time, and some one or more of them might have preceded him. These were the Rev. Samuel Black, in Albemarle county, near Rock-fish Gap, of the Blue Ridge ; the Rev. John Craig, and Alexander Miller, in what was then Augusta county, in the Valley of Virginia, west of the Blue Ridge. But these w^ere old side Presbyterians, and belonged to the old side Presbytery of Donegal and the Synod of Philadelphia, and were so far from rendering him any assistance, that they were among his inveterate enemies and bitterest revilers, as au- thentic records and testimony of another character can abun- dantly establish if necessary. There is no better way of making known the task he had undertaken, and the labor he actually did undergo, than to take it from Mr. Davies' own pen, in his let- ter addressed to the Bishop of London, dated May 21st, 1752, which was four years after his settlement in Virginia. " ' The frontier counties of this colony,' he says, ' about one hundred miles west and south-west from Hanover, have been lately settled by people that chiefly came from Ireland originally, but immediately from the northern colonies, who were educated Presbyterians, and had been, during their residence there, under the care of ministers belonging to the Synod of N'ew York, of which I am a member. Their settling in Virginia has been many ways beneficial to it, which I am sure, however, most of them would not have done, had they expected any restraints on the inoffensive exercise of their religion, according to their con- sciences. After their removal, they continued to petition the Sy- nod of New York, and particularly the Presbytery of New Castle, which w^as nearest to them, for ministers to be sent to them. But as the ministers of the said Synod and of the country w^ere few, and vastly disproportioned to the many congregations under their care, they could not provide these vacancies with settled pastors. XXIV LIFE AND TIMES And what could Ihey do in this case ? The only expedient in their poAver was to appoint some of their members to travel alternate- ly into these destitute congregations, and officiate among them as long as would comport with their circumstances.' ' The same method was taken, and for the same reason, to supply the dissenters in and about Hanover, before my settlement among them, and this raised the clamor still higher. " ' There are now in the frontier counties at least five congre- gations of Presbyterians, who, though they have long used the most vigorous endeavors to obtain settled ministers among them, have not succeeded yet, by reason of the scarcity of ministers, and the number of vacancies in other parts, particularly in Penn- sylvania and the Jerseys ; and we have no way to answer their importunate petitions, but by sending a minister now and then to them to officiate transiently among them. And as the people under my charge are so numerous, and so dispersed, that I can- not allow them at each meetmg-house such a share of my minis- trations as is correspondent to their necessity, the said Synod has twice or thrice in the space of three years, sent a minister to assist me for a few Sabbaths. These are^the only itinerations that we have been charged with, in this colony ; and whether we should not rather run the risk of this causeless charge, than suffer these vacancies, who eagerly look to us for the bread of life, to perish through a famine of the w^ord of the Lord, who can enter- tain a doubt? " ' But as I am particularly accused of intrusive schismatical itinerations, I am more particularly concerned to vindicate my- self. It will be necessary therefore to inform 3^our lordship, [ad- dressed to the Bishop of London,] of the circumstances of the dis- senters in and about Hanover, who are under my ministerial care. " The dissenters here and hereabout are only sufficiently nu- merous to form two distinct organized congregations, or particu- lar churches ; and did they live contiguous, two meeting-houses would be sufficient for them, and neither they nor myself would desire more. But they are so dispersed, that they cannot con- vene for public worship, unless they have a considerable number of places licensed ; — and yet they are so few, that they cannot form a particular organized church at each place. There are meeting-houses licensed in five diffei-ent counties in this part of OV THE ALTHOK. XXV the stiUe, but tiio extremes of my cliurge lie 80 or 90 miles apart; and the dis.seiiters under my care are scattered through six or seven difl'erent counties. The greatest number of them, I suppose about 100 families at least, is in Hanover, where there are three meeting-houses licensed. About 20 or 30 families are in Henrico ; about 10 or 12 in Caroline ; about 15 or 20 in Gooch- land ; and about the same number in Louisa ; in each of the four last-mentioned counties there is at this time but one meeting- liouse licensed. Besides these, there are about 15 or 20 tamilies in Cumberland county, [between 80 or 90 miles from Mr. Davies residence in Hanover,] where there is no place of worship licensed for our use, and about the same number in and about New Kent, where a license was granted by the court of that county, but afterwards recalled by the General Court. [The doctrine ad- vanced by the General Court was, that the act of toleration, if it extended at all to the colonies, did not admit of licensing any place of worsliip for a dissenting minister, except one in the county where he resided, and where the dissenting member regularly and uniformly attended. This was done to prevent itinerant preachers^ as they were called, from going from county to county, and making proselytes from the established church of England.] " ' The counties,' says Mr. Davies in continuance, ' are large, generally 40 or 50 miles in length, and about 20 or 30 in breadth ; so that, though members may live in one county, it would be impossible for them all to convene at one place, and much more 80 when they are dispersed through so many counties. Though there are now seven places of worship licensed, yet the nearest to each other are 12 or 15 miles apart ; and many have to travel from 10, 15, or 20 miles to the nearest, and from 40 to 60 miles to the other places licensed ; nay, some of them have from 30 to 40 miles to the nearest place of worship. And such is the scarc- ity of ministers in the Synod of New York, and so great the num- ber of congregations under their care, that though a part of my congregation with my hearty concurrence, used repeated endeav- ors to obtain another minister to relieve me of a charge of them, they have not been able to succeed as yet. So that all the dis- senters here depend entirely upon me to officiate among them, as there is no other minister of their own denomination within XXVI LIFE AND TIMES 200 miles or more, except wliere one of my brethren from tLe nortli is appointed to pay them a transient visit for two or three Sabbaths once in a, year or two ; and as was observed, they can- not attend on my ministry at more than one or tAvo places, on account of the distance, nor constitute a complete particular church at each place of meeting on account of the smallness of their numbers,' '' These extracts from Mr. Davies' letter to the Bishop of Lon- don, may give us a glance of the Avork he had to perform, and of the opposition against which he had to contend. It was his practice to preach more frequently at one of the meeting-houses in Hanover than at any of the rest of the places. This meeting- house Avas built near Mr. Morris's reading-house, AA^here Presby- terianism originated, and AA'here they Avere much more numerous than anyAvhere else, and near to AA-hich Mr. Davies had fixed his residence Avith his family. But it Avas his regular custom to preach one Sabbath at least in three or four months, at each of the other jjlaces licensed ; for as yet he did not venture to preach in any other place that Avas not licensed by laAv. Beside preach- ing on the Sabbath, he ventured to preach frequently at his dif- ferent chapels of ease, on Aveak days, Avhich proved highly bene- ficial, though it Avas the ground of heavy charges and strenuous opposition from Episcopal clergymen. The reason for Avhich Avas, that many Episcopalians, Avho dare not absent themselves from their own parish church to hear Mr. Davies on the Sabbath, felt no scruple to hear him on a week day — some out of curios- ity to hear a man Avhose fame was noAV much noised abroad through the country, and many Avere desirous of hearing him from a much better motive, it is believed. But it is generally be- licA'ed that more persons Avere brought under serious impressions by his week day sermons than those of the Sabbath ; and it Avas chiefly by these meetings that so many were induced to forsake the Avorship of the established church, which they had found to be 80 unprofitable in times past, and resort to ordinances Avhich they found more beneficial ; and thus they not only became true Christians, but rapidly increased the number of Presbyterians. This excited the ire, and quickened the opposition of theEpisco- l)alians. " While Mr. Davies Avas thus left to labor without any co-ope- OF THE AUTHOll. XXVll ration from his brethren, except on occasional visits sent by tlie Synod of ITew York to aid him two or three Sabbaths, Avith sucli intervals as made them few and far between, he was continually extending his labors, and occupying new territory. "The more he became known, the greater was the crowd that followed after him ; until the pressing invitations which he re- ceived from various quarters, became almost overwhelming to his sensitive mind. "When he first came to Virginia, a youthful stranger, the clergy of the establishment affected to treat him with sovereign contempt ; several scurrilous lampoons were written against him, and the sarcastic songs which were put into the mouths of drunk- ards to turn him into ridicule, are remembered by some old people to the present day. It was soon seen that such light weapons as these rather brought him into notice than did him any injury. " He was now frequently called before the General Court, and the Governor and Council, who seriously threatened to recall the licenses which he had heretofore obtained, and to deny him any of the privileges secured to dissenters by the act of toleration ; and not only threatened to banish him the colony, but did actu- ally cause some that were sent to his aid, to depart from the ter- ritory. " He had made himself so great a master of the laws of Eng- land, and of his civil and religious rights and privileges, that he was never in the least daunted in answering all their indictments, nor in facing their most able councillors. He always chose to plead his own cause, and acquitted himself in such a manner as made him many friends and admirers, and even his enemies to say, ' WTiat a lawyer was spoiled when Davies took the pulpit P " The home of Mr. Davies was about twelve miles from Rich- mond ; but his occasional labors, as is seen by the above account, were extended through a considerable part of the colony ; and he acquired, probably, a greater influence than any other preacher in Virginia ever possessed. The limits of the Presbytery of Han- over originally comprehended the whole of Virginia, and a con- siderable part, if not the whole of North Carolina. Through this extensive region there were scattered numerous settlements of Protestants. Of this whole interest which ' dissented ' from XXVIU LIFE AND TIMES the tlieii established church of Virginia, Mr. Davies was the ani- mating soul. His popularity in Virginia was almost unbounded ; so that he was invited and urged to preach in every part of the colony. The Presbytery to which he belonged, willing to gratify the people as far as in their power, directed him to supply vacan- cies, with a frequency which came at last to be offensive to the people of his own immediate charge. They warmly remonstrat- ed to the Presbytery against being deprived so much of their pas- tor's time and labors. To Mr. Davies, however, no blame was attached by either party. He appeared willing to spend and be spent in any service to whicli duty called him. "The church in which he preached in Hanover, and which was erected for him in 1757, is still standing. It is about ten miles from the city of Richmond, and is a remarkably plain build- ing, of wood, without a steeple, and capable of accommodating about five hundred persons. In pleasant weather, the number of persons who came to hear him was so great, that the church would not contain them, and worship was held in a neighboring grove." It was during Mr. Davies' residence in Virginia, that, in com- pany with the Rev. Gilbert Tennant, he was sent to London to solicit donations for the college of New Jersey. Of this visit. Dr. Hill has furnished the following account. "Mr. Davies' popularity as an eloquent pulpit orator — his able defences before the Governor and General court of Virginia, — his military sermons, and his patriotic addresses upon different im- portant occasions, together with his very able correspondence with the Bishop of London, and other distinguished men in Eng- land, had raised his reputation to such a height, that in the year 1753, when the ' new side ' Synod, of New York, were looking out for a companion and coadjutor to the Rev. Gilbert Tennant, to send to Great Britain, they could find no one in all their num- ber who was thought to possess qualifications for that undertak- ing to compare with those possessed by Mr. Davies, who was then but a mere youth, still under thirty years of age. " Mr. Davies' modesty induced him strongly to remonstrate against devolving such a trust upon him; — and his people felt Btill stronger objections to this appointment. They knew how OF THE AUTHOR. XXIX important his services were at that critical period in theii- nffjiirs, and that no one else could supply his place with equal ii>]van- tage. Besides this, they had another objection. They knew his excellencies better than any other people, for he came to them when a youth, and it was among them that his powers had ripened ; and they were afraid if he became extensively known, he would be sought after by other places, which could afford him a much easier and more comfortable settlement than they could, and that they would thereby endanger the loss of him altogether. " Subsequent events, which soon after followed, showed how well-founded their fears and appreliensions were. Although the Synod took care to have Mr. Davies' people supplied during the year of his absence, yet no one could, in their estimation, render services equivalent to his. It is generally thought that the pro- gress of Presbyterianism was seriously affected by Mr. Davies' absence from Virginia, and that its prospects were hardly ever as promising afterwards as before. '' What was the precise amount of funds raised by this em- bassy to Great Britain; the mode of their operations; whether they went together, or separated, and took different routes, is not known. They visited England, Scotland, and Ireland ; and there is no doubt they raised a considerable amount, and enlisted many friends and patrons for Princeton Seminary — as that institution rose rapidly into notice and usefulness from that time. When Mr. Davies was in London, his fame had preceded him, so that his preaching was much resorted to by dissenters and others ; and an occurrence is said to have taken place wliich was much spoken of among his friends, and with some little exultation, after his return. " The circumstance alluded to is this — that his fame as a pul- pit orator was so great in London, that some noblemen who had heard him, mentioned in the presence of King George II., that there was a very distinguished dissenting preacher in London from the colony of Virginia, who was attracting great notice, and drawing after him very crowded audiences; upon which the King expressed a strong desire to liear him, and his chaplain in- vited him to preach in his chapel. Mr. Davies is said to have complied, and preached before a splendid audience, composed of XXX LIFE AND TIMES the royal faiiiil}', and many of tlie nobility of the realm. It is further said, that ^vhile Mr. D. was preaching, the King was seen speaking at diiferent times to those around him, who were seen also to smile. Mr. Davies observed it, and was shocked at Avhat he thought was irreverence in the house of God, that was iTtterly inexcusable in one whose example might have such in- fluence. After pausing and looking sternly in that direction sev- eral times, the preacher proceeded in his discourse, when the same offensive behavior was still observed. The American dissenter is said then to have exclaimed, ' When the lion roars, the beasts of the forest all tremNe; and when King Jesus speaks, the princes of the earth should Tccep silence.'' The King is said to have given a significant, but courteous bow to the preacher, and sat very composedly and reverently during the rest of the ser- vice. If this be a correct statement of the fact that took place, it speaks louder than anything that has yet been said in praise of Mr. Davies' promptness, intrepidity, and solemn self-possesssion while engaged in delivering God's messages to his perishing fel- low-men, Whatever authority Mr. Davies' friends had for nar- rating this story is not now known, but it was universally be- lieved among them to have occurred. " The explanation given of this strange affair is this. The King is said to have been so enraptured with Mr. Davies' solemn and impressive manner and eloquence, that he was constrained repeatedly to express his astonishment and applause to those around him, and felt anything else but irreverence upon the oc- casion. He was so delighted with him, that he sent him an in- vitation to call upon him at a given time, which interview un- questionably did take place, and was repeated more than once, after which, and the explanations which were given, Mr. Davies was delighted with his Majesty, and not only received a hand- some donation from him for the college whose cause he was ad- vocating, but was led to form a most exalted opinion of George II. ever afterwards, as may be learned from a funeral sermon he preached upon his death and character." The following account by Dr. Hill, will furnish an interesting and useful account of " the style and manner of Mr. Davies OF THE AUTHOR. XXXI f)reac'hing^ the effects 'produced ; and the influence which he ac- quired. " Mr Davies possessed naturally every qualification, both of body and mind, to make him an accomplished orator, and fit him for the pulpit. His frame was tall, well-proportioned, erect, and comely ; — his port and carriage were easy, graceful, manly, and dignified ; — his voice clear, loud distinct, melodious, and well- modulated ; — and his natural genius was strong and masculine ; his understanding clear ; his memory retentive ; his invention quick ; his imagination sprightly and fiorid, his thoughts sub- lime ; and his language elegant, strong and expressive. His temper or disposition was naturally modest, diffident, and retir- ing ; but when roused by ditficulties, or strongly urged by a sense of duty, he was, from a consciousness of his mental resources, enterprising bold, and fearless. He w^as remarkably neat and tasteful in his dress, and dignified and polite in his manners. A distinguished character of the day, in seeing him walk through a court-yard once, said, ' he looked liJce the ambassador of some great king.'' " Mr. Davies wrote and prepared his sermons with great care : this he was enabled to do, notwithstanding the great and nmlti- plied pastoral duties which he had to perform, from the fact that he had so many places of preaching, and that they were so wide apart, that one sermon could be preached throughout his exten- sive range, without much danger of any of his hearers having heard the same discourse twice. His common practice was to take his manuscripts with him into the pulpit, and make more or less use of them in delivering his discourses. But his memory was such, and the frequent use he was permitted to make of the same sermon rendered it so familiar that he was never tram- meled in his delivery. Though this was his common practice yet he would sometimes extemporize to very happy effect. One of his confidential elders once said to him — ' Mr. Davies, how is it, that you, who are so well informed upon all theological sub- jects, and can express yourself with so much ease and readiness, npon any subject, and in any company, and have language so at your command, should think it necessary to prepare and write your sermons with so much care, and take your notes into the pulpit, and make such constant use of them? Why do you not. XXXll LIFE AND TIMES like many other preachers, oftener preach extempore V Mr. Da- vies' reply was this : — ' I ahva3^s thought it to be a most awful thing to go into the pulpit and there speak nonsense in the name of God. Besides, when I have an opportunity of preparing, and neglect to do so, I am afraid to look up to God for assistance, for that would be to ask him to countenance my negligence. But when I am evidently called upon to preach, and have had no op- portunity to make suitable preparation, if I see it clearly to be my duty, I am not afraid to try to preach extempore, and I can with confidence look up to God for assistance.' " JSTo one can be at a loss to know what was the style of Mr. Davies' preaching, who has ever read his printed sermons, for they are verbatim^ as he delivered them, and no doubt were print- ed from the very manuscripts which he used in the pulpit. It should not be thought wonderful if such sermons, accompanied with his dignified appearance — appropriate gestures — clear, well modulated and melodious voice, should have interested the peo- ple, and insured him overwhelming congregations. His preach- ing was intelligible and attractive to people of every class and condition — the high and the low, the rich and the poor. He had an unusual popularity among the poor illiterate slaves ; took great pains with them, and spent much time in having them taught to read, and furnishing them with Bibles and hymn books, and other suitable books. When he left Virginia, it is probable his colored communicants were more numerous than the white. The writer of this has known many of his black members, and they have always been esteemed by their masters as servants of a superior order ; which secured to them not only the friendship and confidence of their owners, but treatment more like Ohristain brethren than slaves. " Mr. Davies, in his letters to Mr. Bellamy and others, speaks very discouragingly of his success, especially as contrasted with the effects produced before his arrival, by the four days' preach- ing of Mr. Robinson; but he evidently does not do himself jus- tice by such remarks and comparisons. Mr. Robinson's labors were all employed at one place, in Hanover, among the same people, and without any intermission. It is natural, therefore, without overlooking the supernatural aids of divine grace, to ex- pect that instrumentalities, thus employed, should produce more OF THE AUTHOR. XXXUl visible effects than if the same means had been spread over as many different counties, among different sets of hearers, and with considerable intervals of time between the sermons. The fruits of Mr. Robinson's labors -were visible at once, but upon a very limited scale, compared with the extensive field over which Mr. Davies had not only to scatter the seed, but to prepare the soil by subduing the thorns and noxious weeds. No doubt mucli of Mr. Davies' work was lost, because he had always to hurry away to some other part of his extensive bounds. Those that came after Mr. Davies, were better able to judge of his usefulness than he was himself at the time. There was no remarkable revival of religion during his ministry, bnt there was a gradual increase, and a growing and deepening impression of the necessity and im- portance of religion. If he could have devoted his labors, and concentrated his energies, upon a smaller field, no doubt there would have been more visible fruits seen ; but whether he did not perform a greater and better work, by preparing an extensive field for many laborers to come after and gather the fruits, is a question of no easy solution, Mr. Davies was but the pioneer for Presbyterianism and vital piety in Virginia ; and his mysteri- ous and speedy removal to another sphere, just as his prospects in Virginia began to brighten, has to many appeared of very questionable propriety." Mr. Davies continued in the field of labor in Virginia, until he was elected to the Presidency of the College of New Jersey, in the year 1759. He was chosen to succeed President Edwards. President Burr died in September, 1757 ; President Edw^ards was elected soon after, but was not inducted into ofiice until Februa- ry, 1758, and died in the March following. Mr. Davies was in- augurated as President in July, 1759, and continued in the office until his death, on the 4th of February, 1761. He " preached his farewell sermon to his people, June 1st, 1769. The effect pro- duced upon the minds of his people can neither be conceived nor expressed. Despondency and gloom hung over the whole as- sembly, and the distress and surprise with many were too great to admit of the relief which a flood of tears might afford. The consternation was nearly as great with the Presbytery, for a pa- ralyzing discouragement seemed to have possessed all in Vir- XXXIV LIFE AND TIMES ginia who were concerned in this matter ; after which everything of a religious nature seemed to decline. Ichabod seemed to be ■written, not only on his own congregation, but on the entire Presbytery ; from which it has hardly ever recovered since. His congregation in Hanover began at once to dwindle away by death, but more frequently by removals to the upper counties, where the soil and climate were more inviting. Perhaps God saw it was necessary ; for if ever a people were guilty of man worship, they were ; and sorely did they pay for it." — De. Hill. It is as a preacher^ particularly, that it is proper to contem- plate him in an " Introduction " to his Sermons : and all that is needful, therefore, to say of his character as the President of a College, is, that he equalled the most sanguine expectations of liis friends ; and that, at his death, he left the College in as high a state of literary merit as it had ever been in since its first in- stitution. A more full account of his eiforts to benefit the Col- lege, and of his success, may be found in the Appendix to Dr. Green's " Discourses, delivered in the College of New Jersey, ad- dressed chiefly to candidates for the first degree in the arts." Pp. 350-355. He died from an inflammatory fever, after an ill- ness of tw^o days, which was supposed to have been caused mainly by his having been unskilfully bled. His death was probably hastened, as he had been predisposed to disease, by his unremitting application to study, and to the duties of his office. His previous situation had afforded little leisure, and compara- tively few means, for the cultivation of general science. To qualify himself for his new station, therefore, his application to study became intense and unremitted. This fact, and the fact that during his residence in Princeton, he had almost wholly neglected the exercise to which he had been accustomed in Vir- ginia, contributed to render the disease incurable. During his brief illness, the violence of the disease was such as almost wholly to deprive him of the exercise of reason. " His faltering tongue was, however, continually uttering some expedient to promote the prosperity of the Church of Clirist, and the good of mankind." His remains lie in the churchyard in Princeton, by the side of Presidents Burr, Edwards, Finley, and Witherspoon. The follow- ing inscription Ib recorded on the stone which marks his grave : — OF THE AUTHOK, XXXV Sub hoc mannore sepulchrali Mortales Exuvias Reverendi perquam viri, SAMUELIS DA VIES, A.M. Collegii Nov-CiBsarieusis Proasidis, Fr.turum Domini Adventuiu praestolaiitur. Ne te, viator, ut pauea de tanto Tamque dilecto vivo resciscas, Panlisper morari pigeat. Natus est in Comitatu de Newcastle, juxta Delaware, iii. Novembris, Anno Salutis reparatae, MDCCXXIV. S.V. Sacris ibidem initiatus, xix. Februarii, MDCOXLVII. Tutelam pastoralem Ecclesiaa In Comitatu de Hanover, Virginiensium, suscepit. Ibi per xi. plus minus Annos, Ministri evangelici laboribus Indefesse, et favente Numine, auspicato perfunctus. Ad munus Prassidiale Collegii Nov-Ceesariensis gerendum Yocatus est, et inauguratus, xxvi. Julii, MDCCLIX. S.K Sed, proh Rerum inane ! intra Biennium, Febre correptus, Candidam aniraam coelo reddidit, iv. Februarii, MDCCLXI Heu quam exiguum Vitse Curriculum ! Corpore fuit eximio ; Gestu liberali, placido, augusto. In genii Nitore, Morum Integritate, Munificentia, Facilitate, Inter paucos illustris. Rei literariffi poritus ; Theologus promptus, perspicax. In Rostiis, per Eloquium blandum, mellitum, Vehemens simul, et perstringens, nulli secundus. Scriptor ornatus, sublimis, disertus. Praesertim vero Pietate, Ardente in Deum Zelo et Religione spectandus. In tanti viri, majora meriti, Memoriam duraturam, Amici hoc qualecunque monumentum, Honoris ergo, et Gratitudinis, posuere Abi, viator, ei semulare. XXXVlll LIFE AND TIMES lirious, and always stupid. But, Avhcn I had any little sense of things, I generally felt pretty calm and serene ; and death, that mighty terror, was disarmed. Indeed, the thought of leaving my dear family destitute, and my flock shepherdless, made me often start back and cling to life ; but in other respects death appeared a kind of indifference to me. Formerly I have wished to live longer, that I might be better prepared for Heaven ; but this consideration had but very little weight with me, and that for a very unusual reason, which was this : After long trial, I found this world is a place so unfriendly to the growth of every thing Divine and Heavenly, that I was afraid, if I should live longer, I should be no better fitted for Heaven than I am. In- deed, I have hardly any hopes of ever making any great attain- ments in holiness while in this world, though I should be doom- ed to stay in it as long as Methuselah. I see other Christians, indeed, around me, make some progress, though they go on with but a snail-like motion ; but when I consider that I set out about twelve years old, and what sanguine hopes I then had of my future progress, and yet tl)at I have been almost at a stand ever since, I am quite discouraged. O my good master, if I may dare to call thee so, I am afraid I shall never serve thee much better on this side the region of perfection. The thought grieves me : it breaks my heart, but I can hardly hope better. But if I have the least spark of true piety in my breast, I shall not always labor under this complaint. No, my Lord, I shall yet serve thee — serve thee through an immortal duration — with the activ- ity, the fervor, the perfection of the rapt seraph that adores and turns. I very much suspect this desponding view of the matter is wrong ; and I do not mention it with approbation, but only relate it as an unusual reason for my willingness to die, which I never felt before, and which I could not suppress. "In my sickness, I found the unspeakable importance of a Mediator in a religion for sinners. O ! I could have given you the word of a dying man for it, that that Jesus, whom you preach, is indeed a necessary, and an all-sufficient Savior. In- deed, he is the only support for a departing soul. None but Christ — none hut Christ ! Had I as many good works as Abraham or Paul^ I would not have dared to build my hopes upon such a quicksand, but only on this firm eternal rock. OF THE AUTHOR. XXXIX " I am rising up, my brother, with a desire to recommend him better to my fellow-sinners than I have done. But, alas ! I hardly hope to accomplish it. lie has done a great deal more by ine already than I ever expected, and infinitely more than I deserved. But he never intended me for great things. lie has beings, both of my own and of superior orders, that can perform him more worthy service. O ! if I might but untie the latchet of his shoes, or draw water for the service of his sanctuary, it is enough for me. I am no angel, nor would I murmur because I am not. " My strength fails me, and I must give over. Pray for me write to me. Love me, living and dying, on earth and in heaven." 2. He was distinguished for an imagination singularly rich and sublime. He was himself a poet, and the characteristics of a poetic genius are seen in rich abundance on the pages of his ser- mons. His language is elevated, glowing, and warm from the lieart; and the scenes which he describes are placed before the mind with a most vivid reality. Occasionally, indeed, there is a luxuriancy amounting to redundancy in the images which he uses, and a want of care in his style, which he probably would himself have corrected, had he lived to a more mature age, or had he lived to publish his sermons himself. Indeed, there are some expressions in his discourse on the General Judgment, which now would be regarded as bordering on the ludicrous ; and which a more chastened imagination, or a severe criticism, would have removed. His sermons, moreover, are not distin- guished for minute accuracy of language, or those terse periods which many later compositions of the same kind possess. Occa- sionally, also, we meet with something that appears loose, tumid and declamatory. The general tenor of the sentences, however, is harmonious ; and there is such an unction of piety and popu- larity of manner ; there are so elevated conceptions, and such a variety of beautiful images, that the minor imperfections are for- gotten, and the reader is borne along with the subject, charmed by the happy union of genius and piety everywhere apparent. When delivered by a man of the noble bearing, the fine form, the eloquent gesticulation, the fervor of manner, and the heart and soul of such a man as Mr. Davies, it is easy to understand Xl LIFE AND TIMES the reason why he had so commanding an influence over a popular audience, and why he was characterized as " the prince of preachers." 3. He was distinguished for strong and vigorous sense ; for just thinking, powerful reasoning, and pungent addresses to the conscience and the heart. In an argument, the hearer is con- ducted from point to point hy a clear chain of connected reason- ing, and every position is sustained ; and in direct appeals to men, the conscience is made to respond to the claims which the preacher urges. Under the delivery of these sermons, it would have been impossible for a well-educated and thinking skeptic not to feel that their was much in Christianity which demanded his attention, or for any man not to feel that religion had claims on the conscience and the heart superior to all other claims. 4. President Davies was a man who regarded ample prepara- tion as indispensable for the successful performance of the duties of the ministry. His sermons bear the marks of having been prepared with great care ; and we know what were his views on that subject. He possessed uncommon facility for making at- tainments in his studies, and gained knowledge witii an ease with which few are favored ; but still, the consciousness of this never deterred him from intense application, and fi-om the use of all the means in his power for enlarging the boundaries of his attainments. He is known to have declared, that " every dis- course of his, which he thought worthy of tiie name of a sermon, cost him four days' hard study in the preparation." It was owing to this toil, as well as to the extraordinary talents with which he had been endowed, that he became, perhaps, the most elo- quent and accomplished pulpit orator that this country has pro- duced ; that he was more successful in winning souls to the Re- deemer than any other minister of the age in which he lived, if we except, perhaps, Whitfield and Edwards ; and that his ser- mons have been probably more popular than any other sermons which have ever issued from the American press. Before the y^ar 1800, nine editions had been published; and it would be difficult to estimate the number that liave been issued in Great Britain and in this country. When the size and expense of OF THE AUTHOR. xli the work is considered, and when it is remembered that his ser- mons are almost wliolly posthumous in their publication, such an expression of the public favor is the most conclusive proof of their value. 5. President Davies was a warm and ardent friend of revivals of religion. The age in which he lived was characterized emi- nently by such works of grace, and his heart sympathized with those who prayed for them, and who were blessed with them. lie sympathized with the Tennents, and with Edwards and Bella- my, in their views of such displays of the divine power, and nothing gave him more joy than the evidence of the presence of the Spirit of God attending the preaching of the gospel with a blessing. The folloAving extract from a letter to a friend in England on this subject, lays open the secrets of his soul in reference to re- vivals of religion. " The best news that perhaps I ever heard in my life, I lately received from my favorite friend, Mr. Samuel Finley, minister of Nottingham, in Pennsylvania, tutor of a large academy, and one of the trustees of the college of New Jersey. I had sent him some extracts from my British letters, giving an account of the revival of religion in sundry parts of England, particularly among the clergy : in answer to which he writes thus : "'April 16, 1757. I greatly rejoice that our Lord Jesus has put it in my power to make you a large compensation for the good news you sent me. God has done great things for us. Our glorious Redeemer poured out his Holy Spirit upon the students of our college ; not one of all who were present neglected— and they were in number sixty. The whole house, say my corre- spondents, was a Bochim. Mr. William Tennent, who was on the spot, says, he "never saw any in that case who had more clear views of God, themselves, and their defects — their impo- tence and misery, than they had in general : that there never was, he believes, in any house, more genuine sorrow for sin, and longing after Jesus : that this glorious work was gradual, and spread like the increasing light of the morning : that it was not begun by the ordinary methods of preaching, nor promoted by alarming methods; yet so great was their distress, that he judged it improper to use any arguments of terror in public, lest Xlii • LIFE AND TIMES some should sink under the weight : that wliat makes the gra- cious visitation more remarkable was, that a little before, some of the youth had given a greater loose to their corruptions than was ordinary among them; a spirit of pride and contention pre- vailing, to the great grief and even discouragement of the worthy President : that there were no public outcries, but a decorous, silent solemnity ; that before he came away, several had received something like the spirit of adoption ; being tenderly affected with tho sense of redeeming love, and thereby disposed and de- termined to endeavor after universal holiness." " ' Mr. Treat and Mr. G, Tennent tell me in theirs, that the concern appeared rational, solid, and scriptural ; and that in a remarkable degree. I was informed by some of the students who had been my pupils, that tliis religious concern first began with the son of a very considerable gentleman of New York. The youth was dangerously sick at college ; and on that occa- sion, awakened to a sense of his guilt. His discourse made some impression on a few others, and theirs again on more ; so that it became almost general, before the good President, or any others, knew anything of it. As soon as it became public, mis- representations were spread abroad ; and some gentleman sent to bring their sons home. But upon better information, the most were sent back again. The wicked companions of some young gentlemen, left no methods untried to recover them to their for- mer excess of riot ; and with two or three have been lamentably successful. " ' Mr. Duffield (a worthy young minister) informed me the other day, that a very hopeful religious concern spread through the Jerseys, especially among young people. In several letters from Philadelphia, from Mr. G. Tennent and others. I have an assurance of a revival there for which good people are blessing God. Lawyer Stockton informs me, tiiat he is certified by good authority, of a gracious work of God at Yale College, in New Haven.' " This, sir, is some of the best news from one of the best of my correspondents. You will join with me in blessing God, and con- gratulating posterity, upon tliis happy, surprising revolution, in a college to wliich the eager eyes of so many churches look for supplies. Perhaps it may afford me the more pleasure, as my OF THE AUTHOR. xlHi having taken so much pains to promote that institution, gives me a kind of paternal solicitude for it, though I live near four hundred miles from it. "The finger of God is the more conspicuous in this affair, as the students, wlio had so often heard such excellent sermons from the worthy President, and from the many ministers from various [)arts, who have occasionally officiated there, without any general good efl'ects, should he universally awakened by means of a sick boy. Though this college was well founded, and well conducted, yet I must own, I was often afraid it was degener- ating into a college of mere learning. But now my fears are removed, by the prospect that sincere piety, that grand ministe- rial qualification, will make equal advances." "6. President Davies was an ardent and devoted friend of his country. He lived in the forming period of our history, and he exerted his great influence in vindication of his country's rights. The country was alarmed and agitated to the higliest degree by (the French and Indian war, wddle he was a pastor in Virginia. There was even much talk of abandoning a part of tlie colony of Virginia to the enemy. On the 10th of July, 1755, General Braddock sustained his memorable defeat, and tlie remnant of his army was saved by the courage and skill of Colonel Washing- ton, then only twenty-three years old. On the 20th of this month, Mr. Davies preached a sermon '' On the defeat of General Brad- dock, going to Fort Du Quesne." In this sermon, he calls on all his hearers, in the most impassioned and animating strains, to show " themselves men, Britons and Christaiiis, and to make a noble stand for the blessings they enjoyed." It was feared the negroes would rise up and join the French. His influence among the blacks was greater, perhaps, than that of any other man ; and he used it all to persuade and deter them from joining the enemy. In August, of the same year, he delivered a sermon in Hanover, to Captain Overton's company of independent volun- teers, under the title of " Religion and patriotism the constitu- ents of a good soldier." It was in a note to liis sermon, that he expressed the hope, which has been so often since noticed in re- gard to Washington. " As a remarkable instance of this [of the fact that God had ' diffused some sparks of martial fire through xliv LIFE AND TIMES the country'], I may point out," said he, " to the public that he- roic youth, Colonel Washington, whom I cannot but hope Provi- dence has hitherto preserved, in so signal a msmner, for some im- portant service to Ms countryy " The celebrated Patrick Henry," says Dr. Green, " is known to have spoken in terms of enthusiasm of Mr. Davies. And as that great statesman and powerful orator lived from his eleventh to his twenty-second year, in the neighborhood where his patri- otic sermons were delivered, and wdiich produced effects as pow- erful as those ascribed to Demosthenes himself, it has been sup- posed, with much probability, that it was Mr. Davies who first kindled the fire, and afforded the model of Henry's elocution." As a preacher, President Davies was eminently fitted to the times in which he lived. He w^as one of the great men whom God raised up at that time to impress their features on the age, and to mould the opinions of their countrymen. He was such a preacher as the times then demanded, and such a preacher, in the great features of his ministry, as this age also demands ; and had lie lived no%v, he w^ould have fallen in with, or rather would have been a leader in all that is good that characterizes this generation. It is not presumption, nor should it pass for mere conjecture, to say, that with the advantages which we now en- joy, he would have been an eminently close student of the Bible; a friend of the great enterprises of Christian benevolence ; an advocate of temperance and of revivals; an enemy of wild and visionary view^s, of strife, and bigotry and schism ; as a man of charity jmd liberality of sentiment ; a preacher disposed to unite with all who love the Lord Jesus, in efforts to do good ; and a friend of Christian liberty and peace. On occasion, therefore, of issuing these sermons again from the press, and of bringing before the public mind and heart the name of an American so distinguished as he was, I have thought it would not be inappropriate to suggest some thoughts in con- nection with this publication, on the hind of preaching that this age demands^ or the Tcind of ministry fitted to the times in which we live. The importance of this subject, with reference to the w-elfare of our country, and the interest Avhich is everywhere felt in it, v/ill furnish, it is hoijed, an apology for such suggestions. The subject itself is such, that no one can over-estimate its im- OF THE AUTHOR. xlv portance; and he who contributes any thoughts that may be of even inconsiderable value in themselves, is doing something to serve liis generation. Believing that the edition of the sermons of Davies now issued will have an extensive circulation, it is not denied that the hope is cherished, in making these suggestions, to reach some minds that could not otherwise be accessible, and to do something to elevate the prevailing views of tlie sacrednesa and the importance of the office of the Christian ministry. The suggestions are submitted with deference, particularly to those who are candidates for this high office, and who are inquiring with solicitude what shall be the great object of their aim in the work to which they have devoted their lives. It has been comparatively rare, in this world, that any indi- vidual has embarked on life, or on any enterprise, with a deter- mined purpose to see how much could be done by the utmost efforts of which the mind and the body could be made capable. Occasionally such an individual has appeared; and appeared to astonish us no less by the vastness and the success of his own efforts, than by the proof Avhich he has thus furnished of the im- becility, and indolence, and wasted talents of that great mass of mankind. Such a man was Howard — living to make "full proof" of how much could be done in a single object of benevo- lence. "The energy of his determination," it has been said, " was the calmness of an intensity kept uniform by the nature of the human mind forbidding it to be more, and by the character of the individual forbidding it to be less. The habitual passion of his mind was a measure of feeling almost equal to the tempo- rary extremes and paroxysms of common minds; as a great river, in its customary state, is equal to a small or moderate one when swollen to a torrent."* Such a man, in a far different de- partment was Napoleon; living to illustrate the power of great talents concentrated on a single object, and making " full proof" of the terrible energy of the single passion of ambition. Such a man, too, was the short-lived Alexander; and, in a different sphere, such a man was Paul ; and, to a considerable extent, such a man was Whitfield. But, compared with the immense * Foster's Essay on "Decision of Character." Xlvi LIFE AND TIMES multitude of minds which have existed on the earth, sucli in- stances, for good or evil, have been rare. A part has been sunk in indolence from which no motives would rouse thein. Part have been wholly unconscious of their own powers. Part have never been placed in circumstances to call forth their en- ergies, or have not been endowed with original power to create such circumstances, or to start a plan that should require such concentrated efforts to complete it. Part have never been under the right influence, in the process of training, to make "full proof " of the powers of the soul ; part have wasted their talents in wild and visionary schemes, unconscious of the waste, or of the main error of their life, till life Avas too far gone to attempt to repair the loss ; — some are thwarted by a rival ; some meet with discouragements, are early disheartened, and give up all effort in despair. Most reach the close of life, feeling, if they have any right feeling, that they have accomplished almost nothing — the good usually with the reflection, that if they ever accomplish much, it must now be in a higher state of being. Even Grotius, one of the most laborious and useful of men, is said to have ex- claimed near the close of his life, " Proh vitam perdidi, operos^ nihil agendo.'" What I have remarked of individual powers, is true also of associated intellects, and of institutions designed to act on man- kind. Full proof has never yet been made of the power of th-e church to sanctify and save the world ; of the Bible to elevate the human intellect, to purify the heart, and to change the social habits, laws, and morals of mankind ; of the Sabbath to arrest the bad influences that set in upon man from the world, and to promote order, happiness, and salvation ; and of the ministry to save souls from death. There has been a vast amount of un- developed power in all these to affect mankind ; and the past furnishes us in some bright periods with glimpses of what is yet to be the living reahty, but the full proof remains to benefit and to bless some future age. The qualifications for the Christian ministry, in all ages, and in all places, are essentially the same. The same great doc- trines are to be preached ; the same plan of salvation to be ex- plained and defended ; the same duties toward God, and toward man, in the various relations of life, to be inculcated. The hu- OF THE AUTHOK. xlvil injin lieart is, in all ages, and climes, and nations, essentially tlie SMine ; and men are everywhere to be saved in the same way. Man, '' no matter whether an Indian, an African," an European or an American sun has shown upon him, is a siunt-r. lie comes into existence a fallen being. He enters on his immortal career ruined by the apostasy of the progenitor of the race. lie com- mences life, certain that he will begin to sin as soon as lie begins to act ; and will sin on forever in this world and the next, unless ho is redeemed by atoning blood, and renewed and sanclified by the Spirit of God. For him there is no salvation but in the sac- rifice of the Sou of God in human nature — a vicarious otforing for the sins af men. In that great Savior there is hope ; in him there is full redemption ; and by his merits only can a sinner be justified and stand before God. Each successive generation is to be met with this gospel ; and on each individual the influences of the Holy Ghost are to be sought, that his heart may be renewed, and his soul saved. The great system teaching the fall and ruin of man ; the doctrine of the threefold existence of the divine nature ; the incarnation and the atonement of the Son of God ; the necessity of regeneration by the holy Spirit ; the necessity of holy living ; the resurrection of the dead, and of eternal judgment, is to be proclaimed from age to age, and from land to land. The first essential qualification for this work, everywdiere and always, is riEXY. The minister should be a converted man. He should not merely be a moral man, or an amiable man, or a gift- ed man, or a learned man, or a serious-minded man, or a man desirous of being converted ; he should be a regenerated man. He should have such evidence on that point as not to have his own mind embarrassed and perplexed on it ; such as never to leave a doubt amounting to '' a shadow of a shade " on the mind of others. He should have confidence in God. He should have no doubt of the truth of the system which he defends ; he should have no doubt that God intends to bless that system of truth which he preaches to save the world. At all times; in all lands; in every variety of the fluctuating customs and laws among mankind, the ministers of the gospel should be " wise as serpents, and harmless as doves ;" they should* be " blameless, vigilant, sober, of good behavior" — or modest (marg.) — Koa/niov—^ xlviii LIFE AND TIMES " given to hospitality, apt to teach, not given to Avine — //^ Trdpoivog — (marg. ' not ready to quarrel, and offer wrong as one in wine ' — ' not sitting long hy Avine,' EoMnson) ; no striker, not greedy of filthy lucre, not a brawler, not covetous ; he should not be a novice — (marg. ' one newly come to the faith' — vlo^vtov) ; and he must have a good report of them which are without. In all ages and places, the ministers of the gospel are to preach the word ; they are to be instant in season, out of season ; they are to give attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine — (didaaKaXl^^ teaching) ; they are to reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all long-suffering ; they are to be lovers of good men, sober, just, holy, temperate ; they are to follow after righteousness, godli- ness, faith, love, patience, meekness ; they are to fight the good fight of faith, and to lay hold on eternal life ; they are to watch in all things, endure aflflictions, do the work of evangelists, make full proof of their ministry." Never were the general qualifications of the ministry better drawn by an uninspired pen than in the well-known words of Cowper : " Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul, Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own, Paul should himself direct me. I would trace His master-strokes, and draw from his design ; I would express him simple, grave, sincere ; In doctrine uncorrupt ; in language plain, And plain in manner, decent, solemn, chaste And natural in gestui-e ; much impressed Himself, as conscious of his awful charge. And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too ; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men." Task, B. ii. But while it is true that the qualifications for the Christian ministry are always essentially the same, it is also true that dif- ferent contries, ages, and fields of labor require peculiar endow- ments in those who minister at the altar. Some great duty or class of duties in one age or country shall demand peculiarly to be inculcated ; some gigantic form of wickedness is to be met and overthrown ; some far-spreading and subtle error is to be de- OF THE AUTHOK. xUx tected and removed ; some great enterprise for the welfare of man is to be originated, vindicated, and sustained ; or some pro- pensity of the age or country shall need to be counteracted and opposed by all the power and talent of the Christian ministry. In the times of the apostles, great energy of character was de- manded ; great sell-denial and readiness to meet privation and danger ; and great wisdom in standing up to oppose the systems of philosophy which had so long reigned over the human mind. A spirit of noble enterprise and bold daring was demanded, to cross seas and lands ; to encounter perils and storms ; to be ready to stand on trial before kings, and to meet death in any form, in such a way as to do honor to religion. The prevailing systems of religion were sustained by all the wisdom of philosophy, and by all the power of the civil arm ; and the very boldness of the new preachers, their zeal and disinterestedness, and conscious- ness of having the truth, was to strike dismay into the friends of idolatry, and under God to change the religion of the world. Such men were found in Paul and his fellow-laborers ; men great in all the essential quahfications of the sacred ofSce, and men peculiarly adapted to the times in which they lived. In subse- quent times, to be a Christian was to be a martyr ; to be a min- ister of religion was to be in the front ranks of those who consti- tuted the great procession that was led to the rack or the stake ; and the times demanded men of steady firmness of purpose and of unwavering confidence in God ; men who could cheer their fellow-sufferers, and teach them how to die, as well as how to live ; and such men in early times were found in Ignatius and Polycarp ; in later times in Ridley and Latimer. Again, subtle and profound systems of philosophy came into the church, and the simplicity of the faith began to be corrupt- ed ; and then was demanded the aid of men who could follow out the mazes of sophistry, and expose skilful error ; and such men were found as Athanasius and Augustine ; in later times such men as Horsly and Edwards. Times like the Reformation, also, demanded a peculiar order of ministers. All the other qualifications of almost every other age seemed to be required in combination. A spirit bold and firm to meet power and rebuke sin in the high places of ecclesiastical office, as well as on thrones ; a readiness to meet martyrdom, and a patience in suf- 1 LIFE AND TIMES feriug such as was demanded in the days of Polycarp and Igna- tius ; the power of detecting and exposing subtle error in the most skilfully constructed system of error that has ever obtained an ascendency over the human mind ; requiring far more ability than was requisite to meet the subtilty of the ancient philosophy ; and God raised up such men. The ministry furnished such men as Luther, and Calvin, and Knox, and Cranmer ; and never were the demands of an interesting age of the world better met than by the labors of those men. They were made what they were in part by the times in which they lived ; but they would have been adapted to any age, and would have left the impress of their great minds upon it. The idea which I have endeavored thus far to illustrate is, that the qualifications for the ministry, at all times, and in all lands, are essentially the same : a pious heart, a prudent mind, a sober judgment, well-directed and glowing zeal, self-denial, simplicity of aim, and deadness to the world ; but that these qualifications are to be somewhat modi- fi.ed by the peculiarities of each age ; and that the age in which men live must be studied in order that they may make '' full proof of their ministry-." I proceed now to what I intend as the main design of this part of this essay, to inquire what are the qualifications for the minis- try which are peculiarly demanded by our times and country. What should be the grand aim of the ministry ? For what should the ministers of the gospel be peculiarly distinguished ? It may be impossible to consider these questions without trenching somewhat on what I have mentioned as the essential qualifica- tions of the ministry at all times, but my main object will not be interfered with. 1. The times in which we live demand of the ministry a close, and patient, and honest investigation of the Bible. The geupval reasons for this are too obvious to detain us. Tiie truths wl'ich the ministry is to present are to be derived from the word of God. They are not the truths of mental philosophy ; they are not the theories formed by a fertile imagination ; they are not the opin- ions held by men ; they are not systems embodied merely in creeds and symbols, they are the ever-fresh and ever-living truths of the Bible. It is almost too obvious to need remark, that the OF THE AUTHOR. li man who goes forth to proclaim the gospel, should bo able, at least, to read it in the language in which it was originally pen- ned. Why should a man attempt to expound a message which he can neither read nor understand as it came from the band of him who commissioned him ? Can there be a more evident un- fitness for his work than to be ignorant of the very document which it is the main business of his life to explain to others? It is almost too absurd for grave remark, to speak of an ambassador who cannot, except by an interpreter, read his own credentials; of a laAvyer who cannot read the laws which he expounds ; of a teacher who cannot read even the books which he professes to teach. And yet it is as true as it is melancholy, that the business of studying the Bible, in any proper sense of the w^ord study^ is a business to w^hich even in the ministry there is often a sad reluc- tance. I speak now of the fair and honest study of the Scriptures in the language in which they were originally written, and in the use of all the helps wiiich the God of Providence and grace has now given to illustrate this most wonderful ancient book which the ministry is called to explain and defend. Who knows not how reluctantly this is approached even in the seminaries of Christian theology ? Who knows not how it is often laid aside as soon as the departing evangelist has bid adieu to the place of his theological training ? And who knows not that the whole arrangement of the "study " afterwards contemplates the removal of all books written in the Greek and Hebrew tongue to the most remote and unfrequented department of the Library ? And who is ignorant of the fact, that to multitudes of ministers in this land, with all the advantages which they have had, the original lan- guages of the Scriptures are unapproached and inapproachable treasures — gold and diamonds hidden from their view, or rich ore which they are incapable of turning up to find the truth. The study of the original languages of the Scriptures in our semina- ries is often like the study of music in the schools of female edu- cation. Many a weary hour is spent upon it ; many a difficulty met and surmounted ; and when the sober business of life is en- tered on, music is laid aside as useless, or its memory is revived only to amuse an idle hour, or to please the transient guest. Happy would it be if the ministers of religion would, even for lii LIFE AND TIMES amusement, recall the study of the languages in Avhich holy men spoke and wrote. But a higher motive assuredly should lead them to it — the high motive of being able to understand the book to an explanation of which they have devoted their lives. The age in which we live is not, as it seems to me, distinguish- ed for simple and direct appeals to the Bible, in defence of the doctrines of religion. Extensively it is an age in which the ap- peal is made to the opinions of the fathers ; to the authority of creeds and symbols of faith ; to the opinions of other times ; an age in which to depart from those symbols and opinions, or to doubt their infallibility, is regarded with suspicion, and when such a departure in the slightest degree turns many an eye with deep vigilance on the first steps of the wanderer. By many it is held, or rather felt, that the system of religious doctrine has been settled by the investigations of the past ; that there is no hope of discovering any new truth ; that theology, as now held, is not susceptible of improvement ; that the whole field has been dug over again and again witli instruments as finished as our own, and by as keen-sighted laborers as any of the present age can be ; and that it is presumption for a man to hope to find in those mines a new gem that would sparkle in the crown of truth. No good or grateful man will undervalue the wisdom of the past. He will be thankful for all the toil of the hands, the head and the heart, by Avhicli we are placed in our present advanced position over other times. In religion, as well as in everything else, we are acting on the results, and deriving the full benefit of the experience of the past. We reap the fruits of all the self-de- nials and sacrifices ; the profound studies, the travels, the skilful inventions, and the sufferings of past times. Every happy dis- cover}^, every ing»."nious invention, every hour of patient study, every improvement in past times, has gone into the amelioration of tlie human condition, and has contributed its part to the civili- zation and refinement of the age in which we live. There has not been a philosopher who has not thought for us ; not a traveller who has not travelled for us; not a defender of liberty who has not fought for us ; not an advocate of violated riglits who has not pleaded for us ; not a skilful student in medicine who has not con- tributed somethingto make our condition more happy ; not a mar- tvr Avho has not suifered to establish the religion whose smiles OF THE AUTHOR. M and sunshine we now enjoy, and not a profound thinker in theo- logy who has not done something to chase away error, and to disclose the truth, that we may sec it and be made better for it. " Other men have labored, and we have entered into their labors. "We begin where they left off; we start on life under all the ad- vantages of the wisdom and knowledge and piety of past times; and we should not undervalue or despise it. But is the field fully explored ? Is there nothing yet to be learned from the bible ? Is there no encouragement for us to study the word of God ? Are we to receive the systems mad© ready to our hands, and to suppose that there may be no rich vein in this bed, that has not yet been fully explored ? Even were it so, it would be better for the minister of religion to go to the Bible and get his views of truth there, than from any mortal lips, or from any human system of theology. There all is still fresh, and vigorous, and instinct with life. The word of God is a fountain ever fresh and health-giving ; and the streams that issue thence create a rich verdure where they flow. They are like the rivers that flow along in the deserts in the East. There the course of a stream can be traced afar by the trees, and shrubs, and flowers, and grass that spring up on its bank, and that are sustained by it in its course— a long waving line of green in the waste of sands. Where it winds along, that line of verdure winds along; where it expands into a lake that expands ; where it dies away or is lost in the sand, that disappears. So it is with views of truth that are derived from the word of God, Their course can be traced along in a world not unlike pathless sands, as the course of the river can be traced in the desert. The Bible is the true fountain of waters in this world ; and as Ave wander away from that, in our investigations and our preaching, we wan- der amid pathless sands. But can there be any improvement in theology? Can there be any advance made on the discoveries of other times ? Is it not presumptuous for us to hope to see what the keen-sighted vision of other times has not seen ? Is not the system of theology per- fect as it came from God? I answer, yes. And so was astrono- my a perfect system when the " morning stars sang together;" but it is one thing for the system to be perfect as it came from God, and another for it to be perfect as it appears in the form in liv LIFE AND TIMES which wc hold it. So were the sciences of botany, and chemis- try', and anatomy perfect as they came from God ; but ages have been required to understand them as they existed in His mind ; and otlier ages may yet furnisli the means of improvement on those systems as held by man. So God has placed tlie gold under ground, and the pearls at the bottom of the sea for man — perfect in their nature as they came from his band. Has all the gold been dug from the mines? Have all the pearls been tished from the bottom of the ocean ? The whole system of sciences was as perfect in the mind of God as the system of revealed truth ; yet all are given to man to be sought out ; to be elaborated by the process of ages; to reward human diligence, and to make man a " co-worker with God." " Truth is the daughter of time ;" and is it to be assumed that all the truth is not known ? That there is no error in the views with which we now hold it ? That all is known of the power of truth yet on the human soul? I am now speaking of the ministry, and not of theology in gen- eral ; and I am urging to the study of the Bible with a view to a more successful preaching of the gospel. It seems to me that as yet we know comparatively little of the power of preaching the truths of the Bible. That man has gained much as a preacher who is willing to investigate, by honest rules, the meaning of the Bible, and then to suffer the truth of God to speak out— no mat- ter where it leans, and no matter on what man, or customs, or systems it impinges. Let it take its course like an unobstructed stream, or like abeam of light direct from the sun to the eyes of men. But when we seek to make embankments for the stream, to confine it within channels, such as we choose, how much of its beauty is lost, and how often do we obstruct it ! When we interpose media between us and the pure light of the sun that we deem ever so clear, how often do we turn aside the rays or divide the beam into scattered rays that may make a pretty picture, but which prevent the full glory of the unobstructed sun ! There is a power yet to be seen in preaching the Bible which the world has not fully understood ; and he does an incalculable service to his own times and to the world, who derives the truths which he inculcates directly from the Book of life. Besides, the Bible is receiving constant illustrations and confirmations from every science, and from every traveler into the oriental world. Not a OF THE AUTHOR. bf man comes back to us from the east who does not give us some new ilhistration of the truth or the beauty of the Bible. He who wanders among the ruins of Babylon; he who visits the mount of Olives or Lebanon; he who gazes upon the remains of tem- ples, and palaces, and upon the dwelling-places of the dead ; he who tells us of desolate Petra or the barren-rock of Tyre; he who describes to us the Bedouin, or tells us how tliey briild a hou.-seor pitch a tent in the east, is doing something to iuak(3 us better ac- quainted with the Bible. A few years past have opened here a vast field of interesting research, and that research has turned the attention of the world to the full confirmation of the Scrip- ture prophecies ; and for a theologian there is now no field of in- vestigation more rich and promising than this ; and how can a man, whose business it is to explain the oracles of God, be igno- rant of it? But where should I stop in the illustration of this point? The minister should be familiar with that wonderful book which he professes to explain and to defend. His life is none too long to make it the object of his study ; nor will the field be all explored when ive die. It will be as fresh, and beau- tiful, and new, too, to the next generation as it is to us ; and when we die, so far from havi«g reached the ultima Thule of dis- covery in the word of God, we shall feel that we have but just entered on the boundless ocean. I confess that long since /have abandoned all idea of fully understanding the Bible in all its parts in this world ; and I am amazed when men gravely suppose there cannot be truths there, like diamonds in the earth, on which the eye has never yet gazed. — The amount of what I have said on this point is this, that the preacher who would make full proof of the ministry, should derive all his doctrines from the word of God ; he should be familiar with all that can illustrate the Bible ; — with its language, its scope, its design ; with all in criticism, archeeology, history, travels, manners, customs, laws, that shall go to vindicate its divine origin, and explain its mean- ing. From this pure fountain of Ufe he should constantly drink. Let him climb the hill of Calvary rather than the heights of Par- nassus, and love less to linger at the Castalian Fount than at " Siloah's brook that flowed Fast by the oracle of God. Ivi LIFE AND TIMES II. The times in -which we live demand a ministry that shall be distinguished for sound and solid learning. Never, indeed, can this qualification be safely dispensed with ; but there is not a lit- tle in our age and country that peculiarly demands it. In no na- tion on the face of the earth has there been a more prevailing and permanent conviction that this was an important, if not an essen- tial qualification for the ministr}^, than in our own ; and to this conviction, and the natural result of that conviction in preparing the ministry for its work, is to be traced no small measure of the respect shown to the sacred oflfice in our land. Our countrymen in general are qualified to appreciate good sense, solid learning, and high attainments, and they are prepared to do honor to such attainments wherever they may be found. It is a bright fact in our history that the first college in our land Avas founded for the purpose of training up men for the Christian ministry ; and it is a fact, tliat is at the same time honorable to the solid learning of the ministr}', and that bespeaks the confidence which the com- munity reposes in the ministry, that nearly all the Presidents, and a very large portion of the professors in our colleges, are, to this day, ministers of the gospel. The people of this nation are willing that this state of things sHould continue. They evince no impotience under the working of the system. They desire no change. The experience of two hundred years has satisfied them that the system works well ; and the men of the world, and even the majority of infidels in the land, who have sons to educate, are 80 satisfied with the propriety of the arrangement, tliat all they demand is the evidence of solid learning united with piety, to place all these institutions in the hands of the ministers of the gospel. But it is not with this reference now that I advocate the ne- cessity of solid learning. It is with reference to the immediate duties of the pastoral office. I do not believe that a minister of the gospel should enter on his work with a view to become ulti- mately a President of a literary institution. If he becomes such, it should be because there are intimations of divine will that do not leave the question of duty in doubt. It is with reference to the oflfice of Pastor ; to the work of the ministry ; to the busi- ness of saving souls, that I now urge the argument that the times demand a ministry that shall be distinguished for solid learning. OF THE AUTHOR. Ivii It should be for the following among many other reasons : (1.) There is great danger of neglecting and undervaluing such attain- ments. There is great danger that, with whatever views the minis- try may be entered, the attention may be soon turned from the pur- suit of whatever can be appropriate!}' classed under the head of classical attainments, or whatever bears on the sciences, or what- ever marks progress in the severe discipline of the mind. This is an age of action — in the ministry and in the world. It is a time when ministers are called to a great amount of labor ; when they are expected to perform a much larger amount of pastoral duties than was required in the days of om* fathers ; when the numerous benevolent institutions of the age make a constant draft on the time, and strength, and toil of pastors ; Avhen the cause of tem- perance, of morals, and of missions — with numerous kindred causes depend on the ministers of the gospel ; and Avhen, there- fore, they are in great danger of satisfying their consciences for a neglect of classic learning, by the fact that they are called to a great amount of collateral duties. It is not to be w^ondered at that in these circumstances a warm-hearted pastor in the midst of the thrilling scenes of a work of grace, or in the pleasantness of the pastoral intercoui-se, or in the wearisomeness caused by the demands on his time, should excuse himself from the diligent pursuit of the somewhat foreign or collateral subjects that do not bear directly on his work. (2.) Again. This is an age when the mass of men are driven forward by headlong propensities, and when there is danger of trampling down, in the pursuit of honor and of gold, all that has been hitherto regarded as valuable and settled in solid learning, as well as in staid and virtuous hab- its. To careful observers of the propensities of this age it has not been regarded as a matter of wonder that the attempt should have been made to displace classic learning from the schools, and to introduce men into the ministry by a shorter course than our fathers thought necessary, and in such a way as to unfit them, when in the ministry, for any eminent attainments in solid learn- ing. It is one of the regular results of the course of events in this age. It is an age, say those who plead for this, of enterprise and action. A large part of life, they go on to remark, is wasted before men begin to act. Months and years are consumed in the attainment of profitless learning; in the mere (irilling of the \viii LIFE AND TIMES Christian soldier, while he ought to he in the field. On the basis of such reasoning as this, the plan is formed for preparing men for action, and for action only. The classics are laid aside. The tini« of preparation is shortened. The field is to be entered at an earlier age, and the ' study' is to be a place quite secondary and unimportant in the arrangements of the ministerial life. Have such men forgotten that a long and tedious training, involving, apparently, a great waste of time, is the allotment of man? "Wliat would seem to be a greater waste of time than that one- third of the ordinary life of man in the period of infancy, child- hood, and youth, is passed in the slow and cumbersome process of learning to talk, to move, to read, to think, and to become ac- quainted with the elements of the mechanic arts ? Is it then a departure from the established laws of the world, when men are called by long and weary toils, to prepare for the momentous work of leading sinners to the altar and the cross ? Who knows not how much more was gained on the field of Waterloo, or in the strife at Trafalgar, by regular and disciplined troops, than could have been done by raw and undisciplined men ? And who, when the banners of victory float over the fields of the slain, or the acclamations of emancipated freemen greet the returning con- queror, regret the days of discipline, or the time spent in prepar- ing for conflict ? And who is to stand up against the headlong propensities of this age, if it be not the minister of the gospel ? And who are to teach our deluded countrymen that there is some- thing better than gold ; that the landmarks of opinion and learn- ing, of morals and sound sense, are not to be trodden down, if it be not the ministers of religion ? And where shall we look for that which will command the respect of thinking men, if it be not to those who have been trained with care in our schools, and who are, by their oflice, to be the guides and instructors of man- kind ? Again; (3.) The age in which we live, is, perhaps, more than most former ages, a period when the attacks on Christianity liave been drawn from learning and science. Each of the sciences as it has developed itself, has been arrayed in some form against the authority of the Bible, and often by the skill of the adversaries of tlie Christian religion in such a form as to alarm its friends. At one time the argument was derived from the disclosures of modern astronomy ; at another from the ancient records of Hin- OF THE AUTHOR. fix dostan and China, and the dynasties of kings who are recorded to have reigned cylces of ages before the account, in Moses, of the creation; at another time the infidel has gone and interrogated the crater of the volcano and searched its liardened scoriae, and made it tell of ages long before the Scripture account of the crea- tion of man; and at another tlie argument has been drawn from the researches of the geologist. All sciences have been taxed to find objections to the Bible ; and there are few infidels who have not derived their objections from some form of pretended learn- ing. In such an age, what shall the ministers of religion do who are unable to defend the book, to vindicate and explain which is the business of their lives ? In this, strife and declamation will not do for argument ; nor will assertion, however confident or fierce, satisfy thinking men. The minister of the gospel should, as he easily may, command the respect of his fellow-men, and should show them — as he easily may, without ostentation — that he is not unworthy the confidence due to one in the office which he sustains. I am not ignorant of the objections which may be felt and urg- ed to these remarks. I know it may be asked how is time to be found for these attainments ? How shall health be secured for these objects ? And another question, not less important, how shall the heart be kept, and the fire of devotion be maintained, brightly burning on the altar of the heart, while making these preparations ? I should transcend all reasonable bounds in my remarks, if I were to attempt to go fully into an answer to these inquiries. I would only observe that it may be at least question- able whether all the ministers of the gospel have just that sense of the value of time which they ought to have, and whether all make full proof of their ministry in the utmost cultivation of their powers. The quesiiun whether the diligence of the student and the faithfulness of the pastor can be united ; whether the intel- lect may be intensely cultivated so as not to interfere with the growth of grace in the heart ; and whether time can be secured for the pursuit of these objects, and yet not interfere with the public duties of the ministry ; whether a man may so study as to contribute something to carry forward the intellect of liis age, and yet not interfere with his duties in the pulpit, in the prayer-meet- ing, in the Bible-class, and in family visitation, and so as to seciire IX LIFE AND TIMES permanent health also is a question which it would be of im- mense importance to settle. " What shall we say to the nine ponderous folios of Augustine, and nearly the same number of Chrysostom, volumes not written like Jerome's in monastic re- tirement, but in the midst of almost daily preaching engage- ments, and conflicting, anxious, and responsible duties ?" What shall we say of the nine folios of Calvin — the most diligent preacher of his age — the man who read every week in the year, three lectures in divinity ; and who preached two hundred and eighty-six times in the year ? What shall we say to the folios of Baxter, the most laborious pastor and the most successful min- ister of his day ? What shall we say of the volumes of Edwards, perhaps the most laborious student, as he was the profoundest man and the best preacher of his time ? In that great man, as- suredly, profound study never interfered with humble-hearted piety ; and in him the contemplation of the most abstruse sub- jects of metaphysical inquiry did not interfere with the most sim- ple style of preaching, or with that solemn and effective elo- quence of the heart which bathe?* a congregation in tears. But I cannot enlarge on this point. The sum of my remarks is, that we may not in this age have learned the art of making fall proof of our ministry, and that there may be a blending of study, and piety, and pastoral fidelity such as shall greatly augment the use- fulness of those who minister at the altar. III. The times demand a ministry of sober views ; of settled liabits of industry ; of plain practical good sense ; of sound and judicious modes of thinking ; a ministry that shall be patient, equable, persevering, and that shall look for success rather in the proper results of patient toil, than in new experiments, and new modes of doing things. Against real improvements, and plans that shall really save labor, or that shall be a wise adaptation of skill to save labor, no good man can utter a word. Such plans are not to be rejected merely because they appear to be innova^ tions, nor is anything to be set down as certainly wrong because it is new. If a doctrine or measure be true and wise, no minister of the gospel should be found in opposition to it. Bat the idea which I wish to convey, is, that the ministers of the gospel should not expect to accomplish their objects by anything which con^ templates success as the mere result of new and untried experi- OF THE AUTHOR. Ixi ments, or anything which shall be originated to avoid severe, and patient, and protracted toil. Success should not be expected from that which is adapted merely to startle, shock, surprise, confound, or perplex. Success should not be looked for as the result of scheming, of dark plans, of unusual modes of thought, of para- doxes in theology, or in an affected originality. The men who enter the ministry should be men who will be willing to labor patiently as long as may be necessary to accomplish an object ; to tread on if necessary, in a path which has been trodden by thousands before ; and at the close of life to look back upon re- sults gained by patient toil rather than on the results of fitful efforts, however brilliant, or whicii have only served to startle and amaze mankind. Need I state reasons why the age de- mands such a ministry ? Not so much for the purpose of stating reasons as for illustrating what I mean, I would refer to the fol- lowing summary of points which I have not room to illustrate at length. (1.) The people of our nation, and our ancestors in our father-land, have hitherto been distinguished among other nations for this : for what is sensible and solid rather than for what is brilliant ; for the useful rather than the visionary ; for patient toil rather than for mere experiment; for what Mr. Locke calls " large, sound, round-about sense ;" a trait of charac- ter which has given us some advantages, at least, over the vola- tile Frenchman, the dull and dark Spaniard, the effeminate Ita- lian, and the visionary and contemplative German: and it is desirable that the ministry should do something^ at least, to maintain this trait in the national character. (2.) The age in which we live is 'becoming visionary, and wild, and headlong in its propensities. Bubbles swell and burst on every side ; fancied cities of extreme beauty and eminent commercial advantages, on 'pa'pe)\ rise on every hill, and in every vale, and beside every water-fall and stream, and fall, and are succeeded by others as rapidly as if they were some splendid moving pageant ; fortunes are made and lost as if men were playing marbles, or as if the business of life Imd become the sports of children. (3.) There is a tendency to crowd these things into religion, and to pursue the work of religion, and the business of saving souls, by plans as wild as those by which men seek gain. Novel theories are broached ; novel plans formed ; associations are entered into for Ixii LIFE AND TIMES 'mpracticable purposes ; and opinions are started anew and advo- cated, which experience has shown to have been wild, and false, and dangerous centuries ago. Soon many of those plans are abandoned — as the paper cities disappear from the map of the nation ; or the vain speculator in theology gains as much wisdom and knowledge as the speculator in lands and town lots does gold ; and time is wasted for " that which is not bread, and labor for that wdiich satisfieth not." (4.) From such bubbles, and from mere experiments, the min- istry should stand aloof. These games, if they must be played, should be played by the world. By example, and by precept, by a patient, sober, practical life, as well as by preaching, the min- isters of the gospel are to recall men to the soberness of truth. A preacher has no time to lose in mere experiments; none to squander in idle speculations. The average length of time in the ministry in this country is probably not twenty years ; and all that tune may be filled up in a course of undoubted wisdom, and a warfare with evil, where not one blow shall be struck on the empty air. (5.) Again. The age in which we live is becoming distinguished .not merely for pursuits of things of little or no promise or utility, but for putting things of real value out of their places ; or for the disproportionate location of things of real worth. There are mul- titudes of men who become eminent, not for pursuing an object of no importance, but for pursuing it in a manner which requires everything else to give place to it. Some one favorite project is held so near to the eye, that nothing else is seen ; and they are distinguished for what is known in a homely, but expressive phrase, for riding hobbies. With one, temperance is everything ; with another, the tract cause ; with another, the Bible cause; with another, the cause of moral reform; with another, the rights of the slave ; and so on through all the catalogue of the plans of be- nevolence, wise and unwise. With one, the age goes too fast ; and the great design of the ministry is to " stand still and hold back ;" and with another, the ago goes to slow ; and the object of the ministry is, Jehu-like, to spur on its sluggish movements. Many or most of these things are seen and admitted to be important ; and they who do not see them as their advocates do, are de- nounced as accessories to the evils to bo remedied, or as time- servers. All the interests of the church and the state ; of Chris- OF THE AUTHOR. Ixill tian and heathen lands, are made to turn on the success of the one project ; and he who does not see it as the zealous advocate does, is held up as recreant to his master. Now, however natu- ral this amiable propensity may be to men who have but one cause to advocate, yet it is not the feeling which is to be culti- vated by the ministry of the gospel. The pastor, the great guar- dian, under God, of the dearest interests of benevolence, of social order, and of the rights of man, is to look out with a well- balanced mind, and a clear and calm eye, upon all the interests of benevolence. He is to endeavor to look upon things in their just proportions. He is to look abroad upon the w^orld. Tem- perance is not everything ; nor is the cause of foreign missions, or domestic missions, or tracts, or human liberty everything. They are parts of one great whole; the plans for these and kin- dred objects are bright and beautiful portions in the great pic- ture of benevolence. To the pastoral office we look that these objects should be held up in their proper proportions ; and the moment when the pastor loses the proper balance of his mind, and begins to ride " a. hobby," that moment his usefulness begins to wane. (6.) One other thought under this head. The age demands a ministry distinguished for sober industry. There is enough to accomplish to demand all the time, audit cannot be accomplished by mere genius, or by fitful efforts. It must be by patient toil. An industrious man, no matter what his talents, will always make himself respectable ; an indolent man, no matter what his genius, never can be. In the ministry, pre-eminently, no man should presume on his genius, or talents, or superiority to the mass of minds around him. A man owes his best efforts to his people, and to his master ; to the one by a solemn compact when he becomes their pastor, to the other by sacred covenant when deeply feeling the guilt of sin and the grateful sense of pardon, he gave himself to the great Redeemer in the ministry of recon- ciliation. An idle man in the ministry is a violator of at least two sacred compacts ; and upon such a man God will not, does not smile. IV. The times demand men in the ministry who shall be the warm and unflinching advocates of every good cause. Ixiv LIFK AND TIMES (1.) Men are required who shall have so well-settled and in- telligent views of trutli as not to be afraid of the examination of any opinion, or afraid to defend any sentiment which is in ac- cordance with the word of God. They shonld be men of such independence of mind, that they will examine every subject, and every opinion that may be submitted to them, or on which they may be called to act. The times are not theoretically against free discussion and the independent maintenance of one's own opinions. The character of the age will not tolerate that. But the secret aim is, to screen 2^ few points from examination. It is so to present the authority of past times and of great names, as to secure certain points from examination. Now the pulpit is to be one place — if the last in the world — of free and independent examination of all tlie opinions which can affect the destiny or the duty of man. Should the right of free examination and of free discussion be driven from the capitol ; should the conductors of the press cower before the outbreakings of popular violence ; should men in all other places succeed in isolating certain sub- jects as points which are never to be examined ; yet the pulpit is to remain as the last place to w^hich liberty is to take its flight, and in the sanctuary men are to breathe freely, and to be allowed to speak their emotions with no one to make them afraid. Our fathers, in this commonwealth, worshipped God with arms in their hands, to guard themselves from the attacks of savage barbarians. Not with sucli arms, we trust, are we to defend the right of free discussion ; but such a wilderness is again to be sought — if there remains such an one on the earth — and such perils again encountered, before the sons of the pilgrims shall yield the right of the free expression of their sentiments in the pulpit, on all the great questions that affect the welfare of man. The man of God is to enter that sacred place with his Bible as his guide, and is to be unawed in its exposition by any great names ; by any fear of personal violence ; by any decrees of councils ; or by any law^s which this world can ever promul- gate to fetter the freedom of thought. There, at least, is to be one place where truth may be examined, and where the voice of God may be heard in our world ; and there, as long as he who holds the stars in his right hand shall continue life, is the truth to shine forth on a dark world. OF THE AUTHOR. IxV 2. Men are required in the ministry who shall be the warm and decided friends of tlie tenipei-ance reformation ; and whose opinions and practice on this subject shall be shaped by the strict- est laws of morals. For this opinion, the reasons are plain. The temperance reform is one of the features of the age. Revolutions do not go backward ; and this cause is destined, it is believed, to triumph, and ultimately to settle down on the principles of the most strict morals. It was a sage remark of Jefferson, that no good cause is undertaken and persevered in, which does not ulti- mately overcome every obstacle and secure a final triumph ; and if anything certain respecting the future can be argued from the past, it is that this cause will secure an ultimate victory. The people will carry it forward, whatever may be the feelings of the ministers of the gospel. Now, it is not only the duty of the min- isters of religion to be foremost in " every good word and work," but it is a fact that they may soon be left far in the rear in this cause, and a fact that such a position will materially impede their own work. A people zealous in the cause of temperance will not long sit under the ministrations of a man who indulges in intoxicating drinks ; nor can he, by any eloquence in preach- ing, counteract the efiect which this single fact will have on their minds. Besides, the ministry has already sutFered enough from intemperance. Not a few men in this land, of the brightest talent that was ever adapted to adorn the pulpit, have fallen a sacrifice to this destroyer ; and they have left their names to be mentioned hereafter with pity and dishonor. (3.) In like manner, the times demand a ministry that shall be the unflinching advocates of revivals of religion. Such men lived in other times ; and such scenes blessed the land where Davis, and Edwards, and Whitfield, and the Tennents lived. What is needed now is the ministry of men who have an intelli- gent faith in revivals; who have. no fear of the effects which truth, under the direction of the Holy Spirit, shall have on the mind ; who shall so far understand the philosophy of revivals as to be able to vindicate them when assailed, and to show to men of intelligence that they are in accordance with the laws of our nature ; and whose preaching shall be such as shall be fitted, under the direction of the Holy Spirit, to secure such results on the minds of men. To revivals of religion our country owes Ixvi LIFE AND TIMES more tban all other moral causes put together ; and if our in- stitutions are preserved in safety, it must be by such extraordi- nary manifestations of the presence and the power of God. Our sons forsake the homes of their fathers ; they wander away from the place of schools and churches to the wilderness of the west ; they go from the sound of the Sabbath-bell, and they forget the Sabbath and the Bible, and the place of prayer ; they leave the places where thhir fathers sleep in their graves, and they forget the religion which sustained and comforted them. They go for gold, and they wander over the prairie, they fell the forest, they ascend the stream in pursuit of it, and they trample down the law of the Sabbath ; and soon, too, forget the laws of honesty and fair-dealing, in the insatiable love of gain. Meantime, every man, such is our freedom, may advance any sentiments he pleases. He may defend them by all the power of argument, and enforce them by all the eloquence of persuasion. He may clothe his corrupt sentiments in the charms of verse, and he may make a thousand cottages beyond the mountains re-echo with the cor- rupt and the corrupting strain. He may call to his aid the power o-f the press, and may secure a lodgment for his infidel senti- ments in the most distant habitation in the republic. What can meet this state of things, and arrest the evils that spread with the fleetness of the courser or the wind? What can pursue and overtake these wanderers but revivals of religion — but that Spirit which, like the Avind, acts where it pleases? Yet they must be pursued. If our sons go thus, they are to be followed and reminded of the commands of God. None of them are to be suftered to go to any fertile vale or prairie in the west without the institutions of the gospel ; nor are they to be suffered to con- struct a hamlet, or to establish a village, or to build a city that shall be devoted to any other God than the God of their fathers. By all the self-denials of benevolence ; by all the power of ar- gument; by all the implored influences of the Holy Ghost, they are to be persuaded to plant there the rose of Sharon, and to make the wilderness and the solitary place to be glad, and the desert to bud and blossom as the rose. In such circumstances God HAS interposed ; and he has thus blessed our own land and times with signal revivals of religion. Our whole country thus far has been guarded and protected OF THE AUTHOR. Ixvii by the presence of the Spirit of God ; and " American revivals " have been the objects of the most intense interest among those in other lands who have sought to understand the secret of our prosperity. That man who enters the pulpit with a cold heart and a doubtful mind, in regard to such works of grace ; who looks with suspicion on the means which the Spirit of God has appointed and blessed for this object in past times ; and who co- incides with the enemies of revivals in denouncing them as fana- ticism, understands as little the history of his own country as he does the laws of the human mind and the Bible, and lacks the spirit which a man should have who stands in an American pulpit. (4.) Men are required who shall stand up as the firm advo- cates of missions, and of every proper project for the world's con- version. That great design of bringing this whole world, by the divine blessing, under the influence of Christian truth, is one of the strong features of the age ; and the hope and expectation of it has seized upon the churches with a tenacity which will not be relaxed. The plan is not the work of a moment, and has none of the marks of enthusiasm. There never was a plan of conquest that was so deliberately formed, or that enlisted so many hearts before. Schemes of victory to be gained by blood have usually been formed by some one master mind — some ambitious monarch or warrior, while the nation over which he ruled had no sympa- thy with the plan, and no agency in its formation ; or where the army was led on by the strength of military discipline alone. But this is not the origin of the plan for securing the conquest of this world for God. It is no plan of a leader simply ; it has been formed by the church at large — the mass of Christians who are prepared to go on with it Avhether the ministers of religion will or will not guide them. The church at large will bear with no patience opposition in the ministry to this great undertaking ; nor can a minister long hold his place in the confidence and affections of the church, whose heart is not in this work. He who does not enter on this work prepared to devote his talents and learn- ing, his heart and bodily powers to the advancement of this cause, has not the spirit of the age, and falls behind the times in which he lives. (5.) The times demand men in the ministry who shall be men Ixviii LIFE AND TIMES of peace. The period has arrived in the history of the world when there should be a full and fair illustration of the i)Ower of the gospel to produce a spirit of peace in the hearts of all the ambassadors of him who was the "Prince of Peace." The fond- ness for theological combat and ecclesiastical gladiatorship, has been one of the most remarkable characteristics pertaining to the character of the ministers of the gospel in past times, and one which it may be difficult to account for. In a portion of the ministry, to a melancholy extent, this has been a characteristic of the ministry of the present-times. Whatever may have been the causes, and whoever may have been to blame, it is certain that this spirit of contention and strife is one of the things which has been most apparent for a few past years ; and that the wea- pons of war are still kept furbished, and that the champions are not disposed to lay them aside. Having tried these weapons long enough, with only the advantage that accrues to an army in a dark night, when one part of the army draws the sAvord on another, there is now needed a ministry that shall follow after tlie things that make for peace ;" where there shall be mutual confidence and charity ; Avhere there shall be candor for one another's imperfections ; where there shall be toleration of opinions on points that do not affect the essentials of Christian doctrine ; and where there shall be harmony of view and action on the great work of saving the world. For twenty years, it may be remarked, particularly, the din of ecclesiastical strife has been heard again within the bounds of that Christian community of which Davies was a minister and a member ; and again, as in his time, that church has been rent in twain, and the noise of the strife has been heard afar. This strife has been long enough. Enough of that glory has been achieved, for one age, Avhich can be achieved by arraying brother against brother, and altar against altar; by skill in noisy polemics and in harsh denunciation ; by rending the church asunder, and by triumph where victory is always equal to defeat. We want now men of peace, and cha- rity, and love ; men who can bear and forbear, men who will not "make a brother an offender for a word ;' men who shall be more anxious to convert a pinner from the errors of his ways than to defend the " shibboleth " of party. Such men, too, the church will soon have. It requires now all the zeal and talent of the leaders in the strife to convince the mass of Christians that the OF THE AUTHOR. Ixix controversy is of any importance ; and even that slight sense of the importance of the points for which there is such a noise of contention, is fast dying away. It is an auspicious circumstance in these times, that there is sucli a demand for such works as those of President Davies, as to warrant tlieir repubh cation. The eftect of the study of such models on the ministry and on the churches, cannot but be auspicious to the cause of evangelical religion. It is one of the honors of our country, young tliough we are, that we do not lack for examples of the highest order of preaching ; and even now, when we look through a gi-eat library for the best models, we instinctively fix on some that have been produced on this side the ocean. The purest models of preaching are to be found un- doubtedly, in the discourses of the apostles and of the Great Preacher; but after leavijig those times, we shall find no land, probably, where there have been exhibited more correct speci- mens of pure classic style, of sober thought, of instructive dis- courses, of a{)penls adapted to rouse the concience of a sinner, or to warm the heart of a child of God, than have been furnished in our own land. Tiie xVmerican pulpit, imperfect as it is, is more elevated in its influence and power than that of any other nation ; and in no other couritry is its influence so justly appre- ciated or so deeply felt on the public mind. Much as we may reve<*e the memory of the past ; much as we may learn from tlie wisdom of other generations; and much as we may honor those who have been or are distinguished for eminent usefulness across the waters, yet if we wish to see the power of preaching exem- plified in the hearts of men, and to derive instruction from the lives and success of those of other times, we cannot find a more appropiate place than to sit down at the feet of such men as Davies, and Edwards, and the Tennents, and Strong, and Pay- son, and Dwight, and Griffin, and Bedell. It will be an honor to tread in the footsteps of such men ; it is an indication of a health- ful tone in the public sentiment, and of holy aspirings in the candidates for the holy office, Avhen the works of these men shall be demanded from the press ; it is an indication of good when the times require the republication of such discourses as are here given again to the public — the warm, glowing, fervent, eloquent sermons of the nmch lamented President of Nassau Hall. SERMONS ON IMPORTANT SUBJECTS. SERMON I THE DIVINii AUTHCEITY AND SUFFICIENCY OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. Luke xvi. 27 — 31. Then he said, I pray thee therefore^ father^ that thou wouldest send him 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 prophets ; let them hear them. And he said, J^ay, father Abraham^ but if one went unto them from the dead they would re- pent. And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead. What Mieah said superstitiously, when he was rob- bed of his idols, Ye have taken away my gods ; and what have I more 1 (Judg. xviii. 