PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 SM/.. 
 
 BX 7233 .P3 1885 
 Park, Edwards Amasa, 
 
 1900. 
 Discourses on some 
 
 1808- 
 
MEMORIAL DISCOURSES 
 
 BY 
 
 Professor EDWARDS A. PARK. 
 8vo. Paper Covers. 
 
 Life and Services of Professor B. B. Edwards. 1852. pp. 41. 20 cents. 
 
 Professor Moses Stuart. 1852. pp. 56. 25 cents. 
 
 Samuel Harvey Taylor, LL.D. 1871. pp. 33. 20 cents. 
 
 Samuel 0. Jackson, D.D. 1878. pp. 32. 25 cents. 
 
 ALSO, 
 A Discourse before the Pastoral Association of Massachusetts, 1834, on 
 
 The Duties of the New England Olergy. 12mo. Paper. 15 cents, 
 
 Notice. — Professor Park's recent Pamphlet, 1884, pp. 98, on the 
 Associate Creed of Andover Theological Seminary, will be sent post- 
 paid, for 30 cents. 
 
 K-1 W. F. DBAPER, TuUisher, 
 
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DISCOURSES 
 
 THEOLOGICAL DOCTHIIES 
 
 AS RELATED TO THE 
 
 EELIGIOUS CHAEACTER. 
 
 BY 
 
 EDWARDS A/ PARK, D.D. 
 
 WARREN F. DRAPER. 
 
 1885. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886, by 
 
 WARREN F. DRAPER, 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
/ 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The ensuing discourses were preached during the years 
 when the author was delivering his tlieological lectures. 
 They were connected with his lectures, as they were de- 
 signed to exhibit certain practical relations of certain theo- 
 logical doctrines, to show that the doctrines were to be 
 revered for their use in religious experience as well as for 
 their harmony with sound reason and divine inspiration. 
 The discourses were not designed to be theological or doc- 
 trinal in the full and distinctive meaning of those terms. 
 Neither were they designed to be scientific discourses. They 
 do not adopt, they sometimes avoid, the precise definitions, 
 the expressive technical terms, the logical trains of argu- 
 ment needed in such discussions; see notes on pages 176 sq., 
 232 sq. 
 
 Here and there, in consequence of his adopting popular, 
 instead of scientific, language, the author may have ex- 
 posed himself to be misunderstood. For example : in his 
 seventh sermon he might have defined the doctrine of it to 
 be, that all the divine moral attributes are comprehended in 
 the elective preference for the greater and higher, above the 
 smaller and lower, good of sentient beings, on the ground 
 of, and in proportion to, their worth. He has defined the 
 doctrine in phrases less technical and exact ; see pp. 156, 157. 
 None of these phrases favor the opinion that all the moral 
 attributes of God are comprehended in his love to his 
 creatures. They imply the contrary. When some theolo- 
 gians have affirmed that all his moral attributes are compre- 
 hended in his love for the " universe," they have used the 
 
 (iii) 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 term " univ^irse " as including not mere creatures, but the 
 Creator likewise. The term is ambiguous. Occasionally it 
 denotes this world alone ; thus we read of poets command- 
 ing the admiration of the universe. Commonly it denotes 
 not only our own globe, but likewise all other globes ; thus 
 we read of God and his universe. There are two senses, 
 however, in which the term universe comprehends the In- 
 finite Intelligence. In one of these senses the term denotes 
 all intelligent and sentient beings, created and uncreated ; 
 in the other, it denotes not only all intelligent and sentient 
 beings, but all existences, animate and inanimate, created 
 and uncreated. Of course, in both of these senses, the term 
 includes the great mind which is more worthy of our love 
 than are all other existences united. That mind is the 
 larger part of " being in general." Throughout these dis- 
 courses it is implied that the Creator is not shut out of his 
 creation, that he abides in his saints, and indeed dwells 
 in all that he has made ; is rightly denominated " Love," 
 because he loves all beings in proportion to, and on the 
 ground of, their worth ; loving all in proportion to their 
 worth he does not fail to love supremely that ideal of perfect 
 excellence which has its only perfect realization in his own 
 character ; loving all on the ground of their worth, he 
 cherishes the supreme aim to promote the glory of true and 
 pure virtue. This is his own glory, and includes the fact of 
 his promoting the highest possible good of universal being. 
 
 In their original form these sermons contained several 
 allusions to past events which have now lost their interest. 
 Some of these allusions are omitted in the present volume, 
 and their place is supplied by remarks not originally de- 
 livered, as on pages 40-44. Some of the biblical quotations 
 in the volume are made from the revised, and some from 
 the established, version of the New Testament. When 
 exact they are commonly distinguished by the full signs, 
 when inexact by the half signs, of quotation. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 PAQB 
 
 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF THE STATE TO THE CLERGY, 1 
 
 ECOLES. IX. 15. NOW THERE WAS POUND IN IT A POOR WISE MAN, AND HE BY HIS 
 WISDOM DELIVERED THE CITY ; YET NO MAN REMEMBERED THAT SAME POOR MAN. 
 
 Powerful influences are often exerted by obscure agents. The state is 
 indebted to the clergy for their influence in promoting : L The comfort 
 of the people; H. Popular education; HI. The political virtues, — 
 the virtue of, 1. Sustaining the laws and government of the land, 2. 
 Ameliorating its laws and government, 3. Cherishing the love of 
 country ; IV. General Christian benevolence, — the holiness which 
 is the security of the commonwealth. Note. Direct and' indirect 
 influence of the clergy on popular education. 
 
 SERMON 11. 
 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT, ... 45 
 
 1 COR. II. 2. FOE I DETERMINED NOT TO KNOW ANYTHING AMONG YOU SAVE JSSU8 
 CHRIST, AND HIM CRUCIFIED. 
 
 I. Meaning of the text. 1. Is knowledge controlled by will ? 2. Should 
 a Christian minister everywhere know notliing save Christ ? 3. Should 
 every layman know nothing else ? II. Importance of making ^e work 
 of Christ so prominent. Is the theme 1. Too contracted ? 2. Too ex- 
 tensive ? 3. Too monotonous ? III. Methods of resisting our natural 
 disinclination to make the work of Christ so prominent. We must 
 have 1. A fixed determination; 2. A loving determination; 3. A 
 trustful determination, to do so : we cannot rely on our own unaided 
 strength. 
 
VI TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON m. 
 
 ^ THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS, . . . 69 
 
 PSALM XIX. 1-4. THE HEAVENS DECLARE THE GLORY OB" GOD, AlTD THE FIRMAMEHT 
 8H0WETH HIS HANDY-WORK. DAY UNTO DAY UTTERETH SPEECH, AND NIGHT UNTO 
 NIGHT SHOWETH KNOWLEDGE. THERE IS NO SPEECH NOR LANGUAGE, WHEBB 
 THEIR VOICE IS NOT HEARD. THEIR LINE 18 GONE OUT THROUGH ALL THE EARTH, 
 AND THEIR WORDS TO THE END OP THE WORLD. 
 
 I. God's attributes are revealed in all his works. U. Methods of the 
 revelation, — by signs which are, 1. Naturally, 2. Conventionally, ap- 
 propriate. 111. Reasons for the revelation : 1. Manifestation of attri- 
 butes is necessarily connected with their exercise, which promotes, 2. 
 The welfare of God's offspring, 3. His own blessedness. IV. Remarks. 
 i 1. Reasonableness of God's retributive administration. 2. Harmony 
 of the atonement with other parts of divine government. 3. Harmony 
 of God's works with the feelings of a devout man. 4. The Christian 
 preacher an interpreter of nature and revelation. 
 
 SERMON lY. 
 
 THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL, ...... 97 
 
 EOMANS I. 16. FOR I AM NOT ASHAMED OF THE GOSPEL OP CHRIST; POR IT 18 THE 
 POWER OF GOD UNTO SALVATION TO EVERY ONE THAT BELIEVETH. 
 
 The gospel includes the history of Christ's active and passive obedience. 
 Its power is seen in, 1. The number of sensibilities affected by it; 2. 
 The proportion in which it addresses different sensibilities ; 3. Its 
 addressing the sensibilities at the time of their greatest need ; 4. Its 
 communicating truth as a personal favor ; 5. Its vivifying the truth by 
 sensible images ; 6. Its presentation of contrasts ; 7. Its being the 
 centre of so many and such mysterious truths. Conclusion. The 
 power of the gospel unfailing. 
 
 SERMON y. 
 
 UNION WITH CHRIST, . . .... 117 
 
 1 COR. VI. 17. BUT HE THAT IS JOINED UNTO THE LORD IS ONE SPIRIT. 
 
 Believers are united with Christ in, 1. Having his specific nature and 
 character ; 2. Deriving from him all their excellence ; 3. Being the 
 objects on which he continually and specially acts ; 4. Receiving and 
 returning his love ; 5. Having somewhat of the same destiny with him. 
 Remark on the strength, dignity, and blessedness of the pure church. 
 Conclusion. These thoughts an inspiration to the pastor. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. vii 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 ETERNITY OF GOD, 137 
 
 DEUT. XXXII. 40. FOR I LIFT XTP MY HAND TO HEAVEN, AND BAT, I LIVE FOREVER. 
 
 God's attributes are God himself. Difficulty of defining eternity. I. 
 Proof of God's eternity, — (a) his past, (IS) his future, eternity. II. 
 Remarks. 1. His eternity is harmonious with his other attributes. 
 2. It increases our reverence for them all. 3. The Redeemer's abso- 
 lute eternity proves his deity. 4. God's eternity is a theme of solace 
 to his friends. 5. Of alarm to the ungodly. Conclusion. Contrast 
 between God and man. 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD ARE COMPRE- 
 HENDED IN HIS LOVE, 155 
 
 1 JOHN IV. 16. GOD IS LOVE. 
 
 I. Doctrine : AU the moral attributes of God are comprehended in his 
 preference for the highest good of sentient being. II. Proof of the 
 doctrine from, 1. Biblical representations of virtue; 2. Examination of 
 God's moral attributes ; 3. Past history of his dispensations. III. Prac- 
 tical truths resulting from the doctrine : 1. Unity of God's character 
 and government ; 2. His kindness in his severes*^ dispensations ; 3. 
 Guilt and misery of incorrigible sinners ; 4. Ground for confidence in 
 God's government ; 5. Inducement to piety. Note. Justice a distinct 
 and peculiar form of benevolence, — not simple benevolence. 
 
 SERMON Yin. 
 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION, . 181 
 
 HEBREWS II. 10. FOR WHOM ARE ALL THINGS, AND BY WHOM ARE ALL THINGS. 
 
 It is natural to seek for causes. God created all things in order, I. To 
 promote his own happiness ; 11. To promote his happiness in exer- 
 cising his perfections ; III. To exercise his perfections in making his 
 creatures happy ; IV. To make his creatures happy in their holiness; 
 V. To make them happy and holy in his manifestation of his perfec- 
 tions ; VI. To manifest his perfections in the redemptive work of 
 Christ ; VII. To make this redemptive work a means of promoting his 
 own frlory. Answers to ohjections. (a) God's glory is not lessened 
 by being manifested in promoting the welfare of his creatures, (b) He 
 is dependent, not on them, but on his own perfection, in making them 
 happy and holy, (c) Men are not profitable to God in any way inde- 
 pendent of him. (d) Tliey please him by yielding to him what was 
 his own. Rcmnrls. 1. Tlie utility of the created universe. 2. The 
 blessedness of the redeemed. 3. The strength of the preacher. 
 
 s/ 
 
VIU TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 THE SYSTEM GF MORAL INFLUENCES IN WHICH MEN 
 ARE PLACED, 210 
 
 GENESIS III. 13-19. AND THE LORD GOD SAID UNTO THE WOMAN, WHAT 18 THIS THAT 
 THOU HAST DONE ? AND THE WOMAN SAID, THE SERPENT BEGUILED ME, AND I DID 
 EAT. AND THE LORD GOD SAID UNTO THE SERPENT, BECAUSE THOU HAST DONE 
 THIS, THOU ART CURSED ABOVE ALL CATTLE, AND ABOVE EVERT BEAST OP THE 
 FIELD : UPON THY BELLY SHALT THOU GO, AND DUST SHALT THOU EAT ALL THE 
 DAYS OP THY life: AND I WILL PUT ENMITY BETWEEN THEE AND THE WOMAN, 
 AND BETWEEN THY SEED AND HER SEED : IT SHALL BRUISE THY HEAD, AND THOU 
 SHALT BRUISE HIS HEEL. UNTO THE WOMAN HE SAID, I WILL GREATLY MULTIPLY 
 THY SORROW AND THY CONCEPTION ; IN SORROW THOU SHALT BRING FORTH CHIL- 
 DREN : AND THY DESIRE SHALL BE TO THY HUSBAND, AND HE SHALL RULE OVER 
 THEE. AND UNTO ADAM HE SAID, BECAUSE THOU HAST HEARKENED UNTO THE 
 VOICE OP THY WIFE, AND HAST EATEN OF THE TREE OP WHICH I COMMANDED THEE, 
 SAYING, THOU SHALT NOT EAT OP IT; CURSED IS THE GROUND FOR THY SAKE; IN 
 SORROW SHALT THOU EAT OP IT ALL THE DAYS OP THY LIFE; THORNS ALSO AND 
 THISTLES SHALL IT BRING FORTH TO THEE: AND THOU SHALT EAT THE HERB OB" 
 THE field: IN THE SWEAT OP THY FACE SHALT THOU EAT BREAD, TILL THOtT 
 RETURN UNTO THE GROUND; FOR OUT OF IT WAST THOU TAKEN; FOR DUST THOTT 
 ART, AND UNTO DUST SHALT THOU RETURN. 
 
 The depth of this truth indicates its inspiration. I. The fact that mutual 
 relations exist between, 1. Man and unsentient matter; 2. Man and 
 irrational animals ; 3. Man and man. II. Advantages of these mutual 
 relations. They, 1. Lead to a trust in divine sovereignty ; 2. Reveal 
 the divine equity ; 3. Illustrate the evil of sin ; 4. Persuade to holy 
 living ; 5. Are the means of eternal blessedness. Conclusion. Analo- 
 gies between the first and second Adam. Note. Parallelism between 
 the fall and the atonement. 
 
 SERMON X. 
 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR, . . .234 
 
 MATTHEW XI. 5. THE BLIND RECEIVE THEIR SIGHT, AND THE LAME WALK; THE 
 LEPERS ARE CLEANSED, AND THE DEAP HEAR; THE DEAD ARE RAISED UP, AND 
 THE POOR HAVE THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THEM. 
 
 The internal evidence for the gospel more momentous than the external. 
 I. Wliat is made known by Christ through his ministers? The gospel. 
 n. How is it made known ? By preaching. III. To whom is it 
 preached ? The poor, because, 1. They ultimately have a controlling 
 influence ; 2. They represent the majority of men ; 3. They feel their 
 need of the gospel ; 4. The preaching of it to the poor unites different 
 classes of society. Conclusion. The divinity of Christ's mission indi- 
 cated. The preacher an almoner to the poor, because he presents 
 in their combination the doctrines which are adapted to relieve the 
 greatest poverty. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. IX 
 
 SERMON XI. 
 
 CONSCIENCE, 260 
 
 ROMAN8 II. 14, 15. FOR WHEN GENTILES WHICH HAVE HO LAW DO BT NATURE THE 
 THINGS OF THE LAW, THESE, HAVING NO LAW, ARE A LAW UNTO THEMSELVES; IN 
 THAT THET snow THE WORK OP THE LAW WRITTEN IN THEIR HEARTS, THEIR CON- 
 SCIENCE BEARING WITNESS THEREWITH, AND THEIR THOUGHTS ONE WITH ANOTHER 
 ACCUSING OR ELSE EXCUSING THEJI. 
 
 All men possess conscience. I. The functions of conscience are, to 1. 
 Form an idea of the right ; 2. Decide what choices are right ; 3. 
 Perceive and feel obligation ; 4. Approve and disapprove acts of choice; 
 5. Perceive and feel merit and demerit ; 6. Demand rewards and 
 punishments ; 7. Excite anticipation of reward and punishment. II. 
 The nature of conscience suggests, 1. The greatness it imparts to the 
 mind ; 2. Its activity and tenacity ; 3. Its authority and power ; 4. Its 
 influence on religious beliefs ; 5. The action and reaction of the moral 
 faculty and spiritual character. Conclusion. Exception to the law of 
 conscience, in Christ's experience. Notes. A. Authorities for the 
 preceding definition of conscience. B. Definitions of " merit of con- 
 dignity" and "congruity." C. Conscience as exciting anticipation of 
 punishment. D. Theories of voUtion in case of rapid motions of the 
 body. E. Samuel Taylor Coleridge on the tenacity of memory. 
 
 SERMON Xn. 
 
 INFLUENCES AFFECTING THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST 
 CONSIDERED AS A MAN, 297 
 
 LUKE II. 52. AND JESUS ADVANCED IN WISDOM AND STATITRB, AND IN FAVOR WITH 
 
 GOD AND MEN. 
 
 Wrong ideas of Christ's development may arise from too exclusive atten- 
 tion to his humanity or his divinity. His human character was 
 affected by, 1. The familiar occupations and arts of men ; 2. The 
 influences of nature ; 3. His familiarity with the Holy Scriptures ; 4. 
 His private and pubUc worship of God ; 5. His temptations ; 6. His 
 afflictions ; 7. The influences of the Divine Mind. Conclusion. His 
 character thus perfected is a faultless and complete model for human 
 imitation. The relation of this perfection to the atonement. Notes. 
 A. The sermon emphasizes, 1. The truth of Christ's human nature ; 
 2. The perfection of his character ; 3. Our ignorance as to the periods 
 and rapidity of his advances in wisdom ;. 4. The implicit reliance to 
 be placed on his teaching. B. The minor temptations arising from his 
 circumstances. 
 
X TABLE OP CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON XIII. 
 
 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER IN ANTICIPATION OF 
 HIS DEATH, 328 
 
 MATTHEW XXVT. 38. JIT SOUL IS EXOEEDING 60RROWFUL, EVEN UNTO DEATH. 
 
 Various circumstances would lead to the expectation that Christ would 
 anticipate death with cheerfulness. These are, (1) The peculiarities 
 of his constitution ; (2) His elevation above the race ; (3) Tlie ties 
 binding him to the future life ; (4) The publicity of his sufferings ; 
 (5) The results expected from them ; (6). The providence and 
 promises of his Father ; (7) The general style of his conversation ; 
 (8) The union of his humanity with divinity. No adequate idea can 
 be gained of the degree of his suffering : 1. On the cross as an instru- 
 ment of torture and disgrace ; 2. In his sympathy with tlie miseries of 
 men ; 3. In his meditation on human sinfulness ; 4. In the exjjiatory 
 and propitiatory nature of his pains. Conclusion. Christ's reward, 
 the measure of his suffering. Note. The words "My God, my God, 
 why hast thou forsaken me ? " are to be interpreted in harmony with, 
 1. Christ's general character ; 2. The general sentiment of his last 
 hours ; 3. The general style of biblical passages relating to the 
 atonement. 
 
 SERMON XIV. 
 
 THE RIGHTEOUS MAN'S SATISFACTION WITH THE 
 CHARACTER OF GOD, 3^6 
 
 PSALM XVII. 15. AS FOR ME, I WILL BEHOLD THY FACE IN RIGHTEOUSNESS; I SHALL 
 BE SATISFIED, WHEN I AWAKE, WITH THT LIKENESS. 
 
 Man (a) Is not, (h) Never was, (c) Never will be, satisfied with earthly 
 pursuits ; but the righteous man will be satisfied (d) With the divine, 
 1. Intellect, 2. Sensibilities, 3. Holiness ; (e) With being in the divine 
 image. He (/) May be satisfied suddenly ; (g) Does not know the 
 time when ; (A) Needs a radical change to be thus satisfied. Conclusion. 
 The discipline necessary for the change should be welcomed. Notes. 
 A. The text may receive a Christian exposition. B. The retributions 
 of eternity are both moral and positive. 
 
 INDEX, 879 
 
I. 
 
 TEE INDEBTEDNESS OF THE STATE 
 TO THE CLERGY/ 
 
 ECCLESIASTES IX. 15. 
 
 HOW THKKE WAS FOUND IN IT A POOR WISE ISTAN, AND HE BT HIS WISDOM DELIV- 
 ERED THE CITY j YET NO MAN REMEMBERED THAT SAME POOR MAN. 
 
 In the kingdom of nature the greatest effects are produced 
 by occult forces. Magnetism and electricity had been work- 
 ing out their mightiest results for ages before their existence 
 was recognized. Gravitation is a latent power which worlds 
 obey in silence. Throughout the sphere of mind, also, ener- 
 gies are felt when not acknowledged. By the force of an 
 idea, one man will move a whole community, and he will be 
 forgotten while his idea lives on. There is a class of persons 
 who, in some States of our Union, are debarred by law from 
 all civil office, and among whom a rich man is a phenome- 
 non. The spirit of their profession and their habits of 
 thought disincline, or perhaps incapacitate them for pecuniary 
 speculation. They are persons whose rightful influence 
 comes from their good thoughts and good character. These 
 are their wisdom, and by it, through the aid of Heaven, they 
 deliver the State from many an evil. Still, the results of 
 their labor are often delicate, refined, and therefore imno- 
 ticed. The consequence is, that no one who limits his view 
 to tangible benefits remembereth these same poor men. 
 
 ' A Sermon delivered before His Excellency George N. Briggs, Governor ; His 
 Honor John Reed, Lieut. Governor; the Honorable Council, and the Legislature 
 of Massachusetts at the Annual Election, Jan. 2, 1851. 
 
2 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 It may be thought a singular and forced process by which 
 this description can be applied to clergymen. They have 
 often dwelt in ceiled houses ; they have been the first officers 
 in the realm, and have held their foot on the neck of kings. 
 And as they have not been always poor, neither, by any means, 
 have they been always wise ; for it has been said by one 
 who has, however, overstated the truth, " that the surest sign 
 of the divine authority of our religion is, that it has not yet 
 been exterminated by those who have essayed to preach it." 
 In lieu of delivering the State from harm, the State has often 
 prayed to be delivered from them ; and, so far from not being 
 remembered, it is impossible for the millions who have suf- 
 fered by them ever to forget them. 
 
 For the faults of the clergy we have no time now to apolo- 
 gize. It were as unsafe to condemn them in a mass as to 
 extol them in a mass. Their ranks have included some of the 
 worst, and some of the best men whom the world has ever seen. 
 We may consider them, however, not as they have uniformly 
 been in fact, but as we may reasonably expect them to be ; 
 as complying with the tendencies of their office ; as represen- 
 tatives of a doctrinal system which is better than they are 
 themselves ; as faithful, in some good measure, to their pro- 
 fessions ; as identifying their own history with much of the 
 history of the gospel ; as "living epistles," imperfect, indeed, 
 but yet fairly expressive of the truth. We may consider 
 them as they have usually appeared among the various sects 
 of this Commonwealth ; and, not dilating on their highest 
 usefulness to the spiritual and eternal interests of men, we 
 may take a narrower view of their function, and in this grave 
 presence may consider, I trust, without any unfitness, 
 
 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 
 
 We might illustrate this indebtedness by describing the 
 eflfort which would be needed for undoing the good already 
 done through clerical influence, and by describing the scenes 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 3 
 
 which would ensue if this influence should now entirely 
 cease. But, pursumg a more direct method, we may remark, 
 that 
 
 I. The State is indebted to the clergy for their influence 
 in promoting the comfort of the people. Other things being 
 equal, that nation is the most secure whose citizens are the 
 most happy, and the citizens are the most happy when their 
 natural sensibilities have at once the freest and most health- 
 ful play. Hence it is one aim of the Commonwealth to 
 satisfy, where it wisely can, tlie instinctive impulses of the 
 people. It provides a fit gratification for the sense of honor, 
 the spirit of liberty, the love of enterprise, of repose, of 
 amusement even. Sometimes it regulates prices, forbids 
 dangerous sports, encourages the fine arts, increases the 
 facilities of locomotion, with the primary intent of diSusing 
 good cheer which wins men to good citizenship. More than 
 one government has been convulsed with revolutions, merely 
 because it did not appease the appetite of hunger among the 
 populace. Now, there is in man a religious sentiment, some- 
 times noiseless because it is deep, and sometimes the deepest 
 when partially repressed, which must be gratified, or man 
 becomes restive, querulous, tumultuous, ungovernable. It is 
 a complex feeling, not always nor in general involving a holy 
 preference, but including some necessary processes of our 
 very constitution. Much of it consists in man's natural 
 tendency to look upward, to revere a power above him, to 
 feel his dependence upon it, an involuntary thankfulness 
 toward it, a moral accountability to it, a hope of being re- 
 warded by it for virtues, a fear of being punished by it for 
 vices, a dread of it as just, a complacency in it as bounteous 
 and loving. This religious sentiment will and must be 
 expressed. Here it resembles, not the fire in the flint, which 
 is struck out by concussion, but the light of a lamp, which is 
 itself radiant. For one mode of its expression, it insists on 
 having a consecrated order of men who shall be an embodi- 
 
4 THE INDEBTEDNESS OP 
 
 ment of the religious idea. It demands either the priest or 
 the minister as an organ of communication between earth and 
 heaven, — an organ through which the feelings of the people 
 may be uttered to God, and the richest favors of God may be 
 transmitted to the people. It is a dictate of nature, that 
 such an organ be required by men for expressing their 
 dcvotcdness to a superior power, because, themselves being 
 disturbed by the turmoils of life, they confide so much the 
 more in a selected band who dwell amid the stillness of the 
 temple, and are imagined to have the spirit, as they are seen 
 to have the marks, of peculiar sanctity. On the same prin- 
 ciple, it is an impulse of nature that men desire a special 
 organ for receiving their choicest gifts from heaven ; because, 
 immersed as men are in the cares of life, they need a class 
 of teachers from whom they may gain spiritual wisdom. They 
 have a faith in the teaching and example of those who devote 
 their life to the mysteries of religion, as they have a faith in 
 the instructions of professed mechanicians, or philosophers, 
 or jurists. It is sometimes asked, whether the ministry be a 
 divine or merely human institution. It is divine as the 
 religious sentiment itself. It is divine as the human soul. 
 It was no more devised by man than his constitutional instincts 
 were devised by him. Mr. Hume says,' that priests may 
 "justly be regarded as an invention of a timorous and abject 
 superstition ;" but it is a superstition which cannot be rea- 
 soned down, nor flattered down, nor awed down, nor sneered 
 down. It is no more timorous than our very conscience, no 
 more abject than is our filial affection. It pervades the wide 
 world. Every tribe of men has its sacred orders. They are 
 in the pagoda, the mosque, the cathedral, the meeting-house. 
 The rites of worship have not been multiplied by the gospel, 
 but rather diminished, — made less instead of more imposing; 
 yet we might as soon find a musical people without professed 
 musicians, and a seafaring people without an order of cap- 
 tains, and a martial people without a rank of headmen, as a 
 nation who receive the gospel and disown its Sabbaths and its 
 
 ' Essay X. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 6 
 
 teachers. With us, the alternative is between the Christian 
 religion and no religion at all ; and therefore, as we accept 
 Christianity, so we must take with it some form of its minis- 
 ti'j. This ministry has indued a positive, which is of itself a 
 sure basis, but this basis overlies a moral groundwork. The 
 adaptation of the office to the very make of the soul, is a 
 signature of its divine origin ; and is alike the cause and the 
 proof of its irrepressible influence. When men are forcibly 
 deprived of their religious counsellors, they refuse to be 
 comforted. Hence, the Gregories and the Innocents have 
 regulated their government by the principle, that the masses 
 of men, who can bear all things else, will never long endure 
 an interdict on their ministers, and therefore a monarch can 
 be punished most effectively by silencing, on his account, the 
 priesthood in his kingdom. For his people, if shut out from 
 their sanctuaries, will be as uneasy as if barred from the free 
 air ; and sooner or later will trample on the throne and rush 
 over it to the altar, or else will persuade their king to make 
 concessions, any concessions, to purchase, to beg a resumption 
 of tliose soothing offices with which the fondest affections of 
 men, women and children are intertwined. 
 
 When in the gloom of night death comes to the first-born 
 of a mother, it is in her very nature to listen for the voice of 
 the man of God who may say, " It is well witli the child." 
 To the mourners who bend over the bier, and take their 
 farewell of the friend whom they are to see no more, there is 
 a meaning which they must feel, for they are so made as to 
 feel it either for good or ill, in the words of their Comforter 
 in heaven, who speaks to them through his anointed servants 
 on earth. As the human sensibilities are, the best reliefs 
 for the afflicted will not, even if they can, be enjoyed where 
 there is no order of men distinctively and divinely set apart 
 to administer them. Although the name of a p'astor is seldom 
 mentioned by an historian,^ yet the real unwritten history 
 
 1 There is too much trutli in the remark of Dr. Chunning, that history "has 
 not a place even in the mar<;in for the minister and the school-mistress." 
 
6 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 of the race is not, in the main, made up of wars and of 
 diplomatic manoeuvres, but of those domestic griefs which the 
 pastor assuages, and of those private joys which he hallows. 
 He supplies a want too profound to be reached by mere civil 
 enactments, too delicate to be touched by armed magistrates, 
 too radical to be left without the care of philanthropists 
 especially devoted to it. The clergy, then, instead of being, 
 as they are sometimes regarded, mere goads and stings to 
 the public conscience, made for teasing and annoying a quiet 
 population, are the ministers of solace, and of that peace 
 which no political economy can give or take away. They 
 earn more thanks than they receive from the government for 
 cooperating with it in multiplying the satisfactions of life, 
 and for insinuating a happy influence into those recesses of 
 the soul, which are closed against all other than spiritual 
 appliances. 
 
 II. The State is indebted to the clergy for their influence 
 in educating the people. Every land should have its native 
 literature, and especially our land, which is overspread with 
 writings foreign to us alike in origin and spirit. Now, the 
 religious is the most durable part of our national literature, 
 and this should be in harmony with the genius of our institu- 
 tions. The larger portion of our sacred lore is in the products 
 of the pulpit. If the sermons preaclied in our land during a 
 single year were all printed, they would fill a hundred and 
 twenty million octavo pages. Many of these sermons are, 
 indeed, specimens of human weakness ; but the frailest vase 
 may hold roots that will far outgrow its own dimensions. The 
 themes of the dullest preacher may germinate into a quick- 
 ening life. The mind is so framed as to be stimulated by 
 tlie queries, — ' Who am I ? Of what kingdom am I a spiritual 
 citizen ? Am I to live forever ? If so, in what realm, in 
 what condition, with what companions, under wliat laws ? 
 The Judge from whom there is no appeal, the Monarch 
 whose sway over me will be without end — how can I gain 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLEKGY. 7 
 
 his favor ' ? Now, the church is the people's university for 
 the study of such questions. The minister, therefore, is a 
 teacher of science, — the science of the human soul, in which 
 every cautious man feels a personal interest, — the science of 
 that Great Spirit, whose attributes either alarm or delight 
 men, and in either case touch their deepest sympathies. 
 This is the science for which man was made, for which he was 
 made inquisitive ; which has already, more than any other 
 object, tasked the ingenuity of thinkers, and waked up the 
 sensibilities of men otherwise lethargic. It arouses the reli- 
 gious principle ; and this, when started, sets all the wheels 
 of mental activity in motion.^ It feels after the truth, if 
 haply it may find it. It expands the character. It is this 
 principle which made our forefathers great and trustworthy 
 men. Many a pastor has noticed that a renewal of Christian 
 faith is often combined with a renovation of the intellectual 
 life. And the minister teaches not in the listless way of 
 writing books, but with the living voice ; with those tones and 
 emphases which, in an orator like our own Stillman, are 
 themselves almost a doctrine ; not with the voice alone, but 
 with the hand, which opens in order to give out the truth ; 
 with the eye, which radiates a thought unutterable by the 
 lips ; with the whole person, which bodies forth what is con- 
 cealed within.^ And instead of writing on this science for 
 here and there an insulated reader, the minister preaches to 
 
 * The celebrated infidel, D'Alcrabert, speaking of the Protestant Reformation, 
 says : " The new doctrines of the reformers, defended on one side and attacked 
 on the other with that ardor which the cause of God, well or ill understood, is alone 
 able to inspire, equally obliged their defenders and their opponents to acquire 
 instruction. Emulation, animated by this powerful motive, increased all kinds of 
 knowledge, and light, raised from amidst error and dissension, was cast upon all 
 objects, even such as appeared most foreign to those in dispute." 
 
 * When John Adams was informed, in a letter from a parish committee, that 
 the cliurch-pew which ho had then recently selected for himself was, by means of 
 an intervening pillar, badly situated for his seeing the preacher, he returned the 
 following laconic reply : " Faith cometh by hearing." But in the department of 
 oratory, men hear with their eyes as well as ears. The full hearing of the truth 
 involves a vision of the man who expresses it. 
 
8 THE INDEBTEDNESS OP 
 
 a sympathizing congregation, to fatlicrs and mothers sur- 
 rounded by their offspring in comely attire. With this 
 animating influence of a multitude upon each other, he com- 
 bines the influence of a consecrated day, when business is 
 stilled so as to make his whisper audible. He speaks, too, in 
 the temple which men feel to be sacred, and in which the 
 pulpit is raised in dignity above the pews. All these inci- 
 dents, making his hearers the more susceptible, make his 
 words the more impressive. He preaches, also, not to those 
 alone who can educate themselves, but to the masses of men, 
 who depend on him for their moral instruction ; who, being 
 near the basis, form the support of the political system ; who 
 are continually sending up both men and influences to 
 invigorate the higher classes of society. It is one seal of the 
 Divine wisdom in our religion, that truth so disciplinary 
 should be made known in a method so quickening, to the 
 class of men who are in such peculiar need of being trained in 
 this peculiar way. And here lies the eloquence in the climax 
 of Him who spake as never man spake, and who specifies, as 
 the signs of his mission, that " the blind receive their sight, 
 and the lame walk ; the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf 
 hear ; the dead are raised up, and " (more than all these 
 physical blessings) " the poor have the gospel preached to 
 them." 
 
 It is not, then, to any unusual genius possessed by clergy- 
 men, — for often their character is disfigured by no such 
 excrescence, — nor to any magical arts which they practise, 
 that we must ascribe the enlivening influence of their words ; 
 but we impute it to the adaptations of their office, to the 
 inherent fitnesses of their message, to the attendant influences 
 of Him who blends his own power with the truth which he 
 has revealed. Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton says : ^ " A man 
 must preach very well indeed, before he conveys such a 
 lesson of the greatness of God, and the unworthiness of man, 
 as a view of the heavens discloses." This is well said ; but 
 if any minister has the soul of a minister, and believes the 
 
 ' Memoir, p. 203. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 9 
 
 pure gospel, and feels what he believes, and speaks what he 
 feels, he preaches very well indeed ; for the truths which he 
 utters are more radiant than the stars of the sky, and his 
 soul, if duly enlarged by those truths, is greater than the 
 expanse of the heavens, and the shining forth of such truths 
 from such a soul awakens and enlightens men who would 
 sleep under the starry heavens without once dreaming of 
 their Author. And the same noble baronet who has now 
 been named, and who has, perhaps, achieved as good a work 
 for the imprisoned and the enslaved as any man of the last 
 half century, says,' near the close of his beneficent career : 
 " Whatever I have done in my life for Africa, the seeds of it 
 were sown in my heart in Wheeler-street Chapel." " It was 
 much, and of vast moment, that I there learned from" the 
 minister of that sanctuary. And what and where is Wheeler- 
 street Chapel ? The world have never heard of Wheeler- 
 street Chapel, but the world have heard of Sir Fowell Bux- 
 ton ; and the chain of the slave loosens at the mention of his 
 name, and Ethiopia stretches out her hands to welcome him 
 to her fond embrace ; and the children of her schools which 
 were founded by his care, have learned his history by heart, 
 and will engrave it on bracelets of gold around their wrists ; 
 — yet the eloquence with which he instructed the British 
 Senate, the skill with which he gained the sympathies of his 
 countrymen, and the vigor with which he broke the bands 
 of the West India slave, he traced back to the educating 
 influences of a pulpit in a small, weather-beaten chapel of 
 Spitalfields ; for from that pulpit he learned those truths that 
 touch the most elastic springs of intellectual as well as moral 
 enterprise, — that are subtle enough to reach, as nothing else 
 can, the hiding-places of the conscience, and to make it 
 familiar with great thoughts which make the mind great, 
 and so to regulate the association of ideas that one may 
 find " sermons in stones, books in the running brooks," and 
 religious lessons in the starry heavens that preach so well. 
 
 ' Memoir, p. 46i 
 
10 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 The strictly religious truths of the Bible must, from their 
 intellectual spirit, have an affinity with all knowledge. He 
 who is curious to learn them is the more easily interested in 
 everything which can illustrate them. The sciences pertain- 
 ing to the works of God, are involved in the science pertain- 
 ing to his character. Not a few mechanical inventions, even, 
 have been made by clergymen. The world has been enriched 
 by the chemical researches of Priestley ; but he indulged 
 himself in these as an aid to his theological, which were his 
 main studies. Many minds have been expanded by the 
 astronomical discourses of Chalmers ; but he studied the stars 
 of heaven as moral lights to guide him in his pilgrimage 
 through this dark world. Much of the ethical philosophy 
 now taught in our learned schools, is borrowed from the 
 sermons of Bishop Butler. The sensibilities of men have 
 been ennobled by the architecture of the cathedral ; but the 
 sublimer principles of this architecture have been discovered 
 by the priests in their aim to image forth an inward by an 
 outward grandeur. The public taste has been refined by the 
 music of the choir ; but many of the most solemn harmonies 
 have been composed by the ministers of the altar. It is the 
 religious sentiment which has suggested the costliest products 
 of the chisel and the pencil ; for whatever is grand or beautiful 
 is affianced to religious truth. More than one Lord Chan- 
 cellor has committed to memory the sermons of more than 
 one Dr. Barrow, merely for their inevitable words which come 
 from a hearty faith. We infer the conduct of men from 
 their interests, and the interests of a clergyman require him 
 to disseminate as well as to gain intelligence. " Because the 
 preacher was wise," says Ecclesiastes, " he still taught the 
 people knowledge." He discourses with a freer and manlier 
 spirit, when the minds of his hearers have been raised up to 
 an interest in the lofty discussions pertaining to Him before 
 whom the mountains flow down. We confess with shame 
 that the preacher has not always understood his interests. 
 He has often been afraid to learn, and still oftener afraid to 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 11 
 
 teach. But this was the abuse, not the use, of his office. In 
 the darkest ages, however, he made " the benefit of the 
 clergy " arise from an erudition superior to that of most 
 other men. In those cold ages, the church, at immense cost 
 and pains, fondly preserved the literature of the world, even 
 as the mother who lay freezing on the snow wrapped her own 
 tattei-ed garments around her babe, which she warmed and 
 cherished in her bosom. There was darkness in the world 
 at those times, because the messengers of heaven forgot their 
 errand to preach the gospel. They deemed the truths of 
 religion so stimulating as to be dangerous for the common 
 mind. Still, even then they betrayed the affinities of their 
 office : they were the jurists, the arithmeticians, the rhetori- 
 cians of the world ; they comprehended all the sciences and 
 even the arts in theology, and some of them must even now 
 be regarded as prodigies of learning. The best universities 
 of the Old World have been founded by clerical influence. 
 Nearly all our own colleges, as those at Waterville, Middle- 
 bury, Hanover, Providence, New Haven, Princeton, were 
 organized by ministers, for the main purpose of disseminating 
 the religious truth which loves to find and to make men 
 intelligent. When Boston contained no more than tliirty 
 houses, and Massachusetts no more than twenty-five civilized 
 towns, the pastors devised the plan of Harvard College, with 
 the primary intent of making Worthy preachers and fit hearers 
 of the truth, which is the life of the soul. It is interesting to 
 notice the degree in which divmes like our Mayhews and 
 Chauncys labored to make plain the very rudiments of 
 popular instruction. And, at the present day, no small 
 part of the minister's energy is spent in aiding the teachers, 
 animating the pupils, preserving the order and inspecting 
 the progress, of our common schools.^ Without his genial 
 
 1 Professor Stowe, wlio has held an important official connection wntli the 
 public schools of Ohio, says : " My experience has tausrht mc to despair of 
 establishin<r, with any permanency, even a good district school, where there is not a 
 good church and an intelligent ministry to watch over and sustain it." President 
 
12 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 interest, these schools had never been, as they now are, the 
 treasures of our State. Our clergy and our schoolmasters 
 have long been in communion, so that one of our own native 
 poets has said of our Commonwealth, that she never 
 
 " Dreads the skeptic's puny hands, 
 While near her school the church-spire stands, 
 Nor fears the blinded bigot's rule, 
 While near her church-spire stands a school." 
 
 There are a thousand other avenues through which the 
 learning of a clergyman, who is what he ought to be, flows 
 into the very hearts of his people. The fact that he is a 
 scholar adds a power, and the fact that he is known to be a 
 scholar adds an authority, to even his common words. From 
 such a man as Owen, or Bates, or Calamy, or Poole, or 
 Flavel, each of whom wrote his scholastic folios amid the 
 pressure of parochial care, there went forth, — it could not be 
 otherwise, — there stole forth from his very attitude and mien 
 ks he strolled along the by-ways of his parish, — there breathed 
 itself forth an influence which raised the aims and refined the 
 thoughts of young men. Amid the multitude of brighter 
 names which have adorned the pulpit, we seldom hear of 
 Robert Bolton, who published five theological quartos, trans- 
 lated the whole of Homer, and commented on the wbole of 
 Aquinas, and studied the Fathers as if he cared nothing for 
 his contemporaries ; yet this same divine associated with his 
 contemporaries as if he cared nothing for the Fathers, and 
 in his daily walks through the lanes of his precinct, he bore 
 the results of his multifarious learning to the doors of the 
 
 Sears, once the indefatigable Secretary of the Massachusetts Board of Education, 
 says : " The efficient coadjutors which I have had the happiness to find in all 
 parts of the State, while engaged in niy official duties, belong to no one profession 
 or class of men. It may, however, be said, without any injustice to others, that 
 the clergy, of evciy name, in the Commonwealth, have been second to no other 
 men in respect to an enlightened policy and energetic action in promoting the 
 education of the people." 
 
THE STATE TO TUE CLERGY. 13 
 
 humblest peasantry. On one page in the life of Baxter we 
 read of his toiling, amid pains and faintness, over the last of 
 the hundred and sixty-six treatises which he wrote for the 
 press ; and on another page we read of him laden with the 
 fruits of his erudition, and diffusing the influence of it among 
 the inmates of a hovel at Kidderminster. It is told of an 
 ancient astronomer, that when reproved for his want of pa- 
 triotism, he defended himself by pleading, " My country is in 
 the heavens." But we read of Jonathan Edwards writing at 
 one hour of the day, which he calls his leisure hour, that 
 Treatise on the Will which David Hume and Dugald Stewart 
 and Sir James Mackintosh ranked with the works of Locke 
 and Leibnitz ; and at another, which was his business hour, 
 mingling as a father with the untutored Lidians of his neigh- 
 borliood, preaching once in a week to the Mohawks, and once 
 in a week to the Housatunnucks, and often catechizing their 
 vagrant children. His country, too, was in the heavens ; but 
 it was pleasant for him to walk thither hand in hand with the 
 poor pilgrims, who might otherwise wander far away from 
 the home of the Great Spirit. 
 
 I know that men like these do not appear every day and 
 everywhere, but the difference is often in degree, not in kind; 
 for in many a New England hamlet there is now a parsonage 
 where tlie gems of sacred lore are treasured up, where the 
 spirit of the patriarch is refined by a patient and liberal 
 culture; but while the world is running out in search of noisy 
 captains who boast themselves to be patriots, and escorting 
 them in long processions, " all the while sonorous metal " 
 breathing martial sounds, this man, whose inward worth is 
 equal to his freedom from outward display, and who might 
 have been famed in the senate had he not cliosen to minister 
 unto the necessities of the saints, is now living as the educa- 
 tor of a retired parish, speaking a word in season to herds- 
 men's boys, and imitating while he serves the great Teacher 
 who said, " Suffer the little children to come unto me, and 
 forbid them not ; " but from the circle of hardy youths who 
 
14 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 enjoy his counsel there will come forth robust and earnest 
 scholars, who will invigorate the literature of their country, 
 and gather to themselves the honors of the State, while no 
 one remembereth the poor wise man who delivered them from 
 their ignorance ; but he toils on, willing to be obscure, so he 
 may humbly serve his generation, and waiting with a resigned 
 and pensive spirit for the day when he shall be borne by a few 
 devout men to his burial, and when he who hath been faith- 
 ful over a few things shall be made ruler over many things, 
 and shall enter with loud acclaim into the joy of his Lord. 
 
 III. The State is indebted to the clergy for their influence 
 in promoting the political virtues. So gentle and well-nigh 
 domestic is the pastor's vocation, as in the view of some to 
 steal away his manly energy. Yet the very men who are 
 most inclined to smile at what they term his effeminate 
 manners, are the most sensitive to his interference with 
 politics. They cannot forgive it unless it be what they 
 significantly call, "on the right side^ The reason is, that his 
 words, homely as they may seem, come with a power peculiar 
 to his office, and therefore go down into the recesses of the 
 soul, made as it is for religious appeal.^ Hence he is suspected 
 of unfairness, when he gives up to a party, what is required 
 for the common good. He should be wise, then, in setting 
 bounds to his political activity. He should be careful that 
 his political influence not only be, but also seem to be, in 
 behalf of virtue. He should be and appear to be solicitous, 
 not so much for the outward forms as for the moral spirit 
 of politics. Hence he should never be vociferous in civil 
 affairs, so as to let the minister be lost sight of in the politi- 
 cian. His influence on those affairs will be greater and 
 better, if he make them secondary to his more spiritual 
 duties. He loses his political influence if he think too much 
 
 1 " Many [State] constitutions exclude the clergy fiom voting, because their 
 influence, always great, is feared if they interfere with politics." Lieber's Politi- 
 cal Ethics, Part II., p. 268. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 15 
 
 of it. He must never contend in such a way for the interests 
 of this world, as to mar the felicity of his pleading for the 
 interests of another. His general rule should be, to make 
 the Sabbath a day of rest, and the sanctuary a place of rest, 
 for friends and foes who are wearied with their earthly 
 strifes. His habits and his sympathies disqualify him for the 
 personal details of politics. When he goes far beyond the 
 discussion of principles into a mere partisanship for men,' he 
 is out of his sphere, and that simplicity which is and ought 
 to be his most amiable virtue, is the means of his being de- 
 ceived into wrong estimates of character. Still he is a man, 
 a citizen, a teacher, a moral guide, and as such he must utter 
 many truths relating to our civil duties. He must, for ex- 
 ample, exhort his hearers to " owe no man anything," even 
 if he should be suspected of looking toward some laws about 
 fraudulent bankruptcy and repudiation. As the theology of 
 the pulpit is linked with all sciences, so is its religion with all 
 virtues. Politics cannot be sealed up hermetically against 
 moral influence. Like the air of heaven, this influence per- 
 vades every sphere of life. Welcomed or opposed, it must be 
 met,2 Religion will either refine politics, or politics will con- 
 taminate religion. In self-defence, therefore, as well as in 
 fealty to the State, the minister pleads for the duties of good 
 citizenship. It is one divine signature of his religion, that 
 the same virtues which it demands without reasoning and 
 merely as enjoined by God, are reasoned out by the physiolo- 
 gist to be promotive of health, and by the statesman to be 
 needed for the national growth. The germs of political ethics 
 are thus in the Bible. By a train of religious sentiment, 
 Fenelon unfolded the essential principles which Adam Smith 
 
 ^ There is an obvious difference between the discussion of political principles 
 on the one hand, and the meddling with politics on the other. 
 
 * " To be a real patriot, a man must consider his countrymen as God's crea- 
 tures, and himself as accountable for his acting towards them. If jrro mis rt 
 focis be the life of patriotism, he who hath no religion and no home, makes a 
 suspected patriot." — Berkeley's Maxims concerning Patriotism. 
 
16 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 afterwards erected into the new science of Political Economj. 
 In an indirect way, the minister is a politician when he ex- 
 plains and enforces, as he does so often, the duties of parents 
 and children ; for these duties are essential to the order of 
 the family ; this order, as it represents in miniature, so it fa- 
 cilitates the government of, a nation. A family is the cement 
 of the political system ; and unless it be carefully watched, 
 the Commonwealth will not be peacefully ruled. But all his- 
 tory proves that the virtues of the household will not be long- 
 preserved, where they are not fostered by those ministers of 
 the church who, in their lowly services, are among the best 
 ministers of the State. At the commencement of the last 
 half century, some islands of the sea were sunk in the deep- 
 est barbarism, but now send their ambassadors to the courts 
 of Europe. A few preachers from New England carried to 
 them the story of that remarkable personage who came to be 
 a model for the child and the parent, the scholar and the 
 teacher, the layman and the priest, the fellow-citizen and the 
 judge, the servant and the lawgiver, the subject and the king, 
 the vanquished and the conqueror ; — and that story makes 
 men think of political maxims which it does not expressly 
 mention, and gives men one link which draws after it the 
 whole chain of political virtues.^ 
 
 One of these virtues, which the clergy are inclined by the 
 very genius of their office to encourage, is that of sustaining 
 the laws and government of the land. A church-going are apt 
 to be a law-abiding people. Their pastor has a professional 
 regard for law. He loves its moral influence. He esteems a 
 good statute as a sermon, and obedience to it as a prepara- 
 tive for acquiescence in the divine will. He represents re- 
 ligion as consisting in this acquiescence, and he fears that 
 men who love to disobey the ruler whom they have seen, will 
 also disobey the Sovereign whom they have not seen. His 
 
 ' The Sandwich Islanders have more than once forwarded money to the 
 United States, in aid of our National charities. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 17 
 
 oflfice is to prove that the true submission to government in- 
 volves a benevolent regard to the common good ; that it is 
 therefore not pusillanimous, but a noble virtue ; and as men 
 must love the law of God in order to acquiesce in the gospel, 
 so they must obey the laws of man in order to enjoy true 
 freedom. 
 
 He teaches, indeed, on the principles of natural reason, 
 that civil government is of divine origin ; not merely because 
 it exists in the providence of God, for sin itself exists in the 
 same providence, without having God for its author. But 
 civil government is of divine origin, because and so far forth 
 as, it is prompted by those normal instincts within us which 
 are of divine workmanship. Our Maker has given us a 
 tendency to revere and obey magistrates. Speaking through 
 our constitution, then, he has ordained them. And as gov- 
 ernment comes thus from a divine impulse, so it has a divine 
 right ; not merely because it is providentially so strong that 
 it cannot be resisted, and therefore ought to be welcomed, 
 for a pestilence or an inundation may be providentially irre- 
 sistible and still not desirable. But government is of divine 
 right, because and so far forth as it is adapted to our natural 
 and fitting wants. These wants are from God ; they indicate 
 the supply which is needed for them ; tliis supply is political 
 government ; this government, then, as it is suited by nature 
 to a demand existing by nature, must be sanctioned by the 
 Author of that nature. He loves to promote our welfare ; 
 our welfare is advanced by the institutions which are fitted 
 to the structure of our minds ; these beneficent institutions, 
 therefore, arc authorized as well as originated by him Avho 
 has incited us to devise, by causing us to demand them. 
 Thus we claim a divine authority for the marriage relation 
 and for the family regimen, because they are not only a re- 
 sult of sensibilities which God has implanted in the soul, but 
 also a means of the happiness and virtue which he has made 
 the end of our being. Desiring this end, he has required these 
 means. The theory that government derives its claims from 
 
18 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 the social compact, is, in the main, a fictitious mode of express- 
 ing the idea tliat government is congenial with our sensibili- 
 ties and interests, and therefore may be presumed to secure 
 a promise of obedience from us, and hence must be pleasing 
 to God, who chooses that we observe the covenants which 
 himself has predisposed us to make. The theory tliat gov- 
 ernment demands our homage on account of its venerable 
 and ancestral associations, resolves itself into the truth, that 
 a reverence for old systems was implanted within us by the 
 Ancient of Days, and he desires that this graceful sentiment 
 be cherished in every form and degree which can harmonize 
 with the paramount law of virtuous progress. In fine, the 
 element of truth existing in all theories of civil government 
 is enveloped in the Christian doctrine, that such government 
 has a divine authority, and this doctrine is essential to the 
 highest influence of those theories. There are masses of 
 men who care little for abstractions. It has been said of 
 them, they " cannot see, but they can feel ; " ^ at least, they 
 do not see so far as to ultimate utilities, nor so far around as 
 to general results. But they love or fear a personal God, who 
 superadds his own sanction to the threatenings of human 
 law, who gives a new sacredness to life as connected with an 
 immortal existence, and to property as a means of spiritual 
 culture ; a new meaning to an oath, a religious value to a 
 ballot, a deep solemnity to an office ; and who invests the 
 very forms of justice with a distinct majesty.'^ Not in an ab- 
 stract way, but by living men, his ministers, has the author- 
 ity of the Great Lawgiver been associated with human juris- 
 prudence. Hence have these ministers been summoned, 
 either by the wisdom or conscience or policy of rulers, to 
 stand forth as the representatives of the divine will in behalf 
 
 1 Harrington's Political Aphorisms. 
 
 2 " Many barbarian tribes, as the Goths, believe their kings to have descended 
 from their divinities and thus to be worthy of especial reverence ; as Homer's 
 heroes were the reputed issue of gods or demigods, and thereby became the objects 
 of religious homage." See Guizot's Hist. European Civilization. \t 22.3. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 19 
 
 of Immaii legislation. They have administered the holy sac- 
 rament to the king as he has assumed the diadem. They 
 have chanted the Te Deum before the army as it has marched 
 forth to the battle-field. In the dignified simplicity of the 
 gospel they have invoked the aid of the Most High on our 
 legislative councils. They have, in various forms, clothed 
 the polity of man with that honor which cometh from noth- 
 ing but an association with the King of kings. ^ 
 
 1 In his speech (pp. 47, 48) on the Girard Will Case, Mr. Webster says : "At 
 the meeting of the tirst Congress there was a doubt in the minds of many about 
 the propriety of opening the session with prayer ; and the reason assigned was, 
 as here, the great diversity of opinion and religious belief: — until at last Mr. 
 Samuel Adams, with his gray hairs hanging about his shoulders, and with an 
 impressive venerableness now seldom to be met with (I suppose, owing to the 
 difference of habits), rose in that assembly, and with the air of a perfect Puritan, 
 said, it did not become men professing to be Christian men, who had come to- 
 gether for solemn deliberation in tlie hour of their extremity, to say that there was 
 so wide a difference in their religious belief that they could not, as one man, bow 
 the knee in ])rayer to the Almighty, whose advice and assistance they hoped to 
 obtain. And independent as he was, and an enemy to all prelacy as he was 
 known to be, he moved that the Rev. Mr. Dushe, of the Episcopal Church, should 
 address the Tin-one of Grace in prayer. And John Adams, in his letter to his 
 ■wife, says that he never saw a more moving spectacle. Mr. Duslie read the Epis- 
 copal service of the Church of England, and then, as if moved by the occasion, he 
 broke out into extemporaneous prayer. And those men who were then about to 
 resort to force to obtain their riglits, were moved to tears ; and floods of tears, he 
 says, ran down the cheeks of the pacific Quakers who formed part of that most 
 interesting assembly." — In the Convention of 1 787, which framed the Constitution 
 of the United States, Dr. Franklin made, and Roger Sherman seconded, the mo- 
 tion, that " henceforth prayers, imploring the assistance of heaven and its blessing 
 on our deliberations, be held in this Assembly every morning." This motion, how- 
 ever, was not made until the 28th of June, when the Convention had been more 
 than four weeks in session, and then " Mr. Hamilton and several others expressed 
 apprehensions, that however proper such a resolution might have been at the be- 
 ginning of the Convention, it might, at this late day, bring on it some disagreea- 
 ble animadversions, etc. Dr. Franklin and Mr. Sherman answered that the past 
 omission of a duty could not justify a further omission, etc. Mr. Williamson 
 observed that the true cause of the omission could not be mistaken. The Con- 
 vention had no funds. Mr. Randolph proposed, in order to give a favorable as- 
 pect to the measure, that a sermon be preached, at the request of the Convention, 
 on the 4th of July, and thenceforward prayers. Dr. Franklin seconded this 
 motion." It was not carried, however, and the original motion of Dr. Franklin 
 was lost by a very decisive vote. It is pleasing to reflect that this omission is an 
 anomaly in our highest legislative proceedings. See Sparks's Life of Franklin, 
 Vols. I., pp. 514, 515, and V., pp. 153 — 155 ; and Mr. Madison's Journal, in loco. 
 
20 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 There are some laws, perhaps, which, unless ennobled bjr 
 this alliance with the religion of the pulpit, would be re- 
 garded as too severe to be sustained. Had not the New Tes- 
 tament unfolded the nature of justice as including in itself 
 the tenderest care for the general peace, there might be a 
 reason for modifying the application of the old command, 
 " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be 
 shed." The executioner would be deterred from pressing 
 the fatal spring, did not the gospel, which wins our love by 
 its mildness, illustrate the benevolence of the penal code, 
 framed not for paining the guilty so much as for relieving 
 the innocent ; not for grieving a small circle of friends, but 
 for securing the comfort and the virtue of an entire nation. 
 Had not the people of our Commonwealth been saved from 
 a one-sided philanthropy by the comprehensive spirit of the 
 New Testament, which utters a more subduing threat as well 
 as a more cheering promise than the Old ; had they not been 
 taught by Him who came to be our pattern of gentleness, 
 that civilization is something higher than a poetic sentimen- 
 talism ; that true compassion reaches beyond the man who 
 has abused his race, and guards also the race from being still 
 further abused ; that religion is the love of right, and there- 
 fore involves the hatred of wrong ; aims to bless men, and 
 therefore frowns on all that injures them ; pities the sordid 
 temper of the criminal, and therefore watches with the kind- 
 lier sympathy over the children and mothers, the timorous 
 and the frail, who tremble by day and by night in fear of that 
 criminal ; had not our fathers been inspired with this conser- 
 vative spirit of Christianity, still permeating otir civil insti- 
 tutions, — we had not seen, and the world had not admired, 
 tlie majestic march of justice through our Commonwealth 
 during the past year ; the manliness and dignity of our 
 judges ; the firm, cautious, and lofty spirit of our councillors, 
 sustaining the law which is made so fearful for the sake of 
 preventing a sin yet more sinful ; listening with parental 
 tenderness to every plea of the sufferer, but hearkening also 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 21 
 
 to the voice of God, as he says, through the instinctive senti- 
 ments of our race, that the penalty which men are so framed 
 as to dread most of all and last of all, is the fit dissuasive 
 from that last and most appalling of crimes, which hardens 
 the heart against all gentler motives.^ 
 
 Clergymen have been accused, some of them justly, but 
 others unjustly, of pressing the claims of government too far, 
 and of degrading themselves into the mere parasites of the 
 men who happen to be in power.^ The more trustworthy 
 divines, however, have not been content with advocating the 
 virtue of allegiance; they have enjoined a second duty, — 
 that of ameliorating the latvs and government of the land. They 
 have recommended this duty in various ways and widely 
 different degrees. 
 
 Breathing the spirit of his office, a clergyman is reluctant 
 to think ill of civil enactments, for they need to be revered. 
 Still he has often aided in correcting, when he has not seen, 
 their faults. His teachings have been more useful than his ob- 
 servation has been exact. When advocating an injurious law, 
 he has enforced principles which resulted in amending it. 
 
 And when his charity which thinketh no evil has been 
 compelled to recognize the mal-administration of lawgivers, 
 he has been slow to condemn them in his public speech ; for 
 it is written, " Thou shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy 
 
 ^ Allusion is here made to the execution of Professor John W. Webster, Au- 
 gust 30, 1850, for the murder of Dr. George Parkman ; and to the steadfastness 
 with which all efforts for the pardon of Prof. Webster were resisted by tlie gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 - Mr. Hume says, Essay IX., in language altogether too unguarded : "All 
 princes tliat have aimed at despotic power, have known of what importance it 
 was to gain the established clergy ; as the clergy, on their part, have shown a 
 great facility in entering into the views of such princes. Gustavus Vasa was, 
 perhaps, the only ambitious monarch that ever dejjressed the church at tiie same 
 time that he discouraged lil)Crty. But the exorbitant power of the bishops in 
 Sweden, who at that time overtopped the crown itself, together with their attach- 
 ment to a foreign family, was the reason of his embracing such an unusual sys- 
 tem of politics." 
 
22 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 people."^ Still, without reproaching he has often benefited 
 them, for he has unfolded a system of divine legislation 
 which, in its gradual working, assimilates the government of 
 earth to that of heaven. Immoral codes have sometimes 
 been submitted to him for revision, as when the laws of the 
 Visigoths were humanized by the Councils of Toledo. 
 
 But when the mal -feasance of rulers passes a certain line, 
 he cannot but speak out. He dreads the influence of corrupt 
 magistrates as preachers of heresy, as men who will nullify 
 the laws which he is commissioned to proclaim. Therefore, 
 if he live under a government susceptible of peaceful 
 changes, he is required to plead for a reform of statutes that 
 miseducate the soul, benumb the conscience, deaden the sen- 
 timent of pity or honor or generosity, and weaken the very 
 basis of government by vitiating the moral principles on 
 which every good government rests. It is sometimes said, 
 that " it is immaterial what civil polity we have, provided 
 that the people are honest and intelligent;" but unless we 
 have the right polity, there is danger that the people will 
 never be honest and intelligent. 
 
 Still, the true pastor is far from sanctioning the rule that 
 every injurious statute be of course disobeyed ; for it may be 
 so compacted with beneficent laws that they will stand or fall 
 with it, and the one unsightly stone of an arch must not be 
 pried out from the other stones which depend upon it for 
 tlieir form and pressure. Neither does he sustain the rule 
 that every government, corrupt on the whole, be disobeyed ; 
 
 ^ Much is said, and wisely, at the present day, against disobedience to rulers. 
 But tlie spirit of unrighteous disobedience to them is fostered by the practice of 
 unwarranted slander against them. A faithful preacher dissuades men from 
 " speaking evil of dignities," as well as from refusing subjection to them ; and 
 when tlie disposition is so rife, as in our land, to calumniate the civil authorities, 
 we must expect the consequent disposition to resist them. The fact that our 
 rulers may not belong to our own party, is no excuse for the desire or the prac- 
 tice of saying more against them than the welfare of tiie State obviously and 
 urgently demands. The careless or unnecessary disparagement of them is one 
 of the worst species of detraction, and has in all ages been condemned by the 
 pulpit. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 23 
 
 for often he has reason to believe that it would be made only 
 the more corrupt by being opposed, and even if overthrown, 
 would give place to a new structure built of the same mate- 
 rials in a worse form. Bad laws and bad rulers are fre- 
 quently less bad than any which would be at once substituted 
 for them ; and while they cannot claim obedience for their 
 own merits, we may be required to yield obedience for our 
 own usefulness. We only confuse ourselves when we imag- 
 ine that obedience to a wrong law must necessarily be, or 
 always is in itself sinful. Although a government has no right 
 to command when we have no right to obey, yet we are often 
 under obligation to obey mandates which the government 
 ought not to have imposed. For resistance to these mandates 
 may not always be necessary in order to avoid sin, and it may 
 moreover be useless, and if useless it is hurtful, and if hurtful 
 it is offensive to our best Friend, for he forbids us to waste our 
 probation in efforts which threaten evil when they do not 
 promise good, and he often gives a divine right to obedience 
 when he gives none to the government obeyed. It is true, 
 however, singular as it may seem, that the interests of men 
 coincide so far with their duty as to make the larger part of 
 human statutes coincident with the law of God, and to make 
 them, therefore, his laws. In agreement with these princi- 
 ples, the preacher has insisted on the general rule, that men 
 obey the law of the land ; not merely that they obey, if tliey 
 deem the law expedient, but that they obey ; not merely if 
 they approve it, but that they approve of obedience to it ; not 
 that they make the wisdom of a particular statute the condi- 
 tion of their compliance with it, but that they believe in the 
 wisdom of their compliance with it so long as it is a statute. 
 The general rule of the " wise man " is to reverence law be- 
 cause it is good, or else to obey it because it is law ; and in 
 such a land as our own, where the legislation is founded on 
 Ciiristian principles, we must presume a statute to be right, 
 unless we have palpable evidence that it is wrong. And 
 even when there is such evidence, the act which the law re- 
 
24 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 quires of us may not be wrong like the law which requires it. 
 This act may be unfortunately so complicated with the affairs 
 of a useful government, that, although it may be injurious to 
 a few individuals, yet the omission of it may compromit the 
 safety of the government, and may thus be still more injuri- 
 ous to a larger number of individuals. This is an outward 
 act, and although the same moral choice must be either good 
 or bad, ever the same, yet many an external deed may vary 
 in its character, become right here and now, although it was 
 wrong there and then. If not commanded, it would be unfit 
 and hurtful, but when it is commanded, it may be less unfit 
 and less hurtful than would be the disobedience to the stat- 
 ute. It is a principle of mere fanaticism, that if an external 
 deed is proper in one relation, therefore it may be performed 
 in all relations ; and if improper in some circumstances, 
 therefore it must be performed in no circumstances, even 
 " though the heavens fall."^ 
 
 But the human mind is like a pendulum swinging from 
 one extreme to the other, and reaching that other because it 
 had been first at the one. It is an extreme view, and there- 
 fore a dangerous view (because an ultraism on one side re- 
 pels into an ultraism on the other, and it is hostile to the 
 genius of the gospel, and of its true ministers, to advocate 
 any, and of course this, extravagance), that. the general rule 
 of conformity to human law will never allow an excep- 
 tion .^ There is a certain line beyond which the minister 
 
 ' The well-known proverbs are: "Fiat justitia; ruat coelum," and "Fiat 
 justitia et pereat mundus." 
 
 2 It is one characteristic of a " wise man," that he knows when and where to 
 make exceptions to a general rule. By forcing the rule of obedience so far as to 
 shut out the rightfulness of any exception whatever, we prejudice men against the 
 rule ; while, on the contrary, by making exceptions too easy and too numerous, 
 and by undervaluing the strong antecedent presumptions in favor of the existing 
 law, we drive men into the opposite extreme of denying the rightfulness of any 
 exception whatever. " If there be a danger on the one hand," says Dr. Camp- 
 bell, "of tying the knot of allegiance which binds the subject to tlie sovereign 
 too hard, there is'no less danger on the other of making it too loose." Many cler- 
 gymen of England, receiving too much aid from Usher, Sanderson, Ken, South, 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 25 
 
 who represents the gospel cannot, and for the good of the 
 State should not pass, in defending the active compliance with 
 law. He has long insisted on the distinction between active 
 and passive obedience, and between disobedience to the pre- 
 ceptive part of law and resistance to the retributive part of 
 it.' While he has dissuaded men from rebelling against an 
 unworthy statute, he has, in some rare instances, counselled 
 their quietly submitting to its sanctions as a less serious evil 
 than their performing its requisitions. The wise preacher 
 has given this counsel when, and only when, the statute has 
 required citizens to violate the clear decisions of a well- 
 trained conscience and the plain will of God : the clear de- 
 cisions of conscience, for this faculty leads us to infer that if 
 there be any doubt, the government is ordained of Heaven to 
 have the benefit of that doubt ; the decisions of a ivell-trained 
 conscience, for this is a faculty which decides aright, only 
 when treated aright, when carefully enlightened, when free 
 from the sinister influence of passion, when combined with an 
 earnest desire and all possible efforts to learn the good way ; 
 the plain will of God, for he wills us to act on the presump- 
 tion that human laws are just, and that they are his ordman- 
 ces, unless it be obvious that they violate other ordinances 
 
 and Berkeley, have contended that the (jeneral mle of obedience is also a univeral 
 one. Some of these divines have, as Mr. Macaulay says, " delighted to exhibit 
 the doctrines of non-resistance in a form so exaggerated as to shock common 
 sense and humanity." But nearly all the British divines on whose judgment our 
 countrymen are most apt to rely, have sustained the old doctrine of the Church 
 Fathers, that the general rule of obedience is to be urged strenuously, but still 
 not so blindly as to exclude all exceptions. This has been the doctrine of Jewell, 
 Hooker, Bilson, Bedell, Burnet, Jeremy Taylor, Chillingworth, Hoadley, King, 
 Conybeare, Paley ; — of nearly all the dissenting, and also the Scottish theo- 
 logians. It has also been the doctrine of standard jurists. " Upon these two 
 foundations, the law of nature and the law of revelation, depend all human laws ; 
 for being coeval with mankind, and dictated by God himself, they are of course 
 superior in obligation to any other, and are binding all over the globe, in all 
 countries and all times ; no human laws, therefore, are of any validity if contrary 
 to these ; and such of them as are valid derive all their force and all their author- 
 ity, mediately or immediately, from this original." — Ixiw Grammar, Chap. II. § 3. 
 ' Aliud est non parere quam resistere. — Bezn. 
 
26 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 which are more obviously and imperatively his. Men who 
 seek to be instructed by him will be guided into a knowledge 
 of his statutes, and will cleave to them, whether they do or 
 do not sanction the statutes of men. Such is the consistent 
 pastor's faith in the divine providence, that he believes it 
 salutary, as well as proper, to illustrate the wrongfulness of 
 an evidently immoral and demoralizing law by a specimen of 
 its grievous results, and he doubts not that a prudent Legis- 
 lature will reform such an enactment rather than multiply 
 fines and pains upon the very men whose moral principles 
 are at once the richest treasure and the best preservative of 
 the State, and who honor the law in general by patiently en- 
 during the penalties which ought never to have been threat- 
 ened. The divine has aimed to be, and has been, a patriot 
 in allowing no expectation that he would advocate a policy 
 which must displease the Author of all national blessings, 
 and must undermine the prosperity by impairing the virtue 
 of the people. His hope has been to raise the tone of morals 
 both in the high and low places of the land, by teaching that 
 we are subjects of Jehovah before, and while, and after we 
 are under the dominion of men, and therefore the plain laws 
 of heaven bind us more thoroughly and deeply than any en- 
 actments which may contravene them ; for they bind us in 
 the motive as well as in the deed, by a regard for the soul as 
 well as the body, for time and forever. When the prophets 
 and apostles chose, at the expense of life and liberty, to obey 
 God rather than man ; when the martyrs of the ancient 
 church welcomed their pains as a reward for not abandoning 
 their rights of worship ; when the Reformers of Germany, the 
 Huguenot clergy of France, the Covenanting divines of Scot- 
 land, the Protestant bishops and Puritan ministers of England, 
 took joyfully the spoiling of their goods as a recompense for 
 not transgressing the decisive mandates of Heaven, and not 
 yielding a principle which they knew, and we all know, that 
 God required them to maintain, — they were not rebels nor 
 revolutionists ; they did not love their country less as it was, 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 27 
 
 but more as through their example it was to be ; they offered 
 their treasure and their blood as a sacrifice, not for their own 
 land alone, but also for the world, in their time and in all 
 time. And we, above all men, see and feel the results of their 
 patriotism ; and if we, who are free-born through their influ- 
 ence, are ready to charge the noble army of martyrs, whose 
 very names are hallowed by our prayers, with sedition and 
 treason and insurrection, then we are ready to exhume their 
 bones and scatter their ashes to the winds. 
 
 If a deputy should enjoin what was not permitted by the 
 magistrate who deputed him, or if a magistrate should order 
 what was not allowed by the province which appointed him, 
 or if that province should command what the National Gov- 
 ernment had forbidden, or if the National Government should 
 enact what the Constitution had prohibited, or if the Consti- 
 tution should require what is expressly interdicted by Jeho- 
 vah, in every such case of conflicting laws, the true interests 
 of a State forbid that the higher injunctions be contravened 
 for the sake of compliance with the lower'^ The general 
 truth is that the higher sustain the lower, and the command 
 of obedience to the lower presupposes that they will demand 
 no transgression of the higher ; and when this supposition 
 fails, the maxim of Ben Sirach is to be applied, " Let not 
 the reverence for any man cause thee to sin." The Christian 
 divine urges upon citizens the apostolic rule, " Submit your- 
 selves to every ordinance of man for the Lord's sake." So he 
 urges upon children the rule, " Obey your parents in all 
 things." So he urges upon servants the rule, " Obey in all 
 things your masters." ^ In the same revealed sentence which 
 
 1 " A constable may a thousand times more excusably pretend authority against 
 the king, or independent of him, than a king can claim authoritj' against God, or 
 independent of him." — Richard Baxter's Holy Commomvealth. " Obedience to- 
 man's laws is not necessary, when the matter is forbidden us by God's laws, or 
 when they are laws without power, that is, such as men have no authority to 
 make." — Baxter's End of Contronrsy , p. 286. 
 
 * " Yet I believe no Christian will urge, that there would ho an obligation to 
 obedience from this precept, should a parent coinnKuul !iis child, or a master 
 
28 1EE INDEBTEDNESS Cl. 
 
 contains the injunction to obey magistrates, is another in- 
 junction to " speak evil of no man." But the wise preacher 
 saves his hearers from fanaticism by proving, that many 
 inspired mandates are expressed in general terms, so as to 
 devolve on man the duty of affixing the requisite limitations. 
 They often exact a service in unqualified language, so that 
 they may exercise and improve the moral judgment of man in 
 defining the extent of the service. He who aims to guide 
 himself by the general spirit of Christianity, will receive 
 wisdom enough to modify the commands which were not 
 designed for being pressed to the letter. A consistent theolo- 
 gian, believing in the divine right of rulers, cannot believe 
 in their "right divine of doing wrong." They forfeit their 
 heavenly claim so far forth as they plainly transgress the will 
 of Heaven. " The powers that be are ordained of God," says 
 the first preacher to the Gentiles, "/or rulers are not a terror 
 to good works, but to the evil." Not in all particulars, then, 
 but in those particulars in which these powers become a ter- 
 ror, not to evil works, but to good, the reason for the divinity 
 of their government fails. Tbey have a divine right when 
 they do no wrong, but have no right at all to require a sinful 
 compliance. The heavenly signet of their office bears the in- 
 scription, "/or [the ruler] is a minister of God to thee for 
 good," /or he is " a revenger to execute wrath upon him that 
 
 command his servant fo steal." " Our Lord has given us this express prohibition, 
 Resist not eml, and that without any restriction whatever. Yet if this were to be 
 understood by Christians as admitting no exception, it would, among them, 
 abolish magistracy 'itself. For what is magistracy but, if I may be allowed the 
 expression, a bulwark erected for the defence of the society, and consequently for 
 the purpose of resisting evil ? " These remarks are from a sermon of Dr. George 
 Campbell, "preached at Aberdeen, Dec. 12, 1776, being the Fast Day appointed 
 by the King on account of the Rebellion in America." This celebrated critic 
 stigmatizes the " ringleaders of the American Revolt, the members of their Con- 
 gress," as inconsiderate and dishonest men, deserving both pity and blame ; but 
 still contends " that no man is bound to yield an active obedience to a human law, 
 whicli, either from the light of nature or from revelation, he is persuaded to be 
 contrary to the divine law." Sec CampbeU's Dissertation, Sermons and Tracts, 
 Vol. II., pp. 130—154. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 29 
 
 doeth evil : wherefore ye must needs be subject, not only for 
 wrath, but also for conscience' sake." But this ruler loses 
 his divine signet and the divinity of his office, not in all re- 
 spects, but to the extent in which he becomes the minister of 
 evil instead of good ; and in which men cannot obey, either 
 for conscience' sake, because an enlightened conscience re- 
 quires them to obey an opposite command of Heaven ; or for 
 wrath's sake, because they will endure a sorer punishment 
 for disobeying God in compliance with a human law, than for 
 obeying him in opposition to it. 
 
 But there is another line, still more remote and still more 
 fearful, where the wise minister ceases to recommend even 
 passive obedience, and advocates a forcible opposition to the 
 government which has abused its trust. In these extreme 
 cases, when forcible resistance is a smaller evil than the tyr- 
 anny otherwise endured ; when it is the necessary and the 
 only means of avoiding an oppression too grievous to be 
 borne ; when it, and it alone, promises to be successful in se- 
 curing the rights of the citizen, whenever submission to ty- 
 rants is evidently treason against God, — then the represen- 
 tative of the gospel has served the State by encouraging its 
 patriots in a revolution. If the stone should cry out of the 
 wall, and the beam out of the timber should answer it, they 
 would tell of many a Sabbath appeal with which this sanctuary ^ 
 once resounded in favor of our fathers struggling to escape 
 from bondage. On the sixth of December, seventeen hun- 
 dred and seventy-four, our Provincial Congress addressed a 
 circular letter to every clergyman in the colony, for the pur- 
 pose of securing the influence of his office against the en- 
 croachments of the royal power. ^ Our Revolutionary gQn- 
 
 ' Old South Mccting-housc. 
 
 "^ The following is the letter, as found in Dr. Gordon's History of the American 
 Revolution, Vol. I. pp. 417, 418 : " Rev. Sir, — We cannot hut acknowledge the 
 goodness of Heaven, in constantly supplying us with preachers of the gospel, whose 
 concern has been the temporal and spiritual happiness of this people. In a day 
 like this, when all the friends of civil and religious liberty are exerting themselves to 
 
30 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 erals often entreated his aid. He welcomed the rising army, 
 blessed them as they girded on their weapons of defence, em- 
 boldened them with the thought, which always stirs the soul 
 like a trumpet, that they were in a religious war, and fought, 
 like the Jews of old, for their altars, and the God of the armies 
 of Israel would go before them in a pillar of cloud by day 
 and of fire by night ; and it is rational to suppose that if the 
 frequent prayer of tlie sanctuary had not been sent up to 
 heaven in behalf of our forlorn troops, they had fainted under 
 the prolonged severity of their contest. 
 
 But the solemn question arises, Who shall judge whether a 
 law be so extremely injurious as to be fitly unobeyed in its 
 precept, or even resisted in its sanctions ? Who shall deter- 
 mine when a statute has passed that line of abuse beyond 
 which it cannot be complied with, safely and rightly ? This 
 inquiry has various meanings. Is it asked whether every 
 citizen may examine the merits of a law ? A State — above 
 all, a Republic — is a school for this invigorating study. Is 
 it inquired whether every citizen may judge of a law, as if 
 he were no less competent to do so than the civil autliorities ? 
 He should feel an habitual deference toward them ; the pulpit 
 admonishes him to be modest and reverent ; but in deciding 
 to obey them against his previous judgment, he does and 
 must decide for himself. Is it asked whether every citizen, 
 may pronounce sentence against a law, without consulting 
 the wise and good of the past or present times ? He should 
 
 deliver this country from its present calamities, we cannot but place great hopes 
 in an order of men wiio have ever distinguished themselves in theu' country's 
 cause ; and do therefore recommend to the ministers of the gospel, in the several 
 towns and other places in this colony, that they assist us in avoiding that dread- 
 ful slavery with which we are now threatened." It was natural that the people who 
 had long revered John Cotton and Thomas Hooker, as fathers to the State as well 
 as the Church, should in the times of the Revolution look up to the clergy as not 
 onlv spiritual but also political advisers. The influence of such divines as May- 
 hew, Cooper, and Witherspoon, of the Election preachers of Massachusetts, is 
 noticed in Gordon's History, Vol. I. pp. 418—420 ; Graharae's Colonial History, 
 Vol. II. pp. 394, 412, 419, 445, 463. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 81 
 
 humbly reverence their decision, but in yielding to it and 
 obeying the law on account of it and against his previous 
 judgment, he does and must decide for himself. Is it asked, 
 whether a citizen may disobey any law without solemn and 
 pious meditation ? He must take a large and broad view of 
 disobedience in all its extended results, many of them so dis- 
 astrous, and he is a rash man if he dare to disobey until he 
 has learned wisdom from communing with the great Ruler. 
 Shall a man judge hastily ? No. Shall he judge in a pas- 
 sion ? No. Shall he follow a perverted conscience ? He 
 should not have a perverted conscience which he can follow. 
 He should have no conscience but a good one, one that is fit 
 to be followed, and one that is worthy to punish him if he do 
 not follow it. He was made so that he may have, and he 
 ought to have, and not only to have but also to obey, this 
 accurate conscience. Of course he ought to do what, at the 
 time of his deed, after having adopted all possible means of 
 learning his duty, he thinks to be right, or else what he 
 thinks to be wrong ; and to affirm that a man ought to do 
 what, at the time of doing it, he thinks to be wrong, is a sole- 
 cism in morals.^ Is it then inquired whether in the last re- 
 sort every citizen must judge of his political duty ? He must 
 judge ofit, provided that he is to be judged for it at the last 
 day. He must decide for himself, unless some magistrate is 
 to stand as a days-man between him and the King of kings at 
 the dread account. A man must determine for himself his 
 religious faith, with a view of its everlasting consequences, and 
 he is also summoned to determine his political conduct with a 
 view of life or death, honor or infamy, as its result. This is 
 the condition of our free agency. Herein is the dignity and 
 
 ^ The patriots of our land have been trained to a high reverence for their 
 moral faculty. John Adams, writing to his son John Quincy Adams, at St. 
 Petersburg, in 1782, says : " Your conscience is the minister plenipotentiary of 
 Grod Almighty in your breast. See to it that this minister never negotiates in 
 vain. Attend to him in opposition to all the courts in the world." — Letters of 
 Mrs. Adams, p. 427, 4th edition. 
 
32 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 grandeur of the soul. Here is the solemnity of a life on which 
 depends the life to come ; and here do we find a new and a 
 prominent reason why the God of nations has appointed a class 
 of ethical advisers who may, with his help, train men to make 
 and to keep their conscience pure, to educate it, to rectify it, 
 to preserve it as a safe guide, to obey it when it is, as it always 
 may and should be thus safe, to cherish that spirit which has 
 the promise of leading men into the truth, to suspect their own 
 decision when opposed to that of their lawgivers, to judge of 
 " the powers that be" with a devout and humble temper, and 
 never to venture on disobedience to them save in the last and 
 most dismal emergency ; to give up for them everything which 
 does not forfeit the favor of Him whose favor is life to the 
 nation, and " if it be possible, as much as lieth in them, to 
 live peaceably with all men," and above all with those men 
 who bear the sword not in vain. 
 
 But is there not peril in these private decisions? Peril! 
 Where is there not peril on this earth, spread all over with 
 snares and pitfalls, as the signs and results of transgression ? 
 Peril ! If we take the wings of the morning, and fly any- 
 where within the confines of probation, we shall find peril. 
 He who made us meant to try us, and danger is our trial. 
 There is danger in enslaving the conscience. There is dan- 
 ger in subduing men into peace by benumbing the vitality of 
 their individual judgment. A State will never thrive by 
 counselling its citizens to undervalue their moral nature, to 
 brave as womanish their fears of sinning, to become patriotic 
 by becoming indifferent to their conscientious scruples, ta 
 sacrifice a general to a mere incidental expediency. A polit- 
 ical party will sooner or later lose its dominion, unless it as- 
 sociate with itself the religious sentiment of the people. For, 
 while the interests of men vary, and favor now this party and 
 then another, the religious sentiment holds on and holds out, 
 oscillating sometimes like the needle, but sure to come back 
 again at last, and point to the star which lingers over the 
 abode of justice and of truth. In certain individuals this 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 33 
 
 sentiment is diseased. There is danger here as well as else- 
 where, and indeed everywhere. A morbid conscientiousness 
 makes good men discern evils which do not exist. There is 
 danger that men mistake a diseased imagination for a moral 
 sense ; and it was well said by Napoleon Buonaparte, that 
 there is no class of men so difficult to be managed in a State 
 as those whose intentions are honest, but whose consciences 
 are bewitched.' And, when the religious sentiment becomes 
 fanatical, you cannot repress it by threatening. It laughs at 
 the shaking of a spear. You cannot silence it by mere cal- 
 culations of expediency. You might as well put a bridle on 
 the north wind as forcibly bridle the tongue of either man or 
 woman who is goaded on by a conscience made too sharp in 
 its friction against common sense. This irritated feeling is 
 calmed quietly, if at all ; by gentle appliances, if by any ; and 
 these are the appliances of the gospel. And here, again, we 
 see a reason, and a good and a great reason, why the minis- 
 ters of this gospel are needed by the State ; for their business 
 is to assuage a false zeal by a true one, to call up one religi- 
 ous sentiment which may modify another, to qualify fervor 
 by Christian prudence, to restore the equilibrium of the feel- 
 ings, to intreat the aid of Him who maketh his children wise, 
 and thus to prevent men from being martyrs by mistake, and 
 from making imprisonment the conclusion of the syllogism of 
 which ignorance and fanaticism are the major and the minor 
 premises. And there is one sentiment, which is a religious 
 one, and which the minister may often evoke for the allay- 
 ing of unwholesome excitements against the law. 
 
 I therefore remark, that a third political virtue which the 
 pastor favors is a love of country. The names of Luther and 
 Melancthon give to the Saxon and the Prussian a new inter- 
 
 1 "No Buch instruraont to carry on a refined and well-woven rebellion as a 
 tender conscience and a sturdy heart. He who rebels conscientiously, rebels 
 heartily." — Dr. South. 
 
34 THE INDEBTEDNESS OF 
 
 est in their father-land. Her Bossuets and Fenelons brighten 
 the glory of France to the eye of her citizens, and the Lati- 
 mers and Jeremy Taylors of England invest with a singular 
 charm their old homes and mother tongue. It is natural 
 that the fondness of parishioners for their minister should 
 diffuse itself so far as to embrace the country which he loves 
 and serves. The nature of his office is peculiarly congenial 
 with our republican institutions. Even when it was most 
 perverted, and when other high functions lay under an he- 
 reditary caste, this office remained open to all, and was the 
 only avenue of the poor to places of influence and trust. So 
 the duties of the office are eminently republican.^ Scholars 
 and civilians have longed in vain to hear the eloquent conver- 
 sation of Robert Hall ; but the framework-knitters of Leices- 
 tershire were sought out by him, and were comforted by the 
 words which would have been written in the books of more 
 learned hearers. Philosophers have made a pilgrimage to 
 Berlin for an interview with Schleiermacher, and have found 
 him conversing with the children of peasants in the streets. 
 One aim of the Christian ministry is to develop the impor- 
 tance of every individual soul, to give a consciousness of their 
 own worth to the lower classes, to bring together both the rich 
 and the poor before the Maker of them all, and thus to pre- 
 vent the evils, if not the existence, of pauperism. Just such 
 is the genius of our republican institutions. A wfise clergy- 
 man — but every clergyman is not wise — will love a repub- 
 lic, for it stimulates the mind to an enterprise which will one 
 day become a Christian zeal. Its citizens are not joyous, nor 
 so contented, even, as are many subjects of a monarch, but 
 they are trained to think more, to know more, to possess 
 more of character, of real manhood. Hereby are they fitted 
 
 1 " They demand that the minister be of no particular caste, but that he be a 
 bond of union between all castes ; that he be neither a patrician solely, nor a 
 plebeian solely, but that he move from the palace to the cottage, and from the 
 cottage to the palace, as a man who is at home wherever he can commune with a 
 human souL" — Chalmers' Life. Vol. II. p. 550. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 86 
 
 to love more, to be more vigorous philanthropists, to be more 
 capacious of godly thoughts, to have more of that individual- 
 ity which is the basis of rich spiritual gifts.^ A wise minister 
 will love this republic, for Cliristian sympathies gave the first 
 impulse to it,^ and it is in its spirit a humane, considerate, 
 and Christian republic, and it has been, is now, and — he 
 trusts in God — is long to be, an asylum for the persecuted 
 church. It is the habit of his religion to take the form of 
 patriotism. His professional style does not allow him to say 
 so much as others of our " eagle, stars and stripes, the beat 
 of our drum, and the thunder of our cannon," but he feels 
 inspired by their influence so far forth as they are expressions 
 of a self-respect which may add to the dignity of Christian 
 freemen. The pulpit is no place for him to boast of our 
 shores bounding either ocean ; still, his heart is expanded 
 by the thought of them, as of lines of light which are to 
 illumine the East and the West, Africa and Japan. He ex- 
 pects to dig for no treasures along the Sacramento, for he is, 
 and is to be, a " poor wise man ; " but he has a faith that the 
 pillars of learned schools are yet to be laid in these mines 
 opened by human science, and that in tliese schools religion 
 is yet to sit enthroned, and " girded round about with a 
 golden girdle." His pious sympatliies are bound up with the 
 union of our States ; for in that union are blended the inter- 
 
 1 In a recent lecture of the Earl of Carlisle (Lord Morpeth), he says of our 
 countrymen : " One of their able public men made an observation to me which 
 struck me as pungent, and perhaps true, that [theirs is] probably the country in 
 which there is less misery and less happiness than in any other of the world." 
 But in no other country is there so much of tact, shrewdness, common sense, 
 energy, and consequent capability of exploits. This is not the world for happi- 
 ness, but for exertion ; and therefore a philanthropist who sees the need of enter- 
 prise and toil for the moral education of the race, must feel a peculiar interest in 
 a country which, like our own, trains men for high efforts. 
 
 * John Cotton has been called the founder of Massachusetts ; Thomas Hooker, 
 the founder of Connecticut ; Roger Williams, the founder of Rhode Island, etc. 
 Our own clergymen, too, — Hopkins, Mills, Finley, Ashmun, — gave the first im- 
 pulse to the Republic of Liberia. Other American preachers have planted and 
 are still planting the germs of other Republics. 
 
do THE INDEBTEDNESS OP 
 
 ests of free thought and free speech. While he loves his 
 country he is not unmindful of its sins, and in laboring to 
 purify it from evil he gains a clearer view of its capabilities 
 for good. He loves it for these capabilities. He loves it 
 because its place in the geography of the world and in the 
 history of the world gives it an influence over the eastern 
 and the western nations, over the old dynasties and the new 
 republics. Never does he inscribe on his banner : " Our 
 country right or wrong," but his motto is : " Our country for 
 the right, and against the wrong." He remembers the 
 apostle who, while rebuking his fellow Israelites, breathed 
 the self-denying spirit of a patriot, saying : " I could wish 
 that myself were anathema from Christ for my brethren — 
 whose are the fathers.'''' To the earlier ministers of the gos- 
 pel the spirit of true patriotism was commended by him who 
 having been condemned to suffer in Jerusalem charged his 
 disciples to perform their work of love " among all nations, 
 beginning at Jerusalem." ^ 
 
 IV. The State is indebted to. the clergy for their efforts in 
 promoting Christian benevolence. Such benevolence is some- 
 thing more and higher than the religious sentiment and the 
 natural virtues. It quickens, regulates, beautifies, hallows 
 them. It involves a holy love of self, relatives, friends, stran- 
 gers, enemies ; of one's country, one's race, the world ; of all 
 in fit proportion to each other, of God more than all ; of all in 
 their relation, their due subordination to God. The life of 
 many a pastor who cannot calculate on living for two years in 
 his own hired house, but is sent from town to town by the 
 
 1 For testimonies to the good influence of clergymen in the early days of our 
 republic, see the Address of President Washington to the Synod of the Reformed 
 Dutch Church of North America. He quotes and endorses the expression of the 
 Synod, that "while just government protects all in their religious rights, true 
 religion affords to government its surest support."— Sparks's Writings of Wash- 
 ington, Vol. XII. VV- 1^7, 405. See also the Letter to Washinffton from General 
 Lincoln acknowledging the jrood and "very great influence of the clergy." — 
 Sparks's Washington, Vol. IX. p. 330. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLEKGY. 37 
 
 caprice of fickle majorities, and who, without any certain 
 dwelling-place for himself, submits to the expectation of 
 leaving his widow and orphan children homeless and penni- 
 less, and who still perseveres in storing his mind with good 
 thoughts that he may comfort the sick and sorrowing, is 
 an example of this benevolence. Often, at least, he was 
 prompted by this virtue to enter an office conventionally 
 excluding him from some recreations which add vigor to 
 other men, and wasting his health by a continuous and pecu- 
 liar tax on his sensibilities ; an office, in preparing for which 
 he has anticipated the meagre and ill-paid income ^ so need- 
 ful for the supply of his intellectual wan-ts, and in prosecut- 
 ing which he is often humbled by the deprivation of even the 
 conveniences of life ; and still he magnifies this office by the 
 cheerful discharge of its philanthropic duties. It is the dif- 
 fusive influence of this virtue that exalteth a nation. The 
 Germans gained the means of their mental supremacy from 
 Saint Boniface, when he carried to them the gospel of love. 
 We may trace the preeminence of our Anglo-Saxon fathers 
 to the mission of Saint Austin, who commended to them that 
 godliness which is profitable unto all things. Designing to 
 speak with a sneer, men have denominated the clergy a 
 " spiritual police," '^ employed for preventing the crimes 
 
 1 A small salary would be a less inadequate recompense for the labor of clergy- 
 men, if the customs of society and their own mental tendencies allowed them 
 to employ those economical expedients which are proper for men of a less 
 spiritual vocation. "We have took," says Dr. South, "all ways to affright 
 and discourage scholars from looking towards this sacred calling; for will men 
 lay out their wit and judgment upon that employment for the undertaking of 
 which both will be questioned ? " — Sermon on 1 Kings 13 : 33, 34. One of the 
 modern Romish fathers, earning his daily bread by teaching the Oriental lan- 
 guages and working as a compositor in a printing-office, had for his motto : 
 "Tribulations are my distinction, and poverty my glory." A clergyman who 
 has a world-wide reputation remarked in his extreme old age : " If I live three 
 years longer I shall not have enough property left to pay for my coffin." But 
 he had preached so often against the love of filthy lucre that he was not suspected 
 of feeling an acute pain in view of his penniless old age. 
 
 * A similar title has been sometimes given to them, without any intention of 
 
38 THE INDEBTEDNESS OP 
 
 which the civil police would punish with carnal weapons. 
 But in the sneer lies a pleasant truth. Degrading as the 
 phrase may seem, true religion has an economical value. It 
 was given for the State as well as for individuals, and in the 
 reciprocity of benfits the State was by its first Author de- 
 signed for religion. Men have organized civil society with a 
 primary intent of securing physical good, as, for example, 
 " undisturbed rest within unbarred doors." But sleep is not 
 the final good ; it is a mere preparative for another and 
 higher good. Men have formed the State with an immedi- 
 ate aim to cultivate the mind ; but an active intellect is a 
 means to an end, and is less noble than the end. Meyi have 
 devised the State with a primary design of augmenting their 
 social pleasures ; but He who made the State necessary for 
 these pleasures, contrived them as the allurements to that 
 love which is the fulfilling of the law. Tlie State was insti- 
 tuted by men with the direct purpose of multiplying tlie arts 
 of life and increasing the facilities of commerce ; but the 
 finest of the arts have their chief value as persuasives to the 
 beauty of holiness, and commerce was designed of Heaven to 
 encourage the circumnavigations of charity ; for what shall it 
 profit a man if he gain the whole world and have none of 
 that benevolence which is the life of the soul ? Some of our 
 fathers erred in supposing that political government was in- 
 tended to be the servitor of a specified Visible church.' No 
 visible church is pure enough to receive such a service. 
 None is strong enough to retain its benevolence which in- 
 volves its meekness, when it looks upon the State as its hand- 
 maid. We must confess the humiliating fact, that tlie only 
 
 nndervaluing their office. In the Prussian laws they are called Stncits-heamten. 
 Dr. Inglis calls the clergy a " moral constabulary." " If there was not a minis- 
 ter in every parish," says Dr. South, on 1 Kings 13 : 33, 34, " you would quickly 
 find cause to increase the niimber of constables ; and if the churches were not 
 employed to be places to iiear God's law, there would be need of them to be 
 prisons for the breakers of the laws of men." 
 
