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SERMONS AND ADDRESSES 
 
S E K M N S 
 
 ADDRESSES, 
 
 VARIOUS SUBJECTS. 
 
 REV. D. L.'^CARROLL, D.D. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 LINDSAY & BLAKISTON. 
 
 1847. 
 
SEntcrelJ, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, by 
 D. L. Carroll, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court 
 
 of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Wm. S. YouNa, Printer. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Br the kind providence of God the author has 
 been permitted to fulfil a conditional promivse given 
 to his friends, a year ago, in the preface to his first 
 volume of Sermons and Addresses; namely, that 
 were life prolonged and a sufficient degree of health 
 granted, he would " publish another volume of equal 
 size, and perhaps of better selection " than the first. 
 It is a grave question with him now whether he has 
 fulfilled the last clause of this promise, and has really 
 made a "better selection " of subjects than in the 
 former instance. The Sermons that constitute the 
 principal part of this volume have been chosen 
 rather through deference to the taste and known 
 wishes of his friends and former parishioners, than 
 on his own individual judgment. It would have 
 been more accordant with his desire to employ the 
 precious remnant of his time and of his waning 
 strength in the way that would promise most use- 
 fulness, had he been left free to select Sermons more 
 strictly practical, and such as would make a direct 
 and pungent appeal to the conscience and the heart 
 of the reader. But, to many friends a pledge was 
 given, a year ago, that were a second volume pub- 
 lished, it should contain certain discourses which 
 they expressed a strong desire to have inserted. It 
 is specially to be regretted that, amongst tlie Ser- 
 mons thus promised, was the one on heaven, or the 
 1* 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 " better country ,'' as, since that pledge was given, 
 the author has read, from the pen of the most gifted 
 and eloquent divine now living, the Rev. Henry 
 Melvill, B. D., of England, a sermon on the same 
 subject of such transcendent excellence as to render 
 it seeming vanity, if not inexcusable presumption, 
 for any ordinary man to publish one on this exalted 
 theme, which the transatlantic preacher has sur- 
 rounded with so unparalleled a halo of glory, that 
 it would appear as though it had been borrowed 
 from the blessed scene described. The one to be 
 inserted in this volume has been promised, and 
 must therefore appear, though no one can be more 
 sensible than the author himself of how greatly it 
 will suffer in the comparison with the discourse of 
 the distinguished and popular clergyman whose 
 name has been mentioned. 
 
 The preparation of this second volume has occu- 
 pied all the time, during the past year, which the 
 author's enfeebled state permitted him to devote to 
 any kind of application. In one sense, the work 
 has been done " in weakness, and in fear, and in 
 much trembling,'' lest it should not be accomplished 
 at all. And although more labour and care have 
 been bestowed on it than on the first volume, he is 
 sensible that it still has defects which a more care- 
 ful revision, did time and health permit, would 
 remedy. But such a revision it cannot now re- 
 ceive. It must be committed as it is, to the cle- 
 mency and indulgence of the friends for whose 
 sakes and by whose kind patronage it is published 
 and commended to the blessing and overruling hand 
 of that God who, notwithstanding its imperfections, 
 
PREFACE. VU 
 
 can make it instrumental of good, because it is His 
 prerogative to choose "the weak things of the world 
 to confound the things which are mighty.'* 
 
 It is no affectation of modesty in the author to 
 say, that he has no sanguine hopes respecting tlie 
 reception which this second volume may meet with 
 from his friends and the public, whilst he has many 
 forebodings that it may disappoint tlieir expecta- 
 tions, and be regarded as inferior to the first. Were 
 he sensitive as to fame, or aiming to establish a 
 reputation as a writer, he would not publish this 
 volume with its present selection, both of Sermons 
 and Addresses. That author must be very ignorant 
 of the laws which govern the reading public, who 
 does not know that, however little the expectation, 
 and however low the standard created by liis first 
 production, a second, which may have equal, but 
 only equal merit, will not be esteemed so, because 
 there is a silent assumption in every mind that it 
 ought to be better, in order to justify its publica- 
 tion; and hence, if it be only equal, the disappoint- 
 ment produces a reaction which renders it the less 
 popular of the two. But the knowledge of this 
 fact has not deterred the author from issuing the 
 present volume. Other and paramount considera- 
 tions have influenced him in this matter. The pos- 
 sibility that the volume may contain and give some 
 permanency even to one of those eternal and immu- 
 table truths of God which his Spirit uses as the 
 means of edifying the Christian, or of awakening 
 and converting the sinner, has been a sufficient rea- 
 son, in his view, for its publication, notwithstand- 
 ing the disadvantages it may encounter in compari- 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 son with similar volumes of other authors, or with 
 the one that preceded it from his own pen. 
 
 The hours employed in its preparation, though 
 many of them have been hours of physical suffering 
 and depression, yet have they been mingled with a 
 melancholy pleasure, as not only diverting the au- 
 thor's mind from dwelling on the fatal malady under 
 which he is labouring, but as furnishing some scope 
 to that love of mental effort and that hope of result- 
 ant usefulness which have been two elements of his 
 happiness for the last twenty-five years. Whilst 
 engaged in the work, it has seemed to give a pleasing 
 vividness to the associations of his pastoral life when 
 busied, from week to week, in preparing these and 
 other topics of discourse for the spiritual welfare of 
 a beloved and affectionate people. And now that 
 he has finished it, a most tender and undefinable 
 sadness steals over his spirit, as though the last 
 link were parted that bound him to all those to 
 whom he once ministered, in the earlier and palm- 
 ier days of life. Gratefully recording the goodness 
 of God, and thankfully acknowledging the kind 
 sympathies and liberal patronage of friends, that 
 have cheered and enabled him to accomplish the 
 work, he would bow without a murmur to that dis- 
 pensation of the all-wise and ever-blessed God, 
 which has already set him aside from the active 
 duties of the holy office, cut off his hopes, and is 
 steadily bringing him " to the house appointed for 
 all living." "Even so, Father, for so it seemeth 
 good in thy sight." 
 
 Nbwark, Del., Aug. 4, 1847. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 SERMONS. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 The Strength of the Sinner's Resistance to Christ 
 AND THE Gospel, 13 
 
 ''Because I knew thee that thou art obstinate, and thy 
 neck is an iron sinew, and thy brow brass." — Is. xlviii. 4. 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 The Advantages of a Connexion with the Church 
 
 OF God, 35 
 
 •'^Come thou with us, and we will do thee good: for the 
 
 Lord hath spoken good concerning Israel." — ^Num. x. 29. 
 
 SERMON III. 
 The melancholy Career of the Sinner in banish- 
 ing his serious Concern for Salvation, . . 58 
 "He went away sorrowful." — Matt. xix. 22. 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 The kind of Influence which Christians are obli- 
 gated TO exert upon the world, . . . .80 
 ''In the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, 
 
 among whom ye shine as lights in the world." — Phil. ii. 
 
 15. 
 
 SERMON V. 
 
 The Evidence that Sinners are spiritually Lost, 105 
 " For the Son of Man is come to seek and to save that 
 
 which was lost." — Luke xix. 10. 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 The Interview of Moses and Elijah with the Mes- 
 siah, ON the Mount of TransfiguratioNj . .123 
 '•'And behold there talked with him two men, which 
 were Moses and Elias, who appeared in glory, and spake 
 of the decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem." 
 — Luke ix. 30, 31. 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 The illusive Show of the present Life, . . 150 
 
 '^ Surely every man walketh in a vain show." — Psalm 
 XXXIX. 6. 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 
 The Things implied in a proper Government of 
 the Thoughts, 169 
 
 '' Bringing every thought into captivity unto the 
 
 obedience of Christ." — 2 Cor. x. 5. 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 The Considerations that enforce the Duty of go- 
 verning THE Thoughts, 197 
 
 "Bringing every thought into captivity unto the 
 
 obedience of Christ." — 2 Cor. x. 6. 
 
 SERMON X. 
 The Claims of Africa on the Christian World to send 
 
 HER the Gospel, 226 
 
 "And this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in 
 all the world, for a witness unto all nations." — Matt. 
 XXIV. 14. 
 
 SERMON XL 
 
 The New Song, 250 
 
 "And they sung a new song." — Rev. v. 9. 
 
 SERMON XIL 
 
 The Sinner's Power of destroying Good, . . . 268 
 
 " But one sinner destroyeth much good." — Ec. ix. 18. 
 
CONTENTS. XI 
 
 SERMON Xni. 
 
 The Better Country, 295 
 
 "But now they desire a better country; that is, a lica- 
 venly." — Heb. xi. 16, 
 
 ADDRESSES. 
 
 The Influence which the Bible is adapted to exert 
 
 ON Young Men, 320 
 
 Delivered at the Anniversary of the American Bible So- 
 ciety, in the city of New York, May, 1836. 
 
 II. 
 The Influence of Intellectual Cultivation on Female 
 Happiness, 347 
 
 Delivered before a Dorcas Society of young ladies be- 
 longing to the author's pastoral charge. 
 
SERMONS 
 
 I. 
 
 " Because I knew thee that thou art obstinate, and thy neck is an 
 iron sinew and thy brow brass." — Isaiah xlviii. 4. 
 
 This is the language of God to his ancient people. 
 On first view it is rather surprising that, to a people 
 in covenant relation with himself, such a style of ad- 
 dress should he adopted by the High and Holy One. 
 The preceding verses, however, show that it was the 
 tmconverted portion of Israel whose character is 
 thus described — (vide v. 1 — 3.) The metaphors 
 here employed are, perhaps, ihe strongest and most 
 striking in the compass of the scriptures. The phrase 
 "Thy neck is an iron sinew" seems to refer to the 
 rugged, sullen, unyielding ox, who, with indomitable 
 obstinacy, refuses to submit his neck to the yoke. 
 The force of this allusion is greatly enhanced by the 
 consideration that, whatever may be the strength of 
 the resistance offered by the ox, his neck is com- 
 posed of a number of different tissues and tendons of 
 flesh, some of which may be compelled to yield under 
 a given force, and thus lead to the subjection of the 
 whole; whilst the sinner's neck is represented as 
 composed of a homogeneous, hard mass — one consoli- 
 dated sineiv of iron. " Thy brow brass " seems to 
 2 
 
14 SERMON I. 
 
 refer to the metallic cap or helmet of the soldier, 
 which covered his brow and rendered it invulnera- 
 ble by the sword of the enemy. These are the meta- 
 phors by which God would shadow forth the resist- 
 ance which unrenewed men oflfer to the gospel. Now, 
 if there be power in language or meaning in meta- 
 phor, when used by the Almighty, then our text 
 was designed to teach us that the strength of the sin- 
 ner's resistance to the gospel is appallingly great! 
 "Thy neck i& an iron sinew, and thy brow^ brass.'' 
 Could you select a phrase from human language to 
 convey the idea of an obstinacy and resistance more 
 determined and tremendous than this ? My dear 
 impenitent hearer, this is the language which God 
 himself employs to startle you to-day at the thought 
 of the awful strength of your resistance to the calls 
 and offers of the gospel! 
 
 This is the subject to which I would now crave 
 your close and serious attention. I do n6t intend to 
 amuse you, my hearers, by treating this subject in 
 an abstract and metaphorical manner. This day and 
 this place are too sacred, and life is too short, and 
 too serious in its issues an eternity, to lose this op- 
 portunity of "commending the truth to every man's 
 cobscience in the sight of God." Forget not then, 
 my impenitent hearer, in the progress of this dis- 
 course, that it is YOUR obstinacy — the strength of 
 YOUR resistance to the calls and offers of mercy — 
 that is the subject under consideration. And to give 
 you some idea of the strength of this your resistance, 
 consider, 
 
 I. That it is a native and deep-rooled principle 
 of your depravity, and not an incidental or tern- 
 
SERMON I. 15 
 
 jwrary habit or tnode of feeling. Men can be 
 placed in circumstances in which Ihey will feel very 
 strongly, when that feeling is merely the result of 
 the condition in which, for the time being, they are 
 held. Indeed, the human mind is subject to a num- 
 ber of incidental impulses from without, which, for 
 a season, may sway it powerfull}". The struggles 
 and frenzy of political and ecclesiastical partisans are 
 ample proof of this. But feelings which are the re- 
 sult of mere circumstances, or of external and casual 
 impulses, are necessarily of short duration. They 
 disappear, of course, with the circumstances which 
 gave them birth. They have no root in the mind 
 itself, and cannot therefore remain and incorporate 
 themselves with the very existence of the mind, and 
 "grow with its growth and strengthen with its 
 strength," and thus have all the energy oi perma- 
 nent principles of our nature. Now, the sinner's 
 resistance to Christ and the gospel is not a tempo- 
 rary feeling of this kind. It is not the result of 
 mere circumstances or casual associations, nor the 
 effect of an external and temporary impulse. His 
 resistance to the Saviour is an original ar>d deep- 
 rooted principle of his depraved nature. It is a part 
 of his own sinful self — a primary element of his per- 
 verted moral being. " For the carnal mind is enmity 
 against God, and is not subject to the law of God^ 
 neither, indeed^ <:an 5e." This is the character of 
 the sinner's resistance! Its roots have gone down to 
 the very bottom of his soul, and draw nourishment 
 from every power of his nature. Carried about with 
 him "in every track and lane of life," and inccs- 
 santlv fed from a thousand hidden sources, this re- 
 
16 SERMON I. 
 
 sistance of the sinner has every facility to increase 
 its fearful might that pertains to any native principle 
 of the heart. It grows, then, and ivill grow, till the 
 strength of the oaks of Bashan vvill be no more com- 
 pared with it than that of the reed shaken by the 
 wind. 
 
 II. In estimating the force of the soul's resistance 
 to Christ and the gospel, consider, in the second 
 place, the strength which it has acquired by exer- 
 cise or repeated action. In reference to the human 
 body, it is a clear and indisputable truth of physio- 
 logy, that the great law of development and growth 
 in all the corporeal powers is exercise, or the reite- 
 rated action of those powers on appropriate objects. 
 Were a child prevented wholly from ui^ing its arms, 
 those members would not only cease to grow, but 
 would become partly withered. On the contrary, if 
 the pursuits of early life lead to the vigorous exer- 
 cise of these limbs, as in the case of some of the me- 
 chanical branches, they will exhibit a fulness of de- 
 velopment. and a muscular strength far greater than 
 are found in persons who have been confined to more 
 inactive employments. Now, the same great law 
 operates in the development and growth of our intel- 
 lectual faculties, and in the formation and force of 
 our moral habits. Constant exercise will give to 
 every constitutional susceptibility an incalculable 
 strength. What made the difference in the intel- 
 lectual strength of Lord Bacon when a youth, and 
 no way distinguished from others of his own age 
 around him, and, when more advanced in life, his 
 giant mind grasped in its potent sweep the whole 
 range of human science, and pointed out the method 
 
??EUMON r. 17 
 
 by which every brniicli of it miglilbc canii'd loward^-. 
 perfection? Simply the reiterated action, the con- 
 stant exercise^ to which he had patiently disciplined 
 his mind. How shall we account for the amazing 
 difference betu^een Sir Isaac Newton's mental power 
 when playing with the toys of boyhood, and when 
 afterwards he was found capable of discovering the 
 great law of gravitation — of measuring the distance 
 of the stars — and of almost invading the prerogative 
 of the Almighty, by "telling all their numbers?" 
 Simply by the incesscmt exercise of his mental facul- 
 ties. For, after he had made all his splendid attain- 
 ments, he was asked, on one occasion, whether he 
 was conscious of possessing any mental power w^hich 
 really distinguished him, as an individual, from other 
 men. lie replied that he was not, except it might 
 be tlie power of a patient and pi'olonged exercise of 
 his intellectual faculties. Again. What constituted 
 the difference between the strength of Napoleon's 
 ambition when a mere subaltern in ti»e army, and 
 when afterwards, from the summit of emj)ire, he 
 seemed to have before his eye Satan's grand pano- 
 rama of tlie kingdonis of this world and all their 
 glory, and aimed at nothing short of these as the 
 objects of his conquests? Obviously the exercise 
 which he had given to that baleful passion. What 
 a gigantic might can the principles of our nature ac- 
 quire merely by their reiterated action! 
 
 Now, the sinner's resistance to Christ and the gos- 
 pel has, in respect to exercise, a decided advantage 
 over most or all other active principles of our na- 
 ture. This resistance is called into play much ear- 
 lier than were the intelleotual powers of j'noon or 
 
18 SERMON I. 
 
 Newton, or the unhallowed ambition of Bonaparte. 
 Resistance to Jesus Christ, the Saviour, is the first 
 moral act of the soul. The proof of this lies vvithin 
 the precincts of the nursery. When maternal love 
 and piety, watching the first buddings of moral sus- 
 ceptibility in the infant, weep over it, tell it the all- 
 subduing story of the cross, pray with it, and then 
 beseech it to give its young heart to Christ, what is 
 the result? Does the child yield and obey? No! it 
 resists that call, and refuses to submit to the Saviour. 
 Beginning, then, thus early j think, my hearers, how 
 numerous are the occasions that call this resistance 
 into action. It has never slumbered during one day 
 since it was first awoke in infancy. For the mer- 
 cies of any single day, if not resisted, would melt 
 and subdue the heart; and the very fact that the sin- 
 ner is still obstinate and impenitent, is proof that 
 those mercies have been daily resisted. So have 
 been all the example and influence of godly parents 
 and pious friends — all the sermons and exhortations 
 — all the truths read in the word of God— all the 
 warnings of Providence — all the alternations of 
 goodness and severity, which have checkered the 
 history of God's dealings with the sinner through 
 the whole of past life. Now, what a vigorous and 
 incessant play must the sinner's resistance have had 
 to have effected all this for the space of ten, tvvent}^, 
 thirty, or forty years! No power of his nature has 
 been so busily employed. It has been exercised till 
 it has acquired a fulness of development and a fear- 
 ful force which God describes by the metaphor of 
 our text — "Thy neck is an iron sinew, and thy brow 
 brassy "The hidings of its power are terrible!" 
 
SERMON I. 19 
 
 Musing on its awful might, we experience an emo- 
 tion of tlie dark and horrible sublime not unlike that 
 felt when we contemplate the mysterious, supernatu- 
 ral energies of " the Prince of the power of the air" 
 himself. 
 
 III. To enhance our ideas of its strength, consi- 
 der, in the third place, the means of augmenting 
 and fortifying his resistance to Chinst by which 
 the sinner is surrounded. It must have occurred to 
 every reflecting mind, that the whole subverted order 
 of things brought in upon our world by the apostacy 
 of Adam tends directly, in all its details, to strengthen 
 this resistance. When the sinner is young, and the 
 principle of imitation acts most vigorously, what a 
 means of increasing this resistance does he have in 
 the iingodlij example of his superiors in age. In 
 society there are never wanting some, either parents 
 or others, who, by their example, tread in upon the 
 young mind the lesson of neglect of God, and resist- 
 ance to Christ and the gospel. They tutor it to prac- 
 tise its neck to refuse the yoke, and teach it how to 
 make it become an iron sinew. Again: as the sin- 
 ner arrives at that period of life when the desire for 
 society is strongest, what a means to increase and 
 fortify his resistance does ungodly youthful compa- 
 nionship afford. Ah! this resistance in the soul of 
 the young man finds abundant congeniality and con- 
 firmation from the great majority of youtii around 
 him. It does not render him singular, and cause 
 him to be avoided. Nay, it is one of the points of 
 strongest attraction to his wicked companions. 
 
 There is also an ingenious array o^ youthful plea- 
 sures presented to allure the young mind, and greatly 
 
20 SERMON I. 
 
 increase its reluctance to yield to the claims of Christ. 
 Indeed, his resistance has the advantage of connect- 
 ing its power with the entire force of that current of 
 gayety and youthful mirth, which is becoming more 
 and more strong and resistless as society advances. 
 And in addition to this, he has the whole array of 
 j'outhful passions within him, in the very spring- 
 time and hey-day of their violent and tumultuous 
 excitability, ready on all occasions to add their united 
 power to the strength of his resistance to the gospel. 
 When the sinner arrives at manhood and middle age, 
 then what means of increasing and fortifying his ob- 
 stinate refusal of the offers of mercy are furnished 
 him by the crowded cares of this period — b}^ the 
 cravings of avarice and the calculations of an absorb- 
 ing selfishness — by the hurry, and bustle, and com- 
 petitions of the road to wealth — by the temptations 
 to overreaching and dishonesty, in the great haste to 
 be rich. What a powerful re-enforcement are all 
 these to the strength of the sinner's resistance to the 
 gospel! 
 
 Even in old age, when there are no longer any 
 appliances for increasing the bodily or intellectual 
 strength, the sinner finds ample means to augment 
 and fortify his opposition to the Saviour. For then 
 he has the power of early associations and long 
 cherished habits of resistance. He has, also, either 
 the moroseness of disappointment or the intoxication 
 of success in the pursuits of a long life, or his physi- 
 cal energies are so far wasted that he has the timidity, 
 the irresolution, the despondency and decrepitude of 
 age, all concurring to add a new power of resistance 
 to God and his gospel. Whilst, in his physical con- 
 
SERMON I. 21 
 
 stitution, the aged sinner is but the mere wreck of 
 what he once was, yet out of this weakness liis re- 
 sistance waxes strong, and flourishes from the very 
 decay going on around its roots! 
 
 Now, contemplate this array of means for in- 
 creasing and fortifying the sinner's opposition — an 
 array stretching along the whole line of his exist- 
 ence, and pressing in from both sides of his guilty 
 pathway, to aid him in his every act of rejecting 
 offered mercy — and say, my hearers, what must be 
 the strength of his resistance, when aided and upheld 
 by so mighty a combination of forces! Without ex- 
 aggeration, we may ap])ly to it the inspired descrip- 
 tion of a demoniac of old — " And no man could bind 
 him; no, not with chains: neither could any man 
 tame him!" The sinner's resistance has a strength 
 tliat vvill break away from every thing but the '^ever- 
 lasting chains" of God's omnipotence! 
 
 IV. The great strength of the sinner's resistance 
 to Christ and the gospel may be judged of by the 
 powerful motives which it successfully withstands. 
 The best way to test the real strength of any prin- 
 ciple is to see what given force it can overcome. 
 But how shall we compute the power of those innu- 
 merable motives which God presents to disarm the 
 sinner of his rebellion, and which the sinner success- 
 fully resists? Who can calculate the moral force of 
 the appeal which God's goodness makes to every 
 human heart? A goodness that stands confessed in 
 the organization of ever}^ atom that composes the 
 material creation. Earth, air, ocean; the skies, with 
 their commingling light and glory, eloquent of the 
 infinite goodness of Jehovah! Day unto day utter- 
 
22 SERMON I. 
 
 ing speech, and night unto night showing knowledge 
 of Him; their voice going out into all the earth, and 
 their words to the ends of the world, to melt the 
 hearts of sinners. But their resistance is strong 
 enough to withstand this motive. God appeals, also, 
 to the sinner in that goodness which is directed to- 
 vs^ards him as an individual, and is employed spe- 
 cially in prolonging his life and crowning his earthly 
 allotment with innumerable blessings. That good- 
 ness which is daily protecting him from unnumbered 
 dangers, known and unknown — which is pouring oil 
 and wine into the inevitable wounds of his present 
 condition — which is employing a watchful and inces- 
 sant agency on the springs of life itself, and holding 
 in harmonious action all the parts of the vital ma- 
 chinery; a goodness which is commissioning a thou- 
 sand messengers on errands of kindness to the sin- 
 ner every moment. Vet that sinner has a resistance 
 strong enough to spurn this munificent hand that has 
 been ever full of bounties for him individually, and 
 4o cast indignit}^ in the very face of that infinite be- 
 nevolence which has been shining and smiling on 
 him, notwithstanding his reckless ingratitude. How 
 strong must that resistance be! But to the sinner 
 God makes another and more tender appeal. He 
 invites that sinner to come up to Calvary, and com- 
 mune with Him respecting the things that happened 
 there, and to contemplate the sublime and melan- 
 choly glories of the cross. There, in the eloquence 
 of eternal love, God speaks out his heart to the sin- 
 ner. "This is my beloved Son.'' See him, with 
 a countenance still deeply shaded with that sorrow- 
 fulness of soul which he had in Gethsemane; see the 
 
SERMON I. S3 
 
 great sweat of his ao;ony not yet dried from his brow; 
 behold the marks of his buffeting and scourginj:;, till 
 you might tell all his bones; see the crown of thorns 
 beaten into his sacred temples by blows of mob-vio- 
 lence; see those hands that stretched out and gar- 
 nished the heavens, and those feet, that shone on 
 Tabor's top and trod celestial worlds, now nailed to 
 the ignominious cross: hear, oh hear him exclaim, 
 in the eloquence of dying love and sorrow, "My 
 God, my God! why hast thou forsaken me!'' Sin- 
 ner, this is my beloved Son! I freely gave him 
 up to all this for you. This is the splendid offering 
 which my eternal mercy made for your redemp- 
 tion! My only begotten, well beloved Son, endured 
 all this, and hidden woes of the soul that mortals 
 cannot know — he prayed and wept, and bled and 
 died, and rose and reigns on high, that you might 
 be saved — that yoii might have pardon, and peace, 
 and hope, and joy here in this present life, and ex- 
 ultations, and triumph, and transports of bliss unut- 
 terable in the life to come! "This is my beloved 
 Son!" Sinner, will you hear him? But lo! the 
 sinner has a strength of resistance which enables him 
 to turn coldly away from Calvar}'', his countenance 
 unmoved as marble, his heart hard as adamant! 
 
 God has also, in his retributive visitations in the 
 present world, addressed powerful motives to the 
 fears of the sinner. He has made " his pavilion 
 round about him dark waters and thick clouds of 
 the sky." He has " revealed his wrath from hea- 
 ven against all unrighteousness and ungodliness of 
 men." More than once has he darkened our world 
 with the frown of his indignation against sin! In 
 
24 SERMON I. 
 
 the woes of the great overthrow in Eden — in the 
 rush and the roar of those blending streams of hea- 
 ven and earth that destroyed the old world — in the 
 lightnings and earthquake that subverted the cities 
 of Sodom's plain — in the biography of sinning and 
 suffering Israel — in the pestilence, and famine, and 
 sword — in all the national and individual disaster 
 and catastrophe that have filled the entire history 
 of the world, God has appealed to the sinner's fears, 
 and warned him to flee from the wrath to come! 
 And yet his resistance is strong enough to brave 
 these terrors and withstand this appeal. In the 
 alarms of his providence, also, God may have ad- 
 dressed the sinner personally. In the repeated vi- 
 sitations of death he may have wrested from that 
 sinner one and another, and another of his relatives 
 and friends, till his bereaved and bleeding heart 
 knows not where to turn for respite from its multi- 
 plied sorrows. Yea, the hand of God may have 
 been laid on the sinner himself, and have held him 
 suspended as by a hair over the grave and eternity. 
 Thus, in every badge of mourning he has worn — - 
 from every opening tomb over which he has bent — 
 in every pain of body which he has endured — in all 
 the hidden anguish of mind that has ever been his — 
 in all the sobs, and sighs, and tears, and groans, and 
 final farewells of the death-scenes he has witnessed, 
 the eternal God has warned him of the consequences 
 of sin, and presented motives to his fears; but the 
 sinner's resistance has been sufficiently strong to 
 defy them all! 
 
 Not only has God brought to bear upon the sin- 
 ner powerful motives from the past and the present, 
 
SERMON I. 25 
 
 but also from the future. Jehovah has drawn aside 
 that mysterious curtain which conceals the world to 
 come. He has opened heaven to the sinner's hope. 
 A heaven of deep and unending repose; an eternal 
 heaven of sinless purity — of deathless joys — of un- 
 speakable triumphs of the intellect and the heart in 
 all knowledge, holiness, and bliss for ever! God 
 offers it as the immortal inheritance of the sinner's 
 soul. He calls upon him to catch the inspiration 
 of its shouts of victory; to feel the divine charm of 
 its harps and its song, and the diviner transports of 
 its grand hallelujah chorus to God and the Lamb. 
 And behold, so strong is the sinner's resistance that 
 he can close his eyes on heaven's visions of glory, 
 and turn the deafness of the adder's ears to all the 
 wooing strains of its celestial voices! 
 
 To ply his fears, God has also revealed a future 
 hell to the sinner. A hell of deep and agitating 
 turmoil and storms; an endless hell of perfected de- 
 pravity — of unspeakable bursts of lawless passions — 
 of uncaged and untameable malignity — of undying 
 woes — of unpitied wailing — of moans of eternal 
 agony, that will rend its gloomy atmosphere and 
 reverberate through its deep caverns of despair 
 while immortality rolls on! God assures the sin- 
 ner that, continuing impenitent, this shall be the 
 everlasting portion of his cup. He calls upon the 
 sinner j:o tremble as he sees the smoke of its tor- 
 ments ascending and darkening his horizon, and 
 hears the loud wail of the lost, warning him of his 
 approaching doom ! And yet the sinner has a power 
 of resistance that enables him to laugh at these ter- 
 rors of the Almighty! "Fools make a mock at 
 3 
 
26 SERMON I. 
 
 sin." And happy will it be for some of you, my 
 youthful hearers, if you have not already learned to 
 sport with the thought of perdition, and to treat as 
 a jest the tremendous realities of an eternal hell! 
 Oh, what manner of resistance is this! Contem- 
 plate for a moment, by recapitulation, the motives 
 which it withstands: motives that commence with 
 time, and combine the urgency of all the judgments 
 and all the mercies that constitute the sum of God's 
 administration over the world; motives that reach 
 into eternity, and compass all the joys of the re- 
 deemed and all the woes of the damned! Look at 
 the sinner, begirded with all the motives which 
 time and eternity, heaven, earth, and hell can bind 
 round him — and, superadded to all these, the power 
 of conscience and the strivings of the Holy Ghost — • 
 and behold him, in the strength of his resistance to 
 Christ, break them all asunder, as did Samson the 
 green withes from his arms, and arise and shake 
 them from him as the lion does the dew-drops from 
 his mane in the morning! 
 
 What think you now, my dear hearers, of the 
 strength of this resistance, as measured by the num- 
 ber and power of the motives which it successfully 
 withstands. It is pre-eminently the most awful 
 energy that pertains to human nature. It is the 
 very aggregation of all the tremendous forces of 
 man's depraved being! 
 
 V. We may learn something more of the strength 
 of this resistance by contemplating the nature op 
 THE AGENT that exevcises it. 
 
 It is not a blind, but all-conquering might, such 
 as paganism and infidelity attribute to the decrees 
 
SERMON r. 27 
 
 of an Immutable fate. It is the purposed, deliberate 
 resistance of intelligent, immortal mind. But, 
 with what forces in nature shall we compare mind? 
 When witnessing the action of the great agencies of 
 matter, we are often filled with amazement at their 
 energies. The might of the billows of ocean — the 
 resistless sweep of the tornado — the destructive vio- 
 lence of fire — the terrific power of steam, and the 
 almost omnipotence of the volcano and the light- 
 ning, though they be mere blind, material agents, 
 can never be contemplated without a feeling of op- 
 pressive sublimity, and a deep impression of the 
 " thunder of God's power" as the Creator. But we 
 approach the contemplation of man's intelligent, im- 
 mortal spirit, and find that its power, though of ano- 
 ther kind, rises above the agencies of matter. It 
 spurns all the brute force which they wield, and by 
 its own superior energies of thought and will, dis- 
 covers the laws which regulate these mighty agen- 
 cies, and makes many of them subservient to its 
 own convenience and comfort. 
 
 It is the power of mind that has enabled man to 
 yoke the winds to his gallant sail; to lay his fear- 
 less hand on the curling mane of ocean, and ride in 
 safety and triumph over its topmost wave! It is 
 this which has enabled him to chain the hissing 
 steam to the car, and transport himself over land 
 with the speed of a bird of the air. It was this 
 which enabled a Franklin to pluck the plume of his 
 fame from the lightning's wing unharmed by its 
 deadly bolt, and a Morse to lay his message on that 
 wing, for an almost instantaneous transmission round 
 the globe! 
 
2S SERMON I. 
 
 And then let us look back over the history of the 
 world, at the trophies of art and science which mind 
 has reared. What stupendous monuments of its 
 power stand along the track of past ages. Look at 
 the sway which certain minds have held over earth's 
 millions, century after century. What a tremen- 
 dous impression of their existence and character 
 have they stamped in on their own generation, and 
 the generations following. Look over the earth at 
 present, on all the recent discoveries in the arts and 
 sciences — on the modifications and revolutions of 
 human governments — on the march and daily tri- 
 umphs of civilization — on the great enterprises of 
 benevolence, and the propagation of Christianity. 
 What mighty power is this that is spreading out its 
 impulses over this busy creation, and moving and 
 heaving its masses of bustling activity ? It is the 
 power of intelligent, immortal mind. A power that 
 can soar above this nether world, and, making the 
 heavens its observatory, discover new worlds in the 
 far ofif realms of space, and travel in thought through 
 the circuit of the universe. What amazing energies 
 does mind possess! And yet the present life is but 
 the morning hour of its existence, and all these 
 monuments of its power which fill the earth, but 
 the mere toys which it has made on the play-ground 
 of its infancy! For mind has the germ of powers 
 that are yet to be evolved in its immortal manhood, 
 compared with which its present capacities are per- 
 fectly infantile. Powers that are to be waked and 
 energised, and taxed with intense action, either in 
 the employments of heaven or the struggles of hell, 
 long ages after all the mightiest agencies of matter 
 shall have worn themselves out and ceased to be! 
 
SERMON I. 29 
 
 Now, my hearers, this, this is the nature of the 
 agent that resists Christ and the gospel. Oh, vvhat 
 must the strength of that resistance be! <' Thou, 
 God, only knowest!" We know that such a resist- 
 ance the Son of God never met with from the laws 
 and agencies of matter. When the winds and the 
 waves combined tlieir tumultuating violence to de- 
 stroy the frail bark that bore his disciples on the 
 sea of Galilee, he had but to say, " Peace, be still," 
 and immediately there was a great calm. When 
 disease seized its subject, and commenced its subtle, 
 insidious task of disorganizing the wonderful frame- 
 work of the body, he had but to speak the word, 
 and the patient was restored to perfect health. 
 When death itself had severed the silver cord, and 
 the grave had set up its dark dominion over an in- 
 dividual, he had but to proclaim, "Lazarus, come 
 forth," and the man was before him, full of life. 
 But when, in the voice of love and mercy, he calls 
 to the immortal mind in its fortified resistance, he 
 calls in vain. That mind returns no answer! When 
 he asks the wounded, bleeding sinner, " Wilt thou 
 be made whole?" that sinner maintains the sullen 
 silence of spiritual death. When he says to the la- 
 bouring and heavy laden, " Come unto me, and I 
 will give you rest," the resistance of the sinner 
 holds him firm and motionless as a brazen colossus! 
 Wliy is this? It is because it is the resistance of 
 intelligent, voluntary mind. It is the awful per- 
 version of the sinner's power as a free moral agent; 
 whose nature is such that it is not consistent for God 
 himself to exercise any species of physical force 
 upon it. It is llio resistance of a nature made but a 
 3* 
 
30 SERMON I. 
 
 little lower than the angels; of a mind created in 
 the image of its God, and decreed to immortality! 
 A resistance that has all the strength of those mar- 
 shalled forces of the undying soul which will wage 
 war upon God, and grapple with damnation through 
 eternal ages! 
 
 We see from this subject, in the first place, the 
 absolute necessity of the Holy Spirit^ s influences 
 for the conversion of souls. 
 
 Contemplate the strength of the sinner's resistance 
 to Christ and the gospel as now presented, and judge 
 for yourselves, my hearers, whether there be any- 
 mere means or instrumentality apart from a divine 
 influence that will ever overcome that resistance. 
 The strong man armed is in his palace, keeping his 
 goods in peace, and he smiles in Satanic scorn at 
 the puny force of all the mere means that can be 
 brought to dispossess him and spoil his house. He 
 .knows the strength of his resistance. He knows 
 that it has coped, successfully, with the entire array 
 of motives that creation, providence, and grace, the 
 past, present, and future can present. And, espe- 
 cially, after being strong enough to carry him head- 
 long in his rebellion and impenitence over the sum- 
 mit of Calvary, trampling under foot the Son of 
 God in his suffering and glory — blinding his eyes, 
 and deafening his ears, to the sights and sounds there 
 revealed, and steeling his heart against the pleadings 
 of all the love, and all the wo, of the crucifixion, 
 what hope is there for the soul's salvation, even in 
 the might of an angel's arm ! How idle to talk of 
 moral suasion, and the adaptation and power of mere 
 truth, to conquer this resistance. ^^ Leviathan is 
 
SERMON I. 31 
 
 not so /a??ied.-' Tlic brow of brass droops not; tlie 
 iron sinew bends not beneath any force less than the 
 moral omnipotence of the Holy Ghost! Every 
 other influence in the universe will fail to disarm 
 him of his enmity, and to prostrate the sinner's re- 
 sistance to Christ and the gospel. My dear, im- 
 penitent hearer, the sooner you are convinced of 
 this, the better. Your voluntary resistance to the 
 Saviour has acquired such a strength as to render 
 the work of your redemption no trivial affair. You 
 are completely dependent on the sovereign mercy 
 of an offended God, and on the direct and efficient 
 influences of the aggrieved, insulted. Spirit of grace, 
 for your salvation. You have destroyed yourself 
 absolutely. If there be any help for you, it is in 
 God ONLY. It is in that "exceeding great power 
 by which He raised up Christ from the dead!" 0! 
 in what a terrible condition are you placed by the 
 strength of your resistance to the Lord that bought 
 you!! Why is it that you do not so realize this, 
 your forlorn state, as to throw yourself immediately 
 on the arm of Almighty God for deliverance! My 
 dear Christian friends, 7/oic ought to be deeply con- 
 vinced, also, that the Holy Spirit's influences are 
 the only ground of hope that sinners will be saved. 
 You know that it is no exaggerated picture of the 
 strength of their resistance, which I have now pre- 
 sented. And if sinners will still sleep on under this 
 fearful representation, do you take the alarm for 
 them. They will certainly be lost, and t/ou know 
 ity unless the Holy Spirit be poured out upon them 
 from on high. 0, then, fly to your closets, to your 
 family altars, and to the social prayer meeting, and 
 
32 SERMON I. 
 
 "being in an agony," in view of their condition, 
 "pray the more earnestly," that God would send 
 those all-conquering influences of the Holy Spirit, 
 without which, they will resist the Lord Jesus till 
 the last, and sink in a hopeless perdition! 
 
 Finally. This subject shows us the folly and 
 madness of putting off the work of salvation to 
 some future period. 
 
 What is it, my ungodly hearer, that has kept you 
 thus long without an interest in Christ, and peace 
 with God? Simply the strength of your resist- 
 ance to Christ and his gospel. Nothing else, what- 
 ever, has been in your way. This is the obstacle to 
 your being reconciled to God now. And, we have 
 seen, that this your resistance is receiving fresh ac- 
 cessions of strength by exercise, and by the various 
 means of fortifying it, every hour that )^ou live. It 
 has been, and is now, strong enough to break away 
 from the influence of all the motives past, present, 
 and future, that God has brought to bear upon you! 
 And yet you are putting off* the work of repentance, 
 submission, and faith, to some future period, with 
 the hope that it will be easier io perform them then, 
 when that resistance which is sufficiently strong to 
 prevent you from doing the work now, will then 
 have an indefinitely augmented power ! ! ! what 
 consummate folly ! what egregious madness! ! What 
 would you think of an individual who at present 
 was bound with a chain which he was required to 
 break, but which he felt to be already so strong as 
 to incline him to procrastinate the effort; and yet, 
 every day that he delayed, another chain of equal or 
 greater strength, would be wound about him. Sup- 
 
SERMON I. 33 
 
 pose you saw him, as chain after chain was added 
 by his delay, still looking onward to a more distant 
 period in the future, when he hoped it would be 
 easier to break their combined power, and make his 
 escape. You would pronounce him a madman. — 
 A worse madness than this is in the heart of the sin- 
 ner, who, from ten thousand sources, every day is 
 feeding the strength of his resistance to Christ, and 
 yet putting off the hour of his submission, with the 
 hope that hereafter his reluctance to yield to God 
 will be less! Deluded mortal! He is under the 
 charm of the Old Serpent, who has gotten him with- 
 in his elastic folds ; and while the sinner delays re- 
 pentance, Satan lays around his ruined soul, another 
 and another snaky coil, till his whole length will at 
 last be expended, and then he will tighten those 
 coils, till bound hand and foot, the sinner will find 
 himself the unresisting victim of eternal death !! — 
 Yes, ye delaying hearers, in the light of this sub- 
 ject, you can see the guilty hopelessness of procras- 
 tination. It is highly probable you will perish for 
 ever! ^lillions under the gospel, who have trod- 
 den before you in this path of criminal procrasti- 
 nation, have, ere they were aware, found their bands 
 made strong upon them, and been delivered over to 
 the judge, and the judge has cast them into the pri- 
 son of everlasting despair. Now you are pursuing 
 precisely the same course, and what shall hinder 
 you from sharing the same awful destiny ! How 
 heart-rending the thought that the impenitent ?/oz///i, 
 as well as older transgressors here to-day, are hur- 
 rying on in this course, and hastening to this tre- 
 mendous doom ! 0, God of mercy ! arrest them — 
 
34 SERMON I. 
 
 O, Thou bleeding Lamb of God, interpose to save 
 them — Holy Spirit come, 0, come, and conquer 
 their resistance before it bring upon them the bitter 
 pangs of the second death. 
 
SERMON II. 35 
 
 SERMON II 
 
 " Come thou with us, and we will do thee good ; for the Lord hath 
 spoken good concerning Israel." — Numbers x. 29. 
 
 Sincere piety is essentially benevolent. Its en- 
 lire spirit is diametrically opposed to the contracted, 
 calculating, and selfish temper of the world. It 
 aims at the widest possible diffusion of its high pri- 
 vileges and spiritual blessings. Like its divine Au- 
 thor, the religion of the gospel delights in the com- 
 munication of happiness. And those whose piety 
 consists wholly in a formal round of duties performed 
 under the lash of a slavish fear and the stimulus of 
 a selfish hope, ought to suspect their spiritual state, 
 and to know that theirs is not the pure and un- 
 defiled religion of the Bible. It is not the kind of 
 piety which Moses exhibits in our text. In the 
 midst of the journeyings of the camp, and over- 
 whelmed as he was with the fatigues, the cares, the 
 perplexities and responsibilities of his office as the 
 leader of Israel, his pious solicitude for Hobab, his 
 brother-in-law, breaks out in the tender and touch- 
 ing invitation — " Come thou with us, and we will 
 do thee good." That this is not a mere invitation 
 to Hobab to become a civil member of the Hebrew 
 commonwealth, and to participate only in its tempo- 
 ral blessings, is obvious from tiic words that immedi- 
 ately follow — '^ for the Lord hath spoken good con- 
 
36 SERMON 11. 
 
 cerning Israel." It was the spiritual blessings se- 
 cured in the covenant with Abraham— the instruc- 
 tion of inspired prophets — the promises of a Mes- 
 siah, protection from the idolatrous corruptions of 
 the world — divine guidance in the moral pilgrimage 
 to eternity, shadowed forth by the pillar of cloud 
 and of fire that went before them in the wilderness, 
 and divine influence to fit for that heavenly Canaan 
 of which the earthly was a type, — these constituted 
 the good which the Lord had spoken concerning 
 Israel, and in which Moses devoutly desired that his 
 brother-in-law might participate. Were we to judge 
 by the conduct of the great majority of mankind, we 
 would suppose that it was disadvantageous, if not 
 disastrous, \o be connected with the church of God. 
 Worldly men avoid her communion, as though it 
 would do them evil, and not good, to have their allot- 
 ment within her sacred pale. But our text falsifies 
 this practical sentiment of the ungodly, and indicates 
 directly that there are great advantages in a siiicere 
 cordial connexion with the people of God. " Come 
 thou with us, and we will do thee good, for the Lord 
 hath spoken good concerning Israel." This is the 
 language we would address to our friends and rela- 
 tives who are out of Christ — to all who are aliens 
 from the commonwealth of Israel. True, we are in 
 the wilderness, but the bright cloud of Jehovah's pre- 
 sence is with us, and we are journeying to the celes- 
 tial Canaan, the Mount Zion above, under a divine, 
 an almighty convoy. "Come with us, and we will 
 do thee good." Now, if you will cordially accept 
 this invitation, and voluntarily and sincerely connect 
 yourselves with God's spiritual Israel, then I will 
 
SERMON II. 37 
 
 endeavour in the following particulars, to show you 
 the advantages of such a connexion. 
 
 1. You will have the advantage of being connect- 
 ed with a community luho have fixed priiicipleSj 
 and may he trusted. No man is safe in associating 
 with, and becoming a member of a community whose 
 principles d^re. fluctuating or doubtful. 
 
 And no combination of unregenerate men ever 
 were, or ever will be, governed by stable and unal- 
 terable principles. The commercial, and especially 
 the political history, of the last fifteen years, amply 
 attest the truth of this declaration. Most worldly 
 men have so pliant a virtue, that principles with them 
 will yield to party and self-interest, and as these 
 latter are often shifting, so the former must undergo 
 a corresponding change. A change in political ma- 
 jorities, a preponderance on this side or that, of the 
 great balance of popular sentiment, a change in the 
 currents of commerce or manufactures, the siiifting 
 breath of public opinion, are producing constant fluc- 
 tuations in the principles which sway worldly men. 
 Of what advantage are the friendship, the patronage, 
 and proffered favours of a community with such fickle 
 and mutable principles? Who would trust such a 
 community, or feel himself safe for an hour, unless, 
 indeed, he hadakindof prophetic prescience, by which 
 he could foresee the evil of the coming change, and 
 thus avoid it — and this is the reason why wicked 
 men exercise so little real confidence in each other, 
 l^ut the true spiritual Israel, are a community with 
 fixed principles. In the church of God, notwith- 
 standing its hypocrites and formalists, we can find the 
 sway of the higher and nobler principles of human 
 4 
 
3S SERMON II. 
 
 nature, stable and permanent. Their principles are 
 not derived from the manners and customs of the 
 world, are not connected merely with selfish inte- 
 rests, and sensual earthly policy, and are therefore not 
 subject to the fitful shiftings of such interests and 
 policy. The principles of the household of faith, 
 the great spiritual commonwealth of Israel, are de- 
 rived from heaven. The laws of moral honesty, 
 the laws of truth, the laws of strict distributive jus- 
 tice, the laws of benevolence, and the statutes regu- 
 lating social intercourse, and prescribing social duties, 
 which are found in the Bible ; these constitute the 
 great code, the common law of the spiritual com- 
 munity: — a code with an authority divine, with a 
 sanction solemn and weighty, as the awards of eterni- 
 ty. These laws are transcribed by the finger of God, 
 not on the cold tables of stone in the unrenewed 
 understanding, but on the fleshly tables of the re- 
 generated hearts of his people. These form the 
 high and commanding principles which govern "the 
 Israel of God;" principles founded on the eternal 
 and immutable basis of right, reaching from the 
 throne of God, and anchored immoveably in the re- 
 generated moral nature of man. They are by ne- 
 cessity, then, fixed, stable principles. Let the 
 world calumniate sincere Christians as it may, they 
 are permanently governed by these principles. 
 Though they "swear to their own hurt, ihey change 
 not.^^ There is a steadiness, a general uniformity 
 in their conduct and course, on which you can safely 
 calculate. What an advantage to be connected with 
 a community who have clear, well defined, fixed, un- 
 changeable principles, and the constant presence and 
 
SERMON II. 39 
 
 power of a renewed, enlightened, quickened con- 
 science, to put them in practice f Come witli us, then, 
 ye wlio are tossed, bewildered, and betrayed by tlie 
 perpetual (luctuation of worldly principles,and we will 
 do you good; we will give you the right hand of fel- 
 lowship, and welcome you to a community in whom 
 you may confide — a community where you may re- 
 gard yourselves safe — where your feelings, your re- 
 putation, your interests, your happiness, will he 
 guarded and guarantied to you, by the operation of 
 principles as steady and changeless on the whole, as 
 the great laws of nature. 
 
 II. A second advantage of such a connexion is, 
 that you will be in contact with the 7?iinds of a 
 community more intelligent^ better informed in 
 the knowledge of divine things, than any other 
 portion of society. I know there are associations 
 of men that are more scientific, that have more of 
 this world's philosophy, and a wider range of human 
 knowledge, than any promiscuous Christian commu- 
 nity or individual church. And yet, perhaps, the 
 whole commonwealth of Israel for the last three cen- 
 turies, would, in point of human learning, bear a 
 flattering comparison with any community of equal 
 numbers out of her pale. But human knowledge, 
 however valuable, is not all that the wants and ca- 
 pacities of the soul demand. It has no direct influ- 
 ence in the formation of moral character, and no 
 necessary connexion with the great issues of a fu- 
 ture and eternd state. To know the 'Miving and 
 true God, and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent," ttiat 
 involves the mighty interests of eternal life. This 
 knowledge belongs only to God's spiritual com- 
 nuinitv, and everv mind in that community has an 
 
40 SERMON II. 
 
 individual, experimental participation in this know- 
 ledge. It has not been, and cannot be, acquired by 
 the unaided powers of the natural man. The Holy 
 Ghost in his divine illuminations hath revealed it to 
 each regenerated soul, and it is there only that it 
 shines as a light in a dark place. In the most un- 
 lettered, ignorant, obscure individual in that commu- 
 nity, this celestial spark is kindled and glowing. In 
 its pure shinings he sees trutiis, and acquires a 
 knowledge of divine things denied to the most stre- 
 nuous efforts of the wise of this world, who by all 
 their wisdom knew not God in the days of Paul, and 
 know him not yet! The spiritual Israel are still, as 
 of old, the only depositories of the true knowledge 
 of God and divine things. Why should it not be 
 so? They have still the lively oracles of God, an 
 intelligent ministry — the administration of the Holy 
 Spirit to enlighten the mind and apply truth and the 
 verification of that blessed promise and prediction — 
 " they shall all be taught of God,''^ Now, what 
 an advantage to be connected with such a commu- 
 nity, to be in constant contact with minds thus stored 
 with spiritual knowledge. For each one, by the 
 help of God, and in the use of means too, has to ac- 
 quire this knowledge, a knowledge indispensable 
 to his salvation, for himself. It cannot be imparted 
 to him by charm or enchantment, nor can it be in- 
 herited from intelligent, pious parents. In order to 
 judge of, and to appreciate the advantage in gaining 
 this knowledge, to be derived from constant contact 
 with mature, well-informed Christian minds, just ad- 
 vert, for a moment, to the slow progress of the con- 
 vert from heathenism, who joins a church consisting 
 wholly of native converts. Suppose, if you please. 
 
SKU.MOX 1[. 41 
 
 an indivitlual in lliis land, of no better capacities, and 
 of no more religious knowledge than the convert in 
 the heathen land, to join a Christian church here at 
 the same time that that convert joins a native Chris- 
 tian church there. How slow will be his progress 
 in the knowledge of divine things compared with 
 the one here ! Why? Has not the heathen con- 
 vert the same God, the same converting and sancti- 
 fying grace, the same Bible, an intelligent pastor and 
 preacher? Yes, but God works by means, and one 
 of the great means of r«/?2W advancement in spiritual 
 knowledge is wanting there, that is, that constant 
 intercourse, that social contact with older, riper, 
 more richly furnished Christian minds, whicii here 
 exerts an incessant silent influence on the young 
 convert's growth in knowledge, not unlike the unob- 
 served but all-powerful influence of the sunshine and 
 dews of heaven on vegetation. Come with us, then, 
 ye who have never hitherto known tlie communion 
 of saints in knowledge, nor the mutual radiations of 
 truth between minds, nor have felt the play of the 
 higliest and noblest sympathies of your intellectual 
 nature. Come with us, and we will do you good, 
 we will bring you into sweet fellowship with minds 
 who will make your social affections the medium 
 through which in every walk of life they will impart 
 liberally to you the results of their own ripened 
 Christian experience, the rich stores of their know- 
 ledge of divine things. 
 
 HI. You will have the advantage of the restraints 
 of the Christian sentiment, and the injluence of 
 the Christian example of this community in 
 forming your own religious character. 
 
 \* 
 
42 SERMON II. 
 
 Next in importance to the conversion of the soul, 
 is the religious character which it shall form and 
 sustain through life. This will determine the mea- 
 sure of its confidence in the soundness of its own 
 conversion, and the safety of its spiritual state ; for 
 no soul destitute of a consistent, harmonious, well 
 proportioned religious character, can rationally pos- 
 sess a good hope. This, then, will determine, also, 
 the measure of the soul's solid spiritual joys, and 
 above all, it will be the true criterion of the extent 
 of its usefulness in the world ; for it is not profession, 
 nor hope, nor joy, but a strong bright religious 
 character, that God uses as the instrument of bless- 
 ing the world and influencing its moral destinies. 
 Any thing, then, that furnishes an advantage for 
 forming such a character, is of vital moment to the 
 soul. In the formation of character tivo forces arc 
 required ; the one to ward off from it and protect it 
 against influences directly or indirectly hurtful, and 
 the other to bring to bear upon the character in the 
 most effective form, a positively good influence. 
 Restraints^ therefore, are as important in their place 
 as the positive influence of good example. Now, he 
 who connects himself with the church of God, will 
 have the advantage of both these forces in forming 
 his own religious character. He will have the re- 
 straints of a powerful Christian sentiment; and this 
 is a far more efficient kind of restraint than that of 
 mere precept and prohibition. He will find himself 
 in the midst of a spiritual community, who, notwith- 
 standing individual exceptions, are in the main cha- 
 racterized by a prevalent, exalted, moral sentiment. 
 His remaining depravity, the lingerings of sinful pas*- 
 
SERMON II. 43 
 
 sions an J appetites, that are ever ready to break forth 
 in the absence of restraints, will now be girt about 
 and pressed in on all sides by this pervading senti- 
 ment of the Christian community. The influence of 
 public sentiment on character, is often most striking 
 and wonderful. How human depravity is developed, 
 and with what rank luxuriance it grows in the 
 midst of a corrupt public sentiment, some of the 
 courts of Europe, for centuries, have furnished melan- 
 choly examples. And how it may be repressed, 
 stinted, withered, and almost prevented from show- 
 ing itself, by a widely diffused, lofty. Christian sen- 
 timent, the history of the Puritans amply testi- 
 fies. The influence of such a sentiment is not the 
 less, but the more j)owerful and controlling in its 
 restraints, from its being a silent, unobserved influ- 
 ence, acting every ivhere and always^ like the con- 
 stant and equal pressure of the atmosphere on all ter- 
 restrial objects. Happy is the man who in his spi- 
 ritual conflict, in the great struggle of his soul to 
 ward off the lawless violence of those causes that 
 combine to injure his character, thrice happy he 
 who can avail himself of the powerful, permanent, 
 every where present restraints of a pure Christian 
 sentiment ! He has all the advantage of one of the 
 great forces that form religious character. He has 
 also the advantage of the direct and positive influ- 
 ence of holy example. For, calumniate Christians 
 as the world may, it is still within the pale of the 
 church that are to be found all the brightest and 
 best examples of pure living piety. These must, by 
 the very constitution of our nature, act powerfully in 
 forming religions character. Such examples arc the 
 
44 SERMON II. 
 
 practical cxtraplijication, the imbodying and ex- 
 hibiting in every-day life, of the principles and sen- 
 timent of Christians. They are true religion lived 
 out, and appealing to the cognizance and conscience 
 of the man. They are the examples, too, of men of 
 like passions with himself, and in similar circum- 
 stances. This assures him that, by the grace of God, 
 it is practicable for him to make the same attainments. 
 These examples, therefore, have an inherent life and 
 warmth different from the marvellous and romantic 
 histories of calendar saints. These are the exam- 
 ples of his now living brethren of the spiritual com- 
 munity. They take hold, therefore, on an active and 
 powerful principle of his nature — the principle of 
 imitation. These examples also operate on his so- 
 cial principles, and connect by a vital sympathy and 
 union, their controlling influence with all the exer- 
 cises of his heart. Now, if man is made to be influ- 
 enced by example, if by a law of his nature he grows 
 like those with whom he most associates, you can see 
 at once the immense advantage in forming religious 
 character possessed by him who joins God's Israel, and 
 feels the constant influence of their holy example. 
 Come with us, then, ye who have resolved to form a 
 religious character. Escape from the lax moral sen- 
 timent, and the still worse example of the world. 
 Come with us, we will do you good — we will throw- 
 around you the powerful restraints of a pure Christian 
 sentiment, and rear bulwarks of imperishable strength 
 between you and the dangers that threaten your 
 character from without, whilst we will pour on you 
 the light and warmth, the melting and moulding in- 
 fluence of Christian example, to form your inner man 
 according to the model of the glorious gospel. 
 
SERMON II. 45 
 
 IV. Another advantagje of the connexion is, that 
 you lolll have the holy sympathies, the prayers 
 and the affections of this communily to assist 
 you in cultivatiw^ the graces of your own heart. 
 The supreme selfishness of the world makes its soci- 
 ety in the main heartless. Each unrenewed mind 
 is bent on its own individual interests and pleasures, 
 in disregard or at tlie expense of others. An in- 
 timate sympathy and benevolent afleclion amongst 
 such minds were not to be expected. Ever}^ man 
 caring only for his own things, connects himself 
 with his fellow men no farther than is necessary to 
 secure his selfish ends, and beyond that leaves them 
 to shift and struggle for themselves, as best they 
 can. Some honourable exceptions to this, amongst 
 worldly men, like all exceptions, only establish the 
 general rule. But such is not the state of God's 
 spiritual community; they have "not so learned 
 Christ.'' 1 admit, that within the church you may 
 find some heartless professors of religion, like Judas 
 Iscariot of old. But it must also be admitted, that you 
 will find there too, and there only, the play of the 
 warmest, most generous and holy sympathies of re- 
 generated human nature. Every pious heart feels a 
 bond of union, a gush of spiritual sympathy connect- 
 ing it with the renewed individual who joins this 
 spiritual community. None of this household of 
 faith have any rival interest, any unsanctificd com- 
 petition to produce jealousy and alienate them from 
 their brother. They know his experience, his con- 
 flicts, his joys and griefs, his trials and temptations, 
 his tastes, his desires, pursuits, hopes, and fears, for 
 these are all their own. They feel, therefore, a high 
 
46 SERMON II. 
 
 and holy congeniality with him, which naturally 
 begets an intimate, endearing, yearning, spiritual 
 sympathy with him. They feel that he is one of 
 them, and one with themselves; and knowing the 
 warfare in which he has enlisted by joining them, 
 and the hardness he will have to endure, the dan- 
 gers and the tremendous struggle of his fight of faith, 
 their congeniality and sympathy with him lead them, 
 very naturally, to pour out their prayers to God in 
 his behalf. Cannot you, my dear hearers, who are 
 the older members of this church, testify to the truth 
 of this in your recent experience? Have not your 
 whole souls yearned over those who have lately be- 
 come connected with you, and your ardent pra37ers 
 gone up to heaven, that they may endure unto the 
 end ? 
 
 And now, with their congeniality and spiritual 
 sympathy with him, and their fervent, importunate 
 prayers for his eternal welfare, will not the purest 
 affections of their hearts necessarily be called forth to 
 him in the exercise of a true scriptural brotherly 
 love ? What an unspeakable advantage will all this 
 be to one who has to cultivate the graces of the Spirit 
 in his own heart. How can those graces grow and 
 thrive in the cold and frosty atmosphere of selfishness 
 that pervades worldly society ? How can they grow 
 in the dark and chilly air of the cloister? The whole 
 doctrine of seclusion, of hermitages, monasteries and 
 nunneries, contradicts its verj^ genius, and is a libel on 
 Christianit)". The religion of the gospel is essentially 
 a social religion. The first words of our Lord's prayer 
 prove it to be so — ^^ Our Father.'^ It is the religion 
 of a community in its every-day duties and relations. 
 
SEKMON II. 47 
 
 domestic, social, civil and political. Many of the 
 Christian graces are purely of a social nature,founded 
 on the domestic and social relations which bind hu- 
 man society together, and some of these graces refer 
 exclusive!}/ to the spiritual community, such as 
 brotherly love, charity, Christian reproof and exhor- 
 tation, mutual prayer and mutual forgiveness of faults. 
 Now, how can such graces be cultivated with any 
 hope of success by the individual who does not con- 
 nect himself with the church of God, but remains 
 outwardly a member of the great community of a 
 world lying in wickedness? No! he must join 
 himself to the spiritual Israel, take advantage of the 
 social principle of our nature, bring himself within 
 the sphere of the sympathies, the prayers, and the 
 affections of Christian brethren; then he will find that 
 the spirit of devotion is delightfully contagions : 
 heart will meet heart, like will beget like: a genial, 
 social warmth will come over his soul, a spring time 
 to the graces of his spirit, when the dews of Christian 
 sympathy, and the balmy breath of prayer and Chris- 
 tian affection, will promote a new growth, a vigorous 
 vitality. These are the circumstances, these the 
 aids in connexion with the word and ordinances of 
 God, by which the soul is to advance in the divine 
 life till it receives the end of its faith. Come with 
 us, then, ye who have vainly supposed that you could 
 be as good without a profession of religion as with 
 it, that you could cultivate the graces of the Spirit in 
 your hearts, as well in the cold soil of the world, as 
 in the sunny garden of your God. Come with us, 
 and we will do you good. Our holy sympathies 
 will distil on your hearts as the dew on Ilermon: 
 
48 SERMON II. 
 
 our united prayers will rise to heaven in your be- 
 half, the light and warmth of our pure brotherly 
 love will form an atmosphere round your souls to 
 cherish all your graces till they grow to an immor- 
 tal maturity. 
 
 V. This connexion will give you the advantage 
 of that shield of God which is over this spiritual 
 community^ for it is a divinely defended and pro- 
 tected community. The whole history of the 
 church from its commencement, proves that it enjoys 
 a divine defence and protection, not extended to any 
 other community of mankind. When we contem- 
 plate the gigantic malice of earth and hell, their com- 
 bined stratagems, their overwhelming majorities, 
 their oft-repeated and violent attacks, the storm and 
 thunder of their might against the weak and defence- 
 less commonwealth of Israel: the conviction is irre- 
 sistible that the great shield of Jehovah must have 
 been held by his own almighty right hand over this 
 community, to preserve them from utter annihilation. 
 The truth and faithfulness of God are pledged for the 
 defence and safety of the church, as they are not 
 pledged to any other community. A few only of 
 the numerous, great, and precious promises, respect- 
 ing Zion, can now be cited. "Can a woman forget 
 her sucking child, that she should not have compas- 
 sion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, 
 yet will I not forget thee. Behold I have graven 
 thee upon the palms of my hands, thy walls are con- 
 tinually before me." "0, Israel, thou shalt not be 
 forgotten of me." "Nevertheless, my loving-kind- 
 ness will I not utterly take from him, nor suffer my 
 faithfulness to fail; my covenant vvill I not break, nor 
 
SERMON II. 49 
 
 alter the thing that has gone out of my mouth.'' — 
 "No weapon formed against thee shall prosper." 
 "God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; 
 God shall help her, and that right early." This is a 
 part of the "good which the Lord hath spoken concern- 
 ing Israel," These are the pledges of his eternal love 
 and faithfulness, to guard his church as the apple of 
 his eye. As we have said, the very existence, pro- 
 gress, and perpetuity of the church, encountering, as 
 it has done, at every step, the malignant forces of 
 earth and hell, prove that there is an incessant, un- 
 seen. Almighty power of defence and protection ex- 
 clusively her own, and rendering her safety certain 
 amidst all the ruin and desolation of worldly commu- 
 nities and empires. Is it not an unspeakable advan- 
 tage in a world of danger, and amidst our mortal 
 weakness and our mighty invisible foes, to be con- 
 nected with this spiritual community, and brought 
 within the sphere of that all-comprehending and 
 irresistible defence and protection, which assures you 
 that "a hair of your head shall not perish?" Come 
 with us, then, ye who have hitherto held your peri- 
 lous position in the great community of the world 
 which is without spiritual protection from its God. 
 Escape from the tremendous exposure of the wilder- 
 ness to the city of our God. Come with us, we will 
 do you good. You shall be welcomed under the 
 great shield, and shall dwell at ease under the shadow 
 of the Almighty. Between you and all the dire 
 hostilities of earth and hell that war against your 
 souls, there shall be placed and held the "thick bosses 
 of Jehovah's buckler." 
 
 VI. Lastly. By thus coming and casting in 
 5 
 
50 SERMON II. 
 
 your lot with the spiritual Israel, you will have 
 the advanidige of p aril cip a ting in the exalted hopes 
 and anticipations of this community/. The hu- 
 man mind, by its very constitution, is led to in- 
 dulge in great hopes and high anticipations. There 
 is an elevation, a scope and a vastness in the range 
 of the passion of hope, which carry the soul above 
 and beyond this world, and is no mean proof of its 
 immortality. Now, no worldly community have 
 plans and objects before them of sufficient amplitude 
 and grandeur, to limit and satisfy the aspirations of 
 deathless hope. The politics, diplomacy, and wealth 
 of nations — the enterprise of empires, the conquest 
 of the world, and the possession of its kingdoms, 
 with all their glory, could not bring back hope from 
 its sublime excursions, make it alight, fold its great 
 wings, and rest contented on this globe. No! it 
 mounts and soars still, leaving this world in the dim 
 distance, and grasping at The infinite as its portion, 
 and The eternal as its duration. Now, God's spi- 
 ritual Israel is the only community on earth whose 
 objects of hope and anticipation are sufficiently vast, 
 lofty, and enduring, to satisfy the unlimited and all- 
 grasping capacities of this eager passion. The ob- 
 jects of hope and anticipation to the church, are not 
 confined within the narrow boundaries of earth and 
 time. And yet, ev^en her hopes that pertain to this 
 world, are by far the most exalted and grand, that 
 belong to its future history. They do not refer 
 merely to the advancement of science, civilization, 
 refinement, national wealth, aggrandizement, and 
 glory. No ! the hopes of the church fix on nobler 
 results than these, yet to be realized in this fallen 
 
SERMON ir. 51 
 
 world. They refer to the moral condition of man, 
 and contemplate the grand issue of the world's con- 
 version to God! 
 
 The church confidently anticipates that golden 
 millennial age when this apostate globe, brought 
 back in universal allegiance to its God, shall be per- 
 vaded with a righteousness, peace, and joy in the 
 Holy Ghost, which will render the kingdom of 
 Christ triumphant, and restore to earth a portion of 
 the innocence and bliss of its primeval paradise ! — 
 But the main objects of Israel's hopes rise above, 
 and stretch far beyond this world. The most ob- 
 scure, neglected, and forgotten member of this com- 
 monwealth, is permitted to indulge a hope more 
 bright, more exalted, than ever blessed the mighti- 
 est potentate of earth. He is permitted to hope for 
 the ultimate, absolute ]je7'fection of his whole na- 
 ture^ corporeal and spiritual ! — to hope that his soul, 
 though now environed by evil, and still suffering 
 under the effects of the apostacy in Eden, will, by 
 divine aid, struggle and break away from its present 
 darkness and thraldom, grow in grace and know- 
 ledge, attain " the measure of the stature of a perfect 
 man in Christ Jesus," and be presented at last with- 
 out spot, and blameless in love before the infinite 
 God ! Nor does he despair of this frail mortal part 
 with which the soul is now connected. For that, 
 too, redeeming love has made a kind provision, and 
 hope looks forward to the resurrection ; and the tri- 
 umphant language of Christian anticipation, view- 
 ing Christ as the '^ first fruit," is, " Who shall change 
 our vile bodies and fashion them like unto his glo- 
 rious body." All the members of this spiritual 
 
52 SERxMON II. 
 
 community are permitted to hope that the great Jeho- 
 vah himself will be the eternal portion of their souls. 
 They are heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ. 
 Renewed and united to their Saviour, reconciled, 
 and at peace with their God, their souls panting and 
 following hard after holiness, they anticipate seeing 
 Jesus as he is, being like him, and holding an eter- 
 nal communion face to face with the infinite Jeho- 
 vah ! They hope to enjoy this, too, in a " better 
 country, that is a heavenly — a city which hath 
 foundations, whose builder and maker is God.'' — 
 " Far from noise, from tumult far, beyond the fly- 
 ing clouds, beyond the stars, and all this passing 
 scene," Israel's hopes fix on a vast, glorious, eternal 
 vvorld — a world all light and love, for " God and 
 the Lamb are the light thereof;" the world of har- 
 monious, hol}^ minds, forming thrones and domi- 
 nions, principalities and powers, yet a world of un- 
 broken peace, of unmarred congeniality, of unend- 
 ing repose ; a world, too, of harps and songs, of tri- 
 umphal processions and glad hosannahs; a world all 
 pervaded with the most perfect models of immortal 
 beauty, and the most stupendous disclosures of eter- 
 nal truth ; a world of mutual, sinless, social aflfec- 
 tions, of untiring, benevolent activity, where all the 
 perfected powers of the undying mind will find full 
 play, and the redeemed move harmoniously in their 
 respective spheres, rising higher, and coming nearer 
 to the eternal throne, in knowledge, holiness, and 
 bliss, through an endless duration. 
 