24) may be truly spoken with regard to the religion of Jesus. If that be taken from us, what have we more 1 If the fowidations be destroyed^ what shall the righteous do ? Ps. xi. 3. The generality of you owe all your hopes of a glorious immortality to this heaven-born religion, and you make it the rule of your faith and practice ; confident that in so doing you please God. But what if after all you should be mistaken 1 What if the religion of Jesus should be an imposture 1 — I know you are struck with horror at the thought, and perhaps, alarmed at my making so shocking a supposition. But Tt THE DIVIi\E AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY this suspicion, horrid as it is, has probably been sug- gested to you at times by infernal agency : this suspi- cion may at times have arisen in your minds in their wanton and licentious excursions, or from the false alarms of a melancholy and timorous imagination : and if this suspicion has never been raised in you by the so- phistioal conversation of loose wits and affected ration- alists, it has been OAving to your happy retirement from the polite world, where infidelity makes extensive con- quests, under the specious name of deism. Since there- fore you are subject to an assault from such a suspicion, when you may not be armed ready to repel it, let me this day start it from its ambush, that I may try the force of a few arguments upon it, and furnish you with weapons to conquer it. Let me also tell you, that that faith in the Christian religion which proceeds from insufficient or bad princi- ples, is but little better than infidelity. If you believe the Christian religion to be divine, because you hardly care whether it be true or false, being utterly uncon- cerned about religion in any shape, and therefore never examining the matter ; if you believe it true, because you have been educated in it ; because your parents or ministers have told you so ; or because it is the religion or your country ; if these are the only grounds of your faith, it is not such a faith as constitutes you true Christians ; for upon the very same grounds you would have been Mahometans in Turkey, disciples of Confu- cius in China, or worshipers of the Devil among the Indians, if it had been your unhappy lot to be born in those countries ; for a Mahometan, or a Chinese, or an Indian, can assign these grounds for his faith. Surely, I need not tell you, that the grounds of a mistaken be- lief in an imposture, are not a sufficient foundation for a saving faith in divine revelation. I am afraid there are many such implicit believers among us, who are in the right only by chance : and these lie a prey to every temptation, and may be turned out of the way of truth by every wind of doctrine. It is therefore necessary to teach them the grounds of the Christian religion, both to prevent their seduction, and to give them a rational and well-grounded faith, instead of that which is only blind and accidental. OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 3 Nay, such of us «is have the clearest conviction of this important truth, had need to have it inculcated upon us, that we may be more and more impressed with it ; for the influence of Christianity u^on our hearts and lives will be proportioned to the realizing, affecting persua- sion of its truth and certainty in our understandings. If I can prove that Christianity answers all the ends of a religion from God ; if I can prove that it is attended with sufficient attestations ; if 1 can prove that no suffi cient objections can be offered against it ; and that men have no reason at all to desire another ; but that if this proves ineffectual for their reformation and salvation, there is no ground to hope that any other would prove successful ; I say, if I can prove these things, then the point in debate is carried, and we must all embrace the religion of Jesus as certainly true. These things are asserted or implied in my text, with respect to the scriptures then extant, Moses and the prophets. My text is a parabolical dialogue between Abraham and one of his wretched posterity, once rioting in the luxuries of high life, but now tormented in infernal flames. We read of his brethren in his father's house. Among these probably his estate was divided upon his decease ; from whence we may infer that he had no children : for had he had any, it would have been more natural to re- present him as solicitous for their reformation by a mes- senger from the dead, than for that of his brothers. He seems, therefore, like some of our unhappy modern rakes, just to have come to his estate, and to have aban- doned himself to such a course of debaucheries as soon shattered his constitution, and brought him do\vn to the grave, and alas ! to hell, in the bloom of life, when they were far from his, thoughts. May this be a warning to all of his age and circumstances ! Whether, from some remaining affection to his bre thren, or (which is more likely) from a fear that the^ who had shared with him in sin would increase his tor- ment, should they descend to him in the infernal prison, he is solicitous that Lazarus might be sent as an apostle from the dead to warn them. His petition is to this pur- pose : " Since no request in my own favor can be grant ed J since I cannot obtain the poor favor of a drop of * THE DIVINE AUTHORITY ANC SUFFlCltl-'JLY water to cool my flaming tongue, let me at least make one request in behalf of those that are as yet in the land of hope, and not beyond the reach of mercy. In my fa- ther's house I have five brethren, gay, thoughtless, young creatures, who are now rioting in those riches I was forced to leave ; who interred my mouldering corpse in state, little apprehensive of the doom of my immortal part ; who are now treading the same enchanting paths of pleasure I walked in : and will, unless reclaimed, soon descend, like me, thoughtless and unprepared, into these doleful regions : I therefore pray, that thou wouldest send Lazarus to alarm them in their wild career, with an account of my dreadful doom, and inform them of the reality and importance of everlasting happiness and mis- ery, that they may reform, and so avoid this place of torment, whence I can never escape." Abraham's answer may be thus paraphrased : " If thy brothers perish, it will not be for Avant of means 5 they enjoy the sacred scriptures of the Old Testament, writ- ten by Moses and the prophets ; and these are sufficient to inform them of the necessary truths to regulate their practice, and particularly to warn them of everlasting punishment ! Let them therefore hear and regard, study and obey, those writings ; for they need no further means for their salvation." To this the wretched creature replies, " Nay, father Abraham, these means will not avail ; I enjoyed them all ; and yet here I am, a lost soul ; and I am afraid they will have as little effect upon them as they had upon me. These means are common and familiar, and therefore disregarded. But if one arose from the dead, if an apostle from the invisible world was sent to them, to de- clare as an eye-witness the great things he has seen, surely they would repent. The nov^elty and terror of the apparition would alarm them. Their senses would be struck with so unusual a messenger, and they would be convinced of the reality of eternal things ; therefore I must renew my request ; send Lazarus to them in all the pomp of heavenly splendor ; Lazarus whom they once knew in so abject a condition, and whom they will therefore the more regard, when they see him appear m all his present glory." Thus the miserable creature pleads, (and it is natural OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. D for us to wish for other means, when those we have en- joyed are ineffectual, though it should be through our own neglect ;) but, alas ! he pleads in vain. Abraham continues inexorable, and gives a very good reason for his denial : " If they pay no regard to the vvritings of Moses atid the prophets^ the standing revela- tion God has left in his church, it would be to no pur- pose to give them another : they would not be persuaded though one rose from the dead ; the same disposition that renders them deaf to such messengers as Moses and the prophets^ would also render them impersuasible by a messenger from the dead. Such an one might strike them with a panic, but it would soon be over, and then they V ould return to their usual round of pleasures ; they would presently think the apparition was but the creature of their own imagination, or some unaccount- able illusion of their senses. If one arose from the dead, he could but declare the same things substantially with Moses and the prophets ; and he could not speak with greater authority, or give better credentials than they ; and therefore they who are not benefited by these standing means must be given up as desperate ; and God, for very good reasons, will not multiply new reve- lations to them." This answer of Abraham was exemplified when ano- ther Lazarus was raised from the dead in the very sight of the Jews, and Christ burst the bands of death, and gave them incontestible evidences of his resurrection ; and yet after all they were not persuaded, but persisted in invincible infidelity. This parable was spoken before any part of the Ncav Testament was written, and added to the sacred canon ; and if it might be then asserted, that the standing reve- lation of God's will v/as sufficient, and that it was need- less to demand farther, then much more may it be as- serted novv', when the canon of the scriptures is com- pleted, and we have received so much additional light from the New Testament. We have not only Moses and the prophets^ but we have also Christ, who is a messenger from the dead, and his apostles ; and therefore, surely, " if we do not hear them, neither would we be per- suaded, though one arose from the dead." The gospel is the last effort of the grace of God with a guilty b THE DIVIISE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIE^C"y world ; and if this has no effect upon us, our disease is incurable that refuses to be healed. I cannot insist upon all the important truths contained in this copious text, but only design, I. To show the sufficiency of the standing revelation of God's will in the scriptures, to bring men to repent ance ; and, II. To expose the vanity and unreasonableness of the objections against this revelation, and of demanding an- other. I. I am to show the sufficiency of the standing rcA'ela- tion in the scriptures to bring men to repentance. If the scriptures give us sufficient instructions in mat- ters of faith, and sufficient directions in matters of prac- tice, if they are attended w^ith sufficient evidences for our faith, and produce sufficient excitements to influence our practice, then they contain a sufficient revelation ; for it is for these purposes Ave need a revelation, and a revelation that answers these purposes has the directest tendency to make us truly religious, and bring us to a happy immortality. But that the revelation in the scrip- tures, (particularly in the New Testament, which I shall more immediately consider as being the immediate foundation of Christianity) is sufficient for all these pur- poses, will be evident from an induction of particulars. 1. The scriptures give us sufficient instructions what we should believe, or are a sufficient rule of faith. Religion cannot subsist without right notions of God and divine things ; and entire ignorance or mistakes in its fundamental articles must be destructive of its nature ; and therefore a divine revelation must be a collection of rays of light, a system of divine knowledge ; and suck we find the Christian revelation to be, as contained in the sacred writings. In the scriptures we find the faint discoveries of natu- ral reason illustrated, its uncertain conjectures deter- mined, and its mistakes corrected ; so that Christianity includes natural religion in the greatest perfection. But it does not rest here ; it brings to light things which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither the heart of man con- ceived, 1 Cor. ii. 9 — things, which our feeble reason could never have discovered without the help of a su OF THE CHRISTIAN IlELIGION. 7 pernatural revelation ; and which yet are of the utmost importance for us to know. In the scriptures we have the clearest and most ma- jestic account of the nature and perfections of the Deity, and of his being the Creator, Ruler, and Benefactor of the universe ; to whom therefore all reasonable beings are under infinite obligations. In the scriptures we have an account of the present state of human nature, as degenerate, and a more ration- al and easy account of its apostacy, than could ever be given by the light of nature. In the scriptures too (which wound but to cure) we have the welcome account of a method of recovery from the ruins of our apostacy, through the mediation of the Son of God ; there we have the assurance, which we could find no where else, that God is reconcilable, and willing to pardon penitents upon the account of the obe- dience and sufferings of Christ. There all our anxious inquiries, Wherewith shall I come before the Lord ; or how myself before the most high God ? shall I come before him with burnt-offerings ? &c. Micah. vi. 6, 7, are satisfactorily answered ; and there the agonizing conscience can ob- tain relief, which might have sought it in vain among all the other religions in the world. In the scriptures also, eternity and the invisible worlds are laid open to our view ; and " life and immortality are brought to light by the gospel ;" about which the hea- then sages, after all their inquiries, labored under uneasy suspicions. There we are assured of the state of fu- ture rewards and punishments, according to our conduct in this state of probation ; and the nature, perfection, and duration of the happiness and misery, are described with as much accuracy as are necessary to engage us to seek the one and shun the other. I particularize these doctrines of Christianity as a sp*? cimen, or as so many general heads, to which many others may be reduced ; not intending a complete enu- meration, which would lead me far beyond the bounds of one sermon ; and for which my whole life is not suffi- cient. I therefore proceed to add, 2. The holy scriptures give us complete directions in matters of practice, or a sufficient rule of life, A divine revelation must not be calculated merely to S THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY amuse us, and gratify our curiosity with sublime and re- fined notions and speculations, but adapted to direct and regulate our practice, and render us better as well as wiser. Accordingly, the sacred writings give us a complete system of practical religion and morality. There, not only all the duties of natural religion are inculcated, but several important duties, as love to our enemies, humili- ty, &c. are clearly discovered, which the feeble light of reason in the heathen moralists did either not perceive at all, or but very faintly. In short, there we are in- formed of our duties towards God, towards our neigh- bors, and towards ourselves. The scriptures are full of particular injunctions and directions to particular duties, lest we should not be sagacious enough to infer them from general rules ; and sometimes all these duties are summed up in some short maxim, or general rule ', which we may easily remember, and ahvays carry about with us. Such a noble summary is that which Christ has given us of the whole moral law ; " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, occ. and thy neighbor as thyself." Or that all-comprehending rule of our con- duct towards one another, " Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye the same unto them." What recommends these doctrinal instructions and practical directions is, that they are plain and obvious to common sense. It is as much the concern of the illite- rate and vulgar to be religious, as of the few endowed Aviih an exalted and philosophic genius ; and consequent- ly, whatever difficulties may be in a revelation to exer- cise the latter, yet all necessary matters of faith and practice must be delivered in a plain manner, level to the capacities of the former ; otherwise it would be no reve- lation at all to them who stand in most need of it. Ac- cordingly the religion of Jesus, though it has mysteries equal and infinitely superior to the largest capacity, yet in its necessary articles is intelligible to all ranks who apply themselves with proper diligence to the perusal of them ; and I dare affirm, that a man of common sense, with the assistance of the sacred scriptures, can form a better system of religion and morality than the wisest philosopher, with all his abilities and learning, can form without this help. This I dare affirm, because it has been OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 9 put to trial, and attested by matter of fact ; for whoever is acquainted viith the writings of the ancient heathen philosophers, cannot but be convinced, that amidst all their learning and study, amidst all their shining thoughts and refined speculations, they had not such just notions of God and his perfections, of the most acceptable way of worshiping him, of the duties of morality, and of a future state, as any common Christian among us has learned from the Scriptures, without any uncommon natural parts, without extensive learning, and without such painful study and close application as the heathen moralists were forced to use to make their less perfect discoveries. In this sense the least in the kingdom of heaven, i. e. any common Christian, is greater than all the Socrates, the Platos, the Ciceros, and the Senecas of antiquity ; as onet hat is of a weak sight can see more clearly by the help of day-light, than the clearest eye can without it. And by whom was this vast treasure of knowledge laiu up to enrich the Vv'orld ^. by whom were these matchless writings composed, which furnish us with a system of re- ligion and morality so much more plain, so much more perfect, than all the famous sages of antiquity could frame 1 Why, to our astonishment, they were composed by a company of fishermen, or persons not much supe- rior ; by persons generally without any liberal education ; persons who had not devoted their lives to intellectual improvement ; persons of no extraordinary natural parts, and who had not traveled, like the ancient philosophers, to gather up fragments of knowledge in different countries, but who lived in Judea, a country where learning was but little cultivated, in comparison of Greece and Rome. These were the most accomplished teachers of mankind that ever appeared in the world. And can this be ac- counted for, without acknowledging their inspiration from heaven 1 If human reason could have made such discoveries, surely it would have made them by those in whom it was improved to the greatest perfection, and not by a company of ignorant mechanics. The persons themselves declare that they had not made these discoveries, but were taught them immedi- ately from heaven, (which indeed we must have believed, though they had not told us so.) Now we must believe 10 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY their declaration, and own them inspired, or fall into this absurdity. That a company of illiterate, wicked, and dar- ing- impostors, who were hardy enough to pretend them- selves commissioned and inspired from God, have fur- nished us with an incomparably more excellent system of religion and virtue, than could be furnished by all the wisest and best of the sons of men beside ; and he that can believe this may believe anything ; and should never more pretend that he cannot believe the Christian reli- gion upon the account of the difficulties that attend it. I have touched but superficially upon the sufficiency of the scriptures as a rule of faith and practice ; for to dwell long upon this, would be to fight without an anta- gonist. Our infidels reject the Christian religion, be- cause they suppose it requires them to believe and prac- tise too much, rather than too little. Hence they are for lopping off a great part of its doctrines and precepts, as superfluities, or incumbrances, and forming a meagre skeleton of natural religion. Their intellectual pride will not stoop to believe doctrines which they cannot com- prehend ; and they cannot bear such narrow bounds as the precepts of Christianity fixes for them in their pur- suits of pleasure, and therefore they would break these bands asunder. That which they affect most to complain of, is the want of evidence to convince them of the truth of this ungrateful religion ; it will therefore be necessary to prove more largely, that, 3. The scriptures are attended with sufficient eviden- ces of their truth and divinity. It is certain that as God can accept no other worship than rational from reasonable creatures, he cannot re- quire us to believe a revelation to be divine withoutsuf- ficient reason ; and therefore, when he gives us a reve- lation, he will attest it with such evidences as will be a sufficient foundation of our belief. Accordingly the scriptures are attested withall the evidences intrinsic and extrinsic, which we can reasona- bly desire, and with all the evidences the nature of the thing will admit. As for intrinsic evidences, many might be mentioned ; but I must at present confine myself in proper limits. I shall resume the one I have already hinted at, namely, that the religion of the Bible has the directest tendency OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 11 to promote true piety and solid virtue in the world ; it is such a religion as becomes a God to reveal ; such a religion as we might expect from him, in case he insti- tuted any ; a religion intended and adapted to regulate self-love, and to diffuse the love of God and man through the world, the only generous principles and vigorous springs of a suitable conduct towards God, towards one another, and towards ourselves 5 a religion productive of every humane, social, and divine virtue, and directly calculated to banish all sin out of the world ; to trans- form impiety into devotion ; in justice and oppression into equity and universal benevolence ; and sensuality into sobriety : a religion infinitely preferable to any that has been contrived by the wisest and best of mortals. And whence do you think could this god-like religion proceed \ Does not its nature prove its origin divine 1 Does it not evidently bear the lineaments of its heavenly Parent 1 Can you once imagine that such a pure, such a holy, such a perfect system, could be the contrivance of wicked, infernal spirits, of selfish, artful priests, or po- liticians, or of a parcel of daring impostors, or wild en- thusiasts 1 Could these contrive a religion so contrary to their inclination, so destructive of their interest, and so directly conducing to promote the cause they abhor 1 [f you can believe this, you may also believe that light is the product of darkness, virtue of vice, good of evil, &c. If such beings as these had contrived a religion, it would have borne the same appearance in the Bible as it does in Italy or Spain, where it is degenerated into a mere trade for the benefit of tyrannical and voracious priests ; or it would have been such a religion as that of Mahomet, alloAving its subjects to propagate it with the sword, that they might enrich themselves with the plun- der of conquered nations ; and indulging them in the gra- tification of their lusts, particularly in polygamy, or the unbounded enjoyment of women. This religion, I fear, would suit the taste of our licentious free-thinkers much better than the holy religion of Jesus. Or if we should suppose Christianity to be the contrivance of visionary enthusiasts, then it would not be that rational system which it is, but a huddle of fanatical reveries and ridicu lous whims. If, then, it could not be the contrivance of such authors as these, to whom shall we ascribe it 1 It 12 THE DIVINE AUTHOEITY A'ST) SUPPICiEMCV must have had some author ; for it could not come into being without a cause, no more than the system of the universe. Will you then ascribe it to good men 1 But these men were either inspired from heaven, or they were not ; if they were not, then they could not be good men, but most audacious liars : for they plainly declar- ed, they were divinely inspired, and stood in it to the last ; which no good man would do if such a declaration was false. If they were inspired from heaven, then the point is gained ; then Christianity is a religion from God ; for to receive a religion from persons divinely in- spired, and to receive it from God, is the same thing. Another intrinsic evidence is that of prophecy. Those future events which are contingent, or wdiich shall be accomplished by causes that do not now exist or appear, cannot be certainly foreknown or foretold by man, as we find by our oa\ti experience. Such objects fall within the compass of Omniscience only ; and there- fore when short-sighted mortals are enabled to predict such events many years, and even ages before they hap- pen, it is a certain evidence that they are let into the secrets of heaven, and that God communicates to them a knowledge which cannot be acquired by the most sa- gacious human mind ; and this is an evidence that the persons thus divinely taught are the messengers of God, to declare his will to the world. Now there are numberless instances of such prophe- cies in the sacred v/ritings. Tiuis a prophet foretold the destruction of Jeroboam's altar by the good Josiah, many ages before, 1 Kings xiii. 2. Cyrus was foretold by name as the restorer of the Jews from Babylon, to re- build their temple and city, about a hundred years be- fore he was born, Isaiah xlv. 1, &c. Several of the pro- phets foretold the destruction of various kingdoms in a very punctual manner, as of Jerusalem, Babylon, Egypt, Nineveh, &c. vv^hich prediction was exactly fulfilled. But the most remarkable prophecies of the Old Testament are those relating to the Messiah ; which are so nume- rous and full, that they might serve for materials for his history j they fix the time of his coming, viz. while the sceptre continued in Judah, Gen. xlix, 10, while the second temple was yet standing, Hag. ii, 7, Mai. iii. 2, and towards the close of Daniel's neventy weeks of years OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 13 i. e. four hundred and ninety years from the rebuilding of Jerusalem, Dan. ix. 24-, &c. These prophecies also describe the Uneage of the Messiali, the manner of his conception, his hfe and miracles, his death, and the va- rious circumstances of it ; his resurrection, ascension, and advancement to universal empire, and the spread of the gospel through the world. In the New Testament also we meet with sundry remarkable prophecies. There Christ foretels his own death, and the manner of it, and his triumphant resurrection ; there, with surprising ac- curacy, he predicts the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans. We find various prophecies also in the apos- tolic epistles, particularly that of St. Paul, Rom. xi., con- cerning the conversion of the Jews ; which, though it be not yet accomplished, yet we see a remarkable provi- dence making way for it, in keeping the Jews, v/ho are scattered over all the earth, distinct from all other na- tions for about one thousand seven hundred years, though they are hated of all nations, and consequently under the strongest temptation to coalesce with, and lose themselves among them ; and though all other nations have in a much shorter time mixed in such a manner, that none of them can now trace their o\vn original ; e. g. who can now distinguish the posterity of the ancient Romans from the Goths and Vandals, and others that broke in upon their empire and settled among them ; or of the ancient Angli from the Danes, &;c. that min- gled with them 1 These and many other plain predictions are interspers- ed through the Scriptures, and prove their original to be from the Father of lights, who alone knov/s all his works from the beginning, and who declares such distant con- t'jigent futurities from ancient times. Isaiah xlv. 21. I might, as another intrinsic evidence of the truth of Christianity, mention its glorious energy on the minds of men, in convincing them of sin, easing their con- sciences, inspiring them with unspeakable joy, subduing their lusts, and transforming them into its own likeness j which is attested by the daily experience of every true Christian. Every one that believeth hath this witness in himself : and this is an evidence level to the mjeanest capacity, which may be soon lost in the course of sub- Jime reasoning. But as the deists declare, alas ! with 2 l^ THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY ^00 much truth, that the gospel hath no such power upon ^hem, it is not to my purpose to insist upon it. I therefore proceed to mention some of the extrinsic evidences of the rehgion of Jesus, particularly the mira- «2ies with which it was confirmed, and its early propaga- tion through the world. Miracles of this case are events above or contrary to the established law of nature, done with a professed de- sign to attest a revelation ; and as they are obvious and striking to the senses of the most ignorant and unthink ing, they are the most popular and convictive evidences, adapted to the generality of mankind, who are incapable of a long train of argumentation, or of perceiving the origin of a religion from its nature and tendency. Now the religion of Jesus is abundantly attested with this kind of evidence. The history of the life of Jesus and his apostles is one continued series of miracles. Sight was restored to the blind, the deaf were enabled to hear, the lame to walk, the maimed furnished with new- created limbs, the sick healed, the rage of winds and seas controlled, yea, the dead were raised ; and all this with an air of sovereignty, such as became a God : the apostles were also endowed with miraculous powers, en- abled to speak with tongues, and to communicate the Holy Spirit to others. These miracles were done not in a corner, but in the most public places, before numerous spectators, friends and foes : and the persons that ^vrought them appealed to them as the evidences of their divine mission : and the account of them is conveyed doAvn to us by the best medium, written tradition, in a history that bears all the evidences of credibility, of which any composition of that kind is capable. Another extrinsic evidence of the truth of Christianity is its extensive propagation through the world in the most unpromising circumstances. The only religion, besides the Christian, which has had any very considerable spread in the world, is that of Mahomet ; but we may easily account for this, with- out supposing it divine, from its nature, as indulging the lusts of men ; and especially from the manner of its pro- pagation, not by the force of evidence, but by the force of arms. But the circumstances of the propagation of Christianity were quite otherwise, whether we consider OF THE CHKISTIAN RELIGION 15 its contrariety to the corruptions, prejudices, and inter- ests of men ; the easiness of detecting it, had it been false ; the violent opposition it met with from all the powers of the earth ; the instruments of its propagation j or the measures they took for that purpose. Christianity is directly contrary to the corruptions, prejudices, and interests of mankind. It grants no in- dulgence to the corrupt propensities of a degenerate world 'y but requires that universal holiness of heart and life which, as we find by daily observation, is so ungrate- ful to them, and which is the principal reason that the religion of Jesus meets vjith so much contempt and op- position in every age. When Christianity was first propagated, all nations had been educated in some other religion ; the Jews were attached to Moses, and the Gentiles to their vari- ous systems of heathenism, and were all of them very zealous for their o\vn religion ; but Christianity proposed a new scheme, and could not take place without anti- quating or exploding all other religions ; and therefore it was contrary to the inveterate prejudices of all man- kind, and could never have been so generally received, if it had not brought with it the most evident creden- tials ; especially considering that some of its doctrines were such as seemed to the Jew^s a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness ; particularly that one of ob- scure birth and low life, w^ho was publicly executed as a slave and malefactor, should be worshiped and honored as God, upon pain of everlasting damnation ; and that there should be a resurrection of the dead : the last of w^hich was an object of ridicule to all the wits and philosophers of the heathen world. Again, as some religion or other was established in all nations, there were many, like De- metrius and his craftsmen, w^hose temporal livings and interest depended upon the continuance of their religion ; and if that was changed, they fell into poverty and dis- grace. There was a powerful party in every nation, and they w^ould exert themselves to prevent the spread of an innovation so dangerous toJ;heir interest, which we find by all histories of those times they actually did : — and yet the despised religion of Jesus triumphed over all their opposition, and maintained its credit in spite of all 16 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY their endeavors to detect it as an imposture ; and this proves it was not an imposture ; for, In the next place, it was easy to have detected Christi- anity as an imposture, nay, it was impossible it should not have been detected, if it had been such ; for the great facts upon which the evidence of it rested, were said to be obvioas and public, done before thousands and in all countries ; for wherever the apostles traveled they carried their miraculous powers along- with them. Thou- sands must know whether Christ had fed many thousands with provisions only sufficient for a few ; whether Laza- rus was raised from the dead before the admiring multi- tude, whether the apostles spoke with tongues to those various nations among whom they endeavored to propa- gate their religion, (as indeed they must have done, otherwise they would not have been understood.) These things, and many others, upon which the evidence of Christianity depends, were public in their own nature ; and therefore, if they had not been matters of fact, the cheat must have been unavoidably detected, especially when so many were concerned to detect it. Farther : Christianity met with the most strenuous opposition from all the powers of the earth. The Jew- ish rulers and most of the populace were implacable enemies ; and as they lived on the spot where its mira- culous attestations were said to be given, it Avas in their power to crush it in its birth, and never have suffered it to spread farther, had it not been attended with invinci- ble evidence. All the power of the Roman empire was also exerted for its extirpation ; and its propagators and disciples could expect no profit or pleasure by it, but were assured, from the posture of afTairs, from daily ex- perience, and from the predictions of their Master, that they should meet with shame, persecution, and death it- self, in its most tremendous shapes j and in the next world they could expect nothing, even according to their own doctrine, but everlasting damnation, if they were wilful impostors ; and yet, in spite of all these discour- agements, they courageousl;^ persisted in their testimo- ny to the last, though they might have secured their lives, and helped their fortune (as Judas did) by retrac- ing it ; nay, their testimony prevailed, in defiance of all opposition ; multitudes in all nations then known em* OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGIOJN^. 17 braced the faith ; though they expected tortures and death for it ; and in a few centuries, the vast and mighty- Roman empire submitted to the religion of a crucified Jesus. And who were those mighty heroes that thus triumphed over the world 1 Why, to our surprise, The instruments of the propagation of Christianity were a company of poor mechanics, publicans, tent- makers, and fishermen, from the despised nation of the Jews ! And by what strange powers or arts did they make these extensive conquests 1 The measures they took were a plain declaration of their religion ; and they wrought miracles for its con- firmation. They did not use the power of the sword, nor secular terrors, or bribery ; they were without learn- ing, Avithout the arts of reasoning and persuasion ; and without all the usual artifices of seducers to gain credit to their imposture. Here I cannot but take particular notice of that match- less simplicity that appears in the history of Christ and his apostles. The evangelists Avrite in that artless, calm, and unguarded manner, which is natural to persons con- fident of the undeniable truth of what they assert ; they do not write with that scrupulous caution which would argue any fear that they might be confuted. They sim- ply relate the naked facts, and leave them to stand upon their own evidence. They relate the most amazing, the most moving things, with the most cool serenity, \yith- out any passionate exclamations and warm reflections. For example, they relate the most astonishing miracles, as the resurrection of Lazarus, in the most simple, and, as it were, careless manner, without breaking out and celebrating the divine power of Christ. In the same manner they relate the most tragical circumstances of his condemnation and death, calmly mentioning matter of fact, without any invectives against the Jews, without any high eulogies upon Christ's innocence, without any apturous celebrations of his grace in suffering all these things for sinners, and without any tender lamentations over their deceased Master. It is impossible for a heart so deeply impressed with such things, as theirs undoubt- edly were, to retain this dispassionate serenity, unless laid under supernatural restraints ; and there appears very good reasons for this restraint upon them,^iz.j that 2* 18 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY the gospel liistory might carry intrinsic evidences of its simplicity and artless impartiality; and that it might appear adapted to convince the judgments of men, and not merely to raise their passions. In this respect, the gospel-history is distinguished from all histories in the world : and can we think so plain, so undisguised, so artless a composure, the contrivance of designing im- postors 1 Would not a consciousness that they might be detected keep them more upon their guard, and make them more ready to anticipate and confine objections, and take every artifice to recommend their cause, and prepossess the reader in its favor 1 It only remains under this head, that I should 4. Show that the religion of Jesus proposes suffi- cient excitements to mfluence our faith and practice. To enforce a system of doctrines and precepts, two things are especially necessary ; that they should be made duty by competent authority, and matters of inte- rest by a sanction of rewards and punishments. To which I may add, that the excitements are still stronger, when we are laid under the gentle obligations of grati- tude. In all these respects the Christian religion has the most powerful enforcements. The authority upon which we are required to receive the doctrines, and observe the precepts of Christianity, is no less than the authority of God, the supreme Law- giver and infallible Teacher ; whose wisdom to pre- scribe, and right to command, are indisputable ; and we may safely submit our understandings to his instruc- tions, however mysterious, and our wills to his injunc- tions, however difficult they may seem to us. This gives the religion of Jesus a binding authority upon the consciences of men ; which is absolutely necessary to bring piety and virtue into practice in the world ; for if men are left at liberty, they will follow their own incli nations, however wicked and pernicious. And in this respect, Christianity bears a glorious preference to all the systems of morality composed by the heathen philo- sophers ; for though there were many good things in them, yet who gave authority to Socrates, Plato, or Se neca, to assume the province of lawgivers, and dictators to mankind, and prescribe to their consciences 1 All they could do was to teach, to advise, to persuade, tc OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 19 reason ; but mankind were at liberty, after all, whether to take their advice or not. And this shows the neces- sity of supernatural revelation, not merely to make kno\\Ti things beyond human apprehension, but to en- force with proper authority such duties as might be dis- covered by man ; since without it they would not have the binding force of a law. As to the sanction of rewards and punishments in Christianity, they are such as became a God to annex to his majestic law, such as are agreeable to creatures formed for immortality, and such as Avould have the most effectual tendency to encourage obedience, and prevent sin ; they are no less than the most perfect hap- piness and misery, which human nature is capable of, and that through an endless duration. If these are not sufficient to allure rational creatures to obedience, then no considerations that can be proposed can have any effect. These tend to alarm our hopes and our fears, the most vigorous springs of human activity: and if these have no efTect upon us, nothing that God can re- veal, or our minds conceive, will have any effect. God, by adding the greatest sanctions possible to his law, has taken the best possible precautions to prevent disobe- dience ; and since even these do not restrain men from it, we are sure that less would not suffice. If men will go on in sin, though they believe the punishment due to it will be eternal, then much more would they persist in it, if it were not eternal ; or, if they say they will in- dulge themselves in sin, because they believe it not eternal, then this proves from their own mouth, that it should be eternal in order to restrain them. The pre- valence of sin in the world tends to render it miserable ; and therefore, to prevent it, as well as to display God's eternal regard to moral goodness, it is fit that he should annex the highest degree of punishment to disobedience in every individual ; for the indulgence of sin in one in- dividual would be a temptation to the whole rational creation j and, on the other hand, the threatenings of everlasting punishment to all sinners indefinitely, is ne- cessary to deter the whole rational world, and every particular person from disobedience. Thus in civil government, it is necessary that robbery should be threatened indefinitely with death, because, though one .20 THE DIVINE AUTHOKITY AND SUFFICIENCY robber may take from a man but what he can very well spare ; yet, if every man might rob and plunder his neighbor, the consequence would be universal robbery and confusion. It is therefore necessary that the great- est punishment should be threatened to disobedience, both to prevent it, and to testify the divine displeasure against it ; which is the primary design of the threaten- ing ; and since the penalty was annexed with this view, it follows, that it was primarily enacted with a view to the happiness of mankind, by preventing what would naturally make them miserable, and but secondarily with a view to be executed ; for it is to be executed only upon condition of disobedience ; which disobedience it w^as intended to prevent, and consequently it was not immediately intended to be executed, or enacted for the Rake of the execution, as though God took a malignant pleasure in the misery of his creatures. But when the penalty has failed of its primary end, restraining from sin, then it is fit it should answer its secondary end, and be executed upon the offender, to keep the rest of rea- sonable creatures in their obedience, to illustrate the ve racity and holiness of the lawgiver, and prevent his gov ernment from falling into contempt. There are the same reasons that threatenings should be executed when de- nounced, as for their being denounced at first 5 for threatenings never executed, are the same with no threatenings at all. Let me add, that the gospel lays us under the strongest obligations from gratitude. It not only clearly informs us of our obligations to God, as the author of our being, and all our temporal blessings, which natural religion more faintly discovers, but superadds those more endear- ing ones derived from the scheme of man's redemption through the death of the eternal Son of God. Though the blessings of creation and providence are great in themselves, they are swallowed up, as it were, and lost ill the love of God ; which is commended to us by this matchless circumstance, " that while we were yet sin ners, Christ died for us ;" and while under the con- straints of this love, we cannot but devote ourselves en tirely to God, 2 Cor. v. 14, 15. Thus I have hinted at a few things among the many that might be mentioned to prove the divinity of the re- OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 21 ligion of Jesus, and its sufficiency to bring men to re- pentance and salvation. And if it be so, why should it be rejected, or another sought 1 This reminds me that I promised, II. To expose the vanity and unreasonableness of the objection against the Christian religion, or of demanding another, &c. What can our ingenious infidels ofTer against what has been said 1 It must be something very weighty indeed to preponderate all this evidence. A laugh, or a sneer, a pert witticism, declaiming against priestcraft and the prejudices of education, artful evasions, and shallow so- phisms, the usual arguments of our pretended free- thinkers, these will not suffice to banter us out of our joyful confidence of the divinity of the religion of Je- sus ; and I may add, these will not suffice to indemnify them. Nothing will be suflicient for this but demonstra- tion : it lies upon them to prove the Christian religion to be certainly false : otherwise, unless they are hardened to a prodigy, they must be racked with anxious fears lest they should find it true to their cost ; and lest that dis- mal threatening should stand firm against them : " He that believefh not^ shall be damned.'''' What mighty objec- tions, then, have they to offer \ Will they say that the Christian religion contains mysterious doctrines, which they cannot comprehend, which seem to them unac- countable 1 As that of the trinity, the incarnation, and satisfaction of Christ, &c. But will they advance their understanding to be the universal standard of truth 1 Will they pretend to comprehend the infinite God, in their finite minds 1 then let them- go, and measure the heavens with a span, and comprehend the ocean in the hollow of their hand. Will they pretend to understand the divine nature, when they cannot understand their o^\^l 1 when they cannot account for or explain the union betwixt their own souls and bodies % Will they reject mysteries in Christianity, when they must own them in every thing else 1 Let them first solve all the phenomena in nature ; let them give us a rational theory of the in- finite divisibility of a piece of finite matter ; let them ac- count for the seemingly magical operation of the load- stone ; the circulation of the blood upwards as well as downwards, contrary to all the laws of motion ; let them 22 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY inform us of the causes of the cohesion of the particles of matter ; let them tell us, how spirits can receive ideas from material organs ; how they hear and see, &c. : let them give us intelligible theories of these things, and then they may, with something of a better grace, set up for critics upon God and his ways 5 but, while they are mysteries to themselves, while every particle of matter bajflles their understandings, it is the most impious in- tellectual pride to reject Christianity upon the account of its mysteries, and set up themselves as the supreme judges of truth. Or will they object that there are a great many diffi- cult and strange passages in scripture, the meaning and propriety of which they do not see 1 And are there not many strange things in the book of nature, and the ad- ministration of Providence, the design and use of which they cannot see, many things that to them seem wrong and ill-contrived 1 Yet they own the world was created by God, and that his providence rules it : and why will they not allow that the Scriptures may be from God, not- withstanding these difficulties and seeming incongrui- ties 1 When a learned man can easily raise his discourse above the capacity of common people, will they not con- descend to grant that an infinite God can easily overshaot their little souls 1 Indeed a revelation which we could fully comprehend, v»'Ould not appear the production of an infinite mind 5 it would bear no resemblance to its hea- venly Father ; and therefore we should have reason to suspect it spurious. It is necessary we should meet with difficulties in the scriptures to mortify our pride. But farther, will they make no allowance for the diffisrent customs and practices of different ages 1 It is certain, that may be proper and graceful in one age which would be ridiculous and absurd in another ; and since the scrip- tures were written so many years ago, we may safely make this allowance for them, which will remove many seeming absurdities. There should also allowance be made for the scriptures being rendered iterally out of dead difficult languages ; for we know that many expres- sions may be beautiful and significant in one language, which would be ridiculous and nonsensical if literally translated into another. Were Homer or Virgil thua translated into English, without regard to the idiom of OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. » 23 the lanf^uage, instead of admiring their beauties, we should be apt to think (as Cowley expresses it) " that one madman had translated another madman " Will they object the wicked lives of its professors against the holiness and good tendency of Christianity itself 1 But is it Christianity, as practised in tiie world, or Christianity as taught by Christ and his apostles, and continued in the Bible, that I am proving to be divine I You know it is the latter, and consequently the poor ap- pearance it makes in the former sense, is no argument against its purity and divinity in this. Again, are the bad lives of professors taught and enjoined by genuine Christianity, and agreeable to it 1 No ; they are quite contrary to it, and subversive of it ; and it is so far from encouraging such professors, that it pronounces them miserable hypocrites ; and their doom will be more se- vere than that of heathens. Again, are there not hypo- critical professors of morality and natural religion, as well as of revealed 1 Are there not many who cry up morality and religion of nature, and yet boldly violate its plainest precepts 1 If therefore this be a sufficient ob- jection against Christianity, it must be so too against all religion. Further : do men grow better by renounc- ing the religion of Jesus 1 Observation assures us quite the contrary. Finally, are there not some of the professors of Christianity who live habitually according to it 1 who give us the best patterns of piety and virtue that ever were exhibited to the world 1 This is sufficient to vin- dicate the religion they profess, and it is highly injurious to involve such promiscuously in the odium and con- tempt due to barefaced hypocrites. How would this rea- soning please the deists themselves in parallel cases 1 *' Some that have no regard to Christianity have been murderers, thieves, &c. therefore all that disregard it are such." Or " some that pretended to be honest, have been found villains ; therefore all that pretend to it are such ; or therefore honesty is no virtue." Or w411 they change the note, and instead of pleading that Christianity leads to licentiousness, object that it bears too hard upon the pleasures of mankind, and lays them under too severe restraints 1 Or that its penalties are excessive and cruel 1 But does it rob mankind of •\ny pleasures worthy the rational nature, worthy the pur- 24 THE DIVINE AUTHORITY ArvD SUFFICIENCY suit of creatures formed for immortality, ai^d consistent with the good of the whole 1 It restrains them indeed ; but it is only as a physician restrains his patient from poison or any improper regimen ; it restrains men from living like beasts ; it restrains them from those pleasures which will ruin their souls and bodies in the event ; it restrains them from gratifying a private passion at the expense of the public ; in short, it restrains them from making themselves and others miserable. Hard restraint indeed ! and the deists, to be sure, are generous patrons of human liberty, who would free us from such griev- ances as these ! However, this objection lets us into the secret, and informs us of the reason why our pretended free-thinkers are such enemies to Christianity ; it is be- cause it checks their lusts, and will not permit them to act, as well as to think freely, i. e. as they please. If they would content themselves wdth manly and rational pleasures, they would not count the restraints of Chris- tianity intolerable 5 nay, they would find in it a set of peculiarly noble and refined pleasures, which they might seek in vain elsewhere ; for it is so far from being an enemy to the happiness of man, that it was designed to promote it ; and then we make ourselves miserable when we reject it, or it becomes our interest that it should be false. As to the penalty of everlasting punishment an- nexed to sin, which is but a temporal evil, I would ask them whether they are competent judges in a matter in which they are parties 1 Are they capable to determine what degree of punishment should be inflicted upon dis- obedience to the infinite Majesty of heaven, when they are not only short-sighted creatures, but also concerned m the aifair, and their judgments may be perverted by self-interest 1 Whether it is most fit that the Judge of all the earth should determine this point, or a company of malefactors, as they are 1 Is it allowed to criminals in civil courts to determine their o^vn doom, or pro- nounce their own sentence 1 If it were, few of them would be punished at all, and government would fall into contempt. Again, let me remind them, that the penalty was annexed to prevent disobedience, and so to render the execution needless ; and consequently it was prima- rily intended for their good. Why then will they frus- trate this design, and, when they have rendered the ex* OF TIIK CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 25 ccutiou necessary, complain of its severity 1 If they think the penalty so terrible, let them watch against sin, let them accept the salvation the gospel offers, and so avoid it instead of quareling with its severity, and yet rushing upon it. Or, if they say they will persist in sin because they do not believe the punishment is eternal : this gives me room to appeal to themselves whether a less penalty than everlasting misery would be sufficient to restrain them from sin ; and whether God would have taken all proper precautions to prevent sin, if he had an- nexed a less punishment to his law, since by their own confession, nothing less could deter them from it. I shall only add, that as the human soul must always exist, and as by indulgence in sin in the present state it contracts such habits as render it incapable of happiness in the holy enjoyment of the heavenh^ world, it must by a na- tural necessity be for ever miserable, though God should not exert any positive act for Its punishment. And if the devil say, that punishment for some time would re- claim offenders from sin and bring them to repentance, the difficulty is not removed, unless they can prove that misery will bring men to love that God Avho inflicts it, which they can never do ; and it is evident, that that re- pentance which proceeds merely from self-love, without any regard to God at all, can nevei ;/<. pleasing to him, nor prepare them for happiness in the enjoyment of him. Punishment would produce a repentance like that of a sick-bed, forced, servile, and transitory. Will they object, that miracles are not a sufficient evidence of the truth and divinity of a revelation, bc' cause infernal spirits may also work miracles, as in the case of the magicians of Egypt, to confirm an imposture 1 But it is known that our free-thinkers explode and laugh at the existence and power of evil spirits in other cases, and therefore must not be allowed to admit them here to serve a turn. However, we grant there are infernal spirits, and that they can perform many things above human power, which may appear to us miraculous, and yet the evidence in favor of Christianity taken from miracles, stands unshaken: for, (1.) Can we suppose that these malignant and wickx^d spirits, w^hose business it is to reduce men to sin and ruin, would be willing to exert their power to work miracles to ccnfirm so holy a 3 26 THE DIVOE AUTHORITY AND SUFFICIENCY religioi ; a religion so contrary to their design, and so subversive of their kingdom and interest 1 This would be wretched policy indeed. Or if we should suppose them willing, yet (2.) Can we think that God, who has them all at his control, would suffer them to counterfeit the great seal of heaven, and annex it to an importure 1 that is, to work such miracles as could not be distin- guished from those wrought by him to attest an impos- ture ] Would he permit them to impose upon mankind in a manner that could not be detected 1 This would be to deliver the world to their management, and suffer them to lead them blindfold to hell in unavoidable delu- sion : for miracles are such dazzling and pompous evi- dences, that the general run of mankind could not resist them, even though they were wrought to attest a reli- gion that might be demonstrated, by a long train of sub- lime reasoning, to be false. God may indeed suffer the devil to mimic the miracles wrought by his immediate hand, as in the case of Jannes and Jambres ; but then, as in that case too, he will take care to excel them, and give some distinguishing marks of his almighty agency, which all mankind may easily discriminate from the ut- most exertion of infernal power. But though Satan should be willing, and God should permit him to work miracles, yet, (3) Can Ave suppose that all the united powers of hell are able to work such astonishing mira- cles as were wrought for the confirmation of the Chris- tian religion % Can we suppose that they can control the laws of nature at pleasure, and that with an air of sovereignty, and professing themselves the lords of the universe, as we know Christ did 1 If we can believe this, then we deny them, and may as well ascribe the creation and preservation of the world to them. If they could exert a creating power to form new limbs for the maimed, or to multiply five loaves and two fishes into a sufficient quantity of food for five thousand, and leave a greater quantity of fragments when that were done than the whole provision at first, then they might create the A^orld, and support all the creatures in it. If they could animate the dead and remand the separate soul back to its former habitation, and reunite it with the body, then I see not why they might not have given us life at first. But to suppose this, would be to dethrone the King of OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. 27 heaven, and renounce his providence entirely We therefore rest assured that the miracles related m the scriptures were wrought by the finger of God. But our free-thinkers will urge, How do we, at this distance, know that such miracles were actually wrought 1 they are only related in scripture-history ; but to prove the truth of scripture from arguments that suppose the scripture true, is a ridiculous method of reasoning, and only a begging of the question. But, (1.) the reality of those miracles was granted by the enemies of Christian- ity in their writings against it ; and they had no answer to make, but this sorry one, that they were wrought by the power of magic. They never durst deny that they were wrought ; for they knew all the world could prove it. Indeed, an honorable testimony concerning them could not be expected from infidels ; for it would be ut- terly inconsistent that they should own these miracles sufficient attestations of Christianity, and yet continue infidels. And this may answer an unreasonable demand of the deists, that Ave should produce some honorable testimony concerning these attestations from Jews and Heathens, as well as from Christians, who were parties. We should have much more reason to suspect the testi- mony of the former as not convictive, when it did not convince the persons themselves. But, (2.) As these miracles were of so public a nature, and as so many were concerned to detect them, that they would unavoidably have been detected when related in words, if they had not been done ; so, for the same rea- sons, they could not but have been detected when re- lated in writing ; and this we know they never were. If these miracles had not been matters of undoubted fact, they could not have been inserted at first in the gospel- history ; for then, many thousands, in various countries were alive to confute them ; and they could not have been introduced into it afterwards, for all the world would see that it was then too late, and that if there had been such things they should have heard of them before : for they were much more necessary for the propagation of Christianity than for its support when received. But it may be objected. How can we at this distance know that these histories are genuine 1 May they not have been corrupted, and many additions made to them 28 THE DJVJNE AUTHORITY AND SUFFlCIENCy by designing men in ages since 1 And why is it not also asked, how do we know that there were such men as Alexander, Julius Caesar, or King William the Third 1 How do we know but their histories are all romance and fable 1 How do we know that there were any gen- erations of mankind before ourselves 1 How do we know but all the acts of Parliament of former reigns are corrupted and we are ruled by impositions 1 In short, how can we know anything, but what we have seen with our eyes 1 We may as well make difficulties of all these things, and so destroy all human testimony, as scruple the genuineness of the sacred writings ; for nev- er were any writings conveyed down with so good evi- dence of their being genuine and uncorrupted as these. Upon their first publication they were put into all hands, they were scattered into all nations, translated into va- rious languages, and all perused them ; either to be taught by them, or to cavil at them. And ever since, they have been quoted by thousands of authors, appeal- ed to by all parties of Christians, as the supreme judge of controversies ; and not only the enemies of Christiani- ty have carefully watched them to detect any alterations which pious fraud might attempt to make, but one sect of Christians has kept a watchful eye over the other, lest they should alter anything in favor of their own cause. And it is matter of astonishment as well as conviction, that all the various copies and translations of the scrip- tures in different nations and libraries are substantially the same, and differ only in matters of small moment ; so that from the worst copy of translation in the world, one might easily learn the substance of Christianity. Or will our infidels insist to be eye-witnesses of these facts 1 Must one arise from the dead, or new miracles be wrought to convince them by ocular demonstration 1 This is a most unreasonable demand, for (1.) The con- tinuance of miracles in every age would be attended with numerous inconveniences. For example, Multi- tudes must be born blind, deaf, or dumb ; multitudes must be afflicted with incurable diseases, and possessed bv evil spirits ; multitudes must be disturbed in the sleep of death ; and all the laws of nature must be made precarious and fickle, in order to leave room for miracu* lous operafons ; and all this' to humor a company of OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION, 29 obstinate infidels, who would not believe upon less strik- mg though entirely sufficient evidence. (2.) The con- •inuance of miracles from age to age would destroy their very nature, to which it is essential, that they be rare and extraordinary ; for what is ordinary and fre- quent, we are apt to ascribe to the established laws of nature, however wonderful it be in itself. For example, if we saw dead bodies rise from their graves, as often as we see vegetables spring from seed rotten in the earth, we should be no more surprised at the one phe- nomenon than we are at the other, and our virtuosi would be equally busy to assign some natural cause for both. And had we never seen the sun rise until this morn- ing, we should justly have accounted it as great a mira- cle as any recorded in the scriptures ; but because it is common, we neglect it as a thing of course. Indeed, it is not anything in the event itself, or in the degree of povv^er necessary for its accomplishment, that renders it miraculous, but its being uncommon, and out of the or- dinary course of things ; for example, the generation of the human body is not in itself less astonishing ; nor does it require less power than its resurrection : the re- volution of the sun in its regular course is as wonderful, and as much requires a divine power, as its standing still m the days of Joshua. But we acknowledge a miracle m the one case, but not in the other, because the one is extraordinary, while the other frequently occurs Hence it follows, that the frequent repetition of mira cles, as often as men are pleased to plead the want of evidence to excuse their infidelity, would destroy their very nature : and consequently, to demand their conti nuance is to demand an impossibility. But (3.) Suppose that men should be indulged in this request, it would not probably bring them to believe. If they are unbe- lievers now, it is not for want of evidence, but througji wilful blindness and obstinacy ; and as they that will shut their eyes can see no more in meridian light than in the twilight, so they that reject a sufficiency of evi- dence would also resist a superfluity of it. Thus the Jews, who were eye-witnesses of the miracles recorded in the scriptures, continued invincible infidels still. They had always some trifling cavil ready to object 3* 30 DIVINE AUTHORITY OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. against the brightest evidence. And thus our modern infidels would no doubt evade the force of the most mi- raculous attestation by some wretched hypothesis or other ; they would look upon miracles either as magical productions, or illusions of their senses ; or rather, as natural and necessary events, which they would indeed have some reason to conclude, if they were frequently performed before their eyes. Som.e have pretended U doubt of the existence and perfections of God, notwith standing the evidences thereof upon this magnificent structure of the universe ; and must God be always cre- ating new worlds before these obstinate creatures for their conviction 1 Such persons have as much reason to demand it in this case, as our deists have to insist for new miracles in the other. I might add, that such glar- ing evidence, as, like the light of the sun, Avould force itself irresistibly upon the minds of the most reluctant, would not leave room for us to show our regard to-God in believing, for we should then believe from extrinsic necessity, and not from choice. It is therefore most correspondent to our present state of probation, that there should be something in the evidence of a divine revelation to try us ; something that might fully con- \ ince the teachable and yet not remove all umbrages for cavilling from the obstinate. Thus I have answered as many objections as the bounds of a sermon w^ould admit ; and I think they are the principal ones which lie against my svibject in the view I have considered it. And as I have not designed- ly selected the weakest, in order to an easy triumph, you may look upon the answers that have been given as a ground of rational presumption, that all other objec- tions may be answered with equal ease. Indeed, if they could not, it would not invalidate the positive arguments in favor of Christianity ; for when we have sufficient positive evidence for a thing, we do not reject it be- cause it is attended with some difficulties which we can- not solve. My time will allow me to make but two or three short reflections upon the whole. 1. If the religion of Jesus be attested with such full evidence, and be sufTicicnt to conduct men to everlast- ing felicity, then how helpless are they that have enjoy- rilE METHOD OF SALVATION 31 ed it all their life without profit : who either reject it as false, or have not felt its power to reform their hearts and lives 1 It is the last remedy provided for a guilty world ; and if this fails, their disease is incurable, and they are not to expect better means. 2. If the religion of Jesus be true, then wo unto the wicked of all sorts : w^o to infidels, both practical and speculative, for all the curses of it are in full force against them, and I need not tell you how dreadful they are. 3. If the religion of Jesus be true, then I congratulate such of you, whose hearts and lives are habitually con- formed to it, and who have venture.d your everlasting all upon it. You build upon a sure foundation, and your hope shall never make you ashamed. Finally, Let us all strive to become rational and prac- tical believers of this heaven-born religion. Let our understandings be more rationally and thoroughly con- vinced of its truth ; and our hearts and lives be more and more conformed to its purity ; and ere long we shall receive those glorious rewards it insures to all its sin- cere disciples ; which may God grant to us all for Jesus' sake J Amen ! SERMON II. THE METHOD OF SALVATION THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. John iii. 16. — For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. I have been solicitously thinking in what \vay my life, redeemed from the grave, may be of most service to my dear people. And I would collect all the feeble remains of my strength into one vigorous effort this day, to pro- mote this benevolent end. If I knew what subject has the most direct tendency to save your souls, that is the subject to whi^h my heart would chng with peculiar en- 32 THE METHOD OF SALVATION. dearment, and which 1 would make the matter of the present discourse. And when I consider I am speaking to an assembly of sinners, guilty, depraved, helpless creatures, and that, if ever you be saved, it will be only through Jesus Christ, in that way which the gospel reveals ; when I consider that your everlasting life and happiness turn upon this hinge, namely, the reception you give to this Savior, and this way of salvation ; I say, when I consider these things, I can think of no subject I can more properly choose than to recomm.end the Lord Jesus to your ac- ceptance, and to explain and inculcate the method of sal- vntion through his mediation ; or, in other words, to preach the pure gospel to you ; for the gospel, in the most proper sense, is nothing else but a revelation of a way of salvation for sinners of Adam's race. My text furnishes me with proper materials for my purpose. Let heaven and earth hear it with wonder, joy, and raptures of praise ! God so loved the world., that he gave his only begotten Son., that whosoever^ or that every one that believetk in him should not pej'ish, but have ever- lasting life. This is a part of the most important evening conversa- tion that ever was held ; I mean, that between Christ and Nicodemus, a Pharisee and ruler of the Jews. Our Lord first instructs him in the doctrine of regeneration, that grand constituent of a Christian, and pre-requisite to our admission in the kingdom of heaven ; and then he pro- ceeds to inform him of the gospel-method of salvation, which contains these two grand articles, the death of Christ, as the great foundation of blessedness ; and faith in him, as the great qualification upon the part of the sinner. He presents this important doctrine to us in various forms, with a very significant repetition. j3s Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so shall the Son of Man be lifted up ; that is, hung on high on a cross, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life. Then follows my text, which expresses the same doctrine with great force : God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, gave him Up to death, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. He goes on to mention a won- der. This earth is a rebellious province of Jehovah's THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 33 dominions, and therefore if his Son should ever visit it, one would think it would be as an angry judge, or as the executioner of his Father's vengeance. But, 0 aston- ishing ! God sent not his Son into the world to condemn t%e world^ hut that the world through him. might be saved. Hence the terms of life and death are thus fixed. He that believeth in him is not condemned: but he that believ- eth not is condemned already^ because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. Sure the hea- venly rivers of pleasure flow in these verses. Never, metliinks, was there so much gospel expressed in so few words. Here, take the gospel in miniature, and bind it to your hearts for ever. These verses alone, methinks, are a sufficient remedy for a dying world. The truths I would infer from the text for present im- provement are these : that without Christ you are all in a perishing condition ; that through Jesus Christ a way is opened for your salvation ; that the grand pre-requi- site to your being saved in this way, is faith in Jesus Christ 5 that every one, without exception, whatever his former character has been, that is enabled to comply with this pre-requisite, shall certainly be saved ; and that the constitution of this method of salvation, or the mis- sion of Christ into our world, as the Savior of sinners, is a most striking and astonishing instance and display of the love of God. I. My text implies, that without Christ you are all in a perishing condition. This holds true of you in partic- ular, because it holds true of the world universally ; for the world was undoubtedly in a perishing condition without Christ, and none but he could relieve it, other- wise God would never have given his only begotten Son to save it. God is not ostentatious or prodigal of his gifts, especially of so inestimable a gift as his Son, whom he loves infinitely more than the whole creation. So great, so dear a person would not have been sent upon a mission which could have been discharged by any other being. Thousands of rams must bleed in sac- rifice, or ten thousands of rivers of oil must flow j our first-born must die for our transgressions, and the fruit of our body for the sin of our souls ; or Gabriel or some of the upper ranks of angels, must leave their thrones, and hang upon a cross, if such methods of salvation had 34 THE METHOD OF SALVATION. been sufficient. All this would have been nothing in comparison of the only begotten Son of God leaving his native heaven, and all its glories, assuming our degrad- ed nature, spending thirty-three long and tedious years in poverty, disgrace, and persecution, dying as a male- factor and a slave in the midst of ignominy and torture, and lying a mangled breathless corpse in the grave. We may be sure there was the highest degree of necessity for it, otherwise God would not have given up his dear Son to such a horrid scene of sufferings. This, then, was the true state of the world, and conse- quently yours without Christ ; it was hopeless and des- perate in every view. In that situation there would not have been so much goodness in the world as to try the efficacy of sacrifices, prayers, tears, reformation, and re- pentance, or they would have been tried in vain. It would have been inconsistent with the honor of the divine perfections and government, to admit sacrifices, pray- ers, tears, repentance, and reformation, as a sufficient atonement. What a melancholy view of the world have we now before us ! We know the state of mankind only under the gracious government of a Mediator ; and we but seldom realize what our miserable condition would have been, had this gracious administration never been set up. But exclude a Savior in your thoughts for a mo- ment, and then take a view of the world — helpless ! hopeless ! — under the righteous displeasure of God ; and despairing of relief ! — the very suburbs of hell ! the range of malignant devils ! the region of guilt, misery, and despair ! — the mouth of the infernal pit ! — the gate of hell ! — This would have been the condition of our world had it not been for that Jesus who redeemed it ; and yet in this very world he is neglected and despised. But you will ask me, " How it comes that the world was in such an undone, helpless, hopless condition with- out Christ ; or what are the reasons of all this 1" The true account of this will appear from these two considerations, that all mankind are sinners ; and that no other method but the mediation of Christ could ren- der the salvation of sinners consistent with the honor of the divine perfections and government, with the pub- lic good, and even with the nature of things. TH!touc:i JESUS CHRIST. 3a All mankind are sinners. This is too evident to need proof. They are sinners, rebels against the greatest and best of beings, against their Maker, their liberal Benefactor, and their rightful Sovereign, to whom they are under stronger and more endearing obligations than they can be under to any creature, or even to the entire system of creatures ; sinners, rebels in every part of our guilty globe ; none righteous, no, not one ; all sinners, without exception : sinners from age to age for thou- sands of years : thousands, millions, innumerable multi^ tudes of sinners. What an obnoxious race is this ! There appears no difficulty in the way of justice to punish such creatures. But what seeming insuperable difficulties appear in the way of their salvation ! Let me mention a few of them to recommend that blessed Sav- ior who has removed them all. If such sinners be saved, how shall the holiness and justice of God be displayed! How shall he give an honorable view of himself to all worlds, as a being of perfect purity, and an enemy to all moral evil 1 If such sinners be saved, how shall the honor of the divine government and law be secured \ How will the dignity of the law appear, if a race of rebels may trifle with it with impunity 1 What a sorry law must that be that has no sanctions, or whose sanctions may be dis- pensed with at pleasure 1 What a contemptible govern- ment, that may be insulted and rejected, and the offend- er admitted into favor without exemplary punishment 1 No government can subsist upon such principles of ex- cessive indulgence. How can such sinners be saved, and yet the good of the public secured, which is always the end of every wise and good ruler 1 By the public good I do not mean the happiness of mankind alone, but I mean the happiness of all worlds of reasonable creatures collec- tively, in comparison of which the happiness of man- kind alone may be only a private interest, which should always give way to the public good. Now sin has a di- rect tendency, not only according to law, but according to the nature of things, to scatter misery and ruin wherever its infection reaches. Therefore the public good cannot properly be consulted without giving a loud and effectual warning against all sin, and deal* 36 THE METHOD OF SALVATiO.X. ing with offenders in such a manner as to ileter others from offending. But how can this be done 1 How can the sinner be saved, and yet the evil of sin displayed, and all other beings be deterred from it for ever 1 How can sin be discouraged by pardoning It 1 its evil displayed by letting the criminal escape punishment 1 These are such difficulties, that nothing but divine wisdom could ever surmount them. These difficulties lie in the way of a mere pardon, and exemption from punishment : but salvation includes more than this. When sinners are saved, they are not only pardoned, but received into high favor, made the children, the friends, the courtiers of the King of heaven. They are not only delivered from punish- ment, but also advanced to a state of perfect positive happiness, and nothing short of this can render such creatures as we happy. Now, in this view, the difficul- ties rise still higher, and it is the more worthy of obser- vation, as this is not generally the case in human gov- ernments ; and as men are apt to form their notions of the divine government by human, they are less sensible of these difficulties. — But this is indeed the true state of the case here ; how can the sinner be not only deliv- ered from punishment, but also advanced to a state of perfect happiness 1 not only escape the displeasure of his offended Sovereign, but be received into full favor, and advanced to the highest honor and dignity ; hov/ can this be done without casting a cloud over the purity and justice of the Lord of all ; without sinking his law and government into contempt ; without diminishing the evil of sin, and emboldening others to venture upon it, and so at once injuring the character of the supreme Ruler, and the public good 1 How can sinners, I say, be saved without the salvation being attended w4th these bad consequences 1 And here you must remember, that these conse- quences must be provided against. To save men at random, without considering the consequences, to dis- tribute happiness to private persons with an undistin- guishing hand, this would be at once inconsistent with the character of the supreme Magistrate of the universe, and with the public good. Private persons are at liberty to forgive private offences j nay, it is their duty THROUGIf JESTJS CHRIST. 31 to forgive ; and they can hardly offend by way of ex- cess in the generous virtues of mercy and compassion. But the case is otherwise with a magistrate ; he is obliged to consult the dignity of his government and the interest of the public ; and he may easily carry his lenity to a very dangerous extreme, and by his tenderness to criminals do an extensive injury to the state. This is particularly the case with regard to the great God, the universal supreme Magistrate of all worlds. And this ought to be seriously considered by those men of loose principles among us, who look upon God only under the fond character of a father, or a being of infi- nite mercy ; and thence conclude, they have little to fear from him for all their audacious iniquities. There is no absolute necessity that sinners should be saved : justice may be suffered to take place upon them. But there is the most absolute necessity that the Ruler of the Avorld should both be, and appear to be holy and just. There is the most absolute necessity that he should sup- port the dignity of his government, and guard it from contempt, that he should strike all worlds with a proper horror of sin, and represent it in its genuine infernal colors, and so consult the good of the whole, rather than a part. There is, I say, the highest and most absolute necessity for these things ; and they cannot be dispensed with as matters of arbitrary pleasure. And unless these ends can be answered in the salvation of men, they can- not bes aved at all. No, they must all perish, rather than God should act out of character, as the supreme magis- trate of the universe, or bestow private favors to crimi- nals, to the detriment of the public. And in this lay the difficulty. Call a council of all the sages and wise men of the world, and they can never get over this difficulty, without borrowing assist- ance from the gospel. Nay, this, no doubt, puzzled all the angelic intelligences, who pry so deep into the mys- teries of heaven, before the gospel was fully revealed. — Methinks the angels, when they saw the fall of man, gave him up as desperate. " Alas ! (they cried) the poor creature is gone ! he and all his numerous race are lost for ever." This, they knew, had been the doom of their fellow angels that sinned : and could they hope better for man 1 Then they had not seen any of the 38 THE METHOD OF SALVATION wonders of pardoning love and mercy, and could they have once thought that that glorious person, who filled the middle throne, and was their Creator and Lord, would ever become a man, and die, like a criminal, to redeem an inferior rank of creatures \ No, this thought they \vould probably have shuddered at as blasphemy. And must we then give up ourselves and all our race as lost beyond recovery 1 There are huge and seem- ingly insuperable difficulties in the way j and we have seen that neither men nor angels can prescribe any re- lief. But, sing, 0 ye heavens, for the Lord hath done it : shout, ye lower parts of the earth : break forth into sing- ing, ye mountains, 0 forest, and every tree therein ; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel, Isaiah xliv. 23. Which leads me to add, II. My text implies, that through Jesus Christ a way is opened for your salvation. He, and he only was found equal to the undertaking ; and before him all these mountains became a plain ; all these difficulties vanish ; and now God can be just, can secure the dig- nity of his character, as the Ruler of the world, and an- swer all the ends of government, and yet justify and save the sinner that believeth in Jesus. This is plainly implied in this glorious epitome of the gospel : God so loved the world, that he gave his only be- gotten Son, that whoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. Without this gift all was lost : but now, whosoever believeth in him may be saved ; saved in a most honorable way. This will appear more particularly, if we consider the tendency the mediation of Christ had to remove the difficulties mentioned. But I would premise two general remarks. The first is. That God being considered in this affair in his public character, as Supreme Magistrate, or Gov- ernor of the world, all the punishment which he is con- cerned to see inflicted upon sin is only such as answers the ends of government. Private revenge must vent itsel r on the very person of the offender, or be disap- pointed. But to a ruler, as such, it may in some cases be indifferent, whether the punishment be sustained by the very person that offended, or by a substitute suffer ing in his stead. It may also be indifferent whether the very same punishment, as to kind and degree, threat- THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 39 ened in the law, be inflicted, or a punishment equivalent to it. If the honor of the ruler and his government be maintained, if all disobedience be properly discounte- nanced 5 if, in short, all the ends of government can be answered, such things as these are indifferences. Con- sequently, if these ends should be answered by Christ's suffering in the stead of sinners, there would be no objection against it. This remark introduces another, namely, (2.) That Jesus Christ was such a person that his suffering as the substitute or surety of sinners, an- swered all the ends of government which could be an- swered by the execution of the punishment upon the sinners themselves. To impose suffering upon the in- nocent, when unwilling, is unjust : but Jesus Avas will- ing to undertake the dreadful task. And besides, he was a person {sui juris) at his owm disposal, his own property, and therefore he had a right to dispose of his life as he pleased ; and there Avas a merit in his consent- ing to that which he was not obliged to previous to his consent. He was also a person of infinite dignity, and infinitely beloved by his Father ; and these considera- tions rendered the merit of his sufferings for a short time, and another kind of punishment than that of hell, equal, more than equal to the everlasting sufferings of sinners themselves. Jesus Christ was also above law ; that is, not obliged to be subject to that law which he had made for his creatures, and consequently his obedi- ence to the law, not being necessary for himself, might be imputed to others : wheyeas creatures are incapable of works of supererogation, or of doing more than they are bound to do, being obliged to obey their divine law- giver for themselves to the utmost extent of their abili- ties, and consequently their obedience, however perfect, can be sufficient only for themselves, but cannot be im- puted to others. Thus it appears, in general, that the ends of government are as effectually answered by the sufferings of Christ in the room of sinners, as they could be by the everlasting punishment of the sinners them- selves ; nay, we shall presently find they are answered in a more striking and illustrious manner. To mention particulars : Was it necessary that the holiness and justice of God should be displayed in the salvation of sinners 1 See 40 THE METHOD OF SALVATION how bright they shine in a suffering Savior ! Now it appears that such is the holiness and justice of God, that he will not let even his own Son escape unpunished, when he stands in the law-place of sinners, though guilty only by the slight stain (may I so speak) of im- putation. Could the execution of everlasting punish- ment upon the hateful criminals themselves ever give so bright a display of these attributes \ It were impossi- ble. Again, Was it a difficulty to save sinners, and yet maintain the rights of the divine government, and the honor of the law 1 See how this difficulty is removed by the obedience and death of Christ ! Now it appears, that the rights of the divine government are so sacred and inviolable, that they must be maintained, though the darling Son of God should fall a sacrifice to justice ; and that not one offence against this government can be par- doned, Avithout his making a full atonement. Now it appears, that the Supreme Ruler is not to be trilled with, but that his injured honor must be repaired, though at the expense of his Son's blood and life. Now, the pre- cept of the law is perfectly obeyed in every part, and a full equivalent to its penalty endured, by a person of in- finite dignity 5 and it is only upon this footing, that is, of complete satisfaction to all the demands of the law, that any of the rebellious sons of men can be restored into favor. This is a satisfaction which Christ alone could give : to sinners it is utterly impossible, either by doing or suffering. They cannot do all the things that are written in the law ; nor can they endure its penalty, without being for ever miserable : and therefore the law has received a more complete satisfaction in Christ than it would ever receive from the offenders themselves. Further, Was it a difficulty how sinners might be saved, and yet the evil of sin be displayed in all its horrors \ Go to the cross of Christ ; there, ye fools, that make a mock of sin, there learn its malignity, and its hatefulness to the great God. There you may see it is so great an evil, that when it is but imputed to the man, that is God's fellow, as the surety of sinners, it cannot escape punishment. No, when that dreadful stain lay upon tim, immediately the commission was given to divine THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 41 justice, Awake^ 0 sword, against my shepherd, against the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of hosts ; smite the shepherd. Zech. xiii. 7. — When Christ stood in the room of sinners, even the Father spared not his own Son, but gave him up to death. That the criminals themselves, who are an inferior race of creatures, should not escape would not be strange : but what an enormous evil must that be, which cannot be com ived at even in the favor- ite of Heaven, the only begotten Son of God ! Surely nothing besides could give so striking a display of" its malignity ! Was it a difficulty how to reconcile the salvation of sinners, and the public good] that is, how to forgive sin, and yet give an eflectual warning against it 1 How to receive the sinner into favor, and advance him to the highest honor and happiness, and in the mean time de- ter all other beings from offending 1 All this is pro- vided for in the sufferings of Christ as a surety. Let all worlds look to his cross, and receive the warning which his wounds, and groans, and blood, and dying agonies proclaim aloud ; and sure they can never dare to offend after the example of man. Now they may see that the only instance of pardon to be found in the universe was not brought about by such means as are not likely to be repeated ; by the incarnation and death of the Lord of glory. And can they flatter themselves that he will leave his throne and hang upon a cross, as often as any of his creatures wantonly dare to offend him 1 No ; such a miracle as this, the utmost effort of divine grace, is not often to be renewed ; and therefore, if they dare to sin, it is at their peril They have no reason to flat- ter themselves they shall be favored like fallen man; but rather to expect they shall share in the doom of the fallen angels. Or if they should think sin may escape with but a slight punishment, here they may be convinced of the contrary. If the Darling of heaven, the Lord of glory, though personally innocent, suffers so much when sin is but imputed to him, what shall the sinners themselves feel, who can claim no favor upon the footing of their own importance, or personal innocence % If these things be done "in the green tree, what shaU be done in the dryl." 4* 4^2 THE METHOD OF SALVATION Tims, my brethren, you may see how a way is openeo through Jesus Christ for our salvation. All the ends of government may be answered, and yet you pardoned, and made happy. Those attributes of the divine nature, such as mercy and justice, which seemed to clash, are now reconciled ; now they mingle their beams, and both shine with a brighter glory in the salvation of sinners, than either of them could apait. And must you not acknow leflge this divine God-like scheme 1 Can you look round you over the works of the creation, and see the divine wisdom in every object, and can you not perceive the divine agency in this still more glorious work of re- demption l Redemption, which gives a full view of the Deity, not as the sun in eclipse, half dark, half bright, but as A God all o'er, consummate, absolute, Full orb'd, in his whole round of rays complete. — Young. And shall not men and angels join in wonder and praise at the survey of this amazing scheme 1 Angels are wrapt in wonder and praise, and will be so to all eter- nity. See ! how they pry into this mystery ! hark ! how they sing ! " Glory to God in the highest ;" and cele- brate the Lamb that was slain ! and shall not men, who are personally interested in the affair, join with them 1 O ! are there none to join with them in this assembly 1 Surely, none can refuse ! Now, since all obstructions are removed on God's part, that lay in the way of our salvation, why should we not all be saved together 1 What is there to hinder our crowding into heaven promiscuously % Or what is there requisite on our part, in order to make us partakers of this salvation 1 Here it is proper to pass on to the next truth inferred from the text, namely : III. That the grand pre-requisite to your being saved in this vv'^ay, is faith in Jesus Christ. Though the ob- structions on God's part are removed by the death of Christ, yet there is one remaining in the sinner, which cannot be removed without his consent ; and which, while it remains, renders his salvation impossible in the nature of things ; that is, the depravity and corruption of his nature. Till this is cured, he cannot relish those fruitions and employments in which the happiness of TIIKOUGir JESUS CHRIST. 43 heaven consists, and consequently he cannot be happy there. Therefore there is a necessity, in the very nature of things, that he should be made holy, in order to be saved ; nay, his salv'ation itself consists in holiness. Now, faith is the root of all holiness in a sinner. With- out a firm realizing belief of the great truths of the gos- pel, it is impossible a sinner should be sanctified by their influence: and without a particular faith in Jesus Christ, he cannot derive from him those sanctifying influences by which alone he can be made holy, and which are con- veyed through Jesus Christ, and through him alone. Further : It would be highly incongruous, and indeed impossible, to save a sinner against his will, or in a way he dislikes. Now faith, as you shall see presently, prin- cipally consists in a hearty consent to and approbation of the way of salvation through Jesus Christ, the only ■jv'ay in which a sinner can be saved consistently with the divme honor : so that the constitution of the gospel is not only just, but as merciful as it can be, when it or- dains that only he that believeth shall be saved ; but that he that believeth not^ shall be damned. Again : We cannot be saved through Jesus Christ, till his righteousness be so far made ours as that it will an- swer the demands of the law for us, and procure the favor of God to us ; but his righteousness cannot be thus imputed to us, or accounted ours in law, till we are so united to him as to be one in law, or one legal per- son with him. Now faith is the bond of union ,* faith is that which interests us in Christ ; and therefore without faith we cannot receive any benefit from his righteous- ness. Here then a most interesting inquiiy presents itself: "What is it to believe in Jesus Christ \ or what is that faith which is the grand pre-requisite to salvation 1" If you are capable of attention to the most interesting af- air in all the world, attend to this with the utmost seri- ousness and solemnity. Faith in Christ includes something speculative in it ; that is, it includes a speculative rational belief, upon the testimony of God, that Jesus Christ is the only Savior of men. But yet it is not entirely a speculation, like the faith of multitudes among us : it is a more practical, ■44 THE METHOD OF SALVATION experimental thing ; and that you may understand its na- ture, you must take notice of the following particulars. (1.) Faith pre-supposes a deep sense of our undone, helpless condition. I told you before, this is the condi- tion of the world without Christ ; and you must be sen- sible at heart that this is your condition in particular, before you can believe in him as your Savior. He came to be a Savior in a desperate case, when no relief could possibly be had from any other quarter, and you cannot receive him under that character till you feel yourselves in such a case ; therefore, in order to your believing, all your pleas and excuses for your sins must be silenced, all your high conceit of your own goodness must be mortified, all your dependence upon your own righteousness, upon the merit of your prayers, your re- pentance, and good works, must be cast down, and you must feel that indeed you lie at mercy, that God may justly reject you for ever, and that all you can do can bring him under no obligation to save you. These things you must be deeply sensible of, otherwise you can never receive the Lord Jesus Christ in that view in which he is proposed to you, namely, as a Savior in a desperate case. I wish and pray you may this day see yourselves in this true, though mortifying light. It is the want of this sense of things that keeps such crowds of persons unbe- lievers among us. It is the want of this that causes the Lord Jesus to be so little esteemed, so little sought for, so little desired among us. In short, it is the want of this that is the great occasion of so many perishing from under the gospel, and, as it were, from between the hands of a Savior. It is this, alas ! that causes them to perish, like the impenitent thief on the cross, with a Savior by their side. 0 that you once rightly knew yourselves, you would then soon know Jesus Christ, and receive salvation from his hand. (2.) Faith implies the enlightening of the understand- ing to discover the suitableness of Jesus Christ as a Savior, and the excellency of the way of salvation through him. While the sinner lies undone and helpless in himself, and looking about in vain for some relief, it pleases a gracious God to shine into his heart, and ena- bles him to see his glory in the face of Jesus Christ. THKOUGII JESUS CHRIST. 45 Now this once neglected Savior appears not only abso- lutely necessary, but also all-glorious and lovely, aivd the sinner's heart is wrapt away, and for ever captivated with his beauty : now the neglected gospel appears in a a new light, as different from all his former apprehen- sions as if it were quite another thing. I have not time at present to enlarge upon this discovery of Christ and the gospel which faith includes ; and indeed should I dwell upon it ever so long, I could not convey just ideas of it to such of you as have never had the happy expe- rience of it. In short, the Lord Jesus, and the way of salvation through him, appear perfectly suitable, all- sufficient, and all-glorious : and in consequence of this, (3.) The sinner is enabled to embrace this Savior with all his heart, and to give a voluntary, cheerful, consent to this glorious scheme of salvation. Now all his former unwillingness and reluctance are subdued, and his heart no more draws back from the terms of the gospel, but he complies with them, and that not merely out of constraint and necessity, but out of free choice, and Avith the greatest pleasure and delight. How does his heart now cling to the blessed Jesus with the most affectionate endearment ! How is he lost in wonder, joy, and gratitude, at the survey of the divine perfections, as displayed in this method of redemption ! How does he rejoice in it, as not only bringing happi- ness to him, but glory to God ; as making his salvation not only consistent with, but a bright illustration of, the divine perfections, and the dignity of his government ! While he had no other but the low and selfish principles of corrupt nature, he had no concern about the honor of God ; if he might be but saved, it was all he was solicit- ous about ; but now he has a noble, generous heart ; now he is concerned that God should be honored in his sal- v^ation, and this method of salvation is recommended and endeared to him by the thought that it secures to God the supremacy, and makes his salvation subservient to the divine glory. (4.) Faith in Jesus Christ implies an humble trust or dependence upon him alone for the pardon of sin, ac- ceptance with God, and every blessing. As I told you before, the sinner's self-confidence is mortified ; he gives up all hopes of acceptance upon the footing of his 4|6 THE METHOD OF S/\LVATI0:\' own righteousness ; he is filled with self-despair, and yet he does not despair absolutely ; he does not give up himself as lost, but has cheerful hopes of becoming a child of God, and being forever happy, guilty and unworthy as he is ; and what are these hopes founded uponl Why, upon the mere free grace and mercy of God, through the righteousness of Jesus Christ. On this he ventures a guilty, unworthy, helpless soul, and finds it a firm, immovable foundation, while every other ground of dependence proves but a quicksand. There are many that flatter themselves they put their trust in God; but their trust wants sundry qualifications essential to a true faith. It is not the trust of an humble helpless soul that draws all its encouragement from the mere mercy of God, and the free indefinite offer of the gospel ; but it is the presumptuous trust of a proud self-confident sinner, who draws his encouragement in part at least from his own imaginary goodness and importance. It is not a trust in the mercy of God through Jesus Christ, as the only medium through which it can be ho- norably conveyed j but either in the absolute mercy of God, which, without a proper reference to a Mediator, or in his mercy, as in some measure deserved or moved by something in the sinner. Examine whether your trust in God will stand this test. I have now given you a brief answer to that grand question, What is it to believe in Jesus Christ ] and I hope you understand it, though I have not enlarged so much upon it as I willingly would. I shall only add, that this faith may also be knowni by its inseparable ef- fects ; which are such as follow. Faith purifies the heart, and is a lively principle of inward holiness. Faith is always productive of good Avorks, and leads us to uni- versal obedience : faith overcomes the world and all its temptations : faith realizes eternal things, and brings them near ; and hence it is defined by the apostle, The substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen. Heb. xi. 1. Here I have a very important ques- tion to propose to you : Who among you can say, " Well, notwithstanding all my imperfections, and all my doubts and ^ears, I cannot but humbly hope, after the best exammauon I can make, that such a faith has been produced in this heart of mine 1" And can you TllKOUGJI JESi;S CHRIST. 47 say so indeed 1 Then I bring you glad tidings of great joy ; you shall be saved : yes, saved you shall be, in spite of earth and hell; saved, however great your past sins have been. Which thought introduces the glorious truth that comes next in order, namely :■ — IV. My text implies, that every one, without excep- tion, whatever his former character has been, that is enabled to believe in Jesus Christ, shall certainly be saved. The number or aggravations of sin do not alter the case ; and the reason is, the sinner is not received into favor, in whole or in part, upon the account of any ihing personal, but solely and entirely upon the account of the righteousness of Jesus Christ. Now, this righte- ousness is perfectly equal to all the demands of the law ; and therefore, when this righteousness is made over to the sinner as his by imputation, the law has no more de- mands upon him for great sins than for small, for many than for few ; because all demands are fully satisfied by the obedience of Jesus Christ to the law. You see that sinners of all characters who believe in him are put upon an equality in this respect : they are all admitted upon one common footing, the righteousness of Christ ; and that is as sufficient for one as another. This encouraging truth has the most abundant support from the holy scriptures. Observe the agreeable in- definite whosoever so often repeated. " Whosoever be- lieveth in him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life." Whosoever he be, however vile, however guilty, however unworthy, if he does but believe, he shall not perish, but have everlasting life. What an agreeable assurance is this from the lips of him who has the final states of men at his disposal ! The same blessed lips have also declared. Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast ovt. John vi. 37. And Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely. Rev. xxii. 17. He has given you more than bare words to establish you in the belief of this truth ; upon this principle he has acted, choosing some of the most abandoned sinners to make them ex- amples, not of his justice, as w^e might expect, but of his mercy, for the encouragement of others. In the days of his flesh he was reproached by his enemies for his friendship to publicans and sinners ; but sure it is, in- "46 THE METHOD OF SALVATION stead of reproaching, we must love him on this account. When he rose from the dead, he did not rise with angry resentment against his murderers ; no, but he singles them out from a world of sinners, to make them the fl st oflers of pardon through the blood which they had juv t shed. He orders that repentance and remission of sini>. should be preached in his name to all nations^ beginning at Jerusalem. Luke xxiv. 47. At Jerusalem, where he had been crucified a few days before, there he orders the first publication of pardon and life to be made. You may see what monsters of sin he chose to make the monu- ments of his grace in Corinth. J^either fornicators^ nor idolators, nor adulterers^ nor effeminate, 7ior abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God. What a dismal catalogue is this ! It is no wonder such a crew should not inherit the kingdom of heaven ; they are fit only for the infernal prison ; and yet astonishing ! it follows, such were some of you ; but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God. 1 Cor. vi. 9 — 11. W^hat sinner after this can despair of mercy upon his believing in Jesus ! St. Paul was ano- ther instance of the same kind : " This," says he, " is a faithful saying," a saying that may be depended on as true, " and worthy of all acceptation," from a guilty world, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sin- ners, of whom I am chief : howbeit, for this cause I obtain- ed mercy, that in me the chief, Jesus Christ might show forth all long suffering, for a pattern to them which should hereafter believe in him to life everlasting. 1 Tim. i. 15, 16. A sinner of less size would not have answered this end so well ; but if Saul the persecutor obtains mercy upon his believing, who can despair 1 You see upon the whole, my brethren, you are not ex- cluded from Christ and life by the greatness of your sins ; but if you perish it must be from another cause : it must be on account Of your wilful unbelief in not ac- cepting of Jesus Christ as your Savior. If you reject him, then indeed you must perish, however small your sins have been ; for it is only his death that can make atonement for the slightest guilt j and if you have no in THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 49 terest in that, the guilt of the smallest sin wil'. sink you into ruin. Here is a door wide enough for you all, if you will but enter in by faith. Come, then, enter in, you that have hitherto claimed a horrid precedence in sin, that have been ringleaders in vice, come now take the lead, and show others the way to Jesus Christ ; harlots, publicans, thieves, and murderers, if such be among you, there is salvation even for you, if you will but believe. O ! how astonishing is the love of God discovered in this way : a consideration which introduces the last inference from my text, namely, V. That the constitution of this method of salvation, or the mission of a Savior into our world, is a most striking and astonishing display of the love of God : — God so loved the world as to give his only begotten Son, S^c. View the scheme all through, and you will discover love, infinite love, in every part of it. Consider the great God as self-happy and independent upon all his creatures, and what but love, self-moved love, could ex- cite him to make such provision for an inferior part of them ! Consider the world sunk in sin, not only without merit, but most deserving of everlasting punishment, and what but love could move him to have mercy upon such a world \ Consider the Savior provided, not an angel, not the highest creature, but his Son, his only begotten Son ; and what but love could move him to appoint such a Savior 1 Consider the manner in which he was sent, as a gift, a free unmerited gift ; " God gave his only be- gotten Son :" And what but infinite love could give such an uns.peakable gift 1 Consider the blessings conferred through this Savior, deliverance from perdition and the enjoyment of everlasting life, and what but the love of God could confer such blessings 1 Consider the condi- tion upon which these blessings are offered, faith, that humble, self-emptied grace, so suitable to the circum stances of a poor sinner, that brings nothing, but re- ceives all, and what but divine love could make such- a gracious appointment 1 It is by faith^ that it may be of grace. Rom. iv. 16. Consider the indefinite extent or the universality of the ofier, which takes in sinners of /he vilest character, and excepts against none : WhosO'. tver helieveth shall not perish, (Src. O wiiat love is thj?! 5 60 THE METHOD OF SALVATION But I must leave it as the theme of your meditations, not only in the house of your pilgrimage, but through all eternity : eternity will be short enough to pry into this mystery, and it will employ the understandings of men and angels through the revolutions of eternal ages. And now, my brethren, to draw towards a conclusion, I would hold a treaty with you this day about the recon- ciliation to God through Jesus Christ. I have this day set life and death before you : I have opened to you the method of salvation through Jesus Christ : the only method in which you can be saved ; the only method that could afford a gleam of hope to such a sinner as I. in my late approach to the eternal world.