H 
 
 //^— J 
 
 Z. X- 
 
 t 
 
 h 
 
 y 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 SEMUSTARY, 
 
 e.l 
 

 
 x/-^ 
 
 \ 
 
^^*v V 
 
 
f«/T^- W V 
 
 
 
 
 ^7 
 
 yiMM 
 
• i u 
 
 
 .* A 
 
 
 ^. 
 
 •i^ 
 
 K 
 
vl 
 
 SERMONS 
 
 VARIOUS SUBJECTS, 
 
 (now first collected.) 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED, 
 
 J TREATISE 
 
 ON 
 
 BY ROBERT HALL, A. M. 
 
 J^EWYORK: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY EASTBURN, KIRK, & CO. 
 
 AX THE UTSRART BOOUS, CORNER OF WALL AND SASSAC-STRECTS. 
 
 1814. 
 

 ^• 
 
 
1^ -r^ jAD.VERTISEMEIjtT 
 
 Ofr 4^HE AMERIGAIV PtJBLISHERS. 
 
 IN presenting this collection of the Sermons of Robert 
 Hall, the publishers believe they shall render equal ser- 
 vice to the interests of religion as to the republic of let- 
 ters. 
 
 To a mind of the first order, stored with various know- 
 ledge, Mr. Hall adds a commanding eloquence, which at 
 once informs, persuades, and convinces his readers. What- 
 ever subject he takes up he sees it as a whole, and in the 
 same luminous manner in which he sees it himself, he pre- 
 sents it to others. It is difficult, which most to admire — 
 the force and solidity of his argumentative powers, or the 
 rich glow of imagination, shed by his superior genius over 
 every page. 
 
 The effect which his sermons on infidelity produced, 
 during the first paroxisms of the French revolution, is yet 
 fresh in the recollections of thousands. Never were the 
 pernicious principles, the dangerous tendency, or the ter- 
 rible results of the new philosophy, so stiongly or so justly 
 portrayed, as by this great man — And perhaps never were 
 talents so successfully exerted as on that occasion. His 
 subs»'quent productions bear all the marks of his exalted 
 powers, and the publishers feel warranted in saying — that 
 whoever reads the sermons of Robert Hall, cannot fail to 
 place them among the greatest which any age or countjy 
 has produced. 
 
WITH RESPSCT TO ITK 
 
 A SERMON, 
 
 PHEACHED AT 
 
 THE BAPTIST MEETING> 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, ENGLAND. 
 
 BY ROBERT HALL, A. M. 
 
 Professing- themselyes to be wise they became fools,. ...st. tkVL, 
 
 Sunt qui in fortunx jam casibus, omnia ponant, 
 
 Et nuUo credanl mundiim rectore moveri, 
 
 NaUirn volvente vices ct lucis, et anni : 
 
 Alque ideo intrepidi qusecunqiie altaria langunt.....jrT, 
 
 FROM THE LATKST LONDON EDITION. 
 
 .VEJr-lORlC: 
 
 runHSIIED BY KASTBURN, KIRK, & CO. 
 
 IT THE LITERAHT KOOMS, tOKNEH Of WAIT. AfD NASr Ar-STBBKTH. 
 
 18 14. 
 
rilAT & BO WEN, PRINTERS, BROOKLTIT. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE author knows not whether it be necessary to 
 apologize for the extraordinary length of this ser- 
 mon, which so much exceeds the usual limits of 
 public discourses ; for it is only for the reader to 
 conceive (by a fiction of the imagination, if he pleases 
 so to consider it) that the patience of his audience 
 indulged him with their attention during its deliv- 
 ery. The fact is, not being in the habit of writing 
 his sermons, this discourse was not committed to 
 paper, till after it was delivered : so that the phrase- 
 ology may probably vary, and the bulk be some- 
 what extended ; but the substance is certainly 
 retained. 
 
 He must crave the indulgence of the religious 
 public for having blended so little theology with it. 
 He is fully aware the chief attention of a christian 
 minister should be occupied in explaining the doc- 
 trines, and enforcing the duties, of genuine christi- 
 anity. Nor is he chargeable, he hopes, in the exer- 
 cise of his public functions, with any remarkable 
 deviation from that rule of conduct : yet is he 
 equally convinced, excursions into other topics are 
 sometimes both lawful and necessary. The versatil- 
 ity of error demands a correspondent variety in the 
 methods of defending truth : and from whom have 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 the public more right to expect its defence, in op- 
 position to the encroachments of error and infidelity, 
 than from those who profess to devote their studies 
 and their lives to tiie advancement of virtue and 
 religion ? Accordingly, a multitude of publications 
 on these subjects, equally powerful in argument, 
 and impressive in manner, have issued from divines 
 of diUerent persuasions, which must be allowed to 
 have done the utmost honour to the clerical profes- 
 sion. The most luminous statements of the eviden- 
 ces of Christianity, on liistorical grounds, have been 
 made; the petulant cavils of infidels satisfactorily 
 refuted ; and their ignorance, if not put to shame, 
 at least amply exposed : so that revelation, as far 
 as truth and reason can prevail, is on all sides tri- 
 umphant. 
 
 There is one point of view% however, in which 
 the respective systems remain to be examined, 
 which, though hitherto little considered, is forced 
 upon our attention by the present conduct of our 
 adversaries ; that is, their ivjluence on society. The 
 controversy appears to have taken a new turn. The 
 advocates of infidelity, baffled in the field of argu- 
 ment, though unwilling to relinquish the contest, 
 Jjave changed their mode of attack ; and seem less 
 disposed to impugn the authority, than to super- 
 sede the use of revealed religion, by giving such 
 representations of man and of society as are calcu- 
 lated to make its sanctions appear unreasonable and 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 unnecessary. Their aim is not so much to discredit 
 the pretensions of any particular religion, as to set 
 aside the principles common to all. 
 
 To obliterate the sense of Deity, of moral sanc- 
 tions, and a future world ; and by tl»ese means to 
 prepare the way for tiie total subversion of every in- 
 stitution, both social and religious, which men have 
 l)een liitherto accustomed to revere, is evidently the 
 principal object of modern sceptics ; tlic first so- 
 phists who have avowed an attempt to govern 
 the world, without inculcating the persuasion of a 
 superior power. It might well excite our surprize 
 to behold an effort to shake off the yoke of religion, 
 which was totally unknown during the prevalence 
 of gross superstition, reserved for a period of the 
 world distinguished from every other by the posses- 
 sion of a revelation more pure, perfect, and better 
 authenticated than the enlightened sages of antiquity 
 ever ventured to anticipate, were we not fully per- 
 suaded the immaculate holiness of this revelation is 
 precisely that which renders it disgusting to men 
 who are determined at all events to retain their 
 vices. Our Saviour furnishes the solulion : They 
 love darkness rather than light, because their deeds 
 are evil : neither will theij come to the light, lest 
 their deeds should be reproved. 
 
 While all the religions, the Jewish excepted, 
 whicli, previous to the promulgation of Christianity, 
 
''W 
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 prevailed in the world, partly the contrivance of 
 human policy, partly the offspring of ignorant fear, 
 mixed with the mutilated remains of traditionary re- 
 velation, were favourable to the indulgence of 
 some vices, and but feebly restrained the practice 
 of others ; betwixt vice of every sort and in every 
 degree, and the religion of Jesus, there subsists an 
 irreconeileal)le enmity, an eternal discord. The 
 dominion of Christianity beiug in the very essence 
 of it the dominion of virtue, we need look no 
 farther for the sources of hostility in any who op- 
 pose it, than their attachment to vice and disorder. 
 
 This view of the controversy, if it be just, de- 
 monstrates its supreme importance ; and furnishes 
 the strongest plea with every one with whom it is 
 not a matter of indifference whether vice or virtue, 
 delusion or truth, govern the world, to exert his 
 talents in whatever proportion they are possessed, 
 in coTiitending earnestly for the faith once delivered 
 to the saints. In such a crisis, is it not best for 
 christians of all denominations, that they may bet- 
 ter concentrate their forces against the common 
 adversary, to suspend for the present their internal 
 disputes ; imitating the policy of wise states, who 
 have never failed to consider the invasion of an 
 enemy as the signal for terminating the contests of 
 party ? Internal peace is the best fruit we can reap 
 from external danger. The momentous contest at 
 issue betwixt tlie christian chwrch and infidels, may 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 instruct us how trivial, for the most part, are the 
 controversies of its members with each other ; and 
 that the different ceremonies, opinions, and prac- 
 tices, by which they are distinguished, correspond 
 to the variety of feature and complexion discernible 
 in the offspring of the same parent, among whom 
 there subsists the greatest family likeness. May 
 it please God so to dispose the minds of christians 
 of every visible church and community, that 
 Ephraim may no longer vex Judah, nor Judah 
 Ephraim ; that the only rivalry felt in future may 
 be, who shall most advance the interests of our 
 common Christianity ; and the only provocation 
 sustained, that of provoking each other to love and 
 good works f When at the distance of more than 
 half a century, Christianity was assaulted by a 
 Woolston, a Tindal, and a Morgan, it was ably sup- 
 ported, both by clergymen of the established church, 
 and writers among protestant dissenters. The la- 
 bours of a Clarke and a Butler were associated 
 with those of sl Doddridge, a Leland, and a Lavdner, 
 with such equal reputation and success, as to make 
 it evident that the intrinsic excellence of religion 
 needs not the aid of external appendages : but that, 
 with or without a dowry, her charms arc of suffici- 
 ent power to fix and engage the heart. 
 
 The writer of this discourse will feel himself hap- 
 py, should his example stimulate any of his bre- 
 thren, of superior abilities, to contribute their exer- 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 tions in so good a cause. His apology for not en- 
 tering more at large into the proofs of the being of 
 a God,* and the evidences of Christianity,! is, that 
 these subjects have been already handled with great 
 ability by various writers ; and that he wished ra- 
 ther to confine himself to one view of the subject — 
 The total incompatibility of sceptical principles with 
 the existence of society. Should his life be spared, 
 he may probably, at some future time, enter into a 
 fuller and more particular examination of the infidel 
 philosophy, both with respect to its speculative 
 principles, and its practical eflfects ; its influence 
 on society, and on the individual. In the mean 
 time, he humbly consecrates this discourse to the 
 honour of that Saviour, who, when the means of a 
 more liberal offering arc wanting, commends the 
 widow's mite. 
 
 * See an excellent Sermon on atheism, by the Rev. Mr. Estlin, of Bris- 
 tol, at whose meeting the substance of this discourse was first preached. 
 In the sermon referred to, the argument for the existence of a Deity is 
 stated with the utmest clearness and precision ; and the !»ophistry of 
 Dupuis, a. French im".dtl, refuted in a very satisfactoryu^ manner. 
 
 -)• It is almost superfluous to name a work so universally known as Dr. 
 
 Paley's Vicxo of the Evidences of Christianity, which is probably, without 
 
 exception, the most clear and satisfactory statement of the historical 
 
 jjroofs of the christian religion ever exhibited in any age or country. 
 
 Cambhidge, P 
 Jan. 18. S 
 

 
 
 yvv. r,f -, v^ 
 
 SERMON. 
 
 EPHES. CHAP. 2, VERSE 12. 
 
 Without God in the World. 
 
 -if"-. 
 
 As the christian ministry is established for the 
 instruction of men, throughout every age, in truth 
 and holiness, it must adapt itself to the ever- shift- 
 ing scenes of the moral world, and stand ready to 
 repel the attacks of impiety and error, under what- 
 ever form they may appear. The church and the 
 world form two societies so distinct, and are gov- 
 erned by such opposite principles and maxims, that, 
 as well from this contrariety, as from the express 
 warnings of scripture, true christians must look for 
 a state of warfare, with this consoling assurance, 
 that the church, like the burning bush beheld by 
 Moses in the land of Midian, may be encompassed 
 with flames, but will never be consumed. 
 
 When she was delivered from the persecuting 
 power of Rome, she only experienced a change of 
 
10 
 
 trials. The oppression of external violence wa» 
 followed by the more dangerous and insidious at- 
 tacks of internal enemies. The freedom of enquiry 
 claimed and asserted at the reformation, degene- 
 rated, in the hands of men who professed the prin- 
 ciples without possessing the spirit of the reformers, 
 into a fondness for speculative refinements ; and 
 consequently into a source of dispute, faction and 
 heresy. While protestauts attended more to the 
 points on which they differed, than to those in 
 which they ag^'eed ; while more zeal was employed 
 in settling ceremonies and defending subtleties, than 
 in enforcing plain revealed truths, the lovely fruits 
 of peace and charity perished under the storms of 
 controversy. 
 
 In this disjointed and disordered state of the 
 christian church, they who never looked into the 
 interior of Christianity were apt to suspect, that to 
 a subject so fruitful in particular disputes, must at- 
 tach a general uncertainty ; and that a religion 
 founded on revelation could never havetxJccasioned 
 such discordancy of principle and practice amongst 
 its disciples. Thus infidelity is the joint offspring 
 of an irreligious temper, and unholy speculation, 
 employed, not in examining the evidences of Chris- 
 tianity, but in detecting the vices and imperfec- 
 tions of professing cliristians. It has passed 
 through various stages, each distinguished by 
 higher gradations of impiety; for when men arro 
 
11 
 
 gantly abandon their guide, and wilfully shut their 
 eyes on the light of heaven, it is wisely ordained 
 that their errors shall multiply at every step, until 
 their extravagance confutes itself, and the mischief 
 of their principles works its own antidote. That 
 such has been the progress of infidelity, will be 
 obvious from a slight survey of its history. 
 
 Lord Herbert, the first and purest of our En- 
 ^Vish free -thinkers J who flourished in the beginning 
 of the reign of Charles the First, did not so much 
 impugn the doctrine or the morality of the scrip- 
 tures, as attempt to supersede their necessity, by 
 endeavouring to shew that the great principles of tbe 
 unity of God, a moral government, and a future 
 world, are taught with sufficient clearness by the 
 light of nature. Bolingbroke, and others of his 
 successors, advanced much farther, and attempted 
 to invalidate the proofs of the moral character of 
 the Deity, and consequently all expectations of re- 
 wards and punishments ; leaving the Supreme Be- 
 ing no other perfections than those which belong to 
 a first cause, or almighty contriver. After him, at 
 a considerable distance, followed Hume, the most 
 subtle, if not the most philosophical of the deists; 
 who, by perplexing the relations of cause and ef- 
 fect, boldly aimed to introduce an universal 
 scepticism, and to pour a more than Egyptian dark- 
 ness into the whole region of morals. Since his time 
 sceptical writers have sprung up inr abundance, and 
 
infidelity has allured multitudes to its standard : the 
 young and superficial by its dexterous sophistry, the 
 vain by the literary fame of its champions, and the 
 profligate by the licentiousness of its principles. 
 Atheism, the most undisguised, has at length beg|[n 
 to make its appearance. 
 
 Animated by numbers, and emboldened by suc- 
 cess, the infidels of the present day have given a 
 new direction to their efforts, and impressed a uc\r 
 character on the ever-growing mass of their impious 
 speculators. 
 
 By uniting more closely with each other, by giv- 
 ing a sprinkling of irreligion to all theirliterary pro- 
 ductions, they aim to eugross the fj)rmation of the 
 public mind ; and, amidst the warmest professions 
 of attachment to virtue, to effect an entire disrup- 
 tion of morality from religion. Pretending to 1)3 
 the teachers of virtue, and the guides of life, they 
 propose to revolutionize the morals of mankind ; to 
 regenerate the world, by a process entirely new ; 
 and to rear the temple of virtue, not merely without 
 the aid of religion, but on the renunciation of its 
 prijiciples, and the derision of its sanctions. Tlieir 
 party has derived a great accession of numbers and 
 strength from events the most momentous and as- 
 tonishing in the political world, which have divided 
 the sentiments of Europe betwixt hope and terror ; 
 and however they may issue, have for the present. 
 
13 
 
 swelled the ranks of infidelity. So rapidly, indeed^ 
 has it advanced since this crisis, that a great majority 
 on the continent, and in England a considerable 
 proportion of those who pursue literature as a pro- 
 fession,* may justly be considered as tlie open or 
 disguised abettors of atheism. 
 
 With respect to the sceptical and religious sys- 
 tems, the enquiry at present is not so much which is 
 the truest in speculation, as which is the most use- 
 ful in practice : or, in other words, whether moral- 
 ity will be best promoted by considering it as a part 
 of a great and comprehensive law, emanating from 
 the will of a supreme, omnipotent legislator ; or as 
 a mere expedient, adapted to our present situation, 
 enforced by no other motives, than those which 
 arise from the prospects and interests of the present 
 state. The absurdity of atheism having been de- 
 monstrated so often and so clearly by many eminent 
 men, that this part of the subject is exhausted, F 
 should hasten immediately to what I have more 
 particularly in view, were I not apprehensive a dis- 
 course of this kind may be expected to contain some 
 statement of the argument in proof of a Deity, which, 
 therefore, I shall present in as few and plain words 
 as possible. 
 
 • By those who pursue literatuj-e as a profession, the autlior would be 
 understood to mean that numerous class of literary men who draw their 
 principal subsistence fr^jm their writ'ngs. 
 
14 
 
 When we examine a watch, or any other piece of 
 machinery, we instantly perceive marks of design. 
 The arrangement of its several parts, and tha 
 adaptation of its movements to one result, shew it 
 to be a contrivance ; nor do we ever imagine the 
 faculty of contriving to be in the watch itself, but 
 in a separate agent. If we turn from art to nature, 
 we behold a vast magazine of contrivances ; we sea 
 innumerable objects replete with the most exquisite 
 design. The human eye, for example, is formed 
 with admirable skill for the purpose of sight, the ear 
 for the function of hearing. As in the productions 
 of art we never think of ascribing the power of 
 contrivance to the machine itself, so we are certain 
 the skill displayed in the human structure is not a 
 property of man, since he is very imperfectly ac- 
 quainted with his own formation. If there be an 
 inseparable relation betwixt the ideas of a contri- 
 vance and a contriver; and it be evident, in regard 
 to the human structure, the designing agent is not 
 man himself, there must undeniably be some sepa- 
 rate invisible being, who is his former. This great 
 Being we mean to indicate by the appellation of 
 Deity. 
 
 This reasoning admits but of one reply. Why, it 
 will be said, may we not suppose the world has al- 
 ways continued as it is; that is, that there has been 
 a constant succession of finite beings, appearing and 
 disappearing on the earth from all eternity ? I an- 
 
id 
 
 swer, whatever is supposed to have occasioned this 
 constant succession, exclusive of an intelligent cause, 
 will never account for the undeniable marks of de- 
 sign visible in all finite beings. Nor is the absurd- 
 ity of supposing a contrivance without a contriver 
 diminished by this imaginary succession ; but 
 rather increased, by being repeated at every step of 
 the series. 
 
 Besides, an eternal succession of finite beings in- 
 volves in it a contradiction, and is therefore plainly 
 impossible. As the supposition is made to get quit 
 of the idea of any one having existed from eternity, 
 each of the beings in the succession must have be- 
 gun in time ; but the succession itself is eternal. 
 We have then the succession of beings infinitely 
 earlier than any being in the succession ; or, in 
 other words, a series of beings running on, ad infi- 
 nitum^ before it reached any particular being, which 
 is absurd. 
 
 From these considerations it is manifest there 
 must be some eternal Being, or nothing could ever 
 have existed : and since the beings which we behold 
 bear in their whole structure evident marks of wis- 
 dom and design, it is equally certain tliat he who 
 formed them is a wise and intelligent agent. 
 
16 
 
 To prove the unity of this great Being, in opposi- 
 tion to a plurality of Gods, it is not necessary to 
 have recourse to metaphysical abstractions. It is 
 sufficient to observe, that the notion of more than 
 one author of nature is inconsistent with that har- 
 mony of design which pervades her works ; that it 
 solves no appearances, is supported by no evidence, 
 and serves no purpose, but to embarrass and perplex 
 our conceptions. 
 
 Such are the proofs of the existence of that great 
 and glorious Being whom we denominate God : and 
 it is not presumption to say, it is impossible to find 
 another truth in the whole compass of morals, which, 
 according to the justest laws of reasoning, admits 
 of such strict and rigorous demonstration. 
 
 But I proceed to the more immediate object of this 
 discourse, which, as has been already intimated, is 
 not so much to evince the falsehood of scepticism as 
 a theory, as to display its mischievous effects, con- 
 trasted with those which result from the belief of a 
 Bcity, and a future state. The subject, viewed in 
 this light, may be considered under two aspects ; 
 tlie inilueiice of the opposite systems on the princi- 
 ples of morals, and on the formation of character. 
 The first may be styled their direct, the latter their 
 equally important, but indirect consequence and 
 tendency 
 
17 
 
 I. The sceptical, or irreligious system, subverts 
 the whole foundation of morals. It may be assumed 
 as a maxim, that no person can be required to act 
 contrary to his greatest good, or his highest inter- 
 est, comprehensively viewed in relation to the whole 
 duration of his being. It is often our duty to forego 
 our own interest partially, to saoriilce a smaller 
 pleasure for the sake of a greater, to incur a present 
 evil in pursuit of a distant good of more conse- 
 quence. In a word, to^ arbitrate amongst interfer- 
 ing claims of inclination is the moral arithmetic of 
 human life. — But to risque the happiness of the 
 whole duration of our being in any case whatever, 
 admitting it to be possible, would be foolish ; 
 because the sacrifice must, by the nature of it, 
 be so great as to preclude the possibility of com- 
 pensation. 
 
 As the present world on sceptical principles, is 
 the only place of recompeuce, whenever tiie 
 practice of virtue fails to promise the greatest sum 
 of present good, cases which often occur in reality, 
 and much oftener in appearance, every motive to 
 Tirtuous conduct is superseded ; a deviation from 
 rectitude becomes the part of wisdom ; and should 
 the path of virtue, in addition to this, be obstructed 
 by disgrace, torment or death, to persevere would 
 be madness and folly, and a violation of the first 
 and most essential law of nature. Virtue, on these 
 principles, beingin numberless instances at war with 
 
 3 
 
18 
 
 self-preservation, never can, or ought to become, 
 a fixed habit of the mind. 
 
 Tlie system of infidelity is not only incapable of 
 arming virtue for great and trying occasions, but 
 leaves it unsupported in the most ordinary occur- 
 rences. In vain will its advocates appeal to a mo- 
 ral sense, to benevolence and sympathy. In vain 
 "will they expatiate on the tranquillity and plea- 
 sure attendant on a virtuouA course ; for it is unde- 
 niable that these impulses may be overcome : and 
 though you may remind the oifender that in disre- 
 garding them he has violated his nature, and that 
 a conduct consistent with them is productive of 
 much internal satisfaction ; yet if he repl^^ that his 
 taste is of a different sort, that there are ether 
 gratifications which he values more, and that every 
 man must choose his own pleasures, the argument 
 is at an end. 
 
 Rewards and punishments,, awarded by omnipo- 
 tent power, afford a palpable and pressing motive 
 which can never be neglected without renouncing 
 the character of a rational creature : but tastes and 
 relishes are not to be prescribed. 
 
 A motive in which the reason of man shall acqui- 
 esce, enforcing the practice of virtue at all times and 
 seasons, enters into the very essence of moral obli- 
 gation. Modern infidelity supplies no such mo* 
 
19 
 
 lives : it is therefore essentially and infallibly a 
 system of enervationj turpitude and vice. 
 
 This chasm' in the construction of morals can 
 only be supplied by the firm belief of a rewarding 
 and avenging Deity, who binds duty and happi- 
 ness, though they may seem distant, in an indisso- 
 luble chain ; without which, whatever usurps the 
 name of virtue, is not a principle, but a feeling ; 
 Dot a determinate rule, but a fluctuating expedient, 
 varying with the tastes of individuals;, and chang- 
 ing with the scenes of life. 
 
 Nor is this the only way in which infidelity sub- 
 verts the foundation of morals. All reasoning on 
 morals pre-supposes a distinction between inclina- 
 tions and duties, aifections and rules. The former 
 prompt ; the latter prescribe. The former supply 
 motives to action ; the latter regulate and control 
 it. Hence it is evident, if virtue have any just claim 
 to authority, it must be under the latter of these no- 
 tions ; that is under the character of a law. It is 
 under this notion, in fact, that its dominion has ever 
 been acknowledged to be paramount and supreme. 
 
 But, without the intervention of a superior will, it 
 is impossible there should be any moral laws, except 
 in the lax metaphorical sense iu which we speak of 
 the laws of matter and motion. Men being essen- 
 tially equal, nnu-alily is, on these principles, only a 
 
so 
 
 stipulation, or silent compact, into which every indi- 
 vidual is supposed to enter, as far as suits his con- 
 venience, and for the breach of which he is account- 
 able to nothing but his own mind. His own mind 
 is his law, his tribunal, and his judge ! 
 
 Two consequences, the most disastrous to soci- 
 ety, will inevitably follow the general prevalence of 
 thia system ; the frequent perpetration of great 
 crimes, and the total absence of great virtues. 
 
 i. In those conjunctures which tempt avarice or 
 inflame ambition, when a crime ilatters with the 
 prospect of impunity, and the certainty of immense 
 advantage, what is to restrain an atheist from its 
 commission ? To say that remorse will deter him, 
 is absurd : for remorse, as distinguished from pity, 
 is the sole offspring of religious belief, the extinc- 
 tion of which is the great purpose of the infldel 
 philosophy. 
 
 The dread of punishment, or infamy, from his 
 fellow-creatures, will bean equally ineffectual bar- 
 rier; because crimes are only committed under 
 such circumstances as suggest the hope of conceal- 
 ment : not to say that crimes themselves will soon 
 lose their infamy and their horror, under the influ- 
 ence of that system which destroys the sanctity of 
 virtue, by converting it into a low calculation of 
 worldly interest. Here the sense of an ever-present 
 
Ruler, and of an avenging Judge, is of the mo&t aw- 
 ful and indispensable necessity ; as it is that alone 
 which impresses on all crimes the character of /oZ/y, 
 shews that duty and interest in every instance coin- 
 cide, and that the most prosperous career of vice, 
 the most brilliant successes of criminality, are but 
 an accumulation of icrath against the day of wrath. 
 
 As the frequent perpetration of great crimes is an 
 inevitable consequence of the diffusion of sceptical 
 principles ; so, to understand this consequence in 
 its full extent, we must look beyond their immedi- 
 ate effects, and consider the disruption of social 
 ties, the destruction of confidence, the terror, suspi- 
 cion and hatred, which must prevail in that state of 
 society in which barbarous deeds are familiar. 
 The tranquillity which pervades a well-ordered 
 community, and the mutual good offices which bind 
 its members together, is founded on an implied con- 
 fidence in the disposition to annoy ; in the justice, 
 humanity, and moderation of those among whom 
 we dwell. So that the worst consequence of crimes 
 is, that they impair the stock of public charity and 
 general tenderness. The dread and hatred of our 
 species would infallibly be grafted on a conviction 
 that we were exposed every moment to the surges 
 of an unbridled ferocity, and that nothing but the 
 power of the magistrate stood between us and the 
 daggers of assassins. In such a state, laws, deri- 
 
ving no support from public manners, are unequal 
 to the task of curbing the fury of the passions ; 
 which, from being concentrated into selfishness, 
 fear, and revenge, acquire new force. Terror and 
 suspicion beget cruelty, and inflict injuries by way 
 of prevention. Pity is extinguished in the strong- 
 er impulse of self-preservation. The tender and 
 generous affections are crushed ; and nothing is 
 seen but the retaliation of wrongs, the fierce and 
 unmitigated struggle for superiority. This is but 
 a faint sketch of the incalculable calamities and hor- 
 rors we must expect, should we be so unfortunate as 
 ever to witness the triumph of modern infidelity. 
 
 S. This system is a soil as barren of great and 
 sublime virtues as it is prolific in crimes. By 
 great and sublime virtues are meant, those which 
 are called into action on great and trying occasions, 
 which demand the sacrifice of the dearest interests 
 and prospects of human life, and sometimes of life 
 itself. The virtues, in a word, which, by their 
 rarity and splendour, draw admiration, and have 
 rendered illustrious the character of patriots, mar- 
 tyrs, and confessors. It requires but little reflec- 
 tion to perceive, that whatever veils a future world, 
 and contracts the limits of existence within the 
 present life, must tend, in a proportionable degree, 
 to diminish the grandeur and narrow the sphere of 
 human agency. 
 
23 
 
 As well might you expect exalted sentiments of 
 justice from a professed gamester, as look for noble 
 principles in the man whose hopes and fears are 
 all suspended on tlie present moment, and who 
 stakes the whole happiness of his being on the 
 events of this vain and fleeting life. If he be ever 
 impelled to the performance of great achievements 
 in a good cause, it must be solely by the hope of 
 fame ; a motive which, besides that it makes virtue 
 the servant of opinion, usually grows weaker at 
 the approach of death ; and which, however it may 
 surmount tlie love of existence in the heat of battle, 
 or in the moment of public observation, can seldom 
 be expected to operate with much force on the 
 retired duties of a private station. 
 
 In affirming that infidelity is unfavourable to the 
 higher class of virtues, we are supported as well 
 by facts as by reasoning. We should be sorry to 
 load our adversaries with unmerited reproach : but 
 to what history, to what record will they appeal 
 for the traits of moral greatness exhibited by their 
 disciples ? Where shall we look for the trophies of 
 infidel magnanimity, or atheistical virtue ? Not that 
 we mean to accuse them of inactivity: they have 
 recently filled the world with the fame of tlieir 
 exploits ; exploits of a different kind indeed, but of 
 imperishable memory, and disastrous lustre. 
 
S4 
 
 Though it is confessed great and splendid 
 actions are not the ordinary employment of life, but 
 must, from their nature, be reserved for high and 
 eminent occasions ; yet that system is essentially 
 defective which leaves no room for their cultivation. 
 They are important, both from their immediate ad- 
 vantage and their remoter influence. They oftea 
 save, and always illustrate, the age and nation in 
 which they appear. They raise the standard of 
 morals ; they arrest the progress of degeneracy ; 
 they diffuse a lustre over the path of life ; monu- 
 ments of the greatness of the human soul, they pre- 
 sent to the world the august image of virtue in her 
 sublimest form, from which streams of light and 
 glory issue to remote times and ages ; while their 
 commemoration, by the pen of historians and poets, 
 awakens in distant bosoms the sparks of kindred 
 excellence. 
 
 Combine tlie frequent and familiar perpetration of 
 atrocious deeds with the dearth of great and gener- 
 ous actions, and you have the exact picture of that 
 condition of society which completes the degrada- 
 tion of the species : the frightful contrast of dwarfish 
 virtues and gigantic vices, where every thing good 
 is mean and little, and every thing evil is rank and 
 luxuriant : a dead and sickening uniformity pre- 
 vails, broken only at intervals by volcanic eruptions 
 of anarchy and crime. 
 
II. Hitherto we have considered the influence of 
 scepticism on the principles of virtue ; and have 
 endeavoured to shew that it despoils it of its dignity, 
 and lays its authority in the dust. Its influence on 
 the formation of character remains to be examined. 
 The actions of men are oftener determined by their 
 character than their interest : their conduct takes 
 its colour more from their acquired taste, inclina- 
 tions, and habits, than from a deliberate regard to 
 their greatest good. It is only on great occasions 
 the mind awakes to take an extended survey of her 
 whole course, and that she suffers the dictates of 
 reason to impress a new bias upon her movements. 
 The actions of each day are, for the most part, 
 links which follow each other in the chain of cus- 
 tom. Hence the great effort of practical wisdom is 
 to imbue the mind with right tastes, affections, and 
 habits ; the elements of character, and masters of 
 action. 
 
 The exclusion of a Supreme Being, and of a su- 
 perintending providence, tends directly to the des- 
 truction of moral taste. It rol)s the universe of all 
 finished and consummate excellence even in idea. 
 The admiration of perfect wisdom and goodness 
 for which we are formed, and which kindle such un- 
 speakable rapture in the soul, finding in the regions 
 of scepticism nothing to which it corresponds, 
 droops and languishes. In a world which presents 
 a fair spectacle of order and beauty, of a vast family 
 
 4. 
 
uourislied and supported by an almighty Parent ; 
 in a world which leads the devDut mind, step by 
 step, to the contemplation of the first fair and the 
 fust good, the sceptic is encompassed with nothing 
 but obscurity, meanness, and disorder. 
 
 When we reflect on the manner in which the 
 idea of Deity is formed, we must be convinced that 
 such an idea intimately present to the mind, must 
 have a most powerful effect in refining the moral 
 taste. Composed of the richest elements, it em- 
 braces, in the character of a beneficent Parent and 
 almighty Ruler, whatever is venerable in wisdom, 
 whatever is awful in authority, whatever is touch- 
 ing in goodness. 
 
 Human excellence is blended with many imper- 
 fections, and seen under many limitations. It is 
 beheld only in detached and separate portions, 
 nor ever appears in any one character whole and 
 entire. So that when, in imitation of the Stoics, 
 we wish to form out of these fragments the notion 
 of a perfectly wise and good man, we know it is a 
 mere fiction of the mind, without any real being in 
 whom it is embodied and realized. In the belief 
 of a Deity, these conceptions are reduced to a real- 
 ity : the scattered rays of an ideal excellence are 
 concentrated, and become the real attributes of that 
 Being with whom we stand in the nearest relation, 
 who sits supreme at the head of the universe, is 
 
^7 
 
 armed witli infinite power, and pervades all nature 
 with his presence. 
 
 The efficacy of these sentiments in producing 
 and augmenting a virtuous taste will indeed be pro- 
 portioned to the vividness with which they are 
 formed, and the frequency with which they recur; 
 yet some benefit will not fail to result from them 
 even in their lowest degree. 
 
 The idea of the Supreme Being has this peculiar 
 property ; that, as it admits of no substitute, so, 
 from the first moment it is impressed, it is capable 
 of continual growth and enlargement. God him- 
 self is immutable ; but our conception of his char- 
 acter is continually receiving fresh accessions, is 
 continually growing more extended and refulgent, 
 by having transferred upon it new perceptions of 
 beauty and goodness ; by attracting to itself, as a 
 centre, whatever bears the impress of dignity, or- 
 der or happiness. It borrows splendour from all 
 that is fair, subordinates to itself all that is great, 
 and sits enthroned on the riches of the universe. 
 
 As the object of worship will always be, in a 
 degree, the object of imitation, hence arises a fixed 
 standard of moral excellence ; by the contempla- 
 tion of which the tendencies to corruption are coun- 
 teracted, the contagion of bad example is checked, 
 and human nature rises above its natural lercl. 
 
When the knowledge of God was lost in the 
 world, just ideas of virtue and moral obligation 
 disappeared along with it. How is it to be other- 
 wise accounted for, that in the polished nations, 
 and in the enlightened times of pagan antiquity, the 
 most unnatural lusts and detestable impurities were 
 not only tolerated in private life,* but entered into 
 religion, and formed a material part of public wor- 
 ship ;t while among the Jews, a people so much 
 inferior in every other branch of knowledge, the 
 same vices were regarded with horror? 
 
 The reason is this : The true character of God 
 was unknown to the former, which by the light of 
 divine revelation was imparted to the latter. The 
 former cast their deities in the mould of their own 
 
 * It is worthy of observation, that the eleg'ant and philosophic Xeno- 
 phon, in delineating^ th -^ model of a perfect prince in the character of 
 Cyrus, introduces a Mede who had formed an unnatural passion for his 
 hero ; and relates tlie incident in a lively, festive humour, without being 
 in the least conscious of any indelicacy attached to it. — What must be 
 the state of manners in a country whei'e a circumstance of this kind, 
 feigned, no doubt, by way of ornament, finds a place in such a work ? 
 Cyri Instil. Lib. 1. 
 
 Deinde nobis qui concedentibus phllosophis antiquis, adolescentulis de- 
 lectamur etiam vitia saepe jucunda sunt. Cicero de j\'at. Dei Lib. 1. 
 
 ■j- JVaHj quo n-jii prostat fcemina templo. jvv. 
 
 The impurities practised in the worship of Isis, an Egyptian deity, 
 rose to such a height in the reign of Tiberius, that that profligate prince 
 thought fit to prohibit her worship, and at the same time inflicted on 
 her priests the punishment of crucifixion. Joseph, Antiquit, Judaic. 
 L. 18. 
 
29 
 
 iniagiuatious, ia consequence of which they par- 
 took of the vices and defects of their worshippers. 
 To the latter, no scope was left for the wander- 
 ings of fancy ; but a pure and perfect model was 
 prescribed. 
 
 False and corrupt^ however, as was the religion 
 of the pagans ; (if it deserve the name) and defec- 
 tive, and often vicious, as was the character of their 
 imaginary deities, it was still better for the world 
 for the void of knowledge to be filled with these, 
 than abandoned to a total scepticism ; for if both 
 systems are equally false, they are not equally 
 pernicious. When the fictions of heathenism con. 
 secrated the memory of its legislators and heroes, 
 it invested them for the most part with those quali- 
 ties which were in the greatest repute. They were 
 supposed to possess in the highest degree the vir- 
 tues in which it was most honourable to excel ; 
 and to be the witnesses, approvers and patrons of 
 those perfections in others, by which their own 
 character was chiefly distinguished. Men saw, or 
 rather fancied they saw, in these supposed deities, 
 the qualities they most admired, dilated to a larger 
 size, moving in a higher sphere, and associated 
 with the power, dignity, and happiness of superior 
 natures. With such ideal models before them, 
 and conceiving themselves continually acting under 
 the eye of such spectators and judges, they felt a 
 real elevation ; their eloquence became more im- 
 
BO 
 
 passioned, their patriotism inflamed, and their cou- 
 rage exalted. 
 
 Revelation, by displaying the true character of 
 God, affords a pure and perfect standard of virtue; 
 heathenism, one in many respects defective and vi- 
 cious ; the fashionable scepticism of the present 
 day, vi^hich excludes the belief of all superior pow- 
 ers, affords no standard at all. Human nature 
 knows nothing better or higher than itself. All 
 above and around it being shrouded in darkness, 
 and the prospect confined to the tame realities of 
 life, virtue has no room upwards to expand; nor 
 are any excursions permitted into that unseen 
 world, the true element of the great and good, by 
 which it is fortified with motives equally calculated 
 to satisfy the reason, to delight tho fancy, and to 
 impress the heart. 
 
 III. Modern infidelity not only tends to corrupt 
 the moral taste ; it also promotes the growth of 
 those vices which are the most hostile to social hap- 
 piness. Of all the vices incident to human nature, 
 the most destructive to society, are vanity, ferocity, 
 and unbridled sensuality ; and these are precisely 
 the vices which infidelity is calculated to cherish. 
 
 That the love, fear, and habitual contemplation 
 of a Being infinitely exalted, or in other words, 
 devotion, is adapted to promote a sober and mode- 
 
rate estimate of our ewn excellencies, is incontcs- 
 tible ; Hor is it less evident that the exclusion of 
 such sentiments must be favourable to pride. The 
 criminality of pride will, perhaps, be less readily 
 admitted ; for though there is no vice so opposite to 
 the spirit of Christianity, yet there is none which, 
 even in the christian world, has, under various pre- 
 tences^ been treated with so much indulgence. 
 
 There is, it will be confessed, a delicate sensi- 
 bility to character, a sober desire of reputation, a 
 wish to possess the esteem of the wise and good, 
 felt by the purest minds, and which is at the farth- 
 est remove from arrogance or vanity. The humility 
 of a noble mind scarcely dares to approve of itself, 
 until it has secured the approbation of others. Very 
 different is that restless desire of distinction, that 
 passion for theatrical display, which inflames the 
 heart and occupies the whole attention of vain men. 
 This, of all the passions, is the most unsocial, avarice 
 itself not excepted. The reason is plain. Property 
 is a kind of good which may be more easily attained, 
 and is capable of more minute subdivisions than 
 fame. In the pursuit of wealth, men are led by an 
 attention to their own interest to promote the wel- 
 fare of each other ; their advantages are reciprocal ; 
 the benefits which each is anxious to acquire for 
 }iimself he reaps in the greatest abundance from the 
 union and conjunction of society. The pursuits of 
 vanity are quite contrary. The portion of time and 
 
attention mankind are willing to spare fVom their 
 avocations and pleasures to devote to tlie admira- 
 tion of each other is so small, that every successful 
 adventurer is felt to have impaired the common 
 stock. The success of one is the disappointment 
 of multitudes. For though there be many rich, 
 many virtuous, many wise men, fame must necessa- 
 rily be the portion of but few. Hence every vain 
 man, every man in whom vanity is the ruling pas 
 sion, regarding his rival as his enemy, is strongly 
 tempted to rejoice in his miscarriage, and repine at 
 his success. 
 
 Besides, as the passions are seldom seen in a 
 simple, unmixed state, so vanity, when it succeeds^ 
 degenerates into arrogance : when it is disappointed 
 (and it is often disapponted) it is exasperated into 
 malignity, and corrupted into envy. In this stage 
 the vain man commences a determined misanthro- 
 pist. He detests that excellence which he cannot 
 reach. He detests his species, and longs to be re- 
 venged for the unpardonable injustice he has sus- 
 tained in their insensibility to his merits. He lives 
 upon the calamities of the world ; the vices and 
 miseries of men are his element and his food. Vir- 
 tue, talents, and genius, arc his natural enemies, 
 which he persecutes with instinctive eagerness, and 
 unrelenting hostility. There are who doubt the 
 existence of such a disposition ; but it certainly 
 issues out of the dregs of disappointed vanity: a 
 
33 
 
 disease which taints ami vitiates the whole charac- 
 ter wherever it prevails. It forms the heart to 
 such a profound iudiflference to the welfare of 
 others, that whatever appearances he may assume, 
 or however wide the circle of his seeming virtues 
 may extend, you will infallibly find the vain man is 
 his own centre. Attentive only to himself, absorbed 
 in the contemplation of his own perfections, instead 
 of feeling tenderness for his fellow creatures, as 
 members of tlie same family, as beings with whom 
 he is appointed to act, to suffer, and to sympathize ; 
 he considers life as a stage on which he is perform- 
 ing a part, and mankind in no other light than spec- 
 tators. Whether he smiles or frowns, whether his 
 path is adorned with the rays of beneficence, or his 
 steps are dyed in blood, an attention to self is the 
 spring of every movement, and the motive to which 
 every action is referred. 
 
 His apparent good qualities lose all their worth, 
 by losing all that is simple, genuine, and natural : 
 they are even pressed into the service of vanity, 
 and become the means of enlarging its power. The 
 truly good man is jealous over himself, lest the no- 
 toriety of his best actions by blending itself with 
 their motive, should diminish their value ; the vain 
 man performs the same actions for the sake of that 
 notoriety. The good man quietly discharges his 
 duty, and shuns ostentation ; the vain man consi- 
 ders every good deed lost that is not publicly dis 
 
S4 
 
 played. The one is intent upon realities, the other 
 upon semblances: the one aims to be virtuous, the 
 other to appear so. 
 
 Nor is a mind inflated with vanity more disqua- 
 lified for right action than just speculation, or bet- 
 ter disposed to the pursuit of truth than the practice 
 of virtue. To such a mind the. simplicity of truth 
 is disgusting. Careless of the improvement of man- 
 kind, and intent only upon astonishing with the 
 appearance of novelty, the glare of paradox will be 
 preferred to the light of truth ; opinions will be 
 embraced, not because, they are just, but because 
 they are new : the more flagitious, the more subver- 
 sive of morals, the more alarming to the wise and 
 good, the more welcome to men who estimate their 
 literary powers by the mischief they produce, and 
 who consider the anxiety and terror they impress 
 as the measure of their renown. Truth is simple 
 and uniform, while error may be infinitely varied ; 
 and as it is one tiling to start paradoxes, and an- 
 other to make discoveries, we need the less wonder 
 at the prodigious increase of modern philosophers. 
 
 "We have been so much accustomed to consider 
 extravagant self estimation merely as a ridiculous 
 quality, that many will be surprised to find it treated 
 as a vice pregnant with serious mischief to society. 
 But, to form a judgment on its influence on the man- 
 ners and happiness of a nation, it is necessary only 
 
35 
 
 to look at its effects in a family; for bodies of men 
 are only collectious of iiulividuals, and the great- 
 est nation is nothing more than an aggregate of a 
 number of families. Conceive ofa domestic circle, 
 in which each member is elatefl with a most extrav- 
 agant opinion of himself, and a proportionable con- 
 tempt of every other; is full of little contrivances 
 to catch applause, and whenever he is not praised 
 is sullen and disappointed. What a picture of dis- 
 union, disgust, and animosity would such a family 
 present ! How utterly would domestic affection be 
 extinguished, and all the purposes of domestic soci- 
 ety be defeated ! The general prevalence of such 
 dispositions must be accompanied by an^equal pro- 
 portion of general misery. The tendencyvpf pride 
 to produce strife and hatred is sufficiently apparent 
 from the pains men have been at to construct a sys- 
 tem of politeness which is nothing more than a sort 
 of mimic humility, in which the sentiments of an 
 offensive self-estimation are so far disguised and 
 suppressed as to make them compatible with the 
 spirit of society ; such a mode of behaviour as would 
 naturally result from an attention to the apostolic 
 injunction : Let nothing be done through strife or 
 vain glory ; but, in loicliness ofmind^let each esteem 
 other better than themselves. But if the semblance 
 be of such importance, how much more useful tlie 
 reality ! If the mere i^arb of humility be of such 
 indispensable necessity that without it society could 
 not subsist, how much better still would the har- 
 
86 
 
 iiiony of the world be preserved, were the conde- 
 scension, deferf nee, and respect, so studiously dis- 
 played, atr,ue nkture of the heart? 
 
 and eager vanity wHich dis- 
 n icvis permitted in a great na- 
 with political affairs, distracts 
 into those entrusted with the 
 spirit of rash innovation and 
 a disdain of the established 
 a foolish desire to dazzle the 
 untried systems of policy, in 
 ts of antiquity and the experi- 
 ly consulted to be trodden un- 
 e executive department of gov- 
 tiVnment, a tierce contention for pre-eminence, an 
 incessant struggle to supplant and destroy, with a 
 propensity to calumny and suspicion, proscription 
 and massacre. 
 
 We shall suffer the most eventful season ever 
 witnessed in the affairs of men to pass over our 
 heads to very little purpose, if we fail to learn from 
 it some awful lessons on the nature and progress 
 of the passions. The true li£;ht in which the French 
 revolution ought to be contemplated is that of a 
 grand experiment on human nature. Among the 
 various passions which that revolution has so strik- 
 ingly displayed, none is more conspicuous than 
 vanity ; nor is it less diiilcult, without adverting to 
 
37 
 
 the national character of the people, to account foe 
 its extraordinary pretlomiuance. Political power, 
 the most seducing object of ambition, never before 
 circulated through so many hands : the prospect of 
 possessing it was never before presented to so many 
 minds. Multitudes who, by their birth and educa- 
 tion, and not unfrequently by their talents, seemed 
 destined to perpetual obscurity, where by the alter- 
 nate rise and fall of parties, elevated into distinc- 
 tion, and shared in the functions of government. 
 The short-lived forms of power and (►fiBce glided 
 with such rapidity through successive ranks of de- 
 gradation, from the court to the very dregs of tlie 
 populace, that they seemed rather to solicit accept* 
 ance than to be a prize contended for.* Yet, as it 
 was impossible for all to possess authority, though 
 none were willing to obey, a general impatience to 
 break the ranks and rush into the foremost ground, 
 maddened and infuriated the nation, and over- 
 whelmed law, order, and civilization, with the vio- 
 lence of a torrent. 
 
 If such be the mischiefs both in pu])lie and pri- 
 vate life resulting from an excessive self-estimation, 
 it remains next to be considered whether providence 
 bas supplied any medicine to correct it : for as the 
 reflection on excellencies, whether real or imagin- 
 
 ut;quo pulsat peJc pauperum tabernas 
 
 ■Regumque turres. iloB. 
 
38 
 
 ary, is always attended with pleasure to the pos- 
 sessor, it is a disease deeply seated in our nature. 
 