 What objects of hope and anticipation to the com- 
 monwealth of Israel! The dim and distant glance 
 that we can now take of them dazzles and blinds 
 
SKRMON II. 5S 
 
 mortal vision. What an advantage to he connected 
 with this community, and to participate in sucli 
 hopes and anticipations! What an influence it must 
 have on ihe character — what a light it must shed on 
 the way, and what a resistless attraction exert on 
 the soul, in its onward and upward Christian career! 
 Come with us, then, ye who have hitherto been 
 without these hopes, and yet have felt the restless- 
 ness of this passion of your nature, in its struggles, 
 bounding and beating against the barriers which the 
 darkness and littleness of earth have reared around 
 it. Oh,, come with us; we will do you good, by 
 bringing you to share with us the Christian's hope 
 and anticipations of glory! Do you say you can 
 have this hope between your own soul and God, 
 though you are still outwardly connected with the 
 world? You may for awhile; yet it will be shorn 
 of its brightest beams, and but half enjoyed; for it 
 is a social hope, borrowing rather than lending or 
 losing lustre by being blended with the aggregate 
 splendour of the common hopes of a great commu- 
 nity. Come with us, then; be of the spiritual Is- 
 rael; open your whole souls to the objects of their 
 hopes and anticipations; enter, by a sacred sympa- 
 thy, into d. participation in these hopes and blissful 
 prospects: then shall ye know what is the riches of 
 God's grace and the hope of yoxir calling, by feel- 
 ing yourselves bound, by a new and nearer relation, 
 to the blessedness and glories of an eternal heaven. 
 We see from this subject, in the first place ^ what 
 a distinguished privilege the yoitng convert enjoys 
 in being permitted to connect himself at once 
 with the church of God. What a spiritual home 
 5» 
 
54 SERMON II. 
 
 does the church furnish. What a kind mother nurse 
 does she prove to the "babes in Christ!" Here 
 their spiritual infancy is watched over with a holy 
 maternal tenderness! No capriciousness, no fickle- 
 ness of principles and purposes, to betray the un- 
 suspecting confidence of the young convert, or 
 blight the first buddings of his gracious affections. 
 Here shines the light of Christian knowledge, mild- 
 ly attempered to his newly opened infantile eye! 
 Here are the salutary restraints of a pure and pow- 
 erful Christian sentiment, to repress and correct the 
 ardent, undisciplined, inexperienced feelings of spi- 
 ritual youth. Here is the power of holy example, 
 to act on the imitative principle, and form the cha- 
 racter in the very morning of the Christian life, 
 when that principle is strongest, and the character 
 most easily moulded! Here are strong spiritual 
 sympathies, ardent unceasing prayers, holy yearn- 
 ing affections, forming an atmosphere around him, 
 and furnishing him the greatest facilities for culti- 
 vating the graces of the Spirit in his own heart. 
 Here is the broad wing of the Almighty, under 
 whose feathers he may hide his infantile weakness 
 — the mighty shield of Jehovah to protect him from 
 all fatal harm in this most perilous and defenceless 
 period of his whole Christian life ! Here are objects 
 of hope and anticipation sufficiently grand and ex- 
 alted to furnish ample scope for the unwearied ener- 
 gies of this youthful capacity !! 0, what a privi- 
 lege for the young convert to be permitted at once 
 to come directly within the pale of God's church, 
 and into the participation of such blessings! I trust, 
 my dear hearers, that those of you who have lately 
 
SERMON II. 55 
 
 connected yourselves with this church, highly ap- 
 preciate, and are determined to improve this, your 
 distinguished privilege. I know, if your hearts are 
 right, that you do ; — Yes, the language of your souls 
 this day, as you contemplate with adoring gratitude, 
 the grace of God which has brought you into this 
 connexion, will be — 
 
 '' Why was I made to hear his voice, 
 
 And enter while there's room, 
 When thousands make a wretched choice, 
 
 And rather starve than cornel" 
 0, regard this, your connexion, as the most sacred 
 you can ever form on earth, and the privilege which 
 it confers on you, as the greatest that you can ever en- 
 joy this side heaven ! And here, let me drop you one 
 word of counsel. Beware, I pray you, of beginning 
 at once to search out, dwell on, and talk of the 
 faults of some professors of religion in the church 
 with which you have become connected. Doubtless, 
 it has its share of Judases, Simon Maguses, and De- 
 metriuses. But, young converts, ^oz* had better let 
 them alone! A disposition to catch and carp at 
 their faults, will do them no good, and you a great 
 deal of harm ! It will certainly destroy, in a great 
 measure, the benefit that you ought to derive from 
 your connexion with the church. It will withdraw 
 your attention from, and blind you to all the real ex- 
 cellency imbodied in the Church, just as the man 
 who is for ever looking through a smoked glass at 
 the spots on the sun, soon becomes insensible to the 
 magnitude and splendour of that glorious orb! I 
 have seen the disastrous effccls of this disposition, 
 and solemnly warn you against it. It will foster 
 spiritual pride, promote in you the growth and sway 
 
Db SERMON ir. 
 
 of a censorious, self-righteous, meddlesome, over- 
 bearing, back-biting sjiirit, that will destroy your 
 own peace, and disturb that of your brethren, pre- 
 vent your growth in grace, injure your good name, 
 annihilate your usefulness, and at last bring you into 
 a striking resemblance to the very characters whose 
 faults you thus dwell upon, and which you profess 
 to mourn over and to hate. 
 
 Finally. We see from this subject, what a so- 
 lemn pledge the Church gives to those who enter 
 her communion, "Come thou with us, and we 
 will do thee good.^^ This is a comprehensive pro- 
 mise, a great and solemn pledge! It is nothing less 
 than a formal engagement to promote the spiritual 
 and eternal good of each soul that becomes connect- 
 ed with her. We pledge ourselves, before God, 
 angels, and men, to be "helpers" of that soul's 
 "faith," to watch over, instruct, exhort, warn, 
 charge, and rebuke it, with "all long-suffering," and 
 with "the meekness and gentleness of Christ ;" that 
 we will exert ourselves to the utmost to assist it in 
 securing all its spiritual and eternal interests ; that 
 joined heart and heart, and standing shoulder to 
 shoulder, we will make common cause with it in the 
 great fight of faith, and endeavour to impart a 
 strength, and inspire it wMth a courage that will at 
 last bring it off more than conqueror through him 
 that loved it ! ! Now, it is high time that this church 
 should lay to heart the overwhelming solemnities 
 of this pledge, and ask itself before God to-day, how 
 it has redeemed the same hitherto. Have we a feel- 
 ing of individual responsibility in this matter? Have 
 our lives and conversation, our holy influence, our 
 
SERMON II. 57 
 
 whole example, been such as to lurnish a practical 
 fulfilment of our great promise? Have we faith- 
 fully redeemed the pledge which we gave to those 
 that have come into the church since we did? Have 
 the older members of this church already gathered 
 round and become acquainted with the converts 
 that have lately joined them here? Do you feel a 
 peculiar parental tenderness over these babes -in 
 Christ? Are you taking them by the hands, and 
 teaching them to walk? — watching, yearning, pray- 
 ing over them at every step? Are you circum- 
 spect yourselves, peculiarly so, for their sakes, 
 that you may give them the benefit of your Chris- 
 tian, holy example? In a word, have you, in so- 
 lemn earnest, set about doing them good in every 
 way possible in your present circumstances? These 
 questions are laid upon the consciences of the older 
 members of this church, to be answered silently to 
 their God to-day ! Would that we were fully awake 
 to the vital importance of this matter; and that our 
 young converts might enjoy from us those great ad- 
 vantages which God designed should result from 
 their connexion with his church. Oh, '' what man- 
 ner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversa- 
 tion and godliness!" 
 
 Of one thing we may rest assured, the good we 
 have promised to them can never be done — our 
 pledge can never be redeemed with the stinted at- 
 tainments and dwarfish standard of holiness, the 
 backsliding barrenness and spiritual desolations, 
 which so mournfully mark the history of many in 
 this day who have long had a name and a place in 
 the commonwealth of God's Israel. 
 
5S SERMON III. 
 
 SERMON III. 
 
 " He went away sorrowfuL" — Matt. xix. 22. 
 
 This brief sentence is fraught with a deep and 
 melancholy interest. It brings to view a kind of 
 sorrow which makes an irresistible appeal to the 
 sympathies of a regenerated heart — the sorrow of 
 an ingenuous youthful mind, torn, by a concern for 
 its future life, in conflict with its taste and its pre- 
 ference for the things of the present. Our text 
 closes the evangelical narrative of that lovely young 
 man who came running and kneeling at the feet of 
 Jesus, asked him, — " Good Master, what good thing 
 shall I do, that I may inherit eternal life?'' A 
 question of deeper, graver import, could scarcely be 
 uttered by man. From the person who asked it, 
 the manner in which it was put, and the person to 
 whom it was addressed, we cannot doubt, but that 
 it was spoken in sincerity, and with profound emo- 
 tion. This young man was very serious — he was a 
 true inquirer, and yet, for aught that the records of 
 earth show, he never was any thing more than a 
 mere inquirer. And his is one of a multitude of 
 similar cases, in the history of men who enjoy the 
 ministrations of the gospel, where the understanding 
 has been fully convinced of the reality and import- 
 ance of religion — the heart been affected with in- 
 tense feeling on the subject, and the man impelled 
 
SERMON III. 59 
 
 to some efforts to secure his salvation, and yet, at 
 last, he has voluntarily preferred the riches, or the 
 pleasures of the world, to that eternal life of his 
 soul, which, for a season, created much anxiety, and 
 led to inquiry and effort for its attainment. 
 
 Men may thus forfeit their salvation, and plunge 
 into the world, without becoming flagrantly vi- 
 cious, or losing their reputation in the eyes of their 
 fellow-men. The causes that widen the separation 
 between God and an alienated soul, are not always 
 strikingly perceptible to the individual himself, or 
 to others around him. These causes generally ope- 
 rate, unseen by all but the Omniscient eye. The 
 secret love of wealth, was the cause of this young 
 man's departure from Christ, as a teacher and Sa- 
 viour, to whom he had eagerly applied for direction 
 and counsel in the concerns of eternal life. Yet 
 this hidden love of mammon had not influenced him 
 to become a thief, or a robber, or unjust, or an ex- 
 tortioner; nor did it probably after the date of his 
 going away. We may reasonably suppose, that he 
 continued a correct, moral, respectable member of 
 society, and considered himself still disposed to pay 
 great regard to religion. Nay, he doubtless, still 
 expected to obtain eternal life, after he had com- 
 pleted the circle of those alluring pleasures which 
 his great possessions promised. Now we may take 
 the case of this young man, as an example which, 
 in its principal features, will suit the condition of 
 all those who have been awakened to serious con- 
 cern for their salvation, but have banished their 
 convictions and gone back to the world. As the 
 cause of this sad lapse, there is always some secret 
 
60 SERMON III. 
 
 reserve — if not the love of wealth — the love of gay- 
 ungodly companions — the love of the applause and 
 flattery of others — the love of dress and personal 
 appearance — the desire to retain the interest which 
 they excite towards themselves, by the exercise of a 
 light, gay, worldly spirit. One or more of these, 
 or it may be pride, or self-righteousness constitutes 
 the starting point of their departure from their se- 
 riousness, from Christ and salvation. " He went 
 away sorrowful.'^ 
 
 Let us now contemplate several things that mark 
 this melancholy course of an individual, from a state 
 of seriousness and concern for his soul, to utter 
 thoughtlessness and stupidity in sin. 
 
 I. The first thing that strikes us, is, that this is 
 not a course in which the man loses all sensibility 
 on the subject of religion at once. He has some 
 acute and indescribably mournful feelings, when he 
 commences his departure from Christ, and gives up 
 for the present his hope of securing eternal life. It 
 would be strange, indeed, if the human heart could 
 become callous at once, on a subject so deeply en- 
 grossing to all man's dearest hopes and direst fears 
 for two worlds ! Who, but a fiend, could avoid 
 some tender and even agitating emotions in that 
 awful crisis of destiny, when the mind deliberately 
 rejects the Saviour, and first commences to turn its 
 back on the holy attractions of the cross? To the 
 young man especially, that must be a most trying, 
 tragic moment. To turn away from that loving cru- 
 cified One, at whose feet the awakened soul has been 
 kneeling, weeping, praying, and inquiring what it 
 must do to be saved— from that Jesus, who still 
 
SERMON III. 61 
 
 yearns over the revolted, ruined soul — who still 
 looks on the departing ingrate, in love and sorrow 
 — who calls him to return by all that is melting in 
 the crucifixion — by all that is winning and subduing 
 in the blood of the atonement — who stretches out 
 his pierced hands to lay gentle hold on that soul, as 
 it is about to forsake its own mercies and lose eter- 
 nal life — what, but a heart of adamant could, with- 
 out feeling, break away from the Son of God, thus 
 wooing, and warning, inviting, and entreating the 
 lost sinner to return and be saved? To any mind 
 of ordinary sensibility, in these first steps of its de- 
 parture, some degree of sorrowful emotion is in- 
 evitable. But more especially will the individual 
 experience a mournful regret, when, for the present, 
 he relinquishes the prospect of heaven and eternal 
 life. Man's self-love, or instinctive desire for hap- 
 piness, would, in such a case, awaken feelings of 
 sadness. The individual feels that he is immortal — 
 that he has hopes which course onward through 
 eternal years, and that provision ought to be made 
 for his enjoyment, beyond the boundaries of earth 
 and time. The heaven which the Bible reveals, is 
 suited to these hopes, and to all the far-reaching de- 
 sires and lofty aspirations of his spiritual nature, and 
 is just what he craves, could he only obtain it with- 
 out submitting to God's terms, and could he go to 
 enjoy it after he has worn himself out in the plea- 
 sures of sin and the pursuits of the world. Hence, 
 when he commences his departure from Christ, it is 
 with a saddened heart — " he went away sorrowful." 
 The scenery and blessed sunlight of paradise, are 
 still in the distant perspective. Pie "casts a long- 
 6 
 
63 SERMON III. 
 
 ing, lingering look behind" him, on the joys at 
 God's right hand, on the rivers of pleasure that are 
 there for evermore. He is very sorrowful to forego 
 the prospect of possessing them hereafter. But he 
 loves " the world, and the things that are in the 
 world " at present, after them his heart ivill go, 
 though his judgment and conscience are impelling 
 him in the opposite direction. He is sorrowful, 
 but still he goes away, preferring the treasures of 
 earth, to the unsearchable riches of Christ, the joys 
 of time, to the bliss of eternity. 
 
 n. The steps in this melancholy departure from 
 seriousness, are gradual — the individual making 
 no sudden and extreme change in his habits of 
 outward attention to religious observances. Such 
 is the constitution of the mind that, in most cases, 
 it cannot shift its habits suddenly, and pass readily 
 to opposite extremes. The individual, therefore, 
 who has been habituated to serious reflection and 
 excited emotions on the great themes of religion, 
 and who has been accustomed to the performance of 
 its external duties, cannot at once reverse these 
 habits. In such instances, the habitual action of the 
 mind and heart, ordinarily ceases by a \eYj gradual 
 process, similar to that by which the waves of the 
 agitated ocean continue after winds are hushed, to 
 course on, though with a slow but sure diminution in 
 volume and force, till at last they subside in a profound 
 calm. If the man who, to-day, is deeply convicted 
 of sin — anxious about his salvation, weeping, and 
 inquiring the way of life — should, to-morrow, find 
 himself totally reckless, hardened, and indifferent, 
 the very suddenness of the change would startle 
 
SERMON in. C3 
 
 him, and prove a probable means of re-awakening a 
 more intense concern for his salvation. But when 
 Satan's wiles and the deceitfulness of his own heart 
 are in sworn league to destroy his seriousness, to 
 lead him away from Christ, and jeopard his eternal 
 life, the plan is, to make the transition from anxiety 
 and inquiry to thoughtlessness and hardened stu- 
 pidity, so gradual, that at no one step shall the 
 sinner be aware of his progress, till the last is taken. 
 The awakened man is warned not to grieve away 
 from his agitated bosom the Holy Spirit, and told 
 that he may do this by simply delaying to come to 
 Christ. Despite the warning, he still delays, and 
 yet he does not perceive that he has lost aught of 
 his seriousness or solicitude about his soul. After 
 tlie lapse of some time, he ceases to go to the meet- 
 ing for inquiry, where he once attended with an 
 anxious, aching spirit. But he persuades himself, 
 that this is no evidence of his declining concern for 
 eternal life, as he now thinks his attendance on such 
 a meeting is not necessary to his salvation, and has 
 not been hitherto, of any marked advantage. He 
 resolves, too, that he will compensate for quitting 
 the place of inquiry, and the posture of an inquirer, 
 by maintaining the more spiritual exercise of secret 
 prayer. For awhile, he fulfils the letter of his 
 resolve, retires alone, and repeats by rote a form of 
 prayer. After some time, however, he becomes 
 more remiss, in this duty, engaging in it, only once, 
 instead of twice or thrice during the day and evening, 
 as formerly; it then dvv'indles into a few broken eja- 
 culations, uttered in sleepiness and exhaustion, after 
 he has retired to his pillow at night, and soon he 
 
64 SERMON III. 
 
 abandons it altogether. But he hopes to render an 
 equivalent for this omission, by attending the weekly 
 lecture and prayer-meetings of the church, which is 
 more than he once did, and more than he sees many 
 professors of religion now do. When a little far- 
 ther advanced in this sad career, it seems to him, that 
 he cannot well attend these meetings as punctually 
 as he used to do, not, as he supposes, because he 
 feels less interest in these religious services, but, 
 somehow, his circumstances do not afford him as 
 much leisure. So he gradually becomes less fre- 
 quent in his attendance, till at last he ceases to be 
 found in the place of social prayer. Now, lest con- 
 science should be startled at this delinquency, he 
 determines that he will be very punctual in his at- 
 tendance on public worship, on the Sabbath, and 
 that should the sanctuary be opened twice or thrice 
 on that day, his willing feet shall that often tread its 
 sacred courts. For awhile^ this resolution is scru- 
 pulously fulfilled. But, in process of time, it seems 
 to him, that the labours and cares of the week are 
 so exhausting, that he needs a portion of that day for 
 physical rest; and the argument is already at com- 
 mand, that he might better stay at home than to 
 sleep, as he sees even members of the church doing 
 every Sabbath, at public worship! And, as it is a 
 universal concession that this is a day of rest, he 
 ceases his punctual attendance in the sanctuary, jus- 
 tified in the step, as he thinks, by the plea, that his 
 absence is necessary to recruit the vigour and pro- 
 mote the well-being of his physical nature. 
 
 Thus, by a gradual and unperceived abatement, 
 he gives up his wakeful anxiety and efforts for sal- 
 
SERMON III. C5 
 
 ration, the process very much resembling the state 
 of the mind, when approaching a condition of soun4 
 sleep. As we approach this condition, impressions 
 on the senses become gradually weaker, the thoughts 
 are gradually withdrawn from exciting subjects, and 
 the mind gradually ceases its control over its own 
 operations, till at last, all the powers are locked up 
 in undisturbed repose. Now, in this physical pro- 
 cess, no man is aware how far he has advanced to- 
 wards a state of sound sleep by each successive step, 
 nor does he know ivheyi the last is taken. He only 
 knows, when aroused again, that he has been asleep. 
 So the awakened sinner, by a process gradual and 
 unpcrceived at the time, sinks into profound and 
 guilty slumbers in his sins, and will scarcely know 
 that he is asleep, or how he came into that state, till 
 God shall either awaken him again b}^ the convict- 
 ing influences of his Holy Spirit, or startle and 
 astound him, by the bursting light of a ruined 
 eternity. And, 
 
 HI. This leads to the obvious remark in the third 
 place, that this is a most deceptive course. It is 
 a melancholy spectacle to see what deep deception 
 is practised on the sinner's mind, in his progress 
 from religious solicitude, to hardened security in 
 his impenitence. He is kept, as by some diabolical 
 spell, from the knowledge of his true moral condi- 
 tion, all the while that he is casting off jiis serious- 
 ness, turning away from his Saviour, and foregoing 
 the hope of eternal life. The retrograde movement 
 is so equable, and his soul is borne along by so in- 
 direct an influence, that at no point in his downward 
 career, is the sinner sensible how far he has gone, 
 6* 
 
66 SERMON III. 
 
 or whither he is tending. Had he, on some occa- 
 sion, formed a decided, bold determination, that 
 then, and there, he would stifle conviction, shake off 
 his seriousness, and plunge headlong into the world 
 again, this would constitute a point in his course of 
 which he could never afterwards be ignorant. But 
 so far from taking at once a stand like this, he is un- 
 willing to admit even to himself that he is actually 
 ceasing to care for his eternal life, and turning away, 
 or that he will turn away from the compassionate 
 Son of God. He persuades himself that he really 
 does not desire to pursue this course. The thought 
 of doing so is even painful to him. True, he feels 
 that all is not right, conscience is not satisfied, and 
 yet he hardly knows whether or not he is criminal 
 in the matter. That there is a difference between his 
 religious feelings now, and some time ago, he must 
 admit; but then he supposes that it is only the novel- 
 ty of his first serious emotions wearing off, and he 
 knows that by a law of mind that could not be ex- 
 pected to continue. He is aware, too, that he feels 
 more keenly now than he did some time before, the 
 allurement and urgency of temporal interests, and 
 has a stronger desire to pursue and possess the things 
 of the world; but he infers that it is not inconsistent 
 with seriousness and piety itself for him to feel thus, 
 for he sees many respectable members of the church 
 who are driving business with an ardour, and an ab- 
 sorbing interest, and who are fired with "the love 
 of money,'' and are accumulating riches with a zeal 
 and a success, that far outstrip some men of no reli- 
 gious pretensions. He naturally concludes that if 
 these members of the church can do so, without 
 
SERMON in. 67 
 
 losing their piety, he may do the same without do- 
 triment to his seriousness or danger to the interests 
 of liis soul. Thus is he deceived and kept from the 
 commencement to tlie close of his wretched career 
 insensible to any striking and ominous change in his 
 feelings. He sees not a way-mark to indicate his 
 progress in this melancholy course. In his own ap- 
 prehension his feelings to-day are not perceptibly on 
 the decline, compared with what they were yester- 
 day, or even a week or a month ago. And then his 
 mind, in this backward wandering, still has moments 
 of solemn reflection, and of excited sensibility too, 
 not unlike those which marked the period when his 
 attention was first awakened to the interests of a fu- 
 ture life. He is assured therefore, as he supposes, 
 that he has not given up all concern for his soul, 
 though he may be inclined to admit that, on the 
 whole, his zeal in this matter is less fresh and fervid 
 than formerly. But to keep this admission from 
 ringing the alarm to conscience, and from rousing 
 his torpid sensibilities, he forms good resolutions of 
 cultivating deeper feelings on this subject, and of ac- 
 tually repenting and turning to God with all his 
 heart, at some more "convenient season" in the fu- 
 ture. He feels great complacency in the strength 
 and sincerity of his determination to attend to the 
 eternal interests of his soul, some time hereafter with 
 more earnestness and anxiety than ever before. He 
 hopes too that the time will come, when all his rela- 
 tions in life, and all the circumstances and incidents 
 of his condition and personal history, will wonder- 
 fully coincide, and concur to enable him witli case 
 to fulfil this determination, and (o seek and secure 
 
68 SERMON iir. 
 
 his eternal life. Thus these idle resolves, and falla- 
 cious hopes respecting the future, lull all fears and 
 apprehensions of losing his present seriousness, till 
 deep deception snares his soul, and entangles it in 
 toils, never to be broken but by the convulsive strug- 
 gles of death and despair! — till God, justly provoked, 
 gives him over to "strong delusion, that he may be- 
 lieve a lie," and dream on of a future repentance, a 
 faith, a hope and a heaven, that will never be his! 
 
 IV. Another fact deserving special notice, is that, 
 when this course terminates, as it will ultimately, in 
 the loss of all serious concern for the soul, the insen- 
 sibility of tfie sinner then is very great. The 
 fearful career that we are contemplating is pre-emi- 
 nently adapted to harden the heart. It induces a 
 callousness, an induration of every susceptibility of 
 tender impression, which constitutes God's mark on 
 the guilty ingrate, who has 'despised his religious 
 birthright, done despite to the Holy Spirit, rejected 
 and trodden under foot the Son of God, trifled with 
 his own convictions and spurned that eternal life 
 which for a season he "sought carefully and with 
 tears." Nor is this mark stamped upon the sinner 
 arbitrarily. 
 
 In the awakening, and relapse of the soul, we can 
 trace the operation of causes adapted according to 
 the very constitution of the mind, to produce the 
 profound and imperturbable stupidity which suc- 
 ceeds. During the period of. religious excitement, 
 the soul is necessarily subject to an incalculable 
 draught on its natural sympathies. Its whole capa- 
 city of deep and troubled emotion, is taxed to the ut- 
 most. Tiie feelings are wrought up to such a pitch 
 
SERMON III. 6y 
 
 of intensity, that when they begin to descend they 
 must, by a law of our nature, sink far below their 
 ordinary level. In the grief of a sudden and sore 
 bereavement, we often witness an exhaustion and 
 collapse of the sensibilities, that seem to dry up the 
 fountain of his tears, and for a season petrify the 
 mourner in a strange and calm indifference to every 
 thing, even to the sources of his own sorrow. The 
 same is equally true of all that anxiety and anguish 
 of the awakened sinner which fail of bringing him to 
 Christ, for healing and peace. His moral suscepti- 
 bilities have been stimulated and wrought upon in- 
 tensely, by the motives which God has pressed upon 
 him, during the season of his seriousness. Think, 
 for a moment, my hearers, what an agitating excite- 
 ment must be produced, by the motives which the 
 Holy Spirit brings to bear on the sensibilities of an 
 awakened soul. His ruin as a lost sinner — his hei- 
 nous guilt, in the sight of a holy God — the awful 
 perils of his present impenitent condition — God's 
 wrath now abiding upon him, frowns, darkness, and 
 curses hanging over his pathway here, and the woes 
 of an eternal hell, in prospect hereafter, all plying 
 his passion of fear! Then, on the other hand, all the 
 everlasting love of God in the gift of his Son, the life 
 of sorrow and the dying compassion of Jesus — all 
 the wonders, and all the glories of the cross, bearing 
 upon the sinner's sense of gratitude, and of infinite 
 obligation. Pardon, and peace, and joy in believing 
 now — divine protection, smiles, sunshine and show- 
 ers of spiritual blessings on his way here, and eter- 
 nal triumphs and seraphic ecstasies ineffable hereaf- 
 ter in heaven, bearing directly on the passion of 
 
70 SERMON III. 
 
 hope, and all these motives presented in the illumina- 
 tion, and by the unseen, but Almighty influences of 
 the Holy Ghost! What must be the effect of a 
 stimulus, so incalculably powerful as this, on the 
 susceptibilities of the soul ? Why, that soul Tnxist 
 either sweetly yield to the influence, and experience 
 a change, that will ever afterwards hold it subject to 
 be thus swaj-ed, or it tnust resist this awful aggre- 
 gate of motive, and experience in consequence a 
 prostration, an exhaustion, a swooning and spiritual 
 lethargy that will paralyze all its powers in a seared 
 and senseless inactivity. This truth receives confir- 
 mation from the analogy furnished in the use of na- 
 tural stimuli. The more potent such stimulus, the 
 deeper and more dreadful is the physical depression 
 that ensues. Of this fact delirium tremens is an 
 awful illustration ! But the sinner who has been thus 
 stimulated by the motives of God's truth, and had all 
 his powers roused and held for a season in intense 
 excitement, and who then casts off his seriousness, 
 has something more than the stupifying languor that 
 succeeds mere stimulation; he has the hardening 
 influence exerted by the positive and powerful re- 
 sistance which he has made to these motives, and 
 to the strivings of the Holy Spirit. These two 
 causes, combined and operating in their full force un- 
 checked, will at last present the sinner as a spectacle 
 of profound insensibility to the eternal life of the 
 soul, appalling to the universe. The poet's couplet, 
 originally applied to the atheist, but faintly describes 
 the spiritual condition of such a one: 
 
 "In him, all nature's sympathies are still, 
 His bosom owns no throb, his heart no thrill." \ 
 
SERMON III. 71 
 
 '' Twice dead and plucked up by the roots," is he 
 not in a condition sadly portentous of becoming fuel 
 for the fire that is never quenched? 
 
 V. It is obvious to remark, in this connexion, that 
 when this course ends as now described, in a total 
 loss of all thoughtfulness and in so profound insensi- 
 bility on the entire subject of religion, it leaves the 
 soul in a state from ivhich all prospect of its re- 
 covery is extremely dark and doubtful. It is pro- 
 per here to recall your attention to the sad and omin- 
 ous fact in this melancholy narrative, that after this 
 young man had refused the conditions of eternal life, 
 and "went away sorrowful," neither sacred nor pro- 
 fane annals utter a syllable in reference to his sub- 
 sequent religious state ! Our text constitutes the 
 closing sentence of his moral history on earth. We 
 have no record informing us, that this amiable youth 
 was one of the thousands converted on the day of 
 Pentecost, or that he was a member of the first Chris- 
 tian church at Jerusalem, or a follower of Paul, or 
 of any other apostle. To the ear of the soul, the 
 very silence of God's oracles respecting him, has an 
 articulate, piercing utterance more powerful than 
 words, telling the guilty hopelessness of his condi- 
 tion ! After the period to which our text refers, he 
 probably never raised a serious inquiry on the sub- 
 ject of his salvation, never again felt any deep or 
 special concern about eternal life. It is an affecting 
 fact, amply attested by the observation of all pastors 
 who have been long in the field of labour, that those 
 who have been once deeply convicted of sin, and 
 have gone through the ordinary steps of anxiety, 
 agitation, weeping, praying and serious inquiry re- 
 
72 SERMON III. 
 
 specting salvation, and then have turned back and 
 sunk again into the deep sleep and security in sin, 
 which follow, are the last, and rarest cases of conver- 
 sion that ever occur under the ministrations of the 
 gospel! Two reasons present themselves here, to 
 prove the condition of such to be wofully dark and 
 hopeless. First, all that is new, and striking in the 
 influences of the Holy Spirit, and in the motives from 
 God's word which once awakened and startled them, 
 has now become familiar, and, as it were, worn out 
 upon them. All the means of grace are robbed of 
 that exciting novelty which they had, when for the 
 first they were accompanied with a divine light, and 
 energy in awakening the soul. All that was strange 
 and new, and urgently noticeable in the very feeling 
 itself of being awakened is now gone. On the great 
 theme of eternal life, all their sensibilities have al- 
 ready been once thoroughly exhausted. The whole 
 soul has been burnt over, scathed and blackened by 
 the lightnings of the divine law, and the fire, and 
 the hammer of God's Spirit and word, having failed 
 to melt or to break the heart of stone, have spent 
 their combined action on it only to result in an in- 
 creased hardness rivalling that of the adamant itself! 
 The power of resistance also, which such persons 
 exercise, and which has been necessary to enable 
 them after all their anxieties to turn away from the 
 Son of God, is greatly augmented and fortified. O! 
 how hopeless is their condition! The second rea- 
 son why they are never likely to be rescued from 
 this perilous state, is that they have an unconquera- 
 ble dislike, and even a kind of horror at the thought 
 of being RE-awakened. The remembrance of their 
 
SERMON iir. 73 
 
 former seriousness comes over them, like a dark and 
 troubled dream, which they instinctively wish may 
 never be rcj)eated. They suppose too that they have 
 gone as far and done as much to secure eternal life 
 as they can, and that if they are ever saved, it will 
 have to be by some mystic, charm-like influence 
 which shall overpower them, and do tlie work in an 
 instant without requiring of them any special con- 
 cern or application of mind in the matter. Hence 
 they greatly dread the prospect of being convicted 
 of sin and really awakened again, of going through 
 tedious days or weeks of fruitless anxiety, weeping 
 and prayer as they have heretofore done. The mere 
 thought that they should again have the awful dis- 
 closure of their guilt and ruin, the agitating fears 
 and forebodings of God's wrath, and should feel the 
 strivings of his Spirit, and the urgency of all the 
 motives to repent and submit to Christ as they once 
 did, fills them with revolting and horror. And as 
 they have resolved for the present to cling to the 
 world and live on impenitent, they therefore make 
 a decided and active resistance to all efforts and 
 means used for their awakening and conversion. 
 This, together with the awful probability that the 
 Holy Spirit has abandoned, or will soon abandon 
 them judicially, renders their recovery and salvation, 
 to human view, amongst the most doubtful and im- 
 probable of future events. The compassionate Son 
 of God, pitying angels in heaven, and weeping saints 
 on earth, may yearn over them and pour upon them 
 the tide of their sympathies and the melting strains 
 of their expostulation and entreaty; but they feel not, 
 they hear not, they heed not all the combining influ- 
 
 7 
 
74 SERMON III. 
 
 ences of heaven and earth for their salvation ! They 
 have gone away from Christ " sorrowful" in the 
 commencement, and their gloomy and only prospect 
 now is, to wander on in eternal banishment from his 
 presence, and the glory of his power ! 
 
 Lastly. This course which we have been de- 
 scribing, when persisted in, renders the sinner lia- 
 ble to a more keen and cutting remorse through 
 time and in eternity, than a career of ordinary 
 impenitence. 
 
 My impenitent hearers of this class, however 
 reckless and hardened you may become, you can 
 never wholly forget that you have once been awa- 
 kened by the Spirit of God to deep seriousness and 
 agitating solicitude respecting the eternal life of 
 your souls. All your subsequent unconcern and 
 immoveable stupidity, can never annihilate from the 
 records of memory, the solemn fact that the Holy 
 Ghost has striven with you, and that you have had 
 a season of aching anxiety about your salvation. 
 That fact, once registered on the tablet of the soul, 
 will remain there through the immortality of your 
 being! And it is that fact which lays the founda- 
 tion for a bitter regret and consuming remorse, 
 which can only be felt by the once awakened sin- 
 ner. During certain periods of your present life, I 
 am aware, you may manage to give over this ungra- 
 cious fact to a partial and temporary oblivion. In 
 the days of your prosperity you will not be trou- 
 bled with the sad remembrance of your former ship- 
 wrecked seriousness. But, what security have you 
 that in those inevitable seasons of adversity which are 
 the common lot of mortals, you will not have visi- 
 
SERMON III. 75 
 
 tations from the past, presenting obliterated leaves of 
 memory, legible again, that will harrow your very 
 soul? When death desolates your home and dashes 
 from your lips the hitherto sparkling and over- 
 flowing bowl of domestic joy, and wrings your heart 
 with a lonely anguish, which turns in vain to any 
 earthly source for healing ; when you feel that God's 
 frown is upon you, and that you are shut out from 
 his sympathies and solace, memory will then awake 
 and bring vividly before you that past precious sea- 
 son of your seriousness, when God wooed you to 
 his bosom as your asylum from all the woes of your 
 mortal and immortal being: and the remembrance 
 of the slight you then offered to his grace, and the 
 deliberate manner in which you spurned his mercy, 
 will pierce you with an indescribable regret and" re- 
 morse! So when your own brief life shall close, 
 and you lie down to die, and you feel that you must 
 then be for ever torn from that world which you 
 preferred and clung to, instead of to Christ and to 
 eternal life — when earth is receding and fading from 
 your view, and eternity just opening the vision of 
 its realities upon j^our soul, ! how will the re- 
 collection of that favoured period, when God pleaded 
 with you, and you were almost persuaded to pre- 
 pare for these solemnities, come over your heart 
 with a train of regrets and remorse, cold and cut- 
 ting as the edge of that knife which is then sever- 
 ing the ties between soul and body ! The thorn in 
 your dying pillow will wind deeper, and pierce 
 with a keener smart than that in the pillow of him 
 who has never been awakened. And, after the en- 
 hanced pangs of your dissolution are over, and you 
 
76 SERMON III. 
 
 have stood before the tribunal of your God, and re- 
 ceived the sentence of your final doom, as you go 
 away in heavy wo, from the glories and the bliss of 
 a lost heaven, you will remember that here on earth 
 you once had a "day of merciful visitation;'^ when 
 God by his powerful word and Almighty Spirit, by 
 his ministering servants, by the solemnities of the 
 Sabbath and the sanctuary, by the prayers and tears 
 of his people, by the sympathies of the awakened, 
 and the songs of the converted around you, entreat- 
 ed, and conjured you, to secure for yourself the joys 
 of this bright world! You then "felt the powers 
 of the world to come;" your heart was tender, you 
 wept and prayed, and at one time, were, perhaps, 
 on the very point of yielding yourself unreservedly 
 to the Saviour, were within a single step of the fa- 
 vour of God, and a title to this heaven; but you 
 "went away," and lost for ever the infinite blessings 
 then within your reach! 0! the regret, the deep 
 and everlasting remorse, that will corrode and canker 
 the soul, as memory haunts you with the spectres 
 of the murdered hours of your period of seriousness 
 and anxiety about salvation. "This your way is 
 your folly;" it is a gloomy and troubled way, be- 
 yond that of ordinary impenitence. It will mingle 
 an element of wo in your eternal doom, that will 
 not be found in the perdition of those who have 
 never enjoyed and despised a season of awakening 
 and concern respecting the future life of the soul! 
 Remorse, remorse, for having grieved the Spirit of 
 God, stifled your own convictions, contemned the 
 mercies of your own seriousness, and spurned the 
 joys of heaven pressed on your acceptance, will con- 
 
SERMON III. 77 
 
 stitute that undying scorpion of hell, wliose insuf- 
 ferable stings will inflict on you the giant pang, and 
 extort from you the great sweat of damnation's 
 agony! 
 
 In view of this subject, permit me, in the first 
 place, to plead with you, my young friends, who 
 are still capable of feeling tenderly respecting your 
 salvation, not to trifle with your religious sensi- 
 bilities, and harden your hearts against God. If 
 you remain impenitent till you are more advanced 
 in life, and conscience then becomes roused, to make 
 you see your danger and your duty, you will look 
 back with unspeakable melancholy, to the present 
 time, and wish in vain then, that you possessed the 
 capability of tender and keen emotion, which you 
 now do. Prize and improve this spring-time of 
 your youthful hearts — this period of easily excited 
 sensibility. What a blessed facility it gives you for 
 securing eternal life! If you could be with pastors 
 when they converse with the middle-aged and the 
 old, and urge them to be reconciled to God, and 
 could you hear them sigh and lament over the loss 
 of "the dew of their youth," their tender and easily 
 awakened feelings at that period; could you see, as 
 we sometimes do, the awful consequences of wasting 
 the generous and acute sensibilities of the young 
 heart in sin ; ! did you know what a dire and hope- 
 less hardness and stupidity sear the souls of those 
 who have long resisted the influences of the means 
 of grace, you would not dare take one step in so 
 perilous a career! You can now feel on tlic great 
 subject of your salvation. You can be melted into 
 tears at the love and sorrows of Calvary. The fa- 
 
78 SERMON III. 
 
 vour of God and the hope of heaven, still exert a 
 subduing influence on your hearts, and stir you to 
 serious thought, and some effort to secure the inte- 
 rests of your souls. But if you go away, refusing 
 offered mercy, rejecting Christ, grieving the Holy 
 Spirit, stifling your convictions, and banishing seri- 
 ous thought and emotion, you too will sink down 
 into the "waveless calm, the slumber of the dead,^^ 
 and wake no more till "trumpets call you" to your 
 eternal doom! 
 
 Finally. A word to those of you whose me- 
 lancholy course and condition have now been de- 
 scribed, and I shall have finished my appeal on this 
 occasion. 
 
 You have had your seasons of deep solicitude re- 
 specting your eternal well-being, and you have been 
 led earnestly to inquire, what you must do to be 
 saved. But, you have gone away from the Sa- 
 viour, abandoned gradually all seriousness on the 
 subject, and have had a long interval of unconcern 
 and reckless stupidity. This being your state, per- 
 mit me to ask you a question or two, which I de- 
 voutly pray the Spirit of God may carry with point 
 to your consciences and hearts. Has that blessed 
 aggrieved Spirit returned to your deserted souls 
 lately, and awakened in you again some tender, so- 
 lemn feeling? Have you been JYiduced to think se- 
 riously about your salvation? Have you recently 
 been urged to make some efforts, secretly, if not 
 openly, to secure eternal life? ! is there to-day 
 a lingering emotion of tenderness and solemnity, a 
 silent aching of your hearts, in view of the sad 
 trutlis presented in this discourse? My dear hear- 
 
SERMON III. 79 
 
 ers, this is the Spirit's returning ^^ rising beam," 
 after the long night of your insensibility. ! hail 
 it! 0! fan the spark by the breath of incessant, 
 fervent prayer ! Let the goodness of God, in again 
 giving you one moment of serious thought and 
 tender feeling on this subject, melt you into contri- 
 tion at his feet. It is a wonderful display of " the 
 riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long- 
 suffering," that God should permit his insulted Spi- 
 rit still to hover nigh, and spread the wing of his 
 gracious influences over you. 
 
 Sinner, once awakened sinner, this may be your 
 last call! God, not willing that you should perish, 
 has sent the Holy Dove to urge you this once more 
 to make your peace with heaven. This is the rea- 
 son why " thy hard and impenitent heart" has this 
 momentary feeling of tenderness and concern about 
 salvation. Trifle but this once more — grieve that 
 Spirit away for this time only, and God may de- 
 part from you for ever, give you up to an incurable 
 hardness of heart, and seal you the changeless victim 
 of your own folly, till "the day of judgment, and 
 perdition of ungodly men !" 
 
80 SERMON IV. 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 " In the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye 
 shine as lights in the world." — Phil. ii. 15. 
 
 One of the most striking characteristics of Paul's 
 epistolary writings, is his anxiety and zeal to pro- 
 mote the personal holiness of Christians. The in- 
 genuity and urgency with which he brings every 
 variety of motive adapted to advance their spiritu- 
 ality, and elevate the standard of piety amongst the 
 early disciples, is no doubtful proof, that he saw the 
 relations and importance of personal holiness in a 
 light in which they are not ordinarily viewed. The 
 Apostle was a true Christian philosopher. He had 
 studied God's plan of redeeming our world, with 
 the care and profound interest which its intrinsic 
 importance deserved. He had contemplated the 
 character of the world that was to be redeemed, the 
 kind of agency or instrumentality adapted to secure 
 its redemption, the design of God in organizing and 
 perpetuating a Church on earth, and the grand end 
 to be subserved, by detaining the followers of Christ 
 in this state of probation, instead of taking them at 
 once to a state of glory. In this investigation, the 
 discriminating mind of Paul clearly discovered, that 
 the influence of the vital piety of Christians stood 
 inseparably connected with the best interests of the 
 human race for two worlds. 
 
SERMON IV. 81 
 
 This he knew to he the main instrumentality or- 
 dained of God for the redemption of men. And, 
 accordingly, we find that in all his epistles, this sub- 
 ject, the personal holiness of Christians, is promi- 
 nent. In all the doctrines, precepts, and exhorta- 
 tions, which he presents, his ultimate aim is the at- 
 tainment of this great end. In his letter to the 
 Christians at Philippi, he exhorts them to work out 
 their own salvation with fear and trembling, and 
 encourages them to do this, by the gracious assu- 
 rance that it is God that works, and will work in 
 them, both to will and to do of his good pleasure. 
 But, lest they should think that their duty began 
 and ended with themselves exclusively, he goes on 
 to say — "Do all things without murmurings and 
 disputings, that ye may be blameless and harmless, 
 the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a 
 crooked and perverse nation,^mong whom ye shine 
 as lights in the world. ^^ 
 
 I shall take occasion from these words, 
 
 I. To notice the kind of luorld in which Chris- 
 tians live — "a crooked and perverse nation." 
 
 II. The kind of influence which Christians are 
 to exert upon the world — "among whom ye shine 
 as lights in the world;" and 
 
 III. Their obligations to exert this influence. 
 According to this plan, your attention is, 
 
 I. Directed to the kind ofwoYld in which Chris- 
 tians live, — "A crooked and perverse nation." — 
 These two terms, "crooked and perverse," have 
 reference both to the opinions and practice of the 
 world; and the least that they can mean in this 
 connexion, is, that the world is erroneous in its 
 opinions, and wrong in its practice. 
 
83 SERMON IV. 
 
 That both these allegations are true, human his- 
 tory amply attests. I refer, of course, to the reli- 
 gious opinions and practice of the world. It is a 
 crooked world, then, in respect to the opinions 
 which it entertains of the ever blessed God. The 
 majority of the world rarely think of God at all ; 
 and when they do bestow a passing thought upon 
 him, it is only to take some distorted view of his 
 character. The opinions of the world respecting 
 God, are divided into three great classes: 
 
 I. Some men can see nothing in God but the at- 
 tributes of an almighty and gloomy tyrant. — 
 They regard him as a being that has set himself in 
 opposition to their happiness, arbitrarily imposing 
 restraints on them, and through a capricious ma- 
 levolence, denouncing infinite woes as the conse- 
 quence of their sins. The riches of his goodness, 
 and forbearance, and l^g-sufTering, they cannot see, 
 though they themselves are participants, to a large 
 extent, in these blessings. They never contemplate 
 God, as affixing the penalty to his law, and punish- 
 ing the finally incorrigible rebel, through that infi- 
 nite benevolence that seeks to prevent sin, and pro- 
 mote the holiness and happiness of the universe. 
 And, because the gospel makes the requirements of 
 faith, and repentance, and a holy life, and threatens 
 a sorer punishment to those who wilfully reject its 
 precious provisions; they never see the glories of 
 divine mercy, in which God there exhibits himself. 
 Their entire opinion of God, is, that he is "a hard 
 master, reaping where he has not sown, and gather- 
 ing where he has not strewed." This is an exten- 
 sively prevalent opinion in the world, alike de- 
 
SERMON IV. 83 
 
 grading to the infinite majesty of Jehovah, and inju- 
 rious to the souls of men. 
 
 II. But there is a second class of men, who en- 
 tertain opinions of God equally erroneous, though 
 they are precisely the opposite extreme of those 
 just noticed. This class think him " to be alto- 
 gether such a one as themselves." They regard 
 God as taking but little concern in the affairs of this 
 world. They view him as a very great and good 
 being — too great and too good to busy himself with 
 the petty interests of men, or to be strict to mark 
 their iniquities in this world. They suppose that 
 God has very much the same estimate of things 
 which they have ; that he views their character and 
 conduct very much as they do themselves; that he 
 is too merciful ever to permit his creatures to be 
 lost and miserable, let them do what they may. — 
 Such are the latitudinous views which they have of 
 the whole character of God, that they indulge the 
 vague hope, that irrespective of their moral charac- 
 ter, their taste, their habits, and the entire tenor of 
 
 . a sinful life, he will make them all alike happy in a 
 future state. They have no belief in the attribute 
 of his retributive justice. They are a "crooked" 
 class. Their views are so wholly distorted, that 
 they see nothing in the character of God but a blind, 
 indiscriminate, unmingled pity, that will arbitrarily 
 bless all rational creatures with everlasting happi- 
 ness, whatever their character and moral conduct 
 may be. 
 
 III. There is a third class, who think of God as 
 a kind of jjersonificaiioii of universal nature. 
 The evidences of his physical omnipotence, which 
 
84 SERMON IV. 
 
 they see in the wonders of creation, in all that is 
 sublime in the scenery of earth and ocean by day, 
 and the starry heavens by night; these, in their opi- 
 nion, constitute God — all the God in which they 
 believe. Their notions of God are confined exclu- 
 sively to one natural attribute — his omnipotence. 
 They exclude all his moral perfections, and even 
 their opinion of Omnipotence differs not materially 
 from the old pagan philosophy, respecting a blind 
 First Cause, acting with irresistible power, in pro- 
 ducing all the changes that pass upon matter. Hence, 
 they use the term nature to designate all that they 
 mean by God. It is a vague notion of some kind 
 of blind power, that acts irresistibly, and at random, 
 in the great chain of physical cause and effect. That 
 God is a righteous moral governor, holy, just, wise, 
 rewarding and punishing his subjects according to 
 their character and deeds, that he is faithful and 
 true, that he is the author of a glorious plan of re- 
 demption, in which he exercises infinite mercy to 
 the guilty and the lost, through the atonement of 
 Christ, these things never enter into their concep- 
 tions of God ! 
 
 How true it is, that "the world by wisdom knew 
 not God," but "became vain in their imagina- 
 tions, and their foolish heart was darkened. * And 
 even as they did not like to retain God in their 
 knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate 
 mind." In respect to its opinions about God, this 
 is the kind of world in which Christians live — a 
 crooked world, where the most distorted and erro- 
 neous views of the character of the blessed God 
 prevail. But 
 
SERMON IV. 85 
 
 2. It is a world as perverse, in practice, as it is 
 crooked or erroneous in opinion. This is but the 
 legitimate consequence of distorted views of the Di- 
 vine character. Wrong opinions on any practical 
 subject, necessarily lead to wrong practice. The 
 perverseness of the w^orld is modified by the three 
 classes of erroneous opinions respecting God, which 
 constitute its crookedness. Those who regard God 
 onlyas an almighty, arbitrary tyrant, who has set him- 
 self in capricious array against their happiness, will, 
 of course, manifest an open hostility to Him. Their 
 enmity is stirred b}^ every thing associated with 
 God. They regard him as their enemy, and they 
 treat him as such. They practise an unblushing 
 and determinate rebellion ! They openly resist his 
 authority, reject all his claims, violate his laws, and 
 attempt to vindicate their conduct in doing so, by 
 the plea, that all the restraints which God imposes 
 on them, are wanton abridgments of their happiness, 
 and evidences that God inclines to make them mise- 
 rable, for the mere sake of their suffering. This 
 class of practice, wrong, perverse practice, includes 
 all the neglecters of church and divine ordinances 
 — those who violate the Sabbath — who refuse to 
 read their Bibles — reject the gospel in wrath, and set 
 themselves in open and avowed opposition to all re- 
 ligion. Again. Those whose crooked, distorted 
 opinions of God lead them to regard him as a being 
 of but one attribute, and that a blind, indiscriminate 
 mercy, which will save all, let them live as they 
 may^ pursue a practice different from that just no- 
 ticed, though equally perverse and wrong. They 
 turn the grace of God into licentiousness. Tliey 
 S 
 
86 • SERMON IV. 
 
 practically reject the gospel, because they have such 
 views of the mercy of God, that the provisions of 
 the gospel are to them unnecessary . They feel no 
 concern to have the moral character to which the 
 gospel is designed to form man, nor to pursue the 
 course of conduct it prescribes, nor to comply with 
 the conditions of salvation which it reveals, nor to 
 exemplify the pure and lofty spirit it inspires. They 
 give up the reins to passion and appetite, not through 
 an avowed and open resistance to the claims of God 
 upon them to be holy, but because God is so good 
 that he will not punish them for their sins. Thus 
 they violate his law, reject the gospel, and indulge 
 without restraint in sin, professing all the while to 
 honour God's benevolence and mercy, so much as 
 to believe that he will take care of their happiness 
 hereafter, whatever may be their character and prac- 
 tice here. This class of perverse practice, includes 
 all those who support and maintain latitudinarian 
 schemes of religion, or, who have a liberality of 
 sentiment that makes it a matter of comparative in- 
 difference where they attend the administration of 
 the gospel, or whether they attend it and main- 
 tain any outward forms of religion at all. They 
 live at ease, " serve divers lusts and pleasures," 
 profess great regard for God in words, and in works 
 deny him; their hearts and lives as uninfluenced 
 by the quickening, transforming, and purifying spi- 
 rit of the gospel, as though they were arrayed in 
 the most open and virulent unbelief, and hostility 
 to God and his holy word. 
 
 The last class of perverse practice of the world, 
 results from those crooked views of God, which 
 
SERMON IV. 87 
 
 make lilm nothing more than a blind physical cause 
 of the wonders of creation. Sticli views lead to 
 practlcdl atheism. There arc those under the gos- 
 pel wiiose practice shows that they have no clear 
 belief of the existence of God. They live a pure- 
 ly animal life, follow their instincts and their ap- 
 petites, seldom, or never think of an hereafter: 
 God is not in all their thoughts; they seem to have 
 no sense of moral obligation, pay no regard to the 
 word, worship, and ordinances of God, evince no 
 religious sensibility on any occasion, and are lite- 
 rally in practice ^^ without God hi the world T^ 
 They have no states of mind, no emotions, and they 
 put forth no actions, that are influenced by a serious 
 and practical belief of the being of a God ! To sup- 
 ply their physical wants, and to attain mere physi- 
 cal enjoyment, is the supreme aim, the great go- 
 verning purpose of their lives! Their whole prac- 
 tice is regulated exclusively with reference to these. 
 Besides these, there is a class whose speculative 
 opinions respecting God are correct. They admit 
 the truth of the Bible in the representations which 
 it makes of the Divine character; they admit the 
 claims of God in the gospel; the necessity of com- 
 plying witli its terms of salvation ; they assent to 
 the whole theory of revealed religion, and yet their 
 practice is as perverse as though they entertained 
 no such views, and made no such admission. They 
 disregard the Divine law — reject the oflers of mercy 
 — continue impenitent and unbelieving — live in sin, 
 and put far oft' the evil day. This class of ])ervcrse 
 practice, includes all those who pay an external at- 
 tention to religion, contribute to its support, and 
 
S8 SERMON IV. 
 
 cbiiform to its outward observances, but yield not 
 their hearts to its inward and controlling spirit — a 
 strangely perverse practice, more criminal, in some 
 respects, than any of the other classes noticed. Such 
 is the kind of world in which Christians live. A 
 world pervaded with distorted views of God, and 
 the very foundations of its moral practice out of 
 course; a world greatly erroneous in opinion, and 
 intensely sinful in practice. Is there no hope of 
 some kindly influence that can be brought to bear 
 on it, to correct its errors and reform its practice? 
 Yes ; and this leads me, 
 
 II. To notice, in the second place, the kind of 
 influence which Christians are to exert upon it. 
 "Amongst whom ye shine as lights in the world." 
 There is an allusion here, to the heavenly bodies 
 that supply our globe with light; Christians, in a 
 moral or spiritual sense, are to be to the rest of 
 mankind, what the sun, moon, and stars are, in a 
 natural sense, to our world — the great and ruling 
 lights of the system. 
 
 1. I remark then, in the first place, that as the 
 light of the heavenly bodies is clear and undubious, 
 so the influence of Christians on the world ought to 
 be a decided and unequivocal Christian influence. 
 No one can be in doubt whether the sun is shining 
 during the hours of the day. His beams carry with 
 them an irresistible evidence. No one can make it 
 a serious question, whether or not the moon is tra- 
 velling in her serene splendour through the nightly 
 sky. Her own soft radiance cannot be mistaken. 
 Nor can it, for a moment, be doubtful whether or 
 not the cloudless vault of heaven by night, is stud- 
 
•SERMON IV. Sf) 
 
 dec! with innumerable stars, blending their beams 
 through li^Lindless space, and sending their far off 
 light to our world. The light of all these celestial 
 bodies is clear and undubious. It cannot be coun- 
 terfeited or mistaken. Clouds may intervene be- 
 tween those bodies and our world, and obscure the 
 brightness of their rays, but no one doubts that what 
 light we still enjoy, is derived from them, and that 
 they, in themselves, are bright and serene as ever. 
 Now, the requirement of our text is, that Christians 
 should shine as these lights in the world. The in- 
 fluence which they are to exert upon it, is to be a 
 decided, unequivocal Christian injluence. Their 
 opinions respecting the attributes of God — the na- 
 ture of his government — the character, condition, 
 and prospects of man under that government — their 
 views of the great doctrines of religion — their know- 
 ledge of all the truths of revelation must be compre- 
 hensive, clear, correct, and scriptural — decidedly 
 the opinions, views, and knowledge of Christians, 
 who are taught of God, who receive the things of 
 the Spirit, and discern spiritual things. It must not 
 be doubtful wdiether or not they are walking in the 
 truth, any more than it is doubtful whether or not 
 the sun is shining at noon. Their enlarged, en- 
 lightened, consistent, scriptural views of God's truth, 
 are the only remedial influence that can be brought 
 to bear on the crooked and overgrown errors of 
 the world. They are, in this respect, the light of 
 the world, and they are to shine just as the hea- 
 venly bodies do. Ignorance, doubt, and uncertainty, 
 must not cloud their minds. The liglit which they 
 send forth must not be like Ihnt which forms the 
 8* 
 
90 SERMON IV. 
 
 lunar bow on the mists of night. Sent forth from a 
 mind "rooted and grounded'^ in the .faith, and 
 growing in knowledge, it must be clear, unequivo- 
 cal, resplendent as the sun's meridian ray. It must 
 contrast vividly with the darkness of the world, 
 and be easily distinguishable from all those false 
 lights that result from sparks of the sinner's own 
 kindling. The practice, equally with the opinions 
 of Christians, ought to be a decided, unequivocal 
 Christian practice. No actions of the Christian's 
 life should appear doubtful. There is nothing 
 doubtful in the course of the heavenly bodies, as 
 they shine upon the world. They obey strictly 
 those physical laws by which their revolutions are 
 to be governed. There are no uncertain, equivocal 
 movements of those celestial orbs. Their paths 
 through the immeiisity of space, can be calculated 
 with minutest accurac3^ These orbs our text pre- 
 sents as the models of the Christian's practice. His 
 whole conduct is to be decidedly Christian. An 
 open, straight-forward, well-defined course, must be 
 his, like the pathway which the sun marks in the 
 heavens. Not only in the direct services of religion, 
 in social and public worship, must his practice be a 
 scriptural, spiritual practice, known and felt to be 
 such, but in all the relations of life, and in all its or- 
 dinary pursuits, the same clear, decided, unequivo- 
 cal practice, must appear. As a father, a husband, 
 a friend, and a member of society, his whole con- 
 duct must be that of a decided Christian father, a 
 decided Christian husband, a decided Christian 
 friend and member of society. Whether he eats or 
 drinks, or whatever he does, it must be as apparent. 
 
SERMON IV. 91 
 
 as the sunbeams at noon, that he is doing all to the 
 glory of God. There must be no ambiguity about 
 his actions. They must all be manifestly right, dic- 
 tated by Christian motives, done in the spirit of 
 sincere and universal obedience, and conformed to 
 the requirements of God's holy law. In respect to 
 the main actions of his life, there must be no more 
 doubt as to their decided Christian character, than 
 we doubt whether the sun is risen, and is pouring 
 his full-orbed splendours on our world. Such, in 
 part, is the kind of influence which Christians are 
 to exert on the world, a decided, unequivocal 
 Christian influence, as contradistinguished from 
 all counterfeit and doubtful influences which are 
 brought to bear on man. And this is the only 
 redeeming influence, under God, that can ever reach 
 and rectify the perverse practice of the world. — 
 When Christians thus hold forth the word of life in 
 clear, decided, intelligible, straight-forward, Chris- 
 tian actions, there is some hope that the world's 
 obliquity of practice will be remedied, and that 
 seeing their good works, it will be led to glorify 
 their Father in heaven. But 
 
 2. As the heavenly bodies give also a steady, 
 permanent light, so the influence which Christians 
 are to exert on the world, must be a steady^ per- 
 manent influence. The sun does not shine re- 
 splendently one hour, and then veil himself in im- 
 penetrable darkness the next. Nor does the moon 
 shed her silvery light on land and sea, and again ca- 
 priciously withdraw it, leaving night suddenly to 
 resume its dark domain. Nor do tlie stars glitter 
 on the dome of heaven for a moment, onlv to retire 
 
92 SERMON IV. 
 
 and render the gloom that would succeed more pro- 
 found and appalling. All these celestial bodies shine 
 on in their destined spheres and seasons, with steady, 
 permanent, unabated light. Clouds may be rolled 
 between the eye of the spectator and these re- 
 splendent orbs, but high above the mist and storm, 
 they shine on with unquenched ray, serenely calm. 
 It is thus the Christian is' to shine, as these lights in 
 the world. His influence is to be steady and/^er- 
 Tnanent as the beams of suns and stars. In accord- 
 ance with this, God himself declares, that "the path 
 of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more 
 and more unto the perfect day.'^ The influence, 
 then, which Christians are to exert on the world, 
 must not be a fickle, fitful influence. It will not do 
 to burst and blaze on the world for a moment, like 
 a meteor, and then become extinguished, rendering 
 darkness visible. However brilliant may be the 
 meteor, it serves not to light man in the business of 
 the day, nor to guide the mariner on the pathless 
 waters by night. The steady, permanent rays of 
 sun and stars, alone do this. And that periodical 
 religious influence which some professors exert, 
 those coruscations of occasional zeal, that are at- 
 tended with the noise and the sparks of a sky-rocket, 
 and burst and vanish about as soon, have never pro- 
 duced any salutary efiect on the spiritual interests 
 of the world, more than meteors or sky-rockets 
 furnish the permanent light and heat that promote 
 vegetation in the kingdom of nature. All the great 
 results in the physical world, are eflfected by steady, 
 permanent influences. The sun shines steadil}', 
 day by day, for months, to mature the fruits of the 
 
SERMON IV. 93 
 
 earth; the dews fall nightly through the same period, 
 and the rain cometh oft npon it. The genial warmth 
 pervades it, lingering day and night through the 
 appointed season. These are the influences on 
 which the world depends for physical blessings, si- 
 lent, steady, permanent influences. The work of 
 uprooting, desolation, and destruction, can be ef- 
 fected by fitful and momentary agencies. The tor- 
 nado, the earthquake, and the volcano, hurry their 
 havoc and ruin within the limits of a short period, 
 and require but a momentary paroxysm of power to 
 efiect their disastrous results. Not so with those 
 physical influences that bless the world. They are 
 steady, permanent, all-pervading influences. And 
 so must be the moral influence which Christians 
 exert upon the world. The eflfects to be produced 
 by their influence are not periodical. The instru- 
 mentality that is to enlighten, convict, convert, re- 
 claim, and sanctify a world now lying in wicked- 
 ness, must be a steady, permanent instrumentality. 
 Christians will have to exemplify what is meant by 
 "ALWAYS aboiindijig in the work of the Lord." — 
 The ignorance, errors, prejudices, opposition, and 
 enmity of the world to Christ and his gospel, are 
 not to be overcome by a fitful and transient influ- 
 ence. The world is to be divested of these very 
 much as the individual in the fable is represented as 
 being compelled to lay aside his cloak. The mo- 
 mentary, though furious blast of wind, first attempt- 
 ed, in an instant of its power, to deprive him of the 
 mantle, but he only folded it around him more 
 tightly, till the blast had spent its short-lived force. 
 Yet when the sun poured upon him its steady, pe- 
 
94 SERMON IV. 
 
 netr3Lt]ng,per?7ianent beams, overcome by tbeir co7i- 
 tinuous effect, he was obliged to throw aside the 
 heavy garment. And it is continuous, unabated, 
 persevering Christian influence, that will yet strip 
 the world of its habiliments of rebellion against 
 God. "The peaceable fruits of righteousness" can 
 no more, than those of the earth, be cultivated and 
 matured by irregular and periodical influences. — 
 What aspect would our fields, and orchards, and 
 vineyards present, if the sun should shine but a 
 little while, and withdraw his light and genial 
 warmth for a long interval, and if the dews should 
 fall for a night or two, and then suspend their visits 
 for weeks, and if the rain should follow the same 
 rule, and the bland influences of spring and summer 
 be succeeded by long intervals of the temperature 
 of autumn and winter? could we have a golden har- 
 vest, and the closing summer crowned with fruits? 
 And yet all these intermissions and irregularities 
 which we have supposed in the physical elements, 
 but too fitly represent the kind of influence which 
 some professing Christians exert on the world. Such 
 an influence will never cultivate and mature those 
 fruits of righteousness which are by Jesus Christ, 
 unto the glory and praise of God's rich grace. It 
 must be an influence steady, regular, and permanent 
 as the course and light of those celestial orbs that 
 have shone unceasingly since the morning of the 
 creation ! 
 
 III. As the lights of the world, the heavenly 
 bodies, not only shine with a clear, undubious, 
 steady, 2jermanent light, but with a genial and 
 vital ivarmth, so the influence which Christians 
 
SERMON IV. 95 
 
 arc to exert must carry with it 2i fervent, life-giving 
 spirit. Tiic influence of the sun on vegetable life 
 does not consist merely in its liglU. That liglit is 
 thrown as profusely and brightly over the desola- 
 tions of winter as over the teeming verdure and 
 flowers of spring, or the rich fruits of summer and 
 autumn. All the luminaries of the heavens, as far 
 as mere light is concerned, might shine on, clear, 
 steady, permanent, and bright as ever, and yet, in 
 the absence of that peculiar, mysterious, vital warmth 
 which accompanies their rays at certain seasons, the 
 earth would be one vast scene of wintry desolation. 
 So the Christian's opinions may be clear, correct, 
 enlightened, enlarged and scriptural, and his prac- 
 tice be outwardly blameless, negatively correct, so 
 that no flaw or fault may attach to him, and yet his 
 influence on the world fail to be what our text de- 
 mands. It lacks the vital, glowing warmth of the 
 Ueue Christian spirit! His influence must com- 
 bine the two elements of light and heat in their due 
 proportions. The world will never teem with moral 
 verdure and wave with a rich spiritual harvest under 
 the influence of a clear, accurate, orthodox faith, and 
 a coldly, negatively correct practice by Christians. 
 Such a world as we have described will not burst 
 the bands of its desolate moral winter, and break 
 forth into the spring and summer of its spiritual 
 renovation, under this kind of influence. The great 
 difficulty in the way of the world's conversion does 
 not consist merely in a darkened understanding; and 
 the clearest light, therefore, cannot remove this chf- 
 ficulty. The cold hearts of the world must be 
 melted down into tender, penitential submission to 
 
96 SERMON IV. 
 
 the Saviour. This is a result that light, of itself, 
 can rjever produce. To effect this we must have 
 that peculiar, mysterious, vital warmth that accom- 
 panies a pure, elevated, glowing piety. No false 
 fire can supply its place. It is the warmth diffused 
 through the Christian's soul by daily, holy commu- 
 nion with God beneath the intense beams of his pro- 
 pitious face — the sacred fire that is kindled and kept 
 burning by the habit of constant, importunate, se- 
 cret prayer — the holy flame of supreme love to God, 
 and the constraining love of Christ for souls fed and 
 fanned by the communications of God's Spirit made 
 through a diligent attendance on divine ordinances 
 and the punctual performance of all known duties — 
 this is the genial j vivifying heat that forms the 
 great element of the Christian's influence on the 
 world. Without it the other elements lack the very 
 one which imparts to them all their redeeming effi- 
 cacy. Let this spiritual warmth be diffused steadily, 
 permanently, and pervadingly, like that connected 
 with the beams of the sun, and the icy bands of 
 earth will be dissolved, her long, dreary winter be 
 past, and a spring lovely as that of Eden will visit 
 her, and the wilderness and the solitary places shall 
 be glad, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as 
 the rose! 
 
 Are not Christians solemnly bound to exert such 
 an influence as this upon the world? This intro- 
 duces the third and last general topic of discussion 
 proposed in this discourse, namely, the obligations 
 of Christians to shine as lights in the world. On 
 this subject I must be brief. Did time permit, I 
 might show that Christians are under obligations to 
 
SERMON IV. 97 
 
 exert such an influence on the world, simply from 
 <he fact that it is the obvious will of God, and 
 his direct command, that they should do so. 
 God's will clearly revealed, God's command expli- 
 citly given, creates the strongest ohligations that can 
 bind a rational creature. And this ought to be suf- 
 ficient for Christians, who profess submission and 
 implicit obedience to Jehovali's authority. I might 
 also argue the obligations of Christians to exert this 
 influence on the world from their sense of grati- 
 tude. " Redeemed not with corruptible things, as 
 silver and gold," but with the amazing price of Je- 
 sus' blood — pardoned and accepted of God — filled 
 with the joys of his salvation, adopted into his 
 family, and made the heirs and expectants of an 
 eternal heaven: if there be any thing that Chris- 
 tians can do in return for favours so infinite, so di- 
 vine, gratitude would bind them to do it. TiTey 
 can glorify God in their bodies and spirits, which 
 are his, by exerting this influence on the world. 
 
 I might also argue the obligations of Christians 
 to do this from the appeal ivhich the gigantic mise- 
 ries of an imjjenitent ivorld make to their sympa- 
 thies. The ignorance, error, darkness, and moral 
 death which pervade the world, form an awful ag- 
 gregation of ills! And when you add the prospects 
 of the world for eternity — the multitudes who, in 
 the absence of Christian influence, must speedily be 
 engulfed in the everlasting woes of perdition — and 
 when you think that the only hope of remedy or 
 removal of all these temporal and eternal woes de- 
 pends, under God, on the instrumentality of Chris- 
 tians, the appeal to their sympathies is such as to 
 9 
 
98 SERMON IV. 
 
 make them feel their obligations to be imperative 
 and overwhelming. But I cannot dwell on these 
 particulars, and therefore hasten to notice two con- 
 siderations which show the obligations of Christians 
 to exert such an influence as I have described on the 
 world. 
 
 1. All other influences that have been depended 
 upon to reclaim and bless the world have failed. 
 Those have not been wanting in any age who have 
 attempted to restore the w^orld to virtue and happi- 
 ness. Philosophy early tried its influence; but its 
 profound theories were not suited to the common 
 mind, and were never understood by the great ma- 
 jority of mankind. Its morality lacked divine and 
 eternal sanctions, and therefore never extended its 
 control over the indomitable depravity of the mul- 
 titude. The arts have exerted their power to bless 
 the world; and all that they have been able to do 
 is to promote physical comfort, and furnish the fa- 
 cilities for the accomplishment of the temporary 
 ends of man's present existence. All the arts of 
 the world have never materially benefited its moral 
 condition, though they have sometimes become sub- 
 servient to a more intense play of its depravity. 
 Civilization and refinement have tried their me- 
 liorating blandishments; but these scarcely "make 
 the outside of the cup and platter clean." Rome, 
 when her refinement and civilization were the won- 
 der of the world, was pervaded with atrocious vices 
 that brought upon her a hopeless national overthrow. 
 Education has been relied on as the great means of 
 the world's restoration to happiness; and yet what 
 has it alone ever done for the moral welfare of the 
 
SERMON IV. '9 
 
 liiiman race? All the intellectual lip;lit which it has 
 shed upon the world has had no more tendency to 
 conquer its enmity, and hring it back to its alle- 
 giance and loyalty to God, than the moonlight on 
 the northern snows has to produce vegetation! 
 Rome's palmiest days of literature and science 
 were her darkest period of moral corruption. "The 
 world by wisdom knew not God." Plans of civil 
 government^ human laws, and sy steins of cri7ni- 
 nal jurisjn'tidence have been tried, in their sway, 
 for the benefit of the world; and, separate from re- 
 ligion and moral sentiment, what have they ever 
 effected? The power of all these influences com- 
 bined, had it borne steadily on the world for six 
 thousand years, would never have broken one hard, 
 impenitent heart — never brought it in sweet sub- 
 mission to God — never filled it with the joys of 
 pardoned sin; would never have recovered to life, 
 hope, happiness, and heaven, one immortal spirit of 
 earth's millions. As well might we hope to draw 
 out Leviathan from the deep with a silken thread, 
 or bind the whirlwind with gossamer, as to control 
 the revolt and enmity of the world against God by 
 influences like these. No! Christian brethren, "ye 
 are the light of the world, ye are the salt of the 
 earth." Ye are God's witnesses; and if your light 
 be hid under a bushel, and the salt have lost its 
 savour, darkness and moral putrefaction will reign 
 and rage uncontrolled over the world. Your influ- 
 ence, under God, is the last resort of a dying world. 
 All other influences have utterly failed. Yours is 
 the world's last hope, and God's appointed instru- 
 mentality for its redemption. If you withhold this, 
 
100 SERMON IV. 
 
 a moral darkness more appalling than the fancied 
 darkness of Byron's dream must settle on the world ! 
 Blot out sun, moon, and stars, and could any artifi- 
 cial fires lighted on this globe supply their place? 
 Ye are to shine as these celestial lights in the world ; 
 and if you do not, the moral canopy of earth will 
 remain hung in a rayless gloom, the fit and fearful 
 emblem and prelude of that " blackness of dark- 
 ness" to which its myriads of souls must be con- 
 signed for ever! Would that I could write it on 
 your hearts " as with a pen of iron or the point of 
 a diamond," that yours is the only influence, under 
 God, that will ever redeem and bless this bleeding, 
 dying world. Oh, what infinite responsibility rests 
 upon Christians! How tender, sacred, awful, are 
 their obligations to exert the right kind of influence 
 on this apostate globe! It is heaven's last great ex- 
 pedient — earth's only hope for salvation! 
 