 1 See a Discourse about Civil Government in a Plantation whose Design is 
 Religion ; by Jolin Cotton, 16G3. 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 39 
 
 church fit to be thus honored by rulers is the Invisible. The 
 clergy lose their official life when they find it amid the hon- 
 ors of State patronage. Such honors inflame their ambition 
 or their envy ; and clerical ambition and clerical envy, taking 
 hold of the eternal world and refining themselves with the 
 truth, which, even when perverted, is instinct with power, 
 consume the best sympathies of the soul, and burn to the 
 lowest depths. The pride of the fv^orld is superficial, when 
 compared with that of a priesthood, flattered with the temp- 
 tation of wielding the strong arm of a civil government in 
 the enforcement of their own creed. The human soul is too 
 weak to bear a union of the temporal with the spiritual au- 
 thority. But there is a purer church, invisible, composed of 
 all men of all sects who love Jehovah with the whole soul 
 and their neighbors as themselves, who love their country 
 because it belongeth to him, and love him the more because 
 among other and richer gifts he has given them such a coun- 
 try, who obey magistrates " for the Lord's sake," and wor- 
 ship the Lord in sustaining the " ordinances of man," who 
 have that benevolence which comprehends in itself all that is 
 most amiable in character, and on which hang all the law and 
 the prophets. Now, it is to enlarge the number and to aug- 
 ment the excellence of such men, that he who doeth all things 
 for eternity hath ordained the State. And it is with the same 
 loving aim that he hath also ordained the ministers of the 
 church. These ministers, then,- serve the State in fulfilling 
 its last and noblest destiny, and " they shall bring the glory 
 and honor of the nations into"^ the kingdom of heaven; 
 while the State aids the ministers in permitting them to 
 think what they please and to preach what they think. The 
 clergy favor the Commonwealth by confining themselves to 
 their rightful sphere and pleading the cause of virtue, while 
 the Commonwealth favors the clergy by confining itself to its 
 own department, and securing to all citizens that mental and 
 moral liberty which is a means of spiritual discipline. The 
 
 ' Hey •*! : 26. 
 
40 THE INDEBTEDNESS OP 
 
 government provides a system of elementary instruction for 
 the people, and thus furnishes worthy minds for the influ- 
 ence of the pulpit ; while in their turn the clergy hallow the 
 government as the Lord's anointed, and foster those habits 
 of pious allegiance which are the protection of even the law 
 itself. The servants of the State cut the cedar trees and the 
 fir trees and the algum trees out of Lebanon, and with such 
 materials the servants of the church build the temple, with- 
 out the sound of a hammer or axe or any tool of iron, and in 
 that temple offer the prayers of the people for all who are 
 iu authority. 
 
 NOTE TO PAGES 6-14. 
 
 The conclusion of this discourse as originally delivered is here 
 omitted. It consisted of Addresses to (1) the Governor, (2) the 
 Lieutenant Governor, (3) the Council and Legislature (see Preface, 
 p. 1). In the place of these Addresses the following remarks are 
 inserted on the direct and indirect influence of the clergy in educat- 
 ing the people. 
 
 The direct influence of British divines on the higher education of 
 their land may be recognized in many facts not mentioned in the 
 preceding pages. In his "Law Studies," §§153, 154, 160, Mr. 
 Warren recommends to young barristers the vpritiugs of William 
 Chilliugworth, and says : " Chillingworth is the writer, whose works 
 are recommended for the exercitations of the student. Lord Mans- 
 field, than whom there could not be a more competent authority, 
 pronounced him to be a perfect model of argumentation. Arch- 
 bishop Tillotson calls him ' incomparable, the glory of his age and 
 nation.' Locke proposes ' for the attainment of right reasoning the 
 constant reading of Chillingworth ; who by his example,' he adds, 
 ' will teach both perspicuity and the way of nght reasoning, better 
 than any book that I know ; and therefore will deserve to be read 
 upon that account over and over again ; not to say anything of his 
 arguments.' Lord Clarendon, also, who was particularly intimate 
 with him, thus celebrates his rare talents as a disputant : ' Mr. Chil- 
 lingworth was a man of so great subtilty of understanding, and of so 
 rare a temper in debate, that as it was impossible to provoke him into 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 41 
 
 any passion, so it was very difficult to keep a man's self from being 
 a little discomposed by his sharpness and quickness of argument and 
 instances, in which he had a rare facility and a great advantac^e over 
 all the men I ever knew. He had spent all his younger time in dis- 
 putation ; and had arrived at so great a mastery, as he was inferior 
 to no man in these skirmishes.' — ' Chillingworth has been named, for 
 the reasons above assigned, as eminently calculated to subserve the 
 purposes of mental discipline for the student. He need not, how- 
 ever, be the only one. The subtile and profound reasonings of 
 Bishop Butler, the pellucid writings of Paley, the simplicity, 
 strength, and perspicuity of Tillotson, may all be advantageously 
 resorted to by the student anxious about the cultivation of his 
 reasoning faculties.'" 
 
 The influence of a preacher on the popular vocabulary is often 
 overlooked, and is not always the same ; but he often virtually 
 stands at the parish gate, to let in one book and keep out another ; 
 to admit certain words and to exclude certain phrases, and to intro- 
 duce or discard barbarisms, solecisms, impropriety and looseness of 
 speech. The sermons of Leighton, South, Howe, Bates, Atterbury, 
 and Paley show somewhat of the extent to which the literature of 
 England is indebted to her priesthood. When Lord Chatham was 
 asked the secret of his dignified and eloquent style, he replied that 
 he had read twice from beginning to end Bayley's Dictionary, 
 and had perused some of Dr. Barrow's sermons so often that he had 
 learned them by heart. Other statesmen have made a similar remark 
 in regard to the " unfair " preacher. Dryden " attributed his own 
 accurate knowledge of prose writing to the frequent perusal of Til- 
 lotson's works." " Addison regarded them as the chief standard of 
 our language, and actually projected an English dictionary to be 
 illustrated with particular phi-ases to be selected from Tillotsou's 
 sermons." '' There is a living writer," said Dugald Stewart, " who 
 combines the beauties of Johnson, Addison, and Burke without their 
 imperfections. It is a dissenting minister of Cambridge, the Kev. 
 Robert Hall. Whoever wishes to see the English language in its 
 perfection, must read his writings." No one can be familiar with 
 the style of Jeremy Taylor and that of several British essayists, 
 without recognizing his influence upon them. The tincture of his 
 phraseology is discernible in the expressions of Charles Lamb even. 
 The character of Herbert's writings is stamped upon those of Izaak 
 
42 THE INDEBTEDNESS OP 
 
 Walton, and the insinuating power of Walton upon the English lan- 
 guage has not been, nor will it be, inconsiderable. 
 
 Similar in kind are many statements which may be made in regard 
 to American divines. A late professor in one of our universities, 
 who has been famed throughout the land for his effective eloquence 
 at the bar, and on the floor of Congress, says that he first learned 
 how to reason while hearing the sermons of a New England pastor, 
 who began to preach before he had studied a single treatise on style 
 or speaking ; and two or three erudite jurists, who dislike the theo- 
 logical opinions of this divine, have recommended his sermons to 
 law students as models of logical argument and affording a kind of 
 gymnastic exercise of the mind. Judge Sedgwick, Judge Story, 
 Judge Shaw, Judge Metcalf, and other New England jurists, have 
 acknowledged their intellectual indebtedness to the sermons which 
 they heard in their early days. It is said that those sermons were 
 often above the comprehension of their hearers. It must be remem- 
 bered, however, that in the olden time there was an intellectual 
 aristocracy in many a rural township where now there is none. A 
 select circle, including several families of culture, gathered round 
 the clergyman, and they did much in diffusing the influence of his 
 sermons among their less enlightened townsmen. Men learned that 
 the truths of religion were linked with each other, and if one fell 
 out a second and a third would fall out also ; that the whole system 
 was to be preserved in its integrity, and that the welfare of the 
 nation as well as of the church depended upon the truths of the gos- 
 pel, all interlinked with each other. When Dr. Stephen West was 
 pastor at Stockbridge, Mass., six of his parishioners were judges of 
 Massachusetts courts. Rev. Dr. Timothy Woodbridge, one of his 
 parishioners, writes : " When I was a very young man, I used to 
 attend a meeting for debate in which were from ten to twenty 
 persons liberally educated and residing in the parish. Some of them 
 were law students, and some theological students. Our pastor 
 interested the students of law as well as the students of divinity." 
 His educating influence was highly prized by Theodore Sedgwick, 
 John Thornton Kirkland, and other eminent men. 
 
 By the influence which a minister's own mind receives from the 
 habit of sermonizing he often excites the youth in his society to a 
 course of liberal education. By the same influence he has often 
 been induced to become the instructor of u training school. Very 
 
THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 43 
 
 much through the instrumentality of a single clergyman living in a 
 retired part of Massachusetts, thirty young men of his parish were 
 trained for professional life. More than this number have gone to 
 our colleges from a single religious society in New Hampshire. The 
 Rev. Moses Hallock, of Plainfield, Mass., prepared about a hundred 
 youth for college ; Dr. Wood, of Boscawen, New Hampshire, pre- 
 pared the same number, and among them his two parishioners, Eze- 
 kiel and Daniel Webster. A hundred and sixty-two young men 
 were educated by a plain pastor in the neighborhood of Boscawen, 
 and about thirty of them became members of the learned professions. 
 Each of these clergymen will long live in his pupils, and, whatever 
 may have been his own literary attainments, will produce, and has 
 produced, a visible effect on the literary character of multitudes. 
 This effect was not indeed produced by sermons altogether, but in 
 some degree ; not merely by their direct influence upon the auditor, 
 but also by their reflex operation upon the preacher himself. His 
 appropriate work inspires and prepares him for subordinate literary 
 labors. 
 
 It was not the design of the preceding sermon to state the facts 
 which illustrate the indirect influence of a preacher upon the intel- 
 lectual character of man. This influence may be illustrated not 
 merely by insulated facts, but also by connected chains of facts. His 
 great work has been accomplished in cherishing the graces of the 
 heart ; but in cherishing these graces he has performed a subordinate 
 work upon the mind. Men seldom speak of John Newton as an 
 intellectual benefactor of his race ; but we are now feehng his influ- 
 ence in the hymns and letters of Cowper, who was in some degree 
 moulded by John Newton ; in the writings of Buchanan who owed 
 his religious character to the instrumentality of the same divine, — 
 writings which are said to have first awakened the missionary spirit 
 of our own Judson ; in the works of Dr. Scott, another monument 
 of Newton's fidelity, and a spiritual guide to hundreds of preachers 
 and thousands of laymen ; in the words and deeds of Wilberforce 
 who ascribed a large share of his own usefulness to the example and 
 counsels of the same spiritual father. Edmund Burke on his death- 
 bed sent an expression of thanks to IMr. Wilberforce for writing the 
 Practical Christianity, a treatise which Burke spent the last two 
 days of his life in perusins. and from which he confessed himself to 
 have derived much profit ; a treatise which has reclaimed hundreds 
 
44 THE INDEBTEDNESS OP THE STATE TO THE CLERGY. 
 
 of educated men from irreligion, but which would probably never 
 have been what it now is, had not its author been favored with 
 Newton's advice and sympathy. 
 
 George Whitefield made so little pretension to scholarship that 
 men often smile when he is called a pioneer of a great improvement 
 in the literature of England and America. They overlook the 
 masculine and transforming energy of the religious principle when 
 stirred up, as it was, by his preaching against the pride and indul- 
 gences and selfishness of men. His eighteen thousand addresses 
 from the pulpit gave an impulse to the mental activity of friends and 
 foes of evangelical religion. His power was felt by Hume, Boling- 
 broke, Foote, Chesterfield, Garrick, Riltenhouse, Franklin, Erskine, 
 and Edwards ; by the miners and colliers and fishermen of England, 
 the paupers and slaves and Indians of America. " Had Whitefield 
 never been at Cambuslang, Buchanan, humanly speaking, might 
 never have been at Malabar." We may add that if Whitefield had 
 never been at Northampton, Bethlem, Exeter, and Newburyport, 
 the Andover Theological Seminary might never have existed. His 
 influence has been recently traced, percolating through various agents 
 until it reached the men who started that institution. 
 
 So we may believe that the college at Princeton was affected in 
 no small measure by the influence of David Brainerd. His intelli- 
 gence and zeal gave a perceptible impulse to the cause of education 
 in the state of New Jersey. He exerted an obvious power on the 
 men who founded the celebrated '' Log College," and on the men 
 who afterwards established Nassau Hall. Rev. Dr. David Dudley 
 Field in his work, entitled '• The Genealogy of the Brainerd Family," 
 says : " I once heard the Hon. John Dickinson, chief Judge of the 
 Middlesex County Court, Connecticut, and son of the Rev. Mr. Dick- 
 inson of Norwalk, say, ' that the establishment of Princeton College 
 was owing to the sympathy felt for David Brainerd, because the 
 authorities of Yale College would not give him his degree, and that 
 the plan of the college was drawn up in his father's house ' " (pp. 
 265, 266). We need not insist that the College owed its existence 
 to the mere sympathy with Brainerd in his expulsion from Yale ; but 
 we may believe that it owed a large share of its early prosperity 
 to the power of Brainerd's life and labors. — See Dr. Archibiild 
 Alexander's work, entitled "The Log College," p. 127; also Dr. 
 John McLean's History of the College of New Jersey, pp. 55-57. 
 
II. 
 
 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT/ 
 
 1 CORINTHIANS II. 2. 
 
 rOR I DETEBMIHED NOT TO KNOW ANYTHING AMONG YOU 8AVB JESUS CHEI8T, 
 AND HIM CRUCIFIED. 
 
 Should the apostle who penned this eloquent expression 
 resume his ministry on earth, and should he deign to hold 
 converse with us on the principles of his high calling, and 
 should he repeat his strong words : I am now, as of old, 
 determined not to know anything among you save Jesus 
 Christ, and Him crucified ; some of us would feel an impulse 
 to ask him : 
 
 " Can your words mean what they appear to imply ? You 
 are learned in Rabbinical literature; you have read the 
 Grecian poets, and even quoted from Aratus ; you have 
 examined the statuary of Greece, and have made a perma- 
 nent record of an inscription upon an altar in ancient 
 Athens; you have reasoned on the principles of Aristotle 
 from effect to cause, and have taken rank with the philoso- 
 phers, as well as orators of the world ; and now, you seem 
 to utter your determination to abandon all knowledge save 
 that which concerns the Jew who was crucified. You once 
 said that you had rather speak five words with the under- 
 standing, than ten thousand words in an unknown tongue ; 
 and here, lest the pithy language of this text should fail of 
 
 1 A Sermon preached at the Dedication of the Broadway Tabernacle, New 
 York, April 24, 1859. 
 
46 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 being truly apprehended, we desire to learn its precise mean- 
 ing in three particulars. 
 
 " In the first place, do you intend to assert that our knowl- 
 edge is controlled by our will ? You determined not to know 
 anything save one ? Can you by mere choice expel all but 
 one of your old ideas, and make your mind like a chart of 
 white paper in reference to the vast majority of your familiar 
 subjects of thought?" 
 
 ' I am ready to concede,' is the reply, ' that much of 
 our knowledge is involuntary ; still a part of it is depend- 
 ent on our will. In some degree, at some times, we may 
 attend to a theme or not attend to it, as we choose, and thus 
 our choice may influence our belief, and thus are we respon- 
 sible, in a certain measure, for our knowledge. Besides, the 
 word " know" is used by us Hebraistic writers to include not 
 only a mental apprehension, but also a moral feeling. When 
 we know Christ, we feel a hearty complacence in him. 
 Again, to "know" often signifies to manifest^ as well as to 
 possess, botli knowledge and love. We do not know an old 
 acquaintance when we of set purpose withhold all public 
 recognition of him, and act outwardly as if we were inwardly 
 ignorant of his being. But I, Paul, say to you, as I said to 
 the Corinthians, that I shall make the atonement of Christ, 
 and nothing but the atonement of Christ, the main theme of 
 my regard, of my loving regard, and such loving regard as 
 is openly avowed.' 
 
 Thus our first query is answered ; but there is a second 
 inquiry which some of us would propose to the apostle, were 
 he uttering to us personally the words which he wrote to the 
 Corinthians. It is this : 
 
 " Should a Christian minister out of the pulpit, as well as 
 in the pulpit, know nothing save the crucified one ? Did you 
 not know how to sustain yourself by the manufacture of 
 tents ; and did you not say to the circle of elders at Ephesus : 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 47 
 
 These hands have ministered to my necessities? Did you 
 not dispute with the Roman sergeants — plead your cause 
 before the Roman courts ? Must not every minister cease 
 for a time to converse on the work of Jesus, and must he 
 not tliink of providing for his own household, lest he become 
 worse than an infidel ? " 
 
 ' I am willing to admit,' is the reply, ' that the pulpit 
 is the place where the minister should speak of Christ with 
 more uniform distinctness than in other places ; but there 
 are no places, and no times, in which he should fail to mani- 
 fest, more or less obviously, his interest in his Redeemer. 
 AVherever he goes, he has a pulpit. Whether he eat or 
 drink, or whatever he do, he must do all for the glory of 
 God, and tlio highest glory of God is Christ, and the highest 
 honor of Christ is in Him crucified. A minister must 
 always respect the proprieties of life ; in honoring them he 
 knoivs that appropriate model man, who, rising from the 
 tomb, wrapped up the napkin that was about His head, and 
 laid it in a place by itself. Now the proprieties of life do 
 require a minister to speak in the pulpit on themes more 
 plainly and more easily connected with the atonement, than 
 are various themes on which he must speak in the market- 
 place or in the schools. But all subjects on which he may 
 discourse do lead, sooner or later, more or less obviously and 
 easily, to the great work of Jesus : and he should converse 
 on them with the intent of seizing every hint they give him, 
 following out every line to which they point him, in the 
 direction of the Cross. I have been in many synagogues, 
 and in the temple, and on Mars' Hill, and on a Mediterra- 
 nean ship-deck, and once was I hurried along in a night-ride 
 from Jerusalem to Caesarea with four hundred and seventy 
 soldiers, horsemen and spearmen. I have resided at leisure 
 with my arm chained to a Roman guard in a prison at the 
 Capital of the Roman Empire ; but in all such places I have 
 felt, and everywhere I do feel, bound to speak out, and to act 
 out, all tlic interest which the fitnesses of the occasion admit, 
 
48 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 in the atonement of Jesus ; and not to manifest, and not to 
 feel any interest in any theme which may lessen my regard 
 for this — the chiefest among ten thousand ! ' 
 
 But there is a third question which some of us would 
 propose to the apostle, were he to speak in our hearing the 
 words of the text : 
 
 " Should every man, as well as every minister, cherish and 
 exhibit no interest in anything but Christ ? Should a sailor 
 at the mast-head, a surgeon in the extirpation of the clavicle, 
 a warrior in the critical moment of the last charge, look at 
 nothing, and hear of nothing but the Cross? Must not 
 every one conduct businesses and sustain cares which draw 
 his mind away from the atonement ? " 
 
 ' I am ready to grant,' is the reply, ' that some duties are 
 less plainly and less intimately connected than others with 
 the work of Jesus ; but all of them are connected with it in 
 some degree, and this connection may be seen by all who 
 choose to gain the fitting insight. The great principle of 
 duty belonging to the minister in the pulpit, belongs to him 
 everywhere ; and the great principle of duty belonging to 
 the minister, belongs to every man, woman, and cliild. 
 There is not one religion for the man when he is in the 
 temple, and another religion for the man when he is in the 
 parlor or in the street. There is not one law for the ordained 
 pastor, and another law for the tradesman or the mechanic. 
 The same law and no different one ; the same religion and 
 no different one, are the law and the religion for apostles, 
 and publicans, and prophets, and taxgatherers, and patri- 
 archs, and children, and nobles, and beggars. Every man is 
 bidden to refuse everything, if it be the nearest friend, who 
 interferes with the claims of the Messiali ; and therefore 
 every man, layman as well as clergyman, must keep his eye 
 fixed primarily upon the Cross. He may see other things 
 within the range of that cross, but he must keep the Cross 
 directly at the angle of his vision, and allow nothing else, 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 49 
 
 when placed side by side with the tree on Calvary, to allure 
 his eye away from that central, engrossing object.' 
 
 Here then is our third question answered ; and in these 
 three replies to these three queries, we perceive the meaning 
 of our text to be : that not the preacher only, but the hearer 
 likewise, not on the first day only, but on every day like- 
 wise, not in the religious assembly only, but in all assemblies, 
 and in all solitudes likewise, must every man adopt the rule, 
 to give his voluntary, his loving, his secret and open regard 
 to nothing so much as to the character and work of his 
 Redeemer. 
 
 Having inquired into the meaning of the apostle's words, 
 let us proceed, in the next place, to inquire into the impor- 
 tance of making the atonement of Christ the only great 
 object of our thought, speech, and action. 
 
 And here, did we hold a personal interview with the author 
 of our text, we should be prompted to put three additional 
 queries before him. Our first inquiry would be : 
 
 " Is not your theme too contracted ? It is well to know 
 Christ, but in all the varying scenes of life, is it well not to 
 know anything else ? Will not the pulpit become wearisome 
 if, spring and autumn, summer and winter, it confine itself 
 to a single topic ? We have known men preach themselves 
 out by incessant repetitions of the scene at Calvary, — a 
 scene thrilling in itself, and on that very account not bear- 
 ing to be presented in its details, every Sabbath day. How 
 much less will the varying sensibilities of the soul endure 
 the reiteration of this tragic tale every day and at every 
 interview ! Such extreme familiarity induces irreverence. 
 The Bible is not confined to this theme. It is rich in eccle- 
 siastical history, political history, ethical rules, metaphysical 
 discussion, comprehensive theology. It contains one book 
 of ten chapters which has not a single allusion to God, and 
 several books which do not mention Christ ; why then do 
 
50 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 you shut US up to a doctrine which will circumscribe the 
 mind of good men, and result in making their conversation 
 insipid ? " 
 
 ' Contracted ! ' — this is the reply, — ' and do you consider 
 this topic a limited one, whose height, depth, length, breadth, 
 no finite mind can measure ? Of what would you speak ? ' 
 
 " We would speak of the Divine existence." 
 
 ' But Christ is the " I am." ' 
 
 " We would speak of the Divine attributes." 
 
 ' But Christ is the Alpha and Omega ; He searcheth the 
 reins and trieth the hearts of men ; He is the same yesterday, 
 to-day, and forever ; full of grace and truth ; to Him belong 
 wisdom and power and glory and honor ; of His dominion is 
 no end. Of what then would you speak ? ' 
 
 " We would speak of the Divine sovereignty." 
 
 ' But Christ taught us to say : Even so Father, for so it 
 seemed good in Thy sight — and He and His Father are 
 one.' 
 
 " We would converse on the Divine decrees." 
 
 ' But all things are planned for His praise who was in 
 Christ, and in whom Christ was at the beginning.' 
 
 " We would discourse on electing love." 
 
 ' But the saints are elect in Christ Jesus.' 
 
 " We would utter many words on the creation of men and 
 angels." 
 
 ' Now by our Redeemer were all things created that are in 
 heaven and that are in the earth, visible and invisible.' 
 
 •' We would converse on the preservation of what has 
 been created." 
 
 ' Now Christ upholdeth all things by the word of His 
 power. What would you have, then, for your theme ?' 
 
 " We would take the flowers of the field for our theme." 
 
 ' But they are the delight, as well as the contrivance of 
 the Redeemer.' 
 
 " We would take for our theme the globes in space." 
 
 * But they arc the work of His fingers.' 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 61 
 
 **Then we would take the very winds of heaven for our 
 theme, lawless and erratic as they are." 
 
 ' But Jesus taught us to comment upon these as an illus- 
 tration of his truth ; his poetic mind gave us the conception 
 that the wind bloweth where it chooseth to blow, and we 
 look on, wondering whence it cometh, and whither it goeth ; 
 knowing only that it is the breath of the Wonderful Coun- 
 sellor, who arouseth it as he listeth, or saith, Peace, be still. 
 What else then do you prefer for your topic of conversa- 
 tion?' 
 
 " We prefer the laws of nature for our topic." 
 
 * But in them the Father worketh and Christ worketh 
 equally.' 
 
 "If it be so, we will select the fine and useful arts for our 
 subject." 
 
 ' But all the materials of these arts, and all the laws 
 which compact them, and all the ingenuity which arranges 
 them, are of his architectonic plan. He is the guide of the 
 sculptor, painter, musician, poet. He is the contriver of all 
 the graces which we in our idolatry ascribe to the human 
 discoverer," as if man had originally invented them. The 
 history of the arts is the history of Christ's government on 
 earth. Will you propose, then, some other theme for your 
 remark ? ' 
 
 " Do let us converse on the moral law." 
 
 ' You may ; but Christ gave this law, and came to magnify 
 it.' 
 
 " Then let us comment on the ceremonial law." 
 
 ' You may ; but all its types are prophecies of Jesus,' 
 
 " Then we will expatiate on virtue in the general." 
 
 ' Do so ; but Christ is the first exemplar, the brightest 
 representative of all abstract goodness, of all your virtue in 
 the general.' 
 
 " Then we will take up ethical maxims." 
 
 ' Take them up ; but they are embodied in Him who is the 
 way. the truth, the life.' 
 
52 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 " We will resort then to human responsibility for our 
 
 subject of discourse." 
 
 ' But we must all appear before the judgment seat of that 
 
 fair-minded arbiter who is man as well as God.' 
 " May we not speak of eternal blessedness ? " 
 ' Yes ; but it is Christ who welcomes his chosen into 
 
 life.' 
 
 " Shall we not converse, then, on endless misery ?" 
 
 ' Yes ; but it is Christ who will proclaim : Depart ye 
 
 cursed.' 
 
 " The human body ; — we would utter some words on 
 
 that" 
 
 " But your present body is the image of what your Lord 
 
 wore once, and the body that you will have, if you die in the 
 
 faith, is the image of what your Lord wears now; — the 
 
 image of the body slain for^ our offences and raised again for 
 
 our justification. And have you still a favorite theme which 
 
 you have not suggested ?' 
 
 " The pleasures of life are our favorite theme." 
 ' Yes, and Jesus provided them and graced them at Cana.' 
 " The duties of the household are our favorite theme." 
 ' Yes, and Jesus has prescribed them and disciplines you 
 
 by them, and will judge you for your manner of regarding 
 
 them. "What would you have, then, what can you think of 
 
 for your choice topic of discourse ? ' 
 
 " We love to talk of our brethren in the faith." 
 
 ' But they are indices of Christ, and he is represented by 
 
 them.' 
 
 " We choose to converse on our Redeemer's indigent, 
 
 imprisoned, diseased, agonized followers." 
 
 ' And he is an hungered, athirst, penniless, afflicted in 
 
 them, and whatsoever we do to one of them we do to him, 
 
 and what we say of one of them we say of him.' 
 " May we speak in the pulpit of slaves ?' 
 ' Of slaves I Can you not speak of Medes and Parthians, 
 
 Indians and Arabians ? Why not then of Africans ? Have 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 63 
 
 they, or have they not immortal souls ? Was Jesus, or was 
 he not crucified for them ? Was he ashamed of the lowly 
 and the down-trodden, and those who have become the 
 reproach of men and the despised of the people ? You may 
 speak of all for whom Christ died ; as all men, bond or free, 
 and all things, globes or atoms, suggest thoughts leading in 
 a right line or in a curved line to the cross of Christ. All 
 things being thus nearly or remotely suggestive of the 
 atonement, are for your sakes, whether Paul, or Apollos, or 
 Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or 
 things to come ; all are yours, for your thoughts, for your 
 words. If things pertain to the divine essence, the whole of 
 that is the essence of Jesus ; if they pertain to the divine 
 relations, all of them are the relations of Jesus; if they 
 pertain to the noblest and brightest features of seraphs, all 
 the angels of God bow down before Jesus ; if they pertain 
 to the minutest changes of human life, in all our vicissitudes 
 Jesus keeps up his brotherhood with us ; if they pertain to 
 the vilest and darkest spot of our depravity, they pertain 
 to Jesus, — for to speak aright of sin is to be determined to 
 speak of Christ, and of him crucified for sin. 
 
 'And is this the doctrine which men call a contracted 
 one ? Narrow ! The very suspicion of its being narrow has 
 now suggested the first reason why you should place it and 
 keep it as the crown of all your words and deeds: — it is 
 so large, so rich, so boundless, that you need nothing which 
 excludes it. And therefore,' continues the apostle, ' I mean 
 to know and to love nothing, and to make it manifest that I 
 care for nothing, in comparison with, and disconnected from, 
 the God-man, as he developes all his attributes and all his 
 relations on the cross.' 
 
 But were the author of these laconic words in a familiar 
 conference with us, we might be tempted to address to him 
 a second inquiry : 
 
 " Is not your theme too large ? At first we deemed it too 
 
64 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 small, but now it swells out before us into such colossal 
 dimensions that we change our ground, and ask : Can the 
 narrow mind of man take in this multiplicity of relations, 
 comprehended in both the natures, and in the redemptive, 
 as well as all the other works of Christ ? Do not our frail 
 powers need one day as a day of rest, and one place as a 
 sanctuary of repose, from every thought less tender than 
 that of the atoning death itself? Must we not call in our 
 minds from Christ and him crucified, so as to concentrate 
 all our emotions on the simple fact of Christ crucified ? " 
 
 ' Too large a theme!' — this is the reply, — ' It is a large 
 theme, too large to be fully comprehended by finite intelli- 
 gences. Men have dreamed of exhausting the atonement, 
 by defining it to be a plan for removing the obstacles which 
 stand in the way of our pardon. It is too large for that 
 definition, as the atonement also persuades the Most High to 
 forgive us. Then men have thought to mark it round about 
 by saying, that it is a scheme for inducing God to interpose 
 in our aid. But the atonement is too large for that defining 
 clause, as it also presents motives to man for accepting the 
 interposition of God. Then some have thought to define it 
 exactly, by saying that the atonement is both an appeal to the 
 Lawgiver and also an appeal to the sinner. Too large still 
 is the atonement for that explanation. It is an appeal to 
 both God and man, but it is more. It is an appeal to the 
 universe, and is as many-sided, as the universe itself is to be 
 variously affected. Can we by searching fiiid out the whole 
 of atoning love ? It is the love of him who stretched out 
 his arms on the fatal wood, and pointed to the right hand 
 and to the left hand, and raised his eyes upward, and cast 
 them downward, and thus all things above and below, and 
 on either side, he embraced in his comprehensive love. It is 
 a large theme, but not too large to operate as a motive upon 
 us. The immeasurable reach of a motive is the hiding of 
 its power. The mind of man is itself expansive, and requires 
 and will have something immense and infinite of truth or 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 65 
 
 error, either overpowering it for good or overmastering it for 
 evil. The atonement is a great theme, but not too great ; 
 and for this additional reason : Its greatness lies, in part, in 
 its reducing all other doctrines to a unity, its arranging them 
 around itself in an order which makes them all easily under- 
 stood. We know in other things the power of unity amid 
 variety. We know how simple the geography of a laud 
 becomes by remembering that its rivers, although meander- 
 ing in unnumbered circuits around the hills and through 
 the vales, yet pursue one main direction from one mountain 
 to one sea. Now all the truths of God flow into the atone- 
 ment. They are understood by means of it, bec'ause their 
 tendencies are toward it ; and it is understood by means of 
 them, because it receives and comprehends them. 
 
 ' Consider more fully the first clause of this sentence ; all 
 other truths are understood by means of the atonement. It 
 gives to them all a unity by illustrating them all. Other 
 truths are not so much independent themes, as they are 
 branches growing up or sidewise out of this one root, and 
 they need this single theme in order that their relations may 
 be rightly understood. What, for example, can we know in 
 its most important bearings, unless we know the history and 
 office of our Redeemer ? Begin from what point we may to 
 examine the uses of things, we can never measure their full 
 utility until we view them from the Cross. The trees bud 
 and blossom. Why ? To bear fruit for the sustenance of 
 the human body. But is this an ultimate object? The 
 nourishment of the body favors the growth of the mind. 
 But is the human mind an end worthy of all the contrivances 
 in nature ? Does the sun, with all its retinue of stars, pur- 
 sue its daily course, with no aim ulterior to man's welfare ? 
 Do we adopt a Ptolemaic theory in morals, that man is the 
 centre of the system, and other worlds revolve around him ? 
 All things were made for God, as the Being in whom they 
 all terminate. Do they exist for elucidating his power? 
 This is not his chief attribute. His knowledge ? There is a 
 
66 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 nobler perfection than omniscience. His love ? But there 
 is one virtue imbedded as a gem in his love, and his love is 
 but a shining casket for this pearl of infinite price. This 
 pearl is grace. This is the central ornament of the charac- 
 ter of Jehovah. But there is no grace in Jehovah save as it 
 beams forth in Christ ; not in Christ as a mere Divinity, nor 
 in Christ as a mere spotless humanity, but in the two united, 
 and in that God-man crucified. All things were made hy 
 him and /or him, rising from the cross to the throne. With- 
 out reference to him in his atoning love, has nothing been 
 made that was made in this world. The star in the East led 
 wise men dnce to the manger where the Redeemer lay ; and 
 all the stars of heaven lead wise men noiv to him who has 
 risen above the stars, and whose glory illumines them all. 
 He is termed the sun of righteousness ; and, as the material 
 sun binds all the planets around it in an intelligible order, 
 so does Christ shine over, and under, and into, and through 
 all other objects, attract them all to himself, marshal them 
 all into one clear and grand array, showing them all to be 
 his works, all suggestive of our duty, our sin, our need of 
 atonement, our dependence on the one God, and the one 
 Mediator between God and man. 
 
 ' The first clause of my sentence was. All other truths are 
 understood by means of the atonement. Consider next the 
 second clause : The atonement is understood by means of 
 other truths. It crystallizes them around itself, and reduces 
 them into a system, not only because it explains them, but 
 also because it makes them explain it. It is not too large a 
 theme, for all the sciences and the arts bring their contribu- 
 tions to make it orderly and plain. Our text is a simple 
 one, because its words are interpreted by a thousand facts 
 shining upon it, and making themselves and it luminous in 
 their radiations around and over it. Listen again to its 
 suggestive words : 
 
 " For I am determined not to know anything among you 
 save Jesus Christ, and him crucified." 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 57 
 
 ' Now, what is the meaning of this plain term, " Christ ? " 
 It means a " king." But how can we appreciate the king, 
 unless we learn the nature of the beings over whom he 
 rules ? He reigns over the heavens ; therefore we investigate 
 the heavens. The whole earth is full of his glory ; therefore 
 we study the earth. He is the Lord over the angels ; when 
 we reflect on them, we catch a glimpse of him in his regal 
 state. He is the King of the Jews and the Gentiles. When 
 we meditate on men, we enjoy a glance at him who was born 
 for this end, that he might have dominion over our race. 
 When we contemplate the material worlds, all the vastness 
 and the grandeur included in them ; the sphere of mind, all 
 the refinement and energy involved in it, we are overpowered 
 by the reality, surpassing fable, that he who superintends all 
 the movements of matter and first spake it into being, and 
 once framed, as he now governs, the souls of his creatures, 
 he is the King who atoned for us ; and the more we know 
 of the stars in their courses, and of the spirit in its mys- 
 teries, so much the deeper is our awe in view of the con- 
 descending pity which moved their Creator to become one 
 with a lowly creature acquainted with grief for you and me. 
 So much is involved in the word, " Christ." 
 
 ' But our text speaks of Jesus Christ. That word, " Jesus ! " 
 What is the meaning of it ? It means a " deliverer," and in 
 the view of some interpreters it means " God, the deliverer." 
 Deliverer ? From what ? We do not understand the power 
 of his great office, unless we learn the nature and the vile- 
 ness of sin ; and we have no conception how mean, how 
 detestable sin is, unless we know the needlessness of it, the 
 nobleness of the will which degrades itself into it, the excel- 
 lence of the law which is dishonored by it. All our studies, 
 then, in regard to the nature of the will, the unforced volun- 
 tariness of depravity, the extent of it through our race, the 
 depth of it, the purity of the commands aiming to prevent 
 it, the attractions of virtue, the strangeness of their not pre- 
 vailing over the temptations of vice — they arc not mere 
 
68 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 metaphysics ; — they are studies concerning the truth and 
 the grace of Immanuel, who is God with us, and whose name 
 is " Deliverer," because he delivers his people from their 
 sins ; sins involving the power and the penalty of free, wrong 
 choice ; a penalty including the everlasting punishment of 
 the soul ; a punishment suggesting the nature and the char- 
 acter of the divine law, and the divine Lawgiver, in their 
 relation to the conscience and all the sensibilities of the 
 mind ; and that mind as undying as its Maker. All these 
 things are comprehended in the word, " Jesus." 
 
 ' But our text speaks of Jesus Christ and him crucified : 
 and this third term, " crucified," adds an emphasis to the 
 two preceding terms, and stirs us up to examine our own 
 capabilities, to learn the skill pervading our physical organ- 
 ism, so exquisitely qualified for pain as well as pleasure ; the 
 wisdom apparent in our mental structure, so keenly sensitive 
 to all that can annoy as well as gratify ; and thus we catch 
 a glimpse of the truth, that he who combines all of our dig- 
 nity with none of our guilt, and with all of the divine glory, 
 and who thus develops all that is fit to be explained in man, 
 and all that can be explained in God, — he it is who chose to 
 hang and linger, with aching nerve and bleeding heart, upon 
 the cross for you and me. This cross makes out an atone- 
 ment of the sciences and the arts, and brings tJmn also, as 
 well as devout men, at one with God ; all of them tributary 
 to the doctrine that we are bought with a price, that we are 
 redeemed, not with silver and gold, but with the precious 
 blood of a man, who was God manifest in the flesh. Too 
 large a theme is the atonement ? But it breaks down the 
 middle wall of partition that has kept apart the different 
 studies of men, and it brings them together as illustrations 
 of the truth, which in their light becomes as simple as it is 
 great. 
 
 ' The very objection, then, that the redemptive work is too 
 extensive for our familiar converse, has suggested the second 
 reason why it should be the main thing for us to think upon. 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 59 
 
 and speak upon, and act upon : It systematizes all other 
 themes, and gains from them a unity which becomes the 
 plainer because it is set off by a luminous variety ; and for 
 this cause,' continues the apostle, ' I intend to know nothing 
 with supreme love, except this centralizing doctrine which 
 combines all other truths into a constellation of glories.' 
 
 There is still a third inquiry which we might present to 
 the author of our text, could we meet him in a personal 
 colloquy : 
 
 " Your words all converge toward one point ; will they 
 not then become monotonous, and inapposite to the varying 
 wants of various, or even the same individuals ?" 
 
 ' A monotonous theme ! ' — this is the reply : ' "What can 
 be more diversified than the character and work of him who 
 is at one time designated as the omniscient God, and at 
 another time as a mechanic ; at one time as a judge, and at 
 another time as an intercessor ; now a lion, and then a lamb ; 
 here a vine, a tree, there a way, a door ; again a stone, a 
 rock, still again a star, a sun ; here without sin, and there 
 he was made sin for us. 
 
 ' Monotonous is this theme ? Then it is sadly wronged, 
 and the mind of man is sadly harmed ; for this mind shoots 
 out its tendrils to grasp all the branches of the tree of life, 
 and the tree in its healthy growth has branches to which 
 every sensibility of the human mind may cling. The judg- 
 ment is addressed by the atonement, concerning the nature 
 of law, of distributive justice, the mode of expressing this 
 justice either by punishing the guilty or by inflicting pain as 
 a substitute for punishment, the influence of this substitution 
 on the transgressor, on the surety, on the created universe, 
 on God himself. There is more of profound and even ab- 
 struse pliilosophy involved in the specific doctrine of the 
 atonement, than in any other branch of knowledge ; and 
 there has been or will be more of discussion upon it, tlian 
 upon all other branches of knowledge ; for sacred science is 
 
60 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 the most fruitful of all sciences in logical deduction, and this 
 specific part of the science is the richest of all its parts. 
 
 ' Not only the judgment, but also the imagination is ad- 
 dressed by the atonement ; as this is the comprehensive event 
 pointing to those three several hours, the like to which have 
 never been heard of, no, nor ever shall be : that first hour, 
 the hour of humiliating change, when the Son of God, who 
 had been from the beginning with God, gathering in the 
 praises of angels and enjoying the honors of his universal 
 reign, on a sudden left the bosom of his Father, and choirs 
 of angels followed far off from his train, and heralded to the 
 shepherds his arrival on. earth ; — and that second hour, the 
 hour of gloom, when the only-begotten Son, smitten of the 
 Father, cried out with a loud voice at the heaviness of the 
 blow, and the earth was astonished more than when the 
 prophet asked of old : Was the Lord displeased against 
 the rivers ? Was thine anger against the rivers ? Was thy 
 wrath against the sea ? — and that third hour, the hour of 
 triumph, when his troops of heralds shouted at his arrival : 
 Lift up your heads, ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye ever- 
 lasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in, scarred 
 in his hands and feet and side, but over all his foes victo- 
 rious, and marching from his cross to his throne, — and let 
 all the angels of God now worship him ! What was the 
 appearance of heaven ; how did its hosts look during that 
 first hour, when the very light of heaven moved out of its 
 place, and descended gracefully like a star to Bethlehem ? 
 And what was the solemnity in heaven, what was the deed 
 done there, during that second hour, when the first Person 
 withdrew himself from the second Person, and the angels 
 veiled their faces at the unutterable solitude of him who trod 
 the wine-press alone ? And what was the festival in the 
 realm of joy during that third hour, when its monarch came 
 riding prosperously home, with his sword upon his thigh, 
 and all the hearts of tlie redeemed threw open their doors 
 for liis glad entrance — a conqueror, and more than con- 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 61 
 
 queror, welcome, welcome to his everlasting rest ! At these 
 three scenes, in a life all full of transporting eras, the imagi- 
 nation falters, and lingers around them, and loses itself in a 
 strange delight, and whether it be in the body or out of the 
 body, it cannot tell. And will you say that scenes like these 
 are monotonous ? ' 
 
 " Not so for the poet or the philosopher," we might reply, 
 '• but are they variously appropriate for the common mind ?" 
 ' The common mind ! ' — this is the rejoinder. ' The com- 
 mon mind is reached first of all by the atonement. Those 
 children who cried " hosanna" in the temple, are yet in our 
 eye as pictures of thousands of children, who feel and love 
 the divine attributes as they are made plain and well-nigh 
 tangible in Jesus. Simeon and Anna yet stand in that same 
 temple as statues representing hundreds of aged saints, who 
 love to read the history of their Redeemer when all other 
 letters become illegible, and who can hear his voice when all 
 other voices become inaudible, and who grow young again 
 as his fresh doctrine rejuvenates their heart. Zaccheus 
 climbing the sycamore still remains in our vision as a symbol 
 of many a rich extortioner, who cannot rest until he has 
 entertained his Lord, and consecrated the half of his goods 
 to the poor, who are to be always with him, reminding him 
 of their Redeemer. That widow weeping as she measures 
 her slow steps out of the city, and smiling through her tears 
 as she receives her son healthy from the bier on which he 
 was borne toward the needlessly opened tomb, yet continues 
 in our view as a representative of many a mourner relieved 
 by his timely charities. Those minsti'els who laughed him 
 to scorn are images of millions who despise him, and then 
 he blesses them, and then with glad voice they spread the 
 fame of him round about ; the fame of him whose mission 
 it is to render good for evil, and to be the friend of his foes. 
 If I desire to be soothed, I find nowhere such gentleness as 
 at his last supper. If I aim to be stimulated, I find nothing 
 like his crown of thorns stirring me to duty. If I need to 
 
62 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 be joyous, whither shall I go but to him, all whose garments 
 smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia out of the ivory 
 palaces, whereby they have made him glad ? 
 
 ' The very intimation that the atonement addresses only 
 one sensibility, and is appropriate to only one class of 
 men, in one mood of mind, has now suggested the third 
 reason why this doctrine should be the main spring of our 
 inward and outward enterprise : It is so flexile and multi- 
 form, that it must be apposite to every man in every change 
 of character or state ; and therefore,' continues the apostle, 
 '^ I desire to make nothing prominent in my inward thought 
 or outward life, except this ever-fitting truth of Jesus Christ 
 and him crucified ! ' 
 
 Having now stated three reasons why it is important to 
 make the redemptive scheme our main object of interest, let 
 us close this discourse with three brief inquiries into the 
 method of giving the desired prominence to this wonderful 
 scheme. 
 
 And, first, were we conversing face to face with the author 
 of our text, when he had become Paul the aged and the 
 counsellor, we might ask him : 
 
 " In what method shall we resist our natural disinclination 
 to make the grace of Christ so conspicuous ? Is there not 
 such a disinclination ? Will not your hearers, will not you 
 yourself, much more shall not we who have never been 
 caught up to the third heaven, feel tempted to elevate self 
 above the redemptive mercy ? " 
 
 ' I fear it ; ' — this is the reply, — ' I fear it for myself. 
 Many secret misgivings have disturbed me. I know the 
 need of watchfulness. But I have a fixed resolve. If any 
 man be tempted to find some less humbling theme, I more : 
 circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the 
 tribe of Benjamin, an Hebrew of the Hebrews, as touching 
 the law a Pharisee (after the most straitest sect I lived a 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. G3 
 
 Pharisee), as touching the righteousness of the law blameless. 
 Yet I am determined to count all these things as loss, that I 
 may win Christ. 
 
 ' You inquire about my hearers. They will prefer to 
 gratify their self-esteem, rather than receive the excellency 
 of the knowledge of Jesus. I have tried them again and 
 again. I knew the pride of Corinth when I avowed to her 
 citizens : I am determined to know nothing among you save 
 Jesus Christ, and him crucified. I knew then that Corinth 
 was called The Wealthy. For more than eighteen months 
 I dwelt within her proud walls. I met her glad citizens on 
 the Acrocorinthus, enjoying their magnificent scenery. I 
 saw them going down the marble steps of their fountain 
 Peirene, where their famed Pegasus, as they believed, was 
 caught by Bellerophon. I visited their Stadium, and I drew 
 one of my illustrations from it. I looked in upon their 
 Theatre, and was moved by it to exclaim : We are become a 
 Theatre to the world, to angels, to men. I beheld the gay 
 throngs at the Corinthian Amphitheatre, that edifice so mas- 
 sive, that the remains of it, as also of their Stadium and 
 their Theatre, are yet to be seen, and long after your dying 
 day will be visited and admired by your own countrymen. 
 It is true, I did feel often that those votaries of pleasure 
 would look upon my preaching of the cross as foolishness in 
 comparison with their rounds of festivity. But none of 
 these things moved me. I was not ashamed of the Gospel 
 of Christ. / had a fixed plan. I wrote from Corinth to the 
 very capital of the world : So much as in me is, I am ready 
 to preach the Gospel to you who are at Rome also. Wher- 
 ever I went, I knew that bonds and imprisonment awaited 
 me for my chief theme of discourse, yet I was determined to 
 confer not with flesh and blood ; for I said : A necessity is 
 upon me ; yea, woe is me if I preach not the Gospel of 
 Clirist even in the palaces of Corinth and of Rome. And if 
 my steadfast resolution lielped me to resist my own and my 
 hearers' pride in the brilliant cities of the East, then your set 
 
64 THE PROMINENCE OP THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 resolve will nerve you anywhere, everywhere, to the same 
 humbling service. 
 
 ' Here, then, is the first method in which you may keep up 
 the habit of making Jesus and him crucified the soul of all 
 your activity : Bring to your help the force of a resolute 
 determination. There is a tendency in this resolute spirit to 
 divert your thoughts from other themes, to turn the current 
 of your sensibilities into the right channel, to invigorate 
 your choice, to exert a direct and reflex influence in coiic 
 firming the whole soul in Jesus. God is in that determina- 
 tion. He inspires it. He invigorates it. He works with it 
 and by it. There is a power in it, but the power is not 
 yours ; it is the power of God. God is in every holy resolve 
 of man.' 
 
 In our interview with the apostle we should address to him 
 a second inquiry : 
 
 " In what method can we avoid both the fact and the 
 appearance of being slavishly coerced into the habit of con- 
 versing on Christ and on Christ alone ? You speak of taking 
 your stand, adhering to your decision ; but this dry, stiff 
 resolve, — comes any genial spirit from it ? Will you not be 
 a slave to your unswerving purpose ? Your inflexible rule, 
 — will it not be a hard one, wearisome to yourself, disagree- 
 able to others ? You hold up a weighty theme by a dead 
 lift." 
 
 'I am determined,' — this is the reply, — 'and it is not 
 only a strong, but it is a loving resolve. For the love of 
 Christ constraineth me ; whom having not seen in the flesh I 
 love ; in whom, though now I see him not, yet believing, I 
 rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. It is not a 
 business-like resolution. It is not a diplomatic purpose. It 
 is not a meclianical force. It is an affectionate decision. It 
 is a joyous rule. It is the effluence of a supreme attachment 
 to the Redeemer. 
 
 ' And this is the second method in which 3'ou may retain 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF TUi: ATONEMENT. 65 
 
 Jesus Christ as the jewel of your speech and life : Cherish a 
 loving purpose to do so. A man has strength to accomplish 
 what with a full soul he longs to accomplish. Your Chris- 
 tian toil will be irksome to you, if it be not your cordial 
 preference ; but if your undeviating resolve spring out of a 
 hearty choice of your Saviour, then will it be ever refreshed 
 and enlivened by your outflowing, genial preference ; then 
 will your pious work be the repose of your soul. There is a 
 power in your love to your work. It is a power to make 
 your labor easy for yourself and attractive to others. This 
 is not your power ; it is the power of God. He enkindles 
 the love within you. He enlivens it. He gives it warmth. 
 He makes it instinct with energy. God is in all the holy joy 
 of man. 
 
 In our conference with the author of our text we might 
 suggest to him our third and last inquiry : 
 
 " In what method can we feel sure of persevering in this 
 habitual exaltation of Christ? You speak of your stern 
 purpose, but can you depend upon the continuance of it ? 
 You speak of your cordial as well as set resolve. But who 
 are you ? (forgive our pertinacious query.) Jesus we know. 
 But his disciples, his chief apostles — is not every one of 
 them a reed shaken with the wind, tossed hither and thither, 
 unstable as a wave upon the sea ? " 
 
 ' I know it is so,' — this is the reply. ' Often am I afraid 
 lest, having preached the Gospel to others, I should be a 
 castaway. And after all I am persuaded that nothing, 
 height, depth, life, death, nothing shall be able to separate 
 me from the love of Christ ; for I put my confidence in him, 
 and while my purpose is inflexible and affectionate, it is also 
 inwrought with trust in the atonement and the intercession. 
 I do pursue my Christian life in weakness and in fear and in 
 much trembling. For all the piety of the best of men is in 
 itself as grass, and the goodliness thereof as the flower of 
 the field. Therefore serve I the Lord with all humility of 
 
66 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 mind, and with many tears and temptations. Yet I am 
 determined with a confiding love. I am troubled on every 
 side ; my flesh has no rest ; without are fightings, within are 
 fears ; in presence I am base among you ; my bodily presence 
 is weak and my speech contemptible ; and if I must needs 
 glory, I will glory in the things which concern my infirmi- 
 ties. Still, after all, / am determined, my right hand being 
 enfolded in the hand of my Redeemer. I know whom I 
 have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that 
 which I have committed unto him against that day. For my 
 conversation is in heaven, from whence I am to look for the 
 Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile 
 body that it, may be fashioned like unto his glorious body, 
 according to the mighty working whereby he is able to sub- 
 due all things unto himself. I say the truth in Christ ; I 
 lie not ; I am the least of the apostles, that am not meet to 
 be called an apostle because I injured the church of God ; I 
 am less than the least of all saints. Still I am determined ; 
 for by the grace of God I am what I am ; and this grace 
 which was bestowed upon me was not in vain, but I labored 
 more abundantly than they all ; yet not I, but the grace 
 of God which was with me ; for I can do all things through 
 Christ which strengtheneth me, and therefore I am determined. 
 ' Borne onward, therefore, by your fixed plan, and no 
 one can succeed in anything without a plan, yet you must 
 never rely ultimately upon your determined spirit. Allured 
 further and further onward by your delight in your plan, 
 and no one can work as a master in anything without enthu- 
 siasm in his prescribed course, still you must not place your 
 final dependence upon your affectionate spirit ; for if you 
 take, for your last prop, either the sternness or tlie cheerful- 
 ness of your own determination, then you will know your 
 determination, and you are not to know anything save Josus 
 Christ and him crucified. Here, then, is the third method 
 in wliich you may give the fitting prominence to the l)est of 
 themes : You must rest for your chief and final support on 
 
THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 67 
 
 him and only on him, from whom all wise plans start, by 
 whom they all hold out, to whom they all tend, who is all 
 and in all, Jesus Christ and him crucified.' 
 
 My Christian brethren, you are all apostles. Every man, 
 every woman, every child, the richest and the poorest, the 
 most learned and the most ignorant of you, have been sent 
 by your Lord to serve not yourselves but Him, and you have 
 in essence the same responsibility resting on you as weighed 
 on the apostle who wrote our text. He, too, was burdened 
 by the same kind of temptations and fears which oppress 
 your spirit. But he was held up from failing in his work by 
 a three-fold cord ; and that was his resolute determination, 
 as loving as it was resolute, and as trustful as it was loving, 
 to know nothing save Jesus Christ and him crucified. The 
 last that you hear of him as an impenitent man is in the 
 words : " And Saul, yet breathing out threatening and 
 slaughter against the disciples of the Lord." It was Christ 
 whom the proud Jew last opposed. The first that you hear 
 of him as a convicted man is in the words : " Who art thou. 
 Lord?" It was Christ whom the inquiring Jew first studied. 
 And the first you hear of him as penitent man is : " Lord, 
 what wilt thou have me to do ? " It was Christ to whom the 
 humble disciple first surrendered his will. And the first that 
 you hear of him as a Christian minister is : " And straight- 
 way he preached Christ in the synagogues, that he is the Son 
 of God." And the last that you hear of him as a Christian 
 hero is : "I have fought the good fight, I have finislicd my 
 course. I have kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up 
 for me a crown of righteousness." And the secret of this 
 victorious career is in words like those of our text : ' I 
 adhered to my plan (when among the fickle Corinthians) ; 
 I was decided (when among the vacillating Galatians) ; to 
 know nothing (when among the learned at Athens and them 
 of Caesar's household at Rome) ; save Jesus Christ (when I 
 was among my own kinsmen, who scorned him), and him 
 
68 THE PROMINENCE OF THE ATONEMENT. 
 
 crucified (when I was among the pupils of Gamaliel, all of 
 whom despised my chosen theme) ; still I was determined to 
 cling to that theme among the Greeks and the barbarians, 
 before Onesimus the slave and Philemon the proud master ; 
 for I loved my theme, and, suffering according to the will of 
 God, I committed the keeping of my soul to him in well- 
 doing as unto a faithful Creator.' 
 
 And herein is it to be your plan, my brethren, and your 
 joy, not to make this sanctuary the resort of wealth and of 
 fashion, but rather of humble suppliants, who by their 
 prayers may divert all the wealth and fashion of the world 
 into the service of your Lord ; not to make this temple the 
 resting-place of hearers who shall idly listen to the words of 
 an orator, but a temple of earnest co-workers with Christ, 
 thinking of him, speaking of him, loving him first and last 
 and midst and without end. As you come to this house of 
 God on the Sabbath, as you go from it, as your week-day 
 recollections gather around it, may you renew and confirm 
 your plan to know your Redeemer, and not only to know 
 
 him, but who is sufficient for these things? — not to 
 
 know anything save your Redeemer ; and not only to shut 
 yourselves up to the supreme love of nothing except Christ, 
 
 but also, his grace will be sufficient for you, to 
 
 worship and serve Christ in the central relation of him cru- 
 cified. Knowing him alone, he will sustain you as fully as 
 if he knew you alone. He will come to you in this temple 
 as frequently as if he had no other servants to befriend. He 
 will listen to your prayers as intently as if no supplications 
 came up to him from other altars, and he will intercede for 
 you as entirely as if he interceded in behalf of no one else ; 
 for remember, that when he hung upon the cross, he thought 
 of you, and died for you, just as fully as if he had been 
 determined to think of no one, and to die for no one, save 
 you, whom he now calls to the solemn service of consecrating 
 your own souls, and your " holy and beautiful house" to the 
 glory of Jesus Christ and Him crucified. 
 
III. 
 
 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS/ 
 
 PSALM XIX. 1—4. 
 
 THE HEAVENS DECLARE THE QLORT OP GOD; AND THE FIRMAMENT BHEWETH HI8 
 HANDY WORK DAY UNTO DAT UTTKRETH SPEECH, AND NIGHT UNTO NIGHT 
 6HEWETH KNOWLEDGE. THERE 18 NO SPEECH NOR LANGUAGE, WHERE THEIR 
 VOICE IS NOT HEARD. THEIR LINE IS GONE OUT THROUGH ALL THE EARTH, 
 AND THEIR WORDS TO THE END OP THE WORLD. 
 
 When we come into the temple of the Lord, especially 
 when we come to set apart one of his ambassadors, we love, 
 as it is often wise, to concentrate onr thoughts upon the liv- 
 ing preacher, as the man who declares the whole counsel of 
 God. He does declare it ; but not he alone. 
 
 And the first train of reflection started by our text is, that 
 all the divine works express the divine character. They are all 
 preachers for God. As the sun and the stars make our earth 
 visible, and bring into clear view its instructions concerning 
 its Maker ; as the oriental skies are brilliant and suggestive 
 in a peculiar degree, they are naturally singled out as 
 luminous in illustrating the divine excellence. Long after 
 Niebuhr had ended his eastern travels, when he had become 
 blind and debilitated by old age, he beguiled his weary hours 
 " in recalling the aspect of tlie oriental heavens. As he lay 
 in his bed, the glittering splendor of the nocturnal Asiatic 
 sky, on which he had so often gazed, or its lofty vault and 
 
 1 A Sermon preached at the Installation of tlic Rev. Jacob M. Manning, as 
 Associate Pastor of the Old South Church in Boston, Mass., March 11, 1857. 
 
70 THE REVELATION OP GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 azure by day, imaged themselves to his mind in the hour of 
 stillness, and ministered to him his sweetest enjoyment." 
 On the roof of his palace David sat in the early dawn, and 
 as he mused he was instructed by the stillness of the heavenly 
 bodies. Their very silence was to him a sign of thought — 
 even we speak of the music of the spheres — ' There is no 
 audible speech,' he exclaimed, ' no articulate language of 
 the moon and the planets ; their voice is not heard by the 
 physical ear ; still, in their own way, they do preach concern- 
 ing the divine excellence as fully as if they proclaimed it in 
 my beloved Hebrew tongue. Their spiritual words have 
 gone out so far that every man hears them with the spiritual 
 organ, and they are a universal language. One day pours 
 forth speech to the day succeeding ; every night rehearses 
 lessons to the night which comes after it ; the heavens de- 
 clare the glory of God, and the firmament officiates as a 
 demonstrator of the work of his hands.' Not the heavens 
 alone, but the whole earth is also full of its Maker's glory. 
 He said, " Let the earth bring forth its plants." And it did 
 so. He said this in williyig it. His act of choosing is virtually 
 his act of sjjeaking; and as a printed word is a permanent 
 memorial of the speaker's thought, so the plants yielding 
 seed are perennial mementos of their Author's mind. And 
 God said, " Let the earth bring forth its living creatures." 
 It was so ; and these living creatures are the published words 
 of him who spake and it was done. There are forces in 
 matter and in mind. These forces are preserved, as they 
 were originated, by the positive act of God. This act is his 
 speech. He put forth a volition respecting the waters ; thus 
 " he gave to the sea his decree"; his formative energy was a 
 phrase which the Bible translates into our words : " Hitherto 
 shalt thou come, and no further." He willed ; and herein 
 " he commanded, and it stood fast." His mandates to ma- 
 terial and mental substance are what we term the laws of 
 nature. These laws are his imperative declarations. These 
 laws are the words filling up what we style the volume of 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 71 
 
 nature. They are imprinted on all the animal and the 
 vegetable tribes. The heavens and the earth are but the 
 leaves of one book open to all men. ' For,' saith an apostle, 
 ' the invisible things of God, from the creation of the world, 
 being understood by the things that are made, are clearly 
 seen ; even his eternal power and Godhead are legibly writ- 
 ten out ; so that the heathen, if they fail to perceive all that 
 is needful for their safety, are without excuse.' 
 
 Our first train of reflection has been, that all of God's 
 works express his excellence. In our second series of remark, 
 let us consider the metJiods in wJdch the divine character is 
 revealed hy the divine operations. 
 
 One of these methods is the use of signs which are fitted 
 in their very nature to suggest the truth pertaining to God. 
 There is a natural language for expressing spiritual ideas. 
 The proverb is, that actions speak louder than words. The 
 tear makes known what the tongue conceals. The sigh, the 
 groan, the blush, the drooping head, expose the secrets which 
 no words can tell. Now, if an elevated gesture of man have 
 a fitness to express a lofty thought, much more has the ex- 
 panse of the firmament, or some mountain of the Lord, a 
 fitness to suggest an idea of his exaltation. If the sparkling 
 eye, the opened, extended lip of man have a tendency to 
 reveal the joy of the spirit that animates his countenance, 
 much more does a shining landscape express the benevolence 
 and the blessedness of the Spirit which enlivens the hills and 
 dales. The works of God are adapted to an end ; this adapt- 
 edness is an effect, and therefore a sign of his skill. His 
 works arc fitted to a good end ; this fitness is a result, and 
 thus an exponent of his wisdom. His works are so adjusted 
 as to awaken the hope of a reward for well-doing, or the fear 
 of a penalty for ill-doing ; this adjustment is an effect, and 
 thus a declaration of his purpose to remunerate the good and 
 to punish the bad. If any object be suited in its structure 
 to /'//jpress the mind of man, this very suitableness is an 
 
72 THE REVELATION 0¥ GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 earpression of the mind of God. Whoever attends to the 
 teaching of nature, listens to the conversation of Him who 
 speaks through all nature. The laws of health are prescrip- 
 tions from the great Physician. The influences of Geology 
 and Astronomy are lessons from our First Teacher. We 
 " do err, not knowing the Scriptures," if we fail to regard 
 natural scenery as intended to reveal the mind of Him who 
 smiles or frowns in it. 
 
 Religious poets have an instinct for religious philosophy, 
 and some of them have been inspired to regard the signifi- 
 cance of natural phenomena as homogeneous with natural 
 speech ; and one of them exclaims : " Sing, ye heavens ; — 
 shout, ye lower parts of the earth ; break forth into singing, 
 ye mountains, forest, and every tree therein." " For ye" 
 — my people — " shall go out with joy, and be led forth with 
 peace ; the mountains and the hills shall break forth before 
 you into suiging, and all the trees of the field shall clap their 
 hands." When the waves of the sea were driven back by 
 the violence of the wind, the poet, reasoning as a philosopher 
 without his syllogisms, looked upon the phenomenon as an 
 exponent of the power and the will of God to overcome all 
 resistance, and therefore he felt inspired to say : " The waters 
 saw thee, God, the waters saw thee ; they were afraid : the 
 depths also were troubled." Their movements were expres- 
 sive of that which causes trouble. When the Lord came 
 down upon Sinai, " there were thunders, and lightnings, and 
 a thick cloud upon the mount." That cloud signified the 
 hiding of the power of the Most High. That thunder was 
 his voice. It expressed all the truths which, had they vocal 
 organs, they would have articulated. And " all the people 
 that was in the camp trembled," " and the whole mount 
 quaked greatly." Now the trembling of the people, and the 
 quaking of the mountain, denoted, each in a different way, 
 the same idea ; and that idea is, the fearfulness of the divine 
 power, when arrayed against the wicked. That idea was 
 caught by the Psalmist as he exclaimed: ' What^was the 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 73 
 
 matter with you, ye mountains, that ye skipped like rams ? 
 What was the matter with you, ye little hills, that ye leaped 
 like lambs ? Tremble thou earth, at the presence of God, 
 at the comhig of the God of Israel.' — The description of a 
 tempest in the eighteenth Psalm, is like the epitome of an 
 harangue from Him who thundereth marvellously with his 
 voice to his agitated enemies. Let men adopt whatever 
 philosophy they choose, there are moments when they de- 
 tect such relations between physical phenomena and the 
 human soul, as do express, and, in despite of the sternest 
 will, must express that power and that purpose of God which 
 are fearful to the wicked. The inward structure of things 
 will sometimes awaken in the most atheistic mind a fear of 
 that mysterious Agent who " maketli darkness his pavilion 
 round about him," and " gathereth the winds in his fists." 
 
 Nor is the natural language in which God reveals his 
 attributes limited to external symbols. We feel the internal 
 signs of his character and plans. The approval of a good 
 man's conscience has a meaning higher than that of a mere 
 human phenomenon. It is an expression of the divine 
 justice. It is a smile of God alluring us to persevere in 
 well-doing. It is a prediction from his lips, that the com- 
 placency which is here a stimulus to virtue shall be hereafter 
 the central element of all moral reward. The remorse of 
 conscience is also an alphabetic sign in the book of nature, 
 that God is just. It is a word from him, predicting that the 
 displacency which is now a dissuasive from shi shall in the 
 eternal world be the main element of our moral penalty. 
 " The wrath of God," saith an apostle, " is revealed from 
 heaven" to men capable of reading the tokens of his wrath ; 
 " because that which may be known of God is manifest in 
 them ; for God hath showed it unto them." Their sensibiH- 
 ties, more than the stars of heaven, declare the glory of 
 God ; and their intellect, more than the firmament, showetli 
 his wisdom. In swift succession tliought uttereth speech to 
 thought within their own minds, and feeling showetli kuowl- 
 
74 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 edge to feeling ; and the word of God is nigh them, even in 
 the recesses of their soul. 
 
 Another method in which the works of Jehovah express 
 his character, is the use of signs which have a conventional 
 fitness to suggest ideas. He has superadded arbitrary to 
 natural language in the communication of his truth. The 
 rainbow has nothing in its structure adapted to reveal a 
 divine promise respecting anotlier flood ; but the Author of 
 it gave it a meaning, and made it, as it were, an epistle 
 printed on the clouds and recording a divine purpose. The 
 bread and the wine would never of themselves have signified 
 the truth of atoning love ; but God has imparted a signifi- 
 cancy to the bread and wine, and made them words which 
 " have gone out through all the earth," to illustrate his love. 
 The bruised grain, its nutritive power, the breaking of the 
 one loaf, — the pressed grape, its exhilarating influence, the 
 pouring out of the fruit of the vine, — each of these things 
 is a kind of grammatical sentence which has the same mean- 
 ing here and at ' the ends of the world.' The articulate 
 speech of men also is, not less really than the earth itself, a 
 work of God. He inserted within us the tendency to use 
 arbitrary language. He contrived those curious organs Ijy 
 which we speak and hear. He is the author of that mys- 
 terious fact, that the ideas and the impulses of one man 
 move his tongue, " that little member," to start vibrations in 
 the atmosphere reaching the tympanum of the ear of a thou- 
 sand auditors at once, and wakening up their minds and 
 their hearts, in an instant, with the very thoughts and feel- 
 ings which are stirring the tongue of the speaker, and per- 
 haps inflaming the zeal of his hearers to a more fervid heat 
 than his own, they anticipating as well as catching his syl- 
 lables, and filling out, with their own suggestions, what he 
 leaves vacant in his haste. These influences of speech 
 " declare the glory of God." But more than this. He uses 
 our words as his own vocabulary. Ho employed arbitrary 
 language in conversing with Adam, Abraham, Moses. He 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 75 
 
 adopted Hebrew, Chaldaic, Greek, Aramgean sentences, in 
 communicating his truth through prophets and apostles. 
 He now instructs men in the words of his ministers. The 
 utterances of the pulpit are in themselves but undulating 
 air. Still, by means of this invisible, vibrating atmosphere, 
 the Spirit of the Lord breathes into the hearts of men that 
 faith which " cometh by hearing." In allusion to this fact, 
 Paul applies one verse of our text to the oral preachers 
 of the truth, and affirms: "Yes, verily their sound," as 
 well as that of the sun and stars, " went into all the earth, 
 and their words unto the end of the world." David ex- 
 claims : ' Lord, our Lord, who hast set thy glory above 
 the heavens, — out of the mouth of children, thou hast pre- 
 pared for thyself a power that shall overcome the enemy ;' 
 and if the voice of babes " declare the glory of God," then 
 much more do the lips of his evangelists ' show his handy 
 work.' 
 
 At first, we meditated on the fact that our Maker reveals 
 his attributes in all things which he has made. Secondly, 
 we examined the methods in which the results of his power 
 declare his glory. We proceed, in the third place, to consider 
 some of the reasons why Jehovah unfolds his character in his 
 works. 
 
 One obvious reason is, that the manifestation of his attri- 
 butes is inseparable from the exercise of them. If he act at 
 all, he must act out the principles of his being ; and to act 
 them out is to make them known. When he governs the 
 world, he puts forth his attributes ; in putting them forth he 
 exposes, expresses them. He exerts his wisdom in giving to 
 the mind an impulse to infer the nature of the cause from 
 the nature of the effect. In exerting this wisdom he exhibits 
 it; for it is this wisdom, as the cause, to which the mind 
 reasons from itself as the effect. He cannot form an image 
 of himself without disclosing the original excellence wliich 
 is imaged forth. How can he let his benevolence have its 
 
76 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 free scope, unless he form sentient beings able to enjoy his 
 benevolence ; and how can they fully enjoy it, unless they 
 perceive it ; and how can they perceive it, unless he show it 
 unto them ; and how can he show it unto them clearly, 
 unless it appear in his deeds ? If he exercise his mercy 
 toward men, he must relieve the suffering ; if he do give 
 tliis relief, he must therein manifest the mercy which he 
 feels. If he exercise his grace toward men, he must bestow 
 favor upon the guilty ; if he do bestow such favor, he must 
 therein exhibit the grace which he cherishes. It is necessary 
 for Him either to repress his love or to express it. Why 
 should he repress it ? Why close the gates through which 
 his benignant favors flow forth as a stream ? Why seal up 
 the attributes whose outgoings are essential to his perfection ? 
 If he give a full indulgence to his love, then he makes men 
 capable of enjoyment, and their constitution proclaims his 
 goodness ; then he surrounds them with objects fitted to 
 awaken joy, and these objects, adapted to this constitution, 
 unite with it in preaching of his benignity. Even the 
 
 " flowers of lowly birth. 
 Embroiderers of the carpet earth, 
 
 That stud the velvet sod, 
 Open to spring's refreshing air, 
 And in their smiling bloom declare 
 
 Their Maker and their God " — 
 
 as a Friend who expresses to the eye the very goodness which 
 in our inward structure he expresses to our conscience ; and 
 who must adorn the universe if he reveal his own char- 
 acter, and who cannot reveal his whole character unless he 
 adorn the universe, and make the beauties of one day utter 
 speech to the beauties of the day succeeding. 
 
 Another reason why Jehovah makes use of his works as a 
 language revealing his attributes is, that he promotes the 
 welfare of Jds offspring by the revelation. The father pleases 
 his children by appearing to them. The disciples were 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 77 
 
 troubled until they heard the cheering voice : " It is I, be 
 not afraid." The Psalmist, in our context, was triumphant 
 when he beheld the sun coming as a bridegroom out of his 
 chamber, and rejoicing as a hero to run a race ; starting 
 from one end of the heavens and careering to the other end 
 of them, all the day irradiating the world with proofs of the 
 divine benevolence, and converting every hill and stream 
 into a mirror reflecting the divine likeness. Other men are 
 often in solitude ; or if in society, they have no friends. 
 But the child of God, wherever he moves, is near to his 
 Maker. Under the venerable oak, or on the skirts of the 
 deep sea, or in the pure air of the mountain-top, he talks 
 with the Great Spirit. The laws of his own mind are the 
 words of his Friend whispering within him. The normal 
 hopes of the good man are promises, his constitutional fears 
 are threatenings, his accurate judgments are instructions, 
 directly from Him who worketh all in all. Sentimental 
 writers bring the truth into disrepute, from the manner in 
 which they speak of Jehovah revealing himself to men and 
 within men. But here is something beyond mere sentimen- 
 talism. Here is sober philosophy. In the constitutional 
 workings of the soul God does manifest himself to it. What- 
 ever the free will of his creatures does not, their Maker does. 
 An author of an effect must be some free will. But many 
 effects without us and within us are not produced by a 
 created free will ; then they are produced by the Uncreated. 
 They make known God's laws. They disclose his feelings. 
 The acts of conscience testify of his purposes. The decisions 
 of the reason speak his counsel. The necessary beliefs of 
 men are his teachings. All ethical axioms are his revela- 
 tion. The moral freedom of men is his express summons to 
 a right preference. Their innocent joys are his words of 
 good cheer. Their deserved sorrows arc his loud rebukes. 
 " All things work together" and speak together for the 
 good of men. 
 
78 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 " Yes, yes, all have a voice ; the heavens above. 
 The earth beneath, and things that under earth 
 Lie deeply hidden, — all send out a sound, 
 And lecture man, the wandering and the lost, 
 In holy love." 
 
 And in the sober hours, the Sabbath moods of a well- 
 trained heart, 
 
 " When with chastened feeling she doth hold 
 Converse with nature, then nor shrub nor tree, 
 Nor flower that to the sun its leaves unfold. 
 But breathes a text for some pure homily." 
 
 Because this thought is uttered in rhythmical cadence, 
 do not throw it aside as merely poetical. The substance of 
 it is prose ; for God animates and actuates all things, and 
 all effects reveal their cause ; and if he produce results, he 
 appears in them ; if he do not appear, he does not produce 
 results. Therefore inspiration sends us to the school of 
 nature. '■'■Consider the ravens;" for they are preachers of 
 Him who feedeth them. " Go to the ant, — consider her 
 ways and be wise," for her ways have been marked out, not 
 by her own judgment, but 'by the wisdom of her Contriver. 
 '■'■Consider the lilies;" for they have a "silent eloquence 
 more rich than words." All flowers, we are told by a poet 
 half enlightened, 
 
 " are the alphabet of angels, whereby 
 They write on hills and fields mysterious truths." 
 
 But the complete philosopher informs us that they are 
 the alphabet not of angels but of God. And if the field 
 flower and the insect and the bird bring words to us from 
 our great Teacher, we are, surely, to consult the oracles 
 within our own minds, the structure of the imagination, the 
 offices of the memory, the laws of the taste and judgment, 
 the prophetic tones of conscience. " He that walketh with 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 79 
 
 wise men shall be wise." He learns dutj from their exam- 
 ple ; spiritual truth from their words. But the pious mau 
 walks with God. He attends to the example of God as it is 
 exhibited in all the movements of matter. He listens, in 
 the spring time, to the faint "whisperings of a prophecy of 
 the resurrection of the dead by the power of Him " who so 
 clothes the grass of the field." It is the joy of a devout 
 man, — and he invests himself with a new dignity in the 
 indulgence of his delight, that wherever he goes he is edified 
 by the mysterious Preacher who writeth " sermons in stones, 
 and books in the running brooks." 
 
 Perhaps it is impossible for any power to impress on the 
 mind any truth, by mere words, so deeply as by acts, which 
 are emphatic words. As children learn the rules of prudence 
 from the peace which follows one course and the pain which 
 follows another, so all minds, perhaps, may learn the char- 
 acter of God from his prosperous or afflictive dispensations, 
 more clearly than from any artificial utterances. Grief 
 has a pungent eloquence. Adversity writes with a sharp 
 thorn. 
 
 Another reason why Jehovah reveals his excellence through 
 his works is, that he promotes his own blessedness by the 
 revelation. He might, in merely written syllables, inform 
 us that he is omnipotent ; but as a sovereign, he chooses to 
 speak to us by the globes of heaven, which declare him tu 
 be almighty. He might, in a merely artificial language, 
 indicate his benevolence ; but he prefers to address us in 
 our own joys and hopes, which rehearse his loving-kindness. 
 
 But why do we presume that the blessedness of the Most 
 High is promoted by his development of his excellence ? So 
 far as we have learned, it is the law of all sentient beings, to 
 express themselves. Even the cattle on a thousand hills, 
 the birds of the air, have an irrepressible longing to make 
 known what they feel. The child smiles and cries, the man 
 speaks ; he must speak ; a fire burns in his bones and flames 
 out, forcing itself through the most intricate way of com- 
 
80 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 munication when the easiest avenues are shut up. It is the 
 law of all mind, above all a pure mind, of course then an 
 infinite mind, to bring itself out to the light. Why then 
 should not the Being of whom we are the image, feel an 
 immeasurable bliss in gratifying his desire to manifest, in 
 the view of others, what he enjoys himself? 
 
 But he has more than this constitutional tendency to 
 develop his character. This character is a good in itself, 
 and deserves his own as well as our supreme love ; delight- 
 ing in it, he must be happy in the radiating of it upon his 
 offspring. The exercise of his attributes is a source of bliss, 
 and we have seen that he cannot exercise them in their 
 normal way without manifesting them ; he must therefore 
 rejoice in their manifestation. He loves to promote the hap- 
 piness of his friends ; he gratifies this love ; and their happi- 
 ness is a fruit and sign of his benevolence. He chooses to 
 advance the welfare of his enemies in their probation. He 
 gratifies this choice, and their welfare is the result and proof 
 of his grace. He cannot give to the angels their appropriate 
 honor without letting his own goodness shine out in their 
 glory ; why should he conceal that goodness ? He cannot 
 raise men to their destined thrones, without illustrating his 
 own mercy in their exaltation ; why should he hide that 
 mercy. These things, such things, are not done in a corner. 
 A fountain does not keep itself compressed in a ball of ice. 
 The sun does not bind its rays to and within itself. From 
 within, outward, all affections flow forth. From the recesses 
 of the soul to the well-being of the universe, all right affec- 
 tions move forward. The diffusing of its own joy is the law 
 of a loving heart, and only in the diffusing of it is the full 
 development of it, and only in its development is the con- 
 summating of its rest. 
 
 Having first considered the fact that God does reveal his 
 attributes in his works ; secondly, the modes in which he 
 reveals them ; and thirdly, the reasons for which he does it, 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 81 
 
 let US attend, in the fourth place, to some remarks which are 
 suggested by this theme. 
 
 The first remark is on the reasojiableness of Jehovah in his 
 retributive administration. He loves virtue. His constitu- 
 tional desire is to manifest his love. Why should he restrain 
 this desire ? But if he express it, his nature prompts him to 
 express it by act. And the act by which he will make known 
 his love of virtue, — known thoroughly by being felt deeply, 
 
 — is the exciting of the moral sensibility of virtuous agents 
 in favor of their own rectitude. Their complacency of con- 
 science, and many of its preliminary and consequent joys, 
 will be their reward. The reward is worked out according 
 to the laws of their constitution. But these laws are the 
 work, and therefore the word of God. They express his 
 remunerative justice. Is it not a reward directly from him ? 
 
 — what can be a richer recompense than for us to feel that 
 the Author of our moral faculty is ever, without one mo- 
 ment's interim, cherishing an immeasurable joy in us, and 
 expressing that joy, not by mere arbitrary signs, but by the 
 complacency flowing from our own moral judgment, and 
 therefore stable and sure, because the judgment is ever sus- 
 tained and the complacency is ever quickened by his ener- 
 gizing Spirit. Not one suspicion will ever darken our mind, 
 that our remunerating friend is distant from us, but we 
 shall drink in a ceaseless life from the assurance that we 
 hear him declaring, what our moral sentiments will be 
 always expressing, his own complacency in our character as 
 perfected by his grace. He will reveal his loving approval 
 in our moral judgments ; these will be the heavens declaring 
 the glory of God. And is it not reasonable, that he should 
 honestly express what he inwardly feels ? This disposition 
 to express his delight in the pure of heart, and to make 
 them blissful in receiving the expression, is his remunerative 
 justice to them. 
 
 Equally reasonable is the punitive justice of the Most 
 
82 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 High. He abhors sin. It is an infinite hatred. No finite 
 mind can ever fathom tlie deptli of his displeasure toward 
 one solitary transgression. Shall he conceal his displeasure ? 
 His abhorrence of sin is nothing dishonorable, nothing 
 wrong. Why should he hesitate to express it ? It is what 
 it ought to be, noble, magnanimous. Why shall he not be 
 honest in revealing it' ? And if he do reveal it, why shall he 
 not adopt the method which he prefers in his ordinary dis- 
 pensations ; the method which the law of his being has pre- 
 scribed ; the method of action, the emphatic, the divine 
 speech ? Arbitrary words, perhaps, cannot be made to unfold 
 his exact meaning ; he must awaken the moral sensibility 
 of sinners against themselves ; incite them to condemn their 
 own wrong. This remorse, and many of its preliminary and 
 consequojit pains, are their punishment. The punishment is 
 worked out according to the laws of their constitution. But 
 these laws are the device of God. They express what he 
 feels. The upbraidings of conscience are the declarations of 
 his punitive justice. They are the vivid signs of the dis- 
 pleasure of Him who made the conscience, and employs it 
 as his interpreter. It is He who inflicts the pain ; he inflicts 
 it directly ; not because he has an instinct for pain ; — that 
 be far from him ; but because he is honest, and chooses to 
 disclose his feelings just as they are, and because this open- 
 ness in disclosing them is essential to the highest good, and 
 because the remorseful agonies of the transgressor are the 
 normal language expressing the lawgiver's justice. And is 
 it not a punishment from Jehovah ? — what can be a severer 
 recompense than for us, if we are left incorrigible, to have 
 the inward assurance that our friend, our best friend, is ever 
 near us, frowning upon us, — our compunction being his 
 frown ; — not because he is indifferent to our persons, but 
 because he loves them and therefore abhors our suicidal 
 crimes, and exposes his abhorrence, not in artificial forms of 
 speech, but in our own reason, in our moral judgment, in all 
 ithe pains by which he awakens our displaccncy, and which 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 83 
 
 he appends to it. Forever and ever to be gazed at by a man; 
 whenever we look up, or around, or wherever we cast our 
 eye, to see a man's frown, and find no mterval of repose 
 from this unceasing gaze, would be a discomfort which no 
 imagination can measure. But to remain through eternity, 
 and without a single moment's relief, fastening our vision 
 upon one and the same omnipotent Being, who searcheth us, 
 and his eyes are ever upon us ; who preserves us, and we 
 cannot flee from his presence ; who loves us even to the end, 
 and therefore abhors our sinful abuse of ourselves, and 
 expresses his abhorrence in no passive way, but by causing 
 us to despise our own character, and to feel the exact fitness 
 of our own self-contempt and of his infinite displeasure, — 
 this, this is the interminable monotony of the pain of a 
 rational being from whom his Judge conceals nothing. With 
 what emphasis will the words of our text be reiterated by 
 that lost one, when the skies which now speak to his hope, 
 shall speak only to his fear: 'The heavens, — I look up to 
 them, and they still declare the goodness of God, and it is that 
 goodness which afflicts me: and the firmament, — I gaze at 
 it, and still it showeth his handy work, and that is the work 
 which now reminds me of what I was, and of what I am. 
 There, day unto day uttereth speech, and I listen to it and 
 am troubled. Here, night unto night showeth knowledge, 
 and I see it, and it is a weariness to me. No speech — no 
 language — their voice is not heard, — but still their sound 
 goeth forth through all the earth, wherever I may escape ; 
 and their words reach to the ends of the world, if I take the 
 wings of daybreak, and fly thither. Amid the swellings of 
 my own compunction, deep calleth unto deep; my judgment 
 speaks to my memory, and my conscience cries out to my 
 fears, and my punishment is so rational, that it is greater 
 than I can bear.' Is it not a reasonable punishment, when it 
 convinces the intelligent universe, that He is sincere and 
 wise who expresses his dislike of wrong in the language of 
 suffering, than which no sign can be more vivid or more 
 
84 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 eloquent ? Is it not a reasonable punishment, when it utters 
 such lessons concerning the law, the divine justice, the evil 
 of sin, as quicken the spirits of heaven to new fidelity, and 
 dissuade men on earth from perseverance in transgression ? 
 Is it not a reasonable punishment, when it is needed as a 
 beacon-fire to warn off the erring voyager from his perilous 
 way, and as a telegraph to signify through the entire uni- 
 verse, in a mode quicker and brighter than that of the light- 
 ning, that there is one evil greater than pain, and pain is 
 the last resort to deter us from that one evil, the exceeding 
 sinfulness of sin? 
 
 A second remark, suggested by our theme, is on the con- 
 sistency of the atonement with other parts of the divine adminis- 
 tration. As the Most High loves to express himself in the 
 material world, so he loves to express himself in the phe- 
 nomena of the mind and heart. As he chooses to disclose 
 his attributes in the punishment of the wicked, when this 
 punishment is needful for the common welfare, so he chooses 
 to dispense with punishment when he can disclose the same 
 attributes, and impress the same truths, and promote the 
 same well-being, in some equivalent way. The power of 
 any language to suggest ideas and excite emotions is mys- 
 terious. Articulate speech is a wonder. The significance of 
 penal suffering is felt more clearly than it can be described. 
 But the fulness and variety and intensity of meaning and 
 of impression in the atonement, are what even the angels 
 desire to look into. The truth-loving God has threatened 
 eternal woe to sinners ; can he save them and yet attest his 
 veracity ? The cross needs no superscription ; it is, itself, a 
 superscription in Latin and Greek and Hebrew and in every 
 language spoken under heaven, telling the reasons why, and 
 the methods wherein, the threatening is true, even when its- 
 execution is waived ! God is just ; how then can he manifest 
 tliis attribute, if he treat the wicked as if they had never 
 sinned ? The death of his Son is a more conspicuous sign 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. o5 
 
 of his retributive sentiment than could be delineated on the 
 heavens, if all the stars were arranged in legible sentences 
 and paragraphs, asserting and reiterating his punitive justice. 
 Unwavering is God in his abhorrence of sin ; how then does 
 he welcome the sinner to himself? How ? We know. We 
 feel. The scene on Calvary uncovers the depths of his holi- 
 ness, and unveils the fitness of his forgiving love. Are there 
 any alphabetic tokens that he retains the attribute of mercy 
 or grace in view of even those whom he destroys ? The ago- 
 nies of Jesus are the Alpha and Omega of this alphabet. 
 All the moral attributes of God are rehearsed in the sighs 
 which heaved the bosom of the Redeemer on Olivet, in the 
 sobbings at Gethsemane, in the outcries on Golgotha. Those 
 audible sounds were the indices of an inward character and 
 state, which were the clearest possible exponent of the divine 
 perfections. 
 
 It has been said that our Redeemer endured the identical 
 penalty which had been threatened against sinners. But the 
 penalty of the law is everlasting damnation. Was the only 
 beloved Son damned ? Forever ? Se endured that which ex- 
 pressed as much as would have been signified in the endless perdi- 
 tion of men. Is it replied that he suffered, if not an eternal, 
 yet some punishment ? Me bore the pain which ivas equivalent 
 in meaning to a punishment. His death spoke out all which 
 our penalty would have denoted. He who never felt one 
 pang of remorse, one jar of discordant feeling, but was sus- 
 tained by an unfaltering complacence in his own love to his 
 Father, and his Father's love to him, — for even when for- 
 saken, he knew that his Father delighted in him as of old, — 
 he, the very impersonation of innocence and peace of con- 
 science, was incapacitated to receive the pain which is called 
 damnation ; he could no more be morally punished, than 
 could the lamb which was a type of him ; but he could, and 
 he did make an atonement, as the lamb on the altar prefig- 
 ured an atonement, whicli was a substitute for penal infliction. 
 Olio mode of speech may be substituted for another, to ex- 
 
86 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 press the same idea. There is a meaning in punishment. 
 It speaks to the universe. It asserts the rectitude of the 
 Lawgiver and of the law. But here is an exchange. When 
 transgressors are saved, the atonement, instead of their pun- 
 ishment, appeals to the universe, and so appeals as to prove 
 the rectitude of the Lawgiver and of the law, while the pen- 
 alty which is still due is not inflicted. Christ is the Word. 
 He spake at the beginning, and in the heavens declared the 
 glory of God. On his cross he was still the Word, uttering 
 speech to principalities and powers, and proving to the uni- 
 verse that it is consistent for God, while he remains just, to 
 justify the ungodly. Punishment speaks to men. It warns 
 them to flee from sin. But here is an exchange. When 
 transgressors are saved, the atonement, instead of their pun- 
 ishment, speaks to men. There is no oral speecli in the 
 bleeding side of the Redeemer. There is no avidible lan- 
 guage in his pierced hands ; his voice in the undulating air 
 is no longer heard ; but the expressiveness of his wounds has 
 gone out through all the earth, and the real words of his 
 cross penetrate to the ends of the world. Now, as on the 
 day of his crucifixion, the rocks are rent, and the graves are 
 opened by Him who speaketh as never man spake ; breaking 
 the hard heart, raising the dead will, and rending the veil of 
 forms and ceremonies from the top to the bottom. The 
 atonement addresses not men only, not the created universe 
 only, but the Creator. It persuades him to bless his enemies. 
 Once, the blood of Abel cried to him from the ground ; but 
 now, the blood of Christ speaketh better things than the 
 blood of Abel. It has a voice, says our celebrated poet, — 
 " Blood has a voice to pierce the skies." The atonement is 
 a prayer from the Son to the Father. The influence of it is 
 prolonged, even to our time ; and in the efficacy of his death 
 he is an Intercessor for us. The atonement is a plea in our 
 behalf; the eloquence of it is continued even yet, and in its 
 importunity our Redeemer is our Advocate, rehearsing the 
 argument of his death for our salvation. 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. RT 
 
 It is objected, that if the atonement consists in expressing 
 the divine character, it is ostentatious ; that the rule of life 
 is, not to do good for the sake of manifesting a will to do it, 
 but for the sake of the good which is done. Ostentatious ! 
 But " the heavens declare the glory of God ; " why should we 
 complain if they declared his justice and grace, when they 
 shrouded themselves in darkness at the hour of the Redeem- 
 er's passion ? Ostentatious ! But ' day uttereth speech unto 
 day-)^ and why may we not believe that the day when our 
 Lord was crucified, will rehearse its discourse to the day 
 when he shall reappear to welcome his chosen friends ? Is it 
 ostentatious for one night to show knowledge unto another ? 
 Why then is it a thing incredible, that the night when Jesus 
 lay in his tomb, should impart instruction to the night when 
 we are groping in sin, and longing for one glimpse of hope 
 for our wearied souls ? One principle pervades all the works 
 of God, and that is the principle of revealing their Maker. 
 Their revelation of Him is his revelation of himself. The 
 * herbs and fruits and flowers roll soft their incense 
 
 ' In mingled clouds to Him whose sun exalts, 
 Whose breath perfumes them, and whose pencil paints.' 
 
 It is not tliey^ however, it is He who thus enforces his 
 claims upon our regard. And can it be ostentatious for Him 
 to comply with his nature whose primal law is to develop its 
 own excellence ; an excellence which deserves to be made 
 known ; an excellence consisting in attributes which cannot 
 be exercised without being displayed, and cannot be dis- 
 played without elevating and refining all who are willing to 
 be made wise ? 
 
 But, it is rejoined, the works of nature promote the wel- 
 fare of men, and as a consequence reveal their Author, while 
 the atonement is supposed to reveal its Author, and as a con- 
 sequence promote the tvelfare of men. The two things, we 
 reply, are inseparably conjoined. Our Father in heaven 
 would recall his erring children from sin. In one view, his 
 
88 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 first intent is to make them holy. First of all, he loved the 
 world, and desired the holiness of the world, so that he then 
 gave his Son. He cannot interpose for his enemies, without 
 some expression of regard for his law. His comprehensive 
 wisdom devises the plan, by which he makes this needed ex- 
 pression in the very attempt to awaken the desired holiness 
 in his foes. He condescends to unite himself with men ; 
 this condescension is one part of the atonement, and one 
 motive to our virtue. He denies himself in giving instruc- 
 tion to men. This self-denial is one part of the atonement, 
 and involves those truths which are one means of reforming 
 our will. He submits to the sacrifice of toil and pain for the 
 relief of the hungry, the bereaved, the remorseful. This 
 toil and pain form one part of the atonement, and suggest 
 one incentive to our piety. He resigns himself to all the 
 physical, and all the mental woes of the hour when he was 
 deserted of the Father. These mysterious pains comprehend 
 the main part of the atonement ; and while they make it 
 consistent for God to pardon sin, they also offer persuasives 
 for us to abandon it. The death of Christ, then, is express- 
 ive of God, because it is beneficent ; and also it is beneficent, 
 because it is expressive of God. It is the beneficence of 
 God manifest in the flesh. The last complaint which could 
 be expected from a student of nature is, that the goodness 
 which radiates in the stars of heaven, should also shine out 
 in Him who is the Bright and Morning Star ; that the kind- 
 liness which beams forth from the luminary of the skies, 
 should also be displayed in Him who is the Sun of Right- 
 eousness. When Jesus was lifted up as a sacrifice for sin, he 
 verified his saying, " I am the light of the world," for then 
 he illuminated all the obscure dispensations of Providence. 
 When, in the process of crucifixion, he made the justice and 
 the grace of God illustrious, then was he " the brightness 
 of the Father's glory, and the express image of his person ; " 
 and in that brightness we read the rectitude of the Father ; 
 and in that imago we see the consistency of his ways ; and 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 89 
 
 in declaring this rectitude, in securing, showing and enforc- 
 ing this consistency, lies the essence of the atonement.' 
 
 A third remark, suggested by our theme, is on the Jiarmony 
 of both the visible and invisible works of God with the feelings of 
 a devout man. He keeps his ear attent to the sounds of the 
 land, air, sea, and therefore they express to him rich truths. 
 Ebal shouts to Gerizim, and Gerizim shouts back to Ebal the 
 words of the Lord. He draws nigh to them who seek him 
 in his works, and he hides himself from them who care not 
 to listen for his voice. As when man smiles, it is the soul 
 originating the smile, and when he frowns, it is the soul 
 causing the frown ; so when the face of nature wears a pleas- 
 ing or a forbidding aspect, the expression of thought comes 
 from the Spirit who animates the face of nature, and speaks 
 through it as by a prophet or apostle. One of our own 
 divines, who might have been the first poet of the land, had 
 he not chosen to be its first theologian, one who in times 
 gone by held sweet counsel with two of the pastors, and sev- 
 eral of the members of this church,^ and came with them to 
 this house of God in company, was wont to look out upon all 
 nature as a temple filled with symbols of the Most High, and 
 to converse with the Infinite Mind revealing itself through 
 the expressive movements of matter, as of old in the bu^h 
 that burned. " Wlien the discourse [with my father] was 
 ended," he said, "• 1 w^alked abroad alone in a solitary place, 
 
 1 " Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood, 
 to declare (ei's ^vZei^iv), his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, 
 through the forbearance of God ; to declare, I say (irphs tt)v tvZu^kv), at this time 
 his righteousness ; that he might be just, and the justifier of him which believcth 
 in Jesus." — Rom. iii. 25, 26. 
 
 '^ Rev. Drs. Sewall and Prince, Hon. John Bromfield, Hon. Andrew Oliver, and 
 others. The first sermon or essay which President Edwards ever published, was 
 his " Thursday Lecture," preached in Boston July 8, 1731, and prefaced with an 
 " advertisement " from Dr. Prince and Dr. Cooper. " It was with no small diffi- 
 culty," they say, " that the author's youth and modesty were prevailed on to let 
 him appear a preacher in our public lecture, and afterwards to give us a copy of 
 his discourse " for the press. He was then in the twenty-eighth year of his age. 
 