 Suppose there were a great and glorious Being 
 always present with us, who had given us existence 
 with numl>erless other blessings, and on whom we 
 depended each instant, as well for every present 
 enjoyment as for every future good ; suppose again 
 we had incurred the just displeasure of such a 
 Being by ingratitude and disobedience, yet that in 
 great mercy he had not cast us off, but had assured 
 us he was willing to pardon and restore us on our 
 humble intreaty and sincere repentance ; say, would 
 not an habitual sense of the presence of this Being, 
 self-reproach for having displeased him, and an 
 anxiety to recover his favour be the most effectual 
 antidote to pride ? But such are the leadiug dis- 
 coveries made by the christian revelation, and such 
 the dispositions which a practical belief of it in- 
 spires. 
 
 Humility is the first fruit of religion. In the 
 mouth of our Lord there is no maxim so frequent 
 as the following : Whosoever exalteth himself shall 
 he abased, and he that humbleth himself shall be ex- 
 alted. Religion, and that alone, teaches absolute 
 humility ; by which I mean a sense of our absolute 
 nothingness in the view of infinite greatness and 
 excellence. That sense of inferiority which results 
 from the comparison of men with each other, is of- 
 
ten an unwelcome sentiment forced upon the mind, 
 which may rather emhitter the temper than soften 
 it : that which devotion impresses is soothing and 
 delightful. The devout man loves to lie low at the 
 footstool of his Creator, because it is then he attains 
 the most lively perceptions of the divine excellence, 
 and the most tranquil confidence in the divine fa- 
 vour. In so august a presence he sees all distinc- 
 tions lost, and all beings reduced to the same 
 level. He looks at his superiors without envy, and 
 his inferiors without contempt : and when from this 
 elevation he descends to mix in society, the convic- 
 tion of superiority, which must in many instances 
 be felt, is a calm inference of the understanding, 
 and no longer a busy, importunate passion of the 
 heart, 
 
 TJie wicked (says the Psalmist) through the pride 
 of their countenance, will not seek after God: 
 God is not in all their tJioughts. When we consider 
 the incredible vanity of the atheistical sect, toge- 
 ther with the settled malignity and unrelenting ran- 
 cour with which they pursue every vestige of reli- 
 gion, is it uncandid to suppose that its humblinii; 
 tendency is one principal cause of their enmity : 
 that they are eager to displace a Deity from the 
 minds of men, that they may occupy the void ; to 
 crumble the throne of the Eternal into dust, that 
 they may elevate themselves on its ruins ; and tliat 
 
40 
 
 as their licentiousness is impatient of restraint, so 
 their pride disdains a superior? 
 
 We mentioned a ferocity of character as one eftcci 
 of sceptical impiety It is an inconvenience attend- 
 ing a controversy with those with whom we have 
 few principles in common, that we are often in dan- 
 ger of reasoning inconclusively, for the want of its 
 being clearly known and settled what our opponents 
 admit, and what they deny. The persons, for ex- 
 ample, with whom we are at present engaged, have 
 discarded humility and modesty from the catalogue 
 of virtues ; on which account we have employed the 
 more time in evincing their importance : but what- 
 ever may be thought of humility as a virtue^ it surely 
 will not be denied that inhumanity is a most detest- 
 able vice ; a vice, however, which scepticism has a 
 most powerful tendency to inflame. 
 
 As we have already shewn that pride hardens the 
 heart, and that religion is the only effectual antidote, 
 the connexion between irreligion and inhumanity 
 is in this view obvious. But there is another light 
 in which this part of the subject may be viewed, in 
 ray humble opinion, much more important, though 
 seldom adverted to. The supposition that man 
 is a moral and accountable being, destined to sur- 
 vive the stroke of death, and to live in a future world 
 in a never-ending state of happiness or misery, 
 
makes him a creature of incomparably more conse- 
 quence than the opposite supposition. When we 
 consider him as placed here by an almighty Ruler 
 in a state of probation, and that the present life is 
 his period of trial, the first link in a vast and inter- 
 minable chain which stretches into eternity, he as- 
 sumes a dignified character in our eyes. Every 
 thing which relates to him becomes interesting; 
 and to trifle with his happiness is felt to be the most 
 unpardonable levity. If such be the destination of 
 man, it is evident that in the qualities which fit him 
 for it his principal dignity consists : his moral great- 
 ness is his true greatness. Let the sceptical prin- 
 cipals be admitted, which represent him, on the 
 contrary, as the offspring of chance, connected with 
 no superior power, and sinking into annihilation at 
 death, and he is a contemptible creature, whose ex- 
 istence and happiness are insignificant. The cha- 
 racteristic difference is lost betwixt him and the 
 brute creation, from which he is no longer distin- 
 guished, except by the vividness and multiplicity of 
 his perceptions. 
 
 If we reflect on that part of our nature which 
 disposes us to humanity, we shall find that, where 
 we have no particular attachment, our sympathy 
 with the sufferings, and concern for the destruction 
 of sensitive beings, is in proportion to their sup- 
 posed importance in the general scale ; or, in other 
 words, to their supposed capacity of enjoyment. 
 
 Q 
 
4S 
 
 We feel, for example, much more at witnessing the 
 destruction of a man than of an inferior animal, be- 
 cause we consider it as involving the extinction of 
 a much greater sum of happiness. For the same 
 reason, he who would shudder at the slaughter of a 
 large animal, will see a thousand insects perish 
 without a pang. Our sympathy with the calamities 
 of our fellow- creatures is adjusted to the same pro- 
 portions : for we feel more powerfully affected with 
 the distresses of fallen greatness, than with equal or 
 greater distresses sustained by persons of inferior 
 rank ; because, having been accustomed to associate 
 with an elevated station, the idea of superior hap- 
 piness, the loss appears the greater, and the wreck 
 more extensive. But the disproportion in import- 
 ance betwixt man and the meanest insect, is not so 
 great as that which subsists betwixt man consid- 
 ered as mortal Sind as immortal; that is, betwixt man 
 as he is represented by the system of scepticism, 
 and that of divine revelation : for the enjoyment 
 of the meanest insect bears some proportion, though 
 a very small one, to the present happiness of man ; 
 but the happiness of time bears none at all to that 
 of eternity. The sceptical system, therefore, sinks 
 the importance of human existence to an inconceiv- 
 able degree. 
 
 From these principles results the following im- 
 portant inference — that to extinguish human life by 
 the hand of violence, must be quite a diferent thing 
 
4i3 
 
 in the eyes of a sceptic from what it is in those of a 
 christian. With the sceptic it is nothing move than 
 diverting the course of a little red fluid, called 
 blood ; it is merely lessening the number by one of 
 many millions of fugitive contemptible creatures. 
 The christian sees in the same event an accountable 
 being cut off from a state of probation, and hurried, 
 perhaps unprepared, into the presence of his Judge, 
 to hear that final, that irrevocable sentence, which 
 is to fix liim forever in an unalterable condition of 
 felicity or woe. The former perceives in death 
 nothing but its physical circumstances ; the latter is 
 impressed with the magnitude of its moral conse- 
 (^uences. It is the moral relation which man is 
 supposed to bear to a superior power, the awful idea 
 of accountability, the influence which his present 
 dispositions and actions are conceived to have upon 
 his eternal destiny, more than any superiority of 
 intellectual powers abstracted from these consid- 
 erations, which invest him with such mysterious 
 grandeur, and constitute the firmest guard on the 
 sanctuary of human life. This reasoning, it is true, 
 serves more immediately to shew how the disbelief 
 of a future state endangers the security of life ; but 
 though this be [indirect consequence, it extends by 
 analogy mucli farther, since he who has learned to 
 sport with the lives of his fellow-creatures will feel 
 but little solicitude for their welfare in any other 
 instance ; but, as the greater includes the less, will 
 
4.4i 
 
 easily pass from this to all the inferior gradations 
 of barbarity. 
 
 As the advantage of the armed over the unarmed 
 is not seen till the moment of attack, so in that tran- 
 quil state of society, ia which law and order main- 
 tain their ascendency, it is not perceived, perhaps 
 not even suspected, to what an alarming degree the 
 principles of modern infidelity leave us naked and 
 defenceless. But let the state be convulsed, let 
 the mounds of regular authority be once overflowed, 
 and the still small voice of law drowned in the temp- 
 est of popular fury, (events which recent experi- 
 ence shews to be possible) it will then be seen that 
 atheism is a school of ferocity ; and that having 
 taught its disciples to consider mankind as little 
 better than a nest of insects, they will be prepared 
 in the fierce conflicts of party to trample upon them 
 without pity, and extinguish them without remorse. 
 
 It was late* before the atheism of Epicurus gain- 
 ed footing at Rome ; but its prevalence was soon fol- 
 lowed by such scenes of proscription, confiscation 
 and blood, as were then unparalleled in the history 
 of the world ; from which the republic being never 
 able to recover itself, after many unsuccessful strug- 
 
 * Ncquc enim asscntior iis qui hac nnper disscrare coeperiint cum 
 corporibus simul auimos intcrrire atque onmln morte deleri. Cicero dc 
 Amicitia. 
 
49 
 
 gles, exchanged liberty for repose, by submission to 
 absolute power. Such were the effects of atheism 
 at Rome. An attempt has been recently made to 
 establish a similar system in France, the conse- 
 quences of which are too well known to render it 
 requisite for me to shock your feelings by a recital. 
 The only doubt that can arise is, whether the bar- 
 barities which have stained the revolution in that 
 unhappy country are justly chargeable on the prev- 
 alence of atheism. Let those who doubt of this, 
 recollect that the men who, by their activity and 
 talents prepared the minds of the people for that 
 great change — Voltaire, D^Alembert, Diderot, 
 Rousseau, and others, were avowed enemies of rev- 
 elation ; and in all their writings the diffusion of 
 scepticism and revolutionary principles went hand 
 in hand ; that the fury of the most sanguinary par- 
 ties was especially pointed against the christian 
 priesthood and religious institutions, without once 
 pretending, like other persecutors, to execute the 
 vengeance of God (whose name they never men- 
 tioned) upon his enemies; that their atrocities were 
 committed with a wanton levity and brutal merri- 
 ment ; that the reign of atheism was avowedly and 
 expressly the reign of terror ; that in the full madness 
 of their career, in the highest climax of their hor- 
 rors, they shut up the temples of God, abolished his 
 worship, and proclaimed death to be an eternal 
 sleep ; as if, by pointing to the silence of the sepul- 
 chre, and the sleep of the dead, these ferocious bar- 
 
46 
 
 barians meant to apologize fov leaving neither sleep, 
 quiet, nor repose to the living. 
 
 As the heathens fabled that Minerva issued full 
 armed from the head of Jupiter, so no sooner were 
 the speculations of atheistical philosophy matured, 
 thaa they gave birth to a ferocity which converted 
 the most polished ]>eople in Europe into a horde 
 of assassins ; the seat of voluptuous refinement, of 
 pleasure and of arts, into a theatre of blood. 
 
 Having already shewn that the principles of infi- 
 delity facilitate the commission of crimes, by re- 
 moving the restraints of fear ; and that they foster 
 the arrogance of the individual, while they inculcate 
 the most despicable opinion of the species ; the in- 
 evitable result is, that a haughty self-confidence, a 
 contempt of mankind, together with a daring defi- 
 ance of religious restraints, are the natural ingredi- 
 ents of the atheistical character; nor is it less evi- 
 dent that these are, of all others, the dispositions 
 which most forcibly stimulate to violence and 
 cruelty. 
 
 Settle it therefore in your minds, as a maxim 
 never to be effaced or forgotten, that atheism is an 
 inhuman, bloody, ferocious system, equally hostile 
 to every useful restraint, and to every virtuous af- 
 fection ; that, leaving nothing above us to excite 
 awe, nor around us to awaken tenderness, it wages 
 
47 
 
 war with heaven and with earth ; its first object is 
 to dethrone God, its next to destroy man.* 
 
 There is a third vice, not less destructive to socie- 
 ty than either of those which liave been already 
 mentioned, to which the system of modern infidelity 
 is favourable ; that is, unbridled sensuality, the li- 
 centious and unrestrained indulgence of tliose pas- 
 sions which are essential to the continuation of the 
 species. The magnitude of these passions, and 
 their supreme importance to the existence as well 
 as the peace and welfare of society, have rendered 
 it one of the first objects of solicitude with every 
 wise legislator, to restrain them by such laws, and to 
 confine their indulgence within such limits as shall 
 best promote the great ends for which they were im- 
 planted. 
 
 The benevolence and wisdom of the Author of 
 Christianity are eminently conspicuous in the laws 
 he has enacted on this branch of morals ; for, while 
 he authorises marriage, he restrains the vagrancy 
 and caprice of the passions, by forbidding polygamy 
 
 As human nature is the same in all ages, it is not surprising' to find 
 the same moral systems, even in the most dissimilar circumstances, 
 produce corresponding effects. Josephus remarks that the Sadducces, a 
 kind of Jewish infidels, whose tenets were the denial of a moral govern- 
 ment and a future state, were distinguished from the other sects by their 
 ferocity. De. Bell. Jud. lib. 2. He elscv>'here remarks, that they wev<» 
 eminent for their inhumanity in theirjudicial capacity. 
 
48 
 
 and divorce ; and^, well knowing that offences 
 against the laws of chastity usually spring from an 
 ill-regulated imagination, he inculcates purity of 
 heart. Among innumerable benefits which the 
 world has derived from the christian religion, a su- 
 perior refinement in the sexual sentiments, a more 
 equal and respectful treatment of women, greater 
 dignity and permanence conferred on the institution 
 of marriage, are not the least considerable ; in con- 
 sequence of which the purest affections, and the most 
 sacred duties, are grafted on the stock of the strong- 
 est instincts. 
 
 The aim of all the leading champions of infidelity 
 is to rob mankind of these benefits, and throw them 
 back into a state of gross and brutal sensuality. 
 Mr. Hume asserts adultery to be but a slight offence 
 ivhen knoiviif tvhen secret no crime at all. In the 
 same spirit he represents the private conduct of the 
 profligate Charles, whose debaucheries polluted 
 the age, as the just subject of panegyric. A disciple 
 in the same school has lately had the unblushing 
 effrontery to stigmatize marriage as the worst of all 
 monopolies ; and, in a narrative of his licentious 
 amours, to make a formal apology for departing 
 from his principles, by submitting to its restraints. 
 The popular productions on the continent, which 
 issue from the atheistical school, are incessantly di- 
 rected to the same purpose. 
 
49 
 
 Under every possible aspect in which infidelity 
 can be viewed, it extends the dominion of sensu- 
 ality : it repeals and abrogates every law by which 
 divine revelation has, under such awful sanctions; 
 restrained the indulgence of the passions. The dis- 
 belief of a supreme, omniscient Being, which it in- 
 culcates, releases its disciples from au atteution to 
 the hearty from every care but the preservation of 
 outward decorum ; and the exclusion of the devout 
 affections, and an unseen world, leaves the mind 
 immersed in visible, sensible objects. 
 
 There are two sorts of" pleasures, corporeal and 
 mental. Though we are indebted to the senses for 
 all our perceptions originally, yet those which are 
 at the farthest remove from their immediate imjjves- 
 sions confer the most elevation ou the character, 
 since in proportion as they are multiplied and aug- 
 mented, the slavish subjection to the senses is sub- 
 dued. Hence the true and only antidote to deba- 
 sing sensuality is the possession of a fund of that 
 kijul of enjoyment which is independent of the cor- 
 poreal appetites. Inferior in the perfection of 
 several of his senses to different parts of the brute 
 creation, the superiority of man over them all con- 
 sists in his superior power of multiplying by uew 
 combinations his mental perceptions, and thereby 
 of creating to himself resources of happiness sepa- 
 rate from external sensation. In the scale of 
 
50 
 
 enjoyment, the first remove from sense arc the 
 pleasures of reason and society ; the next are the 
 pleasures of devotion and religion. The former, 
 though totally distinct from those of sense, are yet 
 less perfectly adapted to moderate their excesseg 
 than the last, as they are in a great measure conver- 
 sant with visible and sensible objects. The reli- 
 gious affections and sentiments are, in fact, and wera 
 intended to be the jJroper antagonist of sensuality ; 
 the great deliverer from the thraldom of the appe- 
 tites, by opening a spiritual world, and inspiring 
 hopes and fears, and consolations and joys which 
 bear no relation to the material and sensible uni- 
 verse. The criminal indulgence of sensual pas- 
 sions admits but of two modes of prevention ; the 
 establishment of such laws and maxims in society 
 as shall render lewd profligacy impracticable or in- 
 famous, or the infusion of such principles and hab- 
 its as shall render it distasteful. Human legisla- 
 tures have encountered the disease in the first ; the 
 truths and sanctions of revealed religion in the last 
 of these methods ; to both of which the advocates 
 of modern infidelity are equally hostile. 
 
 So much has been said by many able writers to 
 evince the inconceivable benefit of the marriage insti- 
 tution, that to hear it seriously attacked by men who 
 stile themselves philosophers, at the close of the 
 •ithteenth century, must awaken indignation and 
 
surprise. The object of this discouric leads us to 
 direct our attention particularly to the influence of 
 this institution on the civilization of the world. 
 
 From the records of revelation we learn that mar- 
 riage, or the permanent union of the sexes, was 
 ordained by God, and existed under different modi- 
 fications in the early infancy of mankind, without 
 which they could never have emerged from barbar- 
 ism. For, conceive only what eternal discord, 
 jealousy and violence would ensue, were the objects 
 of the tenderest affections secured to their possessor 
 by no law or tie of moral obligation ; were domestic 
 enjoyments disturbed by incessant fear, and licenti- 
 ousness inflamed by hope. Who could find suffici- 
 ent tranquillity of mind to enable him to plan or 
 execute any continued scheme of action, or what 
 room for arts or sciences, or religion, or virtue, in 
 that state in which the chief earthly happiness was 
 exposed to every lawless invader; where one was 
 racked with an incessant anxiety to keep what the 
 other was equally eager to acquire ? It is not probable 
 in itself, independent of the light of scripture, that the 
 benevolent Author of the human race ever placed 
 them in so wretched a condition at first : it is cer- 
 tain they could not remain in it long without being 
 exterminated. Marriage, by shutting out these 
 evils, and enabling every man to rest secure in his 
 enjoyments, is the great civilizer of the world : with 
 
53 
 
 this security the mind is at liberty to expand in 
 generous affections, has leisure to look abroad, and 
 engage in the pursuits of knowledge, science and 
 virtue. 
 
 Nor is it in this way only that marriage institu^ 
 tions are essential to the welfare of mankind. They 
 are sources of tenderness, as well as the guardi- 
 ans cf peace. Witliout the permanent union of the 
 sexes, there can be no permanent families ; the dis- 
 solution of nuptial ties involves the dissolution of 
 domestic society. But domestic society is the se- 
 minary of social affections, the cradle of sensibility, 
 where the first elements are acquired of that tender- 
 ness and humanity which cement mankind together; 
 and which, were they entirely extinguished, the 
 whole fabric of social institutions would be dis- 
 solved. 
 
 Families are so many centres of attraction, which 
 preserve mankind from being scattered and dissi- 
 pated by the repulsive powers of selfishness. The 
 order of nature is evermore from particulars to gen- 
 erals. — As in the operations of intellect we proceed 
 from the contemplation of individuals to the forma- 
 tion of general abstractions, so in the develope- 
 ment of the passions in like manner, we advance 
 from private to public affections ; from the love of 
 parents, brothers, and sisters, to those more ex- 
 
53 
 
 pauded regards which embrace the immense society 
 of human kind.* 
 
 In order to render men benevolent, they must 
 first be made tender ; for benevolent affections are 
 not the offspring of reasoning ; they result from that 
 culture of the heart, from those early impressions 
 of tenderness, gratitude, and sympathy, which the 
 endearments of domestic life are sure to supply, 
 and for the formation of which, it is the best possi- 
 ble school. 
 
 The advocates of infidelity invert this eternal 
 order of nature. Instead of inculcating the private 
 affections, as a discipline by which the mind is 
 prepared for those of a more public nature, they set 
 them in direct opposition to each other, they pro- 
 pose to build general benevolence on the destruc- 
 tion of individual tenderness, and to make us love 
 the whole species more, by loving every particular 
 part of it less. In pursuit of this chimerical pro- 
 ject, gratitude, humility, conjugal, parental and 
 filial affection, together with every other social dis- 
 position, are reprobated — virtue is limited to a pas- 
 sionate attachment to the general good. Is it not 
 
 * Ai-ctior vero cog-llgatlo socie'iatis propinquorum : ab lllu cniiii iin- 
 mensa socletate humani generis, in exiijuum angustumque concliiditur, 
 nam cum sit hoc natnra commune animantlum ut habeantlibiclinem pro- 
 ci-eandl prima societas in ipso conjug'io est, prqxima in libcris, dcind/. 
 i.na domus, comniunia omnia. Id autem est piinclplum iiibls, ct quiisi 
 sfminarium reipublicse. CVc de Off. 
 
 ^ 
 
54t 
 
 natural to ask, when all the tenderness of life U 
 extinguished, and all the bands of society are un- 
 twisted, from whence this ardent affection for the 
 general good is to spring ? 
 
 When this savage philosophy has completed it* 
 work, when it has taught its disciple to look with 
 perfect indifference on the offspring of his body and 
 the wife of his bosom, to estrange himself from his 
 friends, insult his benefactors, and silence the plead- 
 ings of gratitude and pity ; will he by thus divesting 
 himself of all that is human, be better prepared for 
 the disinterested love of his species ? Will he be- 
 come a philanthropist only because he has ceased 
 to be a man ? Rather, in this total exemption from 
 all the feelings which humanize and soften, in this 
 chilling frost of universal indifference, may we not 
 be certain, selfishness, unmingled and uncontrouled, 
 will assume the empire of his heart ; and that under 
 pretence of advancing the general good, an object to 
 which the fancy may give innumerable shapes, hs 
 will be prepared for the violation of every duty, and 
 the perpetration of every crime ? Extended benevo- 
 lence is the last and most perfect fruit of the private 
 affections : so that to expect to reap the former from 
 the extinction of the latter, is to oppose the means to 
 the end ; is as absurd as to attempt to reach the sum- 
 mit of the highest mountain without passing through 
 the intermediate spaces, or to hope to attain tlie 
 heights of science by forgetting the elements of 
 
53 
 
 knowledge. These absurdities have sprung, how- 
 ever, in the advocates of infidelity, from an igno- 
 rance of human nature, suificient to disgrace even 
 those who did not style themselves philosophers. 
 Presuming, contrary to the experience of every mo- 
 ment, that the affections are awakened by reasonings 
 and perceiving that the general good is an incom- 
 parably greater object in itself than the happiness 
 of any limited number of individuals, they inferred 
 nothing more was necessary than to exhibit it in its 
 just dimensions, to draw the affections towards it: 
 as though the fact of the superior populousness of 
 China to Great Britain needed but to be known to 
 render us indifferent to our domestic concerns, and 
 lead us to direct all our anxiety to the prosperity of 
 that vast but remote empire. 
 
 It is not the province of reason to awaken new pas- 
 sions or open new sources of sensibility ; but to direct 
 us in the attainment of those objects which nature has 
 already rendered pleasing, or to determine among 
 the interfering inclinations and passions which sway 
 the mind, which are the fittest to be preferred. 
 
 Is a regard to the general good then, you will re- 
 ply, to be excluded from the motives of action ? No- 
 thing is more remote from my intention : but as th6 
 nature of this motive has, in my opinion, been much 
 misunderstood by some good men, and abused by 
 others of a different description to the worst of pur- 
 
5Q 
 
 poses, permit me to declare in a few words what ap^ 
 pears to me to be tlie truth on this subject. 
 
 The welfare of the whole system of being must be 
 allowed to be in itself, the object, of all others the most 
 worthy of being pursued ; so that, could the mind 
 distinctly embrace it, and discern at every step ivhat 
 action would infallibly promote it, we should be 
 furnished with a sure criterion of right and wrong, 
 an unerring guide, which would supersede the use 
 and necessity of all inferior rules, laws and prin- 
 ciples. 
 
 But this being impossible, since the good of the 
 whole is a motive so loose and indeterminate, and 
 embraces such an infinity of relations, that before 
 we could be certain what action it prescribed, the 
 season of action would be past ; to weak, short- 
 sighted mortals, providence has assigned a sphere of 
 agency less grand and extensive indeed, but better 
 suited to their limited powers, by implanting certain 
 affections which it is their duty to cultivate, and 
 suggesting particular rules to which they are bound 
 to conform. By these provisions the boundaries of 
 virtue are easily ascertained, at the same time that 
 its ultimate object, the good of the whole, is secured 
 for, since the happiness of the entire system results 
 from the happiness of the several parts, the affec- 
 tions, which confine the attention immediatelif to the 
 latter, conspire in the end to the promotion of the 
 
57 
 
 former ; as the labourer, whose industry is limited 
 to a corner of a large building, performs his part to- 
 wards rearing the structure much more effectually 
 than if he extended his care to the whole. 
 
 As the interest, however, of any limited number 
 of persons may not only not contribute, but may pos- 
 sibly be directly opposed to the general good, (the 
 interest of a family, for example, to that of a pro- 
 vince, or of a nation to that of the world) providence 
 has so ordered it, that in a well regulated mind there 
 springs up, as we have already seen, besides par- 
 ticular attachments, an extended regard to the spe- 
 cies, whose office is twofold : not to destroy and ex- 
 tinguish the more private affections, which is mental 
 parricide ; but first, as far as is consistent with the 
 claims of those who are immediately committed to 
 our care, to do good to all men ; secondly, to exer- 
 cise a jurisdiction and control over the private affec- 
 tions, so as to prohibit their indulgence, whenever it 
 would be attended with manifest detriment to the 
 whole. Thus every part of our nature is brought 
 into action ; all the practical priucij)les of the human 
 heart find an element to move in, each iu its differ- 
 ent fort and manner conspiring, without mutual col- 
 lision, to maintain the harmony of the world and the 
 happiness of the universe.* 
 
 • It is somewhat singular, that many of the fashionable infidels have hit 
 upon a definition of virtue which pea-fectly coincides with that of certain 
 Hictaphvsicftl divines iu America, first invented and defi.-ndcd by that 
 
 8 
 
58 
 
 Before I close this discourse, I cannot omit te 
 mention three circumstances attending the propaga- 
 tion of infidelity by its present abettors, equally 
 new and alarming. 
 
 most acute reasoaer, Jona-i has Edwards. They both place vu-tue ex- 
 clusively in a passion for the general good ; or, as Mr. Edwakds ex- 
 presses it, love to beinff in ffenerah so that our love is always to be pro- 
 poi'tioned to the magnitude of its object in the scale of being, which is 
 liable to the objections I have already stated, as well as to many others 
 which the limits of this note will not permit me to enumerate. Let it 
 suffice to remark, (1.) that virtue on these principles, is an utter impos- 
 sibility : for the system of being, comprehending the great Supreme, is 
 i tr finite ; and therefore, to maintain the proper proportion, the foixe of 
 particular attachment must be infinitely less than the passion for the 
 general good; but the limits of the human mind are not capable of any 
 emotions so infinitely different in degree. (2.) Since our vieivs of the 
 extent of the imiverse are capable of perpetual enlargement, admitting 
 tlie sum of existence is ever the same, we must return back at eacli step 
 to diminish the strength of particular affections, or they will become 
 disproportionate ; and consequently, on these principles, vicious ; so 
 that the balance must be continually fluctuating, by the weights bcii^g 
 taken out of one scale and put into the other. (3.) If virtue consist 
 exclusively in love to being in general, or attachment to the general 
 good, the particular affections are, to every purpose of virtue, uselesi?, 
 and even pernicious ; for their immediate, nay, their necessary tendency 
 is to attract to their objects a proportion of attention which far exceeds 
 their comparative value in the general scale. To allege that the general 
 good is promoted by them, will be of no advantage to the defence of this 
 system, but the contrary, by confessing that a greater sum of happiness 
 is attained by a deviation from, than an adherence to its principles ; 
 unless Its advocates mean by tlie love of being in general, the same as the 
 private r.ffections, which is to confound all the distinctions of language, 
 as well as allthe operations of mind. Let it be i-emembered we have no 
 dispute respecting what is the ultimate end of vii-tue, which is allowed 
 on both sides to be the greatest sum of happiness in the universe. Th» 
 question is merely wliat is virtue itself? or, In other ^v'ords, what are the 
 means appointed for the attainment of that end ? 
 
59 
 
 I. It is the first attempt which has been ever wit 
 nessed on an extensive scale to establish the prin- 
 ciples of atheism; the first eftbrt which history baa 
 recorded to disannul and extinguish the beliet at' 
 all superior powers ; the consequence of which, 
 should it succeed, would be to place mankind in a 
 situation never before experienced, not even during 
 the ages of pagan darkness. The system of poly- 
 theism was as remote from modern infidelity as from 
 true religion. Amidst that rubbish of superstition, 
 the product of fear, ignorance, and vice, which had 
 been accumulating for ages, some faint embers of 
 
 There is Utile clmibt, from some parts of Mr. Godwin's work, entitled, 
 " Political JusticSf' as well as from tlie early liabits of reading, that he 
 was indebted to Mr. Edwards for his principal arguments ag-ainst 
 the private affections ; tliougli, with a daring consistence, he has pur- 
 sued his principles to an extreme from which that most excellent man 
 would have revolted witli horror. The fundamental error of the whole 
 .''ystcm arose, as I conceive, from a mistaken pursuit of simplicity ; 
 fiom a wish to construct a moral system, without leaving sufficient 
 scope for the infinite variety of moral phceiiomena and mental combina- 
 tion ; in consequence of wliich its advocates were induced to place vir- 
 tue e.rcli't'!v:;hj ill some one dispoaition of mind : and, since the passion 
 for the general good is undeniably the ijoi/Ze-sr and niost extensive of all 
 others, when it was once resolved to pliice virtue in any one thing, there 
 remained little room to hesitate which sliouJd be preferred. It might 
 have been worth wliile to reflect, that in tlie natural world there are two 
 kinds of attraction : one, Avhicli holds tlie several [tarts of individual 
 bodies in contact : another, which mahitains the union of bodies them- 
 selves with the general system : and that, though the union, in tlie former 
 case is much more intimate tlian in the latter, each is equally essential 
 to the order of the v/orld. Similar to tliis is tJie relation wliicli the pub- 
 lic and private afii-ctions bear to each other, and their use in the moral 
 jsvstem. 
 
^ 
 
 60 
 
 sacred truth remained unextinguished ; the inter- 
 position of unseen powers in the affairs of men was 
 believed and revered, the sanctity of oaths was 
 maintained, the idea of revelation and traditioUf as 
 a source of religious knowledge, was familiar ; a v^ 
 useful persuasion of the existence of a future world 
 was kept alive, and the greater gods were looked up 
 to as the guardians of the public welfare, the patrons 
 of those virtues which promote the prosperity of 
 states, and the avengers of injustice, perfidy and 
 fraud.* 
 
 * The testimony of PotTBics to the beoeficial effects which resulted 
 from the S3'stein of p ig-an superstition, in fortifying the sentiments of 
 moral obligation, and supporting- the sanctity of oaths, is so weighty and 
 decisive, that it would be an injustice to the subject not to insert it ; 
 more especially as it is impossible to attribute it to the influence of cre- 
 dulity on the author himself, who was evidently a sceptic. It is scarcely 
 necessary to remark, that all the benefits which might in any way flow 
 from superstition, are secured to an incomparably greater degree by the 
 belief of true religion. 
 
 " But among all the useful institutions (says Poltbius) that demonstrate 
 the superior excellence of the Roman government, the most considerable, 
 perhaps, is the opinion which people are taught to hold concerning the 
 gt)ds : and that which other men I'egard as an object of disgrace, ap- 
 pears, in my judgment, to be the very thing b)^ which this republic is 
 chiefly sustained. I mean superstition, which is impressed with all its 
 terrors, and influences the private actions of the citizens and the public 
 "administration of the state, to a degree that can scarcely be exceeded. 
 
 " The ancients, therefore, acted not absurdly, nor without good rea- 
 son, when they inculcated the notions concerning the gods, and the be- 
 lief of infernal punishments ; bat much rather are those of the present a^e 
 to be charged -with rashness and absurdity in endeavouring to extirpate 
 these opinions ; for, not to mention other effects that flow from such an 
 institution, if among the Greeks, for example, a single talent only be 
 intrusted to those who have the management of any of the public money. 
 
61 
 
 Of whatever benefit superstition might formerly Ue 
 productive, by the scattered particles of truth which 
 it contained, these advantages can no.w only be 
 reaped from the soil of true religion ; n.or is there 
 any other alternative left than the belief of Christi- 
 anity, or absolute atheism. In the revolutions of 
 the human mind, exploded opinions are often re- 
 vived ; but an exploded superstition never recovers 
 
 though they give ten written sureties, with as many seals, and twice aa 
 many witnesses, they are unable to discharge the trust reposed in them 
 with integrity. But the Romans, on the other hand, who in the course 
 of their magistracies and in embassies disburse the greatest sums, are 
 prevailed on by the single obligation of an oath, to perform their duty 
 Yith inviolable honesty. And, as in other states, a man is rarely to be 
 found whose hands are pure from public robbery, so among the Romans 
 it is no less rare to discover one that is tainted with this crime." — Hamp- 
 ton's Polybius, vol. 3. b. 6. 
 
 Though the system of paganism is justly condemned by reason and 
 scripture, yet it assumed as ti-ue several principles of the first import- 
 ance to the preservation of public manners ; such as a persuasion of invisi- 
 ble power, of the folly of incurring the divine vengeance for the attain- 
 ment of any present advantage, and the divine approbation of virtue : so 
 that, strictly speaking, it was the mixture of truth in it which gave it all 
 its utility, which is well stated by the great and judicious Hooker in 
 treating on this subject. " Seeing, therefore, it doth thus appear (saj* 
 that venerable author) that the safety of all states depended upon reli- 
 gion ; that religion, unfeignedly loved, perfecteth men's abilities unto all 
 kinds of virtuous sei'vices in the commonwealth; that men's desire is, 
 in general, to hold no religion but the true ; and that whatever good 
 effects do grow out of their religion, who embr.ace, instead of the true, 
 a false, the roots thereof are certain sparks of the light of truth intci-- 
 laingled with the darkness of error : because no religion can wholly and 
 only consist of untruths, we have reason to think that all true virtues 
 are to honour true religion as their parent, and all well-ordered commsn* 
 weftls to love her as their chiefeit stay." — Eccles. Pol. b. 5. 
 
its credit. Tlie pretention of divine revelation is 
 so august and commanding, tliat when its falsehood 
 is once discerned it is covered with all the igno- 
 miny of detected imposture ; it falls from such a 
 height (to change the figure) that it is inevitably 
 crumbled into atoms. Religions^, whether false or 
 true, are not creatures of arbitrary institution. Af- 
 ter discrediting the principles of piety, should our 
 modern free-thinkers find it necessary in order to 
 restrain the excesses of ferocity, to seek for a sub- 
 stitute in some popular superstition, it will prove 
 a vain and impracticable attempt : they may recal 
 the names, restore the altars, and revive the cere- 
 monies ; but to rekindle the spirit of heathenism 
 will exceed their power ; because it is impossible 
 to enact ignorance by law, or to repeal by legisla- 
 tive authority the dictates of reason, and the right 
 of science. 
 
 2. The efforts of infidels to diffuse the principles 
 of infidelity among tiie common people, is another 
 alarming symptom peculiar to the present time. 
 Hume, Bolingbroke, and Gibbon, addressed them- 
 selves solely to the more polished classes of the com- 
 munity, and would have thought their refined spec- 
 ulations debased by an attempt to enlist disciples 
 from among the populace. Infidelity has lately 
 grown condescending : bred in the speculations of 
 a daring philosophy, immured at first in the clois- 
 ters of the learned, and afterwards nursed in the 
 
63 
 
 lap of voluptuousness and of courts ; having at 
 length reached its full maturity, it boldly ventures 
 to challenge the suffrages of the people, solicits the 
 acquaintance of peasants and mechanics, and seeks 
 to draw whole nations to its standard. 
 
 It is not difficult to account for this new state of 
 things. While infidelity was rare, it was employed 
 as the instrument of literary vanity; its wide diffu- 
 sion having disqualified it for answering that pur- 
 pose, it is now adopted as the organ of political 
 convulsion. Literary distinction is conferred by 
 the approbation of a few ; but the total subversion 
 and overthrow of society demands the concurrence 
 of millions. 
 
 S. The infidels of the present day are the first 
 sophists who have presumed to innovate in the very 
 substance of momls: The disputes on moral ques- 
 tions hitherto agitated amongst philosophers have 
 respected the grounds of duty, not the nature of 
 duty Itself; or they have been merely metaphysical, 
 and related to the history of moral sentiments in the 
 mind, the sources and principles from which they 
 were most easily deduced ; they never turne<l on the 
 quality of those dispositions and actions which were 
 to be denominated virtuous. In the firm persuasion 
 that the love and fear of the Supreme Being, the sa- 
 cred observation of promises and oaths, reverence 
 io magistrates, obedience to parents, gratitude to 
 
64* 
 
 benefactors, conjugal fidelity, and parental tender- 
 ness, were primary virtues, and the chief support of 
 every commonwealth, they were unanimous. The 
 curse denounced upon such as remove ancient land- 
 marks, upon those who call good evil and evil good, 
 put light for darkness and darkness for light, who 
 employ their faculties to subvert the eternal distinc- 
 tions of right and wrong, and thus to poison the 
 streams of virtue at their source, falls with accumu- 
 lated weight on the advocates of modern infidelity, 
 and on them alone. 
 
 Permit me to close this discourse with a few se- 
 rious reflections. — There is much, it must be con- 
 fessed, in the apostacy of multitudes, and the rapid 
 progress of infidelity, to awaken our fears for the 
 virtue of the rising generation ; but notliing to shake 
 our faith ; nothing which scripture itself does not 
 give us room to expect. The features which com- 
 pose the character of apostates, their profaneness, 
 presumption, lewdness, impatience of subordination, 
 restless appetite for change, vain pretensions to free- 
 dom and to emancipate the world, while themselves 
 are the slaves of lust, the weapons with which they 
 attack Christianity, and the snares they spread for 
 tlKi unwary, are depicted in the clearest colours by 
 the pencil of prophecy. Knowing this first (says 
 Peter) that there shall come in the last days scoffers, 
 walking after their own lusts. ..2 Pet. iii. 3. In the 
 same epistle he more fully describes the persons he 
 
(55 
 
 alludes to 5 as chieflii them which walk after the 
 flesh, in the lustofuncleannessj and despise goverri' 
 ment ; presumptuous are they, self-willed^ they are 
 not afraid to speak evil of dignities ; sporting them- 
 selves in their oicn deceivings, having eyes full of 
 adultery, and that cannot cease from sin; beguiling 
 unstable souls : for when they speak great swelling 
 words of vanity, they allure through ike lusts of the 
 flesh, through much wantonness, those that were 
 clean escaped from them who live in error ; while 
 they promise them liberty, they themselves are the 
 servants of corruption — 2 Pet. ii. Of the same 
 characters Jiule admonishes us to remember that 
 they were foretold as mockers, who should be in the 
 last time, who should walk after their oxen ungodly 
 lusts. These be they (he adds) who separate them- 
 selves, (by apostacy) sensual not having the Spirit, 
 Infidelity is an evil of short duration. ^' It has (as 
 a judicious writer observes) no individual subsist- 
 ence given it in the system of prophecy . It is not a 
 BEAST ; but a mere putrid excrescence of the papal 
 beast : an excrescence ichich, though it may diffuse 
 death through every vein of the body on which it 
 grew, yet shall die along with 2^."* Its enormities 
 will hasten its overthrow^. It is impossible that a 
 system which, by villifyins; every virtue, and em- 
 bracing the patronage of almost every vice and crime, 
 wages war with all the order and civilization of tha 
 
 * See an excellent work, lately published by the Rev. .4. fw/Zc/-, entitled. 
 *• The Gospel its own W itness." 
 
 9 
 
world ; wliichj equal to the establishment of nothing, 
 is armed only with the energies of destruction, can 
 long retain an ascendency. It is in no shape formed 
 for perpetuity. Sudden in its rise, and impetuous 
 in its progress, it resembles a mountain -torrent, 
 which is loud, filthy, and desolating ; but, being 
 fed by no perennial spring, is soon drained off. and 
 disappears. By permitting to a certain extent the 
 prevalence of infidelity, providence is preparing new 
 triumphs for religion. In asserting its authority, 
 the preachers of the gospel have hitherto found it 
 necessary to weigh the prospects of immortality 
 against the interests of time ; to strip the world of 
 its charms, to insist on the deceitfolness of pleasure, 
 the unsatisfying nature of riches, the emptiness of 
 grandeur, and the nothingness of a mere worldly 
 life. Topics of this nature will always have their 
 use ; but it is not by such representations alone 
 that the importance of religion is evinced. The 
 prevalence of impiety has armed us with new wea- 
 pons in its defence. 
 
 Religion being primarily intended to make men 
 wise unto salvation, the support it ministers to social 
 order, the stability in confers on government and 
 laws, is a subordijiate species of advantage which 
 we should have continued to enjoy without reflect- 
 ing on its cause, but for the developement of deis- 
 tical principles, and the experiment which has been 
 made of their effects in a neighbouring country. It 
 
67 
 
 bad been the constant boast of infidels, that their 
 system, more liberal and generous than Christianity, 
 needed but to be tried to produce an immense ac- 
 cession to human happiness; and christian nations, 
 careless and supine, retaining little of religion but 
 the profession, and disgusted with its restraints, 
 lent a favourable ear to these pretensions. God 
 permitted the trial to be made. In one country, 
 and that the centre of Christendom, revelation un- 
 derwent a total eclipse,* while atheism, perform- 
 ing on a darkened theatre its strange and fearful 
 tragedy, confounded the first elements of society, 
 blended every age, rank and sect, in indiscriminate 
 proscription and massacre, and convnlsed all Eu- 
 rope to its centre ; that the imperishable memorial 
 of these events might teach the last generations of 
 mankind to consider religion as the pillar of society, 
 the safeguard of nations, the parent of social order, 
 which alone has power to curb the fury of the pas- 
 sions, and secure to every one his rights; to the 
 laborious the reward of their industry, to the rich 
 the enjoyment of their wealth, to nobles the preser- 
 vation of their honours, and to princes the stability 
 of their thrones. 
 
 * It is worthy of attention that Mcrcier, a wariD advocate of" the FreTich 
 revolution, and a professed deist, in liis recent work, entitled " New 
 I'aiis," acknowledges and laments tlic extinction of religion in Fr;ince. 
 " JVe have, (says he) in proscribing superstition, destroyed all religious sen- 
 t intent ; but this is not tlie ivay to regenerate the -world" See Appendix 
 to the 30th vol. Monthly Ucview. 
 
We miglit ask the patrons of infidelity what fury 
 impels them to attempt the subversion of Christiani- 
 ty ? Is it that they have discovered a better system? 
 To what virtues are their principles favourable ? 
 Or is there one which christians have not carried 
 to a higher perfection than any of which their party 
 can boast? Have they discovered a more excellent 
 rule of life, or a better hope in death than that 
 which the scriptures suggest ? Above all, what are 
 the pretentions on which they rest their claims to be 
 the guides of mankind ; or which emboldened them 
 to expect we should trample on the experience of 
 ages, and abandon a religion which has been attest- 
 ed by a train of miracles and prophecies, in which 
 millions of our forefathers have found a refuge in 
 every trouble, and consolation in the hour of death ; 
 a religion which has been adorned with the high- 
 est sanctity of character and splendour of talents, 
 which enrols amongst its disciples the names of 
 Bacon, Newton, and Locke, the glory of their spe- 
 cies, and to which these illustrious men were proud 
 to dedicate the last and best fruits of their immortal 
 genius? 
 
 If the question at issue is to be decided by argu- 
 ment, nothing can be added to the triumpl?. of Chris- 
 tianity ; if by an appeal to authority, what have our 
 adveisaries to oj/pose to these great names? Where 
 are the infidels of such pure, uncontaminated mo- 
 -rals; unshaken probity, and extended benevolence, 
 
«9 
 
 that we should be iu danger of being seduced into 
 impiety by their example? Into what obscure reces- 
 ses of misery, into what dungeons have their philan- 
 thropists penetrated, to lighten the fetters and re- 
 lieve the sorrows of the helpless captive? What 
 barbarous tribes have their apostles visited? What 
 distant climes have they explored, enco^ipassed 
 "with cold, nakedness and want, to diffuse princi- 
 ples of virtue, and the blessings of civilization ? Or 
 will they rather choose to wave their pretensions 
 to this extraordinary, and in tlieir eyes, eccentric 
 species of benevolence, (for infidels, we know, are 
 sworn enemies to enthusiasm of every sort) and rest 
 theii' character on their political exploits ; on their 
 efforts to reanimate the virtue of a sinking state, to 
 restrain licentiousness, to calm the tumult of popu- 
 lar fury ; and by inculcating the spirit of justice, 
 moderation, and pity for fallen greatness, to miti- 
 gate the inevitable horrors of revolution? Our 
 adversaries will at least have the discretion, if not 
 the modesty, to recede from this test. 
 
 More than all, their infatuated eagerness, their 
 parricidal zeal to extinguish a sense of Deity, 
 must excite astonishment and horror. Is the idea 
 of an almighty and perfect Ruler unfriendly to any 
 passion which is consistent with innocence, or an 
 obstruction to any design which it is not shameful 
 to avow ? Eternal God, on what are thine enemies 
 intent! What are those enterprises of guilt and 
 
70 
 
 hovror. that, for the safety of their performers, re- 
 quire to be enveloped in a darkness which the eye 
 of heaven must not pierce! Miserable men ! Proud 
 of being the offspring of chance; in love with uni- 
 versal disorder; whose happiness is involved in the 
 belief of the\r being no witness to their designs, 
 
 and who are at ease only because they suppose 
 
 « 
 
 themselves inhabitants of a forsaken and fatherless 
 world ! 
 
 Having been led by the nature of the subject to 
 consider chiefly the manner in which sceptical im- 
 piety affects the welfare of states, it is the more re- 
 quisite to warn you against that most fatal mistake 
 of regarding religion as an engine of policy ; and to 
 recal to your recollection that the concern we have 
 in it is much more as individuals than as collective 
 bodies, and far less temporal than eternal. The 
 happiness which it confers in the present life are 
 blessings which it scatters by the way in its march 
 to immortality. That future condition of being which 
 it ascertains, and for which its promises and truths 
 are meant to prepare us, is the ultimate end of hu- 
 man societies, the iinal scope and object of present 
 existence ; in comparison of which all the revolutions 
 of nations, and all the vicissitudes of time, are light 
 and transitory. Godliness has, it is true, the jJvom- 
 iseofthe life that iioic is ; but chiefly of that which 
 is to come. Other acquisitions may be requisite to 
 make men great: but be assured the religion of Je- 
 
sus is alone sufficient to make them good and happy. 
 Powerful sources of consolation in sorrow, unsha- 
 ken fortitude amidst the changes and perturbations 
 of the world, humility remote from meanness, and 
 dignity unstrained by pride, contentment in every 
 station, passions pure and calm, with habitual se- 
 renity, the full enjoyment of life, undisturbed by the 
 dread of dissolution or the fear of an hereafter, are 
 its invaluable gifts. To these enjoyments, however, 
 you will necessarily continue strangers, unless you 
 resign yourselves wholly to its power; for the con- 
 solations of religion arc reserved to reward, to 
 sweeten, and to stimulate obedience. Many, with- 
 out renouncing the profession of Christianity, with- 
 out formally rejecting its distinguishing doctrines, 
 live in such an habitual violation of its laws, and 
 contradiction to its spirit, that conscious they have 
 more to fear tlian to hope from its truth, they arc 
 never able to contemplate it without terror. It haunts 
 their imagination, instead of tranquillizing their 
 hearts, and hangs with depressing weight on all 
 their enjoyments and pursuits. Their religion, in- 
 stead of comforting them under their trouble, is it- 
 self tijeir greatest trouble, from wh.ich they seek re- 
 fuge in the dissipation and vanity of the world, until 
 the throbs and tumults of conscience force them back 
 upon religion. Thus suspended betwixt opposite 
 powers, the sport of contradictory influences, they 
 are disqualified for the happiness of both worlds ; 
 and neither enjoy the pleasures of sin, nor the peace 
 
of piety. Is it surprising to find a mind Ihus bewil- 
 dered in uncertainty, and dissatisfied with itself, 
 court deception, and embrace with eagerness every 
 pretext to mutilate the claims and enervate the au- 
 thority of Christianity ; forgetting that it is of the 
 very essence o/lbe religious principle to preside and 
 control, and inat it is impossible to serve God and 
 mammon F It/is this class of professors who are 
 chiefly in ^afnger of being entangled in the snares 
 of infidel ityi 
 
 The cham/pions of infidelity have much more rea- 
 son to be ashamed than to boast of such converts. 
 For what c^n be a stronger presumption of the 
 falsehood of a system, than that it is the opiate of a 
 restless conscience; that it prevails with minds of a 
 certain description, not because they find it true, 
 but because they feel it necessary; and that in 
 adopting it they consult less with their reason than 
 with their vices and their fears? It requires but lit- 
 tle sagacity to foresee that speculations which ori- 
 ginate in guilt must end in ruin. Infidels are not 
 themselves satisfied with the truth of their system ; 
 for had they any settled assurance of its principles, 
 in consequence of calm dispassionate investigation^ 
 they would never disturb the quiet of the world by 
 their attempts to proselyte ; but would lament their 
 own infelicity, in not being able to perceive sufiici- 
 ent evidence for the truth of religion, which furnishes 
 such incentives to virtue, and inspires such exalted 
 
hopes. Having nothing to substitute in the place 
 of religion, it is absurd to suppose that, in opposi- 
 tion to the collective voice of every country, age 
 and time, proclaiming its necessity, solicitude for 
 the welfare of mankind impels them to destroy it. 
 