 2. The only other consideration which I shall ad- 
 duce to show the obligations of Christians to exert 
 such an influence on the world is, that this is one 
 prijicipal design of God in detaining them on 
 earth after their conversion. When we contem- 
 plate the principles of a regenerated soul — its dead- 
 ness to the world — its hatred of sin — its love of holi- 
 ness — its desire for communion with God — its taste 
 for the purity, and its hopes and longings for the 
 bliss of heaven, and then look at the whole course 
 of this present evil world, we can see that this is not 
 a congenial place for the Christian. All the ele- 
 ments of the world are unfriendly to him. Every 
 thing seems to be armed with weapons to be wielded 
 against the new spiritual life on which he has en- 
 
SERMON IV. 101 
 
 tereil. Insidious allurements, adroit temptations, and 
 complicated snares are laid thickly on every step of 
 his pathway. Earth and hell lie in ambuscade there, 
 and assault him on his pilgrimage. Now, when we 
 think of the everlasting love of the Father, and the 
 dying love and mediatorial sympathy of the Saviour 
 for his people, we cannot for a moment suppose tliat 
 God would detain them here on earth so long, if his 
 main and only design in their conversion was to take 
 them to heaven. For aught we know, the Holy Spi- 
 rit might complete the sanctification of every soul 
 that is converted as speedily as it did that of the thief 
 on the cross. V^^hy, then, should a benevolent God, 
 and a compassionate, sympathizing Saviour, keep the 
 Christian so long on earth, in contact with the tu- 
 multuating elements of its depravity? Why not 
 wing his spirit at once for its upward and returnless 
 flight from the storm and turmoil of the world? 
 Must not God have the wisest and best reasons — 
 must he not have some grand design in detaining 
 his own beloved people in circumstances like these 
 so long away from the deep repose and unvexed fe- 
 licity of heaven? And what is this great design that 
 influences God to leave his own dear children so 
 long amidst the conflicts and sorrows of this mortal 
 scene? Let the blessed Redeemer answer: — " I have 
 chosen you and ordained you that ye should go and 
 bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain!''^ 
 Yes, this fruit is of more importance to this perish- 
 ing world than the immediate and perfected bliss of 
 heaven is to Christians. God detains them from that 
 bliss that they may bring forth this fruit, and that it 
 
102 SERMON IV. 
 
 may remain. It is the only provision for that tre- 
 mendous spiritual famine under which the world is 
 pining away, and is threatened with eternal death! 
 Could the world be defended from the ravages and 
 ruin of the armies of its spiritual wants ivithout the 
 influence of Christians, then would all the good sol- 
 diers of Jesus Christ be discharged from the war, re- 
 turn to their homes in heaven, unbind the helmet, 
 wipe the sweat from their brow, and hang their 
 shields in the halls of glory ! But such is not the 
 design of God when they enlist under the banner of 
 the cross. They are to endure hardness in the toils 
 of the camp here. God has marshalled them, by his 
 sovereign grace, as the select life-guard of the 
 world; and under their oath to the great Captain of 
 salvation, they are to defend it faithfully from all 
 the hosts that make war on its spiritual interests. 
 Can they, dare they ever desert their post, till their 
 work and their warfare shall have been accomplished ? 
 Will they thwart the very design of God in detain- 
 ing them here after their conversion? This is the 
 main purpose of God in your stay here on earth! 
 Are you not solemnly bound to fulfil it? Are you 
 not under imperious, infinite obligations to fall in 
 with the great end that God has had in view b}^ 
 keeping you in this world, instead of taking you di- 
 rectly to heaven? Oh, acknowledge, feel these ob- 
 ligations. Never dare break one tie by which the 
 purpose of God has connected your influence with 
 the redemption of this apostate globe. Tax all your 
 energies for the fulfilment of his glorious design, and 
 bring upon this lost, bleeding, sinking world that 
 Christian influence by which God yet means to flood 
 
SERMON IV. 103 
 
 earth with light, and eternity with the joys of re- 
 deemed millions. 
 
 JNIy dear hearers, I leave it with your consciences, 
 as I do with my own, to decide how far the influ- 
 ence which we have heen exerting on the world has 
 been of the kind described in this discourse. Where 
 is our light? — in the candlestick or under a bushel? 
 Into what parts of our families, our circles of friends 
 and acquaintances, has the genial, vital warmth of 
 our piety penetrated, and been felt as a means of 
 melting stubborn hearts and bringing them to peni- 
 tential submission? Have our opinions and practice 
 been just what God and conscience required, and a 
 shrewd world judged to be consistent? Have we 
 shone as lights — as the heavenly bodies, with beams 
 clear, steady, bright, permanent, irradiating our whole 
 sphere? Has our Christian influence been such as to 
 meet the dire spiritual wants of the world around us? 
 Has that world been enlightened, transformed, vivi- 
 ficd by it? — and has God smiled and blest us with 
 tiie beams of his countenance on our own souls, for 
 the fidelity and success with which we have per- 
 formed the duty enjoined in the text? These are 
 solemn questions for conscience to decide in Jeho- 
 vali's presence to-day. I hope they will not be un- 
 heeded, nor left for an hour unanswered by either 
 speaker or hearers. 
 
 On the kind of Christian influence now described, 
 more than on any other human instrumentality, de- 
 pends the prevalence of revivals of religion, and the 
 success and progress of the gospel in the world. 
 When Christians universally awake and arise from 
 the dead, and receive light from their communion 
 
104 SERMON IV. 
 
 with Christ, and reflect it warm from " the Sun of 
 Righteousness " on a dyhig world, then shall " the 
 day-spring'' of its deliverance from error and crime 
 visit it, and the "day-star" that heralds the glories 
 of its millennial morning shine with cheering rays 
 on the eyes of expectant nations. 
 
SKUMON V. 105 
 
 SERMON V. 
 
 "Fou THE Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which 
 was lost." — Luke xix. 10. 
 
 The term "lost," when only employed in its 
 literal sense, is one of mournful significancy. The 
 individual, who in a night of clouds, and rayless 
 gloom, has missed his w^ay, and is wandering, lost 
 from his cheerful hearth and familiar home, excites 
 in his hehalf a strong and peculiar sympathy. But 
 the scriptural representation of the sinner's condition 
 in reference to God, as the Father of his spirit, and 
 heaven as his home, makes a more resistless appeal 
 to our benevolent commiseration. Sin has reared 
 dark mountains around, and spread out the canopy of 
 a moonless, starless, moral night, over the immortal 
 spirit, beneath and among which it gropes its way, 
 not knowing whither it goeth. It is man's impe- 
 rishable part that is lost, the interests of his spiritual 
 being that are ruined; his soiilj lost, is wandering 
 away from its happy home in the skies — exiled from 
 the bosom of its Father, an outcast from the endear- 
 ments and the joys of God's great family on earth, 
 and in heaven. We may remark, however, that be- 
 ing lost, does not always imply that the person is 
 iyinocently and involuntarily lost. Usage sanc- 
 tions the application of this term to the conduct and 
 condition of the youth, who has voluntarily and 
 
106 SERMON V. 
 
 wickedly overleaped the boundaries of parental re- 
 straint, and broken away from the tenderness of pa- 
 rental love, and plunged deeply into the dissipations 
 of ungodly companionship. We say he is lost to 
 his family, to society, to every noble and elevated 
 feeling. And he is lost, for he does nothing that 
 indicates that he belongs to, and has his home with 
 that lovely family, from which he is wandering : nor 
 does he share in the virtuous joys of their domestic 
 circle; nor do his parents treat him, nor dare they 
 treat him as a son. He has intervals of broken re- 
 flection himself, when the promptings of the remains 
 of his earlier and better feelings remind him that he 
 is lost. He knows it, and sometimes for a moment 
 seems inclined to relent and return, but goes on his 
 way wandering still. It is in this sense, that God 
 regards and declares an impenitent world as lost. 
 
 That sinners are thus lost, is the doctrine of the 
 text, and may be proved by the following considera- 
 tions: 
 
 I. The pursuits or doings of siniiers evince that 
 they are lost. In all their diversified pursuits, in 
 the play of their ceaseless activity, there is no refe- 
 rence to the service of God. " The wicked, through 
 the pride of his countenance, will not seek after 
 God." There is no serious attention given to the 
 claims of God, no serious inquiry after God, no up- 
 ward aim in any of the sinner's actions tending to 
 heaven, no real aspirations after a knowledge of God, 
 no ardent hopes of a return to the home of the soul, 
 no voluntary effort to cease from wandering. That 
 he sho. Id quit his rebellion, submit to God, repent 
 and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and consecrate 
 
SER.MON V. 107 
 
 himself without reserve, to walk in all the ordi- 
 nances and commandments of God blameless, never 
 really enters his mind. Amidst all the multitude of 
 his thoughts within him, and all the outward plans 
 and pursuits of his life, there is no great governing 
 purpose, to regard God as his righteous sovereign. 
 He follows his own depraved inclinations, and has 
 no higher aim than to gratify his own supreme self- 
 ishness. The law of God, the will of God, the glory 
 of God, and the good of his fellow men, never claim 
 his serious notice, as the great motives which shoukl 
 control his conduct. Were you to judge merely 
 from an analysis of his actions, you would scarcely 
 suspect that he had a soul, or if he had, that it held 
 any serious relations to God, or to the high and aw- 
 ful destinies of immortality. His desires, plans, pur- 
 poses, pursuits, hopes, wishes, and unwearied efforts, 
 are all circumscribed by earth, and confined within 
 the uncertain period of the present life. If, then, earth 
 be the true home and portion of the undying soul, 
 man is not lost, the sinner is at home. But if there 
 be any higher sphere of existence, any God but the 
 God of this world, any blest realm beyond the con- 
 fines of this little globe, attainable and to be sought 
 as man's final rest, and ulterior destination, then all 
 the pursuits of the sinner, the entire direction and 
 application of his activities prove that he is lost, lost 
 to God, to holiness, to hope and to heaven! . 
 
 H. The sinner's own 7'estlcssness and present 
 dissatisfaction premonish him, that he is lost. In 
 the earlier periods of life, when the heart unblighted 
 by disappointment, is full of sanguine hope, and all 
 the great objects of human aspiration lie yet before 
 
lOS SERMON V. 
 
 him, in the exaggerated attractions of eager and con- 
 fident anticipation, the sinner feels comparatively- 
 satisfied with himself, and with his present circum- 
 stances. He has so many castles built in air, that 
 they seem to him as a "city of habitation." The mo- 
 mentary restlessness and dissatisfaction which he 
 may occasionally experience, are at once quieted by 
 the onward boundings of young elastic hope, and the 
 grasp of eager expectation on the future. But as 
 one, and another, and yet another of the great plans 
 of life are accomplished, as object after object of 
 hope and anticipation are realized, or bitter disap- 
 pointment proclaims them beyond his reach for ever, 
 when the tide of life is turned, and he has to dwell in 
 memory on what he has done, and been, rather than 
 in hope of what he yet expects to be, and to do, the 
 case is quite diflferent. Then he has intervals of in- 
 tolerable restlessness, when he is goaded with a vague 
 craving after some unknown good. He realizes 
 then, that the world has held out a promise to the 
 ear, that it has broken to the heart, that it has utterly 
 failed to redeem the great pledge which it gave to 
 his ardent youthful hopes. His expectations have 
 cruelly mocked him. The rest, the finished satis- 
 faction, which he once confidently believed awaited 
 him, when he should have compassed certain ends, 
 he has not attained. He even begins to indulge the 
 unwelcome suspicion that there is an intrinsic emp- 
 tiness in the mere things of earth, rendering it 
 impossible that they should ever fully satisfy the 
 cravings of his nature! He growls dissatisfied with 
 himself, with his attainments, with his present cir- 
 cumstances. Could he accomplish all that his heart 
 
SERMON V. 109 
 
 has ever desired or purposed, yet tlie thoughts of the 
 brevity, the uncertainty of life, and the absohite cer- 
 tainty of death, sooner or later as the destroyer of 
 his great possessions and enjoyments, could not be 
 barred from his mind, by the gates and walls of a 
 palace, nor bribed away by the wealth of the world. 
 After all the accumulations of a most successful 
 career, he begins to feel that h'l^soul has really no 
 substantial, satisfactory, enduring portion. Its de- 
 sires are not filled, the aspirations of its active death- 
 less powers after a position of secure repose, and high 
 enjoyment, are not met and gratified. It has a vague, 
 yet tantalizing conviction, that notwithstanding all 
 it has done, and all it has attained, it is still in exile, 
 without a home and a rest suited to its immortal na- 
 ture. And though this conviction may be banished, 
 and this restlessness occasionally broken up by plung- 
 ing more deeply into the business or guilty pleasures 
 of the world, yet they recur, as returning birds of ill 
 omen, more and more frequently, as his experience 
 of tlie unsatisfying nature of temporal good becomes 
 more ripened and confirmed. Now, dear hearers, 
 would this be the case, were the sinner in all re- 
 spects, in the condition in which God creates and 
 places the rational subjects of his government? Has 
 he not wandered from the true position of an accoun- 
 table immortal creature? Is he not out of the way ? 
 As he advances on his path, you observe, that instead 
 of feeling the proximity and attractions of home with 
 all its nameless endearments, he becomes more and 
 more restless and dissatisfied, hunted and harassed 
 with a sense of exile, ever increasing as time rolls 
 on. Is not this the mark of being lost ? Would the 
 10 
 
110 SERMON V. 
 
 sinner feel thus, had he <^ returned to the Shepherd 
 and Bishop of souls," and were he led by him " into 
 the green pastures, and by the quiet waters " of sal- 
 vation? No, my impenitent hearer, that very rest- 
 lessness and dissatisfaction, which no effort of yours 
 can prevent, are God's messengers stationed in the 
 constitution of your nature to premonish you that 
 you are lost I 
 
 III. God''s dealings with them, in the present 
 world, prove that unrenewed sinners are lost. On 
 this point, the divine administration over men for 
 ages past, has been full of instruction. God's acts 
 are unequivocal evidence, how he regards those who 
 are the subjects of them. As a matter of indispu- 
 table fact, then, how has God treated sinners in the 
 present world? Has he shaped the course of his 
 dealings with them, as a class of his rational creatures, 
 who are safe at home, unexiled, unalienated from, 
 their God? In the acts of God towards them, have 
 sinners been practically and by implication regarded 
 as living loyally in his presence, resting by faith and 
 love in the bosom of his infinite benevolence, dwell- 
 ing at ease beneath the shadow of the Almighty, in 
 no danger of mistaking the way to true happiness 
 here, and to the heaven of the holy hereafter? No, 
 my dear hearers, the history of God's administration 
 over the world teaches a far different lesson. In the 
 long train of judgments that have scourged, and at 
 times, well nigh extinguished, our sinning race, we 
 behold a great system of means appealing powerfully 
 to the fears of man, to induce him to turn from his 
 evil ways, cease his wanderings, and seek safety in 
 the favour of God. These judgments contain Iqs- 
 
SERMON V. Ill 
 
 sons of impressive warning to wanderers^ to "those 
 that are out of the way,^^ that have strayed from 
 the path of his commandments. The acts of God's 
 retributive providence, stand out along the course of 
 time, as beacons to tell of those eternal billows of 
 wrath, that await the lost in their final shipwreck in 
 eternity. So the frowns and chastisements visited 
 on individuals, speak of God's controversy with them 
 for what? for being in the path of safety now, and 
 urging their way onward to consummated redemp- 
 tion in heaven? God forbid; but for being out of 
 the path of life, and for wilfully wandering in the 
 broad road to perdition, to the consummated woes of 
 the lost in hell ! These visitations are God's stern 
 messengers to them, warning them to turn from the 
 error of their way, and be saved. And what is im- 
 plied in every revelation which God has made to 
 man since that intimation to the first pair in Eden 
 after the fall, that the seed of the woman should bruise 
 the serpent's head? What necessity #ould call for 
 repeated interpositions of God, to reveal his counsel 
 and will to a class of rational beings, who were safe 
 in the paths of rectitude, walking in the very light of 
 his countenance, and led and controlled by supreme 
 love to him ? In every supernatural communication 
 from heaven to earth, we have evidence that God 
 regards men as in need of light, but in need of it for 
 what? manifestly to enable them to find a way in 
 which, by nature, they are not walking. Amongst 
 the blessings which God only can bestow, the Psalm- 
 ist enumerates the following: " Thou ivilt show 
 me the path of life.'* The entire revelation of God 
 to man every where assumes that he is lost, that he 
 
112 SERMON V. 
 
 needs light and controlling influences from above to 
 bring him back into the way that leads to heaven, 
 the home of the soul. 
 
 IV. The direct declarations of Scripture and 
 the provisions of the gospel, prove that impenitent 
 men are lost. The oracles of God utter a language 
 and bear a testimony on this point, whose pertinence 
 and weight it would seem impossible to overlook. 
 *'A11 we like sheep have gone astray.'' "I have 
 gone astray like a lost sheep." "But go rather to 
 the lost sheep of the house of Israel." I am not sent 
 but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." " Ye 
 that were sometime afar off, hath he brought nigh." 
 "Lo, they that are far from thee shall perish." " But 
 if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are /o5/." 
 And what gives so inimitable a pathos to the para- 
 bles of the lost sheep, the ten pieces of silver, and 
 the divine tragedy of the Prodigal Son? The great 
 master-thou^it designed to be excited by these rep- 
 resentations is obviously the lost condition of the 
 sinner, requiring the interposition of infinite mercy 
 to recover and save him. What gives significancy 
 to the character and offices of Jesus Christ as a Sa- 
 viour? Why "the Son of man came to seek and to 
 save that which was lost.'^ He became incarnate, 
 took part with his brethren in flesh and blood, that 
 "he might have compassion on the ignorant, and 
 them that are out of the wayP Hence he is rep- 
 resented as a Shepherd whose peculiar function it is 
 to seek those that are lost, and to guard the flock 
 from straying, and lead them to a proper destination. 
 He is represented as a prophet, the great prophet 
 like unto Moses, who was to be raised up to teach 
 
SERMON V. 113 
 
 the truth of God fully and without a figure, and to 
 make known the way of eternal life, without sha- 
 dows or symbols. Yea, he is himself emphatically 
 styled "//ie tvay.^^ Now why his union with our 
 nature, and why these peculiar offices, were it not a 
 fact that sinners are lost? This fact receives a most 
 impressive testimony to its truth from the aitgust 
 sacrijice of the Son of God. What means that deep 
 humiliation, that emptying himself of the uncreated 
 glories of his divinity which marked the Saviour's 
 assumption of our nature, and his entrance into our 
 world ? What means the poverty of his birth and 
 life, denied as he was from his first breath^'a place 
 whereon to lay his head? What mean the unrelent- 
 ing and rancorous persecutions of kings and rulers, 
 priests, scribes and elders, and the contradiction of 
 sinners against himself, which he endured through 
 life.'* Why was he a man of sorrows and acquaint- 
 ed with griefs, his countenance more marred than 
 any man's? What means the aggravated and hei- 
 nous treachery of Judas that betrayed him into the 
 hands of sinners? What mean the sorrows of Geth- 
 semane, the prayers and tears, the gloom and groans, 
 the great sweat of agony, and the angel S3^mpatlnes 
 of that memorable night in the garden ? What mean 
 the judicial mockery, the perjury of suborned wit- 
 nesses, the scoffs and scourging, the spitting upon 
 and buffeting of Pilate's Hall and Herod's audience 
 chamber, and the final sentence of condemnation so 
 palpably and monstrously unjust, that the pagan 
 judge himself strove to wash his hands of its deep 
 and damning guilt? Look at the scourged and 
 bleeding Lamb of God, meek and innocent, bearing 
 10"^ 
 
114 SERMON V. 
 
 his cross on the way to Calvary ! "There they cru- 
 cified him/' There he voluntarily makes his soul an 
 ofTering to God through the eternal Spirit for the 
 sins of the world! What mean those bodily tor- 
 tures? that deeper, keener anguish of spirit imprint- 
 ed on his every feature, as he exclaims, "Eloi, eloi, 
 lama sabachthani!!" What means that darkness 
 which has so suddenly veiled all tl>e shining hosts 
 of heaven in sackcloth and shrouded earth in unwont- 
 ed gloom? Hark! What means that loud cry — "It 
 is finished?'* and the Son of God gives up the ghost! 
 What means the shock that nature to her centre 
 feels — that shakes the world, and rends the rocks, and 
 cleaves the tombs, and wakes the dead? ! this is 
 the utterance, this the sublime eloquence in which 
 God proclaims that sinners are lost!! The blood 
 of Christ shed amidst all those tragic wonders of the 
 crucifixion is the mighty expiation made to save 
 them!! Nothing less than this would have been an 
 adequate remedy for their ruin. Would such an 
 atonement ever have been made, such attractions 
 ever have centred in the cross to draw all men to the 
 Saviour, had they not been "wretched wanderers 
 lost?" What need we farther witness on this point? 
 Yet the ministration of the Holy Spirit bears ad- 
 ditional testimony to this melancholy truth. Why 
 are its unseen visits and almighty energies necessary 
 to the soul's conversion? Were sinners not abso- 
 lutely lost, why would it be requisite that God, the 
 Holy Ghost, should become their counsellor and 
 guide? Had they not strayed hopelessly from their 
 God, why would the illuminations, the new-creating 
 and irresistible energies of his Spirit, be indispensably 
 
SERMON V. 115 
 
 necessary to bring the wanderers home? In every 
 visit then of this divine Messenger to the soul of 
 man, God is bearing a silent but most impressive tes- 
 timony to the truth, that the sinner is lost, in him- 
 self, hopelessly lost! 
 
 V. The conviclions of the awakened sinner tes- 
 tify that men, in their natural state, are lost. When 
 under the convicting influences of the Holy Spirit, 
 the estimate which man has of his real condition in 
 the sight of God is more likely to approach the truth 
 than at any other time. To aid him in forming a 
 correct opinion of his moral character and condition 
 in this case, he has the illuminating power and the 
 successful teachings of the Spirit of truth itself; that 
 divine agent whose peculiar function it is to "con- 
 vince the world of sin, of righteousness, and of judg- 
 ment to come." Now, what is the predominant agi- 
 tating thought in the mind of the merely awakened 
 sinner? True, he feels his guilt as a rebel against 
 God. His multiplied and heinous sins arise in spec- 
 tral train, and terrify his soul. The fangs of remorse 
 fasten in his conscience; he condemns himself, and 
 is cut to the heart with a sense of ill desert. But 
 when well nigh goaded to agony under an apprehen- 
 sion of the enormity of his guilt, there arises another 
 feeling more strangely sad, more insupportably de- 
 pressing — the feeling that he is lost. No child, se- 
 vered from home, and straying alone in a pathless 
 wood by night, ever wept a tear or uttered a moan 
 of desertion and solitude comparable to those of the 
 truly awakened and convicted sinner. Oh, what an 
 oppressive loneliness comes over his soul ! He hears 
 not, or heeds not if he hear, the din of this world's 
 
IIG SERMON V. 
 
 mirth and business. He becomes silent and sadly 
 thoughtful. To him now his exile from God has 
 become a living, present, felt reality! The idea of 
 a wretched prodigal in a far country commends itself 
 to him now with a new and mournful significancy, 
 as peculiarly and precisely descriptive of his own 
 convictions and feelings in reference to his present 
 spiritual state. How friendless d^ndi forlorn does he 
 feel himself to be! Wandering about he knows not 
 whither — homeless and shelterless, outcast and soli- 
 tary, his heart dies within him. Lost to his Father 
 in heaven — lost to the blessed Saviour and Shepherd 
 of souls — lost to hope — lost to the present joys of 
 salvatiort — lost to holiness — lost to the anticipated 
 home of all the righteous, when their pilgrimage 
 shall have ended — lost, lost, lost, the perpetual, sad- 
 dening sound that rings in his ears — the one undy- 
 ing thought that burns his bosom to the core, and, 
 by its maddening impulse, drives him to the verge 
 of deep despair! It is the predominance and pun- 
 gency of this feeling which is mainly instrumental 
 in bringing the awakened sinner to receive and ap- 
 preciate Jesus Christ as a Saviour. Now, what are 
 we compelled to infer from the fact that such is the 
 prominent and distressing conviction of the awakened 
 sinner respecting his stale, in the honest hours of his 
 anxiety about his soul? His tears, his sighs, his soli- 
 tary anguish, his sense of deep desertion — of home- 
 less exile — of returnless distance from God, and se- 
 verance from the sympathies and fellowship of all 
 the holy — these constitute a consenting utterance on 
 this point from every awakened sinner since Abel, 
 " deep calling unto deep," in their convictions, across 
 
SERMON V. 117 
 
 the chasm of ages, and warning tlie impenitent of 
 every generation that they are lost! 
 
 VI. Lastly. — The consciences of wicked m&n in 
 the dying hour testify that they are lost. 
 
 The testimony of conscience, I am aware, cannot 
 always be taken without qualification. It is capable, 
 in certain circumstances, of being so bribed and per- 
 verted as to bear false witness. But this is gene- 
 rally effected by the pleas of self-interest and sinful 
 indulgence. It is while the man is in health, and in 
 hot pursuit of worldly gain or guilty pleasures, that 
 conscience can be quieted by opiates, or suborned by 
 a flattering sophistry to testify falsely. When men 
 find that, willing or unwilling, they must lay them 
 down to die, and quit the world, then the tempta- 
 tions to bribe and pervert conscience lose their 
 power. Now, what testimony, articulate or inarti- 
 culate, do the consciences of most wicked men hear 
 in the honest dying hour? To the impenitent, un- 
 reconciled soul, what is it that shrouds that hour in 
 a darkness so deep and dismaying? What knits that 
 sinner's brow in the severity of more than mortal 
 anguish? What causes those eyes to look the unut- 
 terable agonies of the soul within? What has drawn 
 on that pallid countenance the lines of a wild, un- 
 earthly surprise and solicitude, which tell of a fiiiling 
 heart and of fleeing hope? Why is that lip occa- 
 sionally curved in maddened determination, as though 
 the rebel soul were, by anticipation, marshalling its 
 powers of enmity and resistance to meet the shock 
 of com.mencing an eternal war with its God? Why 
 is there no celestial ray to relieve the unbroken 
 gloom of that face — to smile on the sinking features, 
 
118 SERMON V. 
 
 and to circle the wan cheek of death with the rain- 
 bow of immortal hope and promise, wreathed even 
 on its sweat and its tears? Are all these tragic phe- 
 nomena the necessary attendants upon the mere phy- 
 sical event of death itself? Must all these sable and 
 sad insignia of the king of terrors be displayed as 
 symbols to tell what it costs a safe^ happy soul to 
 quit the body and pass into a brighter, better scene 
 of being? Ah, no! These all become mournfully 
 significant of something quite different in the soul's 
 last conflict, when we listen to the testimony of the 
 dying sinner's conscience. That testimony is sim- 
 ple, brief, direct, and terribly sublime! "/ am 
 lost! — my soul, tny immortal soul, is eternally 
 LOST !" This is the giant thought read from every 
 line of agony in the dying countenance, and spoken 
 with a hundred tongues in every death-groan; this 
 the one resistless conviction that leads the way in all 
 the recoilings of horror and wild dismay of dissolu- 
 tion, and that brings on the soul, before it quite for- 
 sakes its clay, the tremendous foretaste of the pains 
 of hell, and the despair of a ruined eternity! In 
 every impenitent death-scene, then, since Cain's, 
 conscience, in all the overwhelming eloquence of 
 that last, honest, awful hour, has borne its unequivo- 
 cal evidence to the fact that the sinner is lost. This 
 is its last echo in the soul as it quits the world, and 
 goes to have the truth confirmed in the final sen- 
 tence of God's tribunal! 
 
 If such be the irrefragable proof that the impeni- 
 tent sinner is lost, then we infer, in the first place, 
 that Christians ought to exert themselves most 
 strenuously for his salvation. My dear Chris- 
 
SERMON V. 1 ID 
 
 tian friends, how is it that our " knees are feeble and 
 our hands hang down " in our efforts to save the 
 lost soul ? Had you the same evidence that one of 
 your own children, or one of your neighbour's chil- 
 dren, were literally lost, as you have that your own 
 children and others around you are spiritually lost, 
 oh, would it be possible for you to be so listless and 
 inactive? And yet you profess to believe that all 
 the interests of the present life that might be perilled 
 by an individual being literally lost, are but as the 
 mere dust of the balance, when weighed against those 
 eternal interests of the soul that are in jeopardy every 
 hour till the lost sinner is found by the Saviour. Re- 
 capitulate here, in the close of this subject, the evi- 
 dence which gives so absolute a certainty that the 
 impenitent sinner is lost. Contemplate his whole 
 course through life. Do not his actions proclaim 
 more emphatically than words, that he is lost? 
 Think of his intervals of restlessness and dissatis- 
 faction with himself, when his mind blindly beats 
 against the barriers of his limited earthly portion, in 
 search of something beyond. Do not these strug- 
 gles of the immortal principle within him tell both 
 you and him that he is lost? Review the dealings 
 of a holy God with him, and hear the voice of retri- 
 butive justice, in flood and fire, sword and pestilence, 
 blighting and mildew, famine, desolation, and de- 
 struction, warning the sinner that he is lost, and ap- 
 pealing to your sympathies in his behalf! Read the 
 direct declarations of scripture on this subject, and 
 bow reverently to these awful truths of God's ora- 
 cles. Look at all the provisions of the gospel, and 
 see how the assumption of the sinner's lost estate 
 
120 SERMON V. 
 
 runs throughout, and gives character to the whole 
 remedial scheme. Every aspect and office of the 
 incarnate Redeemer silently points to the sinner as 
 lost. Hear that loss proclaimed in the groans of 
 Gethsemane — in the tortures and cries of Calvary — 
 echoed at the tomb of Joseph, and reiterated in the 
 ascent from Olivet, and let your heart begin to yearn 
 and melt over the sinner! Hear the testimony of 
 the deep and agitating convictions of all awakened 
 sinners, and call to mind the wormwood and the gall 
 which yourselves once tasted, in order that you may 
 feel the certainty, the fearful reality, of the sinner's 
 lost condition. Go to the death-bed of all the wicked, 
 and listen to the united testimony of their consciences, 
 shrieking out, in the despairing agony of dissolution, 
 the awful truth that the sinner is lost. Then think 
 of the nature of this loss. It is the soul that is lost; 
 lost to holiness, hope, heaven, God, and a blessed 
 eternity ! The soul of your brother — your wife or 
 husband — your sons and daughters, are thus lost! 
 Then look up to Christ the Saviour, on his throne 
 in heaven, and behold the amazing sympathy there 
 that yearns over the lost soul, that woos and en- 
 treats it to be reconciled to God, and then tell me. 
 Christian, what means our apathy on this subject? 
 Oh, how awfully criminal our indolence! Why are 
 not our hearts wrung with agony, and our arms 
 nerved with the strength of Christ, for their rescue? 
 Why have we not compassion on some, pulling them 
 out of the fire? From our own families, and from 
 multitudes around us, the appalling cry comes over 
 our souls to-day — lost, lost, lost! God! awaken 
 thy people to weep, and pray, and labour with their 
 might for the salvation of the lost. 
 
SERMON V. 121 
 
 Finally. — My dear, impenitent hearers, as your 
 lost condition has hecn so satisfactorily proven to 
 you this day, how can I, in view of it, dismiss you 
 from the sanctuary again without a word of tender 
 expostulation, and a tear of unaffected sorrow and 
 sympathy. I am bound, by my high commission as 
 God's minister, to warn you faithfully that you are 
 lost; or, neglecting to do so, if the sword of divine 
 justice falls on you, I shall be responsible for the 
 blood of your souls thus shed. But, irrespective of 
 this, there is something in the very thought that you 
 ARE lost now which overwhelms my heart with 
 anguish. The dear youth of my flock lost! No 
 Father in heaven to shelter them in his bosom 
 amidst the storms of earth — no Saviour to guide 
 their feet in the path of life — no Holy Spirit, the 
 Comforter and Sanctifier, to be with them amidst 
 the perils and pollutions of the world — no family of 
 angels to surround their dying pillows — no home for 
 their precious souls in that boundless hereafter to 
 which they hasten! The impenitent of every age 
 here before me lost — straying on the dark moun- 
 tains of sin to-day, their feet in slippery places, and 
 doomed to slide in due time, and they to fall into an 
 eternal perdition! Oh, can it be indeed so! How 
 hard to realize it! — lost, lost, absolutely lost now, 
 TO-DAY ! Oh, ye wanderers, blame not the tear that 
 starts over your forlorn condition ! What can I do 
 for you? My lost hearers, oh, what can I do for 
 YOU? You are out of the way, straying from your 
 God, and hastening to the deep and dark chambers 
 of eternal death ! What sacrifice would 1 not cheer- 
 fully make to reclaim you. I am willing "to spend 
 U 
 
122 SERMON V. 
 
 and be spent for you " — to devote my sorrowful 
 days and wearisome nights for your benefit — to 
 preach, and weep, and pray for you, amidst all " the 
 pains and ills that flesh is heir to." Will you hear 
 me? Oh, will you just give me your serious, undi- 
 vided attention while I repeat to you the blessed an- 
 nouncement of the text? — "For the Son of man is 
 come to seek and to save that which was lost." 
 Sinner, He is here seeking for you in the sanctuary 
 to-day. He speaks to you in that silent assent which 
 your own conscience now gives to the truths presented 
 in this discourse. His finger has touched your heart 
 in that tender emotion which you now feel, as you 
 reflect on your lost condition, and on his infinite 
 condescension in coming to seek and to save you. 
 Will you yield to him now? Will you permit him 
 to take you by the hand to-day, and lead you back 
 from all your wanderings to himself? He is the 
 way, the truth, and the life; and the experience of 
 all the finally lost through eternity will amply attest 
 the tremendous truth, — " Lo, all they that are far from 
 Thee shall perish!" 
 
SERMON VI. 123 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 "And behold there talked with him two men, which were Moses and 
 Elias ; who appeared in glory, and spake of the decease which he should 
 accomplish at Jerusalem." — Luke ix. 30, 31. 
 
 In the verses immediately preceding the text, we 
 have the record of the only aspect of visible splen- 
 dour or personal glory which the Lord Jesus Christ 
 ever assumed during his ministry on earth. The 
 circumstances in which he exhibited this specimen 
 of the celestial grandeur of his divinity were very 
 peculiar and of a kind quite confounding to human 
 calculation. It was not in the royal city, the centre 
 of curiosity and intelligence, amidst the nobles of 
 the nation, the men of science and the dignitaries of 
 the church that the Son of God shone for a season in 
 the native resplendency of his divine nature. It 
 was on the top of a solitary mountain with three 
 humble followers, Peter and John. and James, as the 
 only spectators. It was not when working some 
 great and striking miracle, and thus asserting his 
 lordship over the laws of nature, and his claims to 
 an equality with God, the Father and Creator. It 
 was in the humble posture of a suppliant. "As 
 he prayed, the fashion of his countenance was al- 
 tered, and his raiment w\is white and glistering:" 
 (the original is,) " was brilliant and dazzling as light- 
 ning." Such was the amazing change that had sud- 
 
124 SERMON VI. 
 
 denly passed on the personal appearance of the Sa- 
 viour, and such the oppressive splendour of that 
 bright cloud, that atmosphere of glory, which clad 
 the mountain top, and closed around the little group, 
 that they fell on their faces so bewildered with sur- 
 prise, fear, and joy, all blended, that they knew not 
 where they were, nor what they said. What added 
 greatly to the wonder and awe inspired by this 
 scene, was the mysterious, yet veritable apparition 
 of two individuals from beyond the curtained boun- 
 daries of the present life — from the shadowy realms 
 of those long dead ! These two individuals came on 
 this occasion, not in those misty forms and pale ha- 
 biliments with which mortal imagination invests 
 them, but as redeemed and perfected spirits in ce- 
 lestial costume — in the resplendent robes of their 
 glory. Mankind have always entertained the idle 
 wish, or the wanton curiosity to witness some di- 
 rect and magnificent manifestation of the Deity, and 
 to see or know, from personal observation, some- 
 thing of departed spirits. Now, here is a divinely 
 authenticated case, combining both these coveted 
 objects of knowledge. But sinful curiosity is no 
 better satisfied, than had this instance never occurred. 
 Here is "the brightness of the Father's glory and 
 the express image of his person^^ on a mountain 
 of this world, in the radiance of his divinity, and 
 his own word, in another place, assuring us that 
 " he that hath seen me hath seen the Father P Will 
 not this sufiice? No! this is not the place, nor this 
 the manner, in which mere idle inquisitiveness 
 wishes to be gratified, by witnessing a sensible mani- 
 festation of God. The Lord Jesus had too serious 
 
SERMON vr. 125 
 
 a)i aim in his transfiguration, to satisfy tliis vain 
 wish, it was to establish his claims as the Messiah, 
 "the Christ of God," and thus bring on man the ob- 
 ligation to believe in and submit to Him, and the 
 responsibility of refusing Ilim at the peril of eter- 
 nal perdition. The carnal heart covets no display 
 of the Godhead, however grand and imposing in 
 itself, if it associates considerations like these. 
 
 But again; here arc Moses and Elias, not recalled 
 like Lazarus, or the son of the widow of Nain, so 
 soon after death, as to leave room for skepticism to 
 doubt whether their souls had really passed into 
 " the spirit land." No ; the one had been dead about 
 fifteen hundred, the other about nine hundred years. 
 They are now, each in his appropriate and recog- 
 nisable identity, back on earth again. Will not this 
 suffice as an instance of real return from the veiled 
 and eternal state of the deceased? No; idle cu- 
 riosity is grievously disappointed in this case, be- 
 cause these two made no marvellous disclosures re- 
 specting the mode of existence, and the strange 
 condition and employments of departed spirits. 
 This is the more tantalizing to such curiosity, from 
 the fact that the record states that these two re- 
 turned spirits were not silent on this occasion. They 
 did speak, and perhaps in mortal language too. — 
 There was a theme, on which they and the Son of 
 God, amidst all the glories of the scene, mutually 
 conversed, and on which they dwelt with a thrilling, 
 a profound interest. But what mighty topic was 
 befitting an hour like this, and sufficiently grand 
 and commanding for an interchange of thought be- 
 tween a group of minds the most exalted that ever 
 11* 
 
126 SERMON VI. 
 
 have met, or ever will meet, in the world's history. 
 " They spake of the decease which He should ac- 
 complish at Jerusalem r^ How it mocks the cal- 
 culations of worldly minds, and vexes the spirit of 
 vain speculation, on the future condition of disem- 
 bodied souls, to be informed that these two distin- 
 guished men, Moses and Elias, when they returned 
 to earth, after having been so long dead, should have 
 made the death of Christ the only and all-absorbing 
 subject of their conversation. And yet, this very 
 topic, doubtless, had a depth and intensity of inte- 
 rest, sufficient to justify the Son of God in his trans- 
 figuration, and these two glorified spirits in their 
 miraculous return to earth, in bestowing on it ex- 
 clusively, the conversation of their splendid inter- 
 view on the mount. I propose, then, in the subse- 
 quent remarks, to suggest some considerations con- 
 nected with the death of Christ, which we may sup- 
 pose, were deeply interesting as subjects of conver- 
 sation to Moses and Elijah, and the Saviour himself, 
 on the mount of transfiguration. 
 
 I. The decease which Christ should accomplish 
 at Jerusalem, was to be the consumm,ation of that 
 system of the law and the prophets, in which Moses 
 and Elijah had felt so deep an interest during 
 life, and in the establishment and administration 
 of which they both had borne so distinguished a 
 part. The toils of the one, as the divinely com- 
 missioned legislator of Israel, and of the other, as 
 the favoured prophet of the Lord to that people, en- 
 ter largely into the sum of that human instrumen- 
 tality, by which God founded and forwarded the 
 first dispensation under which his great remedial 
 
SERMON VI. 127 
 
 scheme tor man was developed to the world. The 
 deep interest which these two holy men felt in the 
 progress and success of the old dispensation, viewed 
 as the commencement of God's stupendous plan of 
 mercy, and as introductory to the advent of the 
 Messiah, and the more glorious ministration of the 
 gospel, may he judged of hy the labours and self- 
 denials, the sacrifices and sufferings that fill the his- 
 tory of their long and anxious lives. With an en- 
 largement of mind which "the inspirations of the 
 Almighty" only could give, they saw, even through 
 all the darkness of that dispensation, its infinite im- 
 portance to this lost and guilty world, as an essen- 
 tial preliminary to the completed developments of 
 the gospel in these last times. No less than the 
 gospel, it was God^s plan, the wisest and best that 
 could be formed and carried forward for the recove- 
 ry and moral discipline of men in the then existing 
 state of the world. It was, at the time, the only 
 hope of our fallen race. With its types, and sha- 
 dows, and ceremonies, it constituted a symbolical al- 
 phabet, suited to moral infancy, by which God was 
 teaching those great and vital truths that are now 
 presented, clearly and without a figure, in the New 
 Testament. 
 
 W^hile they were yet on earth, both Moses and 
 Elijah saw the day of Christ afar off — they had a 
 glimpse of the " Star that should come out of Jacob," 
 twinkling in the horizon of the far distant future. 
 They saw, too, that all the peculiarities of the old 
 economy, pointed to the Lord Jesus as the Messiah 
 promised, and to come — that this gave it its entire 
 significancy as a divine dispensation, and that ulti- 
 
128 SERMON VI. 
 
 mately, nothing could rescue it from the charge of 
 awful imposture, but the actual appearance of just 
 such a Messiah as Jesus Christ, who should sustain 
 such a character, and suffer, and die, just as he was 
 now about to do at Jerusalem. Is it matter of won- 
 der, then, that during their lives, Moses and Elijah 
 should have felt a deep and absorbing interest in 
 this system of the law and the prophets? But they 
 had been long parted from this world, and resident 
 in a state of glory. Yet our text indicates, that 
 their sympathies and holy solicitude were still iden- 
 tified with this scheme, that they watched its pro- 
 gress, and awaited with eager expectancy its con- 
 summation. It imbodied the interests and the hopes 
 of that race with whom they once mingled in these 
 terrestrial scenes, and over whom they still yearned 
 in the celestial charity of "the spirits of just men 
 made perfect." And now, they had returned from 
 glory to a spot of earth which one of them had seen 
 from the top of Pisgah, and the other had trodden 
 over in the execution of his prophetic office, and 
 here they meet the Messiah in the glory of his 
 transfiguration, just about to accomplish a decease at 
 Jerusalem, which would consummate that great sys- 
 tem of the law and the prophets, which had en- 
 grossed their toils and cares in time, their sympa- 
 thies and benevolent expectations in eternity. What 
 a meeting was this! — the only one ever held on 
 earth in which the redeemed in heaven were repre- 
 sented by some of their own number "appearing in 
 glory P^ 0! with what rapture did these exalted 
 spirits from above gaze on the eternal Son of God! 
 With what eloquence divine did they talk with 
 
SERMON VI. 129 
 
 Him, and He with them, of the decease which he 
 should accomplish at Jerusalem, of its mighty effect 
 as the closing event of that ancient dispensation, for 
 whose advancement they had lived, in whose partial 
 light they had died in faith and holy hope, and 
 whose completion they had desired for ages in 
 heaven! 
 
 H. A second consideration associated with the 
 death of Christ, w^hich we may suppose was full of 
 interest to these two glorified spirits, was the slu- 
 pefidotcs influence yet to he exerted by that event 
 on the moral condition of this ivorld which they 
 once inhabited. 
 
 It does no violence to reason or revelation, to as- 
 sume that Moses and Elijah, though translated to 
 the spheres, and possessing the perfected and im- 
 partial benevolence of the spirits of just men in 
 glory, yet felt a peculiar and home-\\kG. interest in 
 every thing that had a direct bearing on the spiri- 
 tual renovation of that world from which they had 
 themselves been redeemed. Its present woes, and 
 its prospective blessings, under the future influence 
 of that decease which should soon be accomplished 
 at Jerusalem, none of the living could estimate as 
 could these two glorified minds. The long ages 
 which JNIoses and Elijah had spent in the light and 
 augmenting intelligence of heaven, must have great- 
 ly enhanced their knowledge of the number and 
 magnitude of those tremendous evils which sin has 
 introduced into the world, and tended to swell the 
 holy sympathies of their hearts in its behalf. It is 
 the world where they once dwelt, tJie home of their 
 mortality, inhabited stillby a race with whom they 
 
130 SERMON vr. 
 
 feel themselves connected by the links of a former 
 existence, and their miraculous return now to meet, 
 on one of its mountains, its mighty Redeemer, brings 
 back the tender and solemn remembrances of ages 
 gone by, and deepens their interest in its moral des- 
 tinies. But, 0! how differently do they now look 
 on the desolations which sin hath wrought on this 
 earth, from what they did when dwellers here in 
 tenements of clay, and before their mortal had put 
 on immortality ! If, in the present life, the reviving 
 influence of God's Spirit on the hearts of his people 
 brings them to contemplate the ruin and miseries of 
 their impenitent fellow-men with an enlargement 
 of view, and a depth of feeling so much beyond the 
 measure of their ordinary experience, what, in the 
 case of Moses and Elijah, must have been the effect 
 of the expanding light of heaven for ages? How 
 gross to their eye, must have seemed that darkness 
 which covered the people — how deep and dreadful 
 its folds contrasted with the cloudless scene, the 
 robes of light, and glittering crowns, and all the 
 bright characteristics of their existence in the realms 
 of the blest. In their comprehensive view, what 
 dire realities were the pollutions and degradations 
 of this world lying in wickedness, contrasted with 
 the purity and elevation to which they had so long 
 been accustomed in the world of happy spirits! 
 How numerous, varied, and powerful, the prejudices 
 of men against the gospel, contrasted with the esti- 
 mate which they had been accustomed to see it re- 
 ceive from the hosts of heaven, and the holy delight 
 and joyful eagerness with which angels desired to 
 look into its mysteries of g^ory to God, and blessed- 
 
SERMON VI. 131 
 
 ness to the universe. How base and baleful the 
 various forms of error and superstition, contrasted 
 with those lofty and intuitive convictions of truth, 
 and that intelligent, spiritual worship, with which 
 they and their celestial associates of all orders had 
 been long familiar ! How fortified and gigantic the 
 enmity of the human heart against God, contrasted 
 with that sweetly subdued spirit of supreme love 
 that they had witnessed veiling tlie faces of cheru- 
 bim, casting crowns of glory at Emanuel's feet, and 
 winging every mind of heaven's myriads for a swift 
 and implicit obedience to Jehovah's will! From 
 this appalling view of the world in which they once 
 dwelt, Moses and Elijah now turn their thoughts, 
 and begin to converse with the transfigured Saviour, 
 respecting the decease which he should accomplish 
 at Jerusalem. Why.'* because they see that that 
 event will yet exert an influence which shall com- 
 pletely change the moral aspect of our world. Du- 
 ring their own life-time, each of them was aware 
 that it was this grea#event, indicated by sacrifices, 
 and beheld afar off by faith, which had exerted all 
 the redeeming influence that the world then, or from 
 the beginning, had ever experienced. And now, 
 they behold and actually converse with the long 
 promised Messiah respecting this august sacrifice of 
 himself, just on the eve of being ofiered! They 
 now see that it will soon be proclaimed as a fact 
 that Christ has died and risen again the third day, 
 and that this simple announcement will be accom- 
 panied by so glorious a " ministration of the Spirit," 
 that the shadows of the dispensation in which they 
 laboured, will suddenly flee away, and the church 
 
132 SERMON VI. 
 
 of God, putting on the beautiful garment of her New 
 Testament form, shall arise and shine in a renovated 
 glory. They see that it is the Cross of Christ, 
 preached and believed on in the world, which is to 
 carry forward "the hidings of a power" that shall 
 yet bring out "a new heavens and a new earth," a 
 new spiritual creation from the ruins of the old. At 
 the proclamation of this decease which Christ was 
 then about to accomplish at Jerusalem, every idol, 
 great and small, of the millions of heathen, shall yet 
 be dashed on their faces and broken as Dagon of 
 old. The massive and complicated frame-work of 
 paganism, over the whole earth, shall be dissolved 
 and scattered to the winds, and the myriads dark- 
 ened, degraded, and enslaved, within its enclosure, 
 be brought out into the marvellous light, and the 
 glorious liberty of the sons of God. What an as- 
 tonishing transformation would this appear to us, 
 could we conceive of it as completed to-day! But 
 toe contemplate it as so far distant in the future, that 
 it well nigh loses its reality, wl#!e Moses and Elijah, 
 being long done with our measurement of time, re- 
 garded it as a fact, stript of its relation to time, and 
 realized in their minds as a present truth, eflfected 
 by the simple, yet sublime means, of preaching 
 Christ crucified. They were much more capable 
 than we, of computing the amazing influence of the 
 doctrine of the atonement, in transforming a guilty 
 dying world. This was the great central event 
 with which they had been most familiar during their 
 lives, as looming in a kind of severe glory, highest 
 above the horizon, that then bounded their prophetic 
 vision, and as pointed to by all the awe-inspiring 
 
SERMON vr. 133 
 
 riles of the economy under wliicli they ministered. 
 It is now at hand, and they converse with the Son 
 of God respecting its wondrous power to revolu- 
 tionize the moral condition of that world from which 
 they were redeemed, and which they had now re- 
 visited. They well know now the influence of this 
 decease, of which they speak as the chief corner 
 stone of that glorious kingdom of Messiah, which 
 they had prophesied should be set up in the last 
 days. This kingdom, which has to dispute with 
 the powers of darkness every foot of territory which 
 it gains — which finds all the kingdoms of this world 
 leagued in deadly hostility against it — which finds 
 every subject it claims, in formal revolt and deter- 
 mined rebellion — which has to contend with all the 
 obstacles that diversity of national character and 
 habits — that long cherished and overgrown systems 
 of error and delusion, pride and prejudice, throw 
 in its way — this kingdom is now to receive an im- 
 pulse from the decease of which they speak, that 
 will energize it to force its march over them all, 
 and make its triumphant way round the wide world, 
 leading all its crowded millions captive, bringing 
 them into subjection to the obedience of the faith, 
 binding them, notwithstanding all their former re- 
 pellencies, in the unity of the Spirit, and the bonds 
 of peace, pervading every heart with pure, di:?iaLe- 
 rested love, filling the vast circle of human society 
 with righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost, flooding th*-- who!' ^arth with the knowledge 
 of God, and lighting it up with millennial giory. 
 And this stupendous achievement, which will stand 
 alone in the eternal administration of God over all 
 12 
 
134 SERMON VI. 
 
 intelligences, is to be effected by that decease which 
 Christ should accomplish at Jerusalem! What a 
 theme for Moses and Elijah, as they talked with 
 Jesus!! But they traced still farther the bearings 
 of this decease on human destiny. They saw the 
 connexion between the event that was to follow, 
 and form, as it were, a part of this decease, the re- 
 surrection of Christ, and the influence it would have 
 in restoring one species of the ruins of sin in our 
 world, for which no recuperative power could have 
 even been conjectured, that is, the perished bodies 
 of the saints. It is no vague fancy to suppose that 
 Moses and Elijah felt a very peculiar interest in the 
 mysterious doctrine of the resurrection. Let it be 
 called to mind here, that Elijah was caught up to 
 heaven in the body, and knew from experience and 
 consciousness, what a wonderful mechanism of 
 blessedness the human body was, when fashioned 
 for immortality, and for ever beyond the power of 
 death and the grave. It is worthy of notice too, 
 that the destiny of the body of Moses is veiled im- 
 penetrably from the world. Unlike all the pious 
 and distinguished before and after him, Moses died 
 alone with his God on the mount. Though not ex- 
 empt from the stroke that severs the soul from its 
 frame-work of matter, yet his body may have been 
 soon reunited to his spirit in its permanent resur- 
 rectionary glory, and it may have been this very 
 event, this re-union, which the Devil so sternly re- 
 sisted when he ** disputed with Michael, the arch- 
 angel, respecting the body of Moses.^' Or, perhaps, 
 his resurrection had been reserved for this splendid 
 occasion, and he now, for the first, appeared in the 
 
SERMON vr. 135 
 
 full glory of his redemption, as a special witness, 
 to confirm the truth that He who was about to pass 
 from the transfiguration to the cross, and thence to 
 the tomb of Joscpli, was, nevertheless, ''the resur- 
 rection and the life.^^ If these thoughts be rea- 
 sonable, then we may imagine what a subject of 
 profound interest this was to Moses and Elijah, 
 when they talked with Jesus of that decease which 
 he should accomplish at Jerusalem, as connected 
 inseparably with the resurrection of that whole race 
 with which they were still linked and identified by 
 a community of nature. This event was coupled 
 with one whose influence was yet to be felt on every 
 atom of all the organized human bodies of the 
 world through all the ages of its duration ! It was 
 the decease and resurrection of Him "who shall 
 change our vile bodies, and fashion them like unto 
 his glorious bo^y." What a wondrous change on 
 the utter wreck to which sin has reduced our mor- 
 tal part ! These events, about to take place in the 
 holy city then, w^ere to carry with them reserved 
 energies, which, at the winding up of this terrestrial 
 scheme, were to be felt by the undistinguished ashes 
 of thousands of generations! The scattered dust of 
 all who love his appearing, He who w^as now about 
 to die and rise again, would raise up and reorganize 
 in the unfading beauty of immortal youth ! What 
 a glorious triumph this, of Christ over death and 
 hell ! — what a magnificent consummation to re- 
 deemed human nature ! and what a theme for the 
 interchange of thought and holy emotion, by three 
 such personages as Christ, and Moses, and Elijah, 
 clad in their glory on the top of Tabor!! 
 
136 SERMON VI. 
 
 III. Another consideration which we may sup- 
 pose deeply interested Moses and Elijah in the de- 
 cease which the Saviour should accomplish at Jeru- 
 salem, was the vast influence which that event 
 would have on the moral government of God over 
 those other and loftier provinces of the divine do- 
 minions with which they, as redeemed spirits, had 
 become personally acquainted. Doubtless, these 
 two exalted minds, in the long ages of their intel- 
 lectual discipline in heaven, and with the range and 
 comprehensiveness of thought thus acquired, must 
 have had an intimate knowledge of the great prin- 
 ciples of moral government. They must have also 
 obtained overwhelming views of the immensity of 
 God's kingdom — the worlds and systems of worlds 
 controlled by his government. They could see the 
 equity and glorious adaptation of that government 
 to all the various orders of inteyigences in all 
 worlds over which it was extended. They could 
 form some estimate of that amazing aggregate of 
 happiness which could be produced, sustained, and 
 perpetuated only by the steady and increasing in- 
 fluence of this government throughout the rational 
 creation. They knew that the order, and peace, and 
 purity, and bliss of God's universal empire, whose 
 extent and infinite interests they had been studying 
 during their long residence in glory, depended, not 
 on an arbitrary fiat of his physical omnipotence, but 
 on the strength of those peculiar influences exerted 
 by his moral governmenc. We cannot easily con- 
 ceive how important it appeared to Moses and Elijah 
 that that government should be sustained over the 
 wide universe with an eternally growing and efiec- 
 
SERMON VI. 137 
 
 rive energy. Atid now, amidst all the thrilling asso- 
 ciations of their visit to earth, after so long an ab- 
 sence from it, in a brighter |j^here, and amidst all the 
 strange glories of the transfiguration, the decease 
 which He should accomplish at Jerusalem engrosses 
 their attention and fires their eloquence, as they talk 
 with Jesus of the wondrous influence which that 
 event will yet exert on the moral government of 
 Jehovah over his entire dominions, and through the 
 everlasting duration of his reign. What an exhibi- 
 tion of the divine character would it make to all 
 worlds! What mightiest one of all the exalted ranks 
 in heaven ever thought, till he witnessed the mea- 
 sure of God's LOVE in the gift and death of his 
 only begotten Son for our world, that this attribute 
 of the High and Holy One, whom he adored, was 
 so ineffably glorious ? — that God himself could ex- 
 ercise a condescension so sublime — that there were 
 in his infinite nature such " fountains of the great 
 deep " of mercy as were now to be broken up and 
 poured in diluvian fulness on a world all guilty and 
 degraded, and bound over to the retributions of a 
 woful eternity! What an appeal can the divine go- 
 vernment make from that tragic decease accom- 
 plished at Jerusalem, to all the tenderness, to all the 
 love and loyalty, the gratitude and admiration of the 
 universe! What a new and controlling energy does 
 the everlasting love of God carry from the de- 
 velopments of the cross of Christ over the intelli- 
 gent creation! Moses and Elijah knew also that 
 another element of strength to Jehovah's moral go- 
 vernment was furnished by the alternating and con- 
 trasted exhil)ilIons of mercy niid justice, or, as tlie 
 \2<^ 
 
1 38 SERMON VI. 
 
 scriptures appropriately express it—" the goodness 
 and severity of God.^^ Now what one of the 
 mightiest " spirits in prison,'' in all the agonies of 
 his immortal wo ever thought, till he witnessed the 
 measure of God's wrath against sin, in the cries, and 
 tears, and blood, and dying anguish of his only Son 
 at Jerusalem, that there was in the being of a God 
 of love so stern and awful a hatred of sin — so in- 
 flexible a determination to punish it — the elements 
 of such eternal storms of holy indignation to over- 
 whelm the finally impenitent and incorrigible of his 
 dominions! What incalculable strength do the sanc- 
 tions of God's law receive from such an event as 
 that decease accomplished at Jerusalem by his own 
 Son, in the place of the guilty. What an appeal to 
 the most comprehensive fea'rs and forebodings of all 
 intelligences can his government now make while 
 he holds up before them the midnight of deep sor- 
 rows in the garden, and the morning of still deeper 
 woes on Calvary, as the expression of his feelings 
 against sin, and pours on their astounded ear the ex- 
 clamation — "If these things be done in the green 
 tree, what shall be done in the dry?" Now as they 
 converse with Jesus on this subject, what may we 
 suppose were the conceptions whicli Moses and 
 Elijah formed of the influence which his decease 
 would exert on all worlds of intelligences through- 
 out eternity!! What a vision it opened to them! 
 In their view the very pillars of the eternal throne, 
 at whose base they had so long been accustomed to 
 prostrate themselves and worship, seem now to stand 
 in a more overawing massiveness and stability! 
 The obedience and loyalty of the entire hoh^ crea^ 
 
SERMON VI. 139 
 
 tion seem now to be doubly secured by this won- 
 derful decease of the Son of God, whilst his moral 
 gov'ernment is fitted by it to move on with accele- 
 rated speed, and ever accumulating power to the ac- 
 complishment of all its measureless purposes of good 
 to the universe! is there not a moral grandeur 
 in this theme, rendering it pre-eminently appropriate 
 as the subject of conversation by the Son of God in 
 his transfiguration, and the two distinguished spirits 
 that appeared with him in glory ! 
 
 IV. May we not suppose that Moses and Elijah 
 had a sufficient knowledge oithat extended and sub- 
 lime unity amongst God^s intelligences which the 
 scriptures intimate is to be effected by the death of 
 Chiust^ to make it also a topic of this conversation 
 with Jesus on the mount? That the blood-of the 
 great atonement was designed to effect a reconcilia- 
 tion to the Father, or a unity of other intelligences 
 besides man, would appear probable from the fol- 
 lowing pointed declarations of scripture: — "For it 
 pleased the Father that in him should all fulness 
 dwell. And, having made peace through the blood 
 of his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto 
 himself; by him, I say, whether they be things in 
 earth or things in heaven." What may be the pre- 
 cise character of this reconciliation of the "things 
 in heaven " b}^ the blood of the cross we know not, 
 and perhaps cannot know at present. But it must 
 be a result of ^infinite importance to the holy of 
 God's upper kingdom; for it " pleascd'the Father" 
 that in Christ "all fulness should dwell," which 
 might be necessary not only to reconcile unto him- 
 self the " things in earth," but, in some mysterious 
 
140 SERMON VI. 
 
 and wonderful way, to bring all orders of celestial 
 beings into a more glorious harmony, a more inti- 
 mate union with the infinite God himself. Whether 
 it was the attraction which his attributes, as exhi- 
 bited in the blood of the cross, would exert on the 
 holy orders of heaven, drawing them towards Him 
 with emotions in unison with those of reconciled 
 and redeemed souls on earth, or whether it was a 
 union of views amongst all intelligences in heaven 
 and earth respecting the wisdom, grandeur, and 
 transcendent influence of the atonement as a mea- 
 sure of the divine government; or, still further, 
 whether it was a glorious harmonizing or uniting of 
 the activities, the social principles, and the spirit- 
 ual joys of all orders in heaven and earth, so as to 
 bring the entire holy creation, as the heart and the 
 soul of one man, eternally more close to the great 
 Jehovah than it ever would have been but for the 
 blood of the cross, we are not competent, at present, 
 to decide. But we think it not presumptuous to 
 suppose that Moses and Elijah, after their blissful 
 centuries in glory, did understand the nature of this 
 comprehensive and august reconciliation or unity of 
 all orders of intelligences, and see the connexion 
 which such an arrangement of his universal king- 
 dom had with new and more exalted disclosures of 
 the God whom they adored. Whatever this great 
 result may be, and with all its bearings on the rela- 
 tion between celestial beings and God himself, Mo- 
 ses and Elijah saw that it was to be effected by the 
 decease which Christ should accomplish at Jerusa- 
 lem. It was " the blood of his cross'' that was to 
 work this amazing change on the "things in hea- 
 
SERMON vr. 141 
 
 ven." And though so high a mystery that the 
 scriptures but hint at it, and mortal capacities can- 
 not penetrate it, nor mortal tongues speak intelli- 
 gibly on the subject, yet these two i?nmoi'taIs, re- 
 turned to our earth in glory, talked with Jesus on 
 the mount, of this vast and glorious result of his 
 atonement as a part of the joy set before him, and 
 for the purpose of animating him for the conflict 
 and dee]) sorrows, the ignominy and the tortures of 
 his crucifixion, as well as to fire their own spirits 
 with the hope of an enhanced blessedness from this 
 source through immortality. And this leads to the 
 remark, 
 
 V. Lastly. — That it is most natural to suppose 
 that Moses and Elijah, in conversing with Jesus re- 
 specting the decease which he should accomplish at 
 Jerusalem, spake of the injluence which that event 
 would exert on the happiness of heaven through 
 eternity. On this topic the limits of time, not to 
 say of capacity also, forbid us to expatiate. In a 
 world so replete as ours with the curse and the 
 woes of apostacy from its God, tlie best conceptions 
 ive can form of the bliss of heaven, in its lowest de- 
 gree, are feeble, vague, and totally unworthy the 
 lofty theme. But these two redeemed spirits la- 
 boured under no such disadvantage. They had just 
 returned from the upper world, with all their capa- 
 cities dilated, and overflowing with its happiness. 
 The one had spent fifteen hundred, the other nine 
 hundred of our years, amidst the unapproachable 
 light and unspeakable joys of heaven. They knew 
 Ihe nature of those joys, from what sources they 
 were derived, and what events in the divine admi- 
 
142 SERMON VI. 
 
 nistration were adapted to promote them. What, 
 then, may have been their conceptions of the influ- 
 ence of the death of Christ on the bliss of heaven 
 through eternity! What an overwhelming thrill of 
 joy did the exhibition of the divine character given 
 in that event produce around and nearest the throne 
 of the Eternal ! And how will the memory of it, 
 cherished deeply by holy millions of superior intel- 
 ligences, keep up those ever-widening waves of bliss 
 that it put in motion, till their circumference shall 
 have included every holy mind in the universe, and 
 completed the circle of eternity ! How many, in 
 other and distant worlds, may have been saved from 
 hopeless apostacy by the influence which the death 
 of Christ gave to God's moral character over them, 
 and by the far-reaching attractions of the cross, been 
 brought to swell his train, and augment the joys of 
 his celestial courts! For it has always seemed to 
 me that holy beings on probation might be essen- 
 tially aided in keeping "their first estate" by the 
 influence of the death of Christ, as well as that fallen 
 beings should be recovered and ultimately saved by 
 it. But what transports of bliss will it send through 
 heaven, what raptures impart to its sweetest song, 
 when all its inhabitants are summoned to celebrate 
 the final victory of the Son of God over the whole 
 world, and his ultimate triumph over death and 
 hell, in the morning of the resurrection and the day 
 of judgment, all resulting legitimately from the de- 
 cease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem! 
 What splendid events are these, on which angels' 
 thoughts and angels' tongues will for ever dwell 
 with a fuller and deeper delight from the very fact 
 
SERMON VI. 143 
 
 that they are the consequence of the death of their 
 adored Lord! And then what shall we say of the 
 myriads of this world rescued from the doom of an 
 eternal hell, and raised to the joys of an endless 
 heaven, only by the blood of the cross. These are 
 all an absolute gain to the happiness of the universe 
 that could be effected alone by the great atonement. 
 Now, were this multitude, which no man can num- 
 ber, to enjoy but a low degree of happiness through 
 eternity, still, in this view, the influence of that de- 
 cease of Christ which secured this blessedness would 
 be very great, it being a blessedness absolutely ad- 
 ditional to all that ever could have existed in the 
 dominions of God, had it not been for the atoning 
 sacrifice of the Lamb that was slain. But the scrip- 
 tures intimate that the bliss of those redeemed from 
 amongst men is to be very peculiar — is to have an 
 intensity all its own. In heaven the spirits of just 
 men made perfect are to hold a peculiar relation to 
 the Lord that bought them. They are to be like 
 him; the only beings in heaven that will exhibit an 
 exact pattern of his glorified human nature on the 
 mediatorial throne. They are to have a new name 
 given them, which none know but they that receive 
 it. They are to sing a neio song — the song of Mo- 
 ses and the Lamb. What an intimation is here of 
 bliss the most exquisite, that is to be enjoyed in 
 heaven! Now, Moses and Elijah knew what a 
 depth of meaning, what a divine significancy, this 
 intimation respecting the joys of heaven contained. 
 They had long experienced those joys, and had 
 tuned their harps and tried their immortal voices on 
 the new song, and had learned that its sweetest ac- 
 
144 SERMON VI. 
 
 cents were imparted by the death of Christ. "To 
 him that loved us and washed us in his own blood" 
 was the most rapturous line in that seraphic song! 
 This they knew had been and was to be the theme 
 of the great hallelujah chorus of heaven's eternal 
 anthem! But, in addition to the influence which 
 the death of Christ would exert on the bliss of re- 
 deemed myriads for ever, these two glorified spirits 
 saw that that event also held a causative connexion 
 with the most august scene, perhaps, that now re- 
 mains to be unfolded amidst all the disclosures of 
 God's eternal administration; that is, the consum- 
 mation of ImmanueVs mediatorial reign, when 
 he shall deliver up the kingdom to the Father, at 
 the time of the restitution of all things ! The influ- 
 ence which so sublime an issue may have on the 
 joys of all holy beings we cannot conjecture, though 
 doubtless Moses and Elijah could. At this great 
 juncture in the cycle of eras and ages, when the me- 
 diatorial scheme shall have attained all its ripened 
 and ulterior results, and shall no longer be neces- 
 sary, but God, the absolute God, shall be " all in 
 all," it is probable that the condition of his univer- 
 sal kingdom will approximate very nearly to what 
 it was before sin entered, and invaded its peace and 
 blessedness. All enemies to its happiness and holi- 
 ness will then have been put under the Mediator's 
 feet, every disturbing cause shall cease, and that 
 glorious and final order which God eternally pur- 
 posed for his empire shall be established, which will 
 pour new tides of joy over the universe for ever! 
 Oh, we seem to see the unearthly animation of their 
 countenances, the expression of kindling rapture in 
 
SERMON VI. 145 
 
 every line and feature, as they talk with Jesus on 
 the near prospect of his sufferings, and encourage 
 him hy pointing to this glory that should follow, 
 and to these infinite joys set before him! What 
 wonder that, with such a theme filling the souls 
 and firing the tongues of Christ, and JNIoses, and 
 Elijah, the fashion of their countenances should be 
 so changed, and they should appear in so transcend- 
 ent a glory as utterly to overwhelm the three mor- 
 tal disciples who were spectators at this scene! 
 Mortal eyes were too feeble to look steadfastly on 
 so rich a specimen of celestial splendour in our 
 world — mortal ears too weak to listen to this burst 
 of immortal eloquence, as they talked with Jesus, 
 and spake of the decease which he should accom- 
 plish at Jerusalem ! 
 