90 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 in my father's pasture, for contemplation. And as I was 
 walking there, and looking upon the sky and clouds, there 
 came into my mind so sweet a sense of the glorious majesty 
 and grace of God, as I know not how to express. I seemed 
 to see them both in a sweet conjunction, majesty and meek- 
 ness joined together. It was a sweet and gentle and holy 
 majesty, and also a majestic meekness ; an awful sweetness ; 
 a high and great and holy gentleness. After this, my sense 
 of divine things gradually increased, and became more and 
 more lively, and had more of the inward sweetness. The 
 appearance of every thing was altered. There seemed to be, 
 as it were, a calm, sweet cast, or appearance of divine glory, 
 in almost everything. God's excellency, his wisdom, his 
 purity and love, seemed to appear in every thing ; in the sun, 
 moon and stars, in the clouds and blvie sky, in the grass, 
 flowers, trees, in the water and all nature, which used greatly 
 to fix my mind. I often used to sit and view the moon for a 
 long time ; and in the day spent much time in viewing the 
 clouds and sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these 
 things, in the mean time singing forth, with a low voice, my 
 contemplations of the Creator and Redeemer. And scarce 
 anything among all the works of nature was so sweet to me 
 as tliunder and lightning ; formerly, nothing had been so 
 terrible to me. Before, I used to be uncommonly terrified 
 with thunder, and to be struck with terror when I saw a 
 thunder-storm rising. But now, on the contrary, it rejoiced 
 me. I felt God, if I may so speak, at the first appearance 
 of a thunder-storm, and used to take the opportunity, at such 
 times, to fix myself in order to view the clouds and see the 
 lightnings play, and hear the majestic and awful voice of 
 God's thunder, which oftentimes was exceedingly entertain- 
 ing, leading me to sweet contemplations of my great and 
 glorious God. While thus engaged, it always seemed natu- 
 ral for me to sing or chant forth my meditations, or to speak 
 my thoughts in soliloquies with a singing voice." ' 
 
 1 I'rcsidcnt Edwards's Works, vol. i. pp. 61, 02. Dwiglit's edition. 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 91 
 
 The same great metaphysician, who describes himself as 
 having " sometimes a kind of vision, or fixed ideas and imagi- 
 nations of being alone in the mountains, or some solitary 
 wilderness, far from all mankind, sweetly conversing with 
 Christ and wrapt and swallowed up in God," thus recites his 
 experiences with nature in her gentler teachings : " Holiness, 
 as I then wrote down some of my contemplations on it, ap- 
 peared to me to be of a sweet, pleasant, charming, serene, 
 calm nature ; which brought an inexpressible purity, bright- 
 ness, peacefulness and ravishment to the soul. In other 
 words, that it made the soul like a field or garden of God, 
 with all manner of pleasant flowers ; enjoying a sweet calm, 
 and the gentle, vivifying beams of the sun. The soul of a 
 true Christian, as I then wrote my meditations, appeared like 
 such a little white flower as we see in the spring of the year, 
 low and humble on the ground, opening its bosom to receive 
 the pleasant beams of the sun's glory, rejoicing as it were, in 
 a calm rapture, diffusing around a sweet fragrance, standing 
 peacefully and lovingly in the midst of other flowers round 
 about ; all in like manner opening their bosoms, to drink in 
 the light of the sun." ^ 
 
 The rose forcing its way up amid the banks of snow on the 
 mountains of Switzerland, speaks not a word to the listless 
 observer ; but to the man who walks over the mountains, and 
 listens for the voices of instruction there, the Alpine rose ex- 
 presses, by its analogies, just what it would have uttered 
 orally, if it had a mind and the gift of tongues ; virtually it 
 does say to the mental ear : 
 
 " View in this mountain's frozen breast 
 
 An emblem true of thine, 
 So cold, so hard, till on it rest 
 
 A beam of light divine. 
 Feel'st thou this life-inspiring ray ? 
 If not, then upward look and pray, 
 
 1 President Edwards's Works, vol. i. pp. 61, 65. Dwight's edition. 
 
92 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 That He who made these mountain snows 
 A cradle for the opening rose, 
 Would deep within thine heart embower 
 A brighter far than earthly flower." 
 
 "We have heard what men say of the century plant. ' Day 
 unto day it uttereth speech, night unto night it showeth 
 knowledge.' Year after year its awkward forms arouse the 
 curiosity of man, and after a lengthened period of patient 
 waiting by fathers and children and children's children, it sud- 
 denly fulfils the dark predictions concerning it, and develops 
 the beauties which had lain hidden within its crooked stalk ; 
 and its brilliant colorings attest the power and the grace of 
 Him who maketh every thing beautiful in Us season. That 
 flower is a living word, growing out of a divine skill. But 
 the history of our entire race has been like the record of 
 that growth of the agave. The unsightly branches of the 
 race have spread themselves out prophetic of some excellence 
 that had not yet appeared, and after prophets and kings had 
 longed to see the glory that was to come, but had died with- 
 out the sight, — at length the stem of Jesse budded, and the 
 beauty of the whole earth bloomed out in the vale of Judea. 
 That was the rose of Sharon. That was the blossoming of 
 the true vine, whereof we are the branches. That was the 
 Word of God. 
 
 We have heard the stories which men tell of the passion- 
 flower, enfolding in itself all the symbols of the crucifixion. 
 An image of the cross is in it, men say ; and of the nail, 
 and of the spear, and of the mallet. And men, like Michael 
 Angelo and Raphael, have also pointed out the images of the 
 cross in the out-spreading limbs of the trees, in the extended 
 arms of the human body, in the jutting promontories, and in 
 some of the stars of heaven. But we have no need of these 
 fanciful analogies. In the structure of all things related to 
 the human soul we detect a pliilosophy, pointing us to some 
 great Propitiation that " takctli away the sin of the world." 
 The impulses of hope and fear, the want of fitness in the 
 
THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 93 
 
 earth to satisfy our immortal desires, the tendencies of our 
 joys as well as sorrows to leave our souls restless while in 
 sin, all our experiences in life proclaim our need of Jesus as 
 our Redeemer. The longing of the convicted soul to find 
 peace with an offended God, is the voice of God speaking 
 within that soul, and reiterating that great truth : " Without 
 the shedding of blood is no remission." Hence the Psalmist, 
 in our context, could not be held down to the intimations 
 concerning the Messiah in the scenes of nature or in the ex- 
 periences of the unaided mind, but rose to that law which 
 abounded with types and prophecies of atoning love. ' More 
 to be desired is this law than gold,' exclaims the Psalmist. 
 It must be so, for, says an Apostle : " The law is our school- 
 master, to bring us unto Christ." " The testimony of the 
 Lord is sure," adds the Psalmist. It must be so : for it is 
 the testimony concerning Him who is declared by the Apostle 
 to be " the end of the law," and who has abeady come to 
 " magnify the law and make it honorable." Christ is the 
 result to which all the prophets and all nature point. That 
 star which guided the wise men to the place where the young 
 child lay, was but an illustration of the end for which all the 
 stars were made, — illumining our path to Him who was 
 the Babe of Bethlehem, and is now, as he was then, the Re- 
 deemer for whom, and by whom, and to whom are all things. 
 The longer we listen to a distant sound, so much the more 
 distinctly do we hear it ; for the atmosphere becomes wonted 
 to it, and our minds become expert by discipline in detecting 
 the auricular vibrations. So the longer we listen to the 
 voices of nature, they become the more fvill and rich in their 
 expression of divine truth. Old age refines the spiritual ear; 
 and, as the body decays, the soul becomes more and more 
 sensitive to the undulations of the spiritual atmosphere. 
 And as century after century rolls by, the whisperings of the 
 Divine Spirit will be more and more clearly recognized, and 
 that volume of sound which came to the ear of David from 
 the skies by day and by night, will be gaining new emphasis 
 
94 THE REVELATION OF GOD IN HIS WORKS. 
 
 and new power, until, at the Millennium, the heavens will 
 declare the glory of God so that all men shall hear, " as it 
 were, the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of 
 many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying : 
 Allelujali, for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth." 
 
 If we believe that all the works of Jehovah are thus har- 
 monious in proclaiming his excellence, then we are prepared 
 for our fourth remark, that the Christian Preacher is an inter- 
 preter both of nature and of revelation. One spirit reigns in 
 both. The truths of the Bible are illustrated by the phenom- 
 ena of Hfe, and the phenomena of life are explained by the 
 truths of the Bible. The analogies between the two are 
 needed for comprehending the two. The prophets and apos- 
 tles vivified their discourses with these analogies. They made 
 the heavens and the earth one whispering-gallery, collecting 
 and addressing to our ear the voices of the Most High. 
 ' And it shall come to pass in that day, saith the Lord, I will 
 respond to the heavens when they shall call upon me, and 
 the heavens shall answer to the earth when it calls upon them, 
 and the earth shall listen to the corn and the wine and the 
 oil when they cry unto it, and they shall give ear, and give 
 sustenance to my scattered people.' Thus is all nature alive 
 and vocal, when the prophets describe it. More than one 
 folio volume has been filled with comments on the sugges- 
 tions which have been gathered from the myrtle, cedar, olive, 
 willow, palm, and all trees ; from the eagle, dove, sparrow, 
 lion, viper, dragon, leviathan, and all animals ; from the sil- 
 ver, pearl, jewel, ruby, and all manner of precious stones ; 
 from the wells without water, clouds without rain, floods, 
 winds, flaming fire — all of them ministers of God; from 
 children, fathers, ambassadors, rulers, shepherds, trumpeters, 
 soldiers, captains ; things in heaven and on the earth and 
 under the earth, all laid under contribution, — the grave it- 
 self forced to give up its dead men's bones, to express and to 
 impress some truth which men would overlook if they were 
 not startled into an attentive mood. And since the day when 
 
THE liEV ELATION Oif GOD IN HIS WORKS. 95 
 
 men spake with tongues of fire from the Holy Ghost, the 
 Chrysostoms and the Bernards and the Jeremy Taylors and 
 the Whitefields of the church have lifted up the clarion of 
 the Gospel, and waked the echoes from the woodland and the 
 mountain, and have made the rocks and the streams resonant 
 with the voice of God. Now, as of old, it is the high office 
 of every minister to gather into his own mind, that he may 
 diffuse through the mind of his people, instructions from the 
 sea and the field, from science and from history, from the 
 arts and the aims of men. He should make all the events 
 of life pay tribute to Him who governs, as he created, the 
 world for the church. Philosophy and biography, the relics 
 of ancient and the inventions of modern time, are all infe- 
 rior to evangelical truth ; but they should lead the mind up 
 to it, and be faithfully used as subservient to it. " When I 
 consider," saith the Psalmist, " thy heavens — the moon and 
 the stars which thou hast ordained — what is man that thou 
 art mindful of him?" But then, reflecting on the Man 
 who represents the race emancipated and redeemed, the 
 Psalmist adds : " Thou hast crowned him with glory and 
 honor ; — thou hast put all things under his feet." The ma- 
 terial heavens are but auxiliaries to the humble preacher 
 who speaks in the name of this Psalmist's Lord and Son. 
 The very stars are but asterisks, referring to some note on 
 the atoning love which is the minister's great theme. The 
 preacher's body, fearfully and wonderfully made ; his mind, 
 which will declare the glory of God when the material heav- 
 ens shall have been folded up as a vesture ; his manner of 
 life, which, if he have an unction from the Holy One, is an 
 epistle from Jehovah to men ; his discourses, which, so far as 
 they are true, are but a paraphrase of the inspired word — 
 all that he does and all that he is in fidelity to his Maker, 
 make him a representative of the Law and of the Gospel, 
 and an exponent both of nature and of grace. 
 
 And when he takes the oversight of a church like this, 
 consecrated with rich and ancient memories, he gathers to- 
 
96 THE REVELATIOJS' Vi: Gvh I.N Ulb WORKS. 
 
 gether all the voices of the past, and echoes them as the 
 present voice of God to his people. Standing in this pulpit, 
 he recalls the prayers which have been offered here, one of 
 them celebrated throughout the Christian world as an illus- 
 tration of prevailing entreaty. He recounts the influences 
 which have flowed from members of this church over men 
 who have affected the destiny of empires. He reiterates the 
 counsels of those godly pastors, whose natural voice is not 
 heard now, and there is no speech nor language coming audi- 
 bly from their tombs ; but their real words are still going 
 out to the ends of the world. He recites the records of this 
 church, as it began its alms-deeds more than a hundred 
 years before our Republic had a place among the indepen- 
 dent nations of the earth. He describes the future progress 
 of this church, if it remain true to its ancient promise ; for 
 so it will continue its beneficence hundreds of years after the 
 present dynasties of the world shall have died away ; for, in 
 the history of a church like this, century uttereth speech to 
 century, and generation showeth knowledge to generation ; 
 and though it be a small republic, it may remain unharmed 
 and intact, though all the civil institutions around it sink 
 into oblivion. All these, and more than these hallowed re- 
 membrances, will the minister of this people utter forth 
 until the stones of this ancient edifice " shall cry out of the 
 wall, and the beam out of the timber shall answer " them ; 
 the pews, as well as the pulpit, declaring the glory of Him 
 who has promised to guide the children, as he guarded the 
 fathers in Israel. 
 
 With what emphasis, then, must our brother who takes 
 his great office now and here, repeat the inference which the 
 royal Psalmist himself appended to the words of our text : 
 " Who can understand his errors 2 Cleanse thou me from secret 
 faults. Keep hack thy servant also from presumptuous sins ; 
 let them not have dominion over me : then shall I be upright, and 
 I shall be innocent from the great transgression. Let the words 
 of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, he acceptable in 
 thy sight, Lord, my Strength, and my Redeemer.''^ 
 
THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL.' 
 
 ROMANS I. 16. 
 
 BOR I AM HOT ASHAMED OF THE QOSPEL OF CHRIST, FOR IT 18 THE POWER OF GOD 
 UNTO SALVATION TO EVERT ONE THAT BELIEVETH. 
 
 The gospel of Christ comprehends the record of his active 
 as well as his passive obedience. His virtues were essential 
 to the efficacy of his sufferings. His redemptive mission 
 presupposes, and thus involves, his personal character. His 
 atonement is not separate from, but is Jtmiself in his humili- 
 ating acts, especially in his final sacrifice. Therefore the 
 gospel of Christ comprehends the narrative of all his words 
 and deeds, — pre-eminently of all his pains, — of their meaning, 
 of their worth, of their results. The results of his death are 
 a part of his history ; for he designed and is now securing 
 them. The worth of his deeds and pains is a part of his 
 history ; for it is inseparable from his voluntary union of 
 the finite with the infinite. The meaning of his life and 
 death is a part of his history ; it is the soul of which his 
 individual works are the expressive body. 
 
 In the most general as well as analytical view, then, the 
 writer of our text affirms that he is not ashamed of the 
 facts in the entire life of Jesus ; for they are fitted, in the 
 divine wisdom, to exercise a controlling influence over the 
 mind and heart. Hence it will be the aim of the ensuing 
 discourse — an aim faintly reached — to specify a few ele- 
 
 1 Preached September 28, 1852, at the Installation of the Rev. Leonard Swain 
 [D.D.] as Pastor of the Central Congregational Church in Providence, R. I. 
 
98 THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 ments of the power exerted on the human soul by the history 
 of the Redeemer. 
 
 And first, the power of the Redeemer's history is seen in 
 the number of sensibilities affected by it. All the passive 
 virtues are fostered in view of it, for it is an illustration of 
 patience, fortitude, meekness ; but the active virtues likewise 
 are elicited by it, for it is the brightest display of resolution, 
 courage. We speak of a man's temperament as denoting 
 one class of peculiarities ; but in no such meaning do we 
 speak of a temperament in Jesus, for no such partial develop- 
 ment belonged to him. His was a temperament in the 
 original sense of the word — a perfect attempering of all the 
 virtues in one harmonious and exquisitely balanced whole. 
 We can with ease conceive of one man who tenderly rocks 
 the cradle of a sick infant, but has not the nerve to act as 
 a judge, and pronounce sentence upon a criminal. We can 
 imagine another well qualified to sit on the bench of justice, 
 but unfitted to sympathize with the weaknesses of children, 
 still less with the frailties of vicious outcasts. We may form 
 a consistent idea of a tender-hearted mother or sister, but so 
 we do not think of her as leading an army to the battle-field, 
 or executing the sentence of martial law upon a prisoner 
 whom she loves. But Christ, so full and capacious is his 
 excellence, can be readily imagined as cherishing all the 
 virtues of a child, parent, brother, friend, neighbor, coun- 
 sellor, man, woman. All relations in life are exhausted to 
 make out his character. We can readily image him forth as 
 taking up infants in his arms, and as braiding a whip of 
 small cords to drive market-men from the temple ; as shed- 
 ding tears at the tomb-door of a fellow-mortal, and as a 
 captain of the militant host, a conqueror triumphing over 
 armies which had been invincible to all but him ; as a com- 
 panion of publicans and sinners, and as the strict judge not 
 of one offender only, but of all men ; not of foes merely, but 
 of friends likewise. In his atoning work he displayed all 
 
THE POWER OP THE GOSPEL. 99 
 
 the virtues of a peacemaker, and of a hero who sends a sword 
 over the earth ; of a friend so intellectual that he is called 
 our advocate, so compassionate that he is called our inter- 
 cessor, so mild that he is called a lamb — the Lamb; while 
 he is an executive officer so stern that he is called the lion 
 of the tribe of Judah. 
 
 It is because the virtue of the Redeemer is thus many- 
 sided that it always possesses a freshness of interest. No- 
 where and at no time does the rehearsal, how tame soever, 
 of his charities fail to touch some one of the thousand chords 
 vibrating in the human bosom. He was one of the olden 
 time ; but moderns are interested in him, perhaps more than 
 if he were a contemporary. He died a young man; he 
 never outgrew the fervor and the ingenuousness of young 
 men ; he meant to die in sympathy with early manhood ; 
 yet it is the aged who feel the deepest need of his guidance. 
 He lived and died poor ; he left his own mother to the charities 
 of a disciple ; still, he is the best model for all rich men. 
 The charms of an ordinary person and an ordinary act are 
 soon exhausted ; but, although the simplest child may be 
 ravished with the love of Jesus, the most far-seeing philoso- 
 pher will search in it for more and still more of that breadth 
 and length and depth and height and richness which after 
 all pass our finite study. 
 
 It is because the adaptation of our Redeemer's history to 
 our varying states is multiform that, although good men 
 sometimes regard themselves as excluded from the sympathy 
 of their brethren, they may still look up to their Redeemer 
 as enfolding each of them in his comprehensive love. Hence 
 every believer is apt to regard the atonement as made ex- 
 pressly for himself. Jesus on the cross has this peculiar 
 characteristic of a good portrait, that he fixes his eye upon 
 every man, every woman, every child, in every generation, 
 who beholds him. As he turned and looked upon Peter, so 
 he turns and looks upon every disciple, rough and erring as 
 he may be. Therefore does every lowly mind exclaim, My 
 
100 THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 Lord, and my God ! Therefore does every stricken penitent 
 feel that the atoning blood was shed for himself individually^ 
 and that it would have been shed for him had he been the 
 only sinner in the universe. Therefore does the untutored 
 Indian, as well as the deep-read philosopher, sing, from a 
 full, grieved heart : 
 
 " I saw one Banging on a tree, 
 In agony and blood, 
 Who fixed his languid eyes on me 
 As near the cross I stood. 
 
 Sure, never till my latest breath 
 
 Can I forget that look ; 
 It seemed to charge me with his death, 
 
 Though not a word he spoke." 
 
 Secondly, the power of the Redeemer's history is illustrated 
 by the proportion in which it addresses our different sensi- 
 bilities. It modifies one feeling so that it may hold the 
 needful check upon a second. It so adjusts our emotions to 
 each other as to secure the strongest impulse for those which 
 are the healthiest. Many of our sensibilities are elevating, 
 invigorating ; they inspire as well as strengthen the soul for 
 labor. Others are depressing ; they discourage the mind, 
 enfeeble it. Now the atonement, while it expands itself so 
 as to touch the whole soul, makes its prominent appeal to 
 the more animating emotions. It portrays to us a friend 
 who was tempted in all points as we are ; who took upon 
 himself our frail nature that he might sympathize with our 
 infirmities ; who was exposed, as no one before or since his 
 day has been, to the stratagems of principalities and powers, 
 working with a special earnestness during his troubled mis- 
 sion to this world. Every moment of his life was critical. 
 The destinies of an entire race were dependent on each one 
 of his moral acts. Had he yielded for a single instant to 
 the ingenious, insinuating, or overbearing appliances of the 
 tempter, he would have lost the whole object of his errand 
 on earth. With this weight of responsibility pressing down 
 
THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 101 
 
 upon him and threatening to overpower him, with legions of 
 adverse spirits aiming to enervate his moral principle, with 
 the aids of heaven suddenly and even specially withdrawn 
 from him at the very moment of his signal need, he pressed 
 on alone, ever steadfast, true to his Father's will ; ever firm, 
 valiant in his struggle against temptation ; and he now 
 summons us to imitate him in resisting the influences of 
 evil. Had he remained sitting on his throne in the heavens, 
 and ever and anon sending down messengers who would 
 exhort us to a self-denial which he himself had never prac- 
 tised, he would not as now have stirred our spirit to endure 
 hardness as good soldiers. But he came himself as our 
 captain, and now he seems to go with the standard in his 
 hand, and take and bear in his own person the brunt of the 
 conflict, and open the way for us to follow. And will troops 
 desert their commander who rushes into the very front, the 
 very thickest of the battle ? This were not the chivalry of 
 a soldier. It is to the soldier's sense of honor that the 
 Captain of our salvation makes his most invigorating appeal. 
 When one of the French marshals had vainly endeavored for 
 some hours to make his regiments storm an Arab fort, from 
 whose low walls they were each time repulsed by the terrible fire 
 of the enemy within, the marshal caused three of his bravest 
 warriors to take him up and throw him bodily over the wall. 
 " My men will follow me," he said. And they did follow 
 him, and in five minutes had cleared the fort of the enemy. 
 And " I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ," for it is 
 the record of a hero who himself plunged into the perils to 
 which he called his followers. These perils he encountered 
 so that he might offer heaven to us freely, generously ; and 
 so he asks of us, what it were meanness to refuse, that we 
 accept heaven itself, without money and without price. Thus 
 does he touch our gratitude — a motive-power the deepest 
 perhaps in its working, and the very last to fail. This grati- 
 tude involves and induces joy; the evangelical spirit is 
 distinctively Imoyant, and the joy of the Lord is our strength. 
 
102 THE POWEB OP THE GOSPEL. 
 
 Simple despair is weakness ; mere terror turns the man 
 pale ; but trust in Jesus keeps these depressing emotions 
 just where they should be — subordinate. It does not extir- 
 pate, — that were unwise, — but it does regulate all the 
 enfeebling sentiments. It nerves the timid spirit for ex- 
 ploits. " This is the victory that overcometh the world, even 
 our faith." Strong, resolute are the men whoso hearty motto 
 is, We love God, because he first and so loved us. That is a 
 healthy character which is formed not by compunction alone, 
 nor by hope alone, but by the commingling of penitence for 
 sin with assurance of its being forgiven. The faith illumines 
 what the grief deepens, and both the sorrow and the trust 
 are set over against each other in fit balance by the life of 
 him who is the model of proportion in all the virtues. 
 
 Thirdly, the power of the Redeemer's history is seen in 
 the fact of its addressing our sensibilities at the time of 
 their greatest need. It is so broad in its associations with 
 both our duty and our interest that it suggests to the mind 
 exactly what is demanded, and when it is most demanded. 
 If an unwarranted hilarity indispose us for sober duties, we 
 are reproved by the crown of thorns. If an unauthorized 
 gloom deter us from wise effort, we are rebuked by the 
 words, " In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I 
 thank thee, Father." He who was meek and lowly is 
 suggested to us by our pride. Our self-confidence reminds 
 us of him who prayed with strong crying and tears. When 
 the indignation of Robert Hall was once inflamed in a debate, 
 he left the circle of his opposers, hastened to his window, 
 and, smiting on his breast, repeated and reiterated the 
 entreaty, " Lamb of God, Lamb of God, calm my perturbed 
 spirit." 
 
 It is in our dilapidated state, when our feelings are most 
 susceptible, that the character and work of Christ make their 
 most effective appeal. He comes with resistless strength 
 to the soul fainting through want of him, and he thus leads 
 
THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 103 
 
 captivity captive. It is after a lengthened reflection on our 
 sins that our spirit is melted within us like wax, so that the 
 image of Jesus may be enstamped upon it. Precisely in the 
 instant of terror, when the affrighted one stretches forth his 
 bands for some sure stay, the arm of Jesus is held out close 
 to the hands just ready to receive it. No sooner has the 
 widow felt the last breath of her earthly protector, than she 
 leans on the side of him who was not sent save to the weary 
 and troubled and lost ones of the house of Israel. Here is 
 the expansiveness of his excellence, that he is the dearest 
 when our chosen friends foBsake us, as his disciples forsook 
 him and fled. This is the elasticity of his grace, that it 
 stretches out the farthest when we are in our extremity of 
 gloom. Versatile and opportune must have been his love ; 
 so many a sunburnt slave has felt himself to be a freeman 
 under its power, so many a student has been healed of his 
 mental diseases under its gentle sway, so many a seaman 
 on his night-watch has turned his eye to his Redeemer as to 
 his guiding star, so many a sick man has been revived by it 
 as by a breath of air upon his parched brow, so many a 
 dying penitent has been enlivened by it and amid his faint- 
 ness of body has seemed to be marching to his grave like a 
 soldier in the hour of triumph. The timeliness of the 
 Saviour's aid in giving us the greater peace when we have 
 the intenser need of it, has made our Christian life a paradox ; 
 and we are portrayed by the sacred pencil " as unknown, and 
 yet well known ; as dying, and behold we live ; as chastened, 
 and not killed ; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing ; as poor, 
 yet making many rich ; as having nothing, and yet possessing 
 all things." And Jesus Christ is at one time our physician ; 
 at another, our sunlight ; here, a tree with healing leaves ; 
 there, a fountain with refreshing streams ; sometimes our 
 nutriment, our bread, meat ; sometimes our stimulus, the wino 
 making the heart glad ; now, a resting-place for us ; then, a 
 comfort for us, even as a lily or a rose ; here, the head from 
 which our life comes ; there, our strength, our very life 
 itself. 
 
104 THM POWER OP THE GOSPEL. 
 
 Fourthly, the power of the Redeemer's history is seen iu 
 the fact that it communicates truth in the form of a personal 
 favor. It insinuates right doctrine into the mind by smoothing 
 the passage through the heart. When our missionaries heal 
 the sick in any barbarian tribe, they prepare the way for 
 unfolding the gospel to the relieved sufferer. The apostles 
 wrought miracles for their hearers, and thus opened an 
 avenue through which the truth might glide into the affec- 
 tions of the father, mother, brother, and sister who had their 
 dead restored to them. But our Redeemer lived for us, and 
 he died for us. His comprehensive charities associate them- 
 selves with all his truth, and commend it to our grateful 
 love. We choose to believe in the divinity of Christ; for 
 this qualifies him to work out for us an infinite redemption, 
 to be, just what our souls need, an almighty Saviour. We 
 are willing to confess our entire sinfulness by nature ; for 
 this gives emphasis to the mercy of him who died for our 
 cleansing. Why should we not admit our need of regenera- 
 tion ? for this illustrates the value of that death by which the 
 renewing Spirit was purchased for us. We must allow the 
 eternity of future punishment ; for this magnifies the grace 
 of him who bore its equivalent in his own body on the tree. 
 Shall we revolt at the suspension of our interests upon the 
 first Adam, while he is a type of the second Adam, who has 
 more than restored the ruins of Eden ? Can any man com- 
 plain of the divine sovereignty exercised by him who searches 
 out the fatherless children, the lost sheep, the forsaken, the 
 tearful, the weak, the sick ? We are predisposed, there is 
 no logical fault in our preferring, to believe every doctrine, 
 stern as it may be, which sets in bold relief the love of a 
 friend dying for us while we were his enemies, and because 
 we were his enemies. That atoning love refines the point 
 and smooths the edge of all truths, opens and lubricates the 
 way for them to slide into the soul, which in excluding them 
 would wrong itself, and which insures its own honor by a 
 faith in the most humiliating revelations. Therefore is it 
 
THE POWER OP THE GOSPEL, 105 
 
 the general voice of history, that if a man believe in the full 
 meaning of Christ's death he will cherish a faith in the 
 entire gospel. For the sake of one truth, the source of his 
 chief refreshment, he welcomes all related truths, adverse as 
 they may be to his self-esteem and self-will. 
 
 Fifthly, the power of the Redeemer's history is seen in its 
 vivifying the truth by sensible images. It conveys the most 
 abstract lessons in a visible form. It exposes doctrines in a 
 picture. Therefore, although it can task all, it need tax 
 none. Although it may instruct by a demonstration, it may 
 also dispense with proof by the lucidness of its diagram. 
 The human sensibilities are so made that truth is the most 
 quickly as well as deeply impressed upon them in its concrete 
 form. It was taught first by history. Children now learn 
 it from narratives. Men attended with a heartless admiration 
 to the eloquence of Chalmers when he unfolded a philosoph- 
 ical morality ; but their tears were his reward just as soon 
 as he held up the model of all virtue, arrayed in the sacri- 
 ficial vestments. The Greenlander listened with the coldness 
 of the ice around him to the exact ethics which were explained 
 as clearly as the moonbeams illumining his path; but he 
 melted at the words of the Moravian telling of Gethsemane. 
 Into the dens of the German barbarians was sent the story 
 of the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world ; 
 and the stern warrior, who would have blunted his mind 
 against all logic, was softened by the piteous tale ; and while 
 weltering in his own blood on the field of carnage, he raised 
 his eyes to heaven, and thought of the cross, and smiled, and 
 died in peace. Amid the faintings of tlie last hour a man 
 has no strength for performing a dialectical process ; but he 
 has strength enough to feel the eloquence of Jesus hanging 
 on the tree. The hard worn laborer is not fitted to end his 
 toilsome day with abstruse meditations ; but he is fitted to 
 rest himseK by leaning on the bosom which sustained the 
 beloved disciple. There are instances on record — two at 
 
106 THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 least — of old men, old ministers, who had outlived their 
 mental powers, had forgotten the kindnesses and the faces of 
 their friends, forgotten their own names even, and when asked 
 whether they remembered anything at all, replied that they 
 could call to mind one Jesus Christ, who was dead, but rose 
 again, and now, as they have always heard, has their names 
 written on the palm of his hand. " I am the truth," said 
 Jesus — the truth personified, its evanescent features made 
 tangible, its airy spirit embodied. Not in vain for the human 
 intellect was the buffet of the Jew upon the face of the meek 
 Redeemer. Not in vain for the intellect, as well as feelings, 
 were the crown of thorns, the nail, and the spear ; for all 
 these sharp instruments have delineated upon our iron 
 hearts a scheme of doctrine which cannot be worn away. 
 Men may forget much ; but they will never forget the sub- 
 limest truth, taught in the simplest form by one who was 
 himself an embodied charity, and whose whole life was one 
 lengthened interposition for our eternal welfare. And I, 
 saith Jesus, " if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto me." 
 In the moral world, though not in the material. Calvary is 
 an exceeding great and high mountain, broad to the view, 
 visible in the farthest horizon, catching the eye of pilgrims 
 as they start on their perilous way, and attracting to itself 
 their last, lingering gaze. Thither will the young men and 
 the old, the deaf, the blind, the lame, the athletic, the feeble- 
 minded and the strong, the ignorant and the learned, — thither 
 will all the tribes go up, with songs and everlasting joy. 
 
 Sixthly, the power of the Redeemer's history is manifested 
 in the contrasts which it presents. Nearly everything that 
 is efficacious is made up of opposing elements. It is the 
 harmonizing of extreme notes in the gamut which gives to 
 music its spell. The blending of opposite colors makes the 
 canvas breathe as if life were in it. In magnetism, elec- 
 tricity, galvanism, the mightiest results ensue from the com- 
 bined action of mutually repellent forces. The life of Jesus 
 
THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 107 
 
 has a kind of magical sway over us, because there Hes 
 wrapped up in even its simplest incidents something which 
 we did not expect — a symmetry of virtue which never met 
 in one mind before or since his day. 
 
 In general, men, even seK-made men, bear the impress of 
 the circle in which they move familiarly. Christ appeared 
 in a rude age, and in a land despised more than almost any 
 other. No academy or lyceum aided his upward progress, 
 yet the most curious philosophers are now prying into his 
 hidden wisdom. He lingered in the company of very prosaic 
 brothers, James and Joses and Simon and Judas ; and his 
 sisters — not even their names are preserved, and we are 
 inclined to think that they were unimaginative, unpoetical 
 Nazarenes ; but now the most refined poets immortalize 
 themselves by sketching even the outline of his sentiments 
 in verse. He spent none of his time in roaming through 
 galleries of the fine arts ; but all the genius of Raphael and 
 Guido is used up in imparting even a faint impression of the 
 grace that sat upon him. He mingled with men as their 
 physician, counsellor, friend, brother ; but still he lived and 
 died indigent and alone. In the densest crowd there was a 
 vacant circle drawn around him ; he dwelt apart, like that 
 star that shone aloof from all other stars, and no one could 
 divine the meaning of its rays except a few wise men who 
 were not ashamed to lay down their gifts of gold, frank- 
 incense, and myrrh before the child in the manger. 
 
 He felt an unprecedented reverence for the Old Testament 
 and yet he instituted a New Testament which was to eclipse 
 the lustre of the Old. He loved his Father with an unpar- 
 alleled devotion, but how tender was his love for men who 
 hated both him and his Father also. He was more sensitive 
 than any other mortal to the honor of Jehovah, but without 
 one word of explanation exposed the alarming fact that he was 
 forsaken in the hour of his deepest need. His abhorrence for 
 sin was equal to his tenderness of compassion for the sinner. 
 He was the most amiable of mankind ; and he said to the 
 
108 THE POWEE OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 theologians of his native land : " Ye serpents, ye generation 
 of vipers ; how can ye escape the damnation of hell ? " He 
 was the mildest and gentlest of his race ; but some of the 
 severest denunciations in the Bible came from his lips, and 
 no preacher has ever threatened everlasting punishment 
 with an energy so truly fearful as his. He was modest, but 
 exclaimed " I am the light of the world." He was the very 
 lowliest of all men, and yet he cried out : " He that cometh 
 to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall 
 never thirst." He lost the confidence of his nation because 
 he was so unassuming, yet he went so far as to command 
 men to love him. It were a little peculiar for one man to 
 require others to esteem himseK ; but this man, meek and 
 lowly, required of the whole race, in all time, that they give 
 him not homage only, but affection even; — not mere, but 
 supreme affection. Strict in fulfilling all righteousness, he 
 yet justified his disciples in plucking the ears of corn on the 
 Sabbath. Stern in avoiding even the appearance of evil, he 
 associated with sinners, publicans, and harlots. Prizing the 
 virtues of domestic life, he yet remained during his public 
 ministry without a home. He was a model of every excel- 
 lence ; yet what virtuous man, if he must feel the influence of 
 evil companions, would dare to give up the attractions of 
 his own family and live without a home ? He commanded 
 " If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out," and the Son of 
 man came eating and drinking. He seemed to be absorbed 
 in the realities of eternity ; solemn and profound were his 
 revelations of the other world ; yet he had compassion on the 
 multitude because they had nothing to eat. It is singular, 
 the variety of miracles he performed for the hunger-stricken 
 of his race. He suspended the eternal condition of men on 
 giving a cup of cold water to a disciple ; and before the assem- 
 bled universe he will declare, aggrandizing, as is his wont, 
 the little by a union with the great, ' I was an hungered and 
 ye gave me meat, I was athirst and ye gave me drink, 
 therefore come ye blessed into the kingdom prepared for 
 
THE POWER OP THE GOSPEL. 109 
 
 you.' He had all the affections of a man, and even cried out 
 " I thirst," at an hour which was to be celebrated through 
 all time the world over — an hour when men of affectation 
 would think it wiser to say nothing of physical wants — an 
 hour when he was bearing up in his own person the interests 
 of a whole race, and at the same time was willing to honor a 
 bodily sense ; but all his corporeal appetites he spiritualized 
 into a beauty too delicate for us to appreciate, and all the 
 extremes of human virtue he blended, like all the varying 
 notes of the organ, into one anthem of harmonious praise. 
 
 But, says Napoleon Buonaparte ' I know men,' — as much 
 as to say, ' I have sounded the depths of men in court and 
 in camp, I have measured the littleness of men, I have 
 gauged the hoUowness of men, I have felt the weakness 
 of men, I have seen and proved the end of all the capabili- 
 ties of men, I have threshed them and beaten them small 
 as the chaff of the summer floor, I have driven them before 
 me as the wind sweepeth the dry leaves of the forest — and 
 thus I know men, and I tell you that Jesus of Nazareth was 
 not a man.' 
 
 But Jesus of Nazareth was a man, and this occasions the 
 most inspiriting contrasts in his life. He was laid in a 
 manger, and borne in the arms of his youtliful mother, and 
 afterwards affirmed, " Before Abraham was, I am." He was 
 the son of a mechanic, was himself a carpenter, yet "by him 
 were all things created visible and invisible." He knew 
 neither the day nor the hour when the holy city was to be 
 destroyed, but saith, " I am he that searcheth the reins and 
 trieth the hearts of the children of men," and he did not re- 
 ject the praise of his disciple, "Lord thou knowest all things." 
 He was even unable to carry his own cross, and they laid 
 hold of a strong man coming into the city out of the country, 
 and compelled him to relieve the feeble sufferer who was 
 then upholding, as he is now upholding all things by the 
 word of his power, and by him did then, as do now, all things 
 consist. He submitted to the Roman government, bad as it 
 
110 THE POWER OP THE GOSPEL. 
 
 was ; he yielded mute obedience to Pilate and Herod ; he 
 wrought a miracle in order to pay his taxes to the Jewish 
 rulers ; and this is the meek sufferer who " shall come in 
 his glory, and all the holy angels with him, and then shall 
 he sit upon the throne of his glory, and before him shall be 
 gathered all nations." 
 
 There is a suggestive series of responses going to and fro 
 between the prophets of the Old Testament and the his- 
 torians of the New. The historians tell us that the afflicted 
 man exclaimed in words meaning far more than at first they 
 seem to mean : My soul is exceeding sorrowful, so that it 
 seems as if I should die under my pain. Stay with me, watch 
 with with me, for I cannot be left alone. He went forward 
 a few rods, and fell down with his face upon the ground and 
 prayed three several times in a mysterious affliction, throwing 
 his soul on the naked omnipotence of God as all that could 
 rescue him. But it is this man, overborne, prostrate, sobbing 
 aloud, to whom the old prophet exclaims in joy ; " Gird thy 
 sword upon thy thigh, most Mighty, with thy glory and 
 thy majesty ; and in thy majesty ride prosperously, and thy 
 right hand shall teach thee terrible things." 
 
 " And being in an agony," saith the historian, " he prayed 
 more earnestly, and his sweat was as it were drops of 
 blood falling to the ground." But saith the Psalmist, " Thy 
 throne, God, is forever and ever. Thou lovest righteous- 
 ness and hatest wickedness ; therefore [0] God, thy God, 
 hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows. 
 All thy garments smell of myrrh and aloes and cassia out of 
 ivory palaces, whereby they have made thee glad." 
 
 " When the poor and needy seek water and there is none, 
 and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them," 
 so saith He who is ever faithful to his vows ; and I, saith 
 the Psalmist, " I have been young and now I am old, yet 
 have I not seen the righteous forsaken nor his seed begging 
 bread." But " my God," was the bitter exclamation of him 
 who had never forfeited his Father's promise ; " my God," 
 
THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. Ill 
 
 was he left to cry who had ever been careful for his Father's 
 name, why are all these vows forgotten ? " why hast thou for- 
 saken me ?" Here was a seeming rupture of the everlasting 
 covenant which had been ordered in all things and sure. 
 
 And Pilate marvelled that he was already dead; for it 
 was not usual for prisoners to die so early ; even the thieves 
 who were crucified with him still held out under their pains. 
 And when he breathed forth his troubled spirit, he disap- 
 pointed the hopes of those who trusted that it had been he 
 who should redeem Israel. His enemies said : He is gone ; it 
 is all over with him ; the last has now been heard of him ; he 
 is not only dead but slain ; nor only slain, but slain on the 
 cross ; nor only slain on the cross, but crucified between two 
 robbers : yet this despised and rejected man says of liimseK 
 in more than royal words : "I am Alpha and Omega, the 
 beginning and the ending ; wliich is and was, and which is 
 to come, the Almighty, the first and the last. I am he that 
 liveth and was dead, and behold I am alive forevermore." 
 
 It is a marvel that he died so soon, that with all his rich 
 stores of wisdom, he was continued on the earth not more 
 than three and thirty years — did he then come as a mere 
 teacher ? — that with all his fitness to be an example he re- 
 mained in public life not more than three years, through 
 which he kept himself hidden in great part from the world, 
 — did he live then as a mere exemplar ? It is a marvel 
 that he who came for the purpose of giving help to the race 
 needed help for himseH, and sought it from men who could 
 not give it ; that his Father not only withdrew the needed 
 aid from the Son, but is described with peculiar emphasis 
 as having smitten him. We read that Herod cast John 
 into prison, and Saul persecuted the church, but Jehovah 
 put his anointed one to grief, and it pleased the Lord to 
 bruise him who was " delivered by the determinate counsel 
 and foreknowledge of God." The more we contemplate the 
 man of sorrows as spending his life in want and ending it 
 in dishonor, so much the more do we triumph in him, — and 
 
112 THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 his church conquers by the sign of his cross. From the 
 fact that the only perfect man who ever lived was " made 
 sin," even " a curse for us," and that the shame of his death 
 became his power, we derive a new assurance that he must 
 have had a nature distinct from the one which became so 
 feeble. He is the only being in the universe of whom we 
 take delight in thinking that " by his stripes we are healed " ; 
 and this thought adds a yet more sacred meaning to the 
 truth that he who atoned for us is God blessed forever. 
 
 " A truth so strange ! 't were bold to think it true, 
 If not far bolder still to disbelieve." 
 
 Seventhly, the power of the Redeemer's history is developed 
 in the fact that it is the centre of so many and of such mys- 
 terious truths. It is a globe of truth, and holds revolving 
 around it a constellation of various and contrasted doctrines. 
 If Jesus be the Creator of men and the child of Abraham, 
 then he is fitted to be the Mediator between us and our 
 offended Lawgiver ; then we are in a brotherhood vdth him 
 who sitteth at the right hand of the Majesty on high ; then 
 the church is ennobled into a body of kings and priests, the 
 brethren of their Lord ; then the highest dignity of the soul 
 is gained by its union with the Messiah ; then this soul is of 
 immense worth ; then all sin in such a mind must be " ex- 
 ceeding sinful " ; then it deserves everlasting ruin ; then the 
 work of saving us from such ruin must be infinite ; then 
 there must be an atonement made by one who exhibits aU 
 the contrasts of a divine and human nature ; and here we 
 come to the focal point whither all the rays of truth converge. 
 And I am not ashamed of this central truth. 
 
 If such an atonement has been made, then there must be 
 perfect majesty in the law, purity in its commands, justice in 
 its threatenings ; then we should be reconciled to such a law ; 
 then we need to be regenerated by the Third Person in the 
 Trinity, who is sent as a Paraclete by the Second Person ; 
 then, requiring such a regeneration, we must have been 
 
THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 113 
 
 entirely sinful ; then by one man s disobedience many were 
 made sinners ; and thus we come around again to our 
 starting-point, that by the obedience of one shall many be 
 made righteous. And I am not ashamed of starting from 
 this truth, and coming back to it. 
 
 " For as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made 
 alive " ; and if Christ be not raised, then we are not raised ; 
 and if we receive the power of his resurrection, then we must 
 have felt the power of his death ; and thus, again, proceed 
 from this truth whichever way we will, we come back to it 
 at last. And I am not ashamed of this truth, the first and 
 the last. It is the central truth, approached from all points 
 and through numberless avenues. 
 
 There is a power not only in the multitude of doctrines 
 clustering in the history of Jesus, but also in their mysterious 
 nature. The mind was made for mysteries. It has an 
 instinct for them. It looks up to them, and round about 
 after them. It is awed, humbled, yet quickened by them. 
 From the very depths of the soul comes up a demand for 
 truths that shall be elevated above our facile and perfect 
 comprehension. No teachings retain our permanent interest 
 unless they make a life-long appeal to our curiosity. 
 
 How can transgressors be pardoned ? and if they be, 
 how can they feel repose in accepting kindness from a 
 Sovereign whose very grace they have disdained ? This is 
 the problem which has excited the curiosity of the ages. 
 Will not the bounties of an insulted King sharpen the 
 remorse of sensitive men, as they feel the baseness of their 
 guilt? With a keen sense of honor, can they be at rest 
 under the new burden of obligations which their blessedness 
 in heaven will ever impose upon them — obligations which 
 they can never discharge, even by an eternity of gratitude 
 and praise ? How can they remember every one of their 
 former sins, and never shed one single tear in view of them? 
 The query has been raised : On what principle can a merciful 
 God punish men forever ? But there is a question stiU more 
 
114 THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 difficult to answer : On what principle can a holy God ever 
 save men from all their regret and shame and remorse? 
 The mystery of the atonement is, that it quickens, purifies, 
 and at the same time stills and relieves the moral sense, and 
 so commendeth God's love to us that our ill-desert only 
 augments our pleasure in his forgiving it, and the great- 
 ness of our former sins only inflames our gratitude to him 
 who rejoices to reward us as if we had uniformly obeyed 
 the law. 
 
 Still, the question remains: How has this marvel been 
 effected ? In what sense and way could he who wrought out 
 so great a mystery have been left alone while working it ? 
 Wliat was that wonder in heaven which forced him to exclaim, 
 in the hearing of his enemies, that his own God, who had 
 sworn never to desert his friends, had yet deserted him ? 
 What were the feelings of Jehovah, what did he do, at the 
 moment of and before that outcry of the forsaken sufferer ? 
 How, how long, wherein did he manifest such a displeasure 
 in view of our sins as overwhelmed the Son with a grief 
 deeper than our remorse ? Throngs of thoughts like these 
 add a mysterious sublimity to the scene in which the world's 
 redemption was wrought out. Oh, could we, by the rich blessing 
 of Almighty God, be so gifted as to learn more of the particulars 
 of the way of reconciling a poor, rebellious race to offended 
 justice ! 0/i, could we pry into the hidden record of the events 
 which followed each other in heaven during those hours when 
 the veil of the temple was rent from the top to the bottom, 
 and the graves were opened, and the dead came forth ! Let 
 not the Lord be angry, but we would ask whether the songs 
 of heaven were still going on as aforetime when the Father 
 hid his face from one who was inquiring with a loud voice 
 for the reasons — the prompting and justifying cause — why 
 that face was hidden. Let not the Lord be angry ; but we 
 long to know whether there was no check to the anthems of 
 the angels when they heard the sound of the drawing of the 
 sword of God in heaven, and he lifted it up against the man 
 
THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 115 
 
 that was his fellow, and said : " I will smite the Shepherd, 
 and the sheep shall be scattered." Was it then, as well as 
 afterward, that there was silence in heaven for the space of 
 half an hour ? Or did more than twelve legions of angels 
 hasten down, — a cloud of witnesses, cohort after cohort, 
 squadron piled on squadron, — amazed to see this great 
 sight, the baptism which the Son was baptized with, and how 
 was he straitened till it was accomplished ? 
 
 It is thickly covered over from our sight. Aptly does the 
 historian say, " There was darkness over all the land, from 
 the sixth hour unto the ninth." A veil was drawn before 
 the windows of heaven which remaineth untaken away until 
 this present ; and the secrets of the atoning sacrifice are 
 locked up amid the treasures of the knowledge of God, which 
 things the angels desire to look into, but now are they hidden 
 from even the eyes of the angels ; which things we shall be 
 learning more distinctly and more gladly while our minds 
 are expanding in their compass and rising to loftier heights 
 in knowledge through our eternal life. In the darkness of 
 these mysteries is the hiding of the power of Jehovah. 
 
 These mysteries take a hold upon the intellect of man 
 when he would, if he could, escape from them. There is no 
 remission for our intellectual wants without the shedding of 
 blood. The cravings of our religious nature can be appeased 
 by no other name given under heaven than the name of the 
 Lamb slain. So long as man retains either the mental or 
 the moral organization which Heaven gave him, he must be 
 sensitive to the power of this doctrine : that the comprehen- 
 sive Being who illustrated all truth, even as every science 
 reflects light upon him ; that he who adorned all the virtues, 
 even as every grace was radiant in him ; that he whom all 
 the angels of God worshipped was willing to pay the price in 
 order that we may obtain the purchase, to wear the thorns 
 in order that we may wear the crown. The interest in other 
 themes will soon evanesce ; but this truth, so long as the 
 human sensibilities endure, wiU retain its power to cheer the 
 
116 THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL. 
 
 soul in poverty, in persecution, under bereavement, in sick- 
 ness, at the hour of d^ath ; for at that saddening hour for 
 ■which our services on the Sabbath and in the sanctuary ought 
 to be preparing us more and more, the weary traveller whose 
 life has been baptized with the spirit of Jesus is divinely 
 helped to look higher than to his own sins, and to exclaim : 
 " I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I 
 have kept the faith " — yet not I, but the grace of Christ that 
 is in me ; and now " I am persuaded that neither death nor 
 life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things 
 present, nor things to come ; neither height, nor depth, nor 
 any other creature shall be able to separate me from the 
 love of Christ Jesus my Lord " ; for I am not now, in my 
 last hours, as I was not in my brightest days, — no, nor ever 
 shall be, — ashamed of the gospel of Christ ; for it is the 
 power of God and the wisdom of God to every poor dying 
 sinner that believeth. 
 
UNION WITH CHRIST/ 
 
 I CORINTHIANS VI. 17. 
 
 BUT HE THAT 18 JOINED TTNTO THE LORD IS ONE SPIEIT. 
 
 In these words we are taught that believers in Christ are 
 one spirit with him. In various other scriptures, and in 
 forms diversified as by a kaleidoscope, we are taught the same 
 truth. It is plain to all that real believers have the same 
 spirit with their Lord, but it appears enigmatical to some that 
 they are the same spirit with him. They have not a numerical 
 union of essence with him, the same which exists between the 
 persons in the Trinity. Our Saviour used the pronoun " I " 
 as denoting himself personally united with the Father. We 
 may apply to him the pronoun " Thou," as denoting himself 
 personally united with the Holy Ghost. But we cannot 
 speak of Christians as having this complete and personal 
 oneness with their Redeemer. In what relations, then, are 
 good men joined to their Lord, and one spirit with him? 
 The object of the present discourse is to answer the question. 
 In what relations are good men united with Christ ? 
 
 1. The first relation to be named is this : They have in 
 some degree the same specific nature and character with 
 their Lord. Partially they are one with him in the kind 
 of their powers and their moral character. There is some- 
 thing essential in their oneness with him ; for they have 
 
 1 A sermon preached October 24, 1854, at the Ordination of Rev. George P. 
 Fisher [D.D.], as Pastor of the Church iu Yale College, New Haven, Conn. 
 
118 UNION WITH CHEIST. 
 
 an essential resemblance to him. He was made flesh and 
 dwelt among us. The angels have no physical resemblance 
 to the offspring of David. We are united to him bj a link 
 which they, or at least the larger part of them, have never 
 felt. Perhaps we are the only class of minds who will in 
 heaven be embodied like the Redeemer. That he might be 
 " touched with the feeling of our infirmities," " it behoved 
 him to be made like unto his brethren " in his human spirit 
 as well as body — not only to eat and drink, sleep and wake, 
 but also to learn and forget, to rejoice and grieve, as we do. 
 An inferior degree, indeed, but still a like sort of union, have 
 we with his divine essence. This is the honor put upon our 
 minds. We can apprehend but little of his intelligence, save 
 as it is an infinite extension of an intelligence like our own. 
 We can form no definite idea of his powers, except as they 
 are similar in nature, though infinitely superior in measure, 
 to the faculties which he has given us. But it may be replied 
 that with this interpretation Christ is one with all men, 
 unrenewed as well as renewed. In a special way, however, 
 is he united with his followers ; for their views of truth are 
 like his, their emotions in regard to it are like his, their 
 aims on account of it are like his. They love what he loves, 
 hate what he hates, rejoice in that which pleases him, regret 
 all that offends him ; and their love, hatred, joy, and dis- 
 pleasure have the same nature, as well as the same object, 
 with his intenser feelings. Benevolence is their spirit, and 
 his likewise ; they are one then in breathing the same 
 breath. So the apostle often describes not only the consti- 
 tution, but also the character, of godly men (lience they are 
 called godly) as an image of the divine ; and every likeness 
 has, in some regard, a unity with the object it represents. 
 Pointing to Caesar's image, men cry out, That is Caesar. 
 The enraptured visitor says of Pompey's statue. That is 
 Pompey. We would not deface the portrait of a friend ; we 
 should feel therein as if we offered insult to the friend him- 
 self. Whoso hurteth the least of those that believe in Jesus 
 
UNION WITH CHRIST. 119 
 
 doeth a wrong to the pure original of which they are the 
 miniatures. So high is the dignity of this union between 
 themselves the types, and him the prototype, that if you 
 persecute believers he says, " I am Jesus, whom thou perse- 
 cutest." He is the same person with Jehovah, and still, be- 
 cause he is the best of men " who e'er drew earth about him," 
 he is not ashamed to call us brethren. We are less inclined to 
 term him our elder brother than he is inclined to be and to be 
 termed, " the first begotten among many brethren." He chose 
 to have the same instincts, the same wants which we have, 
 and the same frailties, so far as he could have them without 
 sin. And he urges us even yet, how often fruitlessly, to 
 ' let the same mind be in us which was also in Christ Jesus,' 
 and to have Christ himself formed within us. Living in this 
 possession of him, for us " to live is Christ," as " to die is 
 gain." Thus does the wonderful prayer of our Lord begin to 
 be answered in his followers, — " that they all may be one ; 
 as thou. Father art in me, and I in thee, that they also may 
 be one in us" ; " that they may be one even as we are one," ^ 
 " may be joined together in one will and mind and judgment." 
 
 2. There is a second relation in which good men, being 
 thus of kith and kin to their Lord, are united with him : 
 They have derived from him the beginnings of all which 
 they have and which is worth possessing. Often is the 
 Redeemer called the fountain of all our worth ; and the 
 rivulet has one nature and one history with the spring from 
 which it flows. Not only was our earliest existence drawn 
 out from him, but our new spirit was derived from him, and 
 it conjoins us with him in that point of his origin. Our wise 
 thoughts, which are a part of our very selves as good men, 
 rose from his suggestion. Our right impulses, which go to 
 make us what we are, sprang from his prompting. Our 
 entire holiness, which is the essence of our new character, 
 was first breathed into us by his inspiration. Our earliest 
 1 Johnxvii. 11, 20-23. 
 
120 UNION WITH CHRIST. 
 
 faith, being his gift as well as our act, is a link between our 
 souls and him. He exclaims, " I am the light of the world," 
 and again he assures his friends, " Ye are the light of the 
 world." Because one of these sayings is true, the other is 
 true likewise ; for the virtue of his friends, being only a ray 
 from his own virtue, has the same kind of resplendence with 
 his own, as the reflected beams of the moon are identified with 
 the radiance of the sun. 
 
 One does not fully appreciate, until one has narrowly 
 searched out, the large variety of methods in which the 
 sacred penmen labor to include Christ and his church in 
 one system of cause and result ; the cause involving a cer- 
 tainty of the result, and the result absorbed in the energetic 
 cause. Believers live ; but Christ is their life. Believers 
 shall rise from their graves ; Christ is their resurrection. 
 They have a virtue which is their own free choice and 
 their chief worth; but this virtue in its primitive rise, in 
 its earliest spring, is the result of Christ's spirit. As the 
 different members of the human body have one and the same 
 vital force, so the different members of Christ's mystical 
 body have one and the same principle of life, the same Holy 
 Spirit which was given to Christ without measure, and is 
 given to us as really as to him, but in a more limited degree.^ 
 How often are good men said to be built upon Christ ; for his 
 atonement is the basis of their love, hope, joy. He is the foun- 
 dation of stone, therefore the sure foundation, — other founda- 
 tion for their peace can no man lay, — the tried stone, the chief, 
 and upholding all their goodness, the precious corner-stone, the 
 head of the corner, taking the friction of adverse influences, 
 and binding the different walls together into one temple. 
 Now, the foundation is a part of the temple, an ornament of 
 it, the strength of it, indispensable to it, one with it. Archi- 
 tecture is an expression of truth ; and the edifice, if con- 
 formed to the laws of the Master-builder in heaven, bodies 
 forth one idea, utters in silent but perennial music a single 
 
 1 See Rom. viii. 9-11, and text quoted on p. 121 below. 
 
UNION WITH CHRIST. 121 
 
 but that a memorable word. The cathedral sinks its crypt- 
 stones deep in the earth, and raises its spires toward the 
 stars, and stretches out its long-drawn aisles, and expands 
 its lofty arches, and preserves the echo of its vaults, and 
 with the strong pillars that sustain it and the delicate tracery 
 that adorns it still makes an undivided impression on the 
 eye, ear, mind, and is ever remembered as a unique structure, 
 pointing and reaching and seeming to be striving toward one 
 end — the worship of him who inhabiteth the praises of 
 Israel. So good men are styled the temple or house of God.^ 
 They are the materials of a breathing, speaking, impressive 
 architecture. As living stones they are built up one spiritual 
 house, built up in Christ and established in the faith ; 
 cemented and builded together in him for a habitation of 
 God through the Spirit ; that Spirit being the breath which 
 permeates the habitation ; and as the atmosphere is diffused 
 through the material edifice, just so really does the Spirit 
 of the Lord pervade his more refined temple — a temple 
 which hath foundations, for it rests upon Him, the stone of 
 the corner, in whom all the building, fitly framed together, 
 groweth as a thing of life into a holy temple in the Lord ; 
 his energy penetrating its hard framework, and moving the 
 very stones, if need be, to cry out in his praise ; his electing 
 love conspicuous in the placing and the shaping of its com- 
 ponent parts ; his atoning grace lying deep underneath it, 
 and shining up through it and over it and all around it ; 
 being at once its firmness and its beauty, and combining his 
 church and his decrees and his providence into one radiant 
 system — the oneness consisting in the symmetry of all the 
 parts, their dependence on one infinite will which enlivens 
 and conjoins them all. 
 
 3. These thoughts anticipate, in part, a third relation in 
 which believers arc united with their Lord : They are the 
 
 ' 1 Cor. iii. 16, 17 ; vi. 19, 20 ; 2 Cor. vi. 16 ; Eph. ii. 19-22 ; Heb. iii. 6 ; 1 Pet. 
 ii. 4,5. 
 
122 UNION WITH CHBIST. 
 
 objects on which he continually and specially acts. Where 
 he acts, there he is : his agency is his presence. He is 
 everywhere in the sense of operating everywhere. We can 
 never flee from his intimacy. If we make our bed in the 
 depths of the earth, behold, he is there, but in a method far 
 inferior to that in which he inhabiteth the hearts of his 
 friends. In an emphatic way does he reside in the humble 
 and contrite ones, when he moves them to tremble at his 
 word. His peculiar influence upon them is his peculiar 
 residence within them, and they receive, as if it were a part 
 of themselves, his mind. When he makes his truth impres- 
 sive upon us he makes us his temple, and unites himself with 
 us as the soul is united with the body. Our humility is 
 deepened by his greatness inwardly appreciated ; our thank- 
 fulness glows on account of his generosity felt in our souls. 
 We are made hopeful by his atoning grace as it shines in 
 our hearts. We are courageous, because he is entertained 
 in our minds as the hope of glory. By the virtue, then, 
 which belongs to us as our free act, and to him as it is the 
 effluence of his word and Spirit, we have a common property 
 with him, and are joined with him in one mind. We aim to 
 interweave our character into the same web with his ; our 
 reverence being the subject of which his magnanimity is 
 the object, our faith being the movement toward him who 
 attracts us by his grace. We choose to sink our own agency 
 into his authorship ; thereby we envelop our humble efforts 
 with the divine honor, and, in the apt phrase of the apostle, 
 " our life is hid with Christ in God," and will be covered up 
 in him when ho shall come to be glorified in his saints, and 
 to be admired in all them that believe. 
 
 We lose the right idea of our oneness with Christ when 
 we separate him from his truth. "They who think of 
 him," says Augustine, " contain him." They partake of 
 his truth which is himself viewed aright, and welcoming his 
 truth into their hearts, they welcome him ; for the truth is not 
 a mere form of words, it is an essence : ' Christ is the truth.' 
 
UNION WITH CHRIST. 123 
 
 And as his friends contain him in themselves, so he contains 
 them in himself ; for he knows them, preserves them, 
 nourishes them, teaches them, quickens them , — so is that 
 Scripture true, " God dwelleth in them, and they in God." 
 It is not a vain fancy ; it is the true philosophy, " ye are not 
 in the flesh, but in the spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God 
 dwell in you." " I am the living bread which came down from 
 heaven " ; — abstract thinkers say that the truth enters and 
 becomes identical with the soul; but the truth is not a 
 mere dry proposition, it is the object around which that 
 proposition is drawn out, — "lam the living bread," — my 
 person as it was mocked and slain ; — this living truth if any 
 man will receive, he shall live also ; but unless ye accept, as 
 a part of yourselves, this bread of atonement, my flesh, ye 
 have no life in you, for my flesh is nutriment indeed, and he 
 who lovingly draws into his soul the true meaning, the rich 
 intent of my mission, — he partakes of me, — blends himself 
 with me in one spirit ; morally he is transubstantiated into 
 me, and I into him ; we are consubstantiated with each 
 other in the Christian life, which is all a sacrament. Our 
 Lord might have told us in scholastic phrase, I am the mys- 
 terious being whose attributes and works win your confidence, 
 but my attributes are myself endued as I am ; my works 
 are myself, working as I do ; your confidence is not an entity 
 apart from yourselves, it is yourselves confiding ; and your- 
 selves confiding in me are conjoined with me, as I receive 
 that confidence. There can be no affection without an 
 object and an agent ; you are the agents, I am the object. 
 So far as I am trusted by you, I am the complement of you. 
 You are dependent on me for the strength which cometh 
 from your trust. So are you joined unto me, as the object 
 and the author of your love. But our Saviour, instead of 
 adopting this abstract form, has taught us, " I am the vine, 
 ye are the branches ; unless ye abide in me," and open the 
 avenues of your mind to my inflowing instruction, keep the 
 passage clear for the motives which may circulate from me 
 
124 UNION WITH CHRIST. 
 
 through your whole system, you will wither away severed 
 from the vitalizing stock ; but if ye abide in me and keep your 
 hearts open to my doctrine, waiting to drink in my influence, 
 you shall grow up as engrafted boughs of a life-giving plant, 
 and being incorporated in one organism with me, ye 3hall 
 bear much fruit. Our fruit, however, the fruit of the 
 branches, continues to be the fruit of the vine. All our 
 piety is an offshoot from the main stock. If we offer a true 
 prayer, it is because he has inspired it ; after we have offered 
 the prayer, he recommends it in his interceding office to God ; 
 again we pray that his intercession may be availing, but it 
 is he who inspires that prayer and intercedes in behalf of it, 
 and then answers it, and thus our acts and his act are ever 
 doubling into each other. At the sacramental table we hold 
 in our hands the broken bread, it is a symbol of the atone- 
 ment ; he holds out before the eye of our faith his hand 
 pierced for us, it is a symbol of the atonement ; we take the 
 cup which is the sign of redemption, he points to his side 
 which is the sign of redemption. He gives and we take, 
 and by this interaction are we joined to the Lord, and are 
 one spirit with him. 
 
 4. This unceasing outflow of goodness from our Redeemer 
 to ourselves suggests a fourth relation in which we are 
 united to him : We love him, and he loves us. " He that 
 dwelleth in love," saith an apostle, " dwelleth in God." It 
 is a remark of Schiller that we are possessors of a virtue, 
 authors of an act, discoverers of a truth at the moment when 
 we entertain a loving reception of them. It is a familar say- 
 ing, that whenever we voluntarily acquiesce in any act, we 
 virtually perform it ; so far as we choose the moral charac- 
 ter of another, we transfer that character to ourselves. In 
 our measure we possess the attributes with which we heartily 
 .sympathize. In this sense the humility of our Eedeemer 
 becomes ours if, and when, and so far as we apprehend it, 
 and adopt it as our chosen virtue. In whatever degree we 
 
UNION WITH CHRIST. 125 
 
 know and then love his self-denial, in the same degree do we 
 accept it, appropriate it to ourselves as our own. Let the 
 measure be narrow as it may be, still if we expand our hearts 
 in any narrow measure, so as to comprehend in our real 
 preference any portion of his goodness, in that same measure 
 is his goodness fairly reckoned ours. Thus, in more than one 
 sense, is the righteousness of Christ imputed to the believer. 
 "As many as have been baptized into Christ have put on 
 Christ." Now to be baptized into Christ suggests the idea 
 of being introduced into his mind, and to put on Christ sug- 
 gests the idea of being invested with him as with a garment. 
 Therefore, if we participate in his spirit, we appear like him, 
 and personate him. 
 
 But infinitely more than we love our Redeemer does he 
 love us, and all that he loves in us he regards as his own. 
 Our virtue is imputed to him, for it is truly his, for he elicits 
 it, attracts it, approves it, accepts it. As, then, our excellence 
 belongs to him, and as his excellence belongs to us, in what- 
 ever degree we adopt it as our own, we have a joint interest 
 with him in the same character, and in this sense we 
 are joined together with him in one spirit. All this is no 
 anomaly among the phenomena of mind, it is no arbitrary 
 technical arrangement, it is natural in the religious sense 
 of the word while it is supernatural in the highest sense. It 
 is a normal tendency of love, as such, to strive after a one- 
 ness between the loving minds. Strong friends are eager to 
 regard themselves as absorbed, lost, in each other. Their 
 mutual language is like that of the Son affirming his intimacy 
 with the Father : " All mine are thine, and thine are mine." 
 " My friend being dead," says Augustine, " I live but half a 
 man." He made a part of myself. The fibres of my system 
 were entwined around him, just as they grow into my own 
 being. Many a bereaved one has felt his very soul to be 
 divided, his whole person to be sawn asunder, the half of it 
 borne away by death, and himseK left as a bleeding wreck of 
 wliat was once. If it be human nature for the inconstant 
 
126 UNION WITH CHRIST. 
 
 friends who meet in this jarring world to speak of their 
 union with each other, how much more pertinent as well as 
 forcible is the word, that all who are joined in close adhesion 
 to the Lord are one spirit with him ; for he has encompassed 
 them with an everlasting love, and has never lost them for 
 one moment from his affections ; — never once, — not even 
 before the morning stars sang together. For ere he had 
 laid the foundations of the earth, did he enfold his friends 
 just as firmly in his grace as he envelops them at this present. 
 Then he delighted in them. Then he was near them. Then 
 he caused them to dwell in him. Then had they no other 
 existence than in his mind and in his heart. Then they were 
 involved in his thoughts. Then they were wrapt up in his 
 affections. And by no means less fully comprehended in 
 himself are they now than if they had never received a 
 separate existence. They are now the expressions of his 
 eternal ideas. They are now the indices of his everlasting 
 purpose. All the good which is in them is his love mani- 
 fested in their individual life. There are no unions on earth 
 which are more than faint emblems of the oneness between 
 him and the souls who are the mementos of his early 
 thoughts. The glowing pencil of inspiration seems to tremble 
 when it sketches the picture of this intimacy, and portrays 
 him as the bridegroom, and his church as the bride, and 
 they twain are one. Never shall they be divorced from 
 each other, as in the divine idea they were never parted. 
 What we so hardly and anxiously term the perseverance of 
 the saints, as if it were a mere desperate struggle against 
 adverse forces, is more than once presented in the Bible as 
 their remaining ever encircled with the attractions of his 
 grace and allured toward the solemnities of heaven as to a 
 nuptial feast. If the bridegroom will leave father and mother 
 for the sake of his espoused, still more willing was He who 
 betrothed the church unto himself to forsake all the glories 
 of his Father's house that he might become one with the 
 objects of his love, covenanted to him from everlasting. And 
 
UNION WITH CHRIST. 127 
 
 as they have been endowed with the richest tokens of his 
 grace, they also will leave children and friends, brother and 
 sister, father and mother, so they may please him whom 
 they love, because he first and so loved them. Who shall 
 separate us ? — nothing shall be able to separate us from the 
 love of him who says that he who " toucheth you, toucheth the 
 apple of his eye." The love of Christ to his friends envelops 
 them in him ; their love to him involves their implicit faith 
 cleaving to him, and thus they are often characterized as 
 being in him, living and dying in him.^ 
 
 5. There is one more, a fifth, relation in which believers are 
 united with their Lord: They have somewhat of the same 
 destiny with him. The very nature of their love to him 
 secures a sympathetic participation in all that he has suffered 
 or is to enjoy ; and he has unfolded the character of his 
 love to us in having already taken upon him our infirmities, 
 and in that farewell prayer, " I will that they also whom 
 thou hast given me be with me where I am." 
 
 The sacred volume suggests a marked parallel between the 
 history of the Redeemer and that of his friends. Was he a 
 man of sorrows and acquainted with grief ? We know the 
 fellowship of his sufferings. I, says Paul, " fill up that which 
 is behind of the afflictions of Christ, in my flesh " ; as if the 
 afflictions of Christ were to be completed by another self. 
 Was our Exemplar called to give up his life ? — "so many 
 of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into 
 his death"; we die daily; we yield up our sinful spirit, we 
 part with our old desires, we bid farewell to our evil habits. 
 Did he expire on the cross ? we are conformed unto that 
 death ; we are crucified to the world, crucified with him and 
 for him ; we groan being burdened ; we are in heaviness 
 and continual sorrow ; our death unto sin is attended with 
 anguish and shame like that of the cross ; we are pierced by 
 
 1 See Rom. viii. 1 ; 1 Cor. xv. 18 ; 2 Cor. v. 17 ; xii. 2 ; Gal. i. 22 ; Col. i. 2 ; 
 1 Thess. iv. Ifi; 1 Pet. v. 14, and other passages too numerous to be cited. 
 
128 UNION WITH CHRIST. 
 
 our sharp remembrances ; we feel the puncture of remorse ; 
 the whole head is sick and the whole heart is faint under our 
 discipline for transgression. Was he laid in the grave ? there- 
 fore we are buried with him by baptism into death. Was 
 he raised from the tomb ? — "as Christ was raised up from the 
 dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk 
 in newness of life." The world is represented as a garden 
 planted with the bodies of the saints. Our Redeemer's body 
 is termed the first fruits, because first risen — the sample and 
 earnest of the future harvest, — it being all one harvest, as all 
 the ears of corn in the field are one grain, and all the kernels 
 of wheat the same rich fruit. " For," saith the apostle, " if 
 we have become united^ with him by the likeness of his 
 death, we shall be also by the likeness of his resurrection." 
 In a limited degree, in as far as with a clear view and a 
 pure heart we sympathize in his sorrows, they are in more 
 than one sense imputed unto us ; and our pains in a full 
 measure, even as fully as he cherished a fellow-feeling with 
 them, — and who can fathom the depths of his commise- 
 ration ? " for he hath borne our griefs and carried our 
 sorrows," — they are all imputed to him who made his atone- 
 ment in so making our pains his own, as himself to express 
 all which our endless ruin could have signified. And in 
 this reciprocated sympathy, he assuming our troubles and 
 we sharing in his, we have a distinct bond of union with 
 him. We must, indeed, never forget that there was a mean- 
 ing in the stripes laid upon him, which is beyond our joint 
 experience ; but the mercy expressed in these stripes, that 
 is our common property. There was an amount of dishonor 
 felt under the pressure of that crown of thorns, which we 
 can neither endure nor compute ; but the glory of the crown, 
 — that reaches and belongs to us. The price which he 
 paid exceeds all that we can pay or know, but the boon which 
 he purchased for so large a price, — that is ours. We have, 
 then, a joint possession of rich experiences involved in his 
 
 ' Grown together. 
 
UNION WITH CHBIST. 129 
 
 cross, and after mingling for a season in some of its sorrows, 
 we shall be partners of its honor as long as we abide in 
 him. This fellow-heirship with him is a oneness with him. 
 
 We fail to estimate the degree in which his atonement 
 assimilates our destiny to his own, because we keep our 
 vision confined within the limits of our earthly life. If we 
 could be raised to some height of spiritual vision, and behold 
 the entire course marked out for us to pursue in the promised 
 land ; if our ever progressive virtue could be drawn from the 
 future to this point of time, and appear all at once before 
 our distinct gaze ; if all the praises that we shall offer, and 
 all our high and solemn musings, and all our lofty conversa- 
 tions with patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, and our com- 
 munion with the Father and Christ himself and the Holy 
 Ghost, — if all the yet untold but ever augmenting glories 
 with which we are to be encircled could be brought hither- 
 ward, and pass one by one in their magnificent array before 
 our eyes, then we might feel the emphasis of those inspired 
 words : " We are all partakers of that one bread," the body 
 of our Redeemer ; having been partakers of his sufferings 
 we shall be partakers of his glory, partakers of Christ, par- 
 takers of the divine nature. We could then catch the elo- 
 quence of the fact that all good men in Christ are with him 
 denominated Christ himself.^ Within the distinct apprehen- 
 sion of the Spirit who dictated these expressive words, all our 
 future progress is spread out. At one glance he comprehends 
 our never ceasing rise in virtue and honor. He perceives the 
 minutest scenes of our eternal history all coiled up in our 
 present faith, as forests lie hidden in the buried seed ; and he 
 regards us as having lived already in the elective plan of 
 Heaven. Previously to our regeneration was our being 
 endeared to him in his eternally predestinating love. Subse- 
 quent to our regeneration stretches out the line of our progress 
 in virtue and joy. Between that past decree and this pros- 
 pective joy is but a narrow isthmus of frailty. Thus if we be 
 
 1 iCor. xii. 12; Gal. iii. 16. 
 
130 UNION WITH CHRIST. 
 
 elect in Christ Jesus, and then saved in Christ Jesus, we pass 
 through two extended scenes of honor : that of the purposed 
 adoption into his family, and that of the historical blessedness 
 in heaven ; and there is but one point in which we lose our 
 interest in the Redeemer. For a little time, when the 
 believer had been born of a woman, he continued estranged 
 from the waj of peace ; but his life of sin flew away like an 
 eagle hasting through the air. For a small moment did the 
 Lord forsake him, but with great mercies and an everlasting 
 kindness did he inwardly and outwardly reward him. Now 
 the omniscient mind, compressing into a single view this 
 varied expanse of the believer's history, describes him as he is 
 on the large whole, and in this comprehensive view " he that 
 sanctifieth and they who are sanctified are all of one," — one 
 kind, one aim, one honor, — and the Redeemer's affluent 
 promise is fulfilled : ' To him that overcometh will I give to sit 
 with me on my throne, even as I overcame and am set 
 down with my Father on his throne.' Although he is the 
 monarch, and they are subject unto him, yet as he shares 
 their sensibilities, he lets them share his crown. He ap- 
 pointeth them to be judges over the angels, — kings and 
 priests unto God. One of his last words as Mediator shall 
 be, " Inherit the kingdom prepared for you," — and we shall 
 reign in life by him. " If we endure we shall also reign with 
 him." He may endow us with regal offices, but even if he do 
 not, he will introduce us into a royal state. Our excellence 
 of character will be itself a kingdom ; virtue if perfect, must 
 be imperial. He who is the brightness of his Father's glory 
 radiates his light upon all around him. It is reflected from 
 them and they shine in it as their own for ever. He enjoys 
 his honor the more, because he distributes it among his 
 friends. If his character be loved, ours will be in its appro- 
 priate measure ; for our thoughts, emotions, and preferences 
 shall be entirely like his, so far as our even then attenuated 
 faculties can stretch themselves upward toward him. Through 
 grace we shall have fulfilled the command : ' Be ye perfect, 
 
UNION WITH CHRIST. 131 
 
 as your Father in heaven is perfect.' If his works engage 
 the interest of the universe, we shall attract the universal 
 interest ; for " we are his workmanship, created in Christ 
 Jesus," — our souls planned and formed and redeemed 
 and renewed and sanctified by him, and illustrating his 
 praiseworthy skill and grace. If his atoning office be revered, 
 we shall participate in the honor ; for we shall be evidently 
 set forth as the objects of his atoning love, the identical 
 jewels which he came down to gather up. His compassion 
 will be adored ; then we shall be a spectacle to the very 
 angels of heaven, for we are the once forlorn children whom 
 he pitied. His care over his friends will be celebrated in 
 triumphal psalms ; so we shall be sought out and wondered 
 at as the chosen objects of that care. Thus our history will 
 be identified with his. Our biography will be the record of 
 his tenderness ; our lowest estate will be the remembrancer 
 of his magnanimity ; our past frailties will be the memento 
 of his wonderful condescension ; our joy will be inseparable 
 from his glory, and his glory cannot be fully revealed save 
 through our joy. Intertwined, then, with the minutest re- 
 cords of our life are the lines of his adorable history ; inter- 
 penetrated by his honor is every new phase of our future 
 enjoyment. Such a prospect of such a union seems, I know, 
 to be visionary. We might have anticipated a climax which 
 ' eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered 
 into the heart of man'; but in the very jubilee of our hope, 
 — rising, as hope is wont to rise, above the realities of life, — 
 we should have never adventured upon a hint of such an 
 eternal weight of glory, had it not been the fulfilment of that 
 prayer, in itself too noble to be left without a response of un- 
 utterable richness : " Neither pray I for these alone, but for 
 them also which shall believe on me through their word ; that 
 they all may be one as thou Father, art in me, and I in thee, 
 that they also may be one in us " (the union in the sacred 
 Trinity l)eing an illustration of our Redeemer's union with 
 his church) ; " and the glory which thou gavest me I have 
 
132 UNION WITH CHRIST. 
 
 given them, that they may be one, even as we are one : I 
 in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in 
 one." 
 
 If all these things be true, my brethren, we see the strength 
 and dignity and blessedness of the pure church. The pure 
 church is no mere outward organization, but is the com- 
 pany of the Redeemer's friends, banded together in holy 
 love. In their union lies their strength. Their benevolence 
 consolidates them. They fortify each other. " A spirit who 
 loves himself alone is an atom floating in the immeasurable 
 void." So wrote Schiller ; but his thought had been already 
 expressed by a more familiar writer, who portrays selfish 
 men as isolated, and therefore helpless, — ' clouds without 
 water, carried about with winds; — wandering stars, to whom 
 is reserved the blackness of darkness forever.' Among 
 good men there are, indeed, superficial diversities ; but there 
 is a fundamental, which will be an endless, unity. They 
 maintain differing theories, while they cling to the same 
 doctrine. They hold out varying doctrines on less important 
 themes, while they hold fast the same essential truth. They 
 disagree on the truth in form, while they coincide in sub- 
 stance. " There can be neither Jew nor Greek," writes the 
 apostle, " there can be neither bond nor free, there can be no 
 male and female ; for ye all are one man in Christ Jesus." 
 Their sin has been one, their peril has been one, their rescue 
 has been one, they have one habit of thought and converse, the 
 same love of prayer and praise, one and the same interest in 
 things present and in things to come. For not only shall they 
 be, but they are now, invigorated by a union with the just 
 men made perfect. There is a golden cord — invisible, but 
 not unfelt — held in the hands of all the redeemed on earth 
 and in heaven, and closely attaching itself to the throne of 
 the Eternal. Those who are now struggling with sin and 
 those who are at rest from all their hard toils, the weary 
 ones who yet contend against their inward foes and the 
 
UNION WITH CHRIST. 133 
 
 ■emancipated spirits who wear their garlands of triumph, — 
 all these make but one communion, and one song employs 
 the lips of saints and angels, in one city, and that the city of 
 God ; for all the orders of mind in heaven, and all the chosen 
 ones of earth are gathered into the love of Him who inter- 
 twines with each other all who are united in Christ. So 
 strong are the sympathies between good men and their 
 Lord, that inspiration describes them as forming one single 
 person — Jesus Christ being the Head, and his friends the 
 body, and all together being one man ; the vital force dis- 
 tributed through the system from the Head ; all the members 
 by joints and liands having nourishment ministered to them ; 
 all being knit together, and compacted by that which every 
 joint supplieth. Of this comprehensive person, held fast by 
 these firm tenures, there is one soul. The inner life, ani- 
 mating the Head, quickens the members. We are stirred by 
 the single mind which was given to Jesus without measure. 
 The identical Spirit which descended upon him at his bap- 
 tism and anointed him for his mission is the Spirit which 
 abides in us ; and so vital is our relation to him that, in 
 the words of John Calvin, " the Son of God regards himself 
 as in a certain sense imperfect, unless he is joined to us ; the 
 body is not complete, unless it be filled out with the mem- 
 bers " ; and " we," says the apostle, emboldened by his warm 
 and intimate affection, " we are members of his body," pro- 
 ceeding from his flesh, and his bones ; we are " the fulness of 
 him that filleth all in all." i 
 
 The strength of the church illustrates its dignity and bles- 
 sedness. The Redeemer is its root, and the tendency of a 
 root is to develop itself in the tree. The Redeemer is its life, 
 and the law of life is to unfold itself in the vivified mass. 
 The true church is so exalted as to be like a star in the 
 firmament shining with clear proof of the mysteries of the 
 Redeemer's love. Our very weakness is a foil to set off his 
 
 1 See Rom. xii. 5; 1 Cor. x. 16, 17; xii. 12; Eph. i. 22, 23; iv. 4-6; v. 
 29, 30. 
 
134 UNION WITH CHRIST. 
 
 strength, our very frailties are a sign of his condescension, 
 our littleness is a correlate of his magnanimity. He would 
 not have extended his grace to its utmost limit unless we 
 had gone so far from him ; our remoteness illustrating the 
 elasticity of his interest. And will he, regarding his church 
 as an ornament of his administration, forget its welfare ? 
 How will he leave the members of his own body to be bruised ? 
 "If a man love me" (how little soever), "he will keep my 
 words, and my Father will love him, and" (as a consequence) 
 " we will come unto him, and make our abode with him." 
 And to those whom he has chosen, his abode in them is itself 
 blessedness. They may be scattered by persecution, but they 
 shall not be left alone ; for, says the apostle, " if that which 
 ye have heard from the beginning shall remain in you, ye 
 also shall continue in the Son and in the Father." They 
 may be imprisoned ; but in their silent cell they are members 
 of him who will say : " I was in prison, and ye visited me " ; 
 and at the last day he will look upon all the kindness shown to 
 his friends as intended for himself in them. They may walk 
 in the fiery furnace of affliction ; but there shall be a form 
 with them like the form of the Son of Man, who saith : ' In 
 all their afflictions I am afflicted.' And when they pass 
 through the valley of death, he shall be there, and they shall 
 rest secure in him ; and they shall not fall asleep alone, but 
 shall sleep in Jesus. And when they shall lie in their graves, 
 
 " Eacli in Ms narrow cell forever laid," 
 the union shall remain unbroken. For as the body is united 
 to the soul, and the soul is united to Christ, so the body itself 
 is united to Christ by this intervening link ; for " know ye 
 not," saith the apostle, "that your bodies are the members 
 of Christ?" And as in Adam all die, so because they are in 
 Christ Jesus shall all be made alive ; for the whole will move 
 with its parts. For as the tree bending under a mighty wind 
 brings down all its branches with it, but when the calmer 
 moments arrive it resumes its erect position, bearing up with 
 it its twigs and pendent fruit, so does he who is the Tree of 
 
UNION WITH CHBIST. 135 
 
 Life raise up, when lie rises, all the boughs and the blossoms 
 that live and grow in him. And as the body of a man, when 
 it moves, goes forward as a unit, so will the church, which is 
 the Lord's body, rise up with him as its Head, and enter at 
 once into his joy. Our pious fathers were comforted with 
 the hope that " the souls of believers are at their death made 
 perfect in holiness and do immediately pass into glory, and 
 their bodies being still united to Christ, do rest in their 
 graves till the resurrection." For all the dead, small and 
 great, they who sleep amid the corals' of the sea, and they 
 whose bones lie upon the mountain top, if they died in the 
 Lord, shall ever remain in the Lord. Not one of them shall 
 be forgotten. His eye shall rest upon them ever. They 
 shall hear his voice. They will not know the voice of a 
 stranger ; but his voice they shall know, and at its bidding 
 they shall rise, — an exceeding great army, — and shall go 
 up in triumph to him who will be all in all, and will abide 
 in his saints, who will also abide in him. 
 
 One of the holiest men trained in this college has remarked : 
 " If the happiness of the creature be considered, as it will 
 be, in the whole of the creature's eternal duration, with all 
 the infinity of its progress, and infinite increase of nearness 
 and union to God, — in this view the creature must be looked 
 upon as united to God in an infinite strictness." ^ The 
 thought lying at the basis of these words may well add 
 inspiration to the man who is now to take the oversight of 
 this college church. Amid the fearful responsibilities of his 
 pastorate let him enter into the mind of all true-hearted 
 apostles, "always bearing about in the body the dying of 
 Jesus, that the life also of Jesus may be manifested in our 
 body ; " "I have been crucified with Christ ; yet I live ; 
 and yet no longer I, but Christ liveth in me." Let our 
 brother be strengthened by the assurance that the prayers of 
 
 1 Jonathan Edwards on " The End for which God created the World." pp. 
 120, 121. (Ed. 1791). 
 
136 UNION WITH CHRIST. 
 
 this church and of other churches will go up in his behalf as 
 he toils for the young men committed to him ; that when he 
 suffers, other members of the Lord's body will suffer with him ; 
 that every goodly thought which he insinuates into the hearts 
 of his hearers will diffuse its influence through a large com- 
 munity, and tend to bind remote churches together in the 
 unity of the faith ; that there will be joy among the angels 
 over every one of his hearers who repenteth ; and, dearer 
 than all these sympathies of the church militant and the 
 church triumphant, the Redeemer himseK has promised : 
 " Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." 
 Upon the end of the world, when our Redeemer shall gather 
 together in one all things in him, both which are in heaven 
 and are on earth, and make the union complete as it can be 
 between himseK and his friends, — upon this end of the 
 world may our brother keep his eye fixed, steadfast, as he 
 now enters his great office, saying: Yea, doubtless, and I 
 count all things but loss — that I may win Christ and be 
 found in him, not having mine own righteousness, which is 
 of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, by 
 whom, now more than ever, the world is crucified, unto me, 
 and by whom, now more than ever, I am crucified unto tho 
 world. 
 
VI. 
 
 ETERNITY OF GOD/ 
 
 DEUTERONOMY XXXII. 40. 
 FOE I LIFT UP MY HAND TO HEAVEN, AND SAY, I LIVK FOB EVBE. 
 
 Who and what is God ? There cannot be another question 
 more momentous than this. The attributes of Jehovah are 
 Jehovah himself. There are men who imagine that he first 
 exists as a substance worthy of our homage, and that his 
 attributes are something added to him, like the finishing 
 touches to a picture. But we have no idea of him apart 
 from his perfections. We love nothing else, we revere 
 nothing else, in him than the qualities belonging to him. 
 That interior essence in which his attributes inhere is beyond 
 all our distinct apprehension. The eternity of God, then, is 
 God himself as eternal. In meditating on this eternity we 
 are reflecting, not on an abstraction, but on him ; and when 
 we reflect on him he is in our minds ; even he who inhabiteth 
 eternity dwells in the intellect that thinks of him. But what 
 do we mean by the word eternity ? Philosophers have written 
 folios after folios to define and explain it. Some have said 
 that eternity is duration without parts. Others have said 
 that it is duration without succession. They have likened it 
 to a tower standing erect in a stream of water. The ripples 
 of the stream that now strike upon the tower represent time 
 present ; the water which has already passed the tower, and 
 is stiU moving from it down the stream, is a symbol of time 
 
 1 A Sermon preached on the last Sabbath of the year 1 853. 
 
138 ETEENITY OF GOD. 
 
 past ; the waves which are now up the stream and rolling 
 on toward the tower are symbols of time future ; but the 
 tower itself remains unmoved and unmovable. Again, phi- 
 losophers have likened the divine eternity to the style or 
 gnomon of the sun-dial, remaining perpendicular and sta- 
 tionary, while the shadow moving around it exhibits the 
 varying relations of time. Other schoolmen have said that 
 eternity is the possibility of infinite succession ; still others, 
 that it is a ground or condition of that possibility. But 
 after all the numberless attempts to define the word, the 
 same old question comes back to us : What is eternity ? No 
 words can make it plainer than it is now. We cannot 
 understand a definition of it better than we understand the 
 term to be defined. We do not need a definition for any 
 practical purpose. If we do give one, we choose to give it 
 in the oft-repeated words : " I know what eternity is, if you 
 do not ask me what it is ; but if you do ask me, I do not 
 know." Our idea is plain enough for every act of duty, if 
 we make no attempt to make it plainer ; but the very effort 
 to decompose it confuses and bewilders us. 
 
 I. A truth is often made impressive and practical by con- 
 sidering the arguments in favor of it ; let us, then, glance 
 at the reasons for believing that God never began and never 
 ceases to be. 
 
 He never began to be. This we infer from the nature 
 of cause and effect. The visible universe must have had a 
 cause. Then there must have been some cause in existence 
 from eternity. If not, there must have been a period when 
 nothing existed from which anything could originate. But 
 to suppose that all things sprang ultimately from nothing is 
 absurd. Tliat something, then, which existed from eternity 
 is the first cause of all things ; and this is God, who is there- 
 fore in the very phraseology of the argument admitted to be 
 from everlasting. 
 
ETERNITY OP GOD. 139 
 
 Again, we infer the past eternity of Jehovah from his 
 omnipotence. Being all-powerful, he could not have been 
 created. For if he were created, he had a Creator ; and if 
 he had a Creator, he can be governed by that Creator. It is 
 a first principle that he who originates a substance is able to 
 control that which he originated. But to suppose that God 
 can be governed by another being is to suppose that he is 
 not omnipotent. Now he is omnipotent, therefore he cannot 
 be controlled by another being ; hence he was never created 
 by another ; and of course, if uncreated, he must be eternal. 
 
 That God will never cease to be we infer from his present 
 and past existence. As we believe in our own immortality 
 because we now are, so we believe in the future eternity of 
 God because he now is and has been always. Unless there 
 can be conflicting evidence, we have a logical faith that things 
 will continue as they have been ; and where they have ever 
 been the same, we need strong positive evidence to make us 
 doubt that they will always remain so. 
 
 Again, we infer the future eternity of Jehovah from the 
 fact that there is and will be no power which can cause his 
 existence to cease. All beings, all forces, are his creatures ; 
 and that which is created can never defeat, still less annihi- 
 late, its Creator. No extraneous power, then, can terminate 
 his existence. Will he ever choose to retire from being ? 
 It is the tendency of mind, so far as we can understand it, — 
 and the nobler and holier the mind, so much the stronger is 
 its tendency, — to love its own existence, to recoil from 
 annihilation. We have the right to presume that God's in- 
 finite Spirit, which is infinitely blessed, takes an infinite 
 pleasure in its own eternal life. Then it will not forfeit that 
 life. Besides, his existence is not dependent on his will. It 
 did not begin by virtue of volition, nor can it cease by the 
 same. It is the nature of his mysterious essence to exist. 
 That Spirit, raised so high above our comprehension, has it 
 for its law to be. " I am," " I am that I am," is the subhme 
 
140 ETERNITY OP GOD. 
 
 designation of his very substance, not less necessarily uncaused 
 than it is incapable of an end. As our mental existence does 
 not depend on our will, neither does his being depend on 
 any will, even his own. But as he necessitates our life, so is 
 it his perfection that his own existence is necessitated in his 
 own nature. Ever adorable is that Spirit who is because 
 his very essence makes his existence inevitable, and in the 
 very substratum of whose attributes lies the absolute cause 
 why he should and must be. 
 
 These are brief suggestions of the rational argument in 
 favor of the past and future eternity of God. The Biblical 
 proof is decisive. For he is not only affirmed to have existed 
 from everlasting, but we are also assured that his " years 
 shall have no end." It is not only asserted that he is the 
 King eternal, immortal, invisible, but it is also declared, in 
 a phrase which combines a prediction with a prayer, ' to him 
 be honor and glory forever and ever.' There is a sense in 
 which we are immortal ; but there is another sense in which 
 the inspired writers are accurate in teaching that He only — 
 He who unlike all others exists by his own inherent energy 
 of being — God " only hath immortality." ^ 
 
 H. The main design of this discourse, however, is not to 
 prove the divine eternity, but to make a few remarks upon it. 
 
 First, the fact of his beginningless and endless existence 
 is in singular harmony with the other attributes of Jehovah, 
 This admirable harmony is a distinct perfection of his 
 nature. Men have believed in a God who is frail ; but there 
 is something incongruous in the idea of a Spirit continuing 
 from and through the everlasting solitudes, and yet feeble. 
 With such a prolonged duration we instinctively associate 
 unlimited strength. Men have believed in a Divine Spirit 
 who is ignorant ; but so far as we understand the nature of 
 mind, it has an instinct for knowledge ; intelligence is its 
 
 J 1 Tim. vi. 16; John v. 26. 
 
ETERNITY OF GOD. 141 
 
 congenial and essential aim ; activity in perceiving the truth 
 is its first law. Even if we supposed that an almighty and 
 eternal mind was ignorant once, we could not suppose that 
 it is ignorant now. Through a beginningless duration it has 
 been employing its energy in thought ; and if there had been 
 new ideas to be gained it would have gained them. For the 
 nature of mind is to make advancement where there is any 
 advancement to be made ; and we are not prepared to believe 
 that an infinite Spirit, infinitely active, has already passed 
 an infinite duration, and left any department of intelligence 
 unexplored. Men have believed in a God who is mutable. 
 But if a mind through numberless myriads of cycles has been 
 observing all the possible changes of things, what need has 
 he of still repeated fluctuations ? Must they not have been 
 reiterated often enough, and long enough ? We instinctively 
 associate steadiness with anything long established, immu- 
 tableness with everything eternal. So if Jehovah be without 
 beginning he is self-existent ; for nothing can have existed 
 forever, and yet have had an extrinsic cause. Then he is 
 independent ; for he who exists in and of himself need rely 
 on no foreign help. We are likewise predisposed to think 
 that an eternal, omnipotent Being is morally good. Good- 
 ness is wisdom, and the eternal thoughtfulness of an infinite 
 mind, seeing all things just as they are, is congenial with 
 considerate wisdom, and uncongenial with the opposite. Sin 
 is folly, and a Spirit which must forever have seen the lowest 
 depths of the meanness of sin will not be short-sighted enough 
 to welcome it. There is such an absolute perfectness in the 
 natural attributes of God as it is hard for us to associate 
 with a moment, still harder with an eternity, of selfishness. 
 We love to think, and this is an instinctive love, — the very 
 instinct involving a reason for the thought, — that the im- 
 measurable ages have already been inhabited by a mind as 
 immeasurable in goodness as in duration. In the same way 
 our instincts incline us to suppose that throughout the cycles 
 that have gone by there has lived one Spirit unlimited in 
 
142 ETERNITY OF GOD. 
 
 blessedness. Has an Eternal One been inwardly annoyed 
 with malignant passions ? Have envy and malice lacerated 
 a mind which has had interminable opportunities for dis- 
 cerning that true happiness comes from true benevolence? 
 Will one who has experienced all the phenomena of a begin- 
 ningless life be liable still to disappointment ? We do not 
 pretend to demonstrate that if God has existed forever then 
 he must be God blessed forever ; we only mean to assert that 
 the one perfection is in beautiful agreement with the other ; 
 and this agreement among all the divine attributes is a delight 
 to the soul ; and this natural delight insinuates into the mind 
 a faith in them all. If one attribute comes into our field of 
 vision, all come. They all form one golden chain, and if a 
 single link pass before our admiring eye, all the links move 
 with it in grace inexpressible. 
 
 So far as the mind is unperverted by sin, it aspires of its 
 own nature to a belief in all the perfections of God as ever- 
 lasting. It demands proof for their existence, but is logically 
 satisfied with even a faint proof. Its cravings are for a 
 Divine Being complete in himself, while we are complete in 
 him in whom all excellences are concentrated, and by whom 
 they all are presented to us in their intrinsic union. Our 
 mind was made to believe in a Being whose perfections, 
 coalescing in an internal unity, make him the one and the 
 only God. There are symmetries in the world ; but they are 
 faint copies of the symmetry which is in him. There are 
 consistencies in man ; but the model of all self-consistency is 
 God. There are harmonies in all ranks of being; but in 
 Jehovah is that exactness of concord in comparison with 
 which all the musical sounds on earth are like a troubled 
 echo. There is rest in heaven, because all the perfections of 
 the King of heaven co-exist in peace. 
 