* And now [ would bring the matter home, and propose it to you all to consent to be saved in this method, or, in other words, to believe in the only begotten Son of God 5 this proposal 1 seriously make to you : and let heaven and earth, and your own consciences, witness that it is made to you : I also insist for a determinate answer this day ; the matter will not admit of a delay, and the duty is so plain, that there is no need of time to deliberate. A Roman ambassador, treating about peace with the ambassador of a neighboring state, if I remem- ber rightly, and finding him desirous to gain time by shuffling and tedious negotiations, drew a circle about him, and said, " I demand an answer before you go out of this circle." Such a circle let the walls of this house, or the extent of my voice, be to you : before you leave this house, or go out of hearing, 1 insist on a full decisive answer of this proposal. Whether you will believe in Je- sus Christ this day, or not 1 But before I proceed any farther, I would remove on-e stum.bling-block out of your way. You are apt to ob- ject, " You teach us that faith is the gift of God, and that we cannot believe of ourselves ; why then do you exhort us to it 1 Or how can we be concerned to en- deavor that which it is impossible for us to do 1" In answer to this I grant the premises are true ; and God forbid I should so much as intimate that faith is the spontaneous growth of corrupt nature, or that you can * This sermon was preached a little after recovery from a severe fit of sickness, and is dated Hanover.. October 2, 1757. THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 51 come to Christ without the Father's drawing you : but the conclusions you draw from th-ese premises are very erroneous. I exhort and persuade you to believe in Jesus Christ, because it is Avhile such means are used with sinners, and by the uses of them, that it pleases God to enable them to comply, or to work faith in them. I would therefore use those means which God is pleas- ed to bless for this end. I exhort you to believe in or- der to set you upon the trial ; for it is putting it to trial, and that only, which can fully convince you of your own inability to believe ; and till you are convinced of this, you can never expect strength from God. I exhort you to believe, because, sinful and enfeebled as you are, you are capable of using various preparatives to faith. You may attend upon prayer, hearing, and all the outward means of grace with natural seriousness ; you may en- deavor to get acquainted with your own helpless condi- tion, and, as it were, put yourselves in the way of divine mercy ; and though all these means cannot of them- selves produce faith in you, yet it is only in the use of these means you are to expect divine grace to work it in you : never was it yet produced in one soul, while ly- ing supine, lazy, and inactive. I hope you now see good reasons why I should exhort you to believe, and also perceive my design in it ; I therefore renew the proposal to you, that you should this day, as guilty, unworthy, self-despairing sinners, accept of the only begotten Son of God as your Sav- ior, and fail in with the gospel-method of salvation ; and I once more demand your ansAver. I would by no means, if possible, leave the pulpit this day till I have effectual- ly recommended the blessed Jesus, my Lord and Mas- ter, to your acceptance. I am strongly bound by the vows and resolutions of a sick bed to recommend him to you ; and now I would endeavor to perform my vows. I would have us all this day, before we part, consent to God's covenant, that we may go away justified to our houses. To this I persuade and exhort you, in the name and by the authority of the great God, by the death of Jesus Christ for sinners, by your own most urgent and abso- lute necessity, by the immense blessings proposed in 53 THE METHOD OF SALVATION the gospel, and by the heavy curse denounced against unbelievers. All the blessmgs of the gospel, pardon of sin, sancti- fying grace, eternal life, and whatever you can want, shall become jrours this day, if you but believe in the Son of God ; then let desolation overrun our land, let public and private calamities crowd upon you, and make you so many Jobs for poverty and affliction, still your main interest is secure ; the storms and waves of trou- ble can only bear you to heaven, and hasten your pas- sage to the harbor of eternal rest. Let devils accuse you before God, let conscience indict you and bring you in guilty, let the fiery law make its demands upon you, you have a righteousness in Jesus Christ that is suffi- cient to answer all demands, and, having received it by faith, you may plead it as your own in law. Happy souls ! rejoice in hope of the glory of God, for your hope will never make you ashamed 1 But I expect, as usual, some of you will refuse to comply with this proposal. This, alas ! has been the usual fate of the blessed gospel in all ages and in all countries ; as some have received it, so some have re- jected it. That old complaint of Isaiah has been justly repeated thousands of times ; Who hath believed our re- port 1 and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed 1 Isa. liii. 1. And is there no reason to pour it out from a broken heart over some of you, my dear people 1 Are you all this day determined to believe 1 If so, I pro- nounce you blessed in the name of the Lord ; but if not, I must denounce your doom. Be it known to you then from the living God, that if you thus continue in unbelief, you shut the door of mercy against yourselves, and exclude yourselves from eternal life. Whatever splendid appearances of virtue, whatever amiable qualities, whatever seeming good works you have, the express sentence of the gospel lies^ in full force against you, He that believeth not shall be damned. Mark xvi. 16. He that believeth not is condemned already^ because he hath not believed on the only begotten Son of God. John iii. 18. He that believeth not shall not see life ; but the wrath of God abideth upon him. John iii. 36. This is your doom repeatedly pronounced by him THROUGH JESUS CHRIST. 53 whom you must o^vn to be the best friend of human na- ture ; and if he condemn, who can justify you 1 Be it also known to you, that you will not only perish, but you will perish with peculiar aggravations ; you Avill fall with no common ruin ; you w^ill envy the lot of heathens who perished without the law ; for O ! you incur the peculiarly enormous guilt of rejecting the gospel, and putting contempt upon the Son of God. This is a horrid exploit of wickedness, and this God re- sents above all the other crimes of which human nature is capable. Hence Christ is come for judgment as well as for mercy into this world, and he is set for the fall as well as the rising again of many in Israel. You now enjoy the light of the gospel, which has conducted many through this dark Avorld to eternal day ; but re- member also, this is the condemnation ; that is, it is the occasion of the most aggravated condemnation, that light is come into the world^ and men love darkness rather than light. On this principle Jesus pronounced the doom of Chorazin and Bethsaida more intolerable than that of Sodom and Gomorrah. Matt. xi. 21, 22. And would it not be hard to find a place in Virginia where the" doom of unbelievers is likely to be so terrible as among us % And now does not all this move you 1 Are you not alarmed at the thought of perishing ; of perishing by the hand of a Savior rejected and despised; perishing under the stain of his profaned blood ; perishing not only un- der the curse of the law, but under that of the gospel, which is vastly heavier % O ! are you hardy enough to venture upon such a doom % This doom is unavoidable if you refuse to comply with the proposal now made to you. I must now conclude the treaty ; but for my own ac- quaittance, I must take witness that I have endeavored to discharge my commission, whatever reception you give it. I call heaven and earth, and your own conscien- ces to witness, that life and salvation, through Jesus Christ, have been offered to you on this day ; and if you reject it, remember it j remember it w^ienever yow see this place ; remember it whenever you see my face, or one another ; remember it, that you may witness for me at the supreme tribunal, that I am clear of your 5*- 54i SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. blood. Alas! you will remember it among a thousand painful reflections millions of ages hence, when the re- membrance of it will rend your hearts like a vulture. Many sermons forgotten upon earth are remembered in hell, and haunt the guilty mind for ever. O that you would believe, and so prevent this dreadful effect from the present sermon ! SERMON III. SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. 2 CoR. V. 20. — We then are ambassadors for Christy as though God did beseech you by us : ive pray you in Christ'' s steady be ye reconciled to God. To preside in the solemnities of public worship, t'o direct your thoughts, and choose for you the subjects of your meditation on those sacred hours which you spend in the house of God, and upon the right improvement of which your everlasting happiness so much depends, this is a province of the most tremendous importance that can be devolved upon a mortal ; and every man of the sacred character, who knows what he is about, must tremble at the thought, and be often anxiously perplexed what subject he shall choose, what he shall say upon it, and in what manner he shall deliver his message. His success in a great measure depends upon his choice, for though the blessed Spirit is the pro- per agent, and though the best means, without his effi- cacious concurrence, are altogether fruitless, yet he is wont to bless those means that are best adapted to do good ; and after a long course of languid and fruitless efforts, which seem to have been unusually disowned by my divine Master, what text shall I choose out of the inexhaustible treasure of God's word % In what new method shall I speak upon it 1 "What new untried ex- periments shall I make 1 Blessed Jesus! my heavenlv Master ! direct thy poor perplexed servant who is at a SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. {}{) loss, and knows not what to do ; direct him that has tried, and tried again, all the expedients he could think of, but almost in vain, and now scarcely knows what it is to hope for success ! Divine direction, my brethren, has been sought ; and may I hope it is that which has turned my mind to address you this day on the import- ant subject of your reconciliation to God, and to become an humble imitator of the great St. Paul, whose affect- ing words I have read to you. We then are ambassadors for Christy as though God did beseech you by tis ; we pray you in Christ^s stead, be ye reconciled to God. The introduction to this passage you find in the fore- going verses, God hath given to us (the apostles) the min- istry of reconciliation ; the sum and substance of which is, namely, " That God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them." As if he had said, " The great Sovereign of the universe, though highly provoked, and justly displeased with our rebellious world, has been so gracious as to contrive a plan of reconciliation whereby they may not only escape the punishment they deserve, but also be restored to the favor of God, and all the privileges of his favorite subjects. This plan was laid in Christ ; that is, it was he who was appointed, and undertook to remove all obstacles out of the way of their reconcilia- tion, so that it might be consistent with the honor and dignity of God and his Government. This he perform- ed by a life of perfect obedience, and an atoning death, instead of rebellious man. Though " he knew no sin" of his ow^n : yet " he was made sin," that is, a sin-oifer- mg, or a sinner by imputation " for us," that we might " be made the righteousness of God in him." Thus all hindrances are removed on God's part. The plan of a treaty of reconciliation is formed, approved, and ratified in the court of heaven ; but then it must be published, all the terms made known, and the consent of the rebels solicited and gained. It is not enough that all impedi- ments to peace are removed on God's part ; they must also be removed on the part of man ; the reconciliation must be mutual ; both the parties must agree. Hence arises the necessity of the ministry of reconciliation which was committed to the apostles, those prime min- isters of the kingdom of Christ, and in a lower sphere to 56 SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. the ordinary ministers of the gospel in every age. The great business of their office is to publish the treaty of peace 5 that is, the articles of reconciliation, and to use every motive to gain the consent of mankind to these articles. It is this office St. Paul is discharging, when he says, JVe are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us ; we pray you in Christ^ s stead, be ye re- conciled to God. We are ambassadors for Christ. The proper notion of an ambassador, is that of a person sent by a king to transact affairs in his name, and according to his in- structions, with foreign states, or part of his sub- jects, to whom he does not think proper to go himself and treat with them in his own person. Thus a peace is generally concluded between contending nations, not by their kings in person, but by their plenipotentiaries, acting in their name, and by their authority ; and, while they keep to their instructions, their negotiations and agreements are as valid and authentic as if they were carried on and concluded by their masters in per- son. Thus the Lord Jesus Christ is not personally present in our world to manage the treaty of peace him- self, but he has appointed first his apostles, and then the ministers of the gospel through every age, to carry it on in his name. This is their proper character j they are ambassadors for Christ, his plenipotentiaries, fur- nished with a commission and instructions to make overtures of reconciliation to a rebel w^orld, and treat with them to gain their consent. Indeed, aspiring ecclesiastics have assumed high sounding titles merely to produce extravagant honors to themselves. They have called themselves the ambassa- dors of Christ, messengers from God, the plenipotentia- ries and vicero^^s of heaven, and I know not what, not with a design to do honor to their Master, but to keep the Avorld in a superstitious awe of themselves. This priestly pride and insolence I utterly abhor ; and yet I humbly adventure to assume the title of an ambassador of the great King of heaven, and require you to regard me in this high character : but then you must know, that while I am making this claim, I ov\ti myself obliged inviolably to adhere to the instructions of my divine Master contained in the Bible. I have no power over SINNERS ENTREATED TO EE RECONCILED TO GOD. 57 your faith, no power to dictate or prescribe ; but my work is only just to publish the articles of peace as my Master has established and revealed them in his word, without the least addition, diminution, or alteration. I pretend to no higher power than this, and this power I must claim, unless I would renounce my office ; for who can consistently profess himself a minister of Christ, without asserting his right and power to publish what his Lord has taught, and communicate his royal instruc- tions ( Therefore without usurping an equality with St. Paul, or his fellow apostles, I must tell you in his lan- guage, I appear among you this day as the ambassador of the most high God ; I am discharging an embassy for Christ ;* and I tell you this with no other design than to procure your most serious regard to what I say. If you consider it only as my declaration, whatever regard you pay to it, the end of my ministry will not be answered upon you. The end of my office is not to make myself the object of your love and veneration, but to reconcile you to God ; but you cannot be reconciled to God while you consider the proposal as made to you only by your fellow mortal. You must regard it as made to you by the Lord Jesus Christ, the great Mediator be- tween God and man. I not only allow, but even invite and charge you to inquire and judge whether what I say be agreeable to my divine instructions, which are as open to your inspection as mine, and to regard it no far- ther than it is so : but if I follow these instructions, and propose the treaty of peace to you just as it is conclud- ed in heaven, then I charge you to regard it as proposed by the Lord of heaven and earth, the King of kings, and Lord of lords, though through my unworthy lips. Con- sider yourselves this day as the hearers not of a preach- er formed out of the clay like yourselves, but of the Lord Jesus Christ. Suppose him here in person treat- ing with you about your reconciliation to God, and what regard you would pay to a proposal made by him in person, with all his divine royalties about him, that you should now show to the treaty I am to negotiate with you in his name and stead. ♦ This is the most literal translation of w peaPv vficp tri^ X^*'* 58 SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD, The next sentence in my text binds you still more strongly to this ; as though God did beseech you by us. As if he had said, " God the Father also concurs in this treaty of peace, as well as Christ the great Peace-maker ; and as we discharge an embassy for Christ, so we do also for God ; and you are to regard our beseeching and exhorting,* as though the great God did in person be- seech and exhort you by us," What astonishing con- descension is here intimated ! not that the ministers of Christ should beseech you ; this would be no mighty condescension : but that the supreme Jehovah should beseech you ; that he should not only command you with a stern air of authority as your Sovereign, but as a friend, nay, as a petitioner, should affectionately beseech you, you despicable, guilty worms, obnoxious rebels ! How astonishing, how God-like, how unprecedented and inimitable is this condescension ! Let heaven and earth admire and adore ! It is by us, indeed, by us your poor fellow mortals, that he beseeches : but 0 ! let not this tempt you to disregard him or his entreaty : though he employs such mean ambassadors, yet consider his dig- nity who sends us, and then you cannot disregard his message even from our mouth. The apostle, having thus prepared the way, proceeds to the actual exercise of his office as an ambassador for Christ : We pray you, says he, in Christ's stead, be ye re- conciled to God. As if he had said, " If Christ were now present in person among you, this is what he would pro- pose to you, and urge upon you, that you would be re- conciled to God : but him the heavens must receive till the time of the restitution of all things ; but he has left us his poor servants to officiate in his place as well as we can, and we would prosecute the same design, we would urge upon you what he would urge, were he to speak ; therefore we pray you, in his stead, be ye reconciled to God : we earnestly pray you to be reconciled ; that is the utmost which such feeble worms as we can do ; we can only pray and beg, but your compliance is not with- in the command of our power ; the compliance belongs to you 5 and remember, if you refuse, you must take ii upon yourselves, and answer the consequence." * cj«(5a*rX«i/r»c Signifies exhorting as well as beseeching SIN?xERS ENTREATED 1 J EE RECONCILED TO GOI». 59 Havinor thus explained the text, I proceed m my poor manner to exemplify it by negotiating the treaty with you for your reconciliation to God j and you see my business lies directly with such of you as are yet ene- mies to God : you are the only persons that stand in need of reconciliation. As for such of you (and I doubt not but there are such among you) whose innate enmi- ty has been subdued, and who are become the friends and subjects of the King of heaven after your guilty re- volt, I must desire you as it were to stand by yourselves for the present hour, and help me by your prayers, while I am speaking to your poor brethren, who still continue in that state of hostility and rebellion against God, in which you once were, and the miseries of which you well know, and still lament and deplore. But by this proposal I am afraid I have deprived my- self of hearers on this subject ; for have you not alrea- dy placed yourselves among the lovers of God, who consequently do not need to be reconciled to him 1 Is not every one of you ready to say to me, " If your busi- ness only lies with the enemies of God, you have no concern with me in this discourse 5 for, God forbid that I should be an enemy to him. I have indeed been guil- ty of a great m^any sins, but I had no bad design in them, and never had the least enmity against my Maker ; so far from it that I shudder at the very thought !" This is the first obstacle that I meet with in discharging my em- bassy ; the embassy itself is looked upon as needless by the persons concerned, like an attempt to reconcile those that are good friends already. This obstacle must be removed before we can proceed any farther. I am far from charging any of you with so horrid a crime as enmity and rebellion against God, who can produce satisfactory evidences to your OAvn conscience that you are his friends. I only desire that you would not flatter yourselves, nor draw a rash and groundless conclusion in an affair of such infinite moment, but that you would put the matter to a fair trial, according to evidence, and then let your conscience pass an impartial sentence as your judge, under the supreme Judge of the world. You plead " not guilty" to the charge, and alledge that you have always loved God ; but if this he the case, 60 SINNERS ENTREATED TO EE RECONCILED TO GOD. whence is it that you have afforded him so few of your affectionate and warm thoughts 1 Do not your tender- est thoughts d^vell upon the objects of your love 1 But has not your mind been shy of him who gave you your power of thinking 1 Have you not lived stupidly thoughtless of him for days and weeks together! Naj', have not serious thoughts of him been unwelcome, and made you uneasy 1 and have you not turned every way to avoid them 1 Have you not often prayed to him, and concurred in other acts of religious w^orship, and yet had but very few or no devout thoughts of him, even at the very time 1 And is that mind well affected towards him that is so averse to him, and turns every way to shun a glance of him 1 Alas ! is this your friendship for the God that made you, whose you are, and whom you ought to serve ! Would you not have indulged the fool's wish, that there were no God, had not the horror and impossibility of the thing restrained you 1 But, notwithstanding this restraint, has not this blasphemy shed its malignant poison at times in your hearts 1 If there was no God, then you would sin without control, and without dread of punish- ment ; and how sweet was this ! Then you would have nothing to do with that melancholy thing, religion ; and what an agreeable exemption would this be % But is this your love for him, to wish the Parent of all beings out of being ! Alas ! can the rankest enmity rise higher 1 Again, if you are reconciled to God, whence is it that you are secretly, or perhaps openly disaffected to his image, I mean the purity and strictness of his law, and the lineaments of holiness that appear upon the un- fashionable religious few 1 If you loved God, you would of course love everything that bears any resem- blance to him. But are you not conscious that it is otherwise with you ; that you murmur and cavil at the restraints of God's law, and would much rather abjure it, be free from it, and live as you list 1 Are you not con- scious that nothing exposes a man more to your secret disgust and contempt, and perhaps to your public mock- ery and ridicule, than a strict and holy walk, and a con- scientious observance of the duties of devotion 1 And if you catch your neighbor in any of these offences, do i|pt your hearts rise against hi|ii ? and what }s this but SINNERS ENTREATEP TO BE RECONCILED TO GOB i', I the effect of your enmity against God 1 Do you thus disgust a man for wearing the genuine image and re- semblance of your friend 1 No j the effect of love is quite the reverse. Again, If you do but reflect upon the daily sensations of your own minds, must you not be conscious that you love other persons and things more than God 1 that you love pleasure, honor, riches, your relations and friends, more than the glorious and ever blessed God 1 Look into your own hearts, and you will find it so ; you will find that this, and that, and a thousand things in this world, engross more of your thoughts, your cares, de- sires, joys, sorrows, hopes, and fears, than God, or any of his concerns. Now it is essential to the love of God that it be supreme. You do not love him truly at all, in the least degree, if you do not love him above all ; above all persons and things in the whole universe. He is a jealous God, and will not suffer a rival. A lower degree of love for supreme excellence is an aflront and indignity. Is it not therefore evident, even to your own conviction, that you do not love God at all 1 and what is this but to be his enemy 1 To be indifferent towards him, as though he were an insignificant being, neither good nor evil, a mere cipher ; to feel neither love nor hatred towards him, but to neglect him, as if you had no concern with him one way or other ; what a horrible disposition is this towards him, who is supremely and infinitely glorious and amiable, your Creator, your Sovereign, and Benefactor ; v/ho therefore deserves and demands your highest love ; or, in the words of his own law, that you should love him with all your hearty with all your soul, with all your ?nind, and with all your strength. Mark xii. 30. From what can such indifferency towards him proceed but from disaffection and enmity 1 It is in this way that the enmity of men towards God most generally discovers itself. They feel, perhaps, no positive workings of hatred towards him, unless when their innate corruption, like an exasperated serpent, is irritated by conviction from his law ; but they feel an apathy, a listlessness, an indifferency towards him ; and because they feel no more, they flatter themselves they are far from hating him ; especially as they may have very honorable speculative thoughts of him floating on 6 62 SINNERS ENTREATED TO BE RECONCILED TO GOD. the surface of their minds. But alas ! this very thing, this indifferency, or listless neutrality, is the very core of their enmity ; and if they are thus indifferent to him now, while enjoying so many blessings from his hand, and while he delays their punishment, how will their enmity swell and rise to all the rage of a devil against him, when he puts forth his vindictive hand and touches them, and so gives occasion to it to discover its venom 1 My soul shudders to think what horrid insurrections and direct rebellion this temper will produce when once irritated, and all restraints are taken off; which will be the doom of sinners in the eternal world ; and then they will have no more of the love of God in them than the most malignant devil in hell ! If, therefore, you gene- rally feel such an indifferency towards God, be assured you are not reconciled to him, but are his enemies in your hearts. Again, All moral evil, or sin, is contrary to God ; it is the only thing upon earth, or in hell, that is most opposite to his holy nature ; and the object of his im- placable and eternal indignation. He is of purer eyes than to behold it or endure it. It is his hatred to sin that has turned his heart against any of his creatures, and is the cause of all the vengeance that he has inflicted upon the guilty inhabitants of our world, or the spirits of hell. There is no object in the whole compass of the universe so odious to you as every sin is to a pure and all-holy God : now it is impossible you should at once love two things so opposite, so eternally irreconcilable. As much love as you have for any unlawful pleasure, just so much enmity there is in your hearts towards God. Hence, says St. Paul, you were enemies in your minds, by wicked works. Col. i. 21. Intimating that the love and practice of our wicked works is a plain evi- dence of inward enmity of mind towards God. The works of the flesh are sinful : hence, says the same apostle, the carnal mind, or the minding of the flesh, (},p.ATURE A.ND UA'IVPIUSALITV OF SPIRITUAL DEATH. a sight as this would strike terror into the hardiest heart among you. But what is this to a company of ra- tional spirits slain and dead in trespasses and sins % How deplorable and inexpressibly melancholy a sight this ! Therefore, 2. Awake thou that sleepest^ and arise from the dead, that Christ may give thee light. This call is directed to you, dead sinners ; which is a sufficient warrant for me to exhort and persuade you. The principle of reason is still alive in you ; you are also sensible of your own interest, and feel the workings of self-love. It is God alone that can quicken you, but he effects this by a power that does not exclude, but attends rational in- structions and persuasions to your understanding. Therefore, though I am sure you will continue dcivl still if left to yourselves, yet with some trembling hopes that his power may accompany my feeble words, and impreg- nate them with life, I call upon, I entreat, I charge you sinners to rouse yourselves out of your dead sleep, and seek to obtain spiritual life. Now, Vv^hile my voice sounds in your ears, now, this moment, waft up this prayer, " Lord, pity a dead soul, a soul that has been dead for ten, twenty, thirty, forty years or more, and lain corrupting in sin, and say unto me. Live : from this moment let me live unto thee." Let this prayer be still upon your hearts : keep your souls always in a suppli- cating posture, and who knows but that he, who raised Lazarus from the grave, may give you a spiritual resur- rection to a more important life 1 But if you wilfully continue your security, expect in a little time to suffer the second death; the mortification will become incura- ble ; and then, though you will be still dead to God, yet you will be " tremblingly alive all over" to the sensa- tions of pain and torture. O that I could gain but this one request of you, which your o^vn interest so strong- ly enforces ! but alas ! it has been so often refused, that to expect to prevail is to hope against hope. 3. Let the children of God be sensible of their great happiness in being made spiritually alive. Life is a prin- ciple, a capacity necessary for enjoyments of any kind. Without animal life you would be as incapable of animal pleasures as a stone or a clod ; and without spiritual life you can no more enjoy the happiness of heaven than a THE IMATURE AND PROCESS OF SPIRITUvil LIFE. 95 beast or a devil. This therefore is a preparative, a pre- vious qualification, and a sure pledge and earnest of everlasting life. How highly then are you distinguished, and what cause have you for gratitude and praise ! 4. Let us all be sensible of this important truth, tliat it is entirely by grace we are saved. This is the infer- ence the apostle expressly makes from tiiis doctrine : and he is so full of it, that he throws it into a parenthe- sis, (verse the 5th) though it breaks the connection of his discourse : and as soon as he has room he resumes it again, (verse 8th) and repeats it over and over, in va- rious forms, in the compass of a few verses. By grace ye are saved. By grace are you saved through faith. It is the gift of God ; — not of yourselves — not of works, (verse 9th.) This, you see, is an inference that seemed of great importance to the apostle ; and what can more na- turally follow from the premises 1 If we were once dead in sin, certainly it is owing to the freest grace that we have been quickened ; therefore, when we survey the change, let us cry, " Grace, grace unto it." SERMON V. THE NATURE AND PROCESS OF SPIRITUAL LIFE, Ephes. ii. 4-, 5. — But God^ ivho is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ. It is not my usual method to weary your attention by a long confinement to one subject ; and our religion fur- nishes us wdth such a boundless variety of important topics, that a minister who makes them his study will find no temptation to cloy you with repetitions, but rather finds it difficult to speak so concisely on one subject, as to leave room for others of equal importance ; however, the subject of my last discourse was so copious and interesting, that I cannot dismiss it without a sup- 96 THE NATURE Al^D PROCESS plement. I there showed you some of the symptoms of spiritual death ; but I would not leave you dead as I found you 5 and therefore I intend now to consider the counterpart of that subject, and show you the nature and symptoms of spiritual life. I doubt not but a number of you have been made alive to God by his quickening spirit ; but many, I fear, still continue dead in trespasses and sins ; and, while such are around me, I cannot help imagining my situation some- thing like that of the prophet Ezekiel (chap, xxxvii.) in the midst of the valley full of dry bones, spread far and wide around him : and should I be asked. Can these dry bones^ can these dead souls live ? I must answer with him, — 0 Lord God, thou knowest. Lord, I see no symp- toms of life in them, no tendency towards it. I know nothing is impossible to thee ; I firmly believe thou canst inspire them with life, dry and dead as they are ; and what thy designs are towards them, whether thou in- tendest to exert thy all-quickening power upon them, thou only knoAvest, and I would not presume to deter- mine ; but this I know, that, if they are left to them- selves, they will continue dead to all eternity ; for, O Lord, the experiment has been repeatedly tried ; thy servant has over and over made those quickening appli- cations to them, which thy word, that sacred dispensary, prescribes ; but all in vain : they still continue dead to- wards thee, and lie putrefying more and more in tres- passes and sins : however, at thy command, I would at- tempt the most unpromising undertaking ; I would pro- claim even unto dry bones and dead souls, 0 ye dry bones^ O ye dead souls, hear the word of the Lord. Ezek. xxxvii. 4<. I would also cry aloud for the animating breath of the Holy Spirit, Come from the four winds and breathe ; breathe upon these slain, that they may live, v. 9. Ye dead sinners, I would make one attempt more in the name of the Lord to bring you to life ; and if I have the least hope of success, it is entirely owing to the en- couraging peradventure that the quickening spirit of Christ may work upon your hearts while I am addressing myself to your ears. And, O sirs, let us all keep our souls in a praying posture, throughout this discourse. If one of you should fall into a swoon or an apoplexy, how would alJ about you bestir themselves to bring you to 01< SPIRITUAL LIFE. 97 life again ! And alas ! shall dead souls lie so thick among us, in every asscmbl}-, in every family; and shall no means be used for their recovery \ Did Martha and Mary apply to Jesus with all the arts of importunity in be- l-.alf of their sick and deceased brother, and are there not some of you that have dead relations, dear friends find neighbors, I mean dead in the worst sense, " dead in trespasses and sins 1" and will you not apply to Jesus, the Lord of life, and follow him with your importunate cries, till he come and call them to life 1 Now let pa- rents turn intercessors for their children, children for their parents, friend for friend, neighbor for neighbor, yea, enemy for enemy 0 ! should we all take this method, we might soon expect to see the valley of dry bones full of living souls, an exceeding great army. Ezek. xxxvii. 10. In praying for this great and glorious event, you do not pray for an impossibility. Thousands as dead as they, have obtained a joyful resurrection by the power of God. Here in my text you have an instance of a promiscuous crowd of Jews and Gentiles that had lain dead in sin together, and even St. Paul among them, who were recovered to life, and are now enjoying an immor- tal life in the heavenly regions; and, blessed be God, this spiritual life is not entirely extinct among us. Among the multitudes of dead souls that we every where meet with, we find here and there a soul that has very different symptoms : once indeed it was like the rest ; but now, while they are quite senseless of divine things, and have no vital aspirations after God, this soul cannot be content with the richest affluence of created enjoy- ments ; it pants and breathes after God ; it feeds upon his word, it feels an almighty energy in eternal things, and receives vital sensations from them. It discovers life and vigor in devotion, and serves the living God with pleasure, though it is also subject to fits of lan- guishment,* and at times seems just expiring, and to lose all sensation. And whence is this vast difference 1 Why is this soul so different from what it once was, and what thousands around still are 1 Why can it not, like them, and like itself formerly, lie dead and sense- less in sin, without any vital impressions or experiences from God or divine things ? The reason is. the happy 9 98 THE NATURE AKD PROCESS reason, my brethren, is, this is a living soul : " God, out of the great love wherewith he loved it, hath quickened it together with Christ," and hence it is alive to him. My present design is to explain the nature and pro- perties of this divine life, and to shoAV you the manner in which it is usually begun in the soul : I shall open with the consideration of the last particular. Here you must observe, that, though spiritual life is instantaneously infused, yet God prepares the soul for its reception by a course of previous operations. He spent six days in the creation of the world, though he might have spoken it into being in an instant. Thus he usually creates the soul anew after a gradual process of preparatory actions. In forming the first man, he first created chaos out of nothing, then he digested it into earth ; on the sixth day he formed and organized the earth into a body, with all its endless variety of members, juices, muscles, fibres, veins, and arteries ; and then, af- ter this process, he inspired it with a living soul ; and what was but a lump of clay, sprung up a perfect man. Thus also the foetus in the womb is for some months in formation before the soul, or the principle of life is in- fused. In like manner the Almighty proceeds in quick- ening us with spiritual life ; we all pass through a course of preparation, though some through a longer, and some shorter. And as one reason why the great Creator took up so much time in the creation of the world, probably was, that he might allow the angels time for leisurely surveys of the astonishing process, so he may advance thus gradually in the new creation, that we may observe the various steps of the operation, and make proper re- flections upon it in future life. My present design is to trace these steps to their grand result, that you may know whether ever divine grace has carried you through this gracious process. And that you may not fall into needless perplexities, it may be necessary for me to premise farther, that there is a great variety in these preparatory operations, and in the degrees of spiritual life. Indeed the difference is only circumstantial, for the work is substantially the same, and spiritual life is substantially the same in all ; but then, in such circumstances as the length of time, the particular external means, the degree of previous OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 99 terror, and of subsequent joy and vitality, &c. God ex- ercises a sovereign freedom, and shows that he has a variety of ways by which to accomplish his end ; and it is no matter how we obtain it, if we have but spiritual life. I shall therefore endeavor to confine myself to the substance of this work, without its peculiarities, in different subjects ; and, when I cannot avoid descending to particulars, I shall endeavor so to diversify them, as that they may be easily adapted to the various cases of different Christians. To draw their common lineaments, whereby they may be distinguished from all others, is sufficient to my present purpose : whereas, to draw the particular lineaments, or peculiar features, whereby they may be distinguished from one another, is a very diffi- cult task, and cannot be of any great service to what I have now in design. I have only one thing more to premise, and that is, that the way by which divine grace prepares a sinner for spiritual life, is by working upon all the principles of the rational life, and exciting him to exert them to the utmost to obtain it. Here it is proper for you to recol- lect what I observed in my last discourse, that even a sinner dead in trespasses and sins is alive, and capable of action in other respects : he can not only perform the actions and feel the sensations of animal life, but he can also exercise his intellectual powers about intellectual objects, and even about divine things : he is capable of thinking of these, and of receiving some impressions from them : he is also capable of attending upon the or- dinances of the gospel, and performing the external du- ties of religion. These things a sinner may do, and yet be dead in sin. Indeed he will not exercise his natural powers about these things while left to himself : he has the power, but then he has no disposition to employ it : he is indeed capable of meditating upon spiritual things, but what does this avail when he will not turn his mind to such objects 1 or if he does, he considers them as mere speculations, and not as the most interesting and important realities. How few, or how superficial and unaffecting are a sinner's thoughts of them ! Heaven and hell are objects that may strike the passions, and raise the joys and fears of a natural man, but in general he is little or nothing impressed with them. He is ca- too THE NATURE AND PROCESS pable of prayer, hearing, and using the means of grace ; but I beheve, if you make observations upon the con- duct of mankind, that you will find they are but seldom employed in these duties, or that they perform them in such a careless manner, that they have no tendency to answer the end of their institution. In siiort, the more 1 know of mankind, I have the lower opinion of what they will do in religion when left to themselves. They have a natural power, and we have seen all possible means used with them to excite them to put it forth ; but alas ! all is in vain, and nothing will be done to pur- pose till God stir them up to exert their natural abili- ties ; and this he performs as a preparative for spiritual life. He brings the sinner to exert all his active powers in seeking this divine principle : nature does her utmost, and all outward means are tried before a supernatural principle is implanted. The evangelist John has given us the history of the resurrection of the dead body of Lazarus after it had been four days in the grave ; and I would now give you the history of a more glorious resurrection, the resurrec- tion of a soul that had lain dead for months and years, and yet is at last quickened by the same almighty power with a divine and immortal life. Should I exemplify it by a particular instance, I might fix upon this or that person in this assembly, and remind you, and inform others, of the process of this work in your souls. And O ! how happy are such of you, that you may be produced as instances in this case ! You lay for ten, twenty, thirty years, or more, dead in trespasses and sins ; you did not breathe and pant like a living soul after God and holiness ; you had little more sense of the burden of sin than a corpse of the pressure of a mountain ; you had no appetite for the living bread that came down from heaven ; the vital pulse of sacred passions did not beat in your hearts towards God and divine things, but you lay putrefying in sin , filthy lusts preyed upon you like worms on the bodies of the dead ; you spread the contagion of sin around you by your conversation and example, like the stench and corrupt effluvia of a rotten carcass ; you were odious and abomi- nable to God, fit to be shut up in the infernal pit, out of his sight : and you were objects of horror and lamenta- OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 101 tion to all that knew and daily considered your case, your deplorable case. During this time many quicken- ing applications were made to you ; you had friends that used all means to bring you to life again ; but alas ! all in vain ; conscience proved your friend, and pierced and chafed you, to bring you to some feeling, but you remained still senseless, or the symptoms of life soon vanished. God did not cast you away as irrecoverably dead, but stirred and agitated you within, and struggled long with the principles of death to subdue them : and if it was your happy lot to live under a faithful ministry, the living oracles that contain the seeds of the divine life were applied to you with care and solicitude. The ter- rors of the Lord were thundered in your ears to awaken you. The experiment of a Savior's dying love, and the rich grace of the gospel, vrere repeatedly tried upon you : novv' you were carried within hearing of the hea- venly music, and within sight of the glories of Paradise, to try if these would charm you ; now you were, as it were, held over the flames of hell, that they might by their pungent pains scorch and startle you into life. Providence also concurred with these applications, and tried to recover you by mercies and judgments, sickness and health, losses and possessions, disappointments and successes, threatenings and deliverances. If it was your unhappy lot to lie among dead souls like yourself, you had indeed but little pity from them, nay, they and Satan were plying you with their opiates and poison to confirm the deadly sleep. And O ! how astonishing is it that you should be quickened in a charnel-house, in the mansions of the dead, with dead souls lying all around you! But if it was your happiness to be in the soci- ety of the living, they pitied you, they stirred and agi- tated you with their warnings and persuasions, they, like Martha and Mary in behalf of their deceased brother, v.-ent to Jesus with their cries and importunities, " Lord, my child, my parent, my servant, my neighbor is dead, O come and restore him to life ! Lord, if thou hadst been here, he would not have died ; but even now I know it is not too late for thee to raise him." Thus, when one is dead in our heavenly Father's family, the whole house should be alarmed, and all the domes- tics be busy in trying to bring him to life again. But, 9* 102 THE NATURE AND PROCESS 0 ! reflect with shame and sorrow how long all these quickening applications were in vain ; you still lay in a dead sleep, or, if at times you seemed to move, and gave us hopes you were coming to life again, you soon re- lapsed, and grew as senseless as ever. And alas ! are there not some of you in this condition to this very mo- ment 1 O deplorable sight ! May the hour come, and O that this may be the hour, in which such dead souls shall Ilea?- the voice of the So?i of God, and live. John v. 25. But as to such of you in whom I Vv^ould exemplify this history of a spiritual resurrection, when your case wa&^ thus deplorable, and seemingly helpless, the happy hour, the time of love came, when you must live. When all these applications had been unsuccessful, the all-quick- ening spirit of God had determined to exert more of his energy, and work more eflectually upon you. Perhaps a verse in your Bible, a sentence in a sermon, an alarm- ing Providence, the conversation of a pious friend, or something that unexpectedly occurred to yovir own thoughts, first struck your minds with unusual force ; you found you could not harden yourselves against it as you Avere wont to do ; it was attended with a power you never before had felt, and which you could not resist: this made you thoughtful and pensive, and turned your minds to objects that you were wont to neglect ; this made you stand and pause, and think of the state of your neglected souls ; you began to fear matters were wrong with you ; " What will become of me when 1 leave this world ( Where shall I reside for ever ? Am I prepared for the eternal world \ How have I spent my life (" These, and the like inquiries put you to a stand, and you could not pass over them so superficially as you were wont to do ; your sins now appeared to you in a new light ; you were shocked and surprised at their ma- lignant nature, their number, their aggravations, and their dreadful consequences. The great God, Avhom you were wont to neglect, appeared to you as a Being that demanded your regard ; you saw he was indeed a vene- rable, awful, majestic Being, with whom you had the most important concern: in short, you saw that such a life as you had led would never bring you to heaven: you saw you must make religion more your business than you had ever done, and hereupon you altered your OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 103 former course : you broke off from several of your vices, you deserted your extravagant company, and you began to frequent the throne of grace, to study religion, and to attend upon its institutions ; and this you did with some degree of earnestness and solicitude. When you were thus reformed, you began to flatter yourselves that you had escaped out of your dangerous condition, and secured the divine favor : now you began to view yourselves Avith secret self-applause as true Christians ; but all this time the reformation was only outward, and there was no new principle of a divine supernatural life implanted in your hearts : you had not the generous passions and sensations of living souls to- wards God, but acted entirely from natural, selfish prin- ciples : you had no clear heart-affecting views of the intrinsic evil, and odious nature of sin, considered in it- self, nor of the entire universal corruption of your na- ture, and the necessity not only of adorning your outer man by an external reformation, but of an inward change of heart by the almighty power of God : you were not deeply sensible of the extent and spirituality of the di- vine law, nor of the infinite purity and inexorable justice of the Deity : you had no love for religion and virtue for their own sakes,but only on account of their happy con- sequences. Indeed your love of novelty and a regard to your own happiness might so work upon you, for a time, that you might have very raised and delightful passions in religious duties; but all your religion at that time was a mere system of selfishness, and you had no gene- rous disinterested delight in holiness for its own excel- lency, nor did you heartily relish the strictness of pure, living religion : you were also under the government of a self-righteous spirit : your own good works were the ground 'of your hopes, and you had no relish for the mortifying doctrine of salvation through the mere mercy of God and the righteousness of Jesus Christ : though your education taught you to acknowledge Christ /is the only Savior, and ascribe all your hopes to his death, yet in reality he was of very little importance in your reli- gion ; he had but little place in your heart and affections, even when you urged his name as your only plea at the throne of grace : in short, you had not the spirit of the gospel, nor any spiritual life within you. And tl.i^ -sail 104 THE NATURE AND PROCESS the religion with which multitudes are cojitented . with this they obtain a name that they live ; but in the sight of God, and in reality, they are dead j and had you been suffered to rest here, according to your own desire, you would have been dead still. But God, who is rich (O how inconceivably rich !) in mercy, for the great love wherew^ith he loved you, re- solved to carry on his work in you ; and therefore, while you were flattering yourselves, and elated w^ith a proud conceit of a happy change in your condition, he sur- prised you with a very different view of your case ; he opened your eyes farther, and then you saw, you felt those things of which, till then, you had but little sense or apprehension ; such as the corruption of your hearts, the awful strictness of the divine law, your utter inability to yield perfect obedience, and the necessity of an inward change of the inclinations and relishes of your soul. These, and a great many other things of a like nature, broke in upon your minds with striking evidence and a kind of almighty energy ; and now you saw you were still " dead in sin," weak, indisposed, averse towards spiritual things, and "dead in law," condemned to ever- lasting death and misery by its righteous sentence : now you set about the duties of religion with more earnest- ness than ever ; now" you prayed, you heard, and used the other means of grace as for your life, for you saw that your eternal life w^as indeed at stake; and now, when you put the matter to a thorough trial, you were more sensible than ever of your ow^n weakness, and the difficulties in your way. " 0 ! who would have thought my heart had been so depraved that it should thus fly off from God, and struggle, and reluctate against returning to him \ " Such was then your language. Alas ! you found yourselves quite helpless, and all your efforts fee- ble and ineffectual : then you perceived yourselves real- ly dead in sin, and that you must continue so to all eter- nity, unless quickened by a power infinitely superior to your own : not that you lay slothful and inactive at this time ; no, never did you exert yourselves so vigorously in all your life, never did you besiege the throne of grace with such earnest importunity, never did you hear and read with such eager attention, or make such a vigorous resistance against sin and temptation: all your natural OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 105 powers were exerted to the higliest pitch, for now you saw your case required it : but you found all your most vigorous endeavors insufficient, and you were sensible that, without the assistance of a superior power, the work of religion could never be eflected. Now you were reduced very low indeed. While you imagined you could render yourselves safe by a reform- ation in your own power, you were not much alarmed at your condition, though you saw it bad. But O ! to feel yourseh^es dead in sin, and that you cannot help your- selves ; to see yourselves in a state of condemnation, liable to execution everj^ moment, and yet to find all your own endeavors utterly insufficient to relieve you ; to be obliged, after all you had done, to lie at mercy, and confess that you were as deservinof of everlasting- punishment as ever the most notorious criminal was of the stroke of public justice ; this was a state of extreme dejection, terror, and anxiety indeed. The proud, self- confident creature was never thoroughly mortified and humbled till now, Avhen he is slain by the law, and en- tirely cut off from all hopes from himself. And now, finding you could not save yourselves, you began to cast about you, and look out for another to save you : now you were more sensible than ever of the ab- solute need of Jesus 5 and you cried and reached after him, and stirred up yourselves to take hold of him. The gospel brought the free ofier of him to your ears, and you would fain have accepted of him ; but here new dif- ficulties arose. Alas ! you did not think yourselves good enough to accept of him, and hence you took a great deal of fruitless pains to make yourselves better : you also found your hearts strangely averse to the gospel- method of salvation, and, though a sense of your neces- sity made you try to work up yourselves to an approba- tion of it, yet you could not affectionately acquiesce in *t, and cordially relish it. And now, how melancholy was your situation ! You were " shut up to the faith ; " Gal. iii. 23 ; there was no other possible way of escape, and yet, ala« ! you could not take this way : now you were ready to cry, " I am cut ofi'; my strength and my hope are perished from the Lord ; " but, blessed be God, he did not leave you in this condition. Man's extremity of distress is 106 THE NATURE AND PROCESS God's opportunity for relief and salvation ; and so you found it. Now the process of preparatory operations is just come to a result. Now it is time for God to work, for nature has done her utmost, and has been found utterly insufficient ; now it is proper a divine supernatural prin- ciple should be infused, for all the principles of nature have failed, and the proud sinner is obliged to own it, and stand still, and see the salvation of God. In this situation you wanted nothing but such a divine principle to make you living Christians indeed. These prepara- tives were like the taking away the stone from the se- pulchre of Lazarus, which was a prelude of that almighty voice which called him from the dead. Noav you ap- pear to me like the dry bones in Ezekiel's vision in one stage of the operation. After there had been a noise, and a shaking among them, and the bones had come to- gether, bone to his bone ; I beheld^ says he, and lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin cov- ered them above ; but there was no breath in them ; Ezek. xxxvii. 8 ; this was all that was wanting to make them living men. In like manner you, at this time, had the external appearance of Christians, but you had no divine supernatural life in you ; you v/ere but the fair carcasses of Christians ; your religion had a body completely form- ed, but it had no soul in it ; and, had the holy Spirit now given over his work, you would have continued dead still. But now the important crisis is come, when he who stood over the grave of Lazarus, and pronounced the life-restoring mandate, Lazarus^ come forth I when he who breathed into Adam the breath of life, and made him a living soul ; I say, noAv the crisis is come, when he will implant the principles of life in your souls ; sud- denly you feel the amazing change, and find you are act- ing from principles entirely new to you ; for now your hearts that were wont to reluctate, and start back from God, rise to him with the strongest aspirations : now the way of salvation through Christ, which you could never relish- before, appears all amiable and glorious, and captivates your whole souls. Holiness has lovely and powerful charms, which captivate you to the most wil ling obedience, notwithstanding your former disgust t it J and, though once you were enamored with sin, OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 107 disliked it only because you could not indulge it with impunity, it now appears to you a mere mass of corrup- tion and deformity, an abominable thing, which you hate above all other things on earth or in hell. At this junc- ture you were animated with a new life in every faculty of your souls, and hereupon you felt the instincts, the appetites, the sympathies and antipathies of a new life, a divine life, justly styled by the apostle the life of God ; the life of God in the soul of man. The pulse of sacred passions began to beat towards spiritual objects ; the vital warmth of love spread itself through your whole frame ; you breathed out your desires and prayers be- fore God ; like a new-born infant you began to cry after him, and at times you have learned to lisp his name with filial endearment, and cry Mba Father ; you hungered and thirsted after righteousness, and as every kind of life must have its proper nourishment, so your spiritual life fed upon Christ, the living bread, and the sincere milk of his word. You also felt a new set of sensations ; divine things now made deep and tender impressions upon you ; the great realities of religion and eternity now affected you in a manner unknown before ; you likewise found your souls actuated with life and vigor in the service of God, and in the duties you owed to mankind. This strange alteration no doubt filled you with surprise and amazement, something like that of Adam when he found himself start into life out of his eternal non-existence. With these new sensations everything appeared to you in a quite different light, and you coulif not but wonder that you had never perceived them in that manner before. Thus, my dear brethren, when you were even dead in sin, God quickened you together with Christ. It is true, the principle of life might be very weak at first, like the life of a new-born infant, or a foetus just animated in the womb ; nay, it may be but very weak still, and at times may languish, and seem just expiring in the agonies of death ; but, blessed be the quickening Spirit of Christ, since the happy hour of your resurrection you have ne- ver been, and you never will be to all eternity, what you once were, "dead in trespasses and sins." Should I give you your own history since that time, it would be to this purpose, and you will discern many symptoms of 108 THE NATUE£ AND PROCESS life in it. You have often known what sickness of soul is, as well as of body ; and sometimes it has risen to such a height as to endanger your spiritual life The seeds of sin, that still lurk in your constitution, like the principles of death, or a deadly poison circulating through your veins, have often struggled for the mastery, and cast you into languishing or violent disorders j then was the divine life oppressed, and you could not freely draw the breath of prayer and pious desires ; you lost the appetite for the word of God, and what you received did not di- gest well and turn to kindly nourishment ; the pulse of sacred passions beat faint and irregular, the vital heat decayed, and you felt a death-like cold creeping upon you and benumbing you. Sometimes you have been afflicted, perhaps, with convulsions of violent and out- rageous passions, with the dropsy of insatiable desires after things below, with the lethargy of carnal security, or the fever of lust : at other times you have felt an universal disorder through your whole frame, and you hardly knew what ailed you, only you were sure your souls were not well ; but perhaps your most common disorder that seizes j^ou is a kind of consumption, a lowness of spirits, a languor and weakness, the want of appetite for your spiritual food, or perhaps a nausea and disgust towards it ; you also live in a country very un- wholesome to living souls ; you dwell among the dead, and catch contagion from the conversation of those around you, and this heightens the disorder : and fur- ther, that old serpent the devil labors to infect you with his deadly poison, and increase the peccant humors by his temptations : at such times you can hardly feel any workings of spiritual life in you, and you fear you are entirely dead ; but examine strictly, and you will disco- ver some vital symptoms even in this bad habit of soul; for does not your new nature exert itself to work off the disorder 1 Are not your spirits in a ferment, and do you not feel yourselves in exquisite pain, or at least greatly uneasy 1 Give all the world to a sick man, and he des- pises it all : " O give me my health," says he, " or you give me nothing." So it is with you ; nothing can con- tent you while your souls are thus out of order. Do you not long for their recovery, that you may go about your business again ; I mean that you may engage in the ser- OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. 109 vice of God with all the vigor of health 1 and do you not apply to Christ as your only physician in this condition 1 And 0 ! what an healing balm is his blood ! what a reviv- ing cordial is his love ! and how kindly does his Spirit purge off the corrupt humors, and subdue the principles of sin and death ! Has not experience taught you the meaning of the apostle, when he says, Christ is our life : and / live, yet not /, hut Christ liveth in me, Gal. ii. 20. Do you not perceive that Christ is your vital head, and that you revive or languish just as he communicates or withholds his influence % And have you not been taught in the same way what is the meaning of that expression so often repeated. The just shall live by faith ? Hab. ii. 4. Do you not find that faith is, as it were, the grand artery by which you derive life from Christ, and by which it is circulated through your whole frame ; and that when faith languishes, then you weaken, pine away, and per- haps fall into a swoon, as though you were quite dead % Are you not careful of the health of your souls 1 You endeavor to keep them warm with the love of God : you shun those sickly regions as far as you can, where the example and conversation of the wicked spread their deadly infection, and you love to dwell among living souls, and breathe in their wholesome air. Upon the whole, it is evident, notwithstanding your frequent in- dispositions, you have some life within you : life takes occasion to show itself even from your disorders. It is a plain symptom of it, that you have something within you that makes such a vigorous resistance against the principles of sin and death, and throws your whole frame into a ferment, till it has wrought off the distemper. In short, you have the sensations, the sympathies and an- tipathies, the pleasuren and pains of living souls. And is it so indeed 1 Then from this moment begin to rejoice and bless the Lord, who raised you to spiritual life. O let the hearts he has quickened beat with his love ; let the lips he has opened, when quivering in death, speak his praise, and devote that life to him which he has given you, and which he still supports ! Consider what a divine and noble kind of life he has given you. It is a capacity and aptitude for the most exalted and divine services and enjoyments. Now you have a relish for the Supreme Good as your happiness, 10 110 THE NATURE AND PROCESS the only proper food for your immortal souls, and he will not suffer you to hunger and thirst in vain, but will satisfy the appetites he has implanted in your nature. You have some spirit and life in his service, and are not like the dead souls around you, tha+ are all alive towards other objects, but absolutely dead towards him : you have also noble and exalted sensations ; you are capable of a set of pleasures of a more refined and sublime nature than what are relished by groveling sinners. From your inmost souls you detest and nauseate whatever is mean, base, and abominable, and you can feast on what is pure, amiable, excellent, and worthy of your love. Your vitiated taste for trash and poison is cured, and you feed upon heavenly bread, upon food agreeable to the consti- tution of your spiritual nature j and hence you may in- fer your meetness for the heavenly world, that region of perfect vitality. You have a disposition for its enjoy- ments and services, and this is the grand preparative God will not encumber the heaven of his glory with dead souls, nor infect the pure salubrious air of paradise with the poison of their corruption : but the everlasting doors are always open for living souls, and not one of them shall ever be excluded ; nay, the life of heaven is already within you j the life that reigns with immortal health and vigor above, is the very same with that which works m your breasts ; only there it is arrived to ma- turity and perfection, and here it is in its rudiments and weakness. Your animal life, wdiich was hardly perceiv- able in the womb, was the very same with that which now possesses you, only now it is come to perfection. Thus you are now angels in embryo, the fcEtus (might I be allowed the expression) of glorified immortals j and when you are born out of the womb of time into the eternal world, this feeble spark of spiritual life will kindle and blaze, and render you as active and vigorous as " the rapt seraph that adores and burns." Then you will fear no more weakness, no more languors, no more qualms of indisposition ; the poison of temptation, and the contagion of bad example cannot reach you there ; and the inward seeds of sickness and death will be purged entirely out of your soul : you will be got quite out of the sickly country, and breathe a pure reviving air, the natural element of your souls. There you will find the OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. Ill fountain, yea, whole rivers of the waters of life, of which you will drink in large draughts for ever and ever, and which will inspire yon with immortal life and vigor. O how happy are you in this single gift of spi- ritual life ! this is a life that cannot perish, even in the ruins of the world. What though you must ere long yield your mortal bodies and animal life to death and rottenness 1 your most important life is immortal, and subject to no such dissolution : and therefore be coura- geous in the name of the Lord, and bid defiance to all the calamities of life, and all the terrors of death ; for your life is hid with Christ in God ; and when Christy who is your life^ shall appear^ then shall you also appear with him in glory. Col. iii. 3, 4. I w^ould willingly go on in this strain, and leave the pulpit with a relish of these delightful truths upon my spirit ; but, alas ! I must turn my address to another set of persons in this assembly ; but " where is the Lord God of Elijah," who restored the Shunamite's son to life by means of that prophet \ I am going to call to the dead, and I know they will not hear, unless he attend my feeble voice with his almighty power. I would pray over you like Elijah over the dead child, 0 Lord God, let this sinner'' s life come into him again. 1 Kings xvii. 21. Are not the living and the dead promiscuously blended in this assembly \ Here is a dead soul, there another, and there another all over the house ; and here and there a few living souls thinly scattered among them. Have you ever been carried through such a preparatory process as I have described \ or if you are uncertain about this, as some may be who are animated with spiritual life, inquire, have you the feelings, the appe- tites and aversions, the pleasing and the painful sensa- tions of living souls 1 Methinks conscience breaks its silence in some of you, whether you will or not, and cries, " 0 no : there is not a spark of life in this breas\." Well, my poor deceased friends, (for so I may call you) I hope you will seriously attend to what I am going seriously to say to you. I have no bad design upon you, but only to restore you to life. And though your case is really discouraging, yet I hope it is not quite desperate. The principles of nature, reason, self- love, joy, and fear, are still alive in you, and you are ca- 112 NATURE AND PROCE^S OF SPIRITUAL LIFE. pable of some application to divine tilings. And, as 1 told you, it is upon the principles of nature that God is wont to work, to prepare the soul for the infusion of a supernatural life. And these I would now work upon, in hopes you are not proof against considerations of the greatest weight and energy ; I earnestly beg you would lay to heart such things as these. Can you content yourselves with an animal life, the life of beasts, with that superfluity, reason, just to ren- der you a more ingenious and self-tormenting kind of brutes ; more artful in gratifying your sordid appetites, and yet still uneasy for want of an unknown something ; a care that the brutal world, being destitute of reason, are unmolested with 1 O! have you no ambition to be animated with a divine immortal life, the life of God 1 Can you be contented with a mere temporal life, when your souls must exist for ever 1 That infinite world be- yond the grave is replenished with nothing but the ter- rors of death to you, if you are destitute of spiritual life. And O ! can you bear the thought of residing among its grim and ghastly terrors for ever 1 Are you contented to be cut off from God, as a mor- tified member from the body, and to be banished for ever from all the joys of his presence ] You cannot be admitted to heaven without spiritual life. Hell is the sepulchre for dead souls, and thither you must be sent, if you still continue dead. And does not this thought affect you l Consider, also, now is the only time in which you can be restored to life. And 0 ! will you let it pass by without improvement 1 Shall all the means that have been used for your revi- val be in vain 1 Or the strivings of the Spirit, the alarms of your own consciences, the blessings and chas- tisements of Providence, the persuasions, tears, and la- mentations of your living friends ; O ! shall all these be in vain 1 Can you bear the thouorht 1 Surely, no. There- lore, 0 heave and struggle to burst the chains of death ! Cry mightily to God to quicken you. Use all the means of vivification, and avoid every deadly and contagious thing. I know not, my brethren, how this thought will affect ua at parting to-day, that we have left behind us many a CONTRITE SPIRITS THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOR. 113 dead soul. But suppose we should leave as many bod- ies here behind us as there are dead souls among us ; suppose every sinner destitute of spiritual life should now be struck dead before us, 0 how would this floor be overlaid with dead corpses ! How few of us would escape ! What bitter lamentations and tears would be among us ! One would lose a husband or a wife, anoth- er a friend or a neighbor. And have we hearts to mourn, and tears to shed over such an event as this, and have we no compassion for dead souls % Is there none to mourn over them 1 Sinners, if you will still continue dead, there are some here to-day who part w^ith you with this wish, 0 that my head were waters^ and mine eyes fountains of tears ^ that I might weep day and ?iight for the slain of the daughter of my people. And O that our mournings may reach the Lord of life, and that you might be quickened from your death in trespasses and sins ! Amen and Amen. SERMON VI. POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS THE OBJECTS OF THE DIVINE FAVOR. IsAiAH Ixvi. 2. — To this man will I look ; even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit^ and trembleth at my word. As we consist of animal bodies as well as immortal souls, and are endowed with corporeal senses as well as rational powers, God, who has wisely adapted our reli- gion to our make, requires bodily as well as spiritual worship ; and commands us not only to exercise the in- ward powers of our minds in proper acts of devotion, but also to express our inward devotion by suitable ex- ternal actions, and to attend upon him in the sensible outward ordinances which he has appointed. Thus it is 10* ] 14 POOR AND CONTRITE SPTEITS under the gospel ; but it was more remarkably so under the law, which, compared with the pure and spiritual worship of the gospel, was a system of carnal ordinan- ces, and required a great deal of external pomp and grandeur, and bodily services. Thus a costly and mag- nificent structure was erected, by divine direction, in the wilderness, called the tabernacle, because built in the form of a tent, and moveable from place to place ; and afterwards a most stately temple w^as built by Solo- mon, with immense cost, where the divine worship should be statedly celebrated, and where all the males of Israel should solemnly meet for that purpose three times in a year. These externals were not intended to exclude the in- ternal worship of the spirit, but to express and assist it. And these ccrmonials were not to be put into the place of morals, but observed as helps to the practice of them, and to prefigure the great Messiah : Even under the Mosaic dispensation, God had the greatest regard to holiness of heart and a good life 5 and the strictest ob- server of ceremonies could not be accepted without them. But it is natural to degenerate mankind to mvert the order of things, to place a part, the easiest and meanest part of religion, for the whole of it, to rest in the exter- nals of religion as sufficient, without regarding the heart, and to depend upon pharisaical strictness in ceremonial observances, as an excuse or atonement for neglecting the weighter matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith. This was the unhappy error of the Jews in Isaiah's time ; and this the Lord would correct in the fiirst verses of this chapter. The Jews gloried in their having the house of God among them, and were ever trusting in vain words, say- ing. The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the tem- ple of the Lord are these. Jer. vii. 4. They filled his al- tars with costly sacrifices ; and in these they trusted to make atonement for sin, and secure the divine favor. As to their sacrifices God lets them know, that while they had no regard to their morals, 'uut chose their own ways, and their souls delighted in their abominations, while they presented them in a formal manner, without THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOR. 115 the fire of divine love, their sacrifices were so far from procuring his acceptance, that they were odious to him. He abhors their most expensive offerings as abominable and profane. He that kiUeth an ox for sacrifice is as far from being accepted as if he unjustly slew a man ; he that sacrificeth a lamb, as if he cut off a dog's neck^ S)'e. Isaiah Ixvi. 3. To remove this superstitious confidence in the temple, the Lord informs them that he had no need of it ; that, large and magnificent as it was, it was not fit to contain him ; and that, in consecrating it to him, they should not proudly think that they had given him anything to which he had no prior right. " Thus saith the Lord, the heaven is my throne, where I reign conspicuous in the visible majesty and grandeur of a God ; and though the earth is not adorned with such illustrious displays of my immediate presence, though it does not shine in all the glory of my royal palace on high, yet it is a little pro- vince in my immense empire, and subject to my autho- rity ; it is my footstool. If, then, heaven is my throne, and earth is my footstool ; if the whole creation is my kingdom, where is the house that ye build unto me 1 where is your temple which appears so stately in your eyes \ it is vanished, it is sunk into nothing. Is it able to contain that infinite Being to whom the whole earth is but an humble footstool, and the vast heaven but a throne 1 Can you vainly imagine that my presence can be confined to you in the narrow bounds of a tem- ple, when the heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain me 1 Where is the place of my rest ] can you provide a place for my repose, as though I were weary 1 or can my presence be restrained to one place, incapa- ble of acting beyond the prescribed limits 1 No ; infi- nite space only can equal my being and perfections ; in- finite space only is a sufficient sphere for my operations. " Can you imagine you can bribe my favor, and give me something I had no right to before, by all the stately buildings you can rear to my name 1 Is not universal nature mine 1 For all these things hath mine hand made out of nothing, and all these things have been or still subsist by the support of my all-preserving hand, and what right can be more valid and inalienable than that founded upon creation ] Your silver and gold are mine 116 POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS and mine the cattle upon a thousand hills ; and therefore of mine own do you give me, saith the Lord." These are such majestic strains of language as are ■worthy a God. Thus it becomes him to advance him- self above the whole creation, and to assert his absolute property in, and independency upon, the universe. Had he only turned to us the bright side of his throne, that dazzles us with insufferable splendor j had he only displayed his majesty unallayed with grace and conde- scension in such language as this, it would have over- whelmed us, and cast us into the most abject despon- dency, as the outcasts of his providence, beneath his notice. We might fear he would overlook us with ma- jestic disdain, or careless neglect, like the little things that are called great by mortals, or as the busy emmets of our species are apt to do. In the hurry of business they are liable to neglect, and in the power of pride and grandeur to overlook or disdain their dependents. We should be ready, in hopeless anxiety, to say, " Is all this earth which to us appears so vast, and which is parcel- ed into a thousand mighty kingdoms, as we call them, is it all but the humble footstool of God 1 hardly wor- thy to bear his feet 1 What then am 1 1 an atom of an atom-world, a trifling individual of a trifling race. Can I expect he will take any notice of such an insignificant thing as I \ The vast afiairs of heaven and earth lie upon his head, and he is employed in the concerns of the wide universe, and can he find leisure to concern him- self with me, and my little interests ] Will a king, de- liberating upon the concerns of nations, interest himself in favor of the worm that craAvls at his footstool l If the magnificent temple of Solomon was unworthy of the divine inhabitant, will he admit me into his presence, and give me audience 1 how can I expect it 1 It seems daring and presumptuous to hope for such condescen- sion. And shall I then despair of the gracious regard of my Maker 1" No, desponding creature ! mean and unworthy as thou art, hear the voice of divine condescension, as well as of majesty : 7b this man will I look^ even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and that trembleth at my word. Though God dwelleth not in temples made with hands, though he pours contempt upon princes, and scorns THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOR. H? tbem in all their haughty glory and affected majesty, yet there are persons whom his gracious eye will regard. The high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, and dwelleth in the high and holy place, he will look down through all the shining ranks of angels upon — whom 1 Not on the proud, the haughty and presumptuous, but upon him that is poor and of a contrite spirit^ and trembleth at his word. To this man will he look from the throne of his majesty, however Ioav, however mean he may be. This man is an object that can, as it were, attract his eyes from all the glories of the heavenly world, so as to regard an humble, self-abasing worm. This man can never be lost or overlooked among the multitudes of creatures, but the eyes of the Lord will discover him in the greatest crowed, his eyes will graciously fix upon this man, this particular man, though there were but one such in the compass of the creation, or though he w^ere banished into the remotest corner of the universe, like a diamond in a heap of rubbish, or at the bottom of the ocean. Do you hear this, you that are poor and contrite in spirit, and that tremble at his word '\ ye that, above all others, are most apt to fear you shall be disregarded by him, because you, of all others, are most deeply sensible how unworthy you are of his gracious notice : God, the great, the glorious, the terrible God, looks down upon you with eyes of love, and by so much the more affec- tionately, by how much the lower you are in your own esteem. Does not your heart spring within you at the sound 1 Are you not lost in pleasing wonder and grati- tude, and crying out, " Can it be 1 can it be % is it in- deed possible 1 is it true V Yes, you have his own word for it, and do you not think it too good news to be xrue, but believe, and rejoice, and give glory to his name ; and fear not what men or devils can do unto you. This, my brethren, is a matter of universal concern. It is the interest of each of us to know whether we are thus graciously regarded by that God on whom our very being and all our happiness entirely depend. And how shall we know this 1 In no other way than by discover- ing whether w^e have the characters of that happy man to whom he condescends to look. These are not pomp- 118 POOR AND CONTRITE SPIRITS ous and high characters, they are not formed by earthly riches, learning, glory, and power : But to this man wilt I look, saith the Lord, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, a?id that trembleth at my word. Let us in- quire into the import of each of the characters. L It is the poor man to whom the Majesty of heaven condescends to look. This does not principally refer to those that are poor in this world ; for, though it be very common that " the poor of this world are chosen to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom ; " James ii. 5 ; yet this is not a universal rule ; for many, alas ! that are poor in this world are not rich towcirds God, nor rich in good works, and therefore shall famish through eternity in remedi- less want and wretchedness. But the poor here signifies such as Christ characterizes more fully by the poor in spirit ; Matt. v. 3. And this character implies the fol- lowing ingredients : 1. The poor man, to whom Jehovah looks, is deeply sensible of his own insufficiency, and that nothing but the enjoyment of God can make him happy. The poor man feels that he is not formed self-suffi- cient, but a dependent upon God. He is sensible of the weakness and poverty of his nature, and that he was not endowed with a sufficient stock of riches in his creation to support him through the endless duration for which he was formed, or even for a single day. The feeble vine does not more closely adhere to the elm than he does to his God. He is not more sensible of the insuf- ficiency of his body to subsist without air, or the pro- ductions of the earth, than of that of his soul without his God, and the enjoyment of his love. In short, he is re- duced into his proper place in the system of the universe, low and mean in comparison with superior beings of the angelic order, and especially in comparison with the great Parent and support of nature. He feels himself to be, what he really is, a poor, impotent, dependent crea- ture, that can neither live, nor move, nor exist without God. He is sensible that his sufficiency is of God, 2 Cor. iii. 5, " and that all the springs of his happiness are in him." This sense of his dependence upon God is attended with a sense of the inabihty of all earthly enjoyments to THE OBJECTS OF DIVINE FAVOR. 119 make him happy, and fill the vast capacities of his soul, which were formed for the enjoyment of an infinite good. He has a relish for the blessings of this life, but it is at- tended with a sense of their insufficiency, and does not exclude a stronger relish for the superior pleasures of religion. He is not a precise hermit, or a sour ascetic, on the one hand ; and, on the other, he is not a lover of jileasure more than a lover of God. If he enjoys no great share of the comforts of this life, he does not labor, nor so much as wish for them as his supreme happiness : he is w^ell assured they can never answer this end in their greatest affluence. It is for God, it is for the living God, that his soul mos;; eagerly thirsts. In the greatest extremity he is sensible that the enjoy- ment of his love is more necessary to his felicity than the possession of earthly blessings ; nay, he is sensible that if he is miserable in the absence of these, the prin- cipal cause is the absence of his God. 0 ! if he were blest with the perfect enjoyment of God, he could say, with Habakkuk, Though the fig-tree should not blossom, and there should be no fruit in the vi?ie ; though the labor of the olive should fail, and the fields yield no meat ; though the flock should be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stall ; though universal famine should strip me of all my earthly blessings, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, as my complete happiness ; / will joy in the God of my salvation. Hab. iii. 17, 18. If he enjoys an affluence of earthly blessings, he still retains a sense of his need of the enjoyment of God. To be discontented and dissatisfied is the common fate of the rich as well as the poor ; they are still craving, crav- ing an unknow^n something to complete their bliss. The soul, being formed for the fruition of "the Supreme Good, secretly languishes and pines away in the midst of other enjoyments, without knowing its cure. It is the enjoy- ment of God only that can satisfy its unbounded desires ; but, alas ! it has no relish for him, no thirst after him ; it is still crying, " More, more of the delights of the world j" like a man in a burning fever, that calls for cold water, that will but inflame his disease, and occasion a more painful return of thirst. But the poor in spirit know where their cure lies. They do not ask with uncertainty, Who will show us any sort of good ? but their petitions 120 POOR A7 THE COMPASSION OF CHRIST. groans and wounds, and blood, and death. Would he hang there in such agony for sinners if he were not will- ing ^to save them, and cherish every good principle in^them 1 There you may have much the same evi- dence of his compassion as Thomas had of his resurrec- tion ; you may look into his hands, and see the print of the nails ; and into his side, and see the scar of the spear ; which loudly proclaims his readiness to pity and help you. And now, poor, trembling, doubting souls, what hin- ders but you should rise up your drooping head, and take courage 1 May you not venture your souls into such compassionate and faithful hands % Why should the bruised reed shrink from him, when he comes not to tread it down, but raise it up 1 As I am really solicitous that impenitent hearts among us should be pierced with the medicinal anguish and sorrow of conviction and repentance, and the most friendly heart cannot form a kinder wish for them, so I am truly solicitous that every honest soul, in which there is the least spark of true piety, should enjoy the pleasure of it. It is indeed to be lamented that they who have a title to so much happiness should enjoy so little of it ; it is very incongruous that they should go bow- ing the head in their way towards heaven, as if they were hastening to the place of execution, and that they should serve so good a master with such heavy hearts O lift up the hands that hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees ! " Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people, saith your God. Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might." Trust in your all-sufficient Re- deemer ; trust in him though he should slay you. And do not indulge causeless doubts and fears con- cerning your sincerity. When they arise in your minds, examine them, and search whether there be any sufficient reason for them ; and if you discover there is not, then reject them and set them at defiance, and entertain your hopes in spite of them, and say with the Psalmist, " Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me 1 Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, the health of my countenance, and my God." Psalm xliii. 11. PRESENT HOLINESS AND FUTURE FELICITY. 159 SERMON IX. THE CONNECTION BETWEEN PRESENT HOLINESS AND FUTURE FELICITY. Heb. xii. 14. Follow — holiness ; without which no man shall see the Lord. As the human soul was originally designed for the en- joyment of no less a portion than the ever-blessed God, it was formed with a strong innate tendency towards happiness. It has not only an eager fondness for exist- ence, but for some good to render its existence happy. And the privation of being itself is not more terrible than the privation of all its blessings. It is true, in the present degeneracy of human nature, this vehement de- sire is miserably perverted and misplaced : man seeks his supreme happiness in sinful, or at best in created en- joyments, forgetful of the uncreated fountain of bliss ; but yet still he seeks happiness : still this innate impetus is predominant, and though he mistakes the means, yet he still retains a general aim at the end. Hence he ran- sacks this lower world in quest of felicity ; climbs in seach of it the slippery ascent of honor ; hunts for it in the treasures of gold and silver j or plunges for it in the foul streams of sensual pleasures. But since all the sor- did satisfaction resulting from these things is not ade- quate to the unbounded cravings of the mind, and since the satisfaction is transitory and perishing, or we may be wrenched from it by the inexorable hand of death, the mind breaks through the limits of the present en- joyments, and even of the lower creation, and ranges through the unknown scenes of futurity in quest of some untried good. Hope makes excursions into the dark duration between the present now and the grave, and forms to itself pleasing images of approaching bless- ings, which often vanish in the embrace, like delusive phantoms. Nay, it launches into the vast unknown world that lies beyond the grave, and roves through the regions of immensity after some complete felicity to supply the defects of sublunary enjoyments. Hence, though men, till their spirits are refined by regenera- 160 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN grace, have no relish for celestial joys, but pant for the poor pleasures of time and sense, yet as they cannot avnid the unwelcome consciousness that death will ere long rend them from these sordid and momentary enjoy- ments, are constrained to indulge the hope of bliss in a future state : and they promise themselves happiness in another world when they can no longer enjoy any in this. And as reason and revelation unitedly assure them that this felicity cannot consist in sensual indulgences, they generally expect it will be of a more refined and spirit- ual nature, and flow more immediately from the great Father of spirits. He must indeed be miserable that abandons all hope of this blessedness. The Christian religion affords him no other prospect but that of eternal, intolerable misery in the regions of darkness and despair ; and if he flies to infidelity as a refuge, it can afford him no comfort but the shocking prospect of annihilation. Now, if men were pressed into heaven by an unavoid- able fatality, if happiness was promiscuously promised to them aJl without distinction of characters, then they might indulge a blind unexammed hope, and never perplex themselves with anxious inquiries about it. And he might justly be deemed a malignant disturber of the repose of mankind, that would attempt to shock their hope, and frighten them with causeless scruples. But if the light of nature intimates, and the voice of Scripture proclaims aloud, that this eternal felicity is re- served only for persons of particular characters, and that multitudes, multitudes who entertained pleasing hopes of it, are confounded with an eternal disappoint- ment, and shall suffer an endless duration in the most terrible miseries, w^e ought each of us to take the alarm, and examine the grounds of our hope, that, if they ap- pear sufficient, we may allow ourselves a rational satis- faction in them ; and if they are found delusive, we may abandon them, and seek for a hope which wdll bear the test now while it may be obtained. And however dis- agreeable the task be to give our fellow-creatures even profitable uneasiness, yet he must appear to the impar- tial a friend to the best interests of mankind, who points out the evidences and foundation of a rational and scrip- HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 161 tural hope, and exposes the various mistakes to which we are subject in so important a case. And if, when we look around us, we find persons full of the hopes of heaven, who can give no scriptural evi- dences of them to themselves or others ; if we find many indulging this pleasing delusion, whose practices are mentioned by God himself as the certain marks of perishing sinners ; and if persons are so tenacious of these hopes, that they will retain them to their everlasting ruin, unless the most convictive methods are taken to undeceive them ; then it is high time for those to whom the care of souls (a weightier charge than that of kingdoms) is intrusted, to use the greatest plainness for this purpose. This is my chief design at present, and to this my text naturally leads me. It contains these doctrines : First, That without holiness here, it is impossible for us to enjoy heavenly happiness in the future world. To see the Lord, is here put for enjoying him ; see Rom. viii. 24. And the metaphor signifies the happiness of the future state in general ; and more particularly in- timates that the knowledge of God will be a special in- gredient therein. See a parallel expression in Matt. v. 8. Secondly, that this consideration should induce us to use the most earnest endeavors to obtain the heavenly happiness. Pursue holiness, because without it no man can see the Lord. Hence I am naturally led, I. To explain the nature of that holiness y without which no man shall see the Lord. II. To show what endeavors should be used to obtain it. And, III. To urge you to use them by the consideration of the absolute necessity of holiness. I. I am to explain the nature of holiness. And I shall give you a brief definition of it, and then mention some of those dispositions and practices which naturally flow from it. The most intelligible description of holiness, as it is inherent in us, may be this ; " It is a conformity in heart and practice to the revealed will of God." As the Supreme Being is the standard of all perfection, his holiness in particular is the standard of ours. Then w ; 162 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN are holy when his image is stamped upon our hearts and reflected in our lives ; so the apostle defines it, and that ye put on the ?iew man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness. Eph. iv. 24. Whom he did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son. Rom. viii. 29. Hence holiness may be defined, " A conformity to God in his moral perfections." But as we cannot have a distinct knowledge of these perfections but as they are manifested by the revealed will of God, I choose to define holiness, as above, " A conformity to his revealed will." Now his revealed will comprises both the law and the gospel; the law informs us of the duty which we as creatures owe to God as a being of supreme excellency, as our Creator and Benefactor, and to men as our fellow-creatures ; and the gospel informs us of the duty which as sinners we owe to God as re- concileable through a Mediator. Our obedience to the former implies the whole of morality, and to the latter the whole of evangelical graces, as faith in a Mediator, re- pentance, &c. From this definition of holiness it appears, on the one hand, that it is absolutely necessary, to see the Lord ; for unless our dispositions are conformed to him, we cannot be happy in the enjoyment of him: and on the other hand, that they who are made thus holy, are prepared for the vision and fruition of his face, as they can relish the divinest pleasure. But as a concise definition of holiness may give an audi- tory but very imperfect ideas of it, I shall expatiate upon the dispositions and practices in which it consists, or which naturally result from it ; and they are such as follow : 1. A delight in God for his holiness. Self-love may prompt us to love him for his goodness to us ; and so, many unregenerate men may have a selfish love to God on this account. But to love God because he is infinite- ly holy, because he bears an infinite detestation to all sin, and will not indulge his creatures in the neglect of the least instance of holiness, but commands them to be holy as he is holy, this is a disposition connatural to a renewed soul only, and argues a conformity to his image Every nature is most agreeable to itself, and a holy na- ture is most agreeable to a holy nature. Here I would make a remark, which may God deeply HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 163 impress on your hearts, and which for that purpose I shall subjoin to each particular, that holiness in fallen man is supernatural ; I mean, we are not born with it, we give no discoveries of it, till we have experienced a great change. Thus we find it in the present case : we have no natural love to God because of his infinite puri- ty and hatred to all sin ; nay, we would love him more did he give us greater indulgences ; and I am afraid the love of some persons is founded upon a mistake ; they love him because they imagine he does not hate sin, nor them for it, so much as he really does ; because they do not expect he is so inexorably just in his dealings with the sinner. It is no AYonder they love such a soft, easy, passive being as this imaginary deity ; but did they see the lustre of that holiness of God which dazzles the celestial armies ; did they but know the terrors of his justice, and his implacable indignation against sin, their innate enmity would show its poison, and their hearts would rise against God in all those horrible blasphemies with which awakened sinners are so frequently shocked. Such love as this is so far from being acceptable, that it is the greatest affront to the Supreme Being ; as, if a pro- fligate loved you on the mistaken supposition that you were such a libertine as himself, it would rather inflame your indignation than procure your respect. But to a regenerate mind how strong, how trans- porting are the charms of holiness! Such a mind joins the anthem of seraphs with the divinest complacency. Rev. iv. 8, and anticipates the song of glorified saints, Who would not fear t/iee^ 0 Lord, and glorify thy name, for thou only art holy ? Rev. xv. 4. The perfections of God lose their lustre, or sink into objects of terror or con- tempt, if this glorious attribute be abstracted. Without holiness power becomes tyranny, omniscience craft, jus- tice revenge and cruelty, and even the amiable attribute of goodness loses its charms, and degenerates into a blind promiscuous prodigality, or foolish undiscerning fondness : but when these perfections are clothed in the beauties of holiness, how godlike, how majestic, how lovely and attractive do they appear ! and with what complacence does a mind fashioned after the divine image acquiesce in them ! It may appear amiable even to an unholy sinner, that the exertions of almighty pow- 164 THE CONNECTIOxN BETWEEN er should be regulated by the most consummate wisdom •, that justice should not without distinction punish tht guilty and the innocent : but an holy soul only can re joice that divine goodness will not communicate happi- ness to the disgrace of holiness ; and that, rather than it should overflow in a blind promiscuous manner, the whole human race should be miserable. A selfish sinner has nothing in view but his own happiness ; and if this be obtained, he has no anxiety about the illustration of • the divine purity ; but it recommends happiness itself to a sanctified soul, that it cannot be communicated in a way inconsistent with the beauties of holiness. 2. Holiness consists in a hearty complacence in the law of God, because of its purity. The law is the transcript of the moral perfections of God ; and if we love the ori- ginal, we shall love the copy. Accordingly it is natural to a renewed mind to love the divine law, because it is perfectly holy , because it makes no allowance for the least sin, and requires every duty that it becomes us to perform towards God. Psalm cxix. 140, and xix. 7 — 10, Eomans vii. 12, compared with 22. But is this our natural disposition 1 Is this the dispo- sition of the gonerality '? Do they not, on the contrary, secretly find fault with the law, because it is so strict 1 And their common objection against that holiness of life which it enjoins is, that they cannot bear to be so pre- cise. Hence they are always for abating the rigor of the law, for bringing it down to some imaginary stand- ard of their own, to their present ability, to sins of prac- tice without regard to the sinful dispositions of the heart ; or to the prevailing dispositions of the heart with- out regard to the first workings of concupiscence, those embryos of iniquity ; and if they love the law at all, as they profess to do, it is upon the supposition that it is not so strict as it really is, but grants them greater indulgences. Rom. vii. 7. Hence it appears that, if we are made holy at all, it must be by a supernatural change ; and when that is ef- fected, what a strange and happy alteration does the sin- ner perceive ! with what pleasure does he resign him- self a willing subject to that law to which he was oncer so averse ! And when he fails, (as alas! he does in many things,) how is he humbled ! He does not lay the fault HOLINESS AND FELICITY. 165 upon the law as requiring impossibilities, but lays the whole fault upon himself as a corrupt sinner. 3. Holiness consists in a hearty complacence in the gospel method of salvation, because it tends to illustrate the moral perfections of the Deity, and to discover the beauties of holiness. The gospel informs us of two grand pre-requisites to the salvation of the fallen sons of men, namely, the sat- isfaction of divine justice by the obedience and passion of Christ, that God might be reconciled to them consist- ently with his perfections ; and the sanctification of sin- ners by the efficacy of the Holy Ghost, that they might be capable of enjoying God, and that he might maintain mtimate communion with them without any stain to his holiness. These two grand articles contain the substance of the gospel ; and our acquiescence in them is the sub- stance of that evangelical obedience which it requires of us, and which is essential to holiness in a fallen crea- ture. Now, it is evident, that without either of these the moral perfections of the Deity, particularly his holiness, could not be illustrated, or even secured in the salvation of a sinner. Had he received an apostate race into fa- vor, who had conspired in the most unnatural rebellion against him, without any satisfaction, his holiness would have been eclipsed ; it would not have appeared that he had so invincible an abhorrence of sin, so zealous a re- gard for the vindication of his own holy law ; or to his veracity, which had threatened condign punishment to offenders. But by the satisfaction of Christ, his holiness is illustrated in the most conspicuous manner ; now it appears, that God would upon no terms save a sinner but that of adequate satisfaction, and that no other Avas suffi- cient but the suffering of his co-equal Son, otherwise he would not have appointed him to sustain the character of a Mediator ; and now it appears that his hatred of sin is such that he would not let it pass unpunished even in his own Son, when only imputed to him. In like man- ner, if sinners, while unholy, were admitted into com- munion with God in heaven, it would obscure the glory of his holiness, and it would not then appear that such was the purity of his nature that he could have no fel- lowship with sin. But now it is evident, that even the 166 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN blood of Immanuel cannot purchase heaven to be enjoy- ed by a sinner while unholy, but that every one that ar- rives at heaven must first be sanctified. An unholy sin- ner can no more be saved, while such, by the gospel than by the law ; but here lies the difference, that the gospel makes provision for his sanctification, which is gradual- ly carried on here, and perfected at death, before his ad- mission into the heavenly glory. Now it is the genius of true holiness to acquiesce in both these articles. A sanctified soul places all its de- pendence on the righteousness of Christ for acceptance. It would be disagreeable to it to have the least concur- rence in its own justification. It is not only willing, but delights to renounce all its own righteousness, and to glory in Christ alone. Phil. iii. 3. Free grace to such souls is a charming theme, and salvation is more ac- ceptable, because conveyed in this way. It w^ould ren- der lueaven itself disagreeable, and wither all its joys, were they brought thither in a way that degrades or does not illustrate the glory of God's holiness ; but O how agreeable the thought, that he that glorieth must glory in the Lord, and that the pride of all flesh shall be abased ! So a holy person rejoiceth that the way of holiness is the appointed way to heaven. He is not forced to be holy merely by the servile consideration that he must be so or perish, and so unwillingly submits to the necessity which he cannot avoid, when in the mean time, were it put to his choice, he would choose to reserve some sins, and neglect some painful duties. So far from this, that he delights in the gospel-constitution, because it requires universal holiness, and heaven would be less agreeable, were he to carry even the least sin there. He thinks it no hardship that he must deny himself in his sinful plea- sures, and habituate himself to so much strictness in re- ligion ; no, but he blesses the Lord for obliging him to it, and where he fails he charges himself with it, and is self-abased upon the account. This is solid rational religion, fit to be depended upon, in opposition to the antinomian licentiousness, the freaks of enthusiasm, and the irrational flights of passion and imaj^ination on the one hand; and in opposition to for- mality, mere morality, and the self-sprung religion of HOLINESS AND FELICITV. ICT nature on the other. And is it not evident we are des- titute of this by nature 1 Men naturally are averse to this p^ospel method of salvation ; they will not submit to the righteousness of God, but fix their dependence, in part at least, upon their own merit. Their proud hearts cannot bear the thought that all their performances must go for just nothing in their justification. They are also averse to the way of holiness ; hence they will either abandon the expectation of heaven, and since they can- not obtain it in their sinful ways, desperately conclude to go on in sin, come what will; or, with all the little sophistry they are capable of, they will endeavor to widen the way to heaven, and persuade themselves they shall attain it, notwithstanding their continuance in some known iniquity, and though their hearts have never been thoroughly sanctified. Alas ! how evident is this all around us ! How^ many either give up their hopes of heaven rather than part with sin, or vainly hold them, while their dispositions and practices prove them ground- less ! And must not such degenerate creatures be re- newed ere they can be holy, or see the Lord 1 4. Holiness consists in an habitual delight in all the duties of holiness towards God and man, and an earnest desire for communion with God in them. This is the natural result of all the foregoing particulars. If we love God for his holiness, we shall delight in that ser- vice in which our conformity to him consists ; if we love his law, we shall delight in that obedience which it en- joins; and if we take complacence in the evangelical method of salvation, we shall take delight in that ho- liness, without which we cannot enjoy it. The service of God is the element, the pleasure of a holy soul; while others delight in the riches, the honors, or the pleasures of this world, the holy soul desires one thing of the Lord, that it may behold his beauty while inquiring in his temple. Psalm xxvii. 