 We learn from this subject, in the first place, 
 with what interest lue ought to meditate and con- 
 verse on the death of our blessed Lord. Nume- 
 rous topics of thought and of conversation must ne- 
 cessarily have suggested themselves to Moses and 
 Elijah during this visit to a world where they had 
 once lived, suffered and died, and from which they 
 had been so long absent. But the decease which 
 the Son of God should accomplish at Jerusalem in- 
 volved interests and issues of such amazing magni- 
 tude as to make it the absorbing theme, to the ex- 
 clusion of all others. And, my dear hearers, our 
 best interests and most exalted destinies, for the 
 world of time and the '^ world without end," are 
 inseparably connected now witii this same wonder- 
 ful event. The cross of Christ ought still to be the 
 great centre of all our thoughts — the commanding 
 13 
 
146 SERMON VI. 
 
 theme of every tongue. By it we are to be cruci- 
 fied to the world, and the world to us. From it our 
 souls derive their nobler life. With it stand con- 
 nected all our correct knowledge of God, in the 
 glories of his redeeming mercy; all our best know- 
 ledge of ourselves — our condition here, and our pro- 
 spective destinies hereafter. By the cross tempta- 
 tion loses its power, sin its dominion and polluting 
 influence — grace grows — the soul is transformed into 
 the beauty of holiness, triumphs at last over death, 
 and takes its upward flight from Calvary to hea- 
 ven. Oh! how profoundly ought ive to meditate 
 on the decease which Christ hath accomplished at 
 Jerusalem! And, brethren, with what a concentra- 
 tion of thought and feeling, with what clear and 
 piercing views of faith, ought we to approach the 
 ordinance which commemorates this unparalleled 
 event! Oh, what might not this church obtain to- 
 day by coming, whole heart and soul, into the ful- 
 ness of this subject — the death of Jesus Christ; his 
 death for us while we were yet sinners! One 
 hour of intense and well-directed meditation on this 
 amazing event, especially while the memorials of it 
 are present and appealing to our very senses, might 
 change the moral aspect of this church, cause its 
 face to shine as an angel's, and its garments to be 
 white and glistering as its Lord's for years to come! 
 We learn from this subject, again, that those who 
 are best qualified to judge of it have a very diffe- 
 rent estimate of the death of Christ from that of 
 men. Redeemed spirits in glory, and higher or- 
 ders of intelligences, are assuredly more competent 
 than men to judge in this matter. The Bible teaches 
 
SERMON VI. 147 
 
 that the former are all intensely interested in this 
 most signal event. Angels desire to look into it. 
 The third heaven, if we may judge from these two 
 visitants on the mount, who came directly from its 
 light and joys, is full of this theme. It wakes the 
 loftiest, loudest strains of the praises of eternity, and 
 wraps in dilating adoration the most exalted minds 
 amongst the thrones and dominions, the principali- 
 ties and powers in heavenly places. They are so 
 overawed with these revelations of glory that have 
 followed and are yet to follow the sufferings of 
 Christ, that they are represented as falling down 
 and worshipping " Him that sitteth upon the throne 
 and the Lamb for ever and ever." Now, while 
 these mighty intelligences are lying on their faces 
 before the throne and amidst their scattered crowns 
 at the feet of Jesus, what think you is their esti- 
 mate of the decease which he accomplished at Jeru- 
 salem? Oh, what an event is that in the regards of 
 all the loftier, nobler hearts of the moral creation ! 
 How awfully do the opinions of the cold Unitarian 
 and the proud Rationalist contrast with the estimate 
 of the death of Jesus cherished by the bowing, 
 adoring, glowing hearts of heaven, as they exclaim, 
 with a loud voice, ^'■Worthy is the Lamb that ivas 
 slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and 
 strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing!'' 
 
 Finally. — This subject presents in a striking 
 light the heinous guilt of those loho reject a dying 
 Saviour. Whilst all the unfallen and the redeemed 
 of God's dominions arc keenly alive to the great 
 interests and eternal results of the decease accom- 
 plished at Jerusalem, does it not seem a shocking 
 
148 SERMON VI. 
 
 paradox, that the very creatures for whom espe- 
 cially Christ died should disregard his death, and 
 utterly reject him as a Saviour? My impenitent 
 hearers, how shall I address you on this subject? If 
 the views presented in this discourse be sound and 
 scriptural, then there is a magnitude and a malignity 
 in your sin of rejecting Jesus Christ, of which to be 
 compelled in faithfulness to tell you is truly heart- 
 rending! Will you not look at it yourselves, now, 
 in the light which is thrown upon it from the mount 
 of transfiguration? This Jesus, the fashion of whose 
 countenance is now so changed with radiant glory, 
 and who is proclaimed from the bright cloud that 
 overhangs him to be God's eternal, well-beloved 
 Son, is the one whom you reject, and whom, by 
 doing so, the Scriptures affirm you " trample under 
 fooiP^ The blood which he shed in that decease 
 which he accomplished at Jerusalem — that amazing 
 decease which was the theme of conversation by 
 Moses and Elijah, in their visit from eternity to the 
 Son of God, on the mount — which is connected 
 with the happiness of earth through all time, and 
 the bliss of heaven through all eternity — which is 
 filling all the noblest minds and warmest hearts of 
 universal being with new and wonderful thoughts 
 and emotions — on which the holy creation, with 
 Jehovah as their exemplar, have placed an infinitely 
 high estimate — the blood which he shed in such a 
 decease, and shed for you, is the very blood which 
 your God charges you with " counting an unholy 
 thing V 
 
 But I cannot pursue this fearful subject further. 
 Christian, how does the sin of rejecting Christ ap- 
 
SERMON VI. 1 49 
 
 pear io you't Oh, sinner! how does this sin now 
 appear to you, under the weight of its unpardoned 
 guilt? How does it appear to Moses and Elijah, 
 and all the redeemed in heaven, and the holy of the 
 universe? Oh, exalted Son of God! how must this 
 sin appear in thine eyes, that once wept in Geth- 
 semane and were sealed in the darkness of Calvary, 
 but are now as a flaming fire, piercing with their 
 burning gaze the sinner's inmost soul! 
 
150 SERMON VII. 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 " Surely every man walketh in a vain shov7." — Psalm xxxix. 6. 
 
 In the representations of human life, contained 
 in the Scriptures, there is a tender and touching 
 melancholy. To illustrate its brief and transitory 
 nature, the Bible selects images of the most delicate, 
 frail, and passing objects around us. It is said to 
 be "as the grass, and. as the flower of the grass," — 
 "as the swift ships" — as the flight of the eagle "has- 
 tening to the prey " — " as a tale that is told " — as 
 "a vapour that appeareth for a little while, and then 
 vanisheth away" — "a wind that passeth away and 
 cometh not again " — as a handbreadth " — " as no- 
 thing and vanity''^ compared with the eternal being 
 of God. These figures of speech indicate a brevity 
 of human life, sufficiently humbling and tantalizing 
 to the fond hopes and proud aspirations of man. 
 It requires but little depth of thought, on this sub- 
 ject, to be convinced, that in addition to this mourn- 
 ful brevity, there is much also that is unsubstan- 
 tial and shadowy in our present existence. So- 
 phocles, a heathen poet, many centuries ago — ar- 
 rived at this conclusion, and made a declaration very 
 similar to that of the psalmist in our text. He re- 
 marks, "I see that we who live are nothing else 
 but images and a vain shadow." This, indeed, is a 
 
SERMON VII. 151 
 
 peculiarly sorrowful view of human life. Its length 
 is but ^*a handsbreadth " — its duration "as the 
 flower of the grass/' and yet shadows instead of 
 substance make up the greater part of this momen- 
 tary existence. 
 
 7'he world is one great stage, and its mighty ge- 
 nerations as so many actors arrayed in mock cos- 
 tume, and sustaining assumed and unreal characters, 
 and performing the hollow feats of those mere 
 images thrown on the canvass, by certain optical 
 instruments. So truly does this illustrate much 
 that pertains to our present life that the saying has 
 well nigh become proverbial, — "What shadows we 
 are, and what shadows we pursue." How unsub- 
 stantial is every thing that is related onli/ to our 
 fleeting earthly existence ! Its joys, and its sor- 
 rows, its hopes and its fears, its plans and purposes, 
 its toils and cares, and sleepless solicitudes are but 
 as the shadows that paSs over the plain, compared 
 with those spiritual things related to the soul as a 
 moral and immortal agent living and acting for eter- 
 nity! When we confine our views exclusively to 
 our present existence, and analyze critically all its 
 elements and varying phases, we feel that the de- 
 claration of the psalmist in the text has a most 
 mournful significancy. '^ Surely every man walk- 
 eth in a vain show.'' 
 
 Permit me now to submit to you, my hearers, 
 some considerations to illustrate and confirm this 
 inspired assertion. 
 
 I. Every man walks in a vain show, as respects 
 the plans of life, which he forms. To a superficial 
 observer, the plans and enterprises of men have of- 
 
152 SERMON VII. 
 
 ten a most imposing aspect — they make a great 
 show in the world. Contemplate every man's 
 plans of gain — of acquiring riches. Are they 
 founded on sober real data ? Are they influenced 
 and modified essentially by the great principles of 
 analogy, which the experience and observation of 
 all past generations suggest in such a case ? Are 
 the foundations of these plans, laid in soberness and 
 truth ? Do they accord with attested realities in 
 the past history of our race ? No. They are pro- 
 jected on a scale of magnitudes, such as exists only 
 in the fairy realms of fancy, and such as never yet 
 measured the actual success and prosperity of any 
 man in similar circumstances. An exaggeration at- 
 taches to them, that places these plans amongst the 
 dreams of romance, or the incidents of fiction, rather 
 than amongst the sober realities of human experi- 
 ence. No one man of a million ever realizes in all 
 its parts, the gorgeous picture of wealth and pros- 
 perity which the extravagant pencil of youthful 
 fancy has painted for him. His schemes wholly 
 overlook the cross incidents that must be encoun- 
 tered in the pursuit of wealth, and that are inevita- 
 ble in a system, where man's impotency to make 
 that " which is crooked, straight," stands confessed 
 in every page of the history of human endeavours. 
 These plans seem to be formed on the assumption 
 that man himself has the control of the very ele- 
 ments, and is the all-potent arbiter of events. They 
 have also an almost illimitable compass, and con- 
 template a duration for their accomplishment twice 
 or thrice the ordinary length of life itself. Under 
 the impulses of a young and ardent imagination, man 
 
SERMON vir. 153 
 
 enters on the execution of these chimerical plans 
 flushed with the hope of complete success. Does 
 he not in this respect " walk in a vain show ?'' Are 
 not these plans in their very nature, more like the 
 shadows of objects magnified by the solar micro- 
 scope, than the objects themselves seen by the na- 
 ked eye in an ordinary light? In the attempt to 
 realize them, will they not prove to be but shadows, 
 and elude his grasp when man in the eagerness of 
 his pursuit seems within a single step of the con- 
 summation of his wishes? This mockery of panting 
 desire and breathless haste, and palpitating expec- 
 tancy of the crown of wealth, has occurred in in- 
 stances so numerous as to confirm and give point to 
 the assertion of our text — that "every man walketh 
 in a vain show." 
 
 This sentiment is equally verified in tlie plans 
 which men form to acquire fame. The love of re- 
 putation is natural, and the desire to enjoy the good 
 opinion of others, if kept within proper limits, is 
 laudable, and exerts a salutary influence on charac- 
 ter; but this instinctive desire is often perverted, 
 and passes into a jjassion for fame. Under its mor- 
 bid influence, men form the most extravagant plans 
 for the acquisition of this airy good. In his calcu- 
 lations each one takes not into the account how 
 many eager competitors will crowd and jostle him 
 in the road to fame. He does not measure the 
 force of the encounter, that he will necessarily have 
 with that sleepless envy which is galled and goaded 
 to desperation by the prosperity and good name of 
 others. He makes no deductions for the nefarious 
 work of the busy tongue of calumny and detraction. 
 
154 SERMON VII. 
 
 He does not estimate the power of the organized 
 and almost omnipotent jealousy of those around 
 him at his growing fame. He overlooks the fact 
 too, that it is a striking feature in the economy of 
 God's providence over the world, that the greatest 
 merit is often permitted, for a season at least, to be 
 unappreciated, and the purest virtue to be depressed, 
 whilst pretension and profligacy are prosperous and 
 triumphant. He forgets also that he is in the midst 
 of conventional forms, where heartless compliment 
 and hypocritical encomium are much more common 
 than sincere praise. Nor does he take into account, 
 the extreme caprice and unaccountable versatility of 
 popular opinion. He does not consider that society 
 is still rife with that same wayward and fickle spirit 
 which one day shouted "Hosannah to the Son of 
 David," and the next day cried out "Away with 
 him, crucify him, crucify him." Each man's plans 
 of fame are formed with no reference to these un- 
 toward facts. They embrace and provide not against 
 any of these disastrous contingencies. They seem 
 to be formed on the assumption that the individual 
 himself has the control of the minds and hearts and 
 tongues of society, and with more than the adroit- 
 ness of the rope-dancer or the harlequin, is able to 
 ride upon the quickly shifting wings of the wind of 
 popular opinion. Hence, to the man's own mind 
 and in the view of others these plans have a ficti- 
 tious magnificence. His anticipated fame, therefore, 
 which is to result from them, is empty as the school- 
 boy's dream, and baseless as castles built in air. It 
 is a shadow that passes over the plain of life, and 
 leaves not a trace behind. No man, in every re- 
 
SERMON VII. 155 
 
 spect, realizes his early and fond hopes of fame. 
 There is a promise held out to him, that is never 
 fulfilled, and in his splendid plans and calculations 
 he exhibits an appearance to the world which is in- 
 trinsically hollow. In this respect "surely every 
 man walketh in a vain show." 
 
 This is equally true, as regards the plans of men 
 for attaining influence and power. The love of 
 power is one of the strongest passions of human na- 
 ture. Nor, is it strange, that under its impulses 
 men should form the most exaggerated and even 
 monstrous plans to compass an object so eagerly co- 
 veted. These plans, like those already noticed, over- 
 look the deductions which facts in the past experi- 
 ence of our race show ought to be made, when we 
 estimate the degree of influence or power which any 
 one man can reasonably expect to acquire and to 
 exercise over his fellow men. In the calculation, 
 no weight is given to the number of notable failures 
 that have been made by others who have pursued this 
 object in circumstances of flattering promise. Nor, 
 after it is acquired, is there a just estimate of the 
 extremely precarious tenure by which influence and 
 power are held. At best it is as a thread of gossa- 
 mer. 
 
 The history of the world is replete with instances 
 in which individuals have been hurled from the 
 summit of power, and their sway over their fellow 
 beings, lost as by magic in a moment and for ever! 
 Yet each generation, untaught and unwarned by the 
 experience of the past, la3^s plans and counts upon 
 power and influence as though no obstacles were to 
 be encountered by any one in commanding and con- 
 
156 SERMON VII. 
 
 trolling the mind, and the heart of every man in 
 the entire sphere in which the individual moves. 
 Each one forgets that his neighbour is his competi- 
 tor in the pursuit of power, loves it as much as he 
 does, and is aiming at as wide a sweep of influence 
 as he. He forgets too that in the heart of every 
 man there is a quick and keen jealousy of power 
 accumulating any where except in each one's own 
 hands. All these things areoverlooked, and the man's 
 plans seem to be founded on the assumption that 
 he *'has the hearts of all flesh in his hand." And 
 it would require this assumption to he true in order 
 that he should realize all that his plans contemplate. 
 Hence they have an appearance to himself, and to 
 others that is deceptive. They have only a vague 
 and shadowy grandeur. Is it not true in this re- 
 spect that "every man walketh in a vain show?" 
 
 n. The assertion of our text is verified in regard 
 to the toorldly hopes which every man cherishes. 
 Man's capacity of hope is an original endowment 
 conferred by his benevolent Creator, as a means of 
 happiness. And had he retained his primeval in- 
 nocence, this capability of reaching after good in 
 an interminable future would have still been neces- 
 sary to complete the resources of enjoyment adapt- 
 ed to his intellectual and moral nature. The sup- 
 position may be allowable, that even a holy mind 
 could not be perfectly happy were it not permitted 
 to look beyond the measure of its present attain- 
 ments and joys to something greater and better in 
 the future. And as God has destined the mind to 
 an immortal career of improvement, hope has an 
 unlimited range, and may bound forward over a fu- 
 
SEUMON VII. 157 
 
 turity of immoQSLirable promise. But the apostacy 
 has perverted this noble capacit}^, and involved it 
 in the common ruin of our other constitutional 
 powers. It now fixes on objects forbidden, or un- 
 attainable, and thus defeats the end for which it was 
 originally given. From the extravagant plans of 
 men, exaggerated hopes will result as an inevitable 
 consequence. If calculation so far transcend reali- 
 ties, and men scheme and count upon so much that 
 is necessarily beyond their reach, hope will of course 
 take a still wider range. Notwithstanding this is 
 pre-eminently a world of disappointment, and the 
 whole track of past ages strown with the wrecks of 
 human hope, yet every new generation is as buoy- 
 ant as though no blight could ever come over the 
 prospects of mortals. On a careful examination of 
 the hopes which every man cherishes, it is sur- 
 prising to find how far they transcend all that he is 
 ever destined to realize. The disproportion is so 
 great, as to inspire a peculiar feeling of sadness, as 
 we contemplate its result on the individual's happi- 
 ness. To the ardent mind of youth, especially, no 
 clouds seem to hang over the future. All is bright 
 and fair. Joys cluster on joys, along the utmost 
 verge of life's horizon. The easy assumption is 
 made that friends will always be true, fame will not 
 be fickle, time will fly smoothly, and bring on the 
 noiseless wing of every hour some new enjoyment: 
 prosperity, accumulating prosperity, only awaits 
 them, till at some imaginary point, their desires and 
 wishes are amply fulfilled, and they are to realize 
 the consummation of all that the extravagance of 
 
 hope has ever suggested! Now, niQ^n ijiight wajk 
 14 
 
158 SERMON VII. 
 
 in gorgeous hopes like these, were earth a paradise, 
 and had they never sinned, were there no adverse 
 elements at work to blast their plans, and frustrate 
 their expectations. But in the world, as it actual- 
 ly is, such hopes are the veriest shadows. In a 
 world where reverses and disappointments, afflic- 
 tions, bereavements, and death, make a permanent 
 part of the system, such hopes are strikingly incon- 
 gruous. They are inconsistent with the soberness 
 of truth, and the teachings of reality, and seem only 
 as phantoms created by a heated imagination, to 
 tantalize the credulous, confiding heart. They bud 
 only to be blighted, or bloom only to fade and. to 
 die. "Surely," in respect of all these extravagant 
 hopes, "every man walketh in a vain show." 
 
 III. This is true as regards the worldly happi- 
 ness of men. In nothing, perhaps, are men gene- 
 rally more overrated than in the actual sum of their 
 temporal happiness. A superficial spectator, un- 
 taught by experience and observation, might, in view 
 of appearances, very naturally conclude that the great 
 majority of mortals were quite happy. Happiness 
 is so obviously the design of God in our creation, 
 and the love and desire of it are so inwrought with 
 the very being of man, that most persons are ashamed 
 to admit that they are not happy. Hence, a great 
 portion of society affect enjoyments which they are 
 conscious at the time that they do not possess. In 
 this matter, a deliberate hypocrisy is practised. 
 Many a smiling face stands as a false index of the 
 heart, and the sunshine of the brow contrasts strange- 
 ly with the cloud and storm beneath. There is "a 
 vain show" of joys that have no substance, no real 
 
SERMON vir. 159 
 
 existence. In this respect, almost every man wears 
 a mask, and acts an assumed and feigned character 
 in the great drama of life. Beneath the fairy light 
 and witching smiles on the surface of society, are 
 darkness and frowns, and bitter tears, and corroding 
 anguish of spirit, an entire nether world of concealed 
 misery. Hence, as regards apparent happiness, it is 
 true that every man walketh in a vain show. 
 
 But we go farther, and affirm that this is equally 
 true of the worldly happiness actually enjoyed. To 
 the casual and unreflective observer, this happiness 
 often appears to be without alloy. One would think, 
 to see the intoxicated votaries of earthly pleasure, in 
 some of their favoured moments, that no deductions 
 were to be made from their enjoyments. For the 
 present, at least, it would seem as though their ca- 
 pacities for bliss were satisfied and filled to over- 
 flowing. But this is not the fact, it is a vain show. 
 In their most delighted moments, the happiest of 
 mortals are conscious that it is not all sunshine, with- 
 out a cloud. Bitter recollections from the past will 
 sometimes make a most impertinent, and unwelcome 
 visit in the hour of their purest worldly joy; or pain- 
 ful forebodings from the future, will throw back their 
 shadows, and dim and sadden the brightest scenes 
 of the present. No mind that has sinned against its 
 God, and is not yet redeemed and restored to the 
 perfection of heaven, can have one hour of/;?^re un- 
 alloyed happiness. But those that are totally alien- 
 ated from God, and on whom His wrath abides, often 
 seem to be perfectly happy, and are pronounced to 
 be so, by the partiality and enthusiastic admiration 
 of friends. Yet this is only a vain show, a phantasm, 
 
let) SERMON VII. 
 
 to^vhich there is no correspondinig reality in the som- 
 ber history of fallen human nature. Every mfen also 
 walketh in a vain show as regards the promise of 
 his continual happiness in this world. Were we 
 to take our data from the happier moments of world- 
 ly men, and could we at such times analyze the work- 
 ings of their own minds, we might be led to con- 
 clude that they regarded a reverse of feeling as im- 
 possible, and expected their enjoyment to continue 
 uninterrupted till the close of life. They appear as 
 though nothing could damp or depress their spirits, 
 no untoward event cast a shadow on the bright cur- 
 rent of life. They bless themselves in their hearts, 
 and assume that they shall not only live many days, 
 but "5ce good in them all." To the captivated 
 heart, and heated imagination of the votary of world- 
 ly pleasure, a deceitful promise is given which whis- 
 pers that these present joys will be permanent, and 
 that the chances of escape from the ills of this dis- 
 turbed and marred state of existence, are all in their 
 favour. Hence there is a confident calculation, an in- 
 tense expectancy of continued happiness, as though 
 no curse of God rested on our race for its apostacy, 
 as though no treachery lurked in human hearts to 
 sting us by betrayal, as though no dissolution of the 
 ties of friendship and of love could create an aching 
 void in our bosoms, as though there were no reverses 
 of fortune, no poverty and want, no disaster and 
 calamity, no disappointments and bereavements, no 
 approaching age with its worn out capacities and its 
 numerous and nameless infirmities, no sickness and 
 death to put a period to the purest and best joys that 
 earth can give. Surely such an appearancp; such a 
 
SERMON VII. IGl 
 
 promise of continued and uninterrupted* happiness 
 in the case of rebels against their God, in a world 
 deranged by sin and riven by the lightnings of an 
 Almighty curse, must be false, "a vain show." It 
 is one of those illusory shadows painted on the can- 
 vass of this present scene, only to cheat the eye of 
 the careless and infatuated beholder. 
 
 IV. Every man walketh in a vain show, in re- 
 spect to tnost of the miseries of the present life. 
 This proposition is not to be understood as denying 
 that there are real miseries endured in the present 
 life. In our deductions from the apparent and actual 
 happiness of men under the preceding head, we have 
 assumed, as indisputable, the existence of numerous 
 and real ills. To this, as a truth, the past experience 
 and present consciousness of the world bear witness. 
 Indeed a world of sinners, though in a state of pro- 
 bation and of mercy, must to some extent be a world 
 of sufferers. Vet the declaration is still true, that in 
 respect to many of the miseries of the present life, 
 ^' every man walketh in a vain show, he disquieteth 
 liimself in vain.'' How often are the lives of per- 
 sons imbittered with anxiety and corroding cares 
 ai)out things over which tlicy have not, and cannot 
 have any control? Yet there is a show of sorrow and 
 solicitude, as though it were their peculiar allotment 
 to be called by Providence with carefulness and tears 
 to busy themselves, and watch over certain train^s of 
 events, just as though those trains were dependent 
 for their course on their will and wish, and could be 
 essentially modified by their anxieties ! A large part 
 of the bustle and vexation of society falls under this 
 calf^gory. 'J'hough our divine Masler has positivelv 
 
162 SERMON VII. 
 
 forbidden as to take any "thought for the morrow/' 
 or to agitate the question, "what shall we eat, or 
 what shall we drink, or wherewithal shall we be 
 clothed," yet every man w^alketh in a vain show of 
 perplexing care, in reference to things over which he 
 has no more control than he has over hts stature, or 
 the contour of his face. Thus a large class of the 
 depressing anxieties of life is wholly gratuitous, has 
 no real foundation, but is a vain show of mortal mise- 
 ry. It gives a false impression, and impugns the be- 
 nevolence of God, for these anxieties imply that they 
 are the necessary means of altering and meliorating 
 the condition of things to which they refer, whilst 
 it is notoriously true that they have no influence 
 whatever, either to remove or to mitigate any of the 
 real ills of life. God has kindly warned his rational 
 creatures against such cares as utterly fruitless, and if 
 in the exercise of their own free agency they will in- 
 dulge them, then divine benevolence is not responsi- 
 ble for the resultant misery. Other kinds of unhap- 
 piness also are equally groundless. What a vast 
 sum of mortal suffering is wholly imaginary. Each 
 man creates a part of his own wretchedness. It is 
 the legitimate offspring of his own fancy. What a 
 multitude of harassing fears and painful forebodings 
 do persons indulge respecting evils that will never 
 overtake them, respecting evils which have no exis- 
 tence, except amongst the creations of their own mor- 
 bid or undisciplined imaginations, the shadowy forms 
 that people the scenes which fancy only paints. What 
 disquietude, tormenting disquietude, is often felt in 
 view of these imaginary ills ? What fruitless labours 
 are often performed in reference to these same unreal 
 
SERMON VII. 1G3 
 
 things? What hours of watohfuhiess and painful cau- 
 tion arc exercised, to avert ills which will never oc- 
 cur? What gratuitous impatience and peevishness 
 are felt under the false apprehension of these fairy 
 evils? What an imposing show of this kind of mise- 
 ry is made by multitudes of mankind ? And yet, 
 like a part of their happiness, it is only apparent, not 
 real: it is a vain show, and constitutes no portion of 
 the actual and inevitable miseries incident to our 
 fallen condition. Thus in his plans and hopes, and 
 joys and sorrows, every man walketh in a vain show. 
 He disquieteth himself in vain. 
 
 V. Lastly. Every man's assumption in regard 
 to the duration of his present life, is a vain show. 
 A careful examination of his earthly plans, hopes, 
 happiness and misery will evince that they are all 
 measured by a scale vastly disproportionate to the 
 actual length of life allotted to mortals. He projects 
 enterprises and forms plans of gain, or of self-aggran- 
 dizement that make a vain show of a length of days, 
 hardly enjoyed by the antediluvians. Were some 
 intelligent being from another sphere, unacquainted 
 with the duration of human life, to examine these 
 schemes, and man's calculations and assumptions 
 respecting the future, he would naturally infer that 
 our mortal existence was continued at least through 
 a period of a thousand years. JNIen eagerly grasp at 
 and endeavour to obtain means of enjoyment which, if 
 acquired, could not be exhausted by them in a period 
 of three times, or in some cases, ten times the or- 
 dinary duration of an individual's life. Most of their 
 calculations in reference to the future are measured 
 by a line which extends far beyond the '"'hands- 
 
1G4 SERMON VII. 
 
 breadth" of time allotted to man on earth. Their an- 
 ticipations of various enjoyments, and the influence 
 thus exerted on their conduct, would lead one to sup- 
 pose that they assumed as granted, that they were to 
 have almost an immortality here below. Every 
 thing connected with their present lives, is unduly 
 magnified, and hence they walk in a vain show as 
 regards the duration of life itself. From an abstract 
 view of the whole career of mortals in the present 
 scene, who would suppose that " three-score and ten 
 or four-score years,'^ was the utmost limit ordinarily 
 of our earthly existence ? In all their thoughts, emo- 
 tions and actions, there is an appearance, a show, of a 
 much longer duration. This is specially illustrated 
 in their procrastination of the momentous concerns 
 of the soul, their prodigality of time and privileges, 
 and their presumptuous calculations on future oppor- 
 tunities. Multitudes who enjoy the gospel, profess 
 to believe all its disclosures respecting the interests 
 and destinies of their souls. They profess a belief 
 too in the doctrine that God has ordained the pre- 
 sent, as a discipline for the future life, and that if 
 these grave eternal interests are ever secured, it must 
 be during the continuance of our present being; nay, 
 that if neglected, the forfeit will be a ruined hn- 
 7nortality ! But what a language does their delay 
 in these matters speak! Days and weeks, and 
 months and years are squandered most prodigally 
 without a serious thought bestowed on the concerns 
 of their souls, as though life were well nigh inexhaus- 
 tible and endless. Indeed, we often find the aged 
 sinner, whose sands are almost run, as thoughtless 
 of present opportunities, and as recklessly presump- 
 
SERMON VIT. 165 
 
 tuous in liis count upon the future, as tliough his life 
 had just commenced, and been guarantied for a cen- 
 tury to come. In this respect vvliat a show of long 
 life does man's conduct exhibit. Yet assuredly it is 
 a " vain show." The truth of God and the melan- 
 choly experience, and observation of all past genera- 
 tions are not to be hidden by this shadow, they am- 
 ply attest how transient is our mortal existence, even 
 as the tints of the rainbow or the fading hues of eve- 
 ning — "a vapour that appearelh for a little while, and 
 then vanisheth away.'^ 
 
 We see from this subject, in the first place, how 
 admirably the gospel meets the wants of our spiritual 
 nature by revealing a 'more substantial and en- 
 during life than the present, which to so great an 
 extent consists in a vain show. With some quali- 
 fication the language of the poet is true, that 
 
 " This world is all a fleeting show, 
 For man's illusion given." 
 
 To every one the hour must come, too, when these 
 illusions of the present life will be broken up, when 
 its imposing show will cease, and its emptiness be 
 seen and felt most bitterl}-. INIan has the germ of a 
 higher, nobler life, than the present. He feels the 
 promptings of immortal desires, and the strugglings 
 of the spiritual element within him, after something 
 more substantial and appropriate to its undying na- 
 ture, than is contained within the compass of this 
 mortal existence. Hence, that God who made man, 
 and who knows what is in him, has provided for 
 him, and revealed an eternal life, which is in Clirist 
 Jesus his Son. This life is all substance, all pro- 
 found reality, and, directly opposed to the vain 
 
166 SERMON VII. 
 
 show of the present: it "is hid\s\ih. Christ in God." 
 It is the life of God in the soul of man, a secret mys- 
 terious principle of vitality, that is to make its full 
 and glorious development only in a future world. 
 
 My dear, impenitent hearers, you who are now 
 walking in a vain show, how ought you to welcome 
 the light of the gospel, which discloses life and im- 
 mortality ! You need this eternal life. You need 
 to feel all its blessed functions begin in your souls 
 now; its heavenly peace — its substantial joys — its 
 buoyant hopes — its blessed promises and bright anti- 
 cipations, to sustain and cheer you in the coming 
 trials of this sinful state. The illusive show of this 
 present existence cannot always last. Before you 
 are aware, it will vanish and leave your souls de- 
 serted, except by the bitter realities which regret 
 and remorse collect at the close, as the sad issues of 
 a misspent life. Oh, then, lay hold on eternal life! 
 This is the great gift which your God has provided 
 for you, and which he urges on your acceptance im- 
 mediately, without another moment's delay. May 
 I not expostulate with you, my impenitent hearers, 
 and endeavour, in all the earnestness and solemnity 
 of an ambassador of Christ, to break the accursed 
 spell of this vain show, which binds you in so fearful 
 a neglect of all the weighty and immortal interests 
 of your souls? Oh, what means this your strange 
 negligence of God's claims — of your own highest 
 happiness? — this deliberate rejection of Christ, and 
 the eternal life which he offers to you? How long 
 v.ill you continue to despise your mercies, and sin 
 against your own eternal interests? Will you any 
 longer "weary" God with "the greatness of the 
 
SERMON VII. 1G7 
 
 way" of your procrastination? Let me tenderly 
 beseech you — and especially the young — to accept 
 the offer of eternal life 7iow made to you. Begin 
 this day to seek the Lord with all your hearts. I 
 conjure you, by every motive that heaven, and earth, 
 and hell can furnish, not to leave the great interests 
 of your souls in jeopardy another hour. Come now, 
 dying sinner; come with your whole soul, in ear- 
 nest, and enter directly upon the work of submitting 
 to God — of repenting of your sins — of believing on 
 the Lord Jesus Christ — of laying hold on eternal life 
 before the dream of your present life be past, and its 
 vain show gone, and you left to the blankness of 
 everlasting despair. 
 
 My dear hearers, you are hastening to scenes 
 where your existence, and all connected with it, will 
 no longer be a vain show, but stern, solemn reali- 
 ties. There will be no deceptive appearance or hol- 
 low form about your last, sad farewell of earth. Your 
 " pains, and groans, and dying strife " will be real, 
 and will have a depth and a significancy becoming 
 the tragic occasion. The sorrows and anguish — the 
 severing ties — the chilly recoilings — the breaking 
 cords of the heart and the drowning dismay of your 
 parting spirits, and all the troubled agonies of your 
 dissolution, will be most grave and momentous re- 
 alities! "The great white throne, and Him that 
 sits thereon — the glory of His Father and of the 
 holy angels " — your account of the deeds done in 
 the body there rendered — the doom then awarded 
 to you, and the allotment on which you shall then 
 enter, will have no vain show; they will be ineffably 
 sublime realities. Heaven, in its noon of splendours 
 
168 SERMON VII. 
 
 and its pealing hallelujahs — its swell of triumph and 
 its rapturous joys, is no shadowy place; it is a divine 
 reality. Hell, in its midnight of darkness and its 
 hideous howlings — its immortal defeat and despair — 
 its rage and revenge — its nameless torments and eter- 
 nal horrors, is no visionary region; it is the most 
 dire of all realities in the universe of God! 
 
 My dear, impenitent hearers, you stand this day 
 close on the verge of one or the other of these two 
 future and fearful worlds! Your deathless souls 
 will very soon appear in their real character, and be 
 fixed beyond reversion in the life of love and bless- 
 ing in the one, or in that of malice and malediction 
 in the other! Which life, which world shall be 
 yours through that eternity that gives duration to 
 the joys of the one and to the woes of the other? 
 
SERMON VIII. 169 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 
 "And bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." 
 —2 Cor. x. 5. 
 
 The religion of the cross lays a broad and uncom- 
 promising claim to the obedience of man's entire 
 nature. Unlike all the systems of heathen morality 
 and of false religion, it extends its province over 
 the secrets of the heart, and aims to purify and con- 
 trol the currents of hidden thought. The most 
 rigid of merely human schemes have never made 
 this bold and difficult attempt. The maxims and 
 precepts, the rites, ceremonies, and sanctions, the 
 entire genius of all such schemes, aims only at 
 making "the outside of the cup and platter clean,'' 
 and hence, their best specimens of character are 
 only as "whited sepulchres.'^ But the cardinal 
 maxim of Christianity is, " make the tree good, that 
 its fruit may be good also." " A corrupt tree can- 
 not bring forth good fruit." "Men do not gather 
 grapes of thorns, nor figs of thistles." And this is 
 in exact accordance with the true philosophy of our 
 nature. The religion of the gospel commences its 
 process of transforming human character in the 
 right place. Unlike most physical changes in the 
 world around us, all changes for the better in man, 
 begin icithin, in the deep thoughts of the soul, and 
 thence work outward, and manifest themselves in 
 15 
 
170 ' SERMON VIII. 
 
 the life and actions. The power of thought is the 
 power that sways man. It "turneth him whither- 
 soever it listeth," it makes him what he is; for " as 
 a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.^' Now, 
 Christianity recognises this as a fact in our moral 
 constitution, and mercifully furnishes us means for 
 the government of our thoughts. In the verses pre- 
 ceding the text, the Apostle speaks of these means 
 under the metaphor of weapons of warfare, and says 
 they are not carnal, but mighty through God. And 
 how does their great might appear ? In the " pull- 
 ing down of strong holds." This is a most expres- 
 sive metaphor to denote their power, through bod, 
 to remove external hinderances to our salvation. 
 But can these w^eapons effect nothing more? — if not, 
 then for the largest and most difficult part of the 
 warfare there is no adequate provision. What is 
 to be done with wayward imaginations, the hidden 
 thoughts of pride, and all that secret world of spiri- 
 tual activity in the soul ? Paul answers, that these 
 weapons are not only mighty through God to the 
 pulling down of the strong holds, but adds, " Cast- 
 ing down imaginations, and every high thing that 
 exalteth itself against God," and, as the climax of 
 their power, ^'bringing every thought into cap- 
 tivity to the obedience of Christ.^' It is obvious 
 from this passage, that the right government of our 
 thoughts is not efifected by the direct or arbitrary 
 power of God. Were it so, then the language here 
 employed would involve a contradiction. For there 
 is a " warfare " and " weapons " spoken of here, 
 yet surely not for God, but for us. He furnishes 
 us the means of a right government of our thoughts, 
 
SERMON VIII. 171 
 
 and gives them their efficiency. But we in the 
 voluntary exercise of our own powers as free moral 
 agents, must use those means. It is we who by 
 these means, and through God, must bring into 
 captivity every thought to the obedience of Clirist. 
 From these words I propose, then, first, to in- 
 quire what is implied in, or what constitutes a right 
 government of the thoughts; and, secondly, to pre- 
 sent some reasons to enforce this duty. 
 
 According to this plan, we are, in the first place, 
 to inquire into the nature of this duty, and ascertain, 
 if we can, what is implied in a right government of 
 the thoughts. 
 
 I. It implies self-inspection, or the noticing 
 carefully what is going on secretly within the 
 mind. 
 
 All government supposes some knowledge of the 
 subjects governed, or to be governed. And a good 
 government is one which is suited to the nature, 
 which meets the wants, protects the rights, pro- 
 motes the interests, and controls the activities of its 
 subjects for the highest and most beneficent ends. 
 Such a government pre-supposes, and is founded on 
 an accurate knowledge of the nature and character 
 of its subjects. So the right government of our 
 thoughts implies, as an indispensable prerequisite, 
 that habit of rigid self-inspection, that careful at- 
 tention to what is going on within our minds, which 
 will enable us to obtain some knowledge of the na- 
 ture and character of our thoughts. This habit of 
 closely scrutinizing the secrets of the soul, is by no 
 means easily acquired. This first step towards the 
 right government of the thoughts, will cost you, my 
 
17^ SERMON viir. 
 
 hearers, a painful effort. It is a step, I fear, yet to 
 BE TAKEN by many professors of religion. It is 
 truly astonishing in these days, to notice how little 
 reflection, how little direct effort to inspect the 
 multitude of their secret thoughts, appears to be 
 practised by some of those who have professed en- 
 tire subjection to the law of Christ. This is an age 
 of outward shows, when even the gravest books 
 addressed to the understanding, the reason, and the 
 moral sentiments, must have their '^pictorial illus- 
 trations,^^ appealing to the eye of sense. Whole 
 classes there are in society now, whose attention is 
 mainly directed outward from themselves, and can 
 only be arrested and fixed by some visible or pal- 
 pable object. Material things, substance, or sha- 
 dows in the world without and around them, engross 
 and monopolize their notice. Attention to these 
 things at present, and the remembrance of similar 
 things in the past, constitute almost the entire em- 
 ployment of their minds. And yet the greatest 
 number of such objects with which any individual 
 can become conversant, will furnish the materials 
 for a small part only of the innumerable thoughts 
 which pass through his mind, and that part the most 
 trivial and unimportant to him, as a moral and im- 
 mortal being. Besides the attention bestowed on 
 all the objects of sense at present, and the remem- 
 brance of such objects in the past — besides the plans, 
 calculations, and enterprises of life, a countless mul- 
 titude of other thoughts flow on daily in a deep 
 under current of the mind. The announcement 
 may surprise you, my hearers, but it is not the less 
 a well authenticated fact, that every night when you 
 
SERMON viir. 173 
 
 retire to your pillows, you have utterly forgotten at 
 least two-thirds of the whole number of thoughts 
 that have passed through your minds during the 
 day and evening. We know of nothing so busy, so 
 pre-eminently active, so surpassingly rapid in its 
 movements, as the human mind. Each day it cre- 
 ates for itself a little world of secret thoughts. All 
 the attention and thoughts necessary to the most 
 diligent prosecution of our ordinary business, are 
 no more, compared with that perpetual fancy-work, 
 that deep flow of secret thought running beneath, 
 than the few passing clouds of summer that float 
 above it, are to the broad river on whose bosom 
 they cast their momentary shadows, but neither 
 ruffle its surface, nor retard its onward and irre- 
 sistible current. Now, we put the question to 
 common sense — how is that individual to govern 
 his thoughts who neglects even to notice the far 
 greater number of them that pass through his mind 
 daily? How would a governor succeed in control- 
 ling subjects, two-thirds of whom he had never 
 thought of, knew nothing of their character, and 
 would not now think of or notice ? What good end 
 could his administration effect for them? The man 
 who would govern his thoughts aright, must fix his 
 attention on all that is going on within his own 
 mind. He must exercise a close discriminatino; ob- 
 scrvation on what is passing tlierc, wliich will ena- 
 ble him to detect the most secret and transient 
 thoughts, and to discover their real character. When, 
 by this habit of rigid self-inspection, he has gained 
 a knowledge of the vast number, the nature, and 
 tlie character of liis secret thought>\, he will then 
 
174 SERMON viir. 
 
 make another discovery of equal importance to him 
 in attempting to govern them, and that is, that they 
 are rebelling and rebellious subjects, often violating 
 the law of conscience and of God. They are wild 
 outlaws that must be captured, tamed, and taught 
 subjection by the dextrous use of the weapons of 
 Christian warfare; a work for which he will feel that 
 he needs to be girded with the strength of the Lord 
 of Hosts. We insist, then, that in order to the 
 right government of the thoughts, the man must 
 know himself, must fix his attention on what is pass- 
 ing within him, must closely watch the busy work- 
 ings of his own mind. If he would successfully 
 master and rule over his own spirit, the highest 
 mastery and rule experienced this side heaven, he 
 must understand the active powers of that spirit, 
 and know that in its very nature it is essentially a 
 thinking being, and that the capacity of thought is 
 what gives it importance and distinction in the 
 scale of intelligent existence. 
 
 II. A second thing implied in the duty of go- 
 verning the thoughts, is to -endeavour to ascertain 
 THE CAUSES that cxcitc the various trains of 
 thought in the mind. We must not only notice 
 and know what is passing within us, but it is of vital 
 importance also to ascertain and understand the 
 causes that excite our trains of thought. If the phy- 
 sician does not discover and understand the imme- 
 diate exciting cause of disease, how can he intelli- 
 gently prescribe or perform a cure ? And if we will 
 not reflect and examine ourselves, and make an effort 
 to ascertain and understand the causes that excite 
 our trains of thought — if we remain wholly ignorant 
 
SERMON VIII. 175 
 
 of the way In which thoughts arise in the mind, and 
 of what influences to one kind of thoughts or another, 
 how is it possible for us to engage intelligently in 
 the solemn imperious duty of '^ bringing every 
 thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ?" 
 If thoughts do not arise arbitrarily or by chance — 
 if there are causes both without and within the mind 
 itself that excite trains of thought and influence their 
 currents, then it is an obvious suggestion of common 
 sense that we should know and understand those 
 causes, if we would successfully govern our thoughts. 
 And yet, amongst the multitude of professors of re- 
 ligion at present, how many may we suppose are 
 seriously engaged each day in watching the work- 
 ings of their own minds, striving in the fear of God, 
 and as for the life of their souls, to find out those 
 causes that excite and influence their thoughts, in 
 order that they may direct their efibrts there to mo- 
 dify and control the very source and origin of 
 thinking ? Without this, a proper government of 
 the thoughts is impossible. For when thoughts are 
 once ill the mind, they cannot be banished by a 
 wish or by a mere act of the will. The very at- 
 tempt directly to will them out of the mind would 
 keep them there; — for in order that any thing should 
 be the object of volition, it must be present to the 
 mind, or, in other words, we must think of it. A 
 great, if not the most important part in the govern- 
 ment of the thoughts, consists in efibrts at preven- 
 tion, which is always better than cure. Now, in 
 order to prevent any thing from taking place either 
 in the series of our thoughts or of events in the 
 world around us, we must know and remove the 
 
176 SERMON viir. 
 
 cause or causes adapted to produce it. I may en- 
 counter the charge here of preaching metaphysics, 
 and of wishing to make my hearers mental philoso- 
 phers, and of putting them on the vain effort to un- 
 derstand the laws of mind by which our trains of 
 thought are regulated. This would be to make them 
 metaphysicians. One thing I would to God I could 
 make all my dear hearers — that is, intelligent, think- 
 ing, consistent disciples of that holy Jesus, who, on 
 one occasion, taught the Jews that they could com- 
 mit a most criminal act in their secret thoughts, the 
 exciting cause of which was the use which they 
 made of the outward bodily eye! All persons, I 
 am aware, cannot become subtle metaphysicians, and 
 understand the intricate and mysterious laws and 
 susceptibilities of mind. But all Christians may 
 and ought, by the help of God, in the use of appro- 
 priate means, to discover and understand the prin- 
 cipal causes that excite and influence their thoughts 
 in a right or wrong direction. If they cannot, then 
 it is certain that they can never govern their 
 thoughts, and the "weapons" which God has fur- 
 nished as a part of his whole armour to bring them 
 " into captivity," are superfluous. Who is prepared 
 to make such an admission ? No; let the most plain, 
 unlettered Christian, in a docile spirit, conscien- 
 tiously set about the work of "keeping his own 
 heart with all diligence " watching, guarding his 
 thoughts under the conviction that God sees them 
 all — let him keep a vigilant eye on his trains of 
 thought, tracing them back and trying to ascertain 
 how they first came into his mind, and he will soon 
 become acquainted with the causes that excited 
 
SERMON VIII. 177 
 
 them. It will require no metaphysical acumen for 
 one to discover that companionship is an exciting 
 cause of trains of thought: — that the language, the 
 manners, tlie spirit, the entire character of those 
 with whom he associates, not only influence his 
 mind whilst he is with them, but prove ccmses of 
 awakening trains of thought long after he is sepa- 
 rated from them. The same is true in reference to 
 the course of i^eading he pursues. Books, as well 
 as companions, may become powerful and all-con- 
 trolling causes in exciting and directing the current 
 of our thoughts. What long trains of musing — 
 what criminal imaginings, — what wild and lawless 
 thinking is produced in the mind of the wretched 
 novel reader, long after he has perused and thrown 
 aside the favourite volume. It requires no profound 
 knowledge of mental philosophy to ascertain and 
 understand this. Certain places, too, become the 
 exciting causes of trains of thought. Let a man visit 
 the theatre and the ball-room, to say nothing of their 
 affiliated localities and indulgences, and long after 
 the tragedy or comedy is over, and the curtain dropt 
 in the one, and the music has been hushed and the 
 dance ceased in the other, the sight or even the re- 
 membrance of those places will put in motion again 
 those waves of tumultuous thought and high-wrought 
 emotion that were originally excited there. The 
 plainest mind can assuredly be made to understand 
 this. Nor will it require much effort for any one 
 to learn also that the state of the affections, — the 
 prevailing temper of the heart, — greatly influences 
 our habits of thinking. Its tastes and preferences, 
 its likes and dislikes, its governing purpose will not 
 
178 SERMON VIII. 
 
 only excite trains of thought, but give character and 
 direction to them at will. And may not a Christian 
 of the most common capacity readily discover that 
 all our bodily senses may be so used as to prove 
 the occasions, if not the exciting causes, of right or 
 wrong trains of thought in the mind. The eye may 
 be fixed on sights, the ear opened to sounds, the pa- 
 late addressed by tastes, the scent with artful odours, 
 and the touch with soft blandishments, which will 
 lay the foundation for long trains of thought, after 
 the impression on these outward senses has been ob- 
 literated. Yea, the bodily state itself — the mere 
 condition of the vital functions — often proves the 
 exciting cause of certain trains of thought. In proof 
 of this, you have only to notice the facts in the his- 
 tory of the pampered, luxurious sensualist. In con- 
 tact with one of these creatures once, on board a 
 packet ship, and though he was an educated, profes- 
 sional man, I was forced to observe that his princi- 
 pal conversation, for seven days in succession, was 
 on the subject of the good fare — the fine eating — 
 that could be obtained in hotels in different parts of 
 the United States ! It is easy to understand what 
 was the exciting cause of this train of thought in his 
 mind — the influence of a certain state of the body, 
 or of certain corporeal impressions. Now, without 
 a knowledge of their various exciting causes, how is 
 any man to govern his thoughts ? How can he em- 
 ploy means or use " weapons " adapted to this end ? 
 How can you cut ofTand dry up streams, if you leave 
 their fountain heads untouched and overflowing? 
 
 III. Another thing now obviously included in 
 governing our thoughts is — a constant watchful- 
 
SERMON VIII. 179 
 
 ness to avoid or remove those causes that excite 
 improper and sinful trains of thought. 
 
 When an individual has reflected on and exa- 
 mined the operations of his own mind, suiTiciently to 
 ascertain hoiv it is that certain currents of tliought 
 flow on there — when he understands the exciting 
 causes of his thoughts, he must needs make tlic dis- 
 covery that there are some causes that originate 
 only improper and sinful W\ou^-\\.s — causes that ex- 
 cite thoughts which rebel against conscience, and 
 are contrary to the law of God, and the precepts of 
 the Gospel. Now the least that can be included in 
 the right government of the thoughts, is a constant 
 watchfulness to avoid or remove these causes. To 
 wait till trains of improper thoughts are actually in 
 the mind, and for the first to join battle with them 
 there, is, to say the least, running an imminent risk of 
 being defeated in the struggle. It is like waiting 
 till the foe is within the walls of the city, nay, in 
 the very citadel, before we attack and attempt to 
 repulse him. One of the methods of successful de- 
 fence in literal warfare, is to prevent by ditches and 
 embankments the approach and entrance of the 
 enemy. And, as I have already incidentally re- 
 marked, one of the greatest facilities of governing 
 the thoughts is the art of prevention. It is a 
 law of the mind, that a wrong thought permitted to 
 enter and lodge once, lays a foundation for its re- 
 currence, and for a more easy entrance and lodge- 
 ment there a second time. Besides, avoiding the 
 exciting causes of wrong trains of thought, is the 
 only way by which we can avoid establishing those 
 habits of association or suggestion of thought that 
 
180 SERMON VIII. 
 
 will, from their very nature, bring improper thoughts 
 into the mind. I think this can be made obvious 
 to those of you who have never studied mental phi- 
 losophy. As an illustration, plain and coarse in- 
 deed, let me ask why it is that even at a distance 
 the very sight of the sign-post of the tavern or dram- 
 shop will bring into the mind of the drunkard 
 thoughts of the pleasures of indulgence in his beastly 
 vice — thoughts of the merriment, of the companion- 
 ship and carousals of the bar-room, till his whole 
 mind is filled with the riotous scene, and he is fired 
 with the unconquerable thirst for strong drink? 
 The answer is obvious; he has established associa- 
 tions hy going there and indulging his appetite — by 
 not avoiding it, — and now the sight of that place, 
 by an irresistible law of his mind, must and will 
 bring with it this abominable train of thought. 
 This is what we mean by the great law of associa- 
 tion or suggestion of thought. To illustrate this 
 farther, let me ask why it is that, to the man who 
 has always avoided the place of the drunkard's re- 
 sort, and refused the bewitching bowl, the sight of 
 the very same sign-post of a tavern or dram-shop 
 will awaken a wholly opposite train of thought? 
 It fills his mind with revolting — associates the cri- 
 minal mirth and revelry — the disgusting orgies of 
 drunkenness — the wrecks of property and reputa- 
 tion — the crime and misery, — the desolation and 
 death that are enacted there, and he is filled with 
 benevolent regret and sorrow. Now this is the law 
 of association or suggestion of thought too, — but of 
 right thought in this case. How then does this 
 man establish these associations so totally different 
 
SERMON viir. 181 
 
 from those just considered? Simply by avoiding 
 that place and its accursed indulgences as an ex- 
 citing cause of ?dJrono- trains of thought, and as the 
 spot where habits of associating such thoughts are 
 formed. The habit, then, of association or sugges- 
 tion of right or wrong trains of thought takes its 
 rise — begins with the exciting causes of those 
 thoughts. Let no one, therefore, deceive himself 
 with the vain hope that he can ever prevent the oc- 
 currence and lodgement of improper thoughts in 
 his mind unless with eagle eye he watches and 
 AVOIDS their exciting causes. No small part of the 
 principal self-denial and watchfulness which the 
 Lord Jesus has enjoined on his disciples has refer- 
 ence to this very point. Happy is the man who 
 with a divine earnestness and sleepless vigilance 
 avoids all known exciting causes of improper and 
 sinful thoughts. 
 
 lY. Alike obviously included in the right govern- 
 ment of our thoughts is — a constant watchfulness 
 to avail ourselves of the influence of those causes 
 that excite proper and holy trains of thought. 
 A good government over our wayward and rebel- 
 lious thoughts, as already intimated, cannot be esta- 
 blished by an idle wish or a mere arbitrary act of 
 the will. We must ivisely adopt and watchfully 
 apply the means suited to secure this end. There 
 are "weapons" to be used, if we would ever bring 
 our thoughts "into captivity." We may not ex- 
 pect good trains of tliought to occupy the mind by 
 chance^ or that bad ones will remain out of it on the 
 same condition. We must go back and keep an ob- 
 servant, discriminating eye on those causes that ex- 
 16 
 
183 SEBMON VIII. 
 
 cite holy trains of thought and avail ourselves of 
 their influence, according to those laws that regulate 
 our thinking. It is comparatively easy to navigate 
 a large ship, and " turn it whithersoever the governor 
 Jlisteth," by the use of sails and a helm, because in 
 that case you fall in with and take advantage of cer- 
 tain natural laws that pertain to the atmosphere and 
 the water. So, by divine help, the thoughts can be 
 well governed, if you begin aright, avail yourself of 
 the operation of appropriate causes, and fall in with 
 the laws by which thought is to be controlled. The 
 man who sets himself about this work in this way 
 will soon discover what causes excite proper trains 
 of thought, and by the influence of which he may 
 be materially aided in ruling over his own busy, 
 thinking spirit. He will find that holy companion- 
 ship is an exciting cause of holy thoughts, just as 
 wicked companionship is the opposite. The senti- 
 ments, the language, the communion of saints — their 
 manners, character and pious spirit, will not only in- 
 fluence his mind while in contact with them, but 
 will also lay the foundation of long and profitable 
 trains of thought, after he is parted from their so- 
 ciety, even by intervening oceans and continents. 
 The man, then, who would be successful in govern- 
 ing his thoughts, will avail himself of the operation 
 of this cause, and be very careful whom he selects 
 as companions, and how he spends his social hours. 
 He will discover too, that the perusal of pious 
 authors as well as the right kind of society, proves 
 an exciting cause of proper trains of thought. To 
 the man who would succeed in governing well his 
 own thoughts, his selection and familiarity with 
 
SERMON viir. 183 
 
 authors, is a matter of unspeakable moment. In 
 their influence on the mind, for good or for evil, 
 books have one advantage, even over conversation 
 and companionship. They are our companions in 
 solitude, when impressions made on the mind are 
 always deepest, because there is no fear that the 
 book will suspect, as a living companion might, from 
 the expression of the countenance, what is going on 
 within, and, therefore, the mind of the reader yields 
 itself moreundividedly to theentire impression. How 
 many awakened sinners have wept and groaned in 
 agony, when reading " Baxter's Call," or " Alleine's 
 Alarm," in secret, who would have braced them- 
 selves up on the defensive, and had no such depth 
 and intensity of thought and feeling, had the very 
 same thoughts been addressed to them in conver- 
 sation by pious companions. And how many a 
 modern belle, shut up in her own room, with the 
 curtains of midnight drawn around her, has read pa- 
 ragraphs of novels, no approach to which would 
 dare be uttered in her presence by the living voice, 
 and which have excited deep and agitating trains of 
 thought that she would fear to entertain for a mo- 
 ment, wxre her countenance subjected to the inspec- 
 tion of others. Now, this is what gives to books 
 so decisive and controlling a power over the current 
 of our thoughts. They have the advantage of ope- 
 rating in silence and solitude, when the mind is 
 least distracted, and most unsuspecting and open to 
 impressions. The man, then, who would govern 
 his thoughts aright, must exercise great caution and 
 wisdom in his course of reading, and avail himself 
 of the best books as powerful exciting causes of vir- 
 
184 SERMON viir. 
 
 tuous trains of thought. What currents of deep and 
 holy thought, what a gush of pious and exalted emo- 
 tion have Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Reli- 
 gion in the Soul, Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest, 
 Howe's Blessedness of the Righteous, Payson's Me- 
 moirs, and similar books, excited in the mind, and 
 impelled with a widening and majestic flow long 
 after these volumes have been perused and laid 
 aside! And what shall we say of that book of 
 books, the Bible? God^s book to man, speaking 
 in man's own language to his inmost soul — proving 
 a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart 
 — suited to every peculiarity in the constitution of 
 the human mind — a universal language or gram- 
 mar of thought, like the sky, and sun, and stars, 
 whose "line is gone out into all the earth, and their 
 words to the ends of the world!" This is pre-emi- 
 nently the great master exciting cause of right 
 trains of thought. The infinite perfections of Je- 
 hovah which it reveals — the doctrine of his omni- 
 science and omnipresence — his scheme of provi- 
 dence and his stupendous plan of love and mercy 
 through Christ Jesus — the wonders and glories, the 
 infinite sorrows, and the immortal triumphs of the 
 cross — the rules of man's action, with their eternal 
 sanctions — the hell that he is to avoid, and the hea- 
 ven he is to win — the spiritual struggles and throes 
 — the sublime conflict and agony that this will in- 
 volve, and the splendid rewards of victory — these 
 are some of the exciting themes of thought con- 
 tained in the Bible! In a^ressing the taste or ima- 
 gination, what sun-lit scenery, what forms of uni- 
 versal beauty and of deep repose does the Bible 
 
SERMON vrir. 185 
 
 picture in the landscape of the celestial world! To 
 the capacity of boundless hope in man what "dura- 
 ble riches and righteousness" — what an incorrupti- 
 ble inheritance — what an unfading crown and impe- 
 rishable kingdom "eternal in the heavens" does 
 the Bible disclose! This blessed book, from the 
 very nature of its grave and august revelations, must 
 ever exert a commanding influence over all the moral 
 susceptibilities of the mind, and give character and 
 direction to the currents of its thoughts. The dili- 
 gent, humble, prayerful student of the Bible will 
 find that, by its aid, the great and difficult work of 
 governing his thoughts can be effected. It may 
 be remarked, in this connexion, that the habit of 
 committing to memory a verse or two of scripture 
 every morning, as a means of influencing our trains 
 of thought through the day, cannot be too highly 
 commended. A portion of the holy oracles thus 
 treasured in the mind will not only give direction 
 to the current of our thoughts during that single 
 day on which it is committed, but will prove the 
 prolific seed of thoughts in many subsequent years 
 of life. The speaker can now recall distinctly, after 
 the lapse of thirty years, the verses of the scrip- 
 tures which he committed to memory on this plan. 
 The power of association even recalls the very sun- 
 shine and dews, the flowers and balmy air of the 
 beautiful morning of a long-gone spring, when he 
 committed the following text, never since forgot- 
 ten: — " The eyes of the Lord are in every 2^l<^ce, 
 beholding the evil and the good.^^ The duty that 
 we are now explaining imperiously requires a daily, 
 prayerful perusal of the Bible, as the great exciting 
 16* 
 
1S6 SERMON VIII. 
 
 cause of tight trains of thought, and as an indispen- 
 sable means of successful rule over our spirits. 
 
 But certain places also are exciting causes of 
 right as well as of wrong trains of thought. To the 
 man who devoutly attends them, the sanctuary and 
 the more familiar places of social worship, excite 
 many a sweet remembrance, many a long, pleasing, 
 profitable train of thought after the voice of prayer 
 and praise has ceased there — the holy services and 
 solemnities have ended, and he is again engaged in 
 the ordinary occupations of life. A diligent, punc- 
 tual, and devout attendance on all the ordinances and 
 observances of religion, will furnish a multitude of 
 facilities for the government of the thoughts, whilst 
 an irregular attendance or a neglect of many of 
 these ordinances will ensure a worldly mind whose 
 occasional struggles at self-government must neces- 
 sarily prove unsuccessful. 
 
 Certain seasons too are the exciting causes of 
 proper trains of thought. When a man has learned 
 to keep the Sabbath holy — when he has estab- 
 lished and carefully observed definite hours for se- 
 cret prayer and meditation, the recurrence of these 
 periods by a law of his mind will awaken solemn 
 and delightful associations. Many a Christian in 
 the midst of a crowd of noisy passengers in a public 
 conveyance, at the approach of the particular hour 
 of the morning or the evening, which at home he is 
 accustomed to spend in secret devotion, finds his 
 mind sweetly turned to thoughts of God and divine 
 things, and, amidst all the external confusion, actu- 
 ally engages in silent, ejaculatory prayer. The man 
 who would successfully govern his thoughts, must 
 
SERMON VIII. 1S7 
 
 not only avail himself of the Sabbath, which recurs 
 once in seven days, but he must establish and ob- 
 serve definite hours in every day for his secret de- 
 votion, whose recurrence shall prove powerful, ex- 
 citing causes of right trains of thought. 
 
 It may be added here that certain actions, also, 
 while they spring from right thought, wijl, in turn, 
 prove the fruitful sources of profitable thinking. 
 Your visits of mercy to the abodes of poverty — to 
 the chamber of sickness and the bed of death — your 
 sympathies, prayers, and aid there — your efforts to 
 promote the edification of Christian brethren, and 
 to convert the sinner from the error of his way — 
 your liberal contributions to sustain the gospel at 
 home and send it to the destitute abroad, are acts 
 in their very nature adapted to become the exciting 
 causes of numerous happy trains of thought long 
 after you shall have performed them. Will not 
 memory revisit those hovels of distress, recall the 
 picture of their want and desolation, awaken your 
 sympathies, and prompt your prayers in behalf of 
 their still surviving tenants? Will you not think 
 again of that Christian brother whom you have 
 exhorted and warned, and pray anew that your ef- 
 fort for his benefit may be successful? Will not 
 the perishing sinner, whom you plead with to be 
 reconciled to God, claim many a thought, many a 
 prayer after your first, and, it may be, your only 
 interview with him? And will not hope, prayer, 
 and expectation follow your liberal contributions to 
 spread the gospel, long after your offering has been 
 made to the treasury of the Lord ? Be assured, my 
 dear hearers, that one of the greatest facilities of go- 
 
188 SERMON VHI. 
 
 verning the thoughts is to he constantly employed 
 in beneficent action. Every right act will not only 
 constitute in the mind a starting, but a multiply- 
 ing point of right trains of thought. In this con- 
 nexion, also, and of vital importance in the govern- 
 ment of our thoughts, let me warn you against 
 sloth diVidt. ' indolence. Beware of those hours in 
 which you propose nothing definite to be thought 
 of or to be done. Your mind, in its very nature, is 
 essentially active. If, then, you have intervals in 
 which you are neither watching against the exciting 
 causes of improper thought, nor availing yourself of 
 the means of right and profitable mental activity — 
 in which you are neither guarding the exercise of 
 your bodily senses, nor aiming in any way to fur- 
 nish your mind with some definite and proper em- 
 ployment — rest assured that, in such Intervals, your 
 busy powers will have employment: but it may be 
 just of such a kind as " the world, the flesh, and the 
 devil" will delight to furnish! There is a deep 
 significancy, attested by the bitter experience of 
 thousands. In that quaint saying that " an empty 
 brain is the deviVs work-shop^'' and that he always 
 finds something for idle hands to do. 
 
 V. The right government of our thoughts im- 
 plies that we aim at universality in this matter; 
 at the government of all our thoughts. That 
 would be a badly governed province where any 
 number of the subjects, even the most remote, ob- 
 scure, and apparently worthless, were permitted to 
 live in anarchy, violate the laws, and rebel against 
 the constituted authorities with impunity. An ad- 
 ministration that would wholly neglect to take cog- 
 
SERMON VIII. 189 
 
 nizance of sucli outlaws — that would neither attempt 
 to bring them to submission and obedience, nor to 
 punish them for their rebellion — might expect tlie 
 contagion of tiieir example to spread, and involve 
 such multitudes as would soon subvert all govern- 
 ment. This fact, in all its force, may be transferred 
 from the policy of states to the government of the 
 thoughts, and find in the latter a most striking veri- 
 fication. Any attempt to give up the reins, and in- 
 dulge certain trains of thought, while we flatter our- 
 selves that we curb and control others, will soon 
 utterly destroy so partial and feeble a government, 
 and leave the mind a hapless prey to anarchy. Be- 
 sides, God has not left it optional with us to select 
 that class of thoughts which we may regard as easi- 
 est and most agreeable to govern. His " law is ex- 
 ceeding broad:'' he will have the whole heart or 
 none. He will have us honestly attempt to govern 
 ALL, even our most secret thoughts, or he will leave 
 us to utter disappointment and failure in our partial 
 efforts. Aim to extend your government, then, as 
 far as He extends the claims of His law, and adopt 
 and regard that law as the divinely authorized stand- 
 ard of all true government of the thoughts. Aim at 
 a noble, sweeping universality, such as those mighty 
 weapons of your warfare which God has furnished 
 indicate that you are to struggle for and hope to at- 
 tain; for He will accept nothing less at your hands. 
 This may seem hard. You may halt and well 
 nigh faint in the great and prolonged effort neces- 
 sary to so universal a control over your capacities 
 of thought! But God will help you; God will 
 strengthen you; God will rouse you and inspire 
 
190 SERMON VIII. 
 
 you with fresh courage by speaking into your souls 
 the sublime motto — "bringing every thought into 
 captivity to the obedience of Christ." 
 
 VI. The duty of governing our thoughts neces- 
 sarily includes a deep practical conviction that it 
 is an ARDUOUS, a mighty work. A moment of 
 consideration will show you how necessary is such 
 a conviction to the successful government of your 
 thoughts. The fact is familiar to us all, that we put 
 forth efforts and apply a power in exact proportion 
 to our views of the magnitude and difficulty of the 
 work to be done. As an instance, if we have a 
 wrong estimate of the actual weight of a beam of 
 timber or a block of granite, which we wish to raise 
 and place in a building — if we regard it as much 
 lighter than it really is — we shall certainly fail in 
 our first efforts by applying a less degree of power 
 than is necessary to effect this work. And the only 
 way in which we can ever effect it is by having a 
 Just estimate of the actual weight, and then putting 
 forth efforts and applying a power proportionate. 
 Now, this principle is just as applicable to moral as 
 to physical or mechanical enterprise; as applicable 
 to the government of the thoughts as to the raising 
 a beam of timber or a block of granite to the top of 
 a building. A wrong estimate — an undervaluation 
 of the real difficulty and mightiness of the work, 
 will render all attempts at governing the thoughts 
 unsuccessful. It may be repeated, then, that this 
 duty necessarily includes a deep, practical convic- 
 tion that it is a great, a most arduous work. And, 
 from what has already been said, this must now ap- 
 pear an obvious and indubitable truth. The govern- 
 
SERMON VIII. 191 
 
 ment of the thoughts, to minds environed by the 
 thraldom of the apostacy, is no trivial task. Their 
 very ninnher is appalling — running on, in our 
 waking hours, in one continuous stream, and suc- 
 ceeding each other with the celerity of lightning. 
 The busy, active soul, throwing out a thought at 
 every moment, in the twinkling of an eye, and we 
 required to watch and give directions to them, to 
 sway and control them all as God demands them to 
 be governed! Then reflect on the subtle nature of 
 thought; how it originates in that purely spiritual 
 part of our nature which is wrapt in so much mys- 
 tery, of which none of the senses can take cogni- 
 zance, and into the depths of which few, if any, have 
 the power to penetrate — how silently^ how secretly 
 thought after thought arises there ! How faint is 
 our own consciousness, frequently, of their number 
 and character as they occur! How soon some of 
 them seem to vanish, and are utterly forgotten by 
 us, but not by that Omniscience which sees even 
 our secret thoughts afar off! Take into the ac- 
 count, also, what a world of turmoil and confusion 
 there is without, to divert our attention from " the 
 hidden man of the heart," in all his busy thinking. 
 All our senses constantly addressed by external 
 things — the bustle and competitions, the noise and 
 tumult of ordinary pursuits, to distract us and drown 
 reflection — perpetual sights meeting the eye, and 
 perpetual sounds addressed to the ear, to blind us to 
 the dim form and deafen us to the still, small voice 
 of that multitude of thoughts going on secretly 
 within, which God requires us to govern. And 
 then there is another, and a still more formidable 
 
192 SERMON VIII. 
 
 difficulty, the dreadful bias of the fallen mind — the 
 natural, deep-rooted dislike which it has to have its 
 thoughts brought into the obedience which this go- 
 vernment demands. The remains of that " natural 
 man that receiveth not the things of the Spirit " are 
 still here to seduce the thoughts from their alle- 
 giance and foment rebellion. A part of that carnal 
 mind, which does not like to retain God in its 
 thoughts, is here with its old aversion. A part of 
 those affections that were once set exclusively upon 
 things on the earth, still cling and send clusters of 
 thoughts to these forbidden objects. All the pas- 
 sions and appetites of the flesh war against the right 
 government of the thoughts. Superadded to all 
 these, we have also the temptations, the wiles, the 
 power and malicious policy of a mighty fallen spi- 
 rit, who doubtless has modes of access to our minds, 
 and means of influencing our trains of thought for 
 evil, of which we can form no adequate conception. 
 And now, with all this fearful array of difficulties, 
 contemplate for a moment the kind of government 
 we are to exercise over our thoughts. It is a uni- 
 versal government, from which no thought, or trains 
 of thought, can be excused or excluded. The funda- 
 mental law is, " bring every thought into captivi- 
 ty?^ But, to what standard of obedience is every 
 thought to be brought? "Bringing every thought 
 into captivity to the obedience of Christ.'^ What 
 a high, spiritual, holy government! What a stand- 
 ard of obedience! What a control and victory over 
 mind are here involved! What work for an angel! 
 To learn to think only for Christ; to subject the 
 active energies of the immortal mind to the law of 
 
SERMON VIII. 193 
 
 his love; to take captive every stealthy, secret 
 thought ere it escapes, and bring it into sweet obe- 
 dience to him; to live on through life with the en- 
 tire currents of the thinkijig soul controlled and 
 made to flow submissively at his feet, is a work 
 more difficult, more mighty — involving greater con- 
 flicts, severer self-denials, deeper sorrows, and more 
 sublime triumphs than any work ever performed in 
 our world, save that of the great atonement! He 
 that would successfully perform this work, then, 
 must bear about with him the undying conviction, 
 that such is its intrinsic magnitude and mightiness 
 that it will call for more than the undivided ener- 
 gies of his whole being! And hence I remark, 
 
 Lastly. That the duty indicated in the text im- 
 plies that we earnestly seek and humbly depend 
 on the influences of the Holy Spirit to control 
 our thoughts. When we contemplate the intrinsic 
 delicacy, difficulty, and magnitude of this work, and 
 the tremendous organized opposition of the world 
 and the devil from without, making a league and 
 alliance with remaining corruptions within the mind 
 itself, and these combined forces constantly at work 
 to excite the thoughts to rebel, -our frail nature 
 shrinks back appalled, and we despairingly exclaim, 
 *'Who is sufficient for these things?" — who can 
 bring " every thought into captivity to the obe- 
 dience of Christ?'^ And when we hear even in- 
 spired apostles mournfully affirming, ^^ ive are not 
 sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of 
 ourselves," we have to take refuge from our an- 
 guish and despondency just where those apostles 
 did from theirs—^' but our sufficiency is of 
 17 
 
194 SERMON VIII. 
 
 God." Till we learn this, and live by faith on the 
 omnipotent all-sufficiency of God, the Holy Ghost, 
 we have not learned the first lesson in our success- 
 ful government of the thoughts. Our efficient help 
 is in the Lord God of Hosts alone. It is by a pray- 
 erful seeking of the Holy Spirit, and by an humble, 
 gracious confidence in his influence to control our 
 thoughts, that we connect ourselves with the only 
 power in the universe that has a supreme and abso- 
 lute command over the whole empire of thought. 
 The Holy Ghost alone hath such a command. He 
 is " the Father of our spirits." He made man, and 
 knows what is in him. The human mind, with all 
 its secret springs, its wondrous susceptibilities, and 
 its facilities of thought, is a perfect transparency, 
 always "naked and open" to the gaze of the Spi- 
 rit's omniscience. So all the causes, from without 
 or from within, that act upon the mind, are not only 
 intuitively seen by the Holy Spirit, but are under 
 his immediate and absolute control. What infinite 
 resources and facilities of access to the mind, and of 
 influencing its trains of thought, must He possess! 
 The aid of this almighty, all-wise agent — this best, 
 greatest ascension gift of our glorified, reigning Re- 
 deemer — is just what we need to enable us to bring 
 " every thought into captivity to the obedience of 
 Christ." This is the gift, too, which God is more 
 willing to bestow than are parents to give bread to 
 their children. And He is willing to dwell in us, 
 and efiect this great work. The Holy Spirit is infi- 
 nitely benevolent, and takes a most deep and sym- 
 pathizing interest in the difficult and mighty task of 
 governing our thoughts. He will smile upon us, 
 
SERMON VIII. 195 
 
 and afford us his almighty aid in the feeblest effort 
 sincerely made to perform this arduous, this stupen- 
 dous work. It is His office to "search all things, 
 yea, the deep things of God," and reveal them to us; 
 to take of the things of Christ and show them to us, 
 and to bring to our remembrance whatsoever Christ 
 hath said as the objects or exciting causes of holy 
 trains of thought. To urge you, then, to seek the 
 Holy Spirit, and to inspire you with an unshaken 
 confidence in His absolute control over our thoughts, 
 let me remind you how irresistibly he influences 
 the convicted sinner's mind. In that case there 
 is all the enmity of the carnal mind warring, with 
 newly roused energy, against every right thought; 
 there is all the power of cherished, fortified wrong 
 habits of thought; there are the pleadings of all the 
 depraved passions and appetites of his fallen nature, 
 that he would dismiss every serious thought; there 
 is his own voluntary and desperate resolve to shake 
 off all his religious impressions; and there are all 
 the dreadful means he uses to fulfil this resolve — 
 wicked company, light reading, neglect of prayer 
 and the Bible, plunging into noisy pleasures, and a 
 thousand other expedients to drown thought and 
 banish reflection, and yet the Holy Spirit, with in- 
 finite ease, keeps conviction fastened and rankling 
 in that mind; keeps its thoughts on itself — on its 
 guilt and ruin — on its imminent danger — on its ne- 
 glected Saviour — on its angry God — on a hastening 
 judgment and a hopeless eternity, till that mind, 
 worn out with the fruitless struggle to banish its se- 
 rious thoughts, submits to Christ and is saved. 
 Now, what cannot that Spirit effect for the be- 
 
196 SERMON VIII. 
 
 lieving soul that seeks his aid, and humbly depends 
 on his influence to enable it to govern its thoughts 
 aright? Oh, seek Him with all the heart! — confide 
 in Him — yield your whole soul to His divine con- 
 trol — live perpetually in His presence, and that pre- 
 sence will form a wall of fire to guard every avenue 
 to your minds from the intrusion of unprofitable 
 thoughts, while His divine teachings and His direct 
 influences will awaken a ceaseless succession of holy 
 thoughts that will go on " as wave on wave in still 
 seas when storms are laid," till every one shall be 
 brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, 
 and laid^ as the soul's willing offering, at his feet 
 
SERMON IX. 197 
 
 SERMON IX 
 
 " Bringing every thought into captivity unto the obedience of Christ." 
 