 Secondly, as the various attributes of Jehovah are fitted to 
 each other, so his eternity increases our reverence for them 
 all. We are so made that we revere the ancient. Lord 
 
ETERNITY OP GOD. 143 
 
 Byron personifies time as the " beautifier of the dead, adorner 
 of the ruin." The cities of a remote antiquity, the sages 
 who taught in them, attract our peculiar veneration. Perhaps 
 the mind, being made for religious truth, is endued with this 
 reverent spirit in order that it may pay especial homage to 
 him who is the Ancient of Days, and compared with whom 
 all human antiquity is but the dew of the morning. If his 
 attributes should be supposed to have been successively 
 acquired, they would be at once somewhat shorn of their 
 glory. If there was a time when he did not know all things, 
 we should, indeed, revere his present omniscience and om- 
 nipotence, but not as we revere those attributes now when 
 we know them to have been without beginning. As the 
 disciples of our Lord called his attention to the majestic 
 stones of the temple, he checked their admiration by the 
 announcement that not one of those stones should be left 
 upon another. How soon would our reverence for Jehovali 
 be abated, if we imagined that he would become frail, or 
 unskilful, or forgetful ! 
 
 We now adore his goodness. It has endured through infi- 
 nitely more myriads of centuries than there have been seconds 
 since the first creation. But the moment we strike out the 
 quality of permanence from his goodness we despoil it of 
 one crowning gem. How long soever we may suppose it to 
 have continued, still, if it be not without beginning it de- 
 generates into a thing of mere time ; there was an infinite 
 duration in which our Creator was not good. If the divine 
 benevolence has not been eternal already, it never will become 
 eternal. At any future period, remote as it may be, that 
 goodness will only have continued to one finite point from 
 another finite point. Reason about this as we may, we feel 
 this to be a degradation ; our sense of the magnificent would 
 find nothing to meet its wants. Our confidence in the divine 
 goodness would be impaired, if we should entertain the mere 
 conjecture that it will ever vanish. When will it wither 
 away like a flower of the field ? Has our Protector already 
 
144 ETERNITY OF GOD. 
 
 begun to faint and to be weary in well-doing ? Our trust in 
 him is complete, because his love is fixed, constant, invari- 
 able, — what do we say ? these are not the words, — his love 
 is absolute and eternal. 
 
 Absolute eternity ^ — this one idea makes the entire char- 
 acter of Jehovah august. The degree in which it surpasses 
 our distinct and definite conception adds to the majesty of it. 
 All things grand go out into the obscure. It is well for us 
 to let our minds roam into the future, and strive after a 
 terminus to the ages which are to be illumined by the glory 
 of the Most High. We can only persevere in striving, and 
 shall be at last as far as at first from a boundary line of that 
 duration which as yet has been pervaded by no life. In the 
 past, however, an eternity has been lived through. Our 
 mind, penetrating into that antecedent duration, can make 
 no more approach than it has made now to any sign of a com- 
 mencement. Yet the mysterious truth is, that the cycles 
 beyond our imagination, should we spend our immortal life 
 in endeavoring to imagine them, have been lightened up with 
 the radiant benevolence of that Spirit who had already 
 enjoyed an eternal life at the most distant period which can 
 suggest itself to our quick-moving, far-reaching fancy. Let 
 the figures of arithmetic be added one to another, and written 
 down in so many books " that even the world itself would 
 not contain the books that should be written," and let each 
 of these figures denote a century, all of them together would 
 only reach back to a period at the beginning of which our 
 Creator had existed forever, in a sense as real as that in 
 which myriads of ages hence he will have existed forever. 
 Herein is the incomprehensibleness of his essence. This is 
 essential to his being the true Jehovah. This is the com- 
 plement of all his attriliutes. This is their last consummate 
 glory. This is his final distinction from other gods. This 
 is his name. This is the meaning of the remarkable words : 
 " Hearken unto me, Jacob, and Israel my called, I am he ; 
 I am the first ; I also am the last ; mine hand also hath laid 
 
ETEKNITY OF GOD. 145 
 
 the foundation of the earth." Therefore, "Every creature 
 which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, 
 and sucli as are in the sea, and all that arc in them, heard I 
 saying, Blessing and honor and glory and power be unto him 
 that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb forever and 
 ever." " We give thee thanks, Lord God Almighty, which 
 art, and wast, and art to come, because thou hast taken to 
 thee thy great power, and hast reigned." " The four and 
 twenty elders shall fall down before him that sitteth on the 
 throne, and shall worship him that liveth forever and ever." 
 
 Thirdly, the preceding topic leads us to the remark that 
 the absolute eternity of the Redeemer proves him to be 
 divine. ■ We have seen that eternity is involved in, and it 
 also implies, self-existence. Now, it may be that the very 
 constitution of a self-existent mind necessitates a Trinity. 
 Perhaps the nature which exists because it intrinsically must 
 exist is by the same inherent necessity triune. Be this, 
 however, as it may, the self-existence of a Being is a proof 
 of his Divine essence. The Redeemer, being eternal, is the 
 "I am." He then is Jehovah. We have seen, also, that 
 the whole attribute of eternity is of itself a characteristic 
 and an evidence of the Godhead. Does, then, the Redeemer 
 possess this crowning attribute ? Is he adorned with that 
 perfection which adds a glory to all the excellences of the 
 Most High ? Then he is divine ; and in agreement herewith 
 he is designated by the same titles which characterize the 
 ever-living Father. That very attribute which becomes a 
 proper name of the Deity is applied to Jesus by himself, who 
 never claimed an unmerited honor. " I am Alpha and 
 Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which 
 is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty." 
 "And when I saw him," says John, "I fell at his feet as 
 dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto 
 me. Fear not [and he adds a divine reason for the fearless- 
 ness], I am the first and the last; I am he that liveth, and 
 
146 ETERNITY OF CxOD. 
 
 was dead [then it must be the crucified one who thus liveth 
 and was dead] ; and, behold, I am alive forevermore, amen, 
 and have the keys of hell and of death." In the plain 
 attempt of a New Testament author to prove the divinitj of 
 his Lord, he quotes from the Old Testament a few decisive 
 words ; and while the Psalmist obviously addresses those 
 words to Jehovah, the writer to the Hebrews as directly 
 addresses them to Christ, and says : " Thou, Lord, in the 
 beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth, and the 
 heavens are the works of thy hands. They shall perish, but 
 thou remainest ; and they all shall wax old as a garment, 
 and as a vesture shalt thou fold them up, and they shall be 
 changed ; but thou art the same, and thy years shall not 
 fail." We are redeemed, then, not with silver and gold, but 
 with the precious blood of one who is said to be the same 
 yesterday, to-day, and forever, and therefore has the dis- 
 tinctive attribute of the Father in whom is no variableness, 
 and on whom not even the shadow of a turning ever passes. 
 It is no ephemeral surety, this which is given us for our 
 future blessedness ; for " in the beginning was the Word, 
 and the Word was with God, and the Word was God," and 
 became flesh, and he " shall reign over the house of Jacob 
 forever, and of his kingdom there shall be no end." It is 
 no sudden impulse of love which prompts him to rescue us 
 from the pains which a violated law has threatened, but he 
 is to say : " Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the king- 
 dom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." 
 It was before the morning stars sang together that Christ 
 offered himself as a substitute for lost men, and said : " Lo, 
 I come ; in the volume of the book it is written of me, I 
 delight to do thy will, my God." Because the Saviour 
 consented in eternity to be a sacrifice for us, God formed the 
 plan of a church, and devised the ordinances of salvation. 
 We are favored with the gospel " according to the eternal 
 purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord." We 
 are saved " according to his own purpose and grace which 
 
ETERNITY OF GOD. 147 
 
 was given us in Christ Jesus before times eternal." Hence 
 we derive an assurance that as our Redeemer had the spirit 
 of self-sacrifice for us before time began, so he " ever liveth 
 to make intercession for" us; that, having loved his own 
 from the beginning, he will be with them " alway, even unto 
 the end of the world" ; that as he promised in the eternity 
 gone by to make it consistent for God to pardon sin, so, 
 having in time fulfilled that promise, he is highly exalted, 
 and at his name every knee shall bow, and every tongue 
 confess that he is Lord, whose dominion shall be without 
 end, as it has been without beginning. 
 
 Fourthly, it is a legitimate sequence from the remarks 
 preceding, that the beginningless and endless existence of 
 Jehovah is a theme of solace to his friends. According to 
 the dying words of Moses, ' The eternal God is their refuge, 
 and underneath them are the everlasting arms.' We love 
 to know that ' before the mountains were brought forth, or 
 ever he had formed the earth and the world, even from ever- 
 lasting to everlasting, he is God,' and therefore needs no 
 aid from other beings ; and although he condescends to ask 
 for their homage, yet he is puissant enough to retain his 
 blessedness without them. Grand is that anthem of the 
 Psalmist : " Forever, Lord, thy word is settled in heaven." 
 There is sublimity in the past solitude of that great Spirit 
 who is supposed to have lived through eternal cycles ere 
 he created the universe, and who then made darkness his 
 pavilion. And " this God," saith the Psalmist, " is our God 
 forever and ever, he will be our guide even unto death." 
 While we have a feeling of desertion, we are comforted by 
 the thought that in his eternal solitariness the omniscient 
 One had all the bliss of the most intimate society. We have 
 not heard at what period he created other minds ; but before 
 he spake them into life he knew them as thoroughly as they 
 can be known now. He had no society with them in the 
 sense of receiving from them fresh communication of before 
 
148 ETERNITY OF GOD. 
 
 unnoticed love ; but he foresaw their homage to him, he 
 enjoyed their fealty to the right, and this is the spirit of 
 society. He was blissful, too, in the contemplation of his 
 own excellences. Men speak of an intercourse among the 
 persons of the Godhead. There was among them no inter- 
 change of sentiments previously unknown to each other, no 
 expression of a thought novel to either one of them ; but the 
 Godhead has ever loved the distinctions in his own being, 
 and with a serene delight has contemplated from everlasting 
 their sacred offices, and this communion with himself is 
 heaven — the spirit of a social heaven. We are made to be 
 cheerful in the thought that he has ever been in the fruition 
 of all that can be now enjoyed. He had an eternal beatitude 
 in his own plans, in the foresight of their accomplishment. 
 Even we, the imperfect images of him, derive enjoyment from 
 the anticipation of our pleasures ; a human architect finds 
 a delight in the prophetic view of the structure which he 
 rears. But in God's eternity anticipation is vision ; memory 
 has all the vividness of present sight. We are solaced by 
 the thought that our Defender is thus, and was ever, elevated 
 above all sources of discontent, and he chooses to make u& 
 ultimately like himself. " If ye loved me," may every dying 
 saint exclaim, "ye would rejoice because I said that I go 
 unto my Father, for my Father is greater [in a happier con- 
 dition] than I." "As for God," saith the Psalmist, " his way 
 is perfect ; the word, of the Lord is tried ; . . . for who is God 
 save the Lord ? or who is a rock [firm, strong, durable] save 
 our God ? . . . . The Lord is clothed with strength, wherewith 
 he hath girded himseK. . . . Thy throne is established of old ; 
 thou art from everlasting." 
 
 There are times when the faith of good men fails, when 
 they feel that their hope had been excited merely to be 
 baffled. But are they afflicted in consequence of a sudden 
 impulse of their Ruler ? Was his an unpremeditated purpose 
 thus to confound their anticipations ? Throughout a begin- 
 ningless life was it revolvingi, or rather fixed, in his all- 
 
ETEENITY OF GOD. 149 
 
 comprehending mind. We are to trust the matured wisdom 
 of his most incomprehensible act. " For behold," saith an 
 Eastern sage, " God is great, and we know him not ; neither 
 can the number of his years be searched out"; and in the 
 omniscience of those numberless years are garnered reasons 
 which we cannot explore for disasters the good fruits of 
 which we cannot now detect. " Where wast thou when I laid 
 the foundations of the earth ? Declare, if thou hast under- 
 standing." The creature of a day cannot arraign him whose 
 eternity is a symbol and a proof of all his other perfections. 
 It suggests the most amiable of his attributes. It is freighted 
 with them. His eternity is an eternity of watchful love. 
 " Thus saith the Lord, the King of Israel, and his Redeemer, 
 the Lord of Hosts : I am the first, and I am the last ; and 
 
 beside me there is no God Fear ye not, neither be afraid : 
 
 have not I told thee from that time, and have declared it ? 
 Ye are even my witnesses. Is there a God beside me ? Yea, 
 there is no God ; I know not any." 
 
 And as we are to alleviate our troubles by reflecting on 
 the delibcrateness of the counsels from which they sprang, 
 so we are to heighten our joy by reflecting on the constancy 
 of the grace which planned it from the beginning. He who 
 counted all our tears, long before he called them forth, did 
 also, with the same prevenient care, devise the scheme for 
 all our pleasures. Not one of them but is the fruit of his 
 protracted contemplation and tenderness of pity. " For thus 
 saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, I dwell 
 in the high and holy place ; with him also that is of a con- 
 trite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, 
 and to revive the heart of the contrite ones. For I will not 
 contend forever, neither will I be always wroth ; for the 
 spirit should fail before me, and the souls which I have 
 made. I have seen his ways, and will heal him ; I will lead 
 him also, and restore comforts unto him and to his mourners ; 
 
 I have loved thee with an everlasting love, therefore 
 
 with lovinjir-kindness have I drawn thee And I will 
 
150 ETERNITY OF GOD. 
 
 betrotli thee unto me forever; in righteousness, in judg- 
 ment, in loving-kindness, in mercies : I will even betroth 
 thee unto me in faithfulness." Hence the exultant cry of 
 David, "Thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and thy 
 dominion endureth throughout all generations " ; and it fol- 
 lows, therefore, "The Lord upholdeth all that fall, and 
 raiseth up all those that be bowed down." 
 
 There are men emulous of fame that shall never die. They 
 long to have their names engraved " on stone and ever-during 
 brass," for the emulation of distant ages. But the man who 
 has a humble and contrite heart shall be known and honored 
 by the one mind compared with whom all other minds who 
 might know and honor him are as nothing. Instead of 
 aspiring for the praise of the multitude, he should aspire for 
 the approval of him who is himself the majority of intelli- 
 gences. All the virtues of a man, feeble and slight as they 
 may be, shall be treasured up in the unbounded recollection, 
 and shall receive the complacential love, of a Spirit who 
 comprehendeth all other spirits within himself. The good 
 memory of the wicked shall fade away; they sought their 
 life and shall lose it ; but the righteous, humble and despised 
 here, shall flourish in everlasting remembrance — the remem- 
 brance of him who holdeth fast all that is ever committed 
 to him, and causeth good men to shine more and more unto 
 the perfect day, and to sing that unceasing doxology, " Unto 
 him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own 
 blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and 
 his Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. 
 Amen." 
 
 Fifthly, as the eternity of God stimulates the Christian 
 with hope, so it is fitted to alarm the ungodly. Some of the 
 most fearful pains ever borne by a man have resulted from 
 the monotony of his circumstances. To be condemned to 
 see forever the same object, though indifferent in itself ; to 
 hear forever the same sound, neither agreeable nor disagree- 
 
ETERNITY OF GOD. 15J 
 
 able intrinsically, would be past endurance. The heathen 
 poets feigned the punishments of their Tartarus to be such 
 as these : to roll up forever the same recoiling stone, to 
 grasp forever at the same retreating bough, to be filling 
 forever the same emptying sieve, to strive forever to drink 
 of the same vanishing stream. Some of the severest penalties 
 of the Inquisition have been such as these : to sit in one 
 place week after week, to have the surrounding silence in- 
 terrupted by one and the same word repeated every minute 
 through successive months, to have a single drop of water 
 fall upon the head at the end of every thirty seconds. This 
 undeviating recurrence of the same thing, trivial though it 
 be in itself, derives its fearf ulness from its perpetuity. Now 
 to dwell forever with the eye of one Being whom we do not 
 love constantly fixed upon us ; which way soever we turn, to 
 behold that same face, which is as the sun shining in its 
 strength, and to descry in it no signs of complacence in our 
 character — the unending monotony of this appeal to con- 
 science would be painful enough to suggest the biblical de- 
 scriptions of our punishment. But to live forever under the 
 eye of Him who abhors our character because it is intrinsically 
 mean ; of Him whom we have not allowed, and will not 
 allow, to reign over us ; of Him whom we have chosen, and 
 persevere in choosing, to dethrone so far as his empire over 
 our wills is concerned ; of him who has borne long with us, 
 and counselled and entreated us to escape his just inflictions, 
 and we loould not, — this is to live under an interminable 
 appeal to the moral faculty ; and this appeal will preserve 
 the faculty in its normal exercise ; and in its normal exercise 
 it will never cease to feel compunction for sin. Left to itself, 
 conscience never forgives a wrong act. It is a correlate of 
 the divine justice ; and this justice, left to itself, and working 
 without the influence of the atonement, awakens that remorse 
 which constitutes the unending moral punishment. It is 
 therefore to his own conscience, as well as to Him who pre- 
 serves it in its normal exercise, that the incorrigible trans- 
 
152 ETEENITY OF GOD. 
 
 gressor will exclaim, with a meaning unlike that of the 
 Psalmist : ' Whither shall I go from thy presence, and 
 whither shall I flee from thy spirit ? If I ascend unto 
 heaven, thou art there ; if I make my bed in the underworld, 
 behold, thou art there.' 
 
 The eternity of God has the same reference to duration 
 which his omnipresence has to space. As all of Jehovah is 
 in every spot, so all of Jehovah is in every minute. There 
 is no diluiion of his existence — no drawing of it out, a por- 
 tion at a time, a part in a place ; but the whole of it at every 
 time, in every place, — the entire infinity of that just One in 
 all his intensity of abhorrence toward all wrong, — this is 
 before the sinner's eye and ear, in contact with his quickened 
 conscience, without intermission, without end, without a 
 moment's relief occasioned by the faintest hope of most 
 distant end. Could there be the slightest ray of anticipation 
 that after the sands which compose the earth should have 
 dropped away, one after another, and every other after an 
 interval of a thousand years, this gaze of infinite holiness 
 upon the persistent malefactor would cease, then from this 
 bare anticipation would flow forth a rich relief. But eternity, 
 — the ineffable meaning compressed into that one hopeless 
 word, — who shall gauge the depths of it! The mind sinks 
 underneath it. Language fails. Never in this life can we 
 explore the full significance of the asseverations : " The 
 Lord shall endure forever ; he hath prepared his throne for 
 judgment " ; " For I lift my hand to heaven, and say, I 
 live forever." What a pathos lies hidden in the words: 
 " Will the Lord cast off forever ?" " Is his mercy clean gone 
 forever?" 
 
 Our sins may have been committed long ago, and may 
 well nigh have vanished from our vision ; but all the sins of 
 the longest life are like fresh events to the mind of him who 
 is without beginning of days or end of years. This is the 
 significance of his (sternal now. It is as if every period of 
 existence were the present instant, and as if the present instant 
 
ETERNITY OF GOD. 153 
 
 were every period of existence. We seek relief by imagining 
 that sins committed within the brief space of our present life 
 cannot share in his everlasting remembrance ; but with him 
 who has existed from eternity one day is prolonged even as 
 a thousand years, and our life of threescore years and ten is 
 as thousands of centuries. Our measures of length and 
 shortness of duration are not his measures. He judges by 
 acting principles, rather than by their outward development ; 
 for in the acting principles of character he detects their 
 interminable results. Accordingly, that simple truth, Right 
 is right, and remains always right, always fit for and con- 
 gruous with the approval of conscience, — will always breathe 
 comfort into the souls of men who are loyal to their Maker, 
 and will cheer them with the anticipation of their far more 
 exceeding and eternal weight of glory ; for they rejoice in 
 the anthem : " Thou, Lord, remainest forever ; and thy 
 throne from generation to generation." But the converse of 
 that truth — Wrong is wrong, and remains always wrong, 
 always deserving with the merit of condignity the disapproval 
 of conscience and the Lord of the conscience — will bring 
 new despondency into the souls of men who persevere in 
 their wrong-doing ; for their conscience points them to the 
 words : " The Lord shall reign forever and ever." One and 
 the same theme, — the eternity of God, — how it will exalt 
 the mind in triumph when the meditations on it are turned 
 upward, and depress it in awe when they are turned down- 
 ward! 
 
 As the last sands of the old year are soon to fall, we are 
 reminded of the contrast between man and his Maker. 
 * Behold God has made our days as a hand-breath, and our 
 age is as nothing before him.' Our days are passed away 
 as the swift ships, as the eagle that hasteth to the prey. God 
 is likened to a rock, and to the everlasting hills ; but " all 
 flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower 
 of the field." A vapor thin and evanescent, a dream mo- 
 mentary and deceitful, — such is the life of man. 
 
154 ETERNITY OF GOD. 
 
 The friends of our youth, where are they ? Dropping, one 
 by one, out of our sight ; and we, if we are left long, shall be 
 left alone, mourning that it is no more with us as in the 
 bright morning of the past. When alone, however, we may 
 listen to the words of him who says : " See, now, that I, even 
 I, am he, and there is no god with me : I kill and I make 
 alive, I wound and I heal. For I lift my hand to heaven, 
 and say, I live forever." With us the old year is hastening 
 backward, and the new year is hastening forward. 
 
 " Our lives through various scenes are drawn, 
 And vexed with trifling cares ; 
 While thine eternal thoughts move on 
 Thine undisturbed affairs. 
 " Eternity with all its years 
 
 Stands present in thy view ; 
 To thee there 's nothing old appears, 
 Great God ! there 's nothing new." 
 
 We are, indeed, but an image of him, unlike the substance. 
 We are but a shadow of him, vacant, fickle, vanishing away. 
 To his past eternity we have nothing in ourselves that corre- 
 sponds. Our future eternity is but the result of his will. His 
 will is that while time lasts we prepare for the eternity which 
 is soon to come. In a few more years ' the angel shall stand 
 upon the sea and upon the earth, and lift up his right hand 
 to heaven, and swear by him that liveth forever and ever, — 
 who created the heaven and the things that are therein, and 
 the earth and the things that are therein, and the sea and 
 the things that are therein, that there shall be time no 
 longer.' Let us so live that we may then have the seal of 
 God upon our foreheads, that we may not be hurt by the 
 second death. 
 
ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD ARE 
 COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. 
 
 I JOHN IV. le. 
 GOD 18 LOVB. 
 
 What is the character of Jehovah ? No other query can 
 be so interesting as this. We are inquisitive to learn what 
 were the traits of our ancestors ; but our dependence on an 
 earthly progenitor, when compared with our dependence on 
 our Father in heaven, is as nothing. We are eager to inquire 
 what is the disposition of our rulers; but Jehovah is the 
 Potentate on whom we rely for our very breath. We are 
 restless to ascertain what are the qualities of the companion 
 with whom we must be associated during a protracted journey 
 or voyage ; but life is the real journey, the real voyage, and 
 God is the Being with whom we must remain in ceaseless 
 contiguity. Sickness will not separate us from him. Death 
 will augment our nearness to him. Eternity will be spent 
 in his immediate vision. His smile or frown we shall see 
 always. His voice we shall hear without a pause. Wlio, 
 then, and what, is this Being, so much more intimately con- 
 joined with us than is any ancestor, so much more powerful 
 over us than is any human governor, so much nearer to us than 
 is any earthly companion ? Our anxieties are relieved by the 
 answer given to this question by our text. There is a solace 
 in the very words of it. Not in our whole language are 
 three syllables more affluent in meaning. All our associations 
 
156 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 with the word " God" are fitted to awaken re\erence. All 
 our associations with the word " love " call forth a tenderness 
 of interest ; and when the awe elicited bj the name of 
 Jehovah is combined with the reciprocated affection elicited 
 by the idea of benevolence, — when we read that God is love, 
 — we are amazed as well as gladdened by the enunciation, 
 and we inquire for the definite meaning and the practical 
 results of it. 
 
 I. Our first impulse is to ascertain the precise import of the 
 words in our text. "We do not read in the sacred volume 
 that Gabriel is benevolence, nor that Michael is benevolence, 
 nor that Abraham, David, Jeremiah, Paul, or even John, is 
 benevolence ; but we do read the emphatic utterance, " God 
 is love." Inspiration does not inform us that Jehovah is all 
 power or all knowledge, that he is unchangeableness or eter- 
 nity, but he is love. Not merely are we assured that he has 
 benevolence, that this is one among other feelings which he 
 puts forth, that it is a virtue which appertains to him even 
 as we read that "power belongeth unto God"; but he is 
 benevolence itself. Of course, he possesses natural attributes, 
 such as omnipotence and omniscience ; but our text implies 
 that these are controlled by the moral choice of the universal 
 well-being. Of course, he feels indignation against the malice 
 of his enemies, and an infinite disapproval of their sin in 
 every form of it ; but these are constitutional sentiments, and 
 our text implies that they are subservient to, and governed 
 by, a wise preference for the welfare of the universe. We 
 should render but little glory to his power or knowledge 
 were it not guided by a benignant spirit. We should recoil 
 from his eternity and immutability were they not a ceaseless 
 duration of a love which comprehends all the virtues, and 
 knows not the shadow of a change. While, then, our text 
 implies indirectly that all the natural attributes and involun- 
 tary sentiments of Jehovah are controlled and ennobled by 
 his good-will, it implies also that all his moral choice is the 
 
ARE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. 167 
 
 choice of the general rather than the private welfare of 
 sentient beings ; it is the elective preference for the greater 
 above the smaller, for the higher above the lower, welfare of 
 all beings who have a capacity for either holiness or happi- 
 ness. This choice or elective preference is put forth on the 
 ground of, and in proportion to, the worth or value of those 
 beings. In the Biblical language it is called love, and thus 
 by a figure substituting the act for the agent, God is love. 
 
 II. Having thus explained the meaning of the text, let us 
 proceed, in the second place, to prove its main doctrine, that 
 all the free choices of the Most High are comprehended in a 
 single, continuous preference for the largest and highest 
 well-being of the universe. 
 
 1. One proof is derived from the fact that all goodness 
 of heart is by the inspired writers summed up in love. 
 They require of us nothing more or less than to be per- 
 fect, as our Father in heaven is perfect, and they affirm 
 that all the law is fulfilled in one word : " Thou shalt love 
 thy neighbor as thyself." The law is a transcript of the 
 divine perfections ; by learning what his commands are, we 
 learn what God is ; yet " he that loveth another hath fulfilled 
 the law." So says an apostle, and he elsewhere teaches that 
 love is the fulfilling of the law — the very law which requires 
 all our duties, and is " exceeding broad." "We are assured 
 that all gifts of tongues and of prophecy, all knowledge and 
 faith, all outward virtues are nothing, and profit nothing, 
 without love. They may be the body of virtue, but love is 
 the soul of it. They may be the concomitants of virtue, but 
 love is its essence. We are informed that the end of the 
 commandment — its final purpose, its ultimate design, to 
 which all the parts of it aim and point — is love, not by any 
 means an involuntary kindness, but a free, loving choice. 
 The most spiritual expounder of the divine law has taught 
 us that "this is the first and great commandment: Thou 
 shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all 
 
158 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 thy soul, and with all tliy mind ; and the second is like unto 
 it : Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyseK. On these two 
 commandments hang all the law and the prophets." \Vhere 
 there is no comprehensive love, no benignant election of the 
 general welfare, there may be amiable instincts, beautiful 
 sentiments, but there is no true moral goodness. It is the 
 first and the last teaching of the Bible, — on the surface of 
 it and in the depths of it, — that the highest of all virtues is 
 the choice of God as our supreme object of regard ; and if 
 there be any other commandment, it is briefly comprehended 
 in this saying : " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." 
 
 2. An examination of the nature of God's moral attributes 
 gives a second proof that they are all involved in the choice 
 of the general welfare. What are these attributes ? One of 
 them is a voluntary regard for the happiness of beings con- 
 sidered as merely sentient. This is unmodified benevo- 
 lence. Another moral perfection still more attractive is a 
 love for the happiness of beings considered as miserable. 
 This is mercy, and this is benevolence combined with constitu- 
 tional pity, and the holiness of it lies in the voluntary good- 
 will rather than in the mere natural compassion. A yet 
 brighter moral attribute of God is a regard for the welfare 
 of beings considered as evil-doers. This is grace, and this 
 is benevolence associated with a natural disapprobation of 
 wrong, and the holiness of it consists in the free benevolence, 
 rather than in the disapproving act of conscience. 
 
 One adorable moral attribute of Jehovah is holiness viewed 
 as love toward all that is morally right and as hatred toward 
 all that is morally wrong ; viewed as love toward benevolence, 
 not merely because benevolence is connected with happiness, 
 but also because it is a good in its own nature ; viewed as 
 hatred toward malevolence, not merely because malevolence 
 is adverse to happiness, but also because it is an evil in its 
 own nature. Now the benevolence of Jehovah comprehends 
 a love for all that is good, and benevolence is itself a good, — 
 
AEE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. 159 
 
 its very name is moral goodness. The benevolence of Jehovah 
 comprehends a hatred of all that is evil, and malevolence is 
 itself an evil, — its very name is moral evil. As the love ex- 
 ercised by Jehovah is a choice of the general rather than of 
 a private good, so its alternate form is a rejection of the 
 private rather than of the general good. His hatred of sin 
 is in its essence the same virtue as his preference for the 
 greater above the smaller well-being of the universe, himself 
 included in the universe. His hatred of wrong is the same 
 virtue with, and is only the alternate form of, his love of 
 right ; and right though connected with happiness is distinct 
 from and nobler than mere happiness, as wrong though con- 
 nected with misery is distinct from and worse than simple 
 misery. Thus the holiness of God is a form of benevolence. 
 
 Another of his moral attributes is justice. Is this a form of 
 love ? As the benevolence of God is an elective preference 
 for the higher above the lower kind, and for the larger above 
 the smaller amount, of the general well-being,^ so in its very 
 nature it involves a choice to bestow a reward upon all who 
 strictly deserve and can fitly claim to be rewarded for exer- 
 cising the same kind of preference, and it also involves a 
 choice to inflict a punishment upon all who remain under 
 law, and who deserve to be punished for exercising the 
 contrary preference. As the love of right has for its alternate 
 form a hatred of wrong, so the choice to bestow a reward 
 upon those who strictly deserve and can justly claim to 
 be rewarded has for its alternate form a choice to inflict a 
 punishment upon those who while under law deserve to be 
 punished. It is very true that God does not look upon our 
 holiness as entitled on the ground of its own merit to the 
 
 1 Some writers appear to make a distinction between " ivelfare " and " well- 
 being" ; to use " welfare" as generic, including both happiness which they terra 
 "well-6c!"n7" and also moral goodness which they term welWo//?/;." The dis- 
 tinction is convenient and deserves to be considered, but it is not adopted 
 generally. The happiness is so indissolubly connected with the moral " well- 
 doing," and the liighest form of happiness is so inextricably involved in the pro- 
 cess of this "well-doing," that the two conditions are both expressed by the 
 word " well-being " as synonymous with the word " welfare." 
 
160 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OP GOD 
 
 recompense of happiness. If he did look upon it as having 
 this merit of condignity, his will to bestow the deserved 
 recompense would be comprehended in good-will to the 
 universe. But he does look upon our sin as in its own nature 
 deserving the recompense of pain ; his will to inflict this 
 merited recompense is not ill-will to the universe ; it is good 
 will. The volition to inflict a just penalty on a foe to the 
 common good has the same nature with a volition to bestow 
 a strictly just reward on a friend to the common good. The 
 two volitions are the positive and negative poles of one 
 comprehensive choice. Thus our Ruler is comprehensively 
 benevolent in being just. He is just, not in despite of, but 
 on account of, his benevolence. His will to punish trans- 
 gressors according to their demerit is attended with dis- 
 placency and indignation toward moral evil ; but these senti- 
 ments are the guard and the outward majesty, rather than 
 the essence, of the virtue that is admired in the justice.^ 
 
 Yet another moral attribute of the Most High is veracity. 
 And is this love ? It is a choice to promote the natural or 
 moral welfare of beings by using the signs of thought in 
 exact conformity with the thought itself. What, then, is 
 this attribute more than a preference for the dignity and 
 virtue of all beings capable of dignity and virtue ; the pre- 
 ference being associated with and adorned by an involuntary, 
 and therefore not a moral, sense of fitness ? 
 
 These are the divine attributes which consist in the re- 
 sponsible exercise of free will. They are modifications of one 
 generic choice animating the different sensibilities associated 
 with it. 
 
 3. The past history of God's dispensations gives a third 
 proof that all his moral excellences are comprehended in his 
 choice of the general well-being. His entire character is in- 
 dicated when the Omnipotent Monarch converses with Moses 
 like a friend, becomes as intimate with David as if he were 
 
 ^ See Note at the end of the Sermon, pp. 176 sq. 
 
ARE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. 161 
 
 only an equal to a shepherd boy, dries up the tears of Jere- 
 miah, and as a mother tends her children so does he fold 
 all the prophets in his embrace. There are acts of God 
 which, because they have other natural elements, appear to 
 have some other moral element than that of good-will. The 
 sensibilities connected with his affection for men when they 
 do right are different from the sensibilities connected with 
 his aversion to them when they do wrong; but the moral 
 principle in both exercises is the same. It was primarily 
 because he yearned with an infinite kindness over the ante- 
 diluvian world that, in the simple language of inspiration, 
 the sight of human depravity made him repent that he had 
 created man, and grieved him at his heart. It was originally 
 because he cherished a pure love for those transgressors that 
 he hated their waste of probationary time in eating and 
 drinking, without care or thought of spiritual truth. It was 
 first because he delighted in the spiritual peace of society 
 that he abhorred the race by whom the earth was filled 
 with violence. It was because his benevolence prompted 
 him to check the tide of their corruption that he poured the 
 flood upon them, and made their sudden overthrow a motive 
 to deter future generations from their imbruted life. The 
 retributions which he sent upon Sodom and Gomorrah were 
 effluences of his choice to promote the highest welfare 
 of his universe. Had hq not preferred their well-being, he 
 would not have loathed their belittling usages ; and had he 
 not chosen to prevent the contagion of their sin, he would 
 not have buried up their cities, even as a pest-house is con- 
 sumed when its very atmosphere becomes infectious. And 
 with what signs of tenderness is all this needful discipline 
 relieved ! " Shall I hide from Abraham that thing which I 
 do ? " said the kind Father, who would never have raised his 
 hand against his children, unless their sin against him had 
 been very grievous. And does not the confiding language 
 of Abraham attest his intimate conviction that the just Judge 
 is ever benignant ? For with what a childlike trust does the 
 
162 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 patriarch intercede with his Maker : ' Wilt thou destroy the 
 righteous with the wicked? That be far from thee to do 
 after this manner. Peradventure there shall lack five of the 
 fifty righteous, wilt thou destroy all the city for the lack of 
 five ? ' And he to whom punishment is a strange work 
 reveals his character in the reply : ' If there be ten righteous 
 found in the city, I will not destroy it for ten's sake.' So 
 generous are the compassions of the Lord, that when he 
 threatened the men of Nineveh with dire ruin, he was quick 
 to pardon them at their incipient reformation. Inimitable 
 was the sympathy which flowed from him as he pleaded with 
 the unyielding prophet in behalf of these guilty men, and 
 justified his readiness to forgive their sins and relieve their 
 terrors : " And should I not spare that great city, wherein 
 are more than six score thousand persons that cannot dis- 
 cern between their right hand and their left hand, and also 
 much cattle ? " He hesitates to overthrow the magnificent 
 palaces inhabited by transgressors whose hearts are harder 
 than the marble in which they live, because round about those 
 palaces are the mute animals which his love has called into 
 life, and in his love they all live and breathe. Manifold are 
 the developments of divine justice, some of which have caused 
 the ears of the men who heard them to tingle ; but the spirit 
 of them all is illustrated in that one deed of the Holy and 
 Just One, who " so loved the world that he gave his only 
 begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not 
 perish, but have everlasting life." Herein is love, — justice 
 also, but justice involving the moral element of love, — not 
 that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to 
 be the propitiation for our sins, with which sins he is most 
 fully displeased, but over which he chooses that his grace 
 reign triumphant. 
 
 III. Having now considered the meaning of our text and 
 the proof of the doctrine involved in it, let us, thirdly, con- 
 sider some of the practical truths which result from it. 
 
ARE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOTE. 163 
 
 1. The doctrine suggests the unity of God's character and 
 government. All the varying tones of an anthem delight us, 
 when we catch the one sentiment which vivifies them. We 
 are charmed with the cathedral, whose choir, nave, turrets, 
 have such fitnesses to each other as to make an undivided 
 impression. The planetary system we admire for the simple 
 force which controls its movements. All the works of the 
 great Architect afford a symbol of the unity which exists in 
 himself. One great principle permeates the phenomena of 
 the suns and the stars, just as a single moral feeling is ex- 
 pressed in the countless acts of Him who develops his unity 
 even in his material creations. Much more does he exhibit 
 a oneness in his law. Beautiful is the simplicity of all his 
 commandments. As he requires that we love sentient beings, 
 so he is consistent with himseK, and requires a special love 
 for his own offspring, who are the objects of his kind care, 
 and who are made in his image, a part of which they still 
 retain. There is a wise proportion in the mandate, With all 
 thy heart shalt thou love the Infinite One, who encloses the 
 universe in his affection, and as thyseK shalt thou love thy 
 neighbor, who is finite, and has no claim on all thy heart 
 and soul and mind and strength, but is presumed to be thine 
 equal in merit, and is accordingly to be loved as thyself. The 
 harmony which pervades the character of God moves him to 
 call for our repentance. For what is repentance ? It is a 
 hatred for our sin, and involves a sorrow for it. And what has 
 been our sin ? It has been a choice of something other than 
 the highest good. Our voluntary hatred of this choice, then, 
 is but another form of our love to the highest good ; and this 
 is our benevolence, as well as our repentance, and is in 
 beautiful agreement with the character of Him who hateth 
 all opposition to the social and moral improvement of the 
 universe. If wc mourn over our iniquities, we must rely for 
 our eternal life on him who died for them. But this reliance 
 is mere presumption, unless it be prompted by love, and 
 commingled with it. Accordingly, God requires faith, — not 
 
164 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 the faith which is a tinkling cymbal, being devoid of charity, 
 but the faith which clings with affection to the atoning Sac- 
 rifice ; the affectionatencss of the faith embracing that moral 
 principle which in the Biblical style is called love, and in the 
 style of some divines is called a supreme choice of God, of 
 his character, of his moral government. Being commanded 
 to believe in Christ, we are also commanded to exercise forti- 
 tude, courage, submission, patience, perseverance ; not merely 
 to feel the sentiments which fit us to encounter and endure 
 pain, — these are cherished by savages, by unrenewed, ob- 
 durate transgressors, — but to put forth the moral preferences 
 which fit us to do and bear all things so that we may please 
 him whom we love because he hath first loved us. 
 
 And as our one Sovereign has thus prescribed for us a 
 symmetrical code of precepts, so has he offered heaven to 
 us on conditions congruous Avith one another. He tries 
 every inducement in varying the phases of the one principle 
 that he who believeth shall be saved. He proffers heaven 
 to us on the condition that we visit the fatherless and the 
 widow in their affliction, that we relieve the solitude of the 
 prisoner, put garments on the unclothed, welcome the stranger 
 to our fireside, supply the hungry with bread, reach out the 
 cup of cold water to one who is athirst, — all these charities 
 being performed with such a love for the destitute as is 
 proportioned to their worth, and such a love for their Maker 
 as agrees with his supreme claims. Whosoever shall keep 
 the least of the commandments shall not lose his reward, 
 even as he who offends in one point violates the whole law. 
 Not more obvious is it that one vital force extends through 
 every nerve, vein, artery, of the body than is the fact that 
 one principle vitalizes the entire law and the entire gospel. 
 
 It is in consequence of this one principle that all the condi- 
 tions on which our eternal welfare is suspended may be easily 
 understood. Each one explains every other. Children, who 
 learn the meaning of a hard word by its connection with a plain 
 one, catch the significance of a recondite part of the law by 
 
ARE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. 165 
 
 its union with the single element of love which pervades the 
 entire law. The wayfaring man, though a fool, need not 
 err in regard to the way of salvation ; for whatever might 
 be dark if insulated borrows light from its adjuncts — they 
 all shining in the radiance of love. 
 
 Heartily, then, do we rejoice in the assurance not only 
 that there is one God, but that God is one in his moral attri- 
 butes. Our mind is lilie a sea, whose waters are restless 
 even in their lowest depths. We have tendencies in our 
 inferior nature warring against the higher principles of our 
 being. Our life is a struggle, a wrestle, a fight of affliction. 
 We crucify ourselves in the combat with our inward foes. 
 But we rejoice that there is a mind free from the complexities 
 and discrepancies that mar our character ; having no inward 
 strife to quell, no intestine contradictions to reconcile, no 
 disparities nor inaptitudes to subdue. We are calmed by 
 the announcement, " I am that I am " ; for this indicates an 
 elevation above all inward fears ; and the heavenly rest 
 begins in our hearts when we drink in the full, conciliating, 
 alluring words, " God is love." 
 
 2. The fact that all the moral attributes of Jehovah are 
 comprised in benevolence shows that he is amiable amid 
 his severest dispensations. Men have imagined that his 
 benignity is incompatible with the infliction of pain. They 
 have supposed his love to be an easiness of spirit, an unintel- 
 ligent aversion to all forms of distress. Will a sensitive 
 father, it is asked, consign his own offspring to perpetual 
 agony ? Can a mother endure, will she willingly allow, the 
 sufferings of her babe ? To God, his creatures are dearer 
 than are children to an earthly parent, and will he afflict 
 them ? But the benevolence of our spiritual parent is not 
 an irrational partiality for our race. It were degraded by 
 confounding it with an instinctive liking, a constitutional, 
 sympathetic fondness. It is a remark of Leighton : " God 
 governs the world as a father, not as a mother." His love is 
 
166 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 an intelligent affection, not for one man, not for one family 
 or tribe or race or world, but for all beings who can think or 
 feel ; a preference for the system above a small part thereof ; 
 for the general happiness above an individual's pleasure ; for 
 the common holiness above the universal enjoyment. High 
 as the heavens above the earth is the benevolence of God 
 above an indifference to the virtue of men, — above a 
 willingness that they seek first their own comfort even if 
 they must find it in selfish aims. What though a doting 
 parent connives at the trangressions of his childen rather 
 than discompose their spirits which ought to be disturbed in 
 their guilty course ? The government of our Heavenly Father 
 is more extended than that of a family on earth ; it reaches 
 the bounds of the universe ; it therefore requires more care 
 in preventing sin ; it extends to the heart ; it is a deep moral 
 government ; it has access to all sources of evidence ; it is 
 able to adapt its penalties to all forms of evil ; then it is not 
 to be debased by accomodating it to the superficial, outward, 
 ephemeral policy of a narrow household, or of a nation. 
 
 Besides, imperfect and shallow as are the principles of 
 domestic and civil government, a wise benevolence does not 
 allow that even this government pass by, with an easy good 
 nature, the crimes which it can detect. It is no true friendship 
 for society to dispense with penal enactments. What chaos 
 reigns in a family, where the sons prove vile, and the father 
 restrains them not. What havoc would overspread our land, 
 if our laws with their righteous penalties did not stay the 
 irruption of crime. Not a street but assassins would infest 
 it, not a dwelling but incendiaries would bury its sleeping in- 
 mates under its ashes — if the strong arm of the magistrate 
 were not raised in kindness to the widow and the orphan, 
 protecting them and their possessions from the assault, shield- 
 ing also their spirits from fear of vagabonds and marauders. 
 All this is but a crude symbol of the beneficence which lifts 
 up the standard of law for the universe. If the petty sover- 
 eignties of the earth must raise walls of protection around 
 
ARE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. 167 
 
 the homes of men, and guard the sick and the weak from 
 the knife of the freebooter, how much more imperative is 
 the need that a vigilant dominion be established over the 
 entire system of moral agents ; that merited penalties be 
 held out for the transgressors in our world, so as to secure 
 the innocence of nobler spirits in higher worlds ; that incor- 
 rigible sinners now existing l)e punished as they deserve in 
 order to accumulate new persuasives to holiness upon the 
 minds which are to exist in all future duration. Even if the 
 contracted and external institutions of men could be safely 
 left to the principles of non-resistance — debilitating princi- 
 ples, enervating, emasculating, — still the larger and spiritual 
 dominion of the Universal Monarch demands that the wicked 
 shall by no means go unpunished. Therefore it is the benev- 
 olence of Jehovah which leads him to be severe. Penalties he 
 must threaten in order to arrest the inroads of sin, for sin is 
 ruin ; and what he threatens he must inflict, for he is vera- 
 cious, and his inflictions will secure the tempted from the 
 guilt into which they would otherwise plunge. To the right 
 hand, further than the imagination can wander; to the left 
 hand, beyond the reach of the quickest and most extended 
 thought, above us and below us, behind us and before us, 
 through all time and eternity, do the influences of his govern- 
 ment penetrate. His laws affect all spirits that have been, 
 are, or are to be. If a single edict should be repealed, or a 
 single penalty mitigated, he foresees the havoc which would 
 ensue, and his kindness forbids the abrogation of a single 
 iota of his commands. He is touched with pity for his frail 
 children, who need all allowable motives to deter them from 
 apostasy. He will afflict his enemies because he chooses to 
 defend the cause of virtue against their machinations, and 
 he will banish them from his presence, so that the good and 
 the kind, who will be the real majority of his universe, may 
 be at peace. There shall nothing hurt the conscience or 
 destroy the spirit of repose in the heavenly Jerusalem ; but 
 all shall be serene, and he who is love shall reign in the 
 affection of all the wise. 
 
168 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 3. The concentration of all God's moral attributes in love 
 illustrates the guilt and misery of incorrigible transgressors. 
 In modern as well as ancient poetry, we read of the human 
 conscience as unpitying, unrelenting, cruel, revengeful, tor- 
 menting the malefactor with a scorpion lash. Of all such 
 epithets we say that they are poetry ; they have a deep 
 meaning ; they imply that the conscience is just, is our 
 highest inward authority, deserves our obedience, our hom- 
 age. The epithets are so strong because the moral sense is 
 so important and exalted. It is our best friend ; and faithful 
 are the wounds of a friend. Men do not lose their venera- 
 tion for the moral faculty because the poets array it in robes 
 of terror. Why then should they lose their confidence in 
 God because the inspired poets tell us of his fury, jealousy, 
 vengeance, the fierceness of his wrath ; his sword, arrows ; 
 his laughing at his adversaries ? As we know that bold 
 figures of speech are employed for expressing the reproofs of 
 our inward monitor which is a correlate to the divine justice, 
 why do we wonder that bold figures are employed for express- 
 ing the normal activity of the justice itseK ? These figures 
 impress upon us two momentous truths. One is that Jeho- 
 vah has the constitutional sentiment of indignation against 
 sin ; another is that he opposes iniquity by such manifestations 
 of his abhorrence as cannot be intimated in literal speech. 
 Human language is inadequate to indicate the depth of his 
 love for the right and his hatred of the wrong. He is said to 
 be angry as he is said to repent. The words have an unut- 
 terable meaning. Perhaps no others would be so impressive 
 upon the human race as a whole. They suggest what no 
 tongue can possibly express. "We must remember that even 
 in our best descriptions of the Most High 
 
 " Thought is deeper than all speech, 
 Feeling deeper than all thought." 
 
 Our text assures us, however, that no unhallowed, no bitter 
 feeling ever rises in the divine mind. That mind is love. 
 Tliat mind, however, has enemies. These enemies demean 
 
ARE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. • 169 
 
 themselves as if their Ruler were tyrannical and cruel. A 
 stranger to them would not imagine that they were resisting a 
 benefactor, a friend faithful in their need, an ever-watchful 
 guardian, more than a parent, very pitiful, and of tender mercy. 
 The aggravation of their guilt is that they are in conflict with 
 goodness itseK ; they are in direct antagonism to the imper- 
 sonation of all pure friendship ; they recoil from a being who 
 not only loves them but is the sum of love. They reject him 
 not only while he is benevolence, but because he is impartial 
 benevolence. If he would love the few more than the many, 
 and if they themselves were among these few, they would not 
 reject him. If he would sacrifice the general welfare to their 
 own sinister aims, they would not rebel against him. But he 
 prefers the higher to the lower interests, the welfare of the 
 many to that of the few ; he chooses to promote the holy bliss 
 of heaven, and of the inhabitants of the stars of heaven, rather 
 than to accommodate the narrow policy of selfish men ; there- 
 fore selfish men discard him. If we had not known him to 
 be love itself, we had been comparatively without sin ; but 
 now we have seen and known both him and his Son, who is 
 the express image of the Father's love, and hence our sin 
 remaineth. The demerit of it he has measured. He has 
 declared that unending punishment is the fit exponent of the 
 sinner's ill-desert. He hateth nothing which he hath made. 
 He doth not afflict willingly. He heareth the young ravens 
 when they are in want. He counteth the tears that are to 
 flow from men. He is unwilling that any of his creatures 
 should heave a sigh. He is slow to elicit one groan. He 
 hath no pleasure in the death of an enemy. He chooseth 
 that all come to him and dwell in bliss. But with all these 
 yearnings of a Father's heart, he avers that the demerit of 
 sin cannot be fully manifested except by setting over against 
 it the pain which is never to end. In his grace and long- 
 suffering he has forewarned us of our peril ; he has not taken 
 us by surprise ; in his equity he has held out before us the 
 balances in which our sin is laid, — in one scale a rejection 
 
170 ALL THE MOEAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 of his love ; in the other, an eternity of woe, — the very woe 
 which he, of all other beings, is the most unwilling to inflict, 
 — unwilling because he is love ; and still he does inflict it 
 because he is impartial, wise, just love. 
 
 Here, then, is the divine estimate of our blameworthiness. 
 We may underrate it, but the omniscient Judge has gauged 
 it accurately. We are partial to our own character, but his 
 affection even for us transcends our own self-love. He then 
 cannot exaggerate our turpitude ; and the estimate which 
 has been formed of it by his boundless wisdom is one which 
 his boundless compassion is slow to express, for punishment 
 is his last work ; at the day of judgment the condemning 
 sentence is the last sentence. If he were literally revenge- 
 ful, his punitive sentence might be borne. If he delighted in 
 the misery of his offspring, they would buoy themselves up 
 against him, and their sense of right would alleviate their 
 distress. But it is not an enemy that afiflicts them, and this 
 is the emphasis of their grief. Their sorrows come from him 
 who has cried : How shall I give thee up ? why will ye die ? 
 I have no pleasure in your loss. 
 
 This is the depressing thought ever weighing down the 
 soul of the condemned. ' We are punished by him who had 
 never disturbed our peace but for the universal well-being. 
 We are in heaviness of heart, because he who once bare long 
 with us could endure our rebellion no longer. Our weariness 
 cometh from the displeasure of one who is never displeased 
 save by evil. Our own reason is our first accuser. Our own 
 conscience is our first avenger. Here is the proof of our 
 vileness : We have caused our own troubles, and our Friend 
 who is ever compassionate is not allowed by his infinite good- 
 ness to relieve us from them, and his reason for continuing 
 to inflict them is, that he is watching for the welfare of his 
 system.' The Omniscient Mind expresses the wonderfulness 
 of our disregard for the welfare of this system when he says : 
 " Hear, heavens, and give car, earth ; for the Lord hath 
 spoken ; I have nourished and brought up children, and they 
 
ABE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. 171 
 
 have rebelled against me. Be astonished, je heavens, at 
 this, and be horribly afraid, be ye very desolate, saith the 
 Lord. For my people have committed two evils ; they have 
 forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed them 
 out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water." ^ 
 
 4. Tlic fact that all the moral attributes of God are 
 concentrated in his love quickens, strengthens, and deepens 
 our confidence in his government. One class of men have 
 complained of his goverment as it is seen in the sphere of 
 nature. They have described the myriads of animals which 
 have preyed upon each other, and have been at last devoured 
 by their antagonists. They have portrayed the multitude of 
 diseases which have afflicted us and our j)rogenitors, and which 
 have made it fearful to live, while it has been more fearful to 
 die. Another class of men have complained of the divine 
 administration as it is exhibited in the Bible. They have 
 stigmatized some Biblical doctrines as hard and harsh. They 
 have criticised certain sentiments of the Psalmists and the 
 prophets, of the apostles also, and even of our blessed Lord, 
 as implying that the divine government is arbitrary or 
 unkind. No more plausible, no less plausible, objection has 
 been made against the natural, than against the supernatural, 
 government of God. Every one of these objections, however, 
 loses its force just so far as we have proof that the doctrine 
 of our text is true. Whatever attribute God possesses he 
 possesses in an infinite degree ; and if we are truly rational 
 we shall adore the ways of infinite love, even when they are 
 past finding out. 
 
 We may imagine an animalcule spending its entire life in 
 traversing a pillar of a cathedral. It is too short-sighted to 
 see the other pillars of the edifice, too short-lived to climb so 
 far as to the arches connecting them. It has no conception 
 of the arches as upheld by the pillars and as upholding the 
 roof ; not the slightest apprehension of the cathedral as a 
 
 1 Isa. i. 2 ; Jer. ii. 12, 13. 
 
172 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 whole, or of the one idea embodied in its nave, transepts, and 
 spires. We may imagine this animalcule criticising the 
 marble on which it creeps ; carping at the mountains upon it 
 so difficult to ascend, at the ravines and precipices so dan- 
 gerous to the traveller; fretting against the maker of the 
 marble because he throws needless obstructions into the 
 path of the insect which has but a single day to live, and spends 
 that day in complaining. Because we are superior to the 
 animalcule we find it hard to comprehend its criticisms. We 
 look upon the stones of the cathedral as smooth and polished ; 
 we find it difficult to imagine how there can appear to be 
 hills and valleys in the marble ; we delight in the pillars and 
 arches as harmonizing with each oilier and with the spires ; 
 we are charmed with the spires as emphasizing the idea 
 which the entire edifice expresses — the idea of aspiration 
 toward the heavens. 
 
 Whenever we hear the infidel inveighing against the doc- 
 trines which are built into the temple of divine truth, we are 
 reminded of animalcules finding fault with the cathedral. In 
 his childhood lie looked at the stars as they seemed to be 
 scattered abroad in the heavens, and he did not discern their 
 relation to each other, their order, their mutual harmonies, 
 
 — satellite balancing satellite, constellation set over against 
 constellation, one retinue of globes exactly adjusted to an- 
 other retinue. He did not deem himself qualified to con- 
 demn the mechanism of the heavens. When, however, he 
 arrives at man's estate he does not shrink from criticising 
 the doctrines of the Bible as if he comprehended all their 
 vast relations. He discovers mountains of difficulty, just as 
 the ephemera discovers them in the polished stone. He 
 confines his view to one or another doctrine which seems 
 to be centrifugal, and does not expand his vision to the cen- 
 tripetal truth which liolds all the other truths revolving in 
 harmony around it. This central truth is that God is love 
 
 — love signally manifest in God incarnate, pre-eminently 
 manifest in the Incarnate One at the hour when he was lifted 
 
ARE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. 173 
 
 up SO as to draw all men unto him. At that hour of his 
 sacrifice he drew all the truths of religion around him. Wc 
 need not deny, we should rather admit, that there are deep 
 and dark mysteries in the works and in the word of God. 
 His world was not made as we should have made it, and his 
 word was not written as we should have written it. If they 
 were not mysterious in many of their aspects they would not 
 be his works or his word. There is, however, a light shining 
 around and above the mysteries. There is such prepon- 
 derating evidence for his goodness that we should explain 
 all opposing signs in conformity with it. "We should interpret 
 the obscure by the plain, and not the plain by the obscure. 
 The dark events of the world, the dark statements of the 
 Bible, will be illumined by the radiance of his smile when we 
 are admitted into the presence of him who is infinite love. 
 
 5. The fact that all God's moral attributes are com- 
 prised in his benevolence is rich in its allurements to a 
 philanthropic and pious life. We have already attended to 
 the inspired words which represent sin as wonderful.^ It is 
 wonderful because the incentives to holiness are so powerful. 
 Regarding these incentives alone, we should presume that 
 men will love him from whom cometh down every perfect 
 gift. It is the normal tendency of love to insure a recipro- 
 cated attachment. If you wish men to weep, you must shed 
 tears in their presence; if you desire their gratitude, you 
 must bestow favors upon them ; if you love them, you expect 
 that they will love you, for even the publicans and sinners 
 return the affection wliich they receive from their fellow-men. 
 Depraved as we are, we still retain certain constitutional 
 principles prompting us to reciprocate the love of God toward 
 us. Nothing but obdurate and entire sinfulness can alto- 
 gether resist the action of these principles. Conscience 
 commands and urges us to comply with them. It promises 
 a reward for obeying them ; it threatens a punishment for 
 
 1 See p. 170 above. 
 
174 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 disobeying them ; it discerns an attractive beauty in every 
 line and feature of the divine character. Our judgment 
 advises that we consecrate ourselves to the service of him 
 who is the source from which our feebler intelligence is 
 derived, and the pattern after which it is formed. Self- 
 interest impels to the union with the Potentate from whom 
 if we separate ourselves we are punished from the presence 
 of the Lord and the glory of his power. 
 
 Various qualities have been prescribed as essential to 
 the character of a true friend. He must be one whom we 
 respect; for love will not be firm unless on the basis of 
 esteem. But our supreme love for God is favored by his 
 worthiness, not of our mere respect, nor of our mere reverence, 
 but of our adoration. A friend must be one whose attach- 
 ment is not fickle, capricious, vacillating, but fit for our 
 steady, undeviating reliance. The perfection of God's love 
 is that it endures from everlasting to everlasting. Its 
 radiance is the more cheering when our enemies would en- 
 velop us in darkness. In our desertion this friend draweth 
 the nearer to us. In our sorrow he smileth upon us the 
 more chceringly. Winning, therefore, are our motives to 
 make him our chief joy. 
 
 But to love him is to be like him. It is to love his chil- 
 dren. If we love not our brother whom we have seen, how 
 can we love God whom we have not seen ? To be a true 
 philanthropist is to intercede with God in behalf of our 
 suffering race ; to become their servant for Jesus' sake ; to 
 copy the example of him who went about doing good — who 
 was not content to forgive his enemies, but he labored, suffered 
 even unto death for them. If we love God we must love 
 men when we know them to be undeserving of our love, for 
 he is kind to the unthankful ; we must have an affection, 
 strong, firmly grounded, establisliod on principle, for enemies 
 as well as friends. The choice of Jehovah as our supreme 
 good connects us not only with our own race, but with all 
 orders of holy intelligences ; for they are all emanations 
 
ARE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOVE. 175 
 
 from Him who is our chief joy. We and they are all mem- 
 bers of one family, looking up in union to our Father which 
 is in heaven. 
 
 There is grandeur in many scenes in nature. Our thoughts 
 are elevated by the contemplation of the worlds revolving 
 around one central luminary, receiving from it light and 
 warmth, and seeming to yield a glad obeisance to it in their 
 quick revolutions. But all they who love the Lord are like 
 the stars of the firmament, and shall shine forever and ever, 
 he irradiating them with his own effulgence, and shedding 
 a warmth over and around them from his own centraliz- 
 ing and ever-flowing kindness. Evermore shall we joy in 
 reflecting the brightness of his glory. Evermore shall we 
 surround his throne, shining in his grace. Here is a new 
 incentive to a life harmonizing with his love. They who 
 harmonize with it in this world are sure of their blessedness 
 in the world to come ; and the certainty of this blessedness 
 allures them to diligence in preparing for it. "We have an 
 instinctive tendency to believe that at last truth will prevail, 
 and especially that love will triumph over its enemies. Once 
 the perfect love was humiliated; once it appeared to have 
 been conquered ; but its seeming defeat was the ground of 
 its ultimate victory. For we read that ' He who was in the 
 form of God did not regard it as a prize to be on an equality 
 with God, but emptied himself, and took the form of a servant, 
 and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross ; 
 and for this reason God highly exalted him, and gave unto 
 him the name which is above every name, that in the name 
 of Jesus every knee should bow, and every tongue confess that 
 Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.' ^ On 
 the cross our Redeemer exercised his atoning love ; his future 
 reign is the result of his atoning death ; this atoning death 
 is the great fact of the divine government ; it is the ground 
 on which the sacrifices of the old dispensation were pre- 
 
 1 Phil. ii. 5-11 ; Heb. ii. 9 sq. 
 
176 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD 
 
 scribed, and oii which the glories of the new dispensation 
 are to be perfected ; thus it is the central fact of history and 
 the central truth of the gospel. If here we are co-workers 
 with our Redeemer, if we suffer with him, we shall reign 
 with him hereafter. His reign is to be the unending honor 
 of love. His character is an ocean of love in which we 
 are to bathe, an atmosphere of love which we are to breathe. 
 What manner of persons, then, ought we to be, in all bolj 
 living and godliness, looking for and earnestly desiring the 
 coming of the day of God, — looking for the new heavens 
 and the new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness ? ^ 
 
 NOTE TO PAGE 160. 
 
 The preceding sermon, like others in the present volume, will be 
 regarded as here too strict and there not strict enough in adhering 
 to a scientific nomenclature. The writer has intended to diversify, 
 his terminology, and adopt sometimes the more philosophical and 
 sometimes the more popular forms of speech. As the doctrine of 
 the sermon is intimately connected with other doctrines, — for ex- 
 ample those of future punishment and vicarious atonement, — and 
 as the views of the writer are not exactly the same with those of 
 other writers whose main principle he adopts, he has endeavored 
 in the present Note, and at the risk of much repetition, to explain 
 his views and his language more fully than he felt authorized to 
 explain them in the sermon. 
 
 There is a retributive sentiment, which is identified by some with 
 the demand of conscience that right and wrong acts when viewed 
 merely as right and well-deserving, or as wrong and ill-deserving, 
 be recompensed according to their desert. The choice that they be 
 thus recompensed on the ground of their merit or demerit alone is 
 in harmony with this retributive sentiment. It is a choice to com- 
 ply with this sentiment. Both the choice and the sentiment may be 
 said to be united in one complex act. This act is called retributive 
 or distributive justice. We speak sometimes of legislative justice, 
 sometimes of general justice ; but when we speak of justice without 
 1 2 Pet. iii. 11-13; 1 Cor. i. 7-9 ; Titus ii. 1 1-13. 
 
ARE COMPREHENDEO IN HIS LOVE. 177 
 
 any clit,tin;^uishiug epithet we mean retributive justice. It has been 
 maintained by some that if we suppose the moral element in this 
 form of justice to be a form of benevolence we must also suppose 
 that punishment is to be inflicted not at all on account of its being 
 deserved, but altogether on account of its being useful. It is re- 
 ported that an English judge, when pronouncing sentence upon a 
 man convicted of theft, said to him : " You are transported not 
 because you have stolen these goods, but in order that goods may 
 not be stolen." So it is thought that if retributive justice, so far 
 as it is a moral attribute, be resolved into benevolence, all sin is to 
 be punished not in any degree because it is sin, but entirely because 
 it is hurtful ; not in any degree because the punishment is deserved, 
 but entirely because it tends to prevent the future recurrence of sin. 
 The following remarks may show that this utilitarian interpretation 
 of the theory is incorrect. 
 
 Happiness is a natural, but not a moral good. The choice in 
 favor of the general happiness on the ground of and in proportion 
 to its worth is a higher good. It is a moral one. It is the virtue 
 of simple benevolence. The choice in favor of this virtue on the 
 ground of and in proportion to its worth is a choice in favor of 
 happiness, and also in favor of virtue which is a nobler good than 
 mere happiness. This choice in favor of virtue and in opposition 
 to sin is termed complacential benevolence. In the exercise of it a 
 moral agent loves, i.e. has an elective preference for virtue, not 
 primarily because he calculates that his love will be useful, but pri- 
 marily because he has an intuition that virtue has a normal claim to 
 be loved, i.e. to be electively preferred. His complacential love 
 of virtue develops itself into, or is complemented by, his justice. 
 This justice is a benevolent choice that virtue be rewarded ; and 
 the just man puts forth this choice not because he calculates that the 
 reward will be useful, but because he perceives intuitively tliat the 
 reward is deserved. His choice in favor of virtue is a consistent 
 one, and becomes a choice of all that normally belongs to virtue. 
 Now the deserved recompense belongs to it, and thus his choice in 
 favor of the virtue becomes a benevolent choice in favor of its 
 deserved recompense. 
 
 The moral principle involved in punishment is the same with the 
 moral principle involved in reward. A holy man hates, i.e. volun- 
 tarily rejects, sin, not originally because he calculates that bis hatred 
 
178 ALL THE MORAL ATTRIB[JTFS OF GOD 
 
 will exert a beneficial influence, but originally because he has an 
 intuition that sin deserves to be hated, i.e. voluntarily refused, on 
 the ground of its intrinsic evil. His choice in favor of virtue is a 
 choice in opposition to sin, and as the former is termed complacen- 
 tial love, so the latter is termed displacential hatred. This hatred 
 of sin develops itself into, or is complemented by, retributive justice. 
 In the exercise of this justice, and under a government of mere law, 
 a friend of the law chooses that sin be punished, and his choice 
 results not originally from his calculation that the punishmerjt will 
 exert a beneficial influence, but originally from his intuition that 
 the punishment is deserved and ought to be inflicted. Before he 
 reflects on the mischievous tendencies of sin, or on the beneficent 
 tendencies of its punishment, his conscience demands the punish- 
 ment, and his elective preference is united with that demand. In 
 exercising this preference he limits his view to sin as ill-deser%'ing, 
 and to the punishment as strictly deserved. He enters into no 
 calculation of consequences. 
 
 Thus in the case of both reward and punishment the hatred of 
 sin overflows into justice ; the moral character of the former merges 
 itself into the latter ; the two forms of virtue differ in the con- 
 stitutional sentiments united with them, but not in the benevolence 
 which is the essence of them. The choice to reward virtue on the 
 ground of its merit has for its alternate form the choice to punish 
 sin on the ground of its demerit. Each is good-will. Each is re- 
 solvable into the choice of good and the refusal of evil. Each is 
 called retributive justice. 
 
 We now come to a different form of justice. The reward of the 
 virtuous is deserved, but an additional reason for bestowing it is its 
 fitness to do good. The punishment of the wicked is deserved, but 
 an additional reason for inflicting it is its fitness to do good. The 
 merit of the virtue is not the mere condition, but is the ground of 
 th^ usefulness of rewarding it, and the demerit of the sin is not the 
 mere condition, but is the ground of the usefulness of punishing it. 
 The choice to bestow the merited reward on the virtuous for the 
 sake of the benign influences flowing from the reward, and to 
 inflict the merited punishment on sin for the sake of the benign 
 influences flowing from the punishment is a distinct form of benevo- 
 lence as well as a distinct form of juslice. 
 
 The good-will which regards the good effects of reward and pun- 
 
ARE COMPREHENDED IN HIS LOTE. 179 
 
 ishment is comprehended under the name of general benevolence or 
 general justice. The same good-will takes different names accord- 
 ing to the different constitutional emotions with which it is united 
 and according to the different aspects in which its object is viewed. 
 As retributive or distributive justice is a name of the good-will which 
 is united with the retributive sentiment, and has regard to virtue as 
 well-deserving and sin as ill-deserving, so general justice or general 
 benevolence is a name of the good-will which is united with all the 
 sensibilities harmonizing in the best scheme of government and is 
 exercised in regard to virtue and sin in all their relations ; virtue as 
 not only well-deserving, but also beneficial in its influence ; sin as 
 not only ill-deserving, but also hurtful in its influence ; the ap- 
 propriate rewards and punishments as not only merited, but also 
 beneficial. For example : Our Redeemer is now rewarded for his 
 atoning work. His merit for this work is the merit of condignity. 
 Conscience, or the retributive sentiment, demands the reward viewed 
 merely as merited. The divine benevolence uniting with this de- 
 mand confers the merited reward. This divine benevolence in 
 union with the retributive sentiment is retributive justice. But the 
 bestowal of the reward conduces to the welfare of the universe. 
 The divine benevolence, uniting not merely with one, but with all 
 of the normal sensibilities, confers the reward on the ground of its 
 being merited and on the condition of its promoting the general 
 welfare. This form of benevolence is general justice or general 
 benevolence. 
 
 As it is benevolence which recompenses the righteous, so it is 
 benevolence which recompenses the wicked. The fallen angels 
 deserve the penalty which they are now suffering. The demand 
 of conscience or of the retributive sentiment is that they suffer 
 what they deserve, and on the ground of their deserving it. The 
 divine benevolence unites with this demand and inflicts the pun- 
 ishment viewed as simply merited. This benevolence, forming 
 with the retributive sentiment one complex act, is retributive jus- 
 tice. The voluntary act in favor of all that is merited by virtue has 
 the same moral nature with the voluntary act in favor of all that 
 is merited by sin. ]f " God is love," so " God is a consuming fire." 
 But the punishment of the fallen angels will be useful in preventing 
 sin and securing the safety of the tempted. The divine benevolence 
 uniting not simply with one, but also with all of the constitutional 
 
180 THE MORAL ATTRIBUTES OF GOD. 
 
 sensibilities which harmonize in the best scheme of government, 
 inflicts the penalty not alone on the ground of its being deserved, 
 but also on the condition of its being useful. Punishment regarded 
 merely as deserved must be inflicted in the exercise of retributive 
 justice ; regarded as both deserved and necessary for the general 
 good it must and will be inflicted in the exercise of general justice ; 
 regarded in its relation to the atonement it will be remitted to him 
 who exercises a holy trust in that atonement. Conscience demands 
 the penalty for sin in one aspect of the penalty, and approves the 
 forgiveness of sin in one aspect of the forgiveness. 
 
 The comprehensive truth may be stated thus : Our benevolent 
 Father does net administer his moral government under the influ- 
 ence of a limited attribute alone ; not under the influence of mercy 
 or grace or distributive justice without any regard to the general 
 welfare ; not under the influence of a choice of the general welfare 
 without any regard to the demands of retributive justice or the 
 pleadings of mercy or grace ; but he administers his moral govern- 
 ment under the influence of a general attribute looking at sin and 
 at pardon in all their relations, and providing for the greatest and 
 highest welfare of the universe. Under the influence of this general 
 attribute our benevolent Father resists the plea of mercy and of 
 grace when the safety of the universe requires him to resist it ; he 
 yields to tlie demand of distributive justice when the general good 
 requires him to comply with it ; his distributive justice holds the 
 scales and his general justice holds the isword ; the former urges its 
 claims and the latter complies with them on the ground of their 
 rectitude and on the condition of their necessity for the general 
 welfare. The punishment which our Father inflicts is useful, but 
 its usefulness rests on the ground of its being deserved ; the justice 
 of it comes first, the usefulness comes afterward ; the punishment 
 cannot be useful unless it be just, and it must be useful if it is 
 just unless an atonement intervene. The fact that punishment is 
 deserved rests on the ground that sin is intrinsically evil ; the in- 
 trinsic evil of sin consists in the fact that it is a preference for the 
 inferior above the superior good, — it is a love of self or the world 
 rather than of him who comprehends in his own being the welfare, 
 not of the world only, but of the universe also ; it is opposition to 
 general benevolence, to general justice, to him of whom our text 
 affirms : " God is love." 
 
^III. 
 
 1 
 
 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION.^ 
 
 HEBREWS II. 10. 
 
 TOR IT BECAME HIM, FOR WHOM ABE ALL THINGS, AND BT WHOM ABE ALL THINGS, IH 
 BRINGING MANY SONS UNTO GLORY, TO MAKE THE CAPTAIN OP THEIR SALVATION 
 PERFECT THROUGH SUFFERINGS. 
 
 FOB WHOM ARE ALL THINGS, AND BY WHOM ARE ALL THINGS. 
 
 Among the earliest questions proposed by the child are 
 the two : Who made this ? and Why did he make it ? 
 These two questions are asked by the artisan observing a 
 specimen of ingenious mechanism : By whom was it con- 
 trived ? and for what purpose ? The great queries of the 
 philosopher are : What is the cause of certain phenomena ? 
 and what is their design ? Moved by a like impulse the 
 theologian devotes himself to the two problems : Who created 
 the universe ? and why did he create it ? Both these prob- 
 lems are solved by a few words of our text : ' By whom are 
 all things, and for whom are all things ' ; and by a few words 
 of another text : " Of him and through him and to him are 
 all things" ;^ and by a few words of still another text : "All 
 things were created by him and for him." ^ We need not 
 linger on the fact that God is the efficient cause of all things ; 
 but we may well linger on the fact that he is their final 
 cause. It is reasonable to suppose that if they were made 
 
 1 A sermon preached in 1851, at the Installation of Rev. Christopher Cush- 
 injr fD.D.], in North Brookfield, Mass.; and in 1853, at the Ordination of 
 [Professor] Hiram Mead [D.D.], in South Hadley, Mass. 
 
 2 Rom. xi. 36. 
 8 Col. i. 16. 
 
182 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WOEK OF CREATION. 
 
 by him, they were also made for him.^ And when we say 
 that all things were made for him, we may well refer to vari- 
 ous designs with which he made the universe, one of them 
 distinct from the other, each flowing into the other, and that 
 other flowing back to the first, and all winding at length into 
 one general and ultimate purpose. In the meaning of these 
 simple words, "for him," lies coiled up a chain of designs, 
 each link necessary to hold up the others, and all the links 
 joining together in one massive series, forming a single com- 
 prehensive plan. 
 
 The object of the present discourse is, to state the different 
 parts of the general purpose for which God created the 
 universe. 
 
 I. I remark in the first place that God created the universe 
 for the sake of promoting his own happiness. He made all 
 things because he chose to make them, because the making 
 of them would gratify this choice. Now the gratification of 
 the choice of any being is happiness. Not only as a sentient, 
 but still more as a holy, being must the Deity be influenced 
 by a desire to secure his own bliss ; for his own is the highest 
 bliss conceivable, and therefore ought to be the most highly 
 regarded. All the happiness which has been, is now, or ever 
 will be felt by all creatures, is but a mote in the air when 
 compared with the felicity of an infinite mind. His pleasure 
 is as real as that of the most ecstatic angel ; but the angel's 
 happiness is like a rill ; that of God is not like a river, nor a 
 sea, nor an ocean, but it is like space itself, filled throughout 
 its illimitable expansion with a joy as intense as it is widely 
 diffused. The blessedness of God cannot be called ecstasy, 
 for that is too mild and tame a word. It can only be inti- 
 mated by saying that the peace which is derived from him by 
 
 1 " That which is not orifrinal to itself cannot be final to itself. But to whom 
 it belongs to be the first cause, to the same it belongs to bo the last end : so God 
 should be to us by our own act. He that is original to us hy himself sihould be 
 final to us by our choice." — Whichcote's Aphorisms, etc., 19. 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 183 
 
 his feeble creatures, that peace which is but a single beam of 
 his, passeth all understanding. 
 
 This thought reminds us that the Deity made all things 
 for his own happiness, because this happiness is the source of 
 the bliss of his creatures. Joy is communicated from one 
 spirit to another. The mere knowledge of a being's enjoy- 
 ment quickens the sympathy of those who are apprised of 
 it, so strangely arc sentient creatures knit together. In our 
 extreme pain we are sometimes comforted by the signs of 
 good cheer among irrational beings even, far more so by the 
 gladsome moods of children. One friend, with one cheerful 
 smile, may dissipate a long-continued gloom. The father of 
 a family, by the joyous glances of his eye, is like the sun in 
 the centre of an illuminated circle. The happiness, then, of 
 the great Central Spirit of the universe, — what a joy must 
 it diffuse throughout the immense company of those who are 
 enlivened by it. They are allured to its shining expressions, 
 and they rejoice to bathe in its cheering influence. We can- 
 not imagine the darkness of the funeral pall which would 
 hang over the skies, if he who inhabited them were cheerless 
 and sad. Now God is the light of heaven, because he is in- 
 finitely blessed, and radiates his blessedness, as his intel- 
 ligence, through the entire circle of the sympathetic beings 
 who are attracted by and to him. His unlimited peace being 
 the fountain which overflows into the hearts of his children, 
 — it ought to be an ultimate aim of his works, and as it ought 
 to be, so it is ; for his perfection consists in his regarding 
 every good as it deserves to be regarded. 
 
 But this is only the first link in the chain of purposes. 
 In what manner did God intend to secure his own pleasure 
 in giving existence to creatures ? 
 
 II. This leads me to remark in the second place, that God 
 created the universe in order to promote his happiness in the 
 exercise of his perfections ; — he made all things for the ex- 
 ercise of his perfections. The action of our faculties is in 
 
184 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 itself agreeable. There is a delight in even muscular, still 
 more in spiritual, movement. Tlie pain of mental restraint 
 cannot be long endured. In proportion to the elastic vigor 
 of the powers is the bliss which attends their exercise. We 
 presume, then, that the employment of God's infinite attri- 
 butes in creating a universe was an infinite pleasure. The 
 continual putting forth of the divine energies in upholding 
 worlds and systems is now one part of his immutable blessed- 
 ness. Hence if is only the poverty of language which induces 
 us to say that the Deity exerts his power, — that he performs 
 his wonderful works by an effort of his will. We associate 
 pain with exertion and with effort ; and therefore a more 
 happy phraseology would be, that God's omnipotence pleases 
 itseK witli the sustaining and the rolling onward of the globes 
 which lie once spake into being ; that he not only taketh up 
 the isles as a very little thing, but findeth an infinite delight 
 in superintending the vast mechanism of the heavens, which 
 are but the work of his fingers. It is no conjecture, it is fact, 
 — inferred to ho. such from the very nature of mind, that 
 he who hath made everything beautiful in its season derives 
 an immeasurable happiness from the sustaining of a world 
 on which he hath drawn lines of grace and delicacy, and the 
 very fields of which he hath adorned with lilies surpassing 
 the glory of Solomon. He must receive a delight from the 
 controlling of a system of globes which would be more beau- 
 tiful than all pearls and flowers, were not its gracefulness 
 lost in a splendor and a majesty which can be fully enjoyed 
 only by its infinite architect. There must have been, and be 
 still, an overflowing joy in the mere exercise of God's moral 
 attributes toward the mute fishes which he hath made to 
 swim the sea so blithely, and toward the sparrows whose rise 
 and fall he noticeth with a sleepless eye, and toward man 
 who is made the chief over this pleasant heritage. The lan- 
 guage of Jehovah is, " I am the Lord which exercise loving- 
 kindness, judgment, and righteousness in the earth ; for in 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 185 
 
 these things I delight." ^ Love is pleasure. God is love, and 
 therein blessed forcvermore. This blessedness can be attained 
 in the mere act of loving, and must, therefore, have been a 
 motive for providing objects of love. The Psalmist says, 
 " Wliatsoever the Lord pleased, that did he in heaven, and in 
 earth, in the seas, and all deep places." ^ A Pagan says, " He 
 docth according to his will in the army of heaven." ^ His 
 will is a holy will, and a holy will must be, in its nature, a 
 happy one ; the exercise of it is attended with complacency ; 
 in an infinite being with infinite complacency ; this infinite 
 complacency is an infinite good ; and this infinite good 
 deserves to be an ultimate aim of God in creating the uni- 
 verse. As it is right that he should make all things in order 
 that ho may be happy, so it is right that he should make all 
 things in order that he may be happy in the exercises of his 
 benevolence, for these exercises are blessedness in their own 
 nature. 
 
 But there is still another link in the chain, for the question 
 occurs : In what manner did God intend to secure his own 
 felicity in exercising his own perfections ? 
 
 in. This leads me to remark in the third place, God created 
 the universe for the sake of his own pleasure in so exercising 
 his perfections as to promote the happiness of his creatures ; — 
 he made all things for the happiness of his creatures. He 
 has made myriads of sensitive beings who live but a day and 
 expire. Tliey are capable of happiness. They are contrived 
 for happiness. We believe these contrivances are not in 
 vain. These ephemera spend their day in bliss and die. 
 "Why were they made ? We know not all the causes ; but the 
 fact teaches us one — they are happy ; therefore they were 
 made to be happy. Their happiness gives pleasure to their 
 maker ; for " God," saith the Psalmist, " hath done whatso- 
 ever he pleased." We, even, are delighted with the thought 
 that our earth and atmosphere teem with life that is con- 
 
 1 Jer. ix. 24. - I's. cxxxv. 6 « Dan. iv. 3i). 
 
186 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CEEATION. 
 
 scious and consciously blissful. But God is as much more 
 pleased than ourselves with this diffusion of bliss as infinite 
 is more than finite, and perfect love a higher good than par- 
 tial selfishness. God's infinity, instead of elevating him 
 above a regard for the smallest animalcule, qualifies and 
 predisposes him for even a perfect interest in it. All that 
 he feels is immeasurable. His sensitiveness to the good of 
 the most insignificant creature is unlimited as his own 
 essence. Infinite is his sympathy with the young ravens 
 when they cry ; and if he provides for the welfare of the 
 small bird, how much more for that of man, even although 
 on this theme man hath so little faith. It is impossible for 
 us to measure the depth of his love toward ourselves. He 
 makes known to us his own felicity that we may enjoy it with 
 him. He has lavished upon us contrivances for our good, 
 that we may be gladdened in them. The blissful result of 
 these contrivances must gratify the benevolence of him whose 
 immeasurable skill they develop. If the pleasure of a fellow- 
 man is communicated to us in our coldness by the magnetic 
 force of sympathy, if the glad eye of a neighbor brightens 
 our faces with joy, — how much more delight must our in- 
 dulgent Father experience in the happiness of his children, 
 when he hath foreordained it in his love, gazed at it as his 
 own plan through eternal ages, with inconceivable ingenuity 
 hath devised all the avenues through which it may be con- 
 ducted to its recipient, and then with his own hand hath gently 
 insinuated it into the heart of him who now enjoys it indeed, 
 but enjoys even his own bliss less than it is delighted in by 
 his Maker. And if our benignant Father is thus pleased with 
 the felicity of his creatures, then he designed to be pleased 
 with it ; and if he once designed this, then at the beginning ; 
 and therefore with this design he made the world. As it is 
 right that he should intend to make himself happy, and to 
 make himself happy in exercising his power and his benevo- 
 lence, 80 i'; is right that he should intend to exercise his 
 attributes in order to make his creatures happy. As this is 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 187 
 
 right, so it is desirable, and what is right and dcsiraljle he 
 does. 
 
 We have seen that the first part of this connected series of 
 purposes is linked to the second, and the second is involved 
 with the third, we maj now see that the third joins upon and 
 strikes into another ; for we ask : How did God intend to 
 employ his attributes in making sentient beings hnppy ? 
 There is more than one method in wliich he thus employs 
 them, and a conspicuous one is the following. 
 
 IV. I remark in the fourth place, God created the universe 
 for the sake of deriving bliss from the exercise of his perfec- 
 tions, in making his rational creatures happy in holiness ; — he 
 made all things for the holiness of his creatures. He dif- 
 fuses comfort through the entire creation, partly for the pur- 
 pose of securing the good which lies in the comfort even of 
 an animal, and partly for the purpose of alluring men to a 
 similar diffusion of the happiness which they are able to 
 communicate ; and their voluntary godlike diffusing of hai> 
 pincss is expressed benevolence, and impartial benevolence 
 is holiness. He pours out upon our race the most precious 
 materials for enjoyment in order to elicit our gratitude for 
 this generosity, and to make this thankfulness not selfish, but 
 virtuous, in imitation of the generosity. He has implanted 
 within us a conviction that moral excellence is the highest 
 good, that all our efforts should tend to the encouragement 
 of right feeling ; and from this deep-seated conviction we in- 
 fer that our piety is a great aim of his providence over us.^ 
 If our very constitution and outward relations indicate that 
 
 1 " The inferiority of these pleasures [of sense] to something beyond and above 
 them is never doubted ; a wise man advises a proper abstinence from such plea- 
 sures for the sake of hpalth ; a good man for the sake of virfup; either of which 
 is justly regarded as an object superior to that which it ought to regulate. But 
 the true end of existence must be something final, something beyond which 
 nothing can be proposed as of superior magnitude ; and unless there be alleged 
 some worthier object of our creation than one which is thus referred to another 
 which has a right to supersede it, it cannot be disproved that ' men are made in 
 vain.'" — Robert Hall, Works (Am. ed.). Vol. iii. p. 382. 
 
188 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 our holiness is a higher good than our happiness, he designed 
 that they should indicate it ; and if he designed to teach it, 
 it is the truth, and as himself proclaims this truth, he will 
 conform his government to it ; and hence we infer that he 
 made the world for the purpose of making all things work 
 together for the sjnritual good of them that love him. If he 
 created the universe for the happiness of his creatures, then 
 certainly for the happiness of moral beings, and then, of 
 course, for their highest happiness ; but their highest hap- 
 piness consists in holiness, and therefore it must have been 
 their holy bliss which moved him to encircle them with such 
 exuberant provisions for good. Their joy in the Lord was 
 designed to be their strength. While we read that " the 
 glory of the Lord shall endure forever ; the Lord shall rejoice 
 in his works," ^ we also read with an emphasis : " I will rejoice 
 in Jerusalem, and joy in my people." ^ " The Lord thy God 
 in the midst of thee is mighty ; he will save, he will rejoice 
 over thee with joy ; he will rest in his love, he will joy over 
 thee with singing";' — "As the bridegroom rejoiceth over 
 the bride, so shall thy God rejoice over thee."^ 
 
 This is not the mere poetry of an Oriental Jew, for the 
 apostle writing to the converted Gentiles exclaims : " All 
 things are for your sakes, that the grace, being multiplied 
 through the many, may cause the thanksgiving to abound 
 unto the glory of God." ^ " Let no man glory in men, for all 
 things are yours ; whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas, or the 
 world, or life or death, or things present or things to come ; 
 all are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." ^ 
 Such thrilling words as these make it appear prosaic to say 
 that it is right for God to do all things for the sake of his 
 own enjoyment, his enjoyment in the happiness of his crea- 
 tures, in their happiness as involved in their holiness ; it is 
 more than right ; it is right and grand for him to prize virtue 
 above mere pleasure, and to gratify himself in doing all things 
 
 iPs. civ. 31. 2 isjj. Ixv. 19. szeph. iii. 17. 
 
 ♦ Isa. Ixii. 5. " 2 Cor. iv. 15 (R.V.). « 1 Cor. iii. 21-23. 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 189 
 
 for the sake of making the highest pleasure of his children 
 consist in their virtue. 
 
 Even here the mind docs not stop in its inquiries, but 
 asks : How does God exercise his wisdom in causing his 
 creatures to place their chief happiness in holiness ? 
 
 V. This leads me to remark, in the fifth place, God created 
 the universe for the purpose of pleasing himself with such an 
 exercise of his power as would make his children derive both 
 happiness and holiness from the display of his perfections ; — 
 he created the universe for the manifestation of his attri- 
 butes. If he designs, as we have seen that he does, to promote 
 his own felicity in the creation, he must exercise his attri- 
 butes, and the exercise is the manifestation of them ; and the 
 manifestation of them is well fitted to make the observer 
 holy, and if holy, then of course happy. If God designs, as 
 we have seen that he does, to promote the virtue of men, he 
 must also design to manifest his perfections ; for it is by 
 considering the character of God that men become " changed 
 into the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the 
 Spirit of the Lord." They arc elevated above themselves by 
 a near communion with the attributes of him who assimilates 
 to his own excellence those who love to contemplate it. If 
 he intends, as we have seen that he does, to make his intel- 
 ligent children happy in holiness, how can he accomplish this 
 magnificent purpose otherwise than by revealing those per- 
 fections which are the treasury of the bliss of all who are 
 truly rational ? Even the pleasure which is derived from a 
 modest flower and a neat lawn is exalted and refined by the 
 reflection that they are the handiwork of him who so clothes 
 the grass of the field. Music imparts an additional and a 
 peculiar delight as it is found to be the contrivance of One 
 who hath made the capacity for sweet sounds because he 
 loveth concord. The tall mountains and the waves of the 
 sea arc transformed from simply large collections of matter 
 into eloquent expressions of truth, as the entranced spectatoi 
 
100 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 may say, " My Father made them all." And if the view of 
 God's omnipotence and omniscience be fitted to inspire good 
 men with a delightful feeling of security and triumph, still 
 more must be the view of his benignity and condescension. 
 The world would be only a barren heath, did it not reveal 
 the excellences of him who governs it. Its intellectual 
 aspect consists in its expressing so much of lofty sentiment 
 that it has been sometimes thought to be the cause of itself. 
 Its grandeur lies in its being not a simple mass of atoms 
 rolled up into fantastic piles, but in its being a volume in- 
 scribed and superscribed with legible characters, unfolding 
 the most precious truths, relating to the most adorable Spirit. 
 Nature communes with man. It seems to have an eye which 
 indicates intelligence. It appears to smile. It has a voice, 
 and utters an eternal anthem of praise. The skies and the 
 fields and the waves of the sea are so made that they express 
 the feelings of their Maker. We seldom consider how much 
 of ecstasy sometimes, and of comfort at all times, is im- 
 parted secretly by this communication of living sentiment to 
 man from the starlight and the sunshine, from the spring- 
 time and the harvest, the voice of birds and the repose of the 
 cattle on. a thousand hills. This communication is not the 
 result of accident, but of design. With this design did God 
 originally write the book of nature, and is now providentially 
 opening its successive leaves. Every event which occurs is 
 a written page describing his excellence. 
 
 From the fact that a man would be selfish in striving to 
 exhibit himself in his works, some have inferred that he who 
 is infinitely superior to man cannot properly create the world 
 with the design of exhibiting his own excellence. But such 
 an exhibition is essential to the universal good. The sinful- 
 ness of our race has corrupted all the words which pertain to 
 moral themes. Thus the word " exhibit " is associated with 
 vanity, because it is tliis sordid emotion which leads a man 
 to exhibit himself. Tlic term " display" ai)i)ears almost sac- 
 rilegious in its application to Jehovah, because in a human 
 
THE DESIGN OP GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 191 
 
 display there is so much of pride. So would it be with all 
 words which can be imagined to designate the divine attri- 
 butes. Man would apply them to himself and tarnish them. 
 If we should say that Jehovah intends to enucleate his char- 
 acter, the word enucleate would not often pass our lips with- 
 out being contaminated by our breath. In a corrupt race the 
 purest phrases of the best language do not retain their sacred- 
 ness. If the exhibition of human excellence be in general 
 an unfit design for a work of man, it is because the excellence 
 is so often a counterfeit, and when real is so diminutive. 
 The same princijile, however, which causes a human display 
 to be one of vain glory, causes a divine manifestation to be 
 one of infinite kindness and wisdom. The same principle 
 which makes it wrong in man to love himself supremely, 
 makes it right in God to view his own character with infinite 
 complacence. From the very fact that imperfection should 
 not strive to make itself prominent, it is the wise inference 
 that perfection should exhibit its own beauty. God loves 
 himself with a supreme affection, not as man, because he is 
 himself, but because he is infinitely deserving of love. And 
 he manifests his perfections, not because they are his, but 
 because they are perfections, and infinite, and deserve to be 
 displayed, and their exhibition will promote the holiness of 
 the created universe, and the happiness, not of the created 
 only, but of the uncreated also. Instead of its being wrong 
 for God to make his character known, we cannot conceive 
 that it would be right for him to leave it eternally unknown, to 
 allow his omnipotence to repose unrecognized in empty space, 
 his infinite skill to lie dormant and unnoticed throughout a 
 duration blank to all created good, his unl)ounded love to call 
 forth no cheerful recognition, no answering gratitude, no 
 true nobleness of desire to imitate and thus extend it. 
 
 But we have not yet reached the last link in the chain ; for 
 the question still occurs. How did God intend to display his 
 perfections so as to make moral agents lioly and happy, and 
 thus to please himself ? In various ways : Init most prom- 
 inently in that which will be noticed in the next proposition. 
 
192 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 VI. I remark, then, in the sixth place, that God created 
 the universe for the sake of deriving pleasure from exercising 
 his power in promoting the happiness, and yet more the holi- 
 ness, of his children by engaging, and of course exhibiting, 
 his perfections in the redemptive work of Christ; — he made 
 all things for the distinctive work of the Redeemer. 
 
 Many persons who are slow to admit that God made all 
 things for himself, are quick to own that he made all things 
 for his Son. Some men, however, are startled by the bold- 
 ness of this statement, and prefer to say that God made all 
 things in their present form ior the redemptive work. Others 
 may prefer to say that he made all things for this work so far 
 as all thinfi^s are related to our world and our race. If he 
 made all things, in their present form and in their present 
 relations, for this wonderful work, then certainly, in one 
 aspect, he made all things for it. If he made them in order 
 that he himself may be pleased, then we should presume that 
 he made them for his well-beloved Son, whom he raised from 
 the cross to a throne, " far above all rule and authority and 
 power and dominion and every name that is named." ^ If lie 
 made them in order that his sentient creatures may be happy, 
 then we should presume that he made them for the great High 
 Priest whose name is the only one whereby men can become 
 happy in the highest meaning of that term. If he made all 
 things for the holiness of his children, then we should presume 
 that he made them for him who only " is made unto us wisdom 
 and righteousness and sanctification and redemption." - If 
 we are to be regenerated, it is by Christ's Spirit ; if confirmed 
 in virtue, it is through his death ; if glorified, it is through 
 his resurrection. The purpose, then, of our good is a purpose 
 of the atonement, which is the sole condition of any favor 
 temporal or spiritual. If God created the universe for the 
 manifestation of his attributes, then for Christ ; for he is the 
 brightness of the Father's glory, and in him dwclleih all 
 the fulness of the Godhead bodily. The wisdom which has 
 
 lEph. i. 21. M Cor. i. 30. 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN UlS WORK OF CREATION. 193 
 
 created the world is less attractive than that wliich has 
 devised the scheme of redemption. The justice displayed 
 in tlie punishment of sin is less adorable than that displayed 
 in the giving up of the only begotten Son. The benevolence 
 displayed in all the happiness of all the sentient behigs, who 
 live to enjoy what they enjoy to live, is less illustrious than 
 that benevolence which rises into the sphere of grace, and 
 opens full upon our view only in the Lamb of God who taketh 
 away the sin of the world. We are led to believe that the 
 end of the creation is the atonement of Christ, because we 
 are inclined to think that this is the greatest good in the uni- 
 verse ; and the largest blessing must have been the one 
 wliich Infinite Wisdom designed to secure. It is the greatest 
 good in the universe for what it does, — as it renews, sanctifies, 
 perfects, justifies, and glorifies the soul ; securing its conso- 
 lation as long as the body lives, and its bliss as long as God 
 himself shall endure. It is the greatest good in the universe, 
 because of what it involves ; for it includes the body and soul 
 of man — for Jesus was a man — in their perfect state, a 
 spotless example for our entire race ; it includes a mysterious 
 union of this body and soul with the Godhead, — for Jesus 
 was God. It thus includes Jehovah himself ; not his mere 
 omnipotence, but something more ; not his mere omniscience, 
 but more ; not his mere benevolence, but more ; not his grace 
 alone, which is his crowning attribute, but more still. It in- 
 cludes all these perfections in their exercise ; in their exer- 
 cise toward enemies ; in their exercise for the temporal good 
 of foes ; and not only temporal, but spiritual ; and not only 
 spiritual, but eternal ; and not only eternal, but eternally 
 diversifying and augmenting its manifestations. If man be 
 the lord of this earth, the atonement embraces this lordship 
 in itself; for it embraces the man Jesus. If God be the 
 highest good, the atonement comprehends this good ; for it 
 comprehends Jesus, who was God. If Jehovah in the mopt 
 illustrious exercise of his perfections is the most exalted 
 theme of contemolation, the atonement is that theme; for it 
 
194 THE DESIGN OP GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 is all the grace of Heaven incarnated in the only perfect 
 one of earth. 
 