 To very different motives must their conduct be 
 imputed More like conspirators than philoso- 
 phers, in spite of the darkness with which they en- 
 deavour to surround themselves, some rays of 
 unwelcome conviction will penetrate, some secret 
 apprehensions that all is not right will make them- 
 selves felt, which they find nothing so effectual to 
 quell as » attempt to enlist fresh disciples, who, 
 in exchan^:e for new principles, impart confidence, 
 and diminish fear. For the same reason it is sel- 
 dom they attnck Christianity by argument : their fa- 
 vourite weapons are ridicule, obscenity and blas- 
 phemy ; as the most miserable outcasts of society 
 are, of all men, found most to delight in vulgar 
 merriment and senseless riot, 
 
 Jesus Christ seems to have his fan in his handy 
 and to be thoroughly purging his floor ; and nomi- 
 nal christians will probably be scattered like chaff. 
 But has real Christianity any thing to fear? Have 
 not the degenerate manners and corrupt lives of 
 multitudes in the visible church been, ou the con- 
 trary, the principal occasion of scandal and offence? 
 Infidelity, without intending it, is gradually remov- 
 
 10 
 
74 
 
 ing this reproach : possessing the property of at- 
 tracting to itself the raorbid humours which pervade 
 the church, until the christian profession on the one 
 hand is reduced to a sound and healthy state, and 
 scepticism on the other exhibits nothing but a mass 
 of putridity and disease. 
 
 In a vieAv of the final issue of the contest, we 
 should find little cause to lament the astonishing 
 prevalence of infidelity, but for a solicitude for the 
 rising generation, to whom its principles are recom- 
 mended by two motives, with young minds the most 
 persuasive ; the love of independence, and the love 
 of pleasure. With respect to the first, ^e would 
 earnestly entreat the young to remember that by 
 the unanimous consent of all ages, modesty, docility, 
 and reverence to superior years, and to parents 
 above all, have been considered as their appropri- 
 ate virtues f a guard assigned by the immutable 
 laws of God and nature on the inexperience of 
 youth : and, with respect to the second, that Chris- 
 tianity prohibits no pleasures that are innocent, 
 lays no restraints that are capricious ; but that the 
 sobriety and purity which it enjoins, by strengthen- 
 ing the intellectual powers, and preserving the fac- 
 ulties of mind and body in undiminished vigour, lay 
 the surest foundation of present peace and future 
 eminence. At such a season as this it becomes an 
 urgent duty on parents, guardians, and tutors, to 
 watch, not only over the morals, but the princi- 
 
75 
 
 pies of those committed to their care ; to make it 
 appear that a concern for their eternal welfare is 
 their chief concern ; and to embue them early with 
 that knowledge of the evidences of Christianity, 
 and that profound reverence for the scriptures 
 that, with the blessing of God, (which with sub- 
 mission they may then expect) may Jceep them from 
 this hour of temptation, that has come upon all the 
 world, to try them that dwell on the earth. 
 
 To an attentive observer of the signs of the times, 
 it will appear one of the most extraordinary phse- 
 nomena of this eventful crisis, that, amidst the rav- 
 ages of atheism and infidelity, real religion is evi- 
 dently on the increase. The kingdom of God, we 
 know, Cometh not with observation ; but still there 
 are not wanting manifest tokens of its approach. 
 The personal appearance of the Son of God was 
 announced by the shaking of nations : his spiritual 
 kingdom, in all probability, will be established in 
 the inidst of similar convulsions and disorders. 
 The blasphemous impiety of the enemies of God, as 
 well as the zealous efforts of his sincere worship- 
 pers, will doubtless be overruled to accomplish the* 
 purposes of his unerring providence : while, in in- 
 ilicting the chastisements of offended Deity on cor- 
 rupt communities and nations, infidelity marks its 
 progress by devastation and ruin, by the prostration of 
 thrones and concussion of kingdoms ; thus appal- 
 nng the inhabitants of the world, and compelling 
 
76 
 
 them to take refuge in the church of God, the trua 
 sanctuary ; the stream of divine knowledge, unob- 
 served, is flowing in new channels, winding its 
 course among humble vallies, refresHing thirsty de* 
 serts, and enriching with far other and higher bless- 
 ings than those of commerce, the most distant climes 
 and nations, until agreeably to the prediction of 
 propliecy, the knowledge of the Lord shall fill and 
 cover the whole earth. 
 
 Within the limits of this discourse it will be im- 
 practicable to exliibit the evidences of Christianity ; 
 nor is it my design : but there is one consideration, 
 resulting immediately from my text, which is enti- 
 tled to great weight with all who believe in the one 
 living and true God as the sole object of worship. 
 The Ephesians, in common with other gentiles, are 
 described in the text as being, previous to their con- 
 version, without God in the world ; that is, without 
 any just and solid acquaintance with his character, 
 destitute of the knowledge of his will, the institutes 
 of his worship, and the hopes of his favour : to the 
 truth of which representation whoever possesses the 
 slis;htest acquaintance with pagan antiquity must as- 
 sent. Nor is it a fact less ineontestible, that, while 
 human philosophy was never able to abolish idolatry 
 in a single village, the promulgation of the gospel 
 overthrew it in a great part (and that the most en- 
 lighlened) of the world. If the unity and perfec- 
 tions of God, together with his moral goverumentj 
 
77 
 
 and exclusive right to the worship of mankind, are 
 truths, they cannot reasouahly be denied to be truths 
 of the first importance, and infinitely to outweigh the 
 greatest discoveries in science, because they turn 
 the hopes, fears, and interests of man into a totally 
 different channel from that in which they must other- 
 wise flow. Wherever these principles are first ad- 
 mitted, there a new dominion is erected, and a new 
 system of laws established. 
 
 But since all events are under divine direction, 
 it is reasonable to suppose that the great parent, 
 after suffering his creatures to continue for ages ig- 
 norant of his true character, should at length, in the 
 course of his providence, fix upon falsehood, and 
 that alone, as the effectual method of making him- 
 self known ; and that what the virtuous exercise of 
 reason in the best and wisest men was never per- 
 mitted to accomplish, he should confer on fraud 
 and delusion the honour of effecting? It ill com- 
 ports with the majesty of truth, or the character of 
 God, to believe he has built the noblest superstruc- 
 ture on the weakest foundation ; or reduced man- 
 kind to the miserable alternative either of remain- 
 ing destitute of the knowledge of himself, or of deriv- 
 ing it from the polluted source of impious imposture. 
 We therefore feel ourselves justified on this occa- 
 sion in adopting the triumphant boast of the great 
 apostle : Where is the wise, where is the scribe, 
 where is the disfuter of this world P Hath not God 
 
78 
 
 made foolish the wisdom of this world ? For after 
 that, in the wisdom of God, the world by wisdom 
 knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of 
 preaching to save them that believe. 
 
 NOTE TO PAGE 21. If ^, 
 
 The fury of the most sanguinary parties -was especially pointed against the 
 ehrintian priesthood, &c. — The author finds he has given great offence to 
 some friends whom he highly esteems, by applying the term christian 
 priesthood to the popish clergy. He begs leave to make a remark or two 
 by w.iy of apology. 
 
 1. It is admitted by all candid protestants that salvation is attainable 
 in tlie Roman Catholic church : but he should be glad to be informed 
 what part of the christian covenant entitles us to expect the salvation of 
 those (where the gospel is promulgated) who are not even a branch of 
 the visible church of Christ. The papistical tenets are either /zmdaw^ra- 
 tally erroneous, on which supposition it is certain no papist can be saved ; 
 or their errors must be consistent with christian faith, and consequently 
 cannot be a valid reason for excluding those who maintain them from 
 being a part (a most corrupt part, if you please ; but still a part) of the 
 christian church. 
 
 2. The popish clergy were persecuted under the character of christi- 
 ans, not under the notion of heretics or scismatlcs. They who were the 
 subjects ol" persccxition were certainly the best judges of its aim and 
 direction : .and when the arclibishop of Paris and others endeavoured to 
 screen themselves from its effects by a recantation, what did they re- 
 cant ? Was it popery ? No : but the profession of Christianity. These 
 apostates, doubtless, meant to remove the ground of ofTence, which, in 
 their opinion, was the christian profession. If the soundest ecclesiastical 
 historians have not refused the honours of martyrdom to such as suffered 
 in the cause of truth amongst the gnostks, it ill becomes the liberality 
 
79 
 
 •f the present age to contemplate, with sullen indifFerence, or malicious 
 joy, the sufferings of conscientious catholics. 
 
 3. At the period to which the author refers, christian worship of et«»y 
 kind was prohibited ; while, in solemn mockery of religion, adoration 
 was paid to a strumpet under the title of the goddess of reason. Is it i 
 necessary to prove that men who were thus abandoned, must be hostile 
 to true religion under every form ? Or, if there be any gradations in 
 their abhorrence, to tliat most which is the most pure and perfect ? 
 Are atheism and obscenity more congenial to the protestant than to the 
 popish profession ? 'I'o have incurred the hatred of the ruling party of 
 France at tlie season alluded to, is an honour which the author would be 
 sorry to resign, as the exclusive boast of the church of Rome. To have 
 been the object of the partiality of such bloody and inhum.in mon- 
 sters, would have been a stain ii[)on protestants which the virtue of ages 
 could not obliterate. 
 
REFLECTIONS ON WAR. 
 
 A 
 
 SERMON, 
 
 PREACHED AT 
 
 THE BAPTIST MEETING, 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, ENGLAND, 
 
 ON TUESDAY, JUNE 1, 1802. 
 BEING THE DAY OF THANKSGIVING 
 
 FOR 
 
 A GENERAL PEACE. 
 
 BY ROBERT HALL, A. M. 
 
 TROM THE LATEST LONDON EDITION. 
 
 11 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 The writep is not aware that the sentiments contained 
 in tbis Discourse require apology, though he is convinced 
 he needs the candour of the puhlic with respect to the im- 
 perfect manner in which they are exliibited. If it be 
 deemed an impropriety to introduce political reflections 
 in a discourse from the pulpit, he wishes it to he remem- 
 bered that these are of a general na(ure, and such as, 
 rising out of the subject and the occasion, he cannot sup- 
 pose it improper for a christian minister to impress. With 
 party politics he is determined to have as little to do as 
 possible, and, in the exercise of his professional duties, 
 notliing at all. — Conscious that what is here advanced was 
 meant neither to flatter nor offend any party, he is not 
 very solicitous about those misconstructions or misrepre- 
 sentations to which the purest intentions are exposed. It 
 will probably be objected, that he has dwelt too much on 
 Ihe horrors of war for a Thanksgiving Sermon ; in answer 
 to which he begs it may be remembered, that as tlie plea- 
 sure of rest is relative to fatigue, and that of ease to pain, 
 so the blessing of peace, considered merebj as peace, is ex- 
 actly proportioned to the calamity of war. As this, when- 
 ever it is justiflable, arises out of a. necessity y not a desire 
 of acquisition, its natural and proper effl'ctis merely tore- 
 place a nation in the state it was in before that necessity was 
 incurred, or, in other words, to recover what was lost, and 
 secure what was endangered. The writer intended to add 
 something more on the moral eftects of war, (a subject 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 which he should be glad to see undertaken by some supe- 
 rior hand) but found it would not be compatible with the 
 limits he determined to assign himself. The Sermon having 
 been preached for the benefit of a Benevolent Society insti- 
 tuted at Cambridge, will sufficiently account for the obser- 
 vations on charity to the poor, introduced towards the close. 
 The good which has already arisen from the exertions 
 of that Society is more than equal to its most sanguine 
 expectations J and should this publication contribute in 
 the smallest degree to the formation of similar ones in 
 other parts, the Author will think himself abundantly 
 compensated for the little trouble it has cost him. 
 Cambridge, June 19, 1802. 
 
SERMON. 
 
 PSALM 46, VERSES 8, 9. 
 
 Come, heliold the works of the Lord, ivliat desolations he hath 
 made in the earth. He malxelh wars to cease unto the end 
 of the earth ; he hreakelh the how, and eutteth the spear 
 in sunder ; he harneth the chariot in thejire. 
 
 1 O tlie merciful interposition of Providence we 
 owe it that our native land has been exempted for 
 nearly sixty years from being the seat of war ; our 
 insular situation having preserved us, under God, 
 from foreign invasion ; the admirable balance of our 
 constitution from internal discord. We have heard 
 indeed, of the ravages of armies, and the depopula- 
 tion of countries, but they have merely supplied a 
 topic of discourse, and have occasioned no serious 
 alarm. The military system, as far as it has ap- 
 peared in England, has been seen only on the side 
 of its gaiety and pomp, a pleasing show, without 
 imparting any idea of its horrors ; and the rumour of 
 battles and slaughter, conveyed from afar, has rather 
 
86 
 
 amused our leisure, than disturbed our repose. 
 While we cannot be too thankful for our security, 
 it has placed us under a disadvantage in one re- 
 spect ; which is, that we have learned to contem- 
 plate war with too much indifference, and to feel 
 for the unhappy countries immediately involved in 
 it too little compassion. Had we ever experienced 
 its calamities, we should celebrate the restoration of 
 peace on this occasion with warmer emotions than 
 there is room to apprehend are at present felt. To 
 awaken those sentiments of gratitude which we are 
 this day assembled to express, it will be proper brief- 
 ly to recal to your attention some of the dreadful ef- 
 fects of hostility. Real war, my brethren, is a very 
 different thing from that painted image of it, which 
 you see on a parade, or at a review : it is the most 
 awful scourge that Providence employs for the chas- 
 tisement of man. It is the garment of vengeance 
 with which the Deity arrays himself, when he comes 
 forth to punish the inhabitants of the earth. It is 
 the day of the Lord, cruel both with icrath and fierce 
 anger. It is thus described by the sublimest of 
 prophets : Howl ye, for the day of the Lord is at 
 hand ; it shall come as a destruction from the Al- 
 mighty : therefore shall all hands be faint, and every 
 man's heart shall melt ; pangs and sorroivs shall 
 take hold on them ; they shall be in pain as a tvo- 
 man that travaileth ; they shall be amazed one at 
 another ; their faces shall be as flames. Behold the 
 day of the Lord cometh, cruel both icith wrath and 
 
87 
 
 fierce anger, to lay the land desolate ; and he shall 
 destroy the sinners out of it. For the stars of heaven 
 and the constellations thereof, shall not give their 
 light ; the sun shall be darkened in his. going forth, 
 and the moon shall not give her light. 
 
 War maybe considered in two views, as it affects 
 the happiness, and as it affects the virtue of man- 
 kind ; as a source of misery, and as a source of 
 crimes. 
 
 1. Though ice must all die, as the woman of Te- 
 koa said, and are as water spilt upon the ground, 
 which cannot be gathered up ; yet it is impossible 
 for a humane mind to contemplate the rapid extinc- 
 tion of innumerable lives without concern. To 
 perish in a moment, to be hurried instantaneously, 
 without preparation and without warning, into the 
 presence of the Supreme Judge, has something in it 
 inexpressibly awful and affecting. Since the com- 
 mencement of those hostilities which are now so 
 happily closed, it may be reasonably conjectured 
 that not less than half a million of our fellow-crea- 
 tures have fallen a sacrifice. Half a million of be- 
 ings, sharers of the same nature, warmed with the 
 same hopes, and as fondly attached to life as our- 
 selves, have been prematurely swept into the grave ; 
 each of whose deaths has pierced the heart of a wife, 
 a parent, a brother, or a sister. How many of these 
 scenes of complicated distress have occurred since 
 
88 
 
 the commencement of hostilities, is known only to 
 Omniscience : that they are innumerable cannot ad- 
 mit of a doubt. In some parts of Europe, perhaps, 
 there is scarcely a family exempt ! 
 
 Though the whole race of man is doomed to dis- 
 solution, and we are all hastening to our long 
 home ; yet at each successive moment, life and 
 death seem to divide betwixt them the dominion of 
 mankind, and life to have the larger share. It is 
 otherwise in war: death reigns there without a 
 rival, and without control. * War is the work, the 
 element, or rather the sport and triumph of death, 
 who glories not only in the extent of his conquest, 
 but in the richness of his spoil. In the other me- 
 thods of attack, in the other forms which death as- 
 sumes, the feeble and the aged, who at the best 
 can live but a short time, are usually the victims ; 
 here it is the vigorous and the strong. It is remarked 
 by the most ancient of poets, that in peace children 
 bury their parents, in war parents bury their chil- 
 dren : nor is the difference small. Children lament 
 their parents, sincerely, indeed, but with that mode- 
 rate and tranquil sorrow, which it is natural for 
 those to feel who are conscious of retaining many 
 tender ties, many animating prospects. Parents 
 mourn for their children with the bitterness of des^ 
 pair ; the aged parent, the widowed mother, loses, 
 when she is deprived of her cliildren, every thingbut 
 the capacity of suffering; her heart, withered and 
 
desolate, admits no other oNject, cherishes no other 
 hope. It is Rachel weeping for her children, and 
 refusing to he comforted, because they are not. 
 
 But, to confine our attention to the number of the 
 slain, would give us a very inadequate idea of the 
 ravages of the sword. The lot of those who perish 
 instantaneously may be considered, apart from reli- 
 gious prospects, as comparatively happy, since they 
 are exempt from those lingering diseases and slow 
 torments to which others are liable. We cannot see 
 an individual expire, though a stranger or an ene- 
 my, without being sensibly moved, and prompted 
 by compassion to lend him every assistance in our 
 power. Every trace of resentment vanishes in a 
 moment: every other emotion gives way to pity and 
 terror. In these last extremities we remember no- 
 thing but the respect and tenderness due to our com- 
 mon nature. What a scene then must a field of 
 battle present, where thousands are left without as- 
 sistance, and without pity, with their wounds ex- 
 posed to the piercing air, while the blood, freezing 
 as it flows, binds them to the earth, amidst the 
 trampling of horses, and the insults of an enraged 
 foe ! If they arc spared by the humanity of the 
 enemy, and carried from the field, it is but a pro- 
 longation of torment. Conveyed in uneasy vchi- 
 elee, often to a remote distance, through roads 
 almost impassible, they are lodged in ill-prepared 
 receptacles for the wounded and the sick, where the 
 
 1^ 
 
90 
 
 variety of distress baffles all the efforts of humaH= 
 ity and skill, and renders it impossible to give to 
 each the attention he demands. Far from their na- 
 tive home, no tender assiduities of friendship, no 
 well-known voice, no wife, or mother, or sister, 
 is near to sooth their sorrows, relieve their thirst, 
 or close their eyes in death ! Unhappy man ! and 
 must you be swept into the grave unnoticed and 
 unnumbered, and no friendly tear be shed for your 
 sufferings, or mingled with your dust ? 
 
 "We must remember, however, that as a very small 
 proportion of a military life is spent in actual com- 
 bat, so it is a very small part of its miseries which 
 must be ascribed to this source. More are consum- 
 ed by the rust of inactivity than by the edge of the 
 sword ; confined to a scanty or unwholesome diet, 
 exposed in sickly climates, harrassed with tire- 
 some marches and perpetual alarms ; their life is a 
 continual scene of hardships and dangers. They 
 grow familiar with hunger, cold and watchfulness. 
 Crowded into hospitals and prisons, contagion 
 spreads amongst their ranks, till the ravages of dis- 
 ease exceed those of the enemy. 
 
 We have hitherto only adverted to the sufferings 
 of those who arc engaged in the profession of arms 
 without taking into our account the situation of the 
 countries whicli are the scene of hostilities. How 
 dreadful to hold every thing at the mercy of an en- 
 
cmy, and to receive life itsself as a boon dependent 
 on the sword. How boundless the fears which such 
 a situation must inspire, where the issues of life and 
 death are determined by no known laws, principles, 
 or customs, and no conjecture can be formed of our 
 destiny, except as far as it is dimly decyphered in 
 characters of blood, in the dictates of revenge, and 
 the caprices of power. Conceive but for a moment 
 the consternation which the approach of an invading 
 army would impress on the peaceful villages in this 
 neighbourhood. When you have placed yourselves 
 for an instant in that situation, you will karn to 
 sympathize with those unhappy countries which 
 have sustained the ravages of arms. But how is it 
 possible to give you an idea of these horrors ? Here 
 you behold rich harvests, the bounty of heaven, and 
 the reward of industry, consumed in a moment, or 
 trampled under foot, while famine and pestilence 
 follow the steps of desolation. There the cottages 
 of peasants given up to the flames, mothers expiring 
 through fear, not for themselves, but their infants ; 
 the inhabitants flying with their helpless babes in 
 all directions, miserable fugitives on their native 
 soil ! In another part you witness opulent cities tak- 
 en by storm ; the streets, where no sounds were 
 heard but those of peaceful industry, filled on a sud- 
 den with slaughter and blood, resounding with the 
 cries of the pursuing and the pursued ; tlie palaces 
 of nobles demolished, the houses of the rich pillaged, 
 the chastity of virgins and of matrons violated, and 
 
9S 
 
 every age, sex, and rank, mingled in promiscuous 
 massacre and ruin. 
 
 If we consider the maxims of war which pre- 
 vailed in the ancient world, and which still prevail 
 in many harharous nations, we perceive that those 
 who survive the fury of battle and the insolence of 
 victory, were only reserved for more durable calam- 
 ities ; swept into hopeless captivity, exposed in 
 markets, or plunged in mines, with the melancholy 
 distinction bestowed on princes and warriors, after 
 appearing in the triumphal procession of the con- 
 queror, of being conducted to instant death. The 
 contemplation of such scenes as these, forces on us 
 this awful reflection : that neither the fury of wild 
 beasts, the concussions of the earth, nor the violence 
 of tempests, are to be compared to tlie ravages of arms ; 
 and that nature in her utmost extent, or, more pro- 
 perly, divine justice in its utmost severity, has sup- 
 plied no enemy to man so terrible as man. 
 
 Still however, it ^vould be liappy for mankind if 
 the effects of national hostility terminated here ; 
 but the fact is, that they who are farthest removed 
 from its immediate desolations, share largely in the 
 calamity. They are drained of the most precious 
 part of their population, their youth, to repair the 
 waste made by the sword. They are drained of 
 their wealth, by the prodigious expense incurred in 
 the equipment of fleets, and the subsistence of ar- 
 
93 
 
 mies in remote parts. The aeeumulation of debt 
 and taxes diininishes the public strength, and de- 
 presses private industry. An augmentation in the 
 price of the necessaries of life, inconvenient to all 
 classes, fall with peculiar weight on the labouring 
 poor, who must carry their industry to market ev- 
 ery day, and tlierefore cannot wait for that advance 
 of price which gradually attaches to every other 
 article. Of all people the poor are on this account 
 the greatest sufferers by war, and have the most 
 reason to rejoice in the restoration of peace. As it 
 is the farthest from my purpose to awaken unpleas- 
 ing reflections, or to taint the pure satisfaction of 
 this day, by the smallest infusion of political acri- 
 mony, it will not be expected I should apply these 
 remarks to the peculiar circumstances of this coun- 
 try, though it >vould be unpardonable in us to forget 
 (for to forget our danger is to forget our mercies) 
 how nearly we have been reduced to famine, prin- 
 cipally it is true, through a failure in the crops, 
 but greatly aggravated, no doubt, in its pressure, 
 by our being engaged in a war of unexampled ex- 
 penditure and extent. 
 
 In commercial states (of which Europe princi- 
 pally consists) whatever interrupts tlieir intercourse 
 is a fatal blow to national prosperity. Such states 
 having a mutual dependence on each other, the ef- 
 fects of their hostility extend far beyond the parties 
 engaged in the contest. If there be a country 
 
94i 
 
 highly commercial, which has a decided superiority 
 in wealth and industry, together with a fleet wliich 
 enables it to protect its trade, the commerce of such 
 a country may survive the shock, but it is at the ex- 
 pense of the commerce of all other nations ; a pain- 
 ful reflection to a generous mind. Even there the 
 usual channels of trade being closed, it is some time 
 before it can force a new passage for itself; previous 
 to which, an almost total stagnation takes place, by 
 "which multitudes are imjioverished, and thousands 
 of the industrious poor, being thrown out of employ- 
 ment, are plunged into wretchedness and beggary. 
 "Who can calculate the number of industrious fami- 
 lies in different parts of the world, to say nothing 
 of our own country, wl»o have been reduced to pov- 
 erty, from this cause, since the peace of Europe 
 was interrupted? 
 
 The plague of a widely extended war, possesses, 
 in fact, a sort of omnipresence, by which it makes 
 itself every M'hevc felt; for while it gives up myri- 
 ads to slaughter in one part of the globe, it is busily 
 employed in scattering over countries, exempt from 
 its immediate desolations, the seeds of famine, pes- 
 tilence and death. 
 
 If statesmen, if christian statesmen at least, had 
 a proper feeling on this subject, and would open 
 their hearts to the reflections which such scenes 
 must inspire, instead of rushing eagerly to arm« 
 
95 
 
 from the thirst of conquest, or the thirst of gain^ 
 would they not hesitate long, would they not try 
 every expedient, every lenient art consistent with 
 national honour, before they ventured on this despe- 
 rate remedy, or rather, before they plunged into 
 this gulph of horror ? 
 
 It is time to proceed to another view of the sub- 
 ject, which is, the influence of national warfare on 
 the morals of mankind : a topic on which I must be 
 very brief, but which it would he wrong to omit, a» 
 it supplies an additional reason to every good man 
 for the love of peace. 
 
 The contests of nations are both the offspring and 
 the parent of injustice. The word of God ascribes 
 the existence of war to the disorderly passions of 
 men. Whence comes wars and Jightings among 
 you P saith the apostle James, come they not from 
 your lusts that war in your members P It is certain 
 two nations cannot engage in hostilities, but one party 
 must be guilty of injustice ; and if the magnitude of 
 crimes is to be estimated by a regard to their conse- 
 quences, it is difficult to conceive an action of equal 
 guilt with the wanton violation of peace. Though 
 something must generally be allowed for the com- 
 plexness and intricacy of national claims, and the 
 consequent liability to deception, yet where tli*^ guilt 
 of an unjust war is clear and manifest, it sinks every 
 other crime into insignificance. If the existence of 
 
96 
 
 "wav always implies injustice, in one at least of the 
 parties concerned, it is also the fruitful parent of 
 crimes. It reverses, with respect to its objects, all 
 the rules of morality. It is nothing less than a tem- 
 porary repeal of the principles of virtue. It is a 
 system out of w^hich almost all the virtues are exclu- 
 ded, and in which nearly all the vices are incorpora- 
 ted. Whatever renders human nature amiable or 
 respectable, whatever engages love or confidence, is 
 sacrificed at its shrine. In instructing us to consider 
 a portion of our fellow creatures as the proper ob- 
 jects of enmity, it removes, as far as they are con- 
 cerned, the basis of all society, of all civilization and 
 virtue; for the basis of these is the good-will due to 
 every individual of the species, as being a part of 
 ourselves. From this principle all the rules of 
 social virtue emanate. Justice and humanity in 
 their utmost extent are nothing more than the prac- 
 tical application of this great law. The sword, and 
 that alone, cuts asunder the bond of consanguinity, 
 which unites man to man. As it immediately aims 
 at the extinction of life, it is next to impossible, up- 
 on the principle that every thing may be lawfully 
 done to him whom we have a right to kill, to set 
 limits to military licence ; for when men pass from 
 the dominion of reason to that of force, whatever 
 restraints are attempted to be laid on the passions 
 will be feeble and fluctuating. Though we must 
 applaud, therefore, the attempts of the humane Gro- 
 tius, to blend maxims of humanity with military op- 
 
97 
 
 erations, it is to be feared they will never coalesce, 
 since the former imply the subsistence of those ties 
 which the latter suppose to be dissolved. Hence 
 the morality of peaceful times is directly opposite 
 to the maxims of war. The fundamental rule of 
 the first is to do good ; of the latter, to inflict inju- 
 ries. The former commands us to succour the op- 
 pressed ; the latter to overwhelm the defenceless. 
 The former teaches men to love their enemies ; the 
 latter to make themselves terrible even to strangers. 
 The rules of morality will not suffer us to promote 
 the dearest interest by falsehood ; the maxims of war 
 applaud it when employed in the destruction of others. 
 That a familiarity with such maxims must tend 
 to harden the heart, as well as to pervert the moral 
 sentiments, is too obvious to need illustration. The 
 natural consequence of their prevalence is an un- 
 feeling and unpriucipled ambitiou, with an idolatry 
 of talents, and a contempt of virtue ; whence the es- 
 teem of mankind is turned from the humble, the 
 beneficent, and the good, to men who are qualified 
 by a genius fertile in expedients, a courage that is 
 never appalled, and a heart that never pities, to be- 
 come the destroyers of the earth. While the phi- 
 lanthropist is devisi?ig means to mitigate tlte evils 
 and augment the happiness of the world, a fellow- 
 worker together with God, in exploring and giving 
 effect to the benevolent tendencies of nature, the 
 warrior is revolving in the gloomy recesses of his 
 capacious mind, plans of future devastation and ruin. 
 
 i3 
 
98 
 
 Prisons crowded with captives, cities emptied of 
 their inhabitants, fields desolate and waste, are 
 among his proudest trophies. Tiie fabric of his 
 fame is cemented with tears and blood ; and if his 
 name is wafted to the ends of the earth, it is in the 
 shrill cry of suflering humanity ; in the curses and 
 imprecations of those whom his sword has reduced 
 to despair. 
 
 Let me not be understood to involve in this guill 
 every mjiu who engages in war, or to assert that war 
 itself is in all cases unlawful. The injustice of man- 
 kind, hitherto incurable, renders it in some instan- 
 ces necessary, and therefore lawful ; but unques- 
 tionably, these instances are much more rare than 
 the practice of the world and its loose casuistry 
 would lead us to suppose. 
 
 Detesting war, considered as a trade or profes^ 
 sion, and conceiving conquerors to be the enemies of 
 their species, it appears* to me that nothing is more 
 suitable to the office of a Christian minister, than an 
 attempt, however feeble, to take off the colours from 
 false greatness, and to show the deformity which its 
 delusive splendour too often conceals. This is per- 
 haps one of the best services religion can do to soci- 
 
 * Non est inter artificia bellam, imo res est tarn horrencla, ut earn nJsj 
 summa necessilas, aut veracaritas, honestam efficere qvieat. Augustino 
 judice, iTiilitare non est delictum, sed propter pracdam militare peccatum 
 est. Gro:. de Jure Bell I. 2- c. 25. 
 
ety. Nor is there any more necessary. For domin- 
 ion affording a plain and palpable distinction, and 
 every man feeling the effects of power, however in- 
 competent he may be to judge of wisdom and good- 
 ness, the character of a hero, there is reason to fear, 
 will always he too dazzling. The sense of his in- 
 justice will be too often lost in the admiration of his 
 success. 
 
 In contemplating the influence of war on public 
 morals, it would be unpardonable not to remark the 
 effects it never fails to produce in those parts of the 
 world which are its immediate seat. The injury 
 which the morals of a people sustain from an invad- 
 ing army is prodigious. The agitation and sus- 
 pense universally, prevalent, are incompatible with 
 every thing which requires calm thought or serious 
 reflection. In such a situation is it any wonder the 
 duties of piety fall into neglect, the sanctuary of God 
 is forsaken, and the gates of Zion mourn and are 
 desolate ? Familiarized to the sight of rapine and. 
 slaughter, the people must acquire a hard and un- 
 feeling character. The precarious tenure by which 
 every thing is held during the absence of laws, 
 must impair confidence ; the sudden revolutions of 
 fortune must be iuiliiilely favourable to fraud and 
 injustice. He who reflects on these consequences^ 
 will not think it too much to affirm, that the injury 
 the virtue of a people sustains from invasion, is 
 greater than tliat which affects their property or 
 
100 
 
 tlieir lives. He will perceive that by such a ca- 
 lamity the seeds of order, virtue, and piety, which 
 it is the first care of education to implant and ma- 
 ture, are swept away as by a hurricane. 
 
 Though the sketch which I have attempted to 
 give of the miseries which ensue whe^ nation lifts 
 up arms against nation, is faint and imperfect, it is 
 yet suiRcient to imprint on our minds a salutary 
 horror of such scenes, and a gratitude, warm, I 
 trust, and sincere, to that gracious Providence 
 which has brought them to a close. 
 
 To acknowledge the hand of God is a duty in- 
 deed at all times; but there are seasons when it is 
 made so bare, that it is next to impossible, and 
 therefore signally criminal, to overlook it. It is al- 
 most unnecessary to add that the present is one of 
 those seasons. If ever we are expected to be stilly 
 and know that he is God, it is on the present occa- 
 sion, after a crisis so unexampled in the annals of 
 the world ; during which, scenes have been dis- 
 closed, and events have arisen, so much more as- 
 tonishing than any that history had recorded or ro- 
 mance had feigned, that we are compelled to lose 
 sight of human agency, and to behold the Deity 
 acting as it were apart and alone. 
 
 The contest in which we have been lately en- 
 gaged, is distinguibhed from all others in modern 
 
101 
 
 times by the number of nations it embraced, and the 
 animosity with which it was conducted. Making 
 its first appearance in the centre of the civilized 
 world, like a fire kindled in the thickest part of a 
 forest, it spread durin*; ten years on every side, it 
 burnt iu all directions, gathering fresh fury in its 
 progress, till it enwrapped the whole of Europe in 
 its flames, an awful spectacle not only to the inhab- 
 itants of the earth, but in the eyes of superior be- 
 ings ! What place can we point out to which its 
 effects have not extended ? Where is the nation, 
 the family, the individual, I might almost say, who 
 has not felt its influence ? It is not, my brethren, the 
 termination of an ordinary contest which we are as- 
 sembled this day to commemorate ; it is an event 
 which includes for the present (may it long perpetu- 
 ate) the tranquillity of Europe and the pacification of 
 the world. We are met to express our devout gra- 
 titude to God, for putting a period to a war, the most 
 eventful perhaps that has been witnessed for a 
 thousand years, a war which has transformed the 
 face of Europe, removed the laud -marks of nations 
 and limits of empire. 
 
 The spirit of animosity with which it has been 
 conducted is another circumstance which has emi- 
 nently distinguished the recent contest. As it would 
 be highly improper to enter on this occasion (were 
 my abilities equal to tlje task) into a discussion (jf 
 those principles which have divided, and probably 
 
103 
 
 v.'\]\ long divide the sentiments of men, it may be 
 5 iflicJont to observe in general, that what princi- 
 pally contributed to make the contest so peculiarly 
 violent, was a discordancy betwixt the opinions and 
 the institutions of society. A daring spirit of spec- 
 ulation, untempered, alas! by humility and devo- 
 tion, has been the distinguishing feature of the pre- 
 sent times. While it coniined itself to the expo- 
 siire of the corruptions of religion and the abuses of 
 power, it met with some degree of countenance from 
 the wise and good in all countries, who were ready 
 to hope it was the instrument destined by Provi- 
 dence to meliorate the condition of mankind. How 
 great was their disappointment when they perceived 
 that pretensions to philanthropy were, with many, 
 only a mask, assumed for the more successful pro- 
 pagation of impiety and anarchy ! 
 
 From the prevalence of this spirit, however, a 
 schism v» as gradually formed between the adher- 
 ents of those, who styling themselves philosophers., 
 were intent on some great change, which they were 
 little careful to explain, and the patrons of the an- 
 cient Older of things. The pretensions of each were 
 plausible. The accumulation of abuses and the 
 iborruptions of religion furnislied weapons to the 
 philosophers ; the dangerous tendency of the spec . 
 ulations of these latter, together with their impiety, 
 which became every day more manifest, gave an 
 advantage not less considerable to their opponents, 
 
103 
 
 which they did not fail to improve. In this situa- 
 tion the breach grew wider and wider; nothing 
 temperate or conciliating was admitted. Every at- 
 tempt at purifying religion without impairing its 
 authority, and at improving the condition of society, 
 without shaking its foundation, was crushed 
 and annihilated in the encounter of two hostile 
 forces. By this means the way was prepared, first 
 for internal dissension, and then for wars the most 
 bloody and extensive. 
 
 The war in which so great a part of the world 
 was lately engaged, has been frequently styled a 
 war of principle. This was indeed its exact char- 
 acter ; and it was this which rendered it so violent 
 and obstinate. Disputes which are founded merely 
 on passion or on interest, are comparatively of short 
 duration. They are, at least, not calculated to 
 spread. However they may inflame the principals, 
 they are but little adapted to gain partizans. 
 
 To render them durable, there must be an infu- 
 sion of speculative opinions. For corrupt as men 
 are, they are yet so much the creatures of reflection, 
 and so strongly addicted to sentiments of right and 
 wrong, that their attachment to a public cause can 
 rarely be secured, nor their animosity be kept alive, 
 unless their understandings are engaged by some 
 appearances of truth and rectitude. Hence specu- 
 lativediflTercnces in religion and politics become ral- 
 
lyinj5 points to the passions. Whoever reflects on 
 the civil wars between the Guelphs and the Ghib- 
 belincs, or the adherents of the pope and the empe- 
 ror, which distracted Italy and Germany in the 
 middle ages ; or those betwixt the houses of York 
 and Lancaster, in the fifteenth century, will find 
 abundant confirmation of this remark. This 
 is well understood by the leaders of parties in 
 all nations ; who, though they frequently aim 
 at nothing more than the attainment of power, 
 yet always contrive to cement the attachment of 
 their followers, by mixing some speculative opinion 
 with their contests, well knowing that what de- 
 pends for support merely on the irascible passions 
 soon subsides. Then does party animosity reach 
 its lieight, when to an interference of interests sufiB- 
 cient to kindle resentment, is superadded a persua- 
 sion of rectitude, a conviction of truth, an apprehen- 
 sion in each party that they are contending for prin- 
 ciples of the last importance, on the success of which 
 the happiness of millions depends. Under these im- 
 pressions men are apt to indulge the most selfish and 
 vindictive passions without suspicion or control. 
 The understanding indeed, in that state, instead of 
 controlling the passions often serves only to give 
 steadiness to their impulse, to ratify and consecrate, 
 so to speak, all their movements. 
 
 When we apply these remarks to the late contest, 
 we can be at no loss to discover the source of the 
 
105 
 
 unparalleled animosity which inflamed it. Never 
 before were so many opposing interests, passions, 
 and principles committed to such a decision. On 
 one side an attachment to the ancient order of things, 
 on the other a passionate desire of change ; a wish 
 in some to perpetuate, in others to destroy every 
 thing ; every ahuse sacred in the eyes of the former, 
 every foundation attempted to be demolished by the 
 latter ; a jealousy of power shrinking from the slight- 
 est innovation, pretensions to freedom pushed to 
 madness and anarchy ; superstition in all its dotnge, 
 impiety in all its fury ; whatever, in short, could be 
 found most discordant in tiie principles, or violent 
 in the passions of men, were the fearful ingredients 
 which the hand of Divine Justice selected to mingle 
 in this furnace of wrath. Can we any longer won- 
 der at the desolations it made in the earth ? Great 
 as tiiey are, they are no more than might be expect- 
 ed from the peculiar nature of the warfare. When 
 we take this into our consideration, we are no lon- 
 ger surprised to find the variety of its battles bur- 
 dens the memory, tiiat the imagination is perfectly 
 fatigued in travelling over its scenes of slaughter; 
 and that falling, like the mystic star in the Apoca- 
 lypse, upon the streams and the rivers, it turned the 
 third 2J art of their ivaters into hlood* 
 
 * The author has inserted some reflections iicrc, which were not inclii 
 dt;d in the discourse as delivered from tlie pulpit. He wished to explain 
 himself some what more fully on certain points, on which his sentiments 
 in a former publication have been much misunderstood or misrepresented, 
 But this is a circumstance witli which, as it has not troubled himself, he 
 ^«h«9 not any favtljer to trouble the readei- 
 
 14 » 
 
106 
 
 Whether the foundations of lasting tranquillity 
 are laid, or a respite only afforded to the nations 
 'of the earth, in the present auspicious event, is a 
 question, the discussion of which would only damp 
 the satisfaction of this day. Whatever may be the 
 future determinations of Providence, let no gloomy 
 foreboding depress our gratitude for its gracious 
 interposition in our favour. While we feel senti- 
 ments of respectful acknowledgment to the human 
 instruments employed, let us remember they are 
 but instruments, and that it is our duty to look 
 through them to him who is the Author of every 
 good and perfect gift. 
 
 Let us now turn to the pleasing part of our sub- 
 ject, which invites us to contemplate the reasons for 
 gratitude and joy suggested by the restoration of 
 peace. 
 
 Permit me to express my hope, that along with 
 peace the spirit of peace will return. How can we 
 better imitate our heavenly Father, than when he 
 is pleased to compose the animosities of nations, to 
 open our hearts to every milder influence. Let us 
 hope, more mutual forbearance, a more candid con- 
 struction of each other's views and sentiments will 
 prevail. No end can now be answered by the re- 
 vival of party disputes. The speculations which 
 gave occasion to them have been yielded to the ar- 
 bitration of the sword, and neither the fortune of 
 
107 
 
 war nor the present condition of Europe, is such as 
 affords to any party room for high exultation. Our 
 public and private affections are no longer at vari- 
 ance. That benevolence which embraces the world 
 is now in perfect harmony with the tenderness that 
 endears our country. Burying in oblivion, there- 
 fore, all national antipathies, together with those 
 cruel jealousies and suspicions which have too 
 much marred the pleasures of mutual intercourse, 
 let our hearts correspond to the blessing we cele- 
 brate, and keep pace as far as possible with the 
 movements of divine beneficence. 
 
 A most important benefit has already followed 
 the return of peace, a reduction of the price of 
 bread, and though other necessaries of life have 
 not fallen in proportion, this is a circumstance 
 which can hardly fail to follow. We trust the cir- 
 cumstances of the poor and the labouring classes 
 will be much improved, and that there will shortly 
 be no complaining in our streets. Every cottager, 
 we hope, will feel that there is peace, commerce re- 
 turn to its ancient channels, the public burdens be 
 lightened, the national debt diminished, and har- 
 mony and plenty again gladden the land. 
 
 In enumerating the motives to national gratitude, 
 which the retrospect of the past supplies, it would 
 be Unpardonable not to reckon among the most co- 
 gent, the preservation of our excellent constitution; 
 
108 
 
 nor can I doubt of the concurrence of all who hear 
 me, when I add, it is a pleasing reflection, that 
 at a period when the spirit of giddiness and revolt 
 has been so prevalent, we have preferred the bless- 
 ings of order to a phantom of liberty, and have not 
 been so mad as to wade through the horrors of a 
 revolution to make way for a military despot. If 
 the constitution has sustained serious injury, either 
 during the war, or at any preceding period, as there 
 is great room to apprehend, we shall have leisure 
 (may we but have virtue!) to apply temperate and 
 effectual reforms. In the mean time let us love it 
 sincerely, cherish it tenderly, and secure it as far 
 as possible on all sides, watching with impartial 
 solicitude against every thing that may impair its 
 spirit, or endanger its form. 
 
 But, above all, let us cherish the spirit of reli- 
 gion. When we wish to open our hearts on this 
 subject, and to represent to you the vanity, the no- 
 thingness of every thing else in comparison, we feel 
 ourselves checked by an apprehension you will 
 consider it merely as professional language,' and 
 consequently entitled to little regard. If, however, 
 you will only turn your eyes to the awful scenes 
 before you, our voice may be spared. They will 
 speak loud enough of themselves. On this subject 
 they will furnish the most awful and momentous in. 
 struction. From them you will learn, that the safety 
 of nations is not to be sought in arts or in arms; 
 
109 
 
 til at science may flourish amidst the decay of hu. 
 manity ; tliat the utmost barbarity may be blended 
 with the utmost refinement ; tliat a passion for spec- 
 'ulation, unrestrained by the fear of God and a deep 
 sense of human imperfection, merely hardens the 
 heart ; and that as religion, in short, is the great 
 tamer of the breast, the S(!urce of tranquillity and 
 order, so the crimes of voluptuousness and impiety 
 inevitably conduct a people, before they are aware, 
 to the brink of desolation and anarchy. 
 
 If you had wished to figure to yourselves a coun- 
 try wiiich had reached tlie utmost pinnacle of pros- 
 perity, you would undoubtedly have turned your 
 eyes to France, as she appeared a few years before 
 the revolution ; illustrious in learning and genius; 
 the favourite abode of the arts, and the mirror of 
 fashion, whither the flower of the nobility from all 
 countries resorted, to acquire the last polish of which 
 the human character is susceptible. Lulled in vo- 
 luptuous repose, and dreaming of a philosophical 
 millennium, without dependence upon God, like 
 the generation before the flood, they ate, they dravk, 
 they married, they ivere given in marriage. In 
 that exuberant soil every thing seemed to flourish, 
 but religion and virtue. The season however was 
 at length arrived, when God was resolved to punish 
 their impiety, as well as to avenge the blood of his 
 servants, whose souls had for a century been inces- 
 *janily crying to him from under the altar. And 
 
110 
 
 what method did he employ for this purpose ? Wlrcii 
 he to whom vengeance helongs, when he whose ways 
 are unsearchable, and whose wisdom is inexhaust- 
 ible, proceeded to the execution of this strange work,* 
 h*e drew from his treasures a weapon he had never 
 employed before. Rest>lving to make their punish- 
 ment as signal as their crimes, he neither let loose 
 an inundation of barbarous nations, nor the desola- 
 ting powers of the universe : he neither overwhelm- 
 ed thfm with earthquakes, nor visited them with 
 pestilence. He summoned from among themselves 
 a ferocity more*terrible than either, a ferocity which 
 mingling in the struggle for liberty, and borrowing 
 aid from that very refinement to which it seemed to 
 be opposed, turned every man's hand against his 
 neighbour, and sparing no age, nor sex, nor rank, 
 till satiated with the ruin of greatness, the distresses 
 of innocence, and the tears of beauty, it terminated 
 its career in the most unrelenting despotism, TJwu, 
 art rigliieoiis, Lordf ivhich art, and ivhich was 
 and which shall be, because thou hast judged thus, 
 for they have shed the blood of saiiits and pro- 
 phets, and thou hast given them blood to drink, 
 for they are worthy. 
 
 If the weakness of humanity will not permit us 
 to keep pace witli the movements of divine justice ; 
 if, from the deep commiseration excited by the view 
 of so much wo, our tongue falttrs in expressing 
 those sublime sentiments of triumph which revela- 
 
Ill 
 
 tion suggests on this occasion, we shall he pardou- 
 ed by the Being who knows our frame ; while noth- 
 ing can prevent us, at least, from adoring this illus- 
 trious vindication of his own religion, wliose divin- 
 ity we see is not less apparent in the hlessings it 
 bestows, than in the calamities which mark its de- 
 parture. 
 