4. Such a person delights in retired converse with heaven, in meditation and prayer. Ps. cxxxix. 17. and Ixiii. 5, 6, and Ixxiii. 28. He also takes pleasure in justice, benevolence, and cha- rity towards men, Ps. cxii. 5, 9, and in the strictest temperance and sobriety. 1 Cor. ix. 27. Moreover, the mere formality of performing religious duties does not satisfy the true saint, unless he enjoys a 168 THE COiNJNECTION BETWEEN divine friendship therein, receives communications of grace from heaven, and finds his graces quickenea. Ps. xlii. 1, 2. This consideration also shows us that holiness in us must be supernatural ; for do we naturally thus delight in the service of God 1 or do you all now thus delight in it 1 is it not rather a weariness to you, and do you not find more pleasures in other things 1 Surely you must be changed, or you can have no relish for the en- joyments of heavenly happiness. 5. To constitute us saints indeed there must be uni- versal holiness in practice. This naturally follows from the last, for as the body obeys the stronger volitions of the will, so when the heart is prevailingly disposed to the service of God, the man will habitually practise it. This is generally mentioned in scripture as the grand characteristic of real religion, without which all our pre- tensions are vain. 1 John iii. 2 — 10, and v. 3. John xv. 15. True Christians are far from being perfect in prac- tice, yet thej'^ are prevailingly holy in all manner r»f con- versation ; they do not live habitually in any one known sin, or wilfully neglect any one known duty. Psalm cxix. 6. Without this practical holiness no man shall see the Lord ; and if so, how great a change must be wrought on most before they can see him, for how few are thus adorned with a life of universal holiness ! Many profess the name of Christ, but how few of them depart from iniquity ! But to what purpose do they call him Master and Lord, while they do not the things which he com- mands them 1 Thus I have, as plainly as I could, described the na- ture and properties of that holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord ; and they who are possessed of it may lift up their heads with joy, assured that God has begun a good work in them, and that he will carry it on ; and on the other hand, they that are destitute of it may be assured, that unless they are made new creatures they cannot see the Lord. I come, IL To show you the endeavors we should use to ob- tain this holiness. And they are such as these : 1. Endeavor to know whether you are holy or not by close examination. It is hard indeed for some to know HOLLNESS AND FELICITY. 169 positively that they are holy, as they are perplexed with the appearances of realities, and the fears of coun- terfeits ; but it is then easy for many to conclude ne- gatively that they are not holy, as they have not the likeness of it ! To determine this point is of great use to our successful seeking after holiness. That an unre- generate sinner should attend on the means of grace with other aims than one that has reason to believe himself sanctified, is evident. The anxieties, sorrows, desires, and endeavors of the one should run in a very different channel from those of the other. The one should look upon himself as a guilty and condemned sinner ; the other should allow himself the pleasures of a justified state ; the one should pursue after the im- plantation ; the other after the increase of holiness : the one should indulge a seasonable concern about his lost condition ; the other repose an humble confidence in God as reconciled to him ; the one should look upon the threatenings of God as his doom ; the other embrace the promises as his portion. Hence it follows, that while we are mistaken about our state, we cannot use endeavors after holiness in a proper manner. We act like a phy- sician that applies medicines at random, without know- ing the disease. It is a certain conclusion that the most generous charity, under scriptural limitations, cannot avoid, that multitudes are destitute of holiness ; and ought not we to inquire with proper anxiety whether we belong to that number 1 Let us be impartial, and pro- ceed according to evidence. If we find those marks of holmess in heart and life which have been mentioned, let not an excessive scrupulosity frighten us from draw- ing the happy conclusion : and, if we find them not, let us exercise so much wholesome severity against our- selves, as honestly to conclude we are unholy sinners, and must be renewed before wc can see the Lord. The conclusion, no doubt, will give you a painful anxiety : but if you was my dearest friend, I could not form a kinder wish for you than that you might be incessantly distressed with it till you are born again. This conclu- sion will not be always avoidable ; the light of eternity will force you upon it ; and whether is it better to give way to it now, when it may be to your advantage, or be forced to admit it then, when it will be only a torment 1 15 170 THE CONNECTION BETWEEN 2. Awake, arise, and betake yourselves in earnest to all the means of grace. Your life, your eternal life is concerned, and therefore it calls for all the ardor and earnestness you are capable of exerting. Accustom yourself to meditation, converse with yourselves in re- tirement, and live no longer strangers at home. Read the word of God and other good books, with diligence, attention, and self-application. Attend on the public ministrations of the gospel, not as a trifler, but as one that sees his eternal all concerned. Shun the tents of sin, the rendezvous of sinners, and associate with those that have experienced the change you want, and can give you proper directions. Prostrate yourself before the God of heaven, confess your sin, implore his mercy, cry to him night and day, and give him no rest, till the importunity prevail, and you take the kingdom of heaven by violence. But, after all, acknowledge that it is God that must work in you both to will and to do, and that when you have done all these things you are but unprofitable serv- ants. I do not prescribe these directions as though these means could effect holiness in you ; no, they can no more do it than a pen can Avrite without a hand. It is the holy Spirit's province alone to sanctify a degene rate sinner, but he is wont to do it while we are waiting upon him in the use of these means, though our best en- deavors give us no title to his grace ; but he may justly leave us after all in that state of condemnation and cor- ruption into which we have voluntarily brought our- selves. I go on, III. And lastly, to urge you to the use of these means, from the consideration mentioned in the text, the abso- lute necessity of holiness to the enjoyment of heavenly happiness. Here I would show that holiness is absolutely neccs- siry, and that the consideration of its necessity may strongly enforce the pursuit of it. The necessity of holiness appears from the unchan- geable appointment of heaven, and the nature of things. 1. The unchangeable appointment of God excludes all the unholy from the kingdom of heaven ; see 1 Cor. ix. 6 ; Rev. xxi. 27 ; Psalm v. 4, 5 ; 2 Cor. v. 17 ; Gal. vi. 15 It is most astonishing that many who profess to believe HOLII^ESS AI^D FELICITY. 171 the divine authority of the Scriptures, will yet indulge vain hopes of heaven in opposition to the plainest decla- rations of eternal truth. But though there were no positive constitution excluding the unholy from heaven, yet 2. The very nature of things excludes sinners from heaven ; that is, it is impossible, in the nature of things, that while they are unholy, they could receive happiness from the employments and entertainments of the hea- venly world. If these consisted in the affluence of those things which sinners delight in here ; if its enjoy- ments were earthly riches, pleasures, and honors ; if its employments were the amusements of the present life, then they might be happy there, as far as their sordid natures are capable of happiness. But these trifles have no place in heaven. The felicity of that state consists in the contemplation of the divine perfections, and their displays in the works of creation, providence, and re- demption ; hence it is described by seeing the Lord. Matt. V. 18, and as a state of knowledge, 1 Cor. xiii. 10 — 12, in the satisfaction resulting thence. Ps. xvii. 15, and a complacency in God as a portion, Ps. Ixxiii. 25, 26, and is perpetual serving and praising the Lord : and hence adoration is generally mentioned as the employ of all the hosts of heaven. These are the entertainments of heaven, and they that cannot find supreme happiness in these, cannot find it in heaven. But it is evident these things could afford no satisfaction to an unholy person. He would pine away at the heavenly feast, for want of appetite for the entertainment ; a holy God would be an object of horror rather than delight to him, and his service would be a weariness, as it is now. Hence it appears, that if we do not place our supreme delight in these things here, we cannot be happy here- after ; for there will be no change of dispositions in a future state, but only the perfection of those predomi- nant in us here, whether good or evil. Either heaven must be changed, or the sinner, before he can be happy there. Hence also it appears, that God's excluding such from heaven is no more an act of cruelty than our not admitting a sick man to a feast, who has no relish for the entertainments ; or not bringing a blind man into the light of the sun, or to view a beautiful prospect. 172 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND We see then that holiness is absolutely necessary j and what a great inducement should this consideration be to pursue it ; if we do not see the Lord, we shall ne- ver see good. We are cut off at death from all earthly enjoyments, and can no longer make experiments to sat- isfy our unbounded desires with them ; and we have no God to supply their room. We are banished from all the joys of heaven, and how vast, how inconceivably vast is the loss ! We are doomed to the regions of darkness for ever, to bear the vengeance of eternal fire, to feel the lashes of a guilty conscience, and to spend an eternity in a horrid intimacy with infernal ghosts ; and will we not then rather follow holiness, than incur so dreadful a doom 1 By the terrors of the Lord, then, be persuaded to break off your sins by righteousness, and follow holi- ness ; without which no man shall see the Lord. SERMON X. THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. John xviii. 37. Pilate therefore said unto him^ Art thou a king then ? Jesus answered^ 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. Kings and kingdoms are the most majestic sounds in the language of mortals, and have filled the w^orld with noise, confusions, and blood, since mankind first left the state of nature, and formed themselves into societies. The disputes of kingdoms for superiority have set the world in arms from age to age, and destroyed or enslav- ed a considerable part of the human race ; and the con- test is not yet decided. Our country has been a region of peace and tranquillity for a long time, but it has not been because the lust of power and riches is extinct in the world, but because we had no near neighbors whose interest might clash with ours, or w^ho were able to dis- turb us. The absence of an enemv was our sole de- GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 173 fence. But now, when the colonies of the sundry Suro- pean nations on this continent begin to enlarge, and ap- proach towards each other, the scene is changed ; now encroachments, depredations, barbarities, and all the terrors of war begin to surround and alarm us. Now our country is invaded and ravaged, and bleeds in a thousand veins. We have already,* so early in the year, received alarm upon alarm : and we may expect the alarms to grow louder and louder as the season ad- vances. These commotions and perturbations have had one good effect upon me, and that is, they have carried away my thoughts of late into a serene and peaceful re- gion, a region beyond the reach of confusion and vio- lence ; I mean the kingdom of the Prince of Peace. And thither, my brethren, I would also transport your minds this day, as the best refuge from this boisterous world, and the most agreeable mansion for the lovers of peace and tranquillity. I find it advantageous both to you and myself, to entertain you with those subjects that have made the deepest impression upon my own mind : and this is the reason why I choose the present subject. In my text you hear one entering a claim to a kingdom, whom you would conclude, if you regarded only his out- »vard appearance, to be the meanest and vilest of man- kind. To hear a powerful prince, at the head of a vic- torious army, attended with all the royalties of his cha- racter, to hear such an one claim the kingdom he had acquired by force of arm«, would not be strange. But here the despised Nazarene, rejected by his nation, for- saken by his followers, accused as the worst of crimi- nals, standing defenceless at Pilate's bar, just about to be condemned and hung on a cross, like a malefactor and a slave, here he speaks in a royal style, even to his judge, / am a King : for this purpose was I bor?i, and for this cause came I into the world. Strange language indeed to proceed from his hps in these circumstances ! But the truth is, a great, a divine personage is concealed under this disguise ; and his kingdom is of such a nature, that his abasement and crucifixion were so far from being a hinderance to it, that they were the only way to acquire ♦ This sermon was preached in Hanover, Virginia, May 9, 1756. 15* l'^4' THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND it These snfTering-s were meritorious ; and by these he jurchased his subjects, and a right to rule them. The occasion of these words was this : the unbeliev- ing- Jews were determined to put Jesus to death as an impostor. The true reason of their opposition to him was, that he had severely exposed their hypocrisy, claim- ed the character of the Messiah, without answering their expectations as a temporal prince and a mighty con- queror ; and introduced a new religion, which supersed- ed the law of Moses, in which they had been educated. But this reason they knew would have but little weight Avith Pilate the Roman governor, who was a heathen, and had no regard to their religion. They therefore bring a charge of another kind, which they knew would touch the governor very sensibly, and that was, that Christ had set himself up as the King of the Jews ; which was treason against Caesar the Roman emperor, under whose yoke they then were. This was all pretence and artifice. They would now seem to be very loyal to the emper- or, and unable to bear with any claims inconsistent with his authority ; whereas, in truth, they were impatient of a foreign government, and were watching for any oppor- tunity to shake it ofil And had Christ been really guilty of the charge they alleged against him, he would have been the more acceptable to them. Had he set himself up as a king of the Jews, in opposition to Caesar, and employed his miraculous powers to make good his claim, the whole nation would have welcomed him as their de- liverer, and flocked round his standard. But Jesus came not to work a deliverance of this kind, nor to erect such a kingdom as they desired, and therefore they rejected him as an impostor. This charge, however, they bring against him, in order to carry their point with the hea- then governor. They knew he was zealous for the honor and interest of Ccesar his master ; and Tiberius, the then Roman emperor, was so jealous a prince, and kept so many spies over his governors in all the provinces, that they were obliged to be very circumspect, and show the strictest regard for his rights, in order to escape degra- dation, or a severer punishment. It was this that deter- mined Pilate, in the struggle with his conscience, to con- demn the innocent Jesus. He was afraid the Jews would inform against him, as dismissing one that set up as the GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 175 rival of Caesar ; and the consequence of this he well knew The Jews were sensible of this, and therefore they insist upon this charge, and at length plainly te^ him, If thou let this man go^ thou art not CcEsar'^s friend. Pilate, therefore, who cared but little what innovations Christ should introduce into the Jewish religion, thought proper to inquire into this matter, and asks him, " Art thou the King of the Jews \ " dost thou, indeed, claim such a character, which may interfere with Cajsar's gov- ernment \ Jesus replies, Mtj kingdom is not of this world ; as much as to say, " I do not deny that I claim a king- dom, but it is of such a nature, that it need give no alarm to the kings of the earth. Their kingdoms are of this world, bat mine is spiritual and divine,* and therefore cannot interfere with theirs. If my kingdom were of this world, like theirs, I would take the same methods with them to obtain and secure it ; my servants would fight for me, that I should not be delivered to the Jews ; but now, you see, I use no such means for my defence, or to raise me to my kingdom : and therefore you may be assured my kingdom is not from hence, and can give the Roman emperor no umbrage for suspicion or uneasi- ness." Pilate answers to this purpose : Thou dost, how- ever, speak of a kingdom ; and art thou a king then ? dost thou in any sense claim that character \ The poor pri- soner boldly replies. Thou sayest that I am a king ; that is, " Thou hast struck upon the truth : I am indeed a king, in a certain sense, and nothing shall constrain me to renounce the title. To this end was I born^ and for this cause came I into the world^ that I should hear witness to the truth ; particularly to this truth, which now looks so unlikely, namely, that I am really a king. I was born to a kingdom and a crown, and came into the world to take possession of my right." This is that good confes- sion which St. Paul tells us, 1 Tim. vi. 13, our Lord wit- nessed before Pontius Pilate. Neither the hopes of de- liverance, nor the terrors of death, could cause him to retract it, or renounce his claim. In prosecuting this subject I intend only to inquire * Domitian, the Roman emperor, bein^ apprehensive that Christ's earthly relations might claim a kingdom m liis right, inquired of them concerning the nature of his kingdom, and when and whore it should be set up. They replied, " It was not earthly, but heavenly and angelical, and to be set up at the end of the world." 176 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND into the nature and properties of the kingdom of Christ. And in order to render my discourse the more familiar, and to adapt it to the present state of our country, I shall consider this kingdom in contrast withthe kingdoms of the earth, with which we are better acquainted. The scriptures represent the Lord Jesus under a great variety of characters, which, though insufficient fully to represent him, yet, in conjunction, assist us to form such exalted ideas of this great personage as mortals can reach. He is a Surety, that undertook and paid the dreadful debt of obedience and suffering, which sinners owed to the divine justice and law : He is a Priest, a great High Priest, that once offered himself as a sacrifice for sin ; and now dwells in his native heaven, at his Fa- ther's right hand, as the advocate and intercessor of his people : He is a Prophet, who teaches his church, in all ages, by his word and spirit : He is the supreme and universal Judge, to whom men and angels are account- able ; and his name is Jesus, a Savior, because he saves his people from their sins. Under these august and en- dearing characters he is often represented. But there is one character under Avhich he is uniformly represent- ed, both in the Old and New Testament, and that is, that of a King, a great King, invested with universal author- ity. And upon his appearance in the flesh, all nature, and especially the gospel-church, is represented as placed under him, as his kingdom. Under this idea the Jews were taught by their prophets to look for him ; and it was their understanding these predictions of some illus- trious king that should rise from the house of David, in a literal and carnal sense, that occasioned their unhappy prejudices concerning the Messiah as a secular prince and conqueror Under this idea the Lord Jesus repre- sented himself while upon earth, and under this idea he was published to the world by his apostles. The great- est kings of the Jewish nation, particularly David and Solomon, Avere types of him : and many things are pri- marily applied to them, which have their complete and final accomplishment in him alone. It is to him ulti- mately wc are to apply the second psalm : " I have set my King," says Jehovah, " upon my holy hill of Zion. Ask of me, and I will give thee the heathen for thy in- heritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for thy pos- GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 177 If we read the seventy-second Psalm we shall easily perceive that one greater than So- lomon is there. "In his days shall the righteous flou- rish ; and abundance of peace so long as the moon en- dureth. All kings shall fall doAvn before him ; all na- tions shall serve him. His name shall continue for ever ; his name shall endure as long as the sun : and men shall be blessed in him ; and all nations shall call him bless- ed: Psalm Ixxxii. 7. 11. 17. The hundred and tenth Psalm is throughout a celebra- tion of the kingly and priestly office of Christ united. The Lord^ says David, said unto my Lord^ unto that di- vine person who is my Lord, and will also be my son, sit thou at my right hand^ in the highest honor and author- ity, until I make thine enemies thy footstool. Rule thou in the midst of thine enemies. Thy people shall he wil- ling in the day of thy power, and submit to thee in crowds as numerous as the drops of the morning dew. Ps. ex. 1 — 3. The evangelical prophet Isaiah is often trans- ported with the foresight of this illustrious king, and the glorious kingdom of his grace : — " Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given ; and the government shall be upon his shoulder ; and he shall be called — the Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David and upon his kingdom, to order and to establish it with judgment and with justice, from henceforth even for ever." Isa. ix. 6, 7. This is he who is described as another David in Ezekiel's prophecy, " Thus saith the Lord, I will take the children of Israel from among the heathen. And I will make them one nation — and one king shall be king to them all, even David my servant shall be king over them." Ezek. xxxvii. 21, 22, 2J'. This is the king- dom represented to Nebuchadnezzar m his dream, as " a stone cut out without hands, which became a great mountain, and filled the whole earth." And Daniel, in expounding the dream, having described the Babylonian, the Persian, the Grecian, and Roman empires, subjoins, " In the days of these kings," that is, of the Roman em- perors, " shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed • and the kingdom shall not," like the former, -be left co omer peopie j out ic ahall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, 178 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND and it shall stand for ever." Dan. ii. 34, 35, 44. There is no character which our Lord so often assumed in the days of his flesh as that of the Son of man ; and he no doubt alludes to a majestic vision in Daniel, the only place where this character is given him in the Old Tes- tament : " I saw in the night visions," says Daniel, " and behold one like the Son of Man came to the Ancient of days, and there was given to him dominion, and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages, should serve him : his dominion is an everlasting domi- nion, which shall not pass away, and his kingdom that which shall not be destroyed," Dan. vii. 13, 14, like the tottering kingdoms of the earth, which are perpetually rising and falling. This is the king that Zechariah re- fers to when, in prospect of his triumphant entrance into Jerusalem, he calls the inhabitants to give a proper re- ception to so great a Prince. " Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion ; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem : be- hold thy King cometh unto thee," «fec. Zech. ix. 9. Thus the prophets conspire to ascribe royal titles and a glo- rious kingdom to the Messiah. And these early and plain notices of him raised a general expectation of him under this royal character. It was from these prophe- cies concerning him as a king, that the Jews took occa- sion, as I observed, to look for the Messiah as a tempo- ral prince ; and it was a long time before the apostles themselves were delivered from these carnal prejudices. They were solicitous about posts of honor in that tem- poral kingdom which they expected he would set up : and even after his resurrection, they cannot forbear ask- ing him, " Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom to Israel '?" Acts i. 6, that is, " Wilt thou now restore the Jews to their former liberty and independen- cy, and deliver them from their present subjection to the Romans'?" It was under this view that Herod was alarmed at his birth, and shed the blood of so many in- nocents, that he might not escape. He was afraid of liim as the heir of David's family and crown, who might dispossess him of the government ; nay, he was expect- ed by other nations under the character of a mighty king ; and they no doubt learned this notion of him from he Jewish prophecies, as well as their conversation with that people. Hence the Magi, or eastern wise men, GLOrJES OF JESUS CHRIST. 179 when they came to pay homage to him upon his birth, inquired after him in this language, — "Where is he that is born King of the Jews 1" Matt. ii. 2. And what is still more remarkable, we are told by two heathen histo- rians, that about the time of his appearance a general expectation of him under this character prevailed through the world. " Many," says Tacitus, " had a persuasion that it was contained in the ancient writings of the priests, that at that very time the east should prevail, and that some descendant from Judah should obtain the universal government."* Suetonius speaks to the same purpose : " An old and constant opinion," says he, " commonly prevailed through all the east, that it was in the tates, that some should rise out of Judea, \vho should obtain the government of the world."f This royal cha- racter Christ himself assumed, even when he conversed among mortals in the humble form of a servant. " The Father," says he, " has given me power over all flesh." John xvii. 2. Yea, " all powder in heaven and earth is given to me," Matt, xxviii. 13. The gospel church which he erected is most commonly called the kingdom of heaven or of God, in the evangelists : and when he was about to introduce it, this was the proclamation : " The kingdom of heaven is at hand." Under this charac- ter also his servants and disciples celebrated and preached him. Gabriel led the song in foretelling his birth to his mother. " He shall be great, and the Lord shall give unto him the throne of his father David ; and he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever : and of his kingdom there shall be no end." Luke i. 32, 33. St. Paul boldly tells the murderers of Christ, " God hath made that same Jesus whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ," Acts ii. 36 ; " and exalted him, with his own right hand, to be a Prince and a Savior." Acts v. 31. And St. Paul repeatedly represents him as advanced " far above prin- cipality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every * Pluribus persuasio inerut, antiquis sacerdotum Uteris contmcri, eo ipso tempore lore, ut valescerat oriens profectique Judea rerum poliren- tur. Tacit. Hist. lib. v. jap. 13, t Percrebuerat oriente toto vetus & constans opinio, esse m fatis, ut eo tempore Judea profecti rerum potircutur. Suet, in Vesp. c. 4. The sameness of the exj)eclation is remarkably evident, from the same- ness of the words in which these two historians express it. Judea pro- fecti rerum potirentiir. It was not only a common expectation, but it was commonly expressed in the same language. 180 THE MEDIATOELAL KLXGDO^I AND name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come : and that God hath put all things under his feet, and given him to be the head over all things to his church." Eph. i. 21,22; Phil. ii. 9-11. Yea, to him all the hosts of heaven, and even the whole creation in concert, ascribe "power and strength, and honor, and glory," Rev. v. 12. Pilate the heathen was overruled to give a kind of accidental testimony to this truth, and to publish it to different nations, by the in- scription upon the cross in the three languages then most in use, the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew : " This is Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jew s ;" and all the re- monstrances of the Jews could not prevail upon him to alter it. Finally, it is he that w^ears " upon his vesture, and upon his thigh, this name written. King of Kings, and Lord of Lords," Rev. xix. 16 ; and as his name is, so is he. Thus you see, my brethren, by these instances, select- ed out of many, that the kingly character and dominion of our LorJ Jesus runs through the whole Bible. That of a king is his favorite character, in which he glories, and which is the most expressive of his office. And this consideration alone may convince you that this character is of the greatest importance, and w^orthy of your most attentive regard. It is the mediatorial kingdom of Christ that is here intended, not that which as God he exercises over all the works of his hand: it is that kingdom which is an empire of grace, an administration of mercy over our guilty world. It is the dispensation intended for the salvation of fallen sinners of our race by the gospel ; and on this account the gospel is often called the kingdom of heaven ; because its happy consequences are not confined to this earth, but appear in heaven in the highest perfec- tion, and last through all eternity. Hence, not only the church of Christ on earth, and the dispensation of the gospel, but all the saints in heaven, and that more finish- ed economy under which they are placed, are all includ- ed in the kingdom of Christ. Here his kingdom is in its infancy, but in heaven is arrived to perfection ; but it is substantially the same. Though the immediate design of this kingdom is the salvation of believers of the guilty race of man, and such are its subjects in a peculiar GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 181 sense ; yet it extends to all worlds, to heaven, and earth, and hell. The whole universe is put under a mediatorial head : but then, as the apostle observes, " he is made head over all things to his church," Eph. i. 22 ; that is, for the benefit and salvation of his church. As Mediator he is carrying on a glorious scheme for the recovery of man, and all parts of the universe are interested or con- cern themselves in this grand event ; and therefore they are all subjected to him, that he may so manage them as to promote this end, and baffle and overwhelm all oppo- sition. The elect angels rejoice in so benevolent a de- sign for peopling their mansions, left vacant by the fall of so many of their fellow-angels, with colonies transplanted from our world, from a race of creatures that they had given for lost. And therefore Christ as a Mediator, is made the head of all the heavenly armies, and he employs them as " his ministering spirits, to minister to them that are heirs of salvation." Heb. i. 14". These glorious creatures are always on the wing, ready to discharge his orders in any part of his vast em- pire, and delight to be employed in the services of his mediatorial kingdom. This is also an event in which the fallen angels deeply interest themselves ; they have united all their force and art for near six thousand years to disturb and subvert his kingdom, and blast the designs of redeeming love ; they therefore are all subjected to the control of Christ, and he shortens and lengthens their chains as he pleases, and they cannot go a hair's breadth beyond his permission. The scriptures repre- sent our world in its state of guilt and misery as the kingdom of Satan ; sinners, while slaves to sin, are his subjects ; and every act of disobedience against God is an act of homage to this infernal prince. Hence Satan is called the god of this world,, 2 Cor. iv. 4 ; the 'prince of this world,, John xii. 31 ; the power of darkness,, Luke xxii. 53 ; the prince of the power of the air,, the Spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedie?ice. Eph. ii. 3. And sinners are said to be taken captive by him at his will. 2 Tim. ii. 26. Hence also the ministers of Christ, who are employed to recover sinners to a state of holiness and happiness, are represented as soldiers armed for war ; not indeed with carnal weapons, but with those which are spiritual, plain truth arguments, and miracles ; 16 182 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND and " these are made mighty through God to the pulliag down of strongholds, casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the know- ledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." 2 Cor. x. 3, 4, 5. And Chris- tians in general are represented as "wrestling, not with flesh and blood, but against principalities, against pow- ers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickednesses in high places." Eph. vi. 12. Hence also in particular it is, that the death of Christ is represented not as a defeat, but as an illustri- ous conquest gained over the powers of hell ; because, by this means, a way was opened for the deliverance of sinners from under their power, and restoring them unto liberty and the favor of God. By that strange, con- temptible weapon, the cross, and by the glorious resur- rection of Jesus, he " spoiled principalities and powers, and made a show of them openly, triumphing over them." Col. ii. 15. " Through death," says the apostle, " he destroyed him that had the power of death ; that is, the devil." Heb. ii. 14. Had not Christ by his death offered a propitiatory sacrifice for the sins of men, they would have continued for ever under the tyranny of Satan ; but he has purchased liberty, life, and salvation for them ; and thus he hath destroyed the kingdom of dark- ness, and translated multitudes from it into his own gra- cious and glorious kingdom. Hence, upon the right of redemption, his mediatorial authority extends to the infernal regions, and he con- trols and restrains those malignant, mighty, and turbu- lent potentates, according to his pleasure. Farther, the inanimate world is connected with our Lord's design to save sinners, and therefore is subjected to him as Medi- ator. He causes the sun to rise, the rain to fall, and the earth to yield her increase, to furnish provision for the subjects of his grace, and to raise, support, and accom- modate heirs for his heavenly kingdom. As for the sons of men, who are more immediately concerned in this kingdom, and for whose sake it was erected, they are all its subjects ; but then they are of different sorts, according to their characters. Multitudes are rebels against his government ; that is, they do not voluntarily submit to his authority, nor choose they to do his ser GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 189 vice : they will not obey his laws. But they are liis subjects notwithstanding ; that is, he rules and manages them as he pleases, whether they will or not. This power is necessary to carry on successfully his gracious design towards his people ; for unless he had the man- agement of his enemies, they might baffle his undertak- ings, and successfully counteract the purposes of his love. The kings of the earth, as well as vulgar rebels of a private character, have often set themselves against his kingdom, and sometimes they have flattered them- selves they had entirely demolished it.* But Jesus reigns absolute and supreme over the kings of the earth, and overrules and controls them as he thinks proper ; and he disposes all the revolutions, the rises and falls of kingdoms and empires, so as to be subservient to the great designs of his mediation ; and their united policies and powers cannot frustrate the work which he has un- dertaken. But besides these rebellious, involuntary subjects, he has (blessed be his name !) gained the con- sent of thousands, and they have become his willing subjects by their own choice. They regard his authori- ty, they love his government, they make it their study to please him, and to do his will. Over these he exer- cises a government of special grace here, and he will make them the happy subjects of the kingdom of his glory hereafter. And it is his government over these that I intend more particularly to consider. Once more, the kingdom of Jesus is not confined to this world, but all the millions of mankind in the invisible world are under his dominion, and will continue so to everlasting ages. He is the Lord of the dead and of the living, Eom. xiv. 9, and has the keys of Hades, the vast invisible world, (including heaven as well as hell) and of death. Rev. i. 18. It is he that turns the key, and opens the door of death for mortals to pass from world to world : it is he that opens the gates of heaven, and welcomes and ad- mits the nations that keep the commandments of God : and it is he that opens the prison of hell, and locks it fast upon the prisoners of divine justice. He will for ever exercise authority over the vast regions of the un- * In the lOth and last Roman persecution, Dioclesian had a msdal struck with thit; inscription, "The Christian name demolished, and lira worship of the ^ods restored." I8i THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND seen world, and the unnumbered multitudes of spirits with which they are peopled. You hence see, my breth- ren, the universal extent of the Redeemer's kingdom ; and in this respect how much does it differ from all the kingdoms of the earth 1 The kingdoms of Great Brit- ain, France, China, Persia, are but little spots of the globe. Our world has indeed been oppressed in former times with what mortals call universal monarchies ; such were the Babylonian, the Persian, the Grecian, and especially the Roman. But in truth, these were so far from being strictly universal, that a considerable part of the habitable earth was not so much as known to them. But this is an empire strictly universal. It extends over land and sea ; it reaches beyond the planetary worlds, and all the luminaries of heaven ; nay, beyond the throne of the most exalted archangels, and dowTiward to the lowest abyss of hell. An universal empire in the hands of a mortal is a huge, unwieldy thing ; a heap of confu- sion ; a burthen to mankind ; and it has always rushed headlong from its glory, and fallen to pieces by its own weight. But Jesus is equal to the immense province of an empire strictly universal : his hand is able to hold the reins ; and it is the blessing of our world to be under his administration. He will turn what appears to us scenes of confusion into perfect order, and convince all worlds that he has not taken one wrong step in the whole plan of his infinite government. The kingdoms of the world have their laws and ordi- nances, and so has the kingdom of Christ. Look into your Bibles, and there you will find the laws of his king- dom from its first foundation immediately unto the fall of man. The laws of human government are often de- fective or unrighteous 5 but these are perfect, holy, just, and good. Human laws are enforced with sanctions : but the rewards and punishments can only affect our mortal bodies, and cannot reach beyond the present life : but the sanctions of these divine laws are eternal, and there shall never be an end to their execution. Ever- lasting happiness and everlasting misery, of the most exquisite kind and the highest degree, are the rewards and punishments which the immortal King distributes among his immortal subjects ; and they become his character, and are adapted to their nature. GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 185 Human laws extend only to outward actions, but these laws reach the heart, and the principle of action within. Not a secret thought, not a motion of the soul, is ex- empted from them. If the subjects of earthly kings ob- serve a decorum in their outward conduct, and give no visible evidence of disloyalty, they are treated as good subjects, though they should be enemies in their hearts. " But Jesus is the Lord of souls ;" he makes his sub* jects bow their hearts as well as the knee to him. He sweetly commands their thoughts and affections as well as their external practice, and makes himself inwardly beloved as well as outwardly obeyed. His subjects are such on whom he may depend : they are all ready to lay down their lives for him. Love, cordial, unfeigned, ardent love, is the principle of all their obedience : and hence it is, that his commandments are not grievous, but delightful to them. Other kings have their ministers and officers of state. In like manner Jesus employs the armies of heaven as ministering spirits in his mediatorial kingdom : besides these he has ministers, of an humbler form, w^ho nego- tiate more immediately in his name with mankind. These are intrusted with the ministry of reconciliation, to beseech men, in his stead, to be reconciled to God. These are appointed to preach his w^ord, to administer his ordinances, and to manage the affairs of his kingdom. This view gives • peculiar dignity and importance to this office. These should be adorned, not like the ministers of earthly courts, with the trappings of gold and silver, but with the beauties of holiness, the ornament of a meek and quiet, zealous and faithful spirit, and a life be- coming the gospel of Christ. Other kings have their soldiers : so all the legions of the elect angels, the armies of heaven, are the soldiers of Jesus Christ, and under his command. This he assert- ed when he was in such defenceless circumstances, that he seemed to be abandoned by heaven and earth. " I could pray to my father," says he, " and he would send me more, than twelve legions of angels^ Matt. xxvi. 53. I cannot forbear reading to you one of the most majestic descriptions of this all-conquering hero and his army, which the language of morality is capable of. Kev. xix. 11. 16. " I saw heaven open," says St. John, " and be- 16* 186 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND hold a white horse," an emblem of victory and triumph, " and he that sat upon him was called. Faithful and True." How different a character from that of mortal conquer- ors ! " And in righteousness he doth judge and make war." War is generally a scene of injustice and law- less violence ; and those plagues of mankind, we call heroes and warriors, use their arms to gratify their ow^n avarice or ambition, and make encroachments upon others. Jesus, the prince of peace, makes war too, but it is in riofhteousness ; it is in the cause of riafhteousness he takes up arms. The divine description proceeds : " His eyes were as a flame of fire ; and on his head were many crowns," emblems of his manifold authority over the various kingdoms of the world, and the various regions of the universe. " And he was clothed with a vesture dipt in blood," in the blood of his enemies ; " and his name was called. The Word of God ; and the armies which were in heaven followed him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and clean :" the whitest innocence and purity, and the beauties of holi- ness are, as it were, the uniform, the regimentals of these celestial armies. " And out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations : and he shall rule them wdth a rod of iron ; and he tread- eth the wine-press of the fierceness and wrath of Al- mighty God ; and he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name written, King of kings, and Lord of lords." In w^hat manner the w^ar is carried on between the armies of heaven and the powers of hell, we know not : but that there is really something of this kind we may infer from Rev. xii. 7. 9. " There was war in heaven ; Michael and his angels fought against the dragon ; and the dra- gon fought and his angels, and prevailed not, neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil and Satan." Thus you see all the hosts of heaven are volunteers under the Captain of our salvation. Nay, he marshals the stars, and calls them by their names. The stars in their courses^ says the sublime Deborah, fought against Sisera^ the enemy of God's people. Judges v. 20. Every part of the creation serves under him, and he can commission a gnat, or a fly, or the meanest insect, to be GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 187 the executioner of his enemies. Fire and water, hurri- canes and earthquakes ; earthquakes, which have so lately shattered so great a part of our globe, now totter- ing with age, and ready to fall to pieces, and bury the inhabitants in its ruins ; all these fight under him, and conspire to avenge his quarrel with the guilty sons of men. The subjects of his grace in particular are all so many soldiers ; their life is a constant warfare ; and they are incessantly engaged in hard conflict with temptations from Avithout, and the insurrection of sin from within. Sometimes, alas ! they fall ; but their General lifts them up again, and inspires them with strength to renew the fight. They fight most success- fully upon their knees. This is the most advantageous posture for the soldiers of Jesus Christ ; for prayer brings down recruits from heaven in the hour of difii- culty. They are indeed but poor weaklings and inva- lids 5 and yet they overcome, through the blood of the Lamb ; and he makes them conquerors, yea, more than conquerors. It is the military character of Christians that gives the apostle occasion to address them in the military style, like a general at the head of his army. Eph. vi. 10 — 18. " Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his m.ight. Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteous- ness, and your feet shod with the preparation of the gos- pel of peace ; above all, taking the shield of faith, where- with ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God, praying always with all prayer and supplication."' The ministers of the gospel in particular, and especially the apostles, are soldiers, or officers, in this spiritual army. Hence St. Paul speaks of his office, in the military style j / have^ says he, fought the good fight. 2 Tim. iv. 7. We war^ says he, though it be not after the fiesh. The humble doctrines of the cross are our weapons, and these are mighty through God, to demolish the strongholds of the prince of darhiess, and to bring every thought into a joyful captivity to the obedience of faith. 2 Cor. x. 3 — 5. Fight the good fight ^ says he to Timothy. 1 Tim. vi. 12. And 188 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM AND again, thou therefore endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. 2 Tim. ii. 3. The great design of the gospel-ministry is to rescue enslaved souls from the ty- ranny of sin and Satan, and to recover them into a state of liberty and loyalty to Jesus Christ; or, in the words of the apostle, " to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God." Acts xxvi. 18. Mortals indeed are very unequal for the conflict: but their success more conspicuously shows that the " ex- cellency of the power is of God ;" and many have they subdued, through his strength, to the obedience of faith, and made the willing captives of the cross of our divine Immanuel. Other kingdoms are often founded in blood, and many lives are lost on both sides in acquiring them. The kingdom of Christ, too, was founded in blood, but it was the blood of his own heart ; life was lost in the con- flict ; but it was his o\vn ; his own life lost, to purchase life for his people. Others have waded to empire through the blood of mankind, and even of their own subjects, but Christ shed only his own blood to spare that of his soldiers. The general devotes his life as a sacrifice to save his army. The Fabii and Decii of Rome, who devoted themselves for their country, were but faint shadows of this divine bravery. Oh ! the generous patriotism, the ardent love of the Captain of our salvation ! How amiable does his character appear, in contrast with that of the kings of the earth ! They often sacrifice the lives of their subjects, while they keep themselves out of danger, or perhaps are rioting at ease in the pleasures and luxuries of a court ; but Jesus en- gaged in the conflict with death and hell alone. He He stood a single champion in a field of blood. He con- quered for his people by falling himself ; he subdued his and their enemies by resigning himself to their power. Worthy is such a general to be Commander-in-Chief of the hosts of God, and to lead the armies of heaven and earth ! Indeed much blood has been shed in carrying on this kingdom. The earth has been soaked with the blood of the saints ; and millions have resisted even unto blood, striving against sin, and nobly laid down their lives for the sake of Christ and a good conscience. Rome has been remarkably the seat of persecution , botli formerly under the heathen emperors, and in later GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. 189 times, under a succession of Popes, still nnoie bloody and tyrannical. There were no less than ten general perse- cutions under the heathen Emperors, through the vast Roman empire, in a little more than two hundred years, which followed one another in a close succession ; in which innumerable multitudes of Christians lost their lives by an endless variety of tortures. And since the church of Rome has usurped her authority, the blood of the saints has hardly ever ceased running in some country or other ; though, blessed be God, many king- doms shook off the yoke at the ever-memorable period of the Reformation, above two hundred years ago : which has greatly weakened that persecuting power. This is that mystical Babylon which was represented to St. John as " drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus." Rev. xvii. 6 In her was found the blood of the prophets, and of the saints, and of all that were slain upon the earth. Chap, xviii. 24. And these scenes of blood are still perpe- trated in France, that plague of Europe, that has of late stretched her murderous arm across the wide ocean, to disturb us in these regions of peace. There the Pro- testants are still plundered, chained to the galleys, broken alive on the torturing wheel, denied the poor favor of abandoning their country and their all, and flj^- ing naked to beg their bread in other nations. Thus the harmless subjects of the Prince of Peace have ever been slaughtered from age to age, and yet they are repre- sented as triumphant conquerors. Hear a poor perse- cuted Paul on this head : " In tribulation, in distress, in persecution, in nakedness, in peril and sword, we are conquerors, we are more than conquerors through him that loved us." Rom. viii. 36, 37. " Thanks be To God, who always causeth us to triumph in Christ." 2 Cor. ii. 14. " Whatsoever is born of God," says the evange- list, " overcometh the world." 1 John v. 4. Whence came that glorious army which we so often see in the Revelation % We are told " they came out of great tri- bulation." Chap. vii. 14. " And they overcame by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony ; and they loved not their lives unto the death." Chap, xii. 11. They that suffered tortures and death under the beast, are said to have gotten the victory over him. 190 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOx^I AND Chap. XV. ii. Victory and triumph sound strange when thus ascribed j — but the gospel helps us to understand this mystery. By these sufferings they obtained the illustrious crown of martyrdom, and peculiar degrees of glory and happiness through an endless duration. Their death was but a short transition from the lowest and more remote regions of their Redeemer's kingdom into his immediate presence and glorious court in hea- ven. A temporal death is rewarded with an immortal life : and " their light afflictions which were but for a moment, wrought out for them a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 2 Cor. iv. 17. Even in the agonies of torture, their souls were often filled with such delightful sensations of the love of God, as swal- lowed up the sensations of bodily pain ; and a bed of flames was sweeter to them than a bed of roses. Their souls were beyond the reach of all the instruments of torment ; and as to their bodies, they shall yet have a glorious resurrection to a blessed immortality. And now, I leave you to judge, whether they or their ene- mies got the victory in this conflict ; and which had most cause to triumph. Like their Master, they rose by falling ; they triumphed over their enemies by submit- ting, like lambs, to their power. If the soldiers of other generals die in the field, it is not in the power of their commanders to reward them. But the soldiers of Jesus Christ, by dying, are, as it were, carried in triumph from the field of blood into the presence of their Master, to receive his approbation, and a glorious crown. Death puts them into a capacity of receiving and enjoying greater rewards than they are capable of in the present state. And thus it appears, that his soldiers always win the day ; or, as the apostle expresses it, he causes them always to triumph ; and not one of them has ever been or ever shall be defeated, however weak and helpless in himself, and however terrible the power of his enemies And O ! when all these warriors meet at length from every corner of the earth, and, as it were, pass in review before their Genera] in the fields of heaven, with their robes washed in his blood, with palms of victory in their hands, and crowns of glory on their heads, all dressed in uniform with garments of salvation, what a GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST 19 1 glorious army will they make ! and how will they cause heaven to ring with shouts of joy and triumph ! Tiie founders of earthly kingdoms are famous for their heroic actions. They have braved the duugers of sea and land, routed powerful armies, and subjected nations to their will. They have shed rivers of blood, laid cities in ruins, and countries in desolation. Thcr-e are the ex- ploits which have rendered the Alexanders, the Ca;sars, and other conquerors of this world, famous through all nations and ages. Jesus had his exploits too ; but they were all of the gracious and beneficent kind. His con- quests Avere so many deliverances, and his victories sal- vations. He subdued in order to set free ; and made captives to deliver them from slavery. He conquered the legions of hell, that seemed let loose at that time, that he might have opportunity of displaying his power over them, and that mankind might be sensible how much they needed a deliverer from their tyranny. He triumphed over the temptations of Satan in the wilder- ness, by a quotation from his own word. He rescued wretched creatures from his power by an almighty com- mand. He conquered the most inveterate and stubborn diseases, and restored health and vigor with a word of his mouth. He vanquished stubborn souls with the power of his love, and made them his willing people. He tri- umphed over death, the king of terrors, and delivered Lazarus from the prison of the grave, as an earnest and first-fruits of a general resurrection. Nay, by his own inherent powers he broke the bonds of death, and forced his way to his native heaven. He destroyed him that had the power of death, i. e. the devil, by his own death, and laid the foundation in his own blood for destroying his usurped kingdom, and forming a glorious kingdom of willing subjects redeemed from his tyranny. The death of some great conquerors, particularly of Ju lius Ca)sar, is said be have been prognosticated or attended with prodigies : but none equal to those which solemniz- ed the death of Jesus. The earth trembled, the rocks were burst to pieces, the vail of the temple was rent, the heavens were clothed in mourning, and the dead started into life : and no wonder, when the Lord of nature was expiring upon a cross. He subdued and calmed the stormy wind, and the boisterous waves of the sea. In 192 THE MEDIATORIAL KIISGD03I AIND short, he showed an absolute sovereignty over universai nature, and managed the most unruly elements with a single word. Other conquerors have gone from country to country, carrying desolation along with them ; Jesus went about doing good. His miraculous powers were but powers of miraculous mercy and beneficence. He could easily have advanced himself to a temporal king- dom, and routed all the forces of the earth ; but he had no ambition of this kind. He that raised Lazarus from the grave could easily restore his soldiers to vigor and life, after they had been wounded or killed. He that fed five thousand with five loaves and two fishes, could have supported his army with plenty of provision in the greatest scarcity. He that walked upon the boisterous ocean, and enabled Peter to do the same, could easily have transported his forces from country to country, without the conveyance of ships. Nay, he was capable by his own single power to have gained universal con- quest. What could all the armies of the earth have done against Him, who struck an armed company down to the earth with only a word of his mouth \ But these were not the victories he affected ; Victories of grace, deliver- ances for the oppressed, salvation for the lost ; these were his heroic actions. He glories in his being mighty to save. Isa. Ixiii. 1. When his warm disciples made a motion that he should employ his miraculous powers to punish the Samaritans who ungratefully refused him entertainment, he rebuked them, and answered like the Prince of Peace, The so7i of Man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save. Luke ix. 56. He came to seek and to save that which was lost. Luke xix. 10. O how amiable a character this ! How much more lovely the Savior of sinners, the Deliverer of souls, than the en- slavers and destroyers of mankind ; which is the gene- ral character of the renowned heroes of our world. Who has ever performed such truly heroic and brave actions as this almighty conqueror ! He has pardoned the most aggravated crimes, in a consistency with the hciiors of the divine government: he has delivered an innumerable multitude of immortal souls from the tyran- ny of sin and the powers of hell, set the prisoners free, and brought them into the liberty of the Son of God j he has peopled heaven with redeemed slaves, and ad- GLOKlEd OF JKSU6 ClIULST. 193 vuiiced them to royal dignity. "All his subjects are kings." Kev. i. 6. " To him that overcometh," says he, "will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne,'* Rev. iii. 21. They shall be adorned with royal robes and crou'ns of unfading glory. They are advanced to empire over their lusts and passions, and all their ene- mies. Who ever gave such encouragement to his sol- diers as this, If we suffer with kim, we know we skull also reign icith him ? 2 Tim. ii. 12. What mortal general could bestow immortality and perfect happiness upon his favorites 1 But these boundless blessings Jesus has to bestow. In human governments merit is often neg- lected, and those who serve their country best, are often rewarded with degradation. But none have ever served the King of kings in vain. The least good action, even the giving a cup of water to one of his necessitous saints, shall not pass unrewarded in his government. Other kings have their arms, their swords, their can- non, and other instruments of destruction j and with these they acquire and defend their dominions. Jesus, our king, has his arms too ; but O ! of how different a kind ! The force of evidence and conviction in his doc- trine, attested with miracles, the energy of his dying love, the gentle, and yet efficacious influence of his holy Spirit ; these are the weapons with which he conquered the world. His gospel is the great magazine from whence his apostles, the first founders of his kingdom, drew their arms ; and with these they subdued the na- tions to the obedience of faith. " The gospel," says St. Paul, "is the power of God unto salvation." Rom. i. 16. The humble doctrines of the cross became almighty, and bore down all before them, and after a time subdued the vast Roman empire which had subdued the world. The holy Spirit gave edge and force to these weapons ; and, blessed be God, though they are quite impotent without his assistance, yet when he concurs they are still sue- ce»sful. Many stubborn sinners have been unable to re sist the preaching of Christ crucified: they have found him indeed the power of God. And is it not astonish- ing, that any one should be able to stand it out against his dying love, and continue the enemy of his cross 1 " I," says ho, "if I be lifted up from the earth," i. e. if 17 194 THE MED/ATORIAL KINGDOM AND I be suspended on the cross, " will draw all men unto me." John xii. 32. You see he expected his cross would be an irresistible Aveapon. And O ! blessed Jesus, who can see thee expiring there in agonies of torture and love ; who can see thy blood gushing in streams from every vein ; who can hear thee there, and not melt into submission at thy feet ! Is there one heart in this as sembly proof against the energy of this bleeding, ago- nizing, dying love 1 Methinks such a sight must kindle a correspondent aflection in your hearts towards him and it is an exploit of wickedness, it is the last desperate effort of an impenetrable heart, to be able to resist. Other conquerors march at the head of their troops, with all the ensigns of power and grandeur, and theii forces numerous, inured to war, and well armed ; and from such appearances and preparations, who is there but what expects victory 1 But see the despised Naza- rene, without riches, without arms, without forces, con- flicting with the united powers of earth and hell ; or see a company of poor fishermen and a tent-maker, with no other powers but those of doing good, with no other arms but those of reason, and the strange, unpopular doctrines of a crucified Christ ! see the professed fol- lowers of a Master that was hung like a malefactor and a slave, see these men marching out to encounter the powers of darkness, the whole strength of the Roman empire, the lusts, prejudices, and interests of all nations, and traveling from country to country, without guards, without friends, exposed to insult and contempt, to the rage of persecution, to all manner of torture and tor- mented deaths which earth or hell could invent : see this little army marching into the wide world, in these cir- cumstances, and can you expect they will have any suc- cess 1 Does this appear a promising expedition 1 No ; human reason would forebode they will soon be cut in pieces, and the Christian cause buried with them. But tliese unpromising champions, with the aid of the Holy Spirit, conquered the world, and spread the religion of the crucified Jesus among all nations. It is true they lost their lives in the cause, like brave soldiers ; but the cause did not die with them. Their blood proved the seed of the church. Their cause is immortal and invin- cible. Let devils in hell, let Heathens, Jews, and Ma- GLORIES OF JESUS CHRIST. I9ft hometans, let Atheists, Freethinkers, Papists, and perse- cutors of every character do their worst ; still this cause will live in spite of them. All the enemies of Christ will he obliged to confess at last, with Julian the apos- tate Roman emperor, who exerted all his art to abolish Christianity ; but when mortally wounded in battle, out- rageously sprinkled his blood towards heaven, and cried out, Vicisti^ 0 GalilcEe ! " Thou hast conquered, O Gali- lean !" Yes, my brethren, Jesus, the Prophet of Galilee, will push his conquest from country to country, until all nations submit to him. And, blessed be his name, his victorious arm has reached to us in these ends of the earth : here he has subdued some obstinate rebels, and made their reluctant souls willingly bow in affectionate homage to him. And may I not produce some of you as the trophies of his victory 1 Has he not rooted out the enmity of your carnal minds, and sweetly constrained you to the most affectionate obedience 1 Thus, blessed Jesus ! thus go on conquering and to conquer. Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, 0 most mighty ! and in thy glory and majesty ride prosperously through our land, and make this country a dutiful province of the dominion of thy grace. My brethren, should we all become his will- ing subjects, he would no longer suffer the perfidious slaves of France, 'and their savage allies, to chastise and punish us for our rebellion against him ; hut peace should again run down like a river, and righteousness like a mighty stream. The kingdoms of the world have their rise, their pro- gress, perfection, declension, and ruin. And in these things, the kingdom of Christ bears some resemblance to them, excepting that it shall never have an end. Its rise was small at first, and it has passed through many revolutions in various ages. It was first founded in the family of Adam, but in about 1600 years, the space between the creation and the flood, it was almost demolished by the wickedness of the world ; and at length confined to the little family of Noah. After the flood, the world soon fell into idolatry, but, that this kingdom of Christ might not be destroyed quite, it was erected in the family of Abraham ; and among the Jews it continued until the coming of Christ in the flesh. This was indeed but the infancy of his kingdom, and indeed 196 THIi: MEDIATORIAL KIKGDOM AND is seldom called by that name. It is the gospel consti- tution that is represented as the kingdom of Christ, in a special sense. Thisv/as but very small and unpromising at first. When its founder was dying upon Calvary, and all his followers had forsaken him and fled, who would have thought it would ever have come to any thing, ever have recovered \ But it revived with him ; and when he furnished his apostles with gifts and graces for their mis- sion, and sent them forth to increase his kingdom, it made its progress through the world with amazing ra- pidity, notwithstanding it met with very early and pow- erful opposition. The Jews set themselves against it, and raised persecutions against its ministers, wherever they went. And presently the tyrant Nero employed all the power of the Roman empire to crush them. Peter, Paul, and thousands of the Christians fell a prey to his rage, like sheep for the slaughter. This persecution was continued under his successors with but little inter- ruption, for about two hundred years. But, under all these pressures, the church bore np her head ; yea, the more she was trodden, the more she spread and flourished ; and at length she was delivered from oppression by Constantine the Great, about the year 420. But now she had a more dangerous enemy to en- counter, I mean prosperity ; and this did her much more injury than all the persecutions of her enemies. Now the kingdom of Christ began to be corrupted with here- sies ; the ministry of the gospel, formerly the most dan- gerous post in the world, now became a place of honor and profit, and men began to thrust themselves into it from principles of avarice and ambition j supersti- tion and corruption of morals increased 5 and at length the Bishop of Rome set up for universal head of the church in the year 606 ; and gradually the whole mon- strous system of popery was formed and established, and continued in force for near a thousand years. The king- dom of Christ was now at a low ebb ; and tyranny and superstition reigned under that name over the greatest part of the Christian world. Nevertheless, our Lord still had his witnesses. The Waldenses and Albigenses, John Huss, and Jerome of Prague, and Wickliffe in Eng- land, opposed the torrent of corruption ; until at length, Luther, Calvin, Zuinglius, and several others, were made GLORIES or JESUS CHRIST. 197 the honored instruments of introducing the Eeformation from popery ; when sundry whole kingdoms, which had given their power to the bcList, and particularly our mo- ther-country, shook off the papal authority, and admitted the pure light of the gospel. Since that time the king- dom of Christ has struggled hard, and it has lost ground in several countries ; particularly in France, Poland, Bo- hemia, &c., where there once were many Protestant churches ; but they are now in ruins. And, alas ! those countries that still retain the reformed religion, have too generally reduced it into a mere formality ; and it has but little influence upon the hearts and lives even of its professors. Thus we find the case remarkable among us. This gracious kingdom miakes but little way in Vir- ginia. The calamities of war and famine cannot, alas ! draw subjects to it; but we seem generally determined to perish in our rebellion rather than submit. Thus it has been in this country from its first settlement ; and how long it will continue in this situation is unknown to mortals : however, this we may know, it will not be so always. We have the strongest assurances that Jesus \Yil\ yet take to him his strong power, and reign in a more extensive and illustrious manner than he has ever yet done ; and that the kingdoms of the earth shall yet become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ. There are various parts of the heathen world where the gospel has never yet been ; and the Jews have never yet been converted as a nation ; but both the calling of the Jews and the fulness of the Gentiles, you will find plainly foretold in the 11th chapter of the Romans ; and it is, no doubt, to render the accomplishment of this event the more conspicuous, that the Jews, who are dispersed all over the world, have, by a strange, unprecedented, and singular providence, been kept a distinct people to this day, for 1,700 years 5 though all other nations have been so mixed and blended together, who were not half so much dispersed into diflerent countries, that their dis- tinct original cannot be traced. Posterity shall see this glorious event in some happy future period. How far it IS from us I will not determine : though, upon some grounds, I apprehend it is not very remote. I shall live and die in the unshaken belief that our guilty world shall yet see glorious days. Yes, my brethren, this desp'sed 17* j98 THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM, &C. gospel, that has so little effect in our age and countrj% shall yet shine like lightning, or like the sun, through all the dark regions of the earth. It shall triumph over Hea- thenism, Mahometanism, Judaism, Popery, and all those dangerous errors that have infected the Christian church. This gospel, poor negroes, shall yet reach your country- men, whom you left behind you in Africa, in darkness and the shadow of death, and bless your eyes with the light of salvation : and the Indian savages, that are now ravaging our country, shall yet be transformed into lambs and doves by the gospel of peace. The scheme of Pro- vidence is not yet completed, and much remains to be accomplished of what God has spoken by his prophets, to ripen the world for the universal judgment ; but when all these things are finished, then proclamation shall be made throughout all nature, "That time shall be no more : " then the Supreme Judge, the same Jesus that ascended the cross, will ascend the throne, and review the affairs of time : then will he put an end to the pre- sent course of nature, and the present form of adminis- tration. Then shall heaven and hell be filled with their respective inhabitants : then will time close, and eternity riJA on in one uniform tenor, without end. But the king- dom of Christ, though altered in its situation and form of government, will not then come to a conclusion. His kingdom is strictly the kingdom of heaven ; and at the end of this world, his subjects will only be removed from these lower regions into a more glorious country, Avhere they and their King shall live together for ever in the most endearing intimacy ; where the noise and commo- tions of this restless world, the revolutions and perturb- ations of kingdoms, the terrors of war and persecution, shall no more reach them ; but all will be perfect peace, love, and happiness, through immeasurable duration. This is the last and most illustrious state of the kingdom of Christ, now so small and weak in appearance : this is the final grand result of his administration : and it will appear to admiring worlds wisely planned, gloriously executed, and perfectly finished. What conqueror ever erected such a kingdom ! What subjects so completely, so lastingly happy, as those of the blessed Jesus! THINGS UNSEEN TO BE PREFERRED, &C. 199 SERMON XI. THINGS UNSEEN TO BE PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 2 Cor. iv. 18. — While we look not at the things which are see?i, but at the things which are not seen ; for the things which are seen are temj)oral : but the things which ai e not seen are eternal. Among all the causes of the stupid unconcernedness of sinners about religion, and the feeble endeavors of saints to improve in it, there is none more common or more effectual, than their not forming a due estimate of the things of time, in comparison of those of eternity. Our present affairs engross all our thoughts, and exhaust all our activity, though they are but transitory trifles ; while the awful realities of the future world are hid from our eyes by the veil of flesh and the clouds of ignorance. Did these break in upon our minds in all their almighty evidence and tremendous importance, they would anni- hilate the most majestic vanities of the present state, ob- scure the glare of earthly glory, render all its pleasures insipid, and give us a noble sensibility under all its sor- rows. A realizing view of these would shock the liber- tine in his thoughtless career, tear off the hypocrite's mask, and inflame the devotion of the languishing saints. The concern of mankind would then be how they might make a safe exit out of this world, and not how they may live happy in it. Present pleasure and pain would be swallowed up in the prospect of everlasting happiness or misery hereafter. Eternity, awful eternity, would then be our serious contemplation. The pleasures of sin would strike us with horror, if they issue in eternal pain, and our present afflictions, however tedious and severe, would appear but light and momentary, if they work out for us afar more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. These were the views the apostle had of things, and these their effects upon him. He informs us in this chapter of his unwearied zeal to propagate the gospel amidst all the hardships and dangers that attend the painful discharge of his ministry. Though he bore about 200 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE in his body the dying of the Lord Jesus, though he wan always delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, yet he faint ed not ; and this was the prospect that animated him, that his " light affliction, which was but for a moment, would work out for him a far more exceeding and eter nal weight of glory." When we view his sufferings absolutely, without any reference to eternity, they wcro very heavy and of many years' continuance ; and when he represents them in this view, how moving is the rela- tion ! see 2 Cor. xi. 23-29. But when he views them in the light of eternity, and compared Vv'ith their glorious issues, they sink into nothing; then scourging, stoning, imprisonment, and all the various deaths to which he w^as daily exposed, arc but light, trifling afflictions, hard- ly worth naming ; then a series of uninterrupted suffer- ings for many years are but afflictions that endure for a moment. And when he views a glorious futurity, hu- man language cannot express the ideas he has of the happiness reserved for him ; it is " a far more exceed- ing and eternal weight of glory ;" a noble sentiment ! and expressed in the sublimest manner the language of mortals can admit of. It is glory, in opposition to affliction ; a weight of glo- ry, in opposition to light affliction ; a massy, oppressive blessedness, which it requires all the powers of the soul, in their full exertion, to support : and in opposition to affliction for a moment, it is eternal glory : to finish all, it is a/ar more exceeding glory.* What greater idea can be grasped by the human mind, or expressed in the fee- ble language of mortality ! Nothing but feeling that weight of glory could enlarge his conception : and no- thing but the dialect of heaven could better express it. No wonder that, with this view of things, " he shoukl reckon that the sufferings of the present life are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be re- vealed." Rom. viii. 18. The apostle observes, that he formed this estimate of things, while he looked not at the " things which are seen, but at those which are not seen." By the things that are seen, are meant the present life, and all the • The original far surpasses the best translation. The adjective -dhso- lute [ro iAa^pai/ rrj? 0>lt//fwj] is very significant ; and ;ja9' vi:e^o\rii' nj viT£po)^t]v is mimiiable in any la g a,^'. PREFERRELi TO THINGS SEEN. 201 things of time ; all the pleasures and pains, all the labors, pursuits, and aniusenienls oi" the present state. By the things that are not seen, are intended all the invisible realities of the eternal world : all tlic beings, the enjoy- ments and suflerings that lie beyond the reach of human sight ; as the great Father of spirits, the joys of para- disc, and the punishment of hell. We look on these in- visible things, and not on those that are seen. This seems like a contradiction ; but it is easily solved by understanding this act, described by looking, to be the act not of the bodily eye, but of faith and enlightened reason. Faith is defined by this apostle to be " the sub- stance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen." Heb. xi. 1. And it is the apostle's chief de- sign in that chapter, to give instances of the surprising eflicacy of such a realizing belief of eternal invisible things ; see particularly ver. 10, 1.3, 14, 16, 25, 26, 27. Hence to look not at visible, but at invisible things, sig- nifies that the apostle made the latter the chief obje^-'ts of his contemplations, that he was governed in the whole of his conduct by the impression of eternal things, and not by the present ; that he formed his maxims and schemes from a comprehensive survey of futurities, and not from a partial view of things present ; and, in short, that he had acted as an expectant of eternity, and not as an everlasting inhabitant of this wretched world. This he elsewhere expresses in equivalent terms, " We wallc by faith and not by sight." 2 Cor. v. 7. Further, he assigns a reason why he had a greater re- gard to invisible things than visible in the regulating of his conduct ; " for the things which are seen, are tem- poral, but the things which are not seen," says he, " are eternal." An important reason indeed ! Eternity annexed to a trifle would advance it into infinite impor- tance, but when it is the attribute of the most perfect happiness, or of the most exquisite misery, then it tran- scends all comparison : then all temporal happiness and misery, however great and long-continued, shrink into nothing, are droAvned and lost, like the small drop of a bucket in the boundless ocean. My present design, and the contents of the text, pre- scribe to me the following method : I. I shall give you a comparative view of visible and 202 THINGS UT^SEExN TO BE invisible things, that you may see the trifling nature of the one, and the importance of the other. This I choose to do under one head, because by placing these two classes of things in an immediate opposition, we may the more easily compare them, and see their infinite dis- parity. And, II. I shall show you the great and happy influence a suitable impression of the superior importance of invisi- ble to visible things would have upon us. I. I shall give you a comparative view of visible and invisible things ; and Ave may compare visible and invi sible things, as to their intrinsic value, and as to theii duration. 1. As to their intrinsic value ; and in this respect the disparity is inconceivable. This I shall illustrate in the two comprehensive in- stances of pleasure and pain. To shun the one, and ob- tain the other, is the natural effort of the human mind. This is its aim in all its endeavors and pursuits. The innate desire of happiness and aversion to misery are the two great springs of all human activity : and, were these springs relaxed or broken, all business would cease, all activity would stagnate, and universal torpor would seize the world. And these principles are co-existent with the soul itself, and will continue in full vigor in a future state. Nay, as the soul will then be matured, and all its powers arrived to their complete perfection, this eagerness after happiness, and aversion to misery, will be also more quick and vigorous. The soul in its pre- sent state of infancy, like a young child, or a man en- feebled and stupified by sickness, is incapable of very deep sensations of pleasure and pain ; and hence an ex- cess of joy, as well as sorrow, has sometimes dissolved its feeble union with the body. On this account we are incapable of such degrees of happiness or misery from the things of this world as beings of more lively sensa- tions might receive from them ; and much more are we incapable of the happiness or misery of the future world, until we have put on immortality. We cannot see God and live. Should the glory of heaven blaze upon U5 in all its insuperable splendor, it would overwhelm our feeble nature ; we could not support such a weight of glory. And one twinge of the agonies of hell would PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 203 dislodge the soul from its earthly mansion : one pang would convulse and stupify it, were not its powers strengthened by the separation from the body. But in the future world all the powers of the soul Avill be ma ture and strong, and the body will be clothed with im- mortality ; the union between them after the resurrec- tion will be hiseparable, and able to support the most op- pressive weight of glory, or the most intolerable load of torment. Hence it follows that pleasure and pain include all that we can desire or fear in the present or future world ; and therefore a comparative view^ of present and future pleasure and pain is sufficient to enable us to form a due estimate of visible and invisible things. By pre- sent pleasure I mean all the happiness we can receive from present things, as from riches, honors, sensual gra- tifications, learning, and intellectual improvements, and all the amusements and exercises of this life. And by future pleasure, or the pleasure which results from invi- sible things, I mean all the fruitions and enjoyments in which heavenly happiness consists. By present pain, I intend all the uneasiness which we can receive from the things of the present life ; as poverty, losses, disappoint- ments, bereavements, sickness, and bodily pains. And by future pain, I mean all the punishments of hell 5 as banish- ment from God, and a privation of all created blessings, the agonizing reflections of a guilty conscience, the hor- rid company and exprobations of infernal ghosts, and the torture of infernal flames. Now let us put these in the balance, and the one will sink into nothing, and the other rise into infinite importance. Temporal things are of a contracted nature, and not adequate to the capacities of the human soul ; but eter- nal things are great, and capable of communicating all the happiness and misery which it can receive. The soul in its present state is not capable of such degrees of happiness and misery as it will be in the future, when it dwells among invisible realities. All that pleasure and pain which w^e receive from things that are seen, are in- termmgled with some ingredients of a contrary nature ; but those proceeding from things that are not seen, are pure and unmingled. 1. Visible things are not equal to the capacities of the human soul. This little spark of being, the soul, which 904< THINGS UNSEEN TO BE lies obscured in this prison of flesh, gives frequent dis- coveries of surprising powers : its desires, in particular, have a kind of infinity. But all temporary objects are mean and contracted ; they cannot alford it a happiness equal to its capacity, nor render it as miserable as its capacity of suffering will bear. Hence, in the greatest affluence of temporal enjoyments, in the midst of honor?, pleasures, riches, friends, &c., it still feels a painful void within, and finds an unknown something wanting to com plete its happiness. Kings have been unhappy upon their thrones, and all their grandeur has been but majes- tic misery. So Solomon found it, who had opportunity and curiosity to make the experiment ; • and this is his verdict upon all earthly enjoyments, after the most im- partial trial : " Vanity of vanities," saith the Preacher, " vanity of vanities ; all is vanity and vexation of spirit." On the other hand, the soul may possess some degree of happiness, under all the miseries it is capable of suf- fering from external and temporal things. Guilt indeed denies it this support 5 but if there be no intestine broils, no anguish resulting from its own reflections, not all the visible things can render it perfectly miserable ; its ca- pacity of suffering is not put to its utmost stretch. This has been attested by the experience of multitudes who have suffered for righteousness' sake. But O, when we take a survey of invisible things, we find them all great and majestic, not only equal but infinitely superior to the most enlarged powers of the human and even of the an- gelic nature. In the eternal world the great Invisible dwells, and there he acts with his own immediate hand. It is he that immediately communicates happiness through the heavenly regions ; and it is his immediate breath that, like a stream of brimstone, kindles the flames of hell ; whereas, in the present world, he rarely com- municates happiness, and inflicts punishment, but by the instrumentality of creatures ; and it is impossible the extremes of either should be communicated through this channel. This the infinite God alone can do, and, though in the future world he will use his creatures to heighten the happiness or misery of each other, yet he will havp a more immediate agency in them himself, He will com- municate happiness immediately from himself, the infi- nite fountain of it, into the vessels of mercy : and he will PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 205 immediately show his wrath, and make his power known upon the vessels of wrath. I may add, tliat those crea- tures, angels and devils, which will be the instruments of happiness or misery to the human soul in the invisible world, are incomparably more powerful than any in thi? and consequently capable of contributing more to our pleasure or pain. And let me also observe, that all the objects about which our faculties will be employed then, will be great and majestic ; whereas, at present, we gro- vel among little sordid things. The objects of our con- templation will then be either the unveiled glories of the divine nature, and the naked wonders of creation, provi- dence, and redemption ; or the terrors of divine justice, the dreadful nature and aggravations of our sin, the hor- rors of everlasting punishment, &c. And since this is the case, how little should we regard the things that are seen, in comparison of them that are not seen 1 But though visible things were adequate to our present ca- pacities, yet they are not to be compared with the things that are not seen ; because, 2. The soul is at present in a state of infancy, and in- capable of such degrees of pleasure or pain as it can bear in the future world. The enjoyments of this life are like the playthings of children ; and none but child- ish souls would trifle with them, or fret and vex them- selves or one another about them ; but the invisible real- ities before us are manly and great, and such as an adult soul ought to concern itself with. The soul in another world can no more be happj^ or miserable from such toys, than men can be happy or wretched in the posses- sion or loss of the baubles of children ; it will then de- mand great things to give it pleasure or pain. The apos- tle illustrates this matter in this manner : 1 Cor. xiii. 9, 10, 11. How foolish is it then to be chiefly governed by these puerilities, while we neglect the manly concern of eternity, that can make our souls perfectly happy or miserable, when their powers are come to perfection ! 3. And lastly. All the happiness and misery of the present state, resulting from things that are seen, are in- termingled with contrary ingredients. We are never so happy in this world as to have no uneasiness ; in the greatest afliuence we languish for want of some absent gcod, or grieve under sojne incumbent evil. On tho 18 206 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE Other hand, we are never so miserable as to have no in- gredient of happiness. When we labor under a thousand calamities, w^e may still see ourselves surrounded with, perhaps, an equal number of blessings. And where is there a wretch so miserable as to endure simple un- mingled misery, without one comfortable ingredient 1 But in the invisible world there is an eternal separation made between good and evil, pleasure and pain ; and they shall never mingle more. In heaven, the rivers of pleasure flow untroubled with a drop of sorrow ; in hell, there is not a drop of water to mitigate the fury of the flame. And who then would not prefer the things that are not seen to those that are seen % Especially if we consider, 4. The infinite disparity between them as to duration. This is the difference particularly intended in the text ; the thi?igs that are see?i are temporal ; but the things that are not see?? are etermal. The transitoriness of visible things implies, both that the things themselves are perishable, and they may soon leave us ; and that our residence among them is tempo- rary, and we must soon leave them. And the eternity of invisible things implies quite the contrary, that the things themselves are of endless dura- tion ; and that we shall always exist to receive happi- ness or misery from them. Before we illustrate these instances of disparity, let us take a view of Time and Eternity in themselves, and ViZ compared to one another. Time is the duration of creatures in the present state It commenced at the creation, and near 6000 years of it are since elapsed ; and how much of it yet remains we know not. But this we know, that the duration of the world itself is as nothing in comparison of eternity. But what is our duration compared with the duration even of this world ? It is but a span, a hair's-breadth ; sixty, seventy, or eighty years, is generally the highest standard of human life, and it is by far the smallest num- ber of mankind that arrives to these periods. The most of them die like a flower blasted in the morning, or at noon ; and we have more reason to expect it will be our fate than to hope the contrary. Now the span of time we enjoy in life is all our time ; we have no more pro PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 207 perty in the rest of it than in the years before the flood. All beside is eternity " Eternity !" We are alarmed at the sound ! Lost in the prospect ! Eternity with respect to God, is a duration without beginning as well as without end ! Eternity, as it is the attribute of human nature, is a duration that had a beginning but shall never have an end. This is inalienably entailed upon us poor dying worms : and let us survey our inheritance. Eternity ! it is a duration that excludes all number and computation ; days, and months, and years, yea, and ages, are lost in it, like drops in the ocean. Millions of millions of years, as many years as there are sands on the sea-shore, or particles of dust in the globe of the earth, and these multiplied to the highest reach of number, all these are nothing to eternity. They do not bear the least imagin- able proportion to it ; for these will come to an end, as certain as day ; but eternity will never, never come to an end. It is a line without end ; it is an ocean without a shore. Alas ! what shall I say of it ! It is an infinite unknown something, that neither human thought can grasp, nor human language describe. Now place time in comparison with eternity, and what is it 1 It shrinks into nothing, and less than nothing. What then is that little span of time in which we have any property 1 Alas ! it is too diminutive a point to be conceived. Indeed, properly speaking, we can call no part of time our own but the present moment, this fleet- ing now : future time is uncertain, and we may never en- joy it ; the breath we now respire may be our last ; and as to our past time, it is gone, and will never be ours again. Our past days are dead and buried, though per- haps guilt, their ghost, may haunt us still. And what is a moment to eternity 1 The disparity is too great to admit of comparison. Let me now resume the former particulars, implied in the transitoriness of visible and eternity of invisible things. Visible things are perishable and may soon leave us. When we think they are ours, they often fly from our embrace. Riches may vanish into smoke and ashes by an accidental fire. We may be thrown down from the pinnacle of honor, and sink the lower into disgrace. Sensual pleasures often end in satiety and disgust, or in 208 THINGS UNSEEN TO BE sickness and death. Our friends are torn from our bleeding hearts by the inexorable hand of death. Our liberty and property may be wrested from ns by the hand of tyranny, oppression, or fraud. In a word, what do we enjoy but we may lose 1 On the other hand, our miseries here are temporary ; the heart receives many a wound, but it heals again. Poverty may end in riches ; a clouded character may clear up, and from disgrace we may rise to honor ; we may recover from sickness ; and if we lose one comfort, we may obtain another. But in eternity every thing is everlasting and unchangeable. Happiness and misery are both of them without end ; and the subjects of both well know that this is the case. It is this perpetuity that finishes that happiness of the in- habitants of heaven ; the least suspicion of an end would intermingle itself with all their enjoyments, and embitter them : and the greater the happiness, the greater the anxiety at the expectation of losing it. But O, how tran- sporting for the saints on high to look forward through the succession of eternal ages, with an assurance that they shall be happy through them ail, and that they shall feel no change but from glory to glory ! On the other hand, this is the bitterest ingredient in the cup of divine displeasure in the future state, that the misery is eternal. O, with what horror does that despairing cry. For ever, for ever, for ever ! echo through the vaults of hell 1 Eternity is such an important attribute, that it gives in- finite weight to things that would be insignificant, were thej' temporary. A small degree of happiness, if it be eternal, exceeds the greatest degree that is transitory ; and a small degree of misery that is everlasting, is of greater importance than the greatest degree that soon comes to an end. Would you rather endure the most painful tortures that nature can bear for a moment, than an eternal toothache or headache ] Again, should we consider all the ingredients and causes of future happi- ness and misery, we should find them all everlasting. The blessed God is an inexhaustible perennial fountain of bliss ; his image can never be erased from the hearts of glorified spirits ; the great contemplation will always lie obvious to them ; and they will always exist as the partakers and promoters of mutual bliss. On the other hand, in hell the worm of conscience dieth not, and the PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 209 fire is not quenched ; divine justice is immortal ; malig- nant spirits will always exist as mutual tormentors, and their wicked habits will never be extirpated. And now, need I ofier any thing farther to convince you of the superior importance of invisible and eternal to visible and temporary things 1 Can a rational crea- ture be at a loss to choose in so plain a case 1 Can you need any arguments to convince you that an eternity of the most perfect happiness is rather to be chosen than a few years of sordid, unsatisfying delight 1 Or that the former should not be forfeited for the sake of the latter 1 Have you any remaining scruples, whether the little anx- ieties and mortifications of a pious life are more intole- rable than everlasting punishment 1 O ! it is a plain case : what then mean an infatuated world, who lay out all their concern on temporal things, and neglect the im- portant affairs of eternity 1 Let us illustrate this matter by supposition. Suppose a bird were to pick up and carry away a grain of sand or dust from the globe of this earth once in a thousand years, till it should be at length wholly carried away ; the duration which this would take up appears a kind of eternity to us. Now suppose it were put to our choice, either to be happy during this time, and miserable ever after, or to be miserable during this time, and happy ever after, which would you choose 1 Why, though this duration seems endless, yet he would be a fool that would not make the latter choice ; for, 0, O ! behind this vast duration, there lies an eternity, which exceeds it infinitely more than this duration exceeds a moment. But we have no such seemingly puzzling choice as this ; the matter with us stands thus — Will you choose the little sordid pleasures of sin that may perhaps not last an hour, at most, not many years, rather than everlasting pleasure of the sublimest kind 1 Will you rather endure intole- rable torment for ever, than painfully endeavor to be holy 1 What does your conduct, my brethren, answ^er to these questions 1 If your tongues reply, they will perhaps for your credit give a right answer ; but what say your prevailing disposition and common practice! are you not more thoughtful for time than eternity 1 more concerned about visible vanities than invisible realities ( If so, you make a fool's choice indeed. But let it be further considered, that the transitoriness 18* 210 THINGS UNSrKN TO BE of visible things may imply that we must ere long be removed from them. Though they were immortal it would be nothing to us, since we are not so in our pre- sent state. Within a few years at most, we shall be beyond the reach of all happiness and misery from tem- poral things. But when we pass out of this transitory state, we enter upon an everlasting state. Our souls will always exist exist in a state of unchangeable, boundless happiness or misery. It is but a little while since we came into being out of a state of eternal non-existence ; but we shall never relapse into that state again. These little sparks of being shall never be extinguished! they will survive the ruins of the world, and kindle into immor- tality. When millions of millions of ages are past, we shall still be in existence : and O ! in what unknown region ! In that of endless bliss, or of interminable misery ! Be this the most anxious inquiry of our lives 1 Seeing then we must soon leave this world, and all its joys and sorrows, and seeing we must enter on an un- changeable, everlasting state of happiness or misery, be it our chief concern to end our present pilgrimage well. It matters but little Avhether we lie easy or not during this night of existence, if so be we awake in eternal day. It is but a trifle, hardly worth a thought, whether we be happy or miserable here, if we be happy for ever here- after. What then mean the bustle and noise of mankind about the things of time \ O, Sirs, eternity ! awful, all- important eternity, is the only thing that deserves a thought. I come, 1. To show the great and happy influence a suitable impression of the superior importance of invisible to visible things would have upon us. This I might exem- plify in a variety of instances wiih respect to saints and sinners. When we are tempted to any unlawful pleasures, how would we shrink away with horror from the pursuit, had we a due sense of the misery incurred, and the happi- ness forfeited by it ! When we find our hearts excessively eager aftei things below, had we a suitable view of eternal things, all these things would shrink into trifles hardly worth a thought, much less our principal concern. PREFERRED TO THINGS SEEN. 211 When the sinner, for the sake of a little present ease, , and to avoid a little present uneasiness, stifles his con- science, refuses to examine his condition, casts the thoughts of eternity out of his mind, and thinks it too hard to attend painfully on all the means of grace, has he then a due estimate of eternal things 1 Alas ! no ; he only looks at the things that are seen. Were the mouth of hell open before him, that he might behold its torments, and had he a sight of the joys of paradise, they would harden him into a generous insensibility of all the sorrows and anxieties of this life, and his inquiry would not be, whether these things required of him are easy ; but, whether they are necessary to obtain eternal happi- ness, and avoid everlasting misery. When we suffer any reproach or contempt on a reli- gious account, how would a due estimate of eternal things fortify us with undaunted courage and make us willing to climb to heaven through disgrace, rather than sink to hell with general applause ! How would a realizing view of eternal things animate us in our devotions 1 Were this thought impressed on our hearts when in the secret or social duties of reliT-ion, " 1 am now acting for eternity," do you think we should pray, read, or hear with so much indifferency and lan- guor 1 O no ; it would rouse us out of our dead frames, and call forth all the vigor of our souls. With what un- wearied importunity should we cry to God! with what eagerness hear the word of salvation ! How powerful an influence would a view of futurity have to alarm the secure sinner that has thought little of eternity all his life, though it be the only thing worth thinking of 1 How would it hasten the determination of the linger- ing, wavering sinner, and shock him at the thought of living one day unprepared on the very brink of eternity ! In a word, a suitable impression of this would quite alter the aspect of things in the world, and would turn the concern and activity of the world into another chan- nel. Eternity then would be the principal concern Our niquiries would not be, Who will show us any tem- poral good 1 What shall we eat, or what shall we drink 1 But, What shall w^e do to be saved l How shall we escape the v/rath to come 1 Let us then endeavor to 212 THE S.ACItED IMPORT OF impress our hearts with invisible things, and for that purpose consider, that, We shall, ere long, be ingulfed in this awful eternity, whether we think of it or not. A few days or years will launch us there ; and 0, the surprising scenes that will then open to us ! — Without deep impressions of eternity on our hearts, and frequent thoughtfulness about it, we cannot be pre- pared for it. And if we are not prepared for it, 0, how inconceiva- bly miserable our case ! But if prepared, how incon- ceivably happy! Look not then at the things which are seen^ hut at the things which are not seen ; for the things which are seen are temporal : but the th ings which are not seen are eternal. SERMON XII. THE SACRED IMPORT OF THE CHRISTIAN NAME Acts xi. 26. — The Disciples were called Christians first at Jlntioch. Mere names are empty sounds, and but of little con- sequence : and yet it must be owned there are names of honor and signiftcancy ; and, when they are attended with the things signified by them, they are of great and sa- cred importance. Such is the Christian name ; a name about seventeen hundred years old. And now, when the name is almost lost in party-distinctions, and the thing is almost lost in ignorance, error, vice, hypocrisy, and formality, it may l)c worth our while to consider the original import of that sacred name, as a proper expedient to recover both name and thing. The name of Christian was not the first by which the followers of Ciirist were distinguished. Their enemies called them Galileans, Nnzarcnes, and other names of contempt : and among ihemselves they were called THE CHRISTIAN IS'AME. 213 Saints, from their holiness ; Disciples, from their learn- ing their religion from Christ as their teacher ; Be- lievers, from their believing in him as the Messiah ; and Brethren, from their mutual love and their relation to God and each other. But after some time they were dis- tinguished by the name of Christians. This they first received in Antioch, a heathen city, a city infamous for all manner of vice and debauchery : a city that had its name from Antiochus Epiphanes, the bitterest enemy the church of the Jews ever had. A city very rich and pow- erful, from whence the Christian name would have an extensive circulation; but it is long since laid in ruins, unprotected by that sacred name : in such a city was Christ pleased to confer his name upon his followers ; and you cannot but see that the very choice of the place discovers his wisdom, grace, and justice. The originahvord, which is here rendered called, seems to intimate that they were called Christians by divine ap- pointment, for it generally signifies an oracular nomination or a declaration from God ; and to this purpose it is gene- rally translated.* Hence it follows that the very name Christian, as well as the thing, was of a divine original ; as- sumed not by a private agreement of the disciples among themselves, but by the appointment of God. And in this view it is a remarkable accomplishment of an old pro- phecy of Isaiah, chap. Ixii. 2. The Gentiles shall see thy righteousness^ and all kings thy glory^ and thou shalt he called by a new name, which the mouth of the Lord shall name. So Isaiah lxv.l5. The Lord shall call his servants by another name. This name was at first confined to a few ; but it soon had a surprisingly extensive propagation through the warned of G,od, and the like in Matt. ii. 22. So in Kom. xi. 4. ^pr//(rtTj(T//os, IS rendered the answer of God. Rom. vii. 3, -xpTijjtaTKrci, she shall be called, (viz. by the divine law) an adnltress. Luke ii. 2G, ;)^or)/(ar((rpoi', it was revealed to him by the Holy Gho.