 In unison with these thoughts we find that the word of 
 God associates, directly and indirectly, the design of tlie 
 creation with those redemptive acts, " which things the 
 angels desire to look into." The Father " sent his Son to 
 l)e the propitiation for our sins," and " that we might live 
 through him"; and because the Son "humbled himself, 
 becoming obedient even unto death, yea, the death of the 
 cross," therefore the Father " highly exalted him, and gave 
 unto him the name which is above every name." ^ Thus it 
 was the striking peculiarity of the Redeemer's life that he war, 
 born in order that he might die, and that in consequence of h's 
 death he might reign. " The hour is come," he said, " that 
 the Son should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, 
 Except a grain of wheat fall into the earth and die, it abideth 
 by itself alone, but if it die, it beareth much fruit." " Now 
 is my soul troubled, and what shall I say ? Father, save mc 
 from this hour. But for this cause came I unto this hour. 
 Father, glorify thy name."- Tlie hour of his death — this 
 it was which gave the meaning to his entire life. Accordingly 
 we read : " It became him for whom are all things, and l)v 
 whom are all things, through sufferings to bestow the highest 
 honor upon the Captain of their salvation, who is leading 
 many sons to glory." ^ The same paragraph which affirmf-- 
 that Christ is " the first-born of all creation," and " the first- 
 born from the dead," affirms also that in him " we have our 
 
 redemption ; in him were all things created ; 
 
 all things have been created through him and unto him, 
 
 that in all things he might have the pre-eminence."* 
 
 These words harmonize with the numerous declarations and 
 implications of the Bible that after the death of the Mediator 
 
 1 Phil. ii. 5-11. See also 1 John iv. 9, 10; Horn. xiv. 9 ; Eph. i. 15-23 ; Heb. 
 ii. 9 ; xii. 2. 
 
 2 John xii. 23, 24, 27. See also John xiii. 31, 32 ; xvii 1-13. 
 ^ Stuart's Translat'on of Hebrews, ii. 10. 
 
 » Col. i. 14-20. 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 196 
 
 all authority was given to him iu heaven and on earth, angels 
 and autlioritics and powers were made subject unto him, and 
 all things were put under his feet, and he became head over 
 all things to the church.^ 
 
 VII. Each of the foregoing propositions prepares the way 
 for and justifies that which follows it, and as each flows into 
 another, so all merge themselves at length into the seventh, 
 the comprehensive and last proposition : God created the 
 universe for the sake of pleasing himself with such exercises 
 of his attrilaites as secure the general holiness and happiness 
 resulting from the display of his perfections, especially in 
 the atonement, which is one part of his great plan to pro- 
 mote his own glory ; — he created the universe for the sake 
 of his own glory. 
 
 If he created it for his happiness, then for his glory ; 
 because this happiness adds an effulgence to his nature. If 
 he created it for his happiness in the exercise of his attri- 
 butes, then for his glory ; because the very essence of these 
 attributes is an honor to him, and the activity of them is a 
 still brighter jewel in his crown. If he created the universe 
 for the exercise of his perfections in promoting the happiness 
 of creatures, then for his glory; because for such a being 
 to employ such stupendous powers in diffusing cheerfulness 
 among his offspring adds a new lustre to his name. If he 
 created the universe for the pleasure of employing his attri- 
 butes so as to make us happy in holiness, then for his own 
 glory ; because our virtue is but the effluence of his bright- 
 ness, as the moon's light is but a reflection from the sun. 
 Our holineae presupposes our knowledge, and our knowledge 
 is but a co])y of the divine ; all our science being a miniature 
 likeness of God's omniscience. And as we glorify him by 
 knowing him, still more by loving him ; for our holy love is 
 luit an image of his own love. He is its author, he is its 
 ol)ject, he its end, he iti-; luminous exemplar ; and therefore, 
 
 > Eph. i. 22, 23; 1 Pet. iii. 22. 
 
196 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 fashioned after him, coming from him, and going to him, it 
 glorifies him as the First and the Last. Our liohness con- 
 sists in praising God ; and he delights in our praises, not 
 merely because they are praises of him, but mainly because 
 they are virtue. Our holiness consists in honoring him ; 
 and he chooses to be honored, not so much for the honor, as 
 for the fitness and lightness of the honor. If we truly praise 
 him, we praise infinite benevolence. If we truly honor infinite 
 benevolence, we honor him. He is infinite benevolence in 
 its personal form. God created all things that he may make 
 all men see what is the breadth and length and depth and 
 height of his power and love ; and this illustration of his 
 excellences, especially as they shine out in Jesus our Re- 
 deemer, the bright and morning star, is his declarative glory, 
 as the excellences themselves are his essential glory, and as 
 the virtue whicli they call forth from ulfe is his derived glory, 
 — a glory which is the circumference of the circle of which 
 he is the centre, — all the rays of which diverge from him as 
 their source, are reflected back to him as their object, shine 
 with a lustre which is but a faint likeness of his own, and 
 are made to shine for the sake of illuminating the name of 
 him, which is the name above every name, and is engraven on 
 all the works of his hands. 
 
 The honor of God is enhanced in our esteem by the very 
 objections whicli are made against it. Men say that it is 
 unworthy of him to take a pleasure in glorifying himself, 
 in parading the insignia of his power, sitting on his throne 
 gazing at the spectacle of his reflected brightness. But wha,t 
 is this display of his perfections ? It does not consist in the 
 .baubles of earthly kings, but is intimated in the whole 
 volume of science. All the discoveries which are recorded 
 in this volume are discoveries of the thoughts of God, and all 
 these thoughts are signs of his perfect character. The 
 sentences or the paragraphs composing this volume are noth- 
 ing less tlian the broad sea, with its expressive laws, — the 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OP CREATION. 197 
 
 mountains, rock-ribbed that they may be emblems of strength, 
 
 — this globe itself, and all that retinue of stars whose light 
 swift-travelling for six thousand years has not yet arrived at 
 our planet, — the mind of Aristotle, of Leibnitz, of Milton, 
 
 — the heart of David, of Paul, of John, of Fenelon, of 
 Melanchthon, Luther, Calvin, — the myriads of spirits that 
 throng the upper sanctuary, — all the happiness and all the 
 holiness in all worlds. Every work of God shines as a proof 
 of his wisdom, and therefore as a gem in his crown. For 
 him to display his attributes is to exercise them in doing 
 good and in doing right. For him to be pleased with the dis- 
 play of them is to be pleased with his constancy in doing 
 good and in doing right. For him to make a world for the 
 display of them is to make a world for the sake of doing 
 good and doing right ; for the sake of illustrating the truth 
 that the highest bliss results from virtue, the brightest glory 
 from self-denial, the richest crown from the cross. He can- 
 not manifest his whole character without presenting the 
 most persuasive motives to holiness, and he cannot present 
 the most persuasive motives to holiness without manifesting 
 his whole character. He cannot make the universe as happy 
 as it is possible for him to make it unless he exhibit all his 
 perfections, and he cannot exhibit all his perfections with- 
 out making the universe as happy as it is possible for him to 
 make it. Herein is his glory, that he includes all pure spirits 
 within himself and condescends to make his own joy in- 
 separable from their well-being ; so that whatever he does for 
 ' his own name ' he does for all virtuous minds, and whatever he 
 does for all virtuous minds he does for ' his own name's sake ' ; 
 in creating all things for his own honor he created them for 
 the truest nobility of his children, and in making the display 
 of himself he adorns them, or will adorn them, with all the 
 graces which they do or ever will possess. "We may avoid 
 all evil associations with the words display, ^lorij, praise, if 
 we will remember that God is the impersonation of all virtue, 
 his display of himself is only the manifestation of all virtue, 
 
198 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OP CEEATION. 
 
 his glory is his exercise and consequent exhibition of all 
 virtue, his praise is the praise of all that is amia))le and 
 majestic in all virtue, and accordingly there is a true disin- 
 terestedness in his repeated proclamation : " This people have 
 
 I formed for myself ; they shall show forth my praise 
 
 Even every one that is called by my name, for I have created 
 him for my glory." ^ He and he only is impartial and dis- 
 interested who prefers moral excellence above every other 
 good, and prefers the higher above the lower degree of this 
 excellence, whether it be found in himself or in any other 
 being. His impartiality and disinterestedness prevent him 
 from sacrificing the larger to the smaller amount, the higher 
 to the lower kind of good, wherever they are found. Accord,- 
 ingly, when tlie ungrateful children of the Lord had given to 
 the heathen a false view of his character, and had thus 
 encouraged the heathen to sin, he interposed for their rescue, 
 and gave the true view of his character so that he might 
 encourage men to be holy. In explaining the reason for this 
 interposition he says : " I do not this for your sakes, house 
 of Israel [as if ye had been faithful] , but for mine holy name's 
 sake which ye have profaned among the heathen." ^ For 
 him to prevent wrong views and to present right views of his 
 character is to promote the moral excellence of his creatures ; 
 it is his benevolence, the honor, the glory, of his name. 
 
 Men object again : If God created the universe in order that 
 the universe may honor him, he is dependent upon it, and 
 this dependence lessens his glory. If it be exactly true that 
 he is thus dependent, the objection might reveal the tender- 
 ness of his love. Would it dishonor a king if he could not 
 be happy save in diffusing happiness among his subjects ? 
 
 1 Isa. xliii. 21, 7. 
 
 2 Ezek. xxxvi. 22. Perhaps the Bihle represents the Lord as i)erformin>r his 
 works for his "name" more frequently than for liis "glory," altlioujjh each of 
 these words expresses the same idea. See Isa. Ixiii. 12; Jer. xiii. II ; Ezek. 
 xxxix. 25, etc. The word "praise" is also often used as nearly synonymoaa 
 with "fjlory" and " name." Sec Isa xlviii, 9; Jer. xxxiii. 9, etc. 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 199 
 
 Would it disgrace a father if lie depended for his own bhss 
 upon his kindness in making his household blissful ? Can 
 it nourish the pride of a mendicant to know that his bene- 
 factor is made happj by relieving the beggar's wants, and is 
 dependent on his charities for his peace ? 
 
 But God is not dependent upon his creatures as individu- 
 als ; he can annihilate them all, and create others their 
 equals, and be the same in his blessedness. If he be depen- 
 dent on his creatures in any sense he depends on them not 
 as actual existences, but merely as conditions essential in 
 the nature of things to the exercise of his attributes. He 
 depends not on them, but on his benevolence in making 
 them happy ; — not on them, but on his communicative grace 
 which delights in its own communication to them. Could he 
 have been dependent upon them before they had so much as 
 a being, and not rather upon his own goodness in originally 
 prompting him to give them being ? And after they were 
 created by him can he be dependent upon them whom he is 
 constantly holding up from annihilation, and not rather upon 
 his own love, which delighteth to preserve the happiness of 
 his creatures ? It is in the nature of things, the nature of 
 mind, the nature of virtue, that " every benevolent being 
 places his happiness in the happiness of others as well as in 
 his own happiness."^ The benevolence of God is itself bless- 
 edness, and delights in communicating blessedness to all 
 who will accept it. Does this lessen its glory ? Is the 
 value of an aroma diminished because it naturally diffuses 
 its fragrance ? Would the flower be more lovely if it did 
 not exhale its perfume ? Does the beauty of a tree vanish 
 because it spreads abroad its branches ? Does a fountain 
 lose its freshness because its waters do not stagnate in itself ? 
 Would the sun be more glorious if its rays were all confined 
 
 1 This is probably the mcaninj,^ of Dr. B. Hale, who says : "Live a holy and 
 devout life, and tluni slialt po from jrracc to plory ; jrrace is aurora gloriae ; jrlory, 
 nothinc: but a bright constellation of graces; and happiness, nothinsr but tho 
 quintessence of holiness." — " The Whole Works of Jeremy Taylor." Vol. iii. 
 p 412 (Bishop Heber's Edition). 
 
200 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS VVOUK OF CREATION. 
 
 to its surface by bands of iron V— or is it the diffusing of its 
 radiance that constitutes its glory, as it is the emanation of 
 God's fuhiess which makes him not selfish, but love itself, 
 that depends upon its own activity for its very gratification ? 
 In one sense, our souls emanate from him, our knowledge is 
 his, our virtue his, our happiness his; because he is their 
 source, their object, their end. In being gratified, then, by 
 us, he is gratified by himself, for we are in him ; our good- 
 ness shines by the rays of his light " as the brightness of a 
 jewel held in the sun's beams is a participation or derivation 
 of the sun's brightness." ^ 
 
 But it has been objected again, in the words of Eliphaz : 
 " Can a man profit God ? — Is it an advantage to the Almighty 
 that thou art righteous, or a gain to him that thou walkest 
 uprightly ? " ^ There is certainly an important truth in the 
 hymn of an old English poet : 
 
 " Ineffable, all powerful God, all free 
 Thou only liv'st, and each thing lives by thee ; 
 No joy, no, nor perfection to thee came 
 By the contriving of this world's great frame." 
 
 The sun does not receive anything, says Edwards, " from 
 the jewel that receives its light and shines only by a par- 
 ticipation of its brightness." ^ Individual men can bring 
 to their Maker no profit which he cannot as well secure 
 without them. They can bring no gain to him unless they 
 derive the power to bring it from him who secures the gain. 
 But he can do all things : he can of the very stones raise up 
 children unto Al)raham, and there is no hyperbole in saying 
 that in the true children of Abraham his " soul delighteth." 
 It is a literal but an inspiring truth that he is no uninter- 
 ested spectator of our conduct, but has an unbounded sym- 
 patliy with us and for us, and " a just [perfect] weight is his 
 delight." " Such as arc upright in their way arc his de- 
 
 1 Edwards on " Tlie End for which God created the World " (ed. 1), p. 33. 
 
 2 Job xxii. 2, 3 (Noyes's Trnnslation). 
 
 8 "The End for which God created the World," p. 37. 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 201 
 
 light." " Tliey that deal truly are his delight." " The prayer 
 of the upright is his delight." ^ The delight of an infinite 
 mind is not a mere and cold approval. It is no empty figure 
 of speech. It is a real and deep feeling.^ It confers an in- 
 expressible dignity on even so small a virtue as a gift of 
 cold water to a disciple. 
 
 But having done all, are we not unprofitable servants, who 
 have done no more than it was our duty to do ? "We are 
 unprofitable, in yielding to God no more than what was his ; 
 but here is the riches of his glory, that he is delighted with 
 all that is his, and is therefore delighted with us when we 
 surrender to him that which was his own. It has been said 
 from immemorial times that the Bible disparages the consti- 
 tution of men. It does, indeed, condemn their character, but 
 it exalts their constitution. It informs us that our capacities 
 are too grand for allowing the Most High to overlook our 
 iniquities ; that he has paid an infinite price for our pardon ; 
 and that now our common duties to our fellow-men are " well- 
 pleasing to God " ; that we are bound to " do good and to 
 communicate, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased " ; 
 
 1 Prov. xi. 1, 20 ; xii. 22 ; xv. 8. 
 
 2 Objectors often say that the divine Architect had as vivid an idea of all his 
 works before he gave existence to them as he had afterwards, and was as fully 
 blessed in his idea of them as he has been in the actualization of his idea. 
 Reasoning from the very nature of mind, may we not venture on the following 
 reply to this objection ? The actual existence of the Creator's works is itself a 
 good added to their ideal being. His foreknowledge of them as actually ex- 
 isting is a greater good than his knowledge of them as merely possible. His 
 blessedness in view of them as known or &s foreknown to be existing realities, is 
 greater than his blessedness in view of them as mere objects of thought. But 
 he always foreknew, as clearly as now he knows, them to be actual existences. 
 He was always perfectly blessed in his knowledge or in his foreknowledge of the 
 realization of his idea of them. His foreknowledge that they would actually 
 exist depended upon his volition to give them existence. The blessedness, then, 
 which he has always derived from them has always depended upon his volition 
 to mal:e them existing realities. In the order of nature his blessedness follows 
 and depends upon his works only so far as his works depends upon his own 
 will, that is, upon his own benevolence. (Sec Sermon VII.). His dependenco 
 upon them is his dependence on himself originating and sustaining them. 
 
202 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 that we arc Louiid to imitate our Redeemer who said : " I do 
 always the things that are pleasing to him." ^ 
 
 The main topic of this discourse suggests the following 
 remarks. 
 
 First. We see the utility of the created universe. The 
 question, Why hast thou made all men in vain ? is expressed 
 in the language of poetry, and may be answered in the lan- 
 guage of prose by denying the fact ; for God hath made all 
 things, not in vain, but for himself. In certain aspects God 
 is one with his universe and included in it. The plan on 
 which it is formed is his idea. The wisdom which marks it 
 is his wisdom. We have no conception of his decrees or his 
 providence except as they relate to things which he has made. 
 If he is the Creator there must have been something created. 
 If he is the Preserver there must be something preserved. If 
 he is the Governor, he must have something to govern. If 
 he is beneficent he must have objects to which he expresses, 
 or on which he exercises, his love. 
 
 We often read of useless contrivances, wasted activities, in 
 nature. But nothing has been made without its utility. The 
 time will come, we presume, when the tree will surrender up 
 to man its hitlicrto undiscovered gum, and the plant will no 
 longer conceal its medicinal virtue. The knowledge that 
 there is yet undeveloped wealth in the world, is a present 
 motive for adoring its Author. His excellence proves itself 
 to be thus far unsearchable. But even if the riches of t]ie 
 earth should remain locked up in its caverns until the earthly 
 explorer has ceased his search, they will not have been made 
 for no purpose ; for there is One who rejoices in them as 
 treasures hidden in the field. There is no " flower [that] is 
 born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert 
 air " ; for he who from eternity determined to create that 
 flower, and wlio now from year to year garnereth up its 
 precious seeds, and scattereth them in the spring-time, 
 
 1 Phi!, iv. 18 ; Hcb. xiii. 16 ; John viii. 29. 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 203 
 
 taketh pleasure in the beauty with which he carpeteih the 
 untrodden wilds. He delighteth to see the bird of paradise 
 making its nest amid the leaves of cinnamon which no 
 rude boy will ever disturb or discover. Even if the unde- 
 tected riches of nature should never be employed in what 
 men call the useful arts, they may still be needed for preserv- 
 ing the symmetry of the world, the architectural grandeur 
 of that which contains so many of what we foolishly 
 call the conveniences of life. They may have been made a 
 fitting garniture to the palace in which the Son of our King 
 was to sojourn during his visit of mysterious meaning to 
 gather up here his jewels. It was fit that the pillars of the 
 tabernacle in which he was to dwell for a season should plant 
 their foundations in mines of gold and of diamonds ; and that 
 the very sea over which he was to ride should be floored with 
 the mother-uf-pcarl. It was meet that the solitary places of the 
 world which he was to consecrate, should be perfumed with 
 groves of spices, and that the wilderness where he was 
 to pray "with strong crying and tears" should blossom 
 as the rose in anticipation and in memory of his coming. 
 It was meet that the tenement which the Son of God was to 
 occupy for three and thirty years, should be " a land of hills 
 and valleys, and [which] drinketh water of the rain of heaven ; 
 a land which the Lord thy God careth for ; the eyes of the 
 Lord thy God are always upon it, from the beginning of the 
 year, even unto the end of the year." ^ We cannot ask : " To 
 what purpose is this waste?"' when the greatest object in the 
 universe is encircled with such insignia of royalty, and when 
 treasures arc lavished and poured out with exhaustless prodi- 
 gality upon the earth, as a symbol of the gcnerousness of 
 atoning love. 
 
 We are touched by the simplicity of some old divines who 
 are now accused of having exalted their metaphysical theories 
 of religion above the central truth of the atonement. They 
 harbored a strong prejudice against the notion that other 
 
 1 Deut. xi. 11, 12. 
 
204 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 worlds than our own are inhabited by intelligent beings. 
 When called to answer the question, why so many empty 
 globes were created, these divines raised their thoughts to 
 the very truth which they are now said to have undervalued, 
 but which they in fact revered as the brightest glory of the 
 Godhead ; and they answered, that the orbs of night, even 
 if they arc tenantless, were not made in vain. They may 
 have been made in order to shine forth in honor of him whose 
 advent to our planet was heralded by the cry : " Glory to 
 God in the highest." They may have been made in order 
 to smile upon the great Captain of our salvation when he rode 
 home bearing the scars of his conflict on earth. They may 
 have been kindled up in order to illuminate his passage when 
 be should come for the last time and gather the spoils of his 
 dear-bought victory. It was deemed a good thing that his 
 hours of midnight prayer should be cheered by the sweet 
 influences of the Pleiades, and that the Eastern kings who 
 brought frankincense and myrrh to honor him should be 
 guided by a star that lingered over the place where the young 
 child lay. 
 
 The liistory of the past emboldens us to believe that in the 
 future all the principles of science shall be unfolded and 
 illustrated l^y the phenomena which are at present unknown. 
 The knowledge of God's works is a recognition of his char- 
 acter, and we are permitted to hope that the spirits of heaven 
 will pursue this knowledge, and detect its usefulness in illus- 
 trating Hie glory of him who hath made all things for him- 
 self. Ilcavcn is the school of science, and all real science is 
 but the syml)ol of the glory of God, whom to know as we 
 should know him is life eternal. It may be that the yet un- 
 discovered principles of geology will find their use in forming 
 the towers and bulwarks of the New Jerusalem, and the 
 pavement with which its streets arc covered, " as it were 
 transparent glass." It may be that the yet undetected laws 
 of the mineral world constitute the spiritual sardonyx and 
 topaz and jacinth and amethyst imbedded in the foundations 
 
THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 205 
 
 of the wall which is garnished with all manner of precious 
 stones. It may be that the yet unrecognized beauties of the 
 botanical kingdom will be woven into the tissue with which 
 the Son of Man is to be apparelled when his raiment shall 
 become shining, exceeding white as snow, so as no fuller on 
 earth can white them, and girt about with a golden girdle. 
 It may be that the few truths which we have as yet learned 
 of astronomy, are but indices of a science which will one day 
 be revealed to us, and which will be concentrated in the 
 crown of Immanuel, inlaid with stars, and making his coun- 
 tenance as the sun shining in its strength. " And I saw no 
 temple therein," for the entire character of God is the tem- 
 ple of heaven, and its Holy of Holies is the heart of Jesus. 
 We know that all things were made by him and for him who 
 is " the brightness of the Father's glory," and therefore 
 we may hope that the science of all things which are now 
 deemed worthless, will one day unfold new glories in the 
 character of him who, while resplendent in the light of all 
 that will be then revealed, can be only described as John, 
 inspired as he was, fails to describe him in the words : "And 
 when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead." ^ 
 
 Second. Our subject may give some intimations concern- 
 ing the future blessedness of the redeemed. Even now it is 
 manifest to the spiritual eye that our Father has interposed 
 for us "to the end that we should be unto the praise of his 
 glory." - As our moral vision is purified we discern more 
 and more clearly the threads diverging from his throne and 
 connecting him with all things which he has made. Along 
 these lines our thoughts are conducted from all the points 
 where the lines terminate up to him with whom they all com- 
 mence. Thus all objects are associated with the love of God 
 and are adapted to awaken joy in his character and govern- 
 ment. They are inscribed with the word "^-/-atr" within 
 and without. The cross of Jesus is enstamped upon them, 
 
 1 Rev. i. 17. 2 Eph. i. 12, 6, 14. 
 
206 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 and their nature is disregarded in comparison with the sign 
 of this cross. An event may be connected with saddening 
 memories, but the atonement, the greatest object in the uni- 
 verse, draws away the attention from all that is sombre to 
 him who shineth in bliss. We suppose that the processes of 
 mental association will be so regulated that he l;)y, in, and 
 for whom are all things will be the most easily, quickly, and 
 permanently suggested to the minds of the redeemed, even by 
 those objects which may at first apjDear to be merely painful ; 
 and he is only to be seen, and peace floweth in as a river. If 
 a picture could be drawn of all the saints in heaven, the idea 
 of the scene, the attitude of the redeemed, would be that sug- 
 gested by the apostle, — "looking unto Jesus." He is the 
 great attraction which allures from all inferior objects ; the 
 sun which drowns in its effulgence all the stars of this lower 
 sphere ; and therefore all who value the greater above the 
 less, the end above the means, will be found at all times, in 
 all states, ' looking unto Jesus, the author and the finisher ©f 
 their faith.' 
 
 The question is often proposed. How can the joy of a saint 
 be absolutely uninterrupted, when he must reflect on his own 
 sins, which are fitted to awaken remorse, and on the sins of 
 others, which are fitted to awaken grief ? It is a great mys- 
 tery. "We cannot pierce through the veil screening this 
 problem of the ages. One explanation, however, may be that 
 Christ is a larger good than those iniquities are an evil ; and 
 the very evil suggests the idea of him who has made an 
 atonement for its removal ; and the idea of the atonement is 
 one of transport, occupying the soul to the expulsion of lower 
 thoughts. Thus even on the cloud is painted a bow which 
 dazzles the eye with its effulgence, and withdraws attention 
 from tlie darkness of the background which it spans. The 
 saints deserve to feel compunction for their long-continued 
 rejection of the atonement ; l)ut as they reflect on what tlicy 
 have rejected, their thoughts may linger around the atone- 
 ment, wliile Ihe rejection of it may be hidden in the excess 
 
THE DESIGN OP GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 207 
 
 of glory which it has suggested ; and the object for which all 
 things were made will absorb the soul and fill it with con- 
 solation, while their ill-desert is but the remembrancer of 
 the grace which educes admiration, love, and praise. The 
 laws of our mental suggestion are so marvellously contrived 
 that even llic thought of a sorrow will suggest a joy by con- 
 trast, and the soul will spring into the joy and revel in it, 
 forgetting the things that are behind. There can be no 
 darkness in heaven, for there is no more sea, and no clouds 
 to intercept the rays of the sun ; for he who made all things 
 for himself is the Sun which shineth through and over and 
 under all objects, and gilds the most opaque with his own 
 light. Therefore we are taught, in language which we infer 
 from our theme to be no hyperbole, that he who is the end 
 as well as the beginning, the last as well as the first, ' is not 
 ashamed to call us brethren ' ; that he has raised us up with 
 Christ, and made us sit with him in the heavenly places, so 
 "that in the ages to come lie might show the exceeding 
 riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus." ^ 
 The sacred penmen well-nigh seem to weary themselves in 
 order to express the love of God to his church. Language 
 breaks down under them in their attempt to portray this 
 affection. They are driven to all expedients to symbolize 
 their ideas. They even rifle the Oriental love-song of its 
 tender epithets that they may shadow forth the ardor of that 
 love which is the love of a God. " For thou art a holy people 
 unto the Lord thy God ; the Lord thy God hath chosen thee 
 to be a special people unto himself above all the people that 
 are upon the face of the eartli. The Lord did not set his love 
 upon you, nor choose you, because ye were more in number 
 than any people, for ye were the fewest of all people ; but 
 because the Lord loved you." 2 " Behold," saith Jehovah, 
 " the heaven and the heaven of heavens is the Lord's thy 
 God, the earth, also, with all that therein is. Only the Lord 
 had a delight in thy fathers to love them, and he chose their 
 
 1 Eph. ii. 7. - Dcut. vii. 6, 7, 8. 
 
208 THE DESIGN OF GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 
 
 seed after Uicm, even you, above all people, as it is this day." ^ 
 And this love of Jehovah to his church he will gratify ; and 
 in order to gratify it he will lavish riches and honor at your 
 feet, and pour out upon you all the precious things of his 
 treasury, and will display his glory by making all his good- 
 ness pass before you, because ye are one in hira ' for whom 
 and through whom are all things.' 
 
 Third. The subject of this discourse may give new strength 
 to the preacher of the gospel. He is appointed to unfold the 
 character of him Avhose essential glory consists in his perfect 
 character ; to proclaim the doctrines tending to promote the 
 holiness and tlie resulting happiness of men who glorify God 
 by their happiness in holiness. He is ordained as an agent 
 in the very enterprise for which the world was foreordained. 
 The great Architect laid the plan of his temple, in order to 
 finish tliat which he had planned. The first draft of the 
 universe was sketched for the honor and praise of true virtue, 
 and it will be filled up by all the graces for which the initial 
 lines of it were drawn. Whatever the will of men may be, 
 their constitutional instincts are in favor of rendering wor- 
 ship to God ; their consciences are in favor of the design for 
 which the church of Christ has been formed and its ministry 
 instituted. When their depraved will leads them to resist 
 the progress of true virtue, it leads them to oppose the very 
 principles of the human constitution, and the very laws by 
 which the world is governed. Our Lawgiver has not devised 
 his scheme of government in order to be defeated in it. There 
 is " one Lord, one faith, one baptism ; one God and Father of 
 all who is over all, and through all, and in all." ^ Whatever 
 else may fail, his great scheme will triumph. It is a sad 
 tnitli that some men will resist this scheme forever ; but 
 their jmnisluncnt will prove that he who loves the right 
 abhors the wrong, and liis abliorcncc of sin is the same excel- 
 lence as liis delight in the general well-being. He will 
 
 1 Doiit. X. 14, 15. - Ejih iv. 5, 6. 
 
THE DESIGN OP GOD IN HIS WORK OF CREATION. 209 
 
 demonstrate his impartial love by the penalties which the 
 general welfare compels him to inflict. His ministers may be 
 faint to-day, but they will be strong hereafter. They may be 
 discouraged this year, but they will be triumphant at last. 
 They may dream that they deliver their message in vain, but 
 when they awake in the likeness of their Maker they will see 
 that in some way unimagined by them their message has 
 illustrated his chai-acter, and thus promoted his glory. They 
 may be forgotten on cartli, but will be remembered by him 
 who ordained them as his co-workers, and wrote their names 
 on the palm of his hand. He who said : " I am the light 
 of the world," said to his ministers : " Ye are the light of the 
 world." They are ' a city set on a hill and cannot be hid.' 
 They are luminous while they live here, and will be more 
 luminous hereafter. He for whom and by whom are all 
 things has inserted in Hie very scheme of his universe that 
 they who are " wise shall shine as the brightness of the firma- 
 ment, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars 
 forever and ever." ^ 
 
 1 Dan. xii. 3. 
 
IX. 
 
 THE SYSTEM OP MORAL INFLUENCES IN WHICH 
 MEN ARE PLACED/ 
 
 GENESIS III. 13— le. 
 
 AHD THE LORD GOD SAID UKTO THE WOMAN, WHAT IS THIS THAT THOU HAST DONBT 
 AND THE WOMAN SAID, THE SERPENT BEGUII,ED ME, AND I DID E4T. AND THE 
 XORD GOD SAID UNTO THE SERPENT, BECAUSE THOU HAST DONE THIS, THOU ART 
 CURSED ABOVE ALL CATTLE, AND ABOVE EVERY BEAST OP THE FIELD: UPON THY 
 BELLY SHALT THOU GO, AND DUST SHALT THOU EAT ALL THE DAYS OF THY LIFE: 
 AND I WILL PUT ENMITY BETWEEN THEE AND THE WOMAN, AND BETWEEN THY SEED 
 AND HER SEED : IT SHALL BRUISE THY HEAD, AND THOU SHALT BRUISE HIS HEEL. 
 UNTO THE WOMAN HE SAID, I WILL GREATLY MULTIPLY THY SORROW AND THY CON- 
 CEPTION ; IN SORROWTHOU SHALT BRING FORTH CHILDREN : AND THY DESIRE SHALL 
 BE TO THY HUSBAND, AND HE SHALL RULE OVER THEE. AND UNTO ADAM HE SAID, 
 BECAUSE THOU HAST HEARKENED UNTO THE VOICE OF THY WIFE, AND HAST EATEN 
 OF THE TREE OP WHICH I COMMANDED THEE, SAYING, THOU SHALT NOT EAT OF IT! 
 CURSED IS THE GROUND FOR THY SAKE; IN SORROW SHALT THOU EAT OF IT ALL 
 THE DAYS OF THY LIFE; THORNS ALSO AND THISTLES SHALL IT BRING FORTH TO 
 THEE; AND THOU SHALT EAT THE HERB OP THE FIELD: IN THE SWEAT OP THT 
 FACE SHALT THOU EAT BREAD, TILL THOU RETURN UNTO THE GROUND ; FOR OUT 
 OP IT WAST THOU TAKEN; FOR DUST THOU ART, AND UNTO DUST SHALT THOtt 
 KETVUN. 
 
 One man finds it difficult to believe that the writers of the 
 Bible were inspired, another finds it difficult to believe that 
 they were not inspired. The seven verses which are the text 
 of the present discourse are regarded bj one man as a mere 
 Oriental legend, by another man as a figurative expression 
 of scientific truth. The truth lying under these words is too 
 deep to have been so vividly exhibited by so ancient a writer 
 without the aid of special illumination from above. To this 
 profound truth let us now direct our attention : first, to the 
 fact that men live under a system of mutual influences ; and 
 secondly, to the advantages resulting from the fact. 
 
 * See Note on pp. 232-33. 
 
THE SYSTEM OP MORAL INFLUENCES. 211 
 
 I. Tlie truth delineated in our text is, that men live in a 
 system all the parts of wliich are connected together and 
 influence each other. 
 
 1. Our text reminds us that we produce effects upon un- 
 sentient matter, and it exercises a power over us, and in this 
 way we are amalgamated with it. We arc informed that at 
 the beginning man had dominion over the earth and its fruits. 
 He was to subdue the land. In part, his sway over matter is 
 yet retained. He now makes the rough places smooth, com- 
 pels the water to yield a subtile ether augmenting the velocity 
 of travel, and makes the lightning hurry along the tremu- 
 lous wires conveying the quickest news. But his influence 
 over the earth is not altogether benignant. Originally the 
 ground was cursed for Adam's sake ; and in all succeeding 
 time it has been cursed anew by the crimes of men, for men 
 are in one sense representatives of Adam, as he, in another 
 sense, was a representative of them. Not seldom do they 
 mar the beauty of a landscape, impoverish the soil for the 
 gratification of a disordered appetite, and, eager to trouble 
 an enemy, they spread devastation over scenes of former 
 fruitfulness. 
 
 Do men produce an impression on the material world ? 
 So does the material world produce an impression upon men. 
 " In the sweat of thy face," says our text, " shalt thou eat 
 bread," — the bread that cometh from the soil, — until " thou 
 return unto the ground, for out of it wast thou taken," and 
 out of the ground are we taken still ; out of the soil do 
 we derive our sustenance, — for says the text, "in sorrow 
 shalt thou eat of it," — of the ground, — " all the days of thy 
 life, and thou shalt eat the herb of the field." Our bodies 
 gathered from the pastures and the waters and the atmos- 
 phere, incorporate us with the earth beneath us and the air 
 above and around us. As in a sense we are one with Adam, 
 so in a sense are we one with tlie orchards and the streams. 
 Our physical nature is a fruit of the earth, which is our 
 
212 THE SYSTEM OP MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 mother-earth. Tlie temperament of this physical nature has 
 a power over our moral nature ; so that our moral nature is 
 intertwined with the boughs of the trees and the clusters of 
 the vineyard. Our entire character is meliorated by the 
 grandeur of the stars of heaven ; and a well-known poet, 
 gathering sentiment from the expanse of the ocean, sings in 
 a filial thanksgiving to it : 
 
 '* I was, as it were, a child of thee." 
 
 Does matter exert a favorable influence on us uniformly ? 
 Sometimes the influence is unfavorable. Thorns and thistles 
 shall the ground bring forth to thee, was the suggestive word to 
 Adam. Thorns and tliistlcs crowd our patliway now. One 
 fruit of the earth is the vine, and the fruit of the vine, hallowed 
 though it be by sacramental uses, has become a symbol of 
 wrangling and low pleasure. In fatigue of the body does the 
 laborer dig up gold, and the gold is an incentive to pride, 
 and is stigmatized as filthy lucre. Our most familiar words 
 are mementos that we are ' conceived in sin and shapen in 
 iniquity.' We speak of " the world, the flesh, and the devil" 
 as belonging to one class. The phrase " of the earth, 
 earthy " signifies that we are corruptible, but intimates that 
 we are polluted. We read of 'the law in the members 
 warring against the law of the mind,' and extorting the cry, 
 " wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the 
 body of this death ? " 
 
 2. Our text with its context reminds us that we are affected 
 by irrational animals, as they in their turn are affected by 
 ourselves, and thus are we united with them. " Have do- 
 minion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, 
 and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth" i was 
 the primitive grant to our race. And this dominion we still 
 in some degree retain. The animal tribes minister to our 
 wants, bear our burdens, undergo for us heavy toil; some 
 of them move at the sound of the names which we give them, 
 
 1 Gen. i. 28. 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 213 
 
 as our representative gave them names in Eden ; some of 
 them become incorporated with us at tlieir death. Out of the 
 ground come the plants, and they drink up its moisture and 
 gather vitalizing ingredients from the atmosphere ; and, says 
 our context, " to every beast of the earth I have given every 
 green herb for meat" ; and some tribes of these animals are 
 offered as nutriment to other tribes, and these in their turn 
 are offered as nutriment to man, and he derives from them 
 the strength which they have collected from the rains and 
 the rivers and the fruits, and thus he comes into union with 
 the atmosphere which he inhales into himself, with the 
 harvests which are incorporated into him, and with the herds 
 and the flocks which form his physical vigor. 
 
 And has he merely a physical relation to the animal tribes ? 
 TVe cannot read the words of inspired poets without catch- 
 ing a sentiment from the forms and motions of the sparrow 
 alone upon the house-top, of the hart panting for the water- 
 brook, of the birds which make the air a temple resonant 
 with God's praise, of the dove and the lamb, symbols of the 
 divine benevolence and of the vicarious sacrifice. "We dis- 
 pute on the question whether holy men were inspired to utter 
 what they did not understand ; but we hold no debate on the 
 question whether mere animals are so made and so moved 
 that they teach us more truth than they know and persuade 
 us to the virtue which they can never practise. 
 
 Is our connection with the animal races uniformly genial ? 
 Sometimes it is the opposite. " I will put enmity between 
 thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed," 
 was the address to the serpent ; and here is a representative 
 of an inborn repugnance between the human family and 
 various families of the brutes. The locust, the scorpion, the 
 dragon, the raven, the eagle hasting for its prey, the roaring 
 of the lion, the voice of the fierce lion, the ranging bear, the 
 bear bereaved of her whelps, arc all connected with man, 
 antagonistic to him, and are emblems of that punitive justice, 
 which, though it be pure and spiritual, and though it be love, 
 
214 THE SYSTEM OP MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 yet prompts our great Ruler to <5xclaim ; " Now consider 
 this, ye that forget God, lest I tear you in pieces, and there 
 he none to deliver." ^ 
 
 And is it merely true that brutes exercise a power over 
 man ? He also affects them for evil or for good. Our text 
 informs us that an irrational being was connected with the 
 first sin of man, was therefore cursed with a prone form, an 
 earthy sustenance, an exposure to violent death, and its very 
 name was transferred to the spiritual serpent, who was also 
 connected with man in man's first disobedience. And since 
 tliat day, men have earned the renown of heroes at the 
 expense of hecatombs of unoffending animals ; and on ac- 
 count of human iniquity, ' the flock has been cut off from the 
 fold, and there has been no herd in the stall,' and " I beheld," 
 says the weeping prophet, " and, lo, there was no man, and 
 all the birds of the heavens were fled." 
 
 3. Our text reminds us that men exert on each other aa 
 influence for evil or for good, and so are connected together 
 in one system. No man liveth to himself. A single word 
 of a friend may transform for good or ill the character of a 
 sympathetic circle. A solitary act is often an example mould- 
 ing for better or worse the temper of a mutually interested 
 community. A Napoleon has troubled the world. A Wilber- 
 force has soothed it. The odes of Byron have hardened, the 
 hymns of Cowper have mellowed, the spirit. Every day 
 some careless traveller has spread an infectious disease 
 through a ncigliborhood. Every day some beloved physician 
 has provided a restorative for the malady. For two thousand 
 years there has been a school of philosophers so intimately con- 
 nected with each otlier that they have been called a scholastic 
 body, and Aristotle has been its vital head, and both truths 
 and errors have flowed from that head through all the mem- 
 
 1 Among the passages in which mental or moral qualities are illustrated by 
 references to the animal kingdom, see Num. xxiii. 22 ; xxiv. 8, 9 ; Job x. 16; 
 Ps. vii. 2 ; 1. 22 ; Isa. xxxi. 4, 5 ; Lam. iii. 10 ; Hosea v. 14 ; xi. 10 ; xiii. 7, 8. 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 216 
 
 bers of that body. Some of our opinions, right and wrong, 
 may be imputed to him. For many centuries there has been 
 a school of divines so closely united that they have been 
 termed a theological body ; and Augustine has been its head, 
 and many truths and untruths are even now coursing their 
 way from him through all the members of the body. Some 
 of our own notions, right and wrong, may be imputed to 
 him. 
 
 ' These things are not done in a corner.' They are open, 
 plain, in the broad light of day. And all the evil men who 
 have ever exerted an evil influence upon us are in one sense 
 representatives of that disobedient man who is described in 
 our text, and who is the head of our entire race. Warriors, 
 incendiaries, marauders, ill-minded magistrates, perverse 
 neighbors, petulant fathers and mothers, have disseminated 
 trouble among their fellow mortals, and have thus carried 
 out on a small scale what Adam began on a large scale. 
 The sin of our first ancestor was the occasion on which it 
 became certain that his posterity would have an evil nature 
 and a sinful character. So intervolved were his descendants 
 with himself that if he disobeyed they would in consequence 
 of their nature and in the exercise of their freedom choose 
 to disobey.^ It is not a truth peculiar to the Bible ; it is a 
 truth of natural science, that the offspring are like their 
 
 1 Among the diversified forms in which the Fall of Man is expressed are the 
 following : "All mankind descending from him [Adam] by ordinary generation, 
 sinned in him, and fell with him in his first transgression." Westminster Shorter 
 Catechism, A. 16. — It was according to a divine constitution that if Adam 
 sinned, all his posterity would sin ; " in consequence of his [Adam's] disobe- 
 dience all his descendants were constituted sinners" ; and "by nature every man 
 IS personally dc[)raved/' etc. Andover Creed. — Bishop Butler in an incidental 
 allusion to the doctrine uses the following language : " That the crime of our 
 first parents was the occasion of our being placed in a more disadvantageous 
 condition is a thing throughout, and particularly analogous to what we see, in 
 the daily course of natural Providence ; as the recovery of the world by the 
 interposition of Christ has been shown to be so in general." Butler's Complete 
 Works, Vol. i. p. 242 (Cambridge ed.). In the Bishop's opinion the whole 
 •' constitution and course of nature" may bo appealed to as either sanctioning, 
 or as consistent with the Biblical doctrine of the Fall. 
 
216 THE SYSTEM OP MORAL INFLTIENCES 
 
 parent. The lamb has the harmless temper of the genus 
 from which it sprung. So the human soul was fashioned in 
 the image of its Maker ; but as our ancestor lost this like- 
 ness, the souls of his children have been formed in the image 
 of his own apostate mind. Of the men who believe in his 
 apostasy, one class has deemed it proper, and another class 
 has deemed it unwise, to say that his sin is imputed to his 
 children, but the two classes have united in the belief that 
 the sin of his children, — the sin for which they are ever 
 blameworthy, because in it they are ever free, may yet be 
 imputed to him in the sense of being fathered upon him as 
 its remote occasion. So there are two classes of men who 
 believe with equal confidence that Christ is the second Adam 
 set over against the first ; that as the first Adam is the head 
 of the race, so the second Adam is the head of the church. 
 One of these classes has deemed it proper, the other has 
 deemed it unwise, to say that our iniquities are imputed to 
 him who bore them on the tree and died for them. Both of 
 these classes, however, have united in the faith that all our 
 holiness may be imputed to our Elder Brother, for it was all 
 derived from him, for he was raised from the dead in order 
 that he may give repentance to Israel.^ We love him because 
 he first loved us. His precious example wins our homage. 
 His endearing words draw forth our gratitude. By his death 
 is the Spirit purchased for us ; and without his death is no 
 remission. All our happiness in this life must be imputed 
 to him suffering for our earthly peace. All our happiness 
 in the life to come must be imputed to him dying that we 
 might live and rising again that as in Adam all die so in 
 Christ should all be made alive. The varied benefactors of 
 our race are symbols of this illustrious benefactor who is 
 clearly connected with Adam, because he is the seed of the 
 woman from which we all spring ; and he is clearly connected 
 with us because he sprung from our ancestor, and he is 
 clearly connected with God because he is the Son of God, 
 
 1 Acts V. 31 ; iii. 26 ; Luke xxiv. 46. 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 217 
 
 and he connects us with God, because God is our Father and 
 his Father ; and thus our Mediator unites us all in one. 
 
 n. "We have now considered the fact that men live in a 
 system the various parts of which are connected together 
 and influence each other. Let us next consider the advan- 
 tages resulting from this fact. 
 
 1. The connection between the different parts of the sys- 
 tem in which we live leads us to trust in the sovereignty of 
 Jehovah. "We may imagine that it were better to have every 
 plant independent of every other. If a rock fall from the hill- 
 top, let it not bruise the tender grass. If a tree be prostrated, 
 let it break down no contiguous tree. But the plants and 
 the rocks and the trees are not thus disconnected with other 
 things. All things are interdependent, not because we would 
 have it so, but because He would have it so who takes an 
 enlarged view of the great system, who sees the bearings of 
 one event upon a remote history, the influence of a single 
 feeling upon distant orders of intelligences, the relations of 
 all things to each and of each to all, and who makes all 
 things work together for the good of them who love him. 
 Perhaps we are so combined with the remoter parts of his 
 universe that on their account and for their good we must 
 be exposed to evil. It may be expedient for a few men to 
 suffer pain, that distant realms may not perish.^ It may be 
 that the virtue of multitudes who are yet to be created will 
 be strengthened by their knowledge of the sufferings now 
 endured ; and virtue is too precious a good to be lost for the 
 sake of mere freedom from pain. Tliere are graces of com- 
 passion, of sympathy, which cannot be exercised by even the 
 good, unless there be some woe to call them forth. Inno- 
 cent beings themselves may learn to perform new duties by 
 
 1 John xi. 50, Men wlio are unwilling to allow that the sufferings of a few 
 are providentiaJhj designed for the welfare of tlie many, are yet willing to allow 
 that the sufferings of a few are actually conducive to the welfare of the many. 
 They object not so much to the fact as to the design of the fact. 
 
218 THE SYSTEM OF MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 the discipline of pain. Courage, patience, fortitude, resigna- 
 tion, perseverance, are unknown where there is no hardship 
 to endure. For men who are entirely sinful, it is well that 
 the earth is not a lap on which they can rest with ease. Per- 
 haps new forms of goodness might adorn even angelic min4s, 
 if they were subjected to severe toil ; and there is no species 
 of goodness but is cheaply bought at the price of suffering. 
 For suffering is not the greatest of evils ; sin is greater ; the 
 "want of a varied holiness is greater. "We must confide, then, 
 in the comprehensive benevolence of him who understands 
 all the modes in which our social liabilities to evil are coupled 
 with benefits more than compensating for the evils incident 
 to them. We may wisely rejoice in the reign of him who 
 has for the plan of his government such reasons as we are 
 too small minded to estimate, whose sovereignty consists in 
 conducting his administration according to principles too pro- 
 found, too good, for us to comprehend. Therefore, ' the glory 
 of the Lord is to conceal a thing,' and to bid us walk by 
 faith where we cannot walk by sight. 
 
 2. The fact that the system to which we belong is charac- 
 terized by reciprocal influences, reveals the equity of its 
 author. The Bible has been condemned because it describes 
 the Lord as " visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the 
 children unto the third and fourth generation." ^ But this 
 description is not peculiar to the Bible. The whole world 
 gives the same, and our subject explains the reason of it. 
 The children who suffer on occasion of their parent's sin are 
 either themselves innocent, or they are guilty ; and, on either 
 supposition, it is right for the great Sovereign to afflict them 
 for the general well-being. 
 
 Let us suppose that they are innocent. The Lord cursed 
 the unoffending ground for man's sake. In order to ex- 
 press his abhorrence of sin he has consumed the trees and 
 the herds of sinful proprietors. We suppose that, ages before 
 
 J Ex. XX. 5. 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 219 
 
 the crime of Adam, there was death among the animal tribes, 
 violent and painful death. When he rebelled, the pains of 
 animals may have been associated with his rebellion, may have 
 become a sign of its malignity, as the bow at the time of the 
 flood assumed a new and moral significance. The death of 
 animals, then, which was right before the sin of Eden, was 
 right afterwards in connection with that sin. On the same 
 principle the woes of a child, even if he be supposed guiltless 
 as a lamb or dove, may be justified as emblems of the divine 
 displeasure toward the guilt of others, — the guilt of parents, 
 the guilt of the race, of Adam as the ancestor, head, repre- 
 sentative of the race. 
 
 When Dathan and Abiram fell into crime, the earth swal- 
 lowed up their houses and all th*eir goods ; for these inani- 
 mate substances were all associated with the sacrilege of 
 their owners, and were therefore fitly associated with the 
 displeasure of heaven. If the children of these profane men 
 had been spotless as the jessamine, there had been no wrong 
 in calling them from the world at the time of their fathers' 
 exit. They would have suffered no legal penalty implying 
 that they had commited a sin which they never did commit ; 
 they would have been merely afflicted during a brief hour in 
 order to illustrate the evil of their fathers' crime and to 
 express the divine abhorrence of all crime, and then would 
 have passed into the arms of him who when on earth took 
 up little children in his arms, and who now ever liveth and 
 taketh up little children from the earth unto himself ; for he 
 knowcth their frame, he remcmbereth that they are dust. 
 We can trust their spirits with his kindness. A mother may 
 forget her offspring, but God will never forget the objects of 
 his care. His love is the quickening principle of his most 
 mysterious dispensations. 
 
 If now the great Sovereign who keeps justice and judg- 
 ment for the habitation of his throne when clouds and dark- 
 nes's are round about him, has the right to afflict the children 
 on occasion of their father's sin even if the children be re- 
 
220 THE SYSTEM OF MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 garded as innocent, much more has he this right if they bo 
 regarded as guilty. For, so long as guilty, they deserve to 
 suffer for their own sins ; and their parent's iniquity may be 
 an occasion on which God determines to inflict upon them 
 the pain which they merit for themselves. Justice allows 
 him to send their deserved punishment upon them at any 
 time ; he selects the opportunity of their parent's trans- 
 gression, but he might inflict the same penalty upon them 
 without any such antecedent as the parental guilt. A merited 
 penalty may be inflicted on the offspring when or before or 
 after it is inflicted upon the progenitors. 
 
 But God has made a distinction broad as possible between 
 the merited or legal punishment for a man's own sin, and 
 the pains to which a man is subjected for the sins of others. 
 " What mean ye," he exclaims, in a most affecting plea for 
 his own uprightness, " that ye use this proverb, saying, The 
 fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are 
 set on edge ? " ^ There is an intrinsic absurdity in the very 
 idea of such a transference of sensations from him who 
 eateth to him who eateth not. " As I live, saith the Lord 
 God, ye shall not have occasion any more to use this proverb. 
 .... K a man be just, and do that which is lawful and right 
 
 he shall surely live," and if a sinful man " beget a son 
 
 that seeth all his father's sins and doeth not such like," ^ that 
 son shall not die in legal punishment for the iniquity of his 
 father ; he shall surely live. " Yet say ye, Why ? doth not the 
 son bear the iniquity of the father ? " ^ Do we not see this 
 occurence every day ? The son is connected with the father, 
 he may suffer pains in consequence of that connection ; but 
 
 " when the son hath kept all my statutes he shall 
 
 surely live. The soul that sinneth, it shall die ; the son shall 
 not bear "* the legal punishment of the iniquity of the father, 
 neither shall the father bear the legal punishment of the 
 iniquity of the son. " Yet ye say. The way of the Lord is 
 
 1 Ezek. xviii. 2. 2 ^zek. xviii. 3, 5, 9, 14. 
 
 8 Ezek. xviii. 19. " Ezek. xviii. 19, 20. 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 221 
 
 not equal. house of Israel, are not my ways equal ? Are 
 not your ways unequal ? Therefore I will judge you every 
 one according to his ways. Turn yourselves from all your 
 transgressions, so iniquity shall not be your ruin. Cast away 
 from you all your transgressions whercl^y ye have trans- 
 gressed ; for why loill ye die, house of Israel ? For I have 
 no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, saith the Lord 
 God ; wherefore turn yourselves and live ye." ^ If an omnis- 
 cient mind had desired to express in more distinct terms the 
 idea that no moral penalty of a moral law shall be inflicted 
 upon an innocent being, we do not perceive how such a mind, 
 knowing all thoughts, all illustrations, all words, could have 
 selected plainer terms for expressing this simple idea. 
 
 This idea is illustrated in all history. The treason of 
 Korah was bold, he enticed the multitude into a nefarious 
 alliance with him, and the discriminating Judge said unto 
 Moses and Aaron, " Separate yourselves from among this con- 
 gregation, that I may consume them in a moment. And they 
 [Moses and Aaron] fell upon their faces and said, God, 
 the God of the spirits of all flesh, shall one man sin, and wilt 
 thou be wroth with all the congregation ?" ^ But it was 
 the divine purpose to distinguish the precious from the vile. 
 Then Moses proclaimed to the congregation, with voice loud 
 and quick, " Depart, I pray you, from the tents of these 
 
 wicked men lest ye be consumed in all their sins." ^ 
 
 The opportunity was given. Tlie line was fairly drawn. 
 The innocent separated themselves from the guilty. " The 
 children of Korah died not," ^ although he himself perished 
 by the " fire from the Lord." ^ Some of his descendants 
 became eminent in the Levitical service. Several of the 
 Psalms were inscribed to them. But " Dathan and Abiram 
 stood in the door of their tents, and their wives and their sons 
 and their little children, and the earth opened her mouth and 
 swallowed them up and their houses, — and they and all that 
 
 1 Ezck. xviii. 25, 29-32. 2 jjum. xvi. 21, 22. » Num. xvi. 26. 
 
 ■• Num. xxvi. 11. * Num. xvi. 35. 
 
222 THE SYSTEM OF MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 appertained to them went down alive into the pit And 
 
 all Israel that were round about them fled at the cry of them ; 
 for they said, Lest the earth swallow us up also." ^ These 
 men perished in their own sin, and for their own sin. They 
 followed the lead of Korah, attached themselves to his party 
 by free choice, and his iniquity was visited upon them, 
 because they participated in it. And the whole race of 
 Adam may endure many pains, and fall into divers tempta- 
 tions on account of his first disobedience ; but unless they 
 sympathize with his disobedience, unless they imitate his 
 sin, and thus endorse it by cherishing it, they will endure 
 no eternal punishment therefor ; but as the Lord liveth, the 
 afflictions of this present life will yield for them, if they do 
 not indulge in sin, the peaceable fruit of righteousness. A 
 man may suffer pain ; but no man shall suffer moral punish- 
 ment unless he himself, freely, voluntarily, " would have 
 it so." 
 
 3. It has been already intimated, but needs to be specially 
 emphasized, that the mental dependencies of all parts of the 
 universe illustrate the evil of sin. If we understand the evil 
 of sin we may appreciate the worth of virtue. One reason 
 why we do not appreciate the excellence of the divine law 
 and the grandeur of the atonement is, that we do not under- 
 stand the vileness of that which the law forbids and which the 
 atonement was intended to prevent. Unnumbered errors 
 flow from the failure to consider the enormity of the smallest 
 transgression. In the history of Adam lies imbedded a deep 
 philosophy. It explains the very structure of tlie human 
 mind, the laws according to Avhicli our ideas and our emotions 
 are associated together. The objections against our depend- 
 ence on the head of our race are in reality objections against 
 the constitutional order of our thoughts. Many families have 
 desired to change their name because the' name has been 
 tarnished by sonn) criminal. He disgraced tliem even though 
 
 >■ Num. xvi. 27, 32-34. 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 223 
 
 his blood was foreign from their own. The relatives of 
 many a Dathan have felt that they were buried in a pit of 
 dishonor because the crime of their kinsman was suggested 
 whenever they themselves were mentioned. Whether they 
 merited their dishonor or not, they suffered an evil from 
 their social liabilities. In our thoughts we extend the man 
 over "all that appertains to him." The divine judgments 
 upon him correspond with this order of our thoughts, and are 
 spread out over the same large sphere. When our feelings 
 against a malefactor are deeply stirred, we find it natural to 
 extend them over his dwelling-place and the gardens that 
 surround it ; the animals that serve him, the assistants who 
 attend upon him, his ancestors and his posterity. The 
 troubles which flow from his crime spread themselves out 
 through a vast circle. 
 
 To taste the forbidden fruit was the act of a moment, but 
 the disasters that followed that brief rebellion have diffused 
 themselves through all the race through all time. If our 
 apostate father exercised a true faith in the promise of our 
 text, that the seed of the woman should bruise the head of the 
 spiritual serpent, and if, therefore, the first Adam has been 
 saved from remorse as we devoutly trust that he has been 
 redeemed by the second Adam, he must in heaven perceive 
 more vividly than any abstract lesson could teach him, how 
 bitter a thing it is to offend in one point. For he offended 
 once, and the pains of women in travail, and the shrieks of 
 dying men, and the throngs of spirits who have imitated noth- 
 ing but his transgression, and have plunged and are plunging 
 into the ruin for which he first paved the easy way, are all 
 comments on the mischievous nature of a single disobedi- 
 ence. And if we make the supposition, which we may be 
 allowed to make while we do not believe it to be the true 
 one, that he is now suffering the death involved in the 
 threatening of our text, his punishment must be aggravated 
 in view of the evils which he has occasioned. For all the 
 famine and the pestilence and the bloodshed and the linger- 
 
224 THE SYSTEM OF MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 ing sicknesses and the harrowing fears of his posterity on 
 earth, arc added to the remorse and the anguish of his. 
 descendants who have now passed and lost their probation,, 
 and they must give a new volume to the waves of trouble 
 that roll over him. Under this accumulation of sorrows, 
 gathered from all his posterity in all lands, upon his own 
 head, and to be collected still from the north and the south, 
 the east and the west, wherever his descendants follow his 
 pernicious ways, he reads a lesson more impressive than any 
 words can render it, " Sin is exceeding sinful." 
 
 Here is the measure of the guilt of a single act starting a 
 train of other acts laden with a similar guilt. Here is the 
 divine estimate of the blameworthiness of one wrong thought 
 opening a course expanding and deepening of similar thoughts. 
 This is the law which God adopts ; he teaches by example, 
 by fact; he manifests the heinousness of transgression by 
 pain diffused through all the avenues of the system into 
 which the lines of mental association arc drawn out. And 
 the lesson taught by the results of Adam's sin is taught 
 by every sin. It is nothing arbitrary, nothing sectarian, 
 nothing biblical more than it is scientific. It is written in 
 the very constitution of the mind and body, the family and 
 the tribe. It need not imply any special interposition of 
 divine providence. It is the normal result of the very nature 
 of transgression that it shall circulate its mischiefs through- 
 out the sphere in which the transgressor moves. The crime 
 of Benedict Arnold enveloped the germs of a wide-spread 
 calamity. Upon the third generation has descended the 
 shame of the traitor as really as the treason of Dathan and 
 Abiram was visited upon their relatives. His former dwelling 
 has been often regarded with abhorrence, and all that apper- 
 tained to him has been swallowed up in infamy. The results 
 of his treason have been a warning against a repetition of it. 
 Many a fatlicr has been deterred from crime, not so much 
 by the fear of his own infamy, as by the dread of burying 
 his offspring in his ruin. He is bound to his little ones by 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 225 
 
 a golden chain. He fears to walk in the way of transgres- 
 sion lost lie draw with him those who are attached to his 
 very being by this strong connective. He recoils from the 
 guilt of inducing them so to act that, while they suffer their 
 merited pain, they may yet impute their ruin to his example. 
 Here is the profound instruction written in the law that the 
 iniquities of the father shall be visited upon the son. 
 
 As this law works forward, so there is a similar law which 
 works backward. Children sometimes tempt their parent 
 into iniquity. He yields to their wicked appliances. His 
 sin is imputed to them even while his conscience reprimands 
 him for dallying with their solicitations. It is in the consti- 
 tution of things that the disgrace of a son covers the father 
 with ignominy. The transgressions of the children are visited 
 upon the parent, for the virus of iniquity is active, energetic, 
 rushing upward and downward, to the right and to the left, 
 ascends to the father and the mother as well as descends to 
 the son and the daughter. " A foolish son is a grief to his 
 father and bitterness to her that bare him." " Sharper than 
 a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless [or a vicious] 
 child." 
 
 Wlien the youug man is far from the homestead of his 
 mother, and recalls her tender care, her winning smiles and 
 soft entreaties, he reins in his impetuous passions lest he 
 make his mother's name a by-word and a hissing among 
 strangers, and lest he drive sleep from her eyes, and slumber 
 from her eyelids until she lay down her head on the lap of 
 the earth, — her mother-earth whence she was taken, — and 
 her spirit fly to the land where the wicked children cease 
 from troubling and the weary mothers are at rest. There 
 cannot be a more instructive lesson on the evils of parental 
 indulgence and of filial ingratitude than is found in the 
 simple narrative of the priest who was ninety and eight years 
 old, whose sons had been violent and boisterous, and had 
 needed to be held in with bit and bridle, but he had endeav- 
 ored to guide them by merely gentle touches and sometimes 
 
226 THE SYSTEM OF MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 had yielded the reins to their headstrong temper. Therefore 
 said the Lord to him, ' Behold the days come that I will cut 
 off thine arm, and the arm of thy father's house, that there 
 shall not be an old man in thy lineage, and all the increase 
 of thine house shall die in the flower of their age. And I 
 will bring upon thee such an evil that whosoever heareth of 
 it, both his ears shall tingle.' And the old man sat by the 
 way-side waiting for the result of the battle of the Philistines ; 
 and when he heard that his two sons were slain and the ark 
 of God was taken, " he fell from off the seat backward by the 
 side of the gate, and his neck brake, and he died, for he was 
 an old man and heavy, and he had judged Israel forty 
 years." ^ His parental unfaithfulness was visited upon his 
 children, and their filial perverseness was visited upon their 
 parent ; he was a representative of ill-deserving fathers, and 
 both he and they, as well as David and Hezekiah and Manas- 
 seh and Adam illustrate the great truth that all sin is adverse 
 to the very elements of our constitution, and therefore pro- 
 lific of inward as well as outward woe, that the parts of the 
 family and the social and the national and the universal 
 system are so adjusted to each other that if one be disturbed, 
 all are confused, and wherever there is delinquency there 
 will be heartache and remorse. 
 
 4. Herein it becomes evident that the connections pervad- 
 ing the system in which we dwell, abound with persuasives 
 to a holy life. " Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord, 
 ihat dclighteth greatly in his commandments. His seed 
 shall be mighty upon earth." God will remember the faith- 
 fulness of his friends even to the third and fourth generation 
 •of them that love him. He has made parental affection 
 both an instinct and a duty. It is, then, both a natural and 
 :a moral stimulus to the exercise of virtues which had else 
 lain dormant. He has so contrived the laws of mental 
 '.association that the honor of a parent is diffused in tht. 
 
 1 1 Sam. ii. 31, 33 ; iii. 11 ; iv. 13, 18. 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 227 
 
 popular mind over the children, and they inherit his good 
 name. Thousands of men and women have been first 
 prompted to a beneficent life by the desire to bequeath a good 
 character and a good reputation to their offspring. Natural 
 instinct has aided piety. " For I know Abraham, that he 
 will command his children and his household after him, and 
 they shall keep the way of the Lord to do justice and judg- 
 ment." They were blessed for their father's sake ; and to 
 him, in some measure, are their virtues to be imputed. And 
 this great law of influence as well as of association 1.3 oft- 
 times reversed. Parents have been reclaimed by their off- 
 spring from sin. The prayer of a dying child has reformed 
 a wayward father. The self-denials of a youthful missionary 
 have nourished in his parents a spirit of self-sacrifice. As 
 the patriarch was raised from his humble tent in Goshen to 
 a seat near the throne of Egypt by the intervention of a son, 
 so many an aged father has been introduced into the king- 
 dom of Jehovah and stationed at the right hand of that 
 higher than Egyptian throne by the instrumentality of his 
 offspring who have power with God and prevail in their inter- 
 cessions. Hundreds of ingenuous youth in our cities and 
 schools are stimulated to a life of diligence by the hope of 
 reflecting honor on their progenitors. This is but a symbol 
 of the nobler motive which ought to animate the young, who 
 by an exemplary life and earnest prayer, may brighten and 
 multiply the glories in the midst of which their parents may 
 walk and shine throughout their blessed immortality. 
 
 This reciprocal influence of parents and children is a 
 symbol of other influences exerted by teachers over pupils 
 and pupils over teachers, by rulers over the people and the 
 people over rulers, by the rich over the poor and the poor 
 over the rich, the learned over the ignorant and the igno- 
 rant over the learned. There is an active benevolence 
 which, like a shuttle, weaves together the warp and the woof 
 of society. As there are ministries of evil which we must 
 resist on account of the ease with which their spreading 
 
228 THE SYSTEM OP MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 mischiefs go forth into all the relations of life, so there are 
 ministries of good which we are incited to cherish, by the 
 facility with which they diffuse their power through all 
 branches of the social system. The faithful preachers of 
 Christ are the heart of the body politic. The truth which 
 they send forth is like the blood sustaining and nourishing 
 the extremities of the system which it pervades in every vein 
 and artery. The face of the country, of the hills and the 
 meadows, is improved by a well organized and devout church. 
 When Christianity was introduced into this continent, the 
 wilderness began to blossom as the rose. The prevalence 
 of religion engenders a spirit of enterprise, industry, and 
 thrift ; and pleasant gardens bloom where once the thorn 
 and thistle flourished, and happy children play where once 
 the serpent crawled on the earth and ate the dust ; and this 
 reversal of the curse denounced in our text is a symbol of 
 the moral virtues which under the ministry of the word 
 spring up and flourish, whose leaf shall be green, and they 
 shall not cease from yielding fruit. It is because men are 
 so cemented with each other, and with lower and higher 
 orders of being, that the missionary of the cross is impelled 
 to his great work. When he has been the means of Christ- 
 ianizing a nation, the very soil will become more productive ; 
 the very animals will receive a benefit from his interposition ; 
 the waves of the sea will be affected by his vicinity, they 
 will be ploughed, as never before, with keels that are swift 
 to bear goodly freights ; the arts of civilization will be sub- 
 stituted for brutish usages ; governments will be constructed 
 on the rational principles of the Bible ; science will flourish ; 
 poetry will Ijloora ; there shall be joy in heaven over many a 
 sinner that rcpenteth ; tlic heathen shall be given to Christ for 
 an inheritance, and shall throng the courts of the upper tem- 
 ple ; and he who became one with man shall be glorified in that 
 pagan nation, they in him and he in them, that tliey may all 
 be made perfect in one, even in that One who has united our 
 apostate race with the Creator of this mysteriously connected 
 
m WHICH MEN AKE PLACED. 229 
 
 universe, and has made the missionary of the cross a bond 
 of union among all the creatures of God. 
 
 5. Thus we perceive that the mutual influences which inter- 
 lace our system are the means of our eternal blessedness. 
 If there had been ten righteous men found in the cities of 
 the plain, God would have spared those cities, in despite of 
 their abominations ; for he loves his chosen ones, he knows 
 how they are interlocked with their relatives and friends, 
 and he spares the many in his grace to the few. He ever 
 manifests a touching reluctance to chastise the wicked, lest 
 he also afflict the innocent. Often, he allows the tares to 
 grow until the harvest because in plucking up the tares he 
 would disturb the wheat also. There were cogent reasons 
 why his judgments should descend upon Nineveh in one 
 unmitigated storm ; but he could not overlook the " much 
 cattle" connected with the guilty Ninevites: he could not 
 give up his pity for the poor mute creatures who had been 
 faithful in their services to man, — who had known their 
 owner and acknowledged their master's crib, — who had lived 
 a hard life, bowing down their necks to take heavy burdens, 
 and in their unthinking innocence stood ready to lick the 
 hand just raised to shed their blood ; — these guiltless 
 creatures were associated with man and the great Spirit 
 spared the city for their sake, and for ' the sake of the six 
 score thousand persons who could not discern between their 
 right hand and their left.' ^ Often when the cry of blood has 
 come up to him from the ground, he has been lenient to a 
 murderous tribe because of their helpless infants ; and when 
 the necessities of his administration have required him to 
 bury the little ones in the same ruin with those who had 
 incurred the guilt, it has been with yearnings of his more 
 than fatherly compassion. And all the instances in which 
 his unoffending creatures have interposed between his justice 
 and its erring victims are symbols— for the earth is full of 
 
 1 Jonah iv. 11. 
 
230 THE SYSTEM OF MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 symbols, and the history of our race is a history of symbols — 
 of that illustrious mediation whereby the Lamb of God took 
 away the sins of the world. He so connected himself with 
 all who believe in him that if punitive justice alight upon 
 them, it must cover him also. He steps between the up- 
 lifted sword and its predestined object, and if it strike them it 
 must first pierce him. Therefore is the sword returned 
 into its scabbard, and peace cometh unto the elect of God. 
 
 Minute are the analogies between the first and the second 
 Adam. One of the irrational creatures was connected with 
 the primeval sin, and we read that " the Holy Ghost descen- 
 ded in a bodily form as a dove upon him " ^ who broke the 
 charm of that sin, and who was prefigured by the lamb. An 
 evil spirit was concerned in the rebellion of Adam, and the 
 birth of Christ was celebrated by a choir of angels, and one 
 of them ministered strength to him at his death, — and 
 legions of them will be his convoy at his last appearing. 
 In the garden was the forbidden tree " whose mortal taste 
 brought death into the world " ; in the garden was the 
 Redeemer's conflict, in the garden did he rise from the tomb, 
 and he reigns in the Paradise where ' is the tree of life,' and 
 ' men who have washed their robes have the right to come to 
 the tree of life ' and ' the leaves of the tree are for the healing 
 of the nations.' A malediction rested on the ground itself 
 when Adam abused its fruits ; but the whole earth shall be 
 one sacred dwelling-place of him who was once buried in its 
 recesses and who sanctified the very grave itself. In the first 
 apostasy woman fell into sorrow and degradation as well as 
 crime ; but Christ has exalted that sex one of whom bring- 
 ing sweet spices came first to his sepulchre ; for he honored 
 the mother that bare him, and the friend that anointed him 
 for his Ijurial. When Adam performed his typical act, 
 "Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return" was the 
 sentence ; " but " as in Adam all die so also in Christ shall 
 all be made alive ; " and "if by one man's offence death 
 
 1 Luke iii. 22. 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 231 
 
 reigned by one ; much more they which receive abundance 
 of grace and of the gift of righteousness shall reign in life 
 by one, Jesus Christ." The virtue, then, which comes from 
 our union with Jesus is higher than the sin which comes 
 from our union with Adam is deep. The bliss which attends 
 our connection with the antitype is nobler than the pain 
 which attends our connection with the type is debasing. The 
 relations of the universe to the seed of the woman are more 
 numerous, more honorable, than the relations of the uni- 
 verse to the instigator of our transgression are complicated 
 and sad. 
 
 Let us then fall down in adoration before that great Being 
 who begins the record of his benevolence in the sorrowful 
 words of our text, that the Lord God degraded the serpent 
 and cursed the ground and afflicted the woman and sur- 
 rounded the man with thorns and thistles ; but our text, 
 though a bitter seed, contains the germ of a rich fruit, for 
 it predicts the coming of him who in " the fulness of the 
 time" was to be " born of a woman" ^ and was to perform 
 so wonderful a work that God closes the record not as he 
 begins it, but with the description of the upper paradise which 
 has ' no need of the sun, neither of the moon to sliine in it, 
 for the glory of God doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the 
 light thereof. And the nations of them which are saved 
 shall walk in the light of it, and the kings of the earth, shall 
 bring their glory and lionor into it.'^ " And there shall be 
 no more curse [like that of our text] , but the throne of God 
 and of the Lamb shall be in it ; and his servants shall serve 
 him." ^ " And God sliall wipe away all tears from their eyes ; 
 and there [in that new Paradise] shall be no more death, 
 neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more 
 pain ; for the former things are passed away." * Tlie very 
 Eden of which our text informs us, and out of which our 
 race was driven, the very place of it is unknown, but there 
 
 J Gal. iv 4. 2 Rev. xxi. 23, 24. 8 Rgy. xxii. 3. * Rev. xxi. 4. 
 
232 THE SYSTEM OP MORAL INFLUENCES 
 
 abidcth the new Eden, to which the throngs of the church are 
 pressing onward, and to which the ministry of the gospel are 
 pointing you forward. Thither let us all go and unite our- 
 selves with him who is the centre of the one system which he 
 hinds together in his omnipresent, all-comprehending love. 
 
 NOTE TO PAGE 210. 
 
 This ninth sermon proceeds on the supposition that the doctrine of 
 Adam's apostasy is true. According to this doctrine, the original 
 constitution of the human race was such as to render it certain that 
 if Adam sinned all the moral agents of the race (with one exception) 
 would be actual sinners, and to render it necessary that if he sinned 
 all the members of the race would suffer appropriate evil. Some 
 orthodox divines believe that the doctrine includes more than this ; 
 all believe that it includes as much as this. The doctrine is proved 
 by the text Gen. iii. 13-19, combined with Rom. v. 12-21, and with 
 parallel passages. Some of the lessons derived from the doctrine 
 are, that God hates all sin with an infinite abhorrence, and the fact 
 of this infinite abhorrence is expressed in his threatening of eternal 
 punishment. A belief in the entire trustworthiness of the Bible 
 regarding Adam's apostasy prepares us to believe in its entire trust- 
 worthiness regarding the penalty to be inflicted on the finally im- 
 penitent. The consequences of Adam's sin suggest the query : Why 
 did not infinite benevolence prevent him from sinning ? This is a 
 crucial inquiry ; and it suggests the truth that the mystery of all sin 
 lies not in the continuance of the sin, but in the commencement of 
 it. If we can answer the question : Why did God allow iniquity to 
 begin ? we can answer the question : Why will he allow it to remain ? 
 
 This sermon may be misunderstood unless it be remembered that 
 the design of it is not to prove, nor even to formally state, the doc- 
 trine of Adam's apostasy, but to explain a principle which underlies 
 the doctrine. The principle is, that we live in such a state of social 
 liability as causes the diffusion of evil from one person to another. 
 This principle must be admitted by men who deny, as well as by men 
 who believe, that ilie Bible is inspired. One great principle which 
 lies under the doctrine of the apostasy must be recognized as true 
 whether the doctrine itself be accepted or not. 
 
IN WHICH MEN ARE PLACED. 233 
 
 This doctrine is paralleled by another : The atoning death of 
 Christ is the ground on which salvation is provided for all men; 
 and if any man will exercise a holy faith in that death he will be 
 saved. This doctrine is intimated in the text of the ninth sermon, 
 but is distinctly stated in Rom. v. 12-21, and in the parallel passages. 
 " As through one trespass the judgment came unto all men to con- 
 demnation, even so through one act of righteousness the free gift 
 came unto all men to justification of life. For, as through the one 
 man's disobedience the many were made sinners, even so through 
 the obedience of the one shall the many be made righteous" (vs. 18, 
 19). The one deed of Adam is contrasted with the one deed of 
 Christ. The terms of the contrast explain each other. The " dis- 
 obedience " explains the " obedience." The obedience is further 
 explained by Phil. ii. 8, obedience " unto death " ; Rom. iii. 25, " a 
 propitiation through faith, by his blood " ; Rom. v. 9, " being now 
 justified by his blood"; Eph. ii. 13, "made nigh by the blood of 
 Christ " ; Col. i. 20 ; Heb. xii. 2, etc. The obedience is still further 
 explained by certain sacrifices under the old dispensation, and by 
 the Lord's supper under the new. This obedience of Christ in 
 laying down his life for men (John x. 17, 18), implies, and is insep- 
 arable from, the perfection of his preceding obedience. His death is 
 a symbol of all his antecedent sufferings, and cannot be separated 
 from them. As his sacrifice on the cross was prefigured by the 
 ancient sacrifices, as the first Adam was the type of the second Adam 
 (Rom. V. 14), as the atoning death was not only predicted from the 
 beginning, but is to be commemorated until the end, and as it is the 
 brightest manifestation of the divine attributes, so it is the central 
 fact in theology. All this is implied in the ninth sermon. 
 
 Still, the reader will misapprehend the sermon unless he remember 
 that it was designed not to prove, nor even to formally state, the 
 doctrine of the atonement, but to explain a certain principle which 
 lies underneath the doctrine. The principle is, that good as well as 
 evil is disseminated from one person to another. All men who ex- 
 amine the constitution of the world recognize this principle. If 
 they repudiate the doctrine of the atonement, they acknowledge one 
 of the laws on which the doctrine is founded. The glory of the 
 gospel is that the good flowing from the act of the second Adam is 
 greater than is the evil flowing from the act of the first Adam (Rom. 
 V. 15-21 ; Gen. iii. 15). 
 
X. 
 
 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR/ 
 
 MATTHEW XI. 6. 
 
 THE BLIITD RECEIVE THEIR BIGHT, AND THE LAME WALK ; THE LEPERS ARK CLEAKSKD, 
 AND THE DEAF HEAR; THE DEAD ARE RAISED UP, AND THE POOR HAVE THB 
 GOSPEL PREACHED TO THEM. 
 
 These words have a use in the department of rhetoric. 
 They intimate that a grand idea seeks to express itself in 
 rhythmical language. They form a noticeable specimen of 
 the rhetorical climax. They are arranged in three couplets, 
 — the second being more attractive than the first, and the 
 third more attractive than the second. The climax appears 
 in the meaning as well as the sound of the words. The first 
 couplet lays two miracles before us : the blind receive their 
 sight, and the lame walk ; the second couplet lays two mir- 
 acles before us : the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear. 
 Now deafness was regarded among many Orientals as more 
 afflictive and more incurable than almost any other dis- 
 ability ; and a leprous man was more loathsome tlian any 
 other ; hence the two miracles in the second couplet were 
 more striking than the two in the first ; but the most decisive 
 of all miracles, distancing all others, is reserved for the third 
 couplet: "TAe dead are raised up, and the poor have the 
 gospel preached to them." 
 
 This last clause does not indeed bring a miracle into view, 
 
 1 A Sermon preached at Oberlin, Ohio, on the Sabbath before the College 
 Commencement in 18G7 ; also at Newton Centre, Mass., on the day before tho 
 Anniversary of the Theological Institution in 1867. 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOE. 235 
 
 but it brings something more momentous. It introduces a 
 moral as well as intellectual climax. It leads us to remark 
 that our text has a use in doctrinal theology as well as in 
 rhetoric. It reminds us that the internal evidence in favor 
 of the gospel is more luminous than the external. The his- 
 tory of the text shows that Jesus valued the inward proof of 
 his gospel more than the outward. 
 
 This is the history. John the Baptist was of the same age 
 with his cousin the Messiah, but was unlike him in tempera- 
 ment. When Jesus was introduced into the Messianic office, 
 John performed the inaugurating ceremony. But soon after- 
 ward the Baptist was imprisoned, probably in the fortress of 
 Machaerus. Some suppose that while imprisoned in the dun- 
 geon he was in the dark with regard to the reality of Christ's 
 Messiahship. Others think that he was disappointed by the 
 method in which his cousin administered the new office. Can 
 it be that the true Messiah will come eating and drinking ? 
 If John himself were not in the dark on this question, some 
 of his disciples may have been. At any rate there was some- 
 thing which moved the Baptist to send two of his disciples 
 with the query, 'Art thou the real Messiah, or are we to look 
 for a man different from thee ? ' Shall Jesus condescend 
 to answer such a question directly ? He gives an indirect 
 answer which, when analyzed, may be thus expressed : ' Go, 
 tell John what things ye have seen me do ; what things ye 
 have heard me say. Ye have seen me perform five kinds 
 of miracles, — the blind receive their sight ; the lame walk ; 
 the lepers are cleansed ; the deaf hear ; the dead are raised 
 up.^ Here you have the outward proof of my Messiahship. 
 You have heard one thing greater than these miracles, — I 
 name it after them ; I place it higher than I place the raising 
 of the dead ; I put it on the top of the ascending series ; it is 
 the inward, the moral argument in my favor. I will divide 
 
 1 The fact that these cases were predicted by the prophets is to be included in 
 their miraculous character. See Isa. xxix. 18, 19; xxxv. 5, 6 ; Ixi. 1, 2, et al. 
 The divine mission of Christ is proved by his fulfilling the prophecies respecting 
 him. 
 
236 THE GOSPEL PEEACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 it into three branches ; first, a great system of doctrines is 
 made known ; secondly, it is made known in an excellent 
 way ; thirdly, it is made known to a peculiar class of men. 
 The matter of my instruction, that is the first inward sign ; 
 the manner of my instruction, that is the second inward sign ; 
 the standing of the men who receive my instruction, that is 
 the third inward sign of my embassy. Go, explain to John 
 these three signs ; and then let him draw his own inference 
 whether I am he that should come, or whether a different 
 man from me must be looked for.' 
 
 Following this threefold division, the aim of the present 
 discourse is to consider, first. What is made known by the 
 Messiah through his ministers ; secondly, How it is made 
 known, and thirdly, To whom it is made known. 
 
 I. What is made known ? The general answer is, The 
 gospel. But what is the gospel ? What are its character- 
 istics making it a sign that Christ is the real Messiah ? The 
 gospel is the truth unmingled. Other systems contain some 
 truth combined with some error ; but this system is the truth 
 without any error. It is not only pure, it is also novel, truth ; 
 it is a series of news, good news, glad news ; and it thus 
 quickens the pulse of men wearied with the monotony of 
 mere nature. Science teaches the immortality of the soul ; 
 but the gospel brings life and immortality to light. Nature 
 teaches that the evil-doer will be punished ; the gospel teaches 
 that if he repent he shall be saved. It is a system of truth 
 not only unmingled and original, but also comprehensive. 
 It reveals the paternal character of God, and also the mean- 
 ness of sin ; for this, like invisible ink by the fire, is brought 
 out by the light of the cross. The cross makes darkness 
 visible. The gospel tells us of salvation, and thus it implies 
 punishment, from which the believer may be saved. The 
 rainbow implies the dark cloud which it spans. The gospel 
 reveals the atonement of Christ, and this comprehends tho 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 237 
 
 justice of God as well as his mercy, the threatenings of the 
 law as well as the promises of grace. All that philosophy 
 teaches of the majesty of the Father, all that inspiration 
 teaches of the beauties in the character of the Son, all that 
 experience and the Bible teach of the purifying influence of 
 the Holy Ghost, are involved in the atoning work of Christ. 
 The gospel is not only unmingled and novel and comprehen- 
 sive truth, it is also truth instinct with power. It is power- 
 ful because it is pure, because it is new and startling, because 
 it is comprehensive ; and still further, because it is the instru- 
 ment which the Holy Spirit employs in the renovation of the 
 soul. It is the hammer which he uses in breaking the rock. 
 It [<' the fire which he applies in melting the ice. It is the 
 sword which he wields in piercing the otherwise impenetra- 
 ble heart. It is the glorious gospel of the blessed God. It 
 is the wisdom of God and the power of God unto salvation. 
 
 ' Art thou he that should come, then, or do we look for 
 another ? ' — 'Go and tell John that you have heard this pro- 
 found system of truth which I name the gospel ; and let him 
 infer for himself that the very nature of the message is an 
 internal argument for the divine authority of the messenger.' 
 
 II. " What is made known ? " — that was the first question. 
 The gospel, — that is the answer. We come then to our 
 second question : How is the gospel made known ? The 
 answer is, It is preached. 
 
 Aristotle has moved the world by writing treatises on 
 science. He made black marks upon white parchment, and 
 these noiseless letters affected the nerves of the eye, sug- 
 gested ethereal ideas to the reader, and stirred the intellect 
 of the race to its depths. It is a mysterious chain that con- 
 nects the most lofty generalizations of the mind with these 
 lines of ink on the papyrus. Those little marks and dots, 
 made more than two thousand years ago in Athens, were to 
 mould the character of schoolmen then unborn, to shape the 
 thinking of universities on islands and continents then un- 
 
238 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 known. Lord Bacon has compared written or printed words, 
 carrying down knowledge from century to century, with ships 
 at sea, carrying merchandise from land to land. This mar- 
 vellous influence of written words is included in the preach- 
 ing of the gospel. The good tidings are borne " through the 
 vast seas of time " by means of scripture, — the Scripture ; 
 of books, the Book, the Bible. 
 
 But this is not the more distinctive method in which the 
 gospel is proclaimed. The more peculiar idea of preaching 
 the glad truth is that of heralding it by the living voice. 
 "When orally announced, the truth is addressed to the organ 
 of vision ; the hearer sees the truth not written on paper, 
 but imprinted on the lips of the speaker, beaming forth from 
 his eye, glowing on his cheek, held open on the palm of his 
 hand, pointed at by the indicative finger, pictured on the 
 clenched fist, shining on the extended arm, represented on 
 the shoulder, on the elbow, on the wrist, made visible in the 
 attitude of the head, the chest, the feet, the whole body. 
 Mysteriously is one sentiment expressed by a statue of mar- 
 ble ; but here it is the system of living truths emblazoned on 
 the living statue, the great material work of the infinite 
 Sculptor. Faith comes by seeing. 
 
 But when the gospel is preached in this distinctive method 
 of oral address, it appeals not to the eye merely, but to another 
 sense which is an interpreter for the eye, and superadds a 
 power of its own. Faith cometh by hearing. The gestures 
 of the preacher are what the deaf man hears. The tones of 
 the preacher are what the blind man sees. There are modu- 
 lations of the voice that suggest ideas not made visible in 
 any written alphabet. " My eyes always moisten," says one, 
 "when I see the word tear'' What a stream of melting 
 thoughts flows through the mind at the sight of that wonder- 
 ful monosyllable. Wlien you meet a stranger in the lane of 
 a city, and behold a tear glistening in his eye, what a long 
 history is recited to you in an instant ! That tear is a 
 volume, a little globe of truth. When Jesus saw the men 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 239 
 
 and "Women weeping around the tomb, Jesus wept. And 
 when John Howe stood in the pulpit, his eye reddened, his 
 check furrowed by these warm symbols of grief, and when 
 with a tremulous voice he spoke of the Redeemer's tears over 
 lost souls, men caught a new meaning in that sweet word, 
 Redeemer; felt a new awe at the hearing of that solemn 
 word, souls ; gained a new impression of that doleful word, 
 lost ; and their own eyes were suffused at the thought of 
 tears springing from the Redeemer as he wept on the Mount 
 of Olives over the city compact together of lost souls. I 
 have heard of a broken-hearted disciple who came with a 
 trembling step into the house of prayer and listened to the 
 words of our hymn : 
 
 " Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord ! 
 Whose hope, still hovering round thy word. 
 Would light on some sweet promise there." 
 
 This beautiful image, how often had he seen it before, as an 
 image ; but now, in the sanctuary, as for the first time, he 
 beholds the tree living, blooming, fruit-bearing ; and his hope, 
 like a songster hovering over and around the green leaves, at 
 length alights on a healing bough, and begins to sing of the 
 rest that remaineth for the people of God. 
 
 There are chords of the heart responsive to every note of 
 the organ, and a true preacher is like one who plays skil- 
 fully on an instrument, and touches forcibly or gently the 
 one key which calls forth the mysterious sound stirring the 
 sympathies of men who know not why nor how they are 
 moved. The sympathies of men, — they are touched myste- 
 riously like the strings of an ^olian harp by one breath of 
 air. It moves among the trembling chords, and awakens 
 such melodies as would have slumbered for the want of that 
 one breath of air. How subtile, how evanescent, is that one 
 breath of air ; but when Whiteficld employed it in uttering 
 the interjection ! his auditors hung their heads and sobbed 
 aloud. They would have read that solitary letter with an 
 undimmed eye, but when he pronounced it, the letter became 
 
240 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 a circle of rounded thought, all alive with secret suggestions, 
 compressing into itself inexplicable symbols of emotion, wak- 
 ing up the nameless and dehcate sympathies which, but for 
 that one breath, had slept, never perhaps to be roused. The 
 traveller on some of the Alps in winter is forbidden to utter 
 a word, lest he should cause undulations of the atmosphere 
 that would precipitate the rocks already loosened so as to be 
 just ready for their fall ; and those rocks when once started 
 in their downward course by that one word, take with them 
 other rocks and trees, and form an avalanche, augmenting as 
 it rushes down, and desolating the fields and villages of the 
 plain. The one word " Fire," pronounced in a certain tone, 
 agitates a city at dead of night. The one call " To arms " 
 rouses the whole battalion of soldiers sleeping in their 
 guarded tents. The gospel has many a monosyllable which 
 when uttered from the pulpit, — no sound of cannon has so 
 quickened the soul to activity. One word, — when Mr. Sum- 
 merfield repeated the text, " And the Spirit and the bride 
 say. Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let 
 him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take 
 the water of life freely" ; that word come, was so modulated 
 as to be resonant with the love of the Redeemer ; and the 
 accompanying smile of the lip was a picture of the grace of 
 heaven ; and the fixed earnestness of the eye was itself a 
 divine entreaty, and the hearers felt that the heavens were 
 opened on a sudden, and the voice of God himself was pro- 
 claiming for the first time : ' Whosoever will, let him come* 
 " I never knew the meaning of the Lord's prayer, until I 
 heard it recited by an elocutionist in London," — so said 
 an English Bishop ; and a New England pastor remarked, 
 " I never knew the meaning of the phrase, ' Thy kingdom 
 come,' until I heard it uttered at the May Anniversaries in 
 Boston." 1 
 
 1 When Dr. Spencer II. Cone was a member of Princeton College, and about 
 fourteen years of age, his first declamation was heard by the President, who 
 said : " Young man, your voice will bo your fortune." When about twenty 
 years old he became an actor in the theatre, and when about thirty he became a 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 241 
 
 But in the preaching of the gospel, there is something 
 more than an appeal to the eye and to the ear, there is also 
 an appeal to the sympathies of those who sit together seeing 
 and hearing. One man has an emotion because he suspects 
 that another has it. He has a still deeper emotion when 
 he suspects that many others have it ; but when he knows 
 that they have it, when he sees that they have it, when he 
 feels that they have it, he has a still intenser fellow-feeling 
 with them. He is affected because they are affected. They 
 sit close to him, and cannot stir without moving him. 
 You may relate an incident to one individual ; the sound 
 of your voice touches the strings of his heart. Let a few 
 more individuals join themselves to that one, and the 
 same rehearsal will be doubly exciting. Relate the incident 
 to a crowd, especially when, in the words of Simon Peter, 
 " the multitude throng thee and press thee," and the same 
 recital will have more than a reduplicated influence. This 
 influence is like that avalanche just described which gathers 
 volume as it falls. One hearer looks at those who sit near 
 him, and his eyes flash forth a sentiment which is at once 
 darted back, and gains a new brightness by being reflected. 
 An impressive word is uttered ; there is a rustling movement 
 in one pew which is heard in another pew, attracts new 
 attention to that impressive word, and heightens, while it 
 
 preacher of the gospel. Both on the stage and in the pulpit his voice was a 
 treasure to him. As a preacher he won attention by his " utterance, even, dis- 
 tinct, firm, and strong, and yet with sweetly varied modulation, and with ap])ro- 
 priate and expressive emphasis." The matter of his discourses was uncommonly 
 excellent, the manner of delivering them was studiously appropriate. Not more 
 than a year after he began to preach he was heard by Rev. Dr. Milnor who 
 remarked : " I have often heard him before, from a box-seat, a dollar each time ; 
 but this was worth more than they all, yet without money and without price." 
 When a friend of Dr. Cone, Dr. Stephen Gano, pastor of the First Baptist 
 Church in Providence, Rhode Island, was too far advanced in life to utter any 
 striking thoughts in the pulpit, I often heard him preach ; and although I can- 
 not remember a single idea advanced by him, I well remember the sweet and 
 majestic tones of his voice, and after the lapse of sixty years they recall the dis- 
 tinctive doctrines of the gospel. The echoes of his voice seem inappropriate to 
 any other thoughts than those of divine justice and grace. 
 
242 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 transmits, the influence of it. A few auditors sit spell-bound 
 in the hearing of a phrase ; their very stillness is listened to 
 in the pews around them ; in one minute the voice of this 
 stillness fills the house, and adds intensity to the first effect 
 of the utterance. There is I know not what to call it, if it 
 be not a kind of magnetism in the crowd, and one individual 
 conducts to his neighbor the influence which is quickened 
 into a new force as it passes into a new sphere. 
 
 'If the lives of the multitude here present were sifted, 
 should we find among them ten righteous men ? Should we 
 find a single righteous man ? ' ^ When Massillon uttered the 
 substance of these words, Voltaire says that "the whole 
 assemljly started up from their seats, and interrupted the 
 preacher l^y murmurs of surprise." Those words were like 
 a spark of fire falling into a magazine of powder ; and every 
 grain added its own heat to the grains which were ignited by 
 each other as well as by the fire that fell first among them. 
 When the auditors of Massillon sprang from their seats and 
 bowed as he uttered the words, " God only is great," they 
 were not thus inspired by that phrase alone, but by their 
 union with each other, by the day, the hour, the scene. The 
 fountains of feeling were just ready to overflow ; there was 
 needed only one impulse of one word, and they would over- 
 
 1 This sentence of Massillon is given in various forms by the various reporters 
 of it, and the various editions of his works. The following is Voltaire's report 
 of the sentence : " I imagine this present hour to be the last for us all ; that the 
 heavens are going to open over our heads, that time is past, and that eternity 
 begins, that Jesus Christ is going to a])pear to judge us according to our works, 
 and that we are all here to await from him the sentence of life or death eternal. 
 I ask you, struck with terror like you, not separating my lot from yours, and 
 putting myself in the same position in which we are all to appear one day before 
 God our Judge, — if Jesus Christ, I say, should appear at this moment, to make 
 the awful separation of the righteous and the sinners, think you that the greater 
 number would be saved 1 Think you that the number of the righteous would 
 be at least equal to that of the sinners ? Think you that if he should now make 
 an examination of the works of the great number that are in this church, he 
 would find only righteous persons among us 1 Would he find a single one? " 
 — Instead of the (juestion : "Think you that the greater number would be 
 saved ? " some editions have the words : " Think you that the greater number 
 would pass to his right hand ? " 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 243 
 
 flow each into every other, — and the stream widens as it 
 moves on. Jeremy Taylor's illustration applies here : When 
 a ship is alone riding out a storm at sea, it is agitated by a 
 wave ; but when a whole fleet of ships are together in the 
 storm, every one of them is shaken by the same wave, and 
 also by the other ships that dash against it. 
 
 The author of a celebrated volume of sermons recom- 
 mends in his preface that the sermons be recited aloud in 
 the family, and adds : " As a general rule, read aloud when 
 alone.) remembering that impressions made at once on the eye 
 and ear reach the heart with double force." But if one man 
 when he reads alone the sermon of another man can aug- 
 ment the power of it by reading it aloud, how much more 
 can he augment the power of his own sermon, which ought 
 to affect him more than that of another man, when he not 
 merely reads it aloud, but speaks it, not alone, not in the 
 family circle, but amid all the associations of the Sabbath 
 day, and all the reminiscences of the house of God, and all 
 the sympathies of men, women, and children ; the old mov- 
 ing the young, as the loadstone moves the needle ; the young 
 exciting the old, as one pole of the magnet communicates 
 with the other ; and a thousand invisible influences all flow- 
 ing into the influence of the speaker who, like the Psalmist, 
 can say : "I have not concealed thy truth from the great 
 congregation ; I have preached righteousness in the great 
 congregation." 
 