 Our only security against similar calamities is a 
 steady adherence to this religion; not the religion of 
 mere form and profession, but that which has its seat 
 in the heart ; nor is it mutilated and debased by the 
 refinementsof a false philosophy, but as it exists in all 
 its simplicity and extent in the sacred scriptures ; con- 
 sisting in sorrow for sin, in the love of Grod, and in 
 faith in a crucified Redeemer. If this religion re- 
 vives and flourishes amongst us, we may still sur- 
 mount all our difficulties, and no weapon formed 
 against us will prosper ; if we despise or neglect it, 
 no human power can afford us protection. Instead 
 of shewing our love to our country, therefore, by 
 engaging eagerly in the strife of parties, let us 
 chuse to signalize it rather by beneficence, by piety, 
 by an exemplary discharge of the duties of private 
 life, under a persuasion that that man, in the final 
 issue of things, will be seen to have been the best 
 patriot, who is the best christian. He who diffuses 
 the most liappiness, and mitigates the most distress 
 within his own circle, is undoubtedly the best friend 
 to his country and the world, since nothing more is 
 
Its 
 
 necessary, than for all men to imitate his conduct, 
 to make tho greatest part of the misery of the world 
 cease in a moment. While the passion, then, of 
 some is to shine, of some to govern, and of others to 
 accumulate, let one great passion alone inflame our 
 breasts, the passion which reason ratifies, which 
 conscience approves, which heaven inspires, that of 
 being and of doing good. 
 
 There is no vanity, I trust, in supposing that the 
 reflections which this Discourse has presented to 
 your view, have awakened those sentiments of gra 
 titude to the Father of Mercies for his gracious in- 
 terposition in the restoration of peace, which you 
 are impatient to express by stronger evidence than 
 ■words. Should this be the case, a plain path is 
 before you. While tLe eminence of the divine per- 
 fections renders it impossible for us to contribute to 
 the happiness, or augment the glory of the Creator, 
 he has left amongst us, for the exercise of our virtue, 
 the indigent and the affticted, whom he has in an 
 especial manner committed to our care, and appoint 
 ed to represent himself. The objects of the insti 
 tution, for which I have this day the honour to 
 plead, are those of whom the very mention is suffi 
 cient to excite compassion in every feeling mind, 
 the sick and the aged j)oor.-^ To be scantily pro- 
 
 * It may be proper to remind the reader, that this Discourse was 
 preached for the benefit of a benevolent society, recently instituted at 
 f!ambri(lg-e, for Ihe relit--f of the sick and aged poor; and that one prin- 
 
113 
 
 vided with the necessaries of life, to endure cold, 
 hunger, and nakedness, is a great calamity at all 
 seasons ; it is almost unnecessary to ohserve how 
 much these evils are aggravated by the pressure of 
 disease, when exhausted nature demands whatever 
 the most tender assiduity can supply to cheer its 
 languor and support its sufferings. It is the pecu- 
 liar misfortune of the afflicted poor, that the very 
 circumstance which increases their wants, cuts off, 
 by disqualifying them for labour, the means of their 
 supply. Bodily affliction, therefore, falls upon them 
 with an accumulated weight. Poor at best, when 
 seized with sickness they become utterly destitute. 
 Incapable even of presenting themselves to the eye 
 of pity, nothing remains for them, but silently to 
 yield themselves up to sorrow and despair. The 
 second class of objects, which it is the design of this 
 society to relieve, are the aged jwor. Here it is 
 quite unnecessary for me to attempt to paint to you 
 the sorrows of old age ; a period indeed which, by 
 a strange inconsistency, we all wish to reach, 
 while we shrink with a sort of horror from the in- 
 firmities and sufferings inseparable from that mel- 
 ancholy season. What can be a more pitiable ob- 
 ject than decrepitude, sinking under the accumu- 
 lated load of years and of penury? Arrived al 
 
 cipal motive with the author for coniplyinjj with the request of the 
 Society in publishing it, was a desire to excite the attention of the 
 benevolent to the formation of similar societies in other parts. A further 
 account of the Institution will be found at the end of the Sermcn. 
 
 1^ 
 
114 
 
 that period when the most fortunate confess they 
 have no pleasure, how forlorn is his situation, who 
 destitute of the means of subsistence, has survived 
 his last child, or his last friend ! Solitary and neg- 
 lected, without comfort and without hope, depend- 
 ing for every thing on a kindness he has no means 
 of conciliating, he finds himself left alone in a world 
 to which he has ceased to belong, and is only felt 
 in society as a burden it is impatient to shake off. 
 Such are the objects to which this Institution soli 
 cits your regard. 
 
 It is, in my humble opinion, a most excellent part 
 of the plan of the Society, in whose behalf I ad- 
 dress you, that no relief is administered without 
 first personally visiting the olvjects in their own 
 abode. By this means the precise circumstances 
 of each case are clearly ascertained, and imposture 
 is sure to be detected. Where charity is adminis- 
 tered without this precaution, as it is impossible to 
 discriminate real from pretended distress, the most 
 disinterested benevolence often fails of its purpose, 
 and that is yielded to clamorous importunity which 
 is M ithheld from lonely want. The mischief ex- 
 tends much farther. From the frequency of such 
 imposition, the best minds are in danger of becom- 
 ing disgusted with the exercise of pecuniary chari- 
 ty, till from a mistaken persuasion, that it is impos- 
 sible to guard against deception, they treat the most 
 abandoned and the most deserving with the same 
 
11^ 
 
 neglect. Thus the heart contracts into selfishness, 
 and those delicious emotions which the benevolent 
 author of nature implanted to prompt us to relieve 
 distress, become extinct ; a loss greater to ourselves 
 than to the objects to whom we deny our compas- 
 sion. To prevent a degradation of character so 
 fatal, allow mc to urge on all whom Providence 
 has blessed with the means of doing good, on those 
 especially who are indulged with affluence and 
 leisure, the importance of devoting some portion of 
 their time in inspecting, as well as of their proper- 
 ty in relieving, the distresses of the poor. 
 
 By this means an habitual tenderness will be 
 cherished, which will heighten inexpressibly the 
 happiness of life, at the same time that it will 
 most effectually counteract that seliishness which a 
 continual addictedness to the pursuits of avarice 
 and ambition never fails to produce. As selfish- 
 ness is a principle of continual operation, it needs 
 to be opposed by some other principle, whose ope- 
 ration is equally uniform and steady ; but the casual 
 impulse of compassion, excited by occasional appli- 
 cations for relief, is by no means e<[ual to this pur- 
 pose. Then only will benevolence become a pre- 
 vailing habit of mind, when its exertion enters into 
 the system of life, and occupies some stated portion 
 of tlie time and attention. In addition to this, it is 
 worth while to reflect how much consolation the 
 poor must derive from finding they arc the objects 
 
116 
 
 of personal attention to their more opulent neigh- 
 bours, that they are aeknowled^^ed as brethren of 
 the same family, and that should they be overtaken 
 with affliction or calamity, they are in no danger of 
 perishing unpitied and unnoticed. With all the 
 pride that wealth is apt to inspire, how seldom are 
 the opulent truly aware of their high destination. 
 Placed by the Lord of all on an eminence, and en- 
 trusted with a superior portion of his goods, to them 
 it belongs to be dispensers of his bounty, to succour 
 distress, to draw merit from obscurity, to behold 
 oppression and want vanish before them, and ac- 
 companied wherever they move with perpetual ben- 
 edictions, to present an image of him, who at the 
 close of time, in the kingdom of the redeemed, will 
 wipe away tears from all faces. It is surely unne- 
 cessary to remark how insipid are the pleasures of 
 voluptuousness and ambition compared to wiiat such 
 a life must afford, whether we compare tliem with 
 respect to the present, the review of the past, or the 
 prospect of the future. 
 
 It is probable some may object, that such exer- 
 tions, however amiable in themselves, are rendered 
 unnecessary by the system of parochial relief, es- 
 tablished in this country. To which it is obvious 
 to reply, that however useful this institution may be, 
 there must always be a great deal of distress, which 
 it can never relieve. Like all national institutions, 
 U is incapable of bending from the rigour of gene- 
 
iir 
 
 ral rules, so as to adapt itself to the precise circiiiU' 
 stances of each respective case. Besides that it 
 Would be vain to expect much tenderness in the ex- 
 ecution of a legal office, the machine itself, though 
 it may be well suited to the general purpose it is 
 intended to answer, is too large and unwieldy to 
 touch those minute points of difference, those dis- 
 tinct kinds and gradations of distress, to which the 
 operation of personal benevolence will easily adapt 
 itself. In addition to whicii, it will occur to those 
 who reflect, that, on account of the increasing de- 
 mands of the poor, the parochial system, which 
 presses hard upon many ill able to bear it, is alrea* 
 dy strained to the utmost. 
 
 Although the society in whose behalf T address 
 you, is but recently establiMcd, it has been ena- 
 bled painfully to ascertain the vast proportion of 
 its objects of the female sex, a melancholy circum- 
 stance, deserving the serious attention of the public 
 on more accounts than one. Of the cases which have 
 occurred to their notice, since the commencement of 
 their labours, more than three-fourtiis have been of 
 that description. The situation of females without 
 fortune in this country is indeed deeply aflfectin"-. 
 Excluded from all the active employments, in which 
 they might engage with the utmost propriety, by 
 men, who to the injury of one sex, add the dis- 
 grace of making the other effeminate and ridiculous, 
 an indegent female, the object probably of love and 
 
118 
 
 tenderness in her youth, at a more advanced age, a 
 withered Hower ! has nothing to do but to retire and 
 die. Thus it comes to pass, that the most amiable 
 part of our species, by a detestable combination in 
 those who ought to be their protectors, are pushed 
 oflF the stage, as though they were no longer wor- 
 thy to live, when they ceased to be the objects of 
 passion. How strongly on this account, this soci- 
 ety is entitled to your attention (as woi-ds would 
 fail.) I leave to the pensive reflection of your own 
 bosoms. 
 
 To descant on the evils of poverty might seem en- 
 tirely unnecessary (for what with most is the great 
 business of life, but to remove it to the greatest pos- 
 sible distance ?) were it not that, besides its being 
 the most common of all evils, there are circumstan- 
 ces peculiar to itself, which expose it to neglect. 
 The seat of its sufferings are the appetites, not the 
 passions ; appetites which are common to all, and 
 which, being capable of no peculiar combinations, 
 confer no distinction. There are kinds of distress 
 founded on the passions, which, if not applauded, 
 are at least admired in their excess, as implying a 
 peculiar refinement of sensibility in the mind of the 
 sufferer. Embellished by taste, and wrought by the 
 magic of genius into innumerable forms, they turn 
 grief into a luxury, and draw from the eyes of mil- 
 lions delicious tears. But no muse ever ventured to 
 adorn the distresses of poverty or the sorrows of hun- 
 
119 
 
 «er. Disgusting taste and delicacy, and presenting 
 nothing pleasing to the imagination, they are mere 
 misery in all its nakedness and deformity. Hence 
 shame in the sufferer, contempt in the beholder, and 
 an obscurity of station, which frequently removes 
 them from the view, are their inseparable portion. 
 Nor can I reckon it, on this account, amongst the 
 improvements of the present age, that by the multi- 
 plication of works of fiction, the attention is diverted 
 from scenes of real to those of imaginary distress ; 
 from the distress which demands relief, to that which 
 admits of embellishment : in consequence of which 
 the understanding is enervated, the heart is corrupt- 
 ed, and those feelings which were designed to stim- 
 ulate to active benevolence are employed in nourish- 
 ing a sickly sensibility ^i To a most impure and 
 whimsical writer,* whose very humanity is unnat- 
 ural, we are considerably indebted for this innova- 
 tion. Though it cannot be denied, that by diffusing 
 a warmer colouring over the visions of fancy, sen- 
 sibility is often a source of exquisite pleasures to 
 others, if not to the possessor, yet it should never be 
 confounded with benevolence ; since it constitutes 
 at best rather the ornament of a fine, than the virtue 
 of a good mind. A good man may have nothing of 
 it, a bad man may have it in abundance. 
 
 * The author alludes to Sterne, the whole teiulency of whose writing's 
 is to degrade human nature, by resolving all our passions into a mereani- 
 mal instinct, and that of the grossest sort. It was perfectly natural for 
 Mich a writer to employ his powers in panegyrising an ass. 
 
Leaving therefore these amusements of the ima- 
 gination to the vain and indolent, let us awake to 
 nature and truth, and in a world from which we 
 must so shortly be summoned, a world abounding 
 with so many real scenes of heart-rending distress 
 as well as of vice and impiety, employ all our pow- 
 ers in relieving the one and in correcting the other, 
 that when we have arrived at the borders of eternity, 
 we may not be tormented with the awful reflection 
 of having lived in vain. 
 
 If ever there was a period when poverty made a 
 more forcible appeal than usual to the heart, it is 
 unquestionably that which we have lately witness 
 ed, the calamities of which, though greatly dimin- 
 ished by the auspicious ivent which we now cele- 
 brate, are far from being entirely removed. Poverty 
 used in happier times to be discerned in a superior 
 meanness of apparel and the total absence of orna* 
 ment. We have seen its ravages reach the man, 
 proclaiming themselves in the trembling step, in the 
 dejected countenance, and the faded form. We 
 have seen emaciated infants, no ruddiness in their 
 cheeks, no spriglitliness in their motions, while 
 the eager and imploring looks of their mothers, 
 reduced below the loud expressions of grief, have 
 announced unutterable anguish and silent despair. 
 
 From the reflections which have been made on 
 ♦he peculiar nature of poverty, you will easily ac 
 
ISl 
 
 count for the prodigious stress which is laid on 
 the duty of pecuniary benevolence in the Old and 
 New Testament. In the formerj God delighted 
 in assuming the character of the patron of the 
 poor and needy ; in the latter, the short definition 
 of the religion which he approves, is to visit the 
 fatherless and the widoiv, and to keep himself nn- 
 spotted from the world. He who knew what was 
 in man, well knew that, since the entrance of sin, 
 selfishness was become the epidemic disease of hu- 
 man nature ; a malady which almost every thing 
 tends to inflame, and the conquest of which is ab- 
 solutely necessary, before we can be prepared for 
 the felicity of heaven ; that whatever leads us out 
 of ourselves, whatever unites us to him and his 
 creatures in pure love, is an important step towards 
 the recovery of his image ; and finally, that his 
 church would consist for the most part of the poor 
 of this iforld, rich in faith, and heirs of the king- 
 dom, whom he was resolved to shield from the 
 contempt of all those who do not respect his au- 
 thority, by selecting them from the innumerable 
 millions of mankind to be the peculiar representa- 
 tives of himself. 
 
 Happy are they whose lives correspond to these 
 benevolent intentions ; who, looking beyond tlu^ 
 transitory distinctions which prevail here, and will 
 vanish at the first approach of eternity, honour God 
 in his children, and Christ in his image. How 
 
 16 
 
m-- 
 
 123 
 
 much, on the contrary, are those to be pitied, ih 
 whatever sphere they move, who live to themselves, 
 unmindful of the coming of their Lord. When he 
 shall come and shall not keep silence, tchen a fire 
 shall devour before him, arid it shall be very tem- 
 pestuous round about him, every thing, it is true, 
 will combine to fill them with consternation ; yet, 
 methinks, neither the voice of the xlrchangel, nor 
 the trump of God, nor the dissolution of the ele- 
 ments, nor the face of the Judge itself, frrm which 
 the heavens will flee away, will be so dismaying 
 and terrible to these men as the sight of the poor 
 members of Christ; whom, having spurned and 
 Ijeglected in the days of their humiliation, they will 
 then behold with amiizement united to their Lord, 
 covered with his glory, and seated on his throne, 
 Huw will they be astonished to see them surround- 
 ed with so much majesty. How will thry cast 
 down their eyes in their presence. How will they 
 curse that gold, which will then eat their flesh as 
 with fire, and that avarice, that indolence, that vo- 
 luptuousness, which will entitle them to so much 
 misery! You will then learn that the imitation of 
 Christ is the only wisdom : you will then be con- 
 vinced it is better to be endeared to the cottage, 
 than admired in the palace, when to have wiped 
 the tears of the afflicted, and inherited the pray- 
 ers of the widow, and the fatiierless, shall be found 
 a richer patrimony than the favour of princes. 
 
ACCOUNT 
 
 OF 
 
 THE BENEVOLENT SOCIETY, 
 
 FOR THE RELIEF OF THE SICK AXD AGED POOR 
 INSTITUTED AT CAMBRIDGE, 1801. 
 
 Blessed is he that consifkreth the Poor. Psalm xli. 1. 
 fnasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, 
 ye have done it unto me. Matt. xxv. 40. 
 
 X HAT benevolence is an habitual duty, arising 
 out of our constitution as rational and social crea- 
 tures, and enforced upon us by the most powerful 
 motives as Christians, no one will deny. The va- 
 rious exertions of the humane and the pious, in pri- 
 vate circles and in public institutions, are so many 
 proofs of the truth of this sentiment; but notwith- 
 standing those exertions, there is still ample room 
 for enlargement. Tlio&e persons who are in the 
 habit of visiting the cottages, or the chambers of 
 the poor, arc too frequently the melancholy wit- 
 nesses of that extreme poverty, pining sickness, 
 and poignant distress, which energetically call for 
 relief. 
 
1^ 
 
 With the design of administering, in some degree, 
 such relief, a number of persons, liave formed 
 themselves into a Society, the nature and objects 
 of which are such, that it may with the greatest 
 truth be said, to deserve^ and it can scarcely be 
 doubted but it will meet with such encouragement 
 as may render it a blessing to the poor of the town 
 of Cambridge. It is likewise ardently hoped, that 
 the Society will meet with such farther encourage- 
 ment, that its benevolent exertions may not be con- 
 fined to the town, but extended to the neighbouring 
 villages. 
 
 Theirs/ object of the Society is to afford pecuni- 
 ary assistance to the sicJc and the aged poor. To 
 select proper objects, and guard against the abuses 
 attending indiscriminate relief, visitors will be ap-^ 
 pointed to examine, and judge of the nature of every 
 case, and to report the same to a Committee of the 
 Society. 
 
 The second object of the Society is — The moral 
 and religious improvement of the objects relieved. 
 Awordsjmken in due season (says the Wise Man) 
 hoiv good is it ! The hour of affliction, the bed of 
 sickness, afford the most seasonable opportunities 
 for usefulness ; and it is hoped, that the heart may 
 in a more peculiar manner be open to the best of im- 
 pressions at such a season, and when under a sense 
 of obligation for relief already administered. 
 
*2S 
 
 In a Society like the present, all distinctions of 
 sects and parties are lost in the one general design 
 of doing good ; and the success which has attended 
 JBocieties, nearly similar, in different parts of this 
 kingdom, and more particularly in the metropolis, 
 in relieving the distress and ameliorating the condi- 
 tion of thousands and tens of thousands of our fel- 
 low creatuics, affords reason to hope, that under the 
 divine blessing, similar success will attend the So^ 
 ciety established in this town. 
 
 RULES OF THE SOCIETY. 
 
 I. Any person, of whatever denomination, age, or 
 sex, disposed to assist this benevolent undertaking, 
 may be admitted a subscriber ; each subscriber, on 
 admission, to pay not less than one shilling, and 
 from two pence per week to any sum such subscri- 
 ber may think proper. 
 
 II. That the business of this Society be managed 
 by a Committee of fourteen persons, including the 
 Treasurer and Secretary; five of whom shall be com- 
 petent to transact business : — that the Committee be 
 open to any member of the Society, who may think 
 proper to attend. In case of any vacancy in the 
 Committee, by death, or resignation, the remaining 
 members of the Committee be empowered to fill up 
 such vacancv. 
 
126 
 
 III. That the Committee meet monthly, at each 
 others houses, to receive reports, consider of cases, 
 appoint visitors, and audit their accounts. 
 
 IV. That there be an annual general meeting, of 
 which due notice will be given, when the state of 
 the Society shall be reported, and the Treasurer, 
 Secretary, and Committee appointed, to manage the 
 concerns thereof. 
 
 V. That the sick and the aged be esteemed the 
 only objects of the compassion of this Society, and 
 when the fund is reduced to the sum of five pounds, 
 the cases of the sick alone shall be attended to, 
 
 VI. That no member be allowed to recommend a. 
 case, until three months after his or her subscription 
 hath commenced, nor if four months in arrears, un- 
 til such arrears be discharged, provided they have 
 received notice of the same. 
 
 VII. That no case be received but from a sub- 
 scriber, w ho is expected to be well acquainted with 
 the case recommended, and to report the particulars 
 to one of the visitors. 
 
 VIII. That the visitors be appointed to adminis- 
 ter relief, and not the person who recommends the 
 case. 
 
1S7 
 
 IX. That no subscribers, while they continuft 
 such, shall receive any relief from this Society, nor 
 shall any of those who conduct the business thereof 
 receive any gratuity for their services. 
 
 ^*^ The Committee consists of an equal num- 
 ber of Ladies and Gentlemen ; and persons of both 
 sexes are appointed as visitors, in rotation. 
 
 Ifl Subscriptions and Donations are received 
 by the Treasurer, Secretary, or any member of the 
 Committee. 
 
 St a Geyieral Meeting of the Society, held agree- 
 ably to public notice, at Mr. Alderman Ind's, on 
 Monday, May 3d, 180,2 — It was 
 
 Resolved, That when the annual subscriptions of 
 the Society amount to sixty pounds, and the fund 
 to thirty pounds, the Committee be empowered to 
 extend relief to other distressed objects besides the 
 sick and the aged. 
 
THE SENTIMENTS PROPER TO THE 
 
 PRESENT CRISIS. 
 
 SERMON, 
 
 PREACHED AT 
 
 BRIDGE- STREET, BRISTOL, ENGLAND, 
 
 OCTOBER, 19, 1803; 
 
 BEING THE DAY APPOINTED 
 
 FOR 
 
 A GENERAL FAST. 
 
 BY ROBERT HALL, A. M. 
 
 Interesset, non uler imperet. cicEno. 
 PROM THE LATES.T LONDON EDITION. 
 
 17 
 
SERMON. 
 
 JEREMIAH, CHAP. 8, VERSE 6. 
 
 I hearkened and heard, but they spake not aright : no man 
 repented him of his wickedness, saying, What have I 
 done'? every one turned to his course, as the horse rush- 
 eth into the battle. 
 
 1 HOUGH we are well assured the Divine Being 
 is attentive to tiie conduct of men at all times, yet it 
 is but reasonable to believe he is peculiarly so whilst 
 they are under his correcting hand. Ashe does not 
 willingly afflict the children of men, he is wont to do 
 it slowly, and at intervals, waiting, if we may so 
 speak, to see whether the preceding chastisement 
 will produce those sentiments which shall appease 
 his anger, or confirm his resolution to punish. When 
 sincere humiliation and sorrow for past offences 
 take place, his displeasure subsides, he relents and 
 repents himself of the evil. Tims he speaks by the 
 mouth of Jeremiah : wit what instant I shall speak 
 concerning a nation and concerning a kingdom, to 
 
13S 
 
 pluck uj}, and to pulldown, and to destroy it, if that 
 nation against wliom I have pronounced, turn from 
 their evil, I will repent of the evil that I thought to 
 do unto them. 
 
 We are this day assembled at the call of our Sov- 
 ereign, to humble ourselves in the presence of Al- 
 mighty God, under a sense of our sins, and to im- 
 plore his interposition, that we may not be delivered 
 into the hands of our enemies, nor fall a prey to tbe 
 malice of those who hate us. It is surely, then, of 
 the utmost consequence to see to it, that our humili- 
 ation be deep, our repentance sincere, and the dis- 
 positions we cherish, as well as t!ie resolutions we 
 form, suitable to the nature of the crisis, and the so- 
 lemnity of the occasion j such, in a word, as Omnis- 
 cience will approve. 
 
 In the words of the text, the Lord reproaches the 
 people of Israel with not speaking aright, and com- 
 plains that, while he was waiting to hear the lan- 
 guage of penitential sorrow and humiliation, he wit- 
 nessed nothing but an insensibility to his reproofs, 
 an obstinate perseverance in guilt, with a fatal ea- 
 ge^'ness to rush to their former course. He hearJc- 
 ened and heard, but they spake not aright : no man 
 repented himself of his iniquity ^ nor said, WJiat have 
 I done P hut every one rushed to his course, as the 
 horse rasheih into the battle. 
 
133 
 
 As the principles of the divine administration arc 
 invariable, and the situation of Great Britain at this 
 moment, not altogether unlike that of Israel at the 
 time this portion of prophecy was penned, perhaps 
 "We cannot better improve the present solemnity, than 
 by taking occasion from the words before us to point 
 out some of those sentiments and views which ap- 
 pear in the present crisis not to be ris;ht, and after 
 exploding these, to endeavour to substitute more 
 correct ones in their stead. 
 
 1. They who content themselves with an attempt 
 to trace national judgments to their natural causes, 
 without looking any higher, entertain a view of the 
 subject very inadequate to the demands of the pre- 
 sent season. When you have traced to the efl'ccts 
 of an unparalleled convulsion on the continent, to 
 the relative situation of foreign powers, to the tur- 
 bulent passions and insatiable ambition of an indi- 
 vidual, the evils which threaten us, whatJmve you 
 done to mitigate those evils ? What alleviation 
 have yon aiforded to perplexity and distress ? They 
 still exist in all their force. Far be it from me U> 
 attempt to discourage political enquiry. An enqui- 
 ry into the sources of great events, an attempt to 
 develope the more hidden causes which influence, 
 under God, the destiny of nations, is an exercise of 
 the mental powers more noble than almost any 
 other, inasmuch as it embraces the widest field, and 
 grasps a chain whose links are the most numerous, 
 
13^ 
 
 complicated, and subtile. The most profound 
 political speculations, however, the most refined 
 theories of government, though they establish the 
 fame of their authors, will be found, perhaps, to 
 have had very little influence on the happiness of 
 nations. As the art of criticism never made an 
 orator or a poet, though it enables us to judge of 
 their merits, so the comprehensive speculation of 
 modern times, which has reviewed and compared 
 the manners and institutions of every age and coun- 
 try, has never formed a wise government or a happy 
 people. It arrives too late for that purpose, since 
 it owes its existence to an extensive survey of man- 
 kind, under a vast variety of forms, through all those 
 periods of national improvement and decay, hi 
 which the happiest efforts of wisdom and policy 
 have been already made. The welfare of a nation 
 depends much less on the refined wisdom of the 
 few, than on the manners and character of the many; 
 and as moral and religious principles have the chief 
 influence in forming that character, so an acknowl- 
 edgment of the hand of God, a deep sense of his 
 dominion, is amongst the first of those principles. 
 While we attend to the operation of second causes, 
 let us never forget that there is a Being who is 
 placed above them, who can move and arrange 
 them at pleasure, and in wiiose hands they never 
 fail to accomplish the purposes of liis unerring 
 counsel. The honour of the Supreme Ruler re- 
 quires that his supremacy should be acknowledged. 
 
135 
 
 his agency confessed ; nor is there any thing which 
 he more intends by his chastisements than to ex- 
 tort this confession, or any thing he more highly 
 resents, than an attempt to exclude him from the con- 
 cerns of his own world. Woe unto them (saith 
 Isaiah) that rise up early in the morning that they 
 may follow strong drink, that continue till night, 
 until wine inflame them : and the harp, and the 
 viol, and the tabret, and the pipe are in their feasts ; 
 hut they regard not the work of the Lord^ neither 
 consider the operation of his hands — Isaiah v. 11. 
 The same prophet complains, that while the hand 
 of Jehovah was lifted up they would not see ; 
 but he adds, they shall see. If lighter chastise- 
 ments will not suffice, he has heavier in reserve ; 
 if they despise his reproofs, he will render his an- 
 ger with fury, his rebukes with flames of fire : he 
 is resolved to overcome ; and what must be the 
 issue of a contest with Omnipotence, it is as easy 
 to foresee as it is painful to contemplate. 
 
 S. They speak not aright, who, instead of plac- 
 ing their reliance on God for safety, repose only on 
 an arm of flesh. The perfect unanimity which prc- 
 Tails, the ardour to defend every thing dear to us, 
 which is expressed by all classes, the sacrifices 
 cheerfully made, the labours sustained, and the 
 mighty preparations by sea and land, which the 
 vigilance of government has set on foot to repel the 
 enemy from our coasts, or insure his discomfituie 
 
134) 
 
 should he arrive, must be highly satisfactory to 
 eveiy well disposed mind. They afford, as far as 
 human means can afford, a well founded prospect 
 of success. Though there is, on this account, no 
 room to despond, but much on the contrary to lead 
 us to anticipate a favourable issue to the contest; 
 yet, nothing, surely can justify that language of 
 extravagant boast, that proud confidence in our 
 national force, without any acknowledged depend- 
 ence upon God, which, however fashionable it may 
 be, is as remote from the dictates of true courage 
 as of true piety. True courage is firm and unas- 
 suming: true piety serious and humble. In the 
 midst of all our preparations, we shall, if we are 
 "wise, repose our chief confidence in him who has 
 every element at his disposal ; who can easily dis- 
 concert the wisest councils, confound the mightiest 
 projects, and save when he pleases, by many or by 
 few. While the vanity of such a pretended reli- 
 ance on Providence as supersedes the use of means, 
 is readily confessed, it is to be feared we are not 
 sufficiently careful to guard against a contrary ex- 
 treme, in its ultimate effects not less dangerous. If 
 to depend on the interposition of Providence with- 
 out human exertion, be to tempt God, and to confide 
 in an arm of flesh, without seeking his aid, is to 
 deny him ; the former is to be pitied for its weak- 
 ness, the latter to be censured for its impiety : nor 
 is it easy to say which affords the worst omen 
 of success. Let us avoid both these extremes; 
 
137 
 
 availing ourselves of all the resources which wis- 
 dom can suggest, or energy produce ; let us still 
 feel and acknowledge our absolute dependence 
 apon God. With humble and contrite hearts, with 
 filial confidence and affection, let us flee to his arms^ 
 that thus we may enjoy the united supports of rea- 
 son and religion, and every principle, human and 
 divine, may concur to assure us of our safety. Thus 
 shall we effectually shun the denunciations so fre- 
 quent and so terrible, contained in his holy word, 
 against the vanity of human confidences. Cursed 
 is the man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh 
 his arm. 
 
 3. Their conduct is not to be approved, who, in 
 the present crisis, indulge in wanton and indiscrim- 
 inate censure of the measures of our rulers. I say 
 wanton and indiscriminate^ because the privelege 
 of censuring, with moderation and decency, the 
 measures of government, is essential to a free con- 
 stitution ; a privilege which can never lose its value 
 in the eyes of the public, till it is licentiously abus- 
 ed. The temperate exercise of this privelege, is a 
 most useful restraint on those errors and excesses, 
 to which the possession of power supplies a temp> 
 tation. The free expression of the public voice is 
 capable of overawing those who have nothing be- 
 side to apprehend ; and the tribunal of public opin- 
 ion is one, whose decisions it is not easy for men, 
 in the most elevated stations, to despise. To thi«i 
 
 18 
 
138 
 
 we niJij' add, that the unrestrained diseussion of 
 national affairs, not only gives weight to the senti= 
 ments^ but is eminently adapted to enlighten the 
 minds of a people, and, consequently, to increase 
 that general l|ind of talent and information, from 
 which the accomplishments even of statesmen them- 
 selves must be ultimately derived. While, there- 
 fore, we maintain this privilege with jealous care, 
 let us be equally careful not to abuse it. There is 
 a deference and respect, in my apprehension, due 
 to civil governors on account of their office, which 
 we are not permitted to violate, even when we are 
 under the necessity of blaming their measures. 
 When the apostle Paul was betrayed into an in- 
 temperate expression of anger against the Jewish 
 High Priest, from an ignorance of the station he 
 occupied, he was no sooner informed of this, than 
 he apologized, and quoted a precept of the Mosaic 
 Jjaw, which says, TJioii shalt not revile the gods, 
 nor curse the ruler of thy people ; in agreement 
 with which, the New Testament subjoins to the 
 duty of fearing God, that of honouring the king ; 
 and frequently and emphatically inculcates submis- 
 sion to civil rulers, not so much from a fear of tiieir 
 power, as from a respect for their office. 
 
 The ancient prophets, it is true, in the immedi^ 
 ate discharge of their functions, appear to have 
 treated kings and princes with no sort of ceremony. 
 But before we establish their style into a precedent^. 
 
139 
 
 let us recollect tliey were privileged persons, speak, 
 ing expressly in the name of the Most High, who 
 gave them his words, and invested them for the 
 moment with a portion of his majesty. 
 
 Apart from the personal characters of rulers, 
 which are fluctuating and variable, you will find 
 the apostles continually enjoin respect to govern- 
 ment as government f as a permanent ordinance of 
 God, susceptible of various modifications from hu- 
 man wisdom, but essential, under some form or 
 other, to the existence of society ; and affording a 
 representation, faint and inadequate, it is true, but 
 still a representation of the dominion of God over 
 the earth. The wisdom of resting the duty of sub- 
 mission on this ground is obvious. Tiie possession 
 of ofiRce forms a plain and palpable distinction, lia- 
 ble to no ambiguity or dispute. Personal merits, 
 on the contrary, are easily contested, so that if the 
 obligation of obedience were founded on these, it 
 would have no kind of force, nor retain any sort of 
 hold on the conscitMice ; the bonds of social order 
 might be dissolved by an epigram or a song. The 
 more liberal sentiments of respect for institutions 
 being destroyed, nothing would remain to insure 
 tranquillity but a servile fear of men. In the total 
 absence of those sentiments, the mildest exertion of 
 authority would be felt as an injury : authority 
 would soon cease to be mild ; and princes would 
 have no alternative^ but that of governing their sub- 
 
140 
 
 jecti with the severe jealousy of a master ovejr 
 slaves impatient of revolt : so narrow is the bound- 
 arj which separates a licentious freedom from a 
 ferocious tyranny. How incomparably more noble, 
 salutary, an»l just, are the maxims the apostles lay 
 down on this subject. Let eveyy soul be subject 
 unto the Jiigher poivers : for there is no power but 
 of God : the poivers that be are ordained of God: 
 whosoever resisteth therefore the power, resisteth 
 the ordinance of God, and they that resist shall re- 
 ceive to themselves damnation. For rulers are not 
 a terror to good works, but to the evil. Wilt thou 
 then not he afraid of the power? Bo that which is 
 good, and thou shalt have praise of the same. For 
 he is the vfiinister of God to thee for good. Where- 
 fore ye must needs be subject, not only for wrath, 
 but also for conscience sake. We sliall do well to 
 guard against any system which would withdraw 
 the duties we owe to our rulers and to society from 
 the jurisdiction of conscience ; that principle of 
 the mind, whose prerogative it is to prescribe to 
 every other, and to pronounce that definitive sen- 
 tence from which there is no appeal. A good 
 man is accustomed to acquiesce in the idea of his 
 duties as an ultimate object, without inquiring at 
 every step why he should perform them, or amusing 
 himself with imagining cases and situations in which 
 they would be liable to limitations and exceptions. 
 Instead of being curious after these (for I do not 
 fleny that such exceptions exist) let the great gene- 
 
141 
 
 ral duty of submission to civil aMthority be engra- 
 ven on our hearts, wrought into the very habit of 
 the mind; and made a part of our elementary mo- 
 rality. 
 
 At this season especially, when unanimity is so 
 requisite, every endeavour to excite discontent, by 
 reviling the character or depreciating the talents of 
 those who are entrusted with the administration, is 
 highly criminal. Without suspicion of flattery, we 
 may be permitted to add, that the ardor of their zeal 
 in the service of their country cannot be questioned ; 
 that the vast preparations they have made for our 
 defence claim our gratitude ; and that if, in a situ- 
 ation so arduous, and in the management of affairs 
 so complicated and difficult, they have committed 
 mistakes, they are amply entitled to a candid con- 
 struction of their measures. 
 
 Having been detained by these reflections some- 
 what longer than was intended, it is high time to re- 
 turn to those religious considerations which are more 
 immediately appropriate to the present season. I 
 therefore proceed to add, 
 
 4. That they appear to entertain mistaken senti- 
 ments, who rely with too much confidence for suc- 
 cess on our supposed superiority in virtue to our en- 
 emies. Such a confidence betrays inattention to the 
 actual conduct of Providence. Wherever there is 
 
14a 
 
 conscious guilt, there is room to apprehend punish- 
 ment ; nor is it for the criminal to decide where the 
 merited punishment shall first fall. The cup of di- 
 vine displeasure is presented successively to guilty 
 nations, but it by no means invariably begins with 
 those who have run the greatest career in guilt. On 
 the contr^Lvy, judgment often begins at the house of 
 God ; and he frequently chastises his servants with 
 severity, before he proceeds to the destruction of his 
 enemies. He assured Abraham, his seed should 
 be afflicted in Egypt for four hundred years, and 
 that after their expiration, the nation that afflicted 
 them he would judge. The Assyrian Monarchs, 
 blind and impious idolaters, were permitted for a 
 long period to enslave and oppress the chosen peo- 
 ple ; after which, to use his own words, he punished 
 the fruit of the proud heart of the king of Babylon, 
 and having accomplished his design in their correc- 
 tion, cast the rod into the fire. His conduct, on such 
 occasions, resembles that of a parent, who full of 
 solicitude for the welfare of his children, animad- 
 verts upon faults in them, which he suifers to pass 
 without notice in persons for whom he is less inter- 
 estcd. Let us adore both the goodness and sever- 
 ity of God. The punishments, which are designed 
 to amend, are inflicted with comparative vigilance 
 and speed ; those, which are meant to destroy, are 
 usually long suspended, while the devoted victimi^ 
 pass on with seeming impunity. 
 
143 
 
 But, independent of this consideration, that supe- 
 riority in virtue which is claimed, may be neither so 
 great nor so certain as we are ready at first to sup- 
 pose. To decide on the comparative guilt of two 
 individuals, much more of two nations, demands a 
 more comprehensive knowledge of circumstances 
 than we are usually able to obtain. To decide a 
 question of this sort, it is not enough barely to in- 
 spect the manners of each ; for the quality of ac- 
 tions, considered in themselves is one thing, and the 
 comparative guilt of the persons to whom they belong 
 is another. Before we can determine such a ques- 
 tion, it is necessary to weigh and estimate the com- 
 plicated influences to which they are exposed, the 
 tendency of all their institutions, their respective 
 degrees of information, and the comparative advan- 
 tages and disadvantages under which they are 
 placed. And who is equal to such a survey, but 
 the Supreme Judge, to whom it belongs to decide 
 on the character both of nations and individuals ? 
 
 Our enemies it is true, in the moments of anarchy 
 and madness, treated the religion of Jesus with an 
 ostentation of insult, but it was not till that religion 
 had been disguised, and almost concealed frotn their 
 view under a veil of falsehoods and impostures. 
 The religion they rejected, debased by foreign in- 
 fusions, mingled with absurd tenets, trifling super- 
 stitions, and cruel maxims, retained scarce any tra- 
 ces of the truth as it is in Jesus. The best of men 
 
14^j 
 
 were compelled to flee their country to avoid Us per^ 
 secutiiig fury, while the souls under the altar were 
 employed day and night in accusing it before God. 
 Religious inquiry was suppressed, the perusal of 
 the word of God discountenanced, or rather prohib«- 
 ited, and that book, to loose whose seals the Lamb 
 condescended to be slain, impiously closed by those 
 who styled themselves its ministers. In this situa- 
 tion it is less surprising if the body of the people,* 
 misled by pretended philosophers, lost sight of the 
 feeble glimmerings of light which shone in the midst 
 of so much obscurity. How far these considerations 
 may extenuate, before the Searcher of hearts, the 
 guilt of our enemies, it remains with him to deter- 
 mine. It is certain, our guilt is accompanied with 
 no such extenuation. With us the darkness has 
 long been past, and the true light has arisen upon 
 us. We have long possessed the clearest display of 
 divine truth, together with the fullest liberty of con- 
 science. The mysteries of the gospel have been un- 
 veiled, and its sanctifying truths pressed on the con- 
 science by those who havhig received such a minis- 
 try, knew it to be their duty to use great plainness 
 of speech. 
 
 The language of invective, it is acknowledged, 
 should be as carefully avoided in dispensing the 
 
 ' Tlie author bcg-s this remark may be understood to appl)' to tlie 
 Frencli people only, and not by any means to their infidel leaders. Of 
 the iiifidclii}' nf the latiev, there needs no other solution to be given than 
 
i45 
 
 word of God as tba,t of adulation ; but may we not, 
 without apprehension, ask whether it is not a mel- 
 anc'.ioly trulli, that many of us have continued in the 
 midst of all this light unchanged and impenitent ; 
 that if our enemies, with frantic impiety, renounced 
 the forms of religion, we remain destitute of the pow- 
 er ; and (hat if they abandoned the christian name, 
 the name is nearly the whole of Christianity to which 
 we can pretend ? Still we are ready, perhaps, to ex. 
 claim with the people of Israel in the context, JVe are 
 wisp, and the laic of the Lord is with us. Let us hear 
 the propliet's reply : Surely in vain hath he made it ; 
 the pen of the scribes is in vain. That law is most 
 emphatically in vain, which is the subject of boast 
 without being obeyed. That dispensation of reli 
 gion, however perfect is in vain, which cherishes 
 the pride, without forming the manners of a people. 
 Were we, indeed, a religious people, were the tra- 
 ces of Christianity as visible in our lives as they are 
 in our creeds and confessions, we might derive solid 
 support from the comparison of ourselves with 
 others ; but if the contrary be the fact, and there are 
 with us. even with us, sins against the Lord our God, 
 it will be our wisdom to relinquish this plea, and 
 instead of boasting our superior virtue, to lie low in 
 humiliation and repentance. 
 
 the Sci'ipUire one : The-i hted darkness rather than Ught, beeaiiso thev 
 doedn -irrrp PZ'if 
 
 19 
 
146 
 
 5. General lamentations and acknowle(l£:iMentp 
 of the corruptions of the age, be they ever so well- 
 founded, fall very short of the real duties of this 
 season. It is not difficult, how ever painful to a good 
 mind, to descant on the luxury, the venality, th« 
 impiety of the age, the irreligion of the rich, the 
 immorality of the poor, and the general forgetful- 
 ness of God which pervades all classes. Such 
 topics it would be utterly improper to exclude. 
 But to dwell on these alone, answers very little 
 purpose. The sentiments they excite are too vague 
 and indistinct to make a lasting impression. To 
 invest ourselves with an imaginary character, t« 
 represent the nation to which we belong, and com- 
 bining into one group the vices of the times, to ut- 
 ter loud lamentations, or violent invectives is aa 
 easy task. 
 
 But this, whatever it be, is not repentance. Af- 
 ter bewailing in this manner the sins of others, it is 
 possible to continue quite unconcerned about our 
 own. He who has been thus employed, may have 
 been merely acting a part ; uttering confessions in 
 which he never meant to take a personal share. 
 He would be mortally offended, perhaps, to have i^ 
 suspected that he himself had been guilty of any one 
 of the sins he has been deploij^tig, or that he had 
 contributed, in the smallest degree, to draw down 
 the judgments he so solemnly deprecates. All hag 
 
147 
 
 been transacted under a feii^ned character. Instead 
 ef repenting himself of his iniquity, or saying. 
 What have I done? lie secretly prides himself on 
 his exemption from tiie general stain ; and all the 
 advantage he derives from his humiliations and 
 confessions, is to become more deeply enamoured 
 of the perfections of what he supposes his real char- 
 acter. To such I would say, you are under a dan. 
 gerous delusion, and the manner in which you per- 
 form the duties of this season completes that delu- 
 sion Your repentance, your feigned, your theatrical 
 repentance, tends to fix you in impenitence, and your 
 humiliation to make you proud. Whatever opinion 
 you may entertain of the character of others, your 
 ©hief concern is at home. When you have broken 
 •ff your own sins by righteousness, you may, with 
 a more perfect propriety, deplore the sins of the 
 nation ; you may intercede for it in your prayers, 
 and, within the limits of your sphere, edify it by 
 your example; but till you have taken this first, 
 this necessary step, you have done nothing ; and 
 should the whole nation follow your example, and 
 eopy the spirit of your devotion, we should after 
 all, remain an impenitent, and finally, a ruined 
 people. 
 
 Allow me here, though it may seem a digression, 
 ,io endeavour the correction of a mistake, which 
 appears to me to have greatly perplexed, as well 
 as abridged, the duties of similar seasons to the 
 
148 
 
 present. The mistake to wliicli T allude, respects 
 the true idea of national sins. Many seem to take 
 it for granted, that nothing can justly he deemed a 
 national sin, but what has the sanction of the legis- 
 lature, or is committed under public authority. 
 "When they hear, therefore, of national sins, they in- 
 stantly revolve in their minds something which they 
 apprehend to be criminal in the conduct of public af- 
 fairs. That iniquity, when established by law, is 
 more conspicuous, that it tends to a more general 
 corruption, and by poisoning the streams of justice 
 at their source, produces more extensive mischief, 
 than under any other circumstances, it is impossi- 
 ble to deny. Jn a country, moreover, where the 
 pe<>ple have a voice in the government, the corrup- 
 tion of their laws must first have inhered, and be- 
 come inveterate in their manners. Such corruption 
 is therefore not so much an instance as a monument 
 of national degeneracy ; but it by no means fallows 
 that this is the only just idea of national sins. Na- 
 tional sins are the sins of tlie nation. The system 
 which teaches us to consider a peojile as speaUiug 
 and rcfing merely through tlie meditim of its prince 
 or legislature, however useful or necessary to adjust 
 the intercourse of nations with each other, is too 
 technical, too artificial, too much of a compromise 
 with the imperfection essential to human affairs, to 
 enter into the view s. or regulate the conduct of the 
 Supreme Being. He sees things as they are ; and 
 as the greater part of the crimes committed in every 
 
U9 
 
 country are perpetrated by its inhabitants in their 
 individual cliaracter, it is tliese, though not to the 
 exclusion of others, which chiefly provoke the divine 
 judgments. 
 
 To consider national sins as merely comprehend- 
 ing the vices of rulers, or the iniquities tolerated by 
 lavr, is to place the duties of such a season as this 
 in a very invidious and a very inadequate light. It 
 is to rpud<'r them invidious : for upon this principle 
 our chief business on such occasions is, to single 
 out for attack those whom we are commanded to 
 obey, to descant on public abuses, and to hold up to 
 detestation and abhorrence the supposed delinqu<n- 
 cies of the government under w hich we are placed. 
 How far such a conduct tends to promote that bro- 
 ken and contrite heart w liich is heaven's best sacri- 
 fice, it requires no great sagacity to discover. 
 
 It is moreover, to exhibit a most inadequate view 
 of the duties of this season. It coniincs iiumiliatiou 
 and confession to a mere scantlins: of the sins which 
 pollute a nation. Under the worst governments (to 
 say nothing of our own) the chief perversions of 
 right are not found in courts of justice, nor the chief 
 outrages on virtue in the law s, nor the greatest num- 
 ber of atrocities in the public administration. Civil 
 government, the great antidote which the wisdom 
 of man has applied to tlie crimes and disorders 
 that spring up in society, can scarcely ever become, 
 
in no free country at least, is it possible for it to 
 become, itself the chief crime and disorder. It 
 may, on occasion, prescribe particular things that 
 are wrong, and sometimes reward where it ought 
 to punish ; but unless it bent its force, for the most 
 part, to the encouragement of virtue and the sup- 
 pression of vice ; unless the general spirit of its laws 
 were in unison with the dictates of conscience, it 
 would soon fall to pieces from intestine weakness 
 and disorder. 
 