«t. Acts x. 22, cYP/jy«r(0£. was warned from God. Heb. viii. 5. KcYPn/arlffrat Mwcrcf, Moses was ad- monished of God. Heb.xi.7. Noahbeing warned of God, xP':/^^"''e:f. Heb. xii. 25. If they escaped not, who refused Him that spake on earth •, viz. by divine inspiration. These are all the places perhaps in which the word is used in tlie New Testament; and in ail these it seems to mean a revelation from God, or something oracular. And this is a strong presumption that the word is to be so understood iu tho text. 214 THE SACRED IMPORT OF world. In many countries, indeed, it Mas lost, and mis- erably exchanged for that of Heathen, Mahometan, or Musselman. Yet the European nations still retain the honor of wearing it. A few scattered Christians are also still to be found here and there in Asia and Africa, though crushed under the oppressions of Mahometans and Pagans. This name has likewise crossed the wide ocean to the wilderness of America, and is worn by the sundry European colonies on this continent. We, in particular, call ourselves Christians, and should take it ill to be denied the honor of that distinction. But do we not know the meaning and sacred import of that name ] Do we not know what it is to be Christians in- deed 1 That is, to be in reality what we are in name : certainly it is time for us to consider the matter ; and it is my present design that we should do so. Now Ave may consider this name in various views ; particularly as a name of distinction from the rest of the world, who know not the Lord Jesus, or reject him as an impostor ; — as a patronymic name, pointing out the Fa- ther and Founder of our holy religion and the Christian church ; — as a badge of our relation to Christ as his serv- ants, his children, his bride ; — as intimating our unction by the holy Spirit, or our being the subjects of his influ- ences ; as Christ was anointed by the holy Spirit, or replenished with his gifts above measure, (for you are to observe that anointed is the English of the Greek name Christ, and of the Hebrew, Messiah*) and as a name of appropriation, signifying that we are the property of Christ, and his peculiar people. Each of these particu- lars might be profitably illustrated.! But my present design confines me to consider the Christian name only in two views ; namely, as a catholic name, intended to bury all party denominations ; and as a name of obliga- tion upon all that wear it to be Christians indeed, or to form their temper and practice upon the sacred model of Christianity. •Psalm cv. 15. Touch not my Christe; that is, my anointed peo- ple. So the Seventy, + See a fine illustration of tliem in Dr. Grosvenor's excellent easay on tlie Christian name ; from whom I am not ashamed to borrow seve- ral amiable sentiments. THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 215 1. Let us consider the Christian name as a catholic name, intended to bury all party denominations. The name Gentile was odious to the Jews, and the name Jew was odious to the Gentiles. The name Chris- tian swallows up both in one common and agreeable ap- pellation. He that hath taken down the partition-wall, has taken away partition names, and v:nited ail his fol- lowers in his own name, as a common denomination. For now, says Paul, " there is neither Greek nor Jew, cir- cumcision nor uncircumcision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free; but Christ is all and in all." Col. iii. 11. "And ye are all one in Christ Jesus." Gal. iii. 28. Ac- cording to a prophecy of Zechariah, The Lord shall be ki?ig over all the earth ; and in that day there shall be one Lord, and his name one. Zech. xiv. 9. It is but a due honor to Jesus Christ, the founder of Christianity, that ail who profess his religion should wear his name ; and they pay an extravagant and even idolatrous compliment to his subordinate officers and ministers, when they take their denomination from them. Had this humor prevailed in the primitive church, instead of the common name Christians, there would have been as many party-names as there were apostles or eminent ministers. There would have been Paulites from Paul ; Peterites from Peter ; Johnites from John ; Barnabites from Barnabas, &;c. Paul took pains to crush the first risings of this party spirit in those churches which he planted ; particularly in Corinth, where it most prevail- ed. While they were saying, / am of Paul ; and I of ^polios ; and I of Cephas ; and I of Christ ; he puts this pungent question to them : " Is Christ divided V Are his servants the ringleaders of so many parties % Was Paul crucified for you % or were ye baptized in or into the name of Paul, that ye should be so fond to take your name from him 1 He counted it a happiness that Provi- dence had directed him to such a conduct as gave no umbrage of encouragement to such a humor. / thank God, says he, thai I baptized none of you, but Crispus and Gains : lest any should take occasion to say, I baptized into my own name, and was gathering a party for myself. 1 Cor. i. 12—15. But alas ! how little has this convictive reasoning of the apostle been regarded in the future ages of the 216 THE SACRED IHrORT OF church 1 What an endless variety of denominations taken from some men of character, or from some little peculiarities, has prevailed in the Christian world, and crumbled it to pieces, while the Christian name is hardly- regarded 1 Not to take notice of Jesuits, Jansenites, Dominicans, Franciscans, and other denominations and orders in the popish church, where, having corrupted the ihing, they act very consistently to lay aside the name what party names have been adopted by the Proiestant churches, whose religion is substantially the same com- mon Christianity, and who agree in much more import- ant articles than in those they differ ; and who therefore might peaceably unite under the common name of Christians 1 We have Lutherans, Calvinists, Arminians, Zuinglians, Churchmen, Presbyterians, Independents, Baptists, and a long list of names which I cannot nov/ enumerate. To be a Christian is not enough now-a- days, but a man must also be something more and bet- ter ; that is, he must be a strenuous bigot to this or that particular church. But where is the reason or propriety of this 1 I may indeed believe the same things which Luther or Calvin believed : but I do net believe them on the authority of Luther or Calvin, but upon the sole au- thority of Jesus Christ, and therefore I should not call myself by their name, as one of their disciples, but by the name of Christ, whom alone I acknowledge as the Author of my religion, and my only master and Lord. If I learn my religion from one of these great men, it is indeed proper I should assume their name. If I learn it from a parliament or convocation, and make their acts and canons the rule and ground of my faith, then it is enough for me to be of the established religion, be that what it will : I may with propriety be called a mere con- formist ; that is my highest character : but I cannot be properly called a Christian ; for a Christian learns his religion, not from acts of parliament or from the deter- minations of councils, but from Jesus Christ and his gospel. To guard against mistakes on this head, I would ob- serve that every man has a natural and legal right to judge and choose for himself in matters of religion ; and that is a mean, supple soul indeed, and utterly careless about all religion, that makes a compliment of this right THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 217 to any man, or body of men upon earth, ^vilether pope, king-, parliament, convocation, or synod. In the exer- cise of this right, and searching for himself, he will find that he ajrrees more fully in lesser as well as more im- portant articles with some particular church than others ; and thereupon it is his duty to join in stated communion with that church ; and he may, if he pleases, assume the name which that church wears, by way of distinction from others ; this is not what I condemn. But for me to glory in the denomination of any particular church as my highest character ; to lay more stress upon the name of a presbyterian or a churchman, than on the sa- cred name of Christian ; to make a punctilious agree- ment with my sentiments in the little peculiarities of a party the test of all religion ; to make it the object of my zeal to gain proselytes to some other than the Chris- tian name ; to connive at the faults of those of my own party, and to be blind to the good qualities of others, or invidiously to misrepresent or diminish them ; these are the things which deserve universal condemnation from God and man ; these proceed from a spirit of bigotry and faction, directly opposite to the generous catholic spirit of Christianity, and subversive of it. And yet how common is this spirit among all denominations ! and what mischief has it done in the world ! Hence proceed contentions and animosities^ uncharitable suspicions and censures, slander and detraction, partiality and unrea- sonable prejudices, and a hideous group of evils, which I cannot now describe. This spirit also hinders the pro- gress of serious practical religion, by turning the atten- tion of men from the great concerns of eternity, and the essentials of Christianity, to vain jangling and contest about circumstances and trifles. Thus the Christian is swallowed up in the partisan and fundamentals lost in extra-essentials. My brethren, I would now warn you against this wretched, mischievous spirit of party. I would not have you entirely sceptical and undetermined even about the smaller points of religion, the modes and forms, which are the matters -of contention between different church- es ; nor would I have you quite indifferent what parti- cular church to join with in stated communion. Endea- vor to find out the truth even in these circumstantials, at 19 218 THE SACRED IMPORT OF least so far as is necessary for the directioii of your own conduct. But do not make these the whole or tlie prin- cipal part of your religion ; do not be excessively zeal- ous about them, nor break the peace of the church by magisterially imposing them upon others. " Hast thou faith in these little disputablesl" it is well ; "but have it to thyself before God," and do not disturb others with it. You may, if you please, call yourselves presbyterians and dissenters, and you shall bear without shame or re- sentment all the names of reproach and contempt which the world may brand you with. But as you should not be mortified on the one side, so neither should you glo- ry on the other. A Christian ! a Christian ! let that be your highest distinction ; let that be the name which you labor to deserve. God forbid that my ministrjr should be the occasion of diverting your attention to anything else. But I am so happy that I can appeal to yourselves, Vv^hether I have during several years of my ministry among you, labored to instil into you the prin- ciples of bigotry, and make you warm proselytes to a party : or whether it has not been the great object of my zeal to inculcate upon you the grand essentials of our holy religion, and make you sincere, practical Chris tians. Alas! my dear people, unless I succeed in this, I labor to very little purpose, though I should presbyte- rianize the whole colony. Calumny and slander, it is hoped, have by this time talked themselves out of breath ; and the lying spirit may be at a loss for materials to form a popular, plausi- ble falsehood, which is likely to be credited where the dissenters are known. But you have heard formerly, and some of you may still hear strange and uncommon surmises, wild conjectures, and most dismal insinuations. But if you would know the truth at once, if you would be fully informed by one that best knows what religion I am of, I will tell you (with Mr. Baxter,) "I am a Chris- tian, a mere Christian ; of no other religion : my church is the Christian church." The Bible ! the Bible ! is my religion ; and if I am a dissenter, I dissent only from modes and forms of religion which I cannot find in my Bible ; and which therefore I conclude have nothing to do with religion, much less should they be made terms of Christian communion, since Christ, the only lawgiver 'HIE CHRISTIAN NAME. 219 of his church, has not made tliem such. Let this congre gation be that of a Christian society, and I little care what other name it wears. Let it be a little Antioch, where the followers of Christ shall be distinguished by their old catholic name. Christians. To bear and deserve this character, let this be our ambition, this our labor. Let popes pronounce, and councils decree what they please ; let statesmen and ecclesiastics prescribe what to believe ; as for us, let us study our Bibles : let us learn of Christ ; and if we are not dignified with the smiles, or enriched with the emoluments of an establishment, we shall have his approbation, who is the only Lord and Sovereign of the realm of conscience, and by whose judgment we must stand or fall for ever. But it is time for me to proceed to consider the other view of the Christian name, on which I intend principal- ly to insist 5 and that is, IL As a name of obligation upon all that bear it to be Christians indeed, or to form their temper and practice upon the sacred model of Christianity. The prosecution of this subject will lead me to answer this important in- quiry. What is it to be a Christian 1 To be a Christian, in the popular and fashionable sense, is no difficult or excellent thing. It is to be bap- tized, to profess the Christian religion, to believe, like our neighbors, that Christ is the Messiah, and to attend upon public worship once a w^eek, in some church or other that bears only the Christian name. In this sense a man may be a Christian, and yet be habitually careless about eternal things ; a Christian, and yet fall short of the morality of many of the heathens ; a Christian, and yet a drunkard, a swearer, or a slave to some vice or other ; a Christian, and yet a wilful, impenitent offender against God and man. To be a Christian in this sense is no high character ; and, if this be the whole of Chris- tianity, it is very little matter whether the world be Christianized or not. Bat is this to be a Christian in the original and proper sense of the word 1 No j that is something of a very different and superior kind. To be a Christian indeed, is the highest character and dignity of which the human nature is capable : it is the most ex- cellent thing that ever adorned our w^orld : it is a thing that Heaven itself beholds with approbation and delight' 220 THE SACRED IMPORT OF To be a Christian is to be like to Christ, from whom the name is taken : it is to be a follower and imitator of him ; to be possessed of his spirit and temper ; and to live as he lived in the world : it is to have those just, exalted, and divine notions of God and divine things, and that just and full view of our duty to God and man, wdiich Christ taught : in short it is to have our senti- ments, our temper, and practice, formed upon the sacred model of the gospel. Let me expatiate a little upon this amiable character. 1. To be a Christian, is to depart from iniquity. To this the name obliges us ; and without this we have no title to the name. " Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity," 2 Tim. ii. 19 ; that is, let him depart from iniquity, or not dare to touch that sacred name. Christ w'as perfectly free from sin : he was " holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sin- ners." His followers also shall be perfectly free from sin in a little time ; ere long they will enter into the pure regions of perfect holiness, and w^ill drop all their sins, with their mortal bodies, into the grave. But this, alas ! is not their character in the present state, but the remains of sin still cleave to them. Yet even in the present state, they are laboring after perfection in holi- ness. Nothing can satisfy them until they are conform- ed to the image of God's dear Son. They are hourly conflicting with every temptation, and vigorously resist- ing every iniquity in its most alluring forms. And, though sin is perpetually struggling for the mastery, and sometimes, in an inadvertent hour, gets an advantage over them, yet, as they are not under the law^, but under grace, they are assisted with recruits of grace, so that no sin has any habitual dominion over them. Rom. vi. 14. Hence they are free from the gross vices of the age, and are men of good morals. This is their habitual, universal character ; and to pretend to be Christians without this requisite, is the greatest absurdity. What then shall we think of the drunken, swearing, debauched, defrauding, rakish, profligate, profane Chris- tians, that have overrun the Christian world 1 Can there be a greater contradiction 1 A loyal subject in arms against his sovereign, an ignorant scholar, a sober drunkard, a charitable miser, an honest thief, is not a THE CHRISTIAN NAME. ,221 greater absurdity, or a more direct contradiction. To depart from iniquity is essential to Christianity, and without it there can be no such thing. There was noth- ing that Christ was so remote from as sin : and there- fore for those that indulge themselves in it to wear his name, is just as absurd and ridiculous as for a coward to denominate himself from Alexander the Great, or an illiterate dunce to call himself a Newtonian philosopher. Therefore, if you will not renounce iniquity, renounce the Christian name ; for you cannot consistently retain both. Alexander had a fellow in his army that was of his own name, but a mere coward. " Either be like me," says Alexander, " or lay aside my name." Ye servants of sin, it is in vain for you to wear the name of Christ ; it renders you the more ridiculous, and aggra- vates your guilt : you may with as much propriety call yourselves lords, or dukes, or kings, as Christians, while you are so unlike to Christ. His name is a sarcasm, a reproach to you, and you are a scandal to his name. His name is blasphemed among the Gentiles through you. 2. To be a Christian is to deny yourselves and take up the cross and follow Christ. These are the terms of discipleship fixed by Christ himself. He said to them all^ If any man will come after 7?^e, let him deny himself^ and take up his cross daily ^ and follow me. Luke ix. 23. To deny ourselves is to abstain from the pleasures of sin, to moderate our sensual appetites, to deny our own inter- est for the sake of Christ, and in short, to sacrifice every thing inconsistent with our duty to him, when these come in competition. To take up our cross, is to bear sufferings, to encounter difficulties, and break through them all in imitation of Jesus Christ, and for his sake. To folloAV him, is to trace his steps, and imitate his ex- ample, whatever it cost us. But this observation will coincide with the next head, and therefore I now dismiss it. These, Sirs, and these only are the terms, if you would be Christians, or the disciples of Christ. These he honestly warned mankind of when he first called them to be his disciples. He did not take an advantage of them, but let them know beforehand upon what terms they were admitted. He makes this declaration in the midst of a great crowd, in Luke xiv. 25, &c. There went a great multitude with him, fond of becoming his follow- 19* 222 THE SACPvED IMPORT OF ers : hut he twned, and said vnto them, if any man come to me, and hate not his father and mother, and wife, and children, and sisters, yea, and his ovm life also, he cannot he my disciple. By hating, is here meant a smaller degree of love, or a comparative hatred ; that is, if we would be Christ's disciples, we must be willing to part with our dearest relations, and even our lives, when we cannot re- tain them consistently with our duty to him. He goes on : Whosoever does not hear his cross, and encounter the greatest sufferings after my example, ca?inot he my disci- ple. The love of Christ is the ruling passion of every true Christian, and for his sake he is ready to give up all, and to suffer all that earth or hell can inflict. He must run all risks, and cleave to his cause at all adven- tures. This is the essential character of every true Christian. What then shall we think of those crowds among us who retain the Christian name, and yet will not deny themselves of their sensual pleasures, nor part with their temporal interest for the pake of Christ 1 Who are so far from being willing to lay down their lives that, they cannot stand the force of a laugh or a sneer in the cause of religion, but immediately stumble and fall away ! or, are they Christians, whom the commands of Christ can- not restrain from Avhat their depraved hearts desire \ No ; a Christian, without self-denial, mortification, and a supreme love to Jesus Christ, is as great a contradic- tion as fire without heat, or a sun without light, a hero without courage, or a friend without love. And does not this strip some of you of the Christian name, and prove that you have no title at all to it 1 3. I have repeatedly observed, that a true Christian must be a follower or imitator of Christ. Be ye follow- ers of me, says St. Paul, as I also am of Christ. 1 Cor. xi. 1. Christ is the model after whom every Christian is formed ; for, says St. Peter, he left us an example, that ice should follow his steps. 1 Pet. ii. 21. St. Paul tells us, that we must he conformed to the image of God's dear So?i, Rom. vii. 29, and that the same mind must he i?i us which was also in Christ Jesus. Phil. ii. 5 ; unless we partake of his spirit, and resemble him in practice ; un- less we be as he was in the world, we have 'no right to partake of his name. THE CnrtlSTIAN NAME. 2^3 Here I would observe, that what was miraculous in our Lord's conduct, and peculiar to him as the Son of God and Mediator, is not a pattern for our imitation, but only what was done in obedience to that law of God which was common to him and us. His heart glowed with love to his Father ; he delighted in universal obedience to him 5 it was his meat and drink to do his will, even in the most painful and self-denying instances ; he abound- ed in devotion, in prayer, meditation, fasting, and every religious duty. He was also full of every grace and vir- tue towards mankind ; meek and lowly, kind and bene- volent, just and charitable, merciful and compassionate ; a dutiful son, loyal subject, a faithful friend, a good master, and an active, useful, public-spirited member of society. He was patient and resigned, and yet undaunt- ed and brave under sufferings : he had all his appetites and passions under proper government, he was heavenly- minded, above this world in heart while he dwelt in it. Beneficence to the souls and bodies of men was the busi- ness of his life ; for he went about doing good. Acts x. 38. This is an imperfect sketch of his aniiable character ; and in these things every one that deserves to be called after his name, does in some measure resemble and imi- tate him. This is not only his earnest endeavor, but what he actually attains, though in a much inferior de- gree ; and his imperfections are the grief of his heart. This resemblance and imitation of Christ is essential to the very being of a Christian, and without it, it is a vain pretence. And does your Christianity, my br*. .nren, stand this test \ may one know that you belong to Christ by your living like him, and discovering the same tem- per and spirit \ Do the manners of the divine Master spread through all his family ; and do you show that you belong to it by your temper and conduct \ Alas ! if you must be denominated from hence, would not some of you with more propriety be called Epicureans from Epicurus, the sensual atheistic philosopher, or Mam monites from Mammon, the imaginary god of riches, or Bacchanals from Bacchus, the god of wine, than Chris- tians from Christ, the most perfect pattern of living ho- liness and virtue that ever was exhibited in the world % If you claim the name of Christians, where is that ar- dent devotion, that affectionate love to God, that zeal for 224 THE SACRED IMPORT OF his glory, that alacrity in his service, that resignation to his will, that generous benevolence to mankind, that zeal to promote their best interests, that meekness and for- bearance under ill usage, that unwearied activity in doing good to all, that self-denial and heavenly-mindedness which shone so conspicuous in Christ, whose holy name you bear 1 Alas ! while you are destitute of those graces, and yet wear his name, you burlesque it, and turn it into a reproach both to him and yourselves. I might add, that the Christian name is not hereditary to you by your natural birth, but you must be born anew of the spirit to entitle you to this new name ; that a Christian is a believer, believing in Him after whom he is called as his only Savior and Lord, and that he is a true penitent. Repentance was incompatible with Christ's character, who was perfectly righteous, and had no sin of which to repent ; but it is a proper virtue in a sinner, without which he cannot be a Christian. On these and several other particulars I might enlarge, but my time will not allow ; I shall therefore conclude with a few reflections. First, You rftay hence see that the Christian character is the highest, the most excellent and sublime in the world ; it includes everything truly great and amiable. The Christian has exalted sentiments of the Supreme Being, just notions of duty, and a proper temper and con- duct towards God and man. A Christian is a devout worshipper of the God of heaven, a cheerful observer of his whole law, and a broken-hearted penitent for his im- perfections. A Christian is a complication of all the amiable and useful graces and virtues ; temperate and so- ber, just, liberal, compassionate and benevolent, humble, meek, gentle, peaceable, and in all things conscientious. A Christian is a good parent, a good child, a good mas- ter, a good servant, a good husband, a good wife, a faith- ful friend, an obliging neighbor, a dutiful subject, a good ruler, a zealous patriot, and an honest statesman ; and as far as he is such, so far, and no farther, he is a Christian And can there be a more amiable and excellent character exhibited to your view 1 It is an angelic, a divine cha- racter. Let it be your glory and your ambition to wear it with a good grace, to wear it so as to adorn it To acquire the title of kings and lords, is not in youi ' THE CHRISTIAN NAME. 225 power ; to spread your fame as scholars, philosophers, or heroes, may be beyond your reach ; but here is a cha- racter more excellent, more amiable, more honorable than all these, which it is your business to deserve and maintain. And blessed be God, this is a dignity which the meanest among you, which beggars and slaves may attain. Let this therefore be an object of universal am- bition and pursuit, and let every other name and title be despised in comparison of it. This is the way to rise to true honor in the estimate of God, angels, and good men. What though the anti-christian Christians of our age and country ridicule you 1 let them consider their own absurd conduct and be ashamed. They think it an honor to wear the Christian name, and yet persist in un- christian practices ; and who but a fool, with such pal- pable contradiction, would think so 1 A beggar that fancies himself a king and trails his rags with the gait of majesty, as though they were royal robes, is not so ridiculous as one that will usurp the Christian name with- out a Christian practice ; and yet such Christians are the favorites of the world. To renounce the profession of Christianity is barbarous and profane ; to live according to that profession, a^^d practise Christianity, is precise- ness and fanaticism. Can anything be more preposter- ous 1 This is as if one should ridicule learning, and yet glory in the character of a scholar ; or laugh at bravery, and yet celebrate the praises of heroes. And are they fit to judge of the wisdom and propriety, or their cen- sures to be regarded, who fall into such an absurdity themselves \ Secondly, Hence you may see that, if all the profes- sors of Christianity should behave in character, the reli- gion of Christ would soon appear divine to all mankind, and spread through all nations of the earth. Were Christianity exhibited to the life in all its native inherent glories, it would be as needless to offer arguments to prove it divine, as to prove that the sun is full of light : the conviction would flash upon all mankind by its own intrinsic evidence. Did Christians exemplify the religion they profess, all the world would immediately see that that religion which rendered them so different a people from all the rest of mankind, is indeed divine, and every way worthy of universal acceptance. * # * 226 THE SACRED IMPORT OF THE CHRISTIAN NAJME. * * * * Then would Heathenism, Mahome- tanism, and all the false reliore than this, it would answer no valuable end. The mind of man, in his present fallen state, like a dis- ordered eye, is incapable of perceiving divine things in a proper light, however clearly they are revealed ; and therefore, till the perceiving faculty be rectified, all ex- ternal revelation is in vain, and is only like opening a fair prospect to a blind eye. Hence this great Prophet carries his instructions farther, not only by proposing divine things in a clear objective light by his word, but inwardly enlightening the mind, and enabling it to per- ceive what is revealed by his Spirit. And how precious are these internal subjective instructions ! How sweet to feel a disordered dark mind opening to admit the shin- ings of heavenly day ; to perceive the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, the beauties of holiness, and the majestic wonders of the eternal world ! Speak, ye that know by happy experience, and tell how precious Jesus appears to you, when by his own blessed Spirit he scat- ters the cloud that benighted your understandings, and lets in the rays of his glory upon your admiring souls ; when he opens your eyes to see the wonders contained in his law, and the glorious mysteries of his gospel. What a divine glory does then spread upon every page of the sacred volume ! Then it indeed appears the Book of God, God-like, and worthy its Author. 0 precious Jesus ! let us all this day feel thine enlightening influ- ences, that experience may teach us how sweet they are ! Come, great Prophet ! come, and make thine own spirit our teacher, and then we shall be divinely wise ! Again, the Lord Jesus is precious to believers as a great High Priest. As a high priest, he made a com- plete atonement for sin by his propitiary sacrifice on the cross ; and he still makes intercession for the transgres- sors on his throne in heaven. It was his sacrifice that satisfied the demands of the law, and justice of God, and rendered him reconcileable to the guilty, upon terms consistent with his honor and the rights of his govern- ment. It was by virtue of this sacrifice that he procured pardon of sin, the favor of God, freedom from hell, and eternal life for condemned obnoxious rebels. And such of you who have ever felt the pangs of a guilty con- science, and obtained relief from Jesus Christ, you can tell how precious is his atoning sacrifice. How did it 254 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ease your self-tormenting consciences, and heal your broken hearts ! How did it change the frowns of an angry God into smiles of love, and your trembling ap- prehensions of vengeance into delightful hopes of mer- cy ! How precious did Jesus appear, with a pardon in his hand, with atoning blood gushing from his opened veins, and making his cross, as it were, the key to open the gates of heaven for your admission ! Blessed Sa- vior ! our great High Priest, thus appear to us in all thy pontifical robes dyed in thine ow^n blood, and cause us al] to feel the efficacy of thy propitiation ! Let us next turn our eyes upwards, and view this great High Priest as our Intercessor in the presence of God. There he appears as a lamb that was slain, bearing the memorials of his sacrifice, and putting the Father in re- membrance of the blessings purchased for his people. There he urges it as his pleasure, as his authoritative will, that these blessings should in due time be conferred upon those for whom they were purchased. In this au- thoritative manner he could intercede even in the days of his humiliation upon earth, because of the Father's covenant-engagements with him, the accomplishment of which he has a right to demand, as well as humbly to petition: "Father, I will that those w^hom thou hast given to me, may be with me," &c. John xvii. 24. Now how precious must Christ appear in the character of In- tercessor ! That the friendless sinner should have an all-prevailing advocate in the court of heaven to under- take his cause ! that the great High Priest should offer up the grateful incense of his own merit, with the pray- ers of the saints ! that he should add the sanction of his authoritative will to the humble petitions of faith ! that he should urge the claims of his people, as his own claims, founded upon an unchangeable covenant with his Father, of which he has fully performed the conditions required ! that he should not intercede occasionally, but ilways appear in the holy of holies as the constant ever- iving Intercessor, and maintain the same interest, the same importunity at all times, even when the petitions of his people languish upon their lips ! What dehghtful reflections are these ! and how warmly may they recom- mend the Lord Jesus to the hearts of believers ! How just is the apostle's inference, " Having an High Priest ALL TRUE BELIEVEKS. 255 over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart, in full assurance of faith ; and let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering." Heb. x. 21 — 23. " He is able to save to the uttermost all that come unto God by him ;" for this reason, because " he ever liveth to make intercession for them." Heb. vii. 25. May each of us intrust his cause to this all-prevailing Advocate, and we shall certainly gain it ! The un- changeable promise has passed his lips, " that whatso- ever we ask the Father in faith, and in his name, he will give it us." John xvi. 23. Let me add, the kingly office of Christ is precious to believers. As King he gives laws, laws perfectly wise and good, and enforced with the most important sanc- tions, everlasting rewards and punishments. And how delightful, how advantageous, to live under such a gov- ernment ! to have our duty discovered with so much clearness and certainty, which frees us from so many painful anxieties, and to have such poAverful motives to obedience,whichhave a tendency to infuse vigor and spirit into our endeavors ! As King, he appoints ordinances of worship. And how sweet to converse with him in these ordinances, and to be freed from perplexity about that manner of worship which God will accept, without being exposed to that question, so confounding to will-wor- shippers, Who hath required this at your hands 1 As King, he is head over all things to his church, and ma- nages the whole creation, as is most subservient to her good. The various ranks of creatures in heaven, earth, and hell, are subject to his direction and control ; and they must all co-operate for the good of his people. He reclaims, confounds, subdues, or destroys their enemies, according to his pleasure. And how precious must he be in this august character to the feeble helpless believer ! To have an almighty friend sitting at the helm of the universe, with the supreme management of all things in his hands ; to be assured that even the most injurious •enemy can do the believer no real or lasting injury, but shall at length concur to work his greatest good ; and that, come what will, it shall go well with him, and he shall at last be made triumphant over all difficulty and opposition. O ! what transporting considerations are here ! But this is not the whole exercise of the royal 256 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO power of Christ. He not only makes laws and ordinances, and restrains the enemies of his people, but he exercises his power inwardly upon their hearts. He is the King of souls ; he reigns in the hearts of his subjects ; and how infinitely dear and precious is he in this view ! To feel him subdue the rebehion within, sweetly bending the stubborn heart into willing obedience, and reducing every thought into a cheerful captivity to himself, writ- ing his law upon the heart, making the dispositions of his subjects a transcript of his will, corresponding to it, like wax to the seal, how delightful is all this ! O the plea- sures of humble submission ! How pleasant to lie as sub- jects at the feet of this mediatorial King without arro- gating the sovereignty to ourselves, for which we are utterly insufficient ! Blessed Jesus ! thus reign in oui; hearts ! thus subdue the nations to the obedience of faith ! " Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, 0 most Mighty ! and ride prosperously, attend with majesty, truth, meek- ness, and righteousness." Psalm xlv. 3, 4. " Send the rod of thy strength out of Sion : rule thou in the midst of thine enemies," Psalm ex. 2, rule us, and subdue the rebel in our hearts. Thus you see the Lord Jesus is precious to believers in all the views of his mediatorial office. But he is not precious to them alone : he is beloved as far as known, and the more known the more beloved : which leads me to add, 3. He is precious to all the angels of heaven. St. Peter tells us that the things now reported to us. by the gospel are things which the angels desire to look in- to^ 1 Pet. i. 12. Jesus is the wonder of angels now in heaven; and he was so even when he appeared in the form of a servant upon earth. St. Paul mentions it as one part of the great mystery of godliness, that God ma7ii- j'ested in the flesh was seen of angels. 1 Tim. iii. 16. An- gels saw him, and admired and loved him in the various stages of his life, from his birth to his return to his na- tive heaven. Hear the manner in which angels celebrat- ed his entrance into our world. One of them spread his wings and flew with joyful haste to a company of poor shepherds that kept their midnight watches in the field, and abruptly tells the news, of which his heart was full : " Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 257 shall be to all people ; for to you is born this day, in the city of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord : and suddenly there Avas with the angel a multitude of the hea- venly host." Crowds of angels left their stations in the celestial court in that memorable hour, and hovered over the place where their incarnate God lay in a manger : Jesus, their dprling, was gone down to earth, and they must follow him ; for who would not be where Jesus is 1 Men, ungrateful men, were silent upon that occasion, but angers tuned their song of praise. The astonished shep- herds heard them sing, " Glory to God in the highest ; on earth peace: good-will to men." Luke ii. 10 — 14 When he bringeth his first-born into the world, the Fa ther saith, Let all the angels of God worship him^ Heb. i. 6. This seems to intimate that all the angels crowded round the manger, where the Infant-God lay, and paid him their humble worship. We are told, that when the devil had finished his long process of temptations, after forty days, and had left him, the angels came and ministered unto him . Matt. iv. IL When this disagreeable companion had left him, his old attendants were fond of renewing their service to him. In every hour of difficul- ty they were ready to fly to his aid. He was seen of angels, in his hard conflict, in the garden of Gethse- mane ; and one of them " appeared unto him from hea- ven, strengthening him." Luke xxii. 43. With what wonder, sympathy and readiness, did this angelic assist- ant raise his prostrate Lord from the cold ground, wipe off his bloody sweat, and support his sinking spirit with divine encouragements ! But 0 ! ye blessed angels, ye usual spectators, and adorers of the divine glories of our Redeemer, with what astonishment and horror were you struck, when you saw him expire on the cross ! " Around ihe bloody tree Ye press'd with strong desire, That wondrous sight to see, The Lord of life expire ! And, could your eyes Have known a tear, Had dropt it there In sad surprise."* Ye also hovered round his tomb, while he lay in the • Doddridge. 22* 258 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO prison of the grave. The weeping women and his other friends found you stationed there in their early impatient visits to the sepulchre. O what wonders then appeared to your astonished minds ! Could you, that pry so deep into the secrets of heaven, you that know so well what divine love can do, could you have thought that even divine love could have gone so far 1 could have laid the Lord of glory a pale, mangled, senseless corpse in the mansions of the dead 1 Was not this a strange surprise even to you '( And, when the appointed day began to dawn, with what eager and joyful haste did ye roll away the stone, and set open the prison doors, that the rising Conqueror might march forth ! " And when arrayed in light, The shining conqueror rode, Ye hail'd his rapturous flight Uu to the throne oTGod ; And wav'd around Your golden wings, And struck your strings Ol'sweetestsound.* When he ascended on high, he was attended " with the chariots of God, v.hich are tweuty thousand, even thousands of angels." Psalm Ixviii. 17, 18. And now, when he is returned to dwell among them, Jesus is still the darling of angels. His name sounds from all their harps, and his love is the subject of their everlasting song. St. John once heard them, and I hope we shall ere long hear them, saying with a loud voice, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing." Rev. v. 11, 12. — This is the song of angels, as well as of the redeemed from among men : " Jesus the Lord, their harps employs ; Jesus, my love, they sing ; Jesus, tlie name of both our joys, Sounds sweet from every string."! O my brethren, could we see what is doing in heaven at this instant, how would it surprise, astonish, and con- found "usl Do you think the name of Jesus is of as lit- • An excellent hymn of Dr. Doddridge's on 1 Tim, iii. 16. — Seen of Angels, t Watts' Hor. Lyric. ^.LL TRUE BELIEVERS. 259 tie importance there as in our world 1 Do you think there is one lukewarm or disaffected heart there among ten thousand times ten thousand of thousands of thou- sands 1 O no ! there his love is the ruling passion of every heart, and the favorite theme of every song. And is he so precious to angels 1 to angels, who are less in- terested in him, and less indebted to him 1 And must he not be precious to poor believers bought with his blood, and entitled to life by his death 1 Yes, you that believe have an angelic spirit in this respect ; you love Jesus, though unseen, as well as they who see him as he is, though alas ! in a far less degree. But to bring his worth to the highest standard of all, I add, 4. He is infinitely precious to his Father, who tho- roughly knows him, and is an infallible judge of real worth. He proclaimed more than once from the excel- lent glory, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear ye him. Behold," says he, " my servant whom I uphold ; mine elect, in whom my soul deiight- eth." Isa. xlii. 1. He is called by the names of the ten- derest endearment ; his Son, his own Son, his dear Son, the Son of his love. He is a stone, disallowed indeed of men ; if their approbation were the true standard of merit, he must be looked upon as a very worthless, insig nificant being, unworthy of their thou^-hts and affections But let men form what estimate of liim thej'' please, he is chosen of God., and precious. And shall not the love of the omniscient God have weight with believers to love him too \ Yes, the apostle expressly draws the conse- quence ; he is precious to God, therefore to you that be- lieve, he is precious. It is the characteristic of even the meanest believer, that he is God-like. He is a par- taker of the divine nature, and therefore views things, in some measure, as God does ; and is affected towards them as God is, though there be an infinite difference as to the degree. He prevailingly loves what God loves, and that because God loves it. And now, my hearers, what think you of Christ 1 Will you not think of him as believers do 1 If so, he will be precious to your hearts above all things for the future. Or if you disregard this standard of excellence, as being but the estimate of fallible creatures, will you not think of him as angels do j angels, those bright intelligences, 260 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO to whom he reveals his unveiled glories, who are more capable of perceiving and judging of him, and who there- fore must know him better than you ; angels, who have had a long acquaintance with him at home, if I may so speak, for near six thousand years, as God, i. e. ever since their creation, and for near two thousand years as God-man 1 Since angels then, who know him so tho- roughly, love him so highly, certainly you may safely venture to love him ; you might safely venture to love him implicitly, upon their word. He died for you, which is more than ever he did for them, and will you not love him after all this love 1 It is not the mode to think much of him in our world, but it is the mode in heaven. Yes, blessed be God, if he be despised and rejected of men, he is not despised and rejected of angels. Angels, that know him best, love him above all, and as far as their capacity will allow, do justice to his merit ; and this is a very comfortable thought to a heart broken with a sense of the neglect and contempt he meets with among men. Blessed Jesus ! may not one congregation be got together, even upon our guilty earth, that shall in this respect be like the angels, all lovers of thee '( O ! why should this be impossible, while they are all so much in need of thee, all so much obliged to thee, and thou art so lovely in thyself! Why, my brethren, should not this congregation be made of such, and such only as are lovers of Jesus 1 Why should he not be precious to every one of you, rich and poor, old and young, white and black 1 What reason can any one of you give why you in particular should neglect him l I am sure you can give none. And will you, without any reason, dis- sent from all the angels in heaven, in a point of which they must be the most competent judges ] Will you differ from them, and agree in your sentiments of Christ with the ghosts of hell, his implacable, but conquered and miserable enemies 1 If all this has no weight with you, let me ask you farther, will you not agree to that estimate of Jesus which his Father has of him 1 Will you run counter to the supreme reason 1 Will you set up yourselves as wiser than omniscience 1 How must Jehovah resent it to see a worm at his footstool daring to despise him. ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 261 whom he loves so highly ! O let him be precious to you, because he is so to God, who knows him best. But I am shocked at my own attempt. O precious Je- sus ! are matters come to that pass in our world, that crea- tures bought with thy blood, creatures that owe all their hopes to thee '( should stand in need of persuasions to love thee ! What horrors attend the thought ! However, blessed be God, there are some, even among men, to whom he is precious. This world is not entirely peo- pled with the despisers of Christ. To as many of you as believe, he is precious, though to none else. Would you know the reason of this % I will tell you : none but believers have eyes to see his glory, none but they are sensible of their need of him, and none but they have learned from experience how precious he is. 1. None but believers have eyes to see the glory of Christ. As the knowledge of Christ is entirely from re- velation, an avowed unbeliever who rejects that revela- tion, can have no right knowledge of him, and therefore must be entirely indifferent towards him, as one unknown, or must despise and abhor him as an enthusiast or impos- tor. But one, who is not an unbeliever in profession or spe- culation, may yet be destitute of that faith which consti- tutes a true believer, and which renders Jesus precious to the soul. Even devils are very orthodox in specula- tion ; devils believe and tremble ; and they could cry out, " What have we to do with thee, Jesus of Nazareth 1 We know thee, who thou art ; even the holy One of God." Mark i. 24. And there are crowds among us who believe, after a fashion, that Christ is the true Mes- siah, who yet show by their practices that they neglect him in their hearts, and are not believers in the full im- port of the character. True faith includes not only a spe culative knowledge and belief, but a clear, affecting, real izing view, and a hearty approbation of the things known and believed concerning Jesus Christ ; and such a view, such an approbation, cannot be produced by any human means, but only by the enlightening influence of the holy Spirit shining into the heart. Without such a faith as this, the mind is all dark and blind as to the glory of Jesus Christ ; it can see no beauty in him, that he should be desired. Honorable and sublime speculations concern- ing him may hover in the understanding, and the tongue 'Z6'Z CHRIST PRECIOUS TO may pronounce many pompous panegyrics in his praise, but the understanding lias no realizing, affecting views of his excellency ; nor does the heart delight in him and love him as infinitely precious and lovely. The god of this world, the prince of darkness, has blinded the minds of them that believe not, lest the light of the glorious gos- pel of Christ should shine into them. But as to the en- lightened believer, God, who first commanded light to shine out of darkness, has shined into his heart, to give him the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. This divine illumination pierces the cloud that obscured his understanding, and enables him to view the Lord Jesus in a strong and striking light ; a light entirely different from that of the crowd around him ; a light, in which it is impossible to view this glorious object without loving him. A believer and an unbeliever may be equally orthodox in speculation, and have the same notions in theory concerning Jesus Christ, and yet it is certainly true, that their views of him are vastly different. Believers, do you think that, if the Christ-despising multitude around you had the same views of his worth and preciousness which you have, they could neglect him, as they do 1 It is impos- sible. You could once neglect him, as others do now ; you were no more charmed with his beauty than they. But O ! when you were brought out of darkness into God's marvellous light, when the glories of the neglect- ed Savior broke in upon your astonished minds, then was it possible for you to withhold your love from him 1 Were not your hearts captivated with delightful violence 1 You could no more resist. Did not your hearts then as naturally and freely love him, whom they had once dis- gusted, as ever they loved a dear child or a friend, or the sweetest created enjoyment % The improving your rea- son into faith is setting the disordered eye of the mind right, that it may be able to see this subject : and when once you viewed it with this eye of reason restored and improved, how did the precious stone sparkle before you, and charm you with its brilliancy and excellence ? Christ is one of those things unseen and hoped for, of which St. Paul says, faith is the substance a?id evidence. Heb. xi. 1. Faith gives Christ a present subsistence in the mind, not as a majestic phantom, but as the most glorious and ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. 263 iin})ortant reality : and this faith is a clear, affecting de- monstration, or conviction, of his existence, and of his beina: in reality what his word represents him. It is by such a faith, that is, under its habitual influence, that the believer lives: and hence, while he lives, Jesus is still precious to him. 2. None but believers are properly sensible of their need of Christ. They are deeply sensible of their ignor- ance and the disorder of their understanding, and there- fore they are sensible of their want of both the external and internal instructions of this divine prophet. But as to others, they are puffed up with intellectual pride, and apprehend themselves in very little need of religious in- structions ; and therefore they think but very slightly of him. Believers feel themselves guilty, destitute of all righteousness, and incapable of making atonement for their sins, or recommending themselves to God, and there- fore the satisfaction and righteousness of Jesus Christ are most precious to them, and they rejoice in him as their all-prevailing Intercessor. But as to the unbelieving crowd, they have no such mortifying thoughts of themselves ! they have so many excuses to make for their sins, that they bring down their guilt to a very trifling thing, hardly worthy of divine re- sentment : and they magnify their good works to such a height, that they imagine they will nearly balance their bad, and procure them some favor at least from God, and therefore the},' must look upon this high priest as needless. They also love to be free from the restraints of religion, and to have the command of themselves. They would usurp the power of self-government, and make their own pleasure their rule ; and therefore the Lord Jesus Christ, as a King, is so far from being pre- cious, that he is very unacceptable to such obstinate, headstrong rebels. They choose to have no lawgiver, but their own wills ; and therefore they trample upon his laws, and, as it were, form insurrections against his government. But the poor believer, sensible of his in- capacity for self-government, loves to be under direc- tion, and delights to feel the dependent, submissive, pli- ant spirit of a subject. He counts it a mercy not to have the management of himself, and feels his need of this mediatorial King to rule him. He hates the rebel 264 CHRIST PKKCIOL'S TO within, hates every insurrection of sin, and longs to have it entirely subdued, and every thought, every motion of his soul brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ ; and therefore he feels the need of his royal power to make an entire conquest of his hostile spirit. His commands are not uneasy impositions, but most ac- ceptable and friendly directions to him ; and the prohi- bitions of his law are not painful restraints, but a kind of pr.'vileges in his esteem. The language of his heart is, " Precious Jesus ! be thou my King. I love to live in humble subjection to thee. I would voluntarily submit myself to thy control and direction. Thy will, and not mine, be done ! O subdue every rebellious principle within, and make me all resignation and cheerful obedi- ence to thee !" To such a soul it is no wonder Jesus should be exceedingly precious : but 0 how diflerent is this spirit from that which generally prevails in the world I Let me add but one reason more why Jesus is precious to believers, and them only ; namely, 3. None but believers have known by experience how precious he is. They, and only they, can reflect upon the glorious views of him, which themselves have had, to captivate their hearts for ever to him. They, and only they, have known what it is to feel a bleeding heart healed by his gentle hand ; and a clamorous languishing conscience pacified by his atoning blood. They, and only they, know by experience how sweet it is to feel his love shed abroad in their hearts, to feel a heart, rav- ished with his glory, pant, and long, and breathe after him, and exerting the various acts of faith, desire, joy, and hope towards him. They, and only they, know by experience how pleasant it is to converse with him in his ordinances, and to spend an hour of devotion in some retirement, as it were, in his company. They, and only they, have experienced the exertions of his royal power, conquering their mightiest sins, and sweetly subduing them to himself. These are, in some measure, matters of experience wi\h every true believer, and therefore it is no wonder Jesus should be precious to them. But as to the unbelieving multitude, poor creatures ! they are entire strangers to these things. They may have some superficial notions of them floating in their heads, but they have never felt them in their hearts, and therefor© ALL TRL'E EELIEVEMS. 26b tlio iuihiitely precious Lord Jesus is a worthless, insigni- ficant being to them : anvd thus, alas ! it will be with the unhappy creatures, until experience becomes their teach- er : until they taste for themselves that the Lord is gra- cious. 1 Pet. ii. 3. There is an interesting question, which, I doubt not, !::as risen in the minds of such of you as have heard what has been said with a particular application to yourselves, and keeps you in a painful suspense : with an answer to which 1 shall conclude: "Ami indeed a true believer 1" may some of you say ; " and is Christ precious to me % My satisfaction in this sweet subject is vastly abated, till this question is solved. Sometimes, I humbly think, the evidence is in my favor, and I begin to hope that he is indeed precious to my soul ; but alas, my love for him soon languishes, and then my doubts and fears return, and I know not what to do, nor what to think of myself." Do not some of you, my brethren, long to have this per- plexing case cleared upl O what would you not give, if you might return home this evening fully satisfied in this point I Well, I would willingly help yoLi, for ex- perience has taught me to sympathise with you under this difficulty. O my heart ! how often hast thou been suspicious of thyself in this respect I The readiest way I can now take to clear up the matter is to answer an- other question, naturally resulting from my subject ; and that is, " How does that high esteem which a believer has for Jesus Christ discover itself] Or how does he show that Christ is indeed precious to him V I answer, he shows it in various ways ; particularly by his affec- tionate thoughts of him, which often rise in his mind, and always find welcome there. He discovers that Jesus is precious to him by hating and resisting whatever is displeasing to him, and by parting with every thing that comes in competition with him. He will let all go rath- er than part with Christ. Honor, reputation, ease, rich- es, pleasure, and even life itself, are nothing to him in comparison of Christ, and he will run the risk of all; nay, will actually lose all, if he niRy bu': win Christ. He discovers his high esteem for him by the pleasure he takes in feeling his heart suitably affected towards him, and by his uneasiness when it is otherwise. O ! when he can love Jesus, when his thoughts affectionately cfeisp 23 266 CHRIST PRECIOUS TO ALL TRUE BELIEVERS. around him, and when he has a heart to serve him, then he is happy, his soul is well, and he is lively and cheer- ful. But, alas ! when it is otherwise with him, when his love languishes, when his heart hardens, when it be- comes out of order for his service, then he grows un- easy and discontented, and cannot be at rest. When Jesus favors him with his gracious presence, and revives him with his influence, how does he rejoice 1 But when his beloved withdraws himself and is gone, how does he lament his absence, and long for his return ! He weeps and cries like a bereaved, deserted orphan, and moans like a loving turtle in the absence of its mate. Because Christ is so precious to him, he cunnot bear the thought of parting with him, and the least jealousy of his love pierces his very heart. Because he loves him, he longs for the full enjoy- ment of him, and is ravished with the prospect of him. Because Christ is precious to him, his interests are so too, and he longs to see his kingdom flourish, and all men fired v/ith his love. Because he loves him, he loves his ordinances ; loves to hear, because it is the word of Jesus ; loves to pray, because it is maintaining inter- course with Jesus; loves to sit at his table, because it is a memorial of Jesus ; and loves his people, because they love Jesus. \Yhatever has a relation to his precious Savior is for that reason precious to him ; and when he feels anything of a contrary disposition, alas ! it grieves him, and makes him abhor himself. These things are sufficient to show that the Lord Jesus has his heart, and is indeed precious to him ; and is not this the very pic- ture of some trembling, doubting- souls amono- you l If it be, take courage. After so many vain searches, you have at length discovered the welcome secret, that Christ is indeed precious to you : and if so, you may be sure that you are precious to him. " You shall be mine, saith the Lord, in the day that I make up my jew- els. Mai. iii. 17. If you are now satisfied, after thorough trial of the case, retain your hope, and let not every dis- couraging appearance renew your jealousies again ; labor to be steady and firm Christians, and do not stag- ger through unbelief. But, alas ! I fear that many of you know nothing ex- Ferimcntally of the exercises of a believing heart, which have been describing, and consequently that Christ is DANGER OF LUKEWAKMJNESS IN RELIGION. 267 flot precious to you. If this is the case, you may be sure indeed you are hateful to him. He is angry with the wicked every day. " Those that honor him, he will honor; b-ut they that despise him shall be lightly esteem- ed." 1 Sqm. ii. 30. And what will you do if Christ should become your enemy and fight against you 1 If this precious stone should become a stone of stumbling and a rock of ofience to you, over which you will fall into ruin, O how dreadful must the fall be ! What must you expect but to lie down in unutterable and everlast- ing sorrow ! SERMON XV. THE DANGER OF LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. Rev. iii. 15, 16. — / know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot : I would thou wert cold or hot. So then, because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold ?ior hot, J will spew thee out of my mouth. The soul of man is endowed with such active powers, that it cannot be idle : and, if we look round the world, we see it all alive and busy in some pursuit or other. What vigorous action, what labor and toil, what hurry, noise, and commotion about the necessaries of life, about riches and honors ! Here men are in earnest : here there is no dissimulation, no indifferency about txie event They sincerely desire, and eagerly strive for these transient delights, or vain embellishments of a mortal life. And may we infer farther, that creatures, thus formed for action, and thus laborious and unwearied in these inferior pursuits, are proportionably vigorous and in earnest in matters of infinitely greater importance '? May we conclude, that they proportion their labor and activity to the nature of things, and that they are most in earnest where they are most concerned \ A stranger to our world, that could conclude nothing concerning 268 THE DANGKlt 01 the conduct of mankind but from the generous presump- tions of his own charitable heart, might persuade him- self that this is the case. But one that has been but a little while conversant with them, and taken the least notice of their temper and practice with regard to that most interesting thing, Religion, must know it is quite otherwise. For look round you, and what do you see '? Here and there indeed you may see a few unfashionable creatures, who act as if they looked upon religion to be the most interesting concern ; and who seem determin- ed, let others do as they will, to make sure of salvation, whatever becomes of them in other respects ; but as to the crenerality, they are very indifferent about it. They will not indeed renounce all religion entirely ; they will make some little profession of the religion that happens to be most modish and reputable in their country, and they Avill conform to some of its institutions ; but it is a matter of indifferency with them, and they are but little concerned about it ; or in the language of my text, they are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot. This threatening, / will spew thee out of my mouthy has been long ago executed with a dreadful severity upon the Laodicean church ; and it is now succeeded by a mongrel race of Pagans and Mahometans ; and the name of Christ is not heard among them. But, though this church has been demolished for so many hundreds of years, that lukewarmness of spirit in religion which brought this judgment upon them, still lives, and pos- sesses the Christians of our age ; it may therefore be expedient for us to consider Christ's friendly warning to them, that we may escape their doom. The epistles to the seven churches in Asia are intro- duced with this solemn and striking preface, " I know thy works :" that is to say, your character is drawn by one that thoroughly knows you ; one who inspects all your conduct, and takes notice of you when you take no notice of yourselves ; one that cannot be imposed upon by an empty profession and artifice, but searches the heart and the reins. O that this truth were deeply im- pressed upon our hearts : for surely we could not trifle and offend while sensible that \ve are under the eye of our Judge ! / know thy works, says he to the Laodicean church, LLTKEWARMAESS IN' RELIGION. 26f^ thht thou art neither cold nor hot. This church v/aa in a very bad condition, and Christ reproves her with the greatest severity ;* and yet we do not find licr charged with the practice or toleration of any gross immoralities, as some of the other churches were. She is not censur- ed U)v indulging fornication among her members, or com- municating with idolaters in eating things sacrificed to idols, like some of the rest. She was free from the in- fection of the Nicolaitans, which had spread among them. What then is her charge % It is a subtle, latent wickedness, that has no shocking appearance, that makes no gross blemish in the outward character of a professor in the view of others, and may escape his own notice ; it is, Thou art lukewarm^ and neither cold nor hot: as if our Lord had said, Thou dost not entirely re- nounce and openly disregard the Christian religion, and thou dost not make it a serious business, and mind it as thy grand concern. Thou hast a form of godliness, but deniest the power. All thy religion is a dull, languid thing, a mere indiHerency ; thine heart is not in it ; it is not animated with the fervor of thy spirit. Thou hast neither the coldness of tiie profligate sinner, nor the sacred fire and life of the true Christian ; but thou keep- est in a sort of medium between them. In some things thou resemblest the one, in other things the other ; as lukewarmness partakes of the nature both of heat and cold. Now such a lukewarmness is an eternal solecism in religion ; it is the most absurd and inconsistent thing imaginable : more so than avowed impiety, or a profess- ed rejection of all religion: therefore, says Christ, / would thou wert cold or hot — i. e. " You might be any thing more consistently than what you are. If you looked upon religion as a cheat, and openly rejected the profession of it, it would not be strange that you should be careless about it, and disregard it in practice. But to own it true, and make a profession of it, and yet be lukewarm and indifferent about it, this is the most ab- surd conduct that can be conceived 5 for, if it be true, it is certainly the most important and interesting truth in * She was as loathsome to him as lukewarm water to the stomach, and he characterizes her as "wretched, and miserable, and iioor, and blind, aod naked." What condition can be more deplorable ana dangerous 1 23* 270 THE DANGER OF all the world, and requires the utmost exertion of all your powers." When Christ expresses his abhorrence of lukewarm- ness in the form of a wish, / would thou wert cold or liot^ we are not to suppose his meaning to be, that coldness or fervor in religion is equally acceptable, or that coldness is at all acceptable to him ; for rea- son and revelation concur to assure us, that the open rejection and avowed contem.pt of religion is an aggra- vated wickedness, as well as an hypocritical profession. But our Lord's design is to express, in the strongest manner possible, how odious and abominable their luke- warmncss was to him ; as if he should saj*, " Your state is so bad, that you cannot change for the worse ; I would rather you were any thing than what you are." You are ready to observe, that the lukewarm professor is in re- ality wicked and corrupt at heart, a slave to sin, and an enemy to God, as well as the avowed sinner ; and there- fore they are both hateful in the sight of God, and both in a state of condemnation. But there are some aggra- vations peculiar to the lukewarm professor that render him peculiarly odious ; as, 1. He adds the sin of a hypo- critical profession to his other sins. The wickedness of real irreligion, and the wickedness of falsely pretending to be religious, meet and centre in him at once. 2. To all this he adds the guilt of presumption, pride, and self- flattery, imagining he is in a safe state and in favor with God ; whereas he that makes no pretensions to religion, has no such umbrage for this conceit and delusion. Thus the miserable Laodiceans " thought themselves rich, and increased in goods, and in need of nothing." 3. Hence it follows, that the lukewarm professor is in the most dan- gerous condition, as he is not liable to conviction, nor so likely to be brought to repentance. Thus publicans and harlots received the gospel more readily than the self- righteous Pharisees. 4. The honor of God and religion is more injured by the negligent, unconscientious be- havior of these Laodiceans, than by the vices of those who make no pretensions to religion; with whom there- fore its honor has no connection. On these accounts you see lukewarmness is more aggravatedly sinful and dangerous than entire coldness about religion. So then, says Christ, " Because thou art lukewarm, LUKEWARMKESS IN RELIGION. 271 nnd neither cold nor liot, I will spew thee out of my mouth ;" this is their doom ; as if he should say, " As lukewarm water is more disagreeable to the stomach than either cold or hot, so you, of all others, are the most abominable to me. I am quite sick of such professors, and I will cast them out of my church, and reject them for ever." My present design is to expose the peculiar absurdity and wickedness of lukewarmness or indifferency in reli- gion ; a disease that has spread its deadly contagion far and wide among us, and calls for a speedy cure. And let me previously observe to you, that, if I do not ofler you sufficient arguments to convince your own reason of the absurdity and wickedness of such a temper, then you may still indulge it ; but that if my arguments are suffi- cient, then shake off your sloth, and be fervent in spirit ; and if you neglect your duty be it at your peril. In illustrating this point I shall proceed upon this plain principle, " That religion is, of all things, the most im- portant in itself, and the most interesting to us." This we cannot deny, without openly pronouncing it an im- posture. If there be a God, as religion teaches us, he is the most glorious, the most venerable, and the most lovely Being ; and nothing can be so important to us as his favor, and nothing so terrible as his displeasure. If he be our Maker, our Benefactor, our Lawgiver and Judge, it must be our greatest concern to serve him with all our might. If Jesus Christ be such a Savior as our religion represents, and we profess to believe, he de- mands our warmest love and most lively services. If eternity, if heaven and hell, and the final judgment, are realities, they are certainly the most august, the most awful, important, and interesting realities : and, in com- parison of them, the most weighty concerns of the pre- sent life are but trifles, dreams, and shadows. If prayer and other religious exercises are our duty, certainly they require all the vigor of our souls ; and nothing can be more absurd or incongruous than to perform them in a languid, spiritless manner, as if we knew not what we were about. If there be any life within us, these are proper objects to call it forth: if our souls are endowed with active powers, here are objects that demand their utmost exertion. Here we can never be so much in ear- 272 THE DiNGER OF nest as the case requires. Trifle about anything, but O do not trifle here ! Be careless and indifferent about crowns and kingdoms, about health, life, and all the world, but O be not careless and indifferent about such immense concerns as these! But to be more particular : let us take a view of a lukewarm temper in various attitudes, or with respect to several objects, particularly towards God — towards Je- sus Christ — a future state of happiness or misery — and in the duties of religion ; and in each of these views we cannot but be shocked at so monstrous a temper, espe- cially if we consider our difficulties and dangers in a religious life, and the eagerness and activity of mankind in inferior pursuits. 1. Consider v/ho and what God is. He is the original uncreated beauty, the sum total of all natural and moral perfections, the origin of all the excellences that are scattered through this glorious universe 5 he is the su- preme good, and the only proper portion for our immor- tal spirits. He also sustains the most majestic and en- dearing relations to us : our Father, our Preserver and Benefactor, our Lawgiver, and our Judge. And is such a Being to be put oft' with heartless, lukewarm services 1 What can be more absurd or impious than to dis- honor supreme excellency and beauty with a languid love and esteem ; to trifle in the presence of the most venerable Majesty ; treat the best of Beings with indifler- ency ; to be careless about our duty to such a Father ; to return such a Benefactor only insipid complimental expressions of gratitude ; to be dull and spiritless in obedience to such a Lawgiver ; and to be indifferent about the favor or displeasure of such a Judge ! I ap- peal to Heaven and earth, if this be not the most shock- ing conduct imaginable. Does not your reason pro- nounce it horrid and most daringly wicked 1 And yet thus is the great and blessed God treated by the gene- rality of mankind. It is most astonishing that he should bear with such treatment so long, and that mankind themselves are not shocked at it : but such the case really is. And are there not some lukewarm Laodiceans in this assembly 1 Jesus knows your works, that you are neither cold nor hot j and it is flt you should also know them. May you not be convinced, upon a little LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 273 inquiry, that your l.earts are habitually indifferent to- wards God 1 You may indeed entertain a speculative esteem or a good opinion of him, but are your souls alive towards him 1 Do they burn with his love 1 And are you fervent in spirit when you are serving him 1 Some of you, I hope, amid all your infirmities, can give comfortable answers to these inquiries. But alas ! how few ! But yet as to such of you as are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, you are the most abominable crea- tures upon earth to a holy God. — Be zealous, be warm, therefore, and repent, (ver. 19.) 2. Is kikewarmness a proper temper towards Jesus Christ % Is this a suitable return for that love Avhich brought him down from his native paradise into our wretched world I That love which kept his mind for thirty-three painful and tedious years intent upon this one object, the salvation of sinners \ That love which rendered him cheerfully patient of the shame, the curse, the tortures of crucifixion, and all the agonies of the most painful death 1 That love which makes him the sinner's friend still in the courts of heaven, where he appears as our prevailing Advocate and Intercessor 1 Blessed Jesus ! is lukewarmness a proper return to thee for all this kindness X No ; methinks devils cannot treat thee w'orse. My fellow-mortals, my fellow-sinners, who are the objects of all this love, can you put him off with languid devotions and faint services \ Then every grate- ful and generous passion is extinct in your souls, and you are qualified to venture upon every form of ingrati- tude and baseness. O was Christ indifferent about your salvation 1 Was his love lukewarm towards you 1 No : your salvation was the object of his most intense appli- cation night and day through the w^hole course of his life, and it lay nearest his heart in the agonies of death. For this he had a baptism to he baptized with, a baptism, an immersion in tears and blood ; and how am I straitened, says he, till it be accomplished I For this with desire, ht desired, to eat his last passover, because it introduced the last scene of his sufferings. His love ! what shall I say of it % What language can describe its strength and ardor 1 " His love was strong as death : the coals thereof were as coals of fire, which had a most vehement flame : many waters could not quench it, nor the floods drown 274 THE D.ANGER OF it." Cant. viii. 6, 7. Never did a tender mother love her sucking child with a love equal to his. Never was a father more anxious to rescue an only son fom the hands of a murderer, or to pluck him out of the fire, than Jesus was to save perishing sinners. Now to neglect him after all ; to forget him ; or to think of him with indiffer- ency, as though he were a being of but little importance, and we but little obliged to him, what is all this but the most unnatural, barbarous ingratitude, and the most shocking wickedness X Do you not expect everlasting happiness from him purchased at the expense of his blood \ And can you hope for such an immense bless- ing from him without feeling yourselves most sensibly obliged to him 1 Can you hope he will do so much for you, and can you be content to do nothing for him, or to go through his service with lukewarmness and languor, as if you cared not how you hurried through it, or how little you had to do with it 1 Can anything be more ab- surd or impious than this 1 Methinks you may defy hell to show a worse temper. May not Christ justly wish you were either cold or hot ; wish you were anything rather than thus lukewarm towards him under a profes sion of friendship ? Alas ! my brethren, if this be your habitual temper, instead of being saved by him, you may expect he will reject you with the most nauseating dis- gust and abhorrence. But, 3. Is lukewarmness and indifferency a suitable temper with respect to a future state of happiness or misery '? Is it a suitable temper with respect to a happiness far exceeding the utmost bounds of our present thoughts and wishes ; a happiness equal to the largest capacities of our souls in their most improved and perfected state ; a happiness beyond the grave, when all the enjoyments of this transitory life have taken an eternal flight from us, and leave us hungry and famishing for ever, if these be our only portion ; a happiness that will last as long as our immortal spirits, and never fade or fly from us { Or are lukewarmness and indifferency a suitable temper with respect to a misery beyond expression, beyond con- ception dreadful ; a misery inflicted by a God of almighty power and inexorable justice upon a number of obstinate, incorrigible rebels for numberless, wilful, and daring pro- vocations, inflicted on purpose to show his wrath and LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 275 make his power known ; a misery proceeding from the united fury of divine indignation, of turbulent passions, of a guilty conscience, of malicious tormenting devils ; a misery (who cfin bear up under the horror of the thought I) that shall last as long as the eternal God shall live to inflict it ; as long as sin shall continue evil to de- serve it ; as long as an immortal spirit shall endure to bear it ; a misery that shall never be mitigated, never intermitted, never, never, never see an end \ And re- member, that a state of happiness or misery is not far remote from us, but near us, just before us; the next year, the next hour, or the next moment, we may enter into it ; is a state for which we are now candidates, now upon trial ; now our eternal all lies at stake ; and O, sirs, does an inactive, careless posture become us in* such a situation 1 Is a state of such happiness, or such misery, is such a state just — ^just before us, a matter of indiffer- ency to us 1 O can you be lukewarm about such mat- ters 1 Was ever such prodigious stupidity seen under the canopy of heaven, or even in the regions of hell, which abound with monstrous and horrid dispositions ] No ; the hardiest ghost below cannot make light of these things. Mortals ! can you trifle about them I Well, trifle a little longer, and your trifling will be over for ever. You may be indifferent about the improving of your time ; but time is not indifferent whether to pass by or not ; it is determined to continue its rapid course, and hurry you into the ocean of eternity, though you should continue sleeping and dreaming through all the passage. Therefore awake, arise ; exert yourselves be- fore your doom be unchangeably fixed. If you have any fire within you, here let it burn ; if you have any active powers, here let them be exerted ; here or nowhere, and on no occasion. Be active, be in earnest where you should be ; or debase and sink yourselves into stocks and stones, and escape the curse of being reasonable and active creatures. Let the criminal, condemned to die to-morrow, be indifferent about a reprieve or a pardon ; let a drowning man be careless about catching at the only plank that can save him : but O do not you be care- less and indifTerent about eternity, and such amazing realities as heaven and hell. If you disbelieve these things you are infidels ; if you believe these things, and 276 THE DANGER OF yet are unaffected with them, you are worse than mfi- dels : you are a sort of shocking singularities, and pro digies in nature. Not hell itself can find a precedent of such a conduct. The devils believe, and tremble; you believe, and trifle with things whose very name strikes solemnity and awe through heaven and hell. But, 4. Let us see how this lukewarm temper agrees with the duties of religion. And as I cannot particularize them all, I shall only mention an instance or two. View a lukewarm professor in prayer ; he pays to an omni- scient God the compliment of a bended knee, as though he could impose upon him with such an empty pretence. When he is addressing the Supreme Majesty of heaven and earth, he hardly ever recollects in whose presence he is, or whom he is speaking to, but seems as if he were worshiping without an object, or pouring out empty words into the air : perhaps through the whole prayer he had not so much as one solemn, aflecting thought of that God whose name he so often invoked. Here is a criminal petitioning for pardon so carelessly, that he scarcely knows what he is about. Here is a needy, famishing beggar pleading for such immense blessings as everlasting salvation, and all the joys of heaven, so lukewarmly and thoughtlessly, as if he cared not whe- ther his requests were granted or not. Here is an ob- noxious offender confessing his sins with a heart un- touched with sorrow ; worshiping the living God with a dead heart ; making great requests, but he forgets them as soon as he rises from his knees, and is not at all in- quisitive what becomes of them, and whether they were accepted or not. And can there be a more shocking, impious, and daring conduct than this 1 To trifle in the royal presence would not be such an audacious affront. For a criminal to catch flies, or sport with a feather, when pleading with his judge for his pardon, would be but a faint shadow of such religious trifling. What are such prayers but solemn mockeries and disguised insults 1 And yet, is not this the usual method in which many of you address the great God 1 The words proceed no fur- ther than from your tongue : you do not pour them out from the bottom of your hearts ; they have no life or spirit in them, and you hardly ever reflect upon their meaning. And when you have talked dway to God in LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 277 this manner, you will have it to pass for a prayer. But surely such prayers must bring down a curse upon yoii instead of a blessing : such sacrifices must be an ahom- ination to the Lord: Prov. xv. 8; and it is astonishing that he has not mingled your blood with your sacrifices, and sent you from your knees to hell ; from thoughtless, unmeaning prayer, to real blasphemy and torture. The next instance I shall mention is with regard to the word of God. You own it divine, you profess it the standard of your religion, and the most excellent booj<: in the world. Now, if this be the case, it is God that speaks to you ; it is God that sends you an epistle when you are readirj^' or hearing his word. How impious and provoking then must it be to neglect it, to let it lie by you as an antiquated, useless book, or to read it in a care- less, superficial manner, and hear it with an inattentive, wandering mind 1 How would you take it, if, when you spoke to your servant about his own interest, he should turn away from you, and not regard you 1 Or if you should write a letter to your son, and he should not so much as carefully read it, or labor to understand it 1 And do not some of you treat the sacred oracles in this manner 1 You make but little use of your Bible, but to teach your children to read : or if you read or hear its contents yourselves, are you not unaffected with them ] One would think you would be all attention and reverence to every word ; you would drink it in, and thirst for it as new-born babes for their mother's milk ; you would feel its energy, and acquire the character of that happy man to whom the God of heaTen vouchsafes to look 5 you would tremble at his word. It reveals the only method of your salvation : it contains the only charter of all your blessings. In short, you have the nearest personal interest in it, and can you be uncon- cerned hearers of it 1 I am sure your reason and con- science must condemn such stupidity and indifferency as incongruous, and outrageously wicked. And now let me remind you of the observation I made when entering upon this subject, that if I should not of- fer sufficient matter of conviction, you might go on in your lukewarmness ; but if your own reason should be fully convinced that such a temper is most wicked and unreasonable, then you might indulge at your peril 24 278 THE DANGER OF What do you say now is the issue 1 Ye modern Laodi- ceans, are you not yet struck with horror at the thought of that insipid, formal, spiritless religion you have hi- therto been contented with '? And do you not see the necessity of following the advice of Christ to the Laodi- cean church, be zealous^ be fervent for the future, and re- pent, bitterly repent of what is past ? To urge this the more, I have two considerations in reserve, of no small weight. 1. Consider the difficulties and dangers in your way. 0 sirs, if you know the difficulty of the work of your salvation, and the great danger of miscarrying in it, you could not be so indifferent about it, nor could you flatter yourselves such languid endeavors will ever suc- ceed. It is a labor, a striving, a race, a warfare ; so it is called in the sacred writings : but would there be any propriety in these expressions, if it were a course of sloth and inactivity ] Consider, you have strong lusts to be subdued, a hard heart to be broken, a variety of graces which you are entirely destitute of, to be implanted and cherished, and that in an unnatural soil, where they will not grow without careful cultivation, and that you have many temptations to be encountered and resisted. In short, you must be made new men, quite other creatures than you now are. And 0 ! can this work be success- fully performed while you make such faint and feeble ef- forts ] Indeed God is the Agent, and all your best en- deavors can never effect the blessed revolution without him. But his assistance is not to be expected in the neglect, or careless use of means, nor is it intended to encourage idleness, but activity and labor : and when he comes to work, he will soon inflame your hearts, and put an end to your lukewarmness. Again, your dangers are also great and numerous ; you are in danger from presumption and from despondency ; from coldness, from lukewarmness, and from false fires and enthusiastic heats ; in danger from self-righteousness, and from open wickedness, from your own corrupt hearts, from this en- snaring world, and from the temptations of the devil : j^ou are in great danger of sleeping on in security, with- out ever being thoroughly awakened ; or, if you should be awakened, you are in danger of resting short of vital religion ; and in either of these cases you are undone for ever. In a word, dangers crowd thick around you LUKEWARMNESS IN RELIGION. 279 on every hand, from every quarter; dangers, into which thousands, millions of your fellow-men have fallen and never recovered. Indeed, all things considered, it is very doubtful whether ever you will be saved, who are now lukeAvarm and secure : 1 do not mean that your success is uncertain if you be brought to use means with proper earnestness ; but alas ! it is awfully uncertain whether ever you will be brought to use them in this manner. And, O sirs, can you continue secure and inactive when you have such difficulties to encounter with in a work of absolute necessity, and when you are surrounded with so many and so great dangers 1 Alas ! are you capable of such destructive madness^. 0 that you knew the true state of the case ! Such a knowledge would soon fire you with the greatest ardor, and make you all life and vigor in this important work. 2. Consider how earnest and active men are in other pursuits. Should w^e form a judgment of the faculties of human nature by the conduct of the generality in re- ligion, we should be apt to conclude that men are mere snails, and that they have no active powers belonging to them. But view them about other affairs, and you find they are all life, fire, and hurry. What labor and toil ! what schemes and contrivances ! what solicitude about success ! what fears of disappointment ! hands, heads, hearts, all busy. And all this to procure those enjoy- ments which at best they cannot long retain, and which the next hour may tear from them. To acquire a name or a diadem, to obtain riches or honors, what hardships are undergone ! what dangers dared ! what rivers of blood shed ! how many millions of lives have been lost ! and how many more endangered ! In short the world is all alive, all in motion with business. On sea and land, at home and abroad, you will find men eagerly pursuing some temporal good. They grow grey-headed, and die m the attempt without reaching their end ; but this dis- appointment does not discourage the survivors and suc- cessors ; still they will continue, or renew the endeavor. Now here men act like themselves ; and they show they are alive, and endowed with powders of great activity. And shall they be thus zealous and laborious in the pur- suit of earthly vanities, and quite indifferent and slug- g^ish in the infinitely more important concerns of eterni- 280 THE DANGER OF ty 1 What, solicitous about a mortal body, but careless about an immortal soul ! Eager in pursuit of joys of a few years, but careless and re-miss in seeking an immor- tality of perfect happiness ! Anxious to avoid poverty, shame, sickness, pain, and all the evils, real or imagina- ry, of the present life ; but indifferent about a whole eternity of the most intolerable misery ! 0, the destructive folly, the daring wickedness of such a con- duct ! My brethren, is religion the only thing which de- mands the utmost exertion of all your powers, and alas! is that the only thing in which you will be dull and in- active 1 Is everlasting happiness the only thing about which you will be remiss '] Is eternal punishment the on- ly misery which you are indifferent whether you escape or not ] Is God the only good which you pursue with faint and lazy desires 1 How preposterous ! how absurd is this ! You can love the world, you can love a father, a child, or a friend ; nay, you can love that abominable, hateful thing, sin : these you can love with ardor, serve with pleasure, pursue with eagerness, and with all your might ; but the ever-blessed God, and the Lord Jesus, your best friend, you put ofi' with a lukewarm heart and spiritless services. O inexpressibly monstrous ! Lord, what is this that has befallen thine own ofispring, that they are so disaffected towards thee 1 Blessed Jesus, what hast thou done that thou shouldst be treated thus 1 O sinners ! what will be the consequence of such a con- duct l Will that God take you into the bosom of his love 1 Will that Jesus save you by his blood, whom you make so light of 1 No, you may go and seek a heaven Avhere you can find it ; for God will give you none. Go, shift for yourselves, or look out for a Savior where you willj Jesus Avill have nothing to do with you, except to take care to inflict proper punishment upon you if you retain this lukewarm temper towards him. Hence, by way of improvement, learn, 1. The vanity and wickedness of a lukewarm religion. Though you should profess the best religion that ever came from heaven, it will not save you ; nay, it will con- demn you with peculiar aggravations if you are luke- warm in it. This spirit of indifferency diflused through it, turns it all into deadly poison. Your religious duties are all abominable to God while the vigor of your spirits LUKEAVARMNESS IN RELIGIOx\. 281 is not exerted in them. Your prayers are insults, and he will answer them as such by terrible things in right- eousness. And do any of you hope to be saved by such a religion 1 I tell you from the God of truth, it will be so far from saving you, that it will certainly ruin you for ever : continue as you are to the last, and you Avill be as certainly damned to all eternity, as Judas, or Beelze- bub, or any ghost in hell. But alas ! 2. How common, how fashionable is this lukewarm religion ! This is the prevailing, epidemical sin of our age and country ; and it is well if it has not the same fa- tal effect upon us it had upon Laodicea; Laodicea lost its liberty, its religion, and its all. Therefore let Virginia hear and fear, and do no more so wickedly. We have thousands of Christians, such as they are ; as many Christians as white men ; but alas ! they are generally of the Laodicean stamp ; they are neither cold nor hot But it is our first concern to know how it is with our- selves ; therefore let this inquiry go round this congre- gation ; are you not such lukewarm Christians 1 Is there any fire and life in your devotions ( Or are not all your "active powers engrossed by other pursuits ] — Impartially make the inquiry, for infinitelj^ more depends upon it than upon your temporal life. 3. If you have hitherto been possessed with this Lao^ dicean spirit, I beseech you indulge it no longer. You have seen that it mars all your religion, and will end in your eternal ruin : and I hope you are not so hardened as to be proof against the energy of this consideration. Why halt you so long between two opinions 1 I icould you were cold or hot. Either make thorough work of re- ligion, or do not pretend to it. Why should you profess a religion which is but an insipid indifferency with you 1 Such a religion is good for nothing. Therefore awake, arise, exert yourselves. Strive to enter in at the strait gate ; strive earnestly, or you are shut out for ever. In- fuse heart and spirit into your religion. " Whatever your hand findeth to do, do it with your might." Now, this moment, while my voice sounds in your ears, now begin the vigorous enterprise. Now collect all the vigor of your souls and breathe it out in such a prayer as this, " Lord, fire this heart with thy love." Prayer is a proper introduction : for let me remind you of what I 24* 282 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT should never forget, that God is the only Author of this sacred fire ; it is only he that can quicken you ; there- fore, ye poor careless creatures, fly to him in an agony of importunity, and never desist, never grow weary till you prevail. 4. And lastly : Let the best of us lament our lukewarm- ness, and earnestly seek more fervor of spirit. Some of you have a little life ; you enjoy some warm and vigor ous moments ; and 0 ! they are divinely sweet. But reflect how soon your spirits flag, your devotion cools, and your zeal languishes. Think of this, and be hum- ble : think of this, and apply for more life. You know where to apply. Christ is your life : therefore cry to him for the communication of it. " Lord Jesus ! a lit- tle more life, a little more vital heat to a languishing soul." Take this method, and " you shall run, and not be wea- ry ; you shall Vv'alk and not faint." Isaiah xl. 3L SERMON XVI. THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. PsALM xcvii. 1. — The Lord reigneth^ let the earth rejoice , let the multitude of the isles he glad thereof. Wise and good rulers are justly accounted an exten- sive blessing to their subjects. In a government where wisdom sits at the helm ; and justice, tempered with clemency, holds the balance of retribution, liberty and property are secured, encroaching ambition is checked, helpless innocence is protected, and universal order is established, and consequently peace and happiness difl'use their streams through the land. In such a situation eve ry heart must rejoice, every countenance look cheerful, and every bosom glow with gratitude to the happy in- struments of such extended beneflcence. But, on the otiier hand, " Wo to thee, O land, when thy king is a child," Eccles. x. 16 ; weak, injudicious, humorsome, and peevish. This is the denunciation of THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 283 Solomon, a sage philosopher, and an opulent king, whose station, capacity, and inclination, conspired to give him the deepest skill in politics : and this denunciation has been accomplished in every age. Empires have fallen, liberty has been fettered, property has been invaded, the lives of men have been arbitrarily taken away, and mise- ry and desolation have broken in like a flood, when the government has been entrusted in the hands of tyranny, of luxury, or rashness 5 and the advantages of climate and soil, and all others which nature could bestOAV, have not been able to make the subjects happy under the bale- ful influence of such an administration. It has frequently been the unhappy fate of nations to be enslaved to such rulers ; but such is the unavoidable imperfection of all human governments, that when, like our own, they are managed by the best hands, they are attended with many calamities, and cannot answer seve- ral valuable ends ; and from both these considerations we may infer the necessity of a divine government over the whole universe, and particularly over the earth, in which we are more especially concerned. Without this supreme universal Monarch, the affairs of this Avorld would fall into confusion ; and the concerns of the next could not be managed at all. The capacities of the wisest of men are scanty, and not equal to all the pur- poses of government ; and hence many affairs of im- portance wdll be unavoidably misconducted 5 and danger- ous plots and aggravated crimes may be undiscovered for want of knowledge, or pass unpunished for want of power. A wnse and good ruler may be diffusing among his subjects all that happiness which can result from the imperfect administration of mortals, but he may be tum- bled from his throne, and his government thrown into the greatest disorder by a more powerful invader ; so that the best ruler could not make his subjects lastingly happy, unless he were universal monarch of the globe (a province too great for any mortal) and above the reach of the ambitious power of others. Further, human do- minion cannot extend to the souls and consciences of men : civ il rulers can neither know nor govern them ; and yet these must be governed and brought into subjec- tion to the eternal laws of reason, otherwise tranquillity cannot subsist on earth ; and especially the great pur- 284- THE DIVINE gover.nm;-:m poses of relig-ion, which regard a future state, cannot be answered. Men are placed here to be formed by a proper educa- tion for another world, for another class, and other em- ploj'ments ; but civil rulers cannot form them for these important ends, and therefore they mnst be under the government of one wdio has access to their spirits, and can manage them as he pleases. Deeply impressed wdth these and other considerations, Avhich shall be presently mentioned, the Psalmist is transported into this reflection, " The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice ; let the multitudes of the isles be glad thereof." The Psalmist seems to have the mediatorial empire of grace erected by Immanuel more immediately in view ; and this indeed deserves our special notice ; but no doubt he included the divine government in general, which is a just ground of universal joy j and in this lati- tude I shall consider the text. Persons in a transport are apt to speak abruptly, and omit the particles of connection and inference usual in calm reasoning. Thus the Psalmist cries out, "The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoicej let the multitude of the isles be glad thereof !" but if we reduce the pas- sage into an argumentative form, it will stand thus, '* The Lord reigneth, therefore let the earth rejoice ; and let the multitude of the isles be glad upon this ac- count." The earth may here signify, by an usual metonymy, the rational inhabitants of the earth, who are especially concerned in the divine government ; or, by a beautiful poetical prosopoposia, it may signify the inanimate globe of the earth, and then it intimates that the divine govern- ment is so important a blessing, that even the inanimate and senseless creation would rejoice in it, were it capa- ble of such passions.* The isles may likewise be taken figuratively for their inhabitants, particularly the Gen tiles, who resided in them ; or literally for tracts of land surrounded with w^ater. My present design is, • By the same figure the inanimate parts of th'j creation are called upon to praise the Lord, Psalm cxlviii., and are said to travail and groan under tlie sin of man. — iiom. viii. 22. THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 285 To illustrate this glorious truth, that Jehovah's su- preme govern??icnt is a just cause of universal joy. For that end I shall consider the divine government in various views, as legislative, providential, mediatorial, and judicial ; and show that in each of these views the divine government is matter of universal joy. I. The Lord reigneth upon a throne of legislation. "Let the earth rejoice; let the multitude of the isles be glad thereof." He is the one supreme Lavrgiver, James iv. 12, and is perfectly qualified for that important trust. Nothing tends more to the advantage of civil society than to have good laws established, according to which mankind are to conduct themselves, and according to which their rulers will deal with them. Now the supreme and uni- versal King has enacted and published the best laws for the government of the moral world, and of the human race in particular. Let the earth then rejoice that God has clearly re- vealed his will to us, and not left us in inextricable per- plexities about our duty to him and mankind. Human reason, or the light of nature, gives us some intimations of the duties of morality, even in our degenerate state, and for this information we should bless God ; but alas ! these discoveries are very imperfect, and Ave need supernatural revelation to make known to us the way of life. Accordingly, the Lord has favored us with the sacred oracles as a supplement to the feeble light of nature ; and in them we are fully " taught what is good, and what the Lord requireth of us." And what cause of joy is this ! How painful are the anxieties that attend uncertainty about matters of duty ! How distressing a doubtful, fluctuating mind, in an afiair of such tremen- dous importance ! This, no doubt, some of you that are conscientious have had the experience of, in particular cases, when you were at a loss to apply to them the general directions in sacred Scripture. Again, '^ let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of the isles be glad," that these laws are suitably enforced with proper sanctions. The sanctions are such as become a God of infinite wisdom, almighty power, inexorable justice, untainted holiness, and unbounded goodness and grace, and such as are agreeable to the nature of 286 THE DIVIME GOVERiN'MEJN'T reasonable creatures formed for an immortal duration. The rewards of obedience in the divine legislation are not such toys as posts of honor and profit, crowns and empires, which are the highest rewards that civil rulers can promise or bestow ; but rational peace and serenity of mind, undaunted bravery under the frowns of adver- sity, a cheerful confidence in the divine guardianship under all the calamities of life, and in the future world an entire exemption from all sorrow, and from sin, the fruitful source of all our afflictions ; the possession of every good, the enjoyment of the divine presence, of the society of angels and the spirits of just men made perfect ; in short, the fruition of a happiness above our present wishes, and equal to our then mature faculties, and all this for ever : these are the rewards of evangeli- cal obedience, not indeed for its ownn sake, but upon account of the righteousness of the blessed Jesus ; and if these fail to allure men to obedience, what can prevail 1 And how happy is it to live under a government, where virtue and reliprion, which in their own nature tend to our happiness, are enforced with such resistless argu- ments ! On the other hand, the penalty annexed by the divine Lawgiver to disobedience is proportionably dreadful. To pine and languish under the secret curse of angry Heaven, which, like a contagious poison, dif- fuses itself through all the enjoyments of the wicked, Mai. ii. 2 ; to sweat under the agonies of a guilty con- science in this world, and in the future world to be ban- ished from the beatific presence of God and all the joys of heaven ; to feel the anguish and remorse of guilty re- flections ; -to burn in unquenchable fire ; to consume a miserable eternity in the horrid society of malignant ghosts ; and all this without the least rational expecta- tion, nay, without so much as a deluded hope of deliver- ance, or the mitigation of torture, through the revolu- tions of endless ages, all this is a faint representation of the penalty annexed to disobedience ; and it is a penalty worthy a God to inflict, and equal to the infinite malig- nity of sin. And " let the earth rejoice ; let the multi- tude of the isles be glad," on account not only of the promissory sanction of the law, but also of this tremen- dous penalty ; for it flows not only from justice, but from goodness, as well as its promise. The penalty is not THE JOY Of OUR WORLD. 287 annexed to the law, nor will it be executed from a ma- lignant pleasure in the misery of the creature, but it is annexed from a regard to the happiness of mankind, and will be executed upon individuals for tlie extensive good of the whole as well as for the honorable display of the divine purity and justice. A penalty is primarily in- tended to deter men from disobedience. Now disobe- dience tends in its own nature to make us miserable ; it renders it impossible, in the nature of things, that we should be happy in the enjoyment of God and the em- plo^'ments of heaven, which are eternally and immutably contrary to sinful dispositions ; and it lills us with those malignant and unruly passions which cannot but make us uneasy. Hence it follows, that, since the penalty tends to deter us from sin, and since sin naturally tends to miake us miserable, therefore the penalty is a kind of gracious enclosure round the pit of misery, to keep us from falling into it : it is a friendly admonition not to drink poison ; it is, in a word, a kind restraint upon us in our career to ruin 5 and indeed it is a blessing we could not spare ; for we find, that, notwithstanding the terror of the threatening, men will run on in sin ; and with how much more horrid alacrity and infernal zeal would they continue their course, if there were no divine threatening to check and withhold them ] The earth may also rejoice for the execution of the penalty of the divine law against sin ; for the conspicuous punishment of the disobedient may serve as a loud v/arning to all rational beings that now exist, or that may hereafter be created, not to offend against God ; and thus it may be the means of preserving them in obedience, and so pro- mote the general good ; and it may be that the number of those that shall be punished of the human and angelic natures, when compared to the number of reasonable beings that shall be confirmed in holiness and happiness by observing their doom, may bear no more proportion than the number of criminals executed in a government as public example does to all the subjects of it ; and con- sequently such punishment may be vindicated on the same principles. Farther, Justice is an amiable attribute in itself, and it appears so to all rational beings but criminals, whose interest it is, that it should not be dis- played J and therefore the infliction of just punishment 288 THE DIVirsE GOVEKi\MEMT should be matter of general joy, since it is amiable in itself. So it is in human governments ; while we are innocent, we approve of the conduct of our magistrates in inflicting capital punishment upon notorious B'ialefac- tors, though the malefactors themselves view it with horror. But to proceed : "Let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of th*. isles be glad," that the divine laws reach the inner mai, and have power upon the hearts and consciences of men. Human laws can only smooth our external conduct at best, but the heart in the meantime may be disloyal and wicked. Now this defect is supplied by the laws of the King of heaven, Avhich are spiritual. They require a complete uniformity and self-consistency in us, that heart and life may agree : and therefore they are wisely fram- ed to make us entirely good. They have also an inimi- table power upon the consciences of men. Should all the world acquit us, yet we cannot acquit ourselves when we violate them. The consciousness of a crime has made many a hardy offender sweat and agonize with re- morse, though no human eye could witness to his offence. Nov/ what cause of joy is it that these laws are quick and powerful, and that they are attended with almighty energy, which in some measure intimidates and restrains the most audacious, and inspires the conscientious with a pious fear of offending ! II. The Lord reigneth by his Providence. " Let the earth therefore rejoice ; and the multitude of the isles be glad thereof." The Providence of God is well described in our short- er Catechism : " It is his most holy, wise, and powerful preserving and governing all his creatures, and all their actions." To particularize all the instances of provi- dential government which may be matter of joy to the earth would be endless, therefore I shall only mention the following : Let the earth rejoice ; and the multitude of the isles be glad^ that the Lord reigneth over the kingdoms of the earth, and manages all their affairs according to his sov- erei^'fn and wise pleasure. We sometimes hear of wars, and rumors of wars, of thrones tottering, and kingdoms fallmg, of the nations tumultuously raging and dashing in angry conflict, like the waves of the boisterous ocean. THE JOV OF OUR WORLD. 