 Many a sermon has been spoiled by being printed ; the 
 thrilling word seems to have been left out ; the melting sen- 
 tence seems to have been corrected into coldness and stiffness ; 
 and all this is true even when the phrases remain precisely 
 as they were uttered ; for their life was in the tremulous 
 tones that accompanied them; and that life is hushed. The 
 soul of the words was in those inflections which, like the 
 present moment, were gone as soon as they first came. The 
 Lord was in the still small voice. You can never publish the 
 beaming of the eye. You can never print the sudden flush 
 
244 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 of the face. It is the suddenness of it that starts the sympa- 
 thies of the beholders. The speaker does not know why, the 
 hearer does not know how ; but there is the fact : a congre- 
 gation sitting together on the Lord's day, in the Lord's house, 
 have emotions and express emotions which are like the 
 accompaniment of a band of music to the voice of the solo 
 singer ; you do not catch the harmony of the tune unless 
 in the unison of all its parts made distinct and complete by 
 instruments, each one giving its own certain sound.^ 
 
 Men who claim to be more philosophical than their pastors 
 excuse themselves from attending the sanctuary by the plea : 
 We will remain at home, and read better sermons than we 
 can hear. But these men lose the nameless evanescent influ- 
 ences which may sometimes make a poor sermon as heard 
 better than a good one as read. They lose the indefinable, 
 varying appliances of the voice uttering the right word at 
 the right season, in the right way. A sentiment uttered at 
 the appropriate moment has a force which it can have at no 
 other moment. A man does not see, in the full sense of see- 
 ing, unless he uses other organs besides the eye. "When he 
 looks at a fabric, and has a doubt with regard to its visible 
 texture, he touches it, saying, " Let me see." When he looks 
 at a species of fruit, and has a doubt with regard to its quality 
 as exhibited to the eye, he tastes it, saying, " Let me see." 
 In like manner, when we doubt whether a man be a former 
 associate of ours we listen for his voice, and hearing it, we 
 exclaim, " Yes, we see ; he is our old friend." Out of the 
 sanctuary I have heard of God with the hearing of the ear ; 
 but in the sanctuary, when the Holy Ghost is present, I hear 
 
 1 The history of secular eloquence abounds with instances in which words 
 have lost their power when they ceased to be intertwined with the sympathies 
 of an audience. Valerius Maximus says of the Athenian orator: "A great 
 part of Demosthenes is wanting:, for it must be heard, not read." Quintilian 
 says of Hortensius : " There was something in him which strangely pleased when 
 he spoke which those who perused his orations could not find." The younger 
 Pitt remarked that he could never conjecture from reading his father's speeches 
 where their eloquence lay hidden. 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 245 
 
 of him "with more than the hearing of the ear ; my whole 
 soul is an eye, and mine eye seeth him ; wherefore I abhor 
 myself and repent in dust and ashes. 
 
 At this stage, our argument is the following : Plato, Aris- 
 totle, and other great masters of the Academy and Lyceum 
 did not recommend the oral proclamation of truth as the 
 prominent method of enforcing the truth ; the Galilean who 
 had never been taught in the Academy and Lyceum did recom- 
 mend this method as the prime one. He could not have 
 devised such a mode of proclaiming such truth unless he had 
 been a messenger from God. But we may go beyond this 
 stage, and say ; the preaching of the gospel is a proof of the 
 very existence of God. In his discourse on Natural Theology, 
 Lord Brougham adduces the power of extemporaneous elo- 
 quence as an argument for theism. " A practised orator," 
 he says, " will declaim in measured and in various periods, 
 will weave his discourse into one texture, form parenthesis 
 witliin parenthesis, excite the passions, or move to laughter, 
 take a turn in his discourse from an accidental interruption 
 — making it the topic of his rhetoric for live minutes to come, 
 and pursuing in like manner the new illustrations to which 
 it gives rise, mould his diction with a view to attain or to 
 shun an epigrammatic point or an alliteration or a discord, 
 and all this with so much assured reliance on his own powers, 
 and with such perfect ease to himself, that he shall even plan 
 the next sentence while he is pronouncing off-hand the one 
 he is engaged with, adapting each to the other, and shall 
 look forward to the topic which is to follow, and fit in the 
 close of the one he is handling to be its introducer." ^ Such 
 an extemporaneous power, he reasons, must be the contri- 
 vance of a Deity. Wlien, now, we superadd the fact, that a 
 preacher by a mere act of will moves a few muscles of his 
 vocal organs and thus causes undulations of the air reaching 
 the auditory nerves of his congregation, and this slight effect 
 
 1 Brougham's Discourse of Natural Theology (pp. 53,54), prefixed to Paler's 
 Natural Theology. London cd., Charles GriflBn and Company. 
 
246 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 on these minute fibres suggests to the minds of the congrega- 
 tion such thoughts as an archangel desires to look into, and 
 rouses such emotions as are kindred with those of God him- 
 seK; that before he has closed one sentence three or five 
 hundred hearers anticipate the meaning of it, and are moved 
 by it as by an electric impulse ; that one wave of tlie 
 preacher's hand so affects the retina of the hearer's eye as to 
 awaken an ecstasy in three or five hundred men ; they liav- 
 ing the same tliought with him at the same time ; they moved 
 by the same feeling with him at the same time ; that the 
 almost invisible nerves of his forehead will make a slight 
 movement rousing his auditors to loftier ideas than he may 
 have ever grasped, and inflaming them with more ardent 
 emotions than he himself may have ever felt ; so that his 
 thoughts before they are his own are suggested to his hearers ; 
 and greater thoughts than ever were his own are yet intima- 
 ted in his countenance as it struggles with pent-up emotion 
 (for a sermon of John Newton may have suggested to William 
 Cowper many an ethereal sentiment that never entered the 
 mind or heart of that plain minister speaking to that exquisite 
 poet) ; when we superadd the wondrous fact that the vibra- 
 tions of the atmosphere caused by the quivering larynx of 
 the preacher, and that the rays of light reflected from his 
 beaming countenance are often attended by the regeneration 
 of those who hear and see him, and while he is yet speaking 
 they are created anew for God and for heaven, — the Holy 
 Ghost himself dwelling in his truth; we stand convinced. 
 This is no human work ; this is of the Lord's doing and it is 
 marvellous in our eyes. It is God who hath devised the 
 complex apparatus of speech. It is God who hath adjusted 
 all tlie springs of the soul to all the wheels of the body. The 
 spirit of the Lord is in those wheels. The truth of God ! " I 
 am the truth," says God incarnate. 
 
 ' Art thou he that should come, then, or do we look for 
 another ? ' That is the question. ' Go and tell John,' is the 
 answer, ' that many a man dead in trespasses and sins, twice 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 247 
 
 dead, comes forth from his spiritual grave at the sound of 
 the preacher's voice ; and let John infer for himself that the 
 very plan of orally preaching the gospel is a sign that God 
 has interposed in behalf of the gospel.' 
 
 III. Our first question was : What is proclaimed ? Our 
 answer : The gospel. Our second question was : How is the 
 gospel proclaimed ? Our answer : It is proclaimed distinc- 
 tively by the living voice. Our third question is : To whom 
 is the gospel preached ? Our answer : To the poor. What 
 are the reasons for preaching the gospel to the poor ? 
 
 1. One reason is this : The controlling force of the com- 
 munity will come sooner or later from those who are now 
 poor, and if this force move upward the whole commu- 
 nity will be moved upward. A few rich men may wield a 
 greater power than the same number of poor men, but the 
 poor are so much more numerous than the rich, and have 
 withal so much more of that hardiness which comes from 
 hardness, that in the main, and in the long sweep of time, 
 the guiding influence of the world moves upward from the 
 humble class to the high more than downward from the 
 high to the humble. Men lay the axe at the root of a tree, 
 when they would fell it, and do not aim their first blow at its 
 topmost boughs ; and when they would quicken its growth, 
 they do not manipulate its branches before they enrich the 
 soil from which it springs. One scientific method of ventila- 
 ting, warming, and cooling a house illustrates the scientific 
 method of purifying and regulating a community. The fresh 
 atmosphere is introduced not from the roof, nor from the 
 windows, but from the basement ; it is there warmed in the 
 winter by steam, and cooled in the summer by ice ; through 
 a thousand apertures in the floors it is then admitted into 
 the rooms above ; there it does not remain stagnant but con- 
 tinues to rise, giving health to the lungs and purity to the 
 voices of those who inhale it ; the air of the attic is rarefied 
 by liot pipes so as to accelerate the ascent of the currents 
 
248 TUE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 from the basement chambers ; and then out of the attic these 
 currents are discharged to mingle again with the atmosphere 
 of the skies. 
 
 So in the main do the purifying inspirations of the spiritual 
 heavens pass through the hearts of the lower circles, and 
 rise, bringing with them temperance and frugality and indus- 
 try and fortitude into the higher circles. As the preacher's 
 voice ascends so that he can be heard best in the gallery, in 
 a like way his influence goes upward through the cottage into 
 the palace. 
 
 The statistics of our cities prove that the great merchants 
 of the present day are not, in the main, sons of affluent 
 parents, and the men who a half-century ago were the rich 
 traders of those cities have left descendants who are not 
 affluent now. Civilians who are at present on the pinnacle 
 of their profession rose up from families which a half-century 
 ago were in the vale of obscurity ; and civilians who a half 
 century ago were in the ascendant have left families who are 
 now in the walks of the lowly. The habit of plain living and 
 persistent labor tends to raise the poor man above his struggle 
 for the comforts of life, and to give him the means of a wider 
 influence than he could exert while absorbed in that struggle. 
 According to a tendency of human nature his descendants of 
 the first or second generation may preserve his frugal and 
 laborious habit, but those of a succeeding generation relax 
 it, and by their luxurious life lose their ancestral force of 
 character, and at leiigth fall into that condition from which 
 their ancestor rose, and from which perhaps their children's 
 children will begin to rise and resume their ancestral influ- 
 ence. This is the tendency. It is often counteracted ; but 
 notwithstanding all the exceptions the general fact is that 
 society rolls around like a wheel, and the shafts that are 
 now down will be soon up, and it is the lower shaft that 
 strikes upon the water and makes the steam-ship move at its 
 bidding. 
 
 William Gifford the shoemaker and William Cobbett the 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 249 
 
 ploughboy illustrate the influence of early hardship in im~ 
 parting vigor to the man who overcomes it. Some of the 
 most renowned scientists, like Alexander Wilson the weaver 
 and Richard Arkwright the barber pedler have illustrated the 
 same. James Ferguson the astronomer was the son of parents 
 so indigent that they could not give him a school education of 
 more than three months, but while employed by a farmer in 
 tending flocks of sheep at night he studied the stars, and 
 became self-taught in many principles of his favorite science. 
 Michael Faraday received but little education in his boyhood, 
 was early apprenticed to a bookbinder, and while he found 
 that "hard is the path from poverty to renown," yet as he 
 worked his way along that path he fortified the unshrinking 
 spirit which would perhaps have been abated by wealth. 
 George Stephenson, the founder of the railway system of 
 Great Britain, was when nine years old employed at twopence 
 a day in looking after the cows of a neighbor, and when 
 eighteen years old had not learned the letters of the alphabet, 
 and when twenty-four years old was still working in a colliery, 
 where " in his leisure hours he studied mechanics and engineer- 
 ing, mended clocks and shoes, cut out clothes for the miners," 
 and in a large variety of ways cultivated and augmented his 
 native energy. 
 
 Some of the most fascinating poets of the world have 
 illustrated the story that the nightingale sings his sweetest 
 song when his breast presses against a thorn. Dryden felt 
 that he had little reason to be grateful for having been born 
 an Englishman ; for he deemed it to be quite enough for one 
 century that it neglected a Cowley and saw a Butler starved 
 to death. Poets like Richard Bloomfield and the Ettrick 
 Shepherd owe their power over us in no small degree to the 
 fact that we sympathize with them in their early privations. 
 The British mind has been moulded in no small degree by the 
 bards who have sung to it ; and if some of them, like Savage 
 and Burns, had retained the frugal and industrious habits 
 which their poverty was adapted to cherish, how much brighter 
 
250 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 would have been their illustrations of the wisdom which pre- 
 scribes that the gospel be preached to the poor. 
 
 We need not go through the lengthened list of artists whose 
 studio became the keener delight to them because it was in 
 contrast with their early indigence. Giotto was a shepherd 
 boj, and the sheep which he tended were his first models, 
 and the earth on which he drew marks with his finger was 
 his first canvas. Many of the eminent artists have never 
 enjoyed the significant privilege given to Hogarth, whose 
 father was poor enough and intelligent enough to " put the 
 son in the way of earning his own livelihood." They have 
 earned their living without or against parental advice.^ 
 
 There are statesmen, too, whose boyhood was spent in 
 wrestling with penury, and thus acquiring that nerve and 
 fortitude which are indispensable for pressing through crowds. 
 It may be that Andrew Jackson, Zachary Taylor, Abraham 
 Lincoln, James A. Garfield would never have reached their 
 exalted oSice if their early indigence had not moved a sym- 
 pathizing people to raise them upward. 
 
 Theologians, also, have received an impulse from the nar- 
 rowness of their early homes to cultivate an intrepid spirit 
 which might have been subdued by the ease of living. Dr. 
 Samuel Lee, the renowned Orientalist, acquired the rudiments 
 of his education at a charity school, was apprenticed when 
 twelve years old to a carpenter, was led to study the Hebrew 
 language by his interest in a Hebrew Bible which he found 
 while working at his trade in a Jewish synagogue. Dr. John 
 Kitto, author of the Biblical Cyclopaedia, was indebted to 
 the poor-rates for his subsistence, and his first essays were 
 composed in a poor-house. 
 
 It is proverbial that multitudes of eminent pastors and 
 missionaries have risen like the dew of heaven from the 
 valley to the mountain tops, — and " how beautiful upon the 
 mountains." They have been less compliant with ephemeral 
 
 1 " My Lord, you want nothing but poverty to become a very excellent 
 painter," said Turner to a nobleman who was an amateur artist. 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 251 
 
 fashions, have been more resolute and independent thinkers, 
 have worked with more indomitable vigor than if they had 
 been trained amid the conventionalities of wealth. Dr. Carey 
 has been called the great reformer of India, and also an 
 apostate from the last. His coadjutor, Dr. Marshman, per- 
 formed an Herculean work in the Indian mission, and has 
 been called an apostate from the shuttle. It has been common 
 to sneer at the ministers who have thus emerged from the 
 factory and the workshop, and to look down upon them as 
 belonging to the lower classes. But we must remember that 
 often men in humble life have a robustness of understanding 
 and a soundness of moral principle raising them above the 
 majority of their race ; and if they are low, it is in the sense 
 of their being at the basis of society ; and " if the foundations 
 be destroyed, what can the righteous do ? " 
 
 2. There is another reason for preaching the gospel to the 
 poor : They are representatives of the majority of men. They 
 either are, or else they represent, the larger part of the race. 
 "What they want in the influence of single individuals, they 
 supply in the influence of numbers. The poor are those who 
 are in want. Some of them are in extreme want, and are 
 said to be in a state of indigence or penury. Some are poor 
 constantly, others occasionally ; some in the absolute sense, 
 others in a relative sense. An estate which leaves a king 
 poor would make a beggar rich. We are not said to be in 
 penury or indigence, or even in poverty, because we have no 
 wings or horns, for we have no need of them ; but there is 
 an important sense in which we may be classed among the 
 poor when we find it difficult to obtain the comforts of life, 
 when we are in want of that which we need for our relief from 
 hardship and painful struggle. In the spirit of our text we 
 are poor when we have a want of anything which is necessary 
 for making our homes tolerable or comfortable. Some men 
 are poor not for lack of money, but for lack of talent. They 
 have so little foresight and prudence that they cannot husband 
 
252 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 their gold and silver, and they go as poorly clad and fed as 
 if they were penniless ; they are " poor for fear of poverty." 
 Other men are termed poor not because they have a want of 
 intellect or funds, but because they have a want of health. 
 They dwell in ceiled houses, but they experience more diffi- 
 culty in making life tolerable than if they dwelt in a hovel 
 where the sword of a pulmonary consumption was not 
 hanging over them. Their tables are loaded with the most 
 costly viands, but a dinner of herbs would be to them a 
 feast if the neuralgia would cease to embitter their repasts. 
 There are other men who are blessed with healthy bodies 
 and imperial minds and princely fortunes, and yet are poor, 
 for they are bereaved. They are in want, they are in beg- 
 gary for friends. God has changed the countenance of the 
 husband, and sent him away ; God has closed the eyes of the 
 wife, and she careth for her loved ones no more ; God has 
 silenced the voice of the children, and the house is still. 
 Edmund Burke was a poor man when his son had bidden 
 him the last farewell. Quintilian found it hard to make 
 life bearable when his little boy slept in the tomb. And 
 even when the heir to a large estate is endued with brilliant 
 genius, and surrounded with smiling friends, and his cup of 
 physical health runneth over, he yet may be represented as 
 a poor man ; for he sees and feels that all earthly treasures 
 are ill fitted to satisfy the wants of a mind made for eternity. 
 In the garden of luxurious fruits he hungers for a better 
 refreshment ; at a table sparkling with cordials he thirsts 
 for a richer stimulus ; clothed in Russian sables, he shivers 
 in the cold of spiritual need, and longs for that robe of a 
 Saviour's righteousness inwrought with the gold which never 
 becomes dim. " I know," he cricth, " I am wretched and 
 miserable and poor and blind and naked." To this class 
 of suffering men is the gospel a word of consolation, and 
 to all these classes of men in want is the gospel preached, 
 because taken all together they make up the mass of the 
 community. 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 253 
 
 3. This thought suggests an additional reason why the gos- 
 pel is preached to the poor : They who experience a marked 
 difficulty in gaining the comforts of life are apt to feel their 
 need of the gospel. It is the tendency of wealth, whether it 
 be wealth of gold or of genius or of friends or of a physical 
 temperament or of satisfaction with terrestrial good, to with- 
 draw the affections from the Author of that good. The rich 
 love to receive their consolation in this world ; but when 
 bereft of sublunary joys they look for help above the stars. 
 The learned man proves the truth of the Bible by recondite 
 arguments ; the indigent man is drawn to it by his personal 
 sympathy with the tax-gatherers and the fishermen who first 
 proclaimed it. His physical necessities give him a witness 
 in himself that he is dependent on the carpenter and the son 
 of a carpenter who had not where to lay his head. Tischen- 
 dorf deciphers obscure manuscripts ; the godly peasant cannot 
 understand them, but he is compelled to rely on Providence 
 for his daily bread ; he is thus brought near to God ; he de- 
 tects the fitness of the gospel to relieve his trouble, and thus 
 his own heart becomes a manuscript written all over with 
 the finger of God. That was a simple saying of Izaak Walton : 
 " I will tell you, scholar, I have heard a great divine say that 
 God has two dwellings — one in heaven, and the other in a 
 meek and thankful heart." This was indeed a simple say- 
 ing, for Izaak Walton does not appear to have been thinking 
 that "thus saith the high and lofty One, that inhabiteth 
 eternity, whose name is holy : I dwell in the high and holy 
 place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit." 
 " God is that marvellous being to whom the only great thing 
 is himself ; a world is to him an atom, and an atom is to him 
 a world." Therefore he is revealed as the God who " hath 
 respect unto the poor." It is a sign of greatness, even in a 
 man, that he " condescend to things that are lowly." 
 
 4. Several other reasons for preaching the gospel to the 
 poor are comprehended in the general fact that this arrange- 
 
254 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 ment tends to equalize and bind together the differing classes 
 of society. The indigent are deprived of costly privileges 
 given to the rich. They are less able to purchase books and 
 other records of learned men, to frequent the schools of 
 science in their own and foreign lands, to spend their time 
 "without interruption in efforts for self-improvement. Their 
 merciful Father has provided a compensation for them in 
 sending to them the gospel, free as the water they drink and 
 the air they breathe. This plan of supplying the want of one 
 privilege by giving another, and sometimes a greater one, 
 distinguishes the government of Him whose " tender mercies 
 are over all his works." He adopts many expedients for 
 restoring the equilibrium of society. " Did not God choose 
 them that are poor as to the world to be rich in faith, and 
 heirs of the kingdom which he promised to them that love 
 him ? " So bountiful and wonderful are the gifts bestowed 
 on men whom we are inclined to pity, that we are led to 
 associate true virtue with their very names, and are apt to 
 think of indigent men when our Lord says : " Blessed are 
 the poor in spirit " ; " Blessed are the meek " ; " Blessed 
 are they that mourn," and "that hunger and thirst after 
 righteousness." 
 
 As in a certain sense and degree it is his plan to equalize 
 the privileges of men who in some respects are unequal, so 
 in a certain sense and degree it is his plan to cement together 
 the classes who are left unequal. The wise ones of the world 
 have proposed that rich men meet together by themselves, 
 and that poor men worship apart in their own poor house ; 
 but the spirit of the gospel endorses the plan that the rich 
 and the poor meet together, for the Lord is the Maker of them 
 all. The Christian minister infuses a kindly spirit through 
 a parish ; for he interweaves the sympathies of the affluent 
 with those of the indigent. Let the brother of low degree 
 rejoice in that he is exalted when he sits as a fellow-heir at 
 the same communion table with his rich townsman, and let 
 the rich man be glad in that he is made low when he kneels 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 255 
 
 with the poorest of the parish at the same altar, before the 
 same Majesty of the universe ; for the earnest spirit of the 
 poor man stimulates the rich to a more lively faith ; and the 
 courtly manners of the rich man smooth the furrowed brow 
 of even the pauper with the assurance of Christian brother- 
 hood. Robert Hall tells us of a celebrated poet and noble- 
 man who was in the habit of attending a prayer-meeting in 
 a country village with a few indigent countrymen. They 
 were accustomed to make way for him as he entered the 
 room, and to give him the highest seat. But he refused their 
 deferential regards. He chose to sit with them. He elec- 
 trified them with his touch, and they electrified him ; for 
 electricity passes out of objects and into objects that are in 
 contact. It is an honor to sit with the poor man, for he is 
 a representative of his Lord. It is an honor to commune at 
 the same table with the poor man, for his pressing needs are 
 emblems of the Man of Sorrows. It is an honor to preach 
 the gospel to the poor man, for his humble mien is a picture 
 of the lowly Master. That Master, exalted from his lowly 
 state on earth to the throne of final judgment, will say to 
 his faithful preachers : Inasmuch as ye ministered to the 
 hungry and the thirsty, and tli^ stranger and the imprisoned, 
 ye did it unto me. As the Most High has chosen to glorify 
 the church of the lowly by means of the Man who had not 
 where to lay his head, so it has been often imagined that he 
 has chosen to glorify this poor earth above the richer globes 
 of space by making this ignoble part of his universe the scene 
 of his brightest manifestations of grace. His general plan 
 is to ennoble the needy. 
 
 Here we perceive how logical was the argument contained, 
 but condensed, in our Redeemer's dialogue with the disciples 
 of the Baptist. How clearly he proved that he was the true 
 Messiah and his mission was divine. His reasoning is coiled 
 up in a single sentence, which may be unfolded in the fol- 
 lowing details : 
 
256 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 You know the plan of my Father. You see the plan of 
 my mission. You perceive that one is just like the other. 
 You may infer that the exact likeness between the two is 
 the result of my Father's wisdom. A merely human indi- 
 vidual could not have devised this plan. I ask you, What is 
 the plan of God ? You reply, with the Psalmist : " The Lord 
 openeth the eyes of the blind." That is true ; go and tell 
 John: "The blind see." I ask again: Wliat is the plan of 
 God ? You answer, with Isaiah : " When he cometh, the 
 ears of the deaf shall be unstopped." That is right ; go and 
 tell John : " The deaf hear." I repeat my question : What 
 is the plan of God ? You answer, with the prophet : " Wlien 
 he cometh, the lame man shall leap as a hart." That is the 
 fact; go and tell John: "The lame walk." Again I ask: 
 What is the divine plan ? You reply, with the Psalmist : 
 "Bless the Lord who healeth all thy diseases." You have 
 answered well ; go and tell John that even "the lepers are 
 cleansed." Once more I ask: Wliat is the plan of God? 
 Once more you reply, with the Psalmist : " It is he who 
 redeemeth thy life from destruction." You have answered 
 discreetly ; go and tell John : " The dead are raised up." 
 At last I put the question : Wliat is the great plan of God ? 
 At last you say, with the Psalmist : " Thou, God, hast 
 prepared of thy goodness for the poor." That is well said, 
 and I add the words of Isaiah, when he spake of me, " The 
 Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord hath anointed 
 me to preach good tidings to the meek ; he hath sent me 
 to bind up the broken-hearted, to comfort all that mourn." 
 The divine plan is sketched in the words, " Ho, every one 
 that tliirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no 
 money ; come ye, buy and eat, yea, come, buy wine and milk 
 without money and without price." Nothing can be more 
 exact. Tell John that you have beheld the feast of the gos- 
 pel, and have heard the commission given to the servants : 
 Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and 
 bring in hither the poor and the maimed and the halt and 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 257 
 
 the blind ; and yet there is room. Therefore go out into the 
 highways and hedges, and gather together " not many wise 
 men, not many noble, but the foolish things of the world, 
 and the weak things, and base things, and things which are 
 despised, and things which are not, to bring to nought things 
 that are." 
 
 A great and practical thought lying at the basis of this 
 discourse is, that the distinctive work in which a minister of 
 the gospel becomes an almoner to the poor is the work of 
 preaching the doctrines of the gospel. All history proves 
 that he is an almoner to the poor. While he has been out of 
 sight he has been moving the wheels that propel the ma- 
 chinery of social beneficence. Robert Hall says : " You 
 might have traversed the Roman empire in the zenith of its 
 power, from the Euphrates to the Atlantic, without meeting 
 with a single charitable asylum for the sick. Monuments of 
 pride, of ambition, of vindictive wrath were to be found in 
 abundance, but not one legible record of commiseration 'for 
 the poor. It was reserved for the religion whose basis is 
 humility and whose element is devotion to proclaim with 
 authority : ' Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain 
 mercy.' " ^ When our Redeemer was on earth with the pul)- 
 licans and tax-gatherers, when his apostles were educating 
 the humbler classes, when the successors of the twelve 
 apostles had laid the foundations for the beneficent endow- 
 ments of the world, their work was scarcely observed by even 
 the most far-sighted of the Roman philosophers, statesmen, 
 or historians. It was a spiritual work. The grain of mustard- 
 seed was planted deep under ground. The great eleemosy- 
 nary institutions of society were started by the Sermon on 
 the Mount, which did not mention one of them. That ser- 
 mon is the basis of the gospel. It is our directory for the 
 preaching of the evangelical system. 
 
 1 The Works of the Rev. Robert Hall, A.M., Vol. ii. pp. 487, 488 (American 
 edition, 1833). 
 
258 THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 
 
 In preaching the gospel we must address the intellect and 
 the conscience in order to reach the heart. We must lay 
 hold of the principles which lie imbedded in the very nature 
 of duty. We must not only repeat the promises of God, but 
 we must also unfold his character ; for apart from the divine 
 character there is no gospel. In unfolding the character 
 of God we must explain his law ; for his law is the trans- 
 script of his perfections, and apart from the law as interpreted 
 by Christ the gospel has no meaning. But we cannot unfold 
 the law of God without proclaiming the sinfulness of men, 
 and we cannot duly proclaim the sinfulness of men without 
 warning them of their danger ; and since the atonement has 
 been made, we cannot properly warn men of their danger 
 without exhibiting to them the great doctrine of the atone- 
 ment. This doctrine appeases the spiritual hunger and 
 quenches the spiritual thirst, compared with which all physical 
 hunger and physical thirst are unworthy of notice. A loving 
 confidence in the atoning work of Christ relieves men from 
 that degree of poverty which is called indigence and penury ; 
 from that kind of indigence and penury compared with which 
 all physical want is a mere nothing. This faith involves a 
 supreme love to God, and we cannot love him without also lov- 
 ing the men for whose spiritual poverty he who was once rich 
 became poor. It involves a love to his law, and we cannot 
 obey his commands unless we love the poorest of our fellow- 
 men as we love ourselves, and we cannot breathe forth this 
 affection unless we labor for the fulfilment of the promise 
 that the " meek shall inherit the earth, and delight themselves 
 in tlie abundance of peace." The best and most enduring 
 charities to the poor are the fruits of Christian love, and 
 this love has its roots in the gospel. He who rightly preaches 
 this gospel is in heart a missionary in the town where he 
 labors. He is a missionary to the heathen. He founds the 
 needed asylums for the indigent, the needed hospitals for the 
 sick, the needed schools or colleges or universities for all 
 who hunger and thirst after knowledge. It is not he that 
 
THE GOSPEL PREACHED TO THE POOR. 259 
 
 does it. The gospel does it. It is not the gospel alone that 
 does it. It is the gospel as instinct with life, and enclosing 
 the power of the Divine Spirit, and preached bj Apollos or 
 Paul or some other man who breathes the atmosphere dif- 
 fused by that Spirit. " What then is Apollos ? and what is 
 Paul ? Neither is he that planteth anything, neither he that 
 watereth ; but God that giveth the increase." 
 
XI. 
 
 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 ROMANS II. 14,15. 
 
 FOE WH EN GENTILES WHICH HAVE NO LAW DO BY NATURE THE THINGS OF THE LAW, 
 THESE, HAVING NO LAW, AKE A LAW UNTO THEMSELVES; IN THAT THEY SHOW THB 
 WORK OP THE LAW WRITTEN IN THEIR HEARTS, THEIR CONSCIENCE BEARING WIT- 
 NESS THEREWITH, AND THEIR THOUGHTS ONE WITH ANOTHER ACCUSING OR ELSH 
 EXCUSING THEM. 
 
 Von Humboldt has remarked that " every man, however 
 good he may be, has a yet better man dwelling within him, 
 which is properly himself, but to whom nevertheless he is often 
 unfaithful. It is to the interior and less mutable being that 
 we should attach ourselves, not to the changeable every-day 
 man." We may say that every man, however bad he may 
 be, has a good man dwelling within him. This good man is 
 conscience, and is so far superior to the perverse will that it 
 is sometimes called the man himself. The prodigal son 
 came from his sensuality to himself, — to his reason includ- 
 ing his conscience.^ Every transgressor needs to " assure," 
 conciliate, pacify his own conscience as if it were a superior 
 self, condemning the inferior self, — the will which has trans- 
 gressed the law.2 
 
 Our text informs us that pagans as well as Christians have 
 this inward monitor for guiding them into the way of duty. 
 They know what holiness is, for conscience tells them what 
 it is. They know what sin is, for conscience tells them what it 
 is. Our context informs us that they are without excuse, for 
 
 i Luke XV. 17. 
 
 " 1 John iii. 19, 20. " Assure onr heart " including the conscience. 
 
CONSCIENCE. 261 
 
 they have known the right and have done the wrong. ^ Both 
 our text and context imply that all men, with or without 
 the gospel, have a conscience, and will be judged by the law 
 of conscience. The missionary goes to the heathen because 
 they have the distinguishing faculties of man ; because they 
 have essentially the same moral law which he has ; because 
 they are persons, and the law is written on their conscience,^ 
 they are a law to themselves, they accuse themselves of moral 
 wrong, or else excuse themselves if falsely charged with 
 moral wrong; they know that men who commit sin are 
 worthy of punishment and are in daily peril of receiving it. 
 There are thousands and millions in Christian lands who are 
 as ignorant of moral principles as multitudes of the pagans 
 are ; but notwithstanding all their ignorance they still retain 
 the power of perceiving what their duty is, they retain the 
 sensibility for remorse in view of neglecting their duty. 
 The cause of missions to the foreign heathen and to the 
 home heathen depends on the fact that these heathen can, 
 and do apprehend moral truth and moral law. The useful- 
 ness of the Christian ministry depends on the fact that the 
 minister addresses his discourses to the conscience of the 
 hearer, and the hearer applies them to his own conscience, 
 and in this way the Spirit of God convicts men ' in respect 
 to sin and righteousness and judgment.' ^ The first princi- 
 ples of morals and religion are enveloped in the nature of 
 this moral faculty ; therefore we may well endeavor to under- 
 stand what the faculty is. 
 
 I. What, then, is conscience ? The conscience of a man is 
 the man himself viewed as qualified to perform certain opera- 
 tions. What are these operations ? * 
 
 1. Conscience forms an idea of the right or holy as distinct 
 from the fit or beautiful or useful and from every other quality. 
 
 1 Rom. i. 18-25,32. 
 
 - Eom. ii. 15. " The work of the law written in their hearts," incliiditi<^ the 
 conscience. 
 « John xvi. 8. * See Note A, at the end of the sermon, p. 292. 
 
262 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 It also forms an idea of the wrong or sinful as distinct from 
 the unfit or ugly or hurtful and from every other quality. 
 It forms an idea of a moral agent as one who puts forth a 
 right, that is, a holy choice, or as one who puts forth a wrong, 
 that is, a sinful choice. The right or holy choice cannot be 
 separated from the moral agent, but it is the moral agent 
 choosing a certain good and refusing a certain evil. The 
 wrong or sinful choice cannot be separated from the moral 
 agent, but it is the moral agent refusing a certain good and 
 choosing a certain evil. 
 
 2. Conscience judges, decides the question, what is the 
 right or holy choice, and what is the wrong or sinful choice. 
 It forms this judgment first of all with regard to that pre- 
 dominant choice or elective preference which is the moral 
 principle, — the character of a man. It repeats this judgment 
 in regard to those subordinate preferences in which his moral 
 principle is acted out. It judges that the man in his generic 
 preference is holy or sinful, and it judges also that the man 
 is holy or sinful in his minor separate preferences, which are 
 individual instances of his generic choice. It judges that a 
 man is holy not because his outward deeds are expressions 
 of holiness, but because he loves God more than he loves any 
 other object. It judges that a man is sinful not as perform- 
 ing outward deeds which are expressions of sin, but as loving 
 himself or the world more than he loves God. The man is 
 not holy or sinful because his outward acts are good or evil, 
 but his outward acts are good or evil because the man is holy 
 or sinful. 
 
 3. Conscience perceives and feels that a moral agent is 
 obligated, is under obligation to put forth a right choice and 
 to abstain from putting forth a wrong one. In this third 
 exercise the mind forms its idea of ou^ht ; of duty as distinct 
 from prudence or interest ; of our being responsible, accoun- 
 table for putting forth the choice which we must put forth, and 
 are bound to put forth while we are free to refrain from it. 
 
 4. Wliile judging actions to be right, the conscience feels 
 
CONSCIENCE. 263 
 
 a peculiar kind of satisfaction in them, and while judging 
 actions to be wrong it feels a peculiar kind of dissatisfaction 
 in them. In this judgment and satisfaction the conscience is 
 said to approve the acts ; in the judgment and dissatisfac- 
 tion the conscience is said to disapprove them. Sometimes 
 the judgment predominates ; sometimes the feeling predomi- 
 nates. When the feeling predominates the approbation is 
 what Dr. Thomas Brown calls a kind of " moral love," and is 
 distinguished as complacency in the right ; the disapproba- 
 tion is a kind of moral hatred, and is distinguished as displa- 
 cency in the wrong. When the sinful act has been performed 
 by ourselves the displacency is often intensified, and is distin- 
 guished by the name compunction, or remorse ; — compunc- 
 tion, a feeling more painful than sorrow ; — remorse, a feeling 
 more bitter than regret. 
 
 5. Conscience perceives and feels the merit of actions 
 which it approves as holy, and the demerit of actions which 
 it disapproves as sinful. It perceives and feels that the 
 former deserve tlie complacency and the latter deserve the 
 displacency of all moral agents.^ It perceives more and 
 rises liigher than this. It perceives and feels that if holy 
 acts are not the just payment of an antecedent debt, they 
 deserve to be rewarded by a moral ruler, and that all unholy 
 acts deserve to be punished by a moral ruler. In the fifth 
 combined with the fourth exercise of its moral faculty the 
 mind forms its idea of moral law - as distinct from instruc- 
 tion or advice ; of moral reward as distinct from mere happi- 
 ness ; of moral punishment as distinct from mere pain ; of 
 conviction for sin as distinct from mere terror in view of its 
 results. A moral reward for holy acts is something more 
 than a ruler's feeling a complacency in them ; it is such an 
 
 1 We say that a choice or elective preference has merit or demerit, good or ill 
 desert. Of course we mean that the man, in choosing or electively preferring, 
 has tiiis good or ill desert. The deserving man is still termed a "dcserver"; 
 the ill-deserving man was in Shakespeare's day called an " undeserver." 
 
 '^ " Till somebody has a conscience, nobody can feel a law." Dr. Martineau's 
 "Endeavors after the Christian Life," p. 355 (American ed.), 1876. 
 
264 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 expression of his complacency as awakens in the obedient 
 subject a new complacency and joy. A moral punishment 
 for unholy acts is something more than the ruler's feeling- 
 a displaccncy in them, it is such an expression of his dis- 
 placency as excites in the disobedient subject a new 
 compunction and remorse. Although remorse of con- 
 science is radically distinct from regret for sin, yet it in- 
 tensifies the regret ; although it is radically distinct from 
 the sense of shame for sin, yet it quickens the shame ; 
 although it is radically distinct from the pain of disordered 
 passions, yet it deepens the pain and intermingles a new 
 element with it. 
 
 6. Conscience demands that right acts viewed simply as 
 right, and not as the just payment of an antecedent debt,^ be 
 rewarded so far as they can be ; and it demands that wrong 
 acts viewed simply as wrong be punished so far as they 
 deserve to be. It does not demand that our right acts viewed 
 as the just payment of a debt previously due to our Creator 
 be rewarded by him. It does not demand that our wrong 
 acts viewed as atoned for and forgiven by the God-man be 
 punished.'-^ It does not demand that our infmite Lawgiver 
 be distinctively rewarded, for he cannot be, for there is no 
 lawgiver above him who can reward him; but conscience 
 does demand that his infinite holiness be treated with justice 
 
 i See Note B, at the end of the sermon, p. 292 sq. 
 
 '^ Sec Eoni. viii. 31-34. Among other Scriptures the first Epistle of John 
 illustrates the fact that when men repent of sin and exercise faith in Christ's 
 atonement, their conscience ceases to demand punishment for their sin. This 
 Epistle teaches that we have disobeyed God's law (chap. i. 8, 9, et al.) ; that if we 
 obey God we have been regenerated (ii. 29 ; iii. 9, 10 ; v. 1, 18, et al.) ; that if we 
 obey we shall be saved on the ground of Christ's atonement (i. 7, 9 ; ii. I, 2, 12 ; 
 iii. 5 ; iv. 9, 10, et al.) ; also that if we obey, our consciences will be conciliated, 
 tranquillized, pacified, so that we shall have no fear of God's judgment, but 
 shall have boldness in view of it (ii. 28 ; iii. 18-21 ; iv, 9, 10, 17, 18, et al.). If 
 men know themselves to be destitute of the obedient spirit their conscience con- 
 demns them, and they have reason to fear that God, who has a fuller knowledge 
 of their sin than they themselves have, will condemn them more fully. This 
 interpretation of 1 John iii. 18-21 is in substantial accordance with the views 
 of Grotius, De Wette, Neandcr, as well as Calvin and Beza. 
 
CONSCIENCE. 266 
 
 as far as it can be, and to treat him with all possible justice 
 is to glorify him in all possible ways.^ 
 
 7. Conscience prompts the mind to anticipate that right 
 acts viewed simply as right will receive a reward propor- 
 tioned to their merit, and that wrong acts viewed simply 
 as wrong will receive a pnnishmcnt proportioned to their 
 demerit. So soon as conscience perceives and feels the obli- 
 gation to avoid all sin, and the ill-desert involved in having 
 committed any sin; so soon as it clearly apprehends the 
 nature of moral law, just so soon does it originate some 
 degree of anticipation that the exact penalty threatened by 
 this law will be inflicted.^ In this seventh exercise the moral 
 faculty has a kind of prophetic power, and it exerts this 
 power in the minds of pagans as well as Christians. Its 
 subtile activity is developed in men so rude and ignorant 
 that they appear to know very little except the relations of 
 duty. The barbarians saw the viper hanging on Paul's hand, 
 and said among themselves, ' No doubt this man is a mur- 
 derer, whom, though he hath escaped the sea, yet Justice 
 suffereth not to live.' The faculty by which they prophesied 
 death as a punishment for his murder, led them in its reflex 
 action to infer from the attack of the venomous animal that 
 Paul had committed the murder. ' And he shook off the 
 beast into the fire, and felt no harm,' saith the historian. 
 ' Howbeit they looked when he should have swollen or fallen 
 down dead ' ; but after they had looked long enough to see 
 that no harm was coming to him, and that he had escaped 
 from <he calamity which would have befallen a common 
 man, their consciences prompted them to infer that he was 
 a superhuman being.^ 
 
 The same tendency to anticipate evil as the result of sin, 
 
 1 Men complain of the truth that God made all things for his own glory; but 
 the promotion of his glory is demanded by justice to him, and this is demanded 
 by conscience. See pp. 195-202, above. 
 
 '^ This anticipation may be quieted by the atonement. See Note 2 on p. 264. 
 See Note C, at the end of the sermon, p. 294. 
 
 ^ Acts xxviii. 2-6 
 
266 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 and to infer a previous sin from a present evil, is seen in the 
 Egyptian prison where ten brethren were confined three days, 
 and there was specified no fault which was deserving of such 
 an imprisonment. Yet the consciences of the incarcerated 
 men were so formed as to associate pain with transgression, 
 therefore these consciences acted rcflcxly, and searched the 
 archives of the memory for some past misdemeanor which 
 was the cause of the present suffering ; " And they said one to 
 another, We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that 
 we saw the anguish of his soul when he besought us, and we 
 would not hear; therefore is this distress come upon us." 
 We must have been imprisoned for some crime, and this 
 old crime which we committed twenty-one years ago, and 
 which has been lying for nearly a quarter of a century un- 
 avenged, comes up now for its recompense. And then the 
 eldest brother made a further development of his conscience, 
 and its aptitude to interpret the events of life. It was. 
 natural for him to say : " I told you so." 'And Reuben said. 
 Spake I not unto you. Do not sin against the child ; and ye 
 would not hear ? therefore behold also his blood is required.' ^ 
 
 II. Having now examined the nature of the moral faculty, 
 let us notice a few thoughts suggested by it. 
 
 1. We cannot avoid reflecting, in the first place, upon the 
 richness and greatness with which the faculty invests the 
 human mind. There is an affluence in that nature which is 
 endowed with faculties for direction as well as those for action ; 
 with sensibilities to lead us right, and with energies for mov- 
 ing right. It is a pious thing for a man sauntering along 
 the road to stop his walk and look upon the worm that keeps 
 moving about its head to the one side and the other in appar- 
 ent doubt which way to go, and at length starting forward 
 in a line which it seems to have selected as the best one. It 
 is a religious way of learning the fulness of the divine bounty 
 to watch the insect as it throws out its antennae, feeling, 
 
 1 Gen. xlii. 16-22. 
 
CONSCIENCE. ^ 267 
 
 and feeling, and feeling, and finally moving in the course 
 that is felt to be the most convenient. There is a sound 
 lesson of philosophy hung upon the proboscis of an elephant. 
 The movements of that curious organ are an allegory of great 
 and deep truths. It folds up in itself the guiding and defend- 
 ing power of a wonderful, half-reasoning animal. So too we 
 sec the fruits of an cxhaustless liberality in that strange 
 principle by which the footsteps of the dog are directed 
 toward the hiding-place of the prey, or toward the retirement 
 of a lost master. 
 
 The guiding faculties of a man in his mere physical nature 
 are still more worthy of our pious meditation. The nerves 
 of feeling are spread out on the surface of the body, and are 
 most thickly spread at the extremities, where they are most 
 needed. The surface of the body is the principal seat of pain, 
 so that we may shrink from the knife and the fire, ere we be 
 lacerated or consumed. Man was made sq that he may walk 
 with dignity and circumspection, looking forward and seeing 
 whither he is to go, turning backward and seeing where he 
 has gone, glancing too at the right hand and the left; — 
 therefore " the wise man's eyes are in his head," not in the 
 palm of the hand or the side of the foot. 
 
 But all these faculties for outward guidance are but em- 
 blems of what is within. Within we have a complicated 
 apparatus by the working of which man learns to take the 
 safe course, or the prudent and judicious course, or the honor- 
 able or the decent, seemly, and delightful, or, above all, the 
 right course. Here is that moral eye that looks forward and 
 sees how the man should move ; that looks backward and 
 sees how the man has moved ; that looks all around, and 
 perceives that the right course is the straight course, and the 
 straight course is the shortest way to peace. Here is that 
 simple and versatile feeling, ever ready and prompt, taking 
 as many different forms as the relations of life demand. If 
 a future duty be thought of, there rises the feeling of ol^liga-- 
 tion to perform it. If a present duty be thought of, there 
 
26^ CONSCIENCE. 
 
 rises the feeling of satisfaction in the performance of it. If 
 a past duty be thought of, there rises the anticipation of 
 reward for having chosen, or of punishment for having re- 
 fused to perform it. As the bee when laden down with the 
 materials for the honey or the wax, flies back to its hive, so 
 the memory, having travelled into the regions of the past, 
 returns to the storehouse of the present, and lays before the 
 conscience those acts of virtue or of vice which are met with 
 either complacency or remorse. 
 
 It is from this monitor of virtue within us that our nature 
 derives a new dignity. The nature is a noble one because it 
 can be holy and in communion with God. We dare not say 
 that it derives a nobleness from its power to sin and rebel 
 against its Maker; this, however, is a sign of its original 
 affluence. The sun and the stars cannot debase themselves 
 in iniquity. The meanness of man as a sinner results from 
 his greatness as a man. He has an idea of duty. He has 
 a power to perform duty. Brutes have no duty. They are 
 not conscious of a fealty to the right. They have no obliga- 
 tion which they have the power to violate. As the animal 
 moves among material objects, so the human soul moves 
 among spiritual ; it comes into contact with responsibility 
 and recompense ; it touches that highest of all objects — 
 holiness ; it takes hold on judgment, on eternity ; it has its 
 senses for the discernment of relations which no poetic fancy 
 can invest with new grandeur — the relations of virtue. As 
 the animal has its protruding organs of sensation, so the 
 human race has its organs of moral feeling, and throws them 
 out — out on all sides, and by them comes into close contact 
 with ethereal natures — the cross of Christ, the throne of 
 God, — throws its organs of feeling out, I say, backward to 
 the first moment of moral being, and forward into eternity, 
 into the scenes of moral reward, of moral punishment, and 
 predicts, like a prophet of the Most High, what shall be here- 
 after. come, let us bow down with reverence before that 
 Being who made us in his image ! Let us adore that rich 
 
CONSCIENCE. 269 
 
 Divinity who has placed these jewels within us, and is not 
 impoverished by the gift. K he will deign to superintend a 
 planet made out of rock and dust, if he will bow his glories 
 to the care of the sun that is blind and deaf, and though it 
 shines on others, is itself illumined by no intelligent light ; 
 if God will condescend to hold systems of globes in his 
 fingers, and to say of a material universe, " It is good," then 
 he must feel an illimitable interest in a man's soul ; then 
 although he may be compelled by justice to resist his desire, 
 yet he must desire to save that immortal nature which will 
 be only beginning to live when all the stars of heaven shall 
 have faded away. 
 
 2. Partly involved in the preceding thought is a second 
 one, — the activity and the tenacity of the moral sense. Its 
 actions are rapid and multiplied altogether beyond our re- 
 membered consciousness, and its tendency is to retain its 
 decisions, and to reaffirm them hereafter as they are affirmed 
 now. 
 
 Conscience is quick in its action. The nature of the soul 
 is such that a man may have in one minute more thoughts 
 than he could express in ten or twenty minutes, and he may 
 not be able to remember one of these thoughts during the 
 very next minute after he has experienced them.^ The 
 nature of the soul is such that every man takes notice of all 
 his moral judgments at the time they are formed ; but such 
 is their alertness of succession that his memory does not keep 
 its hold upon all of them, and the man is now not fully aware 
 of their immense number. They must be numerous ; for con- 
 science is an eye of the mind and sees whatever is presented 
 to it, and the objects presented to this eye of the mind are 
 more thickly set together than those which are presented to 
 
 1 Kant is said to have remarked in his Lectures " that we can dream more in 
 a minute than we can act during; the day." Sir Benjamin Brodie informs us 
 (in his Psychological Inquiries) that Lord Holland, after hearine the bcffinning 
 of a sentence, fell asleep, had a dream which could not be written in less than 
 a quarter of an hour, and yet did not sleep more than a few seconds. 
 
270 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 the eye of tlie body ; and yet who is able to count up all the 
 objects which are seen by the corporeal eye when opened for a 
 single moment on a wide landscape ? The moral judgments 
 must be numerous, for they are essential to the existence of 
 moral choice, and the acts of moral choice are as the sand of 
 the sea for multitude. They are the developments of the 
 predominant choice, the permanent character of the will. 
 They may be compared to a stream constantly flowing forth 
 from the fountain which is constantly bubbling up. We must 
 exercise a right or a wrong preference whenever we think of 
 the Creator as the Being to whom we owe gratitude and 
 allegiance ; whenever we think of our fellow-creatures as 
 beings whose wants we can relieve or whose character we 
 can improve ; whenever we think of ourselves as related to 
 the sentient natures above us and around us. We are under 
 a law to love every ethical good, and hate every ethical evil, 
 in proportion to its claims,^ and of course we must perform 
 some right act of obedience, or some wrong act of disobe- 
 dience, to this law whenever we think of any ethical good or 
 any ethical evil. 
 
 Is it objected that, if our moral decisions were so numerous, 
 we should retain a remembrance of them ? Reflect upon the 
 processes of a musician. During a period of five or ten minutes 
 he may be reading or remembering the poetic stanzas, read- 
 ing the musical notes adapted to them, reflecting on the sub- 
 jects directly or indirectly associated with them, feeling 
 various emotions appropriate to these subjects, and at the 
 same time moving his vocal organs in harmony with his 
 thoughts and sentiments, also moving each of his fingers 
 upon some key or string or stop of his musical instrument,^ 
 and at tlie end of these processes he can remember only a 
 few of the sensations, perceptions, thoughts, affections, voli- 
 
 1 The dictates of conscience as a lawjriver are in unison with the moral law 
 as revealed in Matt. xxii. .37-40 ; Mark xii. 29-34, and parallel passages ; also 
 in passages like 1 Cor. x. 31 ; Col. iii. 17 ; 1 Thess. v. 17, 18 ; 1 Pet. iv. 11, etc. 
 
 ' See Note D, at the end of the sermon, p. 294 sq. 
 
CONSCIENCE. 271 
 
 tions, which have been experienced by him during the five 
 or ten minutes of his performance. We have reason to 
 believe that every man, every hour, may perform scores of 
 moral acts which he forgets as soon as he has performed 
 them. In a single hour the moral sense may point out the 
 duty of the hour, and the will may refuse to perform the 
 duty ; and conscience may command a second time, and the 
 will a second time may disobey ; and conscience may renew 
 again and again her mandate, and the will may repeat and 
 reiterate her opposition, and then the hour may wind itself up 
 and carry its report to God ; and the next hour the conflict 
 may go on as before, or perhaps may deepen, and the third 
 hour the alternation of command and disobedience may be re- 
 peated just as often or may become even quicker and quicker ; 
 and the whole life may be filled up with this process of man- 
 date and refusal, bidding and defying ; — the conscience say- 
 ing, ' Thou shalt,' and the heart responding, ' I will not ' ; and 
 the rebellious mind asks at length. Why, what evil have I 
 done ? Wherein, through my long life, have I offended ? 
 
 Here, in this rapid sequence of moral judgments, is to be 
 found a philosophical explanation of human guilt. As in 
 space there are objects too small to be seen with the naked 
 eye, so in time there are acts too minute to be detected with- 
 out a spiritual microscope. These acts are performed, not 
 in darkness, but in the light constantly radiating from the 
 moral faculty. Every sin is a free, voluntary transgression 
 of the law given by this ever active power. Here is one 
 scientific ground for the denunciations of the Bible against 
 the unsanctified heart. Do you say that these denunciations 
 are too severe ? But " certain even of your own poets," — 
 and poetry is often the soundest philosophy — have portrayed 
 the human conscience as uttering denunciations just as severe. 
 Do you say that the law as written in the Bible is too un- 
 pitying ? But " certain of your own " philosophers have 
 described the law of conscience as just so unpitying. Do 
 you say that the language imputed to Jehovah in the Bible 
 
272 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 is too terrific ? But one argument for that language is that 
 the poets and sages in all lands and all times have repre- 
 sented the conscience as developing itself in the same terrific 
 way. Moral science is in unison with the Bible. The depths 
 of one correspond with the depths of the other. Experience 
 has proved that the biblical methods of portraying the divine 
 justice in regard to sin are the most impressive methods of 
 portraying it, and the milder methods are like globules of 
 quicksilver rolling over a plate of glass.^ When an objector 
 says that the threatenings of inspired men are to be regarded 
 as mere Oriental hyperbole, he overlooks the controversial 
 dialogue that is kept up between the monitor of duty and 
 the heart " desperately wicked." He overlooks the fact that 
 some of the mysteries of revelation have their counterpart 
 in the mysteries of the human will choosing, whenever it 
 can choose, either the right or the wrong. He is like the 
 child who is looking upon a chronometer as a gilded watch- 
 toy, and does not know that its inward machinery is all 
 alive, the mainspring hard at work, wheel striking upon 
 wheel, the almost invisible chain pulling and drawing strongly 
 upon its pivot, and all is industry and busy movement, and 
 there is no rest day nor night; and well would it be for 
 man if the constant play, the action and reaction of his 
 moral powers were as well conformed to the law of his being 
 as the movements of a watch are conformed to the law of its 
 mechanism. 
 
 While we marvel at the rapidity, we marvel still more at 
 the tenacity, of the moral sense. Its law is to reaffirm here- 
 after the decisions which it makes now. From its own 
 nature, without a revelation, we cannot surely infer, but we 
 are prepared to believe, " that every idle word that men shall 
 speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment." 
 The very nature of conscience predisposes us to accept the 
 word of its Author, that he " will bring to light the hidden 
 
 ' See p. 168 sq. above. 
 
CONSCIENCE. 273 
 
 tilings of darkness, and make manifest the counsels of the 
 hearts." ^ 
 
 The inherent tendency of the powers belonging to a moral 
 agent makes it not at all improbable that he will ultimately 
 recover his knowledge of all the moral phenomena which he 
 knows now or ever did know. The stars of heaven are in- 
 visible by day, but they are not lost ; they will reappear at 
 night. Conscience has been compared to a penman writing 
 with sympathetic ink, taking note of every delinquency, 
 recording words which will become distinctly visible at some 
 exposure to the light or heat of a fire. Our books of philoso- 
 phy have made us familiar with various phenomena of resus- 
 citated knowledge. We have read of the man who had been 
 absent thirty years from his native land, had entirely for- 
 gotten his vernacular language ; but all at once, lying on his 
 sick bed, he began to speak fluently in the words which had 
 before altogether escaped his remembrance. We have read of 
 the student who, on recovering from a fever, was found to have 
 lost the acquisitions which he had made at school. He began 
 to relearn his Latin grammar, and after reacquiring the ele- 
 ments, and beginning, as if in a second childhood, to construe 
 simple phrases, suddenly, in an instant, he regained his lost 
 attainments, and he found himself to have received back, by 
 one opening of his mind, all the knowledge which seemed to 
 have escaped him. We have heard of an unlettered servant 
 " who could neither read nor write " ; but, suddenly and to 
 the surprise of all, began to repeat Hebrew, Greek, and Latin 
 sentences, just as they stand in the Hebrew Bible, or in the 
 works of the Jewish E-abbis, or of the Greek and Latin 
 fathers. It was found that this unlettered servant had 
 listened several years before to the loud reading of these 
 Hebrew, Greek, and Latin sentences ; and, without under- 
 standing a single word of them, had hidden them in the 
 
 1 See Matt. xii. 36; 1 Cor. iv. 5. See also Eom. ii. 16 ; 1 Cor. iii. 13-15; 
 2 Cor. V. 10, etc. 
 
274 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 recesses of her mind and reproduced them after they had 
 been long forgotten.^ 
 
 There are striking instances of persons who have heard 
 the words of a Christian preacher and have neither under- 
 stood them nor reflected upon them, until at some con- 
 juncture of events the words and their meaning have flashed 
 upon the pre\aously forgetful mind and resulted in its 
 renewal. History and science may unite with the gospel 
 in animating the faithful pastor with a hope, that although 
 the impressions which he makes may appear to be blurred 
 and illegible for a season, yet they may not be entirely 
 effaced, and may at some future time shine out suddenly 
 with a radiance which will continue forever. Many of us 
 have heard of the Indian preacher who, before his sixth year, 
 was accidentally thrown into the company of Christians, and 
 listlessly heard them converse on the atonement of Christ ; 
 but he soon left them, and spent his remaining childhood, his 
 boyhood, his early manhood, in heathenism, and for a long 
 time had forgotten that he ever heard of an atonement ; but 
 on a sick bed all these strange sounds of his childhood came 
 striking again upon his ears ; those words were reillumined 
 before his almost glazed eye ; he imagined he had almost 
 received a miraculous revelation from the long-forgotten 
 Messiah — that he was converted like one of old, who said, 
 " At midday I saw a light from heaven, above the bright- 
 ness of the sun, shining round about me." That was no 
 miracle, save as the soul of man is susceptible of a preter- 
 natural influence which has the semblance of a miracle. 
 Tliat was no miracle ; that was memory awaking like a giant 
 refreshed from his slumbers, and drawing back the knowledge 
 which seemed to have fled past all redemption. That was 
 memory rousing up the conscience from a lengthened torpor 
 to a new vigor. That was conscience testifying " of sin and 
 of righteousness and of judgment," and disclosing the need 
 and the power of the atonement. 
 
 1 See Note E, at the end of the sermon, p. 295 sq. 
 
CONSCIENCE. 275 
 
 Tlie ancient sculptor engraved the letters of his own name 
 on the marble pediment of the column, and then covered the 
 letters with plaster on which he engraved the name of the 
 monarch for whom the column was reared ; so that when 
 time had worn away the stucco covering, the name of the 
 monarch was lost, and the name of the sculptor shone forth 
 cut in the rock forever. Thus enduring will be the decisions 
 of the moral sense. Every vain excuse which now hides 
 them from view is like the stucco covering that will soon 
 crumble away, and these decisions will reappear engraved on 
 the soul forever. 
 
 We have read of a prisoner who disturbed the silence of 
 his fellow-culprits at dead of night by a loud groan in his 
 cell. His keepers ran to him and inquired the cause of his 
 sudden agony. ' Twenty years ago,' he replied, ' I was a 
 sailor, and in a storm was sent up to the mast-head, and the 
 sails flapped, and the mast rocked, and I was perplexed and 
 enraged, and I cursed God ; and for twenty years I had not 
 thought of that curse, and now it has come back to me ; 
 and it is all over witli me, for I prayed for vengeance on 
 myself, and I am undone.' Conscience had treasured up 
 that sin, and brought it out in the black and dark night. 
 This is her law; her judgments so soon and so long for- 
 gotten are still preserved in the depths of the soul. We 
 speak of them as buried there ; but they will have their 
 day of resurrection. The great day of judgment is the 
 day of departed thoughts risen from the dead. When the 
 trumpet shall sound, then shall be lifted up the super- 
 incumbent mass under which the iniquities of preceding 
 time may have lain buried, and these iniquities will rise 
 up an exceeding great army. What was condemned once 
 will be condemned again and yet again. Witliout an 
 atoning act of the God-man the remorse which exists at 
 any time would exist at all times. The mystery of redemp- 
 tion is, tliat it can appease so fearful a power as the human 
 conscience. 
 
276 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 " O treacherous Conscience ! while she seems to sleep 
 On rose and myrtle, lulled with eiren song ; 
 While she seem?, nodding o'er her charge, to drop 
 On headlong Appetite the slackened rein, 
 And give us up to license, unrecaUed, 
 Unmarked, — see, from behind her secret stand, 
 The sly informer minutes every fault, 
 And her dread diary with horror fills. 
 Not the gross act alone employs her pen; 
 She reconnoitres Fancy's airy band. 
 A watchful foe; the formidable spy, 
 Listening, o'erhears the whispers of our camp, 
 Our dawning jiurposes of heart explores, 
 And steals our embryos of iniquity. 
 As all-rapacious usurers conceal 
 Their doomsday-book from all-consuming heirs, 
 Thus, with indulgence most severe, she treats 
 Us spendthrifts of inestimable time ; 
 Unnoted, notes each moment misapplied ; 
 In leaves more durable than leaves of brass 
 Writes our whole history, which Death shall read 
 In every pale delinquent's private ear, 
 And judgment pubUsh — publish to more worlds 
 Than this, and endless age in groans resound 1 
 Lorenzo, such that sleeper in thy breast; 
 Such is her slumber, and her vengeance such 
 For slighted counsel ; such thy future peace ; 
 And think'st thou still thou canst be wise too soon?" 
 
 3. The activity and tenacity of the moral sense suggest 
 the idea of its authority and power. Under the phrase 
 authority of conscience is included not only its right to 
 govern, but its attempt to exercise this right. It has a just 
 claim to Ijc the ruling faculty ; it says, " Thou shalt." The 
 very notion of duty, the meaning of ought, suggests the 
 notion of empire. We say that authority resides in a polit- 
 ical senate, but conscience is the primitive legislature of the 
 race. It has authority also as the judge of the moral being ; 
 and a judge constitutionally so true that the great God, wha 
 is to be mentioned only with awe, appeals to its trustworthy 
 bench, even deigns to be tried before it, and asks, " Are not 
 
CONSCIENCE 277 
 
 my ways equal ?"^ Though it is uusafe to unite in a 
 political magistrate the legislative and judicial functions, 
 they are not only blended together in the conscience, but a 
 third office, the executive, is superadded to them. Political 
 magistrates do not reward the obedient, but only punish the 
 disobedient. This moral magistrate is liberal in it? promises 
 of reward, fearfully profuse in its threatenings of penalty. 
 Nor does it merely promise ; it makes the virtuous expect a 
 reward, and he who hopes for a good enjoys that good in his 
 very anticipation. Nor docs it merely threaten; it makes 
 the vicious expect a punishment, and he who fears an evil 
 suffers that evil in his very fear. Nor is this the only mode 
 in which the moral faculty executes its own laws. It imparts 
 a pleasure to some that is the elixir of life, and a pain to 
 others that drinketh up the spirit. 
 
 Nor is it enough to say that conscience has authority ; it 
 has a predominant authority over all the other principles of 
 our nature. The eye has authority over objects of vision, 
 and the touch can never go out of its sphere and dispute 
 the ocular judgment on a question of color. The ear has 
 authority in regard to the objects of hearing, and when it 
 has condemned one note as harsh the eye cannot rise up and 
 impugn the decision. Now, conscience is placed over the 
 voluntary movements of all the other powers ; they are its 
 subjects, just as sounds are suljjccts of the ear, sights of the 
 eye. Conscience determines when and how far the eye or 
 ear, intellect or fancy, or any other principle shall be grati- 
 fied. The imagination has no more right to resist a com- 
 mand of conscience than the taste has to gainsay a report 
 of the memory. What if we do choose to obey an appetite 
 rather than the moral sense ? We naturally feel that in such 
 a choice we have committed treason. The conscience is 
 willing to receiAC aid from all the subordinate powers — for 
 where is the emperor that has not his counsellors and nobles ? 
 but it may rightly disdain control from any other principle. 
 
 1 Ezek. xviii. 29. 
 
278 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 What if it is not an independent ruler ; what if all its power 
 is delegated, and it stands a vicegerent of God ? Yet is it 
 absolute in its decisions, and recognizes no appellate juris- 
 diction on earth. So great is the authority of conscience. 
 
 By the power of the faculty we mean not only its endeavor 
 to exercise authority, but its actual exercise of it, its influence. 
 Its power comes from its authority. There is no rightful 
 claimant of a throne but has some influence, even though he 
 be denied his regal seat ; else why is he feared and imprisoned, 
 and his honor tarnished ? Man is so made that the voice of 
 injured majesty does not sound in his ear like the song of a 
 drunkard. But the power of conscience is something more 
 than a cry from an imprisoned monarch. It sooner or later 
 succeeds in its essays to affect the soul. A criminal may 
 escape the sheriff, and hide himself in the wilderness ; 
 but the dreariest solitude is the poorest refuge possible from 
 the preying of remorse. The criminal feels exempt from 
 danger of the civil law when darkness covers the earth ; but 
 the thickest darkness is the worst covert conceivable from 
 the hauntings of a guilty conscience. Neither height nor 
 depth can long separate a sinner from it. It is a remark of 
 Plato that if we could examine the heart of a king we should 
 find it full of scars and black wounds ; for no slave has ever 
 been lashed by his master more than a king's heart by his 
 conscience. 
 
 " I once met on the sea-shore," said the Eastern poet Sadi, 
 " a pious man who had been attacked by a tiger, and was 
 horribly mutilated. He was dying, and suffering dreadful 
 agonies ; nevertheless, his features were calm and serene, 
 and his physical pain seemed to be vanquished hj the purity 
 of his soul. ' Great God,' said he, ' I thank thee that I am 
 only suffering from the fangs of the tiger, and not of 
 remorse.' " For remorse in its very definition is an eating 
 upon the soul, a gnawing again upon it, and there is no 
 strength whicli can long endure this reiterated pain. 
 
 Mr. Fordyce narrates the history of an opulent and inllu- 
 
CONSCIENCE. 279 
 
 ential judge, whose duty it became to pass sentence upon a 
 servant that had just been tried for murdering his master. 
 As the spectators were waiting for the sentence the judge 
 arose, placed himself by the side of the prisoner, and confessed 
 that thirty years before, in a distant region, he had been a 
 servant, liad taken the life and the property of his master, 
 and by means of that property had secured his present station 
 and influence ; and, though he had never been suspected of 
 the crime, he importuned his colleagues on the bench so to 
 interpose that they miglit condemn him now, in his old and 
 honorable age, to the death which his youthful sin demanded. 
 This is one of the peculiar workings of the moral faculty ; it 
 often welcomes punishment ; it will not rest without a full 
 measure of retributive suffering; it makes the guilty man 
 hasten to his woe, just as the waters of the river seem to 
 hurry onward to reach the cataract. In numerous cases the 
 remorseful man described in the drama seems intent on 
 feeling a still deeper remorse, and to have an almost insane 
 hankering after a just recompense from others. This is 
 often the impelling cause of suicide. " So writhes the mind 
 remorse hath riven." It is this which leads men to see and 
 to feel that there can be no remission, unless there be a 
 " Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world." 
 
 4. Wliile considering the authority and power of conscience 
 we are naturally led to consider its influence over our re- 
 ligious belief. There arc many truths which men appear to 
 disbelieve, which they think that they do disbelieve, but 
 which, after all, are secretly forced upon their faith by this 
 inward monitor of truth, as truth is involved in duty. 
 
 The moral faculty leads us to believe in the existence of 
 God. It requires a spirit of reverence for the true and the 
 good, and it is this spirit which guides the mind into theism. 
 It contains adaptations of means to the noblest ends, and 
 thus rc'-cals the adapting cause. It develops itself in processes 
 
280 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 which cannot be fully and fairly interpreted except as im- 
 plying the existence of a personal Creator and a moral Ruler. 
 When conscience teaches that we ought to do right we 
 rationally interpret it as expressing a command to do right ; 
 but it expresses this command by compulsion ; hence we 
 infer that there is a compelling Cause, a personal Commander, 
 who uncompelled gives his own mandate in the imperative 
 act of our moral faculty ; and we rationally interpret his 
 mandate as implying that he wills our holy obedience to 
 him. So soon as conscience teaches that we ought to do 
 right, it teaches also that we are under an obligation to some 
 autliority above us, and it anticipates that if we violate this 
 obligation to do right we shall be punished. Here we 
 rationally interpret the conscience as threatening our punish- 
 ment ; but it is compelled to express this threat ; hence we 
 infer that there is a compelling Cause, a personal Menacer, 
 who uncompelled makes our conscience the vehicle for giving 
 his own menace ; and we rationally interpret his menace as 
 implying his holy will that we abstain from doing wrong. 
 As we interpret the workings of our moral faculty to be a 
 command and a threat, so we interpret them to be a law. 
 They contain distinctive elements of a moral law. They are 
 authoritative in requiring us to act in one way and not in 
 another way. They exert an influence prompting and 
 quickening the will to act in the legal way, and to abstain 
 from acting in the illegal way. They lack, however, one 
 distinctive clement of a moral law ; they are not the workings 
 of a person, for conscience is not a person. We say that it 
 is a lawgiver, but it works by compulsion ; hence we infer 
 that it has a compelling Cause, a personal Lawgiver ; and we 
 rationally interpret his action upon our conscience as imply- 
 ing his holy choice that we do what conscience requires, and 
 abstain from doing what conscience forbids. We speak of 
 other lawgivers, but he is the original one ; he gives what is 
 his own ; he gives first, and others repeat what they have 
 received from him. We are justified in saying that Moses 
 
CONSCIENCE. 281 
 
 was a lawgiver, although he only rehearsed what had been 
 given to him ; for he testifies : " The Lord delivered unto me 
 two tables of stone written with the finger of God." ^ We 
 speak of other lawgivers ; but the Lord is the voluntary 
 Giver, and he has involuntary representatives. We are jus- 
 tified in saying that the conscience of men is a lawgiver, for 
 it is a sign of what its maker has given ; for men show " the 
 work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience 
 bearing witness therewith."''^ From the writing we infer 
 the existence of the writer ; and " it is he that hath made us, 
 and not we ourselves." The poet says : " Man's conscience 
 is the oracle of God." As from the nature of the oracles 
 termed the Scriptures we infer that they have an author who 
 has made the Scriptures his law, so from the nature of the 
 oracle termed conscience we infer that it has an author who 
 has made the conscience his law. This inference is made the 
 more imperative by the authority of the moral sense to demand 
 that justice be done ; to insist that he who merits a reward 
 and he who merits a penalty shall receive all that is merited. 
 We have an innate tendency to believe that the constitu- 
 tional demand of the moral faculty is right, and that the 
 constitution of the universe is right, and that the two are in 
 unison with each other. Hence we have an innate tendency 
 to believe that, as justice ought to be administered, so in fact 
 it will be administered ; and this implies that it will in fact 
 be administered by a person who does what ought to be done, 
 who expresses to the conscience of men his complacency of 
 conscience in their holy choice, and his displacency of con- 
 science in their sinful choice. Our moral faculty demands 
 that which implies the existence of a just God. It impels us 
 to anticipate his decisions. If this faculty is right, he exists. 
 If he does not exist, our moral faculty is wrong. 
 
 As the processes of the moral faculty are movements to- 
 wai'd the doctrine of the divine existence, so they are move- 
 
 1 Deut. ix. 10 ; Ex. xxxi. 18. 2 Rom. ii. 15. 
 
282 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 ments toward the doctrine of the soul's future existence. 
 The soul acts on the principle that its constitutional demands 
 are right. One of its constitutional demands is, that sin be 
 punished as it deserves to be ; thsrefore it will be punished as 
 it deserves to be ; but it is not thus punished in this life ; then 
 there will be a future life in which the demand of conscience 
 for punishment will be fulfilled. Again, the soul acts on the 
 principle that its constitutional anticipations are right, and 
 will be verified. One of its constitutional anticipations is, 
 that sin will receive the punishment which is deserved and 
 demanded ; but it does not receive this punishment in the 
 present world ; then there will be a future world in which 
 the anticipations of conscience will be verified. Many a man 
 has boasted of certain arguments by which he could prove 
 that there will be no future existence ; but he has feared 
 that there will be one, notwithstanding all his arguments. 
 
 " I am willing to confess," said an unbeliever, " that the 
 superstitions of the nursery cling to me even yet, and when- 
 ever my body is weak I am a prey to my old childisli fears ; 
 but I am recovering from my imbecility." " Am recovering," 
 
 — but he never recovered. " Superstitions of the nursery," 
 
 — they begin early and continue late. "Childish fears," — 
 they are the result of instincts planted in the childhood and 
 the manhood and the old age of a human being, in the very 
 nature of the human soul. We admit that a man may bend 
 and strain his conscience into a narrow circle, as he may 
 bend and strain the bow, which springs back again with an 
 augmented force, and infixes the arrow so much the more 
 deeply. 
 
 One of the English infidels always wrote against the doc- 
 trine of immortality as if he were shuddering in fear of it ; 
 and in his autobiography he endeavored to explain away his 
 predisposition to tremor and dark forebodings by describing 
 the weakness of his nervous system, and referring this weak- 
 ness to a shock wliich he received in the early part of his 
 life. But that shock which he received in the early part of 
 
CONSCIENCE. 283 
 
 liis life was the presage of the shock that was never to be 
 quieted; and that "weakness of the nervous system" was 
 the tremulousness of a man whose will was at war with his 
 constitutional instincts. Such a man is contending not with 
 his conscience alone, but with its Maker also. It is very 
 true that he is apt to have ' a weakness of the nervous system 
 coming from a shock which he received in the early part of 
 his life ' ; for he began to sin in the early part of his life, 
 and his conscience began to reproach him in the early part 
 of his life ; and even Juvenal has said that " the guilty are 
 alarmed and turn pale at the slightest thunder." ^ 
 
 It is intimated in the preceding remarks that our moral 
 faculty leads us to believe in the necessity of an atonement 
 for sin. It perceives that transgressors of the law deserve 
 punishment, and it demands that they receive what they 
 deserve. Desert, — it is an idea formed by the noblest of 
 our mental powers ! Ill-desert, — it is an idea filling us with 
 awe! The demand of conscience, — it involves the idea of 
 law as authoritative, of government as founded in the depths 
 of the human soul ! The retributive justice exercised by our 
 moral Ruler toward men who transgress his law is his choice 
 to comply with his illimitable and unerring conscience in the 
 infliction of the penalty which is both deserved and de- 
 manded.2 i^ \^ ^ majestic attribute. Viewing ourselves as 
 transgressors, we expect to be arraigned before it. "We fear 
 it, not because it contains any one element which ought not 
 to be there, nor because it fails to contain any one clement 
 which ought to be there, but because it unites with itself the 
 demand of an infinite and pure conscience, and because it 
 
 1 " Hi sunt qui trepidant, et ad omnia fulgura pallent." 
 
 - As the liolincss of mercy consists in it as a choice, but blends with itself an 
 involuntary sentiment, — a constitutional pity, so the holiness of retributive 
 justice consists in it as a choice, but blonds with itself an involuntary senti- 
 ment, —a demand of conscience. This is sometimes called the retributive sen- 
 timent, and is the body united with the choice which is the soul of the virtue. 
 See Note on p. 176 sq. above. 
 
284 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 reminds us of our offences against it. A heathen poet has 
 said that " conscience is a thousand witnesses." ^ These 
 witnesses will testify of our oifences, but do not now remem- 
 ber one in a thousand of them. Still, thej point us forward 
 to the Judge who will bring to light the hidden things of 
 darkness. Our unaided reason discovers no method in which 
 he can withhold the expression of his displacency in vieTr of 
 our sin. That expression will involve our punishment. Our 
 unaided reason discovers no metliod in which our own con- 
 science can be prevented from feeling remorse in view of our 
 sin. That remorse will be involved in our punishment. Our 
 unaided reason warns us that our final Judge will by no 
 means clear the guilty. Its normal presumption is that jus- 
 tice will be done. Still, our unaided reason cannot limit the 
 treasures of infinite wisdom. It confesses that there may be 
 some principle on which he who made our consciences can 
 free them from their merited remorse. He may know a 
 method of grace ; but our consciences tell us of law, of ill- 
 desert, of justice, and they predict no relief. As the great 
 mystery is not how sin can be allowed to exist forever, but 
 how it was ever allowed to begin, so the great mystery is not 
 how God can punish sin forever, but how he can ever pardon 
 it. We can only wait for him to solve the mystery. He has 
 solved it in the cross of Christ. We accept its teaching, that 
 without the shedding of blood on that cross there can be no 
 remission. Without the efficacy of that cross, expressing in 
 the pain of our substitute the displacency of his Father toward 
 our sin, that displacency must have been so expressed to us 
 as to awaken our own compunction and remorse. The more 
 carefully we examine our own consciences, and the more 
 keenly we feel their judicial influence, so much the more 
 clearly do we perceive that the deepest mystery of our moral 
 life lies hidden in the words that God is just, and the Justi- 
 fier of them who believe in Jesus. 
 
 1 " Conscientia mille testes." — Juvenal. Shakespeare says : " Conscience is 
 a thousand swords." 
 
CONSCIENCE. 285 
 
 There are other doctrines against which many a man has 
 argued while he could not avoid either a hope or a fear that 
 they were true. The pertinacity of his moral sense in cleaving 
 to these doctrines has induced him to re-examine his array 
 of argument and reach a conclusion harmonizing his reason- 
 ings with his moral sentiments. The minister of the gospel 
 may press these doctrines upon the conscience of his hearers 
 with the assurance that it will approve what the sinful heart 
 opposes, and that sooner or later men will recognize their 
 hidden faith in what they openly attempt to disprove. Their 
 conscience is his ally. " The strength of the hills is his 
 also." 
 
 We have heard of mariners sailing over the Caribbean sea, 
 and imagining that they hear the ringing of bells on the 
 sunken islands. There are truths lying low down in the 
 minds of men, — truths seeming to be forgotten or willingly 
 kept out of sight, and yet ever and anon sending up obscure 
 and mysterious voices, echoing and re-echoing in the ear of 
 conscience, which is said to hear their slightest whisper. So 
 a victim of vice awakes at night sometimes, and thinks that 
 he hftars the sound of his mother's prayers as they went up 
 for him in his childhood. The hopes and fears, the imagina- 
 tion and the memory and the judgment, are all quickened by 
 the conscience reigning while it seems to be deposed. 
 
 5. The preceding topic suggests the truth that the moral 
 faculty and the spiritual character of men act and react on 
 each other. 
 
 The spiritual character exerts an obvious influence on the 
 moral faculty. If our elective preferences be in harmony 
 with the dictates of our moral guide ; if they be ready and 
 quick in responding to its gentlest whisper, then is the con- 
 science refined and invigorated. Its rule is the more dcci- 
 sive as it is the more promptly obeyed ; its judgments are the 
 more emphatic as they are the more highly esteemed. But 
 if the spiritual feelings rebel against their inward director ; if 
 
286 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 the decisions of conscience be unheeded or openly opposed, it 
 begins to pronounce its judgments more faintly, and to abate 
 the force of its reproofs. Conscience is a queen who casts 
 not her costliest pearls before the ungrateful. At first she 
 calls aloud, saying " This is the way, walk ye in it " ; but 
 when the man whom she has warned passes by the right way, 
 and will not walk therein, she is apt to speak in a lower and 
 lower tone, and at last to turn back her face and let the way- 
 ward traTcller go on as he has blindly chosen, regardless of 
 her still continued, but almost stifled, murmurings. Like 
 her great archetype in the heavens, she does not strive nor 
 cry, neither is her voice heard in the noisy streets. Hence 
 the danger of resisting her first monition. Hence the cauter- 
 izing effect of the first sin. It indurates the sensibility to 
 virtue, and sometimes the moral power is weakened so as not 
 to be completely restored until death. When the conscience 
 and the heart begin their dialogue, the one saying, " Thou 
 shalt go " ; the other saying, " I will not " ; the one sitting 
 in majesty upon her throne ; the other smiling and flattering 
 and importuning — that is a fearful moment. If the heart 
 prevail, then the sceptre of the monarch is taken away, the 
 lustre of her dominion is destroyed, and perhaps she never 
 resumes her full authority in this world. In the language 
 of an injured queen, she exclaims, " I cannot endure to sit 
 upon a throne tarnished by my enemies. Ye have robbed 
 me of my paternal jewel and broken the diamond ring of my 
 mother ; and I hide my face not in shame, but in grief, and 
 I beseech you to trouble me no more." This is the policy 
 of our moral sense : when her laws are trampled under foot, 
 and the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, she retires 
 beyond all distinct and remembered consciousness for a 
 season, and at last, when her hour is come, she gathers up 
 all her energies, and reasserts her rights with her recovered 
 sceptre, and with a more awing and imposing mien. When 
 the soul is unguarded and bereft of all consolation, then does 
 conscience invade it with its teri'ors. Be careful, then, my 
 
CONSCIENCE, 287 
 
 fellow-sinner, if thou be uuhumbled for transgression, that 
 thou never fall into calamity ; for that is the time for the 
 rising of the power which comes forth, when it does come, 
 resistless as an army with banners. Be careful that thou 
 never leave the dry land ; for peril broodcth on the waters, 
 and conscience finds her opportunity in the storm. Be care- 
 ful that thou journey not by the railway, for there danger is 
 ever lurking ; and guard against thy death-bed, for where the 
 dying sinner is there are the eagles of conscience gathered 
 together. 
 
 Thou fool ! Tliat which thou sowest is not quickened ex- 
 cept it die ; and that reproof of conscience which lies now 
 buried in forgetfulness will therefore rise again invigorated 
 by its long slumber. Be not deceived. Conscience is not 
 mocked. Whatever thou sowest, that shalt thou also reap. 
 Thou goest forth rejoicing and scattering the seeds of sin, 
 but thou shalt come back again with weeping and bringing 
 thy sheaves with thee. Thou goest forth carelessly sowing 
 the wind, but thou shalt come back again affrighted, reaping 
 the whirlwind. 
 
 As the spiritual and social affections act upon the con- 
 science, so does conscience act upon them. It imparts 
 courage and fortitude to the virtuous man. He can live and 
 smile tliough preyed on by vultures. " Thrice is he armed, 
 that hath his quarrel just." He expects to conquer, and 
 knows that though his enemies come against him like the 
 trees of the forest, the spirits that befriend him are numerous 
 as the leaves on those trees. It has been said by infidels that 
 the spirit of the New Testament unnerves the soldiers on the 
 battle-field. The reverse is the truth if the soldiers are in 
 a righteous conflict. The pulpit arms them for their duty. 
 The prayer of the chaplain dispels their fear. Their con- 
 science assures them that virtue will prevail at last, and that 
 guardian angels, if need be, will combat on their side. 
 
 A guilty conscience is the occasion of new vices. " Tlie 
 
288 CONSCTENCE. 
 
 wicked flee when no man pursueth, but the righteous are 
 bold as a lion." ^ Bishop Patrick in his comment on this 
 Proverb says : " An evil conscience makes men timorous 
 and cowardly, like a faint-hearted soldier who runs away at 
 the appearance of an enemy, and never so much as looks 
 back to see whether he pursue him." When soldiers have 
 a reproving conscience " the sound of a shaken leaf shall 
 chase them." ^ As the man who has no peace in the domes- 
 tic circle is driven for refuge to the haunts of vice, so he who 
 has no peace in his own bosom is apt to become an outcast in 
 morals. The Bible describes such men as " past feeling," 
 "self-condemned," their "mind and conscience are defiled," 
 ' they bear a brand on their own conscience,' " the brand, 
 the stigma, which marks them as debased. On the night 
 when a thousand lords were assembled, and the sackbut and 
 the dulcimer were regaling the ear, and the choicest viands 
 were pressing down the tables, and the golden and silver 
 vessels from Jerusalem were brought in to grace the feast, 
 there appeared, as if to crown the whole, an opening upon 
 the plaster of the wall, and that beautiful piece of mechanism, 
 a man's hand, came through, and wrote words full of liquid 
 sounds. And why were not all pleased with the delightful 
 exhibition ? Adam in Paradise would have been pleased 
 with it. Why did the lords overthrow their tables, and rush 
 over each other from the scene ? Why do we read the signifi- 
 cant words : " The king's countenance was changed, and his 
 thoughts troubled him, so that the joints of his loins were 
 loosed, and his knees smote one against another " ? * The 
 sweetest wine at a banquet is a good conscience : but a sense 
 of guilt will turn cordials into wormwood, and a man's hand 
 or an unmeaning word, soft as " mene, mene," will discom- 
 pose kings and nobles. If we wish a friend who will stand 
 by our side at the hour of peril, whose very features will 
 cheer us by their moral beauty, let us look for one who has a 
 
 ^ Prov. xxviii. 1. ^ Lev. xxvi. 17, 36. 
 
 »Eph. iv. 19; Titas i. 15; iii. 11 ; 1 Tim. iv. 2. * Dan. v. 1-9. 
 
CONSCIENCE. 289 
 
 sustaining sense of rectitude, " a pure conscience," a " good 
 conscience," " a conscience void of offence," ' a conscience 
 cleansed from dead works bj the blood of Christ,' ' a heart 
 sprinkled from an evil conscience.' ^ His thoughts revolve 
 in a circle of which the central point is the atoning sacrifice, 
 and the radii of the circle are the beams of the divine glory, 
 and along these radiant lines his love and faith are ever at- 
 tracted to the centre of his peace and joj. He will not be 
 terrified by the remembrance of his sins ; for the cross has 
 manifested the divine displacency toward them, and has re- 
 moved the necessity that he endure the remorse which justice 
 once required. His conscience testifies that the King who 
 ' bore the sins of men in his own body on the tree ' deserves 
 to be rewarded with a crown of which penitent men are the 
 jewels. On that tree the law and the justice and the holiness 
 of God were honored as much as they could have been 
 honored by the penalties which they had threatened. There- 
 fore the divine conscience and the human conscience are 
 satisfied, while the threatened woes do not fall upon the 
 believer. Therefore " the chamber where the good man meets 
 his fate " is the scene where conscience, purified by the 
 Redeemer's sacrifice, displays her most benignant power and 
 makes him the most magnanimous, brave, and happy man. 
 In the most perilous den the believer need not fear, for his 
 Redeemer has stopped the mouth of the lions. In the heated 
 furnace he goes unharmed, because the Son of God goes with 
 him. " Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow 
 of death, I will fear no evil ; for thou art with me ; thy rod 
 and thy staff they comfort me." Even when his reason has 
 forsaken him, and he is left to breathe out his life in the 
 dreariness of insanity, conscience will often fly into the 
 deserted halls, and like the nightingale will cheer the dark- 
 ness with her glad tune. And if this be the joy of a good 
 man through his hour of suffering, what shall be his triumph 
 
 1 Acts xxiv. 16; 1 Tim. i. 5,19; iii. 9; 2 Tim. i. 3; Ileb. ix. 14; x. 22; 
 xiii. 18; 1 Pet. iii. 16, 21. 
 
290 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 in heaven ? And if the conscience of a saint will pour floods 
 of peace through his system, what conception shall we form 
 of the conscience of an angel ? And if we are baffled in our 
 attempts to imagine the ecstasies of a seraph's joy, how does 
 the restless fancj sink down exhausted when it has aspired 
 after one glimpse of the happiness of God, — the Creator who 
 is indebted for his excellence to no other being, and to whom 
 all other beings are indebted for all the excellence they pos- 
 sess ; the infinite mind, whose conscience is infinite in strength 
 and compass, and requires that his character be loved with 
 supreme love because this love is strictly deserved, and 
 cannot be withheld without absolute injustice. If a man is 
 made stable by his assurance of being in the right, God who 
 is ever in the right must be immutable ! If a man is saved 
 from slavish fear because he has returned to the path marked 
 out by his conscience, then God who has never once deviated 
 from the way prescribed by an infinite conscience must be 
 an independent Sovereign ! If in a believer's heart there is 
 a fountain of peace, then in Jehovah there must be an ocean 
 of blessedness ! 
 
 But here occurs one thought, the most marvellous, per- 
 haps, that ever entered the human mind : There has been 
 one exception to this great law of conscience, and it has 
 perplexed the wise and prudent of the world, and has been 
 revealed to babes. The most vigorous conscience that man 
 ever possessed was once unable to give its possessor his 
 rightful gladness of heart. When he was encompassed with 
 sorrows, and his visage more marred than the sons of men, 
 his conscience came to his rescue, plied all its energies, 
 greater than any human energies, and worked to the last 
 without giving an emotion of joy. As an eagle spreadeth 
 abroad her wings and fluttereth over her young, and would 
 fain bear them up, so conscience would have cheered the 
 spirit of the Sufferer, as he was lifted between heaven and 
 earth, and forsaken of both. She pointed him to the demo- 
 
CONSCIENCE. 291 
 
 niacs he had tamed, and the sick he had healed ; she brought 
 forward the woman that had been bowed down with an 
 infirmity, and was now standing erect before him. The 
 newly married i)air from Cana cam3 and smiled upon him. 
 At the summons of his conscience all those whom lie had 
 raised from the dead hastened to greet him. Jairus led for- 
 ward his blooming daughter to grace the halls of his memory. 
 That only son who rose from the funeral bier to comfort his 
 w^idowed mother rose up now to comfort his and her friend. 
 Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary, presented himself, 
 — and "behold how he loved him." Each brought a cup of 
 blessing for him, but when he had tasted of their consolations 
 he would not drink. "I thirst," he cried, "It is finished" ; 
 and he yielded up the ghost without giving a single sign of 
 a single emotion of joy. Surely if conscience has power, it 
 must have cheered that man of sorrows, or else he could not 
 have had the sorrows of a mere man. It must be that his 
 conscience was called to unheard-of toils, and to wrestle with 
 principalities and powers of evil, or it had not been foiled of 
 its high prerogative to cheer the guiltless soul. It must be 
 that the comfort, flowing from the recollections of a life so 
 beautiful in being so well spent as his, was refused by him in 
 order that when we bear our daily cross we may be filled 
 with joy at the thought of his grace, rather than with remorse 
 at the thouglit of our guilt. It must be that he bore our 
 sins and took upon him our iniquities in order that our con- 
 science may be lighted up with smiles, and may stand by our 
 death-bed as an angel holding up the lamp of hope, and veri- 
 fying the words of the scientist : " Conscience is a sparkle of 
 the purity of man's first estate, and therefore will never die 
 away, but by the grace of Heaven shall be fanned into a flame 
 that shall ever cause the redeemed to shine even as the stars 
 that smile upon us from on high." 
 
292 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 I^TOTES. 
 
 Note A, to Page 261. 
 
 In this discourse the word " conscience " is explained in accordance 
 with its predominant use in the writings of English and American 
 philosophers and preachers. " Of late years, and by the best writers, 
 the term conscience, and the phrases moral faculty, moral judgment, 
 faculty of moral perception, moral sense, susceptibility of moral 
 emotion, have all been applied to that faculty or combination of 
 faculties by which we have ideas of right and wrong in reference ta 
 actions, and correspondent feelings of approbation and disapproba- 
 tion." (See Calderwood's edition of Fleming's Vocabulary of Phi- 
 losophy, pp. 102-104.) What Dr. Fleming calls a "combination" 
 may be called an "assemblage of various powers and sensibilities," 
 with their appropriate impulses. See " The Works of Joseph Butler, 
 LL.D.," Vol. i. p. 340, ii. p. 53 (Cambridge ed.), 1827 ; " Works 
 of Dr. Thomas Reid" (Hamilton's edition). Vol. ii. pp. 594, 592 ; 
 - Works of Dugald Stewart," Vol. v. pp. 160, 161, Vol. iii. pp. 
 423-434. 
 
 Note B, to Page 264. 
 
 Throughout this eleventh sermon the well known distinction is 
 made between the nature of the merit belonging to our holiness and 
 of the demerit belonging to our sin. The merit is the merit of 
 congruity, the demerit is the demerit of condignity. Conscience 
 perceives that our right acts deserve no reward, in the full and strict 
 sense of desert, when they are viewed as the payment of a just debt 
 antecedently due to our Creator, Preserver, Benefactor, and Moral 
 Governor. As he has qualified us to perform the right acts, and 
 loaded us with favors for which we owe him allegiance, he is 
 under no obligation in retributive justice to reward that allegiance. 
 On the other hand, conscience perceives that our wrong acts deserve 
 a punishment not only when they are viewed as simply wrong, but 
 also when they are viewed as refusals to pay the just debt antecedently 
 due to our Creator, Preserver, Benefactor, and Moral Governor, 
 
CONSCIENCE. 293 
 
 As he has endued us with all our powers, he has a just claim that 
 they be devoted entirely to him, and we have no claim on his retri- 
 butive justice for a reward. Our right acts would have fully and 
 strictly deserved a reward if they had been perfect, and had not 
 been previously due as payments of a just debt, but as our Moral 
 Governor has merely loaned us our powers in order that we may 
 use them for his service, we can fully and strictly deserve no reward 
 for paying him what we owe (See Luke xvii. 7-10). The cele- 
 brated Unitarian divine, Rev. James Martineau, has vividly expressed 
 the truth that acts of obedience to God do not on the whole deserve, 
 so as to justly claim, a reward from him. Dr. Martineau says: 
 " Christianity annihilates merit, not by reducing obligation to nothing, 
 but by raising it to infinitude." " It renders it impossible for our 
 performance .ever to overlap and exceed the [divine] claims upon 
 
 our will All good that is not impossible is a thing now due, 
 
 and is to be performed, not like eye service unto men, but as to 
 
 God Beyond his acknowledged rights we can never go so as 
 
 deserve anything of him The successive moments as they 
 
 pass are the counters of his [God's] constant payment, which we 
 can neither reckon nor refuse, but only hasten to seize and to employ. 
 And so it is impossible for us ever to overtake his advances. With 
 our fastest speed they fly before us still, like the shadow which his 
 light behind us casts, only lengthening as we go, till it stretches over 
 the brink of time and covers the abyss of eternity." "• Endeavors 
 after the Christian Life," pp. 362, 363 (Am. ed.), 1876. 
 
 These remarks answer the question why, on pages 279-285 no 
 mention is made of our right acts as affording a proof of the existence 
 of God, and of the future existence of man ; and why our wrong 
 acts are mentioned as prompting a belief in those doctrines. The 
 sermon implies that all acts which are entitled on the ground of their 
 intrinsic and independent merit to be recompensed must receive their 
 just recompense. Such are the acts of the God-man (Seep. 179). 
 As, however, the acts of mere men, and especially of men who have 
 been sinners, are not intrinsically and independently meritorious, 
 our conscience does not recognize them as making a demand on 
 retributive justice for a reward. Therefore in this relation they 
 do not necessitate a belief in the divine existence and in human 
 immortality. 
 
294 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 Note C, to Page 265. 
 
 The seventh exercise of conscience is differently expressed by 
 different authors. By some it is said to be a belief or expectation 
 or fear that the deserved punishment will be inflicted. By others 
 it is said to be the stimulating of the mind to believe, expect, or fear 
 that the punishment will follow the sin. If there be a fear there is 
 some degree of expectation, and if there be any degree of expectation 
 there is some degree of belief. Bishop Butler seems to prefer the 
 word " anticipate " to the word " expect." After alluding to the 
 sentence of conscience against iniquity, he says that conscience " if 
 not forcibly stopped, naturally and always of course goes on to 
 anticipate a higher and more effectual sentence which shall hereafter 
 second and affirm its own" (Works, Vol. ii. p. 53, Am. ed. 1827). 
 Dr. Thomas Reid says that a man who has done wrong" " is conscious 
 of demerit, and cannot avoid the dread of meeting with its reward " 
 (" Hamilton's Reid," Vol. ii. p. 594). Dugald Stewart says : " The 
 feelings of remorse which accompany the consciousness of guilt, in- 
 volve, in like manner, a sense of ill-desert and an anticipation of 
 future punishment" (Works, Vol. iii. p. 432, Am. ed.). In popular 
 literature we see the condemning conscience described as the light- 
 ning which forebodes the thunder; as the avant courier pre-announcing 
 the final Judge. 
 
 Note D, to Page 270. 
 
 It is not necessary to suppose that a distinct volition precedes 
 every distinct movement of the fingers and the vocal organs of the 
 musician. Some suppose that many of these movements are auto- 
 matic, either in the sense of being performed by the mysterious 
 power of the brain working independently of the will, or by the 
 equally mysterious power of habit working on the nervous system 
 without mental interference. Others suppose that the musician 
 puts forth a distinct but unconscious volition for every physical move- 
 ment, and that at some future time each volition may possibly be 
 called up from the plane of unconsciousness, and he may be conscious 
 of remembering the acts which he had not been conscious of per- 
 forming. In this country a more common theory has been that, for 
 instance, the musician puts forth a distinct and conscious volition for 
 every distinct movement of his muscles, but forgets the larger part 
 
CONSCIENCE. 295 
 
 of his volitions as soon as they have been performed. A modificatioii 
 of this theory is, that he puts forth a distinct volition for everv 
 distinct series of connected movements, but not for every one of the 
 movements. There are many reasons in favor of this modification. 
 