 A last appeal, in all moral questions, lies to the 
 Scriptures, were you will invariably find the pro- 
 phets, in their boldest paintings of national vice, 
 in their severest denunciations of divine anger, are 
 so far from confining their representation to the 
 conduct of rulers, that they are seldom mentioned 
 in comparison of the people. Their attention is 
 chiefly occupied in depicting the corruptions which 
 prevailed in the several classes of the community, 
 among which the crimes of princes and judges are 
 most severely reprehended^ not as representatives, 
 but as parts of the whole. They know nothing of 
 that refinement, by which a people are at liberty to 
 transfer their vices to their rulers. To confirm 
 this remark, by adducing all the instances the pro- 
 phecies afford, would be to quote a great part of 
 the Old Testament: it is sufficient to refer you to 
 the twenty second chapter of Ezekiel, where, after 
 pourtrayiug the manners of the age with the pecu- 
 
i9i 
 
 liar reheraence of style which distinguished that 
 holy prophet, he closes liis description with these 
 remarkable words : And I sought for a man amo7ig 
 them that should make up the hedge, and stand in 
 the gup before me for the land, that I should not 
 destroy it: but I found none. 
 
 Let us not deceive ourselves with vain words. Th* 
 just displeasure of God, as it will by no means 
 spare the great when tliey are criminal and impeni- 
 tent, so neither is it excited by thei,r wickedness 
 alone. It is afire supplied from innumerable sources, 
 to which every crime contributes its quota, and 
 which every portion of guilt, wherever it is found, 
 causes to burn with ausimented violence. 
 
 'S' 
 
 1 Having thus endeavoured to expose those grounds 
 of confidence which appear replete with danger, it 
 will not be necessary to dwell long on the remain- 
 ing part of the subject. To be aware of the several 
 wrong paths into which we are liable to be misled, 
 is the principal requisite to the finding out that 
 which is alone the true and riglit one. 
 
 The first duty to which our situation summons us, 
 is a devout acknowledgment of the hand of God. 
 To this, whatever be tlie instruments employed, re- 
 ligion instructs us ultimately to refer national calam- 
 ities as well as national blessings. That the Lord 
 reigns, is one of those truths which lie at the very 
 
ids 
 
 basis of piety ; nor is there any more consoling. It 
 fills the heart, under a right impression of it, with a 
 cheerful hope, and unruffled tranquillity amidst the 
 changes and trials of life, which we shall look for 
 in vain from any other quarter. It is this chiefly 
 which formed and distinguished the character of 
 those who are emphatically said to have walked 
 with God. Important as tliis disposition is under 
 all circumstances, it is what more especially suits the 
 present crisis, and which the events we have wit- 
 nessed are so eminently calculated to impress. The 
 Psalmist accounts for the wicked's refusing to seek 
 after God, from their having no changes ; and cer- 
 tainly an uninterrupted series of prosperity, is not 
 favourable to piety. But if ire forget God, we can- 
 not plead even this slight extenuation ; for the times 
 that Me passing over us, in the solemn phrase of 
 Scripture, are eventful beyond all former example 
 or conception. The fearful catastrophies, the strange 
 vicissitudes, the sudden revolutions of fortune, 
 which, thinly scattered heretofore over a long tract 
 of ages, poets and historians have collected, and ex 
 hihited to the terror and the commiseration of man- 
 kind, have crowded upon us with so strange rapid- 
 ity, and thickened so fast, that they have become 
 perfectly familiar, and are almost numbered among 
 ordinary events. Astonishment has exhausted it- 
 self; and whatever occurs, we cease to be surpris- 
 ed. In short, every thing around us, in tlic course 
 of a few years, is so changed, that did not the per- 
 
193 
 
 manenee and stability of the material, form a con- 
 trast to the fluctuations of the moral and political 
 world, we might he tempted to suppose we had been 
 removed to another state, or that all those things 
 that have happened, were but the illusions of fancy 
 and the visions of the night. How consoling, at 
 such a season, to look up to that Being, who is a 
 very present help in trouble, the dwelling place of 
 all generations ; who changes all things, and is him- 
 self unchanged ! And independent of its impiety, 
 how cruel is that philosophy which, under pre- 
 tence of superior illumination, by depriving us of 
 this resource, would leave us exposed to the tossings * 
 of a tempestuous ocean, without compass, without 
 solace, and without hope ! 
 
 But besides this acknowledgment of the general 
 administration of the Deity, it behoves us to feel 
 and confess, in national calamities, the tokens of 
 his displeasure. The evils which overtake nations 
 are tlie just judgments of the Almighty. I am per- 
 fectly aware of the disadvantages under which we 
 labour, when we insist on this topic, from its being 
 80 trite and familiar. Instead of troubling you 
 with a general, and I fear, unavailing descant on 
 the manners of the age, I shall therefore content 
 myself with calling your attention to a very few of 
 what appear to me the most alarming syiftptoms of 
 national degeneracy. Here we shall, not insist so 
 much on the progress of infidelity (though much to 
 
 20 
 
151 
 
 be deplored) as on an evil to which, if we are not 
 greatly mistaken, that progress is chiefly to be as- 
 cribed : I mean a gradual departure from the pecu- 
 liar truths, maxims, and spirit of Christianity. 
 Christianity, issuing perfect and entire from the 
 hands of its Author, will admit of no mutilations 
 nor improvement : it stands most secure on its own 
 basis ; and without being indebted to foreign aids, 
 supports itself best by its own internal vigour. 
 When under the pretence of simplifying it, we at- 
 tempt to force it into a closer alliance with the most 
 approved systems of philosophy, we are sure to 
 contract its bounds, and to diminish its force and 
 authority over the consciences of men. It is dog- 
 matic ; not capable of being advanced with the 
 progress of science, but fixed and immutable. We 
 may not be able to perceive the use or necessity of 
 some of its discoveries, but they are not on this 
 account the less binding on our faith : just as there 
 are many parts of nature,* whose purposes we are 
 
 * " We ought not," says the great Bacon, '* to attempt to draw down or 
 jubmit the mysteries of God to our reason, but on the contrary, to raise 
 and advance our reason to the divine truth. In this part of knowlcdg'c, 
 touching divine philosophy, 1 am so far from noting any deficiency, that 
 I rather note an excess ; whereto I have digressed, becraise of the ex- 
 treme prejudice, which both religion and philosophy have received from 
 being commixed together, as that which undoubtedly will make an hereti- 
 cal religion and a fabulous philosophy." 
 
 This observation appears to me to deserve the most profomid medita- 
 tion ; and kat my remarks on this sulijcct sliould appear presumptuous 
 fi'om so inconsiderable a person, I thoug-ht it requisite to fortify myself 
 by so great an authority. 
 
i55 
 
 at a loss to explore, of winch, if any person were 
 bold enough to arraign the propriety, it would be 
 sufficient to reply that God made them. They are 
 both equally the works of Grod : and both equally 
 partake of the mysteriousness of their Author. This 
 integrity of the christian faith has been insensibly 
 impaired ; and the simplicity of mind with which 
 it should be embraced, gradually diminished. While 
 tlte outworks of the sanctuary have been defended 
 with the utmost ability, its interior has been too 
 much neglected, and the fire upon the altar suffered 
 to languish and decay. The truths and mysteries 
 which distinguish the christian from all other reli- 
 gions, have been little attended to by some, totally 
 denied by others ; and while infinite efforts have 
 been made by the utmost subtlety of argumentation, 
 to establish the truth and authenticity of revelation, 
 few have been exerted in comparison, to shew what 
 it really contains.' The consequence has been such 
 as might be expected — an increase of profaneness, 
 immorality, and irrcligion. 
 
 The traces of piety have been wearing out more 
 and more, from our conversation, from our manners, 
 from our popular publications, from the current 
 literature of the age. In proportion as the maxims 
 and spirit of Christianity have declined, infidelity 
 has prevailed in their room : for infidelily is, in 
 reality, nothing more than a noxious spawn (par- 
 
156 
 
 don the metaphor) bred in the stagnant marshes of 
 Christianity. 
 
 A lax theology is the natural parent of a lax mo- 
 rality. The peculiar motives, accordingly, by 
 which the inspired writers enforce their moral les- 
 sons, the love of God and the Redeemer, concern 
 for the honour of religion, and gratitude for the in- 
 estimable benefits of the christian redemption, have 
 no place in the fashionable systems of moral in- 
 struction.* The motives almost exclusively urged 
 are such as take their rise from the present state, 
 founded on reputation, on honour, on health, or on 
 the tendency of the things recommended to pro- 
 mote, under some form or other, the acquisition of 
 worldly advantages. Thus even morality itself, 
 by dissociating it from "Veligion, is made to cherish 
 the love of the world, and to bar the heart more 
 effectually against the approaches of piety. 
 
 Here I cannot forbear remarking a great change 
 which has taken place in the whole manner of reason- 
 ing on the topics of morality and religion, from what 
 prevailed in the last century, and as far as my infor- 
 mation extends, in any preceding age. This whichis 
 an age of revolutions, has also produced a strange re- 
 
 * If the reader wishes for a further statement and iUustratlon of these 
 melancholy facts, he may find it in Mr. Wilberforce's celebrated Look on 
 religion, a work which has, perhaps done more than any other to rouse 
 the insensibility and augment tlie piety of the aye. 
 
107 
 
 volution in the method of viewing these subjects, tht 
 most important by far, that can engage the attention 
 of man. The simplicity of our ancestors, nourished 
 by the sincere milk of the word, rather than by the 
 tenets of a disputatious philosophy, were content to 
 let morality remain on the firm basis of the dictates 
 of conscience and the will of God. They consider- 
 ed virtue as an ultimate thing, and as bounding the 
 mental prospect. They never supposed for a mo- 
 ment there was any thing, to which it stood merely 
 in the relation of a meansy or that within the narrow 
 confines of this momentary state, any thing great 
 enough could be found to be its end or object. It 
 never occurred to their imagination, that that reli- 
 gion wliieh professes to render us superior to the 
 world, is in reality nothing more than an instru- 
 ment to procure the temporal, the physical good of 
 individuals or of society. In their view, it had a 
 nobler scope and destination : it looked forward to 
 eternity ; and if ever they appear to have assigned it 
 any end or object beyond itself, it was a union with its 
 author, in the immortal fruition of God. They arrang- 
 ed these things in the following order : Religion com- 
 prehending the love, fear, and service of the Author 
 of our being, they placed first : social morality, 
 founded on its dictates, confirmed by its sanctions, 
 next ; and the more physicial good of society they 
 contemplated as subordinate to both. Every thing 
 is now reversed. The pyramid is inverted : the first 
 is last, and the last first. Religion is degraded 
 
153 
 
 from its pre-eminence, into the mere handmaid of 
 social morality ; social morality into an instrument 
 of advancing the welfare of society ; and the world is 
 all in all. Nor have we deviated less from the ex- 
 ample of antiquity than from that of our pious fore- 
 fathers. The philosophers of antiquity in the ab- 
 sence of superior light, consulted with reverence 
 the permanent principles of nature, the dictates of 
 conscience, and the best feelings of the heart, 
 which they employed all the powers of reason and 
 eloquence to unfold, to adorn, to enforce; and there- 
 by formed aluminous commentary ok ^/ie law writ- 
 ten on the heart. The virtue which they inculcat- 
 ed, grew out of the stock of human nature : it was 
 a warm and living virtue. It was the moral man, 
 possessing in every limb and feature, in all its 
 figure and movements, the harmony, dignity, and 
 variety, which belong to the human form : it was 
 an effort of unassisted nature to restore that image 
 of God, which sin had mutilated and defaced. Im- 
 perfect, as might be expected, their morality was 
 often erroneous, but in its great outlines it had all 
 the stability of the human constitution, and its fun- 
 damental principles were coeval and coexistent with 
 human nature. There could be nothing fluctuating 
 and arbitrary in its more weighty decisions, since 
 it appealed every moment to the man within the 
 breast : it pretends to nothing more, than to give 
 voice and articulation to the inward sentiments of 
 the heart, and conscience echoed to its oraeleg. 
 
159 
 
 This, ^vrought into different systems, and under 
 various modes of illufetration, was the general form 
 which morality exhibited, from the creation of the 
 world till our time. In this state revelation found 
 it; and, correcting what was erroneous, supplying 
 what was defective, and confirming what was right 
 by its peculiar sanctions, superadded a number of 
 supernatural truths and holy mysteries. How is it, 
 that on a subject on which men have thought deep- 
 ly, from the moment they began to think, and 
 where, consequently, whatever is entirely and fun- 
 damentally new, must be fundamentally false ; how 
 is it, that in contempt of the experience of past ages, 
 and of all precedents human and divine, we have 
 ventured into a path which no eye had explored, 
 no foot had trod, and have undertaken, after the 
 lapse of six thousand years, to manufacture a mo- 
 rality of our own, to decide by a cold calculation of 
 interest, by a ledger-book of profit and of loss, the 
 preference of truth to falsehood, of piety to blas- 
 phemy, and of humanity and justice to treachery 
 *nd blood ? 
 
 In the science of morals, We are taught by this 
 system to consider nothing as yet done ; we are in- 
 vited to erect a fresh fabric on a fr^^sh foundation. 
 All the eliments and sentiments which entered into 
 the essence of virtue before, are melted down, and 
 cast into a new mould. Instead of appejiling to 
 any internal principle, every thing is left to calcu- 
 
160 
 
 lation, and determined by expediency. In cxecnt- 
 ing this plan, the jurisdiction of conscience is abol- 
 ished; her decisions are classed with those of a su- 
 perannuated judge, and the determination of moral 
 causes is adjourned from the interior tribunal to 
 the noisy forum of speculative debate. Every 
 thing, without exception, is made an affair of cal- 
 culation ; under which are comprehended, not 
 merely the duties we owe to our fellow-creatures, 
 but even the love and adoration w hich the Supreme 
 being claims at our hands. His claims are set 
 aside, or suffered to lie in abeyance, until it can be 
 determined how far they can be admitted on the 
 principles of expedience, and in what respect they 
 may interfere with the acquisition of temporal ad- 
 vantages. Even here, nothing is yielded to the 
 suggestions of conscience, nothing, to the move- 
 ments of the heart. All is dealt out with a sparing 
 hand, under the stint and measure of calculation. 
 Instead of being allowed to love God with all our 
 heart, and all our strength, the first and great com- 
 mandment, the portion of love assigned him is 
 weighed out with the utmost scrupulosity, and the 
 supposed excess more severely censured than th« 
 real deficiency. 
 
 Thus, by a strange inversion, the indirect influ- 
 ence of Christianity, in promoting the temporal 
 good of mankind, is mistaken for its pr'incipal end ; 
 the skirts of her robe are confounded with her 
 
161 
 
 body, and tbe foicer of the world to come, instead 
 of raisins^ our thoughts and contemplations from 
 earth to heaven, from the creature to the Creator, 
 are made solely subservient to the advancement 
 of secular intt*rests and passions. How these sen- 
 timents accord with the dictates of inspiration, the 
 most unlettered christian may easily decide. Love 
 not the tcorld, said the disciple who leaned on the 
 breast of his Lord, neither the things that are in the 
 world ; for if any man love the world, the love of the 
 Father is not in him. And the world passeth aicay, 
 and the lusts thereof; hut he that doeth the will of 
 God abidethfor ever. Such was the idea entertained 
 by an inspired apostle of christian virtue. Let us 
 now turn to the modern philosopher. Virtue, he 
 will inform us, (including the whole sum of our du- 
 ties) is merely an expedient for promoting the in- 
 terests and advantages of the present world, of that 
 very world, that is, which, in the eyes of John, was 
 passing away, and whose value he so solemnly de- 
 preciates. What admirable consistency ! what ele- 
 vated theology ! If we can suppose this holy apos- 
 tle acquainted with what passes on earth, what sat- 
 isfaction it must afford his gloriiied spirit, to find 
 bis sentiments so well understood, and so faithfully 
 interpreted. 
 
 In former times it was supposed, one of the most 
 effectual means of improvement in virtue was, the 
 moral culture of the heart : to keep it with all dili- 
 
 31 
 
16S 
 
 gence, because out of it are the issues of life, was 
 thought an advice deserving the most serious atten- 
 tion. To examine frequently the state of the con- 
 science, and to check the first risings of disorder 
 there, was judged to be of the last importance. 
 
 It is easy to see how this moral discipline must 
 fare under the doctrine of expediency, a doctrine 
 which teaches man to be looking continually abroad ; 
 a doctrine which not only justifies, but enjoins, a dis- 
 trust of the suggestions of the inward monitor ; 
 which will not permit the best feelings of the heart, 
 its clearest dictates, its finest emotions, to have the 
 smallest influence over the conduct ; and instead of 
 yielding any thing to their direction, cites them at 
 its bar. 
 
 As this fashion of reducing every moral question 
 to a calculation of expedience is a most important 
 innovation, it would be strange if it had not produ- 
 ced a change in the manners of society. In fact, it 
 has produced an entirely new cast of character, 
 equally remote from the licentious gaiety of high 
 life, and the low profligacy which falls under the 
 lash of the law ; a race of men distinguished by a 
 calm and terrible ferocity, resembling Csesar in this 
 only, that as it was said of him, they have come 
 with sobriety to the ruin of their country. The 
 greatest crimes no longer issue from the strongest 
 passions, but from the coolest head. Vice and ira- 
 
163 
 
 piety have made a new conquest, and have added 
 the regions of speculation to their dominion. The 
 patrons of impurity and licentiousness have put on 
 the cloak of the philosopher : maxims the most li- 
 centious have found their way into hooks of pretend- 
 ed morality, and have heen inculcated with the airs 
 of a moral sage.* The new doctrine having with- 
 drawn the attention from all internal sentiments, as 
 well as destroyed their authority', distinction between 
 right and wrong was easily lost sight of ; the boun- 
 daries of vice and virtue confounded, and the whole 
 substance of morals fell a prey to contending dispu- 
 tants. Nor is this the only or the worst conse- 
 quejice which has followed, A callous indifference 
 to all moral distinctions is an almost inseparable ef- 
 fect of the familiar application of this theory. Vir- 
 tue is no longer contemplated as the object of any 
 particular sentiment or feelings but solely with re- 
 gard to its effects on society : it is what it produced. 
 not what it is, that is alone considered, just as an 
 accountant is indifferent to the shape and appear- 
 ance of the figures, and attends simply to their 
 amount. Crimes and virtues arc equally candidates 
 for approbation, nor must the heart betray the least 
 preference, which would be to prejudge the cause ; 
 but must maintain a sacred neutrality, till expedi- 
 ence, whose hand never trembles in the midst of 
 the greatest horrors, has weighed in her impartial 
 balance their consequences and effects. In the 
 
 " The unholy speculations of Godwin were founded rnUroly on thif, b-fsit. 
 
164 
 
 mean time, they are equally candidates, we repeat 
 it again, for our approbation, and equally entitled 
 to it, providing the passions can be deceived into an 
 opinion, and this is not difficult, that they will come 
 to tlie same thing at the foot of the account. Hence 
 that intrepidity in guilt, which has cased the hearts 
 of the greatest adepts in this system, as with triple 
 brass. Its seeds were sown by some of these with 
 an unsparing hand, in France, a congenial soilj 
 where they produced a quick vegetation. The con- 
 sequences were soon felt. The fabric of society 
 tottered to its base ; the earth shook under their 
 feet, the heavens were involved in darkness, and a 
 Yoice more audible than thunder called npon them 
 to desist. But, unmoved amidst the uproar of 
 elements, undismayed by that voice which astonish- 
 es nature and appals the guilty, these men continued 
 absorbed in their calculation. Instead of revering 
 the judgments, or confessing the finger of God, they 
 only made more haste (still on the principle of ex- 
 pediency.) to desolate his works, and destroy his 
 image, as if they were apprehensive the shades of a 
 premature night might fall and cover their victims. 
 
 But it is time to conclude tliis discussion, which 
 has, perhaps, already fatigued by its length. I can- 
 not help expressing my apprehension, that this de- 
 secration of virtue, this incessant domination of phy- 
 sical over moral ideas, of ideas of expedience over 
 those of right; having already dethroned religion, and 
 
169 
 
 displaced virtue from her ancient basis, will, if it is 
 suffered to proceed, ere long shake tlie foundation 
 of states, and endanger the existence of the civilized 
 world. Should it ever become popular; should it 
 ever descend from speculation into common life, and 
 become the practical morality of the age, we may 
 apply to sucli a period the awful words of Balaam ; 
 Who shall live when God doth this ? No imagina- 
 tion can pourtray, no mind can grasp its horrors ; 
 nor when tlie angel in the Apocalypse, to whom the 
 keys are entrusted, shall be commissioned to open 
 the bottomless pit, will it send forth a thicker cloud 
 of pestilential vapour. If the apparent simplicity 
 of this system be alleged in its favour, I would say, 
 it is the simplicity of meanness ; it is a simplicity 
 which is its shame ; a day-light whicli reveals its 
 beggary. If au air of obscurity, on the contrary, is 
 ' objected against that of better times, let it be remem^ 
 bered that every science has its ultimate questionSf 
 boundaries which cannot be passed, and that if these 
 occur earlier in morals than in other inquiries, it is 
 the natural result of the immensity of the sui)ject, 
 which, touching human nature in every point, sur- 
 rounding it on all sides, renders it difficult, or rath- 
 er impossible, to trace it in all its relations, and 
 view it in all its extent. Meanwhile, the shades 
 which envelope, and will, perhaps, always envelope 
 it in some measure, are not without their use, since 
 they teach the two most important lessons we can 
 learn — the vanity of our reason, txi'A the grandeur 
 
166 
 
 of our destiny. It is not improbable some may be 
 offended at the M'armth and freedom which accom- 
 pany these remarks : my apology, however, rests on 
 the infinite importance of the subject, my extreme 
 solicitude to impress what appear to me right sen- 
 timents respecting it, together with the considera- 
 tion, that the confidence which ill becomes the in- 
 novators of yesterday, however able, may be par- 
 doned in the defenders, however weak, of a system 
 which has stood tlie test and sustained the virtue of 
 two thousand years.* Let us return, then, to the 
 
 * The system which founds morality on utility, an utility, let it be 
 • ahvays remembered, confined to the purposes 'of the present world, 
 issued with ill omen from the school of infidelity. It was first broached, 
 I believe, certainly first brought into general notice, by Mr. Hume, in 
 his Treatise on Morals, which he himself pronounced incomparably the 
 best he ever wrote. It was incomparably the best for his purpose ; nor 
 is it easy to imagine a mind so acute as his did not see the effect it would 
 have in setting morality and religion afloat: and substituting for the 
 stability of principle the looseness of specuhttion and opinion. It h.is 
 since been rendered popular by a succession, of eminent writers ; by one 
 especially (I doubt not with intentions very foreign from those of Mr. 
 Hume) whose great services te religion in other respects, tog'cthcr with 
 m}' high reverence for his talents, prevent me from naming. This vene- 
 rable author, it is probable, little suspected to what lengths the principle 
 would be carried, or to wliat purposes it woul4 be applied in other hands. 
 Had he foreseen this, I cannot but imagine he v. ould have spared this 
 part of his acute speculations. 
 
 We have happily, preserved to us two complete Treatises on Morals, 
 in which the authors professed to give us a complete view of our duties ; 
 the one composed by the greatest master of reason, the other of elo- 
 quence, the world ever saw. The fii-st of these has distinguished, clas- 
 sified and arranged the elements of social nwrality, which is all he could 
 reacli in the absence of revelation, with that acuteness, subtilt)', and pre- 
 
167 
 
 safe and sober paths of our aaccfstors ; adhering, in 
 all moral questions, to the dictates of conscience, 
 regulated and informed by the divine word ; happy 
 to enjoy, instead of sparks of our own kindling, the 
 benefit of those luminaries \vhieh, placed in the mor- 
 
 cision, for which he was so eminently distlnguislied. AVhocver atten- 
 tively peruses his Treatise, on the Nicomachian Monils I mean, will find 
 a perpetual reference to the inward sentiments of tlie breast. He builds 
 every thing on ihc human constitution. He all along takes it for granted, 
 that tlicre is a proud impress on tl\e mind, to which, without looking 
 abroad, we may safcl)" appeal. In a word, Aristotle never lost the moral- 
 ist in tl\e accountant. He ha.s been styled the Interpreter of Nature, and 
 has certainly shown himself a most able commentator on the laxc ivrltten 
 on the heart. For Cicero, in all l>is philosophical works, as well as in 
 his offices, where he treats more directly on these subjects, he shows the 
 most extreme solicitude, as though he had a prophetic glance of what 
 was to happen, to keep the irtoral and natural world apart, to assert the 
 supremacy of virtue, and to recognize those sentiments and vestige;* 
 from which he educes, witli the utmost elevation, the contempt of human 
 things. How humiliating the consideration ! that witli such superior advan- 
 tages, our moral systems should be infinitely surpassed in warmth and 
 grandeur bj' those of Pagan times, and that the most jejune and comfort- 
 less that ever entered tlie mind of man, and tlie most abhorrent from the 
 spirit of religion, should have ever become popular in a christian coun- 
 try. This departure from the precedents of antiquity, will not, by those 
 that are capable of forming a judgment, be easily imputed to the supe- 
 riority of our talents ; it is rather the result of that ten<lcncy to degva- 
 dation which has long marked our progress. Along with the simplicity 
 of faith and h reverence for the Scriptures, our resjicct for the dignity 
 (rightly understood) of human nature, and tenderness for its best inter- 
 ests, have been gradually impaired. A fearlessness of consequences, a 
 hardihood of mind, a disposition to sacrifice every thing to originality, 
 or to a pi-etcnded philosophical precision, have succcedetl in their 
 place. This, in my humble opinion, lias been the great bane of modern 
 speculation, and has rendered so much of it wild, ferocious, and de- 
 structive. 
 
168 
 
 al firraamont by a parent hand, have guided the 
 church from the beginning, in her mysterious so- 
 journ to eternity. Stand in the way, and see, and 
 ask for the old path, which is the good icay^ and 
 walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls. 
 
 Instead of demolishing the temple of christian vir- 
 tue, from a presumptuous curiosity to inspect its 
 foundations, let us rejoice they are laid too deep for 
 our scrutiny. Let us worship in it ; and along w'lih 
 the nations of them that are saved, walk in its light. 
 
 Having endeavoured to point out the source of 
 our degeneracy, in a departure from the doctrines 
 and spirit of Christianity, I hasten to dispatch the 
 remainder of this discourse ; nor will it detain you 
 long. 
 
 Whoever has paid attention to the manners of the 
 day, must have perceived a remarkable innovation 
 in the use of moral terms, in which we have receded 
 more and more from the spirit of Christianity. Of 
 this, the term employed to denote a lofty sentiment 
 of personal superiority supplies an obvious instance. 
 In the current language of the times, pride is scarce- 
 ly ever used but in a favourable sense. It will, 
 perhaps, be thought the mere change of a term is of 
 little consequence ; but be it remembered, that any 
 remarkable innovation in the use of moral terms, be- 
 trays a proportionable change in the ideas and feel- 
 
169 
 
 iugs they are intended to denote. As pride has 
 been transferred from the list of vices to that of vir- 
 tues, so humility, as a natural consequence, has 
 been excluded, and is rarely suffered to enter into 
 the praise of a character we wish to commend, al- 
 though it was the leading feature in that of the 
 Saviour of the world, and is still the leading charac- 
 teristic of his religion. There is no vice, on the 
 contrary, against which the divine denunciations 
 are so frequent as pride. Our conduct, in this in- 
 stance, is certainly rather extraordinary, both in 
 what we have embraced, and in what we have re- 
 jected : and it will surely be confessed, we are 
 somewhat unfortunate, in having selected that 
 vice as the particular object of approbation, which 
 God had already selected as the especial mark at 
 which he aims the thunderbolts of his vengeance. 
 
 Another symptom of degeneracy appears in th« 
 growing disregard to the external duties of religion; 
 the duties more especially of the Lord's day and of 
 public worship. It is supposed by such as have the 
 best means of information, that throughout the king- 
 dom, the number who regularly assemble for wor- 
 ship is far inferior to those who neglect it ; that in 
 our great. towns and cities they are not one-fourth 
 of the people, and in the metropolis a much smaller 
 proportion. It is easy to fore-see how the leisure 
 afforded by the christian Sabbath will be employed 
 by those who utterly forget the design of its institu- 
 
 S3 
 
170 
 
 tion. It is somewhat remarkable, that here the ex- 
 tremes meet, and that the public duties of religion 
 are most slighted by the highest and the lowest clas- 
 ses of society ; by the former, 1 fear, from indolence 
 and pride; by the latter, from ignorance and profli- 
 gacy. 
 
 Too many of the first description, when they do 
 attend, it is in such a manner as makes it evident 
 they esteem it merely an act of condeseensiotj, to 
 which they submit as an example to their inferiors, 
 who, penetrating the design, and imitating their 
 indilft'rence rather than their dovotion, are disgust- 
 ed with a religion which they perceive has no hold 
 on their superiors, and is only imposed upon them- 
 selves as a badge of inferiority and a muzzle of re- 
 straint. Could the rich and noble be prevailed 
 upun for a momont to attend to the instructions of 
 their Lord, instead of making their elevated rank a 
 reason for neglecting these duties, they would learn 
 that tliere are none to whom they are so necessary, 
 since there are none whose situation is to perilous, 
 wliose responsibility is so great, and whose salva- 
 tion is so arduous. 
 
 Here fidelity compels me to advert to a circum- 
 stance, which I mention with sincere reluctance, 
 because it implies something like a censure on the 
 conduct of those wiiom it is our duty to respect. 
 You are, probably, aware I mean the assigning 
 
171 
 
 part of the Sunday to military exercises. "When 
 we consider how important an institution the chris- 
 tian Sabhath is, how essential to the maintenance 
 of pnhlic worship, which is itself essential to reli- 
 fijion, and what a barrier it opposes to the impiety 
 and immorality of the age, is it not to be lamented 
 that it should ever have been, in the ,smallest de- 
 gree, infringed by legislative authority ? The rest 
 of the Sabbath had been already too much violated, 
 its duties too much neglected ; but this is the first 
 instance of the violation of it being publicly recom- 
 mended and enjoined ;* at a time too, when we are 
 engaged with an enemy, whose very name conveys 
 a warning against impiety. Our places of worship 
 have been thinned by the absense of those who 
 have been employed in military evolutions, and of 
 a still greater number of gazers, whom such spec- 
 tacles attract. Nor is the time lost from religious 
 duties so much to be considered, as that tumult and 
 hurry of mind, utterly incompatible with devotion, 
 which are inseparable from military ideas and pre- 
 parations. It could surely never be the intention 
 of the legislature, though such has been the effect, 
 to detach the defenders of their country from the 
 worshippers of God : nor is it to be supposed they 
 adverted to the iniluenee which a precedent of such 
 high authority must have, in divesting the Sabbath 
 of its sanctity in the eyes of the people, and of es- 
 
 * The book of Sports in Cliurles tlie Second's i^iifn, is not an excep' 
 lion, as this, lhoii;^h sufficiently censurable, was not considered as a vio- 
 lation of tlie n-st of the Sabb^ih, 
 
17S 
 
 tablisliiug the fatal epoch, whence it was no longer 
 to be revered as the ordinance of heaven. They 
 had, we will believe, no such intention ; but the in- 
 nocence of the intention abates nothing of the mis- 
 chief of the precedent. 
 
 As it is foreign from my purpose to make a com- 
 plete enumeration of national sins, which would 
 not only be a most painful task in itself, but quite 
 incompatible with the limits of this discourse, I 
 shall content myself with the mention of one more 
 proof of the degeneracy of our manners. This 
 proof is found in that almost universal profaneness 
 which taints our daily intercourse, and which has 
 risen to such a height as to have become a melan- 
 choly characteristic of our country. In no nation 
 under heaven, probably, has the profanation of sa- 
 cred terms been so prevalent as in this christian land. 
 The name even of the Supreme Being himself, and 
 the words he has employed to denounce the punish- 
 ment of the impenitent, are rarely mentioned but in 
 anger or in sport ; so that were a stranger to our 
 history to witness the style of our conversation, hs 
 would naturally infer we considered religion as a 
 detected imposture, and that nothing more remained 
 than, in return for the fears it had inspired, to treat 
 it with the insult and derision due to a fallen tyrant. 
 To view this practice in the most favourable light, 
 it indicates, as has been observed by a great writer,* 
 
 * Dr. Faley. 
 
173 
 
 '^ a mind over which religious considerations have 
 little influence." It also sufficiently accounts for 
 that propensity to ridicule piety, which is one of our 
 national peculiarities. It would be unfair to sup- 
 pose, that at the best times there was ever more piety 
 on the continent than here : be this as it may, it 
 never appears to have exposed its possessors to 
 contempt; nor was the sublime devotion of Fene- 
 lon and of Pascal ever considered as forming a 
 shade to their genius — the reverence for religion 
 had not been worn away by the f:i!niliar abuse of its 
 peculiar terms. 
 
 It will be expected something should be said on 
 the slave-trade. Its enormity no words can ex- 
 press. But here we must feel a mixture of satis- 
 tion and regret ; of satisfaction, at finding it has 
 excited such general indignation among the people ; 
 of regret, that notwithstanding this, it should still be 
 continued. By the most earnest and unanimous 
 remonstrances, addressed to those who alone could 
 abolish it, the people have purged themselves from 
 this contamination. Their application was unsuc- 
 cessful. The guilt and turpitude of this traffic now 
 rests on the heads of those who sanction, and of 
 those who conduct it. From some recent events in 
 the western colonies, it seems not uuliitely tiie 
 Deity is about to take this affair into his own 
 hands, and to accomplish by his interposition what 
 has been denied to the prayer of the nation. 
 
174; 
 
 It is far from being a pleasing employ ; it is pain- 
 ful, it is distressing to dwell on such topics ; but it 
 is necessary. Our disease has gone too far to ad. 
 mit of palliatives; our wounds are too t^ep to be 
 healed, till they are searched and probed to the 
 bottom. The only safe expedient which remains 
 to be adopted, is an immediate return to God ; to 
 forsake every one his evil way, and the violence that 
 is in his hands, and cry mightily to him : and ivho 
 can tell, if God ivill turn and repent, and turn 
 away his fierce anger from us. At the same time 
 let it be remembered, that repentance is a personal 
 concern. Instead of losing ourselves in a crowd, 
 and resting in general confessions, we oug})-t each 
 one to examine his own ways and turn from his own 
 iniquity. We shall not fail, if we have a spark of 
 piety, to lament the prevalence of sin around us, 
 but we can repent only of our own : and how ever 
 in the present mixed and imperfect state, we may 
 share in the judgments and calamities which other 
 men's sins draw down, it is those w^e commit our- 
 selves which alone can do us ultimate injury. Our 
 continuance here is but for a short time, after 
 whiei), as many as are purified and made white, 
 will remove into another world, be placed under 
 a higher economy, and be put in possession ofaking- 
 dom that cannot he moved. We need be under no 
 apprehension, lest the cherishing the sentiments we 
 have recommended should lead to despondency. 
 
175 
 
 We have an Higli Priest, who through the Eternal 
 Spirit offered himself without spot to God. In the 
 midst of the deepest humiliation, we are invited to 
 look up to him, with a humble reliance on the effica- 
 cy of his blood, which cleanses from all sin, and to 
 entrust our prayers and our duties, disordered and 
 imperfect at best, into his hands, that he may min- 
 gle them with the incense of his intercession, and 
 present them with acceptance before God. 
 
 As a people, the most certain means of ensuring 
 lasting prosperity, and of enabling us to transmit, 
 unimpaired to those who shall succeed us, the rich 
 inheritance devolved from our ancestors, will be a 
 speedy return to the spirit and practice of the Gos- 
 pel. We shall ill consult the true interests of rev- 
 elation by disguising its peculiarities, in hope of 
 conciliating the approbation of infidels, and of 
 adapting it more to their taste — a mistaken and dan- 
 gerous policy, by which we run imminent risque of 
 catching their contagion, without imparting the 
 benefit of its truths. Let us not for a moment 
 blench from its mysteries: they are mysteries of 
 godliness; and however much they may surpass 
 human reason, bear the distinct impress of a divine 
 hand. We rejoice that they are mysterious, so far 
 from being ashamed of them on that account; since 
 the principal reason why they are, and must ever 
 continue such; is derived from their elevation, from 
 their unsearchable riches, and undefinable gran- 
 
176 
 
 deur. Ill fine, let us draw our religion and morality 
 entirely from the word of God, without seeking any 
 deeper foundation for our duties than the ivill of the 
 Supreme Being, an implicit and perfect acquies- 
 cence in which is the highest virtue a creature can 
 attain. 
 
 Amidst many unfavourable symptoms of the state 
 of morals amongst us, there are others of a contrary 
 nature. We may hope, infidelity has nearly run 
 its length. In truth, its sophistry, in the eyes of 
 men of sense, has been much discredited by the ab- 
 surdity of its tenets ; and if any have been in dan- 
 ger of being seduced by the talents of its advocates, 
 they have commonly found a sufficient antidote in 
 their lives. — We have learned to prize revelation 
 more than ever, since we have seen the ludicrous 
 mistakes, as well as serious disasters, of those mys- 
 tics of impiety, who choose rather to walk by an in- 
 ternal light, than enjoy the benefit of its illumina- 
 tion. They have edified us much, without intend- 
 ing it : they have had the effect which critics assign 
 as the purpose of the tragic muse,* that of purify- 
 ing the heart by pity and terror. Their zeal has 
 excited an equal degree of ardour in a better cause, 
 and their efforts to extirpate religion have been op- 
 posed by contrary efforts, to diffuse its influence, at 
 
 • Tfw allmion tx, the tragic musk, should have been marked as a quota- 
 tion, though the author knows not with certainty to irhom to ascribe it. He 
 Relieves it fell from t-he elegant pen of an illustrious female, Mrs. Moore. 
 
liome and abroad, to a degree unexampled in mo- 
 dern times. A growing unanimity has prevailed 
 among the good in different parties, who finding a 
 centreof union in the great truths of revelation, and 
 in a solicitude for its interests, are willing to merge 
 their smaller differences in a common cause. The 
 number of the sincerely pious, we trust, is increas- 
 ing among us, whose zeal, so far from suffering 
 abatement from the confidence of infidelity, has 
 glowed with a purer and more steady flame than 
 ever. These are pleasing indications that the pre- 
 sence of the Holy One uf Israel is still in t!ie midst 
 of us. 
 
 How it may please the Ruler of the universe to 
 dispose the destinies of the two most powerful na- 
 tions of the earth, which are at this moment laid 
 in the balance, it is impossible for us with certainty ' 
 to say. — But when we consider how many of his 
 sincere worshippers, how large a portion of his 
 cliurch, together with how rich a fund of wisdom, 
 of talents, and of all those elements of social order 
 which he must approve, are inclosed within the 
 limits of this highly-favoured land, we cannot be- 
 lieve lie intends to give it up a prey to its enemies. 
 Our insular situation is favourable, our resources 
 prodigious, and the preparations which have long 
 been making, apparently every way equal to the 
 danger of the crisis ; but still we would place our 
 ultimate reliance on Him who abases the proud, 
 
 S3 
 
178 
 
 and exalts the lowly. It would be presumption to 
 imagine it in my power to add any thing to those 
 considerations, which have already produced such 
 a general movement in defence of our liberties. 
 The cause speaks for itself: it excites feelings 
 which words are ill able to express ; involving^ 
 every object and motive which can engage the so- 
 licitude, affect the interests, or influence the heart 
 of man. After a series of provocations and injuries, 
 reciprocally sustained and retaliated, the dispute 
 betwixt us and our enemies is brought to a short is- 
 sue : it is no longer which of the two nations shall 
 have the ascendant, but which shall continue a na- 
 tion : it is a struggle for existence, not for empire. It 
 must surely be regarded as a happy circumstance, 
 that the contest did not take this shape at an earlier pe- 
 riod, while many were deceived by certain specious 
 pretences of liberty into a favourable opinion of our 
 enemies' designs. The popular delusion is past ; the 
 most unexampled prodigies of guilt have dispelled it : 
 and, after a series of rapine and cruelty, have torn 
 from every heart the last fibres of mistaken partial- 
 ity. The crimes of those with whom we have to 
 contend, are legible in every part of Europe. 
 There is scarcely a man to be found who is not most 
 perfectly acquainted with the meaning of that free- 
 dom they profess to bestow ; that it is a freedom 
 from the dominion of laws to pass under the yoke 
 of slavery, and from the fear of God to plunge into 
 crimes and impiety; an impious barter of all that is 
 
479 
 
 ^ood for all that is ill, through the utmost range and 
 limits of moral destiny. Nor is it less easy to de- 
 velope the character of onr principal enemy. A 
 man bred in the school of ferocity, amidst the din of 
 arms and the tumult of camps ; his element, war 
 and confusion ; who has changed his religion with 
 his uniform, and has not spared the assassination 
 of his own troops : it is easy to foresee what treat- 
 ment such a man will give to his enemies, should 
 they fall into his power ; to those enemies especial- 
 ly who, saved from the shipwreck of nations, are 
 preserving, as in an ark, the precious remains 
 of civilization and order, and whom, after de- 
 stroying the liberties of every other country, he 
 envies the melancholy distinction of being the only 
 people he has not enslaved. Engaged with such 
 an enemy, no weak hopes of moderation or clemen- 
 cy can tempt us for a moment to relax in our resist- 
 ance to his power, and the only alternative which, 
 remains is, to conquer or to die. 
 
 Hence that unexampled unanimity which distin- 
 guishes the present season. In other wars we have 
 been a divided people : the effect of our external 
 operations has been, in some measure, weakened 
 by intestine^ dissension. When peace has return- 
 ed, tlie breach has widened; while parties have 
 l>een formed on the merits of particular men, or of 
 particular measures. These have all disappeared ; 
 we have buried our mutual animosities in a regard 
 
±80 
 
 to the common safety. The sentiment of self-pre- 
 servation, the first law which nature has impress- 
 ed, has ahsorbed every other feeling ; and the fire 
 of liberty has melted down the discordant senti- 
 ments and minds of the British Empire into one 
 mass, and propelled them in the same direction. 
 Partial interests and feelings are suspended, the 
 spirits of the body are collected at the heart, and 
 we are awaiting with anxiety, but without dismay, 
 the discharge of that mighty tempest which hangs 
 upon the skirts of the horizon, and to which the 
 eyes of Europe, and of the world, are turned in 
 silent and awful expectation. While we feel so- 
 licitude, let us not betray dejection ; nor let us be 
 alarmed at the past successes of our enemy, which 
 are more dangerous to himself than to us, since 
 they have raised him from obscurity to an elevation 
 which has made him giddy, and tempted liim to 
 suppose every thing within his power. The intox- 
 ication of his success is the omen of his fall. What, 
 though he has carried the flames of war throughout 
 Europe, and gathered as a nest the riches of the na- 
 tions, u'hile none peeped, nor muttered, nor moved 
 the wing; he has yet to try his fortune in another 
 field : he has yet to contend on a soil filled with 
 the monuments of freedom, enriched with the blood 
 of its defenders ; with a people who, animated with 
 one soul, and inflamed with one zeal, for their laws 
 and for their prince, are armed in defence of all they 
 hold dear or venerable , their wives, their parents, 
 
181 
 
 their children, the sanctuary of God, and the sepul- 
 chre of their fathers. We will not suppose there is one 
 who will be deterred from exerting himself in such 
 a cause, by a pusillanimous regard to his safety, 
 when he reflects that he has already lived too long 
 who has survived the ruin of his country ; and that 
 he who can enjoy life after such an event, deserves 
 not to have lived at all. It will suflRee us, if our 
 mortal existence, which is at most but a sp;in, be 
 co-extended with that of the nation whiijh i^iive us 
 birth. We will gladly quit the scene, with all 
 that is noble and august, innocent and holy; and 
 instead of wishing to survive the oppression of weak- 
 ness, the violation of beauty, and the extinction of 
 every thing on which the heart can repose, vt'elcome 
 the shades which will hide from our view such 
 horrors. 
 
 From the most ^xed principles of human nature, 
 as well as from the examples of all history, we may 
 be certain, the conquest of this country, should it be 
 permitted to take place, will not terminate in any 
 ordinary catastrophe, in any much less calamitous 
 than utter extermination. Our present elevation 
 will be the exact measure of our future depression, 
 as it w ill measure the fears and jealousies of those 
 who subdue us. While the smallest vestige remains 
 of our former greatness, while any trace or memorial 
 exists of our having been once a flourishing and in- 
 dependent empire, while the nation breathes, they 
 
183 
 
 will be afraid of its recovering its strength, and never 
 think themselves secure of their conquest till our 
 navy is consumed, our wealth dissipated, our com- 
 merce extinguished, every liberal institution abol- 
 ished, our nobles extirpated ; whatever in rank, 
 character, and talents, gives distinction in society, 
 called out and destroyed, and the refuse which re- 
 mains, swept together into a putrifying heap by the 
 besom of destruction. The enemy will not nee4j.to 
 proclaim tis triumph ; it will be felt in the more ex- 
 pressive silence of extended desolation. 
 
 Hecollect for a moment his invasion of Egypt, a 
 country which had never given him the slightest 
 provocation ; a country so remote from the theatre 
 of his crimes, that it probably did not know there 
 was such a man in existence; (happy ignorance, 
 could it have lasted!) but while he was looking 
 around him, like a vulture, perc|jed on an eminence, 
 for objects on which he might gratify his insatiable 
 thirst for rapine, he no sooner beheld the defence- 
 less condition of that unhappy country, than he dart- 
 ed upon it in a moment. In vain did it struggle, 
 flap its wings, and rend the air with its shrieks : the 
 cruel enemy, deaf to its cries, had infixed his talons, 
 and was busy in sucking its blood, when the inter- 
 ference of a superior power forced him to relinquish 
 his prey, and betake himself to flight. Will that 
 vulture, think you, ever forget his disappointment 
 on that occasion, or the numerous wounds, blows. 
 
183 
 
 and concussions, he received in a tenycars struggle? 
 It is impossible. It were folly to expect it. He 
 meditates, no doubt, the deepest revenge. He who 
 saw nothins; in the simple manners and bland lib- 
 erties of the Swiss to engage his forbearance : noth- 
 ing in proclaiming hiQiself a Mahometan to revolt 
 his conscience; nothing in the condition of defence- 
 less prisoners to excite his pity, nor in that of the 
 companions of his warfare, sick and wounded in a 
 foreign land, to prevent him from dispatching them 
 by poison, will treat in a manner worthy of the im- 
 piety and inhumanity of Isis character, a nation 
 which he naturally dislikes as being free, dreads as 
 the rivals of his power, and abhors as the authors of 
 his disgrace. 
 
 Though these are undoubted truths, and ought to 
 be seriously considered, yet I would rather choose 
 to appeal to sentiments more elevated than such 
 topics can inspire. To form an adequate idea of the 
 duties of this crisis, it will be necessary to raise your 
 minds to a level with our station, to extend your 
 views to a distant futurity, and to consequences the 
 most certain, though most remote. By a series of 
 criminal enterprises, by the success of guilty ambi- 
 tion, the liberties of Europe have been gradually 
 extinguished: the subjugation of Holland, Switzer- 
 land, and the free towns of Germany, has com- 
 pleted that catrastrophe ; and we are the only peo- 
 ple in the eastern hemisphere, who are in posses- 
 
184 
 
 slon of equal laws and a free constitution. Free- 
 dom, driven from every spot on the continent, hag 
 sought an asylum in a country which she always 
 chose for her favourite abode : but she is pursued 
 even here, and threatened with destruction. The 
 inundation of lawless power, after covering the 
 whole earth, threatens to follow us here ; and we 
 are most exactly, most critically placed in the only 
 aperture where it can be successfully repelled ; in 
 the Thermopylae of the universe. As far as the in- 
 terests of freedom are concerned, the most impor- 
 tant by far of sublunary interests, you my country- 
 men, standinthe capacity of the foederal representa- 
 tives of the human race ; for in you it is to deter- 
 mine (under God) in what condition the latest 
 posterity shall be born ; their fortunes are entrusted 
 to your hand, and on your conduct, at this moment, 
 depends the colour and complexion of their destiny. 
 If liberty, after being extinguished on the continent, 
 is suffered to expire here, whence is it ever to 
 emerge in the midst of that thick night that will 
 invest it ? It remains with you, then, to decide, 
 whether that freedom, at whose voice the 
 kingdoms of Europe awoke from the sleep 
 of ages, to run a career of virtuous emulation in 
 every tiling great and good : the freedom which 
 dispelled the mists of superstition, and invited the 
 nations to behold their God ; whose magic touch 
 kindled the rays of genius, the enthusiasm of po- 
 etry, and the flame of eloquence : the freedom which 
 
185 
 
 poured into our lap opulence and arts, and embel- 
 lished life with innumerable institutions and im- 
 provements, till it became a theatre of wonders ; it 
 is for you to decide whether this freedom shall yet 
 survive, or be covered with a funeral pall and wrapt 
 in eternal gloom. It is not necessary to await your 
 determination. In the solicitude you feel to approve 
 yourselves worthy of such a trust, every thought of 
 what is afflicting in warfare, every apprehension 
 of danger must vanish, and you are impatient 
 to mingle iu the battle of the civilized world. 
 Go, then, ye defenders of your country, accompani- 
 ed with every auspicious oraen ; advance with alac- 
 rity into the field, wliere God himself musters the 
 hosts to war. Religion is too much interested in 
 your success not to lend you her aid. She will 
 shed over this enterprise her selectest influence. 
 While you are engaged in the field, many will re- 
 pair to the closet, many to the sanctuary ; the faith- 
 ful of every name will employ that prayer which 
 has power with God ; the feeble hands which are 
 unequal to any other weapon, will grasp the sword 
 of the spirit ; and from myriads of humble and con- 
 trite hearts, the voice of intercession, supplication, 
 and weeping, will mingle in its ascent to heaven 
 with the shouts of battle and the shock of arms. 
 