289 In s ic:i a iuiicture we may say, " The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up their voice. The floods lift up their waves. But the Lord reigneth, there- fore the world shall be established that it cannot be moved. — The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters ; yea, than the mighty waves of the sea." Psalm xciii. Sometimes the ambition of foreign power, or the encroachments of domestic tyranny, may threaten our liberties, and persecution may seem ready to dis- charge its artillery against the church of God, while every pious heart trembles for the ark, lest it should be carried into the land of its enemies. But the Lord reigneth ! let the earth, let the church rejoice! "the eternal God is her refuge, and underneath her are the everlasting arms." Deut. xxxiii. 27. He will overrule the various revolutions of the world for her good ; he will give kings for her ransom, ^^^thiopia and Seba for her ; and the united powers of earth and hell shall not prevail against her. Though the frame of nature should be unhinged, we may find refuge in our God. Yet it must be owned, that the Lord for the chastisement of his people may sufTer their enemies to break in upon them, and may cast them into the furnace of affliction. But let the earth rejoice, let the church be glad that the Lord reigneth over her most powerful enemies, and that they are but executing his will even when they have no regard to it, but are gratifying their own ambition. They are but a rod in the hand of a tender father, who corrects only to amend : and when he has used the rod for this gracious purpose, he will then lay it aside. In this lan- guage the Almighty speaks of the haughty Assyrian monarch who had pushed his conquest so far and wide. Isaiah x. 5, 6, 7. " O Assyrian, the rod of mine anger," &c. "I will give him my commission, and send him against the Jews, my favorite people ; because they are degenerated into an hypocritical nation, and he shall ex- ecute my orders." "Howbeit, he meaneth not so; it is far from his heart to obej^ my will in this expedition ; but his only design is to aggrandize himself, and to des- troy and cut oft" nations not a few." And when this in- strument of the divine vengeance arrogates to himself the honor of his own successes, with what just insult and disdain does the King o^ kings speak of him ! ver. 12— 25 290 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT 15. " Shall the axe boast itself against him that heweth therewith 1 As if the rod should shake itself against him that lifteth it up," &c. The design of God in these chastisements is to }3urge away the iniquity of his peo- ple ; and this is all the fruit of them to take away their sin ; and when this gracious design is answered, they shall be removed ; " and the rod of the wicked shall not always lie upon the lot of the righteous." Psalm cxxv. 3. Now what cause of universal joy is this, that One infinitely wise sits at the helm, and can steer the feeble vessel of his church through all the outrageous storms of this unfriendly climate and tempestuous ocean ! He may seem at times to lie asleep, but in the article of ex- treme danger he will awake and still the winds and the sea witn his sovereign mandate, Peace^ be still. Men may form deep and politic schemes, and purpose their accomplishment in defiance of Heaven, "but God disap- pointeth the devices of the crafty, so that their hands cannot perform their enterprise. He taketh the wise in their ovrn craftiness, and the counsel of the froward is carried headlong." Job v. 12, 13. This was exemplified in the case of Ahithophel, 2 Sam. xvii. 14. The hearts of men, yea of kings, " are in the hand of the Lord, and he turneth them whithersoever he will." Prov. xx. 1, (see aiso chap. xvi. 1. 9. and xix. 21.) And how joyful a thought this, that we are not at the arbitrary disposal of our fellow-mortals, and that affairs are not managed ac- cording to their capricious pleasure, but that our God is? in heaven, and doth whatsoever he pleaseth ! Ps. cxv. 3 Again, the church may be endangered by intestine divisions and offences. The professors of religion may stumble and fall, and so wound the hearts of the friends of Zion, and give matter of triumph and insult to it? enemies. Some may apostatize, and return like the dog to his vomit. A general lukewarmness may difiuse it self through the church, and even those who retain their integrity in the main may feel the contagion. Divisions and animosities may be inflamed, mutual love may be extinguished, and a spirit of discord succeed in its place. A most melancholy case this, and too much like our own : and our hearts sink at times beneath the burden But the Lo7d reigneth ; let the earth be glad. He can re- duce this confusion into order, and make the wrath of THE JO if OF OUR WORLD. 291 man to praise him, and restrain the remainder of it : Ps. Ixxvi. 10. It is the peculiarity of divine wisdom to educe good out of evil, and let r.s rejoice in it. God is su- preme, and therefore can control all the wicked passions of the mind. He has the residue of the Spirit, and can rekindle the languishino; flame of devotion. And O let us apply to him with the most vigorous and unwearied importunity for so necessary a blessing ! Again, we are exposed to numberless accidental and unforeseen dangers, which we cannot prevent nor en- counter. Sickness and death may proceed from a thou- sand unsuspected causes. Our friends, our estates, and, m short, all our earthly enjoyments, maybe torn from us by a variety of accidents. We w^alk, as it were, in the dark, and may tread on remediless dangers ere w^e are aware. But the Lord reigneth ; let the earth be glad! contingent events are at his disposal, and necessity at his control. The smallest things are not beneath the notice of his providence, and the greatest are not above it. Diseases and misfortunes that seem to happen by chance, are commissioned by the Lord of all ; and they that result evidently from natural causes are sent by his almighty will. He says to one go, and it goeth ; and to another come, and it cometh : he orders the devastations that are made by the most outrageous elements. If flames lay our houses in ashes, they are kindled by his breath. If hurricanes sweep through our land, and carry desolation along with them, they perform his will, and can do nothing beyond it : his hand hurls the thunder, and directs it where to strike. An arrow or a bullet shot at a venture in the heat of battle is carried to its mark by divine direction. How wretched a world would this be were it not under the wise management of divine Providence ! If chance or blind fate were its rulers, what desolations would crowd upon us every moment ! we should soon be crushed in the ruins of a fallen world. Every wind that blows might blast us with death, and fire and water would mingle in a blended chaos, and bury us in their destruction. But so extensive is the care of Providence, that even the sparrows may find safety in it ; and we cannot lose so much as a hair of our heads without its permission: Matt. x. 29, 30, 31. And how 292 THE DiVLXE GOVERNMENT much more then are our persons and our affairs of im- portance under its guardianship and direction ! Again, we are in perpetual danger from the malignant agency of infernal spirits, who watch all opportunities to ruin the souls, bodies, and estates of men. These subtle spirits can inject ensnaring thoughts into our minds, and present such images to the fancy as may allure the soul to sin. This is repeatedly asserted in scripture, and at- tested by the melancholy experience of multitudes in all ages. That they hav-e power also in the material world to raise storms and tempests, and to ruin men's estates, and inflict diseases on their bodies, is plain from the case of Job, and many in our Savior's time, and from Satan's being called the 'prince of the power of the air ; and his associates spiritual wickednesses in hi^h places. And what horrid devastations would these powerful and malicious beings spread through the world if they were not under the control of divine Providence ! They would perpetuahy haunt our minds with ensnaring or terrifying images ; would meet us with temptations at every turn, and lead us willing captives to hell. They v/ould also strip us entirely of all temporal enjoyments, torture our bodies with grievous pains, or moulder them into dust with con- suming and loathsome diseases. But the Lord reigjieth ; Itt the earth be glad. He keeps the infernal lions in chains, and restrains their rage. He sees all their subtle plots and machinations against his feeble sheep, and baffles them all. " He will not suffer his people to be tempted above what they are able to bear ; but with the tempta- tion will also make a way to escape : 1 Cor. x. 13. And when he suffers them to be buffeted, his grace shall be suflicient for them, &c. : 2 Cor. xii. 7, 9. He hath also (as Satan himself confessed with regard to Job) made a hedge about us, about our houses, and about all that we have on every side : Job i. 10 ; and hence we live and enjoy the blessings of life. What cause of grateful joy is this ! Who would not rather die than live in a world ungoverned by divine Providence 1 This earth would soon be turned into a hell, if the infernal armies were let loose upon it. III. The Lord reigneth upon a throne of grace ! " Let the earth rejoice, and the multitude of the isles be glad." It is the mediatorial government of the Messiah which THE JOY OF THE WORLD. 293 the Psalmist had more immediately in view ; and this is the principal cause of joy to the earth and its guilty in- habitants. This is a kind of government peculiar to the human race ; the upright angels do not need it, and the fallen angels are not favoured with it. This is invested in the person of Immanuel, " who is made head over all things to his church," Eph. i. 22, " to whom all power in heaven and earth is given," Matt. xi. 27. and xxviii. 18. This is the kingdom described in such au- gust language in Dan. ii. ver. 44, 45, and vii. 14. Luke i. 32, 33. Hence that Jesus who was mocked with a crown of thorns, and condemned as a criminal at Pilate's bar, wears on his vesture and on his thigh this majestic inscription, King of kings, and Lord of lords. Rev. xix. 16. And behold I bring you glad tidings ; this kingdom ot God is come unto you, and you are called to become its subjects, and share in its blessings. Wherever the gospel is preached, there Jehovah sits upon a mercy-seat in majesty tempered with condescending grace. From thence he invites rebels that had rejected his govern- ment to return to their allegiance, and passes an act of grace upon all that comply with the invitation. To his throne of grace he invites all to come, and offers them the richest blessings. From thence he publishes peace on earth, and good v/ill towards men. From thence he offers pardon to all that will submit to his government, and renounce their sins, those weapons of rebellion. From thence he distributes the influences of his Spirit to subdue obstinate hearts into cheerful submission, to support his subjects under every burden, and furnish them with strength for the spiritual warfare. He sub- dues their rebellious corruptions, animates their languish- ing graces, and protects them from their spiritual ene- mies.* He enacts laws for the regulation of his church, appoints ordinances for her edification, and qualifies minis- ters to dispense them. He hath ascended upon high ; he hath received gifts for men ; and these he hath distribut- ed, and given " some prophets ; and some apostles : and some evangelists ; and some pastors and teachers ; for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ," Eph. iv. 8. 11, • See his rei^n most beautifully described under the type of Solomon, Psalm Ixxii. 25* 294' THE DiriNE GOVERNMENT 12. And it is by virtue of authority derived from him, that his ministers now officiate, and you receive his ordi- nances at their hands. Now how happy are we, that we live under the mediatorial administration I under the em- pire of grace ! — Let the earth rejoice ; let the multitude of the isles he'glad upon this account. And let us pray that all nations may become the willing subjects of our gra- cious Sovereign. If this administration of grace had not j'-et been erected, in what a miserable situation should we have been ! guilty, miserable, and hopeless ! Let us rejoice that the King of heaven, from whom we had re- volted, has not suffered us to perish without remedy in our unnatural rebellion, but holds out the sceptre of his grace to us, that we may touch it and live. IV. And lastly, the Lord will reign ere long upon a throne of universal judgment, conspicuous to the assem- bled universe. " Let the earth therefore rejoice^ and the multitude of the isles he glad.''' Here I may borrow the inimitable language of the Psalmist, Ps. xcvi. 10. 13. " The Lord shall judge the people righteously. Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad: let the sea roar, and the fulness thereof: let the fields be joyful, and all that is therein ; then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice before the Lord, for he cometh ! for he cometh to judge the earth. He shall judge the world with righteousness and the people with his truth." This will indeed be a day of insupportable terror to his enemies. Rev. vi. 15, 16, but, on many ac counts, it will prove a day of joy and triumph. This day will unfold all the mysteries of divine Provi- dence which are now unsearchable. There are many dispensations now for which we cannot account. Many blessings are bestowed, many calamities fall, and many events happen, of which mortals cannot see the reason. Prosperity is the lot of some who seem the peculiar ob- jects of divine vengeance ; and many groan under af- flictions who seem more proper objects of providential beneficence. We arc often led into ways the end of which we cannot see, and are bewildered in various per- plexities about the designs of divine Providence towards us. Hence also impiety takes occasion to cavil at the ways of God as not equal, and to censure his govern- ment as weakly administered. But in that day all his THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. 295 ways will appear to be judgment. The clouds and dark- ness that now surround them will vanish, and the beams of wisdom, goodness, and justice, shall shine illustrious before the whole universe, and every creature shall join the plaudit, He hath done all things ivcll I Now we can at best but see a few links in the chain of providence, but then we shall see it all entire and complete 5 then the w^hole system will be exposed to view at once, which will discover the strange symmetry, connections, depend- encies, and references of all the parts, v.ilhout which we can no more judge of the excellency of the procedure than a rustic could tell the use of the several parts of a watch, if he saw them scattered in various places. Let the earth therefore be glad in expectation of this glori- ous discovery. Again, let the earth rejoice that in that day the pre- sent unequal distributions of Providence will be for ever adjusted, and regulated according to the strictest justice. This is not the place or season for retribution, and there- fore we need not be surprised that the blessings and ca- lamities of this life are not disposed according to men's real characters ; but then every man shall be dealt with according to his works. Oppressed innocence will be redressed, and insolence for ever mortified: calumny will be confuted, and flattery exposed : Lazarus shall be comforted, Dives tormented : impious kings shall be driven into the infernal pit, while pious beggars shall oe advanced to the heights of happiness. In short, all mat- ters will then be set right, and therefore let the earth re- joice. Again, let the earth rejoice that in that day the right- eous shall be completely delivered from all sin and sor- row, and advanced to the perfection of heavenly happi- ness. Then they shall enter upon the full fruition of that bliss, which is now the object of all their anxious hopes and earnest labors. But we must change the scene into tragedy, and take a view of the trembling criminals hearing their dreadful doom, and sinking to hell with horrible anguish. And must the earth rejoice in this too 1 Yes, but Avith a solemn, tremendous joy. Even the condemnation and everlasting misery of these is right and just, is amiable and glorious ; and God, angels and saints, will at the 1296 THE DIVINE GOVERNMENT THE JOY OF OUR WORLD. great day rejoice in it. The awful grandeur of justice will be illustrated in it ; and this is matter of joy. The punishment of irreclaimable im penitents will be an ef- fectual warning to all reasonable beings, and to all future creations, as has been observed ; and by it they will be deterred from disobedience ; and this is the cause of joy. These criminals will then be beyond repentance and reformation, and therefore it is impossible in the na- ture of things they should be happy ; and why then should Heaven be encumbered Avith them 1 Is it not cause of joy that they should be confined in prison who have made themselves unfit for society 1 In the present state sinners are objects of our compassion and sorrow, and the whole creation mourns for them. Rom. viii. 22. But God will then rejoice in their ruin, and laugh at their calamity, Prov. i. 26 ; and all dutiful creatures wiF join in his joy. Thus you see that the Lord reigneth. And Vv'ho, poor feeble saints, who is this that sustains this universal gov ernment, and rules the whole creation according to his pleasure 1 It is your Father, your Savior, your Friend ! It is he that entertains a tenderer regard for you than ever glowed in a human breaet. And can you be so foolish as to regard the surmises of unbelief? Can you force yourselves to fear that he v/ill ever leave or for- sake you 1 Can you suspect that he will suffer you to fall a helpless prey to your enemies 1 No, your Lord reigneth, therefore rejoice. Rejoice in the Lord alway ; and again I say rejoice. While he keeps the throne of the universe, you shall be safe and happy. Your Father is greater than all, and none can pluck you out of his hands. Remember, he sits upon a throne of grace, therefore come to him with boldness. You may smile at calamity and confusion, and rejoice amid the ruins of the world ; you may borrow the language of David, Psalm xlv. ; or of Habakkuk, chap. iii. ver. 17, 18. Re- member also, that, as he is a king, he demands your cheerful obedience, and therefore make his service the business of your life. And, unhappy sinners ! let me ask you. Who is this that reigns King of the universe 1 Why, it is he whom you have rejected from being King over you ; it is he against whom you l:nve rebelled, and who is therefore THE NABIE OF GOD I'ROCLAIIMEIJ BY HIMSELF. 297 your just enemy. And are you able to make good your cause against him who has universal nature at his nodi How dreadful is your situation ! That which may make the earth rejoice, may make you fear and tremble. The Lord reigneth, let sinners tremble. You must fall be- fore him, if you will not cheerfully submit to his govern- ment. Let me therefore renew the usual neglected de- claration, " He sits upon a throne of grace." Let me once more in his name proclaim reconciliation ! reconciliation ! ! in your ears, and invite you to return to your allegiance. Lay down your arms, forsake your sins. Hasten, hasten to him. The sword of his justice now hangs over your heads, while I am managing the treaty with you ; and therefore delay not. Yield ; yield, or die ; surrender, or perish; for you have no other alternative. Submit, and you may join the general joy at his government. You upon earth, and devils and damned ghosts in hell, are the only beings that are sorry for it ; but upon your submission your sorrow shall be turned into joy, and you shall exult " when the Lord of all comes to judge the world with righteousness, and the people with his truth." Psalm xcvi. 13. SERMON XVIL THE KAME OF GOD PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. ExoD. XXXIII. 18, 19. — Jlnd he said^ I beseech thee, show me thy glory. Jlnd he said, I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will proclaim the name of the Lord before thee. — WITH Chap xxxiv. 6, 7. — ^nd the Lord passed by before him, and proclaimed. The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth ; keeping mercy for thousands, or giving iniquity, and transgression, and sin, and thai will by no means clear the guilty It is a' very natural and proper inquiry I'or a creature, " 'W here is God my Maker 1" And a heart that lovei 298 THE NAME OF GOD him must long to know more of him, and is ever ready to join with Moses in his petition, Show 77?e, I pray thee, thy glory ; or, " Reveal thyself to me." That thou art, I in- fer from my owti existence, and from thy numerous works all around me ; and that thou art glorious, 1 learn from the display of thy perfections in thy vast creation, and in the government of the world thou hast made. But, alas ! how small a portion of God is known in the earth ! How faintly does thy glory shine in the feeble eyes of mortals. My knowledge of things in the pre sent state of flesh and blood depends in a great measure* upon the senses ; but God is a spirit invisible to eyes of flesh, and imperceptible through the gross medium of sensation. How and when shall I know thee as thou art, thou great, thou dear unknouTii 1 In what a strange situ- ation am 1 ! I am surrounded with thy omnipresence, yet I cannot perceive thee : thou art as near me as I am to myself; "thou knowest my rising up and my sitting down ; thou understandest my thoughts afar ofl"; thou penetratest my very essence, and knowest me altogeth- er." Psalm cxxxix. 2, dec. But to me thou dwellest in impervious darkness, or which is the same, in light inac- cessible. " O that I knew where I might find him ! Be- hold, 1 go forward, but he is not there ; and backward, but I cannot perceive him : on the left hand, Avhere he doth work, but I cannot behold him : he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him." Job xxiii. 3. 8, 9. I see his perfections beaming upon me from all his works, and his providence ever-active, ruling the vast universe, and diffusing life, motion, and vigor through the whole : the virtue of his wisdom, power and good- ness, Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze ; Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; Lives in all life, extends through all extent ; Spreads undivided, operates unspent ; Inspires our soul, informs our vital part. — Pope. But where is the great Agent himself 1 These are liis« works, and they are glorious : " in wisdom has he made them all," but where is the divine Artificer 1 From these displays of his glory, which strike my senses, I derive some ideas of him ; but O ! liow faint and glimmering ! how unlike to the all-perfect Arch«> PHOCI AIMED BV HIMSELF. 299 type and Original ! I have also heard of him by the hearing of the ear ; I read his own descriptions of him- self in his word ; I contemplate the representations he has given of himself in his ordinances ; and these are truly glorious, but they are adapted to the dark and grovelling minds of mortals in this obscure region, and fall infinitely short of the original glory. I can think of him ; I can love him ; I can converse and carry on a spiritual intercourse with him ; I feel him working in my heart ; I receive sensible communications of love and grace from him ; I dwell at times with unknown delight :^'n the contemplation of his glory, and am transported with the survey : but, alas ! I cannot fully know him ; I cannot dive deep into this mystery of glory ; my senses cannot perceive him ; and my intellectual powers in the present state are not qualified, to converse with spiritual objects, and form a full acquaintance with them. O ! if it would please my God to show me his glory in its full lustre ! 0 that he would reveal himself to me so that my senses may assist my mind ; if such a manner of revelation be possible ! Such thoughts as these may naturally rise in our minds ; and probably some such thoughts possessed the mind of Moses, and were the occasion of his request, / beseech thee show me thy glory. These chapters, whence we have taken our subject of discourse, present us with transactions that must seem very strange and incredible to a mind that knows noth- ing of communion with the Father of spirits, and that is furnished only with modern ideas. Here is, not an angel, but a man ; not a creature only, but a sinner, a sinner once depraved as ourselves, in in- timate audience will the Deity. Jehovah speaks to him face to face, as a /nan speaketh to his friend. Moses uses his interest in favor of a rebellious people, and it was so great that he prevailed : nay, to show the force of his intercessions, and to give him an encouragement to use them, God condescends to represent himself as restrain- ed by this importunate petitioner, and unable to punish the ungrateful Israelites, while Moses pleaded for them, " Let me alone," says he, " that my wrath may wax hot against this people, that I may consume them." Exod. xxxii. 10. Moses urges petition upon petition ; and he 300 THE NAME OF GOD obtains blessing upon blessing, as though God could deny nothing to such a favorite. He first deprecates the divine wrath, that it might not immediately break out upon the Israelites, and cut them off, verses 11 — 14. When he has gained this point, he advances farther, and pleads that God would be their Conductor through the wilderness, as he had been till that time, and lead them into the promised land. In this article God seems to put him off, and to devolve the work of conducting them upon himself; but Moses, sensible that he was not equal to it, insists upon the request, and v/ith a sacred dex- terity urges the divine promises to enforce it. Jehovah at length appears, as it were, partly prevailed upon, and pre- mises to send his angel before him as his guide. Chap. xxxii. 34, and xxxiii. 2. But, alas ! an angel cannot fill up his place ; and Moses renews his petition to the Lord, and humbly tells him that he had rather stay, or even die where they were in the wilderness, than go up to the promised land without him. Jf th^j presence go not with me, carry us up not henze^ chap, xxxiii. 15. " Alas ! the company of an angel, and the possession of a land flow- ing with milk and honey, will not satisfy us without thy- self." His prayers prevail for this blessing also, and Jehovah will not deny him anything. O the surprising prevalency of faith ! O the efficacy of the fervent prayer of a righteous m"n ! And now, when his people are restored unto the divine favor, and God has engaged to go with them, has Moses anything more to ask ? Yes, he found he had indeed great interest with God, and 0 ! he loved him, and longed, and languished for a clearer knowledge of him ; he found that after all his friendly interviews and conferences he knew but little of his glory \ and now, thought he, it is a proper time to put in a petition for this manifestation ; who knows but it may be granted I Accordingly he prays with a mixture of filial boldness and trembling modesty, / beseech thee^ show me thy glory ; that is to say, " Now I am in converse with thee, I per- ceive thou art the most glorious of all beings ; but it is but little of thy glory I as yet know. 0 ! is it possible for a guilty mortal to receive clearer discoveries of it I If so, I pray thee favor me with a more full and bright view." This petition is also granted, and the Lord PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 30] promises him, " I will make all my goodness pass before thee, and I will proclaim the name of the Lord before thee." That you may the better understand this strange his- tory, 1 would have you observe a few things. 1st, In the earliest ages of the world, it was a very common thing for God to assume some visible form, and in it to converse freely with his servants. Of this you frequently read in the history of the patriarchs, particu- larly of Adam, Abraham, Jacob, &c. It is also a tradition almost universally received in all ages, and among all nations, that God has sometimes appeared in a sensible form to mortals. You can hardly meet with one hea- then writer but that you will find in him some traces of this tradition. Upon this, in particular, are founded the many extravagant stories of the poets concerning the appearances of their gods. Had there been no original truth in some appearances of the true God to men, there would have been no color for such fables ; for they would have evidently appeared groundless and unnatural to every reader. This tradition therefore was no doubt originally derived from the appearances of the Deity, in a corporeal form, in early ages.* Sometimes God assumed a human shape, and appeared as a man. Thus he ap- peared to Abraham, in company with two angels. Gen. X viii. and that good patriarch entertained them with food a 1 travelers ; yet one of them is repeatedly styled the Lord, or Jehovah, the incommunicable name of God ; see verses 13, 20, 22, 26, &;c., and speaks in a language proper to him only, verses 14, 21, &;c. Sometimes he appeared as a visible brightness, or a body of light, or in some other sensible form of majesty and glory. Thus he was seen by Moses in the bush as a burning fire ; thus he attended the Israelites through the wilderness, in the symbol of fire by night, and a cloud by day ; * These appearances were probably made in the person of the Son, and might be intended as a prelude or earnest jl'his assuming human na- ture in the fulness of time, and his dwelling among mortals. He was the immediate Agent in the creation of the world ; and the Father devolved upon him the whole economy of Providence from the beginning ; and hence he had frequent occasions to appear on some grand design. It can- not seem incredible that he should thfis assume some visible form to such as believe that God was at length really manifested in tfie flesh; for this temporary apparent incarnation cannot be deemed more strange than his really being made flesh, and dicelling among us. 26 302 THE NAME OF GOD and thus he often appeared in the tabernacle, and at the dedication of Solomon's temple, in some sensible form of glorious brightness, which the Jews called the Shechinali ,- and looked upon as a certain symbol of the divine presence. 2dly, You are to observe that God, who is a spirit, cannot be perceived by the senses ; nor were these sen- sible forms intended to represent the divine essence, which is wholly immaterial. You can no more see God than you can see your o^\^l soul ; and a bodily form can no more represent his nature than shape or color can represent a thought or the affection of love. Yet, 3dly, It must be allowed that majestic and glorious em- blems, or representations of God exhibited to the sens- es, may help to raise our ideas of him. When the sens- es and the imagination assist the power of pure under- standing", its ideas are more lively and impressive : and though no sensible representations can bear any strict re- semblance to the divine nature, yet they may strike our minds deeply, and fill them with images of grandeur and majesty. When I see a magnificent palace, it naturally tends to give me a great idea of the owner or builder. The retinue and pomp of kings, their glittering crowns, sceptres, and other regalia, tend to inspire us with ideas of majesty. In like manner those sensible representa- tions of Deity, especially when attended with some ra- tional descriptions of the divine nature, may help us to form higher conceptions of the glory of God : and the want of such representations may occasion less rever- ence and awe. For instance, had the description of the Deity, The Lord God, merciful and gracious, ut lately since we sprung from nothing, and how near are we still to the confines of no- thing ! We hang over the dreadful gulf of annihilation by a slender thread of being, sustained by the self-origi- nated Jehovah. Eemove him, take away his agency, and universal nature sinks into nothing at once. Take away the root, and the branches wither : dry up the fountain, and the streams cease. If any of you are such fools as to wish in your hearts there were no God, you imprecate annihilation upon the whole universe; you wish total de- struction to yourself and every thing else ; you wish the extinction of all being. All depend upon God, the un- caused cause, the only necessary Being. Sufier me here to make a digression. Is this the God whom the daring sons of men so much forget, dishonor, and disobey 1 Are they so entirely dependent upon him, and yet care- less how they behave towards him, careless whether they love and please him 1 Do they owe their being and their all entirely to him \ And are they wholly in his hand \ What then do they mean by withholding their thoughts and affections from him, breaking his laws and neglecting his gospel \ Can you find a name for such a conduct 1 Would it not be entirely in credible did we not see it with our eyes all around us 1 PROCLAIMED BY HIMSELF. 311 Sinners, what mean you by this conduct I Let the infant rend the Avomb that conceived it, or tear the breasts that cherish it ; go, poison or destroy the bread that should feed you ; dry up the streams that sliould allay your thirst ; stop the breath that keeps you in life ; do these things, or do any thing, but 0 ! do not forget, disobey, and provoke the very Father of your being, to whom you owe it that you are not as much nothing now as you were ten thousand years ago, and on whom you depend, not only for this and that mercy, but for your very being, every moment of your existence, in time and eternity. He can do very well without you, but O what are you without him ! a stream without a fountain, a branch without a root, an eflect without a cause, a mere blank, a nothing. He indeed is self-suffi- cient and self-existent. It is nothing to him, as to his existence, whether creation exists or not. Let men and angels and every creature sink to nothing, from whence they came, his being is still secure : lie enjoys an unpre- carious being of his OAvn, necessarily, unchangeably, and eternally existent. Men and angels bow the knee, fall prostrate and adore before this Being of beings. How mean are you in his presence! what poor, arbitrary, de- pendent, perishing creatures ! what shadows of existence ! what mere nothings ! And is it not fit you should humbly acknowledge it \ Can there be any thing more unnatu- ral, any thing more foolish, any thing more audaciously wicked, than to neglect or contemn such a Being, the Being of beings, the Being that includes all being] I can hardly bear up under the horror of the thought. III. The name Jehovah implies that God is eternal j that is, he always was, is, and ever will be. From ever- lasting to everlasiin,ir he is God. Psalm xc. 2. This is his grand peculiar, he only hath immortality^ 2 Tim. vi. 16, in a full and absolute sense. Men and angels indeed are immortal, but it is but a kind of half-eternity they enjoy. They once were nothing, and continued in that state through an eternal duration. But as Jehovah never will have an end, so he never had a beginning. This follows from his necessary self-existence. If the reason of his existence be in himself, then unless he always existed he never could exist, for nothing without himself could cause him to exist. And if he exists by absolute neces- 312 THE rCAME OF GOD sity, he must always exist, for absolute necessity is al- ways the same, without any relation to time or place. Therefore he always was and ever will be. And what a Avonderful Being is this ! a Being unbe- gun, and that can never have an end! a Being possessed of a complete, entire eternity. Here, my brethren, let your thoughts take wing, and fly backward and forward, and see if you can trace his existence. Fly back in thought about six thousand years, and all nature, as far as appears to us, was a mere blai\k ; no heaven nor earth, no men nor angels. But still the great Eternal lived — lived alone, self-sufficient and self-happy. Fly forward in thought as far as the conflagration, and you will see " the heavens dissolving, and the earth and the thingn that are therein burnt up : " but still Jehovah lives un- changeable, and absolutely independent. Exert all the powers of numbers, add centuries to centuries, thousands to thousands, millions to millions ; fly back, back, back, as far as thought can possibly carry you, still Jehovah ex- ists : nay, you are even then as far from the first moment of his existence as you are now, or ever can be. Take the same prospect before you, and you will find the King eter- nal and immortal still the same : he is then no nearer an end than at the creation, or millions of ages before it. What a glorious being is this ! Here, again, let men and angels, and all the offspring of time, bow the knee and adore. Let them lose themselves in this ocean^ and spend their eternity in ecstatic admiration and love of this eternal Jehovah. 0 ! what a glorious portion is he to his people ! Your earthly enjoyments may pass away like a shadow ; your friends die, yourselves must die, and heaven and earth may vanish like a dream, but your God lives ! he lives for ever, to give you a happiness equal to your immortal duration. Therefore, blessed^ blessed is the people whose God is the Lord ! But O ! let sinners, let wicked men and devils tremble before him, for how dreadful an enemy is an eternal God! He lives for ever to punish you. He lives for ever to hate your sin, to resent your rebellion, and to display his justice ; and while he lives you must be miserable. What a dismal situation are you in, when the eternal existence of Jehovah is an inexhaustible fund of terror to you ! O I'llOCLiMMED BY HIMSELF. 313 hovv have you inverted tiie order of things, when you have made it your interest that the Fountain of being- should cease to be, and that with him yourselves and all other creatures should vanish into nothing ! What a malig- nant thing is sin, that makes existence a curse, and uni- versal annihilation a blessing ! What a strange region is hell, where being, so sweet in itself, and the capacity of all enjoyments, is become the most intolerable bur- den, and every wish is an imprecation of universal anni- hilation ! Sinners, you have now time to consider these miseries and avoid them, and will you be so senseless and fool-hardy as to rush headlong into them % 0 ! if you were but sensible what wdll be the consequences of your conduct in a few years, you w^ould not need per suasions to reform it : but 0 the fatal blindness and stu- pidity of mortals, who will not be convinced of these things till the conviction be too late ! IV. The name of Jehovah implies that God is un- changeable, or ahvays the same. li he exists necessarily, he must always necessarily be what he is, and cuunotbe anything else. He is dependent upon none, aiid there- fore he can be subject to no change from another ; and he is infinitely perfect, and therefore cannot desire to change himself. So that he must be always the same through all duration, from eternity to eternity : the same, Qot only as to his being, but as to his perfections ; the same in power, wisdom, goodness, justice, and happi- ness. Thus he represents himself in his word, as " the Father of lights, with whom there is no variableness, nor shadow of turning : James i. 17 ; " the same yesterday, to-day, and forever : Heb. xiii. 8. What a distinguished perfection is this ! and indeed it is in Jehovah only that immutability can be a perfection. The most excellent creature is capable of progressive improvements, and seems intended for it ; and to fix such a creature at first in an immutable state, w^ould be to limit and restrain it from higher degrees of perfection, and keep it always in a state of infancy. But Jehovah is absolutely, com- pletely, and infinitely perfect, at the highest summit of all possible excellency, infinitely beyond any addition to his perfection, and absolutely incapable of improvement; and consequently, as there is no room for, so there is no need of, a change in him ; and hi? immutability is a per- 27 .314" THE ^AME OF GOD PKOCLAliMED BY HIMSELF. petual, invariable continuance in the highest degree of excellency, and therefore the highest perfection. He is the cause and the spectator of an endless variety of changes in the universe, without the least change in him- self. He sees worlds springing into being, existing awhile, and then dissolving. He sees kingdoms and em- pires forming, rising, and rushing headlong to ruin. He changes the times and the seasons ; removeth kings, and ne setteth up kings : Dan ii. 21 ; and he sees the fickle- ness and vicissitudes of mortals ; he sees generations upon generations vanishing like successive shadows ; he sees them now wise, now foolish 5 now in pursuit of one thing, novv' of another ; now happy, now miserable, and in a thousand different forms. He sees the revolutions in nature, the successions of the seasons, and of night and day. These and a thousand other alterations he beholds, and they are all produced or permitted by his all-ruling providence ; but all these make no change in him ; his being, his perfections, his counsels, and his happiness, are invariably and eternally the same. He is not wise, good, just, or happy, only at times, but he is equally, steadily, and immutably so through the whole of his in- finite duration. O how unlike the fleeting offspring of time, and especially the changing race of man ! Since Jehovah is thus constant and unchangeable, how worthy is he to be chosen as our best friend ! You that love him need fear no change in him. They are not small matters that will turn his heart from you : his love is fixed with judgment, and he never will see reason to reverse it : it is not a transient fit of fondness, but it is deliberate, calm, and steady. You may safely trust your all in his hands, for he cannot deceive you 5 and what- ever or whoever fail you, he will not. " You live in a fickle, uncertain world ; your best friends may prove treacherous or cool towards you ; all your earthly com- forts may wither and die around you ; yea, heaven and earth may pass away ; but your God is still the same. He has assured you of it with his own mouth, and point- ed out to you the happy consequences of it : "I am the Lord Jehovah," says he, "I change not ; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed : " Mai. iii. 6. What a complete happiness is this Jehovah to those who have chosen him for their portion ! If an infinite GOD 16 LOVE. 315 God is now sufficient to satisfy your utmost desires, he will be so to all eternity. He is an ocean of communi- cative happiness that never ebbs or flows, and therefore completely blessed will you ever be who have an inter- est in him. But O ! how miserable are they who are the enemies of this Jehovah ! Sinners, he is unchangeable, and can never lay aside his resentments against sin, or abate in the least degree in his love of virtue and holiness. He will never recede from his purpose to punish impenitent rebels, nor lose his power to accomplish it. His hatred of all moral evil is not a transient passion, but a fixed, invariable, deep-rooted hatred. Therefore, if ever you be happy, there must be a change in you. As you are so opposite to him, there must be an alteration in the one or the other : you see it cannot be in him, and there- fore it must be in you ; and this you ought to labor for above all other things. Let us then have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear, for our God is a consuming Jire (Heb. xii. 28, 29,) to his impenitent and implacable enemies.* SERMON XVIII. GOD IS LOVE. 1 John iv. 8. — God is love. Love is a gentle, pleasing theme, the noblest passion of the human breast, and the fairest ornament of the ra- tional nature. Love is the cement of society, and the source of social, happiness ; and without it the great ♦ Our author has evidently not finished his subject, and I do not find it prosecuted in any of the discourses that have come to my hands : but yet I determined to publish the Sermon, not only for its own (if I mistake not) substantial worth, but the rather as the Sermon that next follows in order, may be considered as a prosecution, if not a completion of the great and glorious subject he has undertaken, particularly of his professed design in this Sermon, " of explaining the several perfections here ascribed to God, and showing that they all concur to constitute his goodness. The Editor. 316 GOD IS LOVE. community of the rational universe would dissolve, and men and angels would turn savages, and roam apart in barbarous solitude. Love is the spring of every plea- sure ; for who could take pleasure in the possession of what he does not love ! Love is the foundation of reli- gion and morality ; for what is more monstrous than re- ligion without love to that God w^ho is the object of it \ Or who can perform social duties without feeling the en- dearments of those relations to which they belong \ Love is the softener and polisher of human minds, and transforms barbarians into men; its pleasures are refin- ed and delicate, and even its pains and anxieties have something in them soothing and pleasing. In a word, love is the brightest beam of divinity that has ever irradi- ated the creation ; the nearest resemblance to the ever- blessed God ; for God is love. - God is love. There is an unfathomable depth in this concise laconic sentence, which even the penetration of an angel's mind cannot reach ; an ineflable excellence, which even celestial eloquence cannot fully represent. God is love ; not only lovely and loving, but love itself ; pure, unmixed love, nothing but love ; love in his nature and in his operations ; the object, source, and quintes- sence of all love. My present design is to recommend the Deity to your affections under the amiable idea of love, and for that end to show that his other perfections are but various modifications of love L Love comprehends the various forms of divine be- neficence. Goodness, that extends its bounties to innu- merable ranks of creatures, and diffuses happiness through the various regions of the universe, except that which is set apart for the dreadful, but salutary and benevolent purpose of confining and punishing incorrigible male- factors ; grace, which so richly showers its blessings upon the undeserving, without past merit or the prospect of future compensation ; mercy, that commiserates and relieves the miserable as well as the undeserving ; pa- tience and long-suffering, which so long tolerate insolent and provoking offenders : what is all this beneficence in all these its different forms towards different objects, what but love under various names 1 It is gracious, mer- ciful, patient and long-suffering love ; love variegated, GOD 19 LOVE. 317 overflowing, and unbounded ; what but love was the Creator of such a world as this, so well accommodated, so richly furnished for the sustenance and comfort of its inhabitants 1 and what but love has planted it so thick with an endless variety of beings, all capable of receiv- ing some stream of happiness from that immense foun- tain of it, the divine goodness 1 Is it not love that pre- serves such an huge unwieldy world as this in order and harmony from age to age, and supplies all its numerous inhabitants with every good 1 and O ! was it not love, free, rich, unmerited love, that provided a Savior for the guilty children of men 1 It was because " God loved the Vv'orld, that he gave his only begotten Son, that who- soever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever- lasting Hfe." John iii. 16. O love, what hast thou done ! what wonders hast thou wrought ! It was thou, almigh- ty love, that broughtest down the Lord of glory from his celestial throne, to die upon a cross an atoning sacrifice for the sins of the world. And what but love is it that peoples the heavenly w'orld v/ith colonies transplanted from this rebellious province of Jehovah's dominions ; that forms such miracles of glory and happiness out of the dust, and the shattered, polluted fragments of human nature ! and what but eternal love perpetuates their bliss through an eternal duration 1 but it is so evident, that these instances of divine goodness are only the effects of love, that it is needless to attempt any farther illus- tration. II. What is divine wisdom but a modification of divine love, planning the best adapted schemes for communi- cating itself in the most advantageous, beneficent, and honorable manner, so as to promote the good of the great whole or collective system of creatures by the happiness of individuals ; or to render the punishment and misery of individuals, which, for important reasons of state may be sometimes necessary in a good govern- ment, subservient to the same benevolent end 1 What- ever traces of divine wisdom we see in creation ; as the order and harmony of the great system of nature, its rich and various furniture, and the conspiracy of all its parts to produce the good of each other and the whole ; whatever divine wisdom appears in conducting the great scheme of providence through the various ages of time : 318 GOD IS LOVE. or in the more astonishing and godlike work of redemp- tion ; in a word, whatever displays of divine wisdom ap- pear in any part of the universe, they are only the sig- natures of divine love. Why was yonder sun fixed where he is, and enriched with such extensive vital in- fluences, but because divine love saw it was best and most conducive to the good of the system 1 Why were our bodies so wonderfulty and fearfully made, and all their parts so well fitted for action and enjoyment, but because divine love drew the plan, and stamped its own amiable image upon theml W^hy was the manifold wisdom of God displayed, not only to mortals, but also to angelic principalities and powers^ Eph. iii. 10, in the scheme of redemption, which advances at once the honors of the divine perfections and government, and the happiness of rebellious and ruined creatures, by an expe- dient which nothing but infinite wisdom could ever devise, the incarnation, the obedience, and passion of the co-equal Son of God % W^hy, I say, but because divine love Avould otherwise be under restraint, and in- capable of giving full scope to its kind propensions in a manner honorable to itself and conducive to the public good % In short, divine wisdom appears to be nothing else but the sagacity of love, to discover ways and means to exercise itself to the greatest advantage ; or, which is the same, divine wisdom always acts under the benign determination and conduct of love : it is the counselor of love to project schemes subservient to its gracious purposes ; and in all its councils love presides. III. W hat is divine power but the omnipotence of iove 1 W^hy did omnipotence exert itself in the produc- tion of this vast amazing world out of nothing '\ It was to open a channel in which the overfloAving ocean of love might extend itself, and diffuse its streams from creature to creature, upwards as high as the most ex- alted archangel, and downwards as low as the meanest vital particle of being, and extensive as the remotest limits of the universe, and all the innumerable interme- diate ranks of existences in the endless chain of nature. And why does divine power still support this prodigious frame, but to keep the channel of love open from age to age 1 and for this purpose it will be exerted to all eter- nity. Perhaps I should assist your ideas of Divine GOD IS LOVE. 319 Power, if I should call it the acting hand, the instru* ment, the servant of love, to perform its orders, and ex- ecute its gracious designs. IV. What is the holiness of God hut love — pure, re- fined, and honorable love 1 What is it but the love of excellence, rectitude, and moral goodness 1 Holiness, m its own nature, has a tendency to promote the happi- ness of the universe ; it is the health, the good consti- tution of a reasonable being ; without which it has no capacity of relishing those enjoyments which are suita- ble to its nature. It is no arbitrary mandate of Heaven that has established the inseparable connection between holiness and happiness, between vice and misery. The connection is as necessary, as immutable, and as much founded in the nature of things, as that between health of body and a capacity of animal enjoyments, or between sickness and a disrelish for the most agreeable food. Every creature in the universe, as far as he is holy, is happy ; and as far as he is unholy, he is miserable. Therefore, by how much the more holy Jehovah is, by so much the more ft he is to communicate happiness to all that enjoy him ; and consequently he is an infinite happiness, for he is infinitely holy. His taking so much care to promote holiness is but taking care of the public good. The strict exactions of his law, which contains every ingredient of the most perfect holiness, and ad- mits of no dispensation, are but strict injunctions to his subjects to pursue that course which infallibly leads them to the most consummate happiness ; and every abatement in his demands of obedience v/ould be a license to them to deduct so much from their happiness, and render themselves so far miserable with his consent. That mitigation of the rigor of his law, which some imagine he has made to bring it down to a level with the abilities of degenerate creatures, disabled by their voluntary wickedness, would no more contribute to their felicity than the allowing a sick man to gratify his vitiated taste by mixing a little deadly poison in his food would contribute to the recovery of his health, or the preservation of his life. The penal sanctions of the divine law are but friendly warnings against danger and misery, and honest admonitions of the destructive con- sequences of sin, according to the unchangeable nature 320 GOE IS LOVE. of things ; they are threatenings which discover no malignity or ill-nature, as sinners are apt to imagine, but the infinite benevolence of the heart of God ; threaten- ings which are not primarily and unconditionally in- tended to be executed, but to prevent all occasion of their being executed, by preventing sin, the natural source, as well as the meritorious cause of every misery: threatenings which are not executed, but as the only expedient left in a desperate case, when all other means have been used in vain, and no other method can secure the public good, or render a worthless criminal a vessel of wrath fitted for destruction^ and fit for nothing else ; of no other service to the great community of rational beings. These are some of the ingredients and displays of the holiness of God : and what are these but so many exertions of pure love and benevolence % It is because he loves his creatures so much that he requires them to be so holy : and that very thing, against which there are so many cavils and objections, as too severe and oppres- sive, and a rigid restraint from the pursuit of pleasure, is the highest instance of the love of God for them, and his regard for their happiness. Let me therefore commence advocate for God with my fellow-men, though it strikes me with horror to think there should be any occasion for it. Ye children of the most tender Father, ye subjects of the most gracious and righteous Sovereign, ye beneficiaries of divine love, why do you harbor hard thoughts of him 1 Is it because his laws are so strict, and tolerate you in no guilty pleas- ure '( This appointment is the kind restraint of love : the love of so good a being will not allow him to dispense with your observance of anything that may contribute to your improvement and advantage, nor indulge you in anything that is in its own nature deadly and destructive, no more than a father will suffer a favorite child to play with a viper, or a good government permit a madman to run at large armed with weapons to destroy himself and others. Do you think hard of God because he hates all moral evil to such a degree, that he has annexed to it everlasting misery of the most exquisite kind 1 But what is this but an expression of his infinite hatred to every thing that is hurtful to his creatures, and his infinite re- gard to whatever tends to their benefit % Or has he been GOD IS LOVE 321 too rigid in exacting- holiness as a necessary pre-requi- site to the happiness of heaven 1 You may as well com- plain of the constitution of nature, that renders absti- nence from poison necessary to the preservation of health, or that does not allow you to quench your thirst in a fever with cold water. Let me remind you once more, that holiness is essential to the happiness of heav- en, and that without it you labor under a moral incapaci- ty of enjoyment ; and a moral incapacity will as inevita- bly deprive you of the pleasures of enjoyment, as if it were natniral. While unholy you can no more be hap- py even in the region of happiness than a stone can en- joy the pleasures of animal life, or a mere animal those of reason. " But why," you will perhaps murmur and object, 'Svhy has God formed such a heaven as cannot be universally enjoyed 1 Why has he not provided a hap- piness for every taste 1" You may as well ask why he has not created a light that would be equally agreeable to every eye ; to the mole and the owd, as well as to n^an and the eagle 1 Or why has he not formed light with all the properties of darkness ; that is, why has he not performed contradictions 1 You may as well query, why has he not given us equal capacities of enjoyments in sickness and in health, and furnished ns with equal pleasures in both 1 I tell you that, in the nature of things, the low and impure pleasures which would suit the depraved taste of the wicked, would be nauseous and painful to pure minds refined and sanctified ; and they cannot mingle, they cannot approach each other without being destroyed. The element of water may as well be converted into a fit residence for the inhabitants of dry land, and yet retain ail its properties that are suitable to its present natives ; or the solid earth become a fit re- ceptacle for fishes, and yet both it and the fishes retain their usual qualities. In short, men, beasts, birds, fishes, insects, angels, devils, the inhabitants of every zone and climate, of every planet, or any other region of the uni- verse, may as well form one society in one and the same place, and mingle their respective food and pleasures, as a heaven of happiness be prepared that would suit every taste. God has prepared the only kind heaven that is in its own nature possible ; the only one that would be au expression- of love, or afford real and extensive hap- 322 GOD IS LOVE. piness lo such of his creatures as are capable of it. The heaven of sinners would be a nuisance to all other be- ings in the universe ; a private good only to malefactors, at the expense of the public ; an open reward of wick- edness, and a public discountenancing of all moral good- ness. This would be the case upon the supposition that the heaven of sinners were possible. But the supposi- tion is infinitely absurd ; it is as impossible as the pleas- ures of sickness, the sensibility of a stone, or the meri- dian splendors of midnight. Therefore acknowledge, admire, and love the beauty of the Lord, his holiness. Give thanks^ says the Psalm- ist, at the remembrance of his holiness. Ps. xcvii. 12, of his holiness, as well as of his goodness and love ; for it is the brightest modification of his love and goodness. An unholy being, in the character of supreme magis- trate of the universe, cannot be all love, or communicate nothing but what is pleasing to all ; nay, as far as he is unholy he must have a malignant disposition towards the public happiness, and be essentially deficient in benevo- Innce. V. What is the justice, even the punitive justice of God, but a modification of love and godness ! As there is no divine perfection which appears so ter- rible to offenders as this, which therefore they toil and sweat to disprove or explain away, I shall dwell the longer upon it. And I hope to convince you that justice is not that grim, stern, tremendous attribute which is de- lineated by the guilty, partial imagination of sinners, who have made it their interest that there should be no such attribute in Deity, but that it is infinitely amiable and lovely, as well as awful and majestic ; nay, that it is love and benevolence itself. By the punitive justice of God, I mean that perfection of his nature which executes the sentence of his law upon offenders, or inflicts upon them the punishment he had threatened to disobedience, exactly according to his own denunciation. The present world, which is a state of trial and discipline, and not of final rewards and punishments, is not the proper theatre of vindictive jus- tice, but of a promiscuous providence ; Ml things come alike to all^ and no man can know the love or hatred of the Ruler of the world towards him, by ali that is before GOD IS LOVE. 323 him. Eccles ix. 1, 2. Yet, sometimes, even in this life, justice arrests the guilty, and displays its illustrious ter- rors upon them, especially upon guilty nations that have no existence in a national capacity in the eternal world, and therefore can be punished in that capacity in this only. It was vindictive justice that deluged the whole world in a flood of vengeance ; that kindled the flames of Sodom and Gomorrah ; and that cut off the nations of Canaan when they had filled up the measure of their iniquities. It is justice that arms kingdoms from age to age, and makes them the executioners of divine wrath upon one another, while they are gratifying their own ambition, avarice or revenge. The devastations of earth- quakes, inundations, plagues, epidemical sicknesses, fa- mines, and the various calamities in which mankind have been involved, are so many displays of divine justice ; and their being brought on the world according to the course of nature, and by means of secondary causes, will by no means prove that they are not so_, but only that the very make and constitution of this world are so planned and formed by divine wisdom as to admit of the execution of justice at proper periods, and that all its parts are the instruments of justice to accomplish its de- signs. But these and all the other judgments of Hea- ven upon our world are only preludes and specimens of the most perfect administration of it in a future state. There the penalty of the law will be executed upon im- penitent offenders with the utmost impartiality. And Revelation assures us that the punishment will be end- less in duration, and of as exquisite a kind and high de- gree as the utmost capacity of the subject will admit ; and consequently that it will not, like fatherly chastise- ments, have any K-ndency to their reformation or advan- tage, but to their entire and everlasting destruction. Now it is this display of punitive justice that appears so terrible and cruel to the guilty children of men ; and therefore this is what I shall principally endeavor to vindicate and to clothe with all the gentle and amiable glories of love and public benevolence. For this end I beg you would consider, that whatever has a tendency to prevent sin tends to prevent misery also, and to promote the happiness of the world and of all the individuals in it ; that good laws are absolutely 324 GOD IS LOTK. necessary for the prevention of sin ; that penal sanctions are essential to good laws ; and that the execution of the penal sanctions upon offenders is absolutely necessary to their efficacy and good tendency 5 and consequently the execution of them is a display of love and benevolence. Consider also, that many are excited to seek everlast- ing happiness, and deterred from th^ ways that lead down to destruction, by means of the tl' eatenings of the laAV ; that even those on whom they are finally executed were once in a capacity of receiving immortal advantage from them, but defeated their good influence and tendency by their own wdlful obstinacy : and that the righteous exe- cution of these threatenings upon the incorrigible, may promote the common good of the universe. Consider farther, that criminals are incompetent judges of vindictive justice, because they are parties ; and therefore we should not form an estimate of it by their prejudices, but from the judgment of the disinterested and impartial part of the creation. Finally consider, that proceedings similar to those of the divine government, are not only approved of as just in all human governments, but also loved and admired as amiable and praiseworthy, and essential to the goodness and benevolence of a ruler. Let us briefly illustrate these several classes of propo- sitions. I. " Whatever has a tendency to prevent sin, tends to prevent misery also, and to promote the happiness of the universe and of all the individuals in it : good laws are absolutely necessary for the prevention of sin : penal sanctions are essential to good laws^ and the seasonable execution of those sanctions is absolutely necessary to their efficacy and good tendency ; and consequently the execution of them is a display of love and benevolence." " Whatever has a tendency to prevent sin, tends to prevent misery also," and that for this reason, because sin is necessarily productive of misery, and destructive of happiness. Can a rational creature be happy that is disafl!ected to the supreme good, the only source of that kind of happiness which is adapted to a rational nature 1 This is as inripossible as that you should enjoy animal pleasures while you abhor all animal enjoyments. Can a social creature be happy in eternal solitude, or in a GOD IS LOVE. 325 slate of society, while ill-aflected towards the other jTiembers of society, or while they are ill-afiected to- wards him and he to them, hateful^ and hating one another I Can a creature, formed capable of felicity superior to what any good can communicate, be happy in the eager pursuit of bubbles ; that is, of its highest happiness in inferior enjoyments 1 All those dispositions of heart, and the practices resulting from them, in which sin consists, enmity to God, uneasy murmurings and insurrections against his perfections, and the government of his law and providence ; a churlish, malignant, envious temper towards mankind; an anxious, excessive eagerness of desire after vain, unsatisfactory enjoyments ; a disrelish for the exalted pleasures of holiness and benevolence \ what are these and the like dispositions, but so many in- gredients of misery, and so many abatements of happi- ness % and consequently all measures that are taken for the prevention of sin are so many benevolent expedients for the prevention of misery and the increase of happi- ness. I add, " good laws are absolutely necessary for the prevention of sin." Indeed those dispositions and ac- tions which are sinful and forbidden by the divine law would be of a deadly nature to the soul, even if they were not forbidden, as a stab to the heart would prove mortal to the body, although there were no laws against it, and for that very reason laws have been made against it. Therefore the laws of God do not properly constitute the destructive nature of sin, but only point out and warn us against what is destructive in its own nature previous to all explicit law. And is it not absolutely necessary, and an act of the highest benevolence, that the supreme Lawgiver should warn us against this pernicious evil, and plainly inform us what it is \ This is the de- sign of his laws both natural and revealed. And without them, wdiat sure instructer, what unerring guide, or what stronof inducements to a proper conduct could we have in this most important case \ Is is not necessary, is it not kind, that the supreme Legislator should interpose his authority, and lay us under the strongest obligations to avoid our own ruin 1 And if good laws are necessa- ry, so are penal sanctions ; for " penal sanctions are es- sential to good laws." Laws without penalties would be 28 326 GOD IS LOVE. only the advices of an equal or an inferior, and not the obligatory commands of authority. They might be ob- served or not, according to pleasure, and consequently would answer no valuable purpose. They would also be infinitely absurd in their own nature ; for if what the law enjoins be reasonable, necessary, and of good tendency, is it not necessary and fit that they who do not observe it should feel the bad effects of their omission 1 And w^hat is this but a penalty 1 Cut on a point so plain I need not multiply words ; I appeal to the common sense of mankind, I appeal to the universal practice of all govern- ments. Have there ever been, or can there possibly be any laws without penal sanctions 1 Would not such laws be exposed to perpetual insult and contempt, and be des- titute of all force and energy 1 The common sense and universal practice of all the world, in all ages, remon strate against such an absurdity. But if penal sanctions are essential to good laws, then so is their execution ; for — " The seasonable execution of penal sanctions is abso- lutely necessary to their efficacy and good tendency." Penalties denounced can have no efficacy upon the sub- ject of the law ; that is, they cannot excite fear, and by that means deter them from disobedience, unless they are believed, and their execution expected. But they would soon cease to be believed, and their execution would no longer be expected, if in several instances they should be dispensed with, and a succession of sinners should pass with impunity. Other sinners, judging of future events by past facts, would expect the same indul- gence, and therefore venture upon disobedience without any restraint from the penalty of the law. Here again I shall bring the matter to a quick decision, by appealing to the common reason and universal practice of mankind. Would human laws have any force if the penalty was hung up as an empty terror, and never executed \ Would not such laws be liable to perpetual violation and insult, and become the sport of daring offenders \ Would not the escapes of former offenders encourage all future ge- nerations to give themselves a-loose, in hopes of the same exemption 1 Is it not necessary in all governments that public justice should make examples of some, tc warn and deter others 1 Have not all nations, especially GOD IS LOVE. 327 the more civilized, made such examples 1 And have not all the impartial world commended their proceeding as necessary to the safety and happiness of society, and ex- pressive of their regard to the public good 1 View all these things together, and methinks I may bid defiance to common sense to draw any other conclu- sion than that the justice of God, in executing the pe- nalties of his law upon impenitent offenders, is the height of goodness and love. If love requires that all proper expedients. by used for the prevention of sin ; if good laws are necessary for this end ; if penalties are essen- tial to good laws ; and if the seasonable execution of penalties be absolutely necessary to give them their be- nevolent force and good tendency, does it not unavoida- bly follow, that love itself requires both the enacting of penal sanctions to the law of God, and the execution of them upon proper subjects 1 Without this wholesome severity, the divine laws would be less secure from con- tempt, and the divine government would be less favora- ble to the peace and happiness of the subjects than the laws and governments of mortals in all civilized nations. " But why does the penalty rise so high '( Why is the execution lengthened out through everlasting ages 1 Why might not a gentler punishment suffice V This is the grand objection ; and in such language as this the enmity of the rebellious heart against the justice of God generally expresses itself. But if the original design and natural tendency of the threatened penalty be to prevent sin, then by how much severer the penalty, by no much the more effectual tendency has it to answer this kind design 1 No punishments can rise higher than those which a righteous God has annexed to disobedience the natural source of every misery ; and what is this but to say that no methods more eflectual can be taken to prevent it than what he has actually taken 1 We may therefore infer the ardor of the love oi: God from the ter- ror of his threatenings. He has denounced the greatest misery against sin, in order to restrain his creatures from running into that very misery ; and threatens the loss of heaven, in order to prevent his creatures from losing it. I must also here repeat the common argument, which appears to me as valid as common j " that as the essence 328 GOD IS LOVE of sin consists in the breach of an obligation, the evil of sin must be exactly proportioned to the strength of the obligation :" that as we are undoubtedly under infi- nite obligations to a God of infinite excellency, our Maker, Ruler, and Benefactor, the evil of sin, which vio- lates those obligations, must be infinite also ; and that no punishment short of w^hat is infinite can be adequate to the demerit of an infinite evil, and consequently sinners ought to suffer a finite punishment through an infinite duration, because that is the only way in which they are able to bear an infinit-e punishment. But on this common topic a few hints may suffice. I proceed to the next set of propositions. II. " That many are excited to the pursuit of everlast- ing happiness, and deterred from the ways of destruction, by means of threatenings of the divine law ; that even those unhappy creatures on whom they are finally exe- cuted v/ere once in a capacity of receiving immortal advantage from them, but defeated their good influence and tendency by their own wilful obstinacy : and that the righteous execution of these threatenings upon the incorrigible may promote the common good of the uni- verse." "Many are excited to the pursuit of everlasting hap- piness, and deterred from the ways of destruction, by means of the threatenings of the divine law." I appeal to experience and observation, whether the terrors of the Lord are not the very first thing that gives a check to sinners in their headlong career to ruin 1 It is the Lord that worketh wrath^ Rom. iv. 15 ; that is, an alarm- ing apprehension of the wrath of God against sin ; and constrains them to use the instituted means of deliver- ance. Thus even the terrors of the law are made sub- servient to divine love, in "turning sinners from the error of their way, and saving souls from death." And could we consult the glorious assembly of the spirits of just men made perfect, they would all own that if their heavenly Father had not threatened them so severely, they would always have continued undutiful, and conse- quently rendered themselves miserable ; and that they were saved from hell by being honestly warned of the danger of falling into h. It is true there are multitudes who do not receive this advantage by the penal sanctions GOD IS LOVE. 329 of the divine law, but are made miserable for ever by the execution of them ; yet it may be added, " That even those unhappy creatures on whom they are executed, were once in a capacity of receiving infi- nite advantage from them, but defeated their good in- fluence and tendency in their own wilful obstinacy." The threatenings of the divine law had the same good tendency in their own nature with respect to them, to deter them from disobedience, and urge their pursuit of happiness, as with respect to others ; and these were some of the means of God appointed for their salvation. But they hardened themselves against them and thus defeated their good tendency, and obstinately ruined themselves in defiance of warning : they even forced a passage into the infernal pit through the strongest en- closures. But if they had not been thus warned, they not only would not have been saved in the event, but they would not have enjoyed the means of salvation. Now their enjoying these means was in itself an inex- pressible blessing, though in the issue it only aggravates their misery ; and consequentl}^ the enacting those penalties to the divine law was really an act of kind- ness even to them ; and their abuse of the blessing does not alter its nature. The primary and direct end of a penalty is not the punishment of the subjects, but to restrain them from things injurious to themselves, and others, and urge them to pursue their own interest. But when this good end is not answered, by reason of their wilful folly and disobedience, then, and not till then, the execution is necessary for the good of others,* which leads me to add, " That the righteous execution of the threatened penalty upon the incorrigible may promote the com- * Penalties, operate, like final causes, by a kind of retrospective influ- ence : that is, whilst they are only threatened, and the subject expects they will be executed, should he turn disobedient, they have a powerful tendency, to deter him from disobedience. But tliey could not nave this benevolent tendency, unless they be executed upon those, on \yhom their primary and chief design is not obtained ; namely, the restraining of them Irom sin. It is enough that the oflTenders themselves once had an oppor- tunity of taking warning, and reaping the advantage of the threatened penally, while they were in a stale of trial, and candidates for eternity. But it is absurd that they should receive any benefit from it, when, after sufficient trial, it appears they will take no warning, but are resolved to persist in sin, in defiance of the most tremendous penalties. 28* 330 GOD IS LOVE. mon good of the universe." This world of ours is a public theatre, surrounded Avith numerous spectators, who are interested in its affairs. Angels, in particular, are witnesses of the proceedings of Providence towards mankind and thence learn the perfections of God, and the maxims of his government. Hell is also a region dreadfully conspicuous to them ; and there, no doubt, the offended Judge intend? to show his wrath, and make his power known to them as well as to mankind. Now they are held in obedience by rational motives, and not by any mechanical compulsion. And among other mo- tives of a gentler kind, no doubt this is one of no small weight ; namely, their observing the destructive conse- quences of sin upon men and angels, and the terrible dis- pleasure of God against it. It is not at all inconsistent with their dignity and purity to suppose them swayed by this motive in a proper connection with others of a more disinterested and generous nature. Therefore the confirmation of the elect angels in holiness, and their everlasting happiness, is no doubt not a little secured and promoted by the execution of righteous punishment upon some notorious hardened malefactors, both of their own order and of the human race. The same thing may be said of the spirits of just men made perfect ; they are happily incapable of sinning, and consequently of becoming miserable ; but their incapa- city arises from the clear conviction of their understand- ing, which has the conduct of their will : and, while sin appears to them so deadly and destructive an evil, it is impossible, according to the make of a rational nr.'^nre, that they should choose it. But the consequences of sin upon the wretched creatures on whom the penalty de- nounced against it is executed, is no doubl one thing that affords them this conviction ; and so it contributes to their perseverance in obedience and happiness. Thus the joys of heaven are secured by the pains of hell, and even the most noxious criminals, the enemies of God and his creatures, are not useless in the universe, but answer the terrible but benevolent end of warning all other creatures against disobedience ; which would in- volve them in the same misery, just as the execution of a few malefactors in human governments is of extensive service to th.e rest of the subjects. GOD IS LOVE. 331 But as the greater part of mankind perish, it may be queried, " How is it consistent with love and goodness, that the majority should be punished and made monu- ments of justice, for the benefit of the smaller number 1" To this I reply, that though it be equally evident from scripture and observation, that the greater part of man- kind go down to destruction in the smooth, broad de- scending road of sin, in th*:* ordinary ages of the world; and though revelation assures us that the number of the apostate angels is very great, yet I think we have no rea- son to conclude that the greater part of the rational cre- ation shall be miserable ; nay, it is possible the number of those on whom the penalty of the divine law is inflict- ed, may bear no more proportion to that of the innumer- able ranks of creatures that may be retained in obedi- ence and happiness by means of their conspicuous and exemplary punishment, than the number of criminals ex- ecuted in our government, for the warning of others, bears to the rest of the subjects. If we consider that those who have been redeemed from the earthy even in the ordinary ages ot the world, though comparatively but few, yet absolutely are a " multitude which no man can number, out of every kindred, and people, and lan- guage," Kev. viii. 9, and that the elect angels arc aji in- numerahle company^"^ Heb. xii. 22, perhaps much greater than the legions of hell ; if to those we add the prodis gious numbers that shall be converted in that long and blessed season when Satan shall be bound, when the prince of peace shall reign, and when " the kingdom and dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom under the whole heaven shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High," Dan. vii. 27, in which not only the greater number of the generations that shall live in that glorious millennium shall be saved, but perhaps a great- er number than all that perished in former generations, which is very possible, if we consider the long continu- ance of that time, and that the world will then be under the peculiar blessing of Heaven, and consequently man kind will multiply faster, and not be diminished as they * 1 do not forget that the original is myriads of angels. But the word is often, I think, generally used in the Greek classics, not for any definite unmber, but for a great and innumerable multitude.'' And so it is used here. 332 GOD IS LOYE. now are by the calamities of war, plagues, epidemical sicknesses, and the other judgments of God upon those times of rebellion ; if we also borrow a little light from the hypotliesis of philosophy, and suppose that the other planets of our system are peopled like our earth with proper inhabitants, and particularly with reasonable crea- tures, (for he that made those vast bodies made them, not in vain, he made them to be inhabited ;) if we further sup pose that each of the innumerable fixed stars is a sun, the centre of habitable worlds, and that all these worlds, like our own, swarm with life, and particularly with va- rious classes of reasonable beings, (which is not at all unlikely, if we argue from parity of cases, from things well known to things less known, or from the immense everflowing goodness, wisdom and power of the great Creator, who can replenish the infinite voids of space with being, life, and reason, and with equal ease produce and support ten thousand worlds as ten thousand grains ;) if we suppose that his creative perfections will not lie inactive for ever, contented Avith one exertion for six days, but that he still employs and will employ them for ever in causing new worlds, replenished with moral agents, to start into existence here and there in the end- less vacancies of space ; and finally, if we suppose that the flames of hell v/ili blaze dreadfully bright and con- spicuous in the view of all present and future creations ; or that the destructive nature of sin will be some way or another made known to the rational inhabitants of all worlds by the punishment inflicted upon a number of men and angels, and that by this means they are eflect- ually deterred from sin, and preserved from the misery inseparable from it ; I say, if we admit these supposi- tions, some of which are undoubtedly true, and the rest I think not improbable, then it will follow that the num- ber of holy and happy creatures in the universe will be incomparably greater than that of miserable criminals and that the punishment of the latter is one principal mean of preserving this infinite number in obedience and happiness; and consequently is highly conducive to the public happiness, and expressive of the love and good- ness of the universal Ruler to the immense community of his^ subjects. And thus God is love, even in the most terrible displays of his vindictive justice. GOD IS LOVE. 333 To illustrate this subject, consider farther : III. " That criminals are incompetent judges of vin- dictive justice." They are parties, and it is their inter- est there should be no such attribute as justice in the Deity. It is natural for them to flatter themselves that their crimes are small ; that their Judge will suffer them to escape with impunity, or with a gentle punishment, and that if he should do otherwise, he would be unmer- ciful, unjust, and cruel. The excess of self-love sug- gests to them a thousand excuses and extenuations of their guilt, and flatters them with a thousand favorable presumptions. An impenitent criminal is always an un- generous, mean-spirited, selfish creature, and has noth- ing of that noble disinterested self-deninl and impartiali- ty which would generously condemn himself and approve of that sentence by which he dies. A little acquaint- ance with the conduct of mankind will soon make us sensible of their partiality and WTong judjrments in mat- ters where self is concerned ; and particularly kow unfit they are to form an estimate of justice when themselves are to stand as criminals at its bar. Now this is the case of all mankind in the allair now under considera- tion. They are criminals at the bar of divine justice ; they are the parties to be tried ; they are under the do- minion of a selfish spirit ; it is natural to them to palli- ate their own crimes, and to form flattering expectations from the clemency of their Judge. And are they fit persons to prescribe to their judge how he should deal with them, or what measure of punishment he ought to inflict upon them 1 Sinners ! dare you usurp this high province 1 Dare you " Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod, Rejudge his justice, be the god of God ! " * Rather stand at the bar, ye criminals ! that is your place. Do not dare to ascend the throne ; that is the place of your Judge. Stand silent, and await his righte- ous sentence, which is always just, always best : or, if creatures must judge of the justice of their Sovereign, I appeal to the saints ; I appeal to angels, those compe- tent disinterested judges ; I appeal to every uprig,ht, im- • Pope's Essay on Man. 334 GOD IS LOVE. partial being in the universe. They approve, they cele- brate, they adnnire, and love all the displays of punitive justice, as necessary to the public good : and their judg- ment may be depended on ; it is not misled by ignorance nor perverted by self-interest. To whom would you ap- peal as judges of the proceedings of courts of justice among men 1 To malefactors in a dungeon, who have made justice their enemy, and who are therefore enemies to it 1 No ; but you would appeal to obedient subjects, who are not obnoxious to justice themselves, but enjoy protection under its guardianship, and are sensible of its beauty and public utility. They all approve it with one voice, and would look upon a supreme magistrate with- out it as a very contemptible and odious character, and essentially deficient in goodness. Hence it follows that even the punitive justice of God not only is in reality, but to all impartial judges appears to be a most amiable, engaging, and beneficent perfection ; majestic indeed, but not forbidding ; awful, but not sullen and hateful ; terrible, but only to criminals ; and destructive only to what destroys the public good. I have so far anticipated myself that I need hardly add, IV. " That proceedings similar to those of the divine government are not only approved of as just in all human governments, but also loved and admired as amiable and praise-worthy, and highly essential to the goodness and benevolence of a ruler." Does the supreme Lawgiver annex severe penalties to his laws, which render the disobedient miserable for ever 1 So do human governments, with the unanimous approba- tion of their subjects ; they inflict punishments that af- fect life, and cut off the offender from civil society for- ever ; and this is the only kind of everlasting punishment that can be endured or executed by mortals. Does Je- hovah maintain good order in his immense empire, pro- tect his subjects, and deter them from offending by mak- ing examples of the guilty 1 and does he secure and ad- vance the good of the whole by the conspicuous punish- ment of obnoxious individuals 1 This is done every day for the same ends in human governments, and that with universal approbation! Does he inflict punishments that are not at all intended for the reformation and advantage of the guilty sufTerer, but only for the admonition and GOD IS I.DVE. 335 benefit of others 1 This is always the case in human governments when the punishment reaches to the life ; for then the offender himself is put out of all cnpacity of reformation or personal advantaG:e by it, but he suffers entirely for the good of others. Even criminals must be made useful to society ; and this is the only use they are fit to answer. Would it not be inexpedient and greatly injurious for a magistrate, in his public charac- ter, to forgive crimes and suffer criminals to escape, though to do so in a private character might be a virtue 1 Just so God, who is the supreme. Magistrate of the uni- verse, and not at all to be considered, in this case, as a private person acting only in a private character ; the great God, I say, is obliged, by his regard for his own honor and the benefit of his subjects, to inflict proper punishments and distribute his pardoning mercy to indi- viduals consistently with the general good of the whole. V/hat would be revenge in a private person, which is the ruling passion of devils, is justice, lionor, and benevo- lence itself in the supreme Ruler of the world ; and a failure in this would render him not only less glorious and majestic, but less amiable, less beneficent to his creatures. I know hardly any thing of so much importance to give us just sentiments of the proceedings of God wdth his creatures, as that w^e should conceive of him as a moral Ruler, or the supreme Magistrate of the world. And it is owing to their not considering him in this cha- racter that sinners indulge such mistaken, dangerous presumptions concerning him. They choose to con- ceive of him under some fond and tender name, as a Being of infinite grace, the indulgent Father of his crea- tures, &c. All this is true ; but it is equally true that he is their moral Ruler as well as their Father. His creatures are his subjects as well as his children ; and he must act the wise and righteous Magistrate as well as the tender Father towards them. His goodness is that of a Ruler, and not of a private person ; and his pardon- ing of sin and receiving offenders into favor, are not pri- vate kindnesses, but acts of government, and therefore they mxust be conducted with the utmost wisdom ; for a w^rons" step in his infinite administration, which affects 336 GOD JS LOVE. such innumerable multitudes of subjects, would be an infinite evil, and might admit of no reparation. Though I have thus enlarged upon this subject, yet 1 am far from exhausting my materials. But these things, 1 hope, are sufficient to convince your understandings that divine justice is not that unkind, cruel, and savage thing sinners are wont to imagine it ; but that God is just, be- cause God is love ; and that he punishes not because he is the enemy, but because he is the friend of his crea- tures, and because he loves the whole too well to let particular offenders do mischief with impunity.* I shall only add, that this is the view Jehovah has given of himself in the clearest manifestation of his per- fections that he ever made to mortals. He promises his favorite Moses, that he would make all his goodness pass before him. Observe, it is his goodness he intends to exhibit ; and the proclamation runs thus : " The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, for- giving iniquity," &c. That these are acts or modifica- tions of goodness, will be easily granted. But observe, it is added even in this proclamation of his goodness, That he will by no means clear the guilty : intimating, that to be just and punish sin is an act of goodness, as well as to be merciful and to forgive it. And nov/ when we have this copious subject in review, does it not suggest to us such conclusions as these : L May we not conclude that the case of impenitent sinners is desperate indeed, when it is not excessive ri- gor, not a malignity of temper, nor tyranny, or a savage delight in torture that condemns them, but goodness itself, love itselfl Even the gentler perfections of the Deity, those from which they derive their presumptuous hopes, • It may perhaps be objected, *' That to represent justice under the no- tion of love IS to affect singularity in language, to destroy the distinction of the divine attributes, and tlie essential difference of things." — To whicli I answer, 1. That a catachresis may be beautiful and emphatical, though it be always a seeming impropriety in language. Such is this represent- ation, " Divine justice, divine love." 2. I do not deny that God's exe- cuting righteous punishment upon the guilty may be called justice ; but then It is his love to the public that excites him to do this ; and there- fore his doing it may be properly denominated love, as well as justice, or love under the name of justice, which is love still. 3. I do not mean that the usual names of things should be changed, but that we should afiix suitable ideas to them. We may retain the name of justice still, but let us not affix ideas to it that are inconsistent with divine love. Let us not look upon it as the attribute of a tyrant, but of a wise and good ruler. GOD IS LOVE. 337 are conspired against ihcin, and unite their forces to render them miserable, in order to prevent greater misery from spreading- through the universe. Impenitent sinners ! even the unbounded love of God to his creatures is your enemy. Love, under the name and form of justice, which is equally love stiil, demands your execution ; and to suffer you to escape would not only be an act of in- justice, but an act of malignity and hostility against the whole system of rational beings. Therefore repent and be holy, otherwise divine love will not suffer you to be happy. God is love ; therefore will he confine you in the infernal prison, as a regard to the public welfare in hu- man governments shuts up criminals in a dungeon, and madmen in Bedlam. II. May we not hence conclude that all the acts of the Deity may be resolved into the benevolent principle of love ] God is love ; therefore he made this vast universe, and planted it so thick with variegated life. God in love ; therefore he still rules the world he has made, and in- flicts chastisements and judgments upon it fror.i every age. God is love ; therefore he spared not hi:, own Son, but made him the victim of his justice. God is love ; therefore he requires perfect holiness, perfect obedience from all his subjects. God is love ; therefore he has enacted such tremendous sanctions to his law, and exe- cutes them in their full extent upon offenders. God is love ; therefore he has made the prison of hell, and there confines in chains of everlasting darkness those malevo- lent creatures, that would be a nuisance to society, and public mischiefs, if suffered to run at large. In short, whatever he does, he does it because he is love. How amiable a view of him is this I Therefore, III. We may certainly conclude that if God be love, then all his creatures ought to love him. Love him, O all ye inhabitants of heaven ! But they need not my exhortation ; they know him, and therefore cannot but love him. Love him, all ye inhabitants of the planetary worlds ; if such there be. These also I hope need no exhortation, for we would willingly persuade ourselves that other territories of this immense empire have not rebelled against him as this earth has done. Love him, 0 ye children of men ! To you I call : but O ! I fear I shall call in vain. To love him who is all love is the ii9 338 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. most hopeless proposal one can make to the world. But whatever others do, love the Lord, all ye his saints ! You I know cannot resist the motion. Surely your love even now is all on fire. Love the Lord, 0 my soul ! Amen. SERMON XIX. THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. John v . 28, 29. — The hour is coming in the which all that are in the grave shall hear his voice, and shall come forth ; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life : and they that have done evil, to the resurrection of dam- nation. Ever since sin entered into the world and death hy sin, this earth has been a vast grave-yard, or burying- place, for her children. In every age, and in every country, that sentence has been executing, Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return. The earth has been arched with graves, the last lodgings of mortals, and the bottom of the ocean paved with the bones of men.* Hu- man nature was at first confined to one pair, but how soon and how wide did it spread ! How inconceivably numerous are the sons of Adam ! How many different nations on our globe contain many millions of men even in one generation ! And how many generations have succeeded one another in the long run of near six thou- sand years ! Let imagination call up this vast army : children that just light upon our globe, and then wing their flight into an unknown world ; the gray -headed that have had a long journey through life ; the blooming youth and the middle-aged, let them pass in review be- fore us from all countries and from all ages ; and how vast and astonishing the multitude ! If the posterity of one man (Abraham) by one son was, according to the divine • No spot on earth but has supply'd a grave ; And human sciiUs the spacious ocean pave. — Youitg. THE GENERAL KESURRECTION. 339 promise, as the stars of heaven, or as the sand by the sea-shore, innumerable, what numbers can compute the multitudes that have sprung from all the patriarchs, the sons of Adam and Noah ! But what is become of them all l Alas ! they are turned into earth, their ori- ginal element ; they are all imprisoned in the grave, except the present generation, and we are diopping one after another in quick succession into that place appointed for all living. There has not been perhaps a moment of time for five thousand years, but what some one or other has sunk into the mansions of the dead ; and in some fatal hours, by the sword of war or the de- vouring jaws of earthquakes, thousands have been cut off and swept aw^ay at once, and left in one huge promis- cuous carnage. The greatest number of mankind be- yond comparison are sleeping under ground. There lies beauty mouldering into dust, rotting into stench and loathsomeness, and feeding the vilest w^orms. There lies the head that once wore a crown, as low and con- temptible as the meanest beggar. There lie the mighty giants, the heroes and conquerors, the Samsons, the Ajaxes, the Alexanders, and the Caesars of the world ! there they lie stupid, senseless, and inactive, and unable to drive off the worms that riot on their marrow, and make their houses in those sockets where the eyes spar- kled with living lustre. There lie the wise and the learned, as rotten, as helpless as the fool. There lie some that we once conversed with, some that were our friends, our companions ; and there lie our fathers and mothers, our brothers and sisters. And shall they lie there always 1 Shall this body, this curious w^orkmanship of Heaven, so wonderfully and fearfully made, always lie in ruins, and never be repair- ed 1 Shall the wide-extended valleys of dry bones never more live 1 This we know, that it is not a thing impossi- ble with God to raise the dead. He that could first form our bodies out of nothing, is certainly able to form them anew, and repair the wastes of time and death. But what is his declared will in this case 1 On this the mat- ter turns ; and this is fully revealed in my text. " The hour is coming, when all that are in the graves," all that arc dead, without exception, " shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and shall come forth." 340 THE GENERAL 3ESTJBRECTI0N. And for what end shall they come forth 1 0! for very different purposes ; " some to the resurrection of life 5 and some to the resurrection of damnation." And what is the ground of this vast distinction 1 Or what is the difference in character between those that shall receive so different a dooml It is this, "They that 'iave done good shall rise to life, and they that have done evil to damnation." It is this, and this only, that will then be the rule of distinction. I would avoid all art in my method of handling this subject, and intend only to illustrate the several parts of the text. " All that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth ; they that have done well, to the resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil, to the resurrection of damnation." I. They that are in the graves shall hear his voice. The voice of the Son of God here probably means the sound of the archangel's trumpet, which is called his voice, because sounded by his orders and attended with his all-quickening power. This ail-wakening call to the tenants of the grave we frequently find foretold in scrip- ture. I shall refer you to two plain passages. Behold^ says St. Paul, / show you a mystery^ an important and as- tonishing secret, we shall not all sleep ; that is mankind will not all be sleeping in death when that day comes ; there will be a generation then alive upon the earth ; and though they cannot have a proper resurrection, yet they shall pass through a change equivalent to it. " We shall all be changed," says he, " in a moment, in the twink- ling of an eye, at the last trump, for the trumpet shall sound," it shall give the alarm ; and no sooner is the awful clangor heard than all the living shall be trans- formed into immortals ; and the dead shall be raised incoT' ruptible ; and we, who are then alive^ shall be changed, 1 Cor. XV. 51,52; this is all the difference, they shall he raised, and we shall be changed. This awful prelude of the trumpet is also mentioned in 1 Thess. iv. 15, 16. " We which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord, shall not prevent them which are asleep ;" that is, we shall not be beforehand with them in meeting our de- scending Lord, " for the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangels, and with the trump of God ;" that is, with a godlike THE GE^'ERAL Tk-ESURKECTION. 341 trump, such as it becomes his majesty to sound, and the dead in Christ shall rise first : that is, before the hving shall be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air : and when they are risen, and the living- transformed, they shall ascend together to the place of judgment. My brethren, realize the majesty and terror of this universal alarm. When the dead are sleeping in the si- lent grave ; when the living arc thoughtless and unap- prehensive of the grand event, or intent on other pur- suits ; some of them asleep in the dead of night ; some of them dissolved in sensual pleasures, eating and drink- ing, marrying and giving in marriage ; some of them planning or executing schemes for riches or honors ; some in the very act of sin ; the generality stupid and careless about the concerns of eternitj', and the dreadful day just at hand ; and a few here and there conversing with their God, and " looking for the glorious appearance of their Lord and Savior ;^' when the course of nature runs on uniform and regular as usual, and infidel scoffers are taking um.brage from thence to ask, " Where is the pro- mise of his coming \ for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation." 2 Pet. iii. 4. In short, when there are no more visible appearances of this approaching day, than of the destruction of Sodom on that fine clear morning in which Lot fled av/ay ; or of the deluge, when Noah entered into the ark ; then in that hour of unapprehensive security, then suddenly shall the heavens open over the astonished world ; then shall the all-alarming clangor break over their heads like a clap of thunder in a clear sky. Immediately the living turn their gazing eyes upon the amazing phenomenon ; a few hear the long-expected sound with rapture, and lift up their heads with joy, as- sured that the day of their redemption is come^ while the thoughtless world are struck Avith the wildest horror and consternation. In the same instant the sound reaches all the mansions of the dead, and in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, they are raised, and the living are changed. This call will be as animating to all the sons of men, as that call to a single person, Lazarus^ come forth. O what a surprise will this be to a thoughtless world ! Should this alarm burst over our heads this mo- ment, into what a terror would it strike many in this as- 29* 342 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. sembly 1 Such will be the terror, such the consterna- tion, when it actually conies to pass. Sinners will be the same timorous, self-condemned creatures then, as they are now. And then they will not be able to stop their ears, who are deaf to all the gentler calls of the gospel now. Then the trump of God will constrain them to hear and fear, to whom the ministers of Christ now preach in vain. Then they must all hear, for, II. My text tells you, all that are in the graves, all without exception, shall hear his voice. Now the voice of mercy calls, reason pleads, conscience warns, but mul- titudes will not hear. But this is a voice which shall, which must reach every one of the millions of mankind, and not one of them will be able to stop his ears. Infants and giants, kings and subjects, all ranks, all ages of mankind shall hear the call. The living shall start and be changed, and the dead rise at the sound. The dust that was once alive and formed a human body, whether it flies in the air, floats in the ocean, or vegetates on earth, shall hear the new-creating fiat. Wherever the fragments of the human frame are scattered, this all-pe- netrating call shall reach and speak them into life. We may consider this voice as a summons not only to dead bodies to rise, but to the souls that once animated them, to appear and be re-united to them, whether in heaven or hell. To the grave, the call will be. Arise, ye dead, and come to judgmeiit ; to heaven, ye spirits of just men made perfect ; " descend to the world whence you origin- ally came ; and assume your new-formed bodies :" to hell, " Come forth and appear, ye damned ghosts, ye pri- soners of darkness, and be again united to the bodies in which you once sinned, that in them ye may now suffer." Thus will this summons spread through every corner of the universe ; and heaven, earth and hell, and all their inhabitants, shall hear and obey. Devils, as well as sin- ners of our race, will tremble at the sound ; for now they know they can plead no more as they once did, Torment us not before the time ; for the time is come, and they must mingle with the prisoners at the bar. And now when all that arc in the graves hear this all-quick- ening voice, III. They shall come forth. Now methinks I see, I hear the earth heaving, charnel-houses rattling, tombs burst- THE GENERAL HESURRECTIO.V, 343 ing, graves opening. Now the nations under ground be- gin to stir. There is a noise and a shaking among the dry bones. The dust is all alive, and in motion, and the globe breaks and trembles, as with an earthquake, while this vast army is working its way through and bursting into life. The ruins of human bodies are scattered far and wide, and have passed through many and surprising transformations. A limb in one country, and another in another ; here the head and there the trunk, and the ocean rolling between.