 Note E, to Page 274. 
 
 There are hundreds of instances appi-oximating more or less 
 nearly to those given above, and proving that the soul will some- 
 times call to mind those of its acts which were forgotten soon after 
 they were performed, and which had remained utterly forgotten 
 during a period of ten, twenty, or thirty years. In regard to the 
 narrative alluded to on page 273, Mr. S. T. Coleridge remarks : 
 
 " This authenticated case furnishes both proof and instance that 
 reliques of sensation may exist for an indefinite time in a latent 
 state, in the very same order in which they were originally impressed ; 
 and as we cannot rationally suppose the feverish state of the brain 
 to act in any other way than as a stimulus, this fact (and it would 
 not be difficult to adduce several of the same kind) contributes to 
 make it even probable that all thoughts are in themselves imperish- 
 able ; and that if the intelligent faculty should be rendered more 
 comprehensive, it would require only a different and apportioned 
 organization, the body celestial instead of the body terrestrial, to bring 
 before every human soul the collective experience of its whole past 
 existence. And this, this, perchance, is the dread book of judgment, 
 in the mysterious hieroglyphics of which every idle word is recorded ! 
 Yea, in the very nature of a living spirit, it may be more possible 
 that heaven and earth should pass away than that a single act, a 
 single thought, should be loosened or lost from that living chain of 
 causes, with all the links of which, conscious or unconscious, the 
 free-will, our only absolute self, is co-extensive and co-present. But 
 not now dare I longer discourse of this, waiting for a loftier mood 
 and a nobler subject, warned from within and from without that it is 
 profanation to speak of these mysteries ' to those to whose imagina- 
 tion it has never been presented how beautiful is the countenance of 
 justice and wisdom ; and that neither the morning nor the evening star 
 is so fair. For in order to direct the view aright it behooves that 
 the beholder should have made himself congenerous and similar to 
 the object beheld. Never could the eye have beheld the sun, had 
 
296 CONbCIENCE. 
 
 not its own essence been soliform [i.e. preconfigured to light by a 
 similarity of essence with that of light] neither can a soul not 
 beautiful attain to an intuition of beauty ' " (" The Complete "Works 
 of Samuel Taylor Coleridge," Vol. iii. pp. 230, 231, Am. ed.). The 
 quotation in the last ten lines is given by the editor in Greek from 
 Plotinus (Enn. L, Lib. vi. ss. 4 and 9). For the opinions of philoso- 
 phers on the rapidity of mental action see (among other works) 
 Locke's " Essay on the Human Understanding," chap. ix. ; Dugald 
 Stewart's " Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind," chap, 
 ii. ; Sir William Hamilton's " Lectures on Metaphysics and Logic," 
 Lecture xviii. 
 
XII. 
 
 mnUENCES AFFECTING TEE CHARACTER OF 
 CHRIST CONSIDERED AS A MAN. 
 
 LUKE II. 62. 
 AJTD JXS0B ADVAITOBD IH VTISDOII AITD STATURE, AND ITX FAVOB ■WTTH OOD AND SIEIT. 
 
 In the Old Testament we read that "the child Samuel 
 grew on, and was in favor both with the Lord, and also with 
 men." In the New Testament we read that the child " Jesus 
 advanced in favor with God and men." In his first chapter 
 Luke informs us of John the Baptist that " the child grew, 
 and waxed strong in spirit." In his second chapter he in- 
 forms us of Jesus the Redeemer, " and the child grew, and 
 waxed strong." Such coincidences of style contain volumes 
 of thought. They illustrate the truth that our Redeemer was 
 once a real and proper child ; he thought as a child, he felt 
 as a child, he acted as a child, he was ignorant, he learned, 
 and he remembered as a child ; he did not take hold of 
 angels, but he took hold of men, the seed of Abraham; 
 " wherefore it behoved him in all tilings to be made like 
 unto his brethren." As he grew in stature and made 
 progress in knowledge, so he advanced in virtue. Knowledge 
 and virtue are wisdom. Wisdom is sure to gain the favor 
 of God, and is apt in the final event to gain the favor of 
 man. " And," says our text, " Jesus advanced in wisdom 
 and stature, and in favor with God and men." Ilcnce we 
 learn that he was educated. We infer that he was educated 
 not merely during his childhood, but also during his man- 
 
298 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 hood. As his character was formed, so t must have been 
 formed by some influences. What were the forces that 
 shaped his mental and moral course ? We do not know all 
 the powers by which his spirit was affected ; but we may 
 detect some of them ; and it is the aim of the present dis- 
 course to consider a few of the external influences that 
 formed the character of the man Christ Jesus. 
 
 Before we name these influences, we may allude to the fact 
 that persons whose minds are engrossed with the thought 
 of Christ's divinity are indisposed to hear of his needing to 
 be educated. They forget that although he was God, yet ho 
 was also man, as truly the Son as the Lord of David, as 
 truly needing to be nourished by spiritual food in order that 
 he might grow in wisdom as he needed to be nourished by 
 material food in order that he might grow in stature.^ We 
 may also allude to the fact that persons whose minds are 
 absorbed with the thought of Christ's humanity are slow to 
 accept the intimations of his being mentally superior in his 
 early life to his companions. These men fail to recognize 
 the influence of his moral perfection upon his intellectual 
 power. They forget that the mental dulness of our race 
 arises, in large part, from sensuality, and that the mind of 
 Jesus was never benumbed by a disordered appetite. They 
 forget that the intellect is weakened by indolence and its 
 kindred habits, is confused by ambition, envy, jealousy, and 
 their associated impulses, but the intellect of Jesus was un- 
 trammelled by any form of selfishness. His virtue was not 
 a mere freedom from sin, but was a positive, energetic holi- 
 ness. As his perception of truth was never blurred by seK- 
 indulgence, so it was brightened by seK-denial. When we 
 reflect on the soporific power of some vices and the mis- 
 guiding power of others : on the stimulating power of some 
 virtues, and the regulative power of others, we find it difficult 
 to imagine the rapidity of a man's progress in knowledge 
 
 ' See Note A, at the end of the sermon. 
 
INFLI7ENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 290 
 
 when he has never been stupefied nor misled by any form 
 of sin, but has been animated and directed by every form of 
 holiness.' We should not overestimate the biblical hints of 
 Christ's early elevation above his companions, neither should 
 we underestimate them ; still, it is less philosophical to 
 underrate than to overrate them. The influence of perfect 
 holiness upon the intellect would lead us to conjecture not 
 that he made smaller attainments in knowledge, but that he 
 made larger attainments than we have positive, historical 
 proof of his having made. It would predispose us to inter- 
 pret the biblical intimations upward as pointing to his mental 
 pre-eminence, rather than to interpret them downward as 
 pointing to his mental mediocrity. To presume that his im- 
 maculate virtue made him strong, when we have no decisive, 
 historical evidence of his weakness, is less illogical than to 
 presume that his virtue left him weak, when we have no 
 decisive, historical evidence that he was strong. Instead of 
 limiting our view, as in this discourse we do limit it, to the 
 influences out of himself which made him what he was, we 
 miglit profitably extend our view to the influence of his own 
 free-will, which made his intellect bright and vigorous. His 
 heart educated liis mind ; his moral excellence clarified his 
 intuitions. To him that hath true holiness shall be given 
 clear knowledge. But in this discourse we are to consider 
 not so much the forces which worked upon him from witliin, 
 as the forces which worked upon him from without, and con- 
 tributed to the formation of his human character. 
 
 In the first place, his character was affected by the familiar 
 occupations and arts of men. Our common employments 
 
 1 Some biblical critics appear to think that the opinions of tiic man Christ 
 Jesus in regard to tiie literature of the Pentateuch, of the Psalms, etc, are not 
 more important than the opinions of men educated as modern scholars arc. But 
 his opinions were formed under the influence of a perfect will which pave to his 
 intellect a perspicacity unknown to modern scholars. The unparalleled health- 
 fulncss of his moral feelings must have given an unparalleled quickness and 
 clearness to his intuitions. 
 
300 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 may associate themselves with a religious or a worldly train 
 of thought. The will may cherish their hallowed suggestions, 
 and thus make the habit of mind a pious one ; or it may 
 favor their secular associations, and thus draw away the heart 
 from the channel of virtue. A volume might be written on 
 the ease and naturalness with which our Lord rose from the 
 material to the spiritual. He prized the former as illustrating 
 the latter. He seldom mentioned either the facts of science 
 or of history, except for the purpose of giving point to some 
 moral truth. 
 
 A modern traveller through Palestine pitched his tent by 
 the side of an ancient wine-press. He writes : ' On the upper 
 side of a ledge of rocks a shallow vat had been dug out, 
 eight feet square and fifteen inches deep ; on the lower side 
 of the rock another vat had been excavated, four feet square 
 by three feet deep. The grapes were trodden in the large 
 upper vat, the juice drawn off through a passage still re- 
 maining into the small lower vat ; and such is its state of 
 preservation that were there now grapes in the vicinity, this 
 ancient wine-press might at once be brought into use without 
 repair.' This was an interesting scene ; and what reflections 
 does the writer append ? First, this proves that the adjacent 
 hills were once covered with vineyards ; secondly, it would 
 Ijc worth much to transport this ancient relic, just as it is, to 
 London. These reflections were not inappropriate ; they 
 were not useless. But what were our Saviour's reflections ? 
 Perhaps he looked upon this identical wine-press. Perhaps 
 at a wine-press just like this he learned to illustrate the 
 goodness of Jehovah, sending his own servants to the spir- 
 itual vineyard which he had planted ; the criminality of men 
 who beat one of tlic Lord's ministers, and stoned a second, 
 and killed a third ; the grace of the Most High in providing 
 an atonement for those murderous husbandmen ; the ingrati- 
 tude of the persevering vine-dressers, who exclaimed, " This 
 is tlie heir; come, let us kill him" ; the justice of God, who 
 will miserably destroy those wicked men. "This is the 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 301 
 
 Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes." ^ So did the 
 Saviour ascend from the receptacle of the grapes and the 
 wine to the mysteries of atoning love. And so was his 
 character formed. 
 
 A tourist, passing a few days at Nazareth in the month of 
 June, and finding the summer's heat intolerable in his tent, 
 accepted an invitation to make his abode with a resident of 
 the city. ' Here,' says the tourist, ' we found the rooms of 
 stone much cooler than our tent. In order to lay the 
 foundations of the house, the builder had dug down to the 
 solid rock to the depth of thirty feet.' It is the common 
 usage at Nazareth to excavate the foundations until the rock 
 underlying the earth is reached, and then to build up arches 
 on the hard stone. This was the ancient custom. Jesus, 
 having been a carpenter at Nazareth, and the son of a 
 carpenter, was often called to notice this identical method 
 of constructing an edifice. It may have suggested to his 
 brothers who worked with him nothing more than an in- 
 genious piece of handicraft. They had not his spiritual 
 industry. At some time or other, it connected itself in his 
 mind with the secure position of men who build their faith 
 on the spiritual corner-stone, and the insecurity of men who 
 slight this rock of ages, and who, without a foundation, liave 
 built upon the earth, and the rains descend, and the floods 
 come, and the winds blow and beat upon the house, and it 
 falls, and the ruin of that house is great.^ 
 
 If a friend of his mother had lost one of lier ten coins, 
 each not more than fifteen cents in value, the anxious matron 
 would have lighted a candle, and swept her house, and 
 searched diligently in all the dark cracks of the floor ; and 
 as soon as it glistened in her eye she would have sent word 
 to his mother and all the neighboring families : ' Rejoice 
 with me, for I have found the drachma which was lost.' 
 The other guests at that festival of gratitude might have 
 thought of nothing beyond the sudden exhilaration of the 
 
 i Matt. xxi. 33-42. ^ Luke vi. 47-49 ; Matt. vii. 24-27. 
 
302 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 woman. But the meditative guest at that joyful table had 
 meat to eat which the others knew not of. He would have 
 treasured up in his heart a memento of the scientific fact 
 that the loss of anything fastens the mind on the value of 
 that particular thing, and a coin when repossessed is thought 
 of more than nine equal coins that have never been out of 
 the family purse. This mental phenomenon would have 
 elevated his soul to the moral truth that when a man who was 
 lost is found, when he had gone astray on the mountains of 
 sin, but has now come back to his Father's house, there is 
 joy among the very angels of God. The missing of a 
 small coin, the wandering of a single sheep on the plain of 
 Esdraelon, was not a trifle nor a mere economical event 
 to our great Teacher, but a spiritual stimulus, raising his 
 mind into the sublimity of the presence of the very spirits 
 of heaven. 
 
 When the child stood with his sisters around their mother, 
 and saw her put the little leaven into her thirty quarts of 
 meal, he was learning to illustrate tlie truth of God, which 
 would penetrate the entire mass of humanity, and make it 
 fresh and elastic and healthful. When he gazed upon the 
 ploughman making straight furrows in the field, and there- 
 fore not looking behind him, that plough turned up for him 
 a symbol of the truth that no man starting on a Christian 
 life and looking back is fit for the kingdom of God. When 
 he watched the farmer scattering the seeds over tlie fresh 
 soil, and the birds of the air alighting on the ground as soon 
 as the seeds were planted, his mind garnered up for itself 
 illustrations of the word, which bringeth forth thirty, sixty, 
 a hundred-fold. When he saw two women sitting down in 
 the field, and grinding corn at their hand-mill, he caught 
 the inspiration of the scene, and noted the sovereign grace 
 which takes one sinner and leaves another. So did he inter- 
 lace the homely pursuits of life with processes of pious 
 reflection. He took tlic form of a servant that lie might 
 learn wisdom from the menial lalxjrs of the house and the 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 303 
 
 field, and might view all the handiwork of men and women 
 as inwrought with secular and sacred science. 
 
 Secondly, the character of the man Christ Jesus was in 
 some degree moulded by the influences of nature. He made 
 the skies his educators. He made the sunsets his books. He 
 put himself into a religious school when he ascended a hill-top, 
 and stood there, a devout and reverent observer of physical 
 phenomena. The village of Nazareth, where our Lord spent 
 the first thirty years of his life, was " shut in on all sides by 
 fourteen swelling eminences on the circling mountains." 
 'It therefore did not furnish him with ample prospects of 
 the fields and the seas. But a walk of a few minutes would 
 afford him a magnificent panorama.' Lamartine, the French 
 revolutionist, describing his ascent to one of the eminences 
 above Nazareth, has written : ' God alone knows what passed 
 in my heart on that hill. By a spontaneous, and as it were 
 an involuntary, movement, I found myself on my knees at 
 the feet of my horse. I remained, I suppose, several minutes 
 in silent contemplation, wherein all the thoughts of my life, 
 as a sceptic or as a Christian, rushed upon me with such 
 confusion that it was impossible to class them. These words 
 alone escaped my lips : " And the Word was made flesh, 
 and dwelt among us."' What Lamartine saw on these 
 mountains we suppose that Christ had often seen on these 
 same mountains. What this French traveller there recalled 
 as a truth of history Christ may have prepared himself on 
 these same mountains to foresee as a truth of prophecy. 
 ' From these very hill-tops,' says another tourist, ' the Prince 
 of Peace doubtless looked down upon the great plain of 
 Esdraelon, where the din of battles so oft had rolled, and 
 the garments of the warrior had been dyed in blood ; and lie 
 looked out upon the Mediterranean Sea, over which the swift 
 ships were to bear the tidings of his salvation to nations and 
 to fjontinents then unknown.' From these very hill-tops had 
 he looked upon Tabor, Carmel, Hermon, Gilboa, — some of 
 
304 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 them surmounted with whitewashed villages, — and he learned 
 to say : ' Good men are a city set upon a hill.' From these 
 very summits had he beheld the lightning coming out of the 
 east and shining even unto the west ; " so shall the coming 
 of the Son of man be." From these very hill-tops had he 
 watched the clouds as they moved in expressive majesty 
 across the skies ; so, he learned to say, ' shall all the tribes 
 of the earth mourn when they shall see the Son of man 
 commg in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory.' 
 He made the flames his ministers, brightening religious 
 truth. If he noticed a meteor, he treasured it up in his 
 mind : ' So,' he afhrms, ' I beheld Satan as lightning fall 
 from heaven.' If he saw the eagles wheeling around the 
 crags of the mountains, and alighting upon some lifeless 
 prey, he learned to paint his enemies as the loathsome car- 
 cass, and around them shall the eagles of the justice of God 
 be gathered together. 
 
 Nor does he disdain to educate himself by the most ordi- 
 nary incidents. "As I was riding across the plain of Akka" 
 in Palestine, says a traveller, and many recent travellers 
 have witnessed the same, " I perceived what seemed to be a 
 little forest or nursery of trees. I found it to be a forest of 
 the mr.stard plant, in full blossom. As I stood and wondered 
 at the size of the plant, one of the fowls of heaven stopped 
 in its flight through the air, alighted on one of its branches, 
 which hardly moved beneath the shock, and then began, 
 perched there before my eyes, to warble forth a strain of 
 the richest music." That beautiful scene was, we presume, 
 presented often to the eye of Jesus, and it was a lecture on 
 the pure religion. His truth was limited then to a small 
 company, was like to a grain of mustard seed, which indeed 
 is the least of all seeds; but this narrow limit shall be 
 passed, and ' this seed when it is grown shall be greater than 
 the herbs and become a tree, so that the birds of the air shall 
 come and lodge in the branches thereof.' ^ Not in vain did 
 
 1 Matt. xiii. 31, 32. 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 305 
 
 he listen to the blowing of the wind ; that was a symbol of 
 the regenerating Spirit. Not in vain did he look out upon 
 the harvest of wheat and tares ; that was a sign of the great 
 and fearful harvest of souls, and the reapers arc the angels. 
 Not in vain did he gaze at the vine as it clambered up the 
 terrace ; that was a memento of the joys of spiritual brother- 
 hood. Not in vain did he look at the foxes fleeing to their 
 retreats among old ruins or in tombs, nor at the birds of 
 of the air adjusting themselves cheerfully in their nests ; 
 even they imaged forth the atoning love of him who had not 
 where to lay his head. Not in vain did he note the hen 
 gathering her chickens under her wings ; that was a picture 
 of the frailty and the peril of his foes, and of his own readi- 
 ness to guide and guard them. The hen, the field bird, the 
 fox, pictured out the many-sided glories of him who used the 
 greatest as well as the least of the very orbs of heaven to 
 shadow forth his excellence, and exclaimed : " As long as I 
 am in the world, I am the light of the world." 
 
 Thirdly, the character of the man Christ Jesus was formed 
 by his familiarity with the Holy Scriptures. If the son of 
 Eunice and the grandson of Lois had when a child been 
 instructed in these Scriptures,^ much more may we suppose 
 that the Son of Mary was thus instructed. The children of 
 pious Jews became familiar in their schools with suggestive 
 passages in the Levitical law. As this instruction was given 
 to other children, we may well suppose that it was given to 
 him who was to be the end of the law for righteousness.*'^ 
 He probably had access to a copy of the Old Testament in 
 the synagogue at Nazareth. Certain parts of tliis Testament 
 may have been owned in his father's house. There are some 
 reasons for supposing that the whole of it was kept there. 
 He may have been attracted to it by his interest in the 
 scenes of nature. The man who has a wholesome love for 
 
 1 2 Tim. iii. 14, 15 ; Acts xvi. 1 ; 2 Tim. i. 5. 
 '^ liom. X. 4 ; Matt. v. 17, 18 ; Gal. iii. 24. 
 
306 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 thes(3 scenes gains a quickened attachment to the divine 
 word. A traveller in Palestine can find no book so useful 
 and fascinating as the Bible for directing and illustrating 
 his journey. 
 
 ' As I was leaving Nazareth,' says a tourist, ' and surveying 
 the majestic scenery which had so often attracted the gaze 
 of the Redeemer, I felt how natural was the Psalmist's per- 
 sonification ; his language springs spontaneously to the lips : 
 " The north and the south, thou hast created them ; Tabor 
 and Hermon shall rejoice in thy name." ' The same tourist, 
 when near the garden of Gethsemane, ' saw at a little dis- 
 tance a shepherd engaged in shearing one of his flock. The 
 animal lay stretched before him on the ground, submitting 
 without resistance or complaint to the operation he was per- 
 forming. It seemed as if every movement of the shears 
 would lacerate the flesh ; the feet were bound ; the man's 
 knees were pressed rudely against the sides of the helpless 
 captive. This posture, so irksome, had to be endured for a 
 considerable time before the ample fleece was removed. 
 Yet, during it all, it was wonderful to observe how patient 
 the creature remained. It struggled not, opened not its 
 mouth.' ^ Can there be any doubt that Jesus when a youth 
 often gazed at a similar spectacle ? When he observed it 
 may he not have pondered again and again on these sugges- 
 tive words, " He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and 
 as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not 
 his mouth " ? Every timid lamb may have reminded this 
 thoughtful boy of the legal sacrifices, and may have pre- 
 pared him to hear the words of his forerunner, " Behold the 
 Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world." 
 
 A child feels a natural interest in the story of his fore- 
 fathers, and especially if their names have become illustrious. 
 From his earliest boyhood, then, our Lord must have been 
 
 1 In 1870, near the time which is observed as the anniversary of the Saviour's 
 deaih, and near the very spot where he is sup])oscd to have suffered on the even- 
 ing before his death, I witnessed a scene almost exactly like that which is 
 described above. 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. SOT 
 
 attracted to the volume which was oikj shining record of his 
 own progenitors. These progenitors were traced with pre- 
 cision through men and women whose exploits were fitted to 
 excite the enthusiasm of children. 
 
 At the present day, when travellers visit the old city of 
 Bethel they wander to the rising ground not far from the 
 scene of Jacob's vision, and identify the very spot where 
 Abraham parted from his friend, and wdiere the modern, 
 like the ancient, travellers ' lift up their eyes and behold all 
 the plain of Jordan, that it is well watered everywhere.' ^ 
 If Jesus ever walked over those acres must he not have 
 received a new impulse to reperuse the narrative of his 
 progenitors, one of whom had the memorable vision at 
 Bethel, and the other rejoiced to see the day of Christ, and 
 saw it, and was glad ? 
 
 Describing his approach to the birthplace of the Redeemer, 
 an American tourist writes : ' I came to Bethlehem at the 
 time of the beginning of the barley harvest. This was the 
 exact time when Naomi with her daughter-in-law arrived at 
 this same city from the land of Moab ; and here were the 
 very fields, still cultivated in the same manner, in which 
 Ruth [an ancestor of our Lord] gleaned after the reapers of 
 Boaz. "We met the Bethlehem shepherds on the road, leading 
 out their flocks to the neighboring hills. It was among these 
 hills that David, the young shepherd of Bethlehem, spent his 
 youth, watching his father's flocks. And here, perhaps, he 
 composed the twenty-third Psalm : " The Lord is my shep- 
 herd, I shall not want." ' When our Redeemer visited 
 Bethlehem,^ where himself and his ancestor the pride of 
 
 1 See Gen. xiii. 8-13 
 
 '■^ It is natural to presume that while our Lord was sojourning in the vicinity 
 of Jerusalem he walked over to Bethlehem, still we are not expressly informed 
 that he did so. We presume, hut we are not expressly told, that he visited 
 Hebron, so famous in Jewish history. The New Testament more than any 
 other book excites our interest in questions of mere geography, chronology, 
 biography, etc., but does not distinctly aim either to excite or to gratify this 
 interest. The aim of the New Testament is to point out the way of salvation 
 by the cross of Christ. The book depresses all other subjects in order to make 
 
308 IKFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 Israel were boru, these fields were cultivated in the same 
 way, and the shepherds then as now retained their old usages. 
 If these scenes remind a modern American so vividly of the 
 Old Testament, must they not have refreshed the mind of 
 Jesus with reminiscences of the same book, that book of his 
 family annals, that book which pointed to him, which was 
 valuable for his sake ? It was his family Bible. He learned 
 his rights from that family record. He reasoned from it. 
 He was familiar with its grammatical niceties.^ He seems 
 to have learned large portions of it by heart. It gratifies 
 our love of old things and of old times to know that we and 
 our children hold in our hands the same writings which filled 
 so sacred a place in training the youthful Nazarene ; and 
 that he imposes on us no other duty than he imposed on 
 himself when he said, ' Search the Scriptures, for it is they 
 that testify of me.' 
 
 Fourthly, the character of the man Christ Jesus was 
 moulded by his private and public worship of God. This 
 worship elevates and expands the intellect. It enriches and 
 ennobles the sensibilities. We suppose that from his early 
 childhood the son of Mary received high and stimulating 
 ideas in his private converse witli his Father in heaven. " He 
 went up into the mountain to pray." " He continued all 
 night in prayer." ' In the days of his flesh he offered up 
 prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears.' 
 He had disciplined himself to such prolonged and regular 
 devotions that when the troubles of the garden came upon 
 him it was a second nature for him to exclaim : " Sit ye here 
 
 this one subject prominent. Here is a sign of its inspiration. It awakens our 
 curiosity in regard to incidental themes by the interest which it awakens in the 
 great theme of Christ's atonement. 
 
 1 One of the passages in which ho showed this familiarity is John x. 34-36 r 
 ".Tesus answered them, Is it not written in your law, I said, Ye are gods ? If 
 he called them gods unto whom the word of God came (and the Scripture can- 
 not be broken), say ye of him whom the Father sanctified and sent into the 
 world, Thou blasphcmcst ; because I said, I am the Son of God ? " 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 309 
 
 while I go yonder and pray " ; " and being in an agony he 
 prayed more earnestly " ; and even when his God had for- 
 saken him he illustrated his own rule that men ought always 
 to pray and not to faint. On the cross he prayed in words 
 quoted from the twenty-second Psalm, and we are warranted 
 in saying that all these Psalms, which have been the strength 
 and ornament of the Jewish and Christian church, have yet 
 fulfilled their loftiest mission at the house of the carpenter 
 at Nazareth. The songs composed by the royal ancestor 
 of that house may have been the daily food of the father, 
 mother, brothers, and sisters of Jesus in his boyhood and 
 early youth. 
 
 His habits of secret devotion fitted him for the public wor- 
 ship of Jehovah. It seems probable that before he was thirty 
 years of age he attended the weekly exercises of the Pros- 
 euchae and the Synagogues as silent laymen attend their 
 weekly religious conferences. With us an educated layman 
 will sometimes absent himself from these devotional gath- 
 erings because the homely words uttered in them do not 
 accord with his tastes ; but our Model of life prepared himself 
 for his great mission by observing and doing what was 
 required by the scribes and Pharisees, who sat in Moses' seat. 
 Let us reflect for a moment on what may have been his 
 experience during one of the services in the synagogue, 
 when he had so far "advanced in wisdom" as to read his 
 Gospel in the Prophecies. 
 
 When the minister who took charge of the parchment rolls 
 had brought one of them to the presiding elder, and when 
 the elder had read the lesson of the day, he may have made 
 his own comments upon it, and may have proclaimed : 
 " Brethren, if ye have any word of exhortation for the people, 
 say on." ^ When some rude exhorters had risen to expatiate 
 on the text, how mucli tamer were the words which they 
 uttered than were the thoughts of the young man who listened 
 to them ! The passage of the day may have been, " Who 
 
 1 Acts xiii. 15. 
 
310 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 hath believed our report, and to whom is the arm of the Lord 
 revealed ? " AYhat report ? What is this arm of the liord ? 
 The young listener keeps the great secret in his own breast. 
 Another secret follows : " He was wounded for our trans- 
 gressions ; he was bruised for our iniquities." There it is ; 
 there is the wonderful fact. That youthful hearer is the 
 only one who detects the full meaning of it. Round about 
 it and round about it stagger and stumble the unlettered 
 Jews who pretend to explain it ; but they never come straight 
 up to its main import, nor form one exact idea of it. The 
 young man is grieved that his heavenly Father's message is 
 like a pearl cast before swine. He suffers under the mangled 
 explanation of the prophecy respecting himself. He is 
 oppressed in the synagogue of his fathers. He is afflicted by 
 the barbarous speech of his exhorters. — "Who shall declare 
 his generation ?" How his heart burns within him to explain 
 what the preachers have so crudely expounded. He might 
 rise, and all the villagers would wonder at the gracious elo- 
 quence of his lips. He might now illumine the fifty-third 
 of Isaiah, as he afterward illustrated the sixty-first in this 
 same synagogue of Nazareth. But his ungrateful towns- 
 men might at once have led him to the brow of the hill on 
 which their village was built, that they might cast him 
 down headlong.^ His hour for that scene had not yet 
 come. He opened not his mouth. He disciplined his 
 spirit by sitting as a humble learner. The words of the 
 exhorters may have reminded him of the stripes which 
 he was to endure and by which we were to be healed. He 
 extracted the truth from the errors of his teachers. He 
 gathered honey from the dry leaves of the synagogue. 
 Daily, hourly was he learning that lowliness of mind which 
 was to prepare him for Gethsemanc and Calvary. In the 
 synagogue, as well as in the streets, he learned obedience by 
 the things that he suffered ; by his sense of shame for the 
 rude speech of the very best of the teachers of the favored 
 
 ' Luke iv. 29. 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 311 
 
 people ; by the word wliicli lie so often revolved in his own 
 secret thoughts, ' I have many things to say unto you, my 
 townsmen, my father, my brothers, my sisters, but ye cannot 
 bear them now.' 
 
 There are reasons for supposing that before he went up to 
 Jerusalem he had received some instruction in regard to the 
 ritual of the temple, and as often as he beheld the sacrifices 
 there he received some new idea of their import. The New 
 Testament informs us of the time when he began to teach, 
 but not of the time when he began to learn. As he had no 
 sin drawing him backward, as he had an ever-active virtue 
 impelling him forward, we may well suppose that as often 
 as he witnessed the temple service he opened his mind to its 
 rich intimations. We read in our context that his parents 
 went to Jerusalem every year at the feast of the Passover. 
 How many times they led him with them we are not informed. 
 His journeys to the sacred city may have been in themselves 
 an education. New light may have dawned upon him as he 
 listened to the singing of the Psalms appointed for the pil- 
 grimage. New ideas may have occurred to him as he walked 
 through the cities and over the fields which even in our own 
 day are a commentary on the Bible. ^ The moment when he 
 first beheld the towers of the holy city was one into which 
 he may have compressed years of ordinary progress. A 
 man may live a century in an hour. There arc crises which 
 can never be forgotten, and in which one glance of the eye 
 takes in broad acres of truth before unknown. When 
 Chateaubriand first caught a glimpse of Jerusalem he fell 
 
 ^ It is thought by some critics that when our Saviour made his first visit to 
 Jerusalem he passed over the river Kishon into the vicinity of Ilcrmon, Gilboa, 
 Megiddo, Ebal, Gerizim, Shiloh, Gibeah, Bethel, and other places full of thrill- 
 ing suggestions. A more common opinion is, that in his first journey he went 
 with the caravan from Nazareth taward the cast ; crossing the Jordan near the 
 ancient Bethshean, passed into Perea, then proceeded along the east side of 
 Jordan, recrossed the river near Jericho, and thence through the desert ascended 
 to the Holy City. The reason for taking this route, especially at the time of the 
 Jewish festivals, was the disposition of the Samaritans to molest the Jews when 
 travelling to their temple service. 
 
312 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN, 
 
 on his knees and continued rapt in prayer. Adam Clarke 
 was overwhelmed, and prostrated himself before God. It is 
 natural to suppose that some new gleams of light met the 
 eye of Jesus when he looked for the first time upon the 
 temple of which he had heard so many inspiriting reports. 
 "We cannot learn how clear or how obscure were the glim- 
 merings of his future history when he first gazed upon the 
 altar of the temple, and watched the ceremonials of the 
 paschal sacrifice. It is commonly thought that he paid his 
 first visit to the sacred edifice when he was twelve years old. 
 During that visit he may have had glimpses less and less 
 brief, less and less faint, of the great truth which may have 
 been too great for a boy of his tender years. Perhaps we 
 may venture on an imagination of his soliloquy : ' This 
 offering of the paschal lamb ! is it not a sign of something 
 to come upon me ? This slaughtering of an innocent animal ! 
 has it not some dark foreboding ? This lifted knife of the 
 priest ! has it the same significance with the knife of Abra- 
 ham, my great ancestor, when it was raised two thousand 
 years ago, on this very spot, and his son, his only son, lay 
 stretched out upon the sacrificial stone, and wondering at 
 the mysterious spectacle ? ^ The dying moans of the victims ! 
 is there to be another victim, which, hard by this very altar, 
 is to be offered up in sacrifice? Two sharp instruments, 
 crossing each other and thrust through the bleeding animal ! 
 is there to be a still more painful crucifixion ? Fire applied 
 to the animal! but this fire, — is it a shadow cast forward 
 from the furnace in which a different sufferer is to walk ? 
 And those words of my forefather David, whither do they 
 point ? ' They pierced my hands and my feet ; my heart is 
 like wax, it is melted within me. Be not thou far from me, 
 Lord.' The flesh of the animal is now eaten. It is meat 
 indeed. Except men eat of this flesh they have no life in 
 them.' 
 
 If broken hints like these arose in the mind of the young 
 
 ^ Gen. xxii. 1-14. 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 313 
 
 worshipper, we need not wonder that he lingered in the tem- 
 ple after the close of its services for the day. His father 
 and mother had started with their caravan for their home ; 
 but we need not wonder that his soul was stirred to its pro- 
 foundest depths, and he tarried near that altar where the 
 victim opened not its mouth, where not a bone of the lamb 
 was broken. His parents may have come back in sorrow, 
 and searched through the lanes of the city for three days in 
 order to find their lost child ; but we need not wonder that 
 he remained with the doctors of the law, and plied them with 
 queries. He may have asked : ' Does all this prefigure the 
 fountain to be opened in Israel ? Does it ? Hoiv does it ? 
 When does it ? Where does it find its full meaning ? ' If 
 his mother broke in upon his earnest questioning, did she 
 not know that he must be about his Father's business ? A 
 sword shall pierce through her own heart yet. If she bore 
 him away from the temple and the altar and the mount of 
 sacrifice, then we do not wonder that he went down with his 
 parents, " and came to Nazareth ; and he was subject unto 
 them " ; and we ave prepared to hear that " Jesus advanced 
 in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men." It 
 is natural to presume that either at the house of his parents 
 when he heard of the Jewish sacrifices, or at the house of 
 his Father when he witnessed them, either for the first time 
 or at some following time, he was inwardly and partially 
 enacting his atonement — secretly and deliberately and in- 
 quiringly tasting of the cup which he was to drink near that 
 mysterious Mount Moriah. So was his plastic mind fashioned 
 for his coming sorrows. 
 
 Fifthly, the character of the man Christ Jesus was affected 
 by his temptations. He used the means for gaining a power 
 to resist them. He gained his power by using these means, 
 and he augmented it by using it.^ 
 
 It is perilous for a youth to know that he is descended from 
 
 ^ See Note B, at the end of the sermon. 
 
314 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 a long line of kings. It tends to inflame that pride of an- 
 cestry which a human mind does not easily repress. In his 
 early life, however, the Prince of Israel guarded his heart 
 against all undue esteem either of himself or of his fore- 
 fathers. ' Consider the lilies,' we presume that he often 
 said to his own spirit as he was keeping himself meek and 
 lowly, ' consider the lilies, how they grow. They toil not, 
 and yet my royal ancestor in all his glory was not arrayed 
 like one of these flowers, which to-day is, and to-morrow is 
 cast into the oven. Why, then, should even the kings of the 
 earth be proud ? And one of these kings has said, — did he 
 say it in reference to me ? — "I am a worm and no man, the 
 reproach of men and the despised of the people." ' 
 
 It is perilous for a youth to foresee his own future exalta- 
 tion. The ancestral renown is not a more fearful lure to 
 sin than are the honors that glitter before the upward- 
 beaming eye. The descendant of the heroes of Judea had a 
 right to believe that a coronation ode had already been 
 written for him, and that the whole world would one day 
 sing to him : ' Gird on thy sword, hero ! thy glory and 
 ornament ! ' Wherewithal shall a child of mortality pre- 
 serve a humble mind when he is to be addressed in such a 
 paean of victory, sung to the accompaniment of the Sho- 
 shannim, and all the sons and daughters of Judea and all the 
 tribes of men are finally to echo and re-echo the triumphal 
 Psalm ? The hero of this epithalamium must gird himself 
 for wrestling with superhuman temptations, or else for the 
 sake of obtaining all the kingdoms of the world as his 
 possession he will dally for one minute with some unhal- 
 lowed love of fame. He did gird himself. He did not 
 allay his physical hunger by converting stones into bread, 
 nor did he work a miracle for gaining his spiritual food ; 
 but he used the means ; he watched and prayed ; and many 
 a thoughtful hour did he spend, we presume, in whispering 
 to his own heart: 'Every one, be he who he may, that 
 humljleth himself shall be exalted. Every one, be he who 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 315 
 
 he may, that taketh the highest place shall be thrust down 
 to the lowest.' And so did our Lord incase in a setting 
 of pure gold his meek and quiet spirit, which in the sight of 
 God is the pearl of great price. 
 
 Nor was he tempted merely by an appeal to his aspiring 
 sensibilities. He struggled against such appeals to his fear 
 as would overpower other men. We should expect tliat a 
 young man in our day would lose all cheer and alacrity of 
 spirit if the evils of his future life were mapped out before 
 him ; if he were informed of the particular incisions and the 
 bruises which would hasten his exit from earth ; if he should 
 see his own death solemnly represented before an inquiring 
 assembly. It is our comfort that the pains of definite antici- 
 pation are not superadded to the sorrows of the future ; that 
 when our woes steal in upon us they do not find us already 
 weakened by long-continued, oft-repeated symbols of them. 
 Our temptations would be heavier than we could bear if we 
 had a prophetic view of the precise time and the exact 
 nfethod of our suffering the pangs which lie waiting for us 
 in the dark valley we are to pass through. But the evil of 
 every day was not sufiicient for the Man of sorrows. He 
 had a foresight of his woes. How early he had it, and how 
 clear and full it was in his youthful days we are not informed. 
 It appears to have become more and more distinct as he drew 
 nearer and nearer to the signal woe for which he came into 
 the world. As he " advanced in wisdom " he advanced in 
 his prophetic insight. At an age when other persons are 
 buoyant with hope there was held up before his vision a chart 
 of the whirlpools he was to sail into and the rocks on which 
 his frail bark was to be dashed, and the waves of indignation 
 that were to roll over him as he sank in the deep waters. 
 No man was ever so tempted to let go his genial fellowship 
 with his race, and let himself down into a melancholy mood, 
 no longer mingling among men as their bosom com})anion, 
 eating and drinking, binding up the broken-hearted, and hold- 
 ing in his arms the feeble and the faint. If he were to be 
 
316 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 frowned upon by his enemies and forsaken by his friends ; 
 if he were to be hunted as a beast for slaughter by the 
 Nazarenes, and then despised as a Nazarene by the Beth- 
 saidans, and as a Bethsaidan by the Judeans, and as a Judean 
 by the Romans ; if he were to walk all the day long in the 
 shadow of the calamities which were to come upon him, how 
 could he smile as he drew near to them, and continue to 
 strew flowers in the pathway of men who hated him without 
 a cause ? "We can almost hear him familiarizing himself in 
 his private walks with those great truths that disciplined his 
 spirit : ' There is not a sparrow that falleth to the ground 
 without engaging the watchful care of the Great King. The 
 very hairs of the head of the most despised and down-trodden 
 of the sons of men are all numbered by the Father of us all, 
 and I delight to do his will, and my joy is fulfilled in all 
 men who love him.' 
 
 Sixthly, the human character of Christ was formed under 
 the influence of his afflictions. This is the great truth which 
 has been implied in the preceding remarks. We often repeat 
 the proverbial phrases that a man's right feeling makes him 
 a good judge of religious truth ; that if he will pray fervently 
 he will study the Bible successfully, that if he chooses to do 
 the divine will he will understand the divine record of that 
 will.^ Our Saviour taught the Jews that the Old Testament 
 bore witness of him.^ Now the most important witness 
 which the Old Testament bears concerning him is in its 
 sacrifices, and these prefigure his atonement. As his mind 
 had never been made obtuse by any wrong impulse, as it was 
 made acute and penetrating by his uniform godliness, we are 
 led to believe that the meaning and application of the Levit- 
 ical sacrifices were understood by him far earlier than they 
 are understood by imperfect men. We are prompted to 
 believe that in his boyhood he was informed of the song by 
 which the angels lieralded his birth, of the honor paid him 
 
 1 John vii. 17. '^ John v. 39 ; Luke xxiv. 25-27. 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHEIST AS A MAN. 317 
 
 by the wise men from the east, of the enemies who " sought 
 the young child's life," of many notable events connected 
 with his infancy. All such events were fitted to make him 
 the more inquisitive in regard to the sacrificial types of which 
 he was the antitype. His famiharity with these types was 
 fitted to keep his own great sacrifice paramount in his 
 thoughts, and thus to keep the silver in the refiner's fire. His 
 meditations on his cross were fitted to make him " a man of 
 sorrows," and his unprecedented sorrows were fitted to make 
 his holiness more profound than that of any other man. At 
 one time he exclaimed : " Now is my soul troubled ; and 
 what shall I say ? Father, save me from this hour. But for 
 this cause came I unto this hour." ^ It was the hour of his 
 sacrificial death in the prospect of which his soul was under 
 the discipline of affliction. Tliis death suggested to him the 
 sinfulness of men, and in view of this sinfulness he had long 
 been afflicted. This death suggested to him the miseries 
 resulting from sin, and in view of these miseries he had long 
 been afflicted. It suggested to him the mysterious pains 
 which he was to endure on the cross ; and in his prophetic 
 view of these pains he said : " I have a baptism to be bap- 
 tized with ; and how am I straitened [distressed] till it be 
 accomplished ! " ^ All these afflictions must have had an 
 influence on his character. Trouble has an influence on aU 
 good men ; it must have had a deeper and better influence 
 on him. " In the days of his flesh having offered up prayers 
 and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that 
 was able to save him from death," he " learned obedience by 
 the things which he suffered." ^ He learned obedience, not 
 the common obedience of common men, but " the obedience 
 unto death," the death prefigured at the Jewish altars. He 
 learned submission, a grace which in its distinctive, specific 
 form cannot be learned except in the prospect or endurance 
 of woe. Being instructed by his personal sorrow, he learned 
 the sweetness of resignation ; for in the ordinary use of lan- 
 
 ' John xii. 27-36 ; xiii. 1. '^ Luke xii. 50. « Heb. v. 7, 8. 
 
318 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 guage the grace of resignation is attended with some promi- 
 nence of grief. Being taught by his personal experience of 
 fear he learned to sympathize with us in " our infirmities " ; 
 for his warm sympathies imply his fellow-feeling with us in 
 our affliction.^ He learned to practise that one, which in 
 some aspects is the most difficult of all the virtues, — to 
 persevere in doing good under the pressure of deadly evils, 
 and in the prospect of evils to come yet deadlier. His atone- 
 ment consisted specially and pre-eminently in his death on 
 the cross, but it comprehended all his antecedent afflictions 
 having reference to that death. It reached, indeed, so far as 
 to include all the sorrows which he daily humbled himself to 
 endure. All these sorrows called forth new degrees of holi- 
 ness, and every new degree of it prepared the way for a 
 degree yet higher. Thus while on earth he " advanced in 
 wisdom," and when he ascended from the earth he was 
 advanced to the honors appropriate to him who had been 
 oppressed and afflicted in our behalf. " For it became him 
 for whom are all things, and through whom are all things, 
 in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the author of 
 their salvation perfect through sufferings." " And having 
 been made perfect [rewarded and glorified for his suffer- 
 ings], he became unto all them that obey him, the author of 
 eternal salvation." ^ 
 
 Seventhly, the character of Christ as a man was formed 
 under the peculiar and mysterious influences of the Divine 
 Mind. The Father abode in him and worked in him;' and 
 " for the joy that was set before him " by the Father, the Son 
 passed through those bitter experiences which qualified him 
 to sit on the Mediatorial throne. The Father said of the 
 Son: "The Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him — and 
 shall make him of quick understanding " ; and again : " I 
 have put my Spirit upon him." * The angel Gabriel said to 
 
 1 rieb. ii. 17, 18 ; iv. 15. ^ Ilcb. ii. 10 ; v. 9. 
 
 3 John X. 37, 38 ; xiv. 10, 1 1 . « Isa. xi. 1-4 ; xlii. 1-4. 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 319 
 
 the virgin : " The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the 
 power of the Most High shall overshadow thee." ^ "And the 
 child grew, and waxed strong, filled with wisdom ; and the 
 grace of God was upon him." ^ " And John bare witness, 
 saying, I have beheld the Spirit descending as a dove out of 
 heaven; and it abode upon him."^ "And Jesus, full of the 
 Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan, and was led by the 
 Spirit in the wilderness during forty days." ^ " And Jesus 
 returned in the power of the Spirit into Galilee." ^ When 
 we read : " It was the good pleasure of the Father that in 
 him [Christ] should all the fulness dwell," " In him dwelleth 
 all the fulness of the Godhead bodily,"^ we are impressed 
 by the fact that even while on earth the human nature of 
 Christ, although remaining strictly human, was raised by its 
 union with the divine nature, into a degree of excellence far 
 above our earthly standards. 
 
 Among all the productions of the Divine Mind, there is 
 not one, perhaps, which will ever attract so many admiring 
 eyes as the triumph of his wisdom in fashioning the char- 
 acter of the man who from the babe of Bethlehem grew up 
 into the " merciful and faithful High Priest " who can " be 
 touched with the feeling of our infirmities," and who endears 
 himself to his friends on earth " in that he himself hath suf- 
 fered being tempted," and is therefore " able to succor them 
 that are tempted." '' There will be many brilliant luminaries 
 in the firmament of heaven. They will reflect the radiance 
 of the Holy Ghost. But the Redeemer says: "I am the 
 bright, the morning star." s It was meet that the character 
 which is to be the model for all the race to imitate should be 
 formed with especial care. It was meet that the stamp 
 which was to be impressed on the plastic minds of all the 
 chosen of God through all time and all eternity should be 
 wrought out with a divine watcMulness and an infinite taste. 
 
 1 Luke i. 35. 2 L^j^e {;_ 40. 8 John i. 32. 
 
 •• Luke iv. 1. 6 Luke iv. 14. « Col. i. 19 ; ii. 9. 
 
 ' Heb. ii. 17, 18; iv. 15. » Rev. xxii. 16. 
 
320 INFLUENCES ON CHKIST AS A MAN. 
 
 Every lineament must be drawn with exactness, for it is to 
 be copied and recopied on earth and in heaven ; and all the 
 graces of all the redeemed are to be photographed from this 
 one standard of beauty. 
 
 In this discourse we have seen that the Divine Mind 
 employed upon the man Christ Jesus all the instruments 
 of human art and of outward nature, of the Bible and of 
 temptation, — temptations of sorrow and joy, defeat and 
 triumph, — in order that wherever we roam we may have a 
 faultless pattern, and amid all our queries how to conduct 
 ourselves we may look unto Jesus, and learn in an instant 
 how to act and speak and think and feel. When we are under 
 the parental roof, or conversing with the ministers of religion, 
 or journeying by day near the fields already white for the 
 harvest, or walking by moonlight through the shrubbery of a 
 garden, or sitting way-worn and weary near a fountain of 
 water, or sailing over a smooth sea, or lying down in a boat 
 tossed by the storm, or looking from a mountain-top upon 
 the magnificent palaces of a city, or rejoicing at a wedding 
 festival, or going to the grave to weep there, or conversing 
 in sacred confidence with our friends, or listening to the 
 taunts of our enemies, or holding an office of trust, or standing 
 as a subject or a prisoner before a ruler, or bond or free, or 
 in health or sickness, or hungering or thirsting, or pierced 
 or bruised or wounded or bleeding or dying — in all conceiv- 
 able circumstances of our spiritual life we may look up and 
 — " Behold the Man=" 
 
 As we cannot behold him in the full excellence of his life, 
 so wc cannot behold him in the full significance of his death. 
 Wlicn we reflect on the sad origin of death in the world, 
 on the dark events of which death is the s/mbol, on the 
 emphasis given to "the death of the cross," we find no 
 words for our wonder as we " behold the man " who was 
 " delivered up by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge 
 of God," — delivered up to be crucified and slain. Our com- 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 321 
 
 fort is that he was to rise again, and he said : " Destroy this 
 temple, and in three days I will raise it up." ^ It was meet 
 that there should be fashioned for us one faultless model ; 
 for this very model was needed in the great atonement. 
 There was to be a statue, and it was to be chiselled and 
 polished with a divine carefulness, without one stain, without 
 one spot, without one wrinkle, witliout any such thing ; for 
 this was the model which for our welfare was to be held up 
 before the gaze of angels and archangels by the right hand of 
 God ; and then, while principalities and powers were gazing 
 at the mysterious statue, it was to be dashed against the 
 rocks like a potter's vessel. At a great price have you and 
 I obtained our freedom. By the wounds and bruises of him 
 who was enriched with such a character, and who was 
 fashioned in his inner life by the mysterious wisdom of the 
 mysterious Framer of mind, are you and I redeemed out of 
 great tribulation. Not with silver and gold, but with the 
 precious blood of the man who was united with God are we 
 ransomed from our guilt. 
 
 1 John ii. 19-22. 
 
322 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Note A, to Page 298. 
 
 One incidental aim of this discourse is, to emphasize the tnith 
 that Christ had a nature strictly human. "We are told by objectors 
 that we mar the naturalness and simplicity of his record in the New 
 Testament, if we read into it the doctrine that he was God. We 
 obviate this objection when we give prominence to the truth that 
 he had a human as well as a divine nature. While we believe tiiat 
 his human nature began to exist, not as a separate person, but as a 
 nature united with the divine, and that the two natures, united but 
 not mixed, formed one person, the God-man, still we believe that the 
 lower nature continued to be as really and properly human as the 
 nature of Paul or John. Whatever can be predicated of the human 
 constitution as such, can be predicated of the only sinless man. In 
 his human nature be acted and suffered according to the con- 
 stitutional laws of humanity. One of these laws is that of mental 
 growth. A man is able to know at one time what he did not know 
 at a previous time. As a man our Saviour made progress, and he 
 made it gradually. It was a favorite remark of Prof. Moses Stuart : 
 " If there was not a gradual increase of wisdom and knowledge in 
 his human nature, then that nature was not truly and properly 
 human ; for this is an unfailing and necessary attribute of proper 
 humanity." When we give the fitting prominence to the truth that 
 his wisdom was progressive, we perceive no stiffness in the style of 
 his biographers. The remarks in Matt. xxi. 18-20; Mark xi. 12-14; 
 Matt. xxiv. 36 ; Mark xiii. 32, are perfectly natural and lifelike. 
 
 Another incidental aim of the sermon is, to emphasize the truth 
 that Christ was a perfect man. His perfect holiness facilitated his 
 forming correct views of truth, and his accurate views of truth occa- 
 sioned his making new advances in holiness. His right intellect 
 acted on his will, and his right will reacted on his intellect ; and 
 thus his power of mental and moral growth was cumulative. His 
 rectitude of character did not imply that he lived without super- 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 323 
 
 natural inspiration, and his supernatural inspiration did not imply 
 that he was deficient in rectitude of character. (See pp. 316-319.) 
 In his supernatural working God does not dishonor the constitutional 
 laws established by him, and in retaining these constitutional laws 
 he does not obviate the utility of supernatural working. There is a 
 beautiful harmony between his operating in nature and his operat- 
 ing above nature. There is a moral grandeur in the fact that the 
 supernatural influences of the Divine Spirit were superadded to the 
 perfection of Christ's human character. There is a greater sublimity 
 in the fact that his perfect human nature was taken up into the 
 divine, so that he was "full of grace and truth," and "of his fulness 
 we all received, and grace for grace " (John i. 14, 16). 
 
 A third incidental aim of the sermon is, to emphasize the fact 
 that we do not know how early and how rapidly the man Christ 
 Jesus made his surprising advances in wisdom. Some believers in 
 his divinity appear to be confident that before his baptism he made no 
 such advances, and that he did not foresee his future sufferings until 
 a long time after his baptism. But we obstruct the easy flow of his 
 biography when we draw an arbitrary line in it, and maintain that 
 on one side of this line he acquired no unusual amount of knowl- 
 edo-e, and on the other side his knowledge came to him without his 
 using any means to acquire it. The facile style of the Gospels 
 requires us to leave the exact times and seasons undetermined, to 
 admit the possibility of his progress when we have no definite proof 
 of it, and to allow the probability of it when we have the slightest 
 intimation of it. The style of the New Testament does not appear 
 stiff or artificial unless we erect arbitrary barriers and contend that 
 before he reached them he had made no remarkable progress in 
 wisdom, and after he reached them he was suddenly endued with a 
 wisdom for which he had used no instrumentalities. As a man he 
 needed to pray as other men need to pray ; and volumes of truth lie 
 hidden in his words : " And I knew that thou hearest me always " 
 (John xi. 42). 
 
 A fourth incidental aim of the sermon is, to intimate the various 
 aspects in which Christ is presented to us as a teacher on whom we 
 can implicitly rely. One great argument for the trustworthiness of 
 Moses and the prophets is the fact that Christ endorsed them ; and 
 one fjreat arjoiment for the trustworthiness of the apostles is the fact 
 
324 INFI.UENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 that he promised the gift of the Holy Spirit to them. Can we place 
 implicit reliance on all his intimations ? 
 
 "We can place implicit reliance upon them in this aspect, — his 
 human and his divine natures were united in one person, and the 
 human was exalted by its union with the divine. (See pp. 318, 319 ; 
 compare John i. 1-18 ; iii. 11-13 ; Heb. i. 2-4 ; ii. 1-4.) 
 
 In another aspect we can rely implicitly upon him as a teacher, — 
 he was supernaturally influenced by the Holy Spirit. (See pp. 318, 
 319; compare John iii. 34; vii. 16-18; viii. 26-29; xii. 44-50; 
 xiv. 10, 24 ; xvii. 8.) 
 
 In still other aspects of Christ we can rely implicitly on his words 
 and intimations, — he was a perfect teacher because he was a perfect 
 man. (a) As a perfect man he had perfect sympathies with his 
 brethren. Pupils are most happily influenced by the teacher whO' 
 loves them and has a fellow-feeling with them. The human sym- 
 pathies of Christ were in themselves peculiar and peculiarly endear- 
 ing. His perfect fitness to teach men what they ought to know is 
 implied in the wonderful declaration that " he is not ashamed to call 
 them hrethren^' (Heb. ii. 11, 12; compare Matt, xxviii. 10; John 
 XX. 17 ; Rom. viii. 29 ; Heb. ii. 16-18 ; iv. 15). (b) The perfection 
 of his holiness prevented him from harboring in his own mind any 
 wrong impression, and from making any remarks fitted to leave on 
 other minds a wrong impression, affecting their religious or moral 
 belief or duty. When we say that he advanced in holiness, we do 
 not imply that he advanced out of moral wrong into moral rectitude ;. 
 so when we say that he made progress in knowledge we do not 
 imply that he made progress out of a false belief into a true one. 
 His intellectual progress consisted in his gaining new views of a sub- 
 ject when he had previously formed no wrong views of it. His 
 moral progress consisted in his exercising new degrees of holiness 
 when he had previously exercised all the degrees of it which were 
 possible to him. He is that unique man who never had reason to 
 confess an obliquity of the heart or of the intellect. When we 
 attempt to comprehend, — and we cannot fully comprehend — the in- 
 fluence of a moral nature uncontaminated by sin upon an intellectual 
 nature undamaged by heredity, — we cannot suppose that the man 
 Christ Jesus, even if left to the working of his merely human facul- 
 ties, would have given any instruction conflicting with the mind or 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 325 
 
 will of the Father who dwelt in him. The remarks of Dr. South 
 on the moral perfection influencing the intellectual perfection of the 
 first Adam suggest some important ideas on the moral, influencing 
 the intellectual, perfection of the second Adam. "I confess," he 
 writes, " it is as difficult for us, who date our ignorance from our 
 first being, and were still bred up with the same infirmities about us 
 with which we were born, to raise our thoughts and imaginations to 
 those intellectual perfections that attended our nature in the time of 
 innocence, as it is for a peasant bred up in the obscurities of a cot- 
 tage, to fancy in his mind the unseen splendors of a court. But by 
 rating positives by their privatives, and other arts of reason by 
 which discourse supplies the want of the reports of sense, we may 
 collect the excellency of the understanding then by the glorious 
 remainders of it now, and guess at the stateliness of the building by 
 the magnificence of its ruins. All those arts, rarities, and inventions 
 which vulgar minds gaze at, the ingenious pursue, and all admire, 
 are but the reliques of an intellect defaced with sin and time. We 
 admire it now, only as antiquaries do a piece of old coin, for the 
 stamp it once bore, and not for those vanishing lineaments and dis- 
 appearing draughts that remain upon it at present. And certainly 
 that must needs have been very glorious the decays of which are so 
 admirable. He that is comely when old and decrepit surely was 
 very beautiful when he was young. An Aristotle was but the rub- 
 bish of an Adam, and Athens but the rudiments of Paradise " (Dis- 
 courses on Various Subjects and Occasions, by Robert South, D.D., 
 pp. 7, 8, Am. ed., 1827). 
 
 Note B, to Page 313. 
 It is a familiar remark that the virtue of men is cultivated by their 
 resisting the small rather than the great temptations to which they 
 are subjected. They may obtain the victory over large armies, and 
 fall under the victorious power of a petty annoyance. The three 
 temptations which are recorded in Luke iv. 1-13 may be regarded 
 as comprehending a variety of minor ones by which the mind of our 
 Lord was affected. The narrative outlines them more or less dis- 
 tinctly. Among his smaller temptations may be named his induce- 
 ments to complain of his lot as cast among disagreeable men and in 
 disagreeable scenes. We are apt to form an ideal, far different from 
 
826 INFLUENCES ON CHRIST AS A MAN. 
 
 the real, picture of Palestine, and to forget that our Eedeemer was 
 educated by the repulsive as well as by the attractive objects pre- 
 sented to his eye. When we are standing on some ground where 
 we are convinced that he often stood, and imagining that he was 
 undisturbed there in his holy thoughts, we may be suddenly checked 
 in our fancies by an exasperating bruise, and may feel, as well as see, 
 the force of the words, " They took up stones to cast at him." ^ Many 
 circumstances render it probable that we are walking near his foot- 
 steps when we move to and fro on the summit of the hill overlook- 
 ing Nazareth, or on the lower area contiguous to the fountain which 
 supplies the city with water. The signs are that this is an ancient 
 fountain, and was a popular resort for the Nazarenes in our Saviour's 
 day, as it is in our day. It presents many delightful features ; but 
 we are apt to forget how often he may have been annoyed by the 
 scenes presented to him there. 
 
 On an afternoon of the Jewish Sabbath in the year 1870 I sat 
 watching the crowd who had come with their water-urns to the 
 fountain, and I easily imagined that the boy Jesus was sometimes 
 led to this place of resort by his mother, as children were led to it 
 by their parents on the afternoon of my visit. A young woman, 
 uncommonly prepossessing in her appearance, had just sold to our 
 dragoman a small measure of provisions for our table. A strong 
 man was near her, and was disappointed in not having made the 
 bargain for himself. He began to abuse her in harsh language. It 
 became more and more terrific. Her replies were screeches of 
 revenge. At length he began to wield over her head a huge club, 
 and she took up from the ground a large stone. There was danger 
 of serious wounds and bruises. The bystanders did not discourage 
 the strife ; some appeared to enjoy it. In process of time it was 
 followed by other combats between the women who had come with 
 their urns or pitchers to the fountain. They fought like tigers, 
 rather than like the daughters of men. "Was not our Saviour often 
 annoyed by such brutal scenes ? As he watched the children playing 
 in the market-place,^ was he not repelled, as the traveller is now, by 
 their juvenile contentions ? We are apt to associate external purity 
 with spiritual, and to suppose that our Lord, having a spotless heart, 
 was a man of exquisite taste. He must have been often discomfited 
 
 1 John viii. 59 ; x. 31. 2 Matt. xi. 16, 17 ; Luke vii. 32. 
 
INFLUENCES ON CHBIST AS A MAN. 327 
 
 by the uncleanly streets of Nazareth. IMany of them have been 
 much improved in this regard during the last half century ; but a 
 walk through them is even now a trial of the traveller's patience 
 and forbearance. Our missionaries in Syria complain that their 
 ' benevolent feelings are interrupted ' by the offensive condition of 
 the houses and walks which they frequent. 
 
XIII. 
 
 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER IN ANTICIPATION 
 OE HIS DEATH. 
 
 MATTHEW XXVI. 38. 
 MT 80UL IS EXOEBDINQ BOREOWF0L, EVEN UNTO DEATH. 
 
 Whatever the character of a man may be, his feelings in 
 affliction are often modified by his constitutional peculiar- 
 ities. There are persons of such firm nerve that they will 
 meet the distresses of life with comparative indifference ; 
 and, on the other hand, there are persons of such delicate 
 framework that they shrink back from the very thought 
 of a pain. By various hints given us in regard to the 
 man of Nazareth, we should be led to imagine that he 
 would not look upon the ills of life with apathy, nor be 
 oppressed in anticipation of them with any peculiar dread. 
 He seems to have had no excess in any one part of his 
 nature, and no deficiency in any other part. All his powers 
 and all his emotions were so happily adjusted to each other 
 that, judging from his nature alone, we should be surprised 
 to hear of his exclaiming, ' My soul is exceeding sorrowful, 
 so that I feel as if I should die under my grief.' 
 
 Not only are the emotions of a man in calamity so far 
 modified by his constitutional tendencies that we cannot 
 always determine from the scene of his death what had been 
 his character through life, but in like manner the feelings of 
 a man in the hour of trial are often affected by his past 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 329 
 
 character, so that we cannot always determhie from his mode 
 of enduring pain what were the distinctive qualities of his 
 constitution. There have been men of iron structure who 
 trembled on their death-beds, and hastened their exit from 
 earth through excess of fear. They had been unmerciful 
 and unjust men ; and their minds, stern as they were, broke 
 down at last under the remembrance of their guilt. There 
 have been other men of frail texture, whom the winds of 
 heaven had never been allowed to visit roughly, who yet 
 encountered the king of terrors with a smile. They had 
 been men of faith and prayer and almsgiving, and therefore 
 ' the chamber where they met their fate was privileged above 
 the common walks of life, and quite on the verge of heaven.' 
 As the constitution of the carpenter's son would not lead us 
 to expect that he would be depressed in view of his decease, 
 so his character would lead us to anticipate that his last 
 hours would be his happiest. If our consciences were pure 
 like his we should triumph in the hope of being absent from 
 the body so that we might be present with our God. Never 
 had Jesus, like one of his disciples, uttered a falsehood, the 
 memory of which would haunt his closing hours. Never 
 had he, like another of his apostles, persecuted the innocent, 
 who might seem to throng around him when his imagina- 
 tion was excited in view of a quickly coming judgment. 
 While he hung upon the cross he could not assemble before 
 him the orphan children whom he had beggared, nor the 
 defenceless mothers whom he had oppressed, nor the hungry 
 whom he had grieved by the denial of bread, nor the 
 sick whom he had made disconsolate by refusing to visit 
 them. If he had made mistakes in judgment, he would 
 have humbled himself for them ; if he had committed sin, 
 which is the copious fountain of mistakes, he would have 
 mourned over it; but he is the only reasonable man who 
 ever lived and never made a confession of either mental or 
 moral error. His peculiar language was : " Which of you 
 convicteth me of sin ? " "I seek not mine own will, but the 
 
330 THE SOEROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 will of him that sent me " ; "I do always the things that are 
 pleasing to him." ^ His life was filled up with none but good 
 deeds, all of which spread themselves out before his eye 
 fading in death, and transformed themselves into persons 
 bringing festive garlands to cheer his last hours. His life 
 was filled up with such kindly thoughts as prepare us to 
 hear him exclaim, " death, where is thy sting ?" and awaken 
 a feeling of disappointment when he cries, ' My soul is ex- 
 ceeding sorrowful, as though the pangs of death had already 
 fallen upon me.' 
 
 The elevation of a man above the majority of his fellow- 
 men often disposes him to give signs of equanimity, if not of 
 bravery, in view of passing from the scene of probation to 
 that of retribution. " Socrates died like a philosopher." A 
 similar tribute is paid to many sages and heroes of antiquity. 
 Intellectual elevation sometimes, moral elevation at other 
 times, intellectual and moral elevation united, have prompted 
 them to appear, if not to be, calm, if not courageous, in their 
 conflict with the king of terrors. The style in which our 
 Lord spoke of his own character and office evinced his con- 
 sciousness of being raised above all his race — above the men 
 who went before him, and the men who were to come after 
 him, and the men who were contemporary with him. His 
 assertions are the more impressive because they were uttered 
 so considerately, so conscientiously, so confidently. ' Every 
 one,' he says, ' who heareth these words of mine and doeth 
 them shall be likened unto a wise man which built his house 
 upon the rock, and the rain and the floods and the winds 
 beat upon that house, and it fell not ; and every one that 
 heareth my words and doeth them not shall be likened unto 
 a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand, and the 
 rain and the floods and the winds beat upon that house, and 
 it fell.' ^ He did not move about in royal apparel ; but he 
 says, " A greater than Solomon is here." ^ He aggrandizes 
 
 1 John viii. 46 ; v. 30 ; viii. 29. 2 Matt. vii. 24-27 ; Luke vi. 47-49. 
 
 * Matt. xii. 42. 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 331 
 
 his office by declaring, " If a man keep my word, he shall 
 never see death." ^ " Every one that hath left houses or 
 brethren or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, 
 for my name's sake, shall receive a hundred-fold, and shall 
 inherit eternal life." ^ "I am the bread of life : he that 
 Cometh to me shall not hunger, and he that belie veth on 
 me shall never thirst." ^ Ho commands not only our assent, 
 but also our reverence, as he predicts, " When the Son of 
 man shall come in his glory, and all the angels with him, 
 then shall he sit on the throne of his glory ; and before him 
 shall be gathered all the nations." * While we are overawed 
 by announcements like these, we are not prepared to antici- 
 pate that on the eve of his entering Paradise he will utter 
 the words, ' My soul is exceeding sorrowful, and I feel the 
 woes of one struggling with death.' 
 
 The peculiar ties that bind us to the present and to the 
 future world often affect the mode of our exit. Wlien the 
 circle of a man's friendship is unbroken, and he is torn away 
 from a society which had never before experienced the like 
 rupturing of bonds, he cannot be expected to leave these 
 chosen companions without sorrowing that he shall see their 
 faces no more. But when the friends who had attracted him 
 to earth have been one by one taken up to heaven, then the 
 spiritual magnets have an augmented power upon him, and 
 draw him in a new direction. He looks upward from this 
 deserted world with longings to revisit those who have gone 
 before him. The prospect of joining hands with them in 
 their happy abode, and of meeting the general assembly of 
 the church of the first-born, is fitted to suggest the language, 
 "I would not live alway";^ 'The day of one's death is 
 better than the day of one's birth.' ^ From the fact that the 
 birth of Jesus was made joyous by the song of angels, we 
 should expect that his death would be made still more joyous 
 
 1 Johnviii. 51. ^ Matt. xix. 29. » John vi. 35. See also ver. 27, 40,48,51. 
 ♦ Matt. XXV. 31, 32. 6 job vii. 16. " Eccl. vii. 1. 
 
332 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 by his prospect of meeting the innumerable company of glo- 
 rified spirits. He had come unto his own, and his own had 
 received him not. But little sympathy had he enjoyed from 
 men, and evil and few had been the days of the years of his 
 pilgrimage. Hosts of his friends were in the land above 
 the stars. When he left the world he would go to the 
 mansions where multitudes of his reputed relatives were 
 enthroned. We are thus led to anticipate that his uniform 
 language would be, 'If ye loved me, ye would have rejoiced 
 because I said, I go unto the Father, for my Father is in a 
 more glorious position than I ' ; ^ " He that hath seen me 
 hath seen the Father."- He had promised his disciples, 
 " Ye shall sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel." ^ 
 Trusting in him, one of his apostles uttered the triumphant 
 word, " Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of 
 righteousness." ^ This apostle had once dragged women 
 and children unto prison for their faith in Christ. Shall not 
 the last hours of Christ himself, who obtained the throne and 
 the crown for penitent men, be gladdened by the prospect of 
 resuming his seat at the right hand of the Majesty on high, 
 where every knee was to bow to him, and all the angels of 
 God were to worship him ? Shall he not exclaim : " And I, 
 if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto my- 
 self " ;^ "I am come a light into the world, that whosoever 
 believeth on me may not abide in the darkness " ; ^ " Come 
 unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will 
 give you rest " V But while hearkening for words like 
 these, we hear him exclaim, in the garden, ' My soul is 
 exceeding sorrowful, so that I am brought near unto death 
 by my very grief.' 
 
 The various degrees of publicity which are given to our 
 sufferings affect the manner in which we endure them. One 
 will be often restive and querulous under secret vexations, 
 
 1 John xiv. 28. ^ John xiv. 9. ^ Luke xxii. 30. * 2 Tim. iv. 8. 
 
 6 John xii. 32. « John xii. 46. ^ Matt. xi. 28. 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 333 
 
 and will bear with exemplary fortitude the troubles which 
 are conspicuous to the world. "We are nerved for a conflict 
 by the gaze of men. Their sympathy with us buoys us up 
 against discouragement ; or their opposition to us makes us 
 ashamed to tremble. Many a martyr has borne with heroism 
 before his enemies what he would recoil from before his 
 confiding friends, and has been emboldened by his friends to 
 stand up manfully under burdens that would have caused 
 him to faint being alone. The publicity of our Saviour's 
 agonies, then, is fitted to raise an expectation that he would 
 endure them without a tear. They had been foretold by 
 prophets ; they had been prefigured by sacrifices ; while he 
 was passing through them a great cloud of witnesses were 
 looking down upon him from on high ; his enemies were 
 expecting to defeat his projects ; soldiers and priests, Romans 
 and Jews were around him, buffeting, reproaching, deriding, 
 triumphing over him. Where was ever more incitement to 
 glory in infirmities, to count it all joy when falling into 
 divers afflictions, to take up the cross with a bold heart, and 
 — being a spectacle to angels and men, being heard on 
 earth, in heaven, and in the world of despair — to cry out, 
 ' I am ready to be offered ; I have fought the good fight ; I 
 have come off conqueror, and more than conqueror ' ? For 
 such words we bend forward our listening ear, but we catch 
 the sound : ' My soul is overladen with a grief which well- 
 nigh presses me into my grave.' 
 
 Men are influenced in their mode of sustaining troubles by 
 the results which are expected to flow from them. The mother 
 will forget her food and sleep in bending over the pillow of her 
 emaciated child ; but she would sink under the half of these 
 privations were it not for the lingering hope of good that would 
 come from them. Pain which is of no use is an absolute evil ; 
 that which worketh the peaceable fruits of righteousness is 
 relatively a blessing. It is a good when needed for the 
 highest good. In this view, then, the anticipated death of 
 
334 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 Jesus would seem fitted to fill kis mind with unspeakable 
 consolation. That death was to form the key-stone in the 
 stupendous system of grace. An enslaved world was to be 
 liberated by it from bondage. A multitude which no man 
 can number were to be ransomed by it from weeping and 
 wailing. Not men only, but angels also were to learn wisdom 
 from it ; not creatures only, but the Creator also was to be 
 glorified by it. That death was the fruit of an eternal 
 counsel of the Father. It had been the theme of rejoicing 
 for myriads of ages with the sacred Three. In the retrospect 
 of this death an apostle has said that on account of it ' God 
 hath highly exalted the Redeemer, and given him a name 
 above every name, and hath raised him far above all princi- 
 pality and power and might and dominion, not only in this 
 world, but also in that which is to come.' ^ Why, then, does 
 not the sufferer in the garden utter triumphant words in the 
 prospect of the glories which his apostle described in retro- 
 spect ? Why does he not say, " In the volume of the book it 
 is written of me, I delight to do thy will, my God" ?2 We 
 listen for words like these. We are disappointed by the 
 words : ' My soul is burdened with a load of sorrow, and it is 
 weighing me down into my grave.' 
 
 The providence and the promises of Jehovah are fitted to 
 encourage the idea that such a man as Jesus would be borne 
 triumphantly through his final scene. Weaker men than he 
 had been sustained amid tortures the mention, or even 
 thought, of which fills us with shuddering. Even children 
 have been comforted while the flames have slowly consumed 
 their bodies. It is a law of providence to bestow blessings 
 where they are needed, and to give unexpected aid to him 
 that is ready to faint. God loves to draw near his chosen 
 when earthly friends are far removed. ' If thou prepare 
 thine heart, and stretch out thine hands toward me, then 
 shalt thou lift up thy face with joy.' ^ ' When thou art in 
 
 1 Phil. ii. 5-11 ; Eph. i. 20-23 ; Ileb. i. >.. -^ Ps. xl. 7, 8. » Job xi. 13, 15. 
 
THE SORROW OP THE REDEEMER. 335 
 
 tribulation, if thou be obedient to the voice of the Lord he 
 will not forsake thee.' ^ ' He will be with thee and will save 
 thee. Fear not, therefore, neither be dismayed.' ^ From the 
 fact that it is the glory of God to be a refuge in times of 
 trouble, and that Jesus a few weeks before liis decease had 
 said, " I thank thee that thou heardest me, and I knew that 
 thou hearest me always," ^ we should not suppose that he 
 would be "sorrowful and very heavy" in view of the hour 
 when God ordinarily chooses to manifest the timeliness of 
 his grace. We should imagine that the Son of David, who 
 knew no sin, would express a more cheerful confidence than 
 David himself, who was shapen in iniquity ; and would ex- 
 claim, with more than the Psalmist's emphasis, " Though I 
 walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear 
 no evil."* That Son of David was, in our view, the last man 
 who could hesitate to say : " Thou art with me ; thy rod and 
 thy staff they comfort me," — the last man who could be 
 exposed to the peril of sinking in grief while on the eve of 
 rising to the blessedness of his Father's presence in heaven. 
 
 The general style of our Saviour's conversation with regard 
 to his death when viewed in the distance, would lead us to 
 suppose that when his death drew near he would meet it 
 with composure. There is one class of men who reflect but 
 little on their frailties, and, because they feel courageous 
 while no evil is near, expect to feel an equal boldness as the 
 danger grows imminent. Hence they fail to discipline them- 
 selves for the severities of their coming lot, and their forti- 
 tude wilts away at the first approach of trouble. Our Saviour 
 was not a man of this class. There is another order of men 
 who are inured to habits of self-inspection, and feel but little 
 confidence in their preparation for disaster. When, however, 
 they arc called to grapple with the difficulties which they 
 feared they develop a strength which before had lain dormant. 
 There is a strange rallying of their powers to endure what 
 
 1 Deut. iv. 30, 31. - Deut. xxxi. 8. * John xi. 41, 42. ■• Ps. xxiii. 4. 
 
836 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 would be far beyond their capacities when not stimulated by 
 peril. Such men know not what they can do or bear, and 
 they are faint in the prospective dread of that which they 
 finally undergo with a stout heart. Cranmer was amazed 
 that the flames at which he shuddered from afar became so 
 harmless to the touch. Now we should suppose that the 
 Nazarene, who had been so thoughtful in regard to himself 
 and his destiny, so discreet in his prophecies of his future 
 pain, so far from unreasoning diffidence and also from over- 
 weening confidence in himself, would have used no more 
 triumphant language in the anticipation of his woes than he 
 used in the endurance of them. He had always spoken with 
 solemn dignity in the forethought of his last hours. There 
 were signs of his being ready to meet the worst which might 
 come upon him, of his courage springing from deep reflection, 
 of his fortitude remaining as firm when he should pass 
 through the waters as when he took a distant view of them ; 
 all these signs were in his considerate utterance : " I have a 
 baptism to be baptized with ; and how am I straitened till it 
 be accomplished." ^ No longer ago than the Monday before 
 his death he uttered the deliberate words : " Now is my soul 
 troubled ; and what shall I say ? Father, save me from this 
 hour. But for this cause came I unto this hour. Father, 
 glorify thy name." '-^ But as early as the next Thursday 
 evening a change came over the whole spirit of his conver- 
 sation. He fainted and trembled and wept, with strong 
 crying and tears; and on Friday morning, instead of ex- 
 claiming, " Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright ; 
 for the end of that man is peace," ^ he admitted that he 
 suffered an anguish so extreme as to border on the extreme 
 limit of possible endurance. 
 
 Nearly all the reasons which have now been named for 
 leading us to anticipate that our Lord would close his earthly 
 mission in unalloyed blessedness are gathered up in the fact 
 
 1 Luke xii. 50. " John xii. 27, 28. ^ pg, xxxvii. 37. 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 337 
 
 that he is represented by inspired men as uniting a divine 
 with a human nature in his one person — as being not only 
 man, but also the Creator, the Preserver, the Governor of 
 the world, knowing all things, able to do all things, reigning 
 forever, without any shadow cast by any change. Because 
 he " emptied himself " and " humbled himself " so as to 
 become obedient unto death, he was to be crowned with the 
 glory and honor of the Mediator, but through the eternal 
 ages he had enjoyed the glory and honor of God; for 'in 
 the beginning the Word was with God and was God.' ^ We 
 are familiar with the fact that the higher nature of a man 
 often fortifies his lower nature, and he triumphs over his 
 pain of body because his mind is strong in faith and hope. 
 Sometimes he enjoys his highest blessedness on earth when 
 his physical organs are in their deepest agony. While we 
 meditate on the divine nature of the God-man, we imagine 
 that it will buoy up the human nature against the assaults 
 of fear, that he who said, ' I have power to lay down my life, 
 and I have power to take it again,' '^ " I am the resurrection 
 and the life," ^ will never pass through a scene like that of 
 Gethsemane. We are not prepared to learn that in the 
 garden he is moving to and fro, now walking, now standing 
 still, now falling down, now uttering broken prayers, now 
 perspiring so profusely in the cool air that when he stretches 
 out his hand the drops may probably be heard falling from it 
 like drops of blood. If he himself was " amazed " at the 
 burdens laid on him, we may well be amazed at his cry, " My 
 soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death." 
 
 Wliy, then, was the soul of the Mediator cast down, and 
 his spirit disquieted within him ? Great is this mystery 
 of godliness. We may detect some initial lines of it, but 
 cannot trace them to their end. Here and there we may 
 catch a glimpse of the causes which made the chief martyr 
 
 1 Phil. ii. 7, 8 ; Heb. ii. 9 ; John i. 1. •' John x. 18. See also John ii. 19. 
 3 John xi. 25. See also v. 21. 
 
338 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 of the world sink down in the anticipation of the cross, while 
 the most delicate of his followers have endured the cross 
 not only with submission, but with triumph. We cannot 
 learn all the reasons why, although the soldiers of Immanuel 
 have gone forth to their last conflict with shoutings, the 
 Captain of our salvation was " greatly amazed and sore 
 troubled " ^ on the eve of his trial. With becoming humility 
 let us now venture on some intimations of some reasons why 
 the Redeemer of men was oppressed with grief on the eve of 
 his crucifixion. 
 
 In the first place, we can form no adequate idea of the 
 pains which he was to endure upon the cross viewed simply 
 as an instrument of torture and a sign of disgrace. We do 
 not know what peculiar experiences he was to pass through 
 as a private individual, — experiences which might have over- 
 whelmed him even if he had sustained no peculiar relation 
 to the divine law and government. His merely physical 
 pains may have been more acute than those of other crucified 
 men. We do not forget that martyrs have not only hung 
 upon the cross, but, as in the case of Simon Peter, have borne 
 cruelties superadded to those of the fatal wood. Their tor- 
 tures have been prolonged by cunning devices ; refinements 
 of agony have been thought out for them ; the nail, the knife, 
 the saw, the screw, the pincers, the rack, the fire, the ice, 
 reptiles and vultures and beasts of prey have been studied in 
 their capabilities, so that they might all be applied in slow 
 succession to the victim, who was made by artificial means 
 to linger until every muscle was sundered with a cautious 
 violence, and not a nerve could stir without its appropriate 
 pang. 
 
 There are certain aspects, however, in which these in- 
 genious applications may have resulted in less pain of body 
 than was borne by our Saviour. We are unable to estimate 
 the peculiarity of his sensitiveness to all instruments of 
 ^ Mark xir. 33. 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 339 
 
 torture. We know that among men there is sometimes a 
 difference in the degree of their susceptibility to pain cor- 
 responding with the difference in the degree of their spiritual 
 refinement. Many a rude barbarian will pass unmoved 
 through tortures appalling enough to weary out the life of a 
 Fenclon or Cowper. Those filaments of our nature trans- 
 mitting sensations to the mind are in some men so delicate 
 as to vibrate like the strings of a wind-harp to the slightest 
 touch. Who, then, can tell what unparalleled sensitiveness 
 a man may acquire whose human attributes have become 
 united with the divine ? Who can imagine the delicacy of 
 fibre which he may possess whose feelings have never been 
 blunted by one sin, and whose whole system has been 
 quickened by the indwelling of a mind infinite in its activity ? 
 Not only his physical, but also his mental, experiences 
 relating to himself as a mere private individual may have 
 been far more painful than those of any other crucified one. 
 He had an acute feeling of brotherliness toward his fellow- 
 men, and this feeling may have made him the more sensitive 
 to their want of brotherliness toward him. He felt a peculiar 
 regard for the decorum and the propriety of things, the fit- 
 ness of returning friendship for friendship ; and when his 
 charity to men was reciprocated by their persecution of him 
 he was alive to the anomaly — the dissonance between true 
 love in the man who cherishes it and base ingratitude in the) 
 man who receives the love. Common sufferers endeavor tof -^ 
 divert their minds from pain; he sought for no diversion.' 
 He might have mitigated his grief ; he preferred not to call 
 for the twelve legions of angels, not to drink the wine mingled 
 with myrrh. The more intense his pain, so much the sweeter 
 would be his submission to the Father who was making 
 darkness his pavilion. Perhaps the Man of sorrows chose to 
 endure the pains of the cross because they were so poignant. 
 The exact balance of his susceptibilities is compatible with 
 their exquisite sensitiveness to every object, whether agree- 
 able or disagreeable ; and as such a being when among 
 
340 THE SOREOW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 congenial elements would be happier than any other, so when 
 exposed to the rudenesses and the roughnesses of a world 
 which had no sympathy with his virtue he may well have 
 been a man of unwonted sorrows and acquainted with pecu- 
 liar grief. Heaven was his home ; for heaven was he made ; 
 and therefore he may have been agitated by the sinners who 
 caused his death as by a generation of vipers. We read that 
 he " endured the cross, despising the shame" ; but he felt the 
 shame which he despised, and his merit for overlooking it is 
 the greater because he keenly appreciated the words, " Cursed 
 is every one that hangeth on a tree." His sense of honor 
 was kindred with his sense of honesty, and must have been 
 shocked when his perfect holiness was perceived only to be 
 " despised and rejected of men," ' when all they who saw 
 him laughed him to scorn, and did shoot out the lip and 
 shake the head, saying, He trusted in the Lord that he would 
 deliver him; let him deliver him, seeing he delighted in 
 him.' Who knows how quick he was to feel the pangs 
 which would have escaped the consciousness of a more 
 callous mind, — the pangs which came from his feeling of 
 desertion when his disciples forsook him, from his contempt 
 of meanness when one of them said, " Hail, Master ; and 
 kissed him." 
 
 It may be said that the private and individual pains which 
 our Redeemer endured on the cross were not worthy of his 
 sad anticipation ; but we must remember that his pains were 
 peculiar. They were mementos of all his antecedent suf- 
 ferings. They were inflicted on him without his having 
 deserved them. Tliey were worthy of being inflicted by the 
 Father, and therefore were worthy of being felt in all their 
 fulness by the Son. It is not our mission in life to suffer ; 
 it was his mission to suffer, therefore he was sensitive to all 
 the causes of suffering ; he did not lose the conviction that 
 he was hated because he deserved to be loved, that he was 
 persecuted because he was the friend and servant of his 
 persecutors. The signal peculiarity of his sufferings was, 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 341 
 
 that he hated sin with a perfect hatred, while he was sur- 
 rounded with sinners who exhibited their true character in 
 their enmity to him. The words uttered by the Psahnist in 
 shadowing forth the ideal of human perfection may have 
 been fitly repeated by him who realized that ideal : ' I am a 
 worm and no man, a reproach of men, and despised of the 
 people, for dogs have compassed me ; the assembly of the 
 wicked have inclosed me: they pierced my hands and my 
 feet. Bulls of Bashan have beset me round. They gaped 
 upon me with their mouths as a ravening and a roaring lion. 
 I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. 
 My heart is like wax ; it is melted within me.' ^ 
 
 In the second place, our minds are too blunt for any ade- 
 quate appreciation of the sufferings which our Redeemer 
 both anticipated and endured in his sympathy with the pains 
 of his fellow-men. The New Testament exhibits many proofs 
 of his commiseration for the corporeal woes of his friends 
 and of strangers. He had none of that affected spirituality 
 — a mark of one-sided goodness — which pretends to over- 
 look the physical pains of men for the sake of concentrating 
 the regard upori their mental troubles. He was so united 
 with our race that when one member suffered he was quick 
 to suffer with it, and when children were needlessly rebuked 
 it was as if a dart had pierced the apple of his eye.^ He laid 
 a marvellous emphasis on the gift of a cup of cold water to 
 the lowliest of his followers.^ Before the most august 
 assemblage in history he will say to them on his right hand, 
 ' I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat ; thirsty, and ye 
 gave me drink ' ; and to them on his left hand, ' I was sick, 
 and ye visited me not; in prison, and ye came not unto 
 me.' * Even a few minutes before he was nailed to the cross 
 he was touched at the heart by seeing the tears of those who 
 sorrowed for him, and he cried out, ' Daughters of Jeru- 
 
 1 Ps. xxii. 6, 16, 12, 13, 14. 2 Mark x. 14. 8 Matt. x. 42. 
 
 * Matt. XXV. 31-46. 
 
342 THE SOEROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 salem, weep not for me. but weep for yourselves ^ and your 
 infant ones, for lo, the days are coming when the mother's 
 soul shall be rent asunder with woe, and tlirice blessed shall 
 be a childless woman.' And even as he hung upon the cross, 
 whence he surveyed the wants of a world beneath him, he 
 could not forget the necessities of her who was verifying the 
 prophecy of Simeon, " A sword shall pierce through thine 
 own soul," 2 but let himself down from his lofty thoughts to 
 provide a home for her with his most domestic disciple. 
 When we read of his commiseration for individual sufferers, 
 can we presume to estimate the liveliness of his sympathy 
 as he took at once into his comprehensive view the sicknesses 
 and the dying pains of the whole race with whom he had 
 joined himself in brotherhood ? And if he were thus sensi- 
 tive to the frailties of the body, can we learn how poignant 
 were his griefs as he embraced in one and the same thought 
 all the mental woes that were to come or had come upon 
 all men — the suspense, the hope deferred, the fear, the 
 disappointment, the sorrow, the anguish, the despair which 
 would consume or had consumed the spirit of the race ? One 
 who had been in his own view the chief of sinners exclaimed, 
 " I have great sorrow and unceasing pain ii:i*my heart. For 
 I could wish that I myself were anathema from Christ for my 
 brethren's sake, my kinsmen according to the flesh." ^ This 
 grief of the apostle was inspired by his Master. What, then, 
 must have been the Master's grief as he cast his mind's eye 
 over the multitudes who would forever endure the pain of an 
 accusing conscience. Their troubles in this life were a 
 mirror in which he discerned their trouble in the life to come. 
 The temporal death of unrepenting men is their entrance 
 into eternal death, and the temporal death of sanctified men 
 is a memento of the eternal death which was threatened 
 to them in the law. We may suppose that there was a 
 spiritual meaning in the tears of our Lord at the grave of 
 Lazarus, whom in a few minutes he was to call forth from 
 
 1 Luke xxiii. 28. 2 £,^^6 ii. 35. » Rom. ix. 2, 3. 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 343 
 
 that grave. Did he weep merely at the thought of death 
 as a physical calamity, and of bereavement as a temporary 
 evil, or did he weep at the thought of death as a symbol of 
 the eternal woes which had fallen and were to fall on incor- 
 rigible transgressors ? There was a spiritual meaning in the 
 words which he uttered when he wept over the devoted city. 
 Did he shed those tears merely because one stone was not to ^ 
 be left on another, or did he shed them because the un-\ 
 humbled citizens were to be more wretched than the citizens i 
 of Sodom and Gomorrah, Tyre and Sidon, at the last day ? | 
 Wlien he cried, ' Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I, 
 and ye would not,' ^ he uttered mentally the same words to 
 all persevering transgressors, and mentally repeated the ex- 
 postulation of his Father, ' How shall I give you up ? how 
 shall I make thee as Admah ? how shall I set thee as Zeboim ? 
 Mine heart is turned within me ; my repentings are kindled 
 together.' ^ 
 
 We must be careful not to imply that our Redeemer 
 overlooked the slightest bodily or mental pain of either 
 his friends or his enemies. We must also be careful not to 
 imply that he regarded any pain either of body or of mind 
 in this life as the ultimate evil. His grief may have been 
 inconceivably aggravated by the thought that as the chastise- 
 ments in this world are symbols of the punishment in the 
 future world, so this punishment was to be inflicted "by 
 himself as the final Judge ; inflicted because he could not 
 honor the divine justice and the divine law unless he punished 
 the transgressors who persevered in rejecting his grace. 
 
 In the third place, our minds are too coarse to form an\ 
 adequate idea of the sorrow which our Redeemer felt and 
 anticipated in his meditation on the sin of men. We cannot' 
 duly estimate the evil of sin ; for we have committed it, andi 
 have thus made our consciences obtuse. We can form no 
 just conception of the displacency which we should have felt 
 
 1 Matt, xxiii. 37. 2 Hosea xi. 8. 
 
344 THE SOEROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 in view of transgression if we had never blurred our moral 
 sense by violating its commands. So far as wickedness is 
 viewed in its intrinsic relations, the ever blessed Jehovah 
 says, ' It is a trouble unto me, I am weary to bear it.' ^ 
 ' Men have wearied me by their iniquities.' ^ ' I cannot away 
 with them.' 3 " Ah, I will ease me of mine adversaries."* 
 Although the Psalmist had obscured his views of moral 
 wrong by having indulged in it, yet he said : ' The sorrows 
 of death compass me, and the pains of hell get hold upon 
 me.' ^ How much more bitter must have been the exclama- 
 tions of him whose moral sense was kept alive by his uniform 
 abhorrence of moral wrong, who yet was " made to be sin 
 on our behalf that we might become the righteousness of 
 God in him."^ While enduring his pains of body, he may 
 not have turned away his mind from the iniquity of which his 
 bodily pain was a memento. The nails which fastened him 
 to the cross may have fixed his attention upon our ill-desert 
 of which his cross was the sign. The sharpest spear that 
 pierced him was the guilt of men, and for a time every sen- 
 sil)ility of his nature may have been grated on by every form 
 of sin, — the sin of his ancestors, for whom he felt a filial 
 reverence ; the sin of his relatives, with whom he had lived 
 in fraternal love ; the sin of men whom he had incorporated 
 with himself as a branch with the vine ; the sin of his min- 
 isters, of his adopted children, of those who in one sense 
 represented him as he in another sense represented them, of 
 men whom he viewed as a kind of second self. It was the 
 sin of the whole race, for which he felt a shame far more 
 overwhelming than the shame of his cross. 
 
 "We have alluded to the union of a divine with a human 
 nature in the person of our Lord ; to the mysterious fact 
 that his human nature was not delivered by his divine 
 nature from all the terrors in Gcthsemane — that the Son 
 of Mary was not so invigorated ]3y his relation to the Son of 
 
 1 Isa. i. 14. -^ Isa. xliii. 24. ^ jga. i. 13. 
 
 * Isa. i. 24. 6 Pij. cxvi. 3. 6 2Cor. v. 21. 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 345 
 
 God that he could spend the evening before his crucifixion 
 in unmingled joj. It may be that his divine nature, instead 
 of making his burden the lighter, made it the heavier. In 
 his divine nature the God-man had a clear perception of all 
 the members of our race in all past and future time, of all 
 the iniquities to be committed by you and me, of every stain 
 upon your and my conscience, of all the woes clustering 
 around our misdeeds, of the inherent mischief and the es- 
 sential drift of every form of disobedience, of its very spirit 
 as an intrinsic evil, of its tendencies to unending evil. His 
 abhorrence of sin was infinite like his comprehension of it. 
 We cannot imagine the effects of this perfect abhorrence 
 and this unlimited comprehension upon the human nature 
 which had been taken up into a union with the divine. 
 Therefore we cannot fathom the depth of affliction from 
 which the sufferer in Gethsemane sent up the cry : Let this 
 extreme of bitterness in the cup of my grief and shame pass 
 from me that I drink it not ; let the dregs of this cup pass 
 from me, for it is the cup of sorrow and sadness in view of 
 the sin of men with whose nature I have identified myself ; 
 the sin of men who will remain my enemies, and on whom I 
 must pronounce a condemning sentence ; the sin of men 
 whom I shall make my friends, and whom I shall welcome 
 to my right hand ; for even the men who do the will of my 
 Father which is in heaven, and are saved by my grace, and 
 are my brothers and sisters and mothers, are yet stained 
 with the iniquities which are so loathsome to me. 
 
 In the fourth place, we cannot fathom the mystery of the 
 pains which our Saviour endured as an expiatory and a pro- 
 pitiatory sacrifice for sin. Our endless punishment would 
 have been an expression of the divine holiness and justice ; 
 the Mediator substituted himself for us, and his chastisement 
 was equivalent to our punishment in expressing what would 
 otherwise have been expressed in the sanction of the law. 
 There was a sword uplifted ; it was to fall upon us ; the 
 
B46 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 Mediator stepped before us, and took upon himself the wound 
 which was a substitute for our death. It was a symbol of the 
 moral penalty deserved by all men. It was a type of the 
 moral penalty which will be suffered by all men who remain 
 incorrigible. 
 
 In considering his work of atonement we must remember 
 two facts : One is, that a system of costly sacrifices for sin 
 was prescribed in the Levitical code ; another is, that this 
 impressive system was a type of the one sacrifice on Golgotha. 
 We must remember two other facts : One is, that the Levitical 
 sacrifices for sin were substituted for the penalty threatened 
 in the Levitical law ; another is, that the archetypal sacrifice 
 on Golgotha was substituted for the penalty of the moral law, 
 the universal and eternal law of God. We must remember 
 two other facts : One is, that our temporal death and the 
 the evils antecedent to it are said to be a curse inflicted on 
 account of sin ; the other is, that Christ as our representative 
 is said to have " become a curse for us." ^ The word came to 
 Adam : " Cursed is the ground for thy sake " ; the second 
 Adam walked over the ground, and the curse was not turned 
 away from him as he took his painful steps. The innocent 
 suffered for the guilty. His vicarious chastisement was an 
 expiation for our iniquities. It was as well fitted as our 
 eternal punishment would have been to counteract their 
 vicious influence, repair the damage which they would have 
 done to the interests of a pure moral government, uphold the 
 dignity of this government, the sanctity of its mandates, the 
 rectitude of its sanctions. The vicarious chastisement was 
 not merely piacular, it was propitiatory likewise. It not 
 only removed the obstacles to our pardon, but involved new 
 motives for the pardon. It not only prevented the necessity 
 of exercising justice, but made it both consistent and desir- 
 able to exercise grace. It presented reasons for our relief 
 from remorse and its attendant pains. It thus conciliated 
 the terrific power of conscience, and saved it from its in- 
 
 1 See Gen. iii. 14-19 ; Gal. iii. 13. 
 
THE SORKOW OF THE REDEEMER. 347 
 
 stinctive fears. ^ As it propitiated the lawgiver within us, 
 so it propitiated the Lawgiver above us. It involved reasons 
 for his bestowing a reward upon our Representative, for 
 honoring him with a crown of which the souls of regenerate 
 men are the jewels, for giving him ' the heathen for his in- 
 heritance and the uttermost parts of the earth for his pos- 
 session.' 2 
 
 If we had borne the penalty threatened by the Lawgiver, 
 that penalty would have honored the moral attributes which 
 he has revealed in his law ; the substituted pains of Christ 
 have revealed and honored the same attributes. Even if he 
 had been stoical, as he never was, in view of his pains as 
 private and individual, they would have been aggravated by 
 the fact of their public relation, by the fact that they were 
 borne for the race, were chastisements for the sin of his 
 fellow-men, were signs of the abhorrence with which his 
 Father viewed it, were symbols of the penalty which is due 
 to it, were types of the moral penalty which on the principles 
 of mere law will follow it. We have sinned, our chastise- 
 ments are deserved by us, and therefore have one meaning ; 
 Christ had not sinned, his chastisements were not deserved 
 by him, and therefore have a different meaning. 
 