 While you have every thing to fear from the suc- 
 cess of the enemy, you have every means of pre- 
 venting that success ; so that it is next to impossi- 
 
 S4 
 
186 
 
 ble for victory not to crown your exertions. The 
 extent of your resources, under God, are equal to 
 the justice of your cause. But should Providence 
 determine otherwise, should you fall in the strug- 
 gle, should the nation fall, you will have the satis- 
 faction (the purest allotted to man) of having per- 
 formed your part; virtue will atone for the out- 
 rages of fortune, by conducting you to immortality : 
 your names will be enrolled with the most illustri- 
 ous dead ; while posterity to the end of time, as of- 
 ten as they revolve the events of this period, and 
 they will incessantly revolve them, will turn to 
 you a reverential eye, while they mourn over the 
 freedom which is entombed in your sepulchre. I 
 cannot but imagine the virtuous heroes, legisla- 
 tors, and patriots of every age and country, are 
 bending from their elevated seats to witness this 
 contest, as if they were incapable, till it be brought 
 to a favourable issue, of enjoying their eternal re- 
 pose. Enjoy that repose, illustrious immortals ! 
 your mantle fell when you ascended; and thous- 
 ands, inflamed with your spirit, and impatient to 
 tread in your steps, are ready to swear by Him that 
 sitteth upon the throne, and livethfor ever and ever, 
 they will protect freedom in her last asylum, and 
 never desert that cause which you sustained by 
 your labours, and cemented with your blood. And 
 thou, sole Ruler among the ehihlren of men, to 
 whom the shields of the earth belong, gird on thy 
 sirord, thou Most Mighty: go forth w ith our hosts in 
 
187 
 
 the day of battle. Impart, in additiou to their he- 
 reditary valour, that confidence of success which 
 springs from thy {Presence : pour into their hearts 
 the spirit of departed heroes : inspire them with 
 thine own ; and, while led by thine hand, and fight- 
 ing under thy banners, open thou their eyes to be- 
 hold in every valley, and in every plain, what the 
 prophet beheld by the same illumination, chariots 
 of fire and horses of fire. Then shall the strong man 
 he as tow, and the maker of it as a sparky and they 
 shall both burn together, and none shall quench 
 them. 
 
I 
 
THE 
 
 •Advantages of Knowledge to the Lower Classes, 
 
 SERMON, 
 
 PREACHED AT 
 
 HERVEYLANE, LEICESTER, 
 
 FOB THE BENEFIT OV 
 
 •3 SUjyjDAF SCHOOL. 
 
 BY ROBERT HALL, A. M. 
 
 FROM THE LATEST LONDON EDITION. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 TO attempt to disarm the severity of criticism by hu- 
 miliation or enti'eaty, would be a hopeless task. Waving 
 every apology, the Author, therefore, bas only to remark, 
 that the motives of a v/riter must ever remain a secret, 
 but the kndency of what he writes, is capable of being as- 
 certained j and is in reality the only consideration in 
 whicii the public are interested. The Author is concerned 
 at an unexpected coincidence in the text, betwixt this and 
 a very excellent discourse, delivered on a similar occasion, 
 and published by his much esteemed friend, the Rev. Fran- 
 cis Coxe. The coincidence was entirely accidental, and 
 the text in each instance being employed very much in tho 
 manner of a motto, it is hoped the train of thought will 
 be found sufficiently distinct. He cannot conclude with- 
 out recommending to the public, and to the young espe- 
 cially, the serious perusal of the above mentioned animated 
 and impressive discourse. 
 
The Advantages of Knowledge to the Lower 
 Classes. 
 
 SERMON, 
 
 &c. &c. 
 
 PROVERBS, XIX. 2. 
 
 THAT THE HEART BE WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE, IT IS NOT 
 
 GOOD. 
 
 1 HROUGHouT cvery part of this book, the author 
 is copious and even profuse in the praises of know- 
 ledge. To stimulate to the acquisition of it, and 
 to assist in the pursuit, is the professed design with 
 which it was penned. To know wisdom and in- 
 struction ; to perceive the words of understanding ; 
 to receive the instruction of wisdom, justice, and 
 judgment, and equity ; to give subtlety to the sim- 
 ple, to the young man knowledge and discretion. 
 
 Though it is evident from many passages, that 
 in the encomiums to which we have referred, the 
 author had principally in view divine knowledge, 
 yet from other parts it is erjually certain he by no 
 means intended to exclude from these commenda- 
 tions, knowledge in general; and as we propose 
 this afternoon to recommend to your attention the 
 
 g0 
 
194 
 
 Sahbath-day School established in this place, a fevr 
 reflections on the utility of knowledge at large, and 
 of religious knowledge in particular, will not be 
 deemed unseasonable. 
 
 1. Let me request your attention to a few re- 
 marks on the utilily of knowledge in general. It 
 must strike us, in the first place, that the extent to 
 which we have the faculty of acquiring it, forms the 
 most obvious distinction of our species. In inferior 
 animals, it subsists in so small a degree, that we 
 are wont to deny it to them altogether, the range of 
 their knowledge, if it deserve the name, is so ex- 
 tremely limited, and their ideas so few and simple. 
 Whatever is most exquisite in their operations, is 
 referred to an instinct, which working within a nar- 
 row compass, though with undeviating uniformity, 
 supplies the place, and supersedes the necessity of 
 reason. In inferior animals, the knowledge of the 
 whole species is possessed by each individual of 
 the species, while man is distinguished by number- 
 less diversities in the scale of mental improvement. 
 Now to be destitute in a remarkable degree of an 
 acquisition w hich forms the appropriate possession 
 of human nature, is degrading to that nature, and 
 must proportionably disqualify it for reaching the 
 end of its creation. 
 
 As the power of acquiring knowledge is to be 
 ascribed to reason, so the attainment of it miglitily 
 
195 
 
 strengthens and improves it, and thereby enables 
 it to enrich itself with further acquisitions. Know- 
 ledge in general expands the mind, exalts the 
 faculties, refines the taste of pleasure, and opens 
 innumerable sources of intellectual enjoyment. By 
 means of it, we become less dependent for satisfac- 
 tion upon tlie sensative appetites, the gross plea- 
 sures of sense are more easily despised, and we 
 are made to feel the superiority of the spiritual to 
 the material part of our nature. Instead of being 
 continually solicited by the influence and irritation 
 of sensible objects, the mind can retire within her- 
 self, and expatiate in the cool and quiet walks of 
 contemplation. The author of nature has wisely 
 annexed a pleasure to the exercise of our active 
 powers, and particularly to the pursuit of truth, 
 which if it be in some instances less intense, is far 
 more durable than the gratifications of sense, and is 
 on that account incomparably more valuable. Its 
 duration, to say nothing of its other properties, ren- 
 ders it more valuable. It may be repeated without 
 satiety, and pleases afresh on every reflection npon 
 it. These are self-created satisfactions, always 
 within our reach, not dependent upon events, not 
 requiring a peculiar combination of circumstances 
 to produce or maintain them, they rise from tiie 
 mind itself, and inhere, so to speak, in its very suit- 
 stance. Let the mind but relain its proper func- 
 tions, and they spring up spontaneously, unsoli- 
 cited, unborrowed, and unbought. ¥j\va\ the diffi- 
 
196 
 
 culties and impediments which obstriict the pursuit 
 of truth, serve, according to the economy under 
 which we are placed, to render it more interesting. 
 The labour of intellectual search, resembles and 
 exceeds the tumultuous pleasures of the chase, and 
 the consciousness of overcoming a formidable obsta- 
 cle, or of lighting on some happy discovery, gives 
 all the enjoyment of a conquest, without those cor- 
 roding reflections by which the latter must be im- 
 paired. Can we doubt that Archimedes, who was 
 so absorbed in his contemplations as not to be di- 
 verted by the sacking of his native city, and was 
 killed in the very act of meditating a mathematical 
 theorem, did not when he exclaimed iv^>ix.ce.^. sv^axecl^ 
 feel a transport as genuine as was ever experienced 
 after the most brilliant victory ? 
 
 But to return to the moral good which results 
 from the acquisition of knowledge ; it is chiefly this, 
 that by multiplying the mental resources, it has a 
 tendency to exalt the character, and, in some 
 measure, to correct and subdue the taste for gross 
 sensuality. It enables the possessor to beguile his 
 leisure moments (and every man has such) in an 
 innocent at least, if not in a useful manner. The 
 poor man who can read, and who possesses a taste 
 for reading, can find entertainment at home, without 
 being tempted to repair to the public-house for that 
 
 • I have found it ! I have found it J 
 
197 
 
 purpose. His mind can find him employment wlien 
 his body is at rest; he does not lie prostrate and 
 afloat on tlie current of incidents, liable to 
 be carried whithersoever the impulse of appetite 
 may direct. There is in the mind of such a man 
 an intellectual spring urj^ing him to the pursuit of 
 mental s,ooi\ ; and if the minds of his family also are 
 a little cultivated, conversation becomes the more in- 
 teresting, and the sphere of domestic enjoyment 
 enlarged. The calm satisfaction which books 
 afford, puts him into a disposition to relish more 
 exquisitely, the tranquil delight inseparable from 
 the indulgence of conjugal and parental affection ; 
 and as he will be more respectable in the eyes of 
 his family than he who can teach them nothing, 
 he will be naturally induced to cultivate what 
 ever may preserve, and shun whatever would 
 impair that respect. He who is inured to re- 
 flection will carry his views beyond the present 
 hour ; he will extend his prospect a little into futu- 
 rity, and be disposed to make some provision for 
 his approaching wants ; whence will result an in- 
 creased motive to industry, together with a caie to 
 husband his earnings, and to avoid unnecessary 
 expense. The poor man who has gained a tasle 
 for good books, will in all likelihood become 
 thoughtful, and wlsen you h.ave given the poor a 
 habit of thinking, you have conferred on them a 
 much greater favour than by the gift of a large sum 
 
198 
 
 of money, since you have put them in possesion of 
 the jprinciple of all legitimate prosperity. 
 
 I am persuaded that tl^e extreme profligacy, im- 
 providence, and misery, which are so prevalent 
 among the labouring classes in many countries, are 
 chiefly to be ascribed to the want of education. In 
 proof of this we need only cast our eyes on the con- 
 dition of the Irish, compared with that of the peas- 
 antry in Scotland. Among the former you behold 
 nothing but beggary, wretchedness, and sloth : in 
 S^^otlaud, on tlie contrary under the disadvantages 
 of a worse climate and more unproductive soil, a 
 degree of decency and comfort, the fruit of sobriety 
 and industry, are conspicuous among the lower 
 classes. And to m hat is this disparity in their situa- 
 tiv>n to be ascribed, except to the influence of educa- 
 tion ? In Ireland, the education of the poor is 
 miserably neglected, very few of them can read, 
 and they grow up in a total ignorance of what it 
 most befits a rational creature to understand ; 
 while in Scotland the establishment of free-schools 
 in every parisli, an essential branch of the ecclesi- 
 astical constitution of the country, brings the means 
 of instruction within the reach of the poorest, who 
 are there inured to decency, industry, and order. 
 
 Some have objected to the instruction of the lower 
 classes, from an apprehension that it would lift tiicm 
 above their sphere, make them dissatisfied with their 
 
199 
 
 station in life, and by impairiisg the habit of subordi- 
 nation, endanger the tranquillity of the state; an ob- 
 jection devoid surely of all force and validity. It 
 is not easy to conceive in what manner instructing 
 men in their duties can prompt them to neglect 
 those duties, or how that enlargement of reason 
 which enables them to comprehend the true grounds 
 of authority and the obligation to obedience, should 
 indispose them to obey. The admirable mecha- 
 nism of society, together with that subordination of 
 ranks whicli is essential to its subsistence, is surely 
 not an elaborate imposture, whicli the exercise of 
 reason will detect and expose. The objection we 
 have stated, implies a reflection on the social order, 
 equally impolitic, invidious, and unjust. Nothing 
 iu reality renders legitimate government so insecure 
 as extreme ignorance in the people.. It is this which 
 yields them an easy prey to seduction, makes them 
 the victims of prejudice and false alarms, and so fe- 
 rocious withal, that their interference in atimeof pub- 
 lie commotion, is more to be dreaded than the erup- 
 tion of a volcano. 
 
 The true prop of good government is opinion, the 
 perception on t!)e part of tlie subject of benefits re- 
 sulting from it, a settled conviction, in other words, 
 of its being a public good. Now nothing can pro- 
 duce or maintain that opinion but knowledge, since 
 opinion is a form of knowledge. Of tyrannical and 
 unlawful governments, indeed, the support is fear. 
 
soo 
 
 to which ignorance is as congenial as it is abhor- 
 rent from the genius of a free people. Look at the 
 popular insurrections and massacres in France : of 
 what description of persons were those ruffians com- 
 posed who, breaking forth like a torrent, overwhelm- 
 ed the mounds of lawful authority? Who were 
 the cannibals that sported with the mangled carca- 
 ses and palpitating limbs of their murdered victims, 
 and dragged them about with their teeth in the 
 gardens of the Thuilleries ? Were they refined and 
 elaborated into these barbarities by the efforts of a 
 too polished education? No: they were the very 
 scum of the populace, destitute of all moral culture, 
 whose atrocity was only equalled by their ignorance 
 as might well be expected, when the one was the 
 legitimate parent of the other. Who are the per- 
 sons who, in every country, are most disposed to 
 outrage and violence, but the most ignorant and un- 
 educated of the poor ; to which class also chiefly 
 belong those unhappy beings who are doomed to ex- 
 piate their crimes at the fatal tree ; few of whom, it 
 has recently been ascertained, on accurate enquiry 
 are able to read, and the greater part utterly desti- 
 tute of all moral or religious principle. 
 
 Ignorance gives a sort of eternity to prejudice, 
 and perpetuity to error. When a baleful super- 
 stition, like that of the church of Rome, has once 
 got footing among a people in this situation, it be- 
 comes next to impossible to eradicate it : for it can 
 
1801 
 
 only be assailed, with success, by the weapons of 
 reason anil argument, and to these weapons it is im- 
 passive. The sword of ethereal temper loses its 
 edge, when tried on the scaly hide of this leviathan. 
 No wonder the church of Home is such a fiiend to 
 ignorance ; it is but paying the arrears of gratitude 
 in which she is deeply indebted. How is it possible 
 for !ier not to hate tliat light which would unveil 
 her impostures, and detect her enormities? 
 
 If we survey the genius of Cl^ristianity, we shall 
 find it to be just the reverse. It was ushered into 
 the world with the injunction, go and teach all na- 
 tions, and every step of its progress is to be ascrib- 
 ed t«» instruction. With a condescension worthy of 
 its author, it oiFer'- information to the meanest and 
 most illiterate ; but extreme ignorance is not a sfate 
 of mind favourable to it. The first churches were 
 planted in cities, (and those the most celebrated and 
 enlightene<l) drawn neither from the very highest 
 nor the very lowest classes ; the former too often 
 the victims of luxury and pride, the latter sunk in 
 extreme stupidity ; but from the middle orders, 
 were the largest portion of virtue and good sense 
 has usually resided, wn remote villages, its pro- 
 gress was extremely slow, owing unquestionably to 
 that want of mental cultivation, which rendered 
 them the last retreats of superstition ; inso- 
 much that in the fifth century, the abettors of the 
 ancient idolatry began to be denominated Pagani^ 
 
 S6 
 
S03 
 
 'ivhirli properly denotes the inhabitants of the coun- 
 try; in distinction from those who reside in towns. 
 At the Reformation, the progress of the reformed 
 faith went hand in hand with the advjincement of 
 letters ; it had every where the same friends and 
 the same enemies, and nexl; to its agreement with 
 the Holy Scriptures, its success is chiefly to be 
 ascribed, under God, to the art cf printing, the re- 
 vival of classical learning, and the illustrious pa- 
 trons of science attached to its cause. In the re- 
 presentation of that glorious period, usually styled 
 the Millennium, when religion shall universally 
 prevail, it is mentioned as a conspicuous feature, 
 that men shall run to and fro, and knoicledge shall 
 be increased. That period will not be distinguish- 
 ed from the preceding, by men's mind| being more 
 torpid and inactive, but rather by th^ consecration 
 of every power to the service of the Most High. 
 It will be a period of remarkable illumination, dur- 
 ing which the light of the moon shall be as the light 
 of the sun, and the light of the sun as that of seven 
 days. Every useful talent will be cultivated, every 
 heart subservient to the interests of man, be improved 
 and perfected: learning will amass her stores, and 
 genius emit hei* splendour;, but the former will be 
 displayed without ostentation, and the latter shine 
 with the softened elTulgence of humility and love. 
 
 2. We have hitherto spoken of the advantages 
 of knowledge in general ; we proceed to notice 
 
S03 
 
 tl'.e ulility of religious knowledge m paitieular. 
 Religion, ou aceouiil- of its intimate relation to a 
 future state, is every man's proper business, and 
 should be iiis chief care. Of knowledge in gene- 
 ral, there are branches which it would be prepos- 
 terous iu the bulk of mankind to attempt to acquire, 
 because they have no immediate connection wilii 
 their duliesj, and demand talents which nature has 
 denied, or opportunities which providence has with- 
 held. But with respect to the primary truths of 
 religion, the case is different ; tiiey are of such 
 daily use and necessity, that they form not iiie ma- 
 terials of mental luxury, so properly, as the food 
 of the mind. In improving the character, the in- 
 fluence of general knowledge is often feeble, and 
 always indirect ; of religious knowledj^o the ten- 
 dency to purify the heart is immediate, and forms 
 its professed scope and design. This is life eter- 
 nal to know thee, the only true God and Jesus 
 Christ, whom thou hast sent. To ascertain the 
 character of the supreme Author of all things, to 
 know, as far as we are capable of comprehending 
 such a subject, what is his moral disposition, what 
 the situation we stand in towards him, and the princi- 
 ples by which he conducts his administration, will 
 be allowed by every considerate person to be of th« 
 higiiest consequence. Compari'd to tliis?, all other 
 speculations or inquiries sink into insigniricaucc : 
 because every event that can befal us. in iu his 
 
20^ 
 
 hands, and by his sentence, our final condition 
 must be fixed. To regard such an enquiry with 
 indifference, is the mark not of a noble but of an 
 abject mind, which immersed in sensuality, or 
 amused with trifles, deems itself unworthy of eter- 
 nal life. To be so absorbed in worldly pursuits, 
 as to neglect future prospects, is a conduct that 
 can plead no excuse, until it is ascertained beyond 
 all doubt or contradiction, that there is no hereaf- 
 ter, and that nothing remains but that we eat and 
 drink, for to-morroiv ice die. Even in that case, 
 to forego the hope of immortality without a sigh ; 
 to be gay and sportive on the brink of destruction, 
 in the very moment of relinquishing prospects, on 
 which the wisest and best in every age have de- 
 lighted to dwell, is the indication of a base and 
 degenerate spirit. If existence be a good, the eter- 
 nal loss of it must be a great evil : if it be an evil, 
 reason suggests the propriety of enquiring why it 
 is so, of investigating the maladies by which it is 
 oppressed. Amidst the darkness and uncertainty 
 which hang over our future condition. Revelation, 
 by bringing life and immortality to light, affords the 
 only relief. In the Bible alone we learn the real 
 character of the Supreme Being, his holiness, jus- 
 tice, mercy, and truth, the moral condition of man, 
 considered in iiis relation to Him is clearly pointed 
 out, the doom of impenitent transgressors denounc- 
 ed^ and the method of obtaining mercy, through the 
 
t05 
 
 interposition of a divine Mediator, plainly revealed. 
 There are two considerations which may suffice to 
 evince the indispensa1)le necessity of scriptural 
 knowledge. 
 
 I. The Scriptures contain an authentic discovery 
 of the way of salvation They are a revelation of 
 mercy to a lost world ; a reply to that most inter- 
 esting enquiry, what we mm^t do to be saved. The 
 distin2;uishin2; feature of the Grospel system, is the 
 economy of redemption, or thp gracious provision 
 the Supreme Being has thought fit to make for re- 
 conciling the world to himself, by the manifestation 
 in human nature of his own Son. It is this which 
 constitutes it the Gospel, by way of eminence, or the 
 glad tidings concerning our Saviour Jesus Christ, 
 on the right reception of which, orits rejection, turns 
 our everlasting weal or woe. It is not from the 
 character of God as our creator, it should be remem- 
 bered, that the hope of the guilty can arise ; the 
 fullest devclopement of his essential perfections 
 could afford no relief in this case, and therefore 
 natural religion, were it capable of being carried to 
 the utmost perfection, can never supersede the ne- 
 cessity of revealed. To inspire confidence, an ex- 
 press communication from heaven is necessary : since 
 the introduction of sin has produced a peculiarity in 
 our situation, and a perplexity in our prospects, 
 which nothing but an express assurance of mercy 
 can remove. 
 
S06 
 
 In v.'l)at manner, the blessed and only Potentate, 
 may ihiuk fit to dispose of a race of apostates, is 
 a question on which reason can suggest nothing 
 feaiisfactory, nothing salutary : a question, in the 
 solution of which, there being no data to proceed 
 ni^ion, wisdom and folly show alike, and every order 
 rlinl^ellect is reduced to a level, for icho hath known 
 ike viind of the Lord, or heing his counsellor hath 
 taught him. It is a secret wliich, had he not been 
 pleased to unfold it, must have for ever remained 
 in the breast of the Deity. This secret, in infinite 
 iiier.,'y he has condescended to disclose : the silence, 
 irot that which John witnessed in the Apocalypse, 
 of bf'lf an hour, but that of ages, is broken, the 
 e jrkness is past, and we behold, in the Gospel, the 
 astonishing spectacle of God in Christ reconciling 
 the icorld unto himself, not imputing to them their 
 trespasses, and sending forth his ambassadors to 
 intreat us in Christ's stead to be reconciled to God. 
 To that strange insensibility with respect to the 
 concerns of a future world, which is at once the in- 
 dication and conseqnence of the fall, must we 
 ascribe the languid attention, with which this com- 
 munication is received, instead of producing, as it 
 ought, transports of gratitude and joy in every 
 breast. 
 
 This, however we may be disposed to regard it, 
 is unquestionably the grand peculiarity of the Gos- 
 pel, the exclusive boast and treasure of the Scrip- 
 
S07 
 
 tures, and most pmpliatieally the way of salvation, 
 not only as it reveals the gracious intentions of God 
 to a sinful world, but as it lays a solid foundation 
 for the supernatural duties of faith and repentance. 
 All the discoveries of the Gospel, bear a most in- 
 timate relation to the character and offices of the 
 Saviour ; from liim they emanate, in him they 
 centre ; nor is any thing we learn from the Old or 
 New Testament of saving tendency, further than 
 as a part of the truth as it is in Jpsiis. The ne2;lcct 
 of considering revelation in this light, is a fruitful 
 source of infidelity. Viewing it in no higher char- 
 acter than a republication of the law of nature, 
 men are first led to doubt the importance, and next 
 the truth of the discoveries it contains ; an easy and 
 natural transition, sin-ce the question of their impor- 
 tance, is so complicated with that of their truth, in 
 the Scriptures themselves, that the most refined in- 
 genuity cannot long keep them separate. It gives 
 the kiioicledge of salvation by the remission ofsins^ 
 through the tender mercy of our God, whereby the 
 day-spring from on high hath visited us, to give 
 light to them that sit in darkness and the shadow of 
 death, to guide our feet into the wry of peace. While 
 we contemplate it under this its true character, we 
 view it in its just dimensions, .lud feel no inclina- 
 tion to extenuate the f.;rce (?f those representations 
 which are expressive of its pre-eminent dignity. 
 There is nothing will be allowed to come into com- 
 parison with it, nothing we sliall ?iot be ready to 
 
SOS 
 
 sacrifice for a participation of its blessings, and the 
 cxiehsiou of its iniiiience The veneration we shall 
 fee! forliie Ii;b1e. as the depository of saving know- 
 ledge, will be totally distinct, not only from what we 
 attach to any other book, but from that admiration 
 its other properties inspire ; and the variety and 
 antiquity of its history, the light it affords in various 
 researches, its inimitable touches of nature, together 
 with the sublimity and beauty so copiously poured 
 over its pages, will be deemed subsidiary orna- 
 ments, the embellishments of the casket, which 
 contains the pearl of great price. 
 
 S. Scriptural knowledge is of inestimable value 
 on account of its supplying an infallable rule of life. 
 To the most untutored mind, the information it af- 
 fords on this subject, is far more full and precise 
 than the highest efforts of reason could attain. In 
 the best moral precepts issuing from human wisdom, 
 there is an incurable defect in that want of authori- 
 ty which robs them of their power over the con- 
 science ; they are obligatory no farther than their 
 reason is perceived, a deduction of proofs is neces- 
 sary, more or less intricate and uncertain, and even 
 when clearest, it is still but the language of man, to 
 man, respectable as sage advice, but wanting the 
 force and authority of law. In a well-attested reve- 
 lation, it is the Judge speaking from the tribunal, 
 the supreme Legislator promulging and interpreting 
 his own laws. With what force and conviction, do 
 
those Apostles and Prophets address us, whose mi- 
 raculous powers attest them to be the servants of the 
 Most High, tlio immediate organs of the Deity! As 
 the morality of the Gospel is more pure and com- 
 prehensive than was ever inculcated before, so the 
 consideration of its divine origination, invests it 
 with an energy, of which every system not express- 
 ly founded upon it, is entirely devoid. We turn at 
 our peril from him who speaketh to us from heaven. 
 
 Of an accountable creature, duty is the concern 
 of every moment, since he is every moment pleasing 
 or displeasing God. It is a universal element, 
 mingling with every action, and qualifying every 
 disposition and pursuit. The moral quality of con- 
 duct, as it serves both to ascertain and to form the 
 character, has consequences in a future world, so 
 certain and infallible, that it is represented in Scrip, 
 ture, as a seed, no part of which is lost, for 2vhat- 
 $oever a man soweth, that also shall he reap. That 
 rectitude which the inspired writers usually denom- 
 inate holiness, is the health and beauty of the soul, 
 capable of bestowing dignity in the absence of every 
 other accomplishment, while the want of it leaves 
 the possessor of the richest intellectual endowments 
 a painted sepulchre. Hence results the indispensa- 
 ble iiGiessity, to every description of persons, of 
 sound religious instruction, and of an intimate ac- 
 quaintance with the Scriptures as its gfuuine 
 source. 
 
 37 
 
SIO 
 
 It must be confessed, from melanelioly experi- 
 ence, that a speculative acquaintance with the rules 
 of duty, is too compatible with the violation of it« 
 dictates, and that it is possible for the convictions 
 of conscience to be habitually overpowered by the 
 corrupt suggestions of appetite. To see distinctly 
 the right way, and to pursue it, are not precisely 
 the same thing. Still, nothing in the order of means 
 promises so much success as the diligent inculcation 
 of revealed truth. He who is acquainted with the 
 terrors of the Lord, cannot live in the neglect of 
 God and religion with present any more than with 
 future impunity ; the path of disobedience is obstruc- 
 ted, if not rendered impassible, and wherever h* 
 turns his eyes he beholds the sword of divine justice 
 stretched out to intercept his passage. Guilt will 
 be appalled, conscience alarmed, and the fruits of 
 unlavs ful gratification embittered to his taste. 
 
 It is surely desirable to place as many obstacles 
 as possible in the path to ruin : to take care that the 
 image of death shall meet the offender at every turn, 
 that he shall not be able to persist without treading 
 upon briars and scorpions, without forcing his way 
 through obstructions more formidable than he can 
 expect to meet with in a contrary course. If you can 
 enlist the nobler part of his nature under the banners 
 of virtue, set him at war with himself, and subject 
 him to the necessity, should he persevere, of stifling 
 and overcoming whatever is most characteristic of a 
 reasonable creature, you hav« done what will pro- 
 
Sll 
 
 bably not be unproductive of advantage. If he is at 
 the same time reminded, by his acquaintance with 
 the word of God, of a better state of mind being at- 
 tainable, a better destiny reserved, provided they 
 are willing and obedient, for the children of men, 
 there is room to hope that wearied^ to speak in the 
 language of the prophet, in the greatness of his way, 
 he will bethink himself of the true refuge, and im- 
 plore the spirit of grace to aid his weakness, and 
 subdue his corruptions. Sound religious instruc- 
 tion is a perpetual counterpoise to the force of depra- 
 vity. The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the 
 soul ; the testimony of the Lord is sure, making 
 zvise the simjile ; the commandment of the Lord is 
 pure, enlightening the eyes ; the fear of the Lord is 
 clean, enduring for ever ; the judgments of the 
 Lord are true, and righteous altogether. 
 
 While we insist on the absolute necessity of an 
 accpiaintance with the word of God, we are e(]ually 
 convinced it is but an instrument, which like every 
 other, requires a hand to wield it, and that important 
 as it is in the order of means, the spirit of Christ 
 only can make it ciTectual, which ought therefore to 
 be earnestly and incessantly implored for that pur- 
 pose. Ojjen mine eyes, saith the Psalmist, and I 
 shall behold wonderful things out of thy law, AV'e 
 trust it will be your care who have the conduct of 
 the School we are recommending to the patronage 
 of this audience, lo impress on these children a duep 
 
SIS 
 
 conviction of their radical corruption, and of the ne- 
 cessity of the agency of the spirit, to render the 
 knowledge they acquire, practical and experimen- 
 tal. In the morning sow your seed^ in the evening 
 withhold not your hand ; but remember that neither 
 he that soiveth, nor he that water eth, is any thing, it 
 is God that giveth the increase. Be not satisfied 
 with making them read a lesson, or repeat a prayer. 
 By every thing tender and solemn in religion, hy a 
 due admixture of the awful considerations drawn 
 from the prospect of death and judgment, with 
 others of a more pleasing nature, aim to fix serious 
 impressions on their hearts. Aim to produce a re- 
 ligious concern, carefully watch its progress, and 
 endeavour to conduct it to a prosperous issue. 
 Lead them to the footstool of the Saviour, teach 
 them to rely, as guilty creatures, on his merits 
 alone, and to commit their eternal interests entire- 
 ly into his hands. Let the salvation of these chil- 
 dren be the object, to which every word of your in- 
 structions, every exertion of your authority, is di- 
 rected. Despise the profane clamour, which would 
 deter you from attempting to render them serious, 
 from an apprehension of its making them melan- 
 choly, not doubting for a moment, that the fear 
 of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and that 
 the path to true happiness lies through purity, hu- 
 mility, and devotion. Meditate the worth of souls : 
 meditate deeply the lessons the Scriptures afford on 
 their inconceivable value and eternal duration. 
 
213 
 
 While the philosopher wearies himself with end- 
 less speculations on their physical properties and 
 nature, while the politician only contemplates the 
 social arrangements of mankind and the shifting 
 forms of policy, fix ijour attention on the individual 
 importance of man, as the creature of God, and a 
 candidate for immortality. Let it be your highest 
 ambition to train up these children for an unchang- 
 ing condition of being. Spare no pains to recover 
 them to the image of God ; render familiar to their 
 minds, in all its extent, the various branches of that 
 hgl'iness, without which none shall see tJie Lord. 
 Incu^lcate the obligation, and endeavour to inspire 
 the love of that rectitude, that eternal rectitude, 
 which T^^ with God before time began, was em- 
 bodied in the person of liis Son, and in its lower com- 
 munications, will survive every sublunary change, 
 emerge in the dissolution of all things, and be im- 
 pressed, in refulgent characters, on the new heavens 
 and the new earth, in ivhich dwelleth righteousness. 
 Pray often with them, and for them, and remind 
 them of the inconceivable advantages attached to 
 that exercise. Accustom them to a punctual and 
 reverential attendance at the house of God : insist 
 on their sanctiiication of the Sabbath, by such a dis- 
 posal of time, as is suitable to a day of rest and de- 
 votion. Survey them with a vigilant and tender 
 eye, checking every appearance of an evil and de- 
 praved disposition the moment it springs up, and 
 encouraging ttie dawn of piety and virtue. By thus 
 
314 
 
 training them up in the waythey should go ^ yon may 
 reason a]^y hop& that when old, they will not depart 
 from it. ^ 
 
 JWe congratulate the nation, on the extent of the 
 XeJOFortgieinployeil, and ^g means set on foot, for 
 ^the fmp^vementyof tln^j^er classes, and especi- 
 , ally the ci^iWriBn of the poor, in moral and religious 
 kno\vledge^^^^\ whi(^ we hope much ;good will 
 
 parties concern^_, but to the 
 hese are the lj|^iiest, or ra- 
 ents that can ^fe adopted, 
 pulace ; ai 
 11 m tliel^ure, IB which s 
 yramid, it is oiij^mem it^ 
 chiefly depends: the elaborate on^^uit mthe 
 willlbe a w retched compensation for 
 solidity in the lower parts of the structure. These 
 are not the times, in which it is safe for a nation 
 to repose on the lap of ignorance. If there ever 
 were a season, when public tranquillity was en- 
 sured by the absence of knowledge, that season is 
 past. The convulsed state of the world will not 
 permit unthinking stupidity to sleep, without being 
 appalled by phantoms, and shaken by terrors, tu 
 "which reason, which defines her objects and limits 
 her apprehensions, by the reality of things, is a 
 stranger. Every thing in the condition of mankind, 
 announces the approach of some great crisis, for 
 which nothing can prepare us but the diffusion of 
 
S15 
 
 knowledge, probity, and the fear of the Lord. 
 While the world i;^ impelled, with such violence, 
 in opposite directions ; while a spirit of s;iddiness 
 and rajiolt is shed upon the nations, and the seeds 
 of mutation are so thickly sown, the improvement 
 of the mass of the people will he our grand security, 
 in the neglect of whicli the politeness, the refine- 
 ment, and the knowledge accumulated in the higher 
 orders, weak and unprotected, will be exposed to 
 imminent danger, and perish like a garland in the 
 grasp of popular fury. Wisdom and knowledge 
 shall be the stability of thy times, and strength of 
 salvation^ the fear of the Lord is his treasure. 
 
On the Discouragements and supports of th» 
 Christian Ministry^ 
 
 DISCOURSE, 
 
 DELIVERED TO THE 
 
 REV. JAMES ROBERTSON, 
 
 AT 
 
 HIS ORDINATION 
 
 OVER THE INDEPENDENT CHURCH, AT STRETTON, 
 
 WARWICKSHIRE. 
 
 BY ROBERT HALL, A. M. 
 
 FROM THE LATEST LONDON EDITION. 
 
 2S 
 
WITH SENTIMENTS OF THE HIGHEST ESTEEM, 
 
 THE FOLLOWINO 
 
 DISCOURSE, 
 
 DELIVERED AT HIS REQUEST, 
 
 IS IVSCRIBEn TO 
 
 THE REV. JAMES ROBERTSON, 
 
 BY HIS 
 
 AFFECTIONATE FRIEND 
 AND BROTHER, 
 
 THE .UTTffOn. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The following Discourse would sooner have 
 made its appearance, but for circumstances in which 
 the Public arc too little interested, to render it 
 necessary or proper for me to explain them : nor 
 should I have adverted to the time of its publica- 
 tion, did it not seem strange that, having been 
 preached on a public occasion, it should be com- 
 mitted to the press more than a twelve month after 
 the delivery. 
 
 With respect to the Sermon itself, the author 
 begs leave to bespeak the indulgence of his readers 
 for introducing sentiments with which they must 
 be perfectly familiar, requesting them to recollect 
 that, on practical subjects, the most common thoughts 
 are usually the most important, and that originality 
 is the last quality we seek for in advice. If it 
 have any tendency to do good beyond the occasion 
 of its delivery, by remindiug my highly-esteemed 
 brethren in the ministry, of the duties and obliga- 
 tion attached to their sacred function, the end pro- 
 posed will be answered. The worthy person to 
 whom it was addressed, gave a specimen of hi« 
 
SSS PREFACE. 
 
 liberality, in engaging me to take so leading a part 
 in his ordination, Avhen our difference of sentiment 
 on the subject of Baptism was well known ; a sub- 
 ject which has, unhappily, been a frequent occa- 
 sion of alienating the minds of Christians from each 
 other. How much is it to be lamented, that the 
 Christian world should be so violently agitated by 
 disputes, and divided into factions, on points, which, 
 it is allowed, in whatever way they are decided, 
 do not enter into the essentials of Christianity. 
 When will the time arrive, when the disciples of 
 Christ shall cordially join hand and heart with all 
 who hold the head, and no other terms of communion 
 be insisted upon in any church, but what are ne- 
 cessary to constitute a real Christian. The depar- 
 ture from a principle so directly resulting from the 
 genius of Christianity, and so evidently inculcated 
 and implied in the sacred Scriptures, has, in my 
 apprehension, been productive of infinite mischief ; 
 nor is there room to anticipate the period of the 
 universal diffusion and triumph of the Christian re- 
 ligion, but in consequence of its being completely 
 renounced and abandoned. 
 
 What can be more repugnant to the beautiful idea 
 which our Saviour gives us of his church, as one 
 fold under one shepherd, than the present aspect of 
 Christendom, split into separate and hostile com- 
 munions, frowning defiance on each other, where 
 each erects itself upon j^arty principleSf and selects 
 
PREFACE. 833 
 
 its respective watcli-woid of contention, as though 
 the epithet of militant, when applied to tlie church, 
 were designed to announce, not a state of conflict 
 with the powers of darkness, but of irreconcileable 
 intestine warfare and opposition. But it is necessa- 
 ry to quit a subject which, though painfully inter- 
 esting, would necessarily lead to reflections incon- 
 sistent with the limits of this preface. It may be 
 more to the purpose to remark, that the substance 
 of the following discourse was delivered in London, 
 at the anniversary of an academical institution, re- 
 cently established in the neighbourhood of that me- 
 tropolis, for educating young men for the ministry 
 in the Baptist denomination. The institution to 
 which we refer, is under the immediate superin- 
 tendance of the Rev. William Newman, I cannot 
 let the present occasion pass, of earnestly and re- 
 spectfully recommending this infant seminary to the 
 patronage of the religious Pulilic. There was a 
 time, we are aware, when doubts were entertained, 
 in some serious mind^, of the elegibilily of training 
 young men for the ministry, by a prepat'atory course 
 of study. These scruples, we believe, have long 
 since subsided, and a conviction felt by intelligent 
 men of all denominations, of the expedience, if not 
 the necessity, of instructing candidates for the min- 
 istry in the principles of science and literature. 
 Learning is no longer dreaded as tlie enemy of 
 piety ; nor is it supposed that the orthodoxy of 
 a public teacher of religion derives any security 
 
S24 PREFACE. 
 
 from his professed ignorance on every other subject. 
 Along with this revolution in the sentiments of a cer- 
 tain class of Christians, circumstances have arisen, 
 connected with the more general diffusion of know- 
 ledge and the state of society, which render a higher 
 degree of mental cultivation than was heretofore 
 needed, indispensably requisite. The Baptist de- 
 nomination, in common with other Christians, have 
 not failed to advert to this urgent and increasing 
 demand for cultivated talent in their ministers, al- 
 though they have long had occasion to lament the 
 scantiness and inadequacy of their means of supply- 
 ing it. To the Bristol Academy, the only seminary 
 they possessed till within these few years, they feel 
 the highest obligations, for supplying them with a 
 succession of able and faithful pastors, who have 
 done honour to their ciiurches : and few things 
 would give the patrons and founders of the 
 seminary, for which I am pleading, more con- 
 cern, than the suspicion of entertaining views 
 unfavourable to that academy. They respect 
 its claim of seniority ; they revere the character of 
 its excellent President ; they contemplate, with the 
 highest satisfaction, the beneficial result of its ope- 
 rations, conspicuous in most partsof the kingdom : — 
 but tliey are too well acquainted with the disinter- 
 ested motives of its friends and benefactors, to sus- 
 pect them of wishing to monopolize the education of 
 ministers connected with the denomination. They 
 feel as little jealousy of the seminary recently es- 
 
PREFACE. 225 
 
 established in Yorkshire, which has already pro- 
 duced good fruitg, under the culture and superin- 
 tendance of the excellent Mr. Steadman. Con- 
 vinced, however, of there being still occasion for 
 an enlargement of the means of instruction, and 
 having by the munificence of a generous individual, 
 been presented with a house and premises well 
 adapted to academical purposes, they could feel no 
 hesitation in accepting so noble a gift, or in second- 
 ing the pious and benevolent design of the founder. 
 The institution is yet in its infancy, and subsists on 
 a small scale. They look to the smiles of Heaven 
 and to the liberality of a Christian Public, and, 
 espexiially to the piety and opulence of the pro- 
 fessors of religion in the metropolis, who have never 
 been wanting in the zealous support of institutionis 
 tending to promote the glory of God and the best 
 interest of mankind, for such an enlargement of 
 their funds and resources as, seconded by the ef- 
 forts of its worthy tutor, shall render it a perma- 
 nent and extensive blessing. 
 
 Leicester, December 31, ISll. 
 
 S9 
 
DISCOURAGEMENTS 
 
 AND 
 
 SUPPORTS, &c. 
 
 2 CORINTHIANS, IV. 1. 
 
 THEREFORE, SEEING WE HAVE THIS MINISTRY, AS \VK 
 HAVE RECEIVED MERCY, WE FAINT NOT. 
 
 As you have requested me to address you upon 
 the present occasion, I am persuaded you will deem 
 no apology necessary for the use of that freedom 
 which the nature of the service to which you have 
 invited me demands, combined with those senti- 
 ments of high esteem which your character will 
 always inspire. Havings with the accustomed 
 solemnities, been invested with the pastoral office 
 over this church, you will permit me to remind you 
 of the discouragements on the one hand, and the 
 suj)ports on the other, which you may reasonably 
 look for in your ministerial warfare, as far as they 
 are naturally suggested to us by the passage of 
 Scripture selected for the basis of our present dis- 
 course. ^^^^ 
 
228 
 
 If it is necessary for the private Christian, before 
 he assumes a religious profession, to count the cost ; 
 to the minister it cannot be less so, that he may not 
 be surprised by unexpected trials, nor dismayed at 
 the encounter of difficulties for whicli he has made 
 no preparation. A just estimate of the nature and 
 magnitude is an important qualification for the pro- 
 per discliarge of whatever function we are called ta 
 exert. As you are neither a novice in the ministry, 
 nor have failed to reflect deeply on the consequences 
 of your present engagements, you will not suspect 
 me of attempting, by the hints which may be sug- 
 gested, to give you information, but merely to stir 
 up your pure mind by way of remembrance. 
 
 1. Let me request your attention to the sources 
 <5f discouragement connected with the office you 
 have undertaken. They are such as arise, in part, 
 from the nature of the office itself, which is ap- 
 pointed for the purpose of converting souls to God, 
 and conducting them in the path to eternal life. 
 To you, in common with other Christian pastors, 
 is committed the ministry of reconciliation, the office 
 of promulgating that system of truth which is de- 
 signed to renew the world, and sanctify the church. 
 Under, the highest authority you are enjoined to use 
 your utmost eifoiis to open blind eyes, to turn them 
 from darJcness to ligJit, and from the poiver of Satan 
 unto God. The bare mention of such an employ- 
 Bicnt is enough to convince us the difficulties atten- 
 ding it are of no ordinary magnitude, and to maka 
 
9S9 
 
 us exclaim with an Apostle, Who is sufficient for 
 these things ? 
 
 1. The minds of men are naturally iuilisposed 
 to the reception of divine truth. The truths of the 
 gos^pel are not merely of a speculative nature, 
 "which need only to be stated with their proper evi- 
 dence in order to ensure their success : there are 
 in the mind latent prejudices against which they 
 strongly militate, and which, when excited, natural- 
 ly produce opposition. Mankind are disposed to 
 think well of themselves, to view their virtues 
 through a magnifying medium, and to cast their 
 deficiencies and vices into the shade. Dissatisfied, 
 as they often are, with their outward condition, they 
 have yet little or no conviction of their spiritual 
 wants ; but with respect to these are ready to im- 
 agine, with the Laodiceans, that they are rich and 
 increased in goods, and have need of nothing. 
 Hence, it is with extreme difficulty they are brought 
 to acquiesce in the humiliating representations made 
 by the oracles of God, of their native guilt and mis- 
 cry. They will readily confess they are not per- 
 fectly innocent or faultless : they have their imper- 
 fections as well as others, but they ar^'far from be- 
 lieving that they are actually under the wrath and 
 displeasure of the Almightj\ They feel, on the 
 whole, satisfied with themselves, and, by setting 
 their supposed good qualities and actions against 
 their bad ones, contrive to adjust their account in 
 
330 
 
 such a manner as leaves a considerable balance in 
 their favour. On the mercy of God they feel no 
 objection to profess their reliance ; deeming it more 
 decent, and even more safe, than to challenge his 
 justice ; but it is easy to perceive that the mercy of 
 Avhich they speak, is of such a nature, that they 
 would look upon it as an absurdity to suppose it 
 could be withheld. In short, they are the whole 
 who need no physician. 
 
 The gospel presupposes a charge of guilt; it as- 
 sumes, as an indubitable fact, the universal 
 apostacy of our race, and its consequent liabil- 
 ity to perish under the stroke of the divine anger; 
 nor can you acquit yourself of the imputation of 
 handling the word of God deceitfully, if, from false 
 delicacy, or mistaken tenderness, you neglect the 
 frequent incalcatlon of tliis momentous truth. You 
 will find it, however, no easy matter to fasten the 
 charge on the conscience ; which, when it seems to 
 be admitted, will often amount to nothing more than 
 *a vague and general acknowledgment, whicli leaves 
 the heart qv/ite unaffected. To convince effectually 
 is, indeed, the work of a superior agent. 
 
 3. The very attempt to produce that humiliating 
 sense of nnworthiness and weakness, which is es- 
 sential to a due reception of the gospel, will fre- 
 quently excite disgust, should it terminate in no 
 worse consequences. You will be reproached as 
 
231 
 
 the messenger of evil tidings, and suftpected of tali - 
 inga pleasure in overwhelming the soul witli dark 
 and melancholy forebodings. By a part of your 
 hearers you will possibly be regarded as an unnat- 
 ural character, and as having in your religion a tinct- 
 ure of what is savage and inhuman ; in consequence 
 of which, they who refuse to profit by your admo- 
 nitions, will be apt to apply to you the language of 
 the king of Israel, I hate Vun^for he ahvciya projjhe- 
 sieth evil of me and not ^-ood. Of the common apos- 
 tacy, one of the most distinguishing features is a 
 stupefaction, an insensibility in relation to whatever 
 is of a spiritual nature, together with a levity and 
 carelessness which it requires the utmost effort of 
 the Christian ministry to dispel. 
 