* Multitudes have sunk in a watery grave, been swallowed up by the monsters of the deep, and transformed into a part of their flesh. Multi- tudes have been eaten by beasts and birds of prey, and incorporated with them ; and some have been devoured by their fellow-men in the rage of a desperate hunger, or of unnatural cannibal appetite, and digested into a part of them. Multitudes have mouldered into dust, and this dust has been blown about by winds, and washed away with water, or it has petrified into stone, or been burnt into brick to form dwellings for their posterity ; or it has grown up in grain, trees, plants, and other vegeta- bles, which are the support of man and beast, and are transformed into their flesh and bl-ood. But through all these various transformations and changes, not a particle that was essential to one human body has been lost, or incorporated with another human body, so as to become an essential part of it. And as to those particles that were not essential, they are not necessary to the identity of the body or of the person ; and therefore we need not think they will be raised again. The omniscient God knows how to collect, distinguish, and compound all those scattered and mingled seeds of our mortal bo- dies. And now at the sound of the trumpet, they shall all be collected, wherever they were scattered ; all pro- perly sorted and united, however they were confused ; atom to its fellow-atom, bone to its fellow-bone. Now methinks you may see the air darkened with fragments of bodies flying from country to country, to meet and join their proper parts : * This was the Aite of Pompey, who was slain on the African shore. His bodj' was left there, and his head carried over the Mediterranean to Julius Caesar, 344 THE GENERAL RESURKECTION. -" Scalter'd limbs, and all The various bones obsequious to the call, Self-mov'd, advance ; the neck perhaps to meet The distant head, the distant legs, the feet. Dreadlul to view, see through tiie dusky sky Fragments of bodies in confusion fly, To distant regions journeying, there to claim Deserted members, and complete the frame — The sever'd head and trunk shall join once more, Tho' realms now rise between, and oceans roar. The trumpet's sound each vagrant mote shall hear, Or fixt in earth, or if afloat in air, Obey the signal, wafled in the wind, And not one sleeping atom lag behind." — * All hear : and now, in fairer prospect shown, Limb clings to limb, and botre rejoins its bone.'' — f Then, my brethren, your dust and mine shall be rean- imated and organized ; " and though after our skin worms destroy these bodies, yet in our flesh shall we see God." Job xix. 16. And what a vast improvement will the frail nature of man then receive 1 Our bodies will then be substantially the same ; but how different in qualities, in strength, in agility, in capacities for pleasure or pain, in beauty or deformity, in glory or terror, according to the moral * Young's Last Day, Book IL t Th<'se two last lines are taken from a poem, which is a lively imita- tion of Dr. Young, entitled, The Bay of Judgment, ascribed to Mr. Ogil- vie, a promising young genius of Aberdeen, in Scotland, not above nine teen years of age, as I was informed, when he composed this poem, Th« lines preceding these quoted are as follows : O'er boiling waves the severed members swim, Each breeze is loaded with a broken limb : The living atoms, with peculiar care. Drawn from their cells, come flying thro' the air. Where'er they lurk'd, thro' ages undecay'd, Deep in the rock, or cloth'd some smiling mead ; Or in the lily's snowy bosom grew, Or ting'd the sapphire with its lovely blue ; Or in some purlmg stream refresh'd the plains ; Or form'd the mountain's adamantine veins ; Or gaily s Perfu ' " pily sporting in the breathing spring, um'd tne whisp'ring zephyr's balmy wing- The thought seems to be borrowed from Mr. Addison's fine Latin poem on the resurrection, in which are the following beautiful lines: Jam pulvis varias terrae dispersa per oras, Sive mter venas teneri concieta metalli, Sensinri diriguit, seu scse immiscuil herbis, Explicita est ; molem rursus coalescit in unam Divisum Funus, sparsos prior alligat artus Junctura, apta-iti'.rqur' ; ilrrum coenntia membra. THE GENERAL RESUKRECTION. 345 character of the persons to whom tliey belong 1 Matter, we know, is capable of prodigious alterations and refine- ments ; and there it will appear in the highest perfec- tion. The bodies of the saints will be formed glorious, incorruptible, without the seeds of sickness and death. The glorified body of Christ, which is undoubtedly carried to the highest perfection that matter is capable of, will be the pattern after which they shall be formed. He will change our vile lody^ says St. Paul, that it may be fashion- ed like unto his glorious body. Phil. iii. 21. " Flesh and blood," in their present state of grossness and frailty, " cannot inherit the kingdom of God : neither doth cor- ruption inherit incorruption. But this corruptible body must put on incorruption ; and this mortal must put or immortality." Cor. xv. 50, 53. And how vast the change, how high the improvement from this present state! " It was sown in corruption, it shall be raised in incorruption ; it was sown in dishonor, it shall be raised in glory ; it was sown in weakness, it shall be raised in power," verses 42, 43, &;c. Then will the body be able to bear up under the exceeding great and eternal weight of glory ; it will no longer be a clog or an incumbrance to the soul, but a proper instrument and assistant in all the exalted services and enjoyments of the heavenly state. The bodies of the wicked will also be improved, but their improvements will all be terrible and vindictive. Their capacities will be thoroughly enlarged, but then it will be that they may be made capable of greater mise- ry : they will be strengthened, but it will be that they may bear the heavier load of torment. Their sensations will be more quick and strong, but it will be that they may feel the more exquisite pain. They will be raised immortal that they may not be consumed by everlasting fire, or escape punishment by dissolution or annihilation. Iq short, their augmented strength, their enlarged capa- cities, and their immortality, will be their eternal curse ; and they would willingly exchange them for the fleeting duration of a fading flower, or the faint sensations of an infant. The only power they would rejoice in is that of self-annihilation. And now when the bodies are completely formed and fit to be inhabited, the souls that once animated them, 346 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. being collected from Heaven and Hell, re-enter and take possession of their old mansions. They are united in bonds which shall never more be dissolved : and the mouldering tabernacles are now become everlasting hab- itations.. And with what joy will the spirits of the righteous welcome their old companions from their long sleep in the dust, and congratulate their glorious resurrection ! How will they rejoice to re-enter their old habitations, now so completely repaired and highly improved! to find those bodies which were once their incumbrance, onc-e frail and mortal, in which they were imprisoned, and languished, once their temptation, tainted with the seeds of sin, now their assistants and co-partners in the business of heaven, now vigorous, incorruptible, and im- mortal, now free from all corrupt mixtures, and shining in all the beauties of perfect holiness 1 In these bodies they once served their God with honest though feeble efforts, conflicted with sin and temptation, and passed through all the united trials and hardships of mortality and the Christian life. But now they are united to them for more exalted and blissful purposes. The lungs that were wont to heave with penitential sighs and groans^ shall now shout forth their joys and the praises of their God and Savior. The heart that was once broken with sorrows shall now be bound up for ever, and overflow with immortal pleasures. Those very eyes that were wont to run down with tears, and to behold many a tra- gical sight, shall now behold the King in his beauty^ shall behold the Savior whom, though unseen, they loved, and all the glories of heaven ; and God shall wipe away all their tears. All the senses, which were once avenues of pain, shall now be inlets of the most exalted pleasure In short, every organ, every member shall be employed in the most noble services and enjoyments, instead of the sordid and laborious drudgery, and the painful suffer- ings of the present state. Blessed change indeed ! Re- joice, ye cliildren of God, in the prospect" of it. But how shall I glance a thought upon the dreadful case of the wicked in that tremendous day ! While their bodies burst from their graves, the miserable spectacles of horror and deformity, see the millions of ffloomy ghosts that once animated them, rise like pillars of THE GENERi\L RESUKRECTION. 347 smoke from the bottomless pit ! and with what reluc tance and anguish do they re-enter their old habitations ! 0 what a dreadful meeting ! What shocking salutations ! " And must I be chained to thee again, (may the guilty soul say) O thou accursed, polluted body, thou system of deformity and terror ! In thee I once sinned, by thee 1 was once ensnared, debased, and ruined : to gratify thy vile lusts and appetites I neglected my own immortal in- terests, degraded my native dignity, and made myself miserable for ever. And hast thou now met me to tor- ment me for ever 1 O that thou hadst still slept in the dust, and never been repaired again ! Let me rather be condemned to animate a toad or serpent than that odious body once defiled with sin, and the instrument of my guilty pleasures, now made strong and immortal to tor- ment me with strong and immortal pains. Once indeed 1 received sensations of pleasure from thee, but now thou art transformed into an engine of torture. No more shall I through thine eyes behold the cheerful light of the day, and the beautiful prospects of nature, but the thick glooms of hell, grim and ghastly ghosts, heaven at an impassable distance, and all the horrid sights of wo in the infernal regions. No more shall thine ears charm me with the harmony of sounds, but terrify and distress me with the echo of eternal groans, and the thunder of almighty vengeance ! No more shall the gratification of thine appetites afford me pleasure, but thine appe- tites, for ever hungry, for ever unsatisfied, shall eternally torment me with their eager importunate cravings. No more shall thy tongue be employed in mirth, and jest, and song, but complain, and groan, and blaspheme, and roar for ever. Thy feet, that once walked in the flowery enchanted path^ f r" sin, must now walk on the dismal burning soil of heil. O my wretched companion! I parted with thee with pain and reluctance in the strug- gles of death, but now I meet thee with greater terror and agony. Return to thy bed in the dust ; there to sleep and rot, and let me never see thy shocking visage more." In vain the petition ! the reluctant soul must enter its prison, from whence it shall never more be dis- missed. And if we might indulge imagination so far, we might suppose the body begins to recriminate in such language as this : " Come, guilty soul, enter thy old 348 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. mansion j if it be horrible and shocking, it is owing to thyself. Was not the animal frame, the brutal nature, subjected to thy government, who art a rational princi- ple 1 instead of being debased by me, it became thee to have not only retained the dignity of thy nature, but to have exalted mine, by nobler employments and gratifica- tions worthy an earthly body united to an immortal spirit. Thou mightest have restrained my members from being the instruments of sin, and made them the in- struments of righteousness. My knees would have bowed at the throne of grace, but thou didst not affect that posture. Mine eyes would have read, and mine ears heard the word of life ; but thou wouldest not set them to that employ, or wouldest not attend to it. And now it is but just the body thou didst prostitute to sin should be the instrument of thy punishment. Indeed, fain would I relapse into senseless earth as I was, and continue in that insensibility for ever : — but didst thou not hear the all-rousing trumpet just nowl did it not even shake the foundations of thy infernal prison 1 It was that call that awakened me, and summoned me to meet thee, and I could not resist it. Therefore, come, miserable soul, take possession of this frame, and let us prepare for everlasting burning. O that it were now possible to die ! 0 that we could be again sepa- rated, and never be united more ! Vain v/ish ; the weight of mountains, the pangs of hell, the flames of un- quenchable fire, can never dissolve these chains which now bind us together !"* O ! Sirs, what a shocking interview is this ! 0 the • The Rev. Mr. John Reynolds, in his poem entitled Death's Vision^ introduces the soul speaking against the body, and afterwards checking its censures, ajid turning them upon itself, in a vein of thought not unliko that of Mi Davies. Go, tempter, go, as thou hast been A quick extinguisher of heav'nly fires i A source of black enormity and sin, Thou cramp of sacred motions and desires ! How brave and bless'd am I, Unfetter'd from the company, Thou enemy of my joys and me ? But pardon that I thus Unconsciously accuse ! How much more cruel have I been to thee I *"Twas cruel that I oblig'd thee to obey, The wilful dictates of my guilty sway." THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 349 glorious, dreadful morning of the resurrection ! What scenes of unknown joy and terror will then open ! Me- thinks we must always have it in prospect ; it must even now engage our thoughts, and fill us with tremblinfr solicitude, and make it the great object of our labor and pursuit to share in the resurrection of the just. But for what ends do these sleeping multitudes rise 1 For what purposes do they come forth 1 My text will tell you. IV. They shall come forth, " some to the resurrection of life, and some to the resurrection of damnation." They are summoned from their graves to stand at the bar, and brought out of prison by angelic guards to pass their last trial. And as in this impartial trial they will be found to be persons of very different characters, the righteous Judge of the earth will accordingly pronounce their different doom. See a glorious multitude, which none can number, openly acquitted, pronounced blessed, and w'elcomed " into the kingdom prepared for them from the founda- tion of the world." Now they enter upon a state which deserves the name of life. They are all vital, all active, all glorious, all happy. They " shine brighter than the stars in the firmament ; like the sun for ever and ever." All their faculties overflow with happiness. They min- gle with the glorious company of angels ; they behold that Savior whom unseen they loved ; they dwell in eter- nal intimacy with the Father of their spirits ; they are employed with ever-nev/ and growing delight in the ex- alted services of the heavenly sanctuary. They shall never more fear, nor feel the least touch of sorrow, pain, or any kind of misery, but shall be as happy as their natures can admit through an immortal duration. What a glorious new creation is here ! what illustrious creatures formed of the dust ! And shall any of us join in this happy company 1 0 shall any of us, feeble, dying, sinful creatures, share in their glory and happiness \ This is a most interesting inquiry, and I would have you think of it with trembling anxiety ; and I shall presently answer it in its place. The prospect would be delightful, if our charity could hope that this will be the happy end of all the sons of men. But, alas ! multitudes, and we \ ave reason to fear 30 350 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. the far greater number, shall come forth, not to the resur- rection of life, but to the resurrection of damnation ! what terror is in the sound ! If audacious sinners in our world make light of it, and pray for it on every trifling occasion, their infernal brethren, that feel its tremendous import, are not so hardy, but tremble and groan, and can trifle with it no more. Let us realize the miserable doom of this class of man- kind. See them bursting into life from their subterra- nean dungeons, hideous shapes of deformity and terror, expressive of the vindictive design for which their bodies are repaired, and of the boisterous and malignant pas- sions that ravage their souls. Horror throbs through every vein, and glares wild and furious in their eyes. Every joint trembles, and every countenance looks downcast and gloomy. Now they see that tremendous day of which they were warned in vain, and shudder at those terrors of which they once made light. They im- mediately know the grand business of the day, and the dreadful purpose for which they are roused from their slumbers in the grave 5 to be tried, to be convicted, to be condemned, and to be dragged away to execution. Conscience has been anticipating the trial in a separate state ; and no sooner is the soul united to the body, than immediately conscience ascends its throne in the breast, and begins to accuse, to convict, to pass sentence, to upbraid, and to torment. The sinner is condemned, con- demned at his own tribunal, before he arrives at the bar of his Judge. The first act of consciousness in his new state of existence is a conviction that he is condemned, an irrevocably condemned creature. He enters the court, knowing beforehand how it will go with him. When he finds himself ordered to the left hand of his Judge, when he hears the dreadful sentence thundered out against him, depart from me^ accursed^ it was but what he expected. Now he can flatter himself with vain hopes, and shut his eyes against the light of conviction, but then he will not be able to hope better ; then he must know the worst of his case. The formality of the judi- cial trial is necessary for the conviction of the world, but not for his ; his own conscience has already deter- mined his condition. However, to convince others of the justice of his doom, he is dragged and guarded from THE (lEKERAL RESURRECTION. 351 his grave to the judgment-seat by fierce, unrelenting devils, now his tempters, but then his tormentors. With what horror does he view the burning throne and the frowning face of his Judge, that Jesus whom he once dis- regarded, in spite of all his dying love and the salvation he offered! How does he wish for a covering of rocks and mountains to conceal him from his angry eye ! but all in vain. Appear he must. He is ordered to the left among the trembling criminals ; and now the trial comes on. All his evil deeds, and all his omissions of duty, are now produced against him. All the mercies he abused, all the chastisements he despised, all the means of grace he neglected or misimproved, every sinful, and even every idle word, nay his most secret thoughts and dispo- sitions, are all exposed, and brought into judgment against him. And when the Judge puts it to him, "Is it not so, sinner 1 Are not these charges true V con- science obliges him to confess and cry out, Guilty I guilty! And now the trembling criminal being plainly convicted, and left without all plea and all excuse, the supreme Judge, in stern majesty and inexorable justice, thunders out the dreadful sentence, " Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." Matt. xxv. 41. 0 tremendous doom ! every word is big with terror, and shoots a thunderbolt through the heart. " Depart : away from my presence ; I cannot bear so loathsome a sight. I once invited thee to come to me, that thou mightest have life, but thou wouldst not regard the invitation ; and now thou shalt never hear that inviting voice more. Depart from me j from me, the only Fountain of happiness, the only pro- per Good for an immortal mind." " But, Lord," (we may suppose the criminal to say) " if I must depart, bless me before I go." " No," says the angry Judge, " depart accursed ; depart with my eternal and heavy curse upon thee ; the curse of that power that made thee ; a curse dreadfully eflicacious, that blasts whatever it falls upon like flashes of consuming, irresistible lightning." " But if I must go away under thy curse, (the criminal may be supposed to say) let that be all my punishment ; let me depart to some agreeable, or at least tolerable recess, where I may meet with something to mitigate the curse." " No, depart into fire ; there burn in all the excruciating ^52 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. tortures of that outrageous element." " But, Lord, if 1 must make my bed in lire, O let it be a transient blaze, that will soon burn itself out, and put an end to my torment." *' No, depart into everlasting fire ; there burn without consuming, and be tormented without end." " But, Lord, grant me (cries the poor wretch) at least the mitigation of friendly, entertaining, and sympathising company ; or, if this cannot be granted, grant me this small, this almost no request, to be doomed to some solitary corner in hell, where I shall be punished only by my o-wn conscience and thine immediate hand ; but O deliver me from these malicious, tormenting devils; banish me into some apart- ment in the infernal pit far from their society." " No, depart into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels : thou must make one of their wretched crew for ever : thou didst join with them in sinning, and now must share in their punishment : thou didst submit to them as thy tempters, and now thou must submit to them as thy tormentors." Sentence being pronounced, it is immediately execut- ed. These shall go away into everlastuig 'punishment. Matt. XXV. 46. Devils drag them away to the pit, and push them down headlong. There they are con^ned in chains of darkness, and in a lake burning w^ith fire and brimstone, for ever, for ever ! In that dreadful word lies the emphasis of torment : it is a hell in helL If they might be but released from pain, though it were by anni- hilation after they have wept away ten thousand millions of ages in extremity of pain, it would be some mitiga- tion, some encouragement; but, alas! when as many millions of ages are passed as the stars of heaven, or the sands on the sea-shore, or the atoms of dust in this huge globe of earth, their punishment is as far from an end as when the sentence was pronounced upon them. For ever ! there is no exhausting of that word ; and when it is affixed to the highest degree of misery, the terror of the sound is utterly insupportable. See, sirs, what de- pends upon time, that span of time we may enjoy in this fleeting life. Eternity ! awful, all-important eternity, de- pends upon it. All this while conscience tears the sinner's heart with the most tormenting reflections. " 0 w^hat a fair oppor- tunity I once had for salvation, had I improved it ! I was THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. S53 warned of the consequences of a life of sin and careless- ness : I was told of the necessity of faith, repentance, and universal holiness of heart and life ; I enjoyed a suf- ficient space for repentance, and all the necessary means of salvation, but, fool that I was, I neglected all, I abused all ; I refused to part with my sins ; 1 refused to engage seriously in religion, and to seek God in earnest ; and now I am lost forever, without hope. O ! for one of those months, one of those weeks, or even so much as one of those days or hours I once trifled away 5 with what earnestness, wit'h what solicitude would I improve it ! But all my opportunities are past, beyond recovery, and not a moment shall be given me for this purpose any more. O what a fool was I to sell my soul for such tri- fles ! to set so light by heaven, and fall into hell through mere neglect and carelessness ! Ye impenitent, unthink- ing sinners, though you may now be able to silence or drown the clamors of your consciences, yet the time, or rather the dread eternity is coming, when they will speak in spite of you ; when they will speak home, and be felt by the most hardened and remorseless heart. Therefore now regard their warnings while they may be the means of your recovery. You and I, my brethren, are concerned in the solemn transaction of the day I have been describing. You and I shall either be changed in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, or while mouldering " in the grave, we shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and come forth, either to the resurrection of life, or to the resurrection of dam- nation." And which, my brethren, shall be our doom 1 Can we foreknow it at this distance of time 1 I proposed it to your inquiry already, whether you have any good reason to hope you shall be of that happy number who shall rise to life 1 and now I propose it again, with this counterpart. Have you any evidences to hope you shall not be of that wretched numerous multitude who shall rise to damnation 1 If there be an inquiry within the compass of human knowledge that demands your solicit- ous thoughts, certainly it is this. Methinks you cannot enjoy one moment's ease or security while this is unde- termined. And is it an answerable inquiry l Can we now know what are the present distinguishing charac- 30* 354 THE GETsERAL RESURRECTION. ters of those who shall then receive so different a doom 1 Yes, my text determines the point ; for, V. " They that have done good shall come forth to the resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil, to the resurrection of damnation." These are the grounds of the distinction that shall then be made in the final states of men, doing good and doing evil. And certainly this distinction is perceivable now; to do good and to do evil are not so much alike as that it should be impos- sible to distinguish between them. Let us then see what is implied in these characters, and to whom of us they respectively belong. 1. What is it to do good ? This implies, (1.) An honest endeavor to keep all God's commandments ; I say, all his commandments, with regard to God, our neighbor, and ourselves, whether easy or difficult, whether fashion- able or not, whether agreeable to our natural constitu- tion or not, whether enjoining the performance of duty or forbidding the commission of sin, whether regarding the heart or the outward practice. I say, an uniform, im- partial regard to all God's commandments, of whatever kind, in all circumstances, and at all times, is implied in doing good ; for if we do any thing because God com- mands it, we will endeavor to do every thing that he commands, because Avhere the reason of our conduct is the same, our conduct itself will be the same. I do not mean that good men, in the present state, perfectly keep the commandments of God in every thing, or indeed in any thing ; but I mean that universal obedience is their honest endeavor. Their character is in some measure uniform and all of a piece ; that is, they do not place all their religion in obedience to some commands which may be agreeable to them, as though that would make atonement for their neglect of others ; but, like David, they are for having a respect, and indeed have a respect to all God's commandments : Psal. cxix. 6. My brethren, try yourselves by this test. (2.) To do good in an acceptable manner pre-supposes a change of nature and a new principle. Our nature is so corrupted that nothing really and formally good can be performed by us till it be renewed. To confirm this I shall only refer you to Eph. ii. 10, and Ezek. xxxvi. 26, 27, wliere being created in Christ Jesus to good works, THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. 355 and receiving a new heart of flesh, are mentioned as pre^ requisites to our walking in God's statutes. As for the principle of obedience, it is the love of God : 1 John v. 3 that is, we must obey God, because we love him ; we must do good, because we delight to do good 5 other- wise it is all hypocrisy, constraint, or seltishness, and cannot be acceptable to God. Here, again, my brethren, took into your hearts, and examine what is the principle of your obedience, and whether ever you have been made new creatures. (3.) I must add, especially as we live under the gospel, that your dependence for life must not be upon the good you do, but entirely upon the righteousness of Jesus Christ. After you have done all, you must acknowledge you are but unprofitable servants ; and renounce all your works in point of merit, while you abound in them in point of practice : Phil. iii. 7, 8. This is an essential characteristic of evangelical obedience, and without it you cannot expect to have a resurrection to eternal life and blessedness. I might enlarge upon this head, but time will not per- mit ; and I hope these three characters may sullice to show you what is implied in doing good. Let us now proceed to the opposite character. 2. What is it to do evil \ This implies such things as these 5 the habitual neglect of well- doing, or the per- formance of duties in a languid, formal manner, or Vv'ith- out a right principle, and the wilful indulgence of any one sin : the secret love of sin, though not suffered to break forth into the outv/ard practice. Here it is evident at first sight that profane sinners, drunkards, swearers, defrauders, avowed neglecters of religion, &c. have this dismal brand upon them, that they are such as do evil. Nay, all such who are in their natural state, without re- generation, whatever their outside be, must be ranked in this class ; " for that which is born of the flesh is flesh," John iii. 6 ; " and they that are in the flesh cannot please God, nor be rightly subject to his law." Rom. viii. 7, 8. And now who is for life, and who for damnation among you 1 These characters are intended to make the dis- tinction among you, and I pray you apply them for that purpose. As for such of you, who, amidst all your lamented in- S66 THE GENERAL RESURRECTION. firmities, are endeavoring honestly to do good, and griev ed at heart that you can do no more, you also must die , you must die, and feed the worms in the dust. But you shall rise gloriously improved, rise to an immortal life, and in all the terrors and consternation of that last day, you will be secure, serene, and undisturbed. The almigh- ty Judge will be your friend, and that is enough. Let this thought disarm the king of terrors, and give you courage to look down into the grave, and forward to the great rising day. 0 what a happy immortality opens its glorious prospects beyond the ken of sight before you ! and after a few struggles more in this state of warfare, and resting awhile in the bed of death, at the regions of eternal blessedness you will arrive, and take up your re- sidence there for ever. But are there not some here who are conscious that these favorable characters do not belong to them l that know that well-doing is not the business of their life, but that they are workers of iniquity % I tell you plain- ly, and with all the authority the word of God can give, that if you continue such, you shall rise to damnation. That undoubtedly will be your doom, unless you are greatly changed and reformed in heart and life. And will this be no excitement to vigorous endeavors'! Are you proof against the energy of such a consideration 1 Ye careless sinners, awake out of your security, and pre- pare for death and judgment ! this fleeting life is all the time you have for preparation, and can you trifle it away 1 Your all, your eternal all is set upon the single cast of life, and you must stand the hazard of the die. You can make but one experiment, and if that fail, through your sloth or mismanagement, you are irrecoverably undone for ever. Therefore, by the dread authority of the great God, by the terrors of death, and the great rising day, by the joys of heaven, and the torments of hell, and by the value of your immortal souls, I intreat, I charge, I adjure you to awake out of your security, and improve the precious moments of life. The world is dying all around you. And can you rest easy in such a world, while unprepared for eternity 1 Awake to righteousness now, at the gentle call of the gospel, before the last trumpet give you an alarm of another kind. THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 357 SERMON XX. THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT Acts xvu. 30, 31. — ^nd the times of this ignorance God winked it ; hut now covimandeth all men everywhere to repent^ because he hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that Man whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men^ in that he hath raised him from the dead. The present state is the infancy of human nature \ and all the events of time, even those that make such noise, and determine the fate of kingdoms, are but the little af- fairs of children. But if we look forwards and trace hu- man nature to maturity, we meet with events vast, in- teresting, and majestic ; and such as nothing but divine authority can render credible to us who are so apt tc judge of things by what we see. To one of those scenes I would direct your attention this day ; I mean the so- lemn, tremendous, and glorious scene of the universal judgment. You have sometimes seen a stately building in ruins ; come now and view the ruins of a demolished world. You have often seen a feeble mortal struggling in the agonies of death, and his shattered frame dissolved ; come now and view universal nature severely laboring and agonizing in her last convulsions, and her well com- pacted system dissolved. You have heard of earthquakes here and there that have laid Lisbon, Palermo, and a few other cities in ruins; come now and feel the tremoisand convulsions of the whole globe, that blend cities and countries, oceans and continents, mountains, plains, and vallies, in one promiscuous heap. You have a thousand times beheld the moon wallcing in brightness, and the sun shining in his strength ; now look and see the sun turned into darkness, and the moon into blood. It is our lot to live in an age of confusion, blood, and slaughter ; an age in which our attention is engaged by the clash of arms, the clangor of trumpets, the roar of artillery, and the dubious fate of kingdoms ; but draw off your thoughts from these objects for an hour, and S58 THE U.MVEIlS;iL JUDGMENT. fix tlicm on objects more solemn and interesting: come view " A scene that yields A louder trunipetj and more dreadful fields ; The World alarm'd, both Earth and Heaven o'erthrown, And gasping nature's last tremendous groan ; Death's ancient sceptre broke, the teeming Tomb, The Righteous Judge, and man's eternal Doom." Such a scene there certainly is before us ; for St. Paul tells us that "God hath given assurance to all men that he will judge the world in righteousness by. that man whom he hath ordained ;". and that his resurrection, the resurrection of him who is God and man, is a demonstra- tive proof of it. My text is the conclusion of St. Paul's defence or ser- mon before the famous court of Areopagus, in the learn- ed and philosophical city of Athens. In this august and polite assembly he speaks with the boldness, and in the evangelical strain, of an apostle of Christ. He first in- culcates upon them the great truths of natural religion, and labors faithfully, though in a very gentle and inof- fensive manner, to reform them from that stupid idolatry and superstition into which even this learned and philo- sophical city was sunk, though a Socrates, a Ploto, and the most celebrated sages and moralists of pagan antiqui- ty had lived and taught in it. Afterwards, in the close of his discourse, he introduces the glorious peculiarities of Christianity, particularly the great duty of repentance, from evangelical motives, the resurrection of the dead, and the final judgment. But no sooner has he entered upon this subject than he is interrupted, and seems to have broken off abruptly ; for when he had just hinted at the then unpopular doctrine of the resurrection o{ the dead, we are told, some mocked^ and others put it off to another hearing : We will hear thee agai?i of this matter. In these dark times of ignorance which preceded the publication of the gospel, God seemed to wink or con- nive at the idolatry and various forms of wickedness that had overspread the world j that is he seemed to over- look* or to take no notice of them, so as either to pun- ish them, or to give the nations explicit calls to repent- * vneptS(ov. THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 359 ance. But now, says St. Paul, the case is altered. Now the gospel is published through the world, and therefore God will no longer seem to connive at the wickedness and impenitence of mankind, but publishes his great mandate to a rebel world, explicitly and loudly, command- ing all men every where to rcj)ent ; and he now gives them particular motives and encouragements to this duty. One motive of the greatest wcigiit, which was never so clearly or extensively published before, is the doc- trine of the universal judgment. This the connection implies : " He now commandeth all men to repent, be- cause he hath appointed a day for judging all men." And surely the prospect of a judgment must be a strong motive to sinners to repent: — this, if anything, will rouse them from their thoughtless security, and bring them to repentance. Repentance should, and one would think must, be as extensive as this reason for it. This St. Paul intimates. " He now commandeth all men to repent, be- cause he hath given assurance to all men" that he has " appointed a day to judge the world." Wherever the gospel publishes the doctrine of future judgment, there it requires all men to repent ; and wherever it requires repentance, there it enforces the command of this alarm- ing doctrine. God has given assurajice to all men ; that is, to all that hear the gospel, that he has appointed a day for this great purpose, and that Jesus Christ, God-man, is to pre- side in person in this majestic solemnity. He has given assurance of this ; that is, sufficient ground of faith ; and the assurance consists in this, that he hath raised him from the dead. The resurrection of Christ gives assurance of this in several respects. It is a specimen and a pledge of a gen- eral resurrection, that grand preparative for the judg- ment : it is an incontestible proof of his divine mission ; for God will never work so unprecedented a miracle in favor of an impostor : it is also an authentic attestation of all our Lord's claims ; and he expressly claimed tho authority of supreme Judge as delegated to him by ihe Father; " the Father judgeth no man, but hath commit- ted all judgment to the Son." John v. 22. There is a peculiar fitness and propriety in this consti- tution. It is fit that a world placed under the adminia 360 THE UNIVEKSAL JUDGMENT. tration of a Mediator should have a mediatorial Judge It is fit this high office should be conferred upon him as an honorary reward for his important services and ex- treme abasement. " Because he humbled himself, there- fore God hath highly exahed him." Phil. ii. 8, 9. It is fit that creatures clothed with bodies should be judged by a man clothed in a body like themselves. Hence it is said that " all judgment is given to the Son, because he is the Son of man." John v. 27. This would seem a strange reason, did we not understand it in this light. Indeed, was Jesus Christ man only, he would be infinite- ly^ unequal to the office of universal Judge ; but he is God and man, Immanuel^ God with us ; and is the fittest per- son in the universe for the work. It is also fit that Christ should be the supreme Judge, as it will be a great en- couragement to his people for their Mediator to execute this office : and it may be added, that hereby the con- demnation of the wicked will be rendered more conspic- uously just ; for, if a Mediator, a Savior, the Friend of sinners, condemns them, they must be worthy of con- demnation indeed. Let us now enter upon the majestic scene. But alas ! what images shall I use to represent it 1 Nothing that we have seen, nothing that we have heard, nothing that has ever happened on the stage of time, can furnish us with proper illustrations. All is low and grovelling, all is faint and obscure that ever the sun shone upon, when compared with the grand phenomena of that day ; and we are so accustomed to low and little objects, that it is impossible we should ever raise our thoughts to a suit- able pitch of elevation. Ere long we shall be amazed spectators of these majestic wonders, and our eyes and our ears will be our instructers. But now it is necessary we should have such ideas of them as may affect our hearts, and prepare us for them. Let us there- fore present to our view those representations which di- vine revelation, our only guide in this case, gives us of the person of the Judge, and the manner of his appearance ; of the resurrection of the dead, and the transformation of the living ; of the universal convention of all the sons of men before the supreme tribunal ; of their separation to the right and left hand of the Judge, according to their characters j of the judicial process itself j of the decisive THE UxMVEKSv^L JUDGMENT. 361 sentence ; of its execution, and of the conflagration of the world. As to the person of the Judge, the psalmist tells you, God is Judge himself. Psalm 1. 6. Yet Christ tells us, " the Father judgeth no man, but hath committed all judgment to the Son ; and that he hath given him au- thority to execute judgment, because he is the Son of man." John v. 22, 27. It is therefore Christ Jesus, God man, as I observed, who shall sustain this high charac- ter ; and for the reasons already alleged, it is most fit it should be devolved upon him. Being God and man, all the advantages of divinity and humanity centre in him, and render him more fit for this office than if he were God only, or man only. This is the august Judge before whom we must stand ; and the prospect may inspire us with reverence, joy and terror. As for the manner of his appearance, it will be such as becomes the dignity of his person and office. He will shine in all the uncreated glories of the Godhead, and in all the gentler glories of a perfect man. His nU4;ndants will add a dignity to the grand appearance, ana the sym- pathy of nature will increase the solemnity and terror of the day. Let his own word describe him. "The Son of man shall come in his glory, and in the glory of his Father, and all the holy angels with him ; and then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory." Matt. xxv. 31 : xvi. 27. " The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with his mighty angels in flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gos- pel of our Lord Jesus Christ." 2 Thess. i. 7, 8. And not only will the angels, those illustrious ministers of the court of heaven, attend upon that solemn occasion, but also all the saints who had left the world from Adam to that day j for those that sleep in Jesus^ says St. Paul, will God bring with him. 1 Thess. iv. 14. The grand imagerj*- in Daniel's vision is applicable to this day : and perhaps to this it primarily refers : " I beheld till the thrones were cast down," or rather set up,* " and the Ancient of days did sit, whose garment was white as snow, and the hair of * This sense is more agreeable to the connection, and the original word will bear it ; which signifies to pitch down or place, as well as to throw down or demolish. And the LXX translate it, the thrones were put uj>, or fixed, SI 362 THK U>.1VEKSAL JUDGMENT. his head like the pure wool. His throne was like the fiery flame, and his wheels as burning fire. A fiery- stream issued, and came forth from before him : thou- sands thousands ministered unto him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him," Dan. vii. 9, 10. Perhaps our Lord may exhibit himself to the whole worjd upon this most grand occasion, in the same glorious form in which he was seen by his favorite John, " cloth- ed with a garment down to the foot, and girt about the breasts with a golden girdle : his head and his hairs white like wool, as white as snow ; his eyes as a flame of fire : his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace : his voice as the sound of many waters, and his countenance as the sun shining in his strength." Rev. i. 13, &c. Another image of inimitable majesty and terror the same writer gives us, when he says, " I saw a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from whoso face the earth and the heaven fled aAvay, and there w^as found no place for them." Astonishing! what an image is this ! the stable earth and heaven cannot bear the majesty and terror of his look : they fly away aflright- ed, and seek a place to hide themselves, but no place is found to shelter them ; every region through the im- mensity of space lies open before him.* Rev. xx. 11. This is the Judge before whom we must stand ; and this is the manner of his appearance. But is this the babe of Bethlehem that lay and wept in the manger 1 Is this the supposed son of the carpenter, the despised Ga- lilean l Is this the man of sorrows 1 Is this ho that • This is the picture drawni by the pencil of inspiration. We may now contemplate the imagery of a fine human pen. -From his great abode Full on a whirlwind rides the dreadful God : The tempest's rattling winds, the fiery car, Ten thousand hosts his ministers of war, The flaining Cherubim, attend his flight, And heaven's foundations groan beneath the weight Thro' all the skies the forky lightnings play, And radiant splendors round his head display. From his briglit eyes afl'righted worlds retire ; lie speaks in thuiider and lie breathes in fire. Garments of heavenly light array the God ; His throne a bright consolidated cloud — Support me, Heaven, I sliuddcr with aff'right ; I quake, I sink with terror at the sight. The Lay of Judgment, a Poem, a little varied. THE UMVEKSAL JUDGME^'T. 363 was arrested, was condemned, was buffeted, was spit upon, was crowned with thorns, was executed as a slave and a criminal, upon the cross 1 Yes, it is he 5 the very same Jesus of Nazareth. But 0 how changed ! how deservedly exalted ! Let heaven and earth congratulate his advancement. Now let his enemies appear and show their usual contempt and malignity. Now, Pilate, con- demn the King of the Jews as an usurper. Now, ye Jews, raise the clamor, crucify him, crucify him. " Now bow the knee in scorn, present the reed ; Now tell the scourg'd Impostor he must bleed." — Young. Now, ye Deists and Infidels, dispute his divinity and the truth of his religion if you can. Now, ye hypocritical Christians, try to impose upon him with your idle pre- tences. Now despise his grace, laugh at his threatenings, and make light of his displeasure if you are able. Ah ! now their courage fails, and terror surrounds them like armed men. Now " they hide themselves in the dens, and in the rocks of the mountains ; and say to the moun- tains 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 Lamb that once bled as a sacrifice for sin now appears in all the terrors of a lion ; and " the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able to standi" Rev. vi. 15. O! could they hide themselves in the bottom of the ocean, or in some rock that bears the weight of the mountains, how happy would they think themselves. But, alas ! " Seas cast the monsters forth to meet their doom. And rocks but prison up lor wrath to come." — Young. While the Judge is descending, the parties to be judged v/ill be summoned to appear. But where are they 1 They are all asleep in their dusty beds, except the then generation. And how shall they be roused from their long sleep of thousands of years 1 " Why the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God." 1 Thess. iv. 16. The trumpet shall sound, and they that are then alive shall not pass into otornity through the beaten road of death, but at the last 364? THE UKIVEaSAL JUDG3IENT. trumpet they shall he changed^ changed into immortals, in a moment^ iti the twinkling of an eye. 1 Cor. xv. 51, 52. JVow all the millions of mankind, of whatever country and nation, whether they expect this tremendous day or not, all feel a shock through their whole frames, while they are instantaneously metamorphosed in every limb, and the pulse of immortality begins to beat strong in every part. Now also the slumberers under ground begin to stir, to rouse and spring to life. Now see graves opening, tombs bursting, charnel-houses rattling, the earth heaving, and all alive, while these subterra- nean armies are bursting their way through. See clouds of human dust and broken bones darkening the air, and flying from country to country over intervening conti- nents and oceans to meet their kindred fragments, and repair the shattered frame with pieces collected from a thousand different quarters, whither they were blown away by winds, or washed by waters. See what mil- lions start up in company in the spots where Nineveh, Babylon, Jerusalem, Rome, and London once stood! Whole armies spring to life in fields where they once lost their lives in battle, aud were left unburied ; in fields which fattened with their blood, produced a thou- sand harvests, and now produce a crop of men. See a succession of thousands of years rising in crowds from grave-yards round the places where they once attended, in order to prepare for this decisive day. Nay, graves yawn, and swarms burst into life under palaces and buildings of pride and pleasure, in fields and forests, in thousands of places where graves were never suspected. How are the living surprised to find men starting into life under their feet, or just beside them ; some begin- ning to stir, and heave the ground ; others half-risen, and others quite disengaged from the incumbrance of earth, and standing upright before them ! What vast multitudes that had slept in a watery grave, now emerge from rivers, and seas, and oceans, and throw them into a tumult ! Now appear to the view of all the world the Goliahs, the Anakims, and the other giants of ancient times; and now the millions of infants, those little par- ticles of life, start up at once, perhaps in full maturity, or perhaps in the lowest class of mankind, dwarfs of im- mortality. The deadj small andgreat, will arise to stand THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 365 before God ; and the sea shall give up the dead which were in it. Rev. xx. 12, 13. Now the many that sleep in the dust shall awake and come forth ; some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. Dan. xii. 2- J\''ow the hour is come when all that are in the grave shall hear the voice of the Son of God, and shall come forth ; they that have done good, to the resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil, to the resurrection of damnation. John V. 28. Though after our skin worms destroy this body, yet i/i our flesh shall we see God, whom we shall see for ourselves ; and these eyes shall behold him, and not another. Job. xix. 26, 27. Then this corruptible [body] shall put on incorruption, and this mortal shall put on im- mortality. 1 Cor. XV. 23. As the characters, and consequently the doom of mankind, will be very different, so we may reasonably suppose they will rise in very different forms of glory or dishonor, of beauty or deformity. Their bodies indeed will all be improved to the highest degree, and all made visforous, capacious, and immortal. But here lies the difference : the bodies of the righteous will be strength- ened to bear an exceeding great and eternal weight of glory, but those of the wicked will be strengthened to sustain a heavier load of misery ; their strength will be but mere strength to suffer a horrid capacity of greater pain. The immortality of the righteous will be the duration of their happiness, but that of the wicked of their misery ; their immortality, the highest privilege of their nature, will be their heaviest curse : and they vould willingly exchange their duration with an insect of a day, or a fading flower. The bodies of the righteous will " shine as the sun, and as the stars in the firmament for ever and ever ;" but those of the wicked will be grim and shocking, and ugly, and hateful as hell. The bodies of the righteous will be fit mansions for their heavenly spirits to inhabit, and every feature will speak the de- lightful passions that agreeably work within 5 but the wicked will be but spirits of hell clothed in the material bodies ; and malice, rage, despair, and all the infernal passions, will lower in their countenances, and cast a dis mal gloom around them ! 0 ! they will then be noth- ing else but shapes of deformity and terror ! they will 31* 366 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. look like the natives of hell, and spread horror around them with every look.* \\ ith what reluctance may v.'e suppose will the souls of the wicked enter again into a state of union with these shocking forms, that will be everlasting engines of tor- ture to them, as they once were instruments of sin ! But O ! with what joy will the souls of the righteous return to their old habitations, in which they once served their God with honest, though feeble endeavors, now so glo- riously repaired and improved ! How will they congra- tulate the resurrection of their old companions from their long sleep in death, now made lit to share with them in the sublime employments and fruitions of heaven ! Every organ will be an instrument of service and an inlet of pleasure, and the soul shall no longer be encumbered but assisted by this union to the body. O what surprising creatures can Omnipotence raise from the dust ! To what a high degree of beauty can the Almighty refine the offspring of the earth ! and into what miracles of glory and blessedness can he form them If Now the Judge is come, the judgment-seat is erected, the dead are raised. And what follows 1 Y/hy the uni- versal convention of all the sons of men before the judg- ment-seat. The place of judgment will probably be the extensive region of the air, the most capacious for the reception of such a multitude ; for St. Paul tells us, the saints shall " be caught up together in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air." 1 Thess. iv. 17. And that the air will be the place of judicature, perhaps, may be intimat- ed when our Lord is represented as coming in the clouds, »ad sitting upon a cloudy throne. These expressions * How weak, how pale, how liaggiird, how obscene, What more than death in every face and mien ! With what distress, and glarings of affright They sliock llie heart, and turn away the si^ht ! In gloomy orbs their trembling eye-balls roll, And tell the horrid secrets ol the soul. Each gesture mourns, each look is black with care ; And every groan is loaden with despair. — Young. t Mark, on tlie right, how amiable a grace ! Their ISIiikf'r's image fresh in every face! What purple bloom my ravish'd soul admires, And lluir eyes s|)arkliug with i-nmortal fires ! Triumphant beauty ! charms that rise above This world, and in blest angels kindle love ! O ! the transcendent glories of the Just ! — Youno. THE UINIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 367 can hardly be understood literally, for clouds which con- .sist of vapors and rarified particles of water, seem very improper materials for a chariot of state, or a throne of jiidg-ment; but they may very properly intimate that Christ will make his appearance, and hold his court in the region of the clouds ; that is, in the air; and per- haps that the rays of light an3 majestic darkness shall be so blended around him as to form the appearance of a cloud to the view of the wondering and gazing v/orld. To this upper region, from whence our globe will lie open to view far and wide, will all the sons of men be convened. And they will be gathered together by the ministry of angels, the officers of this grand court. '• The Son of man, when he comes in the clouds of hea- ven with power and great glory, shall send forth his an- gels with a great sound of the trumpet ; and they shall gather togetlier his elect from the four winds, and from one end of heaven to the other." Matt. xxiv. 30, 31. Their ministry also extends to the wicked, whom they will drag away to judgment and execution, and separate from the righteous. For " in the end of the world," says Christ, " the Son of man shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather out of his kingdom all things that offend, and them that work iniquity, and shall cast them into a furnace of fire : there shall be wailing and gnash- ing of teeth." Matt. xiii. 40, 41, 42. What an august convocation, what a vast assembly is .this ! See flights of angels darting round the globe from east to west, from pole to pole, gathering up here and there the scattered saints, choosing them out from among the crowd of the ungodly, and bearing them aloft on their wings to meet the Lord in the air ! while the wretch- ed crowd look and gaze, and stretch their hands, and would mount up along with them ; but, alas ! they must be left behind, and wait for another kind of convoy ; a con- voy of cruel, unrelenting devils, who shall snatch them up as their prey with malignant joy, and place them before the flaming tribunal. Now all the sons of men meet in one immense assembly. Adam beholds the long line of his posterity, and they behold their common father. Now Europeans and Asiatics, the swarthy sons of Africa and the savages of America, mingle together. Christians, Jews, Mahometans, and Pagans, the learned and the ig- 368 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. norant, kings and subjects, rich and poor, free and b(N.Q, form one promiscuous crowd. Now all the vast armies that conquered or fell under Xerxes, Darius, Alexander, Csesar, Scipio, Tamerlane, Marlborough, and other illus- trious warriors, unite in one vast army. There, m short, all the successive inhabitants of the earth for thousands of years appear in one assembly. And how inconceiva- bly great must the number be ! When the inhabitants of but one county are met together, you are struck with the survey. Were all the inhabitants of a kingdom con- vened in one place, how much more striking would be the sight ! Were all the inhabitants of the kingdoms of the earth convened in one general rendezvous, how astonishing and vast would be the multitude ! But what is even this vast multitude compared with the long suc- cession of generations that have peopled the globe, in all ages, and in all countries, from the first commencement of time to the last day ! Here numbers fail, and our thoughts are lost in the immense survey. The extensive region of the air is very properly chosen as the place of judgment ; for this globe would not be sufficient for such a multitude to stand upon. In that prodigious as- sembly, my brethren, you and I must mingle. And we shall not be lost in the crowd, nor escape the notice of our Judge ; but his eye will be as particularly fixed on every one of us as though there were but one before him. To increase the number, and add a majesty and terror to the assembly, the fallen angels also make their ap* pearance at the bar. This they have long expected with horror, as the period w^hen their consummate misery is to commence. When Christ, in the form of a servant, exercised a god-like power over them in the days of his residence upon earth, they almost mistook his first com- ing as a Savior for his second coming as their Judge ; and therefore they expostulated, ^rt thou come to tor- went us before the time ? Matt. viii. 29. That is to say, We expect thou wilt at last appear to torment us, but we did not expect thy coming so soon. Agreeable to this, St. Peter tells us, " God spared not the angels that sin- ned, but cast them down to hell, and dehvered them as prisoners into chains of darkness, to be reserved unto judgment." 2 Peter ii. 4. To the same purpose St THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 369 Jude speaks : " The angeJs which kept not tlieir first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness, unto the judgment of the great day." Jude 6. What horribly majestic figures will these be ! and what a dreadful appearance will they make at the bar ! angels and archangels, thrones, and dominions, and principalities, and powers blasted, strip- ped of their primeval glories, and lying in ruins ,• yet majestic even in ruins, gigantic forms of terror and de- formity ; great though degraded, horribly illustrious, an- gels fallen, gods undeified and deposed.* Now the judge is seated, and anxious millions stand before him waiting for their doom. As yet there is no separation made between them ; but men and devils, saints and sinners, are promiscuously blended together. But see ! at the order of the Judge, the crowd is all in motion ; they part, they sort together according to their character, and divide to the right and left. " When all nations are gathered before the Son of man, hwiself has told us, he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats ; and he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left." Matt. XXV. 32, 33. And, 0 ! what strange separa- tions are now made ! what multitudes that once ranked themselves among the saints, and were highly esteemed for their piety, by others as well as themselves, are now banished from among them, and placed with the trem- bling criminals on the left hand ! and how many poor, honest-hearted, doubting, desponding souls, whose fore- bodinor fears had often placed them there, now find them- selves, to their agreeable surprise, stationed on the rigiit hand of their Judge, who smiles upon them ! What con- nections are now broken ! what hearts torn asunder ! what intimate companions, what dear relations parted for ever ! neighbor from neighbor, masters from servants, friend from friend, parents from children, husband from -The foe of God and man, From his dark den, blaspheming, drags his chain, And rears his blazing front, with thunder scarr'd ; Receives his sentence, and begins his hell. All vengeance past, now seems abundant graco ; Like meteors in a stormy sky, how roll His baleful eyes ! he curses whom he dreads, And deems it the first moment of his fall. — Youwo, 370 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. wife ; those who were but one flesh, and who lay in one another's bosoms, must part for ever. Those that lived in the same country, who sustained the same denomination, who worshipped in the same place, who lived under one roof, who lay in the same womb, and sucked the same breasts, must now part for ever. And is there no sepa- ration likely to be made then in our families or in our congregation 1 Is it likely we shall all be placed in a body upon the right hand 1 Are all the members of our families prepared for that glorious station 1 Alas ! are there not some families among us w^ho, it is to be feared, shall all be sent off to the left hand, without so much as one exception 1 for who are those miserable multitudes on the left hand 1 There, through the medium of reve- lation, I see the drunkard, the swearer, the whoremonger, the liar, the defrauder, and the various classes of profane, profligate sinners. There I see the unbeliever, the im- penitent, the lukewarm formalist, and the various classes of hypocrites, and half-Christians. There I see the fa- milies that call not upon God's name, and whole nations that forget him. And, 0 ! what vast multitudes, what millions of millions of millions do all these make! And do not some, alas ! do not many of you belong to one or other of these classes of sinners w^hom God, and Christ, and scripture, and conscience conspire to condemn 1 If so, to the left hand you must depart among devils and trembling criminals, whose guilty minds forebode their doom before the judicial process begins. But who are those glorious immortals upon the right hand 1 They are those who have surrendered themselves entirely to God, through Jesus Christ, who have heartily complied with the method of salvation revealed in the gospel ; who have been formed new creatures by the almighty power of God ; who make it the most earnest persever- ing endeavor of their lives to work out their own salva- tion, and to live righteously, soberly, and godly in the world. These are some of the principal lineaments of their character who shall have their safe and honorable station at the right hand of the sovereign Judge. And is not this the prevailing character of some of you '\ I hope and believe it is. Through the medium of scrip- ture revelation then I see you in that blessed station. And, O ! I would make an appointment with you thia THE UNTVrrSAL JUDCiMEKT. 371 day to meet you there. Yes, let us this day appoint the time and place where we shall meet after the separation and dispersion that death will make among us : and let it be at the right hand of the Judge at the last day. If I be so happy as to obtain some humble place there, I shall look out for you, my dear people. There I shall expect your company, that we may ascend together to join in the more exalted services and enjoyments of heaven, as we have frequently in the humbler forms of worship in the church on earth. But, O ! when I think what unex- pected separations will then be made, I tremble lest I should miss some of you there. Are you not afraid lest you should miss some of your friends, or some of your fami- lies there 1 or that you should then see them move off to the left hand, and looking back with eagerness upon you, as if they w^ould say, " This is my doom through your carelessness ; had you but acted a faithful part towards me, while conversant with you or under your care, I might nov/ have had my place among the saints." O ! how could you bear such significant piercing looks from a child, a servant, or a friend ! Therefore now do all in your pow er to " convert sinners from the error of their way, and to save their souls from death." When we entered upon this practical digression, w^e left all things ready for the judicial process. And now the trial begins. Now " God judges the secrets of men by Jesus Christ." Rom. ii. 16. All the works of all the sons of men will then be tried ; " For," says St. Paul, " we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, that every man may receive the things done in the body, according to what he hath done, whether it be good, or whether it be evil." 2 Cor. v. 10. St. John in his vision " saw the ('cad judged according to their works." Rev. XX. 12, 13. These works immediately refer to the actions of the life, but they may also include the inward temper, and thoughts of the soul, and the w^ords of the rips; for all these shall be brought into judgment. ' God," says Solomon, " will bring every work into judgment, and every secret thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil." Eccl. xii. 14. And though we are too apt to think our words are free, he that is to be our Judge has told us that " for every idle word which men shall speak, they shall give an account in the day 372 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT of judgment ; for by thy words, as well as thy actions thou shalt be justified ; and by thy words thou shalt be condemned." Matt. xii. 36, 37. What strange discoveries will this trial make 1 what noble dispositions that never shone in full beauty to mortal eyes ; what generous purposes crushed in em- bryo for want of power to execute them ; what pious and noble actions concealed under the veil of modesty, or misconstrued by ignorance and prejudice ; what affectionate aspirations, what devout exercises of heart, which lay open only to the eyes of Omniscience, are now brought to full light, and receive the approbation of the Supreme Judge before the assembled universe 1 But on the other hand, what works of shame and darkness, what hidden things of dishonesty, what dire secrets of. treachery, hypocrisy, lewdness, and various forms of wickedness artfully and industriously concealed from human sight, what horrid exploits of sin now burst to light in all their hellish colors, to the confusion of the guilty, and the astonishment and horror of the universe 1 Sure, the history of mankind must then appear like the annals of hell, or the biography of devils ! Then the mask of dissimulation will be torn off Clouded charac- ters will clear up, and men as well as things will appear in their true light. Their hearts ivill be as it were turn- ed outwards, and all their secrets exposed to full view. The design of the judicial inquiry Avill not be to inform the omniscient Judge, but to convince all worlds of the justice of his proceedings ; and this design renders it necessary that all these things should be laid open to their sight, that they may see the grounds upon which he passes sentence And may not the prospect of s'lch a discovery fill some of you with horror % for many of your actions, and especially of your thoughts, will not bear the light. How would it confound you, if they were now all published, even in the small circle of your acquaintance ( How then can you bear to have them all fully exposed before God, angels, and men ! AVill it not confound you with shame, and make you objects of everlasting contempt to all worlds 1 These are the facts to be tried. But by what rule shall they be tried \ From the goodness and justice of God we may conclude that men will be judged by some THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 873 rule known to them, or which at least it was in tlieir power to know. Now the light of reason, the law of nature, or conscience, is a universal rule, and universally- known, or at least knowable by all the sons of men, heathens and Mahometans, as well as Jews and Chris- tians : and therefore all mankind shall be judged by this rule. This the consciences of all now forebodes ; " for when the Gentiles which have not the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, not having the law, are a law unto themselves, which show the works of the law written in their hearts, their conscience al&o bearing witness, and their thoughts, the mean while, accusing or else excusing one another." Rom. ii. 14, 15. By this rule their consciences now acquit or con- demn them, because they know that by this rule they shall then be judged : this seems to be a kind of innate presentiment of human nature. As the heathens were invincibly ignorant of every rule but this, they shall be judged by this only. But as to those parts of the world that enjoyed, or might enjoy the advantages of revela- tion, whether by tradition with the Anti-Mosaic world, or in the writings of Moses and the prophets wit'^ the Jews, or in the clearer dispensation of the gospel with the Christian world, they shall be judged by this reveal- ed law. And by how much the more perfect the rule, by so much the stricter will their account be. That which would be an excusable infirmity in an African or an American Indian, may be an aggravated crime in us who enjoy such superior advantages. This is evident from the repeated declarations of sacred writ. " As many as have sinned without the law, (that is, without the Avritten law,) shall also perish without the law ; and as many as have sinned in the law shall be judged by the law, in the day when God shall judge the secrets of men according to my gospel." Rom. ii. 12, 16. " If I had not come and spoken unto them," says the blessed Jesus, " they would not have had sin ;" that is, they would not have had sin so aggravated, or they would not have had the particular sin of unbelief in rejecting the Messiah : hut now they have no cloak for their sin, John XV. 22 ; that is, now when they have had such abundant conviction, they are utterly inexcusable. " This," says he, " is the condemnation j" that is, this is the 32 374 THE UIslVERS-eL JUDGMENT. occasion of the most aggravated condemnation ; '^ that light is come into the world, and men love darkness rather than hght, because their deeds are evil." John iii. 19. " That servant which knew his Lord's will, and prepared not himself, neither did according to his will, shall be beaten with many stripes ; but he that knew not, and did commit things worthy of stripes, (observe, ignorance is no sufficient excuse, except when invinci- ble,) shall be beaten v\'ith few stripes ; for unto whom- soever much is given, of him shall be much required." Luke xii. 47, 48. Upon these maxims of eternal right- ousness, the Judge will proceed in pronouncing the doom of the world ; and it was upon these principles he de- clared, in the days of his flesh, " that it should be more tolerable in the day of judgment for Sodom and Gomor- rah, for Tyre and Sidon," than for those places that en- joyed the advantages of his ministry, and misimproved it. Matt. xi. 21, 24. Whether upon these principles sinners among us have not reason to expect they will obtain a horrid precedence among the million of sinners in that day, I leave you to judge, and to tremble at the thought. There is another representation of this proceeding, which we often meet with in the sacred writings, in al- lusion to the forms of proceedings in human courts. In courts of law, law-books are referred to, opened, and read for the direction of the judges, and sentence is pass- ed according to them. In allusion to this custom, Dan- iel, in vision, saw the judgment-seat^ and the books were opened : Dan. vii. 10. And St. John had the same re- presentation made to him : " I saw the dead," says he, " small and great, stand before God, and the books were opened ; and another book was opened, which is the book of life ; and the dead were judged out of the things which were written in the books, according to their works : Rev. xx. 12. Should we pursue this significant allusion, we may say, then will be opened the book of the law of nature ; and mankind will be tried according to its precepts, and doomed according to its sentence. This is a plain and vast volume, open and legible now to all that can read their own hearts ; that have eyes to look round upon the works of God, which show his glory and their duty ; and THE UKIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 375 who have ears to hear the lectures which the sun and moon, and all the works of creation, read to them night and day. Then, tbo, v.ill be opened the book of scrip- ture-revelation, in all its parts, both the law of Moses and the gospel of Christ ; and according to it will those be judged who lived under one or other of these dispen- sations. Then it will appear that that neglected, old- fashioned book called the Bible is not a romance, or a system of trifling truths, but the standard of life and death to all who had access to it. Then will also be opened the book of God's remembrance. In that are recorded all the thoughts, words, actions, both good and bad, of all the sons of men : and now the immense ac- count shall be publicly read before the assembled uni- verse. Then, likewise, as a counterpart to this, will be opened the book of conscience ; conscience which, though unnoticed, writes our whole history as with an iron pen and the point of a diamond.* Then, also, we are expressly told, will be opened the book of life ; Rev. XX. 12, in which are contained all the names of all the heirs of heaven. This seems to be an allusion to those registers which are kept in cities or corporations, of the names of all the citizens or members who have a right to all the privileges of the society. And I know not what we can understand by it so properly as the perfect knowledge which the omniscient God has, and always had from eternity, of those on whom he purposed to be- stow eternal life, and whom he h;fs from eternity, as it were, registered as members of the general assembly and church of the first-born, who are written in heaven, or • O treacherous Conscience ! while she seems to sleep On rose and myrtle, luU'd with Syren song ; While she seems, nodding o'er her charge, to drop On headlong appetite the slacUen'd reign, And give us up to license unrecall'd, Unmark'd — as IVom behind her secret stand The sly informer minutes every fault, And her dread diary with horror fills — Unnoted notes each moment misapply'd, In leaves more durable than leavt-s of brass, Writes our whole history ; which Death shall read In every pale ollender's private ear ; And Judgment publish, publish to more worlds Than this ; and endless age in groans resound. Such, sinner, is that sleeper in thy breast • Such is her slumber; and her vengeance such For slighted counsel Yoinra. 376 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. as denizens of that blessed city. These, having been ali prepared by his grace in time, shall be admitted into the New Jerusalem in that day of the Lord. Farther, the representation which the scripture gives us of the proceedings of that day leads us to conceive of witnesses being produced to prove the facts. The omniscient Judge will be a witness against the guilty. " I will come near to you to judgment, and I will be a swift witness against the sorcerers, and against the swearers, and against the adulterers, and against those that oppress, and against those that fear not me, saith the Lord of Hosts : " Mai. iii. 5. And he will, no doubt, be a witness for his people, and attest their sincere piety, their interest in Christ, and those good dispositions or actions w^hich were known only to him. Angels also, that ministered to the heirs of salvation, and no doubt inspected the affairs of mankind, will be witnesses. Devils too, who once tempted, will now be- come accusers. Conscience within will also be a wit- ness ! it shall acquit the righteous of many unjust im- putations, and attest the sincerity of their hearts and their many good actions. But O ! it will be the most terrible witness against the ungodly ! — They will be wit- nesses against themselves, (Josh. xxiv. 22,) and this will render them self-tormentors. Conscience will re-echo to the voice of the Judge, and cry, Guilty, guilty, to all his accusations. And who can make the wicked happy when they torment themselves 1 Who can acquit them when they are self-condemned 1 Conscience, whose evi- dence is now so often suppressed, will then have full scope, and shall be regarded. Whom concience con demns the righteous Judge will also condemn j for, " if our hearts condemn us, God is greater than our hearts, and knoweth all things," 1 John iii. 20, know^eth many more grounds for condeming us than we, and therefore much more will he condemn us. In short, so full will be the evidence against the sinner, that the scripture which is full of striking imagery to affect human nature, gives life to inanimated things upon this occasion, and represents them as speaking. Stones and dust shall witness against the ungodly. The dust under the feet of their ministers shall witness against them : Matt. x. 14. " The stone shall cry out of the wall, and the beam out of the timber THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 377 >v shall answer it." Hab. ii. 11. The rust of their ^old and silver shall be a witness against them, and shall eat their flesh as it were fire. James v. 3. Nay, the heav- ens shall reveal their iniquity, and the earth shall rise up against them. Job xx. 27. Heaven and earth were call- ed to witness that life and death were set before them, Deut. XXX. 19, and now tiiey will give in their evidence that they chose death. Thus God and all his creatures, heaven, earth, and hell, rise up against them, accuse and condemn them. And will not sinners accuse and witness against one another 1 Undoubtedly they will. They who lived or conversed together upon earth, and were spectators of each other's conduct, will then turn mutual witnesses against each other. 0, tremendous thought ! that friend should inform and witness against friend ; pa- rents against children, and children against parents ; ministers against their people, and people against their ministers; alas! what a confounding testimony against each other must those give in who are now sinning to- gether ! Thus the way is prepared for the passing sentence. The case was always clear to the omniscient Judge, but now it is so fully discussed and attested by so many evi- dences, that it is quite plain to the whole world of crea- tures, who can judge only by such evidence, and for whose conviction the formality of a judicial process is appointed. How long a time this grand court will sit, we cannot determine, nor has God thought fit to inform us ; but when we consider how ] articular the trial will be, and the innumerable multitude to be tried, it seems reasonable to suppose it will be a long session. It is in- deed often called a day ; but it is evident a day in such cases does not signify a natural day, but the space of time allotted for transacting a business, though it be a hundred or even a thousand years. Creatures are inca- pable of viewing all things at once, and therefore, since the trial, as I observed, is intended to convince them of the equity of the divine proceedings, it is proper the pro- ceedings should be particular and leisurely, that they may have time to observe them. We are now come to the grand crisis, upon which the eternal states of all mankind turn ; I mean the passing the great decisive sentence. Heaven and earth are all 32* 378 THE UMVEKSAL JUDGMENT. silence and attention, while the Judge, with smiles in his face, and a voice sweeter than heavenly music, turns to the glorious company on his right hand, and pours all the joys of heaven into their souls, in that transporting sentence, of which he has graciously left us a copy ; Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prep area for you from the foundation of the world. Every word is full of emphasis, full of heaven, and exactly agreeable to the desires of those to whom it is addressed. They de- sired, and longed, and languished to be near their Lord ; and now their Lord invites them. Come near me, and dwell with me for ever. There was nothing they de- sired so much as the blessing of God, nothing they fear- ed so much as his, curse, and now their fears are entirely removed, and their designs fully accomplished, for the supreme Judge pronounces them blessed of his Father. They were all poor in spirit, most of them poor in this world, and all sensible of their unworthiness. How agreeably then are they surprised, to hear themselves invited to a kingdom, invited to inherit a Ivingdom, as princes of the blood-royal, born to thrones and crowns ! How will they be lost in \\ondcr, joy, and praise, to find that the great God entertained thoughts of love towards them, before they had a being, or the world in which they dwelt had its foundation laid, and that he was pre- paring a kingdom for them while they were nothing, un- known even in idea, except to himself! O! brethren, dare any of us expeci this sentence will be passed upon us \ Methinks the ve y thought overwhelms us. Me- thinks our feeble frames must be unable to bear up un- der the extatic hope of so sweetly oppressive" a blessed- ness. O ! if this be our sentence in that day, it is no matter what we suffer in the intermediate space ; that sentence would compensate for all, and annihilate the sufferings of ten thousand years. But hark ! anotlier sentence breaks from the mouth of the angry Judge, like vengeful thunder. Nature gives a deep tremendous groan ; tlie heavens lower and gather blackness, the earth trembles, and guilty millions sink with horror nt the sound ! And see, he. whose w ords are works, whose fiat produces worlds out of nothing ; he who could remand ten thousand worlds into nothing at a frown ; he whose thunder quelled the insurrection of rebel THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMExNT. 37J angels in heaven, and hurled them headlong down, down, down, to the dungeon of hell ; see, he turns to the guilty crowd on his left hand ; his angry countenance discov ers the righteous indignation that glows in his breast. His countenance bespeaks him inexorable, and that there is now no room for prayers and tears. Now^, the sweet, mild, mediatorial hour is past, and nothing appears but the majesty and terror of the judge. Horror and darkness frown upon his brows, and vindictive lightnings flash from his eyes. And now, (O ! who can bear the sound !) he speaks, " Depart from me ye cursed, into evelasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels." O ! the cutting emphasis of every word ! Depart ! depart from me ; from Me, the Author of all good, the Fountain of all good, the Fountain of all happiness. Depart, with all my heavy, all-consuming curse upon you. Depart into fire, into everlasting, into everlasting fire, prepared, furnished with fuel, and blown up into rage, prepared for the devil and his angels, once your companions in sin, and now the companions and executioners of your punishment. Now the grand period is arrived in which the final, everlasting states of mankind are unchangeably settled. From this all important era their happiness or misery runs on in one uniform, uninterrupted tenor ; no change. no gradation, but from glory to glory, in the scale of perfection, or from gulf to gulf in hell. This is the day in which all the schemes of Providence, carried on for thousands of years, terminate. '' Great day ! for which all other days were made : For which earth rose from chaos : man from earth : And an eternity, tlie date of gods, Descended on poor earth-created man !"' — Young. Time was ; but is no more ! Now all the sons of men enter upon a duration not to be measured by the revolu- tions of the sun, nor by days, and months, and years. Now eternity dawns, a day that shall never see an even- ing. And this terribly illustrious morninof is solemnized with the execution of the sentence. No sooner is it passed than immediately the wicked " go away into ever- lasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal." Matt. XXV. 46. See the astonished thunder-struck mul- titude on the left hand, with sullen horror, and grief, 380 THE UNIVERSAL JUDGME^'T. and despair in their looks, writhing with agony, crying and wringing their hands, and glancing a wishful eye to- wards that heaven which they lost : dragged away by devils to the place of execution ! See hell expands her voracious jaws, and swallows them up ! and now an eternal farewell to earth and all its enjoyments ! Fare- well to the cheerful light of heaven ! Farewell to hope, that sweet relief of affliction ! '•' Faiewell, happy fields, Where joy forever dwells ! Hail, horrors ! hail, Infernal world ! and ihou, profoundest hell, Receive thy new possessors !" — Milton. Heaven frowns upon them trom above, the horrors of hell spread far and wide around them, and conscience within preys upon their hearts. Conscience ! 0 thou abused, exasperated power, that now sleepest in so many breasts, what severe, ample revenge wilt thou then take upon those that now dare to do thee violence ! O the dire reflections which memory will then suggest ! the remembrance of mercies abused ! of a Savior slighted ! of means and opportunities of salvation neglected and lost ! this remembrance will sting the heart like a scor- pion. But O eternity! eternity ! with what horror will thy name circulate through the vaults of hell ! eternity in misery ! no end to pain ! no hope of an end ! O this is the hell of hell ! this is the parent of despair ! despair the direst ingredient of misery, the most tormenting pas- sion which devils feeL — But let us view a more delight- ful and illustrious scene. See the bright and triumphant army marching up to their eternal home, under the conduct of the Captain of their salvation, where they shall ever he with the Lord, 1 Thess. iv. 17, as happy as their nature in its highest im- provements is capable of being made. With what shouts of joy and triumph do they ascend ! with what sublime hallelujahs do they crown their Deliverer ! with what wonder and joy, with what pleasing horror, like one that has narrowly escaped some tremendous precipice, do they look back upon what they once were ! once mean, guilty, depraved, condeumed sinners ! afterward imper- fect, broken-hearted, sighing, weeping saints ! but now innocent, holy, happy, glorious immortals ! THE UNIVERSAL JUDGMENT. 381 '' Are these the forms tliat mouldered in the dust? O the transcendent glories of the just !'' — Young. Now with what pleasure and rapture do they look for- ward through the long, long prospect of immortality, and call it their own ! the duration not only of their ex- istence, but of their happiness and glory ! 0 shall any of us share in this immensely vakiable privilege ! how immensely transporting the thought ! " Shall we, who some few years ago were less Than worm, or mile, or shadow can express ; Were nothing ; shall we live, when every fire Of every star shall languish or expire ? When earth 's no more, shall we survive above, And througli the shining ranks of angels move? Or, as before the throne of God we stand, See new worlds rolling from his mighty hand ? — All that has being in full concert join. And celebrate the depths of love divine !'' — Youno. O what exploits, what miracles of power and grace, are these 1 But why do I darken such splendors with words without knowledge 1 the language of mortals was formed for lower descriptions. " Eye hath not seen, ear has not heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things that God hath laid up for them that love him." 1 Cor. ii. 9. And now when the inhabitants of our world, for whose sake it was formed, are all removed to other regions, and it is left a wide extended desert, what remains, but that it also meet its fate 1 It is fit so guilty a globe, that had been the stage of sin for so many thousands of years, and which even supported the cross on which its Maker expired, should be made a monument of the divine displeasure, and either be laid in ruins, or refined by fire. And see ! the universal blaze begins ! " the heav- ens pass away with a great noise ; the elements melt with fervent heat ; the earth and the works that are therein are burnt up." 2 Pet. iii. 10. Now stars rush from their orbits ; comets glare ; the earth trembles with convulsions ; the Alps, the Andes, and all the lofty peaks or long extended ridges of mountains burst out into so many burning TEtnas, or thunder, and lighten, and smoke, and flame, and quake like Sinai, when God de- scended upon it to publish his fiery law ! Rocks melt and run down in torrents of flame ; rivers, lakes, and oceans 382 THE UMVERSAL JUDG3IENT. boil and evaporate. Sheets of lire and pillars of smoke, outrageous and insufferable thunders and lightnings burst, and bellow, and blaze, and involve the atmosphere from pole to pole.*' The whole globe is now dissolved into a shoreless ocean of liquid fire. And where now shall we find the places where cities stood, where armies fought, where mountains stretched their ridges, and reared their heads on high 1 Alas ! they are all lost, and have left no trace behind them where they once stood. Where art thou, 0 my country \ Sunk with the rest as a drop into the burning ocean. Where now are your houses, ^^our lands, and those earthly possessions you were once so fond of? They are nowhere to be found. How sorry a portion for an immortal mind is such a dying world as this ! And, O ! *' How rich (hat God who can such charge defray, And bear to fling ten thousand worlds away !" Young. Thus, my brethren ! I have given you a view of the solemnities of the last day which our world shall see. The view has indeed been but very faint and obscure : and siich will be all our views and descriptions of it, till our eyes and our ears teach us better. Through these avenues you will at length receive your instructions. Yes, brethren, those ears that now hear my voice shall hear the all-alarming clangor of the last trumpet, the decisive sentence from the mouth of the universal Judge, and the horrid crash of falling worlds. These very eyes with which you now see one another, shall yet see the descending Judge, the assembled multitudes, and all the majestic phenomena of that day. And we shall not see them as indifferent spectators ; no, we are as much con- cerned'in this great transaction as any of the children of men. We must all appear before the judgment-seat, and receive our sentence according to the deeds done in the body. And if so, what are we doing that we are not more diligently preparing 1 Why does not the prospect affect us more 1 Why does it not transport the righteous • " See all the formidable sons of Fire, Eruptions, Earthq^uakcs, Comets, Lightnings play Their various engmes ; all at once discharge Their blazing magazines ; and take by storm This poor terrestrial citadel of man." — Young. THE U.MVERSAL JUDGMtAT. 383 with joij unspeakable^ and full of glory I 1 Peter i. 8 And why are not the sinners in Zion afraid I Why does not fearf Illness surprise the hypocrites ? Isa. .vxxiii. 14. Can one of you be careless from this hour till you are in readiness for that tremendous day \ What, do the sinners among you now think of repent- ance 1 Repentance is the grand preparative for this awful day ; and the apostle, as 1 observed, mentions the final judgment in my text as a powerful motive to re- pentance. And what will criminals think of repentance when they see the Judge ascend his throne 1 Come, sinners, look forward and see the flaming tribunal erect- ed, your crimes exposed, your doom pronounced, and your hell begun ; see a whole world demolished, and ravaged by boundless conflagration for your sins ! With these objects before you, I call you to repent ! — I call you ! I retract the words : God, the great God whom heaven and earth obey, commands you to repent. What- ever be your characters, whether rich or poor, old or young, white or black, wherever you sit or stand, this command reaches you ; for God now commandcth all men everywhere to repe?it. You are this day firmly bound to this duty by his authority. And dare you disobey with the prospect of all the awful solemnities of judgment before you in so near a view 1 O ! methinks I have now brought you into such a situation, that the often repeat- ed but hitherto neglected call to repentance will be re- garded by you. Repent you must, either upon earth or in hell. You must either spend your time or your eter- nity in repentance. It is absolutely unavoidable. Putting it ofl now does not remove the necessity, but will only render it the more bitter and severe hereafter. Which then do you choose \ the tolerable, hopeful, medicinal repentance of the present life, or the intolerable, unpro- fitable, despairing repentance of hell? Will you choose to spend time or eternity in this melancholy exercise 1 O ! make the choice which God, which reason, which self-interest, wdiich common sense recommend to you. Now repent at the command of God, because he hath ap' pointed a day in which he will judge the world in righte- ousness^ by that Man whom he hath ordained^ of which he hath given you all full assurance in that he raised him from the dead. AME^^ 384 THE ONE THIKG NEEDFUL SERMON XXI. THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. Luke x. 41, 42. — ^nd Jesus answered and said unto her Martha^ Martha^ thou art careful and troubled about many things ; but one thing is needful : and Mary hath chosen that good part ^ which shall not be taken away from her For what are we placed in this world 1 Is it to dwell here always 1 You cannot think so, when the millions of mankind that have appeared upon the stage of time are so many instances of the contrary. The true notion therefore of the present state is, that it is a state of pre- paration and trial for the eternal world ; a state of edu- cation for our adult age. As children are sent to school, and youth bound out to trades, to prepare them for busi- ness, and qualify them to live in the world, so we are placed here to prepare us for the grand business of im- mortality, the state of our maturity, and to qualify us to live for ever. And is there a heaven of the most perfect happiness, and a hell of the most exquisite misery, just before us, perhaps not a year or even a day distant from us 1 And is it the great design, the business and duty of the present state, to obtain the one and escape the other \ Then what are we doing % What is the world doing all around us 1 Are they acting as it becomes candidates for eternity 1 Are they indeed making that the principal ob- ject of their most zealous endeavors, which is the grand design, business and duty of the present state 1 Are they minding this at all adventures whatever else they neg- lect 1 This is what we might expect from them as rea- sonable creatures, as creatures that love themselves, and have a strong innate desire of happiness. This a stranger to our world might charitably presume concerning them. But, alas ! look upon the conduct of the world around vou, or look nearer home, and where you are more near- ly interested, upon your own conduct, and you will see this is not generally the case. No ; instead of pursuing the one thing needful, the world is all in motion, all bus- tle and hurry, like ants upon a mole-hill, about other af 7li?. ONE THING NEEDFUL. 385 fairs. They are in a still higher degree than officioug Martha, careful and troubled about many things. Now to recall you from this endless variety of vain pursuits, and direct your endeavors to the proper object, I can think of no better expedient thou to explain and inculcate upon you the admonition of Christ to Martha, and his commen- dation of Mary upon this head. Martha was the head of a little family, probably a widov.', in a village near Jerusalem, called Bethany. Her brother and sister, Lazarus and Mary, lived along with her. And what is remarkable concerning this little family is, that they were all lovers of Jesus: and their love was not without returns on his side ; for we are expressly told that Jesus loved Martha^ and her sister^ and Lazarus What a happy family is this! but O how rare in the world ! This was a convenient place of retirement to Jesus, after the labors and fatigues of his ministry in the city, and here we often find him. Though spent and ex hausted with his public services, yet when he gets into the circle of a few friends in a private house, he cannot be idle , he still instructs them with his hcu\ only dis course ; and his conversation is a constant sermon Mary, who w^as passionately devout, and eager for in* struction, would not let such a rare opportunity slip, but sits down at the feet of this great Teacher, which was the posture of the Jewish pupils before their masters,* and eagerly catches every vv^ord from his lips; from which dropped knowledge sweeter than honey from the honey-comb. Though she is solicitous for the comfort of her heavenly guest, yet she makes no great stir to provide for him an elegant or sumptuous entertainment ; for she knew his happiness did not consist in luxurious eating and drinking: it was his meat and his drink to do the will of his Father ; and as for the sustenance of his body, plain food was most acceptable to him. He was not willing that any should lose their souls by losing opportunities of instruction, while they were making sumptuous provision for him. Mary was also so deeply engaged about her salvation, that she was nobly careless about the little decencies of entertainments The body • Hence St. Paul's expression, thai lie was brought up at the feet of Gamaliel. 33 3Sb rilE ONE THING NEEDFUL. and all its supports and gratifications appeared of very small importance to her when compared with the immor- tal soul. O ! if that be but fed with the words of eterna life, it is enough. All this she did wdth Christ's warm approbation, and therefore her conduct is an example worthy of our imitation : and if it were imitated, it would happily reform the pride, luxury, excessive delicacy, and multiform extravagance Avhich have crept in upon us under the ingratiating names of politeness, decency, hos- pitality, good economy, and I know not what. These guilty superfluities and refinements render the life of some a course of idolatry to so sordid a god as their bel- lies ; and that of others, a course of busy, laborious, and expensive trifling. Bat to return : Martha, though a pious woman, yet, like too many among us, was too solicitous about these things. She seemed more concerned to maintain her reputation for good economy and hospitality, thnn to improve in di- vine knowledge at every opportunity ; and to entertain her guest rather as a gentleman than as a divine teacher and the Savior of souls. Hence, instead of sitting at his feet v.'ith her sister, in the posture of a humble disciple, she was busy in making preparations ; and her mind was distracted with the cares of her family. As moderate labor and care about earthly things is lawful, and even a duty, persons are not readily suspicious or easily con- vinced of their guilty excesses in these labors and cares. Hence Martha is so far from condemning herself on this account, that she blames her devout sister for not follow- ing her example. Nay, she has the confidence to com- plain to Christ himself of her neglect, and that in lan- guage too that sounds somewhat rude and irreverent " Carest thou not that my sister hath left nie to serve alone \ " Art thou so partial as to suffer her to devolve all the trouble upon me while she sits idle at thy feet 1 Jesus turns upon her with just severity, and throws the blame where it should lie. Martha, Martha I There is a vehemence and pungency in tiic repetition, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things. " Thy worldly mind has many objects, and many objects excite many cares and troubles, fruitless troubles and useless cares. Thy restless mind is scattered among a thousand things, and tossed from one to another with an THE OKE THING .\EEDFUL. 