 2 COKINTHIANS, X. 5. 
 
 In the plan of treating this subject, it will be re- 
 collected, that two general propositions were de- 
 duced from the text, — 1. To inquire what is im- 
 plied or included in the duty of governing the 
 thoughts, and, — 2. To present some considerations 
 to enforce this duty. The discussion in the pre- 
 ceding discourse, has been confined exclusively to 
 the first of these propositions. The propriety and 
 importance of*exhibiting its nature, of explaining, 
 and clearly defining, the great duty of governing the 
 thoughts, in order to urge the performance of it, 
 must be obvious. How can we successfully perform, 
 or even intelligently attempt, a duty not clearly 
 seen and understood. A duty that lies in hazy in- 
 distinctness, as undefined as vague forms of mist, or, 
 as the Spirit that presented itself to Job in a dream, 
 no man ever did, or ever will, make a serious effort 
 to perform. Nor, indeed, is it possible, in the na- 
 ture of the case, that such an effort should be made; 
 for it is definite and intelligible objects only, that 
 excite the mind to action. And hence, the religious 
 teacher, who attempts by fervid declamation, and 
 pathetic anecdote, to enforce duties which he never 
 defines and explains, and which his hearers do not 
 17* 
 
198 SERMON IX. 
 
 clearly comprehend, acts a}30ut as wisely, and will 
 be about as successful, as the man who would invert 
 the order of building, and attempt to commence his 
 edifice at the top, and work downward, finishing at 
 the foundation; with this difference, however, that 
 the great law of terrestrial gravitation would bring 
 the crazy architect, together with his materials, 
 speedily down to the ground in promiscuous con- 
 fusion, and in all probability, cure him of his folly, 
 and prevent a second like attempt; while there is 
 no such law of moral gravitation, to hurl the spiri- 
 tual builder down from the heights of his folly and 
 fancy work. Having, then, my hearers, made an 
 honest, and earnest attempt to define, explain, and 
 render perfectly intelligible to you, the great duty 
 of governing the thoughts, may I not, now, unpre- 
 sumptuously look up to God for his aid and blessing, 
 and claim from you a serious attention, while I pre- 
 sent some considerations to enforce this duty? A 
 more important Christian duty could not well be 
 pressed on your notice, nor one, in the vigorous 
 performance of which, I could feel a more eager and 
 earnest desire to enlist you with your whole heart. 
 I. The^r^^ consideration which I would present 
 to enforce on you this duty, is, — that our thoughts 
 are a part of our moral account ability — we are 
 responsible for than, and will have to answer for 
 their government at the bar of God. Every 
 movement made by a nature so mysterious, so 
 active, so mighty, and so enduring as that of the 
 immortal mind, must involve great interests. That 
 mind is the offspring of God — holds the most en- 
 deared relations, and is bound to him by tender and 
 
SERMON IX. lyy 
 
 infinite obligations. Pie has placed it in this sunny 
 world of probation, mercy, and hope. On that mind, 
 God's love has bestowed the power of thouq/it as 
 its pre-eminent distinction. He has lavislicd Upon 
 it the splendid endowments of an intelligent, ra- 
 tional, immortal nature. Can He then require less 
 of it, than to render Him an account of the use which 
 it makes of «// the noble faculties of its being? — of 
 the total results of those divine gifts which he has 
 so munificently granted to it? Accountability for 
 our secret thoughts^ is a plain indubitable doctrine 
 of the Bible. God is to "judge the secrets of men's 
 hearts." The idea, that our outward acts as they 
 appear to the world, are to constitute the only items 
 in our final account, is utterly preposterous. The 
 entire workings of the busy spirit of man, here in 
 God's world, and under the schemes of providence 
 and grace, are to be developed and accounted for at 
 the judgment of the great day. Is not the mind 
 voluntary in all its thinking? Does not the quality 
 oi right or lurong attach to secret thoughts, as well 
 as those that are imbodied and brought to view in 
 sinful or holy actions? And, if so, what can be 
 more manifest, than that our thoughts are a part of 
 our moral and accoufitable doings, for which we 
 shall be juclged, and condemned, or acquitted at last. 
 Not only will our thoughts be a/^crr/, but by far the 
 greater part of our final accountability to God. Re- 
 flect for a moment, how small is the sum of what we 
 actually do, compared with what we think every 
 day. As to numbers, our actions dwindle into insig- 
 nificance, in comparison with " the multitude of our 
 thoughts within us." For every one of the latter, 
 
200 SERMON IX. 
 
 we shall give an account to God, in the day of judg- 
 ment. Our " secret sins will then be set in the 
 light of his countenance." 0! is it safe then, to 
 neglect the government of our thoughts ! — to leave 
 this great sphere of our accountable activity to be 
 filled at random, its movements unnoticed, un- 
 checked, and uncontrolled by us, when every one 
 of them is carrying its serious ulterior issue to the 
 tribunal of God! Every transient thought, though 
 utterly faded from memory, and long since lost to 
 the mind, the fires of the final day will bring out 
 again, legible to the universe, as characters traced 
 by invisible ink. Not one, of all the myriads that 
 have ever passed through the soul, will then escape 
 the scrutiny of God's eye, or the awards of his eter- 
 nal justice. what a consideration, to enforce on 
 you the duty of governing your thoughts. There 
 is truth as well as poetry in the caution: — 
 
 " Guard well your thoughts, 
 Your thoughts are heard in heaven.'* 
 
 Every moment they are sending reports from your 
 heart to the ear of God, and he is beseeching you 
 by the future terrors, and glories of eternal doom, 
 to " bring every thought into captivity to the obe- 
 dience of Christ." 
 
 II. A second consideration to enforce this duty 
 is, that the thoughts which you habitually cherish, 
 will exert a controlling influence informing your 
 moral character, and in shaping your course of 
 outward action. No one will doubt but that Solo- 
 mon had a deep practical knowledge of human na- 
 ture. Indeed, the accuracy and precision with 
 which he traces the operation of those causes that 
 
SERMON IX. 201 
 
 form moral character and influence outward action 
 is a striking peculiarity of his writings. Now, this 
 wisest of men, under the inspirations of the Holy 
 Spirit, has uttered it as a profound maxim in the 
 philosophy of human nature, that 'Uts a man think- 
 ETH IN HIS HEART, SO IS hc.^' Thc truth SO obvi- 
 ously disclosed in this maxim, is, that our thoughts, 
 even our 7nost secret thoughts, exert the control- 
 ling and decisive influence in forming our moral 
 character, and shaping our actions. This truth is 
 susceptible of satisfactory demonstration. Those of 
 you at all acquainted with the manner in which 
 mind is influenced, must be aware, that in order to 
 form it to any particular character, certain appro- 
 priate objects must be present to the mind. If no 
 such objects were within the cognizance of the mind 
 to arrest its attention, employ its activities, and in- 
 terest its afiections, they could not, in the nature of 
 the case, exert any influence whatever on its cha- 
 racter, their recognised presence being absolutely 
 necessary to such a result. Now, if objects of con- 
 templation must be before the mind in order to in- 
 fluence and form its character, then, the more con- 
 stantly and intimately they are present, the more 
 powerfully and decisively will they influence the 
 character and actions. But what objects can be so 
 constantly and so intimately present to the mind as 
 its own thoughts? That is a capital mistake of 
 some to suppose that outward circumstances mainly 
 form the character. A little reflection will con- 
 vince any one, tiiat the mind cannot be held in ac- 
 tual contact with any objects out of itself, except for 
 a comparatively short period. Without the power 
 
202 SERMON IX. 
 
 of remembering and thinking of objects after the 
 mind is separated from them, it is obvious that out- 
 ward circumstances would exert little, if any influ- 
 ence, on its character. Favourable or unfavourable 
 external circumstances, then, are to be sought or 
 avoided, not because they can possibly be kept so 
 constantly before the mind, as of themselves seri- 
 ously to influence its character, but because they are 
 the exciting causes of long and silent trains of right 
 or wrong thinking, prosecuted by the mind after 
 its separation, and at any distance from the external 
 objects. How manifest, then, must it be, that it is 
 the kind of thoughts habitually cherished by us, 
 that decides our moral character and actions. Re- 
 flect, for a moment, on the advantage which our 
 thoughts have over all other causes in forming our 
 character, and shaping our conduct. They are our 
 OWN thoughts, with the image and superscription of 
 ourselves upon them. They are no^i^-guests with 
 the mind, not strangers admitted with formality, 
 suspicion, and reserve. Nay, our thoughts are the 
 very kindred, the confidential household, and fa- 
 mily circle of the mind, dwelling with it in deep, 
 affectionate, secret intimacy. The closest privacy 
 is here, the mind yielding itself to the most unre- 
 stricted communion with its thoughts, without the 
 fear that its secrets will ever be betrayed to any 
 finite being. These thoughts go with it, sustain 
 their friendly, intimate, and confidential relations to 
 the mind wherever it goes. They form daily a lit- 
 tle internal world, and incessantly hold up their ob- 
 jects, bright or dark, pure or polluted, to the eye of 
 the soul. Now, with such advantages as these, must 
 
SERMON IX. 203 
 
 not our habitual trains of thought exert an imperi- 
 ous, an all-determining influence in forming our 
 moral character, and directing our course of action? 
 When, therefore, you see a man exhibiting the traits 
 of a lofty moral character, a stern integrity, an in- 
 flexible adherence to truth, a charity that suflereth 
 long and is kind, a serene, disinterested, diffusive 
 benevolence, that embraces the world as its sphere, 
 a Christ-like forgiveness of injuries, a conscience 
 faithful to the whole compass of Christian duty, and 
 a spirit of deep devotion to God, you may be assured 
 that such a character is not formed by chance, nor 
 by outward circumstances merely. It is the pro- 
 duct, the legitimate effect, of a strict government 
 over the thoughts. That man has experienced a 
 tremendous secret conflict in taking captive his 
 thoughts, and reducing them to obedience. He has 
 had his hours of retired meditation, by which he has 
 imbued his mind with the love of what is right and 
 true; he has had his seasons of silent, deep commu- 
 nion with his own heart, in which he has long and 
 patiently held up before it objects of benevolence, 
 pictures of the magnanimous grace of forgiveness of 
 injuries, the beauty of holiness, and the charms of 
 an unreserved and self-sacrificing consecration to 
 God, that all these might stamp on that heart inde- 
 libly their own bright images. And they have done 
 so, and been the principal means in the hands of 
 the Spirit in forming that exalted moral character 
 which he now exhibits. When such a man bursts 
 upon the world as a newly risen sun, blessing it 
 with a noble course of beneficent action, that is but 
 the legitimate consequence of the character to which 
 
204 SERMON IX. 
 
 his thoughts have formed him; for actions are but 
 the character imbodied and brought out visibly in 
 the life. This seems to be what the Saviour means, 
 when he says, "5?/ their fruits ye shall know them." 
 Therefore, when you see a man displaying a signally 
 depraved moral character, a want of principle, a 
 want of truth, a want of charity, a supreme selfish- 
 ness, intent only on his personal gratification, cost 
 what it may to all the world besides, an unforgiving, 
 revengeful, malicious temper, a reckless disregard 
 of all the duties of religion, of the interests of the 
 soul, and the claims of God, you may know with 
 certainty, that such a character has not been formed 
 by chance, but is the legitimate effect of a total 
 neglect to govern the thoughts. That man has si- 
 lently yielded, without a struggle, to trains of evil, 
 forbidden thought. He has had his hours of retired 
 meditation too, when he has cherished thoughts of 
 the seeming advantage of dishonesty and falsehood, 
 he has had his seasons of silent, deep communion 
 with his own heart, when he has held up before it 
 objects of supreme selfishness, and plans of personal 
 gratification, pictures of revenge, and murderous re- 
 taliation of injuries, the supposed advantages of free- 
 dom from the restraints of conscience, from religious 
 observances, from conviction of sin, and from the 
 claims of God, till all these have stamped indelibly 
 on his heart their own dark and polluted images. 
 And when such a man breaks on the world, breath- 
 ing blasting and mildew over society, and scatter- 
 ing firebrands, arrows, and death, in his disastrous 
 career, that is but the natural consequence of the 
 character to which his previous trains of thought 
 
SERMON IX. 205 
 
 have formed him. It has passed into a proverb, that 
 no man can become a consummate villain at once. 
 The mind must be first made familiar with vice in 
 its own retired secret thoughts. The wrong must 
 be silently revolved and cherished there, till it 
 blunts the sensibility of conscience, blinds the men- 
 tal eye, and warps the judgment, before the man 
 can have the courage to perpetrate it in overt act. 
 Now, my hearers, I trust you see how complete 
 and decisive an influence in forming your moral 
 character and directing your conduct, the kind of 
 thoughts you cherish will inevitably exert. By all 
 that is dreadful in a depraved character and vicious 
 life; and by all that is delightful in a holy character 
 and a virtuous life; by all the conscious innocence, 
 the self-respect, the pure imaginings, the holy com- 
 munion with objects of excellence, the high and so- 
 lemn self-control, and the extensive usefulness and 
 unlimited influence for good, of such a character and 
 life, God now warns and woos you to govern your 
 thoughts aright, to struggle in his strength to bring 
 every one into captivity unto the obedience of 
 Christ. 
 
 III. A strict government of your thoughts will 
 free you from the secret impulses of sinful pas- 
 sion, and thus fortify you against the power of 
 temptations from without. It is an erroneous sup- 
 position, that we escape the guilt and misery of 
 depraved passions by merely preventing them from 
 breaking forth in external action. Besides this 
 open sunny world, in which they meet with many 
 checks, these passions have a retired, curtained the- 
 atre, where they enact their secret scenes of lawless 
 18 
 
206 SERMON IX. 
 
 violence on our moral nature. "The hiddeo man 
 of the heart" is often agitated, preyed upon, and his 
 strength and beauty consumed by fires of sinful pas- 
 sions that do not burst forth, blaze around, and 
 blacken " the outer man/' Such fires are the more 
 consuming, from the very fact that they are con- 
 cealed and burn in the dark. Now, what supplies 
 the fuel to these intense volcanic flames within the 
 soul? Thought, wrong, VJUGOYERNEi) thought. No 
 passion of our nature can be excited and brought 
 into activity, till the mind first thinks of the ob- 
 ject of that passion, forms distinct conceptions of it, 
 dwells on those conceptions, and holds up exagge- 
 rated views of the pleasures of indulgence. Such a 
 process of thinking must, by a necessary law of our 
 being, jorecec?e the awakening and action of the pas- 
 sions. The trains that form this process of think- 
 ing, are the exciting causes of the activity of the 
 passions. And as certainly as such trains of thought 
 are permitted to enter and lodge in the mind, they 
 will arouse and give maddening energy to the pas- 
 sions. It is wrong thought that kindles " the 
 world of iniquity" within the depraved mind, and 
 supplies fuel to the smothered flames of hell that rage 
 there ! Would you, my hearers, be freed from their 
 consuming glow? Govern well your thoughts. 
 But one thing can secure you from the secret agita- 
 tion, the turmoil, the anarchy and fiery impulses of 
 sinful passions. There is but one sovereign remedy 
 against the violence, war, and sweeping havoc, 
 which they will make on your inward peace, and 
 God himself in mercy has prescribed that — '^ bring- 
 ing every thought into captivity unto the obedi- 
 
SERMON IX. 207 
 
 ence of C/irist.^^ When you have Icnrncd to do 
 tliis, then, and not till then, may you bid a stern 
 defiance to the storms of secret sinful passions, and 
 }'Our "minds have heaven and peace within/' 
 
 But I have remarked, that such a government of 
 the thoughts will dAsoforiifi/ you against the poiu- 
 er of temptations from loithout. The method by 
 which it will effect this, is obviously inferable from 
 what has just been said. For, if the right govern- 
 ment of the thoughts prevent the existence and ac- 
 tion of sinful passions within the soul, then, you 
 perceive, that it removes the very materials on 
 which outward temptations operate. It is an as- 
 sumption as false, as it is common, that when an in- 
 dividual yields and falls into sin, the sole cause of 
 his fall consists in the mere force of the outward 
 temptation. Now, man is no such "creature of cir- 
 cumstances" as this would make him to be. He is 
 no such passive victim of a resistless necessity. The 
 voluntary, prevailing trains of thought, the state of 
 the mind itself, give to or take away from external 
 temptations all their power. In proof of this, we 
 need only advert to the unquestionable fact, that the 
 same individual at one time, resolutely and success- 
 fully resists temptation, and at another yields and 
 falls when the mere external circumstances of the 
 temptation were precisely alike in both instance*. 
 In the first case, he had kept the rein on his thoughts, 
 had excluded from his mind the conception of 
 the forbidden thing, and all the alluring and exag- 
 gerated views of the pleasures of criminal indul- 
 gence, nay, he had thought of the wrong, the guilt, 
 the remorse, the condemnation and pangs of con- 
 
208 SERMON IX. 
 
 science, and the frown of God, that he would incur 
 by compliance, and he withstood the outward allure- 
 ment when such was his inward state of mind. In 
 the second case, he had given up the reins to his 
 thoughts, had cherished conceptions of the forbid- 
 den thing, had kept out of view the wrong and guilt, 
 God's authority and frown, and held up and dwelt 
 only on false and extravagant views of the plea- 
 sures of criminal compliance, and he fell before the 
 outward temptation when such was the secret state 
 of his heart. The Bible gives us the explanation 
 of this fall, in the following striking declaration: 
 '*He that hath no rule over his own spirit, is like a 
 city that is broken down and without walls." 
 
 We need seek no further explanation of a matter 
 so plain, and whose truth is so deeply written in the 
 experience and observation of every Christian who 
 has been seriously doing battle with the world, the 
 flesh, and the devil. TVroiig trains of thought, a 
 wrong secret state of the mind, must ordinarily 
 precede every instance of falling before the power 
 of outward temptation. Therefore, the right go- 
 vernment of the thoughts, a right state of mind, an- 
 ticipates the attacks of temptation, and rears around 
 the soul a fortification that will defy all the embat- 
 tled forces from without. Why did the Son of God 
 so triumphantly baffle all the wiles of the devil, and 
 remain unshaken, when plied by that arch-fiend for 
 forty days and forty nights, with all the advantage 
 of the solitude of a wilderness and his own super- 
 human skill and power to give unwonted force to 
 outward temptation ? Because the Saviour had a 
 perfect government over his thoughts, — he had 
 
SERMON IX. 209 
 
 " ever}/ thought in captivity unto the obedience '^ of 
 righteousness — he had never harboured one solitary- 
 sinful conception. In liIs holy mind therefore there 
 was no tinder to be kindled in a moment by a spark 
 from the fiery darts of the wicked that flew so 
 thickly and yet fell so harmlessly around him. We 
 can now appreciate the significancy of Christ's de- 
 claration on this point respecting himself: "The 
 prince of this world cometh, and Jindeth nothing in 
 meV No materials in that perfectly governed, 
 pure mind on which the infernal machinations pf 
 Satan could operate! A proper government of the 
 thoughts is the secret of all the successful resistance 
 to temptations which the scriptures record. Had 
 Joseph, when sold into Egypt, been familiar with 
 such poetry as Byron's Don Juan — had he been 
 filled with such images as certain modern novels 
 paint on the susceptible-young imagination, and had 
 he revolved and dwelt on these, enacting the vices 
 they so adroitly commend in his own secret thoughts, 
 do you suppose he would ever have withstood that 
 tremendous trial of his youthful purity in which the 
 prospect of secrecy, and the exalted station and 
 prjfligate importunity of his artful tempter gave to 
 every circumstance of the temptation an almost ir- 
 resistible energy. No! never! His virtue would 
 have been swept before it as a cobweb before the 
 whirlwind. But he did triumphantly withstand it. 
 Why ? Because he had previously exercised a ri- 
 gid discipline over his own mind. In the cruel 
 malice and betrayal of his brethren — in his journey- 
 ings, a lone captive — in bondage and aflliction — in 
 exile and anguish he had placed his confidence in 
 J8^ 
 
210 SERMON IX. 
 
 his God, and learned in that school, and had already 
 practised a vigilant government over his thoughts, 
 bringing every one into captivity unto the obedience 
 of Christ. And God was thus fitting him in after 
 years to govern a mighty empire, and to become 
 the arbiter of the temporal destiny of millions, and 
 the exalted instrument of effecting a part of the 
 eternal purposes of the Almighty in reference to 
 his ancient church. Would you, my hearers, stand 
 nobly fortified against the sinful allurements of 
 earth? — would you meet the mightiest shock of its 
 temptations without taking fire and being consumed 
 by the collision ? — then be entreated to govern well 
 your thoughts, and make the grand achievement of 
 bringing every one a captive to the foot of the 
 cross. 
 
 IV. The proper government of your thoughts 
 will promote your highest present happiness. 
 
 It is truly surprising that after ample experience 
 and observations to the contrary, we should still 
 find men so extensively under the delusion, that 
 happiness primarily depends on favourable ou/i^^^jrc? 
 circumstances. Even Christians sometimes think 
 that their spiritual enjoyment is measurably de- 
 pendent on external causes. And hence, they in- 
 dulge vain wishes that they were situated different- 
 ly from what they are, supposing that then they 
 would have more peace, more spiritual enjoyment. 
 But this is all a gross misapprehension. Happiness 
 of any kind is almost exclusively dependent on the 
 internal state of the mind itself, and none more so 
 than man's highest present happiness, which in tho 
 nature of the case must he spiritual. The mind h^§ 
 
SERMON IX. 211 
 
 an empire all its own, within itself, and wholly se- 
 parate from outward circumstances. This is the 
 empire of thought and emotion. To govern this 
 well is a greater achievement than to rule a nation, 
 and constitutes our highest present happiness. How 
 the right government of the thoughts secures this 
 result, is neither a mystery nor a marvel. The very 
 consciousness of obeying God in this matter, and of 
 being successful in gaining the mastery over our 
 own spirits, inspires a noble exultation infinitely su- 
 perior to the tumultuous joy of the greatest military 
 conqueror. Peace of conscience and a sense of act- 
 ing agreeably to enlightened reason, are two great 
 elements of spiritual happiness. Now, a proper 
 government of the thoughts restores conscience to 
 the throne, and reason to its appro>priate place and 
 functions. Conscience is thus guarded from wounds, 
 and reason from perversion and wrong decisions. 
 All the powers of our moral nature are thus ba- 
 lanced and harmonized. The usurped dominion 
 of appetite and the lawless violence of passion are 
 at an end, and the soul has a calm, deep, delightful 
 repose, the very prelude of the rest of heaven. The 
 right government of the thoughts is an indispensa- 
 ble condition on which the highest enjoyment in 
 the duties and services of religion, public and pri- 
 vate, is bestowed. What is necessary to give to the 
 reading the word of God, to meditation and to se- 
 cret prayer, their full power to render the soul hap- 
 py, and to satisfy it as with marrow and with fat- 
 ness ? Freedom from tvandering thoughts — a dis- 
 cipline of mind by which the whole attention can 
 be concentrated on these exercises. What gives to 
 
212 SERMON IX. 
 
 the Sabbath its peaceful and holy influence over 
 the soul ? — what gives to the worship of the sanc- 
 tuary, the hearing of the word preached, or the 
 more familiar services of religion, their greatest 
 power to confer spiritual joy on the waiting, long- 
 ing mind? Freedom from vain, wandering, dis- 
 tracting thoughts. Now this can be secured 07il7/ by 
 a well established government of the thoughts, which 
 brings every one into captivity and due subjection. 
 You know, my hearers, by sad experience, that 
 the very thing which constitutes the canker at the 
 root of all spiritual enjoyment in religious duties is, 
 that during the round of these various duties, your 
 minds are harassed with impertinent and wandering 
 thoughts, and your time and strength occupied in 
 battling wdth them, when heart and soul, guarded 
 from all such intruders, ought to be calmly open to 
 the reception and the gentle influences of the Spirit, 
 and ought to be wholly absorbed in the delightful 
 exercises of a deep devotion. Christians sometimes 
 complain of wandering thoughts in their religious 
 duties, as though it were something marvellous and 
 unaccountable that they should be thus plagued. 
 But, brethren, this is no marvel. It is the natural, 
 the legitimate, and necessary consequence of not 
 governing their thoughts at other times, and before 
 they enter on such duties. If men allowed their 
 thoughts to be as much, and as habitually diverted 
 from their ordinary pursuits, as they do from their 
 religious duties, they would find but little relish in 
 those pursuits, and would be greatly tormented with 
 wandering thoughts while actually engaged in them. 
 To neglect an habitual and rigid government of the 
 
SERMON IX. 213 
 
 th Oil gilts, and yet expect to be free from distraction 
 of mind, and to enjoy the highest spiritual happi- 
 ness when we enter on our religious duties, would 
 be as preposterous as for a parent who neglects all 
 discipline and habitual family government, to expect 
 that occasionally, when he has visiters, he will be 
 free from all the mortification of misrule and insu- 
 bordination amongst his children, and will have all 
 the domestic happiness conferred by their docility, 
 obedience, and respect. The parent, in this case, is 
 vainly expecting a behaviour from his children 
 which they could only exhibit as the result of his 
 steady, habitual discipline and government over 
 them. The Christian who neglects to rule his own 
 busy spirit, and yet counts upon freedom from wan- 
 dering thoughts, and high spiritual enjoyment in re- 
 ligious duties, is expecting a result that can only be 
 realized by an habitual and stern control of the 
 thoughts. No man ought to look for an effect with- 
 out its appropriate cause in the spiritual, more than 
 in the natural world. But freedom from wandering 
 thoughts, and high spiritual joy in the duties of reli- 
 gion, are the effect of a right government of the 
 tho'ughts, and can result from no other cause. With 
 such a government, every duty will be a delight — 
 the closet, the family altar, the sanctuary, and the 
 place of prayer, will all be Bethels, the house of 
 God, and the gate of heaven, where no unholy 
 thoughts shall intrude, where the soul, undiverted 
 and serene, will hold peaceful communion with its 
 God, and be filled with the joy of the Holy Ghost. 
 Now, brethren, the duty in the text takes its appeal 
 from the highest spiritual enjoyment you can have 
 
214 SERMON IX. 
 
 this side the third heavens, and speaks to the largest, 
 deepest desires of your souls after present happiness, 
 and solemnly assures you that such happiness is only 
 attainable by " bringing every thought into captivity 
 unto the obedience of Christ." 
 
 Lastly. A successful government of the thoughts 
 is the great secret of advancement in the divine 
 life, and preparation for heaven. This proposition 
 is obviously involved in the preceding part of the 
 discourse. If such a government of the thoughts 
 exerts a powerful and determining influence on our 
 moral character and our course of action — if it frees 
 us from the secret impulses of sinful passions, and 
 fortifies us against all the forces of external tempta- 
 tion, then, most manifestly, it sweeps out of our 
 way the chief and greatest obstacles to our advance- 
 ment in the divine life. Bring a right moulding 
 influence on the moral character, a right control 
 over the actions, clear the soul of the secret violent 
 impulses of lawless passions, and defend it with im- 
 pregnable fortifications from all assault by outward 
 temptations, and then what should hinder its rege- 
 nerated energies from moving onward in the divine 
 life, and by God's help working out successfully its 
 own salvation? And yet, this is but the negative 
 influence of a right government of the thoughts on 
 our growth in grace. It exerts, also, a direct and 
 positive influence. It secures the supremacy of 
 conscience, leads us to obey its dictates, and gives 
 us the advantage of the quick sensibility and pow- 
 erful impulses of this faculty to what is good and 
 holy. Who can compute what a furtherance in 
 grace may be attained by the steady influence of an 
 
SERMON IX. 215 
 
 enlightened, tender, faithful conscience? But we 
 have seen in the preceding remarks, that the proper 
 government of thoughts also brings all the moral 
 powers of the soul into balance and harmony, ha- 
 bituates the understanding to love and receive the 
 truth, the reason to make right decisions, the affec- 
 tions to desire, and the will to choose what con- 
 science, truth, and reason decide to be the highest 
 and best ends of pursuit. Now, is it not obvious, 
 that such a balance, such a smooth harmonious ac- 
 tion of all the faculties will give them an incalcula- 
 ble efficiency in the great w'ork of advancing in the 
 divine life? They move without that friction, and 
 those jars of wandering thought which retard the 
 speed, and cripple the power of the soul in running 
 the heavenly race. Did the government of the 
 thoughts effect nothing more than to save the mind 
 from the wasting of time, the harassing and debili- 
 tating influence of wandering thoughts during our 
 religious duties, it would, then, be a great facility 
 in growing in grace. But it does more than this; 
 we have seen that it makes all our religious services 
 a delight, and confers the highest spiritual happi- 
 ness on us in our attendance on divine ordinances. 
 This, perhaps, is one great secret of its power, for 
 "the JOY of the Lord is the strength of his people.'' 
 Yes, the world over, the intelligently joyful Chris- 
 tian is the really and rapidly growing Christian. 
 When the performance of duty is our most delight- 
 ful employment, when upon the calm, well governed 
 soul, the joys of God's salvation roll in from the 
 administration of all divine ordinances, when that 
 soul is glowing with love and delight in its commu- 
 
216 SERMON IX. 
 
 nion with God, foretasting the raptures of heaven's 
 bliss, and feeling the infinite attractions of its reality 
 and glory, then does it mount as on wings of eagles, 
 and with eagles' speed pursue its upward, onward 
 flight, to the consummation of the divine life. But 
 our growth in grace does not depend exclusively on 
 the time we spend in direct and formal acts of reli- 
 gious duties and worship. The time thus occupied 
 bears but a very small proportion to the whole of 
 those hours of life that must be improved for our 
 advancement in holiness, and preparation for heaven. 
 As I have remarked, our holy religion is very much 
 a religion of secret thotighls. No small part of our 
 preparation for an eternal heaven, consists in the 
 proper government of that multitude of our thoughts 
 which crowd the mind in the periods of the ordina- 
 ry pursuits and recreations of life. Now, as these 
 are by far the greater periods of our time, and as 
 they will deeply influence the hours which we spend 
 in direct religious services, that steady, habitual go- 
 vernment which we exercise over our thoughts in 
 these larger portions of our time, must prove the 
 great efficient means under God of our advancement 
 in the divine life, and our meetness for the king- 
 dom of heaven. Nay, such a government of the 
 thoughts is one of the conditions of entering that 
 kingdom at last. Advancement in holiness is not 
 possible, and heaven is not promised to the man who 
 never attempts to govern his thoughts except when 
 engaged in formal acts of religious service; for such 
 a man really does not govern them at all. It 
 is he who habitually keeps his body under by go- 
 verning his thoughts, that in the end shall not be 
 
SERMON IX. 217 
 
 a castaway. It is the man who by this process pu- 
 rifieth himself, even as his Lord is pure, tliat is, be- 
 ing prepared for that heaven into which the unholy 
 can never enter. It is he who doeth the command- 
 ments, those that relate to the government of the 
 thoughts as well as to the outward actions, that shall 
 "enter within the gates into the city, and shall have 
 right to the tree of life.'^ It is he who fights the 
 good fight of faith — a part of which consists in war- 
 ring against unholy secret thoughts, and the whole 
 success of which depends on their right government 
 — he it is, that shall lay hold of eternal life, and be 
 crowned an immortal victor! The mind that has 
 not so learned to bring "every thought into capti- 
 vity unto the obedience of Christ,^' is not prepared 
 for his holy presence, nor for the blissful triumphs 
 and rapturous exultations of heaven. Those tri- 
 umphs and exultations in no small degree consist in 
 the perfected and glorious mastery which sovereign 
 grace has enabled man to gain, and to hold over his 
 own immortal spirit. The perfect, hoh^, eternal 
 government which the soul recovered from sin here, 
 shall exercise over its own thoughts hereafter, will 
 be one bright wonder of redeeming grace in heaven. 
 0! what a motive is this to enforce the duty con- 
 tained in our text! Every thing that is dear and 
 joyful to the Christian in victory over the world, 
 in the development and growth in grace of all his 
 regenerated powers; all that is glorious in the ex- 
 panding soul moving onward to the sublime con- 
 summation of its divine life, urging him to govern 
 his thoughts aright. Yea, more, such a government 
 of the thoughts is made the indispensable condition 
 19 
 
218 SERMON IX. 
 
 of entering heaven itself! Look up, Christian, to 
 yonder bright eternal world. Let faith enter within 
 the veil, unto the holy of holies there. Catch a 
 glimpse of the glories of God and the Lamb, that 
 create the sun-light of its calm and endless day. 
 Look around on its objects of infinite beauty and 
 deep repose, its walls of jasper, its gates of pearl, 
 its streets of gold, its sea of glass before the throne, 
 its pure crystal river, its trees and fruits of life, 
 behold the myriads of its sinless inhabitants, think 
 of their benevolent activities, their exalted spheres, 
 in which they move "like stars unhasting yet un- 
 resting." Contemplate their progress in know- 
 ledge, their increase and perfection in holiness, the 
 joys of their intimate and ceaseless communion with 
 God and the Lamb, the transports of their victory, 
 catch the notes of their new song, the grand harmo- 
 nies of their eternal hosannahs to redeeming grace 
 and dying love! 0! do you kindle ancl glow now 
 with dilating aspirations to be one of the number 
 who shall be clothed in white with palms in their 
 hands there? Govern well your thoughts here, that 
 is one condition of your admission to that world 
 of spotless purity and perfect bliss. Heaven pours 
 its light around you, to cheer and allure you to this 
 duty, and speaks to your soul from out the deep 
 mysteries of its glories and its joys, and says — 
 'Uhese are the rewards of bringing every thought 
 into captivity unto the obedience of Christ." 
 
 It may be remarked from this subject, in the first 
 place, that the degree of one^s vital piety can be 
 accurately measured by the extent to which he 
 habitually governs his thoughts. Without some 
 
SERMON IX. 219 
 
 control over his own thoughts, he can have no rea- 
 sonable claim to any religion, even as "a grain of 
 mustard seed." It is preposterous to speak of that 
 man's piety who habitually yields his mind to any 
 trains of thought that may chance to offer. "The 
 thought of foolishness is sin;" and he who sins ha- 
 bitually, even in thought, " is of the devil." 
 
 If the right government of our thoughts be the 
 main instrument in forming a right moral character 
 and directing a proper course of action — if it deliver 
 us from the secret violence of sinful passions, and 
 fortify us against outward temptation — if it give us 
 that relish in religious duties which makes them our 
 delight, and makes the administration of divine ordi- 
 nances available for our edification — and if it ad- 
 vance us in the divine life, and fit us for heaven, 
 then is it not evident that the extent to which a 
 man habitually exercises such a government over 
 his thoughts is precisely the measure of all the re- 
 ligion that he has? Think of this, ye professing 
 Christians who know nothing of the painful strug- 
 gle and the successful effort of governing your se- 
 cret thoughts! Your outward observances, your 
 ostentatious activity, your Jehu-like zeal, and all 
 the noise and turmoil of your benevolent enter- 
 prises must pass for naught while you neglect to 
 keep your own hearts with all diligence, for out of 
 the7n "are the issues of life," and of all the living 
 piety credibly exhibited in the world. You have 
 not one particle more of real, true religion than 
 you have of habitual right government over your 
 thoughts. ITie latter is the perfect guage of the 
 former; and by this measure ought you, before 
 
220 SERMON IX. 
 
 God, to examine your hearts, and decide how much 
 vital piety you possess to-day. 
 
 I may remark from this subject, in the second 
 place, that at present there is a noticeable tendency 
 amongst professors of religion to undervalue its 
 importance, and neglect the duty of a rigid go- 
 vernment of the thoughts. In our day there is a 
 very strong determination of religion to the mere 
 surface. Things that are palpable — that can be re- 
 cognised by the senses — that can be weighed or 
 measured, and whose immediate utility can be 
 known and appreciated, alone seem to be capable 
 of interesting the minds of the majority of men. 
 We can see the influence of this spirit of the age 
 on religion. It, too, is becoming a mere outward 
 thing, that has no deep root in the secrets of the 
 soul — no spiritual conflicts — no wrestlings with the 
 angel of the covenant in the night of our sorrows 
 and our fears. It would seem to be degenerating 
 into a kind of sacred phantasmagoria, dazzling and 
 astounding to a superficial generation. We have 
 our great benevolent societies and auxiliary socie- 
 ties, associations and sub-associations, splendid me- 
 thods of charitable contribution, protracted meet- 
 ings and public services, and a vast and complicated 
 religious machinery, which, by the very magnifi- 
 cence of its movements, is drawing off* the attention 
 of Christians from the still more important and 
 wonderful, though silent and secret machinery and 
 movements of their own busy, thinking spirits. Let 
 me not be misunderstood here. I bid a cordial God 
 speed to every well organized institution — to every 
 public meeting and service that will tend to the dif' 
 
SERMON IX. 221 
 
 fusion of the gospel and the redemption of souls. 
 But such is the imperfection of even partially sanc- 
 tified men, that this array of external means, this 
 bustle and intensity of outward action, prove a temp- 
 tation to over estimate them, and undervalue the in- 
 finitely momentous duty of a rigid government of 
 the thoughts. And yet such a government consti- 
 tutes all the real vital force that can propel the out- 
 ward machinery of religion, and guide its move- 
 ments to safe and glorious results. Would the 
 apostle Paul ever have made those splendid out- 
 ward achievements which filled his wonderful his- 
 tory, had he not first gained the greater inward tri- 
 umph of "bringing every thought into captivity 
 unto the obedience of Christ?" But we have reason 
 to fear that this duty is greatly neglected by pro- 
 fessing Christians in our day. ^^ Action^^^ "action," 
 is the cry now; and all very well, provided you do 
 not understand and limit this watchword to mere 
 outward action. There is another field of severe, 
 intense Christian action besides the world around 
 you — the silent, secret world within you. It is 
 Acre that that "kingdom of God that cometh not 
 with observation " is set up and maintained. You 
 must govern well the subjects of this inner world — 
 your own thoughts — if you ever expect to bless, by 
 your influence and overt action, the outer world in 
 which you dwell. But how little of that retire- 
 ment — those seasons of fasting and secret prayer, to 
 bring the rebellious, hidden thoughts into subjec- 
 tion — those hours of weeping penitence and secluded 
 communion with God, spent for the purpose of esta- 
 blishing a strict government over the liabits of se- 
 19* 
 
222 SERMON IX. 
 
 cret thought, which characterized Christians in the 
 days of Flavel, Baxter, and Howe, are to be found 
 in the church at present! These retired, unosten- 
 tatious, yet vitally important and essential exercises 
 of true religion, have been well nigh wholly aban- 
 doned, of late, for the more exciting and imposing 
 external duties. Indeed, ostentatious activity and 
 strong public excitement seem to be the great ele- 
 ment in which many professing Christians now live. 
 And I record it with sorrow, as a sad sign of these 
 times, that the services of the pulpit are beginning 
 to be of a kind to foster this perverted taste, and to 
 minister to the morbid craving for strong stimulus 
 and tragic excitement. What an immense change 
 in the style of preaching since the days of John 
 Howe! A single sermon of his contains enough of 
 solid, deep thought to be diluted with the pathetic 
 and interspersed with anecdotes, so as to make about 
 twenty such sermons as are common and quite too 
 popular in our day ! Indeed, a sermon full of truth, 
 consisting of a well digested, logical train of dense 
 thought, is considered at present a very tame af- 
 fair; especially if it be written^ and thus save the 
 preacher from " wandering in endless mazes lost," 
 and from the temptation to make up in noise and 
 froth what he lacks in connexion and sense. 
 
 Now, my hearers, this is all wrong. Such an in- 
 fluence from the mere outside of religion, and such 
 a style of preaching as I have hinted at, are fast rob- 
 bing us of the very inclination, the power and the 
 facilities of governing our thoughts. If we are to 
 have a deeper, more steadily advancing, and perma- 
 nent piety in the church, we must give to the closet, 
 
SERMON IX. .823 
 
 the Bible, meditation, and retired communion with 
 God, more time and attention; and by these helps 
 establish and maintain a strict government over our 
 secret thoughts. We must not only "endure sound 
 doctrine," but learn to relish and love that kind of 
 preaching which will tax our minds as well as our 
 hearts, and urge us to think and examine as well 
 as to feel and weep. No man prizes more than I 
 do the warm gush of religious feeling. To me 
 there is an ineffable tenderness, a celestial beauty, 
 in the tears of a penitent, pardoned soul at its devo- 
 tions. But religious feeling, be it remembered, is 
 valuable only just so far as it results from intelli- 
 gent views of God's truth, and bursts from a heart 
 that is daily aiming to bring every thought into 
 captivity unto the obedience of Christ. 
 
 Finally. — This subject is of infinite impor- 
 tance to the young, who are just commencing 
 their Christian course. My youthful hearers of 
 this class, it is for your sakes mainly that I have 
 laboured carefully, and, I trust, faithfully, to discuss 
 this momentous topic. Oh that the Holy Spirit 
 may impress on your souls to-day a deep conviction 
 of the importance of beginning at once to govern 
 your thoughts. What precious facilities you have 
 for this great work! You have no inveterate habits 
 of mind to be overcome as a hinderance to 3^our com- 
 mencement of this duty. Your associations and 
 trains of thought on many subjects are not )'et 
 formed and rigidly fixed. You have all the ardour 
 of youthful feeling, the buoyancy of youthful hope, 
 and the fervour of your "first love" to fire your 
 high resolve, and carry you with impetus into tliis 
 
224 SERMON IX. 
 
 most important department of action in your reli- 
 gious life — the struggle to rule over your own spi- 
 rits. You have, as yet, none of the dead weights 
 of backsliding on you — no habits of slothful neglect 
 of 3^our thoughts yet established. Your minds are 
 still pliant, and capable of easy adjustment to any 
 task. They have a fresh, un wasted, eager energy, 
 that, under God, can work out the great problem of 
 self-government — of bringing every thought into 
 captivity unto the obedience of Christ. Oh, my 
 youthful hearers, in solemn earnest and with irre- 
 versible purpose begin this grand effort to-day! 
 Through Christ strengthening you, the work is 
 practicable — you can do it. And permit me to re- 
 mind you that there is not a duty of your holy reli- 
 gion on the vigorous performance of which you 
 have so much at stake as on thfs. You will deeply 
 feel the truth of this remark when you are more 
 advanced in years. How many older Christians, 
 were they permitted to give vent now to the emo- 
 tions awakened by this part of the subject, would 
 exclaim from a breaking heart, "Would to God that 
 in our early days, when we began our Christian 
 course, we had been instructed and admonished of 
 the supreme importance of this duty !'' The forma- 
 tion of your religious character — your course of ac- 
 tion and kind of influence on the world — your suc- 
 cess and triumph in the great battle with foes with- 
 out and foes within — your peace and joy in the 
 Holy Ghost — your steady progress in the divine 
 life — your preparation for all that heaven is and 
 will be to a redeemed soul, and the condition of 
 your final entrance into that glorious, eternal state 
 
SERMON IX. 225 
 
 — all the mighty interests of your being for immor- 
 tality are to be won or lost in your victory or de- 
 feat in that tremendous conflict by which every 
 thought is to be brought into captivity unto the 
 obedience of Christ, 
 
226 SERMON X. 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 "And this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world, for 
 a witness unto all nations," — Matt. xxiv. 14. 
 
 The genius of the gospel is essentially diffusive. 
 It is adapted and was designed to be the religion of 
 man. And if any future event can be rendered ab- 
 solutely certain, it is the ultimate spread and intel- 
 ligible proclamation of the gospel to the whole 
 world. Independent of express prediction, this 
 might be argued from the adaptation of the gospel 
 to the condition of the entire human race, and the 
 kind of witness it is intended to bear for God to the 
 whole world. Its ample provisions are suited to 
 the wants of all, and sufficiently munificent to meet 
 the direst exigencies of ruined human nature every 
 where. " It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all 
 acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world 
 to save " the chief of sinners. He is " the Lamb of 
 God who taketh away the sins of the world." His 
 atoning blood cleanseth from all unrighteousness. 
 His power and grace are illimitable. His divine 
 compassion impartial. The administration of the 
 Holy Spirit, which applies the purchased redemp- 
 tion, is efficient and glorious, adapted to gather all 
 nations under its unseen, yet almighty energies. 
 The change of moral character which the gospel 
 
SERMON X. 227 
 
 effects — the tragic woes which it relieves — the joys 
 it confers, and the hopes it inspires, are equally in- 
 teresting to fallen human nature, in every variety of 
 physical condition, or in any possible locality on the 
 face of the globe. Why then should it not be 
 preached in all the world? It is equally ''glad 
 tidings '' to all nations and kindreds, and tongues, 
 and people under heaven. Its very nature includes 
 its prospective universality. And if God has made 
 nothing in vain, then has he not given the gospel 
 this character of amplitude and universal adapted- 
 ness to the whole lost race of man, without the de- 
 sign that it shall yet be preached in all the world. 
 This design is equally evident also from the kind 
 of testimony or witness for God which the gospel is 
 adapted to bear. It glorifies his eternal love for the 
 lost and the guilty. It testifies to his infinite com- 
 passion for self-destroyed man. It shows at what a 
 sacrifice he provided redemption for the ruined and 
 the hopeless. " God so loved the world that he 
 gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth 
 on him might not perish, but have everlasting life." 
 The atonement, which is the great central fact in 
 this gospel of the kingdom, testifies most impres- 
 sively to God's ineffable abhorrence of sin, his de- 
 termination to punish it, and to sustain inviolate 
 his righteous law, and promote the interests of holi- 
 ness in his empire, while at the same time it shows 
 a mercy that yearns and stoops by an expedient so 
 grand and avvful, to save the miserable dying sinner. 
 Now if it be important that this august disclosure 
 of God's character in the gospel be made to any, is 
 it not equally important that ultimately it should be 
 
228 SERMON X. 
 
 made to all oi the human race? If this witness 
 which the gospel bears to the eternal love of God 
 in the gift of his Son — to his holiness, justice and 
 truth — to his compassion for the guilty and mise- 
 rable — to the provisions he has made for their rescue 
 from all the woes of their apostacy, and their eleva- 
 tion to all the joys and exalted destinies of the re- 
 deemed in heaven — if it be important that. such a 
 testimony should be borne for God to any nation 
 under heaven, is it not equally important that it 
 should be borne in behalf of their common Sovereign 
 and Proprietor, to all nations? Yea, obviously. 
 And to put it beyond the pale of doubt or contro- 
 versy, the truth of God stands pledged in the pre- 
 diction of our text, that " this gospel of the kingdom 
 shall be preached in all the world, for a witness 
 imto all nations." Now as God has indicated his 
 purpose to accomplish this stupendous result mainly 
 by human instrumentality, and as the command to 
 go into all the world and preach the gospel to eve^^y 
 creature, rests imperatively on the church at present, 
 it becomes us to look carefully over the whole field, 
 and see if any considerable portion of it has hitherto 
 been almost entirely neglected. 
 
 With the moral map of this apostate world, in its 
 lights and shadowsoflife and death before us, let us fix 
 our eye on the vast continent of Africa, and survey 
 with Christian compassion its " horror of great dark- 
 ness !" It shall be the object of this discourse to 
 direct your attention to this portion of the globe as 
 a field for Christian missions — a part of the " whole 
 world," where " this gospel of the kingdom " \syet 
 to he preached. That Africa has claims upon the 
 
SKRMON X. 229 
 
 sympathies, the charities, the prayers, and evange- 
 lical etTorts of Christendom, will be manifest from 
 the following considerations: 
 
 I. I need hardly remark that Africa is a large 
 part of that world which the Saviour died to re- 
 deem. It constitutes about one-fifth of the habitable 
 surface of our earth. Portions of it are richly blest 
 WMth the munificent gifts of a bounteous Providence, 
 teeming with the luxuriant products of a tropical 
 climate, and capable of sustaining a dense population, 
 with all the physical resources necessary to an ad- 
 vanced state of civilization. The number of its in- 
 habitants has been variously estimated from one 
 hundred to one hundred and twenty, and even to 
 one hundred and sixty millions ! 
 
 By some it is thought that that continent embraces 
 nearly one-fifth of the entire population of this guilty 
 world. If these estimates only approximate the 
 actual number, or if they considerably exceed it, 
 in either case the fact of a large population is esta- 
 blished. One hundred and twenty, or one hundred 
 and sixty millions of accountable, immortal spirits 
 revolted from God — ruined by sin — under sentence 
 of condemnation — the wrath of God abiding upon 
 them — the gloom and the woes of the apostac}^ their 
 sad inheritance, and yet not excluded by any arbi- 
 trary decree from the compassion of that God who 
 hath made us all of one blood, and with whom there 
 is no respect of persons, nor from the universality of 
 the calls and offers of that gospel of the kingdom 
 which shall yet be preached in all the world, as a 
 witness unto all nations. Is not Africa then a part, 
 and a large part of that world for which God gave 
 20 
 
230 SERMON X. 
 
 his only begotten Son, and which Christ died to re- 
 deem ? Has it not righteous claims on the expan- 
 sive and impartial charity of Christendom ? By 
 what rule shall India, and China, and the South Sea 
 Islands engross so much sympathy, receive so much 
 of life, labour, prayer, liberal contributions, and per- 
 severing evangelical effort, while bleeding Africa is 
 w^ell nigh excluded ? Is it not time for the Chris- 
 tian world to awake to her long deferred claims ? 
 Is it not high time that the angel, having the ever- 
 lasting gospel to preach to all nations, should have 
 his flight directed to that land of overspreading dark- 
 ness, and that his trumpet should at last be lieard 
 above the blast of the war-horn, breaking the silence 
 of spiritual death that has reigned for so many cen- 
 turies there I 
 
 II. The very darkness and deep degradation of 
 Jifrica specially claim Christian effort in her be- 
 half. Comparatively little is known of the moral 
 condition of the interior of this benighted continent. 
 Commerce and the slave trade have given us some 
 fearful disclosures of the state of the native tribes on 
 the western coast. The following is no exaggerated 
 picture of their condition, previously to the melio- 
 rating influence exerted on them by Christian colo- 
 nies: 
 
 "At our earliest dates, the natives were idolaters 
 of the grossest kind, polygamists, slave-holders, slave 
 traders, kidnappers, ofierers of human sacrifices, and 
 some of them cannibals. For four centuries, or five, 
 if we receive the French account, they have been in 
 habits of constant intercourse with the most profli- 
 gate, tlie most licentious, the most rapacious, and in 
 
SERMON X. 231 
 
 every respect the vilest and most corrupting classes 
 of men to be found in the civilized world, — with 
 slave traders, most of whom were pirates in every 
 thing but courage, and many of whom committed 
 piracy whenever they dared, — and with pirates in 
 the fullest sense of the word. By this intercourse, 
 the natives were constantly stimulated to crimes of 
 the deepest dye, and thoroughly trained to all the 
 vices of civilization which savages are capable of 
 learning. During the most fearful predominance of 
 undisguised piracy, from 16SS to 1730, their demo- 
 ralization went on, especially upon the Windward 
 Coast, more rapidly than ever before, and became 
 so intense, that it was impossible to maintain trading 
 houses on shore; so that, on this account, as we are 
 expressly informed, in 1730, there was not a single 
 European factory on that whole coast. Trade was 
 then carried on by ships passing along the coast, and 
 stopping wherever the natives kindled a fire as a 
 signal for traffic. And this continued to be the usual 
 mode of intercourse on that coast, when the British 
 Parliament, in 1791, began to collect evidence con- 
 cerning the slave trade.'^ 
 
 About twenty-five years ago the lamented Ash- 
 mun, from his own personal observation, gives the 
 following graphic and appalling sketch of the con- 
 dition of that portion of the western coast now called 
 Liberia: 
 
 "The two slaving stations of Cape Mount and 
 Cape Mesurado have, for several ages, desolated of 
 every thing valuable the intervening very fertile 
 and beautiful tract of country. The forests have re- 
 mained untouched, all moral virtue has been extin- 
 
232 SERMON X. 
 
 guished in the people, and their industry annihilated, 
 by this one ruinous cause. Polygamy and domestic 
 slavery, it is well known, are as universal as the 
 scanty means of the people will permit. And a li- 
 centiousness of practice which none — not the worst 
 part of any civilized community on earth — can pa- 
 rallel, gives a hellish consummation to the frightful 
 deformity imparted by sin to the moral aspect of 
 these tribes." 
 
 The superstitions and idolatry of the natives are 
 of the most gross, degrading, and revolting kind. 
 They believe in witchcraft, and are haunted with agi- 
 tating apprehensions and terrors respecting a mys- 
 terious, unseen, and yet irresistible power of evil 
 to health and life, wielded by the charm and incanta- 
 tion of others. They worship sharks and snakes, and 
 the horrid fetish tree, or Devil-bush, and have nu- 
 merous sottish rites, and cruel and sanguinary orgies. 
 And when under the galling burden of this system, 
 life at last is worn out, its close is often signalized 
 by a burial of the dead fraught with atrocious bar- 
 barity and tragic horrors. Indeed, the ceremony of 
 sepulture is generally the true index of the degree 
 of civilization, and the state of morals amongst a 
 people. The following description of an African 
 funeral was given by one who personally witnessed 
 the scene which he portrays, and the credibility of 
 which is amply confirmed by the testimony of others 
 who have witnessed similar and even more shock- 
 ing scenes: 
 
 " * The captain or chief of a village dying of a hard 
 drinking bout of brandy, the cries of his wives im- 
 mediately spread the news through the town. All 
 
SER.MON X. 233 
 
 the women ran there and howled like furies. The 
 favourite wife distinguished herself by her grief, 
 and not without cause. She was watched by the 
 other women to prevent her escape. The Marbut, 
 or priest, examined the body, and pronounced the 
 death natural — not the effect of witchcraft. Then 
 followed washing the body, and carrying it in pro- 
 cession through the village, with tearing of the hair, 
 howling, and other frantic expressions of grief. 
 During this, the Marbut made a grave, deep and 
 large enough to hold two bodies. lie also stripped 
 and skinned a goat. The pluck served to make a 
 ragout, of which he and the assistants ate. He also 
 caused the favourite wife to eat some, who had no 
 great inclination to taste it, knowing it was to be 
 her last. She ate some, however, and during this 
 repast, the body of the goat was divided in small 
 pieces, broiled and eaten. The lamentations began 
 again; and when the Marbut thought it was time to 
 end the ceremony, he took the favourite wife by the 
 arms, and delivered her to two stout negroes. These, 
 seizing her roughly, tied her hands and feet behind 
 her, and laying her on her back, placed a piece of 
 w^ood on her breast. Then, holding each other with 
 their hands on their shoulders, they stamped with 
 their feet on the piece of wood, till they had broken 
 the woman's breast. Having thus at least half de- 
 spatched her, they threw her into the grave, with 
 the remainder of the goat, casting her husband's 
 body over her, and filling up the grave with earth 
 and stones. Immediately, the cries ceasing, a quick 
 silence succeeded the noise, and every one retired 
 home as quietly as if nothing had happened.'" 
 '20^ 
 
234 SERMON X. 
 
 Now this is by no means an extreme case; as the 
 individual who died in this instance was but a petty- 
 civil functionary, and therefore, according to usage, 
 it was not necessary that so great a display should 
 be made as though he had held a more exalted office. 
 Authentic history records that on the death of one 
 of the kings of the Aikims, (a tribe located not far 
 from the British colony of Sierra Leone,) his people 
 sacrificed at his tomb his prime minister, three 
 hundred and thirty-six of his ivives, and upwards 
 of ONE THOUSAND of his slttvcs ! ! The object of 
 this wholesale immolation of human oeings was, that 
 the king might be furnished with a suitable re- 
 tinue — one befitting royalty — in the future world, 
 on which he had entered. 
 
 The most horrible fact in these funeral sacrifices, 
 is, that the victims are buried alive, their limbs 
 being all broken, and they thrown into open graves, 
 where they linger in great agony through the peri- 
 od of the dances, processions, and music around 
 them, which forms part of the ceremony, and some- 
 times continue during the whole of two days!!'' 
 Such is a faint sketch of the darkness of Africa, un- 
 
 * It is estimated that there are from thuiy to fifty millions of slaves 
 in Africa, all of whose lives are at the mercy of their owners, and any 
 of whom may share the fate of those just described, should they happen 
 to belong even to a petty captain or chief of a village. This, surely, is 
 the most direful form of davery. Would it not be well for some oi our 
 prominent Christian philanthropists to turn their attention to slavery ia 
 Africa, and ask themselves before God and conscience, how much their 
 zeal has done, or how much they have prayed or purposed to do, for tlie 
 abolition of this system of slavery, fraught as it is, with a thousandfold 
 more horrors, and embracing from ten to twenty times more in num 
 bers, than the system which has hitherto exhausted all their energies and 
 resources of head, heart, and pocket. 
 
SERMON X. 235 
 
 happy, almost unpiticd, Africa. Now, docs this 
 dense gloom of pagan night that shrouds her and 
 these demons of pagan superstition that prowl be- 
 neath its starless canopy, deter from Christian ef- 
 fort in her behalf? No. "The whole need not a 
 physician, but they that arc sick." Her sombre 
 shadows have a silent eloquence, more powerful 
 than words, that calls imperiously for effort to shed 
 upon them the light of life. To the pure and 
 piercing vision of a Saviour's omniscience, every 
 part of this guilty world once looked more dark and 
 dismal than does Africa now to the Christian's eye. 
 But this stayed not his embassy of love. Yearning 
 with infinite compassion, he made his cheerful ad- 
 vent amidst the gloom, and became " the light of the 
 world." The gross darkness which covered all 
 people, proved only a more powerful incentive to 
 his active pity. And so the unbroken cloud of Af- 
 rica's paganism and superstition, the barriers of ig- 
 norance, and the great gulfs which separate her 
 hapless children from civilization, science, and Chris- 
 tianity, make an irresistible appeal to our sympa- 
 thies, and demand our failh, patience, prayer, hope, 
 liberality, and persevering exertions for the regene- 
 ration of that ill-starred continent. 
 
 Iir. The wrongs and ills which its inhabitants 
 have suffered from the civilized world, demand 
 no less redress than sending the gospel to */ifrica. 
 
 For centuries the history of the African race has 
 been one of mournful and tragic interest, and their 
 sad destinies a profound mystery, in the righteous 
 providence of God over the world. The slave trade, 
 with all its direct and collateral miseries and de- 
 
236 SERMON X. 
 
 vastations, with its fiendish rapacity, piracy, and 
 enormous vices, has been plied on the devoted in- 
 habitants of Africa with an industry that has never 
 tired nor paused, and a cruel cupidity that has never 
 relented, for the last four or five hundred years. 
 Millions of her unoffending children have been torn 
 from her bosom amidst circumstances that give to 
 separation its most poignant agony. They have 
 been made the servants of servants in every land of 
 their dispersion. Doomed to returnless exile, and 
 bound to perpetual servitude, they have worn out 
 their lives in unrequited toil, in an unwearied and 
 joyless industry, for the interests of those who ori- 
 ginally stole them, and the accomplices who im- 
 posed on them the galling and permanent bonds of 
 their slavery. Nor do the millions exiled, dispersed, 
 and hopelessly enslaved for life, form the only 
 figures in the dark picture of Africa's wrongs and 
 ills. To say nothing of the inconceivable horrors 
 of "the middle passage" in the slave ships, the enor- 
 mous mortality and maddening suicide of the vic- 
 tims on their pathway over the deep to the land of 
 their bondage, yet the very mode of obtaining slaves 
 in Africa, presents an aggregation of hellish outrages 
 upon human nature, which no language can ade- 
 quately portray. To assist you in approaching to- 
 wards some just conceptions of the egregious wrongs 
 and injuries inflicted by this infernal traffic, I will 
 now give you a description, written by an eye wit- 
 ness, of the manner of obtaining slaves to meet a 
 certain demand in the market. The writer remarks: 
 "The following incident I relate, not for its sin- 
 gularity, for similar events take place, perhaps, every 
 
SERMON X. 237 
 
 month in the year; but because it has fallen under 
 my own observation, and I can vouch for its au- 
 thenticity. King Boatswain received a quantity of 
 goods in trade from a French slaver, for which he 
 stipulated to pay young slaves. He makes it a point 
 of honour to be punctual to his engagements The 
 time was at hand when he expected the return of 
 the slaver. He had not the slaves. Looking round 
 on the peaceable tribes about him, for his victims, 
 he singled out the Queahs, a small agricultural and 
 trading people, of most inoffensive -character. His 
 warriors were skilfully distributed to the different 
 hamlets, and making a simultaneous assault on the 
 sleeping occupants in thedeadof night,accomplished, 
 without difficulty or resistance, the annihilation, 
 with the exception of a few towns, of the whole 
 tribe. Every adult, man and woman, was murdered ; 
 very young children generally shared the fate of 
 their parents; the boys and girls alone were re- 
 served to pay the Frenchman." 
 
 I know, that by a law of mind, great local dis- 
 tance diminishes our sympathy and interest in the 
 most appalling events that occur in the history 
 of suffering humanity. But let us divest the scene 
 just described of distance, and bring it home in our 
 imaginings to one of our neighbouring villages. Let 
 us also divest it of distance in time, and suppose our- 
 selves standing the next morning the actual specta- 
 tors of the results of the horrid tragedy enacted there 
 the night before! What would be our impressions? 
 And did we associate similar events as occurring in 
 other villages and hamlets throughout our country, 
 perhaps, every month in the year, how appalling 
 
238 SERMON X. 
 
 would our own existence itself become to us in such 
 circumstances!! Now, all these wrongs and out- 
 rages above described, are not the less real and grie- 
 vous, the suffering has no less of depth and intensity, 
 because their locality lies beyond the Atlantic in 
 the land of the palm tree, and the sufferers are dis- 
 tinguished from us by the hues of their skin. 
 
 It deserves special notice here, also, that most of 
 those savage, sanguinary, and exterminating wars 
 waged under various pretexts on each other by the 
 native tribes, are, in fact, excited by the desire of 
 obtaining slaves for the market. When you add to 
 this, the introduction of intoxicating drinks by the 
 slave traders, their example of beastly licentiousness, 
 the teaching of all the most intense vices of a cor- 
 rupt civilization which savages could learn, and the 
 constant stimulus which their intercourse with them, 
 brought upon the worst passions of barbarous human 
 nature, you have a picture of wrongs and ills un- 
 paralleled in the annals of our world! And who 
 has inflicted this outrageous and overgrown aggre- 
 gate of injuries on Africa ? Professedly Christian 
 nations! Yes, the Lion of Great Britain, and the 
 Eagle of America, formerly crouching and perching 
 over the deck of the slave ships, as they bore away 
 Africa's sons and daughters to hopeless bondage. 
 Does not Christendom oive a mighty debt to that 
 despoiled, bereaved land? Like Rachel weeping 
 for her children, and refusing to be comforted, be- 
 cause they are not; does not Africa's voice of la- 
 mentation cry to heaven against the civilized world, 
 and call upon our common humanity for redress? 
 Now, what adequate reparation can we make for 
 
SERMON X. 239 
 
 wrongs, violence, and havoc of centuries, without 
 parallel, and in some respects irretrievable? The 
 act of tardy justice in making sound and stringent 
 laws against the slave trade, and in placing armed 
 squadrons on the coast to suppress this unnatural 
 and inhuman commerce in souls, is no competent 
 requital for the enormous evils inflicted on Africa, 
 nor does it form the efficient instrumentality by 
 which those evils are ultimately to be removed. 
 No. We must send her " the glorious gospel of the 
 blessed God." This is the redress which the elo- 
 quence of Africa's wo pleads for, and claims at our 
 hands. It is the only adequate, infallible remedy, 
 for the gigantic evils under which she groans. Ex- 
 periment is beginning to teach this obvious, but 
 hitherto overlooked, truth. The British Parliament 
 has been petitioned to discontinue an armed force 
 for the suppression of the slave trade, on the ground 
 that the evils of the traffic have been greatly in- 
 creased by it, while it is well known that the num- 
 ber of slaves annually shipped has not been dimi- 
 nished. Capt. Harris, an intelligent English officer, 
 extensively travelled in Africa, was sent there, spe- 
 cially commissioned by the British government, to 
 investigate the matter, and report the best method 
 of extinguishing the slave trade. The conclusion 
 which he has drawn from his personal knowledge 
 and extensive observations on this subject, is, that 
 the slave trade can never be suppressed ivhile the 
 barbarous and pagan spirit of Jlfrica herself is 
 in favour of it. The only remedy tliat he thinks 
 adapted to remove this evil permanently, is the ci- 
 vilization and Chris tianization of Jifrica herself 
 
240 SiCRMON X, 
 
 Armed squadrons, therefore, have no tendency to 
 promote so great a civil and moral transformation on 
 Africa, as are here contemplated. The Christian 
 philosopher needs not be informed that the combined 
 armadas of the world can never cure this, nor any- 
 other of the giant crimes and woes of the apostacy. 
 We must take Heaven's infallible panacea, ^'this 
 gospel of the kingdoTn,'' in all its benign and 
 blessed influences on man's mortal and immortal 
 interests and destinies. This is Africa's only hope 
 of a radical remedy, as it is that of all the rest of 
 the world that lieth in wickedness. It is a growing 
 conviction, even in irreligious minds, that if Africa 
 is to be saved from the perpetual desolations of 
 slavery and the slave trade, it must be by pervading 
 her w^ith the institutions of civilization and Christi- 
 anity. 
 
 Let the Christian world, then, awake and put 
 forth an earnest, persevering effort to cancel some 
 of its guilt in heretofore afflicting Africa, by send- 
 ing to her the glorious gospel in its divine power, 
 to pull down the strong holds of sin and Satan, and, 
 in its sweet, assuaging influence on the barbarous 
 passions of human nature, calming and purifying 
 the fountains of domestic, social, and political life, 
 
 till 
 
 " Lions and beasts of savage name 
 Put on the nature of the lamb." 
 
 IV. The long neglect of the Christian tvorld to 
 do any thing efficiently for the evangelization of 
 j3frica, gives her an urgent claim upon its spe- 
 cial efforts now. By what fatality the one hun- 
 dred and twenty, or one hundred and fifty millions 
 
lEHMON k. .241 
 
 of that darkened continent have been so long, and 
 to such an extent, excluded from the sympathies and 
 effective evangelical efforts of Christendom, is one 
 of the most unaccountable facts in the history of 
 Christian benevolence. The American Board of 
 Commissioners for Foreign Missions have between 
 five and six hundred missionaries and assistant mis- 
 sionaries amongst the heathen. Of this entire num- 
 ber but about twenty are located on the whole con- 
 tinent of Africa, and the date of their labours there 
 is quite recent. There are eighty-eight missiona- 
 ries and assistants in the Sandwich Islands, the 
 whole population of which is but one hundred and 
 twenty thousand — not one thousand to every mil- 
 lion in Africa. It is true, the striking mortality 
 amongst ivhite missionaries in that country has im- 
 posed a necessity of hesitating to risk life on a large 
 scale there. But the providence of God for twenty- 
 five years past has demonstrated that the civilized, 
 Christian coloui^ed man of this country can live and 
 labour for God, and for the souls of his pagan bre- 
 thren, in his father land. And yet the Christian 
 world has slept over the moral ruins, the madden- 
 ing woes, and the mournful destinies of the immor- 
 tal rnillions in Africa, wrapt in golden dreams re- 
 specting the great things being done for Greece, In- 
 dia, China, Persia, and the islands of the Southern 
 Ocean. Now, may not "the time past suffice" to 
 have wrought this folly and incurred this guilt of 
 shutting up our tender mercies from the most op- 
 pressed, wronged, injured, outraged, helpless, and 
 deplorable portion of the pagan world ? Do not our 
 delay and slumbers give a startling cm]ihasis to tlie 
 21 
 
242 SERMON X. 
 
 truth "that now it is high time to awake out of 
 sleep '' — to " cast ofT the works of darkness, and 
 put on the armour of light"— to bear the banner of 
 the cross, with its " seven stars," to benighted Afri- 
 ca — and to spring forward and reach forth our hands 
 to hold up those which Ethiopia has already stretched 
 out unto God? 
 