 3. If you should be successful in awakening a 
 salutary concern in the breasts of your hearers, and 
 exciting them to inquire what they must do to be 
 saved, fresh difficulties await you. The enemy 
 ■will leave no artifice untried to divert it, and {■> w ear 
 it off, by such a succession of cares and vanities, 
 that as much attention and address will be requi- 
 site to maintain it till it issues in a saving, effect, as 
 to produce it at first. There are many, w ho after 
 appearing for a time earnestly engaged in the pur- 
 suit of salvation, have in consequence of stifling con- 
 victions, become more callous and insensible than 
 ever, as iron is hardened in the fire. The grand 
 scope of the Christian ministry is to bring men home 
 
2B% 
 
 to Clirist; but ere they arrive thither, there are iiu- 
 Bierous by-paths, into which those who are awaken- 
 ed are in danger of diverting, and of finding a delu- 
 sive repose, without coming as humble penitents to 
 the foot of the cross. They are equally in danger 
 of catching at premature consolation, and of sinking 
 into listless despondency. Withhold thy throat 
 from thirstf said the prophet Jeremiah, and thy 
 foot from being unshod; but thou saidst, there is 
 no hope, for I have loved strangers, and after them 
 I must go. In the pursuit of eternal good, the heart 
 is extremely inconstant and irresolute ; easily pre- 
 vailed on, w hen the peace it is in quest of is delayed, 
 to desist from further seeking. During the first se- 
 rious impressions, the light, which unveils futurity, 
 often shines with too feeble a ray to produce that 
 perfect and plenary conviction which permits the 
 mind no longer to vaccilate : and the fascination of 
 sensible objects, eclipses the powers of the world 
 to come. Nor is there less to be apprehended from 
 another quarter. The conscience, roused to a just 
 sense of the danger to which the sinner is exposed 
 by his violation of the laws of God, is apt to derive 
 consolation from this very uneasiness ; by which 
 means it is possible that the alarm, which is chiefly 
 valuable on account of its tendency to produce a 
 consent to the overtures of the gospel, may ultimate- 
 ly lull the mind into a deceitful repose. The 
 number we fear is not small, of those, who, though 
 Ihcy have never experienced a saving change, are 
 
ytt under no apprehensions respecting tlieir state, 
 merely because they can remember the time when 
 Uiey felt poignant convictions. Mistaking wliat are 
 usually the preliminary steps to conversion, for con- 
 version itself, they deduce from their former appre- 
 hensions an antidote against present fears ; and from 
 past prognostics of danger, an omen of their future 
 safety. With persons of this description the flash- 
 cs of a superficial joy, arising from a presumption 
 of being already pardoned, accompanied with some 
 slight and transient relishes of the word of God, are 
 substituted for tliat new birth, and that lively trust 
 in the Redeemer, to which the promise of salvation 
 inseparably belongs. Such were those who receiv- 
 ed the seed into stony ground, and who having 
 heard the word of God anon trith joy received it, 
 but having no depth of earth it soon ivitheredaicay. 
 Others ende avour to sooth the anguish of their minds 
 by a punctual performance of certain religious ex- 
 ercises, and a partial reformation, of conduct ; in 
 consequence of which they sink into mere formalists ; 
 and confounding the instruments of religion with the 
 end, their apparent melioration of character diverts 
 their attention from their real wants, and, liy making 
 them insensible of the extent of their malady, ob- 
 structs their cure. Instead of imploring the assist- 
 ance of the great Physician, and implicitly comply- 
 ing with his prescriptions, they have recourse to pal- 
 liatives, which assuage the anguish and the smart, 
 
 30 
 
234 ../ 
 
 without reaching the seat, or touching the core of 
 tlie disoriler. 
 
 Were the change, which the gospel proposes 
 to effect, less fumlamental and extensive than it 
 is, we might the more easily flatter ourselves with 
 being able to carry its designs into execution. Did 
 it aim merely to polish the exterior, to tame the 
 wildness, and prune the luxuriance of nature, with- 
 out the implantation of a new principle, the under- 
 taking would be less arduous. But its scope is 
 much higher ; it proposes not merely to reform, but 
 to renew ; not so much to repair the moral edifice, 
 as to build it afresh ; not merely by the remonstran- 
 ces of reason, and the dictates of prudence, to en- 
 gage men to lay a restraint upon their vices, but, by 
 the inspiration of truth, to become new creatures. 
 The effects of the gospel on the heart, are compared, 
 by the prophet, to tlie planting of a wilderness, 
 where wliat was barrenness and desolation before, 
 is replenished with new productions, J will plant 
 in the wilderness Hie cedar-tree, the shittah-tree, 
 and th-e myrtle-tree ; I will set in the desert, the fir- 
 tree* the j)inp-tree, and the box -tree together y that 
 they may know, and consider, and understand, that 
 the hand of the Lord hath done this. Although the 
 change is frequently slow, and the Spirit of God, 
 in affecting it, may proceed by imperceptible steps, 
 and gentle insinuations, the issue is invariably the 
 same, nor can any representation do justice to its 
 
235 
 
 di«'*nity. How great tlie sIvlU requisite in those who 
 are to be the instruments of jiroducing it ! 
 
 To arrest the attention of the careless, to subdue 
 the pride and soften the obduracy of the human 
 heart, so that it shall stoop to the authority of an un- 
 seen Saviour, is a task which surpasses the utmost 
 efforts of human ability, unaided l)y a superior pow- 
 er. In attempting to realize the design of the Chris- 
 tian ministry, we are proposing to call the attention 
 of men from the things wliich are seen and tem- 
 poral, to things unseen and eternal ; to eoudwi them 
 from a life of sense, to a life of faith ; to subdue, or 
 weaken at least, tlie influence of a world, which, 
 being always present, is incessantly appealing to 
 the senses, and soliciting the heart, in favour gf a 
 state, whose very existence is ascertained only by 
 testimony. We call upon them to crucify the ilcsh 
 with its affections and lusts, to deny the strongest 
 and most inveterate propensities, and to renounce 
 the enjoyments which they have tasted and felt, for 
 the sake of a happiness to which they have no relish. 
 We must charge them, as they value their salvation, 
 not to love the world, who have been accustomed 
 to make it the sole object of their attachment, and 
 to return to their allegiance to that almighty and in- 
 visible Ruler from whom they have deeply revolted. 
 We present to them, it is true, a feast of fat thing* 
 •f wine on the lees well refined ; we invite them ta 
 entertainments more ample and exquisite^ than, but 
 
S36 
 
 for the gospol, it had entered into the heart of man 
 to conceive ; but we address our invitations to minds 
 fatally indisposed, alienated from the life of God, 
 with little sense of the value of his favour, and no 
 delight in his converse. The souls we address, 
 though originally formed for these enjoyments, and 
 utterly incapable of being happy without them, have 
 lost, through the fall, that right taste and apprelien- 
 sioa of things, which is requisite for the due appre- 
 ciation of these blessings, and, likeEzckiel, we pro- 
 phesy to dry bones in the valley of Vision, which 
 will never live but under the visitation of that breath 
 which bloweth were it listeth. This indisposition 
 to the things of God, so radical and incurable by 
 human power, as it has been a frequent source of 
 discouragement to the faithful minister, so it would 
 prove an invincible obstacle to success, did that suc- 
 cess depend upon human agency. 
 
 II. To these diflTiculiies, which arise from the 
 nature of the work, abstractedly considered, must 
 he added, those which are modified by a variety of 
 circumstances, and which result from tliat diversity 
 of temper, character, and situation, which prevails 
 in our auditory. To the several Masses of wliich 
 it consists, it is necessary rightly to divide the word 
 of truth, and give to every one his portion of vieat 
 in due season. The epidemic malady of our nature 
 assumes so many shapes, and appears under such 
 a variety of symptoms, that these may be considere<l 
 
as so many distiuct diseases, which demand a pro 
 portionate variety in tlie method of treatment ; nor 
 will the same prescription suit all cases. A difl'er- 
 ent set of truths, a different mode of address is re- 
 quisite to rouse the careless, to heat down the arro- 
 gance of a self-justifying spirit, from what is ne- 
 cessary to comfort the humhle and contrite in heart ; 
 nor is it easy to say, which we should most anx- 
 iously guard against, the infusion of a false peace, 
 or inflaming the wounds which we ought to heal. 
 A loose and indiscriminate manner of applying the 
 promises and threatenings of the gospel, is ill- 
 judged and pernicious; it is not possihle to con- 
 ceive a more effectual method of depriving the 
 sword of the Spirit of its edge, than adopting that 
 lax generality of representation, which leaves its 
 hearer nothing to apply, presents no incentive to 
 self-examination, and, besides its utter inefficiency, 
 disgusts by the ignorance of human nature, or the 
 disregard to its bests interests, it infallibly betrays. 
 Without descending to such a minute specification 
 of circumstances, as shall make our addresses per- 
 sonal, they ought unquestionably to be characteris- 
 tic, that the conscience of the audience may feel the 
 hand of the preacher searching it, and every indi- 
 vidual know where to class himself. The preacher 
 who aims at doing good will endeavour, above all 
 things, to insulate his hearers, to place each of them 
 apart, and render it impossible for him to escape 
 by losing himself in the crowd. At the day of 
 
» 
 
 S38 
 
 jiulgmeiit, the attention excited hy the surroundin 
 scene, the strange aspect of nature, the dissolution 
 of the elements, and the last trump, will have no 
 olher effect than to cause the reflections of the sin. 
 iier to iclurn witli a more over\\ helming tide on his 
 own cliaracter, Ijis sentence, his unchanging desti- 
 ny ; and, amid the innumerable millions who sur- 
 round him, he Avill mourn apart. It is thus the 
 Christian minister should endeavour to prepare the 
 tribunal of conscience, and turn th.e eyes of every 
 one of his hearers on himself. 
 
 To men of dilferent casts and complexions, it is 
 obvious, a corresponding difference in the selection 
 of topics, and the method of appeal, is requisite. 
 Some are only capable of digesting the first prin- 
 ciples of religion, on whom it is necessary often to 
 inculcate the same lessons, with the reiteration of 
 parental solicitude : there are others of a wider grasp 
 of comprehension, who must be indulged with an 
 ampler variety, and to whom views of neligion less 
 obvious, less obtrusive, and demanding a more 
 vigorous exercise of the understanding, are peculi- 
 arly adapted. Some are accustomed to contem- 
 plate every subject in a light so cool and argumen- 
 tative, that they are not easily impressed with any 
 thing which is not presented in the garb of reason- 
 ing; nor apt, though firm believers in Revelation, 
 to be strongly moved by naked assertions even from 
 that quarter. There are others of a softer tempera- 
 
889 
 
 ment, who are more easily won by tender strokes of 
 pathos. Minds of an obdurate make, and which 
 have been rendered callous by long habits of vice, 
 must be appalled and subdued by the terrors of the 
 Lord ; while others are capable of being drawn 
 with the cords of love, and icith the bands of a man. 
 Some we must save with fear, plucking them out of 
 the f re ; on others we must have compassion, mak- 
 ing a difference. You will recollect, that he who 
 spake as never man spake, mild, gentle, iusinuat- 
 ing in his addresses to the multitude, reserved the 
 thunder of his denunciations for sanctimonious 
 hypocrites. In this part of our ministerial func- 
 tion, we shall do well to imitate St. Paul, who 
 became all things to all men, that he might win 
 some ; combining, in his efforts for the salvation of 
 souls, the utmost simplicity of intention, with the 
 utmost versatility of address. 
 
 May I be permitted to remark, though it seem a 
 digression, that in the mode of conducting our pub- 
 lic ministrations, we are, perhaps, too formal and 
 mechanical ; that, in the distribution of the matter 
 of our sermons, we indulge too little variety, and 
 exposing our plan in all its parts, abate t^te edge 
 of curiosity, by enabling'the hearer to anticipate 
 what we intend to advance. Why should that 
 force which surprise gives to every emotion, deriv- 
 ed from just and affecting sentiments, be bakiished 
 from the pulpit, when it is found of such moment 
 
S40 
 
 111 every other kind of public address. I cannot 
 but imagine the first preachers of the gospel ap- 
 peared before their audience with a more free and 
 unfettered air, than is consistent with the narrow 
 trammels to which, in these latter ages, discourses 
 from the pulpit are confined. The sublime emo- 
 tions with which they were fraught, would have ren- 
 dered them impatient of such restrictions ; nor could 
 they suffer the impetuous stream of argument, ex- 
 postulation, and pathos, to be weakened, by di- 
 verting it into the artificial reservoirs, prepared in 
 the heads and particulars of a modern sermon. 
 Method, we are aware, is an essential ingredient 
 in every discourse designed for the instruction of 
 mankind, but it ought never to force itself on the 
 attention as an object apart ; never appear to be an 
 end, instead of an instrument; or beget a suspicion 
 of the sentiments being introduced for the sake of 
 the method, not the method for the sentiments. Let 
 the experiment be tried on some of the best speci- 
 mens of ancient eloquence ; let an oration of Cicero 
 or Demosthenes be stretched upon a Procrustes' bed 
 of this sort, and, if I am not greatly mistaken, the 
 flame and enthusiasm which have excited admira- 
 tion in all ages, will instantly evaporate : yet no one 
 perceives a want of method in these immortal com- 
 positions, nor can any thing be conceived more re- 
 mote from incoherent rhapsody. 
 
S4i 
 
 To return to the subject : v hiUevet' the mode of 
 address, or whatever tiie choice of 'opics, there are 
 two (jualities inseparahle from religious instrue- 
 tion : tliese are seriousness aiul aj^i^ction. In the 
 most awful denunciations of the divine displ(;asure, 
 an air of unafTccted tenderness should be preserved, 
 that while with unsparing fidelity we declare the 
 whole counsel of God, it may appear we are actua- 
 ted by a genuine spirit of comppvSsion. A hard and 
 unfeeling manner of denouncing tlie threatenings of 
 the word of God, is not only barbarous and inhu- 
 man, hut calculated, by inspiring disgust, to rob 
 them of all their eiilcacy. If the awful part of our 
 message, which may be stiled the burden of the 
 Lord, ever fall with due weiglst on our hearers, it 
 will be when it is delivered witli a trembling hand 
 and faltering lips ; and we may then expect them 
 to realize its solemn import, w hen they perceive 
 that we ourselves are ready to sink under it. Of 
 whom 1 have told you before, said St. Paul, and 
 now tell you ^y^^^J^Jg; that they are the enemies of 
 tlie cross of Christ. What force does that affect- 
 ing declaration derive from these tears ! An affec- 
 tionate manner insinuates itself into the heart, ren- 
 ders it soft and plia!)le, and disposes it to imbibe the 
 sentiments and follow \^^. impulse of the speaker. 
 Whoever has attended to the effect of addresses 
 from the pulpit, must liave perceived how mucli of 
 their impression depends upon this quality, v/hich 
 gives to sentiments comparatively trite, a powei- 
 
 31 
 
24^ 
 
 over the mind beyond what the most striking ami 
 original conceptions possess without it. 
 
 Near akin to this, and not inferior in importance, 
 is the second quality we mentioned, seriousness. 
 It'ns scarcely necessary to remark, how offensive 
 and unnatural is every violation of it in a religious 
 discourse, which is, however, of wider extent than 
 is generally imagined, including not merely jesting, 
 buffoonery, and undisguised levity of every sort, but 
 also whatsoever in composition or manner, is incon- 
 sistent with the supposition of the speaker being 
 deeply in earnest ; such as sparkling ornaments, 
 far-fetched images, and that exuberance of flowers 
 which seems evidently designed to gratify the fancy, 
 rather than to touch the heart. When St. Paul re- 
 commends to Timothy, that sound speech wliich 
 cannot be condemned, it is probable he refers as 
 much to the propriety of the vehicle, as to the pu- 
 rity of the instruction. There is, permit me to re- 
 mind you, a sober dignity, both of language and of 
 sentiment, suited to the representations of religion 
 in all its variety of topics, from which the inspired 
 writers never depart, and which it will be our wis- 
 dom to imitate. In describing the pleasures of de- 
 votion, or the joys of heaven, there is nothing weak, 
 sickly, or effeminate : a chaste severity pervades 
 their delineations, and whatever they say appears 
 to emanate from a serious mind, accustomed to the 
 contemplation of great objects, without ever sink- 
 
2-13 
 
 ing under them from imbecility, or attempting to 
 supply a deficiency of interest, by puerile exagge- 
 rations and feeble ornaments. The exquisite pro- 
 priety of their representations is chiefly to be as- 
 cribed to their habitual seriousness ; and the latter 
 to their seeing things as they are. 
 
 Having touched on the principal difficulties at- 
 tending the public exercise of the ministry, it may 
 be expected something will be said on his more 
 private functions. To affirm it to be the duty of a 
 pastor to visit his people often, is, perhaps, affirm- 
 ing too much ; the more frequently he converses 
 with them, however, provided his conversation be 
 properly conducted, the more will his person be en- 
 deared, and his ministry acceptable. The season- 
 able introduction of religious topics is often of such 
 admirable use, that there are few qualities more 
 enviable than the talent of teaching from house to 
 house ; though the modern state of manners, I am 
 aware, has rendered this branch of the pastoral of- 
 fice much more difficult than in former times. In a 
 country village, where there is more simplicity, 
 loss dissipation, and less hurry of business tlian in 
 large towns, prudent exertions in this kind may be 
 considered as eminently proper and beneficml. The 
 extent to which they should be carried must be de- 
 termined by circumstances, without attempting to 
 prescribe any other rule than this, that the conversa- 
 tion of a Christian minister should be always such, 
 
21-4 
 
 as is adapted to stveugUien, not impair, tlie irapre.«- 
 prcssion of his public instructions. Though it is 
 not necessary., nor expedient, for him to be always 
 conveisisjg on the sul»ject of re]igi«)n. his conver- 
 sation should invariai)]y have a religious tendency; 
 that whatever excursions he indulges, the return 
 to serous topics may he eosy and natural. Tlie 
 whole cast of his character should he such as is 
 adapted to give weight to the exercise of his raiiiis- 
 terial functions. On the peculiar force with which 
 the obligations of virtue attach to a Christian 
 teacher, the purity and correctness of your own con- 
 duct, while it would embolden me to speak with the 
 greater freedom, make it less necessary for me to 
 insist. You are aware that moral delinquency in 
 Mmf produces a sensation as wlien an armour-bear^ 
 er fainteth ; that he can neither stand nor fall by 
 himself ; and that it is impossible for him to deviate 
 essentially from the path of rectitude, without in- 
 curring tiie guilt and infamy of Jeroboam, who 
 IS never mentioned but to be stigmatized as he icho 
 taught Israel to sin. Be thou an evFample to the 
 ^fock in faiih, in 'piiviiy, in ccnverscdionj in doc- 
 trine , in charity. Instead of satisfying ourselves^ 
 in the acquisition of virtue wi(h the attainments of 
 a learner, we must aspire to the perfection of a mas- 
 ter ; and give to our conduct the correctness of a 
 paitern. We are called to such a conquest over 
 the world, and such an exhibition of the spirit of 
 Chiist, as shall not merely exempt us from censure^ 
 
245 
 
 but excite to emulation. Fe are the salt of the eai^i^ 
 ye are the light nf the world, said our Saviour to 
 his disciples, vvliom he was about to send forth in 
 the character of public teachers. As persons to 
 whom the conduct of souls is committed, we cannot 
 make a wrong step without endangering the inter- 
 ests of others; so that if wo neglect to take our 
 soundings, and inspect our chart, ours is tlie mis- 
 conduct of tlie pilot, who is denied the privilege of 
 perishing alone. The imniGral conduct of a Chris- 
 tian minister is little less than a public triumph over 
 the religion he inculcates: and when we recollect 
 the frailty of our nature, the snares to which we 
 are exposed, and the wiles of our adversary, who 
 will proportion his efforts to the advantages result- 
 ing from his success, we must be aware how much 
 the necessity of maintaining an exemplary conduct 
 adds to the difficulty of the ministerial function. 
 
 With tiie utmost propriety of conduct, and the 
 greatest skill exerted in your work, we dare not flat- 
 teryou with the pi'ospect of unmingled success. Un- 
 der the most judicious method of treatment, the 
 maladies of some will prove incurable, and they 
 will perish under your hand. While to some, the 
 gospel is a savour of life unto life, to others it will 
 prove the savour of death unto death ; and in the 
 course of your labours, you will meet with frequent 
 disappointments M'here you have formed the most 
 
S46 
 
 sanguine expectations. Some toho did run well, 
 will afterivards be hindered ; and of others who 
 have clean escaped the pollutions of the icorld, 
 through the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour 
 Jesus Christy being afterwards entangled therein, 
 the latter end will be worse than the beginning. 
 Many a Demas, it is probable, will forsake you, 
 having loved this present world; and by many of 
 your hearers, who now evince the most zealous 
 attachment, you may hereafter be considered as an 
 enemy, because you tell them the truth. In certain 
 instances, your ministry will be attended with con- 
 sequences which you cannot contemplate without 
 deep concern ; for the Sword of the Spirit is au 
 av/ful weapon, which will exert, where it fails to 
 inflict a salutary wound, its destructive edge. 
 Against those of your hearers who reject your 
 message, though now an ambassador of peace, and 
 often a weeping suppliant at their feet, you will 
 *,ere lon^ appear a swift witness before God, and 
 be compelled, by your voice, to exasperate the 
 accents of vengeance, and augment the vials of 
 wrath. Tou are set for the rising and falling of 
 Tuany in Israel. 
 
 II. But it is time to turn to a more pleasing part 
 of our subject, and to remind you of some of the sup- 
 ports by w hich these sources of discouragement are 
 balanced. 
 
847 
 
 1. The office you haye undertaken is of divine 
 institution. Tlie unhappy disputes which have 
 prevailed in the church, respecting the proper 
 channels for conveying, and the legitimate mode of 
 Testing it, are so far from weakening or perplexing 
 the evidence of this truth, that they may be consid- 
 ered as so many concurrent suffrages in its favour ; 
 since it is allowed, on all hands, that the Christian 
 ministry is an ordinance of God ; an expedient for 
 the improvement of mankind, of his devising, and 
 supported by his authority. But of that wisdom 
 which pervades the works of God, the church is the 
 principal scene ; to the intent, saith the Apostle, 
 that to principalities and poicers, might be made 
 knoivn by the church, the manifold wisdom of God. 
 Hence we may be certain that so leading a branch 
 of its constitution as that under our consideration, 
 cannot fail of being adapted, in the best possible 
 manner, to promote the interest of religion ; nor is 
 it difficult to perceive, that if men are to be wrought 
 upon by reason and persuasion, tho setting apart an 
 order for the express purpose of instructing them in 
 the concerns of salvation, must have a beneficial 
 tendency ; an order, be it remembered, not appointed 
 like the priests of pagan antiquity, for the perform- 
 ance of ceremonies, but for the inculcation of truth ; 
 not to conduct the pomp of lustrations and sacrifices, 
 but to watch for souh as those that must give an 
 account. Nothing similar to this was known in the 
 heathen religions : it is peculiar to Christianity, and 
 
evincing the simple wisdom of its autlior, is as ori- 
 ginal in its^conception, as it is admirable in its ef- 
 fecfcs. Its simplicity, its distance from whatever is 
 dazzling in the eyes of mankind, is one of its high- 
 est recommendations; for the Christian minister. is 
 beaiitifolly compared to a llshermaii, who would 
 only be embarrassed by those instruments and ap- 
 pendages which belong to more splendid but less 
 useful employments. 
 
 S. Another consideration calculated to afford U8 
 encouragement is, that the materials of our work 
 sire ready furnished to our hand, and, at the same 
 time, of a nature admirably adapted to our purpose. 
 Our ofiice is that of stewards of the mysteries of the 
 kingdom ; our duty, faithfully to dispense the stores 
 which superior wisdom and opulence have provid- 
 ed. It is not necessary for us to stretch our inven- 
 tion in the discovery of topics and arguments ilttcd 
 to move the mind, and impel it in aright direction, 
 which, if w^e may judge from past experience, 
 would be a most unpromising undertakiug. A doc- 
 Irine, full, pure, perfect, to which nothing can be 
 added without debasing its spirit, nothing taken 
 away without impairing its proportions, is commit 
 ted to our trust, to be retained aifd preserved, just 
 as we have received it, and delivered to our hear- 
 ers in all its primitive simplicity. Like the works 
 of nature, while it exhibits, at first view, an impress^ 
 of its author, in the unequivocal character it bear* 
 
249 
 
 of purity and majesty, it improves on a closer exam- 
 ination, and the more deeply it is investigated, the 
 more the wisdom of tlic contrivance, in its exquisite 
 adaptation to the state and condition of mankind^ 
 becomes conspicuous. As the discovery of a way 
 of salvation for a fallen race, of the method by 
 which a guilty and degenerate creature may re- 
 cover the image and favour of his Maker, which we 
 must ever remember is its most essential character- 
 istic, what is wanting to its perfection ? what in- 
 formation or assurance beyond what it contains, 
 calculated to awe, enlighten, convince, and encour- 
 age ? The facts it exhibits, supported by clear and 
 indubitable testimony, are more extraordinary than 
 ever entered the mind of man in its widest excur- 
 sions, combining all the sobriety of trutli, with 
 more than the grandeur of fiction ; and the doc- 
 trines connected with these facts, by the easiest 
 and most natural inference, are of infinite moment. 
 To a serious mind, the truths of the Christian re- 
 ligion appear with such an air of unaffected great- 
 ness, that, in comparison of these, all other specu- 
 lations and reasouiiigs seem like the amusements 
 of childhood. When the Deity, the incarnation, 
 the atonement, the resurrection of the Son of God, 
 the sanctification of the church, and the prospects 
 of glory, have engaged our contemplation, we feel, 
 in turning our attention to other objects, a strange 
 descent, and perceive, with the certainty of demon- 
 stration, that, as the earth is too narrow for the full 
 
 3S 
 
250 
 
 tlevelopemeiit of these mysteries, they are destined, 
 by their consequences and effects, to impregnate an 
 eternal duration. We are not at all surprised at 
 finding that the ancient prophets searched into these 
 mysteries with great but unsuccessful diligence, 
 that the angels desire to look into them, or that the 
 apostles were lost in the contemplation of t{u>s6 
 i'iches which they proclaimed and imparted. Arft 
 you desirous of fixing the attention of your hearers 
 strongly on their everlasting concerns ? No pecu- 
 liar refinement of thought, no subtilty of reasoning, 
 much less the pompous exaggerations of secular elo- 
 quence, are wanted for that purpose : you have 
 only to imbibe deeply the mind of Christ, to let his 
 doctrine enlighten, his love inspire your heart, and 
 your situation, in comparison of other speakers, will 
 resemble that of the angel of the apocalypse, who 
 was seen standing in the sun. Draw your instruc- 
 tions immediately from the Bible ; the more imme- 
 diately they are derived from the source, and the 
 less they are tinctured with human distinctions and 
 refinements, the more salutary, and the more effica- 
 cious. Let them be taken fresh from the spring. 
 You, I am persuaded, will not satisfy yourself with 
 the study of Christianity in narrow jejune abridg- 
 ments and systems, but contemplate it, in its utmost 
 extent, as it subsists in the sacred oracles; and, 
 in investigating these, you will permit your reason 
 and conscience an operation, as free and unfet- 
 tered, as if none had examined them before. Th© 
 
S51 
 
 neglect of this produces, too often, an artificial 
 scarcity, where some of the choicest provisions of 
 the household are exploded or overlooked. 
 
 When we inculcate, with so much earnestness, 
 an attention to the miud of Christ, as exhibited in 
 the Scriptures, let us not be understood to exclude 
 liis precepts, or to countenance, for a moment, the 
 too frequent neglect of Christian morality. While 
 you delight in displaying the riches of divine grace, 
 conspicuous in the work of redemption, as the 
 grand motive to love and Irust in the Redeemer, 
 you will not forget frequently to admonish your 
 liearers, that he only loveth him who keepeth his 
 sayhigs ; the illustration of which, in their bear- 
 ings upon the different relations and circumstances 
 of life, will form, if you follow the apostolic ex- 
 ample, a most important branch of your ministry. 
 Not content with committing the oblii^ation of 
 morality to the arbitration of feeling, much less 
 with faintly hinting at it, as an obvious inference 
 from orthodox doctrine, you will illustrate its prin- 
 ciples with an energy, a copiousness, a fulness of 
 detail, proportioned to its acknowledged impor- 
 tance. You will not be silent on the precepts, 
 from an apprehension of infringing on the freedom 
 of the gospel, nor sink the character of the legisla 
 tor in that of tlic Saviour of the church. A morali- 
 ty, more elevated and pure than is to be met with 
 in the pages of Sencea or Ilpictctus. will breathe 
 
233 
 
 through your sermons, founded on abasis, which ev- 
 ery understanding caneomprehendj and enforced by 
 sanctions, which nothing but the utmost stupidity 
 can despise — a morality of which the love of God, 
 and a devoted attachment to the Redeemer, are the 
 plastic soul, which, pervading every limb, and ex- 
 pressing itself in every lineament of the new crea- 
 ture, gives it a beauty all its own. As it is the 
 genuine fruit of just and affecting views of divine 
 truth, you will never sever it from its parent stock, 
 nor indulge the fruitless hope of leading men to ho- 
 liness, without stron|ly imbuing them with the spi- 
 rit of the gospel. Truth and holiness are, in the 
 Christian system, so intimately allied, that the 
 warm and faithful inculcation of the one, lays the 
 only foundation for the other. For the illustration of 
 particular branches of morals, we may consult Pa- 
 gan writers on ethics, with advantage ; but in search 
 of princi/pleSj it is at our peril that we desert the 
 school of Christ: since we are complete in him, 
 and all the moral excellence to which we can aspire 
 is but Christianity embodied ; or, if we may be al- 
 lowed to change the figure, the impress of the gos- 
 pel upon the heart. The perfection of the Chris- 
 tian system, considered as the instrument of reno- 
 vating the human mind, is the second considera- 
 tion. 
 
 3. The third consideration to which I would 
 direct your attention, is, that of its ^^beiug the dis- 
 
S53 
 
 pensation of the Spirit. To this the Apostle imme- 
 diately refers in the context, where he is contrast- 
 ing the Christian with the Jewish institute. Who 
 hath also made lis able ministers of the JV'eiv Testa- 
 ment, not of the letter, but of the spirit ; for the 
 letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life. But if the 
 ministration of death written and engraven in 
 stones was glorious, how shall not the ministration 
 efthe spirit be more glorious. From tliis cicura- 
 gtance, he infers, the superior dignity of the Chris- 
 tian ministry The miraculous gifts intended for 
 a sign to unbelievers, and to aid the gospel, during 
 its first struggle with the powers of Pagan darkness, 
 have long since ceased, with the exigency that cal- 
 led them forth ; but the renewing and sanctifying 
 agency of the spirit remains, and will continue to 
 the end of time ? the express declaration of our 
 Saviour not admitting a doubt of its perpetuity. 
 I will pray the Father, and he shall give you 
 another comforter, that he may abide with you for- 
 ever, the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot 
 receive, because it seeth him not, neithe^^ knoweth 
 him, but ye know him, for he dwelleth with you, and 
 shall be in you. To the world, who, in their uii- 
 renewed state, are unsusceptible of his sanctifying 
 impress, he is promised, in the preparatory form of 
 a spirit of conviction ; to believers, he is promised 
 as an indwelling principle, an ever-present Deity. 
 w^ho consecrates the hearts of the faithful to be his 
 perpetual abode. Hence the ministers of Christ 
 
254. 
 
 are not dependant for success on the force of moral 
 suasion ; not merely the teachers of an external re- 
 ligion, including truths the most momentous, and 
 duties of the highest obligation ; they are also the 
 instruments through whom a supernatural agency is 
 exerted. And hence, in the conversion of souls, we 
 are not to compare the difficulties to be surmounted, 
 with the feeble resources of human power, but with 
 liis, with whom nothing is impossible. To this the 
 inspired Historian every where directs our atten- 
 tion, as alone sufficient to account for the signal 
 success which crowned the labours of the first 
 preachers. If a great multitude at Antioch turned 
 to the Lord, it was because the hand of the Lord ivas 
 ivith them ; if Lydia believed, in consequence of 
 giving attention to the things that were spoken, it was 
 because the hovd ojjened her heart ; if Paul planted, 
 and Apollos watered, with success, it was the Lord 
 wJio gave the increase; and highly as they were 
 endowed, and though invested with such extensive 
 authority', they did not presume to count upon any 
 thing from themselves ; their sufficiency was of God. 
 As the possibility of such an influence can l)e doubted 
 by none who believe in a Deity, so the peculiar 
 consolation derived from the doctrine that asserts it, 
 seems to he this, that it renders what was merely 
 possible, certain ; what was before vague and unde- 
 termined, fixed, by reducing the interposition of 
 the Almighty, in the concerns of salvation, to a stat- 
 ed method and a settled law. The communication 
 
S5j 
 
 of the Spirit, to render the gospel efficacious, he- 
 comes a standing ordinance of heaven, and a full se- 
 curity for its final triumph over every opposing 
 force. My word, said the Lord by the prophet, 
 shall not return unto me void, but shall accomplish 
 the thing ivhereimto I sent it. At the same time, 
 connected as it is by the very tenor of the promise, 
 with the publication of au external revelation, and 
 professing to set its seal only to the testimony of 
 Jesus, it precludes, as far as possible, every enthu- 
 siastic pretension, by leaving the appeal to Scrip- 
 ture as full, and uncontrolled as if no such agency 
 were supposed. It is strange that any should be 
 found to deny a doctrine so consolatory, under the 
 pretence of its derogating from the sufficiency of 
 Revelation, when it not only ascribes to it all tho 
 efficacy that can belong to an instrument, or exter- 
 nal mean ; but confers the highest honour upon it, 
 by marking it out as the only fountain of instruction 
 to which the agency of the Deity is inseparably at- 
 tached. The idea of his immediate interposition 
 must necessarily increase our veneration for what- 
 ever is connected with it; and let it ever be remem- 
 bered, that the internal illumination of the Spirit is 
 merely intended to qualify the mind for distinctly 
 perceiving, and cordially embracing those objects, 
 and no other, which are exhibited in the written 
 word. To dispel prejudice, to excite a disposition 
 for inquiry, and to infuse that love of the truth, with- 
 out which we can neither be transformed by its power 
 
S56 
 
 nor bow to its dictates, is tlie grand scope of spirit- 
 ual agency ; and how this should derogate from the 
 dignity of the truth itself^ it is not easy to conceive. 
 The inseparable alliance between the Spirit and the 
 Word secures the harmony of the divine dispensa- 
 tions ; and since that Spirit of truth can never con- 
 tradict himself, whatever impulse he may give, 
 whatever disposition he may communicate., it in- 
 volves no irreverence towards that divine agent to 
 compare his operations with that standing revela- 
 tion, wliich, equally claiming him for its author, he 
 has expressly appointed for the trial of the spirits* 
 
 Let me earnestly intreat you, by keeping close to 
 the fountain of grace, to secure a large measure of 
 its influence. In your private studies, and in your 
 public performances, remember your" absolute de- 
 pendance on superior aid ; let your conviction of 
 this dependance become so deep and practical as to 
 prevent your attempting any thing in your own 
 strength, after the example of St. Paul, who, when 
 he had occasion to advert to his labours in the gospel, 
 checks himself by adding, with ineffable modesty, 
 i,>et not I, hilt the grace of God that ivas with me. 
 From that vivid perception of truth, that full as- 
 surance of faith, which is its inseparable attendant, 
 you will derive unspeakable advantage in address- 
 ing your hearers ; a seriousness, tenderness, and 
 majesty, will pervade your discourses, beyond what 
 the greatest, unassisted talent can command. In 
 
857 
 
 the choice of your subjects it will lead you to what 
 is most solid and useful, while it enables you to 
 handle them in a manner the most efficacious and 
 impressive. Possessed of this celestial unction, 
 you will not be under the temptation of neglecting a 
 plain gospel in quest of amusing speculations or un- 
 profitable novelties ; the most ordinary topics will 
 open themselves with a freshness and interest, as 
 though you had never considered them before ; and 
 the things of the Spirit will display their inexhaus- 
 tible variety and depth. You will pierce the invis- 
 ible world ; you will look, so to speak, into eterni- 
 ty, and present the essence and core of religion, 
 while too many preachers, for want of spiritual dis- 
 cernment, rest satisfied with the surface and the 
 shell. It will not allow us to throw one grain of 
 incense on the altar of vanity ; it will make us for- 
 get ourselves so completely as to convince our hear- 
 ers we do so ; and, displacing every thing else from 
 the attention, leave nothing to be felt, or thought 
 of, but the majesty of truth, and the realities of eter- 
 nity. 
 
 In proportion to the degree in which you possess 
 this sacred influence, will be the earnestness with 
 which you implore it in behalf of your hearers. 
 Often loillyou bow the knee to the God and Father 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ, that he will grant unto 
 them, the Spirit of wisdom and revelation in the 
 
 33 
 
S38 
 
 knowledge ofhim^ the eyes of their uvder standing 
 being enlightened, that they may know what is the 
 hope of their calling, and what are the riches of the 
 glory of his inheritance among them that believe. 
 
 On the one hand, it deserves attention, that the 
 most eminent and successful preachers of the gos- 
 pel in different communities, a Brainerd, a Baxter^ 
 and a Schwartz, have been the most conspicuous 
 for a simple dependance upon spiritual aid ; and, 
 on the other, that no success whatever has attended 
 the ministrations of those by whom this droctrine 
 has been either neglected or denied. They have 
 met with such a rebuke of their pi'esumpdon, in the 
 total failure of their efforts, that none will contend 
 for the reality of divine interposition, as far as they 
 are concerned ; for when has the arm of the Lord 
 been revealed to those pretended teachers of Chris- 
 tianity, who believe there is no such arm? We 
 must leave them to labour in a field, respecting 
 which God has commanded the clouds not to rain 
 upon it. As if conscious of this, of late they have 
 turned their efforts into a new channel, and, des- 
 pairing of the conversion of sinners, have confined 
 themselves to the seduction of the faithful ; in 
 which, it must be confessed, they have acted in a, 
 manner perfectly consistent with their principles ; 
 the propagation of heresy requiring, at least, no rf?- 
 vine assistance. 
 
259 
 
 h Let me request you to consider the dignity and 
 importance of the profession which you liavc assum- 
 ed. 1 am aware that the bare mention of these, 
 as attributes of the Christian ministry (especially 
 when exercised among Protestant dissenters,) may 
 provoke a smile : we contend, however, that if the 
 dignity of an employment is to be estimated, not by 
 the glitter of external appearances, but by the mag- 
 nitude and duration of the consequences involved in 
 its success, the ministerial function is an higli and 
 honourable one. Though it is not permitted us to 
 magnify ourselves, we may be allowed to magnify 
 our office ; and, indeed, the juster the apprehen- 
 sions we entertain of what belongs to it, the deeper 
 the conviction we shall feel of our defects. Inde- 
 pendently of every other consideration, that office 
 cannot be mean which the Son of God condescend- 
 ed to sustain : for The word which we preach Jirst 
 began to be spoken by the Lord ; and, while he so- 
 journed upon earth, that Prince of life was chiefly 
 employed in publishing his own relisjion. Tliat 
 office cannot be mean, whose end is tl)e reoovery of 
 man to his original purity and happiness — the illu- 
 mination of the understanding — the communication 
 of truth — and the production of principles w hicli 
 will bring forth fruit unto everlasting life. As the 
 material part of the creation was formed for the 
 sake of the immaterial ; and of the latter the most 
 momentous characteristic is its moral and account, 
 able nature, or, in other words, its capacity of vir- 
 
S60 
 
 tuc and of vice ; that labour cannot want dignity, 
 which is exerted in improving man in his highest 
 character, and fitting him for his eternal destination. 
 Here alone is certainty and durability : for, however 
 highly we may esteem the arts and sciences, which 
 polish our species, and promote the welfare of so- 
 ciety ; whatever reverence we may feel, and ought 
 to feel, for those laws and institutions whence it 
 derives the security necessary for enabling it to en- 
 large its resources and develope its energies, we 
 cannot forget that these are but the embellishments 
 of a scene, we must shortly quit — the decorations 
 of a theatre, from which the eager spectators and 
 appla'ided actors must soon retire. The end of 
 all things is at hand. Vanity is inscribed on 
 every earthly pursuit, on all sublunary labour ; 
 its materials, its instruments, and its objects will 
 alike perish. An incurable taint of mortality has 
 seized upon, and will consume them ere long. The 
 acquisitions derived from religion, the graces of a 
 renovated mind, are alone permanent. This is the 
 mystic inclosure, rescued from the empire of change 
 anti death ; this tiie field which the Lord has bless- 
 ed ; arid this word of the kingdom, the seed which 
 alone produces immortal fruit, the very bread of 
 life, with which, under a higher economy, the 
 Lamb in the midst of the throne, will feed his flock 
 and leplenish his elect, through eternal ages. 
 How high antr awful a function is that which pro- 
 poses to establish in the soul an interior dominion-— 
 
S61 
 
 to illuminate its powers by a celestial light — aud 
 introduce it to an intimate, ineffable, and unchang- 
 ing alliance with the Father of Spirits. What an 
 honour to be employed as the instrument of con- 
 ducting that mysterious process by which men are 
 born of God ; to expel from the heart the venom of 
 the old serpent ; to purge the conscience from in- 
 visible stains of guilt ; to release the passions from 
 the bondage of corruption, aud invite them to soar 
 aloft into the regions of uncreated light and beauty ; 
 to say to the prisoners, go forth, to them that are in 
 darkness, shew yourselves/ These are the fruits 
 which arise from the successful discharge of the 
 Christian ministry ; these the effects of the gospel, 
 wherever it becomes the power of God unto sal- 
 vation : and the interests which they create, the joy 
 which they diffuse, are felt in other worlds. 
 
 In insisting on the dignity attached to the minis- 
 terial office, it is far from my intention to supply 
 fuel to vanity, or suggest such ideas of yourself as 
 shall tempt you to lord it over God's heritage. 
 Let the importance of your station be rather felt 
 and acnowledged in its beneficial results, than os- 
 tentatiously displayed ; and the consciousness of it, 
 instead of being suffered to evaporate in authorita- 
 tive airs and pompous pretensions, produce a con- 
 centration of your powers. If the great Apostle 
 was content to be a helper of the joy, witiiout claim- 
 ing dominion over the faith of his converts, how far 
 
263 
 
 should we be from advaneiug such a claim. If he 
 served the Lord with humility and many tears ; if 
 he appeared among the churches which he planted, 
 in fear, and in weakness, and with much trembling, 
 we may learn how possible it is to combine, with 
 true dignity, the most unasiuming deportment, and 
 the deepest conviction of our weakness and un- 
 worthiness, with a vigorous discharge of whatever 
 belongs to the apostolic much more to the pastoral 
 office. The proper use to be made of such consid- 
 erations as have now been suggested is, to stir up the 
 gift which is in ws, to apply ourselves to our work 
 I with becoming resolution, and anticipate, in depend- 
 ance on the divine blessing, important effects. The 
 moment we permit ourselves to think lightly of the 
 Christian ministry, our right arm is withered ; no- 
 thing but imbecility and relaxation remains. For no 
 man ever excelled in a profession to which he did 
 not feel an attachment bordering on enthusiasm ; 
 though what in other professions is enthusiasm, isj 
 in ours, the dictate of sobriety and truth. 
 
 5. Recollect for your encouragement, the reward 
 that awaits the faithful minister. Such is the mys- 
 terious condescension of divine grace, that although 
 it reserves to itself the exclusive honour of being 
 the fountain of all, yet, by the employment of hu- 
 man agency in the completion of its designs, it con- 
 trives to multiply its gifts, and to lay a foundation 
 for eternal rewards. When the church, in the per- 
 
263 
 
 fection of beauty, shall be presented to Christ, as a 
 bride adorned for her husband, tha faithful pastor 
 will appear as the friend of the bridegroom, who 
 greatly rejoices because of the bridegroom^s voice. 
 His joy will be tlie joy of his Lord, inferior in de- 
 gree, but of the same nature, and arising from the 
 same sources : while he will have the peculiar hap- 
 piness of reflecting that he has contributed to it ; 
 contributed, as an humble instrument, to that glory 
 and felicity of which he will be conscious he is ut- 
 terly unworthy to partake. To have been himself 
 the object of mercy, to have been the means of im- 
 parting it to others, and of dispensing the unsearch- 
 able, riches of Christ, will produce a pleasure which 
 can never be adequately felt or understood, until 
 we see him as he is. From that oneness of spirit, 
 from that inseparable conjunction of interest, which 
 will then be experienced in its utmost extent, will 
 arise a capacity of sharing the triumph of the Re- 
 deemer, and of participating in the delight with 
 which he will survey his finished work, when a new 
 and fairer creation shall arise out of the ruins of 
 the first. And is this the end, he will exclaim, of 
 all my labours, my toils, and watchings, my expos- 
 tulation with sinners, and my efforts to console the 
 faithful ! and is this the issue of that ministry under 
 which I was often ready to sink ! and this the glo- 
 ry, of which I heard so much, understood so little, 
 and announced to my hearers with lisping accents, 
 and a stammering tongue ! well might it be styled 
 
S61 
 
 tlie glory to he revealed. Auspicious day ! on 
 which I embarked in this undertaking, on which 
 the love of Christ, with a sweet and sacred violence, 
 impelled me to feed his sheep and to feed his lambs. 
 With what emotion shall we, who being entrusted 
 with so holy a ministry, shall find mercy to be faith- 
 ful, hear that voice from heaven. Rejoice and be 
 glad, and give honour to him / for the marriage of 
 the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself 
 ready/ With what rapture shall we recognize, 
 amidst an innumerable multitude, the seals of our 
 ministry, the persons whom we have been the means 
 of conducting to that glory ! 
 
 Hence we discern the futility of the objection 
 against the doctrine of future rewards, drawn from 
 an apprehension, that to be actuated by such a 
 motive, argues a mean and mercenary disposition ; 
 since the reward to which we aspire, in this instance 
 at least, grows out of the employment in which wc 
 are engaged, and will consist in enjoyments which 
 can only be felt and perceived by a refined and 
 elevated spirit. The success of our undertaking 
 will, in reality, reward itself, by the complete 
 gratification it will afl:ord to the sentiments of devo- 
 tion and benevolence, which, in their highest per- 
 fection, form the principal ingredient in future 
 felicity. To have co-operated in any degree to- 
 wards the accomplishment of that purpose of the 
 j}eiiy, to reconcile all things to himself, by reduc- 
 
SG5 
 
 ing tlicm to the obedience of his Sou : which is the 
 ultimate end of all his works ; to be the means of re- 
 covering, though it were but an inconsiderable 
 portion of a lapsed and degenerate race to eternal 
 happiness, will yield a satisfaction exactly com- 
 mensurate to the force of our benevolent seutiments, 
 and the degree of our loyal attachment to the Su- 
 preme Potentate. The consequences involved in 
 saving a soul from death, and hiding a multiUide of 
 sins, will be duly appreciated in that world where 
 the worth of souls, and the malignity of sin, are 
 fully understood ; while, to extend the triumphs of 
 the Redeemer, by forming him in the hearts of men, 
 will produce a transport which can only be equal- 
 led by the gratitude and love we shall feel towards 
 the Source of all our good. 
 