381 endless variety of anxieties. But let me collect my thoughts and cares to one point, a point where they should all terminate : one thing is needful ; and there- fore, dropping thy excessive care ahout many things, make this one thing the great object of thy pursuit. This one thing is what thy sister is now attending to, while thou art vainly careful about many things ; and there- fore, instead of blaming her conduct, I must approve it. She has made the best choice, for she hath chosen that good part which shall not be taken away from her. After all thy care and labor, the things of this vain world must be given up at last, and lost for ever. But Mary hath made a wiser choice ; the portion she hath chosen shall be her's forever ; it shall never be taken away from her." But what does Christ mean by this one thing which alone is needful 1 I answer, We may learn what he meant by the occa- sion and circumstances of his speaking. He mentions this one thing in an admonition to Martha for excessive worldly cares and the neglect of an opportunity for pro- moting her salvation ; and he expressly opposes this one thing to the many things wdiich engrossed her care ; and therefore it must mean something different from and su- perior to all the pursuits of time. This one thing is that which Mary was so much concerned about while atten- tively listening to his instruction. And \vhat can that be but salvation as the end, and holiness as the means, or a proper care of the soul 1 This is that which is opposite and superior to the many cares of life ; — this is that which Mary was attending to and pursuing: and I may add, this is that good part which Mary had chosen, which should never be taken away from her ; for that good part which Mary had chosen seems intended by Christ to explain what he meant by the one thing needful. Therefore the one thing needful must mean the salvation of the soul, and an earnest application to the means necessary to ob- tain this end above all other things in the world. To be holy in order to be happy ; to pray, to hear, to medi- tate, and use all the means of grace appointed to pro- duce or cherish holiness in us ; to use these means with constancy, frequency, earnestness, and zeal ; to use them diligently whatever else be neglected, or to make all other things give way in comparison of this ; this I 388 THE ONE THL\G xNEEDFUL* apprehend is the one thing needful which Christ here in- tends : this is that which is absolutely necessary, neces- sary above all other things, and necessary for ever. The end, namely, salvation, will be granted by all to be ne- cessary, and the necessity of the end renders the means also necessary. II it be necessary you shall be for ever happy, and escape everlasting misery, it is necessary you should be holy ; for you can no more be saved without holiness than you can be healthy without health, see without light, or live without food. And if holiness be necessary, then the earnest use of the means appoint- ed for the production and improvement of holiness in us must be necessary too ; for you can no more expect to become holy without the use of these means, than to reap without sowing, or become truly virtuous and good by chance or fatality. To be holy in order to be happy, and to use all the means of grace in order to be holy, is therefore the one thing needful. But why is this concern which is so complex called one thing 1 I answer: Though salvation and holiness include va- rious ingredients, and though the means of grace are various, yet they may be all taken collectively and called one thing ; that is, one great business, one important object of pursuit, in which all our endeavors and aims should centre and terminate. It is also said to be one, in opposition to the many things that are the objects of a worldly mind. This world owes its variety in a great measure to contradiction and inconsistency. There is no harmony or unity in the earthly objects of men's pur- suits, nor in the means they use to secure them. Riches, honors and pleasures generally clash. If a man will be rich he must restrain himself in the pleasures of gratify- ing his eager appetites, and perhaps use some mean ar- tifices that may stain his honor. If he would be honor- able, he must often be prodigal of his riches, and abstain from some sordid pleasures. If he would have the full enjoyment of sensual pleasures, he must often squander away his riches, and injure his honor to procure them The lusts of men as well as their objects, are also vari ous and contradictory. Covetousness and sensuality, pride and tranquillity, envy and the love of ease, and a thousand jarring passions, maintain a constant fight in THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 38^ the sinner's breast. The means for gratifying these lusts are likewise contrary ; sometimes truth, sometimes falsehood, sometimes indolence, sometimes action and labor are necessary. In these things there is no unity of design, nor consistency of means ; but the sinner is properly distracted, drawn this way and that, tossed from wave to wave ; and there is no steadiness or uni- formity in his pursuits. But the work of salvation is one, the means and the end correspond, and the means are consistent one with another ; and therefore the whole, though consisting of many parts, may be said to be one. It may also be called the one thing needful, to inti- mate that this is needful above all other things. It is a common form of speech to say of that which is neces- sary above all other things, that it is the one or only thing necessary : so we may understand this passage. There are what we call the real necessaries of life ; such as food and raiment ; there are also necessary call- ings and necessary labors. All these are necessary in a lower sense ; necessary in their proper place. But in comparison of the great work of our salvation, they are all unnecessary ; if we be but saved, we may do very well without them all. This is so necessary, that no- thing else deserves to be called necessary in comparison of i?. This shows you also, not only w^iy this is called one thing, but why or in what sense it is said to be necessa- ry. It is of absolute and incomparable necessity. There is no absolute necessity to our happiness that we should be rich or honorable ; nay, there is no absolute necessi- ty to our happiness that we should live in this world at all, for we may live infinitely more happy in another. And if life itself be not absolutely necessary, then much less are food, or raiment, or health, or any of those things which in a lower sense we call the necessaries of life. In comparison of this, they are all needless. I add farther, this one thing may be said to be necessary, because it is necessary always, or for ever. The neces- saries of this life we cannot want long, for we must soon remove into a world where there is no room for them ; but holiness and salvation we shall find needful always : needful under the calamities of life j needful in 33* 390 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. the agonies of death : needful in the world of spirits j needful millions of ages hence ; needful to all eternity j and without it Ave are eternally undone. This is a ne- cessity indeed ! a necessity, in comparison of which all other necessaries are but superfluities. I hope by this short explication I have cleared the way through your understandings to your hearts, and to your hearts I would nov/ address myself. However solemnly I may speak upon this interesting subject, you will have more reason to blame me for the deficiency, than for the excess of my zeal and solemnity. I hope I have entered this sacred place to-day with a sincere desire to do some service to your immortal souls before I leave it. And may I not hope you have come here with a desire to receive some advantage 1 If not, you may number this seeming act of religion among the sins of your life ; you have come here to-day to sin away these sacred hours in hypocrisy, and a profane mockery of the great God. But if you are willing to receive any benefit, hear attentively : hear, that your souls may live, My first request to you is,* that you would make this passage the test of your characters, and seriously inquire whether you have lived in the v/orld as those that really and practically believe that this is the one thing of abso- lute necessity. Are not all the joys of heaven and your immortal souls worth the little pains of seriously putting this short question to your consciences 1 Eeview your life, look into your hearts, and inquire, has this one thing lain more upon your hearts than all other things together 1 Has this been, above all other things, the object of your most vehement desires, your most earnest endeavors, and eager pursuit '? I do not ask whether you have heard or read that this one thing is necessary, or whether you have sometimes talked about it. I do not ask whether you have paid to God the compliment of appearing in his house once a week, or of performing him a little lip-service morning and evening in your families, or in your closets, after you have served your- * Many of llip followiiitr sentiments, ns to the substance of them, are borrowed from Mr. Baxter's excellent discourse, entitled a sai>t or a BRUTE ; and I know no bettrr pattern for a minister to follow in his ad- dress to sinners, than thai flaming and successful preacher. THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 391 selves and the world all the rest of your time, without one affectionate thought of God. Nor do I inquire whether in a pang of horror after the commission of some gross sin, you have tried to make your conscience easy by a few prayers and tears, of which you form an opiate to cast you ao^ain into a dead sleep in sm ; I do not ask whether you liave performed many actions that are materially good, and abstained from many sins. All this you may have done, and yet have neglected the one thing needful all your lives. But I ask you, whether this one thing needful has been habitually uppermost in your hearts, the favorite object of your desires, the prize of your most vigorous endeavors, the supreme happiness of your souls, and the principal object of your concern above all things in the world \ Sirs, you may now hear this question witli stupid unconcern and indifferency ; but I must tell you, you will find, another day, how much depends upon it. In that day it will be found, that the main difference between true Christians and the various classes of sin- ners is this : — God, Christ, holiness, and the concerns of eternity, are habitually uppermost in the hearts of the former ; but, to the latter, they are generally but things by the by ; and the world engrosses the vigor of their souls, and is the principal concern of their lives. To serve God, to obtain his favor, and to be happy for ever in his love, is the main business of the saint, to which all the concerns of the world and the flesh must give way ; but to live in ease, in reputation, in pleasure, or riches, or to gratify himself in the pursuit and enjoy- ment of some created good, this is the main concern of the sinner. The one has made a hearty resignation of himself, and all that he is and has, to God, through Jesus Christ : he serves him with the best, and thinks nothing too good for him. But the other has his ex- ceptions and reserves : he will serve God willingly, provided it may consist with his ease, and pleasure, and temporal interest ; he will serve God with a bended knee, and the external forms of devotion ; but, with the vigor of his spirit, he serves the world and his flesh. This is the grand difference between a true Christian and the various forms of half-Christians and hypocrites And certainly this is a difference that may be di v n<';\ 392 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. The tenor of a man' s practice, and the ohject of his love, especially of his highest love and practical esteem, must certainly be very distinguishable from a thing by the by, and from the object of a languid passion, or mere speculation. Therefore, if you make but an im- partial trial, you have reason to hope you will make a just discovery of your true character ; or if you cannot make the discovery yourselves, call in the assistance of others. Ask not your worldly and sensual neighbors, for they are but poor judges, and they will flatter you in self-defence ; but ask your pious friends whether you have spoke and acted like persons that practically made this the one thing needful. They can tell you what subject you talked most seriously about, what pursuit seemed to lie most upon your hearts, and chiefly to ex- haust your activity. Brethren, I beseech you, by one means or other, to bring this matter to an issue, and let it hang in suspense no longer. Why are you so in- difl^erent how this matter stands with you 1 Is it because you imagine you may be true Christians, and obtain salvation, however this matter be with you 1 But be not deceived : no man can serve two masters, whose commands are contrary ; and ye cannot serve God and mammon^ with a service equally devoted to both. If any man love the world^ with supreme affection, the love of the Father is not in him. 1 John ii. 15. Be not de- ceived^ God is not mocked ; whatsoever a man soweth^ that shall he reap ; if you sow to the flesh, of the flesh you shall reap corruption : A miserable harvest indeed ! But if you sow to the Spirit, you shall of the Spirit reap ever- lasting life. Gal. vi. 7, 8. Therefore you may be sure that if yov live after the flesh, you shall die ; and that you can never enjoy the one thing needful unless you mind and pursue it above all other things. But I shall not urge you any farther to try yourselves by this test. 1 take it for granted the consciences of some of you have determined the matter, and that you are plainly convicted of having hitherto neglected the one thing needful. Allow me then honestly to expose your conduct in its proper colors, and tell you what you have been doing while you were busy about other things, and neglecting this one thing needful. 1. However well you have improved your time for THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 393 Other purposes, you have lost it all, unless you have im- proved it in securing the one thing needful. The proper notion of time is, that it is a space for repentance. Time is given us to prepare for eternity. If this is done, we have lived long enough, and the great end of time and life is answered, v*hatever else be undone. But if this be undone, you have lived in vain, and all your time is lost, however busily and successfully you have pur- sued other things. Though you have studied yourselves pale, to furnish your minds with knowledge ; though you have spent the night and the day in heaping up riches, or climbing up to the pinacle of honor, and not lost an hour that might be turned to your advantage, yet you have been most wretchedly fooling away your time, and lost it all, if you have not laid it out in securing the one thing needful. And, believe me, time is a precious thing. So it will appear in a dying hour, or in the eter- nal world, to the greatest spendthrift among you. Then, O for a year, or even a week, or a day, to secure that one thing which you are now neglecting ! And will you now waste your time, while you enjoy it! Shall so precious a blessing be lost ! By this calculation, how many days, how many years, have you lost for ever % For is not that lost which is spent in crossing the end for which it was given you ] Time was given you to secure an eternitjr of happiness, but you have spent it m adding sin to sin, and consequently in treasuring up wrath against the day of wrath. And is not your time then a thousand times worse than lost 1 Let me tell you, if you continue in this course to the end, you will wish a thousand times, either that you had never had one hour's time given you, or that you had made a bet- ter use of it. 2. Whatever else you have been doing, you have lost your labor with your time, if you have not labored above all things for this one thing needful. No doubt you have been busy about something all your hfe ; but you might as well have been idle ; you have been busy in doing nothing. You have perhaps toiled through many anxious and laborious days, and your nights have shared in the anxieties and labors of your days. But if you have not labored for the one thing necessary, all your labor and all the fruits of it are lost. Indeed God S94 IHE ONE THING NEEDFUL. may bai'e made use of you for the good of his church, or of your country, as we make use of thorns and briers to stop a breach, or of useless wood for firing to warm our families ; but as to any lasting and solid advantage to yourselves, all your labor has been lost. But this is not all. Not only your secular labor is lost, but all your toil and pains, if you have used any in the duties of religion, they are lost likewise. Your reading, hearing, praying, and communicating ; all your serious thoughts of death and eternity, all your struggles with particular lusts and temptations, all the kind offices you have done to mankind, all are lost, since you have performed them by halves with a lukewarm heart, and have not made the one thing needful your great business and pursuit. All these things will not save you ; and what is that religion good for which will not save your souls % What do those religious endeavors avail which will suffer you to fall into hell after all 1 Certainly such rehgion is vam. And now, my hearers, do you believe this, or do you not 1 If you do, will you, dare you still go on in the same course 1 If you do not believe it, let me reason the matter Avith you a little. You will not believe that all the labor and pains you have taken all your life have been quite lost : no, you now enjoy the fruits of them. But show me now, if you can, what you have gotten by all that stir you have made, that will follow one step beyond the grave, or that you can call your own to- morrow 1 Where is that sure immortal acquisition that you can carry with you into the eternal world 1 Were you to die this hour, would it afford you any pleasure to reflect that you have lived a merry life, and had a satiety of sensual pleasures, or that you have labored for riches and honors, and perhaps acquired them 1 Will this reflection afford you pleasure or pain 1 Will this abate tlie agony of eternal pain, or make up for the loss of heaven, which you wilfully incurred by an over- eager pursuit of these perishing vanities 1 Do you not see the extravagant folly, the distracted frenzy of such a conduct 1 Alas ! while you are neglect- ing the one thing needful, what are you doing but spend- ing your time and labor in laborious idleness, honorably debasing yourselves, delightfully tormenting yourselves, •lI.E 0\E THING WEEDFUL. 395 wisely befooling- yourselves, and frugally impoverishing and ruining yourselves for everl A child or an idiot riding upon a staff, building their mimic houses, or play- ing with a feather, are not so foolish as you in your conduct, while you are so seriously pursuing the affairs of time, and neglecting those of eternity. But, 3. This is not all : all your labor and pains have not only been lost Avhile you have neglected this one thing, but you have taken pains to ruin yourselves, and labored hard all your lives for your own destruction. To this you will immediately answer, " God forbid that we should do any thing to hurt ourselves ; we were far from having any such design." But the question is not, what was your design] but, what is the unavoidable conse- quence of your conduct, according to the nature of things, and the unchangeable constitution of heaven 1 Whatever you design in going on in sin, the wages of sin is death, eternal death. You may indulge the carnal mind, and walk after the flesh, and yet hope no bad con- sequence w411 follow : but God has told you that to be carnally minded is death, and that if you live after the flesh you shall die. The robber on the highway has no design to be hanged ; but this does not render him a jot safer. Therefore, design what you will, it is certain you are positively destroying yourselves while your la- bors about other things hinder you from pursuing the one thing needful. And does not this thought shock you, that you should be acting the part of enemies against yourselves, the most pernicious and deadly ene- mies to yourselves in the whole universe l No enemy in the whole universe could do you that injury without your consent which you are doing to yourselves. To tempt you to sii. i.^ all the devil can do ; but the tempta- tion alone can do you no injury ; it is consenting to it that ruins you ; and this consent is your own voluntary act. All tiie devils in hell could not force you to sin without your consent, and therefore all the devils in hell do not injure you as you do yourselves. God has not given them so much power over you as he has given you over yourselves; and this power you abuse to your own destruction. O ! in what a distracted state is the world of the un- godly ! If any other men be their enemy, how do they 396 THE ONE THING ISEEDfUL. resent it ! But they are their own worst enemies, and yet never fall out w4th themselves. If another occasion them a disappointment in their pursuits, defraud them of an expected good, or lay schemes to make them mis- erable, what sullen grudge, what keen revenge, what flaming resentments immediately rise in their breasts against him ! And yet they are all their lives disinher- iting themselves of the heavenly inheritance, laying a train to blow up all their own hopes, and heaping a mountain of guilt upon themselves to sink them into the bottomless pit : and all this while they think they are the best friends to themselves, and consulting their own interest. As for the devil, the common enemy of man- kind, they abhor him, and bless themselves from him ; but they are w^orse to themselves than devils, and yet never fall out with themselves for it. This, sinners, may seem a harsh representation of your conduct, but, alas ! it is true. And if it be so shocking to you to hear it, what must it be to be guilty of it ! And, 0 ! think what must be the consequences of such a conduct, such unnatural suicide ! 4. If you have hitherto neglected the one thing need- ful, you have unmanned yourselves, acted beneath and contrary to your own reason, and in plain terms be- haved as if you had been out of your senses. If you have the use of your reason, it must certainly tell you for what it was given to you. And I beseech you tell me what was it given to you for but to serve the God that made you, to secure his favor, to prepare for your eternal state, and to enjoy the supreme good as your portion '{ Can you once think your reason, that divinoe particula aurcB, was given you for such low purposes as the contrivances, labor, and pursuits of this vain life, and to make you a more ingenious sort of brutes \ He was master of an unusual share of reason who said, " There is very little difference between having reason and having none, if we had nothing to do with it but cunningly to lay up for our food, and make provision for this corrupt- ible flesh, and had not another life to mind." There- fore I may safely affirm that you have cast away your reason, and acted as if you were out of your wits, if you have not employed your rational powers in the pur- suit of the one thing needful. Where was your reason THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 397 when your dying flesh was preferred to your immortal spirits] Was reason your guide when you chose the trash of this perishing world, and sought it more than the favor of God and all the joys of heaven 1 Can you pretend to common sense, when you might have had the pardon of sin, sanctifying grace, and a title to heaven secured to you ere now ? But you have neglected all, and instead of having a sure title to heaven, or beino- prepared for it, you are fitted for destruction, and noth- ing else ; and are only awaiting for a fever or a flux, or some other executioner of divine vengeance, to cut the thread of life, and let you sink to hell by your own weight. Thither you gravitate under the load of sin as naturally as a stone to the centre ; and you need no other weight to sink you down. What have you done all your life to make a wise man think you truly reason- able 1 Is that your reason, to be wise to do evil, while to do good you have no knowledge j or to be ingenious and active about the trifles of time, while you neglect that great work for which you were created and re- deemed I Can you be wise and yet not consider your latter endl Nay, can you pretend to so much as com- mon sense, while you sell your eternal salvation for the sordid pleasures of a few flying years 1 Have you com- mon sense, when you will not keep yourselves out of everlasting fire \ What can a madman do worse than wilfully destroy himself 1 And this you are doing every day. And yet these very persons are proud of their mad- ness, and are apt to fling the charge of folly upon others, especially if they observe some poor weak creatures, though it be but one in five hundred, fall into melan- choly, or lose their reason for a time, while they are groaning under a sense of sin, and anxious about their eternal state ; then what a clamor against religion and preciseness, as the ready way to make people run mad! then they even dare to publish their resolution that they will not read and pore so much upon these things, lest it should drive them out of their senses. O miserable mortals ! is it possible they should be more dangerously mad than they are already 1 Do you lay out your rea- son, your strength, and time in pursuing vain shadows, and in feeding a mortal body for the grave, while the 34 398 THE ONE THir^G NEEDFUL. important realities of the eternal world, and the salva- tion of your immortal souls are forgotten or neglect- ed 1 Do you sell your Savior with Judas for a little money, and change your part in God and heaven for the sordid pleasures of sin, which are hut for a season 1 and are you afraid of seriously reflecting upon this course, that you may reform it, for fear such thoughts should make you mad 1 What greater madness than this can you fear % Will you run from God, from Christ, from mercy, from the saints, from heaven itself, for fear of being mad 1 Alas ! you are mad in the worst sense already. Will you run to hell to prove yourselves in your senses 1 He was a wise and good man who said, '' Though the loss of a man's understanding is a griev- ous afiiiction, and such as I hope God will never lay upon me, yet I had a thousand times rather go distract- ed to Bedlam with the excessive care about my salva- tion, than to be one of you that cast av/ay the care of your salvation for fear of being distracted, and will go among the infernal Bedlams into hell for fear of being mad." Distraction in itself is not a moral evil, but a physical, like those disorders of the body from which it often proceeds, and therefore is no object for punish- ment ; and had you no capacity of understanding you would have a cloak for your sin ; but your madness is your crime, because it is voluntary, and therefore you must give an account for it to the Supreme Judge. It would be easy to offer many more considerations to expose the absurdity and danger of your conduct in neglecting the one thing necessary ; but these must suf- fice for the present hour. And I only desire you to consider farther, if this be a just view of the conduct of such as are guilty of this neglect, in what a miserable, oitiable condition is the world in general. I have so often tried the utmost energy of my words upon you (vith so little success as to many, that I am quite gro\ATi (veary of them. Allow me therefore for once to borrow Aie more striking and pungent words of one now in Aeaven ; of one who had more success than almost any jf his contemporaries or successors in the important \vork of " converting sinners from the error of their way and saving souls from death :" I mean that incomparable preacher, Mr. Baxter, who sowed an immortal seed in THE ONE TIILNG NEEDFUL. 399 his parish of Kidderminster, which grows and brings forth fruit to this day. His words have, through the di- vine blessing, been irresistible to thousands 5 and 0 that such of you, my dear hearers, whose hearts may have been proof against mine, may not be so against his also! "Look upon this text of scripture," says he, "and look also upon the course of the earth, and consider of the disagreement ; and whether it be not still as before the flood, that " all the imaginations of man's heart are evil continually." Gen. vi. 5. Were it possible for a man to see the affections and motions of all the world at once, as God seeth them, what a pitiful sight it would be ! What a stir do they make, alas, poor souls ! for they know not what ! while they forget, or slight, or hate the one thing needful. What a heap of gadding ants should we see, that do nothing but gather sticks and straws! Look among persons of every rank, in city and country, and look into families about you, and see what trade it is they are most busily driving on, wheth- er it be for heaven or earth ! And whether you can dis- cern by their care and labors that they understand what is the one thing necessary ! They are as busy as bees ; but not for honey, but in spinning such a spider's web as the besom of death will presently sweep down. Job viii. 14. They labor hard, but for what 1 For the food that perisheth^ but not for that which endureth to everlast- ing life. John vi. 27. They are diligent seekers ; but for what % Not first for God, his kingdom and riglit- eousness, but for that which they might have had as an addition to their blessedness. Matt. vi. 33. They are still doing; what are they doing 1 Even undoing themselves by running away from God, to hunt after the perishing pleasures of the world. Instead of provi- ding for the life to come, they are making provisioji for the flesh to fulfil its lusts. Rom. xiii. 14. Some of them hear the word of God, but presently choke it l>y the dc- ceitfulness of riches, and the cares of this life Luke viii. 14. They arc careful and troubled about many things; but the one thing that should be all to them is cast by as if it were nothing. Providing for the flesh and mind- mg the world is the employment of their lives. They labor with a canine appetite for their trash ; but to ho- 400 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. iiness they have no appetite, and are worse than indif- ferent to the things that are indeed desirable. They have no covetousness for the things which they are commanded earnestly to covet. 1 Cor. xii. 31. They have so little hunger and thirst after righteousness, that a very little or none will satisfy them. Here they are pleading always for moderation, and against too much, and too earnest, and too long ; and all is too much with them that is above stark naught, or dead hypocrisy ; and all is too earnest and too long that would make religion seem a business, or engage them to seem serious in their own profession, or put them past jest in the worship of God and the matters of their salvation. Let but their children or servants neglect their worldly business, (which I confess they should not do,) and they shall hear of it with both their ears ; but if they sin against God, or neglect his word or worship, they shall meet with more patience than Eli's son did : a cold reproof is usually the most ; and it is well if they be not encouraged in their sin ; it is well if a child or servant that beigns to be seri- ous for salvation be not rebuked, derided, and hindered by them. If on their days of labor they oversleep themselves, they shall be sure to be called up to work, (and good reason,) but when do they call them up to prayer 1 when do they urge them to consider or converse upon the things that concern their everlasting life \ The Lord's own day, which is appointed to be set apart for matters of this nature, is wasted in idleness or worldly talk Come at any time into their company and you may talk enough, and too much of news, or other men's matters, of their worldly business, sports, and pleasures, but about God and their salvation they have so little to say, and that so heartlessly, and by-the-by, as if they were things that belonged not to their care and duty, and no whit concerned them. Talk with them about the reno- vation of the soul, the nature of holiness, and the life to come, and you will find them almost as dumb as a fish. The most understand not matters of this nature, nor much desire or care to understand them. If one would teach them personally, they are too old to be cat- echised or to learn, though not too old to be ignorant of the matters they were made for and preserved for in the world. They are too wise to learn to be wise, and too THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 4-01 good to be taught how to be good, though not too wise to follow the seducements of the devil and the world, nor too good to be the slaves of Satan and the despisers and enemies of goodness. If they do anything which they call serving God, it is some cold and heartless use of words to make themselves believe that for all their sins they shall be saved ; so that God will call that a serving their sins and abominations, which they will call a serv- ing of God. Some of them will confess that holiness is good, but they hope God will be merciful to them with- out it ; and some do so hate it, that it is a displeasing irksome thing to them to hear any serious discourse of holiness ; and they detest and deride those as fanatical, troublesome precisians that diligently seek the one thing necessary : so that if the belief of the most may be judg- ed by their practices, we may confidently say, that they do not practically believe that ever they should be brought to judgment, or that there is any heaven or hell to be expected 5 and that their confession of the truth of the scriptures and the articles of the Christian faith are no proofs that they heartily take them to be true. Who can be such a stranger to the Avorld as not to see that this is the case of the greatest part of men ] And, which is worst of all, they go on in this course against all that can be said to them, and will give no impartial, considerate hearing to the truth, which would recover them to their wits, but live as if it would be a felicity to them in hell to think that they came thither by Avilful resolution, and in despite of the remedy." This, sinners, is a true representation of your case, drawn by one that well knew it and lamented it. And what do you now think of it yourselves \ What do you think will be the consequence of such a course 1 Is it safe to persist in it 1 or shall 1 be so happy as to bring you to a stand 1 Will you still go on, troubling your- selves with many things 1 or will you resolve for the future to mind the one thing needful above all 1 I be- seech you to come to some resolution. Time is on the wing, and does not allow you to hesitate in so plain and important an affair. Do you need any farther ex- citements \ Then I shall try the force of one conside- ration more contained in my text, and that is Necessity. Remember necessity, the most pressing, absolute ne- 34* •i02 -THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. cessity, enforces this care upon you. One thing is need- ful, absolutely needful, and needful above all other things. This, one would think, is such an argument as cannot but prevail. What exploits has necessity performed in the world ! What arts has it discovered as the mother of invention ! what labors, what fatigues, what sufferings has it undergone ! What dangers has it encountered ! What difficulties has it overcome ! Necessity is a p.lca which you think will warrant you to do anything and excuse anything. Reasoning against necessity is but reasoning against a hurricane ; it bears all before it. To obtain the necessaries of life, as they are called, how much will men do and suffer ! Nay, with what hard- ships and perils will they not conflict for things that they imagine necessary, not to their life but to their ease, their honor, or pleasure ! But what is this necessity when compared to that which I am now urging upon you 1 In comparison of this, the most necessary of those things are but superfluities ; for if your ease, or honor, or pleasure, or even your life in this world be not absolutely necessary, as they cannot be to the heirs of immortality, then certainly those things which you ima- gine necessary to your ease, your honor, your pleasure, or mortal life, are still less necessary. But O ! to escape everlasting misery, and to secure everlasting salvation, this is the grand necessity ! This will appear necessary in every point of your immortal duration ; necessary when you have done with this world for ever, and must leave all its cares, enjoyments, and pursuits behind you. And shall not this grand necessity prevail upon you to work out your salvation, and make that your great busi- ness, when a far less necessity, a necessity that will last but a few years at most, set you and the world around you upon such hard labors and eager pursuits for perish- ing vanities 1 All the necessity in the world is nothing in comparison of that which lies upon you to work out your salvation ; and shall this have no weight 1 If you do not labor or contrive for the bread that perisheth, you must beg or starve ; but if you will not labor for the bread that endureth unto everlasting life, you must burn in hell for ever. You must lie in prison if your debts with men be not paid ; but, O ! what is it to the prison of hell, where you must be confined for ever if your debts to the THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 403 justice of God be not remitted, and you do not obtain an interest in the righteousness of Christ, which alone can make satisfaction for them ! You must suffer hunger and nakedness unless you take care to provide food and raiment ; but you must suffer eteternai banishment from God and all the joys of his presence, if you do not la- bor to secure the one thing needful. Without the riches of this world you may be rich in faith, and heirs of the heavenly inheritance. Without earthly pleasures you may have joy unspeakable and full of glory in the love of God, and the expectation of the kingdom reserved in heaven for you. Without health of body you may have happiness of spirit ; and even without this mortal life you may enjoy eternal life. AVithout the things of the world you may live in want for a little while, but then you will soon be upon an equality with the greatest princes. But without this one thing needful you are un- done, absolutely undone. Though you were as rich as Croesus, you " are wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked." Your very being becomes a curse to you. It is your curse that you are a man, a reasonable creature. It had been infinitelj' better for you if you had been a toad or a snake, and so incapable of sin and of immortality, and consequently of punish- ment. 0 then let this grand necessity prevail with you ! I know you have other wants, wdiich you should mo- derately labor to provide for, but O how small and of how short continuance ! If life and all should be lost, you may more than find all in heaven. But if you miss at this one thing, all the world cannot make up the loss Therefore to conclude with the awakening and resist- less w^ords of the author I before quoted, " Awake, you sluggish, careless souls ! your house over your head is in a flame ! the hand of God is lifted up ! If you love yourselves, prevent the stroke. Vengeance is at your Dacks, the wrath of God pursues your sin, and wo to you if he finds it upon you when he overtaketh you. Away with it speedily ! up and begone ; return to God ; make Christ and mercy your friends in time, if you love your lives ! the Judge is coming ! for all that you have heard of it so long, yet still you believe it not. You shall shortly see the majesty of his appearance and the dread- ful glory of his face j and yet do you not begin to look 404 THE 0^E THING NEEDFUL about you, and make ready for such a day 1 Yea, be- fore that day, your separated souls shall begin to reap as you have sowed here. Though now the partition that stands between you and the world to come do keep un- believers strangers to the things that most concern them, yet death will quickly find a portal to let you in * and then, sinners, you will find such doings there as yoi little thought of, or did not sensibly regard upon earth Before your friends will have time enough to wrap up your pale corpse in your winding-sheet, you will see and feel that which will tell you to the quick, that one thing was necessary. If you die without this one thing neces sary, before your friends can have finished your fune- rals, your souls will have taken up their places among devils in endless torments and despair, and all the wealth, and honor, and pleasure that the world aflbrded you will not ease you. This is sad, but it is true. Sirs ; for God hath spoken it. Up therefore and bestir you for the life of your souls. Necessity will awake even the sluggard. Necessity, we say, wiU break through stone walls. The proudest will stoop to necessity : the most slothful will bestir themselves in necessity : the most careless will be industrious in necessity : necessity will make men do any thing that is possible to be done. And is not necessity, the highest necessity, your own necessity, able to make you cast away your sins, and take up a holy and heavenly life 1 O poor souls ! is there a greater necessity for your sin than of your sal- vation, and of pleasing your flesh for a little time than of pleasing the Lord and escaping everlasting misery 1 O that you would consider what I say ! and the Lord give you understanding in all things. Amen. BAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY 405 SERMON XXII. SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY AND THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 1 Pet. IV. 18. — Jlnd if the righteous scarcely be savcdy where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear ? This text may sound in your ears like a message from the dead ; for it is at the request of our deceased friend* that I now insist upon it. He knew so much from the trials he made in life, that if he should be saved at all, it would be with great difficulty, and if he should escape destruction at all, it would be a very narrow escape ; and he also knew so much of this stupid, careless world, that they stood in need of a solemn warning on this head 5 and therefore desired that his death should give occasion to a sermon on this alarming subject. But now the unknown wonders of the invisible world lie open to his eyes ; and now also he can take a full review of his passage through this mortal life ; now he sees the many unsuspected dangers he narrowly escaped, and the many fiery darts of the devil which the shield of faith repelled ; now, like a ship arrived in port, he reviews the rocks and shoals he passed through, many of which lay under water and out of sight ; and therefore now he is more fully acquainted with the difficulty of salvation than ever. And should he now rise and make his ap- pearance in this assembly in the solemn and dread attire of an inhabitant of the world of spirits, and again direct me to a more proper subject, methinks he would still stand to his choice, and propose it to your serious thoughts, that " if the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear V The apostle's principal design in the context seems to be to prepare the Christians for those suffisrings which he saw coming upon them, on account of their religion. "Beloved," says he, "think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you," verse 12, "but • The person was Mr. James Hooper j and the sermon is dated AugusI 21, 1756. 40b' SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, A^'D rejoice inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's suifer* ings :" it is no strange thing that you should suffer on account of your religion in such a wicked world as this, for Christ the founder of your religion met with the same treatment ; and it is enough that the servant be as his master, ver. 13, only he advises them, that if they must suffer, that they did not suffer as malefactors, but onlj' for the name of Christ, ver. 14, 15. " But," says he, " if any man suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed," ver. 16, " for the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God." He seems to have a particular viev/ to the cruel persecution that a little after this was raised against the Christians by the tyrant Nero, and more directly to that which was raised against them everywhere by the seditious Jews, who were the most inveterate enemies of Christianity. The dreadful de- struction of Jerusalem, which was plainly foretold by Christ in the hearing of St. Peter, was now at hand. And from the sufferings which Christians, the favorites of Heaven, endured, he infers how much more dreadful the vengeance would be which should fall upon their ene- mies, the infxdel Jews, If judgment begin at the house of God, his church, what shall be the doom of the camp of rebels 1 If it begin at us Christians who obey the gospel, what shall be the end of them that obey it not '? Alas ! what shall become of them 1 Them that obey not the gospel of God, is a description of the unbelieving Jews, to whom it was peculiarly applicable ; and the apostle may have a primary reference to the dreadful destruction of their city and nation which was much more severe than all the sufferings the persecuted Christians had then endured. But I see no reason for confining the apostle's view entirely to this temporal destruction of the Jews: he seems to refer farther to that still more terrible de- struction that awaits all that obey not the gospel in the eternal world : that is to say, if the children are so se- verely chastised in this world, what shall become of re- bels in the world to come, the proper state of retribu- tion 1 How much more tremendous must be their fate ! In the text he carries on the same reflection. Jf the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear 1 The righteous is the common character of all good men or true Christians j and the imgodly and THE CERTAIN PERDITION 01- SINNERS. 407 sinner are characters which may inckide tlio wicked of all nations and ages. Now, sajs he, " if the rigliteous be but scarcely saved, saved with great diflicufty, just saved, and no more, where shall idolaters and vicious sinners appear, whose characters are so opposite 1" The abrupt and pungent form of expression is ver\ emphatical. Where shall the ungodly and (he simicr ap- pear ? I need not tell you, your own reason will inforn; you : I appeal to yourselves for an answer, for you art all capable of determining upon so plain a case. ' When shall the ungodly and the sinner appear 1 Alas ! it strikes mc dumb with horror to think of it : it is so shocking and terrible that I cannot bear to describe it. Now they are gay, merry, and rich ; but when I look a little for- ward, I see them appear in very difierent circumstances, and the horror of the prospect is hardly supportable. St. Peter here supposes that there is something in the condition and character of a righteous man that renders his salvation comparatively easy ; something from whence we might expect that he will certainly be saved, and that without much difficulty : and, on the other hand, that there is something in the opposite character and condi- tion of the ungodly and the sinner, that gives us reason to conclude that there is no probability at all of their salvation while they continue such. But he asserts that even the righteous, whose salvation seems so likely and comparatively easy, is not saved without great difficulty ; he is just saved, and that is all : what then shall we con- clude of the ungodly and the sinner, whose character gives no ground for favorable expectations at all \ If our hopes are but just accomplished, with regard to the most promising, what shall become of those whose case is evidently hopeless 1 Alas! where shall they appear 1 The method in which I intend to prosecute our subject is this : I. I shall point out the principal difficulties, which even the righteous meet with in the way to salvation. II. 1 shall mention those things in the condition and character of the righteous, which render his salvation so promising and seemingly easy, and then show you that, if with all these favorable and hopeful circumstances he is not saved but with great difficulty and danger, those who are of an opposite character, and whoso con- 408 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND dition is so evidently and apparently desperate, cannot be saved at all. I. I am to point out the principal difficulties which even the righteous meet with in the way to salvation. Here I would premise, that such who have become truly religious, and persevered in the Avay of holiness and virtue to the last, will meet with no difficulty at all to be admitted into the kingdom of heaven. The diffi- culty does not lie here, for the sam.e apostle Peter as- sures us, that if we give all diligence to make our calling a?id election sure^ we shall never fall ; but so an en- trance shall he administered unto us abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ 2 Peter i. 10, 11. But the difficulty lies in this, that, all things considered, it is a very difficult thing to ob- tain, and persevere in real religion in the present corrupt state of things, where we meet with so many temptations and such powerful opposition. Or, in other words, it is difficult in such a world as this to prepare for salvation ; and this renders it difficult to be saved, because we can- not be saved without preparation. It must also be observed, that a religious life is attend- ed with the most pure and solid pleasures even in this world ; and they who choose it act the wisest part with respect to the present state ; they are really the happiest people upon our globe. Yet, were it otherwise, the blessed consequences of a religious life in the eternal world would make amends for all, and recommend such a course, notwithstanding the greatest difficulties and the severest sufferings that might attend it. But notwithstanding this concession, the Christian course is full of hardships, oppositions, trials, and dis- couragements. This we may learn from the metaphor- ical representations of it in the sacred writings, which strongly imply that it is attended with difficulties Avhich require the utmost exertion of all our powers to sur- mount It is called a warfare, 1 Tim. i. 18, fighting, 2 Tim vi. 7. The graces of the Christian, and the means of begetting and cherishing them, are called weapons of war : there is the shield of faith : the hope of salvation, which is the helmet ; the sword of the Spir it which is the word of God, 2 Cor. x. 4, Eph. vi. 13,17 The end of the Christian's course is victory after con THE CEUTAIN PERDITION OF 6INNKKS. 409 fliet, fvev. ii. 7. And Christians are soldiers; and such as must endure hardship:^, 2 Tim. ii. 3. Now a military life you know is a scene of labor, hardships and dan- gers ; and therefore so is the Christian life, which is compared to it in these respects. It is compared to a race, Heb. xii. 1, 2, to wrestling and the other vigorous exercises of the Olympic games, Eph. vi. 12, Luke xiii. 24, to walking in a narrow way. Matt. vii. 14, and enter- ing at the strait gate, Luke xiii. 24. This, my brethren, and this only, is the way to salvation. And is this the way in which you are walking ? Or is it the smooth, easy, downward road to destruction ? You may slide along that without exertion or difficulty, like a dead fish swimming with the stream ; but, O ! look before you, and see whither it leads ! The enemies that oppose our religious progress are the devil, the world, and the flesh. These form a pow- erful alliance against our salvation, and leave no artifice untried to obstruct it. The things of the world, though good in themselves, are temptations to such depraved hearts as ours. Rich- es, honors, pleasure, spread their charms, and tempt us to the pursuit of flying shadows to the neglect of the one thing needful. These engross the thoughts and concerns, the aflTections and labors of multitudes. They engage with such eagerness in an excessive hurry of business and anxious care, or so debauch and stupefy themselves with sensual pleasures, that the voice of God is not heard, the clamors of conscience are drowned, the state of their souls is not inquired into, the interests of eternity are forgotten, the eternal God, the joys of heav- en, and the pains of hell, are cast out of the mind, and disregarded; and they care not for any or all of these important realities, if they can but gratify the lust of avarice, ambition, and sensuality. — And are such likely to perform the arduous work of salvation ? No ; they do not so much as seriously attempt it. Now these things which are fatal to multitudes throw great difficul- ties in the way even of the righteous man. He finds it hard to keep his mind intent upon his great concern in the midst of such labors and cares as he is obliged to engage in ; and frequently he feels his heart estranged from God and ensnared into the ways of sin, his devo- 410 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND tion cooled, and his whole soul disordered by these al- lurements. In short, he finds it one of the hardest things in the world to maintain a heavenly mind in such an earthly region, a spiritual temper, among so many car- nal objects. The men of this world also increase his difficulties. Their vain, trifling, or wacked conversation, their ensnar- ing examples, their persuasions, false reasonings, re- proaches, menaces, and all their arts of flattery and ter- ror, have sometimes a very sensible effect upon him. These would draw him into some guilty compliances, damp his courage, and tempt him to apostatize, were he not always upon his guard ; and sometimes in an inad- vertent hour he feels their fatal influence upon him. As for the generality, they yield themselves up to these temptations, and make little or no resistance ; and thus are carried dowai the stream into the infernal pit. Alas ! how many ruin themselves through a base, unmanly complaisance, and servile conformity to the mode ! Be- lieve it. Sirs, to be fashionably religious and no more, is to be really irreligious in the sight of God. The way of the multitude may seem easy, pleasant and sociable ; but, alas, my brethren, see where it ends ; it leadeth down into destruction. Matt. vii. 14. But, in the next place, the greatest difficulty in our way arises from the corruption and wickedness of our own hearts. This is an enemy within ; and it is this that betrays us into the hands of our enemies without. When we turn our eyes to this quarter, what vast diffi- culties rise in our way ! difficulties which are impossible- to us, unless the almighty power enables us to sur- mount them. Such are a blind mind, ignorant of divine things, or that speculates only upon them, but does not see their reality and dread importance ; a mind empty of God and full of the lumber and vanities of this world. Such are a hard heart, insensible of sin, insensible of the glory of God, and the beauties of holiness, and the infinite moment of eternal things. Such arc a heart dis- aflfected to God and his service, bent upon sin, and im- patient of restraint. Such are wild, unruly passions thrown into a ferment by every trifle, raised by vanities, erroneous in the choice of objects, irregular in their mo- tions, and extravagant in the degree of attachment. THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 411 Such difficulties are strong, ungovernable lusts and ap- petites in animal nature, eager for gratification, and turbulent under restraint. And how strangely does this inward corruption indispose men for religion ! Ilence their ignorance, their security, carelessness, presumptu- ous hopes, and impenitence. Hence their unwillingness to admit conviction, their resistance to the Holy Spirit and their contempt of the gospel, their disregard to all religious instructions, their neglect of the means of grace, and the ordinances of Christ, or their careless, formal, lukewarm attendance upon them. Hence their earthly- mindedness, their sensuality, and excessive love of ani- mal pleasures. Hence it is so difficult to awaken them to a just sense of their spiritual condition, and to suita- ble earnestness in their religious endeavors : and hence their fickleness and inconstancy, their relapses and back- slidings, when they have been a little alarmed. Hence it is so difficult to bring their religious impressions to a right issue, and to lead them to Jesus Christ as the only Saviour. In short, hence it is that so many thousands perish amidst the means of salvation. These difficulties prove eventually insuperable to the generality ; and they never surmount them. But even the righteous, who is daily conquering them by the aid of divine grace, and will at last be more than a conqueror, he still finds many hinderances and discouragements from this quarter. The remains of these innate corruptions still cleave to him in the present state, and these render his progress heav- enward so slow and heavy. These render his life a con- stant warfare, and he is obliged to fight his way through. These frequently check the aspirations of his soul to God, cool his devotion, damp his courage, ensnare his thoughts and affections to things below, and expose him to the successful attacks of temptation. Alas ! it is his innate corruption that involves him in darkness and jeal- ousies, in tears and terrors, after hours of spiritual light, joy and confidence. It is this that banishes him from the comfortable presence of his God, and causes him to go mourning without the light of his countenance. Were it not for this, he would glide along through life easy and unmolested ; he would find the ways of religion to be ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace. In short, it is this that lies upon his heart as the heaviest 412 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULT i', AND burden, and renders his course so rugged and danger- ous. And such of you as do not know this by experi- ence, know nothing at all of true experimental Chris- tianity. Finally, the devil and his angels are active, powerful and artful enemies to our salvation : their agency is often unperceived, but it is insinuating, unsuspected, and therefore the more dangerous and successful. These malignant spirits present ensnaring images to the imagi- nation, and no doubt blow the flame of passion and ap- petite. They labor to banish serious thoughts from the mind, and entertain it with trifles. They give force to the attacks of temptations from the world, and raise and foment insurrections of sin within. And if they cannot hinder the righteous man from entering upon a religious course, or divert him from it, they will at least render it as difficult, laborious, and uncomfortable to him as possi- ble. See, my brethren, see the way in which you must walk if you would enter into the kingdom of heaven. In this rugged road they have all walked who are now safe arrived at their journey's end, the land of rest. They were saved, but it was with great difficulty : they escaped the fatal rocks and shoals, but it was a very narrow escape ; and methinks it is with a kind of pleas- ing horror they now review the numerous dangers through which they passed, many of which they did not perhaps suspect till they were over.* And is this the way in which you are walking? Is your religion a course of watchfulness, labor, conflict, and vigorous ex- ertion ? Are you indeed in earnest in it above all things in this world ? Or are not many of you lukewarm Lao- diceans and indifferent Gallios about these things'? If your religion (if it may be so called) is a course of se- curity, carelessness, sloth and formality — alas ! if all the vigor and exertion of the righteous man be but just * There on a green^nd flowery mount, Their weary souls now sit ; And with transporting joys recount The labors of their feet. Eternal glories to tiie King That brought them safely through Their lips shall never cease to sing, And endless praise renew. THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 413 sufficient for his salvation, where, O ^vhero shall you ap- pear 1 Which leads me, II. To mention those things in the character and condi- tion of the righteous, which render his salvation so prom- ising and seemingly easy, and then show, that if with all those hopeful circumstances he shall not he saved hut with great difficulty, that they, whose character is directly oppo- site, and has nothing encouraging iu it, cannot possibly ho saved at all. And this head I shall cast into such a form as to exemplify the text. 1. If those "that abstain from immorality and vice be but scarcely saved, where shall the vicious, profligate sin- ner appear 1 It is the habitual character of a righteous man to be temperate and sober, chaste, just, and charitable ; to re- vere the name of God, and everything sacred, and re- ligiously observe the holy hours devoted to the service of God. This is always an essential part of his charac- ter, though not the whole of it. Now such a man looks promising ; he evidently appears so far prepared for the heavenly state, because he is so far conformed to the law of God, and free from those enormities which are never found in the region of happiness. And if such shall scarcely be saved, where shall those of the oppo- site character appear ? Where shall the brute of a drunkard, the audacious swearer, the scoffer at religion, the unclean, lecherous wretch, the liar, the defrauder, the thief, the extortioner, the Sabbath-breaker, the rev- eller, where shall these appear? Are these likely to stand in the congregation of the righteous, or to appear in the presence of God with joy? Is there the least likelihood that such shall be saved 1 If you will regard the authority of an inspired apostle in the case, I can direct you to those places where you may find his ex- press determination. 1. Cor. vi. 9, 10. " Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God 1 Be not deceived ; neither fornicators, nor adul- terers, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God." So Gal. V. 19 — 21. "The works of the flesh arc manifest, which are these — adultery, fornication, uncloanncss, las- civiousness, hatred, variance, emulations, wratli, strife, 35* 414 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND heresies, seditions, envyinjrs, revellings, and such like, of the which I tell you before ;" that is, I honestly fore- warn you, as I have also told you in time past, that they v/ho do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. Rev. xxi. 8. " The fearful, (that is, the cowardly in the cause of religion,) the unbelieving, and the abom- inable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake that burneth with fire and brimstone." You see, my brethren, the declarations of the scripture are express enough and repeated on this point. And are there not some of you here who in- dulge yourselves in one or other of these vices, and yet hope to be saved in that course ? that is, you hope your Bible and your religion too are false ; for it is only on that supposition that your hope of salvation can be ac- complished. Alas ! will you venture your eternal all upon the truth of such a blasphemous supposition as this ? But, 2. If those that conscientiously perform the duties of religion be scarcely saved, where shall the neglecters of them appear ? The righteous are characterized as persons that hon- estly endeavor to perform all the duties they owe to God. They devoutly read and hear his word, and make divine things their study ; they are no strangers to the throne of grace ; they live a life of prayer in their retire- ments, and in a social capacity. They make their fami- lies little churches, in which divine worship is solemnly performed. Let others do as they will ; as for them and their houses, like Joshua, they will serve the Lord : Josh, xxiv. 15. They gratefully commemorate the sufferings of Christ, and give themselves up to him at his table ; and seriously improve all the ordinances of the gospel. In short, like Zacharias and Elizabeth, they ivalk in all the statutes and ordinances of God^ blameless : Luke i. 6. This is their prevailing and habitual character. And there is something in this character that gives reason to presume they will be saved : for they have now a relish for the service of God, in which the happiness of heaven consists : they are training up in the humble forms of devotion in the church below, for the more exalted em- ployments of the church triumphant on high. Now if persons of this cluiracter are but scarcely saved, where THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 415 sliall the ungodly arppear^ who persist in the wilful neglect of these known duties of religion ? Can they be saved who do not so much as use the means of salvation ? Can those who do not study their Bible, the only direc- tory to eternal life, expect to find the way thither ? Can prayerless souls receive answers to prayer? Will all the bliss of heaven be throwni away upon such as do not think it worth their while importunately to ask itl Are they likely to be admitted into the general assembly and church of the first-born in heaven, who do not endeavor to make their families little circles of religion here upon earth? In a word, are they likely to join forever in the devotions of the heavenly state, who do not accustom themselves to these sacred exercises in this preparatory state ? Will you venture your souls upon it that you shall be saved, notwithstanding these improbabiliiies, or rather impossibilities ? Alas ! are there any of you that have no better hopes of heaven than these ? Where then will you appear ? 3. If they that are more than externally moral and relig- ious in their conduct, that have been born again, created in Christ Jesus to good works, as every man that is truly righteous has been ; if such, I say, be but scarcely saved, where shall they appear who rest in their mere outward morality, their proud self-righteous virtue, and their re- ligious formalities, and have never been made new crea- tures, never had the inward principles of action changed by the power of God, and the inbred disorders of the heart rectified ? Where shall they appear who have no- thing but a self sprung religion, the genuine offspring of degenerate nature, and never had a supernatural prin- ciple of grace implanted in their souls ? Has that solemn asseveration of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, lost all its force, and become falsehood in our age and country ? " Verily, verily, I say unto thee, except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of heav- en :" John iii. 3. Is there no weight in such apostolic declarations as these ? " If any man be in Christ he is a new creature ; old things are passed away, and behold all things are become new ; and all these new things are of God :" 2 Cor. v. 17. " Neither circumcision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision:" Gal. vi. 15: that is to say, a conformity to the rituals of the Jewish or Chris- 416 tian religion availeth nothing, but the new creature. Can men flatter themselves they shall be saved by the Christian religion, in opposition to these plain, strong, and repeated declarations of the Christian revelation? And yet, are there not many here who are entirely igno- rant of this renovation of the temper of their mind, of this inward heaven- born religion ? 4. If they that are striving to enter in at the strait gate, and pressing into the kingdom of heaven, do but just obtain admission ; if they who forget the things that are behind, and reach after those that are before them, and press with all their might towards the goal, do scarcely obtain the prize, what shall become of those lukewarm, careless, formal, presumptuous professors of Christianity who are so numerous among us ? Where shall they appear who have but a form of godliness 2oitk- out the power, 2 Tim. iii. 5 ; and have no spiritual life in their religion, but only a name to live? Rev. iii. 1. If those whose hearts are habitually solicitous about their eternal state, who labor in earnest for the immortal bread, who pray with unutterable groans, Rom. viii, 26; who, in short, make the care of their souls the principal busi- ness of their life, and in some measure proportion their industry and earnestness to the importance and difficulty of the work ; if such are but scarcely saved, with all their labor and pains, where shall they appear who are at ease in Zion, Amos vi. 1, whose religion is but a mere indifferency, a thing by the by with them ? If we cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven unless our righteousness exceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees, Matt. V. 20, where shall they appear whose righteous- ness is far short of theirs ? And are there not many such in this assembly? Alas! my brethren, where do you expect to appear 1 5. If they that have believed in Jesus Christ, which is the grand condition of salvation, be but scarcely saved, where shall the unbeliever appear 1 Faith in Christ is an essential ingredient in the char- acter of a righteous man ; and faith cannot be implanted in our hearts till we have been made deeply sensible of our sins, of our condemnation by the law of God, and our utter inability to procure pardon and salvation by the merit of our repentance, reformation, or anything THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF SINNERS. 417 we can do. And when we arc reduced to this extremity, then we shall listen with eager ears to the proposal of a Savior. And when we see his glory and sufliciency, and cast our guilty souls upon him, uhen we submit to his commands, depend entirely upon his atonement, and give up ourselves to God through him, then we believe. Now, if they who thus believe, to whom salva- tion is so often ensured, be not saved but with great dif- ficulty, where shall those appear who never have ex- perienced those exercises which are the antecedents or constituents of saving faith? who have never seen their own guilt and helplessness in an affecting light ; who have never seen the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ ; who have never submitted to him as their Prophet, Priest, and King, and who do not live in the flesh by faith in the Son of God ? Alas ! are they likely to be saved who are destitute of the grand pre-requisite of salvation ? And yet, is not this the melancholy case of some of you ? You may not be avowed unbelievers ; you may believe there is one God, and that Jesus is the true Messiah : in this you do well, but still it is no mighty attainment, for the devils also believe and trem- ble, and you may have this speculative faith, and yet be wholly destitute of the faith of the operation of God, the precious fliith of God's elect ; that faith which purifies the heart, produces good works, and unites the soul to Jesus Christ. Certainly the having or not having of such a faith, must make a great difference in a man's character, and must be followed by a proportionally different doom. And if they that have it be but scarcely saved, I appeal to yourselves, can they be saved at all who have it not ? 6. If true penitents be scarcely saved, where shall the impenitent appear 1 It is the character of the righteous that he is deeply affected with sorrow for his sins in heart and practice ; that he hates them without exception with an implaca- ble enmity ; that he strives against them, and would re- sist them even unto blood ; that his repentance is attend- ed with reformation, and that he forsakes those things for the commission of which his heart is broken with sorrows. Now, repentance appears evidently to the common reason of mankind a hopeful preparative for 418 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY, AND acceptance with God and eternal happiness ; and there- fore if they who repent are saved with great difficulty, where shall they appear who persist impenitent in sin ? Where shall they appear who have hard unbroken hearts in their breasts, who are insensible of the evil of sin, who indulge themselves in it, and cannot be persuaded to forsake it ? Can you be at any loss to know the doom of such, after Christ has told us with his own lips, which never pronounced a harsh censure 1 Except ye repent, ye shall all likeivise perish. Luke xiii. 3, 5. And are there not some of this character in this assem- bly 1 Alas ! there is not the least likelihood, or even possibility of your salvation in such a condition. 7. The righteous man has the love of God shed abroad in his heart, and it produces the usual sentiments and conduct of love towards him. God is dearer to him than all other things in heaven and earth : the strength of his heart, and his portion forever. Psalm Ixxiii. 25, 26. His affectionate thoughts fix upon him, Psalm Ixiii, 6 ; he rejoices in the light of his countenance. Psalm iv. 7 ; and longs and languishes for him in his absence. Psalm xlii. 1, 2, and Ixiii. 1. Cant iii. 1. His love is a powerful principle of willing obedience, and carries him to keep his commandments. 1 John v. 3. He delights in the law and service of God, and in com- munion with him in his ordinances. Now, such a prin- ciple of love is a very hopeful preparative for heaven, the region of love, and for the enjoyment of God. Such a one would take pleasure in him and in his service, and therefore he certainly shall never be excluded. But if even such are but scarcely saved, where shall they ap- pear who are destitute of the love of God % There are few indeed but pretend to be lovers of God, but their love has not the inseparable properties of that sacred passion. Their pretence to it is an absurdity, and if put into language, would be such jargon as this, " Lord I love thee above all things, though I hardly ever affec- tionately think of thee ; 1 love thee above all, though I am not careful to please thee ; I love thee above all, though my conduct towards thee is quite the reverse of what it is towards one I love." Will such an inconsistency as this pass for genuine supreme love to God, when it will not pass for common friendship among men 1 No, such THE CERTAIN PERDITION OF BINNERR. 419 have not the least spark of that heavenly fire in their breasts, for their carnal mind is enmity a<2^ainst God. And are these likely to be saved ? likely to be admitted into the region of love, where there is not one cold or disloyal heart ? likely to be happy in the presence and service of that God to whom they are disaffected ? Alas ! no. Where then shall they appear 1 O ! in what forlorn, remote region of eternal exile from the blessed God ! I shall now conclude with a few reflections. 1. You may hence see the work of salvation is not that easy trifling thing which many take it to be. They seem mighty cautious of laying out too much pains upon it; and they cannot bear that people should make so much ado, and keep such a stir and noise about it.* For their part, they hope to go to heaven as well as the best of them, without all this preciseness and upon these principles they act. They think they can never be too much in earnest, or too laborious in the pursuit of earthly things ; but religion is a matter by the by with them ; only the business of an hour once a w-eck. But have these learned their religion from Christ the founder of it, or from his apostles whom he appointed teachers of if? No, they have formed some easy system from their own imaginations suited to their depraved -taste, indulgent to their sloth and carnality, and favorable to their lusts, and this they call Christianity. But you have seen this is not the religion of the Bible ; this is not the way to life laid out by God, but it is the smooth downw^ard road to destruction. Therefore, 2. Examine yourselves to which class you belong, whether to that of the righteous, who shall be saved, though with difliculty, or to that of the ungodly and the sinner, who mu^t appear in a very difterent situation. To determine thi^ iaiportant inquiry, recollect the sundry parts of the righteous man's character which I have briefly described, and see whether they belong to you. Do you carefully abstain from vice and immorality? Do you make conscience of every duty of religion. Have you ever been born again of God, and made more than externally religious? Are you sensible of the dif- * I here affect tliis low style on purpose, to represent more exactly the sentimeuts of such careless sinners in their own usual language. 420 SAINTS SAVED WITH DIFFICULTY. ficulties in your way from Satan, the world, and the flesh 1 And do you exert yourselves as in a field of battle or m a race 1 Do you work out your salvation with fear and trembling, and press into the kingdom of God ? Are you true believers, penitents, and lovers of God? Are these or the contrary the constituents of your habitual character ? I pray you make an impartial trial, for much depends upon it. 3. If this be your habitual character, be of good cheer, for you shall be saved though with difficulty. Be not discouraged when you fall into fiery trials, for they are no strange things in the present state. All that have walked in the same narrow road before you have met with them, but now they are safe arrived in their eter- nal home. Let your dependence be upon the aids of divine grace to bear you through, and you will overcome at last. But, 4. If your character be that of the ungodly and the sinner, pause and think, where shall you appear at last 1 When, like our deceased friend, you leave this mortal state, and launch into regions unknown, where will you then appear ? Must it not be in the region of sin, which is your element now 1 in the society of the devils, whom you resemble in temper, and imitate in conduct 1 among the trembling criminals at the left hand of the Judge, where the ungodly and sinners shall all be crowded 1 If you continue such as you now are, have you any reason at all to hope for a more favorable doom 1 I shall conclude with a reflection to exemplify the context in another view, and that is, " If Judgment be- gin at the house of God, what shall be the end of them that obey not the gospel ? If the righteous, the favorites of Heaven, suffer so much in this world, what shall sin- ners, with whom God is angry every day, and who are vessels of wrath fitted for destruction, what shall they suffer in the eternal world, the proper place for rewards and punishments, and where an equitable Providence deals with every man according to his works'? If the children are chastised with various calamities, and even die in common with the rest of mankind, what shall be the doom of enemies and rebels ? If those meet with so many diflficulties in the pursuit of salvation, what shall these suffer in enduring damnation? If the infernal INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE. 421 powers are permitted to worry Christ's sheep how will they rend and tear the wicked as their proper prey ? O that you may in " this your day know the things that be- long to your peace, before they are forever hid from voiir eyes." Luke xix. 42. SERMON XXIII. INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY.* 1 CoR. vii. 29, 30, 31. — But this I say, brethren, that the time is short : it remaineth that both they that have wives be as though they had none ; and they that weep, as though they ivept not ; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not ; and they that buy, as though they pos- sessed not ; and they that use this world, as not abusing it : for the fashion of this world passeth away. A Creature treading every moment upon the slippery brink of the grave, and ready every moment to shoot the gulf of eternity, and launch away to some unknown coast, ought to stand always in the posture of serious expectation ; ought every day to be in his own mind taking leave of this world, breaking off the connections of his heart from it, and preparing for his last remove into that world in which he must reside, not for a few months or years as in this, but through a boundless ever- lasting duration. Such a situation requires habitual, constant thoughtfulness, abstraction from the world, and serious preparation for death and eternity. But when we are called, as we frequently are, to perform the last sad offices to our friends and neighbors who have taken their flight a little before us; when the solemn pomp and horrors of death strike our senses, then certainly it becomes us to be unusually thoughtful and serious. * This sermon is dated, at Mr. Thompson's funeral, Februaryie, 1759. 422 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED Dying beds, the last struggles and groans of dissolving na- ture, pale, cold, ghastly corpses, " The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave : The deep damp vault, the darkness aud the worm;" these are very alarming monitors of our own mortality : these out-preach the loudest preacher ; and they must be deep and senseless rocks, and not men, who do not hear and feel their voice. Among the numberless in- stances of the divine skill in bringing good out of evil, this is one, that past generations have sickened and died to warn their successors. One here and there also is singled out of our neighborhood or families, and made an example, a memento mori, to us that survive, to rouse us out of our stupid sleep, to give us the signal of the approach of the last enemy, death, to constrain us to let go our eager grasp of this vain world, and set us upon looking out and preparing for another. And may I hope my hearers are come here to-day determined to make this improvement of this melancholy occasion, and to gain this great advantage from our loss % To this I call you as with a voice from the grave ; and therefore he that hath ears to hear^ let him hear. One great reason of men's excessive attachment to the present state, and their stupid neglect to the con- cerns of eternity, is their forming too high an esti- mate of the affixirs of time in comparison with those of eternity. While the important realities of the eternal world are out of view, unthought of, and disre- garded, as, alas ! they generally are by the most of man- kind, what mighty things in their esteem are the rela- tions, the joys and sorrows, the possessions and be- reavements, the acquisitions and pursuits of this life 1 What airs of importance do they put on in their view 1 How do they engross their anxious thoughts and cares, and exhaust their strength and spirits ! To be happy, to be rich, to be great and honorable, to enjoy your tili of pleasure in this world, is not this a great matter, the main interest in many of you ? is not this the object of your ambition, your eager desire and laborious pursuit ? But to consume away your life in sickness and pain, in pov- erty and disgrace, in abortive schemes and disappointed pursuits, what a serious calamity, what a huge affliction FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 423 is this in your esteem ? What is there in tnc compass of the universe that you are so much afraid of, and so cautiously shunning 1 Whether large profits or losses in trade be not a mightier matter, ask the busy anxious merchant. Whether poverty be not a most miserable state, ask the poor that feel it, and the rich that fear it. Whether riches be not a very important happiness, ask the possessors ; or rather ask the restless pursuers of them, who expect still greater happiness from them than those that are taught by experience can flatter them selves with. Whether the pleasures of the conjugal state are not great and delicate, consult the few happy pairs here and there who enjoy them. Whether the loss of an affectionate husband and a tender fother be not a naost afflictive bereavement, a torturing separation of heart from heart, or rather a tearing of one's heart in pieces, ask the mourning, weeping widow, and fatherless children, when hovering round his dying-bed, or conduct- ing his dear remains to the cold grave. In short, it is evident from a thousand instances, that the enjoyments, pursuits, and sorrows of this life are mighty matters ! nay, are all in all in the esteem of the generality of man- kind. These are the things they most deeply feel, the things about which they are chiefly concerned, and which are the objects of their strongest passions. But is this a just estimate of things 1 Are the aflairs of this world then indeed so interesting and all impor- tant ? Yes, if eternity be a dream, and heaven and hell but majestic chimeras, or fairy lands ; if we were always to live in this world, and had no concern with anything beyond it ; if the joys of earth were the highest we could hope for, or its miseries the most terrible we could fear, then indeed we might take this world for our all, and re- gard its affairs as the most important that our nature is capable of. But this I saij, brethren, (and I pronounce it as the echo of an inspired apostle's voice) this I say, the time is short ; the time of life in which we have any- thing to do with these afliiirs is a short contracted span. Therefore it remaineth, that is, this is the iiiferenco we should draw from the shortness of time, theij that have wives, be as though they had none ; arid they that weep, as though they wept not ; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not ; and they that buy, as though they possessed 424 INDIFFERENCE OF LIFE URGED not ; and they that use this world^ as not abusing it, or using it to excess ; for the fashion of this world, these tender relations, this weeping and rejoicing, this buying, possessing, and using this world passeth away. The phantom will soon vanish, the shadow will soon fly off; and they that have wives or husbands in this transitory life, will in reality be as though they had none ; and they that weep now, as though they wept not ; and they that now rejoice, as though they rejoiced not ; and they that now buy, possess and use this world, as though they never had the least property in it. This is the solemn mortifying doctrine I am now to inculcate upon you in the further illustration of the several parts of my text ; a doctrine justly alarming to the lovers of this world, and the neglecters of that life which is to come. When St. Paul pronounces anything with an unusual air of solemnity and authority ; and after the formality of an introduction to gain attention, it must be a matter of uncommon weight, and worthy of the most serious regard. In this manner he introduces the funeral senti- ments in my text. This I say, brethren ; this I solemnly pronounce as the mouth of God : this I declare as a great truth but little regarded ; and which therefore there is much need I should repeatedly declare : this I say with all the authority of an apostle, a messenger from heaven ; and I demand your serious attention to what I am going to say. And what is it he is introducing with all this solemn formality ? Why, it is an old, plain, familiar truth uni- versally known and confessed, namely, that the time of our continuance in this world is short. But why so much formality in introducing such a common plain truth as this 1 Because, however generally it be known and confessed, it is very rarely regarded ; and it re- quires more than even the most solemn address of an apostle to turn the attention of a thoughtless world to it. How many of you, my brethren, are convinced against your wills of this melancholy truth, and yet turn every way to avoid the mortifying thought, are always uneasy when it forces itself upon your minds, and do not suffer it to have a proper influence upon your temper and practice, but live as if you believed the time of life were long, and even everlasting ] O ! when will the happy hour come FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 425 when you will think and act like those that believe that common nncontro verted truth, that the time of life is short 1 Then you would no longer think of delays, nor contrive artifices to put off the work of your salvation ; then you could not bear the thought of such negligent, or languid, feeble endeavors in a work that must be done, and that in so short a time. This I say, my brethren, the time is short: the time of life is absolutely short ; a span, an inch, a hair's breadth. How near the neighborhood between the cradle and the grave ! How short the journey from infancy to old age, through all the intermediate stages ! Let the few among you who bear the marks of old age upon you in gray hairs, wrinkles, weakness, and pains, look back upon your tiresome pilgrimage through life, and does it not appear to you, as though you commenced men but yes- terday ? And how little a way can you trace it back till you are lost in the forgotten unconscious days of infancy, or in that eternal non-existence in which you lay before your creation! But they are but a very few that drag on their lives through seventy or ^ghty years. Old men can hardly find contemporaries : a new race has started up, and they are become almost strangers in their own neighborhoods. By the best calculations that have been made, at least one half of mankind die under seven years old. They are little particles of life, sparks of being just kindled and then quenched, or rather dis- missed from their suffocating confinement in clay, that they may aspire, blaze out, and mingle with their kindred flames in the eternal world, the proper region, the native element of spirits. And how strongly does the shortness of this life prove the certainty of another? Would it be worth while, would it be consistent with the wisdom and goodness of the Deity, to send so many infant millions of reasonable creatures into this world, to live the low life of a vege- table or an animal for a few moments, or days, or years, if there were no other world for these young immortals to remove to, in which their powers might open, enlarge, and ripen? Certainly men are not such insects of a day : certainly this is not the last stage of human na- ture : certainly there is an eternity ; there is a heaven and a hell : — otherwise we might expostulate with our 426 INDIFFERERENCE OF LIFE URGED Maker, as David once did upon that supposition, Where- fore hast thou made all men in vain ? Ps. Ixxxix. 47. In that awful eternity we must all be in a short time. Yes, my brethren, I may venture to prophesy that, in less than seventy or eighty years, the most, if not all this assembly, must be in some apartment of that strange untried world. The merry, unthinking, irreligious mul- titude in that doleful mansion which I must mention, grating as the sound is to their ears, and that is hell !* and the pious, penitent, believing few in the blissful seats of heaven. There we shall reside a long, long time indeed, or rather through a long, endless eternity. Which leads me to add, That the time of life is short absolutely in itself, so especially it is short comparatively ; that is, in compar- ison with eternity. In this comparison, even the long life of Methuselah and the antediluvians shrink into a mere point, a nothing. Indeed no duration of time, how- ever long, will bear the comparison. Millions of mill- ions of years ! as many years as the sands upon the sea- shore ! as many years as the particles of dust in this huge globe of earth ; as many years as the particles of matter in the vaster heavenly bodies that roll above us, and even in the whole material universe, all these years do not bear so much proportion to eternity as a moment, a pulse, or the twinkling of an eye, to ten thousand ages ! not so much as a hair's breadth to the distance from the spot where we stand to the farthest star, or the remotest cor- ner of creation. In short, they do not bear the least imaginable proportion at all ; for all this length of years, though beyond the power of distinct enumeration to us, will as certainly come to an end as an hour or a moment ; and when it comes to an end, it is entirely and irrecoverably past ; but eternity (O the solemn tremendous sound !) eter- nity will never, never, never come to an end ! eternity will never, never, never be past ! And is this eternity, this awful all-important eternity, entailed upon us I upon us, the offspring of the dust ! the Regions of sorrow ! doleful shades ? where Peace And rest can never dwell ! Hope never comes That coniLH to all ! but torture without end Still urges, and a fiery deluge fed With ever-buruing sulphur unconsum'd. Miltos. FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 427 creatures of yesterday ! upon us, who a little while ago were less than a gnat, less than a inote, were nothing! upon us who are every moment liable to the arrest of death, sinking into the grave, and mouldering into dust one after another in a thick succession ! upon us whose thoughts and cares, and pursuits are so confined to time and earth, as if we had nothing to do with anything be- yond ! O ! is this immense inheritance unalienably ours? Yes, brethren, it is ; reason and revelation prove our title beyond all dispute. It is an inheritance entailed upon us, whether we will or not ; whether we have made it our interest it should be ours or not. To command ourselves into nothing is as much above our power as to bring ourselves into being. Sin may make our souls miserable, but it cannot make them mortal. Sin may forfeit a happy eternity, and render our immortality a curse ; so that it would be better for us if we never had been born ; but sin cannot put an end to our being, as it can to our happiness, nor procure for us the shocking relief of rest in the hideous gulf of annihilation. And is a little time, a few months or years, a great matter to us 1 to us who are heirs of an eternal duration ? How insignificant is a moment in seventy or eighty years! but how much more insignificant is even the longest life upon earth, when compared with eternity ! How trifling are all the concerns of time to those of im- mortality ! What is it to us who are to live for ever, whether we live happy or miserable for an hour ? whether we have wives, or whether we have none; whether we rejoice, or whether we weep ; whether we buy, possess, and use this world, or whether we consume away our life in hunger, and nakedness, and the want of all things, it will be all one in a little, little time. Eternity will level all ; and eternity is at the door. And how shall we spend this eternal duration that is thus entailed upon us 1 Shall we sleep it away in a stu- pid insensibility or in a state of indifierency, neither hap- py nor miserable ? No, no, my brethren ; we must spend it in the height of happiness or in the depth of misery. The happint'ss and misery of the world to come will not consist in such childish toys as those that give us pleas- ure and pain in this infant state of our existence, but in the most substantial realities suitable to an immortal spi- 428 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED rit, capable of vast improvements and arrived at its adult age. Now, as the apostle illustrates it, we are children, and we speak like children, we understand like children ; but then we shall become men, and put away childish things. 1 Cor. xiii. 11. Then we shall be beyond re- ceiving pleasure or pain from such trifles as excite them in this puerile state. This is not the place of rewards or punishments, and therefore the great Ruler of the world does not exert his perfections in the distribution of either ; but eternity is allotted for that very purpose, and therefore he will then distribute rewards and punish- ments worthy himself, such as will proclaim him God in acts of grace and vengeance, as he has appeared in all his other works. Then he will show his wrath, and make his power knoivn on the vessels of wrath who have made themselves Jit for destruction and nothing else; and he will show the riches of the glory of his grace upon the ves- sels of mercy ivhom he prepared beforehand for glory. Rom. ix. 22, 23. Thus heaven and hell will proclaim the God, will show him to be the Author of their respective joys and pains, by their agreeable or terrible magniiicence and grandeur. O eternity ! with what majestic wonders art thou replenished, where Jehovah acts with his own immediate hand, and displays himself God-like and un- rivalled, in his exploits both of vengeance and of grace ! In this present state, our good and evil are blended ; our happiness has some bitter ingredients, and our miseries have some agreeable mitigations; but in the eternal world good and evil shall be entirely and for ever sepa- rated ; all will be pure, unmingled happiness, or pure unmingled misery. In the present state the best have not uninterrupted peace within ; conscience has frequent cause to make them uneasy ; some mote or other falls into its tender eye, and sets it a weeping ; and the worst also have their arts to keep conscience sometimes easy, and silence its clamors. But then conscience will have its tuil scope. It will never more pass a censure upon the righteous, and it will never more be a friend, or even ail inactive enemy to the wicked for so much as one mo- ment. And O what a perennial fountain of bliss or pain will conscience then be ! Society contributes much to our happiness or misery. But what misery can be felt or tlared in the immediate presence and fellowship of the FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 429 blessed God and Jesus (the friend of man) ; of angels and saints, and all the glorious natives of heaven ! But, on the other hand, what happiness can be enjoyed or hoped for, what misery can be escaped in the liorrid so- ciety of lost abandoned ghost of the angelic and hu- man nature ; dreadfully mighty and malignant, and re- joicing only in each other's misery ; mutual enemies, and mutual tormentors, bound together inseparably in everlasting chains of darkness ! O the horror of the thought ! in short, even a heathen* could say, " Had I a hundred tongues, a hundred mouths An iron voice, I could not comprehend The various forms and punishments of vice.' The most terrible images which even the pencil of di- vme inspiration can draw, such as "a lake of fire and brimstone, utter darkness, the blackness of darkness, a never dying worm, unquenchable everlasting fire," and all the most dreadful figures that can be drawn from all parts of the universe, are not sufiicient to represent the punishments of the eternal world. And, on the other hand, the eye, which has ranged through so many objects, has not seen; ^/^e ear, which has had still more extensive intelligence, has not heard ; nor has the heart, which is even unbounded in its conceptions, conceived the things that God hath laid up for them that love him. The enjoy- ments of time fall as much short of those of eternity, as time itself falls short of eternity itself. But what gives infinite importance to these joys and sorrows is, that they are enjoyed or suffered in the eternal world, they are themselves eternal. Eternal joys ! eternal pains ! joys and pains that will last as long as the King eternal and immortal will live to distribute them! as long as our immortal spirits will live to feel them ! O what joys and pains are these ! And these, my brethren, are awaiting every one of us. These pleasures, or these pains, are felt this moment by such of our friends and acquaintance as have shot the * Non mihi si Hnguaj centum sint, oraque centum, Ferrea vox, omnes scelerum comprendere formas, Omnia pojnarum percurrcre nomina possum Vino. ^n. VI. I. 625. 430 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED gulf before us; and in a little, little while, you and I must feel them. And what then have we to do with time and earth? Are the pleasures and pains of this world worthy to be compared with these 1 " Vanity of vanities, all is vani- ty ;" the enjoyments and sufferings, the labors and pur- suits, the laughter and tears of the present state, are all nothing in this comparison. What is the loss of an estate or of a dear relative to the loss of a happy immor- tality ? But if our heavenly inheritance be secur-e, what though we should be reduced into Job's forlorn situation, we have enough left more than to fill up all deficiencies. What though we are poor, sickly, melancholy, racked with pains, and involved in every human misery, heaven will more than make amends for all. But if we have no evidences of our title to that, the sense of these transi- tory distresses may be swallowed up in the just fear of the miseries of eternity. Alas ! what avails it that we play away a few years in mirth and gaiety, in grandeur and pleasure, if when these few years are tied, we lift up our eyes in hell, tormented in flames ! O what are all these things to a candidate for eternity ! an heir of ever- lasting happiness, or everlasting misery ! It is from such convictive premises as these that St,. Paul draws his inference in my text: "It remaineth therefore that they that have wives be as though they had none ; and they that weep, as though they wept not ; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that buy, as though they possessed not; and they that use this world as not abusing it." The first branch of the inference refers to the dear and tender relations that we sustain in this life. It re^ maineth that those that have wives, and by a parity of rea- son those that have husbands, parents, children, or friends dear as their own souls, be as though they had none. St. Paul is far from recommending a stoical neglect of these dear relations. That he tenderly felt the sensations, and warmly recommended the mutual duties of such rela- tions, appears in the strongest light in other parts of his writings, where he is addressing himself to husbands and wives, parents and children. But his design here is to represent the insignificancy even of these dear relations, considering how short and vanishing they are, and com- I'KOM ITS SHOKTNESS AND VANITi'. 431 paring them with the infinite concerna of eternity. These dear ereatures we shall be able to call our own lor so short a time, that it is hardly worth while to esteem them ours now. The concerns of eternity are of so much greater moment, that it is very little matter whether we enjoy these comforts or not. In a few years at most, it will be all one. The dear ties that now unite the hearts of husband and wife, parent and child, friend and friend, will be broken forever. In that world where we must all be in a little, little time, they neither marry nor are given in marriage; but are in this respect like the angels. And of how small consequence is it to creatures that are to exist forever in the most perfect happiness or misery, and that must so soon break olV all their ten- der connections with the dear creatures that were united to their hearts in the present transitory state ! of how small consequence is it to such, whether they spend a few years of their existence in all the delights of the conjugal state and the social life, or are forlorn, bereaved, destitute, widowed, childless, latherless, friendless! The grave and eternity will level all these little inequalities. The dust of Job has no more sense of his past calamities, than that of Solomon who felt so few ; and their immor- tal parts are equally happy in heaven, if they were equal- ly holy upon earth. *^ And of how small consequence is it to Judas now, after he has been above seventeen hun- dred years in his own place, whether he died single or married, a parent or childless '? This makes no distinc- tion in heaven or hell, unless that, as relations increase, the duties belonging to them are multiplied, and the trust becomes the heavier ; the discharge of which meets with a more glorious reward in heaven, and the neglect of which suffers a severer punishment in hell. Farther, the apostle, in saying that they who have wives should be as though they had none, intends that we should, not excessively set our hearts upon any of our dearest relatives so as to tempt us to neglect the superior con- cerns of the world to come, or draw off our affections from God. We should always remember who it was that said, " He that loveth father, or mother, or wife, or children, more than me, is not worthy of me." " He that is married," says St. Paul, in the context, " careth for the things of the world, how he may please his wife," 432 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED verse 83. But we should beware lest this care should run to excess, and render us careless of the interests of our souls, and the concerns of immortality. To mod- erate excessive care and anxiety about the things of this world is the design the apostle has immediately in view in my text ; for having taught " those that have wives to be as though they had none," &c., he immediately adds, "I would have you without carefulness;" and this is the reason why I would have you form such an esti- mate of all the conditions of life, and count them as on a level. Those that have the agreeable weights of these relations ought no more to abandon themselves to the over-eager pursuit of this world, or place their happiness in it ; ought no more to neglect the concerns of religion and eternity, than if they did not bear these relations. The busy head of a numerous family is as much con- cerned to secure his everlasting interest as a single man. Whatever becomes of him and his in this vanishing world, he must by no means neglect to provide for his subsistence in the eternal world; and nothing in this world can at ail excuse that neglect. O that these thouglits may deeply affect the hearts of such of us as are agreeably connected in such relations ! and may they inspire us with a proper insensibility and indifference towards them when compared with the af- fairs of religion and eternity ! May this consideration moderate the sorrows of the mourners on this melan- choly occasion, and teach them to esteem the gain or loss of a happy eternity as that which should swallow up every other concern ! The next branch of the inference refers to the sorrows of life. " It remaineth that they that weep be as if they wept not." Whatever afflictions may befall us here, they will not last long, but will soon be swallowed up in the greater joys or sorrows of the eternal world. These tears will not always flow; these sighs will not always heave our breasts. We can sigh no longer than the vital breath inspires our lungs; and we can weep no longer than till death stops all the fountains of our tears ; and that Avill be in a very little time. And when we enter into the eternal world, if we have been the duti- ful children of God here, his own gentle hand shall wipe away every tear from our faces, and he will comfort the FIIOM ITS SIIOKTNESS AND VANITV. 433 mourners. Then all the sorrows of liic will cease ibrcver, and no more painful remembrance of them will remain than of the pains and sickness of our unconscious iii- foncy. But if all the discipline of our Heavenly Father fails to reduce us to our duty, if we still continue re- bellious and incorrigible under his rod, and consequently the miseries of this life convey us to those of the future, the smaller will be swallowed up and lost in the greater as a drop in the ocean. Some desperate sinners have hard- ened themselves in sin with this cold comfort, " That since they must be miserable hereafter, they will at least take their fill of pleasure here, and take a merry journey to hell." But, alas ! what a sorry mitigation will this be ! how entirely will all this career of pleasure be forgot- ten at the first pang of infernal anguish ! O ! what poor relief to a soul lost forever, to reflect that this eternity of pain followed upon and was procured by a few months or years of sordid guilty pleasure ! Was that a relief or an aggravation which Abraham mentions to his lost son, when he puts him in mind, " Son, remember that thou in thy life time, receivedst thy goo;l things" ] Luke xvi. 25. Thou hadst then all the share of good which thou ever shalt enjoy ; thou hadst thy portion in that Avorld where thou didst choose to have it, and there- fore stand to the consequences of thine own ciioice, and look for no other portion. O ! who can bear to be thus reminded and upbraided in the midst of remediless misery ! Upon the whole, whatever afflictions or bereavements we suffer in this world, let us moderate our sorrows and keep them within bounds. Let them not work up and ferment into murmurings and insurrections against God, who gives and takes away, and blessed be his name ! Let them not sink us into a sullen dislike of the mercies still left in our possession. How unreasonable and un- grateful, that God's retaking one of his mercies should tempt us to despise all the rest ! Take a view of the rich inventory of blessings still remaining, and you will find them much more numerous and important than those you have lost. Do not mistake me, as if I recom- mended or expected an utter insensibility under the calamities of life. I allow nature its moderate tears; but let them not rise to floods of inconsolable sorrows ; I 434 INDIFFERENCE TO LIFE URGED allow you to feel your afflictions like men and Christians, but then you must bear them like men and Christians too. May God grant that we may all exemplify this direction when ^YQ are put to the trial. The third branch of the inference refers to the joys and pleasures of life. " The time is short ; it remaineth therefore that they that rejoice be as if they rejoiced not ;" that is, the joys of this life, from whatever earthly cause they spring, are so short and transitory, that they are as of no account to a creature that is to exist for- ever ; to exist forever in joys or pains of an infinitely higher and more important kind. To such a creature it is an indifterency whether he laughs or weeps, w^hether he is joyful or sad, for only a few fleeting moments. These vanishing, uncertain joys should not engross our hearts as our chief happiness, nor cause us to neglect and forfeit the divine and everlasting joys above the skies. The pleasure we receive from any created en- joyment should not ensnare us to make it our Idol, to forget that we must part with it, or to fret, and murmur, and repine, when the parting hour comes. When we are rejoicing in the abundance of earthly blessings, we should be as careful and laborious in securing the favor of God and everlasting happiness as if we rejoiced not. If our eternal All is secure, it is enough ; and it will not at all be heightened or diminished by the reflection that we lived a joyful or a sad life in this pilgrimage. But if we spend our immortality in misery, what sorry comfort will it be that we laughed, and played, and frolicked away a few years upon earth"? years that were given us for a serious purpose, as a space for repentance and prepara- tion for eternity. Therefore, let " those that rejoice be as though they rejoiced not ;" that is, be nobly indiffer- ent to all the little amusements and pleasures of so short a life. And let " those that buy be as if they possessed not." This is the fourth particular in the inference from the shortness of time, and it refers to the trade and business of life. It refers not only to the busy merchant, whose life is a vicissitude of buying and selling, but also to the planter, the tradesman, and indeed to every man among us ; for we are all carrying on a commerce, more or less for the purposes of this life. You all buy, and sell, FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITV. 435 and exchange, in some form or other ; and the things of this world are perpetually passing from hand to hand. Sometimes you have good bargains, and make large ac- quisitions. But set not your hearts upon them ; but in the midst of all your possessions, live as if you possess- ed them not. Alas ! of what small account are all the things you call your own upon earth, to you who are to stay here so short a time ; to you who must so soon bid an eternal flirewell to them all, and go as naked out of the world as you came into it ; to you who must spend an everlastmg duration far beyond the reach of all these enjoyments? It is not worth your while to call them your own, since you must so soon resign them to other hands. The melancholy occasion of this day may con- vince you, that success in trade, and a plentiful estate, procured and kept by industry and good management, is neither a security against death, nor a comfort in it. Alas ! what service can these houses and lands, and nu- merous domestics, perform to the cold clay that moulders in yonder grave, or to the immortal spirit that is fled we know not where ? Therefore buy, sensible that you can buy nothing upon a sure and lasting title ; nothing that you can certainly call yours to-morrow. Buy, but do not sell your hearts to the trifles you buy, and let them not tempt you to act as if this were your final home, or to neglect to lay up for yourselves treasures in heav- en ; treasures which you can call your own when this world is laid in ashes, and which you can enjoy and live upon in what I may call an angelic state, when these bod- ies have nothmg but a coffin, a shroud, and a few feet of earth. Finally, let " those that use this world use it as not abusing it." This is the fifth branch of the inference from the shortness of time ; and it seems to have a par- ticular reference to such as have had such success in their pursuit of the world, that they have now retired from business, and appear to themselves to have nothing to do but enjoy the world, for which they so long toiled. Or it may refer to those who are born heirs of plentiful estates, and therefore are not concerned to acquire the world, but to use and enjoy it. To such I say, " Use this world as not abusing it;" thjxt is, use it, enjoy it, take moderate pleasure in it, but do not abuse it by 436 INDIFFEREXC3 TO LIFS URGED prostituting it to sinful purposes, making provision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts thereof, indulging yourselves in de- bauchery and extravagance, placing your confidence in it, and singing a requiem to your souls : " Soul, take thine ease ; eat, drink, and be merry ; for thou hast much goods laid up in store for many years." O ! presumptu- ous " fool, this night thy soul may be required of thee." Luke xii. 19, 29. Do not use this world to excess,* (so the word may be translated,) by placing your hearts ex- cessively upon it as your favorite portion and principal happiness, and by suffering it to draw off your thoughts and affections from the superior blessedness of the world to come. Use the world, but let it not tempt you to ex- cess in eating, drinking, dress, equipage, or in any article of the parade of riches. Religion by no means enjoins a sordid, niggardly, churlish manner of living ; it allows you to enjoy the blessings of life, but then it forbids all ex- cess, and requires you to keep within the bounds of mod- eration in your enjoyments. Thus " use this world as not abusing it." The apostle's inference is not only drawn from strong premises, but also enforced with a very weighty reason ; " for the fashion of this world passeth away." The whole scheme and system of worldly affairs, all this marrying, and rejoicing, and weeping, and buying, and enjoying, passeth away^ passeth away this moment ; it not only will pass away, but it is even now passing away. The stream of time, with all the trifles that float on it, and all the eager pursuers of these bubbles, is in mo- tion, in swift, incessant motion, to empty itself and all that sail upon it into the shoreless ocean of eternity, where all will be absorbed and lost forever. And shall we excessively doat upon things that are perpetually flying from us, and in a little time will be no more our property than the riches of the world before the flood '\ " O ye sons of men, how long will ye follow after vanity "? why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which profiteth not V Some critics apprehend this sentence, the fashion of this world passeth away^ contains a fine striking allusion to * KaTaxp<^fJ.£vot. So it is rendered by Doddridge, and others. FROM ITS SHORTNESS AND VANITY. 437 the stage, and that it mi