 V. and Lastly. — The encouragement to evan- 
 gelical effort which the providence of God in 
 planting and sustaining civilized and Christian 
 colonies on the coast now affords, gives Jifrica a 
 peculiar claim on the active benevolence of the 
 Christian world. It is admitted that till within a 
 comparatively recent period serious, if not insupera- 
 ble obstacles were to be encountered in the prose- 
 cution of Christian missions in Africa. During the 
 last four centuries numerous and repeated attempts 
 have been made, both by Roman Catholic and Pro- 
 testant missionaries, to establish themselves on the 
 western coast, and to locate permanently there the 
 institutions of Christianity. But all such attempts 
 proved utterly abortive till the era of the establish- 
 ment of civilized colonies. This is a matter of un- 
 doubted historical fact. That state of intense vice 
 and sanguinary barbarism which, till the close of 
 the last century, rendered it impossible to maintain 
 trading factories on the shore, and that made it un- 
 safe even to land a merchant-ship there, would ne- 
 cessarily involve perils to life and property too 
 formidable to be permanently encountered by any 
 degree of missionary zeal and courage. The self- 
 ishness and dishonesty, the treachery and rapacity, 
 the turbulent spirit and savage cruelty of the na- 
 
SERMON X. 243 
 
 lives, involved as they constantly were in extermi- 
 nating wars with each other, presented invincible 
 and hopeless barriers to the progress of the gospel 
 of peace amongst them. It was not surprising, 
 therefcu'e, that, as late as the close of the last cen- 
 tury, with the history of three or four hundred 
 years of disaster and defeat to missions in Africa, 
 Christendom should have paused in partial despon- 
 dency over her gloomy and appalling condition! 
 But since that time the providence of God has 
 fringed the edge of that dark cloud which then 
 overhung her with some rays of golden light. The 
 divine hand and counsel have been specially mani- 
 fested in planting and sustaining civilized and Chris- 
 tian colonies along the western coast, with all their 
 meliorating effects on the natives, and their protect- 
 ing and fostering influence on Christian missions. 
 
 Colonization is undeniably preparing the way 
 of the Lord in the wilderness of Africa. God would 
 seem to be pointing to this enterprise, by all the re- 
 cent facts in its history, as His approved method of 
 reaching forth and rendering permanent an effective 
 evangelical influence on that long and grossly ne- 
 glected land. The change in the social, civil, and 
 religious condition of those native tribes amongst 
 whom colonies have been located is well nigh in- 
 credible. The following is a brief but truthful 
 sketch of the colonies, and of what, under God, they 
 have already effected for the best interests of the 
 coloured race in their own land. It is from the pen 
 of a sober-minded, accurate, reliable author. He 
 remarks as follows: — 
 
 "Every such colony planted, still subsists; and 
 
244 SERMON X. 
 
 wherever its jurisdiction extends, has banished pi- 
 racy and the slave-trade- — extinguished domestic 
 slavery — put an end to human sacrifices and canni- 
 balism — established a constitutional civil govern- 
 ment, trial by jury, and the reign of law-^intro- 
 duced the arts, usages, and comforts of civilized life, 
 and imparted them to more or less of the natives — 
 established schools, built houses of worship, gathered 
 churches, sustained the preaching of the gospel, pro- 
 tected missionaries, and seen native converts received 
 to Christian' communion. Not a colony has been at- 
 tempted without leading to all these results. 
 
 "As witnesses, we show, in the colonies of Cape 
 Palmas, Liberia proper, Sierra Leone, and on the 
 Gambia, more than one hundred missionaries and 
 assistant missionaries, many of them of African de- 
 scent, and some of them native Africans, now en- 
 gaged in successful labours for the regeneration of 
 Africa. We show, as the fruits of their labours, more 
 than five thousand regular communicants in Chris- 
 tian churches, more than twelve thousand regular 
 attendants on the preaching of the gospel, and many 
 tens of thousands of natives perfectly accessible to 
 missionary labours. All this has been done since 
 the settlement of Sierra Leone in 17S7, and nearly 
 all since the settlement of Liberia in 1822.'' 
 
 In the coloiiiesof Liberia proper there are twenty- 
 three Christian churches, numbering about sixteen 
 or seventeen hundred communicants; of whom more 
 than Jive hundred are native converts. From ten 
 to fifteen thousand of the pagan tribes have thrown 
 away the distinctive badges of their superstition, 
 abandoned many of the usages of savage life and the 
 
SERMON X. 2^15 
 
 practice of idolatry, adopted the civilized costume 
 of the colonists, come voluntarily under the colonial 
 laws, and conformed to the externals of civilization 
 and Christianity, many of them attending puhlic 
 worship on the Sabbath in the colonial churches. 
 Gov. Roberts, of Liberia, states that in a tour of 
 more than two hundred miles into the interior of 
 Africa, he found manifest traces of colonial influ- 
 ence extending through the entire distance; that 
 there were individuals in every place where he 
 stopped who could speak the English language; 
 that the chiefs of the different tribes through which 
 he passed evinced the utmost eagerness to have 
 schools established amongst them, in which their 
 children might be taught the knowledge of the arts 
 of civilization and the truths of the Christian reli- 
 gion, and that " the head men '^ offered to erect 
 buildings and appropriate lands for the support of 
 these institutions. It is well known, also, that the 
 sons of chiefs, and of other distinguished natives, 
 have been sent a distance of three or four hundred 
 miles from the interior into the colony, to be edu- 
 cated. When they return into the deep shadows of 
 their native forests, and the deeper moral gloom of 
 their pagan homes, they carry with them the torch- 
 lights of civilization and Christianity, to send some 
 cheering rays athwart the surrounding and hitherto 
 unbroken darkness. Thus the providence of God, 
 by originating and giving success to the enterprise 
 of colonization, is opening a new door of hope to 
 despairing Africa, and furnishing new facilities and 
 ample encouragement to enlarged and vigorous evan- 
 gelic labours in her behalf. It may be added, too, 
 2r 
 
246 SERMON X. 
 
 that notwithstanding the intense vice and savage 
 degradation of the natives on the coast, and the 
 gloomy and base superstition and idolatry of those 
 in the interior, yet there are three striking points 
 of encouragement to missionary labour in Africa, 
 not found in most other heathen countries. 
 
 " First, then, they have no national religion, or re- 
 ligious establishment. Where this exists it opposes 
 a formidable obstacle to the gospel, however absurd 
 may be the superstition so established; for the secu- 
 lar interests of the priesthood urge them to resist 
 any change of the national religion, and they neces- 
 sarily possess great influence with the people. The 
 missionary must, under such circumstances, expect 
 to encounter hate and persecution proportioned to 
 the danger with which the religion he teaches threat- 
 ens the priests. 
 
 "Secondly. In Africa the kings and their official 
 functionaries lose no secular advantages by embracing 
 Christianity. On the contrary, they are even raised 
 by it in the estimation of their heathen countrymen. 
 In many, and, perhaps, in nearly all other heathen 
 countries, to embrace Christianity is to become ob- 
 noxious to priestly revenge, to popular hate and 
 civil oppression. 
 
 " Thirdly. The Africans already look upon the 
 white man as their superior, and hence desire to 
 imitate him. The very ability to read and write 
 gives dignity and importance to a coloured man 
 among them, and they express their admiration by 
 calling him a white man. It would follow, of course, 
 that they embrace every opportunity to place their 
 children in the schools where it is proposed to teach 
 them to read and write." 
 
SERMON X. 
 
 247 
 
 Such are the encouragements to Christian eflbrt 
 for Africa which the providence of God, especially 
 in estahlishing and sustaining civilized colonies 
 there, now presents. With~so well tested and prac- 
 ticable a method, and with such ample facilities for 
 the spread of the gospel as the scheme of coloniza- 
 tion aflbrds, and as the success already attending it 
 demonstrates, why should not darkened Africa soon 
 be made ''all light in the Lord?'^ How can the 
 Christian world answer it to God, or to their suc- 
 cessors in the church, if they neglect longer to put 
 forth the most vigorous and persevering efforts for 
 Africa's redemption through this medium of colo- 
 nization, pointed out by the finger of God, and sig- 
 nalized and sanctioned by a success explicable only 
 on the assumption of his divine and fostering inter- 
 position in its behalf? Shall the wretched inhabi- 
 tants continue to sit in the region and shadow of 
 death, and to sink from it annually by millions into 
 " the blackness of darkness for ever,'' when God, 
 by his providence, is demonstrating that the light 
 of life may be radiated over the extent of Africa by 
 civilized and Christian colonies on her coast? 
 
 These are questions in which you, my Christian 
 friends, and the whole Christian community, have 
 a deep personal interest. They relate to serious 
 matters involved in your present duty, as individu- 
 als, towards a large, injured, suffering, hitherto ne- 
 glected portion of your heathen fellow men. God 
 has opened a channel through which your benefi- 
 cence can flow and overflow till it shall have reached 
 the remotest wilderness in Africa, and made it to 
 bud and blossom as the rose. Will you assist in 
 
248 SERMON X. 
 
 keeping this channel open? — and will you augment 
 that stream which has already well nigh covered 
 three hundred miles of once barren coast with plants, 
 and flowers, and fruits of righteousness befitting the 
 garden of God? This method of evangelical effort, 
 feeling its way into the darkness of Africa, and re- 
 taining its foothold there through the colonies on 
 her coast, is commended to the confidence of the 
 Christian world now by its own already realized 
 results. \i IS the only practicable ?net hod as yet 
 discovered of furnishing the protection and facilities 
 for that augmented number of labourers, and those 
 extensive and permanent missionary enterprises and 
 efforts, which will bear some just proportion to the 
 moral exigencies of that vast continent. It is too 
 late now to make it a quCvStion whether the success 
 of modern missions in Africa has not been, under 
 God, mainly suspended on the direct and indirect 
 influence of these colonies. History has now re- 
 corded this as one of her sober, indisputable veri- 
 ties. The fact that colonization has a secular and 
 political aspect is no objection to it as a medium 
 through which to send the blessings of civilization 
 and Christianity to Africa. Let it be remembered 
 that its secular and political relations bear with be- 
 nign effect on the temporal interests and destinies 
 of the coloured people of this country, and contem- 
 plate their intellectual, social, and civil elevation in 
 circumstances unimpeded by prejudice and privi- 
 leged competition, and are intended to confer on 
 them the advantages and immunities of a wise and 
 well-ordered republican government. Indeed, these 
 relations and bearings of colonization ought to com- 
 
SERMON X. 249 
 
 mend it to all the Christian patriots of this great 
 American republic, as the medium of blessing Africa 
 with the gospel. 
 
 The establishment of the commonwealth of Li- 
 beria is the first attempt by the citizens of this coun- 
 try to plant in a foreign land the peculiar institutions 
 of their own. This fact is fraught with thrilling in- 
 terest to the enlightened American statesman, and 
 is one of bright auguries to Africa and the African 
 race. Jt would seem as though that which the scrip- 
 tures notice as a truth in the natural history of the 
 parent eagle, is now metaphorically true of our na- 
 tional eagle — " She stirreth up her nest, fluttereth 
 over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh 
 them, beareth them upon her wings.^' Ours has 
 taken its Jirstling and set him upon the heights of 
 Cape Mesurado, to mount thence on his circling 
 ascent towards the sun, and to shed from his wings 
 the blessings of republican liberty on Africa. And 
 why should not this prove, in addition to the urgent 
 claims of Africa herself, a powerful incentive to 
 every American Christian to make such a political 
 community on the coast the medium through which 
 to spread that glorious gospel whose Dove mounts 
 on a loftier flight and on purer wings than eagles', 
 bearing in its beak the olive-branch of proflered 
 peace from Heaven to man, and diffusing, from every 
 point along its upward, shining way, the light and 
 infinite blessings of that "liberty wherewith Christ 
 maketh free?'^ 
 
250 SERMON xr. 
 
 SERMON XL 
 
 "And they sung a new song." — Rev. v. 9. 
 
 The book of Revelation is strikingly distinguish- 
 ed from other parts of the inspired volume. Other 
 portions, both of the Old and New Testaments, con- 
 tain the history, biography, and prophecy, that per- 
 tain to earth. The dealings of God with the pa- 
 triarchs, His providence over the ancient Church, 
 the illustrious examples of piety that have figured in 
 the moral history of the race, the preparation for and 
 introduction of tiie Messiah — his life, miracles and 
 doctrines, the precepts of his gospel, the moral con- 
 dition of man, and his ultimate destiny, together with 
 the predictions of the final and universal triumphs of 
 Christianity, as imbodied in the New Testament 
 form in the world, these are the principal topics on 
 which all the other portions of divine revelation 
 treat. But the Book from which our text is taken, 
 dwells more on the brighter, and blessed economy 
 of heaven. It carries us beyond the limits of earth, 
 and the close of time. It draws aside the veil of the 
 eternal future, and gives us a distant view of the great 
 metropolis of "The King of kings, and Lord of 
 lords." The spacious city, its resplendent walls and 
 pearly gates, and streets of pure transparent gold, 
 its whole scenery and sunlight, its holy hosts innu- 
 merable, in all their triumphs and infmortal raptures 
 
SERMON XI. 251 
 
 of bliss, break upon our awed, yet delighted vision ! 
 The beloved disciple had his mental (perhaps his 
 hodily) eye supernaturally assisted to penetrate far 
 into the wonders, and the glories of that mysterious 
 realm which we call heaven ! He saw its multitude 
 of sublime orders of being, he noticed their employ- 
 ment, he heard the accents of their eternal hosan- 
 nahs, he witnessed their exalted worship, their pro- 
 found adoration, the glow and seraphic ardour of 
 their love to God, and most of all does he seem to 
 be struck and captivated by the fact which he an- 
 nounces in our text, "And they sung a new song." 
 What must have been the emotions of the exiled 
 Apostle in the solitude of Patmos as he listened to 
 this far off celestial strain ! How overwhelming to 
 the ear, and the heart of a mortal its divine accents! 
 To him in his lonely longings to be with Christ, any 
 song sung by heaven's hosts in the halls, and be- 
 neath the dome of God's temple above, would have 
 an ineffable charm. But it seems they had one 
 which had all the blissful excitement of a holy and 
 sublime novelty. We seem to catch something of 
 the overpowering emotions of the beloved disciple, 
 as the numbers of this song fell on his ear, and thrill- 
 ed through all the chords of his soul! We can ima- 
 gine with what exhilaration and emphasis he makes 
 the declaration, "And they sung a new song!'' 
 
 The object of this discourse shall be to show in 
 what respects this is a new song. 
 
 I. The THEME of this song is new, it stands alone, 
 there is none like it amidst all the themes of earth 
 and heaven. The theme is revealed to us, in con- 
 nexion with the text. It is not necessary to invoke 
 
252 SERMON XL 
 
 the aidiof fancy or conjecture, to ascertain what was 
 the burden of this wondrous song. On this point 
 let us hear with reverence the following utterance of 
 the divine oracles: "And I saw on the right hand 
 of him that sat on the throne, a book written with- 
 in, and on the back-side, sealed with seven seals. 
 And I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a loud 
 voice. Who is worthy to open the book, and to loose 
 the seals thereof? And no man in heaven, nor in 
 earth, neither under the earth, was able to open the 
 book, neither to look thereon. And I wept much 
 because no man was found worthy to open and to 
 read the book, neither to look thereon. And one of 
 the elders saith unto me. Weep not ; behold the Lion 
 of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, hath pre- 
 vailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals 
 thereof. And I beheld, and lo, in the midst of the 
 throne, and of the four beasts, and in the midst of 
 the elders, stood a Lamb as it had been slain, having 
 seven heads, and ten horns, and seven eyes, which 
 are the seven Spirits of God sent forth into all the 
 earth. And he came and took the book out of the 
 right hand of him that sat upon the throne. And 
 when he had taken the book, the four beasts, and 
 four and twenty elders fell down before the Lamb, 
 having every one of them harps, and golden vials full 
 of odours, which are the prayers of saints. And they 
 sung a new song, saying. Thou art worthy to take 
 the book and to open the seals thereof; for thou wast 
 slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out 
 of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and na- 
 tion." " The book" mentioned in these verses, is 
 thought to represent the glorious counsels and pur- 
 
SERMON XI. 253 
 
 poses of Jehovah, respecting the future destinies of 
 men under the mediatorial reign of Christ on earth, 
 and the consummation of his kingdom in heaven. 
 No creature therefore, however exalted his nature 
 or station, could open that hook, or loose its seven 
 seals. No created eye could even look into it. How 
 deep the counsels of the infinite God ! This book, 
 fraught with the fates of men, and the glorious for- 
 tunes of Messiah's empire, would have for ever re- 
 mained sealed, had not one been found who was wor- 
 thy and every way competent to take it "out of the 
 right hand of Him that sat upon the throne," and to 
 loose its awful seals. There is a profound signifi- 
 cancy in that affirmation of Christ, — "No man hath 
 seen God at any time; the only begotten Son which 
 is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared 
 him.^\ With all the vast and immortal interests in- 
 volved in the opening of this book, and the disclo- 
 sure of its stupendous contents to man, this world, 
 and the whole dominions of God, probably, would 
 have remained ignorant of its revelations, had it not 
 been for the Lamb that was slain. None but He 
 was capable of disclosing the fixed and great laws of 
 God's administration, over the Church and over all 
 the intelligent universe. They are represented here 
 as written in a book, to indicate their uniformit}'^ and 
 stability. Now you will observe that it is the infi- 
 nite excellencies of Jesus Christ, as the great organ 
 of communication between God and man, the ex- 
 pounder of "the deep things" of the divine admi- 
 nistration over the church, which constitutes the 
 theme of this song. Is it not a new theme? None 
 ever did or ever will, share the honors of Christ's 
 22 
 
254 SERMON XI. 
 
 position and power in this respect. He stands alone 
 in the peerless dignity and glory of being worthy 
 to take the closed book of Jehovah's purposes, and 
 loose its seals. All the holy creation see and feel 
 the commanding grandeur of his act in taking from 
 the right hand of Him that sat upon the throne, that 
 mysterious book. They know what great interests 
 of the divine empire are to be promoted by loosing 
 its seals. What glory is to be reflected on God and 
 what good to accrue to the moral creation from this 
 development of the deep counsels of God, and the 
 great and fixed principles of his providence, over the 
 church and the world. And as they gaze on and 
 admire, and adore the Lamb that was slain, they 
 string their harps, and tune their celestial voices, and 
 break forth into singing, " Thou art worthy to take 
 the book, and loose the seals thereof.'^ 
 
 What a new theme for the song of heaven ; the 
 dignity, the worth, the glory of Jesus Christ as he 
 unfolds the purposes and grand principles of Jeho- 
 vah's administration over the church. Amidst the 
 eternal hallelujahs of heaven, there never had been, 
 and there never will be a theme like this. For there 
 is but One Mediator between God and man, but One 
 great Expounder of his infinite counsels, hut one 
 book of eternal decrees, and but One worthy to take 
 that book and loose the seals ; and his act in doing 
 this will be celebrated for ever, in a new song iso- 
 lated from all the other praises of eternity. 
 
 II. This song is new in respect to the vast num- 
 bers that cordially join in it. It is but a limited 
 number that can engage in singing together on earth. 
 Beyond a few thousands, at most, it becomes physi- 
 
SERMON XI. 255 
 
 cally impossible to participate in this exercise. But 
 the music of heaven is written on a far different scale. 
 The infinite God has made arrangements there for 
 numbers, and harmony, of which at present we can 
 form no conception. The beloved disciple had an awe- 
 inspiring view of the vast mullitude who sang this 
 new song. Hear his thrilling description of the ce- 
 lestial choir: *^And I beheld and heard the voice of 
 many angels round about the throne, and the beasts, 
 and the elders ; and the number of them was ten 
 thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thou- 
 sands." These numbers are evidently employed, not 
 to designate the precise number engaged in this 
 heavenly song, but to convey an overwhelming im- 
 pression of the vastness of the multitude. We have 
 a similar phraseology in one of the psalms, where it 
 is said, " The chariots of God are twenty thousand 
 even" (or many) " thousands of angels." The Scrip- 
 tures clearly intimate that the number of those be- 
 ings called angels is very great. In addition to all 
 these, the apostle mentions other orders of the 
 heavenly world as engaged in this song; "the beasts," 
 or living beings, too mighty to receive a name in 
 mortal language, and the elders, another order of ce- 
 lestial existences. Novv these alone would constitute 
 an inconceivably great number whose voices are uni- 
 ted in tills song. But in addition to all these, we 
 know that all the redeemed from amongst men are 
 part, also, of that grand choir. Every adult of the 
 human race, from righteous Abel to the last spirit of 
 the just made perfect in glory, swells this number. 
 And we must add to these again, as we seem to be 
 authorized to do, both from the implications of scrip- 
 
256 SERMON XI. 
 
 ture and the general principles of benevolence, all 
 the infant population of our globe that have died be- 
 fore the age of accountability. Now if bills of mor- 
 tality may be credited, nearly two-thirds of all past 
 generations have died in infancy. What myriads of 
 in/ant voices swell the rich harmonies of this new 
 song! ! with what a tender and mournfully en- 
 dearing interest does this thought invest the music 
 of heaven. Christian parents, have you lost from 
 earth, in their infanc}^, the dear objects of your pa- 
 rental affection ? Through the blood of the Lamb, 
 they are all gathered round about the throne, happy 
 songsters in heaven ! Thei/ form a part of that innu- 
 merable host, whose voices give accent to the strains 
 of the new song in glory ! Now in dilating our 
 thoughts to embrace in one assemblage all the angels, 
 all the mighty and nameless living beings, all the 
 elders, all the adults that have been redeemed from 
 amongst men, and all of our race that have died in 
 infancy, our minds are utterly overmatched with the 
 conception of the vast numbers engaged in that ce- 
 lestial song! Surely it is new in respect to the un- 
 numbered and innumerable myriads that utter its 
 immortal harmonies. But after these untold myri- 
 ads had sung the first strain with a loud voice, saying, 
 "Thou art worthy to take the book and loose the 
 seals thereof,'' then the beloved disciple tells us who 
 joined with them in the grand chorus of this new 
 and wonderful song: "And ever 1/ creature which 
 is in heaven, and on earth, and under the earth, and 
 such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, heard 
 I saying. Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power 
 be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the 
 
SERMON XI. 257 
 
 Lamb for ever and ever!" The wide universe of 
 being, rational and irrational, is here personified and 
 represented as participating in this song, for it cele- 
 brates the matchless worth of him who takes the 
 book and looses the seals, and unfolds the great and 
 eternal laws of that benevolent and all-coraprehen- 
 sive providence, which encircles every being, and 
 extends its care to the insect of an hour, not less 
 than to the cherub in his immortality before the 
 throne. What must be the music of such a song ! ! 
 
 That is a beautiful, though perhaps wholly fanci- 
 ful, speculation of philosophers, which supposes that 
 the revolutions of the multitudes of worlds, in the 
 immensity of space, create sounds, which they call 
 " the music of the spheres." But were this true, and 
 did such music of mighty maternal worlds, actually 
 exist, what would it be compared with the vast num- 
 bers, the high intelligence, the lofty theme, and the 
 holy emotions which give character and emphasis 
 to the music of this new song? What is the num- 
 ber of all worlds, compared with the number of all 
 God^s creatures — for 
 
 " Tke ichole creation join in one, 
 To bless the sacred name, 
 Of Him that sits upon tlie throne, 
 And to adore the Lamb." 
 
 God has made the universe vocal, all creatures in 
 all worlds shall have an utterance, for once at least, 
 to swell the strains and give accent to this divine 
 song. In respect to the vast, the almost infinite 
 numbers united in singing its sweet celestial harmo- 
 nies, this is a new song, even amidst the unceasing 
 hosannahs of heaven. 
 
 22* 
 
258 SERMON XI. 
 
 III. There Is a divine novelty also in this song, from 
 the fact that its harmonies are absolutely perfect. 
 Comparatively few voices on earth can be so com- 
 bined as to form a complete harmony. And were 
 the organs of vocalization so nearly alike, and the 
 various parts sft carefully balanced as to give promise 
 of the best music possible, in our present condition, 
 yet the emotions or states of the singers' minds would 
 necessarily be so various, as to interfere with a full 
 and perfect harmony; for it is a well ascertained 
 fact, that the particular state of the mind greatly in- 
 fluences the voice. Hence, the tones of grief, love, 
 anger, and certain other emotions are peculiar, and 
 easily distinguished. It would indeed be a new 
 song on earth, were one sung by any considerable 
 number of voices in perfect harmony. But the song 
 contemplated in our text, z^ new in this respect, that 
 notwithstanding the myriads of diflerent orders of 
 beings engaged in it, its harmony is absolutely per- 
 fect. Not one discordant note in all the parts. 
 Every mind is filled with precisely the same emo- 
 tions, supreme love, adoration, and praise to the 
 Lamb that was slain. No sin is there to unstring 
 the heart and put it out of tune, no baleful passion to 
 ruffle the mind, and communicate harshness to the 
 voice, no rivalry amongst the heavenly choir to re- 
 press the full-toned utterance of praise and love, no 
 sorrows to sadden the soul, and extort from it the 
 wail of wo, no fears to damp the divine ardours of the 
 spirit and give tremulousness to the voice, no do- 
 mestic discord to mar the peaceful flow of sound, no 
 wars nor rumours of wars to embroil and agitate the 
 vast multitudes engaged in this song, no frown of 
 
SERMON XT. 259 
 
 Gotl to dim their cheerful sunlight, no wave of death 
 to chill one heart, or silence one harp of the innu- 
 merable throng, no sigh, no sob, no groan to mingle 
 with this song, or mar its heavenly numbers. Its 
 harmonies are absolutely perfect. The listening ear 
 of God detects no discord. Its sweet accents rise on 
 the air of heaven undisturbed, as though uttered by 
 a single voice, and roll along the track of eternal 
 years in unbroken harmony ! It is a new song; the 
 only one ever sung by so countless a host of various 
 orders of being, and yet preserving a harmony be- 
 fitting the music of Jehovah's sanctuary on high! 
 
 IV. It is a new song, because it celebrates the 
 union and coincidence of the great ends attained 
 by the law and the gospel, it is ^' the song of Moses 
 and the LambP The taking this book, and the 
 opening its seals, disclosed those wise and wonderful 
 counsels, by which God was working out, both in the 
 old dispensation and the new, the same stupendous 
 and eternal results of glory to himself, and good to 
 man. And yet when we gather round Mount Sinai, 
 and witness the darkness, and tempest, and thunder- 
 ings, and the voice of words, and the sound of the 
 trumpet waxing louder and louder, and hear the 
 stern, uncompromising commands, and the certain 
 and fearful denunciations of the law, and then go to 
 Calvary, and witness its mysteries of gloom and of 
 glory, hear the voice of love and mercy proclaiming 
 pardon, wooing, with an eloquence divine, the guilty 
 wanderer back to God the Saviour, pleading with 
 him to repent and believe, and promising the remis- 
 sion of sins, and the joys of salvation here, and the 
 bliss and the glories of an eternal heaven hereafter, we 
 
260 SERMON XI. 
 
 do not at once see how these two systems, the law and 
 the gospel, can coincide and co-operate in the attain- 
 ment of those great ends that are celebrated in the 
 new song of heaven. But such a coincidence does 
 exist, and give a peculiar emphasis to that song. The 
 law reveals the character of God in his irreconcila- 
 ble hatred of sin, and his inflexible determination to 
 punish it. The gospel in the sacrifice of the Lamb 
 that was slain, magnifies the law in this respect, and 
 makes it honourable, deepening the impression, the 
 very same impression, of the character of God made 
 by the law. The law by its eternal sanctions brings 
 a powerful restraint on the depravity of man, and 
 takes strong hold on the conscience. The precepts 
 of the gospel, pointing to the blood of the Lamb as 
 the expression of God^s estimate of the magnitude 
 and malignity of sin, (for which this blood is the only 
 adequate atonement,) enhances the power of those 
 restraints imposed by the law, and awakens new 
 fears of transgressing whilst it proclaims, "If these 
 things be done in the green tree, what shall be done 
 in the dry!" The law convicts of sin, arraigns and 
 condemns the sinner, and cuts him ofi'from all hopes 
 of atoning for its violation by any subsequent good 
 works. At this point where the law leaves him 
 alone in his guilt and condemnation, "the glorious 
 gospel of the blessed God" comes to him with the 
 atoning blood of his well beloved Son, with a justi- 
 fying righteousness all complete, with sovereign 
 mercy and grace, the influences of the Holy Spirit 
 to regenerate him, the favour of God to adopt him into 
 his great family, and all the grand appliances of the 
 scheme of redemption to eflect his ultimate and eter- 
 
SERMON XT. 261 
 
 nal salvation. And after his submission, and peni- 
 tence, and faith, and adoption, both the precepts of 
 the law and the gospel take the control of all his 
 actions, and become, under the application of the Holy 
 Spirit, a great instrument of his sanctification and 
 meetness for heaven. " Do we make void the law 
 through faitii? God forbid." There is a most glori- 
 ous coincidence and co-operation between the law and 
 the gospel, in effecting those far-reaching and benevo- 
 lent results, at which God aims in his administrations 
 of providence and grace over the world. But this 
 wonderful coincidence and co-operation, are never 
 fully seen and appreciated here. It is the vast mul- 
 titude engaged in the new song of heaven, whose 
 piercing vision enables them to penetrate into the 
 deep things of the divine administration, and to see 
 how the very same great moral results are effected 
 by the united action of the law and the gospel. 
 They see those results perfected, and in all their 
 magnitude and celestial grandeur. Hence, to cele- 
 brate the wisdom of Christ in making these two ap- 
 parently opposite systems work together for the 
 attainment of ends vast as the manifestations of Je- 
 hovah's glory and the eternal happiness of redeemed 
 millions, becomes a part of their immortal song. It 
 is a new song, then, because it celebrates the excel- 
 lencies and perfection of that very law, with which 
 sinners in this world, and the world of wo, are 
 maintaining a most deadly quarrel, and recognises its 
 coincidence with the blessed gospel in effecting the 
 grand purposes of God's government in the happi- 
 ness of the universe. 
 
 V. It is a new song, because it celebrates com- 
 
262 SERMON XI. 
 
 PLETED redemption. This is the very point of the 
 reason assigned in our text, why Christ was worthy 
 to take the book and loose its seals. "And they sung 
 a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the 
 book and open the seals thereof, for Thou wast 
 slain, and hast redeemed us to God, by Thy blood, 
 out of every kindred and tongue, and people, and 
 nation ; and hast made us unto our God kings, and 
 priests, and we shall reign on the earth." Here the 
 price of redemption, the precious blood of Christ, 
 and that redemption consummated in heaven, are 
 presented as the burden of this new and wondrous 
 song. And this constitutes it a new song, for no 
 such event as finished salvation is celebrated any 
 where but in heaven. The song of redeeming grace, 
 is in one sense new, and it is sung here by the soul 
 in the first joys of its conversion. But it celebrates 
 only the commencem.ent of the reign of Christ in 
 the heart. It is the song that animates to the con- 
 flict, and urges to spiritual attainment, not the tri- 
 umphant strains of victory and full fruition. Its 
 sweet notes are often interrupted by the groans of a 
 captivity to the law of sin and death. Its music is 
 often exchanged for the voice of lamentation over 
 the remaining depravity of the heart. The occasion- 
 al prevalence of temptation and sin, the trials and 
 sorrows of life, and the hardships of the Christian 
 warfare, often for a season suspend it altogether. It 
 is a "song in the night" of the Christian's pilgrim- 
 age, a song inspired more by the hope of what is yet 
 future, than by what is already in possession. It 
 celebrates the conquest of sovereign grace over the 
 heart, and the occasional victories gained over the 
 
SERMON XI. 263 
 
 world, the flesh, and the Devil, as the Christian ad- 
 vances in the divine life; yet, as already intimated, 
 its sweetest accents refer to what he hopes to be, and 
 to enjoy in the future. Widely different from this is 
 the song spoken of in our text. It celebrates com- 
 pleted redemption. It looks back from heaven to 
 Calvary to catch its glowing inspirations from the 
 blood that was shed there, and to sing the present, 
 completed triumphs of the great atonement. ^' For 
 Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by 
 Thy blood." The blessed work is actually com- 
 pleted, " it is finished,^^ The temptations, trials, 
 conflicts, sorrows, and separations from God that 
 mark this state of probation, are all past and gone 
 for ever. Sin has lost entirely its long waning do- 
 minion in the soul. Death's work on all that was 
 mortal in the Christian is over. He has left this in- 
 constant world with its alternate light and shade, its 
 conflicting hopes and fears, far and for ever behind. 
 The process of his sanctification so long in progress 
 by the working together of all things for his good, 
 is novv perfected. Without spot, blameless and un- 
 reprovable in love before God, he now stands behold- 
 ing Jesus as he is, and being like Him, his redemp- 
 tion fully consummated. This is the mighty theme 
 of all the unnumbered multitudes redeemed out of 
 every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation. 
 They sing the wonders, the ineffable glories, of their 
 perfected salvation! All that God had promised, 
 and more than hope ever grasped, they now realize. 
 They sing not of bright, though distant anticipations. 
 They utter their own present blissful experience of 
 finished redemption through the blood of the Lamb. 
 
264 SERMON %L 
 
 What a blissful song! Is it not new? Is there 
 any thing like it sung by the inhabitants of any other 
 world, in God's wide dominions ? Not only finished 
 redemption, redemption terminating in the eternal 
 transports of a soul made perfect in holiness, and 
 presented before God, but a redemption wrought 
 out by the travail and tragic agony of Him who was 
 slain, and purchased it with his own precious blood. 
 
 What wonder that the notes of such a song burst- 
 ing on the air of heaven, should be borne down to 
 earth, and greet the ear of the exiled disciple amidst 
 the solitude of that desert isle, whither, for the testi- 
 mony of Jesus, he was banished! "And they sung 
 a new song," new, because it couples the atonement 
 of Calvary with the perfected salvation of the just in 
 heaven, and celebrates the splendid achievements of 
 the second Adam over all the tremendous ruins of 
 the first. grant that my soul may kindle with the 
 raptures of that song, and my voice yet mingle in its 
 sublime harmonies, I ask no heaven besides!! 
 
 VI. And lastly — It is a new song, because, unlike 
 all others, if will never end. That high-wrought 
 emotion which gives birth to poetry and music, con- 
 stitutes a state of mind so far above its ordinary 
 level, that, in the nature of the case, it cannot last 
 long. The human voice also, in the present state, is 
 incapable of any very protracted exercise. Even 
 the sweetest song of the Christian, while here below^, 
 must soon be brought to a close. There is no joyous 
 melody on earth, but is short-lived. In this, as well 
 as in other respects, " the fashion of this world 
 passeth away." The ear is scarcely greeted and 
 gladdened by the charms of song, till the sound dies 
 
SERMON XL 265 
 
 away, and is remembered only as a dream. How 
 different is the new song of heaven ! All the voices 
 engaged in it, are immoi'tal. The hearts in which 
 the melodies of that song are made, are strong iin- 
 dying hearts. The theme of that song is change- 
 less, and everlasting. The bliss of that song is a 
 permanent part of the bliss of heaven. The utter- 
 ance of its rich and flowing harmonies, is by that 
 "voice of many waters," whose tides shall never 
 ebb, but rise and roll onward with an accumulating 
 swell by a fixed law of the celestial economy. He 
 to whom its lofty praises are directed, "liveth and 
 reigneth for ever." His excellencies which it cele- 
 brates, are immutable and eternal. Why then should 
 such a song ever cease ? It never will, for it is said 
 of those who constitute the grand orchestra of heaven, 
 and peal forth the rapturous melodies of that song, 
 that " they rest not day nor night." They have 
 minds capable of sustaining for ever the mighty emo- 
 tions that give birth to its poetry and its music. 
 They have voices that know no fatigue by incessant 
 exercise. They have an atmosphere to perpetuate 
 its sounds, which no storms ever agitate, and an ear 
 to listen to its holy strains, that can never grow 
 weary or dull. This song then stands alone and 
 new in this respect, that it will be eternal. It began 
 long since, and has never suffered the diminution of 
 one voice that was ever engaged in its sweet accents. 
 Each redeemed spirit, as it enters heaven, catches the 
 inspiration and re-echoes the strain. And, after the 
 judgment of the great day, when the ultimate order 
 of God's administration over the holy shall be set- 
 tled for ever, this new song will receive a new em- 
 23 
 
266 SERMON XL 
 
 phasis, and a new impulse, and the vast universe will 
 take it up then as the grand hallelujah chorus to 
 Him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb, 
 " world without end.'* 
 
 The practical inference most obviously deducible 
 from this subject is, that God reveals this new song 
 of heaven to our world, to allure his people to 
 awake and prepare now for participating soon 
 hereafter in its blissful numbers. Dear Christian 
 friends, have we a state of heart at present that is 
 gladdened by the distant notes of this song, and that 
 leads us to long for the hour when, away from the 
 turmoil and discord of earth, we shall join its exalted 
 strains? 0! are we living in such communion with 
 God, in such fervours of love to the Saviour, in such 
 a spirit of importunate prayer, with such a zeal for 
 the glory of God, such compassion for souls, such 
 holy longings for the purity and the bliss of heaven, 
 that we are ready, waiting, eager to seize our golden 
 harps and tune our voices for this new song? Would 
 to God we were, for then would our captivity be 
 turned, our desolations repaired, and we be girded 
 anew for all the noble doings and darings of Chris- 
 tian heroism in the good fight of faith. Yes, "the 
 joy of the Lord is the strength of his people." The 
 music of heaven is the true martial inspiration for 
 our spiritual warfare. Think not, my hearers, that I 
 have presented this subject to you, merely to gratify 
 that instinctive love that we possess, to hear glowing 
 descriptions of the bliss of heaven, or for the purpose 
 of employing your imaginations in vague excursions 
 through those beatific realms revealed to the faith, 
 and compassed as a vivid reality by the hopes of the 
 
SERMON XT. 267 
 
 devout Christian. No, I have presented it under a 
 deep conviction, that Christians not only lose much 
 comfort, but are often greatly dispirited and dis- 
 qualified for the battlings of the good soldier, by not 
 fixing the eye of faith more frequently' and steadfast- 
 ly on the bright and glorious scenes of an eternal 
 heaven. How different the impulse to every duty, 
 how diflerent the support in every trial, and the 
 courage in every conflict derived from the shinings 
 of an opening heaven, and the song of its glad ho- 
 sannahs, compared with the influence of mere habit, 
 slavish fear, or cold convictions of the judgment, 
 or understanding ! Believe me, my Christian friends, 
 should God in his providence place and hold you, 
 by a precarious state of health, for a length of time 
 in the vicinity of the eternal world, and should he 
 rouse your faith to grasp its invisible realities, and 
 should he graciously brighten your hopes of an un- 
 fading crown, and an everlasting kingdom in heaven, 
 you will then be able to appreciate the emphatic 
 truth of the declaration, that no impulsive power for 
 good ever gathers such energies on the human soul, 
 as that derived from a bright and assured hope of 
 glory. ! to mount as on wings of eagles above 
 the clouds and noise of earth, to have our vision 
 filled and glowing with the resplendent objects of 
 that upper world, our ear greeted with its songs and 
 shouts of victory, and our hearts melted and dilated 
 with the infinite ardours of its love, then would we 
 be fitted for those heroic deeds of faith, and those 
 holy triumphs of Christian hope that will bring us 
 off* more than conquerors from the great spiritual 
 battle-field of our probation, more than victors over 
 death and the grave. 
 
268 SERMON XII. 
 
 SERMON XII. 
 
 "But one sinner destroyeth much good." — Ec. ix. 18. 
 
 The influence which a certain description of mo- 
 ral character exerts on the world, is a subject of 
 deep and thrilling interest. That God should have 
 permitted human beings to exercise so great a con- 
 trol over each other's allotments here, and their des- 
 tinies hereafter, is one of the inexplicable things in 
 the present economy. That there should be such 
 importance as the Scriptures attach to the character, 
 and such remote and incalculable consequences con- 
 nected with the actions of so limited a creature as 
 man, seems almost incredible. Hence, the good 
 man is often prone to think that if he have faith, it 
 is literally " to himself and God " alone — that his 
 character as a Christian is connected with no results 
 other than those which he shall experience in his 
 own individual case, either in this or in his future 
 life. But, in the verses preceding the text, the 
 gifted and divinely inspired Solomon corrects this 
 misapprehension, and shows that "wisdom" — that 
 is, true piety — " is better than weapons of war." 
 He drew this inference from a fact which he had 
 previously stated, namely, that a city had been de- 
 livered from a most appalling siege by the wisdom 
 or piety of '^ one poor man!^' We have thus the 
 grave truth disclosed to us, that in the wonderful 
 
 i 
 
SERMON XII. 269 
 
 scheme of God's government over the world results 
 far beyond the most splendid triumphs of military 
 prowess or the combined force of physical appli- 
 ance can spring from the character and conduct of 
 one obscure righteous man. Therefore " wisdom is 
 better than weapons of war." But it is the sinner 
 in his career of crime who feels least responsibility 
 for the consequences of his conduct. Indeed, that 
 very thoiighllessness which cannot be made to pause 
 and consider the influence and issues of his actions 
 is one of the most characteristic traits of the sin- 
 ner. What task more hopeless than to attempt to 
 infix upon his soul the conviction that with every 
 step he takes in sin, there may be disastrous results 
 which shall yet spread themselves out, wide as the 
 world he now inhabits, and be as enduring as the 
 eternity to which he hastens! Make the attempt, 
 and the sinner will tell you with the utmost candour 
 that he means nothing by his wickedness — that he 
 has no disposition to harm one of human kind or to 
 spread mischief and misery in the empire of God ; 
 nor can he believe, that he, only one of nine hun- 
 dred millions of men could, were he to try, do much 
 injury to the cause of virtue and happiness in the 
 world. His practical language is — " many sinners 
 do not destroy much good." But a greater than he 
 hath said in our text — '* One sinner destroyeth 
 much good." '^ Destroyeth much good" — not 
 may destroy — the declaration is both positive and 
 absolute. He is not only capacitated to destroy, 
 but does actually destroy much good. This he 
 does either by his character and habitual conduct 
 counteracting those causes operating to produce 
 23* 
 
270 SERMON XII. 
 
 good, or by putting in train directly those causes 
 that will eventuate in the production of immense 
 mischief. The consideration of a few great general 
 principles in the moral philosophy of fallen man, 
 will illustrate and prove the truth of our text. 
 
 I. ^11 the relations of man in the present world 
 are so arranged as to advance him from a less 
 to a greater degree of virtue^ if he is righteous, or 
 of vice, if he is an habitual sinner. This arrange- 
 ment is both wise and benevolent; suited admirably 
 to the nature of man, as a moral agent in a state of 
 discipline and probation. It was not made origi- 
 nally, that men might have a facility by these rela- 
 tions to advance in vice and crime, but in virtue 
 and benevolence. It is man's character and spirit 
 as a sinner which pervert all his relations and 
 render their admirable arrangement the means of 
 that fearful progression in vice that arms him with 
 so stupendous a power of mischief. In order to es- 
 timate this power of one sinner, let us follow him 
 in his criminal career through the ascending series 
 of his relations and the widening spheres of influ- 
 ence which they open to him in the present world. 
 Let us take him in the simplest relation of his exis- 
 tence, — that of mere childhood in the nursery, and 
 see whether even here the buddings of his power to 
 destroy much good are not manifest. Does not 
 his spirit of disobedience, his wilfulness and obsti- 
 nacy, his restiveness under control and the bursts of 
 his temper here indulged tend to destroy a mother's 
 equanimity, to produce habits of irritability, and to 
 disqualify her for the calm and consistent perfor- 
 mance of her maternal duties? These baleful pas- 
 
SERMON XII. 271 
 
 sions in a less or greater degree of development and 
 exercise will characterize the one sinner, though so 
 young as not yet to have gone beyond the threshold 
 of the nursery, and they will be efficiently destruc- 
 tive of much good that would otherwise have ex- 
 isted in the temper and habits of parents. 
 
 Let us contemplate him again advanced to the re- 
 lation of boyhood, and coupled by it to a number of 
 young associates, and what a power of destruction 
 will his spirit and conduct as a sinner wield at this 
 period over their unsettled and pliable moral feel- 
 ings. The companionship of early life, when the 
 principle of imitation acts so powerfully, exerts a 
 greater and more decisive influence in the formation 
 of character than any other given circumstance. 
 Let this one, young sinner, then, be familiar with 
 that reproach of youth, — that most gratuitous and 
 vulgar vice — profane swearing ; and how much good 
 will he destroy, by weakening in the minds of his 
 youthful companions that reverence for the name 
 and the attributes of God in which they have been 
 educated. One guilty hour of his profaneness may 
 annihilate in the minds of his young associates that 
 "fear of an oath" which- has cost parents and reli- 
 gious teachers the labour of years to produce. And 
 this annihilation of the fear of God, this upheaval 
 and throwing oflf of one of the most powerful re- 
 straints on juvenile depravity, gives scope and play 
 to a multitude of destructive agencies in the young 
 mind hitherto held in check. It uncages the baleful 
 ])assions, and sends them prowling, unawed, through 
 the ranks of youthful society. Now, so crowded as 
 is the young population of most countries, and so 
 
272 SERMON XII. 
 
 strong as is the associating principle at this period, 
 who can compute the number of youthful minds 
 with which this one young, profane sinner will come 
 in contact, and on whom he will exert this form of 
 blighting influence? Take, then, the whole num- 
 ber of cases in which he has destroyed this single 
 feeling of reverence for the name of God, and then 
 multiply by the number and force of all those other 
 sins to which freedom from this form of restraint 
 has given rise, and say whether one sinner in a li- 
 mited relation does not destroy much good. 
 
 It deserves to be noticed here, also, that the very 
 same kind of influence exerted in this one instance 
 of profane swearing is attributable, in all its length 
 and breadth, to all that number and variety of evil 
 actions which constitute the character and perma- 
 nent example of the young sinner. Let him enstamp 
 on the imagination of a youthful companion an ob- 
 scene image, and lay the foundation for trains of 
 polluted association, and can any finite mind com- 
 pute the mischief thus effected? So, his disregard 
 of parental authority, his disrespect to superiors, his 
 folly and recklessness, his contempt for the good 
 opinion of the virtuous, his callousness at wounding 
 the feelings of others, his envy and evil-speaking, 
 his malice and early attempts at vengeance and re- 
 taliation of injuries, all tell with the same efficient 
 destructiveness on the forming habits and pliant 
 feelings of his youthful associates ! 
 
 We may next contemplate this one sinner in the 
 relation of manhood. All his powers are now 
 fully developed, and a mature intensity given to 
 his evil moral qualities which they did not possess 
 
SERMON XII. 273 
 
 before. He has the aggregated strength of con- 
 firmed habits of sin. Much practice has given 
 him tact, and taught him a compendious tnode of 
 doing evil. This relation greatly enlarges the sphere 
 of his blasting influence. It involves the relation of 
 superiority in years over all that younger part of 
 society with whom we have hitherto contemplated 
 him as on an equality, whilst his present equality 
 is with the entire multitudes in manhood around 
 him. Here then, you perceive, he has an almost 
 unlimited sway over the young, who look up to him 
 as their superior in age and in knowledge, whilst he 
 has a new and extended influence over his present 
 equals in the period of manhood. He is no longer 
 confined to the narrow circle of his boyish compa- 
 nions, nor to the limited routine of juvenile action. 
 He is connected now with that portion of society 
 subject to most mutation, where his mind is brought 
 into contact with other minds in constant and quick 
 succession. His facilities of communication with 
 his fellows are such that he is perpetually enlarging 
 the sphere of his destructive operations, and multi- 
 plying the radiating points of his malignant influ- 
 ence. Now, over this wide and widening field he 
 is spreading out the peculiarities of his character as 
 a sinner, which, by seizing on the great laws of 
 sympathy and assimilation in the hearts of his fel- 
 low men, are dealing a most signal and unsparing 
 destruction over " whatsoever is lovely and of good 
 report " there. And who may tell what confirmed 
 prejudices against the truth — what latitudinous sen- 
 timents — what contempt for the laws of God and 
 man — what opiates of conscience — what settled,^ 
 
274 SERMON xn. 
 
 hardened skepticism — what confirmed enmity to 
 God and all that is good may take the place of bet- 
 ter feelings in the hearts of thousands, by the influ- 
 ence of this one sinner, in ten years of the vigour of 
 manhood? What " fire-brands, arrows, and death" 
 has he strewn over the whole length of his guilty 
 pathway! What blight and mildew has he left on 
 the morals of all with whom he has been in contact ! 
 What wasting and desolation, more terrible than of 
 the whirlwind and the earthquake, mark his crimi- 
 nal career! 
 
 But let us now contemplate this "one sinner" ad- 
 vanced in age, in the relation in which " three score 
 and ten " places him. At this period a superficial 
 observer might suppose that his power of destroy- 
 ing much good was greatly diminished. He is now 
 consigned by his age to comparative retirement and 
 inactivity. But man's social principle is not de- 
 stroyed by the lapse of years. At every period of 
 life he loves society, and will have it. And the 
 change from that portion of society in manhood and 
 middle life to that of old age is so gradual and im- 
 perceptible, that the veteran of seventy still finds 
 himself in congenial company, unaltered in all the 
 peculiarities of his spirit and character as a sinner. 
 He has those that are his equals and his fellows noWy 
 no less than were those of his boyhood and maturity. 
 And though, in his physical constitution, he bears 
 the marks of wasted vigour and wrecked animal 
 energies, yet his enmity against God is strong as 
 ever, and the habit of sinning, and all his powers of 
 destroying much good, have suflered nothing from 
 ^the changes and chances of time, or the debility and 
 
SERMON XII. 215 
 
 decrepitude of age. If those of his own years, with 
 whom he now associates, be fewer than those who 
 surrounded him when young and gay, his influence 
 on such is more certainly and effectively destructive; 
 because his aged companions will not, in the nature 
 of the case, have the same length of time to retrace 
 their evil course which the young may. The old 
 already live in the vicinity of the judgment-seat, 
 and have advanced within a step of the irreversible 
 awards of eternity. Besides, they have arrived at 
 that advanced point in the formation of character 
 when a single shade or two added is all that is ne- 
 cessary io finish the dark picture of their depravity, 
 complete their education in sin, and graduate them 
 for a miserable immortality ! If, then, there be 
 fewer materials for him to operate on, they have a 
 greater adaptation to the aged sinner's work of 
 destruction. But is it correct to estimate the num- 
 ber disfeio in whose hearts one aged sinner may de- 
 stroy much good? No. His influence now extends 
 over all the gradations of society through which he 
 has passed. His advance to new and higher rela- 
 tions have not destroyed any of the others. Yot 
 instance, will not a profane oath, sanctioned by the 
 gray hairs, and trembling limbs, and toothless arti- 
 culation of age, more efiectually destroy the fear of 
 God in a child than the profaneness of a young com- 
 panion? Children, till taught otherwise by experi- 
 ence and observation, always associate the idea of 
 the becoming and the correct with the conduct of 
 the aged. Why, then, may not the crowds of giddy 
 youth be indoctrinated and confirmed in their care- 
 lessness, stupidity, and practical atheism, when they 
 
276 SERMON xri. 
 
 see the man of three-score and ten as utterly reck- 
 less as themselves?— see him, when he has one foot 
 already on that narrow isthmus which divides this 
 from the eternal world, as insensible as though there 
 were no God, no final doom, no ruined eternity for 
 the incorrigible sinner! Yea, one aged sinner will 
 exert a destructive influence over the minds and 
 morals of youth beyond the power of hundreds of 
 their own age; because the young, by a strange de- 
 lusion, uniformly contemplate advanced age as the 
 appropriate and favourable period for the exercises 
 of piety, and the aged as patterns of serious thought- 
 fulness and preparation for the world to come. And 
 further, may not the busy and bustling crowds of 
 manhood and middle age learn a lesson of absorb- 
 ing attachment to the world, and of sordid avarice, 
 from the aged sinner who, tottering on his crutches, 
 toils and struggles on through schemes of gain, and 
 whose withered heart still beats high with the love 
 of gold, even when its muscular strength is scarcely 
 sufficient to propel the slow current of life along its 
 channels. Thus it is manifest that one aged sinner 
 destroys much good over all the gradations of soci- 
 ety, from the child up to the few of gray hairs with 
 himself, who are glad to add him to their number, 
 that there may be one more to divide with them 
 the responsibility of a misspent life, and of hoary- 
 headed impenitence! 
 
 It is but justice to the subject to introduce in this 
 estimate an item that has been hitherto omitted; 
 that is, the amount of good which this one sinner 
 has destroyed by destroying the hopes and happi- 
 ness of his own soul — that soul whose worth mocks 
 
SERMON XII. 277 
 
 tlie wealth of worlds, and is written in the blood of 
 the' great atonement, and whose weight can be ba- 
 lanced only by that "far more exceeding and eter- 
 nal weight of glory" which would have been his, 
 had he not destroyed himself by his iniquities. 
 Think of the number of souls with whom lie came 
 in contact while yet young, and on whom, when 
 yielding as the wax is to the seal, he exerted his de- 
 structive influence as a sinner! Think, again, of tiie 
 still greater number of souls, in the period of man- 
 hood, on whom he brought to bear all his matured 
 agencies of evil, wasting their moral strength, and 
 making their bonds of iniquity strong upon them, 
 and strengthening their hands in sin, and urging 
 them to the same excesses with himself by his coun- 
 sel and example, and all the tremendous power of 
 his spirit and character as a sinner. Think, too, of 
 the number of aged wrecks with whom he consorted 
 when old, and who required but one blow even of 
 his shrivelled arm to dash them in moral ruin: and 
 forget not to take into the account here, that two 
 new generations of children and men in their meri- 
 dian have sprung up since those with whom he used 
 to be associated have passed away, and that over 
 these, as well on those once the immediate compa- 
 nions of his age, he is rolling back the destructive 
 tide of his power, and then say, my hearers, does 
 not one sinner destroy much good? 
 
 But I beg you to notice that in this estimate of 
 the sinner's power to do harm, we have contem- 
 plated him only in his most general relations as a 
 member of society — merely as one of the multitude 
 — without sustaining any particular relation, involv- 
 24 
 
278 SERMON Xlle 
 
 ing in its very nature a destructive influence more 
 direct and unbroken, than that which he exercised 
 by his occasional intercourse with his fellow-men. 
 Let us now, in addition to the appalling amount 
 of good which he has destroyed in this way, con- 
 template him in the relations of a husband and 
 father. His partner may also be a sinner, but may 
 not be so callous, and so profoundly at ease as he, 
 in view of sustaining such a character in the sight 
 of a holy God! On some occasion, it may be when 
 she has been to the sanctuary on the Sabbath, the 
 divine word has come with pungency and power 
 to her conscience and her heart. She has returned 
 to her home in sadness and in tears. She has sought 
 an opportunity of being alone with her Bible and 
 her God. But with the sagacity of a fiend, her hus- 
 band suspects the cause of her sorrow, breaks in 
 upon her retirement, and there, by the power of ri- 
 dicule, or by a false appeal to her love for him, or 
 in the sternness of his authority as a husband, he 
 plies every susceptibility of her nature that is 
 adapted to impel her to abandon the concerns of 
 her soul. He tells her, it is religious melancholy, 
 superstitious gloom, to feel as she does, and that 
 continuing to feel thus, their wedded happiness 
 must speedily come to an end, and his affections be 
 alienated from her ! Bj^ his constant intercourse 
 with her, he reiterates these arguments and efforts, 
 till, in utter discouragement, she dismisses her last 
 resolve to secure the soul's salvation, grieves away 
 the Spirit of God, and becomes seared and insensible 
 as her destroyer. And now, in his relation as a 
 father, with a partner thus conformed, by his fearful 
 
SERMON xir. 279 
 
 j)0\ver of persuasion, in sinful character to himself, 
 what will be his destructive influence on their chil- 
 dren, whose moral feelings are modelled almost ex- 
 clusively after the pattern of their father, to whom, 
 in the simple confidence of their young hearts, they 
 look up as their guide and exemplm" in every virtue. 
 His character as a sinner is making its deep and 
 enduring impressions on them, with all the fa- 
 cilities afforded by their young, susceptible, con- 
 fiding hearts, and,/^/^ constant contact with them in 
 the authority, reverence, obedience, and all the filial 
 affection due from them to him, in the endeared re- 
 lation of a father. How readily will his weight of 
 influence, bearing with unintermitted pressure, for 
 the first ten or fifteen years, on the opening and 
 plastic minds of his children, omsh out from ihem 
 the last feeling of the fear of God which lingered 
 and struggled for existence there! Then, while 
 this one sinner has had a divided or diluted influ- 
 ence in destroying much good in the souls of multi- 
 tudes, with whom he met in his social intercourse, 
 over the companion of his life, and the children 
 whom God hath given him, he has wielded a certain 
 destruction, all his own. That husband and father 
 will " not perish alone in his iniquity! !" 
 
 Again. — In this estimate of one sinner's power 
 to destroy much good, in no respect have we con- 
 sidered him as having a peculiar or commanding 
 influence above others. He has been supposed to 
 belong to the thousands, in the ordinary and unob- 
 served walks of life. But let us now behold him 
 in the adventitious relations of rank, ivcalth, and 
 education, and mark how his facilities for destroy- 
 
280 SERMON XII. 
 
 ing much good, over every department of society, 
 are thus multiplied. How much more extensively 
 is he known amongst all classes! How many mi- 
 nions, and pitiful parasites, flatterers, and feigned 
 admirers, will his rank and riches obtain for him, 
 and bring under the sway of his influence as a sin- 
 ner ! What multitudes, who cannot or will not 
 think for themselves, will give an easy credence to 
 the crude and contradictory dogmas of his infidel 
 creed, because he has the reputation of an educated 
 gentleman. What multitudes of his equals, will his 
 leisure, and his facilities of travelling, and of social 
 intercourse, bring within the potent sweep of his 
 destructive influence ! The factitious splendour 
 which station, honours, wealth, and education give, 
 even to the vices of their possessors, and the servile 
 imitation of those vices, by almost all classes, are 
 facts too notorious to require comment. Now, you 
 will perceive, that one sinner of this character, has 
 a power of destroying much good, which not only 
 extends over the same length, from youth up to old 
 age, but has an additional, and almost indefinite 
 BREADTH, denied to his obscure, and less gifted fel- 
 low in crime. Assuredly, then, if one private, un- 
 lettered sinner, can destroy his thousands, this sin- 
 ner, in his rank, and honours, his wealth, and learned 
 leisure, can destroy his tens of thousands! And, 
 suppose further, that this one sinner has a highly 
 gifted, richly stored mind, and holds to the public 
 the relation of an author, and sheds over his skep- 
 tical and licentious pages the inspiration and the 
 charm of real genius! Now, with such facilities 
 of printing, and such an immense, and ever-widen- 
 
SERMON XII. 281 
 
 ing circle of readers as characterize our clay, it is 
 olDvious, that as an author, he can have a kind of 
 contact and communion with a multitude of minds, 
 whom, with all his facilities of an extended personal 
 acquaintance, the arm of his destructive power could 
 never have reached. The solitary individual of 
 real genius, who employs the press to imbody, and 
 send abroad the peculiarities of his character as a sin- 
 ner, may live in a ubiquitous energy to destroy much 
 good over the length and the breadth of the whole ci- 
 vilized world. How many licentious skeptics did 
 Hume, and Gibbon, and some of their weak imita- 
 tors, and wicked admirers make, in their own day, 
 though these authors themselves, may have, long 
 since, been taught in a most summary manner, to 
 " believe and tremble !^^ What mighty desolations 
 were wrought in the moral feelings of multitudes, 
 by the works of Lord Byron, while they were still 
 wet from the press, and sought after, as they were, 
 with the cravings of a morbid appetite, whet to un- 
 natural acuteness, by the dela}^ of each expected 
 volume ! How much mad misanthropy, sickly- 
 sensibility, dark, and defying skepticism, unbridled 
 passion, and remorseless lust, may have usurped the 
 place of better feelings in the bosoms of his un- 
 numbered readers. Omniscience only can compute! 
 How many youth have been hopelessly corrupted, 
 by that one editorial sinner, v/ho projected the plan 
 of publishing " Don Juan," in a separate form, lest 
 the luhole works of the noble bard might be too ex- 
 pensive to ensure an easy and wide circulation! 
 What an awful triumph have these two small volumes, 
 liius sent foilh, nrliievod over tiie restraints of purity 
 21^ 
 
282 SERMON XII. 
 
 and youthful virtue. They have taught the young, 
 that the sacredness of wedded chastity may be vio- 
 lated without remorse! — and this lesson has been 
 impressed on their imagination, with all the wit and 
 charms which the genius of a Byron could impart 
 to the successful adventures of the young adulterer, 
 who is the hero of his song, and has been " burnt 
 in upon their memory," by the immortal fires of 
 his poetry. Verily, my hearers, one sinner who is 
 an author, or even a compiler and publisher, may 
 destroy an immeasurable amount of good, beyond 
 that which he will destroy in the sphere of his own 
 social influence. 
 
 Allied to this kind of power, to destroy mucli 
 good, is that with wiiich the relation of public and 
 important offices invests the sinner. Let him be 
 a barrister, perverting his office to the purpose 
 of litigation, and defending fraud and crime, by 
 ''making the worse appear the better reason;" — or 
 let him be a chief justice on the bench, " turning- 
 judgment away backward," causing to be recorded, 
 diS precedents, his iniquitous decisions, confounding 
 the distinctions of right and wrong, conniving at 
 vice, and setting up villany on high, under the 
 sanctions of the supreme law — and what a destruc- 
 tion of all respect for law itself, and of all regard 
 for the rights of others, and of all reverence for the 
 eternal principles of justice, will he thus effect in 
 the hearts of thousands, to say nothing of the weight 
 which his office in itself will give to his example as 
 a sinner, in the daily walks of private life! Or 
 let this one sinner occupy a high place in the coun- 
 cils or cabinet of a nation; and if he be a master 
 
SERMON XII. 283 
 
 spirit, thoroughly versed in modern politics, what 
 wholesale havoc of good over the extent of the 
 nation, will he effected by the power of a selfish and 
 cunning diplomacy, or a reckless and mad partisan 
 legislation. And then his morals and every pecu- 
 liarity of his character as a sinner, are rendered more 
 efficiently destructive on others, by the adventitious 
 charms in which the mere height of his office dis- 
 plays him, and by that blind and superstitious re- 
 verence which the multitude in every nation feel 
 towards those who are exalted to the control of their 
 political interests, and destinies. How much wrang- 
 ling, caning, duelling. Sabbath-breaking, drunken- 
 ness, and debauchery, have been diffused through 
 this country, the last few years, by the example of 
 some members of congress. Within the last twenty 
 years, a blow has been struck by some of the high- 
 est civil functionaries against the political integrity, 
 the national morality, and public virtue, which has 
 destroyed more good than the best and brightest 
 examples in those high places will repair for a cen- 
 tury to come ! 
 
 In illustrating our subject, we are justified in 
 taking the strongest cases of individual power for 
 mischief which the history of the world presents. 
 Let this one sinner, then, be the enthroned despot 
 of a mighty nation, invested with an absolute supre- 
 macy over its civil and religious interests and des- 
 tinies, and during a short reign, what a plenitude of 
 power to destroy much good will he possess. Like 
 Nero, he can with all despatch, not merely bring to 
 the verge of ruin the temporal interests of an em- 
 pire, but kill the prophets, scatter the ^^eople, an 
 
284 SERMON XII. 
 
 dig down the altars of the living God, over the ex- 
 tent of his dominions. By his own arbitrary, un- 
 checked will, he can protect and patronise indivi- 
 dual and national crime. 
 
 Or, let this one sinner be high in military f^ffice, 
 let him be an Alexander or a Bonaparte, travelling 
 like them " in the greatness of his strength," on the 
 dark march of his ambition, rolling up and lashing 
 into fury the wrathful and malignant passions of 
 more than half the population of the world, tramp- 
 ling out of unnumbered minds all just estimate of 
 the worth and the sacredness of human life, and 
 sending, prematurely, a countless- host from the 
 blood of the battle ground, in the blood-guiltiness 
 of their souls, to the bar of God! ! Our spirits sink 
 within us, as we contemplate the good which one 
 such sinner can destroy in a short career, and within 
 the limits of his own official influence. But if these 
 examples of civil and military characters high in 
 office, should seem to be invidious, then, let this 
 one sinner be clothed with the sacred office of an 
 ambassador of Christ, let him be an unconverted 
 minister ! How shall we estimate his power of de- 
 stroying much good ! To give scope and energy to 
 his capabilities of mischief, he can invoke the aid of 
 all the imposing solemnities and awful insignia of 
 his commission as '^ a legate of the skies." To give 
 currency and credence to his errors and latitudina- 
 rian sentiments, to transfer his own convictions to 
 other minds, and transfuse through them his own 
 spirit, to warp their consciences, and model their 
 hearts after his own fashion, he can avail himself of 
 tlie tremendous power, not only of the religious 
 
SERMON xir. 285 
 
 principle, but of all those deep-rooted and hallowed 
 associations connected witli the administrations of 
 the altar and of the sanctuary of God ! Indeed, it 
 is from this source that the vices of his private life 
 draw their most deep and damning influence. And 
 if he have an uncommon share of the fires of origi- 
 nal genius, he may electrify that great chain of mo- 
 ral sympathy which will communicate a destructive 
 shock to the most remote dwellers in Christendom! ! 
 No other office clothes a sinner with so terrific a 
 power of destroying much good as this ! He has 
 fire from heaven of such intensity as to consume a 
 holocaust of victims as a sacrifice to his depravity. 
 He has weapons of celestial temper, and of fearful 
 capacity to destroy, when wielded by his hand as a 
 sinner in holy orders. He perverts the very " sword 
 of the Spirit'^ into an implement of eternal death to 
 souls!! 0! what is the power of a Machiavelli in 
 diplomacy, or of a Nero on the throne, or an Alex- 
 ander and a Bonaparte with the world as a battle- 
 field, compared with his who uses the holy office of 
 the ministry with all its deep and incalculable in- 
 fluences on man, as the means of driving souls from 
 this world of probation, into the perdition of an 
 eternal hell ! 
 
 But in order to present the truth that one sinner 
 destroyeth much good, in a still more appalling light, 
 we must now notice a 
 
 H. Great general principle in the philosophy of 
 fallen man, that is, the certain inter-communica- 
 tion, or easy and rapid diffusion of evil in our 
 world. No contagion is so rapidly diffusive as the 
 contagion of folly, " because the physical constitu- 
 
286 SERMON XII. 
 
 lion of fallen man is in direct sympathy with those 
 passions which most readily manifest themselves in 
 the features, the attitude, the action, the language, 
 the tone of voice, the turn of a hand;" hence, every 
 human face becomes a medium of transmission and 
 diffusion, for we cannot but be moved more or less 
 by what we witness of feeling in others ; so that the 
 whole surface of society, in many of its phases, be- 
 comes, in the propagation of vice, what an epidemic 
 constitution of atmosphere is in the spread of literal 
 disease. Let this principle be borne in mind in the 
 subsequent remarks under this head. 
 
 Now, we have hitherto considered the sinner's 
 power of destruction as extending only to those 
 with whom he came in actual contact, either per- 
 sonally or by his writings. But this is a defective 
 estimate, for each one with whom the sinner through 
 life comes in contact, and on whom he makes a de- 
 structive impression, has also his individual and se- 
 parate sphere of influence over numbers unknown 
 to the first; and his pursuits, and the ever-shifting 
 fortunes of the world, may carry him over large 
 portions of it where the first has never travelled. 
 Thus, a single infidel taunt or jeer against religion, 
 or a solitary obscene anecdote, told by one sinner 
 in a moment of thoughtless mirth to an individual 
 companion, may be repeated in all its damning ef- 
 fect to m,ultitudes with whom that one sinner has 
 had no personal communication. And these multi- 
 tudes, in their turn, all forming separate starting 
 points, from each of which this accursed influence 
 may radiate over other multitudes. Thus it goes 
 on by a kind of geometrical progression, which ter- 
 
SERMON Xll. ^87 
 
 minatcs at last in a comparative infinity! From 
 the extreme susceptibility of evil impression by the 
 depraved heart, and the strong bias in favour of sin 
 from taste and habit, it would seem as though there 
 were a great law of moral contagion, by which 
 one solitary sinner might infect the world! "The 
 whole world lieth in wickedness.'' There is a sin 
 that is said to set on fire the course of nature. The 
 world of iniquity is as fuel sun-dried and heated to 
 the point of combustion, and only requiring a spark 
 of unhallowed fire to kindle it into a blaze over the 
 whole extent, with a rapidity and universality like 
 that which we picture of the final conflagration!! 
 Hence, it is apparent, that the good, much as it is, 
 which one sinner destroys by his own immediate 
 influence, bears no more proportion to the whole 
 amount destroyed by him through this great prin- 
 ciple of the inter-communication, or easy diffusion 
 of evil, than the first ripple of the water immedi- 
 ately round the stone thrown into it, does to the 
 sweep of those far extending circles which go on 
 widening their circumferences over the unresisting 
 surface long after the centre has become calm. 
 