 Before I close this discourse, which has, per- 
 liaps, already detained you too long, let me suggest 
 one reflection which so naturally arises from the 
 view we have taken of the ministerial office, that I 
 cannot think it right to pass it over in silence. The 
 consideration to whicii we allude, respects the ad- 
 vantages possessed by the Christian minister for 
 the cultivation of personal piety. Blessed is the 
 man, said the royal Psalmist, whom thou choosestf 
 and caiisest to approach unto thee : blessed are they 
 who dwell in thy house, they will he still praising thee. 
 If he was so strongly ioipressed with a convic- 
 tion of the high privilege annexed to the priesthood, 
 
 31i 
 
S66 
 
 by virtue of its being allowed a nearer approach 
 to God, in the services of tlie sanctuary, the situa- 
 tion of a Christian minister is not less distinguished, 
 nor less desirable It is the only one, in which 
 our general calling as Christians, and our particu- , 
 lar calling as men, perfectly coincide. In a life 
 occupif'd in actions that terminate in the present 
 moment, and in cares and pursuits, extremely dis- 
 proportionate to the dignity of our nature, but 
 rendered necessary by the imperfection of our 
 state ; it is but little of their time that the greater 
 part of mankind can devote to the direct and im- 
 mediate pursuit of their eternal interests, A few 
 remnants, snatched from the business of life, is all 
 that most can bestow. In our profession, the full 
 force and vigour of the mind may be exerted on 
 that which will employ it for ever ; on religion, 
 the final centre of repose; the goal to which all 
 things tendj which gives to time all its importance, 
 to eternity all its glory: apart from which man is 
 a sliadow, his very existence a riddle, and the 
 stupendous scenes which surround liim, as inco- 
 herent and unmeaning as the leaves which the 
 Sybil scattered in the wind. Our inaptitude to be 
 affected in any measure proportioned to the intrinsic 
 value of the interest in which we are concerned, and 
 the objects with which we are conversant, is partly 
 to lie ascribed to the corruption of nature, partly to 
 the limitation of our faculties. As far as this dis- 
 proportion is capable of being corrected, the pur- 
 
207 
 
 suits connected with our office, are unquestionably 
 be.st adapted to that purpose, by closely fixing the 
 attention on objects, which can never be contemn- 
 cd, but in consequence of being forgotten ; nor 
 ever surveyed with attention, without filling th« 
 whole sphere of vision. Though the scene of our 
 labour is on earth, the things to which it relates 
 subsist in eternity. We can give no account of 
 our office, much less discharge any branch of it 
 with propriety and eifect, without adverting to a 
 future state of being; while in a happy exemption 
 from the tumultuous cares of life, our only concern 
 with mankind, as far as it respects our official 
 character, is to promote their everlasting welfare : 
 our only business on earth, the very same that em- 
 ploys those exalted spirits, who are sent forth on 
 embassies of mercy, to minister to them who shall 
 be heirs of salvation. Our duties and pursuits are 
 distinguished from all others by their immediate re- 
 lation to the ultimate end of human existence; so 
 that while secular employments can be rendered in- 
 nocent only by an extreme care to avoid the pollu- 
 tions which they are so liable to contract, the ministe- 
 rial functions bear an indelible impress of sanctity. 
 The purposes accomplished by the uiinistry of the 
 gospel, in the restoration of a i\illeu creature to the 
 image of bis Maker, are not among the things ichich 
 were made for man : they are the things {^r ivhich 
 man teas made ; since, without regard to time or 
 place, they arc essential to his perfection and hap- 
 
268 
 
 pinesis. How much of heaven is naturally connect- 
 ed with an office whose sole purpose is to conduct 
 man thither! and what a superiority to the love of the 
 world may be expected from men who are appoint- 
 ed to publish that dispensation which reveals its 
 danger, detects its vanity, rebukes its disorders, 
 and foretels its destruction ! 
 
 He must know little of the world, and still less 
 of his own heart, who is not aware how difficult 
 it is, amidst the corrupting examples with which it 
 abounds, to maintain the spirit of devotion unim- 
 paired, or to preserve, in their due force and deli- 
 cacy, these vivid moral impressions, that quick 
 perception of good, and instinctive abhorrence of 
 evil, which form the chief characteristic of a pure 
 and elevated mind. These, like the morning dew, 
 are easily bruslied off in the collisions of worldly 
 interest, or exhaled by the meridian sun. Hence 
 the necessity of frequent intervals of retirement, 
 when the mind may recover its scattered powers, 
 and renew its strength by a devout application to 
 the Fountain of all grace. 
 
 To the ordinary occupations of life we are rather 
 indebted for the triil of our virtue, than for the 
 matter, or the motive ; and, however criminal it 
 would h^^ to neglect them, in our present state, 
 they can ottly be reduced under the dominion of 
 icligion, by a general intention of pleasing God, 
 
S69 
 
 But, in carrying into effect the designs of the gos 
 pel, we are communicating that pure element of 
 good, which, like the solar light, pervades every 
 part of the universe, and forms, there is every 
 reason to believe, the most essential ingredient in 
 the felicity of all created beings. 
 
 If in the actual commerce of the world, the no- 
 blest principles are often sacrificed to mean expe- 
 dients, and the rules of moral rectitude made to 
 bend to the indulgence of vain and criminal pas- 
 sions, how happy for us that we are under the ne- 
 cessity of contemplating them in th»^ir abs^tiact gran- 
 deur, of viewing them a^ an emaaation of the divine 
 beauty ; as the immutable law ^f the creation, era- 
 bodied in the character of the Saviour, and illustrat- 
 ed in the elevated sentiments, the holy lives, and 
 triumphant deaths, of prophets, saints and martyrs. 
 IVe are called, every moment, to ascend to first 
 principles, to stand in the coimcil of God and to im- 
 bibe the dictates of celestial wisdom in ih^'iv first 
 communication, before they become debased, and 
 contaminated by a mixture with grosser elements. 
 
 The bane of human happiness is ordinarily not 
 so much an absolute ignorance of what is best, a.^ 
 an inattention to it, accompanied with an habit of 
 not adverting to prospects the most certain, and the 
 most awful. But how can we be supposed to con- 
 tract this inadvertence, who are incessantly engag- 
 
870 
 
 ed in placing truth in every possible light, tracing 
 it in its utmost extent, and exhibiting it in all its ev- 
 idence ? Can we be supposed to forget that day., and 
 that hour, of which no man knoweth, who are sta- 
 tioned as watchmen to give the alarm, to announce 
 the first symptoms of danger, and to cry in the ears 
 of a sleeping world, '* behold the bridegroom com- 
 eth :" or, however inattentive others may be to the 
 approach of our Lord, can it ever vanish from our 
 minds, who are detained by him in his sanctuary, 
 on purpose to preserve it pure, to trim the golden 
 lamps, and maintain the hallowed fire, that he may 
 find nothing neglected, or in disorder, when he shall 
 suddenly come to his temple, even the messenger 
 of the covenant whom we delight in P 
 
 Men are ruined in their eternal interests, by 
 failing to look within ; by being so absorbed in 
 the pursuit of external good, as to neglect the state 
 of their hearts. But can this be supposed to be the 
 case with us, who must never hope to discharge our 
 office with effect, without an intimate acquaintance 
 with the inward man — without tracing the secret 
 operations of nature and of grace — without closely 
 inspecting the causes of revival, and of decay, in the 
 spiritual life, and detecting the most secret springs, 
 and sable artifices of temptation; in all which, we 
 shall be successful, just in proportion to the degree 
 of devout attention we bestow on the movements of 
 our own minds. 
 
371 
 
 Men are ruined in their eternal interests by liv 
 ing as though they were their own, and neglecting 
 to realize the certainty of a future account. But it 
 must surely require no small effort, to divert our 
 attention from this truth, who have not only tlie 
 same interest in it with others, hut in consequence 
 of the care of souls, possess a responsibility of a 
 distinct and awful character ; since not one of those 
 to whom that care extends, can fall short of salva- 
 tion through our neglect, or default, but his blood 
 will be required at our hands. Where, in short, can 
 we turn our eyes, without meeting with incentives 
 to piety ; what part of tlie sacred function can we 
 touch, which will not remind us of the beauty of 
 holiness, the evil of sin, and the emptiness of all 
 sublunary good ; or, where we shall not find our- 
 selves in a temple, resounding with awful voices, 
 and filled with holy inspirations? 
 
 I feel a pleasing conviction, that, in consequence 
 of deriving from your ministry that spiritual aid it is 
 so adapted to impart, both your piety and useful- 
 ness will continue to increase, and by being inti- 
 mately incorporated, aid and strengthen each other : 
 so that your profiting shall appear unto all men, 
 and while you are watering others, you yourself 
 shall be abundantly watered of God. Thus will 
 you be enabled to adopt the language of the belov- 
 ed Apostle, That which we have heard, which we 
 have seen with our eyes, which we have loolced 
 
S73 
 
 tipon, and our hands have handled of the wofd of 
 life, declare we unto you. Thus will you possess 
 that unction, from which your hearers cannot fail, 
 under the divine blessing, of reaping the highest 
 benefit ; for while we are exploring the mines of 
 revelation, for the purpose of exhibiting to mankind 
 the unsearchable riches of Christ, we are not in the 
 situation of those unhappy men, who merely toil 
 for the advantage of others, and dare not appropri- 
 ate to themselves an atom of that precious ore, on 
 which their labour is employed : we are permitted 
 and invited, first to enrich ourselves, and the more 
 we appropriate, the njore shall we impart. It is 
 my earnest prayer, my dear brother, that you may 
 feed the church of the Lord which he has purchased 
 with his own blood ,* that you may make full proof 
 of your ministry; be instant in season and out of 
 season ; teach, exhort, and rebuke, ivith all long- 
 suffering and authority. Then, should you be spar- 
 ed to your flock, you will witness the fruit of your 
 labours in a spiritual plantation, growing under 
 your hand, adorned with trees of righteousness, the 
 planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified ; and 
 while neglecting worldly considerations, you are 
 intent on the high ends of your calling, inferior sat- 
 isfactions will not be wanting, but you will meet, 
 among the seals of your ministry, with fathers and 
 motliers, sisters and brothers. Or should your ca- 
 reer be prematurely cut short, you will have lived 
 long enou£;h to answer the purposes of your being, 
 
373 
 
 and to leave a record in the consciences of your 
 hearers, which will not suffer you soon to be for- 
 gotten. Though dead, you will still speak ; you 
 will speak from the tomb ; it may be, in accents 
 more powerful and persuasive, than your living 
 voice could command.* 
 
 * Of this we have a striking instance in the premature death of the 
 late Mr. Spencer, of Liverpool. The sensition excited by the sudden 
 removal of that extraordinary young man, accompanied with such affect- 
 ing' circumstances, has not subsided, nor abated as we are informed, 
 much of its force. The event which has drawn so great a degree of atten- 
 tion, has been well improved in several excellent discourses on the occa- 
 sion. The unequalled admiration he excited while living, and the deep 
 and universal concern expressed at his death, demonstrate him to have 
 been no ordinary chai-acter; but one of these rare specimens of human 
 nature, which the great Author of it produces at distant intervals, and 
 exhibits for a moment, while he is hastening to make them up amongst 
 his jewels. The higli hopes entertai&ed of this admirable youth, and the 
 sliock approaching^ to consternation, occasioned by his death, will, proba* 
 bly, remind the classical reader of the inimitable lines of Virgil on Mar- 
 cellus. 
 
 O nate, ingentem luctum ne quaere tuorum. 
 
 Ostendent terris hunc tantum fata, neque ultra 
 
 Esse sinent. 
 
 The writer of this deeply regrets his never having had an opportunity 
 of witnessing his extraordinary powers ; but from all he has heard froijn 
 the best judges, he can entertain no doubt, that his talents in the pulpit 
 were unrivalled, and that had his life been spared, he would, in all pro- 
 bability, have carried the talent of preaching to a greater perfection 
 than it ever attained, at least, in this kingdom. His eloquence appears 
 to have been of the purest stamp, effective, not ostentatious, consisting 
 less in the striking preponderance of any one quality, requisite to form a 
 public speaker, than in an exquisite combination of them all; whence 
 rtsulted an extraordinary power of impression, which was greatly aided 
 by a natural and majestic elocution. To these eminent endowments, Ire 
 
 35 
 
added, from the unanimous testimony of those who knew him best, » hu- 
 mility and modesty ; which, while they concealed a great part of his 
 excellencies from himself, rendered them the more engaging and attrac- 
 tive. When we reflect on these circumstances, we need the leis wonder 
 at the passionate concern excited by his death. For it may truly be said, 
 of him, as of St. Stephen, that devout men made great lamentation over 
 him. May the impressions produced by the event never be effaced ; and 
 above all, may it have the effect of engaging such as arc embarked in the 
 Christian ministry, to toork rvhile it i« called to-day. 
 
THE WORK 
 
 THE HOLY SPIRIT. 
 
 BY ROBERT HALL, A. M. 
 
 FROM THE LATEST LONDON EDITION. 
 
THE WORK 
 
 THE HOLY SPIRIT. 
 
 1 HE regeneration and growth in holiness, of every 
 Christian, are to be primarily attributed to the ope- 
 ration of the Holy Spirit. Without this, nothing 
 can be done or attained, to any important purpose, 
 in religion. Your candid attention is requested 
 to a few hints respecting the means connected 
 with the enjoyment of that blessed influence. The 
 numerous cautions, warnings, and advices with 
 which the mention of this subject is joined in the 
 sacred writings, suflBce to show that the doctrine 
 of which it treats is a practical doctrine, not design- 
 ed to supersede the use of means, or the exercise 
 of our rational powers, but rather to stimulate us 
 to exertion, and teach us how to exert them aright. 
 *^ If ye live in the Spirit, walk in the Spirit. 
 Grieve not the Holy Spirit of God, whereby ye arc 
 sealed to the day of redemption." 
 
 The Spirit, we must remember, is a most free 
 Agent, and though he will not utterly forsake the 
 
S78 
 
 work of his hands, he may be expected to with- 
 draw himself, in a great measure, on being slighted, 
 neglected, or opposed ; and as our holiness and com- 
 fort depend entirely upon him, it is important for 
 us to know what deportment is calculated to invite, 
 and what to repel, his presence. 
 
 1. If we would wish for much of the presence of 
 God by his Spirit, we must learn to set a high va- 
 lue upon it. The first communication of spiritual 
 influence, is, indeed, imparted without this requi- 
 site ; for it cannot be possessed in any adequate 
 degree except by those who have tasted that the 
 Lord is gracious. " I am found of them that 
 sought me not." But in subsequent donations, the 
 Lord seems very much to regulate his conduct by 
 a rule — that of bestowing his richest favours where 
 he knows they are most coveted, and will be most 
 prized. The principle whence divine communica- 
 tions flow, is free unmerited benignity ; but in the 
 mode of dispensing its fruits, it is worthy of the Su- 
 preme Ruler to consult his own majesty, by with- 
 liolding a copious supply, till he has excited in the 
 heart a profound estimation of his gifts. 
 
 No words are adequate to express the excel- 
 lence and dignity of the gift of the Divine Spirit. 
 While Solomon was dedicating the temple, his great 
 soul appears to have been put into a rapture at the 
 very idea that he whom the heaven of heavens could 
 
S79 
 
 not contain should deign to dwell with man upon 
 the earth. How much more should each of us be 
 transported when he finds the idea realized, by his 
 own heart having become the seat of the divine 
 presence. There are two considerations drawn 
 from Scripture, which assist us in forming a con- 
 ception of the magnitude of this blessing. 
 
 The first is, that it is the great promise of the 
 christian dispensation, and stands in nearly the 
 same relation to us, that the coming of the Mes- 
 siah did to pious Jews. They waited for the con- 
 solation of Israel in the birth of Christ ; and now 
 that that event is past, we are waiting, in a similar 
 manner, for the promise of the Spirit, of which the 
 church has hitherto enjoyed but the first fruits. 
 To this the Saviour, after his resurrection, pointed 
 the expectation of his apostles, as emphatically the 
 promise of the Father, which they were to receive 
 at the distance of a few days ; and when it was 
 accomplished at the day of Pentecost, we find Peter 
 insisting on it as the most illustrious proof of his 
 ascension, as well as the chfef fruit that converts 
 were to reap from their repentance and baptism. 
 " Repent and be baptized," said he, " every one of 
 you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission 
 of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy 
 Ghost : for the promise (that is, the promise of the 
 Spirit) is to you, and to your children, and to all 
 that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our 
 
§80 
 
 God shall call.*' The apostle Paul places it in a 
 similar light, when he tells us, " Christ has re- 
 deemed us from the curse of the law, being made 
 a curse for us, that the blessing of Abraham might 
 come upon the Gentiles :'' and in what that bless- 
 ing consists, he informs us, by adding, " that we 
 might receive the promise of the Spirit by faith." 
 On this account, probably, he is styled the Spirit 
 of promise, that is, the Spirit so often promised ; 
 in the communication of whom, the promises of God 
 so centre, that it may be considered as the sum and 
 substance of all the promises. 
 
 Another consideration, which evinces the su- 
 preme importance of this gift, is, that, in the esteem 
 of our Lord, it was more than a compensation to 
 his disciples for the loss of his bodily presence ; 
 so much superior to it, that he tells them, it was ex- 
 pedient he should leave them in order to make way 
 for it : " If I go not away, the C3timforter will not 
 come unto you ; but if I depart, I will send him 
 unto you." Great as the advantages were, which 
 they derived from his society, yet they remained 
 in a slate of minority ; their views were contracted, 
 their hearts full of earthly adhesions, and a degree 
 of carnality and prejudice attended them, which it 
 was the office of t!ie Spirit only to remove. From 
 his more ample and effectual teaching, a great in- 
 crease of knowledge was to accrue, to qualify them 
 for their work of bearing witness to Christ, and a 
 
281 
 
 powerful energy to go forth, wliieli was to render 
 their ministry, though in themselves so much infe- 
 rior, far more successful than the personal ministry 
 of our Lord. In consequence of liis agency, the 
 apostles were to become enlightened and intrepid, 
 and the world convinced. " I have many things 
 to say to you, but ye cannot bear them now. But 
 when the Spirit of truth is come, he will lead you 
 into all truth. He will convince the world of sin, 
 of righteousness, and of judgment." Accordingly, 
 after his descent, we find the apostles strangely 
 transformed : an unction, a fervour, a boldness, 
 marked their character, to which they had hitherto 
 been strangers ; and such conviction attended their 
 preaching, that in a short time a great part of the 
 world sunk under the weapons of their holy war- 
 fare. Nor is there any pretence for alleging, that 
 this communication was confined to miraculous sifts, 
 since it is asserted to be that Spirit which should 
 abide in them for ever, and by which the church 
 should be distinguished from the world. He is 
 styled, " the Spirit of truth, whom the world could 
 not receive, because it seeth him not, neither know- 
 eth him :" but it is added, "Ye know him, for he 
 dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.'^ 
 
 As we are indebted to the Spirit for the first 
 formation of the divine life, so it is He who alone 
 can maintain it, and render it strong and vigorous. 
 It is his office to actuate the habits of grace where 
 
 36 
 
283 
 
 they are already planted ; to hold our souls in life, 
 and to " strengthen us that we may walk up and 
 down in the name of the Lord." It Is his oflSee to 
 present the mysteries of salvation ; the truths which 
 relate to the mediation of Christ and the riches of 
 his grace, in so penetrating and transforming a man- 
 ner, as to render them vital, operating principles, 
 the food and the solace of our spirits. Without his 
 agency, however intrinsically excellent, they will 
 be to us mere dead speculation, an inert mass : it is 
 only when they are animated by his breath, that 
 they become spirit and life. 
 
 It is his office to afford that anointing by which 
 we may know all things ; by a light which is not 
 merely directive to the understanding, but which so 
 shines upon the heart, as to give a relish of the 
 sweetness of divine truth, and effectually produce a 
 compliance with its dictates. It belongs to him 
 '^ to seal us to the day of redemption,'' to put that 
 mark and character upon us, which distinguishes 
 the children of God, as well as to afford a foretaste, 
 as an earnest of the future inheritance. ^^ And 
 hereby," saith an apostle, "vve know that we are 
 of God, by the Spirit which he hath given us." It 
 is his office to subdue the corruption of our nature, 
 not by leaving us inactive spectators of the combat, 
 but by engaging us to a determined resistance to ev- 
 ery sinful propensity, by teaching our hands to war, 
 and our fingers to fight, so that the victory shall be 
 
283 
 
 ours, and the praise bis. To lielp the infirmities of 
 saints, who know not what to pray for as they ought, 
 by making intercession for them '* with groaningi 
 which cannot he uttered," is an important branch 
 of his office. He kindles their desires, gives them 
 a glimpse of the fulness of God, that all-compre- 
 hending good : and by exciting a relish of the beau- 
 ties of holiness, and the ineffable pleasure which 
 springs from nearness to God, disposes them to the 
 fervent and effectual prayer which avail eth much. 
 In short, as Christ is the way to the Father, so it is 
 equally certain, that the Spirit is the fountain of 
 all the light and strength which enable us to walk 
 in that way. Lest it should be suspected that in 
 ascribing so much to the agency of the Spirit, we 
 diminish the obligations we owe to the Redeemer, 
 it may not be improper to remark, that the tendency 
 of what we have advanced, rightly understood, will 
 be just the contrary, since the Scriptures constant- 
 ly remind us, that the gift of the Holy Ghost is the 
 fruit of his mediation, and the result of iiis death. 
 It was his interposing as " Emmanuel, God with 
 us," to repair the breach betwixt man and God, that 
 prevailed upon the Father to communicate the 
 Spirit to such as believe on him, and to intrust the 
 whole agency of it to his hands. As the reward of 
 his sufferings, he ascended on high, and received 
 gifts for men ; of which, the right ol' bestowing the 
 Spirit is the principal, that the Lord God might 
 dwell among them. The donation, in every in 
 
284j 
 
 stance, through the successive periods "bf the 
 church, looks back to the death of the Redeemer, 
 as the root and principle whence it takes its rise, 
 and consequently is calculated to enlarge our con- 
 ceptions of his oifice and character, as the copious- 
 ness of the streams evinces the exuberance of the 
 fountain. To him the Spirit was first given above 
 measure ; in him it resides as an inexhaustible 
 spring, to be imparted in the dispensation of his 
 gospel to every member of his mystical body, in 
 pursuance of the purpose of his grace and th*e ends 
 of his death. It is his Spirit : hence we read of 
 " the supply of the Spirit of Christ Jesus," not 
 only by reason of the essential union which sub- 
 sists between the persons of the Godhead, but be- 
 cause the right of bestowing it was ascertained to 
 him in the covenant of redemption. 
 
 3. If we would wish to enjoy much of the light 
 and influence of the Spirit, we must seek it by 
 fervent prayer. There are peculiar encouragements 
 held out in the word of God to this purpose. " Ask, 
 and ye shall receive ; seek, and ye shall find ; 
 knock, and it shall be opened unto you.'' To il- 
 lustrate the readiness of our heavenly Father to 
 bestow this bles*sing, our Lord borrows a compari- 
 son from the instinct of paiental alfection, which 
 prompts a parent to give with alacrity good things 
 to his children. He will not merely supply their 
 wants, which benevolence might prompt him to do 
 
385 
 
 with respect to a stranger ; but lie will do it with 
 feelings peculiar to the parental relation, and will 
 experience as much pleasure in conferring as the 
 child in receiving, his favours. It is thus with 
 our heavenly Father : he delights in exercising 
 kindness to his children, and especially in promot- 
 ing their spiritual welfare. He gives not merely 
 with the liberality of a prince, but with the heart 
 of a father. It is worth remarking, that in relating 
 the preceding discourse, while one evangelist 
 makes express mention of the Spirit, another 
 speaks only of good things, intimating that the 
 communications of the Spirit comprehend what- 
 ever is good. Other things may, or may not, be 
 ultimately beneficial : they are eiiher of a doubtful 
 nature in themselves, or are rendered so by the 
 propensity our corruption gives us to abuse them. 
 But the influence of the Spirit, by its etficucy in 
 subduing that corruption, must be invariably bene- 
 ficial : it is such an immediate emanation from God, 
 the foundation of blessedness, that it can never fail 
 of being intrinsically, essentially, and eternally 
 good. It is also deserving onr attention, that the 
 injunction of seeking it by prayer, is prefaced by a 
 parable constructed on purpose to teach us the 
 propriety of urging our suit with importunity. In 
 imploring other gifts, (which we are at liberty to 
 do with submission,) it is still a great point of 
 duty to moderate our desires, and to be prepared 
 for a disappointment; because, as we have already 
 
286 
 
 remarked, it is possible that the things we are 
 seeking, may conduce neither to the glory of God, 
 nor to our ultimate benefit; "for wbo knoweth 
 what is good for man in this life all the days of 
 his vain life ?" But when we present our requests 
 for a larger measure of his grace, we labour under 
 no such uncertainty, we may safely let forth all the 
 ardour and vehemence of our spirits, since our de- 
 sires are fixed upon what is the very knot and junc- 
 ture, where the honour of God and the interests of 
 his creatures are indissolubly united. Desires after 
 grace are, in fact, desires after God : and how is it 
 possible for them to be too vehement or intense, when 
 directed to such an object ? His gracious presence 
 is not, like the limited goods of this life, fitted to a 
 particular crisis, or adapted to a special exigency, in 
 a fluctuating scene of things ; it is equally suited to 
 all times and seasons, the food of souls, the proper 
 good of man, under every aspect of Providence, and 
 every change of worlds. " My soul," said David, 
 " panteth after God, yea, for the living God. My 
 soul followeth hard after thee : thy right hand up- 
 holdeth me." The most eminent effusions of the 
 Spirit we read of in scripture, were not only afforded 
 to prayer, but appear to have taken place at the 
 very time that that exercise was performed. The 
 descent of the Holy Ghost, on the day of Pentecost, 
 was while the disciples were with one accord in one 
 place ; and after the imprisonment of Peter and 
 John, whoj being dismissed; went to their own com- 
 
JS87 
 
 pany. *' While they prayed, the place were they 
 were assemhled was shaken with a mighty wind, 
 and they were all filled with the Holy Ghost." — 
 When a new heart and a new spirit are promised in 
 Ezekiel, it is added, " I will yet for this he inquir- 
 ed of by the House of Israel, to do it for them/' 
 
 3. Habitual dependence on divine influence is 
 an important duty. This may be considered as op- 
 posed to two things ; first, to depending off ourselves, 
 to the neglect of divine agency ; next, to despon- 
 dency and distrust. 
 
 When the Holy Spirit has condescended to take 
 the conduct of souls, it is unquestionably great 
 presumption to enter upon duty in the same manner 
 as if no such assistance were needed, or to be ex- 
 pected ; and the result will be as with Samson, 
 who said, " I will go forth and shake myself, as in 
 time past ; and he wist not that the Lord was depart- 
 ed from him." It is one thing to acknowledge a 
 dependence on heavenly influence in speculation, 
 and another thing so to realize and feel it, as to say 
 from the heart, " I will go in the strength of the 
 Lord God." A mere assent to the proposition, 
 that the Spirit must concur in the production of 
 every great work, (an assent not easily withheld 
 without rejecting the scriptures,) falls very short 
 of the practical homage due from feel)le worms to 
 so great an Agent: and a most solemn and explicit 
 
S88 
 
 acknowleclgment of entire dependence may rea- 
 sonably be expected. When you engage in prayer, 
 or in any other duty, endeavour to enter upon it 
 with a serious and deliberate recollection of your 
 need of the spirit. Let the consciousness of your 
 weakness and insufficiency for every good work, 
 be a sentiment rendered familiar to your minds, and 
 deeply impressed on your hearts. 
 
 But while we recommend this, there is another 
 extreme against which we think it our duty to guard 
 you, and that is a disposition to despondency and 
 distrust. We are most ready to acknowledge that 
 the assistance you need is free and gratuitous, neither 
 given to our deservings, nor flowing from any con- 
 nection subsisting betwixt our endeavours and the 
 exertion of divine agency. The spirit of God is a 
 free spirit ; and it is impossible to conceive how 
 either faith or prayer should have an intrinsic efl&cacy 
 in drawing down influence from heaven. There is, 
 however, a connection established by divine voueh- 
 safement, which entitles believers to expect, in the 
 use of means, such measures of gracious assistance 
 as are requisite to sustain and support them in their 
 religious course. The Spirit is spoken of as the 
 matter of promise to which every christian is encou- 
 raged to look : " The promise is to you, and to your 
 children, and to all that are afar off, even to as many 
 as the Lord our God shall call." Agreeably to this, 
 it is represented as the express purpose of Christ^* 
 
289 
 
 I)ecomiug a curse for us, that the ^* promise of the 
 Spirit might come on the Gentiles through faith." 
 The same expectation is justified by the Saviour's 
 own declaration, when on the last and great day of 
 the feast he stood and cried, ^' Whoever is atliirst, 
 let him come unto me and drink, for he tliat believeth 
 on me, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living 
 water : this" (says the Evangelist.) ^* he spake of 
 the Spirit, which they that believe on him should 
 receive." 
 
 The readiness of the Holy Spirit to communicate 
 himself to true believers, is also evinced by the tenor 
 of evangelical precepts : '^ Be ye strong in the Lord, 
 and in the power of liis might." To command a 
 person to be strong, seems strange and unusual lan- 
 guage, but is sufficiently explained when we reflect, 
 that a portion of spiritual power is ready to be com- 
 municated to those who duly seek it : *^Be ye filled 
 with the Spirit," which is the exhortation of the 
 same apostle, takes it for granted that a copious sup- 
 ply is at hand, sufficient to satiate the desires of the 
 saints. We are at a loss to account for such pre- 
 cepts, without supposing an established connecUoii 
 betwixt the condition of believers and the farther 
 communication of divine influence. To the same 
 purport, Paul speaks with apostolic authority, 
 '• This, I say, walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not 
 fulfil the lusts of the flesh ;" and Jude incnlcaHs the 
 duty of praying in the Holy Ghost, which would he 
 
 37 
 
290 
 
 strange if no assistance were to be obtained ; and a» 
 prayer is a duty of daily occurrence, the injunction 
 implies that it is ready to be imparted to Christians^ 
 not by fits and starts, or at distant intervals, but in 
 a stated regular course. 
 
 For this reason, when we hear Christians com- 
 plaining of the habitual withdrawment of the Di- 
 vine Presence, we are under the necessity of as- 
 cribing it to their own fault : not that we mean to 
 deny there is much of sovereignty in this affair, or 
 that " the Spirit, like the wind, bloweth where it 
 listetb." But it should be remembered, we are 
 now adverting to the situation of real believers, who 
 are entitled to the promise ; and though it is proba- 
 ble that there is much of sovereignty exercised 
 even with respect to tJiem, we apprehend it rather 
 concerns those influences which are consolatory 
 ihan such as are sanctifying ; though there is a de- 
 gree of satisfaction intermingled with every exer- 
 cise of genuine piety, yet it is manifest that some 
 influences of the Spirit tend more immediately to 
 comfort, others to purification. By some we are 
 engaged in the fixed contemplation of objects which 
 exist out of ourselves, the perfections of God, the 
 excellency of Christ, the admirable constitution of 
 the Gospel, accompanied with a delightful connec- 
 tion of a personal interest in whatever comes under 
 our view ; the natural food of which is •* joy un- 
 speakable and full of glory." By otheri we are 
 
29i 
 
 more immediately impressed with a lasting sense 
 of our extreme unworthiness, and made to mourn 
 over remaining corruption, and the criminal defects 
 inherent in our best services. 
 
 In the midst of such exercises, it is possible that 
 hope may languish and comfort be reduced to a low 
 ebb, yet the divine life may still be advancing, and 
 the soul growing in humility, deadness to the world 
 and the mortification of her own will, as the sap 
 during winter retires to the root of the plant, ready 
 to ascend and produce verdure and beauty on the 
 return of spring. Tliis is the will of God, even our 
 eanctification ; and though be delights in comforting 
 his people at proper seasons, he is much less intent 
 on this than on promoting their spiritual improve- 
 ment, to which in this their probationary state every 
 thing is made subservient. Let us not then con- 
 found the decay of consolation with the decay of 
 piety, nor imagine we can want the aids necessary 
 to prevent the latter, unless we have forfeited them 
 by presumption, negligence, and slotli. Whenever 
 Christians sensibly decline in religion, they ought 
 to charge themselves with the guilt of having griev- 
 ed the Spirit ; they should take the alarm, repent, 
 and do their first works ; they are suffering under 
 the rebukes of that paternal justice which God ex- 
 ercises in his own family. Such a measure of gra- 
 cious assistance in the use of means, being by the 
 tenor of the new covenant ascertained to real Chris- 
 
892 
 
 tians, as is requisite for their comfortable walk with 
 Goa, 10 find it withheld should engage them in 
 deep searciiings of heart, and make them fear lest, 
 " a promise being left them of entering into rest, 
 they should appear to come short of it.'' But this 
 leads us to observe, in the last place, that, 
 
 4. If we wish to enjoy the light of the Spirit, 
 we must take care to maintain a deportment suited 
 to the character of that Divine Agent. When the 
 apostle exhorts us not to grieve the Spirit of God, 
 by which we are sealed to the day of redemption, 
 it is forcibly implied, that he is susceptible of of- 
 fence, and that to offend him involves heinous in- 
 gratitude and folly : ingratitude, for what a re- 
 quital is this for being sealed to the day of redemp- 
 tion ! and folly, inasmuch as we may fitly say on 
 this, as Paul did on a different occasion, *' Who 
 is he that maketh us glad, but the same that is 
 made sorry by us?" Have we any other com- 
 forter when he is withdrawn ? Can a single ray 
 of light visit us in his absence, or can we be safe 
 for a moment without his guidance and support? 
 If the immense and infinite Spirit, by a mysterious 
 condescension, deigns to undertake the conduct of 
 a worm, ought it not to yield the most implicit 
 submission ? The appropriate duty owing to a 
 faithful and experienced guide, is a ready compli- 
 ance with his dictates: and how much more may 
 this be expected, when the disparity betwixt the 
 
SOS 
 
 parties in question is no less than infinite ! The 
 language of the Holy Spirit, in describing the 
 manners of the ancient Israelites, is awfully moni- 
 tory to professors in every age ; " They rebelletl, 
 and vexed his Holy Spirit ; therefore he turned to 
 be their enemy, and fought against them.'' As we 
 wish to avoid whatever is more curious than useful^ 
 we shall not stay to inquire precisely on what 
 occasions, or to what extent, the Spirit is capable 
 of being resisted : it may be sufficient to observe, 
 it is evident from melancholy experience, that it is 
 very possible to neglect what is the obvious tenden- 
 cy of his motions, which is invariably to produce 
 universal holiness. ^' The fruit of the Spirit is 
 love, joy, peace, long-suffering, goodness, meek- 
 ness, gentleness, temperance, faith :" whatever is 
 contrary to these, involves an opposition to the 
 Spirit, and is directly calculated to quench his 
 sacred influence. 
 
 From his descending on Christ in the form of 
 a dove, as well as from many express decla- 
 rations of Scripture, we may with certainty con- 
 clude the indulgence of all the irascible and malig- 
 nant passions to be peculiarly repugnant to his 
 nature; and it is remarkable, that the injunction of 
 not grieving the Holy Spirit is immediately follow- 
 ed by a particular caution against cherishing such 
 dispositions : " Let all bitterness, and wrath, and 
 anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put 
 
S94 
 
 away from you, with all malice. And be ye kind 
 one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one 
 another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven 
 you." Have you not fo^ind by experience, that 
 the indulgence of the former has destroyed that 
 self- recollection and composure, which are so es- 
 sential to devotion ? Vindictive passions surround 
 the soul with a sort of turbulent atmosphere, than 
 which nothing can be conceived more opposite to 
 that calm and holy light in which the blessed Spirit 
 loves to dwell. The indulgence of sensual lusts, 
 or of whatever enslaves the soul to the appetites of 
 the body, in violation of the rules of sobriety and 
 chastity, it seems almost unnecessary to add, must 
 have a direct tendency to quench his sacred influ- 
 ences ; wherever such desires prevail, they war 
 against the soul, immerse it in carnality, and ut- 
 terly indispose it to every thing spiritual and 
 heavenly. *' That which is born of the Spirit is 
 spirit ;" it bears a resemblance to its Author in 
 being a spiritual production, which requires to be 
 nourished by divine meditation, by pure and holy 
 thoughts. 
 
 If you wish to live in the fellowship of the Spirit, 
 you must guard with no less care against the en- 
 croachments of worldly-mindedness, recollecting we 
 are Christians just as far as our treasure and our 
 hearts are planted in heaven, and no further. A 
 heart overcharged with the cares of this world, is as 
 
S95 
 
 much disqualified for converse witli God, and for 
 walking in the Spirit, as it would be by surfeiting 
 and drunkenness ; to which, by their tendency to 
 intoxicate and stupify, they bear a great resem- 
 blance. ' 
 
 How many, by an immoderate attachment to 
 wealth, and by being determined at all events to j 
 become rich, " have fallen into divers foolish and I 
 hurtful lusts, and pierced themselves through with | 
 many sorrows ;" and where the result has uot been 
 so signally disastrous, a visible languor in religion 
 has ensued, the friendship of serious Christians hag 
 been shunned, and the public ordinances of religioii 
 attended with little fruit or advantage ! As it is the 
 design of the Spirit in his sacred visitations to foriji 
 us for an habitual converse with spiritual and eter- 
 nal objects, nothing can tend more directly to coi- 
 tract it, than to bury our souls in earth ; it is as im- 
 possible for the eye of the mind as for that of tlie 
 body to look opposite ways at once ; nor can ^e 
 aim supremely at " the things which are seen aintl 
 temporal," but by losing sight of those •' which are 
 unseen and eternal." 1 
 
 But though a general attention to the dutiejs of 
 piety and virtue, and a careful avoidance o^ the 
 sins opposed to these, arc certainly includedjin a 
 becoming deportment to the Holy Spirit, pej'haps 
 it is not all that is included. The chikhen o^ God 
 
396 
 
 arc characterized in Scripture by their beiug " let! 
 by the Spirit:"* led, evidently not impelled, nor 
 driven forward in a headlong course, without choice 
 or design ; but, being, by the constitution of their 
 nature, rational and intelligent, and by the influ- 
 ence of grace, rendered spiritual, they are disposed 
 to obey at a touch, and to comply with the gentler 
 insinuations of divine grace ; they are ready to 
 take that precise impression which corresponds 
 w ith the mind and purpose of tlie Spirit. You are 
 aware of what consequence it is in worldly concerns 
 to embrace opportunities, and to improve critical 
 seasons ; and thus, in the things of the Spirit, there 
 ire times peculiarly favourable, moments of happy 
 Tisitation, where much more may be done towards 
 the advancement of our spiritual interest than usual. 
 There are gales of the Spirit, unexpected influences 
 of light and of power, which no assiduity in the 
 means of grace can command, but which it is a great 
 piiint of wisdom to improve. If the husbandman is 
 attentive to the vicissitudes of weather, and the 
 face of the sky, that he may be prepared to take t!ie 
 full benefit of every gleam of sunshine, and every 
 falling shower, how much more alert and attentive 
 should we be, in watching for those influences from 
 above, which are necessary to ripen and mature a 
 far more precious crop ! As the natural consequencei 
 of being long under the guidance of another, is a 
 quick perception of his meaning, so that we can 
 meet his wishes, before they arc verbally expressed } 
 
S97 
 
 something of this ready discernment, accompanied 
 with instant compliance, may reasonably be expect- 
 ed from those who profess to be habitually led by 
 the Spirit. '^ The secret of the Lord is with them 
 that fear him." Psalm xxv. 14. 
 
 The design of his operation is in one view in- 
 variably the same — the production of holiness ; but 
 the branches of which that consists, and the exer- 
 cises of mind which are rendered subservient to it, 
 are various, and he who is intent on walking in the 
 Spirit, will be careful to fall in with that train of 
 thought, and cherish that cast of reflection, to which 
 he is especially invited. For want of more docility 
 in this respect, it is probable, we have often sustain- 
 ed loss. Permit us here to suggest two or three 
 heads of inquiry. You have sometimes felt a pecu- 
 liar seriousness of mind, the delusive glare of 
 worldly objects has faded away, or become dim be- 
 fore your eyes, and death and eternity, appearing 
 at the door, have filled the whole field of vision. 
 Have you improved such seasons for fixing those 
 maxims and establishing those practical conclusions 
 which may produce an habitual sobriety of mind, 
 when things appear under a different aspect? You 
 have sometimes found, instead of a reluctance to 
 pray, a powerful impulse to that exercise, so that 
 you felt as if you could do nothing else. Have 
 you always complied with these motions, and suf- 
 
 38 
 
fered nothing but the claims of absolute necessity to 
 divert you from pouring out your hearts at a throne 
 of grace ? The Spirit is said to make intercession 
 for saints, with groanings which cannot be uttered ; 
 when you have felt those ineffable longings after 
 God, have you indulged them to the utmost? Have 
 you spread every sail, launched forth into the deep 
 of the divine perfections and promises, and possess- 
 ed yourselves as much as possible of the fulness of 
 God ? There are moments when the conscience of 
 a good man is more tender, has a nicer and more 
 discriminating touch, than usual ; the evil of sin in 
 general, and of his own in particular, appears in a 
 more pure and piercing light. Have you availed 
 yourselves of such seasons as these for searching 
 into ^^ the chambers of imagery," and while you 
 detected greater and greater abominations, been at 
 pains to bring them out, and slay them before tba 
 Lord ? Have such visitations effected something to- 
 wards the mortification of sin ? Or have they been 
 suffered to expire in mere ineffectual resolutions ? 
 The fruits which godly sorrow produced in the 
 Corinthians are thus beautifully portrayed : " What 
 can,fulness it wrought in y; u, yea, what clearing of 
 yourselves, yea what indignation, yea what fear, 
 yea what vehement desire, yea what revenge !'' 
 Tliere are moments in the experience of a good man, 
 when he feels a more than ordinary softness of 
 mind ; the frost of selfishness dissolves, and his 
 
S99 
 
 heart flows forth in love to God and liis fellow- 
 creatures. How careful should we be to cherish 
 such a frame, and to embrace the opportunity of 
 subduing resentments, and of healing those scars 
 and wounds which it is scarcely possible to avoid 
 in passing through this unquiet world ! 
 
 There is a holy skill in turning the several parts 
 of Christian experience to account, analogous to 
 what the votaries of the world display in the im- 
 provement of every conjuncture from which it is 
 possible to derive emolument ; and though the end 
 they propose is mean and contemptible, the steadi- 
 ness with which they pursue it, and their dexterity 
 in the choice of means, deserve imitation. In these 
 respects ^' they are wiser in their generation than 
 the children of light.'' 
 
 Do not allow yourselves to indulge in religious 
 sloth, or to give way to the solicitations of the 
 tempter, from a confidence in the safety of your 
 state, or in your spiritual immunities as Christ- 
 ians. — The habitual prevalence of such a disposi- 
 tion will afford a much stronger proof of insincerity 
 than any arguments which can be adduced for the 
 contrary ; and admittiug your pretensions to piety 
 to be ever so valid, a little reflection may convince 
 you, that a careless aud negligent course will lay 
 you open to the severest rebukes. <^ You only have 
 I known," (says the Lord by the prophet) "of all 
 
300 
 
 the families of the earth , therefore will I punish 
 you for all your iniquities." 
 
 Remember, dear brethren ! we profess a peculiar 
 relation to God as his children, his witnesses, his 
 people, his temple ; the character of that glorious 
 Being and of his religion will be contemplated by 
 the world, chiefly through the medium of our spirit 
 and conduct, which ought to display, as in a mir- 
 ror, the virtues of Him Avho " hath called you out 
 of darkness into his marvellous light." It is strictly 
 appropriate to the subject of our present medita- 
 tions, to remind you that you are ^' temples." ^' For 
 ye," says the apostle, ^' are the temples of the 
 living God, as God hath said, I will dwell in them, 
 and walk in them, and I will be their God, and they 
 shall be my people." What purity, sanctity, and 
 dignity may be expected in persons who bear such 
 a character! A christian should look upon himself 
 as something sacred and devoted, so that what in- 
 volves but an ordinary degree of criminality in 
 others, in hira partakes of the nature of sacrilege ; 
 what is a breach of trust in others, is in hira the 
 profanation of a temple. Let us, dear brethren ! 
 watch and pray, that nothing may be allowed a 
 place in our hearts, tliat is not suitable to the re- 
 sidence of the holy and blessed God. Finally, 
 "^ having such great and precious promises, dearly 
 beloved ! let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness 
 of flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of 
 the Lord." 
 
301 
 
 Having thus endeavoured to lay before you the 
 most likely methods of obtaining the communica- 
 tions of the Spirit, as well as to show the great 
 importance of this gift, we might now dismiss the 
 subject, were we not desirous of first guarding you 
 against a dangerous mistake. The mistake to 
 which we refer, is that of taking conviction for 
 conversion, certain impressions of the guilt and 
 danger of sin made upon the conscience, for the sav- 
 ing operations of the Spirit. These convictions 
 are important : it is highly desirable and neces- 
 sary to have a settled persuasion of tlie established 
 connection betwixt sin and punisliment, and, as a 
 natural consequence, to feel uneasiness and alarm, 
 in proportion as we have reason to believe our 
 sins are yet unpardoned. Until we see ourselves 
 lost, we shall never truly come to Christ for sal- 
 vation. Until we feel our malady, and dread its 
 consequences, we shall never have recourse to the 
 Physician, or be willing to comply with his pre- 
 scription. We adjure you, therefore, as you value 
 your eternal interests, not to trifle with convictions, 
 or to endeavour to wear off religious concern and 
 uneasiness, by the vanities of life and the stupefac- 
 tions of pleasure. Regard and cherish them as 
 the sacred visitations of Heaven, look upon them 
 as mercifully designed to rouse and awaken you 
 from a fatal stupor. They are often tiie harbin- 
 gers of mercy. Wherever the Spirit of God is in 
 reality, he will convince of ^'in ; but conviction is 
 
302 
 
 produced in thousands who still remain destitute of 
 saving grace. That influence of the Spirit by which 
 a change of heart is eflfected, is essentially different 
 from that distress and alarm which may be resolved 
 into the exercise of mere natural conscience. For 
 a man to be convinced that he is a sinner, and to 
 treml)le at the apprehension of wrath to come, is 
 certainly something very distinct from becoming a 
 new creature. Real christians have not only per- 
 ceived their danger, but have fled for refuge ; have 
 not only been less or more troubled with a sense of 
 guilt, but, in consequence of coming to Christ, have 
 found rest for their souls. On a review of your 
 past life, you perceive innumerable transgressions, 
 it may be, and are perfectly convinced that you 
 have been " walking according to the course of this 
 world, according to the prince of the power of the 
 air. the spirit that now worketh in the children of 
 disobedience." So far it is well : your apprehen- 
 sions are just and well founded, and your sit- 
 uation more replete with danger than you have ever 
 conceived it to be. Do not, however, rest here. 
 Let the views you entertain excite you the more 
 earnestly to press into the kingdom of God. Let 
 them engage you to a more diligent use of the 
 means of grace ; and, above all, let them lead you 
 to fix your hope and trust on the Redeemer, whose 
 blood alone can cleanse you from sin, and whose 
 intercession is able to save *' to the uttermost all 
 that come unto God by him.'' (Heb. vii. 25.) Apply 
 
303 
 
 to him with humble faith and ardent prayer, and 
 though you may be tempted to cherish doubts of 
 the extent of his power and grace, say with him of 
 old, *^ Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief." 
 Lay aside, as far as possible, every other coacern ; 
 postpone your attention to every other object, till 
 you have reason to believe you have obtained mer- 
 cy, and are renewed in the spirit of your mind. 
 Address the throne of Grace with unceasing impor- 
 tunity, remembering who hath said, *• ask, and ye 
 shall receive ; seek, and ye shall find. Him tliat 
 Cometh unto me 1 will in no wise cast out." lu all 
 your addresses to God, make use of the name and 
 intercession of Christ, plead the efficacy of his 
 blood, and the encouragement he hath afforded sin- 
 ners, in his gospel, to return to God. Keep a con- 
 tinual watch over your words, thoughts, and ac- 
 tions : keep your heart with all diligence. Guard, 
 with the utmost care, against levity and sloth, two 
 most dangerous snares to the souls of men. 
 
 If you ask, how you may know whether you 
 are partakers of the special grace of Gud ; we re- 
 ply. This will be best ascertained by its fruits. 
 When you feel a fixed hatred of sin, an intense 
 thirst after holiness and perfection, and a delight in 
 the word and ways of God ; when you are habitu- 
 ally disposed to dwell on the thoughts of Christ 
 and heaven ; when the Saviour appears unspeaka- 
 bly precious, as " the pearl of great price," and 
 
304 
 
 you are habitually ready to part with every thiug 
 for his sake, you may be certain that you are born 
 of God. These are the fruits of the Spirit, which 
 sufficiently demonstrate the influence and presence 
 of that blessed Agent. Till you have experienced 
 effects of this kind, you arc in a wretched state, 
 though surrounded with all the brightest earthly 
 prospects, because you are estranged from God^ 
 and exposed to his eternal wrath and displeasure 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 

 1 A-^- ^^ i^fe^-