 It will enhance our conceptions of the amazing 
 power of one sinner to destroy much good, if we 
 
 III. Advert here to a third great general princi- 
 ple in the philosophy of depraved human nature, 
 namely, the continuous descent, or protracted 
 transmission of evil through successive ages of the 
 world. You will now call to mind the fact, that in 
 all the preceding remarks it has been assumed that 
 the sinner's power of destruction, however widely 
 diffused, continued no longer than during his own 
 
288 SEHMON XIL 
 
 life-time, and that of his cotemporaries. But this 
 is by no means the limit of his influence, particularly 
 in the case of one sinner who is a successful and 
 celebrated author, or whose exalted station and of- 
 fice have given him a prominence in history. There 
 is a great law of descent, as well as of the easy and 
 wide diffusion of evil, by which its transmission 
 from generation to generation goes onward and still 
 onward indefinitely. The inherited and tradition- 
 ary evil now in the world, forms a subject of strange 
 and appalling speculation ! There may be a sinner 
 in this house to-day, who, if he could analj^ze criti- 
 cally, and trace to their ultimate sources, all those 
 influences which have concurred to destroy much 
 good in his soul, might find that one sinner back in 
 the dark ages, in the eighth or ninth century, had 
 struck a blow which reached him at this distance ! 
 Yes, the last murderer executed, pursuing a similar 
 analysis and investigation, might find that a part of 
 the complicated influences that determined him on 
 the foul deed, was a certain impression made by the 
 character of Cain himself, and neither washed out 
 by the deluge, nor obliterated by any of the revolu- 
 tions and vicissitudes of subsequent time ! ! This 
 may seem strained, startling, and incredible. But 
 is it not a fact indisputable, that we are now dis- 
 tinctly affected by the conduct of the first trans- 
 gressor, and that, too, not solely on the ground of 
 a divine constitution or federal relationship between 
 Adam and his posterity, but also by that great law 
 of the transmission of evil from mind to mind, 
 which, when not controlled by special divine influ- 
 ence, is just as uniform and incessant in its opera- 
 
SERMON XII. 2SD 
 
 tlon, as are the immutable laws of nature. How- 
 ever, languages, and arts, and literature, and govern- 
 ments, and manners, may change, the minda of every 
 preceding generation influence for good or for evil 
 the minds of the one that succeeds it. In the whole 
 liistory of man did a generation ever spring up and 
 display a moral character in no wise modified or in- 
 fluenced by the one immediately preceding? Now 
 if this cannot be, as all will admit, you perceive, 
 then, that through everi/ goieration, onward for 
 ever, the chain of communication must remain com- 
 plete and unbroken, save in those insulated cases of 
 divine interference, which form the exceptions only 
 to the general rule. 
 
 Hence, after all the terrific power with which we 
 have hitherto considered this one sinner invested, 
 we now find him reaching forth a mysterious might, 
 by which, through this great law of the transmis- 
 sion of evil, he is capable of carrying on most effec- 
 tively, the work of destruction commenced while 
 living, long ages after he shall have received his 
 eternal doom ! ! He may thus " stretch out a line 
 of desolation over many " future " generations.'' 
 His mischief has been concerned more especially 
 with the faculty by which the mind establishes as- 
 sociations that regulate the currents of thought, and 
 it thus tends to raise and roll on a tremendous tide 
 of destruction, which will never be stayed, nor find 
 its level, till it pass the bounds of time, and mingle 
 in the stormy lake of death and hell. And this 
 leads me to advert briefly to a 
 
 IV. Great general principle in the philosophy of 
 fallen man, that gives the climax to the sinner's 
 25 
 
290 ^EilMON xil. 
 
 power of destroying much good, which is^ ike irre- 
 vocable or reverseless character that pertains to evil 
 actions. A destruction, however great, that can be 
 repaired, is not to be compared, in real magnitude, 
 with one much smaller in itself, which is utterly 
 and absolutely irreparable. And such, emphati- 
 cally, is the good destroyed by one sinner. The 
 destruction of one virtuous sentiment in an immor- 
 tal mind, if God interfere not, will be as lasting as 
 the existence of that mind. And even where a glo- 
 rious divine sovereignty overrules human wicked- 
 ness for good, it is not by re-creating the precise 
 good destroyed, or by annihilating the evil act done. 
 That remains, and will remain, an evil act done, as 
 reverseless as final doom. The precise good de- 
 stroyed in a given case, will remain a blot on the 
 moral map of the universe, a blight on the beauty 
 of the intelligent creation through all eternity ! We 
 speak with reverence, when we say that it is not a 
 legitimate object of the power of God himself to 
 render it otherwise ! The greatest of living preach- 
 ers, in his day, once said, that " the wheels of nature 
 were not made to roll backward.'^ So sin and its 
 destructive tendency are changeless and returnless 
 as the course of nature, and will be endless as the 
 circle of eternal years. 
 
 Now, in making up the mighty aggregate of good 
 which one sinner destroys through the medium of 
 all his relations, social, domestic, public, political; 
 his relations of wealth, learning, ofiice, and station 
 perverted; all that he destroys through the great 
 principle of the easy and rapid difiusion of evil; 
 through the fixed law of the perpetual and unbroken 
 
SERMON XII. 291 
 
 descent of evil over all generations, just remember 
 that it is the good of iminorlal souls that is de- 
 stroyed, and then add to it all this awful attribute 
 of irrevocability, this sure seal of aii everlasting 
 REVERSELESSNEss! and we may lift up our hands in 
 awe, and exclaim, ^'Lct God be true, though every 
 man be a liar," for the mouth of the Lord hath spo- 
 ken it — "One sinner destroyeth much good!!" 
 
 To conclude. This subject gives us an over- 
 whelming view of the responsibility of those who 
 sustain the character of sinners under the govern- 
 ment of God. Sinner, settle it in your heart, that 
 it is an unspeakably solemn thing to have an exis- 
 tence in a scene like this, and to have your charac- 
 ter and conduct inseparably linked with the eternal 
 results of those moral causes that have diffused and 
 perpetuated evil in our world! ! Let it never for a 
 moment hereafter, escape your memory that the in- 
 fluence of your character as a sinner, is not confined 
 merely to your own destiny in this or in the future 
 world. You are connected with your species by 
 the sympathies of a common nature, and bound up 
 with them in an economy of such mutual influ- 
 ences, that the character of your mind in its volun- 
 tary wickedness, will stamp its evil impression on 
 other minds with as fixed and absolute certainty 
 as heavy bodies gravitate! It is vain for you to 
 complain of such a divine constitution, or to attempt 
 to gainsay or resist it. You can never escape from 
 those fixed and eternal laws of mental action and in- 
 fluence which arise from the very nature of spirit. 
 When you think of yourself as only one of the hun- 
 dred millions of the race, your existence may seem 
 
292 SERMON XIT. 
 
 unimportant as the drop in the midst of the ocean. 
 But, in the great balance of the physical universe, 
 is there even one drop in the ocean unimportant? 
 Were one drop changed or annihilated, might it not 
 produce a change in the relative position of all the 
 minute particles that form that world of waters? 
 And how do you know that one solitary sinful act 
 of yours may not disturb the balance and perpetu- 
 ate a jar in the nicely adjusted elements of the moral 
 universe for ever? I pray, then, that not one of 
 you lose sight of yourself as an individual in the 
 myriad multitudes of the race with which you are 
 connected, nor think lightly of your personal influ- 
 ence and responsibility, from the strong examples I 
 have adduced of sinners who, from their talents, 
 wealth, rank, and office, may have a gigantic power 
 of mischief. After all, it requires neither genius 
 nor talents to be a sinner, and to destroy much good. 
 The mere school-boy or the dullest individual may 
 wield a terrific power of destroying good, and incur 
 by it an awful responsibility at the bar of God. 
 
 My dear young friends, — you who sport with the 
 solemnities of your existence and make a mock at 
 sin, — will you not pause now, and reflect on your 
 character as sinners, armed with weapons that are 
 carrying a wide and woful destruction over all that 
 is most valued in the eye of God, and of the holy 
 universe? I address some here to-day who enjoy 
 the blessings of education, and whose sanguine 
 youthful hopes tell them that they may yet fill 
 some of the first places of honour, power, and trust 
 in this great nation. What think you, then, of sus- 
 taining the character of sinners through the antici- 
 
SERMON XII. 293 
 
 pated career of your future greatness? What think 
 you, at death, of leaving your " wickedness in high 
 places" as a mighty rock to be rolled down after 
 you, on its thundering way of destruction, over all 
 generations, till, in " the deepest hell," it crushes 
 you so that you will " find a deeper still," to which 
 the hell you suffer simply for destroying yourself 
 will "seem a heaven!" 'What youthful heart, not 
 brutalized by vice, would not ache and bleed with 
 regret at the thought of sweeping with the besom 
 of destruction so vast a territory of good as will be 
 reached by the influence of any one sinner? 
 
 My young hearers, let me assure you that there 
 is but one way in which you can possibly prevent 
 the mischief; and that is, by an entire change of 
 character on your part. No change will be made 
 in the economy of the world to avert the conse- 
 quences of your sins. You rnust cease to be a 
 sijiner, or the word of God and the constitution of 
 nature stand pledged for it that you will inevitably 
 destroy much good! If, then, you would prevent 
 results so eternally disastrous as have now been de- 
 scribed, you must repent and be converted, and be- 
 come a new creature in Christ Jesus — created in him 
 unto good works by the Holy Spirit! This is the 
 only thing that can ever break the dreadful con- 
 nexion between a sinner and his influence in de- 
 stroying much good. Oh, that I knew how to bring 
 the appeal of God's eternal love — of a Saviour's 
 weeping compassion — of the prayers and throbbing 
 anxieties of parents and pious friends — of the hopes 
 of heaven, to bear upon your young hearts, so that 
 you would now repent and turn to God, and throw 
 25* 
 
294 SERMON XII. 
 
 away those awful weapons of destruction with which 
 you are at present armed! Or, if you will not be 
 thus won to submission, let me then endeavour to 
 deter you from taking another step in your destruc- 
 tive career, by appealing to your fears. Will you, 
 then, look up steadfastly and behold one sinner be- 
 fore yonder judgment-seat of Christ, when "the 
 great day of his wrath hath come?" The mystery 
 of his iniquity, that has been so long and so widely 
 working, is now brought out from its retirements 
 and lurking-places with all its tremendous results, 
 and displayed in the broad light of an open eternity; 
 and the joints of his loins, though made strong for 
 immortal suffering, are loosed, and the knees of his 
 resurrectionary body smite one against another as 
 the sinner himself gazes on its magnitude! Before 
 him is his own eternal perdition, a deed of his own 
 doing — hell laid bare, and moved to meet him at 
 his coming! Behind him the long, haggard ranks 
 whom he has destroyed, gnashing their teeth in the 
 rage and the agony of the damned at their destroyer, 
 and ready to leap on him as did the demons on the 
 seven sons of Sceva; above, the uplifted arm of in- 
 sulted almighty justice, poising the bolt that is to 
 strike him and the victims of his influence down 
 perdition's deeps for ever! Oh, by all the unutter- 
 able woes of his everlasting descent, I beseech, I 
 conjure you who know that you are sinners, " Cease 
 NOW to do evil, and learn to do well!" 
 
iERMON XIII. 295 
 
 SERMON XIII 
 
 "But now they desire a better country, tlrat is, a heavenly." — Heb. 
 XI. IG. 
 
 In peopling this earth, every voluntary move- 
 ment made by the human race has been dictated 
 by a desire for "a better country." This desire has 
 been the great impulse in all the exploring enter- 
 prises of the world. It burned in the bosom of 
 Columbus, and bore him over unknown seas to this 
 western continent. The desire of some better allot- 
 ment than we at present enjoy, is inseparable from 
 our very nature. So well known is this, as a part 
 of our original constitution, and so little has ever 
 been found in the happiest climes of earth to gratify 
 this desire, that it accounts for the origin of that 
 beautiful and poetic fancy of the existence of a still 
 undiscovered blissful isle, where the very air is at- 
 tempered to delight, where the flowers of spring 
 never fade, where is to be found the fabled fountain 
 of life deep, clear, perennial, sleeping on its bed of 
 pearls, and where man, freed from the wants and 
 the woes of his previous condition, may luxuriate 
 in the ardent hopes, and lofty aspirations of an im- 
 mortal youth. It is hardly necessary to remark, 
 that this is but a ?nere fancy, that within the pre- 
 cincts of this little world, revolted from its God, 
 and scathed with the curse of the apostacy, there is 
 
296 SERMON XIII. 
 
 no such happy isle, no Elysian fields. Yet God has 
 provided for this instinctive longing of our spiritual 
 nature after a better country. Not to fancy, but to 
 faith, has He revealed a bright and blissful world 
 far transcending in its glory the most splendid 
 creations of poetic genius. God has disclosed a 
 realm of light and love, of beauty and repose suffi- 
 ciently exalted and grand to satisfy the largest and 
 loftiest aspirings of the soul, after an immortal ha- 
 bitation. It is to faith only that this brighter land 
 is revealed. The author of our text decides this 
 when he remarks, "These all died in faith, not 
 having received the promises, but having seen them 
 afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced 
 them, and confessed that they were strangers and 
 pilgrims on earth. For they that say such things 
 declare plainly that they seek a country. And truly, 
 if they had been mindful of that country from 
 whence they came out, they might have had oppor- 
 tunity to have returned. But now they desire a 
 better country, that is, a heavenly; wherefore God 
 is not ashamed to be called their God, for he hath 
 prepared for them a city." God himself has pre- 
 pared for them a country, a city, a home with a 
 garniture which will amply satisfy the refined and 
 exalted taste, the boundless hope and infinite aspira- 
 tions of those whom He is not ashamed to own as 
 his redeemed, adopted ones. 
 
 My dear hearers, will it not tend to strengthen 
 our faith, and to lure our afiections upwards, if we 
 contemplate for awhile this better, this heavenly 
 country, which we too profess to desire ? 
 
 In what respects, then, is it a better country? 
 
SERMON XITI. 297 
 
 I. It Is better as to ils indlerialism, or as to its 
 refined and glorious j)hysical elements. 
 
 A profound writer has remarked, that "as the 
 mind must, in all periods and regions of its exis- 
 tence, receive its happiness from causes exterior to 
 itself, and as it is probable the one Supreme Cause 
 of that happiness, the Deity, will make a very great 
 part of the happiness which human spirits are to 
 receive from him, come to them through the medi- 
 um of his works: it is matter of inexpressible exul- 
 tation that those works are so stupendous in multi- 
 plicity and magnitude, that they are, indeed, for all 
 practical purposes, infinite." We may add also, 
 that as in all immaterial or spiritual existences, 
 there is an ascending series from less to more per- 
 fect, till the climax is reached in the absolute and 
 infinite perfection of the great Father of our spirits, 
 so analogy renders it highly probable that there is 
 a similar series in the modifications and refinement 
 of physical elements in all the material worlds of 
 the universe, till the climax is reached in that one 
 which God has made as the theatre for the more 
 iinmediate displays of his own glory, and as the 
 city of refuge, and eternal rest and joy to his own 
 redeemed people. Regarding our earth as the least 
 and the lowest in the scale of created worlds inhabit- 
 ed by intelligent beings, we nevertheless find that 
 its material objects have a beauty and a sublimity 
 which make them sources of enjoyment to cultivated 
 minds. The extended plain variegated with its 
 rivers and lakes, its alternating forests and luxuri- 
 ant fields — the massive range of "cloud-capt" 
 mountains with their rocks and precipices, and 
 
298 SERMON XIIL 
 
 waterfalls, the expanse of ocean, the splendours of 
 the sun, by day, rising, culminating, and setting 
 amidst an endless variety of gorgeous hues, painting 
 every object of earth and sky, the nocturnal heavens, 
 cloudless, and calm, studded with myriad worlds of 
 far off light and glory, these all appeal to the senses, 
 and speak a language to the soul respecting what 
 God can prepare, and what "he hath prepared" 
 (for them that love him) in the organization, and 
 arrangement of material objects in the " better coun- 
 try." These terrestrial, and visible celestial objects 
 not only excite peculiar and pleasurable emotions 
 in a mind of cultivated taste, and acute sensibility, 
 but show what an endless variety of modifications 
 matter is susceptible of undergoing beneath the plas- 
 tic hand of the Almighty. These, in defiance of 
 the disorders introduced by sin, make our world a 
 bright, beautiful, gladsome habitation for sensitive 
 creatures. 
 
 Now if such be the nature of the material objects 
 in the country "from whence" believers "come 
 out," what must be the materialism or physical ele- 
 ments of that better country which they desire? 
 Must not every object there, exhibit a refinement 
 and material splendour far transcending the best 
 and brightest forms of matter on earth? 
 
 God '' hdiih prepared for them a city." It hath 
 ^' foundations^^ — is a real place with appropriate 
 physical arrangements as well as a glorious moral 
 order. But how shall we describe its material mag- 
 nificence! The richest combinations and the most 
 brilliant colourings of unaided fancy are too poor 
 and faint to approach such a task. " That disciple 
 
SiittMON XllL 290 
 
 whom Jesus loved," was once favoured with a 
 glimpse of this city, and a part of his sublime de- 
 scription of it will now. be transcribed. "And the 
 building of the wall of it was of jasper ; and the city 
 was pure gold, like unto clear glass, and the foun- 
 dations of the wall of the city were garnished with 
 all manner of precious stones. The first foundation 
 was a jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, a chal- 
 cedony; the fourth, an emerald; the fifth, sardonyx; 
 the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolite; the 
 eight, beryl; the ninth, a topaz; the tenth, a chryso- 
 prasus; the eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an ame- 
 thyst. And the twelve gates were twelve pearls, 
 every several gate was of one pearl; and the street 
 of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent 
 glass; and I saw no temple therein; for the Lord 
 God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. 
 And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the 
 moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did light- 
 en it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." It is ad- 
 mitted that the language of this description is not 
 only highly metaphorical, but partakes of the gor- 
 geousness of oriental diction. Deducting for this, 
 an unsophisticated mind will, notwithstanding, re- 
 ceive the impression, that this imagery is designed 
 to convey the idea of a glorious materialism in hea- 
 ven. What less can be meant by this solicitous 
 grouping of all the most refined, precious and bril- 
 liant material objects apart, and distinct from that 
 portion of the description which obviously refers 
 to what IS spiritual m the celestial economy? And 
 why should there not be material objects in that 
 better country, corresponding in their exquisite 
 
300 SERMON XIII. 
 
 forms, refined organization and resplendent quali- 
 ties, to the exalted capacities of contemplation and 
 of deep emotion which will characterize the inhabi- 
 tants? The difficulty of assenting to the existence 
 of material objects in heaven, results from our in- 
 capacity to conceive of physical objects almost in- 
 finitely different in refinement and grandeur from 
 those of earth. This incapacity is the necessary 
 consequence of our having no personal access to and 
 close communication with other parts of the uni- 
 verse, and perhaps no apparatus of the senses, if we 
 had such access and communication, by which we 
 might learn the wonders and the glories of God's 
 power, in the mere modifications of matter which 
 his creative hand has distributed throughout his 
 empire. Were we transferred to some one of those 
 distant worlds which stand as a luminous point on 
 the canvass of the nightly sky, and had we senses 
 adapted to the physical elements there, we might 
 discover a refinement and resplendency in material 
 objects of which we had never formed the remotest 
 idea, and which would far transcend the best and 
 brightest conceptions that we have as yet enter- 
 tained of heaven itself! And when we reflect that 
 this " better country " of which our text speaks, is 
 the more immediate seat and centre of Jehovah's 
 universal kingdom, can we doubt that it has a ma- 
 terial magnificence befitting the country, the court 
 and the palace of "the King eternal, immortal, and 
 invisible." What a scenery surrounds that celestial 
 city ! What may be the sublimity of " the mount 
 Zion above? — its forest-clad pinnacles, clothed in 
 eternal verdure — its green slopes and sunny walks, 
 
 i 
 
SERMON XIII. 301 
 
 not for " weary wandering feet," but for " the ran- 
 somed of tlic Lord " to walk tlierein "with songs 
 and everlasting joy upon their heads." What the 
 majestic flow of " the pure river of the water of 
 life, clear as crystal," imaging on its calm bosom the 
 trees of life that adorn its banks and reflecting from 
 its mirror surface other bright objects of that super- 
 nal world ! What must be the atmosphere of glory 
 that floats over that better country ! What the ar- 
 ray of beauty, order, harmony and absolute perfec- 
 tion which the material objects of heaven in all 
 their arrangements and phases exhibit ! What ima- 
 ges of blessedness and deep quietude, of innocence 
 and purity, of ineflable grandeur and sublimity will 
 crowd on every view of the celestial landscape and 
 extend to that vast horizon which encircles all the 
 mighty works of God! And what will be the 
 splendour of that lofty firmament which overspreads 
 the whole, and dispensing with sun, moon, and 
 stars, is all lighted up with an eternal glow from 
 the combined and richest glories of God and the 
 Lamb! This being the nature of heaven's light, 
 we may legitimately infer that its material ob- 
 jects must have an exquisitely refined, ethereal or- 
 ganization, to render them visible through such a 
 medium, and to constitute them the appropriate re- 
 flectors of those divine rays that come directly from 
 "/Ae excellent glory /" In estimating the glorious 
 materialism of that better country, then, we may as- 
 sume that its ol)jects, unlike those of earth, will 
 never be subject to change and decay. They will 
 remain in immortal bloom and beauty, the perma- 
 nent and highest evidences of God's wisdom, power, 
 2Q 
 
302 SERMON XIII. 
 
 and benevolence in creating and modifying matter. 
 Must not that be a far better country whose mate- 
 rial objects have been created and arranged to suit 
 the immediate dwelling-place of Jehovah — to re- 
 main as the noblest specimens of his infinite skill 
 in the material universe, and to contribute to the 
 happiness of the holy for ever? 
 
 II. It is a better country as respects its location. 
 Here, on earth, we are so constituted, that we are 
 greatly influenced by locality. It is this which 
 often determines our preference of places, and causes 
 us to regard a particular spot as " better " than 
 others. And yet, all the change of situation which 
 we can make on the face of this globe, gives us but 
 a very faint idea of the happiness that might be con- 
 ferred by a particular location. Were we placed on 
 the planet Saturn, and capable of living there, we, 
 doubtless, would have new, and very different con- 
 ceptions respecting the material universe, from what 
 we now possess, and in the superior light and phy- 
 sical scenery of that world, we might enjoy a happi- 
 ness, of which at present we cannot form the most 
 distant conjecture. So the location of some other 
 world, w^ere we permitted to visit it, with powers 
 and susceptibilities adapted to its natural objects and 
 arrangements, might confer on us a happiness in- 
 comparably greater than that of our supposed trans- 
 fer to Saturn. What then may be the influence ex- 
 erted by the locality of the "better country," that 
 is, "'the heavenly?" From the earliest notices of 
 the opinions of mankind on this subject, and from 
 the structure of all languages, ancient and modern, 
 and especially, the language of the Scriptures, the 
 
SERMON xiir. 303 
 
 impression seems to be universal, that heaven is 
 high in the regions of space. True, the terms high 
 and low are relative, and the relations they indicate 
 have no place, perhaps, in the absolute comprehen- 
 sion which the Eternal and Infinite Mind has of all 
 worlds, and all existences. But the relations of 
 high and low, and the influence of locality, will 
 probably continue to be perceived and felt by all 
 finite intelligences, in all periods of their progress 
 and development. Now, as heaven is a real mate- 
 rial world, and doubtless, the largest in all immen- 
 sity, and if so, as it must attract proportionally all 
 other warlds by the great law of gravitation, is it 
 not reasonable to suppose, that it is the loftiest point 
 — the grand centre of the material universe? Tins 
 supposition is confirmed analogically by the pheno- 
 mena which we witness, in the system of which our 
 globe forms a part. We see the earth and the pla- 
 nets with which w'e are acquainted, revolving around 
 the sun as a common centre. And then, if modern 
 science be not at fault, we find the sun itself, and 
 the whole system of which it is the centre, revolv- 
 ing around a more distant and vast centre of another 
 great system — and that again, revolving around a 
 still more distant and mightier centre of another and 
 greater system, and ^o on, tilf our finite powers are 
 exhausted in tracing the order of tliis involuted se- 
 ries of s3'Stems to an ultimate centre. Is it not 
 probable then, that this " better country," that is, 
 " the heavenly," is the last and the loftiest in the 
 ascending series, around which, as a grand climac- 
 teric centre, all the rest revolve? What a location 
 this! All worlds and systems of worlds through 
 
304 SERMON XIII. 
 
 immensity, revolving round it in their ever-shifting 
 and novel phases, as its mere planets ! What a 
 view will that location command of all other places 
 where creative power has ever been exercised! It 
 is the sublime observatory which God has erected 
 for holy intelligences, from which they are for ever 
 to see, and admire, and adore the stupendous exhi- 
 bitions of Jehovah's creative power and goodness. 
 What views will the location of that better country 
 open through the height, and depth, and length, and 
 breadth of universal nature. It is the vast focus of 
 God's entire creation, to which converge all those 
 rays of material glory, which gild alike the nearest 
 and the most remote world of immensity! All the 
 mighty products of God's creative energy will be 
 spread out beneath that location, and lie open and 
 unclouded to the eye of immortal spectators. In 
 addition to all this, and as a peculiar excellence of 
 this location, it is far removed from all those fluctu- 
 ations and disturbances to which matter here is sub- 
 jected, and exempt from all ungrateful change and 
 disastrous action of the elements. No waning 
 moons nor setting suns will gather the shadows of 
 evening or the gloom of night, over that better 
 country. No flood or ebbing tides will leave a 
 trace of devastation on its shores. No wintry clouds 
 and snows will desolate its sunny landscapes, nor 
 vernal frosts wither its rich foliage, nor blight its 
 profusion of fruits and flowers. No lightnings will 
 scathe its lofty cedars, nor shatter spire nor dome 
 of its celestial city. No fires will ever envelop its 
 forests or dwellings, in frightful conflagration. No 
 whirlwind or tornado shall ever agitate its peaceful, 
 
SERMON XIII. 305 
 
 balmy air, or make an unsightly chasm in its bright 
 objects. No earthquake nor volcano shall mar its 
 mountains or its plains, or spread terror or desola- 
 tion through its quiet homes. That better country 
 has its location far, and for ever removed, from all 
 the violence of physical elements — 
 
 "From noise and tumult far, 
 t Beyond the flying clouds, beyond the stars 
 
 And all this passing scene," 
 
 where not a sound mingles with, or disturbs the 
 harmony of that music, which every object, like the 
 statue of Memnon, gives back to each ray of ce- 
 lestial light, and each pulsation of air that visits it ! 
 0, does not such a location make the heavenly a 
 better country ! 
 
 III. It is a better country because it has better 
 society. In our estimate of the different countries 
 of earth, we are greatly influenced by the state of 
 society in each. As social beings, we cannot be 
 insensible to what an extent, and how intimately 
 our happiness is connected with the spirit and 
 character of those with whom we are permanently 
 in fellowship. The highest social enjoyment which 
 can be attained on eartli, results from a state of so- 
 ciety whose predominant characteristics are intelli- 
 gence, pure and elevated moral sentiments, and 
 congeniality of taste, and of the benevolent affec- 
 tions. But the best and most perfect community of 
 mortals associated any where on this fallen globe, 
 will find a remnant of the selfish and sinful passions 
 still existing sufficient to mar their social happiness. 
 There is no perfect congeniality of mind, no perfect 
 union of sympathies, no entire and unrestricted 
 26* 
 
306 SERMON xiir. 
 
 blending of heart with heart, in this nether world. 
 Sin continues to blight " the remaining tints of that 
 faded social loveliness," that survived the over- 
 throw in Eden, and the best society of earth, satis- 
 fies not the instinctive cravings of our nature, for 
 the joys of a perfect fellowship with kindred minds. 
 The regenerated soul, especially in its exalted sen- 
 sibilities, and refined affections, and sympathies, de- 
 sires " a better country" as to its society. But how 
 shall we describe the society of that heavenly coun- 
 try ? No community of persons on earth, however 
 refined, virtuous, and elite, furnishes a model or 
 even a remote analogy to assist our conceptions 
 on this subject. Imperfections and sin attach to the 
 happiest combination of associated minds in our 
 world. Discrepancy of opinion, discordance of feel- 
 ing, diversity of taste, to say nothing of the occa- 
 sional play of the passions of jealousy, envy, and 
 ambition, mingle with the best society of earth. But 
 no trace of these evils will ever be found in the 
 blessed society of the better country. Think for a 
 moment how vast will be the social circle of heaven ; 
 what untold myriads of minds it will embrace. As 
 to intelligence, every one of those minds, filled with 
 all the fulness of God, familiar with his infinite per- 
 fections, as learned from creation, providence, re- 
 demption, and from direct disclosures in heaven! 
 Every one of those minds, fired with a supremely 
 benevolent desire to impart knowledge to all the 
 younger members of the heavenly household. Every 
 heart of this countless throng, beating in a perfect 
 unison of exalted moral sentiments, and bound by 
 a congeniality of taste and sympathies, whose mu- 
 
SERMON XIII. 307 
 
 tual flow will never be ruffled or obstructed. Not 
 an unfriendly secret thought ever entertained for a 
 moment, by one of this great celestial fraternity ! 
 In their prolonged and blissful intercourse, not one 
 unkind word ever uttered, no jealousy or suspicion, 
 no rivalry or heated emulation, no envy or strife, 
 no alienation nor enmity to weaken "the unity of 
 the Spirit" or sever " the bonds of peace," which 
 bind them together in their high and holy fellow- 
 ship. Nothing from without nor from within inter- 
 rupts, for a moment, the sweet interchange of thought 
 between mind and mind, nothing diverts the full 
 tide of benevolent affection from its steady flow 
 from heart to heart, nothing threatens violence to 
 the delicate tie connecting congenial souls, or creates 
 a momentary apprehension that the social joys of 
 any one can ever suffer diminution. Love reigns 
 perfect and triumphant there. Think again oi the 
 glorious orders of mind which form the society of 
 that better country. Angels, and cherubim, and 
 seraphim, thrones and dominions, principalities and 
 powers, and 'Uhe spirits of just men made per- 
 fect," all harmonized in one blissful family, all in 
 sweet and absolute subjection to the great law of 
 love, all perfected in the exercise of the highest and 
 holiest affections of their nature, lovely and loving 
 one another, intent on imparting happiness to each 
 other to the utmost of their capacities without in- 
 termission and for ever! When we reflect on liie 
 exalted faculties they possess, their lofty and enno- 
 bling tlicmcs of thought, their susceptibility of ten- 
 der and profound emotion, the intimate union in 
 which they exist, and the perfect proportion and 
 
308 SERMON XIII. 
 
 harmony established between their intellectual per- 
 ceptions of the loveliness of moral qualities and 
 their heart's zest, and appreciation of it, the social 
 joys of that better country seem greater than all 
 the bliss we ever conceived of as existing in heaven. 
 But the crowning glory of the celestial society is, 
 that each one, in addition to the sweet and unre- 
 stricted intercourse which he has with all others, is 
 permitted to have free and full communion with 
 God the Father, and close and endearing fellowship 
 with his Son Jesus Christ, through the eternal Spi- 
 rit ! What may be the social joys of a finite mind 
 thus imbosomed in the presence, love and smiles of 
 the infinite Jehovah, it would be presumption to 
 conjecture. As we dwell on the overmatching 
 theme, we cannot but exclaim, " ! Lord, this suf- 
 ficeth for the best society — the most ardent and ca- 
 pacious social longings of the mightiest creature 
 Thou hast made, can ask no more !" 
 
 IV. Another feature in the heavenly country that 
 makes it better than earth, is, that it has infinitely 
 better employments. The service which the Chris- 
 tian renders to his God here, is an imperfect and 
 often intermitted service. In this world the em- 
 ployment and pursuits of the regenerated mind, 
 whilst they aim at the best ends hy the use of the 
 best means, are, nevertheless, subject to be inter- 
 rupted, and rendered sadly unsuccessful by sin. 
 This is the land of conflict, not of triumph. Much 
 of the Christian's present employment consists in 
 his great and agonizing struggle, not only with the 
 remaining sins of his own heart, but with "princi- 
 palities and powers, the ru^lers of the darkness of 
 
SERMON xiir. 309 
 
 ibis world, with spiritual wickedness in high places." 
 His chief pursuit is that of a good soldier of Jesus 
 Christ, enduring the hardness of the camp, and ply- 
 ing the whole armour of God against his numerous 
 and subtle foes, in the good fight of faith. Instead 
 of exultation and praise, therefore, he is often em- 
 ployed in deep penitence and importunate prayer. 
 And even in his benevolent efforts to do good to 
 others, he experiences, both from without and from 
 within, a resistance which greatly deducts from his 
 success. But the country he desires is "a better 
 country," because it has incomparably better em- 
 ployments. There the very first play of the immor- 
 tal powers will be in the transports of a perfect and 
 final victory over sin, death, and hell. All foes 
 without, and foes within, will then have been eter- 
 nally vanquished. Conflict will be exchanged for 
 triumph, penitence and importunate prayer for the 
 joys of a ratified and everlasting pardon, and for the 
 work of praise, perpetual love and gratitude, faith 
 for unclouded absolute vision, hope for actual pos- 
 session and enjoyment. Hear the rapt Apostle de- 
 scribe the employments of that better ^country — 
 '^And they rest not day and night, saying Holy, 
 holy, holy Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, 
 and is to come." "And I heard a voice from hea- 
 ven, as the voice of many waters, and as the voice 
 of a great thunder, and I heard the voice of harpers, 
 harping with their harps, and they sung, as it were, 
 a new song, before the throne. These were the re- 
 deemed from among men, being the first-fruits unto 
 God, and to the Lamb. And they sung the song 
 of Moses, the servant of God, and the song of the 
 
310 SERMON XIII. 
 
 Lamb, saying, Great and marvellous are Thy works, 
 Lord God Almighty, just and true are Thy ways, 
 Thou King of Saints. After this, I beheld, and lo! 
 a great multitude, which no man could number, of 
 all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, 
 stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed 
 with white robes and palms in their hands, and cried 
 with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God 
 which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb." 
 What an employment for redeemed immortal spi- 
 rits! Praise, eternal praise, to Jehovah, the raptu- 
 rous exercise of redeemed souls perfected in love, 
 and confirmed in holiness, and transferred to "those 
 pure and peaceful realms of rest," where not a 
 temptation, trial, sin, or sorrow, will interfere with 
 the easy and incessant action of their faculties through 
 immortality". 
 
 And, as employing the ministry of intelligent and 
 sanctified mind for the benefit of rational creatures, 
 and to fulfil the purposes of divine benevolence in 
 their happiness, is, doubtless, a part of the economy 
 of that better country ; then, on what errands of 
 love to other beings and other portions of the uni- 
 verse, may the redeemed be engaged! What ex- 
 alted pursuits may thus be presented to them, what 
 noble spheres of benevolent activity thus assigned 
 to them in the better arrangements of the heavenly 
 constitution; spheres ever ascending and circling 
 tlie wide domains of God, in which they will move 
 with the celerity of thought itself, fulfilling the 
 good pleasure of their God, and scattering blessings 
 on their way, on a scale of magnitudes commensu- 
 rate with eternity! 0! is not that a better country 
 
SERMON XIII. 311 
 
 which furnishes the deathless energies of mind, and 
 tlie growing aficctions of immortal hearts, sucli em- 
 ployments ! 
 
 V. It is a better country because it has a better 
 government than any on earth. The governments 
 of this world are the defective contrivances of falli- 
 ble men, and the best of them partake largely of the 
 imperfections of their authors. None of them seem 
 to attain all the ends, and secure all the interests 
 that might be attained and secured, through the me- 
 dium of well devised human governments. So 
 even the moral government of God over this world 
 is only in its progress to perfection, and not already 
 perfected here, it does not profess to administer 
 perfect retribution in the present scene. Vice often 
 {prospers and triumphs, while virtue falls in the 
 streets, and is trodden down in deep depression. 
 The great law of God is violated daily, and rebel- 
 lion unfurls and waves its banners on all the high 
 places of earth. Insubordination, misrule and anar- 
 chy mark a large majority of Jehovah's subjects in 
 this world. Now, that is a better country which 
 the Christian desires, because it has a better govern- 
 ment. In proof of this, you need only be reminded 
 that there the moral government of God is abso- 
 lutely perfect. Virtue there is rewarded to the 
 whole extent of its merit, vice is punished in the 
 exact degree of its demerit, and is completely ex- 
 cluded, caged, and confined, at such an infinite re- 
 move, as to render its encroachments on that go- 
 vernment for ever impossible. There is not one 
 rebel amongst all the myriads of subjects in that 
 better countr}^, not one heart that cherishes for a 
 
312 SERMON XIII. 
 
 moment a solitary disloyal thought. The law of 
 God there is obeyed perfectly^ the will of God 
 there is done absolutely , all the good pleasure of 
 his goodness is executed with an infinite prompti- 
 tude and cordiality . The control of his govern- 
 ment over the whole extent of that country is om- 
 nipotent, not a good thought unrewarded, no right 
 of the lowest subject even for a moment jeoparded, 
 infinite wisdom, benevolence,and almightiness,hold- 
 ing the reins, and warding off all disturbances from 
 the movements of his administration, as he carries 
 it forward through immortality, dispensing bound- 
 less blessings to its subjects! Love, loyalty, obe- 
 dience, cordial and absolute subjection to God, hal- 
 lowed regard, benevolent respect for each other's 
 rights, and a deep and eternal interest in each other's 
 happiness, are the unchanging characteristics of the 
 governed, and the blessed and unfailing fruits of the 
 government in that better country. What wonder 
 that the scriptures speak of " the glorious majesty 
 of His kingdom." To form any adequate concep- 
 tion of the moral government of Jehovah as it exists, 
 and is administered in heaven, is one of the most 
 sublime exercises of the human intellect, and in- 
 volves some of the highest forms of thought. The 
 myriads of rational accountable agents which it con- 
 trols, alike in the nearest and most remote world of 
 space, the harmony, holiness, and happiness, which 
 it sustains and increases in an endless progression, 
 and the manifestations of divine glory which it gives 
 as the great organ or instrumentality by which he 
 reigns, and effects the stupendous purposes of his 
 benevolence throughout the universe, invest the 
 
SERMON XIII. 313 
 
 moral government of God with an ineffable grandeur 
 and majesty ! What wonder that the Christian, 
 surrounded by the imperfections and mal-adminis- 
 tralion of human governments, and by the resistance 
 and rebellion of sinners against the divine govern- 
 ment in this world, should desire a better country, 
 that is, a heavenly, where God's eternal govern- 
 ment, perfected and approved, is diffusing the infi- 
 nitude of its blessings to his wide dominions! 
 
 VI. The heavenly is a better country, because it 
 has better prospects. The prospects that open on 
 worldly men in reference to different localities on 
 earth, have great influence on their estimate of a 
 better country. Such is the constitution of the hu- 
 man mind, that it can never be wholly satisfied with 
 present possessions and attainments. It seems ne- 
 cessary to the completeness of our happiness, as ra- 
 tional and forecasting creatures, that we should at 
 all periods of our existence have some real or ima- 
 ginary good in prospect. True, the Christian in 
 this world has his prospects, brighter far than those 
 of worldly minds. From the first dawn of spiritual 
 day, of saving light in his soul, he has the general 
 and comprehensive prospect of being translated to 
 that better country, with all its benign and blessed 
 arrangements. But this prospect varies with the 
 varying strength of his faith, and the unsteady 
 shinings of his hope. In this world it is not a per- 
 manently bright and settled prospect. Indeed, it is 
 not improbable that one of the greatest changes that 
 will occur in the soul in consequence of its entrance 
 into the better country, will be in reference to its 
 prospects. Surrounded, as it will be there, with 
 27 
 
314 SERMON XIII. 
 
 objects of such material glory — placed in such a lo- 
 cality — associated with such society, God and the 
 Lamb being a part — triumphant over ail the perils 
 and the woes of this state, and having engaged in 
 such employments, and being the happy subject of 
 such a government as characterize the economy of 
 heaven — what prospects of ineffable and transcend- 
 ent glory may then burst on his enraptured vision! 
 No fear that his most exalted and capacious aspira- 
 tions will ever be checked or fail of being realized. 
 Knowledge, the knowledge of God, in its most au- 
 gust displays in that better country, opens its ex- 
 haustless stores, and spreads out before him its rich 
 treasures, glittering along the line of eternal ages, 
 and luring on his dilating capacities to make attain- 
 ments that far surpass what angels now know. Yea, 
 he has the prospect of "knowing even as he is 
 known " — of having a kind of quick and ubiquitous 
 intuition^ by which he will yet see through all the 
 works and ways of God, and have a range and com- 
 prehension of thought greater than we ordinarily 
 attribute to Omniscience itself! Nor are the Chris- 
 tian's prospects less bright there in reference to at- 
 tainments in all those moral qualities, those exalted 
 virtues, which, when extended without limit, con- 
 stitute the infinite perfections of Jehovah. Holi- 
 ness, transformation into the likeness of the Son of 
 God, displays to him its mighty degrees on the scale 
 of immortality, and opens a prospect of attainments 
 which, during the revolutions of eternal years, may 
 accumulate upon his soul an aggregation of spiritual 
 qualities, that will bring him nearer and make him 
 more like to God than the loftiest and brightest se- 
 
SERMON XIII. 315 
 
 raph before the throne is at present. So stupendous 
 are the changes of this kind in prospect, that were 
 it possible for the redeemed soul when it shall have 
 realized them, to revisit our earth, that soul would 
 be devoutly adored by prostrate millions, and would 
 pour a tide of glory over the whole globe, incom- 
 parably greater than blinded sinners ever conceived 
 of, as belonging to God himself! 
 
 And what must be the prospects of happiness 
 which open on the Christian in that better country? 
 In one view his prospects are brighter far than those 
 of angels. His intimate and mysterious spiritual 
 union with the Lamb on the throne, and the joys 
 resulting from this and from his personal interest 
 and participation in all the glorious and eternal is- 
 sues of the scheme of redeeming grace and dying 
 love, belong not to angels. This opens a new and 
 bright vista through immortality, along which no 
 angePs eye can look with the hopes and expectancy 
 of a redeemed human spirit. The fulness of joy and 
 the rivers of pleasure at God's right hand proffer 
 their exhaustless resources alike and equally to the 
 ever-expanding capacities of saints and angels; and 
 the prospect of drinking from these through an end- 
 less duration is indeed a prospect of bliss sufficient, 
 one would think, to overwhelm imagination itself, 
 even in the excursive capability and immortal ener- 
 gies with which it will be endowed in that better 
 country. But to be for ever on the throne with 
 Jesus — to be bathed for ever in the beams of his 
 blessed face — to be modelled, soul and body, after 
 the exact image of his glorified human nature — to 
 praise for ever his redeeming grace and dying love 
 
316 SERMON XITI. 
 
 ■ — to be drawn for ever nearer to his holy bosom by 
 the tie that united us to him in this world, and to 
 have our hearts meet his, reciprocally warm with 
 the mutual love of the Redeemer and the redeemed, 
 oh, this is the prospect that belongs only to the ran- 
 somed from amongst men, and that gilds the Chris- 
 tian's immortah'ty wnth " a far more exceeding and 
 eternal weight of glory!" 
 
 Such are the prospects of the heavenly country. 
 Are they not '^ better ^^ prospects? As we turn 
 away from them to earth, how dim and diminutive 
 does every thing appear that it has to offer to hu- 
 man hope and aspiration! We instinctively raise 
 our eyes again, and strive to look through the por- 
 tals of that better country with a penetrating gaze 
 that may compass and linger still on those prospects 
 of transcendent glory that brighten and extend along 
 the dateless ages of eternity!" 
 
 Lastly. — It is a better country, because it is cha- 
 racterized by a glorious spiritualism^ or an assem- 
 blage of resplendent spiritual objects or qualities 
 as far superior to all manifestations of the divine 
 perfections and of human virtues in this world as 
 heaven is to earth. This is infinitely the brightest 
 and best feature in the constitution of the celestial 
 world. The utter impotency of the human mind 
 adequately to conceive of or describe this feature 
 must stand confessed. On this point the scriptures 
 themselves attempt no detailed description. The 
 beloved disciple, for whom the veil that conceals 
 that better country w^as once momentarily raised, 
 had a glimpse of this spiritualism; but in reference 
 to it he gives us only an indirect suggestion, in that 
 
SERMON XIII. 317 
 
 pregnant and remarkable declaration — " And I saw 
 7X0 temple therein; for the Lord God Almighty 
 AND THE Lamb are the temple of it. And the city- 
 had no need of the sun, neither of the moon to shine 
 in it; for the glory of God did lighten it, and the 
 Lamb is the light thereof P^ What must be the 
 nature and character of the spiritual objects or quali- 
 ties there to justif}^ this language and these allusions, 
 which indicate that the manifestations of Jehovali's 
 perfections are such, the visible displays of his glory, 
 as perceived and reflected from other holy minds, 
 so great, that they form a temple of sufficient ampli- 
 tude and magnificence to correspond with all the 
 other august arrangements of the place, and to be 
 adapted to the number and the exalted natures of 
 the celestial worshippers; and still more, that these 
 revelations of his own infinite attributes are so stu- 
 pendous as to form one vast firmament, sufficient, 
 in its dense and glowing splendours, to light the 
 whole extent of that better country, and to invest 
 every object with an intense and dazzling radiancy! 
 Oh, how do the refined materialism, the sublime 
 locality, the select society, the ennobling employ- 
 ments, and the bright prospects of heaven dwindle 
 in the comparison with, or rather borrow all their 
 lustre from, this effulgence of the Godhead, which 
 takes precedence of all temples made with hands, 
 and of all created suns and stars — and will more than 
 supply the place of spacious walls, and lofty dome, 
 and gorgeous garniture — and will pour its eternal 
 tide of brightness on the immortal throng of wor- 
 shippers before the throne! 
 
 My dear Christian friends, such is the better 
 27^ 
 
318 SERMON XIII. 
 
 country which you profess to desire — such the 
 home and the prospects that await you in the hea- 
 venly world. Are you living as the expectants of 
 so glorious an inheritance? Oh, it would seem that 
 this better country had a power of allurement which 
 might be felt by every intelligence, except the 
 fiends of perdition and the souls of earth, that are 
 <■' dead in trespasses and in sins!'' Christians, open 
 your eyes to the brightness, and your hearts to the 
 warmth of that heaven, to wake and lure you thither. 
 Confess yourselves strangers and pilgrims on earth, 
 and live, like them, with the end of your pilgrim- 
 age steadily in your eye, and the better country fully 
 in your heart. 
 
 " Seeing ye look for such things, what manner of 
 persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and 
 godliness?'' Will not the beams of that bright and 
 blessed world win you away from the darkness of 
 backsliding and distance from God? Would that 
 all God's people had their hearts and their hopes 
 full of heaven; then would their listlessness be 
 broken up, the fetters of their captivity stricken 
 off, and their souls winged to follow holiness, and 
 to soar and shine till they actually became as suns 
 and stars in the firmament of God for ever. 
 
 Such too. Christian, is the better country — even 
 a heavenly — to which your efforts for the salva- 
 tion of sinners may raise them. Oh ! do your efforts 
 correspond to the magnitude and grandeur of the 
 destinies that may be affected by them? The hea- 
 ven now described is the home to which, by the 
 blessing of God, you may introduce the soul of your 
 exiled fellow man. Oh, this consideration ought to 
 
SERMON XIII, 319 
 
 send you, with an angel's speed, and glowing with 
 an angel's zeal, and girded with an angel's strength, 
 to the perishing souls of sinners, praying them to 
 be reconciled to God! If you convert one soul 
 from the error of its way, the infinite glories of that 
 better country will bless that soul, and be your re- 
 ward for ever. 
 
 Finally. — My dear, impenitent hearers, the bet- 
 ter country now described is the bright lure by 
 which God would win you to the obedience of the 
 faith. He opens the portals of that resplendent 
 realm, and calls you to repent beneath the melting 
 beams that shine through upon your present dark- 
 ness. He calls upon you to believe on the Lord 
 Jesus Christ beneath the visions of that eternal 
 throne which the redeemed shall share with him in 
 heaven ! He girds you around with the light and the 
 warmth of that genial world — gives you a glimpse of 
 its prospects of ineffable glory — hails your ear with 
 its songs and shouts of immortal victor}^, its an- 
 thems and transporting hallelujahs — and then asks 
 you if, blind and deaf to sights and sounds like 
 these, you will still madly rebel, and plunge your- 
 selves into the blackness of darkness, into the weep- 
 ing and wailing of perdition! 0! impenitent hear- 
 ers, let me implore you to answer this question to 
 your God by the full-souled negation — "No, blessed 
 God! — melted by heaven's warmth, directed by 
 heaven's light, and won by heaven's love, we come 
 — ive come in penitence, faith, and submission, and 
 cast our souls on Thee for full redemption and an 
 eternal inheritance in the better country, through 
 the blood of the Lamb!" 
 
320 ADDRESS. 
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 DELIVERED AT THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE 
 
 AMERICAN BIBLE SOICETY, IN THE 
 
 CITY OF NEW YORK, MAY, 1836. 
 
 That the Bible has exerted certain influences on 
 man, no intelligent infidel will deny. 
 
 It is a fact equally indisputable that these influ- 
 ences have followed the possession of the scriptures 
 every where, with a uniformity as unbroken as that 
 which characterizes the connexion between physi- 
 cal cause and effect. And this fact, in itself, is no 
 mean incidental proof of the divinity of the holy 
 oracles. It separates them from all merely human 
 productions by an immeasurable chasm. The most 
 gifted master-spirits of the world have left but few 
 monuments of their genius that have exerted any 
 wide-spread or permanent influence on our race. 
 The declaration of the Psalmist, in another case, is 
 literally true of their mightiest mental efforts, — 
 " They disquiet themselves in vaiiiJ^ By far the 
 greater part of the struggles and the attainments of 
 the distinguished minds of all classes uninfluenced 
 by the Bible are this day as though they had never 
 been. They have left no deep and enduring im- 
 pression on human nature. Of all who have lived 
 and laboured, and died and passed from this terres- 
 
ADDRESS. 321 
 
 trial scene, liow few have wrought into their pro- 
 ductions those living, eternal truths, or those forms 
 of universal, and unfading beauty, that will carry 
 conviction to the intellect, and a divine charm to 
 the heart, wherever man is found, till the close of 
 time! Homer, amongst the poets, and Aristotle, 
 amongst philosophers, have had a more extended 
 and enduring sway over their species than any un- 
 inspired writers. Yet, how many hearts have been 
 waked to deep devotion and thrilled with holy de- 
 light by David's harp that would remain unmoved 
 by the Grecian bard. How many minds have been 
 captivated by the logic of Paul, and felt the rapture 
 of the noblest convictions of reason, on whom the 
 metaphysical acumen and mystic refinement of an 
 Aristotle would be utterly lost. Since the Penta- 
 teuch has been written, the scriptures have had an 
 unbroken influence on some portion of mankind. 
 The Jewish nation, during the lapse of twenty-five 
 centuries, embracing certain periods of the grossest 
 moral darkness and profligacy in the annals of the 
 world, exhibit a striking proof of the deep and per- 
 manent control of divine revelation. Their know*- 
 ledge of the true God — their rites and ceremonies — 
 their code of civil and criminal laws — their state 
 polity and their moral virtues, compared with those 
 of contemporary nations, furnish ample testimony 
 to the power of those " lively oracles" committed 
 to their keeping. 
 
 Nor may we omit to notice here that compre- 
 hensive adaptation to each sex, and all the grada- 
 tions of age and station — that sweeping universality 
 of influence on man which excludes not one of the 
 
322 ADDRESS. 
 
 species, and is the distinguishing characteristic of 
 the Bible. The beautiful lan^uaofe of the Psalmist 
 in reference to the sun is equally applicable to it, — 
 " His going forth is from the end of the heaven, and 
 his circuit unto the ends of it; and there is nothing 
 hid from the heat thereof." The poetry, the phi- 
 losophy, the civil policy, the laws, the literature, 
 the manners, and the morals of the civilized world 
 have felt its omnipresent sway, and borrowed from 
 its peerless beauty, its wisdom, and its sublimity. 
 
 Now, aside from its direct instrumentality in con- 
 verting the soul, where is the book that will com- 
 pare with the Bible in its diffusive and permanent 
 influence on man? Yet this book, more than any 
 other, has had to encounter, in all ages, the gigantic 
 enmity and opposition of a world lying in wicked- 
 ness. It has had to meet and overcome all the re- 
 sistance which the aggregate depravity of earth and 
 hell could oppose to the progress of its influence. 
 More glorious from the struggle, and triumphant in 
 every conflict, it has been and is now influencing 
 the dearest hopes and loftie^ aspirings of millions 
 blest by its light. 
 
 It has diff'used itself, by translations, into one 
 hundred and fifty different languages and dialects, 
 spoken by two-thirds or three-fourths of the entire 
 family of man. Indeed, He who is said to " have 
 created every thing double, a world without and a 
 world within,'^ has given his word such an adapta- 
 tion to the moral constitution of man, as clearly to 
 indicate the ultimate and universal sway which re- 
 velation is destined to hold over human nature. 
 The most striking feature in this adaptation, and one 
 
ADDRESS. 323 
 
 prophetic of tlie all-compreliensive and permanent 
 power of the Bible over our race, is its capability of 
 deeply influencing the young. *' Wherewithal shall 
 a young tnan cleanse his way? — hy taking heed 
 thereto according to Thy word.^^ 
 
 When we contemplate the powers and suscepti- 
 bilities of the young man's mind, perverted as they 
 are, by the apostacy, and connect in our view that 
 derangement in the world without, produced by the 
 same cause, we find him, from both these sources, 
 warred upon by influences adapted to work out his 
 degradation and ruin. On his moral life there is a 
 constant action of unfriendly influences, not unlike 
 the play of those disastrous physical elements on 
 natural life, which renders all animal existence one 
 prolonged conflict. Every young man, in his alie- 
 nation from God, carries about with him the seeds 
 of self-degradation and ruin. This, however humi- 
 liating, is no libel on fallen human nature. The 
 young man enters on his way with numerous and 
 powerful passions, uncontrolled even by the slender 
 checks which a more extended experience and ob- 
 servation might furnish. The course of this pre- 
 sent world, marred as it is by sin, affords ample 
 means of indulgence, and a multitude of occasions 
 to stimulate youthful passion. Now, moral philo- 
 sophy has established no truth more clearly than 
 this, that God has assigned certain limits to all the 
 gratifications of our sensitive nature, beyond which 
 man cannot go, without incurring degradation and 
 misery. All that the young man, then, has to do 
 in order to ensure sorrow and ruin, is simply to dis- 
 regard and over-step those boundaries which the 
 
324 ADDRESS. 
 
 Creator has affixed to the indulgence of his passions. 
 It is a fearful fact in our blended physical and 
 moral constitution, that the most innocent propen- 
 sity of human nature may effectually destroy cha- 
 racter and happiness, merely by unlimited gratifi- 
 cation. It is a spectacle of solemn and sorrowful 
 interest, to behold a young man commencing the 
 career of life with that wonderful mechanism of de- 
 sire and passion, which constitutes the sensitive part 
 of his nature, deprived of its great balance by the 
 fall, and acting with their regularity and direful in- 
 tensity consequent on such a deprivation! The ar- 
 dour of youth is proverbial. The war which his 
 own passions wage on his character and happiness, 
 if he be left unaided in the conflict, will be a war of 
 victory and extermination. The sad spoils of its 
 triumph are strown on the pathway of man}^ an in- 
 considerate youth. Amongst the young men of 
 this day, the wrecks of reputation, hope, usefulness, 
 happiness, and life, effected by the lion-like power 
 of their own indomitable passions, are truly melan- 
 choly and appalling! We may exclaim in the lan- 
 guage of inspiration, in another case — "Come, see 
 what desolations" are thus " wrought " amongst our 
 beloved youth. ' "Behold how great a matter a little 
 fire" of unhallowed, unrestrained passion, "kin- 
 dleth!" Now, " v^^herewithal shall a young man," 
 in this respect, " cleanse his way?" Where shall 
 we find a balance that will equalize the movements 
 of this dangerous machinery of fallen human nature? 
 How shall we save the young man from becoming 
 the victim of his own unbridled propensities? Where 
 shall we find an influence that will furnish an ade- 
 
ADDRESS. 325 
 
 quale counteraction to the violent impulse of youth- 
 ful passions? In the Bible alone. This holy Book 
 meets the young man in his way, and with a com- 
 manding and a divine authority, defines and speci- 
 fies the limits which the Creator has assigned to the 
 gratification of all his passions and appetites, and on 
 those limits places the "flaming sword " of God's 
 prohibition, to deter him from transgressing. It 
 exhorts "young men to be sober-minded," to rule 
 their own spirits, to " let their moderation be known 
 unto all men." Nor are these as the cold advisory 
 precepts of human philosophy. The Bible, more 
 than all books of philosophy or morals, reveals those 
 tremendous sanctions adapted to over-awe the way- 
 wardness and impetuosity of youthful passions. 
 With an intuitive knowledge of that love of happi- 
 ness, and aversion to pain, which are so quick and 
 powerful in their impulses on the young heart, the 
 Bible displays to him the contrasted consequences 
 of obedience and rebellion. It puts in one scale 
 the momentary gratifications of sin, and in the other 
 those prolonged pains and penalties that come upon 
 the sinner by way of natural retribution in the pre- 
 sent life, and shows him that the former, weighed 
 against the latter, are but "as the dust of the ba- 
 lance." It discloses the certain and inseparable 
 connexion between moral cause and effect, and af- 
 firms that, " though hand join in hand, iniquity shall 
 not go unpunished." It does more. The Bible 
 alone makes those definite and appalling disclosures 
 of the consequences of sin on man's /ullage and 
 endless life, which exert the greatest restraining 
 force that can be brought to bear on a free moral 
 28 
 
326 ADDRESS. 
 
 agent. The strongest lure to the hopes, and the 
 most tremendous appeal to the fears of human na- 
 ture, are found in the awards of the judgment-seat, 
 and in the vivid reality with which the Bible in- 
 vests heaven and hell, as the ultimate destination of 
 the righteous and the wicked. How admirably 
 adapted is such a book to extend a controlling influ- 
 ence over the young man, to curb, by its stupen- 
 dous sanctions, "the fountains of the great deep" 
 of depravity within himself, and to impel him to 
 the most strenuous eflforts of self-denial and self-go- 
 vernment. Like its Divine author, the Bible only 
 has an omnipotence that can ride upon the whirl- 
 wind, and direct the storm of youthful passion. 
 But, assuming that the young man is saved from the 
 destructive sway of baleful passions within, still all 
 the exigencies of his condition are not met, while 
 there is no adequate and effective force to oppose to 
 the multiform appliances of temptation from with- 
 out. The contagion of bad example, or the infiu- 
 ence of evil companionship, may effect his degra- 
 dation and ruin. It is amongst the mysteries of 
 our present being, that the mortal and immortal 
 destinies of man should be subject to so decisive an 
 influence from his fellow-man. No fact is more ob- 
 viously taught, or amply attested in the social his- 
 tory of the world, than that " he that walketh with 
 wise men shall be wise, but a companion of fools 
 shall be destroyed." Now, on no class is the 
 power of fellowship so great as on the young, and 
 on young men especially. It is in youth that the 
 principle of imitation, and the desire of social inter- 
 course, act with greatest intensity. If the circle of 
 
ADDRESS. 327 
 
 companionsliip be known on wliich a young man 
 enters wl^cn lie first quits tlic paternal roof, it re- 
 quires no prophetic spirit to predict his future cha- 
 racter and career. Conformity to his associates, is 
 the taw of his nature. To any young man, un- 
 guarded by the power of God's truth, the tempta- 
 tions of a round of vicious company will be utterly 
 over-matching. He has no principle inherent in 
 his fallen nature that can oppose to them an effec- 
 tive resistance. The influence of wicked confede- 
 rates on the youthful mind is supreme and control- 
 ling. If not counteracted, that influence will ulti- 
 mately seduce, corrupt, and destroy, any young 
 man who is kept within its potent and deadly sweep. 
 The close observation and painful solicitude of 
 parents and teachers over the young give them an 
 appalling view of the power of "one sinner to de- 
 stroy much good." And although the man who 
 will deliberately seduce his fellow man be, in some 
 respects, ivorse than the devil — for Satan has not a 
 community of nature and of sympathies with men — 
 yet there are never wanting, in any society, some 
 foul, malignant spirits, who prosecute this work of 
 their gloomy father with a zeal and industr}^, a ma- 
 levolent exultation at success, and a growing ambi- 
 tion for further triumphs worthy the great destroyer 
 himself, in the enmity and energies of his superhu- 
 man nature. Few young men are born to so select 
 a circle of companionship as not to meet in their 
 way the arts and the wiles of these incarnate fiends. 
 "Wherewithal," then, "shall a young man cleanse 
 his way? by taking heed thereto according to Thy 
 word." It is the Bible whicii discloses, in all their 
 
328 ADDRESS. 
 
 magnitude, the consequences of wicked companion- 
 ship, and the decisive influence it exerts on the high- 
 est destinies of men for two worlds. Indeed, this 
 topic extends through almost all the historical por- 
 tions of the sacred volume, and is found in many of 
 its direct precepts and teachings. In the companion- 
 ships of Eli's sons — in the history of the associates 
 of some of the younger kings of Israel — in the con- 
 federacies which Solomon formed in early life, as 
 well as in the alliances of the younger part of the 
 Jewish nation with the neighbouring heathen youth, 
 the Bible utters a voice of warning to the young 
 man, as to the choice of his companions, solemn and 
 awful as if spoken in the "seven thunders'' from 
 beneath the eternal throne! It meets him on his 
 entrance into society with an appeal adapted to win 
 upon the generous feelings of the young heart, by 
 assuring him, ^'Blessed is the man that walketh not 
 astray in the counsel of the ungodly, nor sitteth in 
 the seat of the scornful." It teaches him with all 
 earnestness to pray, " Gather not my soul with sin- 
 ners, nor my life with bloody men; in whose hands 
 is mischief, and their right hand is full of bribes." 
 It expostulates with him, "Be not deceived; evil 
 communications corrupt good manners." And it 
 finally declares, with the emphasis of doom, " The 
 companion of fools shall be destroyed!" The 
 Bible, then, is pre-eminently adapted to throw over 
 the young man a mightier shield than the fabled one 
 that fell down from Jupiter; and to furnish him, by 
 its encouragements and its warnings, an adequate 
 protection from the most insidious and seductive of 
 all baleful influences from without, tending to his 
 
ADDRESS. 329 
 
 ilcstriiction. And such is actually its salutary power 
 on many a young mind that is not savingly enlight- 
 ened by its holy truths. A striking individual ex- 
 ample of this occurs to me amongst the recollections 
 of my academic life. A youth, from the bosom of 
 a pious family, entered college with me. He was 
 of prepossessing personal appearance, of great polish 
 and urbanity in his manners, strictly moral, and pos- 
 sessing a singularly gifted mind. His respect for 
 the word of God, and his dally pei^usal of it, was a 
 subject of grateful remark by the pious, and of en- 
 venomed ridicule by the wricked of his fellow stu- 
 dents. Just as long as he held daily converse with 
 his Bible he effectually resisted "the enticements 
 of sinners;" he was unmoved by the flattery or the 
 frowns, the threats or the persuasions of wicked 
 companions, and retained the integrity of his mo- 
 rals and his high grade of scholarship. But, in an 
 evil hour he forsook the divine oracles, and then 
 his progress in vice began; he fell an easy prey to 
 the artful allurements of more hardened transgres- 
 sors, dashed headlong into the wildest excess, and 
 ended his collegiate course in infamy, and in an un- 
 successful attempt at suicide! Would he ever have 
 reached so ignominious a goal had he held up the 
 word of God as " a light to his feet and a lamp to 
 his path" in the perilous race of life? 
 
 But mere protection — a successful counteracting 
 of the causes that combine to degrade and ruin the 
 young man — by no means meets all the wants of 
 his nature. If his intellectual and moral endow- 
 ments are worthy the shield and the buckler of 
 God's truth for their defence, then their right di- 
 28* 
 
330 ADDRESS. 
 
 rection must be an object of unspeakable moment. 
 That influence which connects the busy energies of 
 the young mind with the highest pursuits, and 
 guides them successfully to the noblest achieve- 
 ments within the limits of human agency, is, in 
 some respects, even more important than that which 
 merely protects them from injury. Within every 
 youthful mind there is an elastic coil of spiritual 
 force, which, if connected with a suitable mecha- 
 nism in the moral world, may effect stupendous re- 
 sults for good. Youth is notoriously the time for 
 action and arduous enterprise. It is the season when 
 those mysterious energies that distinguish mind from 
 matter, and that characterize the undying and eter- 
 nal element of human nature, stir themselves up, 
 and seek to grapple with objects of a magnitude and 
 grandeur suited to their inherent force. 
 
 Every young man not degraded by gross sensu- 
 ality and vice feels, at intervals, a restless and un- 
 controllable desire after some sphere of noble daring 
 and lofty achievement. He is aware that there is 
 a great disproportion between his newly matured 
 and vigorous capabilities, and all the ordinary em- 
 ployments and pursuits of life. He is occasionally 
 conscious of irrepressible aspirations after a wider 
 sphere and more exalted enterprises. The young 
 mind, somewhat like the young animal frame, seems 
 to demand and to delight in those athletic exercises 
 which tax its strength to the utmost. This is pro- 
 bably a fragment of man's original exalted ambition 
 in innocence, still discoverable amidst the wreck 
 and the tragic overthrow of his nature. The Bible 
 itself clearly recognises this peculiarity in the con- 
 
ADDRESS. 331 
 
 stitution of the young man, by the declaration, " I 
 write unio 1/ on ng men, because ye are strong." 
 Indeed, it would seem as though the young mind 
 might have a most powerful presentiment of its own 
 immortality from the very struggles and puttings 
 forth of its present strength. This unwasted and 
 awful might in the young spirit betokens alike its 
 deathless nature and the high destiny to which it 
 may rise in a future scene of being. Now, chroni- 
 cles of wars, of conquests, of military glory, and of 
 universal dominion, have been the books which 
 have too often and too long usurped the direction 
 of that aggregate of gigantic energies in the young 
 man, that pants and burns for a wider and freer arena 
 of action than is furnished by the limited pursuits 
 of every-day life. It was the perusal of such books, 
 and the intense contemplation of such scenes and 
 characters as they describe, that first fired the un- 
 conquerable ambition of young Napoleon, and of 
 the youthful Alexander, and misguided their terrific 
 powers to the destruction of half the world. If 
 these two most illustrious murderers of their spe- 
 cies in their youth had taken heed to their vvay, ac- 
 cording to the word of God, how different might 
 have been their careers and their destinies, and how 
 different the results of their lives and actions on the 
 great interests of human nature! The Bible is the 
 only book that can give a safe direction to the 
 strength and executive capabilities of the young 
 mind. And, as though it had been written with 
 specific reference to this fact, it presents all those 
 objects of pursuit, and that enlarged and attractive 
 sphere of action^ so peculiarly adapted to tlie ardent 
 
332 ADDRESS. 
 
 desires and lofty emulation of young men. It re- 
 veals achievements sufficiently vast and sublime to 
 tax the utmost capacity of deep emotion, and to give 
 ample scope for the play of all the untiring and im- 
 mortal activities of the young man. The Bible 
 meets him in the commencement of his way, and 
 presents the woy^ld as the wide theatre on which 
 his capabilities of action may be displayed. Yes, 
 the WHOLE WORLD — not in the attractions of wealth, 
 and fame, and power, and temporal dominion. The 
 acquisition of all these would be a poor achieve- 
 ment for those wondrous spiritual forces in the 
 young mind which make it but a "little lower than 
 the angels." No; the Bible presents the whole 
 world to him, in the most serious relations and au- 
 gust interests in which it can be contemplated by 
 intelligent beings. It is shown to him as a world 
 in revolt from its God, yet reclaimable, and to he 
 reclaimed by the instrumentality of mind in the 
 use of those means which its Maker has appointed. 
 What objects of magnitude and grandeur are here 
 presented to enlist the energies and noble daring of 
 the young man! To do battle with all the igno- 
 rance of God and of duty, with all the errors and 
 prejudices, the superstitions, idolatry, skepticism, 
 and fortified enmity of a world lying in wickedness, 
 gives scope for a higher courage, and a more inflex- 
 ible purpose of mind, and bespeaks a more sublime 
 conflict, than the greatest of earth's warriors ever 
 knew. To have an agency in combating and con- 
 quering those tremendous forces of moral evil that 
 have been at work for nearly six thousand years, 
 creating and perpetuating the giant vices that have 
 
ADDRESS. 333 
 
 cursed ilie world, is a greater and more enduring 
 glory than was ever won by a military chieftain in 
 the most splendid victory that history records. To 
 pull down those '•^strong holds^' that have been 
 reared from the granite of total depravity, and 
 cemented by the mortar of '^ the pit," and to do it. 
 by the weapons of that warfare in which the Bible 
 would enlist the young man, is the noblest achieve- 
 ment of which human nature, in its present sphere, 
 is capable. To band together with all the good and 
 the great who have identified their influence and 
 very existence with that instrumentality by which 
 the infinite God is ^^ putting to flight the armies of 
 the aliens," subduing and extirpating the monstrous 
 growths of moral evil, reclaiming this revolted pro- 
 vince to its allegiance, and preparing earth for a 
 millennial harvest of the fruits of holiness, is the 
 most honourable association, and the highest style 
 of combined action to which the young mind can 
 aspire. To connect one's sympathies and active 
 beneficence with the causes which God has put in 
 train to assuage those ponderous and aggravated 
 woes under which our common nature has been 
 crushed and groaning since the apostacy in Eden, 
 and to wield an efiective instrumentality in uphea- 
 ving and throwing them ofif from a depressed and 
 suffering race, is a destination in well-doing which 
 a ministering angel might covet! To exert an in- 
 fluence in harmonizing all the discordant elements 
 of the entire society of earth, in binding all classes 
 and castes of men, notwithstanding their former re- 
 pellencies, in the permanent bonds of brotherhood, 
 in obliterating all sinful distinctions, and breaking 
 
334 ADDRESS. 
 
 down all the arbitrary walls of partition between 
 them, in restoring long lost peace, and blending 
 heart with heart, through the whole circle of the 
 race, infinitel}^ transcends the greatest achievements 
 of diplomacy that ever characterized the cabinets of 
 nations. To exert that spiritual might which will 
 level mountains, fill up valleys, and prepare a broad 
 high-way for Messiah's triumphal car, as he rides 
 forth to the splendid conquests and regal glories of 
 his millennial reign, is a more august manifestation 
 of human power, than the noblest discoveries of 
 modern science, and constitutes an activity allied to 
 that of angels, and of the moral omnipotence of God 
 himself! 
 
 Now, these are the objects of pursuit — these the 
 exalted enterprises — this the lofty sphere of exertion 
 which the Bible presents to enlist and tax the no- 
 blest energies of the young man! And should he 
 never become truly pious, nor enter with a Chris- 
 tian spirit into this sublime department of activity, 
 yet the very contemplation of such stupendous ob- 
 jects of pursuit, and of so magnificent an arena of 
 effort as being within the reach of human aspiration 
 and attainment, will exert a great and salutary in- 
 fluence on the young man's career in the affairs of 
 life. While he remains familiar with these disclo- 
 sures of his Bible, he can never consent to grovel 
 with reptiles on a mole-hill, when he feels that he 
 is made with capacities to aspire after such objects 
 as we have now described, and to soar and shine 
 amongst "the morning stars," and to shout for joy 
 with " the sons of God." 
 
 Again. Though to feel a restless and uncontrol- 
 
ADDRESS. 335 
 
 lable desire for effort and great achievement, be an 
 inwoven part of the constitution of an ingenuous 
 youth, yet, in his moments of reflection, he must be 
 conscious that he has no great inherent ])rinciple 
 of action proportioned to tlie objects of pursuit, 
 and the sphere of exertion presented to him by the 
 divine oracles. He is sensible that he lacks the 
 great motive power necessary to secure perseve- 
 rance and success in his career of glor}^, and honour, 
 and immortality. His observation must be very 
 limited, if he have not noticed that it is for want of 
 such a governing and impelling principle, that the 
 strength of the majority of young men is utterly 
 wasted. Their course is too often influenced by 
 mere fitful impulses. Passion and caprice, in their 
 endless mutabilities, take the helm, and the noble 
 vessel, with all its sail and gallant bearing, makes 
 no steady progress, and reaches not the desired ha- 
 ven. In fallen human nature, there is no fixed and 
 commanding principle of action sufficient to secure 
 those exalted attainments of which man, considered 
 as an intelligent agent, is capable. "Mortal spirits 
 tire and faint" in those grand moral enterprises to 
 which God and duty urge us. Neither the buoy- 
 ancy of young hope, nor the force of natural cou- 
 rage, nor the fires of the most lofty ambition, will 
 avail to carry the human mind along through life in 
 an unintermitted course of benevolent activity. We 
 need a higher, a more generous and permanent 
 power of impulsion. We must have a principle of 
 action instinct with a divine energy, by which we 
 can "mount as on wings of eagles, run and not be 
 wear}^, walk and not faint." Now, the Bible prof- 
 
336 ADDRESS. 
 
 fers to the young man just such a principle. It pro- 
 poses to bring him under the sway of supreme love 
 to God and to man. Nor is this a vague mysteri- 
 ous principle of action, like the supposed ethereal 
 influence which animates and guides the heroes and 
 heroines of romance. It is the primeval law of 
 man's being, under the force of which, had he re- 
 mained unfallen, he would have accomplished all 
 the great purposes, and attained all the noble desti- 
 nies of an intelligent and immortal existence. One 
 must be little versed in the philosophy of the heart, 
 who does not see the adaptation and power of this 
 principle to impel and control all the faculties of 
 our nature, and to conduct man onward in that ex- 
 alted sphere of action, and towards that ultimate 
 and glorious destination, indicated, not less by the 
 very condition and relations of his being, than by 
 the explicit declarations of the divine oracles. In 
 the inspired history of those worthies who acted so 
 conspicuous a part in the first promulgation of Chris- 
 tianity, the Bible gives us a practical illustration of 
 the moral force of this principle. By its influence 
 alone, can we account for the unparalleled labours 
 and patient endurance of evils exhibited by the great 
 Apostle of the Gentiles. It was this which inspired 
 his moral courage, and carried his noble spirit tri- 
 umphantly through such scenes of action and of 
 suffering, as he has described in the following elo- 
 quent paragraph. "In labours more abundant, in 
 stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in 
 deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty 
 stripes, save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, 
 once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a 
 
ADDRESS. 337 
 
 night and a day I have heen in the deep: in jour- 
 neyings often, in perils of waters, in perils of rob- 
 bers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils 
 by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the 
 wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils amongst 
 false brethren, in weariness and painfulness, in 
 watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings 
 often, in cold and nakedness. Besides those things 
 that are without, that which cometh upon me daily, 
 the care of all the churches. Who is weak, and I 
 am not weak? Who is offended, and I burn not?'' 
 "The love of Christ constraineth us!" This 
 was the great master impulse that urged him on- 
 ward and upward in his shining way, till he seized 
 that crown of righteousness which the Lord, the 
 righteous judge, had prepared for him. To the vi- 
 gour and vital sway of this principle, are attributa- 
 ble the moral triumphs of the primitive Christians 
 in their dauntless withstandings of the organized 
 opposition of the heathen world — in their unwaver- 
 ing adherence to the cause of truth under the most 
 appalling persecutions and tortures — in their cease- 
 less efforts to spread the gospel and to bless the 
 world, and in their holy calm and quietude of spirit 
 when facing the terrors of the rack and the gibbet, 
 the scaffold and the stake of martyrdom. What a 
 sublime principle of action is this! fully adequate to 
 all the achievements which redeemed human nature 
 is ever destined to make. Now, the Bible proposes 
 to gather all the energies of the young man under 
 the control of such a principle, a principle which 
 eminently characterized the course of the Divine 
 Saviour himself while on earth — a principle which 
 29 
 
338 ADDRESS. 
 
 governs the diversified and untiring activities of all 
 sinless intelligences throughout the viist empire of 
 God. And here, it may be remarked, also, that 
 should the young man not become pious, nor volun- 
 tarily submit his heart to the control of this princi- 
 ple, yet the very consideration, that redeemed hu- 
 man nature is capable of being moved and directed 
 permanently by so glorious a law of activity, will 
 exert a powerful influence on the character, pursuits, 
 and principles of the young man. 
 
 True to the mental constitution of the young 
 man, the Bible not only protects from internal and 
 external causes of ruin, presents the noblest objects 
 of pursuit, urges to the loftiest deeds of Christian 
 heroism, and supplies the most powerful principle 
 of action, but it also addresses that peculiar sus- 
 ceptibility of his mind by ivhich he is led to in- 
 dulge ardent and lofty hopes. That power which 
 liolds its prism to the eye of the youthful mind, and 
 thus throws a gorgeous colouring over every future 
 object, acts now with greatest intensity, and, ac- 
 cording to the direction given to it, must necessa- 
 rily play a conspicuous part amongst those causes 
 that form the character, and contribute to the weal 
 or the wo of man. A poet has said — 
 
 "Hope springs eternal in tlie human breast." 
 
 This is not universally true. Hope springs eternal 
 in the regenerated human breast. To all others it 
 has a period, and is limited to the narrow cycles of 
 a portion of man's present being. But it cannot 
 have escaped the most ordinary observation, that 
 young men instinctively cherish great hopes. This, 
 perhaps, is the natural result of an immortal princi- 
 
ADDRESS. 339 
 
 pie — of the germ of an existence that can only de- 
 velop its appropriate powers, and enter on scenes 
 of action and enjoyment suited to its nature in a fu- 
 ture world. Or, it may be the result of that "dis- 
 proportion between the human passions and their 
 ordinary objects, which constitutes one of the strong- 
 est internal evidences of man's future destination.'' 
 Whatever may be its cause, the fact itself is indis- 
 putable; the mind of the young man eagerly com- 
 passes vast objects of hope. The pleasures of hope 
 enter largely into the sum of youthful enjoyment. 
 On the proper direction of this capability, the hap- 
 piness of the individual is, to a great extent, depen- 
 dent. 
 
 Let this passion of-high and unbounded hope be 
 stimulated by the objects which avarice, or ambi- 
 tion, or the love of fame, presents, and what will 
 be the influence exerted by it on the character and 
 happiness of the young man? It is a well known 
 law of mind, that we become assimilated to the objects 
 with which we are conversant. The truth of this 
 is demonstrated in the power of certain localities 
 and r^atural scenery to modify and give character to 
 a people. And this law of assimilation acts with the 
 greatest vigour and intensity on youth. Now, the 
 objects embraced by hope, have precisely the same 
 influence over the minds of the young, as though 
 they were present realities. If, then, this elastic 
 power expands and grasps those exciting and gorge- 
 ous objects beheld from that summit on whicii Satan 
 places the young mind, when he shows it the king- 
 doms of this world and all their glory, the disas- 
 trous influence of hope is incalculable. In such a 
 
340 ADDRESS. 
 
 case it becomes the great lure to destruction. It 
 beckons the ardent young man onward, and dazzles 
 and blinds him in the chase, till his feet stumble on 
 those dark mountains that bound the territory of 
 irrevocable ruin! And when such hopes are dis- 
 appointed, as in most instances they must be, what 
 an influence on character and happiness is thus 
 exerted. What gloom and despondency, what re- 
 bellion against the allotments of Providence, what 
 mad misanthropy, what desperation and suicide, 
 have followed the thwarting of unsanctified hopes! 
 And yet, by a permanent susceptibility of his na- 
 ture, man must indulge hope, and the you7ig man, 
 fond, enthusiastic hope. This peculiarity, then, 
 in the constitution of the young mind, cannot, with 
 safety, be given over to the control of accident, or 
 left without a competent guide. But where shall 
 such a guide be found? Who knows what is in 
 man, or what awaits him in the veiled and impene- 
 trable scenes of futurity? Who can present to him 
 legitimate objects of hope sufficiently great and 
 commanding, to fill the capacities of the soul — ob- 
 jects that shall be permanent and immutable amidst 
 the perpetual fluctuations of all terrestrial things? 
 None but God. In his revelation to man, He has 
 made a munificent provision for this want of our 
 spiritual nature. The Bible presents all those ob- 
 jects that can come legitimately within the range of 
 the mortal and immortal hopes of the young mind. 
 On its imperishable page is recorded "/Ae promise 
 of the life that now is, and of that which is to come." 
 Is it natural for the young man to hope for excel- 
 lence of character and honourable distinction in this 
 
ADDRESS. 3-11 
 
 world? The Bible presents to him the most illus- 
 trious examples of moral worth, the highest style 
 of character, and the noblest deeds of a divine he- 
 roism, and tells him that the same exhaustless grace 
 of God, which recovered and adorned our common 
 nature in the persons of those whom He sanctions 
 as the true "Heroes of History," is now freely 
 proffered to him. The Bible tells him that "the 
 honour which cometh from above," and which has 
 shed an unfading lustre on the character and lives 
 of patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and martyrs, on 
 earth, and crowned them with immortal glory in 
 heaven, is now legitimately within his reach. What 
 an honour! — the honour of having all the noble fa- 
 culties of his soul recovered from the degradation 
 of the fall, adorned with the highest endowments of 
 our moral nature, and consecrated to the exalted 
 service of his Redeemer, and to the promotion of 
 the best interests of his fellow-men — the honour of 
 being a son and heir of God, a joint heir with Jesus 
 Christ — the honour of being the object of the bene- 
 volent ministry of angels, and of being allied to all 
 the great and the good of Jehovah's dominions! 
 But this excursive capability of hope in the young 
 mind is not wholly satisfied with any thing within 
 the range of earth or the limits of time. Its un- 
 wearied wino; soon beats against the boundaries of 
 the one, and arrives at the close of the other, and 
 takes an upward and forward aim over an illimita- 
 ble and eternal future. 
 
 Now, how admirably adapted are the disclosures 
 of the Bible to this faculty of unbounded hope in 
 29* 
 
342 ADDRESS. 
 
 the young man. It brings " life and immortality to 
 light." It gives the certainty of rational evidence 
 to the truth of man's eternal existence. It presents 
 to the ardent hopes of the young a boundless scene 
 of pure and peaceful being beyond the utmost verge 
 of this life's horizon, and undimmed by the shadow 
 of death — a scene of triumphal and eternal rejoicing 
 in redeeming grace and dying love, where human 
 nature, purified and exalted, shall see the Son of 
 God as he is, and be like him, a partner of his me- 
 diatorial throne in heaven! The Bible informs him 
 that for the holy is held in certain reservation there 
 an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that 
 fadeth not away — a crown of righteousness — a 
 throne of glory — an uninterrupted and transform- 
 ing vision of Jehovah's face — an everlasting com- 
 munion and fellowship with all the pure, congenial 
 spirits of the universe — a sphere of action and en- 
 joyment, in which the soul shall expand, and rise, 
 and shine through the progressions of eternity! 
 This is "the hope set before^' the young man by 
 the gospel. It is just such a hope as may be safely 
 permitted to engross and control the capabilities 
 of the young mind. It embraces all those objects 
 adapted to exalt and ennoble human nature. " Whoso 
 hath this hope in Him purifieth himself even as He 
 is pure." It is "an anchor of the soul, both sure 
 and steadfast, and which entereth into that within 
 the veil;" thus binding the young mind to all that 
 is stable, in the future and eternal realities of hea- 
 ven, coupling it with all that is powerful and pre- 
 valent in the intercessions of the great "Forerun- 
 within that veil, and ena- 
 
ADDRESS. 343 
 
 bling it to outride the storms of earth, and to survive 
 " the wreck of matter and tiie crash of worlds." 
 
 In view of these influences exerted by the Bible 
 on young men, what philanthropist can witlihold 
 the best wishes of his heart and the noblest labours 
 of his hand from this great national society repre- 
 sented here to-day, whose object is to multiply 
 and difl'use copies of the holy scriptures, till they 
 shall come in contact with the minds of all the 
 youth of our country? The relation of this society 
 to the young men of our republic, and the influence 
 it is destined ultimately to exert on their minds, 
 foreshadow results of stupendous and incalculable 
 interest. The homage paid to the Bible by the ta- 
 lent, intelligence, and rank now enlisted in this and 
 kindred associations in other countries, and the un- 
 tiring zeal and noble devotion of some of the great- 
 est minds in diffusing the light of revealed truth, 
 have branded with infamy the sentiment once so 
 popular with young men, that it is the mark of dis- 
 tinguished intellect to neglect and affect to despise 
 the sacred oracles. Time was when such affecta- 
 tion was regarded as the index of an enviable eleva- 
 tion above the vulgar, and as the proof of that libe- 
 ralizing philosophical discrimination which distin- 
 guishes between the original principles of our na- 
 ture, and the prejudices and superstitions which ac- 
 cident or education may have superinduced upon 
 them. But that time has passed away. The Bible 
 has commanded the reverence and admiration of too 
 many gifted and mighty minds — it has laid under 
 contribution for its spread through the world too 
 high a style of beneficent action and too exalted 
 
344 ADDRESS. 
 
 qualities of moral character, and at this moment is 
 exerting on large portions of civilized and educated 
 man, too deep and controlling an influence, to per- 
 mit mere cavilling and contemptuous skepticism to 
 pass currently any longer as a mark of genius! 
 The very existence of this society demonstrates to 
 our young men that the holy volume has come fortli 
 unharmed and in renovated splendour from the 
 deadly attacks of the French and English infidelity 
 of a past age, and the German neology of the pre- 
 sent; and, in its own beautiful language respecting 
 the sun, " is as a bridegroom coming out of his 
 chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a 
 race;'^ and soon it will be true also of this sacred 
 volume: its "going forth is from the end of the 
 heaven, and its circuit unto the ends of it; and there 
 is nothing hid from the heat thereof'^ The futility 
 and madness of opposition to the vital word is now 
 most obvious. The holy oracles, by the inherent 
 energy of eternal truth, have broken away for ever 
 from the angry grasp of an infidel world, and are 
 now destined to "run and have free course, and be 
 glorified," till that splendid consummation when 
 the whole earth shall be full of the knowledge of 
 the Lord! This being the case, the labours of the 
 American Bible Society to supply the nation, and 
 to keep it supplied with the scriptures, will soon 
 exhibit a phenomenon which the world, to any con- 
 siderable extent, has never yet witnessed; namely, 
 the standard of mental and moral character to which 
 the Bible can elevate and conform young men. 
 When it comes into the possession and is perused 
 by the great majority of the youth now urging 
 
ADDRESS. 345 
 
 closely on the steps of tliosc who tread the various 
 walks of mature life, what a clilFerent generation 
 will they be from those that have preceded them ! 
 What a refinement and elevation of the domestic 
 and social affections will they exhibit, when imbued 
 with the spirit of those delicate and exquisitely ten- 
 der home scenes which the Bible presents with so 
 touching a simplicity in its early history of our 
 race! What an estimate will they form of the real 
 dignity of human nature, and of what constitutes 
 the noblest attributes of man, as they contemplate 
 those worthies whom the scriptures present as the 
 true models of the Christian heroic character — 
 worthies who still exist, though parted from earth, 
 and will live on and act a distinguished part in the 
 great drama of intelligent being in a future and end- 
 less economy ! What a surprising effect will be 
 produced on their taste and imagination when the 
 minds of young men are familiar and filled with the 
 splendid imagery of the Bible! From this source 
 even Byron himself, with all his moody skepticism, 
 borrowed a redeeming radiance that shone in strange 
 contrast with the gloomy conceptions of his own 
 mighty but perverted genius. What serenity, what 
 elevation, what expansion of mind, and what thrill- 
 ing emotions of heart will characterize the young 
 man deeply imbued with the conception of those 
 forms of calm, immortal beauty, those scenes of pro- 
 found repose, and those objects of natural and mo- 
 ral sublimity which pervade the poetry of inspira- 
 tion ! Nor can we estimate the effect that may yet be 
 produced on the minds of young men by the contem- 
 plation of those scenes of intense interest and over- 
 
346 ADDRESS. 
 
 matching grandeur which the prophecy of the Bible 
 declares are yet to be enacted in our world. Who 
 may adequately conceive of the rich and glowing 
 adornment of the young mind in every virtue that 
 exalts and gives lasting worth to man, when it has 
 learned to breathe in and appreciate the celestial 
 purity of the doctrines and precepts of God's book? 
 If, by a divine blessing, the labours of this society 
 shall be successful in bringing the majority of young 
 men in our country under these influences of the 
 Bible, how amazing will be the result on the litera- 
 ture, the politics, the social institutions, and the mo- 
 rals of this nation! The heaven-descended dove 
 will then be more prominent than the American 
 eagle; peace and purity, integrity and truth will 
 supersede the strife and crime, the intrigue and 
 falsehood which have stained the recent pages of 
 our history; talent and learning will then bow to 
 the cross, and genius again present its richest gems 
 as an offering to that pure and vital Christianity per- 
 sonated and acted out by the young men of this 
 great and free republic, whilst "the dew of their 
 youth " is still fresh and sparkling upon them. 
 
ADDRESS. 317 
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE A DORCAS SOCIETY OF YOUNG 
 
 PASTORAL CHARGE.' 
 
 The elevated enjoyments of Intellect constitute 
 the most marked difference between man and the 
 inferior tribes of animals. The gratifications of the 
 latter are limited exclusively to the narrow sphere 
 of the senses. The highest order of irrational crea- 
 tures never partake of the pleasures of thought. 
 It is the province and the privilege of man only (in 
 our world,) to break over the enclosures of sense, 
 and away from present objects, and to wander in 
 pleasing memory over the past, or bound onward in 
 imagination and hope, through an indefinite future 
 peopled with forms of ideal beauty and loveliness, 
 that subdue and captivate the heart. God has so 
 constructed the mechanism of the human mind, that 
 its own movements prove a source of happiness. In 
 the very capability and exercise of thinking, the 
 mind is conscious of an enjoyment immeasurably 
 
 * The author prefers the method, here adopted, of publishing the ad- 
 dress with all the marks of famiHarity of style, and of his pastoral relation 
 to the hearers, rather than that of giving it a more abstract and -essay- 
 like form, which might, indeed, add somewhat to its merit, in point of 
 diction, but which would deprive it of that interest, which attaches to an 
 address that bears the evidence of having been aciualhj spoken to real 
 living human beings. 
 
348 ADDRESS. 
 
 superior to that derived* from impressions on the 
 senses, and of a kind that can only belong to an 
 intellectual being. To us, perhaps, the most inte- 
 resting view that can be taken of the human mind, 
 is to contemplate it as an instrument of happiness, 
 A critical analysis of all its powers, susceptibilities, 
 and tendencies, physical and moral, and of the ulte- 
 rior issues to which they were originally designed 
 to lead, will prove that the mind was constructed 
 as an instrument of happiness, just as much as the 
 harp or the organ was made to "discourse sweet 
 music." The adaptations in the one case are as 
 clear and recognizable as in the other. No one can 
 be acquainted with its capacities, and can have no- 
 ticed the boundless resources of thought and emo- 
 tion furnished by the wide universe, without per- 
 ceiving the relation which the mind, as an instru- 
 ment, bears to the highest happiness of man. It is 
 not only the subject of those passive impressions of 
 pleasure, made on it by the beauty and sublimity of 
 nature, in which the hand of God strikes its chords 
 and elicits sweet notes in the soul as the breeze on 
 the ^olian harp, but liseM originates thought, and 
 takes its voluntary excursions through intellectual 
 realms, where it creates the noble scenery it con- 
 templates, and finds bliss in the employment of its 
 own wonderful capacities. It would be trite, in- 
 deed, to remark, that in order to enjoy the mental 
 liappiness for which the Creator destined us, the 
 mind must be cultivated. If the greater part of 
 our intellectual joys be ^lot passive but active — if 
 they depend on the voluntary exercise of our pow- 
 ers, and the direction which we give to our trains 
 
ADDRESS. 349 
 
 of thought, then, obviously, our happiness of this 
 kind is suspended on the care and assiduity with 
 which we cultivate our minds. The mind, though 
 in one aspect an instrument, differs from all others 
 in this, that it has a self-moving power — it tunes 
 itself, and has a voluntary control over its own 
 operations. The bearing then of mental cultivation 
 on our happiness is too obvious to require illustra- 
 tion. The great and characteristic intellectual dif- 
 ference between the lowest classes of society, whose 
 range of thought and of mental enjoyment is but 
 little wider than that of the inferior animals, and 
 the higher and liberally educated is, that the latter 
 can withdraw their attention from the objects of 
 sense, and direct it, at pleasure, to those intellectual 
 combinations which delight the imagination. If, 
 then, mental cultivation have an important bearing 
 on the happiness of mankind generally, it has a 
 special bearing, for reasons hereafter to be given, 
 on the happiness of the gentler sex. Permit me, 
 then, on this occasion, to suggest to you a few 
 thoughts on the influence of intellectual cultivation 
 on female happiness. The phrase, "intellectual 
 cultivation, " is liable to be understood by some in 
 too restricted a sense. I therefore premise that I 
 do not mean by it merely that young ladies shall 
 have gone through the ordinary course of female 
 education. It is possible to master every brancli 
 embraced in the most thorough system of the schools, 
 and yet the power of original and independent think- 
 ing may never have been called into action. Many 
 a youth wlio has no mean oj)inion of his own ge- 
 nius, carries away his parchment testimonials from 
 30 
 
350 ADDRESS. 
 
 the best college or university of tlie land duly signed 
 and sealed, aye, and goes delightfully burdened with 
 academic honours too, who is most profoundly ig- 
 norant of the art of thinking, and an utter stranger 
 to the lofty enjoyment thence resulting. So, many 
 a young lady completes an extensive and accom- 
 plished education without ever having had one dis- 
 tinct original train of thought during the whole 
 course, or ever having learned that she possesses an 
 inherent capability of originating and prosecuting 
 intellectual speculations peculiarly her oivn. This 
 capability is entirely distinct from that almost me- 
 chanical operation of the memory and of the under- 
 standing, which is all that is necessary to acquire 
 what is often termed a good education. It is pos- 
 sible to store the memory with all the facts, and to 
 exercise the understanding so as to comprehend all 
 the principles of the various branches of learning, 
 and yet the power of thinking for one^s se/f never 
 be developed. So it is possible, after an education 
 is said to be " finished," to pursue an extended 
 course of reading, and acquire treasures of valuable 
 information, whilst the capability of originating and 
 prosecuting independent trains of thought lies ut- 
 terly dormant. 
 
 What is meant then by intellectual cultivation, is 
 such a development and discipline of all the men- 
 tal capacities as will enable the mind, apart from all 
 external appliances, to elaborate those forms of 
 thought or combination of ideas which will bear 
 upon them its own image and superscription. This 
 necessarily includes a knowledge of the laws of 
 mind itself. It were preposterous to suppose that 
 
ADDRESS. 351 
 
 any one could use an insti'iiment to advantage while 
 ignorant of its nature. The study of intellectual 
 philosopliy, not as a matter of mere memory, but as 
 a science to be verified by a reference to her own 
 experience, and by a careful analysis of her own 
 mental states, is indispensable to the proper culti- 
 vation of any lady's mind. This is the science 
 which pre-eminently teaches the art of thinking, by 
 ascertaining the faculties of the mind, and point- 
 ing out the laws that produce or control its various 
 phenomena. Proper culture of mind will include 
 also the development and exercise of the power of 
 generalization. By this is meant that power by 
 which the mind passes from the consideration of 
 isolated, particular objects, (which would greatly 
 limit the range of thought and of knowledge,) to the 
 contemplation of vast and extended classes or orders 
 that have some relation of resemblance common to 
 all the individuals of which they are composed. 
 This is the faculty on which all our processes of 
 reasoning depend; and need I say that that does not 
 deserve the name of intellectual cultivation which 
 does not include the capability of extended, close, 
 consecutive reasoning;. In the mental trainins: of 
 ladies, the evolution, discipline, and right direction 
 of the imagination is an object of primary moment. 
 No class suffer so deeply the effects of a lawless or 
 ill-regulated action of this faculty, and no class are 
 susceptible of a purer or more elevated pleasure from 
 its legitimate exercise than ladies. I do not mean 
 by imagination merely the capability of passively 
 enjoying the exquisite productions of genius in the 
 imitative and liberal arts — nor of appreciating only 
 
352 ADDRESS. 
 
 the splendid imagery and magnificent creations of 
 the poet, but of forming for one's self those rare 
 combinations of thought which are to the mind's 
 eye what the evershifting beauties of the kaleido- 
 scope are to the bodily, and which throw their rain- 
 bow colourings on the darkest clouds that the reali- 
 ties of life ever roll over our pathway. In addition 
 to this, proper mental culture includes also a power 
 of contemplating things, not in those common, ob- 
 vious aspects in which they appear to undisciplined 
 minds, but in those more remote, extended, and re- 
 condite relations which classify and connect them 
 with other and distant objects, which are never vi- 
 sible to the vulgar eye. Allied to this, and equally 
 included, is the capability of mind to pursue its own 
 far-reaching speculations; not learned from books, 
 nor aided by conversation, but under the prompt- 
 ings of its native and disciplined energies — a capa- 
 bility of taking its towering flight, and, with tireless 
 and excursive wing, wandering over those distant 
 and pathless regions of thought hitherto unmarked 
 by the foot-prints of any other intellectual adven- 
 turer. 
 
 My fair hearers, by this time, are doubtless dis- 
 couraged by the elevation and perfection of the 
 standard I have now presented. I can only reply, 
 its measure 'inay be attained by the majority of edu- 
 cated females, ?*/*they will only devote as much time 
 to solid intellectual acquisition as they squander use- 
 lessly at their toilet, or worse than uselessly, in fri- 
 volous company, or in the infatuation of novel- 
 reading. The standard needs be no higher, and it 
 ought not to be lower than to demand such a de- 
 
ADDRESS. 353 
 
 velopment, discipline, and control of all the mental 
 faculties as shall enable woman to perform the du- 
 ties and attain the noble destinies of an intellectual, 
 thinking being, created originally in the image of 
 God. That this will contribute to the happiness of 
 either sex is obvious, because, by thus cultivating 
 the mind, we act in accordance with the laws by 
 which God designed it to be governed, and fulfil 
 one of the great purposes of our creation. As has 
 been intimated, the Deity designed to make the ex- 
 ercise of thought itself a source of happiness to the 
 mind. Next to the pure and peaceful joys of piety 
 are the pleasures of a well-trained intellect. They 
 are not only incomparably above those of sense, but 
 are mainly independent of external circumstances. 
 They become so incorporated with, and a part of, 
 the mind itself, as to be unaffected by those per- 
 petual changes that are passing on all inferior ob- 
 jects of enjoyment. What lady would not aspire 
 to have the lot of her inheritance cast in this "hill 
 country '^ of intellectual joy? — this middle region 
 of the atmosphere, far above the mists and murky 
 vapour of mere animal enjoyment, and but a little 
 below thctse bright altitudes of thought and emotion 
 occupied by pure and lofty intelligences! 
 
 It is a grateful task for me to point out to you the 
 influence which intellectual cultivation will exert 
 on your happiness in society. The sweet sympa- 
 thies that bind the heart of man to his fellow man 
 as a social being, and especially those exquisitely 
 tender ties that connect with us the fairer half of 
 creation, furnish a source of enjoyment, by the in- 
 terchange of thought, and the reciprocity of scnti- 
 30* 
 
354 ADDRESS. 
 
 merit and emotion to which they lead, that can only 
 be appreciated by a cultivated mind. Woman was 
 designed to reap the richer portion of this golden 
 harvest of social joys. She was pre-eminently in- 
 tended and fitted to shine in the circle of friendship, 
 where "heart meets heart reciprocally warm," and 
 to partake largely of the "feast of reason and the 
 flow of soul." Some of the happiest hours in the 
 early life of Miss Hannah More were those spent 
 in the social circle with Johnson, Burk, and their 
 literary cotemporaries, who constituted, at the time, 
 the stars of Great Britain. Amidst that galaxy of 
 gifted minds she shone fair as the moon in peerless 
 beauty. 
 
 It was intellectual cultivation alone that rendered 
 her susceptible of the high enjoyment she derived 
 from this source, and which made her at one time 
 the idol of the literary circles of London. It is this 
 alone, my fair hearers, which will enable you to 
 command those elevated and ennobling topics of 
 conversation, and that ready and graceful utterance 
 of your thoughts, that will impart to you a conscious 
 dignit}^ and ease during your social intercourse, and 
 furnish material for delightful reflection afterwards. 
 How grovelling and pitiful is that meagre gratifica- 
 tion which results from the sinaU talk, the gossip, 
 and, too often, the back-biting and slander that cha- 
 racterize the interviews of those deemed ladies! 
 Wherever these prevail, they may be regarded as 
 the infallible indication of a want of mental culture. 
 They are the rags of intellectual poverty, and like 
 the self-righteousness of the sinner, they are (pardon 
 the homely, though inspired saying,) ^'filthy rags." 
 
ADDRESS. 355 
 
 Amidst what is often termed an array of fashion and 
 beauty, the thoughtful mind will find itself absorbed 
 and ahstracted in melancholy reflections, on the loss 
 of social happiness sustained by ladies through the 
 lack of that mental elevation and culture which 
 would enable them to introduce such topics, and in- 
 terchange such thoughts, as would, according to the 
 laws of mind, promote the enjoyment of a rational, 
 thinking creature. It is impossible, our intellectual 
 constitution Yem-Aimngwhat it is, that the ordinary 
 tea-party "chit-chat" of ladies, should minister any 
 solid or lasting pleasure to the immortal mind. No; 
 to realize the purest and highest joys of your social 
 nature, you must possess a degree of intellectual 
 cultivation which will enable you to leave the fri- 
 volous truisms and hackneyed topics of the day, and 
 to select those fresh and original subjects of conver- 
 sation which are the result of your own habits of 
 close and discriminating thought, which constitute 
 the intellectual wealth that you have been toiling 
 for, and have acquired in your hours of retirement 
 and application. It is this which will attract to you 
 the real intelligence of the company, and give you 
 command over the springs of other minds, and a 
 participation in their delight and surprise, that you 
 have so successfully awakened and directed their 
 powers of thought. And while you have thus the 
 conscious pleasure of enriching them, you may also 
 have the additional gratification of finding returned 
 to you with interest, what you have imparted to 
 them, by the new collateral trains of thought which 
 those minds will be enabled to pursue in consequence 
 of the capital which you have furnished them. The 
 
356 ADtJgESS. 
 
 impulsive power thus exerted on others by your 
 conversation, may carry them be3^ond the limits of 
 )'our speculations on a particular subject, and cause 
 them in turn to impart a delightful intellectual sti- 
 mulus to you. But there is another way in which 
 menial culture will greatly contribute to your hap- 
 piness in society, viz.: by the just observations it 
 will enable you to make. The action of a well de- 
 veloped and disciplined mind on the phenomena of 
 social life, cannot fail of being a source of solid en- 
 joyment. But what improvement or pleasure can 
 result from the kind of observations which some la- 
 dies make on society? And what must be the only 
 class of observations that can be made by all ladies 
 who have neglected the faculty of thinking and rea- 
 soning? Why, to notice critically all the dresses of 
 their own sex, and to comment thereon, especially 
 to decry the costume of a rival beauty as not at all 
 pretty nor in good taste, to test the quality of lace, 
 and, if possible, the genuineness of diamond rings 
 and jewelry, to notice the grace with which a gen- 
 tleman enters the room, whether his locks and 
 whiskers are exactly the genteel cut, whether he 
 has a beautiful hand and a small cultivated foot, and 
 whether he has the right inclination of body, the 
 line of grace in the position of the neck and head, 
 when he pays his adoration to the fair ones. Though 
 this may approach to caricature, yet there is too 
 much of truth in it when applied to the observa- 
 tions made on society by some ladies of whom we 
 might expect better things. How- much such ob- 
 servations can enrich, ennoble, and bless an intelli- 
 gent rational nature, I leave my gentle hearers to 
 
ADDRESS. 357 
 
 determine. Besides the charm which it gives to 
 conversation, intellectual cultivation will enable you 
 to enjoy a refined mental pleasure in those silent 
 processes of thought involved in the habits of ob- 
 servation on society to which it will give rise. In 
 those intervals which necessarily occur in conver- 
 sation, a highly cultivated mind will look with the 
 eye of a philosopher on the developments of man's 
 social nature then being made. Such a mind will 
 not regard the phenomena thus exhibited as casual, 
 isolated things, furnishing no materials for profita- 
 ble reflection, and resolvable into no great princi- 
 ples. It will analyze, classify, and refer them to 
 some general laws of our social being. Thus will 
 it enlarge its knowledge of the philosophy of one 
 department of human nature, acquire a more correct 
 estimate of character, strengthen its judgment of 
 men and social affairs, and obtain the materials of 
 subsequent profitable speculation. Such a mind 
 will find no difficulty in estimating the exact worth 
 of a great part of the apparent politeness and profes- 
 sions of friendship common amongst even the better 
 circles. To the untutored, unreflecting individual, 
 there is much in the forms of society adapted to de- 
 ceive, much in the apparent pleasure which some 
 would be thought to take in our company, which is 
 gross hypocrisy. It grieves me to say it, but so 
 common is the weakness and credulity of ladies in 
 this respect, that it tempts the unprincipled of the 
 other sex to play upon them by flattering attentions, 
 for no other purpose than simply to ascertain how 
 credulous and confiding woman is! 
 
 In society, a cultivated and reflective mind \v\\\ 
 
358 ADDRESS. 
 
 also learn some of its most impressive lessons of the 
 vanity of life. Amidst the gayest scene of fashion, 
 youth, and beauty, such a mind will scarcely fail to 
 glance forward and anticipate the sad changes which 
 the lapse of years and larger experience of human 
 ills bring upon that now buoyant and joyous com- 
 pany. One of the most mournfully pleasing and 
 profitable trains of thought on the short-lived joys 
 and transitory existence of man, might have been 
 had some twenty years ago, while promenading in 
 Castle Garden, New York, as it then was, with a 
 friend by your side, and surrounded by three or 
 four thousand of the young, the gay, pleasure-loving 
 inhabitants of that great metropolis. And when en- 
 joying the sweets of social intercourse, while these 
 thoughts of the fleeting nature of all earthly joys 
 are present, how natural for the cultivated mind to 
 indulge lofty aspirations after that immortal scene 
 of intimate fellowship, where the social principle 
 will have an unlimited and enduring sway, and 
 where congenial spirits, bound by ties that can never 
 be sundered, shall interchange thought, sentiment, 
 and affection through an endless duration. 
 
 As a defence against ennui when alone, not less 
 than a source of happiness in society, woman de- 
 mands a high degree of mental culture. It is this 
 pre-eminently, that will minister to your enjoyment 
 in those hours of retirement which your sphere and 
 station in life necessarily involve. The delicacy of 
 your sex, and the customs of societ}^ alike forbid 
 you to mingle in many of those busy and bustling 
 scenes which furnish excitement and pleasure to the 
 rougher and sterner half of our race. Domestic re- 
 
ADDRESS. 359 
 
 tirement and the noiseless duties of home, are in- 
 separable from your condition, and fill up the greater 
 portion of your terrestrial existence. True, the 
 mere butterflies of your sex so manage to be mostly 
 on the wing, fluttering from flower to flower during 
 the short and summer months of yo ith. But even 
 they cannot escape their hours of retirement. No 
 ingenuity can avoid certain languid intervals, and 
 unwelcome pauses in the giddy round of their exis- 
 tence, when they sit with folded wings, "zV/a^ ease.^^ 
 All of you, however, who design to confine your- 
 selves within the appropriate sphere of woman, and 
 who intend, in compliance with the apostolical in- 
 junction, to " be keepers at home^^ will find that 
 the greater part of your lives must be spent in com- 
 parative retirement. Now, how intolerable must 
 such retirement be to a vacant and unreflective 
 mind? — to a mind whose only materials of thought 
 consist in those external objects that must be present 
 to the senses — a mind whose only aliment is the un- 
 healthy, intoxicating stimulus ministered by the 
 theatre, balls, parties, promenades, or the spiced and 
 sweetened nonsense that marks the conversation of 
 smaller circles of fashion. In retirement, such a 
 mind, by a law of the mental economy, must feel 
 miserable — not much less miserable than the 
 wretched sot himself, when bereft of his cups. 
 Hence, there are minds which, the moment that 
 they are divorced from external excitements and 
 obliged to be alone, feel as though they were sus- 
 pended mid-air, in boundless vacancy. The only 
 intellectual movement that they can make to avoid 
 an uneasy and absolute fixation, is to get their feet 
 
360 ADDRESS. 
 
 on the tall stilts which novel-reading furnishes, and 
 make their hobbling strides through fairy regions, 
 neither treading exactly earth or skies. But a mind 
 properly trained, and richly stored with the ele- 
 ments of thought, will experience none of this 
 wretchedness, and be under no necessity of betaking 
 itself to such resorts in its seasons of retirement. To 
 such a mind, occasional solitude is congenial, and is 
 invested with a mysterious charm. It covets re- 
 tirement, and loves at times to isolate itself from all 
 external excitements, by voluntarily throwing itself 
 out of, and beyond the hum and whirl of society. 
 In a higher sense than that of the noble bard, it can 
 emphatically exclaim — 
 
 " There is a pleasure in the pathless woods — 
 There is a rapture on the lonely shore — 
 There is society where none intrudes, 
 By the deep sea, and music in its roar. 
 I love not man the less, but nature more, 
 From these our interviews, in which I steal 
 From all I may be, or have been before; 
 To mingle with the universe, and feel 
 What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal." 
 
 Retirement often furnishes the well disciplined 
 mind its most delightful hours both of thought and 
 of emotion. The very consciousness of possessing 
 the power to carry on extended trains of solitary 
 thinking, is, of itself, a source of pleasure. The ex- 
 ercise of that power, in the quiet speculations and 
 communings of the soul separated from all internal 
 impulses, supplies an elevated enjoyment unknown 
 to the crowds of the sensual and unthinking. And 
 even with less of mental capacity than this supposes, 
 how delightful might the retirement of ladies be- 
 
ADDRESS. 361 
 
 come, were they early to cultivate a taste for the 
 highest and best class of authors, and to hold inti- 
 mate fellowship, by perusing; their works, with such 
 minds as those of Bacon, Newton, Locke, Butler, 
 Howe, Hall, M'Intosh, Dugald Stewart, and Dr-. 
 Brown, or to range with keen relish through that 
 universe of beauty and sublimity, created by the 
 great master poets of all past ages. A discipline like 
 this would soon enable them, on closing the volume 
 of their favourite author, to take an untrammelled 
 excursion by themselves, in those far off regions of 
 original, independent thought, where the face of 
 things has never had a feature imprinted on it by 
 any previous visit of mind. To those capable of 
 such intellectual employment, time would never 
 seem to fly with drooping, tardy wing. The hours 
 of retirement to which their station confines them, 
 would then be hailed by ladies, as occasions of im- 
 provement and augmented mental happiness. So 
 far from disrelishing their homes, and craving the 
 morbid excitement of a crowd, or the change and 
 novelty of ''' Tnorning calls,'^ they could then at- 
 test, in their own joyous experience, the truth and 
 justness of Cowper's sentiment, — 
 
 " 'Tis pleasant through the loop-holes of retreat, 
 To peep at such a world, to see the stir — 
 Of the great Babel, and not feel the crowd; 
 To hear the roar she sends through all her gates 
 At a safe distance, where the dying sound, 
 Falls in soft mumiur on the uninjured ear. — 
 Thus sitting, and surveyuig, tlius at ease, 
 The globe and its concerns, I seem advanced 
 To some secure and more than mortal height, 
 That liberates and exempts me from them all." 
 
 To the minds of ladies thus employed, there is a 
 31 
 
362 ADDKESS, 
 
 sense of noble elevation which gives a dignity and 
 charm to their seasons of retirement. Such minds 
 can never know those intervals of languor and rest- 
 less vacancy, — that ennui and nervous depression 
 which characterize the solitary hours of too many 
 of our fashionable ladies. And this may justify me 
 in a digressive and passing remark, on the influence 
 of intellectual culture on female health and temper. 
 So mysterious is the union between mind and body, 
 and so intimate their sympathy and reciprocal 
 action on each other, that the state of the intellect 
 often affects, directly, the bodily health and animal 
 spirits. When the mind is pleasantly and profitably 
 occupied, the corporeal functions seem to derive, 
 from this very circumstance, a grateful stimulus. 
 Digestion is more perfect, and sleep more sound and 
 refreshing. The nervous system is pervaded with a 
 tone and vigour that are the direct results of mental 
 employment and pleasure. This truth is practically 
 recognised in the treatment of the hypochondriac and 
 the nervous invalid. The great object of an intel- 
 ligent physician in such cases, is to combine plea- 
 sant mental excitement with physical remedies. 
 Hence, the effort to break up the melancholy mo- 
 notony of the patient, by sending him or her on 
 jaunts of pleasure, and to public places of cheerful 
 resort. 1 doubt not, my fair hearers, that one great 
 cause of the feeble health of many of your sex, is 
 legitimately attributable to the want of intellectual 
 excitement and activity in their hours of retirement 
 and leisure. To them, the chariot of time "drives 
 heavily," and its " wheels,^' like those of the one 
 in which Pharaoh pursued Israel, " come off in the 
 
ADDRESS. 303 
 
 sand." External excitement being removed, llic 
 mind pines in its own emptiness. The brain, as the 
 ori;an or instrument of tlie mind, is thus left to in- 
 tervals of inactivity, which have the same debili- 
 tating effect on it, that results to the corporeal pow- 
 ers or muscular system generall}^ by too long sleep. 
 Depression of spirits is the necessary consequence 
 concatenated, also, with lengthened links of nervous 
 horrors, loss of appetite, dyspepsia, unquiet sleep, 
 irresolution, fickleness, tormenting whims and con- 
 ceits, and ultimately — unless the mind can be 
 aroused to salutary activity — confirmed habits of ill 
 health. The transition now to irritability of temper^ 
 is easy, and almost inevitable. A mind thus dis- 
 satisfied with itself, preying upon the unfortunate 
 body with which it is united, and in turn, preyed 
 upon by the irritated and abused body — such a mind 
 is in great danger of welcoming even a fit of anger, 
 if it only promises to rouse it from its lethargy, and 
 to rescue it from the vague wretchedness of its own 
 inactivity. The petulance of single ladies who have 
 out-lived the external excitement of youthful society, 
 and been consigned to the permanent retirement of 
 a certain indefinite age, is almost wholly attributable 
 to the want of that intellectual cultivation, which 
 furnishes the mind in solitude with ample sources 
 of interesting and felicitous thought. Maiden 
 ladies are not bound by fate or physical necessity, 
 to be notoriously irritable in their temper. One of 
 the most buoyant, cheerful, humorous, happy, good- 
 natured individuals with whoin 1 have ever been 
 acquainted, is a lady who has literally lived in single 
 blessednesSy till she is now quite beyond that age 
 
364 ADDRESS. 
 
 which legally exempts gentlemen from military 
 duty. But in youth, she disciplined her mind to 
 live on its own resources. She early learned the 
 art of thinking, and acquired a keen relish for those 
 intellectual joys that fade not with the hues of the 
 cheek, and that wither not with the wasted form 
 and altered gait of age.* But while this proves 
 satisfactorily, the power of intellectual cultivation 
 on the happiness of single ladies, and how far it 
 succeeds in compensating for the deprivation of all 
 those enjoyments resulting from wedded life, and 
 domestic relations and endearments, — yet " it is not 
 good" that woman, any more than "man, should 
 be alone;" nor is it the general law of the divine 
 economy that she should be. I therefore remark, 
 that mental culture will tell directly and powerfully 
 on your happiness, hy the disposition ivhich it will 
 lead you to make of your affections, or, in other 
 words, by the influence it will have on your 
 choice of a partner for life. My fair hearers, 
 spare your smile at the introduction of this topic. 
 It is a subject involving the totality of your domes- 
 tic happiness. God designed that one principal 
 source of your earthly enjoyment, should consist in 
 the exercise of those delicate and deep affections 
 
 * Since this lecture was delivered, the author has had the pleasure of 
 becoming acquainted with a single lady, quite advanced in years, who 
 has more than the mental activity, and all the sunny cheerfulness of 
 eighteen, and who, in her susceptibility of warm and noble friendship 
 — in the fresh and vigorous play of the benevolent affections — in her 
 mental discipline, and intellectual treasures, and in the charm of her con- 
 versation, and her power of entertaining agreeably an educated guest, is 
 one of the most interesting individuals, male or female, with whom he 
 has ever met in the course of his life. 
 
ADDRESS. 365 
 
 with which he has so si2;nally endowed your sex. 
 Truth, as well as poetry, dictated the declaration, 
 that " W0771O71 was made to love.^^ If her affeclions 
 be misplaced or blighted, by the very constitution 
 of her nature the world becomes a blank to her, 
 and in vain offers her its richest treasures as a com- 
 pensation for her loss. Man, when disappointed, 
 can betake himself to the pursuit of military glory, 
 political distinction, literary fame, or even the mad 
 enterprises of avarice and ambition, and in the din 
 of his tumultuous career can drown the mournful 
 voice that speaks of his blighted heart, and echoes 
 from its desolation. But ivornan^s affections, are 
 her earthly all. Ruin in these, is to her an irrepa- 
 rable ruin. Under unrequited love, the following 
 exquisitely tender and touching lines of the poet, 
 constitute a literal and faithful description of her 
 emotions: — 
 
 " I seem alone, mid universal death, 
 Lone as a single sail upon the sea, — 
 Lone as a wounded swan, that leaves the flock, 
 To heal in secret, or to bleed and die." 
 
 But has woman, by a strange fatality, no protection, 
 no defence against these unfortunate entanglements 
 of feeling, and those permanently misplaced affec- 
 tions which imbitter life, and consign so many of 
 the sex to a premature grave? Who will venture 
 to assert, that a righteous Providence abandons the 
 most helpless of His offspring to a destiny like this ? 
 No, a benevolent God has placed within the reach 
 of woman the invaluable safeguard of a well trained 
 intellect. Proper mental culture will not only 
 strengthen her judgment and powers of discrimina- 
 31* 
 
366 ADDRESS, 
 
 tion, and give them their appropriate place and 
 weight, but will also teach her to discard and 
 despise, as equally absurd and mischievous, all those 
 theories of love found in novels and works of ro- 
 mance, which represent us, as wholly involuntary 
 in the exercise of the affections— which represent 
 the mind or heart, as a perfectly passive subject, of 
 sudden and random impulses, in a case involving 
 our dearest earthly joys — theories which support 
 the dangerous doctrine of a magical and irresistible 
 stroke, smiting through the very heart at the first 
 sight of a person, before a solitary mental or moral 
 quality of the individual is known to us ! Now a 
 lady who has cultivated any acquaintance with in- 
 tellectual philosophy, must know that rational and 
 virtuous love in such a case, is a physical impossi- 
 bility. Our affections are governed by fixed and de- 
 finite laws, one of which is, that the discovery of real 
 or supposed excellence in an individual is absolutely 
 necessary to elicit our love for him. It is admitted, 
 that we may be struck with the personal beauty of 
 one, and have an emotion of taste, just like that ex- 
 perienced when beholding a finished and elegant 
 statue, or an exquisitely fine production of the 
 pencil. But this has no necessary connexion with 
 the exercise of our permanent and engrossing afiec- 
 tions. And yet, how many yield themselves up to 
 this doctrine of downright fatalism in love. I 
 knew a somewhat romantic young gentleman, who 
 was exceedingly struck at first sight, with the tran- 
 scendent beauty of features and of form, in a young 
 lady, and began to feel, and say to himself, " This, 
 perhaps, is the destined one, — the circumstances 
 
ADDRESS. 3G7 
 
 that have thrown us together, are certainly peculiar 
 — this is to be the mysterious, magic moment that 
 is to give complexion to all my remaining days.'' 
 But after having conversed with her awhile on the 
 subject of the weather, the character of the roads, 
 (there were no railroads then,) and kindred topics, 
 one of those awkward pauses ensued, which, as she 
 was entertaining the gentleman in her own house, it 
 became desirable should be speedily broken up. Ac- 
 cordingly, drawing her ruby lips in the curves of a 
 smile that would have graced the face of a goddess, 
 and displaying a set of teeth that would compete 
 with those which Solomon describes of his spouse, 
 and throwing lines of witchery round her eyes that 
 might have enchanted the veriest stoic, she gave 
 the note of preparation for utterance, and with an 
 ineffably silly intonation of voice, asked the ques- 
 tion — " Maryland is a right pretty little place, 
 is it not?'^ The young gentleman, though of a 
 highly romantic and poetic temperament, did not 
 feel that he was bound by an irresistible fate to 
 yield to his first impression, and fall hopelessly in 
 love with this splendid specimen of beautiful ina- 
 nity! Intellectual cultivation will free you, ladies, 
 from the absurd doctrine, that you must be the un- 
 resisting victim of this mysterious smiting, at first 
 sight. Besides, it will form your taste for the so- 
 ciety of that class of gentlemen, who are not only 
 capable of being your companions, but of stimulating 
 you, and directing your efforts in making still larger 
 mental acquisitions. Suitable discipline of mind 
 will free you from the danger and the folly of fall- 
 ing in love with a handsome face, a graceful person. 
 
368 ADDRESS. 
 
 polished manners, and stereotyped flattery in the 
 ahsence of all the higher and nobler qualities of 
 mind and heart, that form the only true basis of a 
 rational and lasting attachment. It will teach you 
 also, before it is too late, the fatal mistake of per- 
 mitting ivealth to have a preponderating influence 
 in the selection of a partner. Many a warm, 
 generous, youthful heart, has been bound to the 
 frigid dulness and stupidity of age, literally, b}^ a 
 golden link. This has always seemed to me, the 
 most revolting spectacle in the social condition of 
 human nature. To talk of happiness, in such a case, 
 is mockery and madness, — 
 
 " 'Tis beauty lingering round decay, — 
 The farewell beam of feeling past away," 
 
 as far as the lady is concerned. And it is doubt- 
 ful, whether such a union can add to the domestic 
 comforts of the unfortunate old husband himself. 
 His efforts to appear young, and his awkward at- 
 tempts to adapt his manners, and adjust his spirits 
 to those of his wife — his uneasy conviction of her 
 restlessness at being shut up to his society alone — 
 his endeavours to sober down her troublesome and 
 untameable buoyancy, to the point beyond which 
 he can no longer raise his own, and the insuffer- 
 able corrosions of jealousy which he experiences, 
 when she is thrown into the society of gentlemen 
 of her own age, often cause him to curse bit- 
 terly the gilded bait by which he caught this 
 wayward, sportive water nymph, who is now con- 
 stantly swimming, diving, and dashing away from 
 his tremulous grasp, in the full and rapid current of 
 youth. Intellectual cultivation only, can furnish 
 
ADDRESS. 369 
 
 ladies the data by which to form a just and enlight- 
 ened estimate of what constitutes the great and per- 
 manent element of happiness in the endeared rela- 
 tions of wedded life. It would bring them under a 
 settled and practical conviction, that it is mind 
 only that can make mind happy. It is man's 
 knowledge of the laws and agencies of matter that 
 enables him to conform to those laws, and employ 
 those agencies as the means of his physical enjoy- 
 ment. So it is his acquaintance with the laws and 
 agencies of mind — with the true philosophy of the 
 heart in all its social phenomena, which enables him 
 to conform to these laws, and adapt himself to this 
 philosophy, and to control these phenomena, so as 
 to promote and secure mutual domestic happiness. 
 I do not affirm, that an intelligent man may not 
 render a wife unhappy — because there is such a 
 thing as perverted intelligence — but I do fearlessly 
 aver, that a brainless beauty, as rich as Croesus, as 
 perfect in form as Apollo, as polished and genteel 
 in his manners as a Chesterfield, who^ can dance, 
 and bow, and ogle, and court with infinite tact, and 
 up to the very beau ideal of those ladies themselves 
 who live upon show, can never confer true and last- 
 ing happiness on a wife, unless she be as brainless 
 as himself. And why intelligent ladies will some- 
 times wed those meagre specimens of male humanity, 
 who have just "enough of soul to save the expense 
 of salt" in their physical preservation, — just enough 
 of mind super-added to their animal mechanism, to 
 enable them to perform a parrot-like imitation of 
 men, — is one of the most profound mysteries in the 
 natural history of women. Such ladies can never 
 
370 ADDRESS. 
 
 experience the higher and nobler joys of married 
 life. It is mind only, that can confer these; — mind, 
 whose fruitful powers of invention and felicitous 
 combinations of thought, are ever breaking in upon 
 the monotonous realities of existence, and displacing 
 them for a season by those magic creations of its 
 own, in which imagination wanders with a reno- 
 vated surprise and deli^^ht at each successive step. 
 It is mind alone, that can know and control those 
 great and permanent causes which operate to pro- 
 mote and secure the wedded bliss of rational think- 
 ing creatures. And, if there be any case in which 
 a disparity in age does not impair domestic happi- 
 ness, it is where the husband, despite the lapse of 
 years, still retains the fresh green of youth in mind, 
 and has managed to prolong the pleasures of taste 
 and imagination beyond the bright and palmy days 
 of academic scenes and the period of early life. In 
 this case, the eye of youthful affection may be blind 
 to the wrinkles which time has written on her hus- 
 band's brow, and to the silver threads it has woven 
 in his once raven locks; because, like the parent 
 eagle, he is still able to take her on the wings of his 
 lofty and yet vigorous intellect, and soar away to- 
 wards the sun — because her heart, in its noblest 
 youthful sensibilities, is charmed and delighted with 
 the productions of his genius, fresh as they were in 
 early days, and richer than then, in the results of a 
 riper experience, and more enlarged observation. 
 While all the intellectual qualities that command 
 esteem and admiration remain undecayed, the 
 warmth of the heart and its susceptibility of ardent 
 and enthusiastic attachment, will not be impaired by 
 
ADDRESS. 371 
 
 the wear of time on '* tlie outer man." Nay, minds 
 that are prone to philosophic melancholy, and that 
 have formed habits of profound and mournful 
 speculation on the mysteries and paradoxes of our 
 present being, enjoy with great zest, the love be- 
 stowed on them, as years pass away, and test the 
 permanency of all terrestrial attachments. When 
 you wed then, young ladies, he sure that your 
 partner possess imperishable qualities of mind, 
 adapted to enlist and retain your affections. It is 
 in these alone, that the permanent source of domes- 
 tic happiness is to be found. The aflections which 
 rest on personal beauty and accomplishments, or on 
 a kind of physical politeness and amiability, in 
 which certain animals can vie with modern beaux, 
 must, by the lapse of time, and the cross incidents 
 of life, be robbed of their object, and left to wither 
 at the very period when their growth and vigour 
 are most important to female happiness. The pre- 
 sent is, at best, a troubled existence. And if to 
 woman, who has shared most largely in the tem- 
 poral consequences of the apostacy, there be any 
 compensation for its numerous social ills, it is in 
 those refined, exalted, and ennobling intellectual 
 joys, which the talents of an intelligent husband 
 can create, and diffuse, repeat, and perpetuate in the 
 domestic circle till the latest period of life. Genius 
 can shed its own light on the deepest darkness of its 
 earthly home, and its beams refracted by the very 
 tear-drops of domestic sorrow, form a bow on the 
 evening cloud of to-day, promising brighter hours 
 to-morrow. 
 
 But, married or single, should your lives be 
 
372 ADDRESS. 
 
 spared, you will arrive at a period when the frivo- 
 lous enjoyments of youth can no longer please. 
 Who may compute the influence of intellectual cul- 
 ture and acquisition on your happiness, in this sober, 
 not to say sombre, season which inevitably awaits 
 you? Could you check the wheels of time, and 
 prolong at will the gladsome and sunny days of 
 youth, this might present some semblance of apolo- 
 gy for neglecting the cultivation of your minds. 
 But protracted and full of promise as the season of 
 youth may seem to be, yet those of us who have 
 outlived its enchanted hours, know that when past, 
 they appear as the bright incidents of a pleasant 
 dream, and leave us to spend a long and wakeful 
 period, which, if we are to be happy, other employ- 
 ments and other joys must fill. The vivid and 
 pleasing impressions which external objects make 
 on the youthful senses, must ultimately lose the 
 charm of their novelty by mere repetition. The 
 air-built castles of the young imagination must be 
 shaken and overthrown in ruins, by the inevitable 
 occurrences of real and maturer life. Many of the 
 heart's wild and capricious attachments will be 
 blasted by betrayal, or by cold neglect. The light, 
 unanxious spirit of youth cannot always last. Its 
 buoyancy, though now irrepressible, cannot perma- 
 nently sustain itself at the same pitch of elevation, 
 for on it, sooner or later, must press the weight of 
 unavoidable cares. The taste for the gay and giddy 
 pleasures of youth must become cloyed, satiated, 
 and eventually worn out. Your personal charms, 
 that now make you the admiration and the idols of 
 the other sex, and procure for you innumerable flat- 
 
ADDRESS. 373 
 
 tering attentions, must fade. The rose will wither 
 on 3^our checks, for its allotted period of bloom is 
 only during the brief spring of youth. Time, that 
 remorseless, unscrupulous thief, will steal away 
 from you one by one your every beauty of face and 
 of form, and leave instead his own unsightly foot- 
 prints on your features, and his frosts on your heads. 
 Borne along on a returnless current, you will, be- 
 fore you are aware, find yourselves quite beyond 
 the sphere of youth's attractions, and far removed 
 from all its peculiar pleasures. To me no spectacle 
 is more melancholy than that of a lady who has 
 sung, with too much truth, "77/ he a butterfly ^^^ 
 who has depended mainly on the charms of her per- 
 son for the interest she has created, and the return 
 of pleasure she has received in society, who has re- 
 velled on the spontaneous and fortuitous sweets of 
 youth, with a recklessness and prodigality that never 
 looked beyond the present hour, who has neither 
 the taste nor the capability of deriving aliment from 
 any thing but the ambrosia which filled the spark- 
 ling cup of youth, what spectacle under the vast ex- 
 panse of heaven more mournful than such a lady, 
 advanced to that period when time has taken away 
 these her gods in which she trusted, and she de- 
 spairingly exclaims, " What have 1 nioreP^ I^r 
 resort to rouge and cosmetics, and all the various 
 appliances necessary to make her appear young 
 again, her forced and ill-befitting levity, her fruit- 
 less efforts still to attract admiration, her aping the 
 easy volatility of a miss in her teens, and her awk- 
 ward, laborious, and unsuccessful endeavours to keep 
 herself still revolving in the orbit of youtliful plea- 
 32 
 
374 ADDRESS. 
 
 sures, from which the centrilligal force of age is 
 constantly forcing her out, is a sufficiently sorrow- 
 ful view of the doings of an immortal mind to ren- 
 der itself happy in the decline of life! 
 
 For such a lady, married or single, no source of 
 rational or solid enjoyment remains, when once 
 brought, as she will be, by the auve and steady 
 lapse of time, into the circumstances to which I 
 have just alluded. Hannah More, with the pene- 
 tration of a profound philosopher, has intimated 
 that " how to grow old gracefully '^ is one of the 
 difficult problems for woman practically to solve. 
 1 may add, too, that this distinguished lady herself, 
 in the closing years of her long life, gave a most 
 satisfactory and sublime solution of this problem. 
 Aside from the joys of religion, females have no 
 elements of happiness in the later periods of their 
 lives, except those which intellectual cultivation 
 supplies. With well-trained, well-disciplined minds, 
 though living in the single state, they need not and 
 will not be unhappy towards the close of their mor- 
 tal career. They will have been taught in time that 
 " the chief end of woman " is not to study and prac- 
 tise the frivolous arts of winning the temporary ad- 
 miration of gay and thoughtless gentlemen, nor to 
 depend on the excitements of youthful society for 
 the solid and rational enjoyment after which an in- 
 telligent nature cannot but aspire. 
 
 They will have learned, also, to estimate aright 
 their own powers and capacities of happiness, and 
 to regard the mere pleasures of sense as essentially 
 deficient in the qualities which would fit them to 
 meet and satisfy those powers and capacities; and, 
 
ADDRESS. 375 
 
 by consequence, will prize intellectual joys accord- 
 ing to their own intrinsic and enduring value. 
 Hence they will aim to discipline all their mental 
 faculties, and to add to their treasures of mind, 
 through their whole lives. This will free them 
 from that morbid and unsatisfied desire after the 
 transitory enjoyments of youth, which imbitters 
 the later years of an unfurnished and undisciplined 
 female mind. They will have formed habits of in- 
 tellectual activity which declining bodily vigour 
 cannot impair. They will have cultivated and con- 
 firmed a taste for a class of joys over which time 
 can bring no blight, and outward change no destruc- 
 tion. In the summer and hey-day of life they will 
 have laid up ample stores of enjoyment for its win- 
 ter evening. 
 
 Contemplate for a moment a lady who has made 
 the cultivation of her mind (as it ought to be) the 
 main object of her life. She is familiar with, and 
 capable of relishing, the classic beauties of all the 
 best authors. She has treasured in her memory all 
 those prominent facts of history which illustrate 
 great principles, and give a clue to the philosophy 
 of society in its march of civilization and political 
 improvement. She has had, as a subject of study 
 and reflection, the predominating traits in the (Jia- 
 racter of all the distinguished actors in the length- 
 ened drama of time. She is familiar with the no- 
 blest examples and models of excellence in her own 
 sex that the annals of the world present. With the 
 practised eye of a philosopher she looks on national 
 character, and on the social and political dcvclop- 
 mnnts nnd proirrrss of ihe race. Slio hns a ojenoral 
 
376 ADDRESS. 
 
 knowledge of the whole circle of the sciences. She 
 has followed the geologist in his examination of the 
 structure of the earth — the physiologist, in scruti- 
 nizing the mysterious functions of animal and vege- 
 table life — the chemist, in his beautiful analysis of 
 the substances of nature — the natural philosopher, 
 in his investigations of the powers of matter, and 
 his classification of its diversified and sublime phe- 
 nomena under general and fixed laws — and as, 
 though aided by Elijah's car, she has mounted from 
 earth to heaven with the astronomer, and gone from 
 world to world on burning wheels, till she has com- 
 pleted the circuit of the universe ! And, superadded 
 to all this, she possesses the power of original, inde- 
 pendent thinking, which enables her to avail herself 
 of these exhaustless stores, to prosecute speculations 
 of her own, and give a play to her intellectual acti- 
 vity unlimited as universal nature, and enduring as 
 the existence of mind itself. 
 
 Now, is not the happiness of such a lady, in a 
 great measure, independent of any periods of time 
 or any combination of external circumstances ? 
 What though youthful days with truant speed have 
 fled, and are irrevocably gone? What though her 
 spirit has awoke from the dreams of youthful plea- 
 sure ? What though the young heart's fondest hopes 
 have proved delusive? What though the flush of 
 beauty has faded from her cheek, and the crowd of 
 admirers which it once attracted have forsaken her? 
 What though time has insensibly transferred her to 
 that advanced point on the pathway of life where 
 she travels comparatively alone — where the distance 
 causes the din of youthful mirth and pleasure to die 
 
ADDRESS. 377 
 
 away upon her ear, and instead of the gorgeous hues 
 of youth's horizon, the lengthening shadows of a 
 settino; sun stretch out before lier? Still that inlel- 
 lectual world in which she has learned chiefly to 
 live is fresh, and bright, and calm, and beautiful 
 as in other and earlier years. Its objects are not 
 dimmed by time nor defaced by decay. No ne- 
 glect can imbitter to her this source of pure and 
 satisfactory enjoyment; no disaster nor depression 
 of fortune can rob her of these hidden treasures of 
 the soul. The joys of the cultivated mind seem to 
 be excepted from that great law of mutation and 
 decay so signally impressed on all things else in 
 this terrestrial economy. Mental culture, then, will 
 render you happy in that period of life when the 
 airy pleasures of youth have wholly lost their power 
 to please. 
 
 Can you desire a more convincing and practical 
 confirmation of this truth than that furnished by the 
 last years of that intellectual princess whose name 
 has already been more than once introduced into 
 this lecture? A more sublime spectacle of the power 
 of mental culture to bless the closing period of wo- 
 man's life the world has seldom witnessed than in 
 the case of Hannah More. We contemplate with 
 a profound reverence this magnificent specimen of 
 cultivated female intellect which, as it approached 
 the terminus of its earthly course, like the sun near 
 his setting, gave us a deeper impression of its vast 
 dimensions, and of the richness and endless variety 
 of its own resources of felicitous light and colour- 
 ing! She had been early disappointed in the pure 
 maiden love of her heart — the deepest and most 
 
37S ADDRESS. 
 
 hallowed affection of which woman is capable. She 
 had once been the admiration of the first minds in 
 the metropolis of Great Britain. Her society had 
 been courted, and she had been flattered by the no- 
 bility of the nation. In her youth she had partaken 
 largely of the richest and most sparkling joys that 
 the very best circles of English society could afford. 
 And yet, after having outlived the period when 
 these things could any longer please, being desti- 
 tute of those objects of the domestic affections which 
 interest woman till the last, and being consigned to 
 the retirement of rural life, she still found in her 
 own intellectual resources the means of a peaceful 
 and happy old age. At three-score and ten she sus- 
 tained herself on a mental elevation that would have 
 made many a young head dizzy, and looked, with 
 the mind's eye undimmed by years, over the same 
 pleasant landscape where she had often wandered 
 delighted in earlier da5"s. Her intellectual pleasures 
 seemed to derive nourishment and to flourish from 
 the very decay that time brought on all the ordi- 
 nary and short-lived joys of a coarser kind. Her 
 mind, "like frankincense," gave out its sweetness 
 the more freely as the process of consuming the 
 corporeal part with which it was united went on to- 
 wards completion. To see a female mind that has 
 buffeted alone all the storms of a long and eventful 
 life — that has risen above its accumulated clouds, 
 and trampled their darkness beneath its feet, thus 
 sustaining itself till the last upon its own resources, 
 bright, buoyant, and happy at the closing hour, 
 teaches us not only to prize mental culture and to 
 reverence looinan^s intellectual nature, but points 
 
ADDRESS. 379 
 
 to that august immortality which God has provided 
 for the redeemed mind, where its range of action 
 and enjoyment shall be co-extensive with the uni- 
 verse and commensurate with eternity! 
 
 Indulge me, ladies, with a desultory remark or 
 two in conclusion. The interest which I feel in 
 you as the young people of my pastoral charge, and 
 the affection which I cherish towards you all, have 
 led me to devote an hour one evening each week 
 during the past six months for your intellectual 
 gratification and improvement. The pleasure which 
 these exercises have afforded me has been greatly 
 enhanced by the hope that I may thus succeed in 
 forming in you a taste and awakening a desire for 
 intellectual pursuits. As I sincerely wish your hap- 
 piness, I cannot but feel a deep solicitude that you 
 should early learn to prize mental cultivation, and 
 to identify it with the most pure and solid enjoy- 
 ment of which your nature at present is susceptible. 
 Most of you are in the morning of life. The dew 
 of your youth is not yet exhaled by " the heat," nor 
 your buoyancy crushed by "the burden of the day." 
 You possess innumerable facilities for intellectual 
 acquirements, denied to your sex in a former age. 
 In proportion as the benefits of education become 
 general amongst the other sex, you will be laid 
 under the necessity of a corresponding mental ad- 
 vancement, to retain your position in society, and 
 to command that respect which intelligent gentle- 
 men can only accord to intelligent ladies. The 
 world expects more from you than it did or does 
 now from your mothers, and you ought to gird 
 yourselves to the work of meeting its reasonable, 
 
380 ADDRESS. 
 
 though enlarged demands. The social sphere which 
 God has assigned to you an angel could not fill; and 
 to your keeping, more than to angels, he has com- 
 mitted some of the earliest and the dearest interests 
 of human nature. Intelligence is indispensable to 
 the fulfilment of the high duties of this sphere, and 
 to the securing the sacred interests which it in- 
 volves. Let your aim be high, then; " mount as on 
 wings of eagles, run and not be weary, walk and not 
 faint" in the career of knowledge and improvement. 
 If I have contributed aught to your happiness, or 
 inspired you with even a moderate emulation for 
 intellectual attainments during the past season, I 
 shall consider myself as amply repaid for my la- 
 bours. That our connexion in these exercises has 
 strengthened the bonds of esteem and affection be- 
 tween us I do not doubt. In the close of your 
 meetings for the season, and in taking my leave of 
 you for the present, I feel the commingling of ten- 
 der recollections and pleasing anticipations. I see 
 among you those who, during the past season, have 
 indulged the precious hope of the Christian, conse- 
 crated yourselves to God, become the lambs of my 
 flock and the prospective jewels of my crown of re- 
 joicing in the day of the Lord Jesus. To me this 
 forms the most hallowed recollection of our associ- 
 ated existence. However I might rejoice in your 
 intellectual improvement, I must rejoice more in 
 your early piety. " Rich are the tints of that beaut}^ 
 and fragrant those flowers on which, in the morning 
 of life, the Lord our God sheds down the dews of 
 his blessing." 
 
 May He keep you, and all the members of this 
 
ADDRESS. 3S1 
 
 society, during the interval that is to elapse before 
 we meet again, under the shadow of His own al- 
 mighty wings. And when the meetings and part- 
 ings of earth are over, may we be reunited in that 
 brighter world where the intellect, unclogged by 
 sense and unclouded by sin, shall know even as it is 
 known, and tbe heart, freed from the passions and 
 prejudices of time, find an unlimited and eternal 
 scope for the play of all its benevolent affections.