 If we had borne the threatened penalty it would have 
 tended to forewarn other minds of the evil resulting from 
 transgression ; the substituted pains of Christ have the same 
 tendency and intent. Even on his way to the cross he fore- 
 warned men of the punishment awaiting the incorrigible. 
 He intimated that if the divine compassion would not inter- 
 pose to relieve an innocent man from the chastisement not 
 deserved by him, but inflicted for the sin of others, then the 
 divine compassion would not interpose to relieve guilty men 
 from the punishment deserved by them and inflicted on 
 account of their own sin. A signal emphasis is due to the 
 words uttered between the scene of his trial and the scene 
 
 1 See sermon on " Conscience," pp. 260, 264, 265, 275, 279, 283, 284, 289, 290. 
 2P8. ii. 8; Isa. liii. 10, 12. 
 
348 THE SORROW OP THE REDEEMER. 
 
 of his execution : " If they do these things in the green tree, 
 what shall be done in the dry ?" ^ These words define the 
 chastisement of our Lord as involving not merely a promise 
 to his friends, but also a threatening to his implacable 
 enemies. If under the government of God a man must 
 suffer who has allied himself with transgressors but himself 
 is no transgressor, how much more must men suffer who 
 have been actual transgressors and are as fit for punishment 
 as tinder is fit for the flame. If God will not turn his laws 
 out of their course in order to secure the perfect happiness 
 of a perfect man, much less will he turn his laws out of 
 their course in order to secure the perfect happiness of guilty 
 men. "When we reflect on the dignity of our Redeemer, 
 the loveliness of his character, the severity of his pains, the 
 prophecies which he uttered in reference to his own chastise- 
 ment and the future punishment of men, we feel as sure 
 that incorrigible men will be punished according to their 
 demerit as we should feel if penitent men, instead of being 
 redeemed, had been actually punished according to their 
 demerit. His pains express what their punishment would 
 have expressed. Hence it is fit that he should have antici- 
 pated them with dread. They not only hold out a menace 
 to the incorrigible, but they justify the infliction of all the 
 pain which is menaced. They are an expression of the love 
 which explains and is explained by the doctrine of punish- 
 ment. It is not the mere sentiment of love ; it is the love 
 which comprehends justice and proves the necessity of it. 
 It is the principle of love, and when it promises that "whoso- 
 ever believeth on " Christ shall have eternal life, it threatens 
 that whosoever believeth not shall " perish." ^ When clouds 
 were around the throne our suffering Redeemer kept up his 
 trust in the Lawgiver, and thus proved that the Lawgiver is 
 trustworthy even in his severest inflictions. While darkness 
 was the pavilion of him who was putting his Son to grief, 
 the grieved One addressed him, not with the bare appellative 
 
 1 Luke xxiii. 31. See also 1 Pet. iv. 17, 18. ^ joim ij;. ig. 
 
THE SORKOW OF THE REDEEMER. 349 
 
 " God " or " God," but uttered and repeated the words 
 " My God," and thus clung with confidence to him by whom 
 he was ' stricken, smitten, and afifiicted.' He was afflicted 
 for others, and they deserved what lie suffered. 
 
 The nature of the sacrificial pains inflicted on our Substi- 
 tute during his entire life, but emphatically in his death, is 
 intimated in the fact that He whose word cannot be broken 
 had promised to deliver pious men from evil, but he inflicted 
 the evil upon the only pious man who did not deserve it. 
 "We do not dare to imagine the peculiarities of expression 
 with which the Father's eye looked upon the Son or the Son's 
 eye looked upon the Father when " it pleased the Lord to 
 bruise him." The moment came, however, when the eye of 
 the Father was hidden from that of the Son. " My God, my 
 God, why hast thou forsaken me?" are the words which he 
 cried out ; the Evangelists add that he cried out with a loud 
 voice. They repeat the original Aramaic words which he 
 uttered, and then add a translation of the words. Thus they 
 emphasize the lamentation, and ' seem unwilling that a single 
 tone of it should be lost.' ^ It is the law of God not to abandon 
 men unless they abandon him. Solemnly and repeatedly he 
 explained to his ancient people the meaning of his providence 
 in abandoning them, and the principle on which he marked 
 them with this sign of his displeasure. " My anger," he says, 
 " shall be kindled against them in that day, and I will forsake 
 them, and I will hide my face from them, and they shall be 
 devoured, and many evils and troubles shall befall them ; 
 so that they will say in that day, Are not these evils come 
 upon us, because our God is not among us ?" ^ " The Lord 
 is with you while ye be with him, and if ye seek him he will 
 be found of you, but if ye forsake him he will forsake you."^ 
 "For the Lord loveth. judgment and forsaketh not his saints, 
 they are preserved forever ; but the seed of the wicked shall 
 
 1 See Note at the end of the sermon, p. 352 sq. 
 
 2 Deut. xxxi. 17. See likewise 2 Kings xxi. 11-14; Isa. lix. 2 ; Lam. v. 20- 
 22 ; Ezek. xxxix. 23. 
 
 8 2 Chron. xv. 2. 
 
350 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 be cut off." 1 The significant fact is, that Christ did not 
 forsake his Father, but his Father forsook him. We often 
 read that God hides his face from men on the ground of 
 their iniquity.^ " "Wlierefore hidest thou thy face, and boldest 
 me for thine enemy ?"^ is the question of one who had 
 attempted to cover up his sins. " Why hast thou forsaken 
 me ?" is the question of One who was bearing marks of the 
 divine indignation against the sinners in whose place he stood. 
 Was his displacency of conscience toward their sin more 
 painful to him than their remorse of conscience was painful 
 to them, and did his moral sense give him no such prophecy 
 of coming bliss as is given to the saints in whose stead he 
 died ? In his act of bearing their sins was his agony on account 
 of them so great as to expel all soothing thoughts ? While 
 he was hanging between two malefactors, and forsaken by 
 his disciples, was he on a sudden shut out from participation 
 in his Father's joy ? Did he perceive nothing more than his 
 Father's abhorrence of sin and justice to the sinner ? Was 
 his mind absorbed with the loathsomeness of transgression 
 and the Lawgiver's determination to punish it ? Did he 
 catch no glimpse of those bright designs which had cheered 
 the saints of old ? Did he in an ominous solitude, without 
 the faintest beam of sympathy from the spirits around the 
 throne, look steadfastly into and through the moral results 
 of sin, — into and through the abyss which was never to be 
 uncovered without relief before any other pure spirit ? Was 
 even his profound mind left to wonder at the strangeness of 
 the pain that seized him ? and did he therefore express his 
 amazement in his inquiry for the reasons of his being left 
 alone to struggle with death and the principalities of evil 
 whose hour had come ? 
 
 It is good that many mysteries should darken the scene of 
 our Redeemer's crucifixion, for thereby our minds go round 
 about it wondering at the richness that lies hidden within it. 
 •But amid the many mysteries some things are plain. They 
 
 1 Ps. xxxvii. 28. - Jer. xxxiii. 5. ** Job xiii. 24. 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 351 
 
 are made plain by the forebodings of our Redeemer in the 
 garden. It is plain that we are redeemed "with precious 
 blood, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot, even 
 the blood of Christ " ; ^ that ' all we like sheep have gone 
 astray,' and have deserved to be wounded for our own 
 transgressions, ' but the Lord hath laid upon him the iniquity 
 of us all, and by his stripes we are healed ; that the chastise- 
 ment of our peace was upon him,' ^ and his endurance of it 
 was put in the place of the punishment due to us. The 
 fearful apprehensions of our Redeemer in the garden lead us 
 to the faith that his chastisement was of equal avail with our 
 punishment in vindicating the justice and veracity of him 
 who had threatened the punishment. The Mediator came 
 into the world, not in order that he might exercise the inward 
 virtues required of him by the precepts of the law, but in 
 order that he might manifest the rectitude of the law in its 
 sanctions as well as precepts. He came not for the mere 
 purpose of having an abhorrence of sin, but for the purpose 
 of expressing his Father's abhorrence of it, and of enduring 
 the chastisement which was the sign of that abhorrence. He 
 came not merely for the sake of feeling love to men and of 
 doing good to them, but for the purpose of exhibiting and 
 honoring the justice of the Father in the penalties which He 
 had threatened to sinners. We cannot sympathize with 
 men who think that the death of our Saviour has been com- 
 paratively overrated, and that his terror in view of it was 
 excessive. If his fears were unreasonable, then the colors 
 in which the apostles have pictured his reward are exag- 
 gerated. In order to be of equal avail with the penalty 
 which we deserved, the vicarious chastisement must have been 
 overwhelming. The height of the Redeemer's joy in the 
 retrospect of his cross explains the depth of his grief in the 
 prospect of it ; the unprecedented severity of his pains gives 
 a reason for the unprecedented magnificence of his reward. 
 He rose so high because he had sunk so low. The super- 
 
 ^ 1 Pet. i. 19. !2 Isa. liii. 5, 6. 
 
352 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 structure was lofty because the foundation was deep. His 
 death is the central fact occurring between the grief with 
 which it was foreseen and the glory with which it was fol- 
 lowed ; between the lengthened preparation for it at the 
 Jewish altars and the continued celebration of it in the New 
 Jerusalem. When he instituted the memorial of himself he 
 did not prescribe the image of his sceptre or of his crown, 
 but he prescribed the broken bread and the wine poured 
 forth. The sceptre was his recompense for his contest with 
 principalities and powers ; the crown was his reward for 
 having overcome the sharpness of death. The more fully 
 we recognize the import of his sorrow in Gethsemane, so 
 much the more clearly shall we see the wealth of his an- 
 nouncement : " I am the first and the last and the living 
 one ; and I was dead, and behold I am alive for evermore ; 
 and I have the keys of death and of Hades." 
 
 NOTE TO PAGE 349. 
 
 " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" These words, 
 recorded in Matt, xxvii. 46 ; Mark xv. 34, have been commonly 
 interpreted as indicating the extreme of our Redeemer's pains, and 
 as illustrating the nature of his atonement. Their importance, 
 however, has been sometimes denied or depreciated. Their mean- 
 ing and value may be determined by the following, among other 
 considerations : 
 
 1. The words of our Lord in regard to his desertion should be 
 interpreted in a manner harmonizing with his general character. 
 This was a peculiar character, and leads us to associate a peculiar 
 significance with his words. To some of his utterances, considered 
 merely by themselves, we may either ascribe a meaning common and 
 comparatively ignoble or, on the other hand, a meaning uncommon 
 and comparatively exalted. If an ordinary man had uttered the same 
 words we should feel no impulse to explain them as conveying more 
 than an ordinary idea. But the excellence of Christ is so unprece- 
 dented and so impressive that we are prompted to exj-lain his words 
 as conveying an idea harmonious with that excellence. If an ordi- 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 353 
 
 dinary nan had said to Martha, " One thing is needful," ^ we might 
 have interpreted him as meaning that one article of food is sufficient ; 
 but we cannot so interpret the great Teacher. If a common person 
 had said, ' God is greater than I,' we might have criticised him as 
 saying what indeed sounds lowly to the ear, but indicates a trifling 
 or a vain spirit. How could a sensible man think of affirming that 
 he is inferior to the Infinite One ? When our Saviour declares 
 ' God is greater than I,' ^ we ascribe to him no idea indicative of 
 either a trifling or a vain mind. We feel an impulse to interpret 
 his utterance as distinguishing his own earthly condition from the 
 heavenly condition of his Father; as intimating that he did not 
 eagerly retain the heavenly state which he had enjoyed before the 
 world was, but he freely gave it up and came down into the estate 
 of men.^ So if an ordinary Christian should exclaim on his death- 
 bed, " My God, why hast thou forsaken me ? " we might interpret 
 his complaint as signifying that his body was too weak to allow the 
 full action of his mind ; that he could obtain no clear view of God 
 because his intellectual eye became dim when the physical eye 
 became glazed ; the state of the brain repressed the energies of the 
 soul. But when Christ uttered these words we ascribe to them 
 a significance reaching down to the depths of his character. We 
 remember his sayings : " I knew that thou hearest me always " ; * 
 " It is my Father that glorifieth me " ; * "I and the Father are 
 one."* When, therefore, on a sudden, he seems to lose confidence 
 in the promise, " I will in no wise fail thee, neither will I in any 
 wise forsake thee";^ when he comes to a sudden turn of his speech, 
 and his voice sounds like a wail rather than a note of trust, and he 
 inquires into the reason for his being deserted, we have an impulse 
 to ascribe the unprecedented change to an unprecedented cause, to 
 believe in his mysterious affliction rather than in his moral weakness 
 or mental confusion. If he were suffering an ordinary calamity he 
 would not have uttered such a complaint without any apologetic 
 words, without any attempt to justify his Maker for thus forsaking 
 him in the midst of his calamity. 
 
 2. The words of our Lord in regard to his desertion should be 
 interpreted in a manner harmonizing with the tone of sentiment 
 
 1 Luke X. 42. '^ John xiv. 28. » Phil. ii. 5-8. ■• John xi. 42 
 
 6 John viii. 54. ^ John x. 3». 
 
 7 Heb. xiii. 5. See also Deut. xxxi. 6, 8 ; Josh. i. 5 ; 1 Chron. xxviii. 20 
 
354 THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 
 
 which characterized his last hours. "We are told by some critics that 
 in these words he was directing his mind and the minds of others to 
 the twenty-second Psalm, that he cited the first verse of it as an 
 introduction to the triumphant strains with which the Psalm con- 
 cludes. This criticism is not coincident with what seems to have 
 been his train of thought during his hours of suffering on the cross. 
 These do not seem to be hours in which he " rejoiced in spirit," but 
 the hours in which he was drinking the cup from which he prayed 
 to be delivered. They do not seem to be hours for his referring 
 like a commentator to verses which he did not repeat. The " loud 
 voice " of his outcry does not appear to be a sign that he was cheered 
 by quotations on which he kept silent, but rather that he was 
 saddened by the quotation which he repeated in a piercing tone. If 
 his mind had been occupied with the triumphal sentiments of the 
 tw.enty-second Psalm, why did he not repeat them " with a loud 
 voice " ? Why did he not say, " I will declare thy name unto my 
 brethren : in the midst of the congregation will I praise thee. For 
 he hath not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, 
 neither hath he hid his face from him ; but when he cried unto him, 
 he heard"? ^ If the Redeemer had quoted these and similar strains, 
 the impression left by the narrative of his last hours would have 
 been different from that which has been made upon the church in 
 all time. The tone in which he uttered his prayer did not indicate 
 to the Romans and Jews who were near him that he was indulging 
 in emotions of victory. The entire narrative of the Evangelists has 
 impressed on the majority of its readers a conviction that his prayer 
 was an expression of unmingled anguish. 
 
 3, The words of our Lord in regard to his desertion should be 
 interpreted in a manner harmonizing with the general style of the 
 biblical passages which refer to his atonement. These passages 
 imply that his death was the great event of his earthly existence, 
 and his triumph was not intermingled with it, but was consequent 
 upon it. He was first crowned with thorns, and afterward crowned 
 with glory ; was first overladen with sadness, and afterward thrilled 
 with joy. His triumph was no more intermingled with the bruises 
 which his Father inflicted upon him than his resurrection was inter- 
 mingled with his burial. It is as natural to think of the lamb 
 triumphing when laid on the sacrificial altar as of Christ triumphing 
 
 1 Ps. xxii. 22, 24 sq. 
 
THE SORROW OF THE REDEEMER. 355 
 
 when he became the sacrificial victim on Golgotha. His coronation 
 ode, in the second Psalm, was indited on the ground of his antece- 
 dent death.^ ' He was despised and rejected of men ; it pleased 
 
 the Lord to bruise him,' etc. — " therefore will I divide him a 
 portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; 
 because he hath poured out his soul unto death." ^ " He endured 
 the cross, despising the shame," — " for the joy that was set before 
 him." ^ " Concerning which salvation the prophets sought — search- 
 ing what time or what manner of time the Spirit of Christ which 
 was in them did point unto, when it testified beforehand the suffer- 
 ings of Christ and the glories that should follow them." * Passages 
 like these indicate the general fact that the sufferings of Christ were 
 momentous in their nature, and were therefore followed by his 
 triumph. In unison with this general fact, his avowal of desertion 
 may be interpreted as denoting his pain, and not the triumph which 
 was to follow the pain. 
 
 The idea of some, that in uttering the first verse of the twenty- 
 second Psalm our Lord had reference to the entire Psalm, and 
 especially to its joyous parts, is inconsistent with the idea of others 
 that his cry of desertion was prompted by his mental weakness 
 resulting from his bodily fatigue and distress. Of course, we do not 
 deny that the position of the body on the cross had an injurious in- 
 fluence on the brain of the sufferer who had been harassed and 
 wearied through the preceding night. We must not forget, how- 
 ever, the superiority of the sufferer's mind, nor the strength of his 
 faith, as they were fitted to overcome the tortures of his body. 
 Besides, his physical weakness did not prevent his uttering his 
 lamentation " with a loud voice,"* and afterwards uttering another 
 sentence •' with a loud voice." * Of his seven words on the cross, 
 his outcry of desertion was the intermediate one — the fourth. The 
 three sentences which followed it are signs that amid all his weak- 
 ness and weariness of body he still retained the power and elevation 
 of mind which had marked his antecedent history. 
 
 1 Eom. i. 4 ; Acts xiii. 33. 2 jga. Hii. o_i2 ; Phil. ii. 9-11. 
 
 8 Heb. xii. 2. ♦ 1 Pet. i. 10, 11. ^ ^igtt. xxvii. 46. See also Mark xv. 34. 
 6 Luke xxiii. 46. See also Matt, xxvii. 50 ; Mark xv. 37. 
 
XIV. 
 
 THE RIGHTEOUS MAN'S SATISFACTION ¥ITH 
 THE CHARACTER OE GOD. 
 
 PSALM XVII. 16. 
 
 AS POK ME, 1 WILL BEHOLD THY PACE IN EIGHTEOUSITESS ; I BHALL BE BATISFIED^ 
 WHEN I AWAKE, WITH THY LIKENESS. 
 
 To be satisfied ! To be saved from all physical craving ; 
 to have every intellectual want precisely met ; to be sur- 
 rounded with all objects which can minister to all right 
 desires of the soul ; to feel no emotions save those which are 
 filled full with joy ; to indulge no affections save those which 
 have enough and give enough of bliss ; to possess all which 
 one chooses to possess, and nothing besides ; to be freed 
 from everything which one chooses to miss, and to want 
 nothing else ; to feel no necessity, and no wish for more or 
 fewer companions and friends, for larger pr smaller learning 
 or wealth, for better or even other employments or reliefs, 
 for higher or fuller joys or hopes — all this is to be satisfied I 
 
 If the thing be so, then I am not satisfied. Every man is 
 conscious of desires that find here no befitting object. He 
 is disquieted with evil longings, which are, and must be, as 
 they ought to be, unfulfilled. Nothing here comes up to the 
 full aspirations of the soul. Even when we arrive at the 
 true and the highest good, we are drawn downward and 
 backward by our erring and degrading habits. The imagi- 
 nary ills, the groundless fears, the selfish disappointments, 
 
THE SATISFACTION OP THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 357 
 
 the exorbitant claims, the wilful schemes, of man have made 
 his heart like the sea, ever restless, its waves rising, and 
 reaching nothing, and then falling down, finding no sure 
 stay. From one to another, and then another, and still one 
 more vanity, our passions fly, tossed ever to and fro. 
 
 I am not satisfied : that is very sure ; and I never was 
 satisfied. Almost every man may say, ' I once struggled to 
 gain a prize, and it receded from me just as I had come near 
 it. I had found my happiness in a friend, and as a dream 
 he vanished out of my sight.' Wlien we form a lifelike 
 picture of man, we paint him an eager aspirant, stretching 
 forth his hand to pluck the fruit 'while the bough shrinks 
 away from his grasp. 
 
 If any friend of the world has been successful in his search 
 for bliss, it was that accomplished nobleman who during the 
 last eighteen years of his life expressed in scattered para- 
 graphs the vanity of his search.^ He writes : " I have run 
 the silly rounds both of pleasure and business, and have done 
 with them all."^ — " Even when I reflect back upon what I 
 have seen, what I have heard, and what I have done myself, 
 I can hardly persuade myself that all that frivolous hurry 
 and bustle and pleasures of the world had any reality ; but 
 they seem to have been the dreams of restless nights." ^ — 
 " I have enjoyed all " the pleasures of the world, "and conse- 
 quently know their futility, and do not regret their loss. I 
 appraise them at their real value, which in truth is very low ; 
 whereas those who have not experienced, always over-rate, 
 
 1 These paragraphs are found in the fourth volume of " The Miscellaneous 
 Works of the late Philip Dormer Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield," compiled by 
 M. Maty, M.D. The sentences of Lord Chesterfield have been often published 
 as if they belonged to a single paragraph and were written at one and the same 
 time. The expressiveness of them is augmented by the fact that they were 
 •written at different periods of his life, and represent his habitual disappointment 
 and regret. 
 
 '■^ Miscellaneous "Works, etc.. Vol. iv. p. 311. Lord Chesterfield's Letter to 
 Bishop Clienevix in 1766. 
 
 '•^ Ibid., pp. 283, 284. To the same, in 1759. 
 
358 THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 
 
 tliem. They only see their gay outside, and are dazzled with 
 their glare ; but 1 have been behind the scenes." ^ — "I have 
 seen all the coarse pulleys and dirty ropes which exhibit and 
 move all the gaudy machines ; and I have seen and smelt the 
 tallow candles which illuminate the whole decoration, to the 
 astonishment and admiration of the ignorant audience." ^ — 
 " I look upon all that has passed as one of those romantic 
 dreams that opium commonly occasions, and I do by no 
 means desire to repeat the nauseous dose, for the sake of 
 the fugitive dream." ^ — "I have exhausted all the physical 
 ills of Pandora's box, without finding hope at the bottom 
 of it." 4 
 
 Nor is it merely the polite courtier who proclaims the 
 inanity of mere secular pursuits. An enthusiastic scholar? 
 in view, not of his amusements, but even his graver studies, 
 has written : " I have looked over Hutten, Vivos, Erasmus, 
 Scaliger, Salmasius, Casaubon, and many other critical gram- 
 marians, and all Gruterus's critical volumes. I have read 
 almost all the physics and metaphysics I could hear of. I 
 liave wasted much of my time among whole loads of his- 
 torians, chronologers, and antiquaries ; I despise none of 
 their learning. All truth is useful ; mathematics, which I 
 have least of, I find a pretty manlike sport. But if I had 
 no other kind of knowledge than these, what were my under- 
 standing worth ? what a dreaming dotard should I be ! 
 
 I have higher thoughts of the schoolmen than Erasmus and 
 our other grammarians had : I much value the method and 
 sobriety of Aquinas, the subtilty of Scotus and Occam, the 
 plainness of Durandus, the solidity of Ariminensis, the pro- 
 fundity of Bradwardine, the excellent acuteness of many of 
 their followers — of Aureolus, Capreolus, Bannes, Alvarez, 
 Zumel, etc. ; of Mayro, Lychetus, Trombeta, Faber, Meurisse, 
 
 ^ Miscellaneous "Works, etc., Vol. iv. pp. 255, 256. Lord Chesterfield's Letter 
 to Bishop Chcnevix in 1766. 
 
 2 Ibid., p. 40. To Mr. Dayrolles, in 1748. 
 8 Ibid., p. 256. To Bishop Chenevix, in 1755. 
 * Ibid., p. 330. To the same, in 1771. 
 
THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 359 
 
 E-ada, etc. ; of Ruiz, Pennatus, Suarez, Vasquez, etc. ; of 
 Hurtado, of Albertinus, of Liid. a Dola, and many otliers. 
 But how loath should I be to take such sauce for my food 
 and such recreations for my business ! The jingling of too 
 much and too false philosophy among them oft drowns the 
 noise of Aaron's bells." ^ 
 
 It is, and has been, the design of Providence to teach men 
 by example that a finite world is incompetent to fill out the 
 demands of an immortal mind ; and therefore it was as a 
 prophecy of what is to be in all time, and as a history of 
 what has been ever since the Fall, that the disappointed 
 monarch wrote the epitaph for every successful aspirant for 
 wealth or power. " I made me great works ; I builded me 
 houses ; I made me gardens and orchards ; I gathered me 
 also silver and gold ; so I was great, and increased more than 
 all that were before me in Jerusalem. And whatsoever mine 
 eyes desired, I kept not from them. Then I looked on all the 
 works that my hands had wrought, and, behold, all was 
 vanity and vexation of spirit." ^ 
 
 If, therefore, the titled statesman and the erudite scholar 
 and the opulent king have been so discontented with all their 
 gains, something more is true than that I am not satisfied, 
 and never was satisfied. This is true : I can never expect 
 to be satisfied on this earth. Here the stupor of sleep is 
 upon me. A little more sleep, a little more slumber, a little 
 more folding of the hands to sleep, is the language of dark- 
 minded men. The greatest truths are wrapped up in the 
 
 1 The Practical "Works of the Late Reverend and Pious Mr. Richard Baxter. 
 London, 1707. Vol. iv. back of p. 499. 
 
 ^ Eccl. ii. 4-11. Lord Chesterfield supposing that the above cited words were 
 spoken by Solomon, says : "I now read Solomon with a sort of sympathetic 
 feeling. I have been as wicked and as vain, though not so wise as he : but am 
 now at last wise enough to feel and attest the truth of his reflection, that all is 
 vanity and vexation of spirit. Tliis truth is never sufficiently discovered or 
 felt by mere speculation ; experience in this case is necessary for conviction, 
 though perhaps at the expense of some morality." — Miscellaneous Works, Vol. 
 iv. p. 287. 
 
360 THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 
 
 thickest of the night. A dream, a fleeting sliow is all this 
 world. Having eyes, we see not the forms ; having ears, we 
 hear not the voices from heaven imdting us ever upward, 
 while we are ever refusing to move from our low estate. 
 And in this dreamy life we put darkness for light, the 
 visionary for the real, the rough for the smooth, and we 
 know not at what we stumble. 
 
 But not always shall I sleep. I shall awake. I shall 
 behold the face of God in righteousness. In this world there 
 are periods when righteous men rise into new views of their 
 Maker and new degrees of joy in him. Through long hours 
 of darkness they are disconsolate ; but the night passes 
 away ; the sun as a bridegroom comes out of his chamber, 
 and rejoices as a strong man to run a race. Through long 
 hours of weariness and mental confusion the friends of God 
 may take a kind of rest in him ; Ijut ere long they will come 
 to hours of vigor and mental concentration, when their rest 
 will give way to triumph in him. 
 
 In the future world there are two periods when the 
 righteous will have new reasons for exulting in their Maker.'-* 
 The Christian looks forward with the brightest hope to one 
 or the other of these two periods. So soon as his soul is 
 released from the body, it will rise as on the wings of an 
 eagle to new knowledge and new bliss. In some aspects 
 death is the rousing of the spirit to the realities of life. 
 Then is the eye of the intellect opened. Then, at death, is 
 the mental ear made sensitive to every word of God as no 
 uncertain sound. Then, at death, we pass into intimate 
 contact with him who keepeth all created minds vigilant in 
 their measure like himself. When the Christian repeats the 
 words of our text he often alludes to this breaking up of his 
 spiritual slumber, and says that the present world is a dream, 
 and the bright world to which he goes is one of wakeful joy. 
 But he often alludes to a richer scene than this. In some 
 
 1 See Note A, at the end of the sermon, p. 374. 
 
THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 361 
 
 aspects he looks at the end of life as the end of trouble, and 
 therefore looks at death as a state of rest, of sleep in Jesus. 
 He looks at the grave as the bed on which the body takes its 
 long repose ; but he looks forward to the awakening of the 
 body from this peaceful slumber. The trumpet shall sound, 
 and all they who are fallen asleep in Christ shall come forth 
 incorruptible. "What was sown in weakness and dishonor 
 shall be raised in power and glory. Then " as we have borne 
 the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image of the 
 heavenly." 
 
 " And as for me," if I have cherished the faith of a 
 righteous man, then when I awake I shall behold thy face in 
 righteousness ; and at my dying hour and at the last day I 
 shall not open my eyes in disquiet, but I shall be satisfied 
 with thy likeness. A devout heart is a prophecy of ultimate 
 enjoyment. As the wings of a bird prove its destination to 
 fly in the air ; as the instincts of a fish attest the design of its 
 Maker that it swim in the sea, so do a man's devout aspira- 
 tions for a purer than earthly joy indicate that he was made 
 for heaven, and will reach his full blessedness when he has 
 roused himself from his deceptive sleep and become united 
 with the Spirit who never slumbereth. We are sure of a 
 holy peace, if we have a holy appetence for it. Let us cherish 
 a pure love toward the Infinite Mind, and that love will 
 attain its satisfaction in an intimate communion with that 
 mind. Blessed are they that hunger, for their very desire of 
 food is a pledge that they will enjoy the feast. 
 
 In the first place, the righteous man will be satisfied with 
 the divine intellect. It is in compliance with the imperfect 
 language of men that we speak of their Maker's intellect. 
 This is his power to perceive all truth, — all facts and all 
 possibilities. Heaven is the abode of minds bearing his 
 intellectual image ; of men risen, and still rising, far above 
 the standard which they attained on earth; of men who 
 received while here the admiration of the wise — how much 
 
862 THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 
 
 more worthy to receive it there. Our faith is that astrono- 
 mers greater than Newton will be born into the world, 
 logicians moi-e acute than Chillingworth, metaphysicians 
 brighter than Thomas Aquinas, doctors of the civil law more 
 learned than Selden and Grotius ; and that such men, higher 
 than those who have yet enlightened the world, ' will like 
 the kings bring their glory and honor into heaven.' But he 
 who holds the stars in their courses, and looks down upon 
 the whole panorama of our astronomy as but a map of one 
 obscure section of his empire,-^ he who gave the original 
 principles to the mind, and has an intuition of truth compared 
 with which all our logical processes are but the first efforts 
 of a child to spell out the words as hard to him as they are 
 familiar to his parents, — he who first revealed to man the 
 profound maxims of jurisprudence, and formed our con- 
 sciences so that we must revere the law whose voice is " the 
 harmony of the world," and whose " seat is the bosom of 
 God," — he who has constructed his material and spiritual 
 universe in exact correspondence with those rules which the 
 mathematician and the moralist glory in discovering, — he 
 whose infinite knowledge is as orderly and exact as if the 
 laws of geometry were designed to be a mere crude symbol 
 of it, — he is to become the near friend of devout men, 
 so near that they shall ' behold his face.' ^ They will be 
 gratified with the society of the great captains, the brave 
 admirals, the mathematicians, the historians, and the sacred 
 philosophers whom they will meet in that world of large 
 minds ; but they will be satisfied with the intellect devising 
 all these objects, the imperfect knowledge of which constitutes 
 human science; that intellect contriving all these minds 
 which become renowned as the mere observers of his works ; 
 that august, capacious, unmeasurable, reverend mind, who 
 radiates knowledge upon his friends by allowing them to 
 see his face in righteousness, and converse with him not " in 
 dark speeches," but as a man converseth with his friend. 
 
 1 Probably these words have reference to Num. xii. 8, a verse which derivfta 
 its emphasis from its contrast with Exod. xxxiii. 20. 
 
THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 363 
 
 111 the second place, the righteous maii will be satisfied 
 with the divine sensibilities. Here, again, we use a word 
 which reflects honor upon the creature, but seems almost 
 irreverent when applied to the Creator. The righteous man 
 will be satisfied with God as the Spirit all whose involuntary 
 emotions are exactly appropriate to their objects. With his 
 infinite intellect he unites an immeasurable love for all that 
 is beautiful, — and under the beautiful we comprehend all 
 that is fair and majestic, fine and noble, grand and sublime, 
 in the sphere of matter and of spirit. Beauty includes all 
 the attributes which delight the taste, and when it exists in 
 material objects it is a symbol of beauty in immaterial 
 objects. That which pleases us in the flower-garden is an 
 emblem of that which pleases us in the natural virtues. The 
 love for the graceful or sublime in the visible world has a 
 normal kinship with a love for the graceful or sublime in the 
 invisible. 
 
 "We anticipate such a progress in the schools of art that 
 painters will arise more spiritual than Fra Angelico, archi- 
 tects nobler. than Michael Angelo, musicians more select 
 than Mozart, Haydn, or Handel, poets more ethereal than 
 Milton or Dante. The righteous man beholding without a 
 veil the divine character will at some period of his exis- 
 tence behold multitudes of more winning spirits than ever 
 yet adorned the earth. He will be gratified with those 
 choice minds of whom as yet the world has not been worthy ; 
 those translated and transfigured artists who will reveal 
 new beauties of color to his eye, or untwine some new 
 mystic chord of harmony, or realize unheard-of ideals in 
 song.^ But he is to be satisfied when he beholds the face 
 of him from whose infinite love of beauty our painters and 
 sculptors have received their infinitesimal love ; wlio has 
 spread the vermilion and the violet and the orange over the 
 
 1 " If there be not in heaven that music which is heard with Uie outward ear, 
 there is, at least, nothing known on earth which can so fitly as music symbolize 
 the mode in which the saints and angels actually do express their feelings."-— 
 Dr. Thomas Hill in Bibliotheca Sacra, Vol. xxxvii. p. 250. 
 
364 THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 
 
 earth in order that his children may arrange them into pic- 
 tures which, after all, are but copies of his own originals. 
 The human artist wears out his life in chiselling flowers on 
 the marble. He can chisel but few of them. They have no 
 pliancy, no fragrance, no varying tints, no life. They are 
 partial imitations of the flowers which are renewed every 
 year or month or week upon the ground, and load the air 
 with sweet odors, and delight the eye with their ever chang- 
 ing tints. We do not cease to praise the mind of the artist 
 for his imitations. His taste and skill deserve to be honored. 
 There is no well turned cornice, no curious frieze, no majestic 
 architrave, no magnificent column nor dome, which does 
 not attest the sense of beauty or of sublimity belonging to 
 some gifted one of the sons of man. But he who endued 
 men with that exquisite taste, he who made the eye for 
 all these lovely scenes, shall not he perceive what he has 
 enabled his children to discern ? He who has made the ear, 
 shall not he know as much as that ear detects ? And what 
 are all the entablatures and towers and domes of human 
 artifice compared with this vast temple of the world which 
 has the stars for the gilding of its roof, and mines of gold 
 for the pillars that sustain its floor, and the rose and the lily 
 and the jessamine ever renewing themselves in the carpet 
 that blooms for us to tread upon while we are walking 
 through the temple, resonant as its wide spaces are with 
 the hymns of the forests, and the eternal anthem of the 
 waves of the sea ? And this God is our God ; and his per- 
 ception of beauty is so clear, his love of sublimity is so full, 
 that we degrade it if we call it by the name of taste, and 
 allude to the taste of God ; and his invention of delicate 
 forms, of melodious tones, and of graceful images is so rich 
 that we almost profane it if we speak of it as his artistic 
 genius, and allude to the genius of God ; for all the words 
 which arc fit to indicate the worthiness of man are only mean 
 and contemptible, if not sacrilegious, when used to express 
 the prolific energy of that Spirit from which all angelic and 
 
THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 365 
 
 manly grace or grandeur has radiated. I have heard of men 
 ashamed of being thought to be in communion with their 
 Maker ; but " as for me," may every true disciple exclaim, 
 " I am not ashamed " ; as for me, I shall be satisfied with a 
 near view of the Monarch, who has a sense of honor causing 
 him to be the God of the widow and the fatherless ; who has 
 a nobleness of aifection inclining him to delight in forgiving 
 the basest crime ; who has such a regard for moral rectitude 
 that he has devised all the hues of the botanic world, and all 
 the forms of the mineral world, and all the colossal propor- 
 tions of the mountains, and the stars, for the purpose of let- 
 ting the eye see emblems of all the virtues, and letting the 
 soul adorn itself with symbols of the beauty of holiness. 
 
 The last remark leads us to say, in the third place, that 
 righteous men will be satisfied with the holiness of God. 
 He glorifies his intellect and sensibility with perfect benevo- 
 lence. Human language trembles when it admits such words 
 as " the intellectual powers " of Jehovah, his " aesthetic 
 sensibilities " ; but it stands firm when it recognizes his holy 
 character. We admire his power, not so much because it 
 is power as because it is wielded in behalf of virtue. We 
 revere him as eternal, but not so much on account of his 
 unceasing duration as on account of his unceasing love for 
 what is right. As a mere intellectual object we prize more 
 than aught besides the goodness of Jehovah. As a mere 
 object of taste we find our noblest gratification in his perfect 
 rectitude ; for there is no picture nor statue, no tesselated 
 pavement nor fluted pillar, no oratorio nor poem, which has 
 an equal power with moral rectitude to gratify the love of 
 beauty. For moral rectitude is benevolence ; not the mere 
 sentimental benevolence which may delight in happiness more 
 than in holiness, but the rational, comprehensive benevolence 
 which is a preference for the richest good of the sentient 
 universe. Moral rectitude is moral beauty ; and as natural 
 beauty comprehends all qualities fitted to please the taste, 
 
366 THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 
 
 SO moral beauty comprehends all qualities fitted to please the 
 conscience. It comprehends the majesty of justice as well 
 as the fineness of compassion. " God is light," and " God 
 is love " ; and as light includes a variety of simple colors, 
 so the moral principle, as distinct from the natural emotion, 
 of love includes a variety of simple graces. One and the 
 same essence pervades them all. Our Father in heaven 
 loves our race, loves all races, loves all that is lovely, and 
 hates ail that is hateful. His love of moral beauty involves 
 his hatred of moral deformity, and his hatred of moral 
 deformity involves his choice to treat it according to its 
 demerits ; and his choice to treat it according to its demerits 
 is an exercise of his justice ; and the essential virtue that is 
 breathed forth in his justice is the same adorable virtue that 
 is breathed forth in his grace. In his darkest providences 
 he is light, and in his severest he is love. 
 
 If there is a comfort in sympathizing with men of enlarged 
 mind or exquisite sensibility, there must be an inestimable 
 joy in associating with the holy men who have been purified 
 from all their foul stains, whose wills have been spiritualized 
 into perfect harmony with the will of God. Their perfect 
 holiness has exalted them above the highest idea which we 
 in our present state can form of them. " I have heard 
 divines say, those virtues that were but sparks upon earth 
 become great and glorious flames in heaven." Perfect holi- 
 ness is needed for the most healthful play of the intellect and 
 for the highest improvement of the taste. The fine arts 
 have never found a theme so congenial as the forms expres- 
 sive of and hallowed by religion. Architects have reared 
 their temples to him who dwelleth in the hearts of the lowly. 
 But the very souls of these architects themselves, if ennobled 
 by divine grace, are nothing more than an edifice in which 
 God resides. Painters have celebrated the trophies of his 
 grace. But all their cunning work, and even their minds 
 themselves, if purified from sin, are but the framework for 
 the likeness of him in whom all grace dwells. Minstrels 
 
THE SATISFACTION OP THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 367 
 
 have chanted his most worthy deeds ; but all their pure 
 songs, and even their immortal natures, are only an echo of 
 his voice all wliosc attril)utes are in themselves one sym- 
 phony. Before his throne, day and night, are angels and 
 seraphs rehearsing with glad voices his wondrous plan. 
 But they are all like the casket in the midst of which his 
 character shines as the pearl of infinite price. There are 
 Cowper and Watts, Wilberf orce and Hall and Leighton ; the 
 great orators of the church, Bernard and Chrysostom ; the 
 deep philosophers of the church, Edwards and Augustine; 
 and myriads of loftier intelligences, seraphs and archangels 
 — all prostrating themselves before their Sovereign, not 
 mainly l:)ecause his intellectual powers are infinite, not mainly 
 because he has an immeasurable delight in all that is beau- 
 tiful, but mainly for this one reason, " The Lord our God 
 is holy." If I can mingle in the society of these beatified 
 spirits, no words can ever give utterance to my joy ; even 
 although all of them are creatures, and unable to meet the 
 full demands of even a human soul. But my joy shall be 
 full — "as for me, I shall be satisfied" if I can dwell in 
 intimate communion with him who chargeth even the angels 
 with comparative folly, and before whose eyes the heavens 
 are comparatively unclean. For " Thou wilt show me the 
 path of life ; in thy presence is fulness of joy ; at thy right 
 hand there are pleasures for evermore." ^ For thou wilt 
 make me most " blessed forever " ; thou wilt make me " ex- 
 ceeding glad with thy countenance." 
 
 The common idea of the Christian as he repeats the words 
 of the text is, that he will be satisfied with the character, 
 the form, of God. But there is another idea intimated in 
 this. He hopes to be satisfied in having a form like that 
 which he adores ; in possessing, so far as a creature is able 
 to possess, the likeness of the Creator. It is supposed by 
 
 1 Ps. xvi. 11. These words tend to explain the meaning of the term "satis- 
 fied." See Hnpfeld's Commentary on the Psalms, Vol. i. pp. 355-357. 
 
868 THE SATISFACTION OF THE EIGHTEOUS MAN. 
 
 some that the main sentiment of the verse is this : " I shall 
 be filled full of joj when I shall awake out of sleep, and find 
 myself ennobled and enriched with the divine character." 
 The version of our text in the Book of Common Prayer is : 
 " But as for me, I will behold thy presence in righteousness ; 
 and when I awake up after thy likeness, I shall be satisfied 
 with it." Some men regard it as well-nigh irreverent to 
 compare, otherwise than to contrast, the human mind with 
 the divine ; but there are miniature portraits, invisible to 
 the naked eye, yet bearing a complete resemblance to men 
 whose features have an inexpressible dignity. A circle of a 
 half-inch diameter is in the exact likeness of a circle com- 
 prehending the stars of heaven. So far as a man beholds 
 the divine face in righteousness, he bears the divine image. 
 In this image man was created ; it will be completely 
 restored when he awakes in the light and bliss of heaven. 
 We are enlivened by the hope of being in the likeness of 
 our friends who when on earth were imperfect models for 
 us to copy, and are now with the " spirits of just men made 
 perfect." But we are exhilarated by the words of the apostle : 
 " Beloved, now are we children of God, and it is not yet made 
 manifest what we shall be. We know that if [when] he shall 
 be manifested, we shall be like him, for we shall see him 
 even as he is." ^ To be in the likeness of God the Son, who 
 took our nature in order that we may take his character, 
 may share his honor as his virtue, may be co-heirs with him 
 where he is, promising even yet, ' To him that overcometh 
 will I grant to sit with me on my throne, even as I also 
 overcame, and am set down with my Father on his throne ' ; 
 to bear the spiritual image of him " who shall fashion anew 
 the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the 
 body of his glory " ; ^ to be in the likeness of God the Father, 
 who is ever planning for the welfare of his children, shower- 
 ing down gifts upon his enemies, parting with his only 
 begotten Son in order to provide a home for those who hated 
 
 ilJohniii. 2. 2 p^ii. iii. 21. 
 
THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 369 
 
 him ; to be in the hkeness of God the Holy Ghost, who is 
 ever moving among ungrateful men, and seeking admission 
 into their hearts ; ever dissuading his children from sin as 
 their bane, and alluring them to virtue as their only true 
 honor — these are the prospects held open to the righteous , 
 man, always inspiriting him to duty and sustaining him in 
 sorrow ; " for I reckon that the sufferings of this present 
 time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which 
 shall be revealed to us-ward;" "for our light affliction, 
 which is for the moment, worketh for us more and more 
 exceedingly an eternal weight of glory," ^ 
 
 I shall be satisfied when I awake in thy likeness ; for I 
 shall awake suddenly. A sleeper opens his eyes, and in an 
 instant the light of day flashes upon him. He passes out 
 of dreams into the clear intelligence. So in the twinkling 
 of an eye, when the stupor of life shall close, the saint will 
 awake in the bright shining of the sun. There shall be no 
 long purgatorial delay. There shall be no protracted journey 
 through the grave. Tliere shall be no lengthened twilight, 
 during whose long-drawn hours the saint will perceive 
 nothing, enjoy nothing. There is but one line to pass over 
 — one step, the step of a child, will take the saint over that 
 narrow line ; no dreary suspense, no dull abode of fears, 
 between his departure from this life and his complete fru- 
 ition of the next. So soon as he rouses himself from this 
 dreamy life, so soon as he opens his vision upon the radiant 
 throne of God, he shall be satisfied with the image after 
 which his whole being has been suddenly moulded. 
 
 And as the commencement of this joy is sudden, so is the 
 date of it unceiiain. Dr. Chalmers lay down at night dis- 
 contented with the world and with himself ; the griefs of 
 a distracted church lay heavy on his mind ; but ere the 
 morning sun illumined his chamber he saw the spiritual 
 
 ^ Rom. viii. 18 ; 2 Cor. iv. 17. See Note B, at the end of the sermon, p. 376. 
 
370 THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 
 
 light shining above the brightness of the material sun ; and 
 while enveloped in the radiance of heaven, his mind, once 
 great, and now greater than ever, felt the force of the words : 
 'I do behold thy face in righteousness ; I am satisfied.' Ever 
 and anon we read of a good man stepping on the steamboat 
 for a brief tour, or entering the rail-car for a day's excursion, 
 and within a few hours the steamboat sinks to the bottom of 
 the waters, and the rail-car is shattered into fragments ; ^ 
 and ere those heavy-laden disciples had time to reflect on 
 the rapidity of their transition they had made their journey 
 to the land whither their faith and hope had been long 
 tending. "We shed our tears for their misfortune ; but they 
 shed no tears for what we call their misfortune. We clothe 
 ourselves with weeds for their mutilated bodies ; — their mu- 
 tilated bodies ? They care not for their mutilated bodies ; 
 they are in the likeness of God. In one moment after they 
 beheld their danger they saw the face of tineir Redeemer as 
 righteous men, and each exclaimed : ' As for me, I am satis- 
 fied.' We remember the last look of our pious friends whom 
 we laid in their graves ; we mourn over their altered visage ; 
 — their altered visage ? They care not for their altered 
 visage ; they are beholding him who is the image of the 
 Father, and are transformed into the same image from glory 
 to glory. 
 
 We often speak in piteous tones of the disciple who mourns 
 over his life seeming to him a failure, and counts the hours 
 which must intervene before he reaches his threescore years 
 and ten. Why is the chariot of heaven so long in coming ? 
 is his impatient cry. But the chariot, unseen by him, has 
 approached near to him. In the air around him it is hover- 
 ing with its convoy of angels, and ere he will have time to 
 .detect its rapid movements it will have borne him aloft to 
 
 i Kefercncc was here made to the Rev. William J. Armstrong, D.D., Secretary 
 of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, who died in the 
 -wreck of a steamboat in 1846 ; and to the Rev. H. G. 0. Dwight, D.D., a mis- 
 «ionary of the Board, who died in the wreck of a rail-car in 1862; — two eminent 
 clergymen greatly beloved where this sermon was preached. 
 
THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 371 
 
 the scene wLere the wicked cease from troubling and the 
 weary are at rest. We speak of heaven as a distant and a 
 stationary structure, and we are hngcring shiggishly for our 
 prolonged conveyance into its far-off precincts ; but why 
 do we forget the elastic nature of heaven, that it even now 
 may have stretched itself out within reach of our arms? 
 "Why do we forget that heaven moves about among men, and 
 at this moment may be sailing like a swift ship around us, 
 and hngering but a few inches from us, careering to and fro, 
 that in a few seconds it may receive us as partners of its 
 rich company ? We speak of our future bliss in Paradise ; 
 but why do we not remember that it may not be so far in 
 the future as the trouble which we are predicting for the 
 morrow ? The anticipated evil may be so remote that it 
 never will overtake us; for before it can arrive on the 
 morrow, our joys, which we throw into the distant track of 
 coming duration, will have become present, ever to remain 
 present, and incapable of knowing a change. ' I shall be 
 satisfied,' — so may the renewed man begin his sentence, as 
 if he had full leisure to finish it on earth, one undivided 
 sentence ; but his very liext words may be those of glad 
 surprise, as he ends in heaven the sentence which he began 
 on earth, — ' as for me, I do behold thy face in righteous- 
 ness ; I am satisfied ; for I am now awake in thy likeness, 
 to sleep no more forever.' 
 
 " As for me, I will behold thy face," — who is this ? ivho 
 will be admitted into such near and close companionship with 
 God, — not communing with him by symbols, not interpret- 
 ing his will by inferences, not standing in awe behind the 
 veil which conceals him ? Who will as a righteous man be 
 welcomed into the company of angels, for they always behold 
 the face of God ; the company of all the elect spirits, for on 
 them he causeth his face to shine ? Who wdll come so near 
 that he will look directly into the visage of Jehovah beaming 
 with a love so refulgent and bright, that as has been said, 
 
372 THE SATISFACTION OP THE RIGHTEOTTS MAN. 
 
 ' his eyes are as a flame of fire,' a flame of fire lighting up 
 the deepest recesses of the heart ? The face of the Lord is 
 against them that do evil, and multitudes will exclaim, " Hide 
 us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne." No man 
 standing on his own worth shall behold the face of the Lord 
 and live. ' But as for me,' says every one who stands on 
 the basis of atoning love, 'I shall behold his face without 
 one tremor. With all my sins fresh in my memory, I now 
 look into the grave and draw not back ; I look into eternity 
 and waver not ; for I shall stand before God as calmly as if 
 I had never disobeyed him ; in my measure I shall be like 
 him, and while in his image I shall be satisfied witli him, 
 and I can ask no more.' 
 
 I who have been ever grasping all within my reach, and 
 persisting importunate for something beyond ; griping every 
 imagined good on every side of me, and yet clamorous for a 
 larger gain, shall I ever be satisfied ? Content with spiritual 
 good ? Shall I who am littleness personified, be in the im- 
 age of the Omnipresent one ? Shall I, the end of all whose 
 studies has been to learn how ignorant and stupid I am, be 
 in the likeness of his omniscience ? Shall I, who am so con- 
 tracted, so mean, so selfish, be in the form of that love which 
 is all generous ; of that grace which is the model of true 
 nobleness ? Is that image, lost in Eden, to be found again ; 
 is that broken statue to be remoulded, its finer features 
 reclaimed, and all its light relumed ? 
 
 Then there is a regenerating Spirit, Then the love that 
 sanctifies the heart must be no human love but almighty. 
 Then Miere is a new creating power alluring to the good from 
 which the erring man would otherwise wander, and dissuad- 
 ing from the baseness into which the soul of the l^est of men 
 loves to sink, and from which unaided he never means to 
 rise. Tlien we must feel our dependence on him who gives 
 eyes to the blind and life to the dead. Then we must bow 
 in thankfulness before him who brought the divinity down to 
 
THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 3i3 
 
 earth in order that he might raise humanity to the skies ; 
 who was in the form of God and took the form of man in 
 order that we might awake in the very image of him with 
 whom we shall be satisfied. 
 
 If we are to be in this image, then we must cheerfully 
 submit to all the influences needed for our transformation. 
 Here and now the heart is of a cold and hard marble. Many 
 a blow must be struck upon this marble heart. Many an 
 excrescence must be cut out of this stony heart. Many a 
 sharp line must be drawn upon this rocky heart. By severe 
 friction is it to become the polished statue, like its living 
 archetype. By a thousand pains and throes is it to become 
 the recipient of a life which shall warm the very marble into 
 a spiritual beauty. By a thousand nameless agonies, is this 
 heart and soul of stone to be made flesh. Let the chisel and 
 the file not be resentfully thrown aside. Let the Great 
 Sculptor be trusted in all his operations of mysterious 
 though cutting skill. ' Let me endure,' may every afflicted 
 disciple say, ' all the contusions needful for my discipline. 
 Let me bear losses of property, of fame, of friends, of health, 
 and of all earthly peace ; let me leave the joys of this world 
 to those who look for nothing higher and nothing better, — 
 but as for me, when I am fully adorned with thy righteous- 
 ness, I shall behold thine approving face, and when I awake 
 to this clear view of thyself, and find my own soul trans- 
 formed into thy likeness, I shall be satisfied.' 
 
374 THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 
 
 ]^OTES. 
 
 Note A, to Page 360. 
 
 Many passages relating to the Redeemer are interpreted by evan- 
 gelical critics as referring proximately to the ideal man, of whom 
 there is a partial realization in the good men on earth, but a more 
 complete realization in Christ and in him only. On a similar prin- 
 ciple prophecies relating to the blessedness of the righteous may 
 be interpreted as referring proximately to the ideal blessedness, of 
 which there is a partial realization in the good men on earth, but a 
 more complete realization in the future life, and in that life only. 
 Some of the six or seven varying interpretations given to Ps. xvii. 
 15 might be in some measure reconciled with each other, if they 
 should be interpreted as referring, one to a lower, and another to a 
 higher, degree of this blessedness ideally described in the text, — the 
 lower degree not excluding, perhaps even symbolizing, the higher. 
 If the text be regarded as part of an evening song, as a prediction 
 of rising to new duties in the morning, it may represent one degree of 
 holy joy in God, and this may be typical of a still loftier degree. 
 If the text be interpreted as pointing to a state of mental darkness 
 and distress under the symbol of the night, and to a state of mental 
 illumination and transport under the symbol of the morning, it may 
 represent an amount of blessedness more elevated than that which 
 is occasioned by a new day, and typical perhaps of a blessedness 
 more elevated still. If the text be interpreted as describing the 
 state of the soul in the present life shadowed so deeply by sin, and 
 the state of the soul as soon as it enters the future life illumined by 
 the divine glory, it may represent such a degree of joy in God as is 
 expressed by the term satisfaction with Him. If the text be inter- 
 preted as predicting the resurrection of the body, it has a yet fuller 
 import than if it be interpreted in any other way. It includes what 
 the other interpretations include and more also. The other inter- 
 pretations are in harmony with each other ; this interpretation rises 
 into a striking and delightful harmony with the fact of Christ's 
 resurrection, and the glories that follow it. 
 
THE SATISFACTION OF THE RICxHTEOUS MAN. 375 
 
 Some thiuk that the Psalmist cannot refer to the soul's awaking 
 out of the present life into the state which immediately follows the 
 death of the body, for they suppose that in the Psalmist's view this 
 is a state of partial or total unconsciousness, — not a state into which 
 men can be said to " awake." They cite Ps. vi. 5 ; xxx. 9 ; Ixxxviii. 
 10 [11, 12] cxv. 17 ; xxxix. 13. (See De "Wette's Commentary on 
 the Psalms, pp. 177, 178, Heidelberg, 4th ed.). We cannot accept this 
 account of the Psalmist's eschatology. Many suppose that through- 
 out the Old Testament the soul is represented as being in a state of 
 slumber immediately after death, and it is inapposite to speak of 
 " awaking " into this condition of sleep. To this we reply that our 
 Christian literature often pictures the state of the dead as a state 
 of '' dreamless repose," and still it often pictures good men as awak- 
 ing to a state of new activity when they die. Figures of speech are 
 not to be treated like figures in arithmetic. Many passages in the 
 Old Testament are like the Syrian mountains, appearing sombre at 
 night, but resplendent when the sun rises upon them. The New 
 Testament illumines the Old, and brings to light the beauties and 
 glories which were previously in comparative darkness. We are 
 unable to determine how definite were the Psalmist's anticipations 
 of the lower blessedness awaiting him as soon as his soul should 
 leave the body, and of the higher blessedness awaiting him as soon 
 as his soul should be united with a more glorious body ; but there 
 are reasons for supposing that in our text he expressed his general 
 anticipation of the ideal blessedness which will be realized in the 
 present less fully than in the future life, and in the state before the 
 resurrection less fully than in the state after it. We must remem- 
 ber that various truths shining in the New Testament are said to be 
 shadowed forth in the Old ; see Col. ii. 17 ; Heb. viii. 5 ; x. 1. Com- 
 mentators err if they insist on finding the shadow as distinct and 
 solid as the substance. 
 
 It is interesting to notice that even De Wette interprets our text 
 as foretelling the resurrection after the sleep of death, and he refers 
 for comparison to 2 Kings iv. 31 sq. ; Jer. li. 39 ; Job xiv. 12 sq.; 
 Isa. xxvi. 19; especially Dan. xii. 2. Many rationalistic commen- 
 tators agree with him. and hence conclude that the seventeenth 
 Psalm was written not by David, but by some one who lived after 
 the Exile. The confidence with M'hich they defend their conclusion 
 betrays their confidence in their premise. The majority of Calvin- 
 
376 THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 
 
 istic commentators, unlike Calvin himself, interpret the text as 
 definitely teaching the doctrine that the body will be raised from the 
 grave. The following extract from a sermon by Rev. C. H. Spurgeon 
 harmonizes with their general interpretation. 
 
 " The saints in heaven have not yet awaked in God's likeness. 
 The bodies of the righteous still sleep, but they are to be satisfied 
 on the resurrection morn, when they awake. When a Roman con- 
 queror had been at war, and won great victories, he would return to 
 Rome with his soldiers, enter privately into his house, and enjoy 
 himself till the next day, when he would go out of the city to re- 
 enter it publicly in triumph. Now the saints, as it were, enter 
 privately into heaven without their bodies ; but on the last day, 
 when their bodies wake up, they will enter in their triumphal 
 chariots. Methiuks I see that grand procession, when Jesus Christ, 
 first of all, with many crowns on his head, with his bright, glorious, 
 immortal body, shall lead the way. Behind him come the saints, 
 each of them clapping [his] hands, or pouring sweet melody from 
 [his] golden [harp] ; all entering in triumph. And when they 
 come to heaven's gates, and the doors are opened wide to let the 
 King of glory in, how will the angels crowd at the windows and on 
 the house-tops, like the inhabitants in the Roman triumphs, to watch 
 the pompous procession, and scatter heaven's roses and lilies upon 
 them, crying, ' Hallelujah ! hallelujah ! hallelujah ! the Lord God 
 omnipotent reigneth.' ' I shall be satisfied ' in that glorious day 
 when all the angels of God shall come to see the triumphs of Jesus, 
 and when his people shall be victorious with him" (Treasury of 
 David, Vol. i. p. 263). 
 
 Note B, to Page 369. 
 
 In this discourse prominence is given to the spiritual blessedness of 
 heaven, and especially to that indicated in the words of the Psalmist : 
 " Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is none upon earth 
 that I desire besides thee." This prominence is entirely consistent 
 with the fact that the body, when raised from the grave and glori- 
 fied, will be the inlet of other joys than those of the mere spirit. 
 The idea of the reward given to the righteous may be illustrated by 
 the idea of the punishment inflicted on the wicked. Throughout 
 the present volume prominence is given to the moral, as distinct 
 from the positive, sufferings of the incorrigible. This prominence 
 
THE SATISFACTION OF THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 377 
 
 is entirely consistent with the fact that, when the body of the im- 
 penitent man is raised from the grave, it will be the inlet of other 
 pains than those of the mere spirit. Some writers describing 
 heaven d(;em it wise to make its material beauties most conspicuous. 
 They suppose that it will not be attractive to impenitent men unless 
 it be portrayed as a scene of pleasing sights and sounds. Other 
 writers fear that these portraitures of heaven will encourage a super- 
 ficial piety, or will lead men to mistake their natural love of the 
 beautiful for the holy love of the true and good. Some of these 
 writers regard the external glories of heaven as mere symbols to its 
 internal blessedness. Now we admit that they are symbols while 
 we cannot admit that they are mere symbols. They do form a lan- 
 guage which can be translated into a description of the happiness 
 resulting from the holiness of the upper world ; but the language is 
 itself a beauty. The walls and gates, the river and the trees, of 
 heaven are signs of its moral excellence and of the resulting joy ; 
 but they make the impression that heaven will abound with such 
 external signs as add new joys to its internal blessedness, — that the 
 signs themselves are grand and glorious realities. The spiritual joys 
 of the saints are symbolized by outward beauties which have in 
 themselves a real worth, a substantial value. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Active, obedience of Christ a part of the 
 gospel, 97. 
 virtues fostered by the gospel, 98. 
 Acts the most powerful words, 71, 79, 
 
 84. 
 Adam, consequences of the fall of, 211 
 sqq. See Table of Contents, Ser- 
 mon IX., The System of Moral In- 
 fluences in which Men are placed ; 
 quotations on, from Andover Sem- 
 inary Creed, Westminster Cate- 
 chism, and Bishop Butler, 215 n. 
 numerous analogies between Christ 
 and, 230 sqq. 
 Adams, John, 7 n. 2. 
 
 on the prayer at the opening of Con- 
 gress, 19 n. 
 to his son, on conscience, 31 n. 
 Adams, Samuel, moving that prayer be 
 
 offered in Congress, 19 n. 
 Addison's opinion of Tillotson, 41. 
 Afflictions, Christ's character influ- 
 enced by, 316 sqq. 
 constitutional peculiarities modify- 
 ing the effect of, 328 sqq. 
 God's benevolence in, 165. 
 Alembert quoted on religious zeal, 7 
 
 n. 1. 
 Analogies, between Adam and Christ, 
 230 sqq. 
 between the cross and nature, 92. 
 Ancestors, Christ's interest in his, 306 
 
 sqq. 
 Andover Seminary and Whitefield, 44. 
 Animals, and men, mutual influences 
 of, 212 sqq. 
 illustrating mental or moral qualities, 
 214 n. 
 Antediluvians, God's love for, 161. 
 Anticipation, of death, Christ's sorrows 
 in, 328-355. See Table of Con- 
 tents, Sermon XIIT. 
 of rewards and punishments excited 
 by conscience, 265, 266, 277, 294. 
 Antiquity, divinely implanted rever- 
 ence for, 18. 
 reverence for, resulting in a rever- 
 ence for God's eternity, 142 sq. 
 Aphorisms, Harrington's Political, quo- 
 ted, 18. 
 Whichcote's quoted, 182 n. 
 
 Approval of conscience. See Com- 
 placency. 
 Artists rising from poverty, 250. 
 Arts connected with Christ, 51. 
 
 influencing Christ's development, 
 299 sqq. 
 
 originating in God's love of beauty, 
 363, 364. 
 
 progress in the, 363. 
 
 stimulated by religion, 366. 
 Association of ideas, 206, 222 sqq. 
 Atonement, 4.5-68, 97-116. See Table 
 of Contents, Sermons II. and IV. 
 
 adapted to the constitution of the 
 soul, 92 sq. 
 
 appreciated by children, 61. 
 
 central truth of the gospel, 48, 49, 
 55, 62, 112, 176, 233. 
 
 comprehensiveness of, 50 sqq., 99, 
 100, 236, 237. 
 
 connected with the evil of sin, 57, 
 222, 258. 
 
 designed from eternity, 146, 334. 
 
 equivalent to the punishment ex- 
 pressed by the law, 85, 86, 345 sqq. 
 
 explained by other truths, 56 sqq. 
 
 explanatory of other truths, 55 sqq. 
 
 expressive of the divine feelings, 84 
 sqq. 
 
 happiness resulting from, 206. 
 
 harmonizes with other parts of di- 
 vine administration, 84 sqq. 
 
 Jionors the law and justice of God, 
 85 sqq., 289, 346 sqq. 
 
 interests the imagination and judg- 
 ment, 59 sq. 
 
 is the language of God in his acts, 84. 
 
 leads to the acceptance of all reli- 
 gious truth, 105. 
 
 necessity of, an inference from con- 
 science, 283. 
 
 only means of appeasing remorse, 
 264 n. 2, 265 n. 2, 275, 289, 346, 
 347 n. 1. 
 
 philosophers and poets interested in, 
 59-61. 
 
 popular definitions of, 54. 
 
 power of, 07-116. See Table of Con- 
 tents, Sermon IV". The Power of 
 the Gospel. 
 
 power of, increasing with time, 95, 96. 
 
 prefigured by sacrifices, 313, 346. 
 379 
 
380 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Atonement, prominence of, 45-68. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon II. 
 
 substitution of Christ's pains for 
 men's punishment, 85 sqq., 345 
 sqq. 
 
 synibolizcci in the Lord's supper, 124, 
 233. 
 
 unitinj^ destiny of Christians with 
 Christ, 129 sqq. 
 
 universe created for, 192 sqq. 
 
 what it includes, 88, 193,318, 334, 
 344 sqq. 
 Attributes of God, are God himself, 
 137. 
 
 exhibited in Christ, 50, 145 sqq. 
 
 grace the most jxlorious of, 55, 56. 
 
 harmony of all the, 140 sqq. 
 
 love comprehending all the moral, 
 155-180. See Table of Contents, 
 Sermon VII. 
 
 manifestation of, appropriate, 76, 81, 
 190. 
 
 manifestation of, inseparable from 
 exercise of, 75, 189, 196. 
 
 manifested in his works, 69-96. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon III. 
 
 pleasure which God has in exercise 
 of, 79, 80, 182-185. 
 
 universe created for the manifestation 
 of, 189 sqq. 
 
 See Benevolence, Eternity, Grace, 
 Holiness, Immutability, Justice, 
 Omnipotence, Omnipresence, Om- 
 niscience, Self-existence, Veracity, 
 Wisdom. 
 Augustine quoted, 122, 125. 
 Authority, of conscience, 276 sqq. 
 
 of kings, Baxter on, 27 n. 1. 
 "Awaking," death an, 360. 
 
 in Psalra 17 : 15, different interpre- 
 tations of, 374 sq. 
 
 B. 
 
 Barrow's influence on Lord Chatham's 
 
 style, 41. 
 Baxter, labors of, 13. 
 
 quotations from, 27 n. 1, 358, 359. 
 Beauty, arts originating in God's love 
 fo'r, 3G3, 364. 
 natural and moral, 363-365. 
 Belief influenced by conscience, 279 
 
 sqq. 
 Believers. See Christians. 
 Benevolence, 155-180. See Love, and 
 Table of Contents, Sermon VII. 
 clergy promoters of Christian, 36 
 
 sqq. 
 divine attribute, 56, 156, 185 sqq. 
 essence of virtue, 365. 
 
 Benevolence, eternity of the divine, 14^ 
 174. 
 general, 179. 
 Bible, exciting interest in the scenery 
 of Palestine, 306, 307. 
 influencing Christ's development, 
 
 30.5-308. 
 value of Christ's opinions on, 299 n. 
 Blessedness. See Happiness. 
 Bodies of Christians, in the image of 
 Christ's body, 52. 
 united with Christ, 134. 
 Brainerd, David, and Princeton Col- 
 lege, 44. 
 Brougham's Discours-e of Natural The- 
 ology quoted, 245. 
 Burke and Wilt^rforce, 43. 
 Butler, Bishop, influence of, 10. 
 
 quotations from, 215 n., 292, 294. 
 Buxton, Sir Fowell, quoted, 8, 9. 
 
 Calvin quoted, 133. 
 
 Central character of the atonement, 
 
 49-62, 112 sqq., 176, 233. 
 Character, Christ's, as human, how in- 
 fluenced, 297-327. See Table of 
 Contents, Sermon XII. 
 
 Christ's, variety in presentation of, 
 59 sqq. 
 
 Christ's words to be interpreted by 
 his, .352, 353. 
 
 Christ's work and, 49-62. 
 
 comprehensiveness of Christ's, 98, 99, 
 328. 
 
 interaction of conscience and, 285sqq. 
 
 of believers derived from Christ, and 
 specifically the same with his, 117- 
 119. 
 
 of God, expression of, appropriate, 
 76, 81, 190. 
 
 of God, importance of knowing, 155. 
 
 of God, language incompetent to ex- 
 press, 168, 184, 190, 191, 361 sqq. 
 
 of God, manifested in his works, 69— 
 96. See Table of Contents, Ser- 
 mon III. 
 
 of God, satisfying the righteous man, 
 356-377. See Table of Contents, 
 Sermon XIV. 
 
 of God, tlie righteous to be partakers 
 of, 367 sqq. 
 
 shown in view of death, 328. 
 Charity the product of Christianity, 
 
 257 sqq. 
 Chesterfield, Lord, quoted, 357, 358, 
 
 359 n.2. 
 Childhood of Christ, 297-327. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon XII. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 381 
 
 Children, appreciating the atonement, 
 
 61. 
 mutual influence of parents and, 
 
 218 sqq 
 Chillini,^worth, recommended to law- 
 students, 40, 41. 
 Warren, ]\Iansficld, Tillotson, Locke, 
 
 and Clarendon on, 40, 41. 
 Choice inseparable from moral agent, 
 
 262. 
 < hrist, 45-68, 97-136, 297-355. See 
 
 Table of Contents, Sermons If., 
 
 IV,, v., XIL, XIII. 
 analogies between Adam and, 230 
 
 sqq. 
 apijcalinp: to our gratitude, 101. 
 Bible, value of his opinions on, 299 n. 
 claims made for himself by, 329, 
 
 3.30. ^ 
 
 comprehensiveness of character and 
 
 work of, 49-62, 98 sqq., 112. 
 conscience affording no relief to, in 
 
 death, 290, 291, 329. 
 deatli of, the great event in his earthly 
 
 existence, 175, 176, 194, 195, 216, 
 
 233, 318, 3.34, 351, 354. 
 deity of, affecting his feelinss in view 
 
 of death, 336 sqq., 344, 345, 
 deity of, proved by his eternity, 145. 
 foreknowledge possessed bv, 126 sqq., 
 
 314,315. 
 future blessedness derived from, 52, 
 
 127 sqq., i05, 
 glory of, a reward for suffering, 175, 
 
 194, 195, 318, .3.34, 351-355. | 
 
 history of, contrasts presented by, , 
 
 106 sqq,, 328 sqq. (Sermon XIII.) ' 
 history of, power of, 97-116. See i 
 
 Table of Contents, Sermon IV. 
 humanity of, 109, 297, 322. i 
 
 incarnation of, the purpose in, 351, ' 
 influences acting upon, 297-327. See ' 
 
 Table of Contents, Sermon XII. | 
 love for, a constraining motive, 64, 
 
 101, 105. 
 Messiahship of, proofs of, 235, 245, 
 
 255. 
 omnipresent, 122. 
 patriotism commended by, 36. 
 sensitive nature of, 339. 
 Bin abhorred by, 345, 
 sinlessness of, 329, 330. 
 sorrow of, in anticipation of death, 
 
 328-355. See Table of Contents, 
 
 Sermon XIII. 
 symmetry in nature of, 98, 328, 
 sympathy of, 324, 339, 341 sqq, 
 the head of the church, 133, 
 the ideal man, 95, 374, 
 
 [ Christ, the intercessor, 86, 124, 
 the model, 127, 128, 319 sqq. 
 the truth, 106, 122, 123. 
 ' union of Christians with, 117-136. 
 I Sec Table of Contents, Sermon V. 
 
 [ unity in work of, 53 sqq. 
 universe made for, 192, 203, 
 variety in presenting character and 
 
 work of, 50 sqq. 
 words of, how to be interpreted, 352 
 
 sqq. 
 See Atonement. 
 Christians, comforted by thoughts on 
 God's eternity, 147-150. 
 divine character giving satisfaction 
 
 to, 361 sqq. 
 divine image possessed by, 118, 119, 
 
 367-371.'" 
 nature harmonious with feelings of, 
 
 89. 
 temple of God, 120, 121. 
 united with Christ, 117-136. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon V. 
 Church, strength, dignity, and blessed- 
 ness of the, 132-13.5", 
 truth has more power when heard in 
 the, 244 sqq. 
 Claims made for himself by Christ, 
 
 329, 330 
 Clarendon, Lord, quoted on Chilling- 
 worth, 40, 41. 
 Clergy, 1-44, 234-259. See Table of 
 Contents, Sermons I., The Indebt- 
 edness of the State to the Clergy; 
 X,, The Gospel preached to the 
 Poor, 
 benefactors of the poor, by proclaim- 
 ing doctrines, 247 sqq., 257 sqq, 
 dignity of work of, 95, 96, 
 duty of 46 sqq. 
 encouragements and inspirations of, 
 
 135, 136, 208, 209, 274, 
 genius among, 12, 13, 
 holding an ofhce divinely instituted,4. 
 interpreters of nature and revelation, 
 
 94 sq, 
 orators among, 237 sqq. 
 rising from poverty, 250, 251, 
 State indebted to", 1-44, 228. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon I. 
 Coleridge quoted, 295, 296, 
 Colleges. See Education. 
 Complacency of conscience, 73, 81, 263, 
 
 264. 
 Comprehensiveness, of Christ's charac- 
 ter and work, 49-62, 98 sqq., 112, 
 of God's government and nature, 
 
 162 sqq., 180. See Sermon VIL 
 of the atonement, 49-62, 98 sqq., 236. 
 
382 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Conditrnitv and con<jruity. See Merit. 
 Conscience, 260-296. See Table of 
 Contents, Sermon XI. 
 actinp: exceptionally in Christ at 
 
 death, 290, 291, 329. 
 appeased onl^' bv the atonement, 264 
 n. 2, 265 n. 2," 275, 289, 346, 347 
 n. 1. j 
 
 civil laws conflictinc: with, 25. i 
 
 demands of, 176, 264, 277, 280. ! 
 
 expresses God's feelinji-s, 73, 81, 82. 
 quotations on, 31 n., 33, 33 n. 
 unforgiving, 151, 168. 
 Constitution, of a man affecting his 
 leelings in affliction, 328 sq. 
 of the soul, atonement adapted to, 
 92 sq. 
 Contrasts presented in Christ's history, 
 
 106 sqq., 328 sqq. 
 Corinth, Paul at, 63. 
 Corruption of language by men, 190, 
 
 191. 
 Courage and cowardice, affected by cir- 
 cumstances, 328 sqq. 
 caused by conscience, 287 sqq. 
 Cowper influenced by Newton, 43, 
 
 246. 
 Creation. See Table of Contents, Ser- 
 mons III., The Revelation of God 
 in his Works ; VIII., The Design 
 of God in his Work of Creation. 
 Cross, analogies between nature and, 
 92, 93. 
 sufferings of Christ on, G38 sqq. 
 See Atonement. 
 
 D. 
 Death, of Christ, 328-355. See Table 
 of Contents, Sermon XIII., The 
 Sorrow of the Redeemer in Antici- 
 pation of his Death. See Atone- 
 ment. 
 Psalmist's views of, 374, 375. 
 symbolizing eternal death, 342. 
 uncertainty as to time of, 369, 370. 
 Decrees formed from eternity, 146, 148, 1 
 
 149, 186. 
 Deity of Christ, affecting his feelings | 
 in view of death, 336 sqq., 344. | 
 proved by his eternity, 145. ; 
 
 Demerit perceived by conscience, 263 ' 
 sqq. I 
 
 Dependence of God upon his creatures ! 
 is dependence upon himself, 198 1 
 sqq. 
 Desert. See Demerit, Merit, Punish- 
 ment, Tveward. I 
 Desertion of Christ bv the Father, 114, i 
 115, 349, 3.5(1, 352-355. I 
 
 De Wette on the Psalmist's eschatologj, 
 375. 
 
 Discipline required to change character, 
 
 373. 
 Displacency of conscience, 81 sqq., 263, 
 
 264, 284. 
 Distributive justice, 176 sqq. 
 Doctrines, Christ connected with all, 
 50-52, 112. 
 the poor benefited by the preaching 
 
 of, 257-259. 
 unity of, 112, 113, 258. 
 Dryden's indebtedness to Tillotson, 41. 
 Duties, all have reference to Christ, 
 48, 51, 52. 
 perceived by conscience, 262 sqq. 
 power of conscience suggested by 
 idea of, 276. 
 
 E. 
 
 Ecclesiastes, author of, on unsatisfac- 
 toriness of the world, 359. 
 
 Education, influence ofthe clergy upon, 
 6-14, 40-44. 
 of Christ, 297-327. See Table of 
 Contents, Sermon XII., Influences 
 affecting the Character of Christ 
 considered as a Man. 
 
 Edwards, Jonathan, quoted, 89-91, 
 135, 200. 
 
 Eloquence, argument for theism from 
 extemporaneous, 245. 
 pulpit, 237-246. 
 
 Eternity, of God, 137-154. See Table 
 of Contents, Sermon VI. 
 of the love of Christ for his disciples, 
 
 126, 129. 
 thought of, expanding the mind, 
 142-144. 
 
 Evidence for the gospel, external and 
 internal, 235. 
 
 Expiatory character of Christ's suffer- 
 ings, 345 sqq. See Atonement. 
 
 Faith, includes love, 164, 258. 
 
 in God's government increased by 
 
 knowledge of his love, 171. 
 in God's sovereignty, resulting from 
 consideration of the moral system, 
 217, 218. 
 in success of God's plans, 175, 208. 
 of Paul in Christ, 65 sqq. 
 Fall of man, the results of, 210-233. 
 See Table of Contents, Sermon 
 IX., The System of Moral Influ- 
 ences in wliirii Men are placed. 
 Favor, truth communicated to men in 
 the form of, 104, 105. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 383 
 
 Fear, Christ's temptations to, 315. 
 inspired in the ungodly by God's 
 eternity, 150 sqq. 
 Figures of speech, applied to God, 168, 
 214. 
 not to be rigidly interpreted, 375. 
 regarding the divine justice resemble 
 the figures regarding the human 
 conscience, 168, 271, 272. 
 Fitness, of God's expressing his char- 
 acter, 76, 81. 
 of signs employed by God to reveal 
 himself, 71 sqq. 
 Fleming quoted, 292. 
 Fordyce quoted, 278. 
 Foreknowledge, 126, 129, 147 sqq., 201 
 n. 2,314. 
 Christ's, in reference to his suffer- 
 ings, 315. 
 Forgiveness mysterious, 113, 114, 284. 
 Forsaking of Christ by the Father, 114, 
 
 115, 349, 350, 352-355. 
 Franklin, Dr., 19 n. 
 
 G. 
 
 General justice, 176-180. 
 Genius among the clergy, 12, 13. 
 Glory, of Christ a reward for his hu- 
 miliation, 175, 176, 194, 195, 334. 
 
 351, 352, 355. 
 of God and its manifestation, 195- 
 
 201, 265 n. 1. 
 God, 69-96, 137-209. See Table of 
 
 Contents, Sermons III., VI.-VIII. 
 adoration of, prompted by knowledge 
 
 of undiscovered things, 202, 203. 
 appeals to conscience, 276 sq. 
 art has its source in, 363, 364. 
 comprehensiveness of nature and 
 
 government of, 165-167, 179, 180. 
 dwells with the humble, 253. 
 existence of, argued from extempora- 
 neous eloquence, 245. 
 existence of, indicated by conscience, 
 
 279-281. 
 faith in, caused by observation of 
 
 moral system, 217, 218. 
 figures of speech applied to, 168, 
 
 214. 
 greatness of, 253. 
 image of, in godly men, 118, 367- 
 
 372. 
 incomprehensible, 144, 145. 
 intellccr of, satisfying the righteous, 
 
 361,362. 
 knowkd-rc has its source in, 196, 197, 
 
 362, 363. 
 language inadequate to describe, 168, 
 
 184, 190, 191, 361, 363, 365. 
 
 God, laws of nature and mind expres- 
 sive of character of, 69-74. 
 
 reverence for, increased by his eter- 
 nity, 142. 
 
 satisfaction of the righteous man in 
 the character of. 360 sqq. See Ta- 
 ble of Contents, Sermon XIV. 
 
 sensibilities of, satisfying the right- 
 eons, 363-365. 
 
 sin hated by, 82, 158, 168, 344. 
 
 speech contrived by, 74, 246. 
 
 temple of, in good men, 121. 
 
 See Attributes, Character, Govern- 
 ment, Happiness, Trinity. 
 Gospel, 97, 236, 237. 
 
 elevating influence of, 16, 37. 
 
 power of, 97-116. See Table of 
 Contents, Sermon IV. 
 
 preached to the poor, 234-259. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon X. 
 Government (civil), advantages of a 
 republican form of, 34, 35. 
 
 aims to satisfy instinctive impulses 
 of the people, 3, 4. 
 
 divine origin of, 17, 18. 
 
 indebted to the clergy, 1-44. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon I. 
 
 theories of, 17, 18. 
 Government (divine), comprehensive- 
 ness of, 165 sqq., 180, 218. 
 
 confidence in, increased by knowl- 
 edge of God's love, 171. 
 
 fatherly, 165. 
 
 harmony of atonement with, 84. 
 
 objections raised against, 171 sqq. 
 
 reasonableness of, 8-1 sqq. 
 
 unity of, 163. 
 Grace the most glorious form of love, 
 
 56, 158. 
 Grandeur, of God's eternity, 144, 147. 
 
 of the heavens, 69 sqq. 
 Gratitude appealed to by the atone- 
 ment, 101. 
 
 H. 
 Hale, Dr., quoted, 199 n. 
 Hall, Robert, 102. 
 
 had an influence on literature, 41. 
 labored among the poor, 34. 
 quoted, 187 n., 257. 
 Hallock, Moses, influence of, on educa- 
 tion, 43. 
 Hamilton, Sir William, referred to, 296. 
 Hapi)iness, a lower good than holiness, 
 187, 188. 
 as affected by conscience, 289, 290. 
 connected with Christ, 52, 127 sqq., 
 
 205, 252. 
 connected with God's glory, 183, 195. 
 
384 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Happiness, connected with happiness 
 of others, 199. 
 
 connected with holiness, 185, 189. 
 
 in heaven, 73, 205 sqq., 360 sqq., 376, 
 377. 
 
 kinds of, 159. 
 
 not attained in worldly pursuits, 356 
 sqq. 
 
 of Christians, as related to God's 
 eternity, 147 sqq. 
 
 of creatures, God's regard for, 158, 
 185. 
 
 of God, as related to his eternity, 
 141, 142. 
 
 of God before and after the creation, 
 201 n. 2. 
 
 of God in contemplating his plans, 
 148. 
 
 of God. intensity of, 182. . 
 
 of God promoted by creation, 182. 
 
 of God promoted by exercising his 
 attributes, 79, 80, 183 sqq. 
 
 of God promoted by happiness of 
 creatures, 185 sqq., 198 sqq. 
 
 of God promoted still more by holi- 
 ness of creatures, 187 sqq., 200, 201. 
 
 of nations promoted by the clergy, 
 3 sqq. 
 
 of nations related to their security, 3. 
 
 of universe promoted by God's hap- 
 piness, 183, 185 sqq. 
 
 of universe promoted by God's reve- 
 lation of himself, 76, 77. 
 
 resulting from the atonement, 206. 
 
 resulting from the moral system, 229. 
 Harmony, of conscience and the Bible, 
 270n. 1. 
 
 of divine attributes, 140 sqq. 
 
 of nature with the Christian's feel- 
 ings, 89 sqq. 
 
 of the atonement with the divine 
 government in general, 84. 
 Harrington's Political Aphorisms quo- 
 ted, 18. 
 Hatred of sin, alternate form of love of 
 holiness, 158, 177. 
 
 felt by God, 168. 
 
 felt by man, 177. 
 Heathen, conscience of, 260, 261. 
 Heaven, analogies between Eden and, 
 231. 
 
 a school of learning, 204, 205, 361, 
 362. 
 
 close at hand, 371. 
 
 conditions of reaching, 164. 
 
 death of friends attracting men to, 
 331. 
 
 happiness in, 73, 205 sqq., 360 sqq., 
 376, 377. 
 
 Heaven, motives attracting Christ to, 
 331, 332. 
 
 music in, 363 n. 
 Heavens, beauty of Oriental, 69, 70. 
 
 Buxton on eloquence of, 8. 
 
 revealing God. See Table of Con- 
 tents, Sermon IH., The Revelation 
 of God in his Works. 
 Hill, Dr. Thomas, quoted, 363 n. 
 History, and prophecy in regard to 
 Christ contrasted, 110, 111. 
 
 compared to the century plant, 92. 
 
 neglects the clergy and schoolmaster, 
 5, 6. 
 
 of Christ. See Gospel. 
 
 proving God's benevolence, 160 sqq. 
 Holiness, a greater good than happi- 
 ness, 187, 188. 
 
 appreciated by contrast with sin, 
 222. 
 
 comprehended in love. See Table 
 of Contents, Sermon VH. 
 
 connected with God's glory, 195 sqq. 
 
 connected with happiness, 185, 189. 
 
 has no merit of condignity in any 
 mere man, 160, 292, 293. 
 
 incentives to, 173, 226. 
 
 influencing the intellect, 298, 316, 
 322 sqq., 366. 
 
 of Christians has its source in Christ, 
 119, 125. 
 
 of creatures, promoting God's happi- 
 ness, 187 sqq., 200, 201. 
 
 of creatures, universe created for, 187, 
 188. 
 
 of God eternal, 141 sqq. 
 
 of God satisfying the righteous, 365- 
 367. 
 
 promoted by considering God's attri- 
 butes, 189 sqq. 
 
 virtually adopted when sympathized 
 with, 124. 
 
 See Conscience. 
 Humanity of Christ, 109,297,322. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon XH., 
 Influences affecting the Character 
 of Christ considered as a Man. 
 Humboldt quoted, 260. 
 Hume quoted, 4, 21 n. 2. 
 Humilitv, 150. 253. 
 
 of Christ, 314. 
 Hupfeld referred to, 367 n. 
 
 I. 
 
 Ideal man realized in Christ, 95, 374. 
 Ideas, association of, a principle used 
 
 in the divine government, 222-226. 
 Image of God in godly men, 118, 367 
 
 sqq., 371, 372. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 885 
 
 Iinaf^ination interested in the atone- 
 ment, 59, 60. 
 Immortality, as possessed by God only, 
 
 140. 
 ' Old Testament ideas of, 374, 375. 
 suiiirested by conscience, 281-283. 
 Immutability, of conscience, 151. 
 
 of God, 141, 290. 
 Impenitent, God's love showing the 
 
 puiltof, 168. 
 Incarnation, purpose of, 194, 195, 351. 
 Incom])rehensibleness of God, 137, 144. 
 Independence of the Creator as to his 
 
 creatures, 199-201. 
 Infidel, objections to God's government, 
 171, 172. 
 repujrnance to human immortality, 
 282, 283. 
 Influences, affecting the character of 
 Christ considered as a man, 297- 
 327. See Table of Contents, Ser- 
 mon XII. 
 exerted by the clergy, 1-44. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon I., The 
 Indebtedness of the State to the 
 Clergy, 
 exerted by the poor, 247 sqq. 
 of conscience on character and vice 
 versa, 285-290. 
 Innate tendency to trust conscience, 
 
 281. 
 Inspiration indicated in Gen. 3 : 13-19, 
 
 210. 
 Intellect, influence of holiness upon, 
 298, 316, 322 sqq, 366. 
 influence of the clergy upon, 6-14, 
 
 40-44. 
 of God satisfying the righteous, 361, 
 362. 
 Internal evidence for the gospel, 235. 
 
 John the Baptist, his message to Christ, 
 
 235 sqq. 
 Judgment, day of, 275, 295, 
 Judgments of conscience. See Con- 
 science. 
 Jurists influenced by the clergy, 40 
 
 sqq. 
 Justice, of God, 81 sqq. 
 
 of God, his choice to comply with 
 
 conscience, 283. 
 of God, shown in the moral system, 
 
 218 sqq. 
 of God spoken of in the Bible as con- 
 science is spoken of by the poets, 
 168,271, 272. 
 reli:rion promotes the execution of, 
 20. 
 
 Justice, retributive, a distinct and pe- 
 culiar form of benevolence, 159, 
 176-180. 
 See Atonement, Distributive, Gen- 
 eral, Retributive. 
 
 K. 
 
 Kant quoted, 269 n. 
 Kingdom of Christ, Christians par- 
 takers in, 130, 131. 
 Kings, Baxter on authority of, 27 n. 1. 
 
 Plato on conscience of, 278. 
 Know, meaning of, in 1 Cor. 2 : 2, 46. 
 Knowledge, Baxter on unsatisfactori- 
 ness of, 358, 359. 
 connected with religion, 10. 
 has its sovirce in God's wisdom, 10, 
 
 196, 197, 362. 
 progress in, 362. 
 promoted bv holiness, 7, 298, 299, 
 
 316, 322 sqq., 366. 
 resuscitated, 273 sqq. 
 to be acquired in heaven, 204, 205, 
 
 361, 362. 
 See Education. 
 Korah, 221, 222, 
 
 Lamartine at Nazareth, 303. 
 Language, corrupted by men, 190, 191. 
 
 God the author of, 74, 246. 
 
 inadequate to express God's charac- 
 ter, 168, 184, 190, 191, 361 sqq. 
 
 rhythmical, natural in expressing 
 great ideas, 234. 
 
 used to describe God's justice no 
 more severe than poets use of con- 
 science, 168, 271, 272. 
 Law, appreciated in view of the evil of 
 sin, 222, 258. 
 
 civil, sustained and ameliorated by 
 the clergy, 1 6-33. 
 
 connected with Christ, 51. 
 
 conscience giving idea of the moral, 
 263. 
 
 fullilled by love, 157, 158. 
 
 necessitv that God express his regard 
 for, 88. 
 
 obedience to civil, 16 sqq. 
 
 of God honored in the atonement, 
 85, 86, 289, 346 sqq. 
 
 of nature and mind tlie language of 
 God, 70 sqq., 82, 90 sqq., 361-364. 
 
 simplicity of moral, 163, 164. 
 Layman's duties essentially the same 
 
 as the clergyman's, 48, 67, 68. 
 Leighton quoted, 165. 
 Libcrtv, Ilumc on relation of clergy to, 
 21 n. 2. 
 
386 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Licber's Political Ethics quoted, 14 n. 
 Life, brevity of, 153, 154. 
 
 compared to a sleep, 359, 360. 
 
 solemnity of, in view of political 
 duties, 31, 32. 
 Literature indebted to the clergy, 6-10, 
 
 40-44. 
 Locke, Chillingworth recommended by, 
 40. 
 
 referred to, 296. 
 Lord's supper symbolical of the atone- 
 ment, 124, 233. 
 Love, between Christ and Christians, 
 124-127. 
 
 Christ's, a constraining influence, 64, 
 101, 105. 
 
 comprehends all God's moral attri- 
 butes, 1 55-1 80. See Table of Con- 
 tents, Sermon VII. 
 
 connected with faith, 164, 171 sqq., 
 258. 
 
 divine, 56, 88, 149, 150, 365, 366. 
 
 divine, biblical portrayals of, 207. 
 
 divine, central fact, 56, 172. 
 
 divine, explaining doctrine of pun- 
 ishment, 159, 165 sqq., 177 sqq., 
 348. 
 
 divine, expressions of, 75-81. 
 
 God's pleasure in, 185. 
 
 hatred of sin, alternate form of, 158 
 sqq., 177, 178, 366. 
 
 promotes unity, 125, 132. 
 
 See Benevolence. 
 
 M. 
 
 Macaulay quoted, 25 n. 
 Man, Christ the ideal, 95, 374. 
 
 conscience characteristic of, 260, 261, 
 
 268. 
 God's eternity contrasted with life 
 
 of, 153, 154. 
 influences upon, 210-233. See Ta- 
 ble of Contents, Sermon IX., The 
 System of Moral Influences in 
 which Men are placed, 
 relifrious sentiment in, 3, 4, 32. 
 Martineau, Dr. James, im])ortant quo- 
 tation from, 2G3 n. 2, 293. 
 Massillon, eloquence of, 242. 
 Memory, Coleridge quoted on, 295,296. 
 
 tenacity of, 269-276, 285, 295, 296. 
 Mercy, 158, 229 sqq., 283 n. 2. See 
 
 Grace. 
 Merit, of condignity and congruity, 
 160, 292, 293. 
 of condignity possessed by Christ, 
 
 179. 
 perceived and approved by con- 
 science, 263 sqq. 
 
 Messiahship, proofs of Christ's, 235 
 
 sqq., 245, 255 sqq. 
 Mind, activity of, 2G9-272, 296. 
 
 expanded by thought of God's eter- 
 nity, 142-144. 
 expresses God's character, 70 sqq., 82, 
 
 197, 361-364. 
 faculties of, interested in the atone- 
 ment, 59 sqq. 
 greatness conferred upon, by con- 
 science, 2G6 sqq. 
 See Intellect, Sensibilities. 
 Ministry. See Clergy. 
 Miracles of Christ, 234, 235, 256. 
 Missionaries, influence of, 16, 37, 105, 
 228. 
 rising from poverty, 250, 251. 
 Model, Christ the perfect, 127 sqq., 319 
 
 -321. 
 Monotony an element in punishment, 
 
 83, 150 sqq. 
 Moral, and natural beauty, 363-365. 
 and positive retributions, 376, 377. 
 
 See Punishment, 
 faculty. See Conscience, 
 judgments, number of, 269-272. 
 restraint exercised by the clergy, 37, 
 
 38. 
 See Attributes, Influences, Law. 
 Music in heaven, 363 n. 
 Mystery, adaptation of mind for, 113- 
 116. 
 of Christ's history, 113-116. 
 of Christ's sorrow in view of death, 
 328-355. See Table of Contents, 
 Sermon XIII. 
 of sin, not in punishment, but in for- 
 giveness, 113, 114, 284. 
 
 N. 
 Nature, 69-96, 181-209. See Table of 
 Contents, Sermons III., The Reve- 
 lation of God in his Works ; and 
 \TII., The Design of God in his 
 Work of Creation. 
 
 analogies between the cross and, 92. 
 
 and Christ, 51. 
 
 conscience gives dignity to human, 
 266 sqq. 
 
 Edwards quoted on, 89 sqq. 
 
 gives added pleasure when regarded 
 as God's work, 189, 190. 
 
 gospel supplements teaching of, 236. 
 
 influence of, on Christ as man, 303- 
 305. 
 
 laws of, the language of God, 70, 71, 
 90 sqq. 
 
 mutual influences of man and, 211 
 sqq. 
 
IKDEX. 
 
 38T 
 
 Nature, objections raised against God's 
 government in, 171-173. 
 See Character, Christ, God. 
 New Testament, and Old, in regard to 
 Christ, 110. 
 exphiininij: the Old, 37.5. 
 Newton, Joini, literature influenced by, 
 
 43, 44, 246. 
 Nineveh, God's treatment of, 162, 229. 
 
 O. 
 
 Obedience, Christ's active and passive, 
 97, 233 
 to a bad law exceptional, 22 sqq. 
 to law, 16 sqq. 
 
 Objections W God's government, 171- 
 173. 
 to universe being created for God's 
 glory, 196 sqq. 
 
 Oblii^ation perceived by conscience, 
 262. 
 
 Obscure forces exerting mighty influ- 
 ences, 1, 13. 
 
 Occupations ofmen influencing Christ's 
 development, 299-302. 
 
 Old South Church, Boston, Mass., 29, 
 69 n., 89, 95, 96. 
 
 Old Testament, and New, in regard to 
 Christ, HO. 
 explained by the New, 375. 
 
 Omnipotenoo, expressed by God's 
 works, 79. 
 God's eternity inferred from his, 
 139, 140. 
 
 Omnipresence, 122, 152. 
 
 Omniscience, 140, 141. See Fore- 
 knowledge. 
 
 Orators. See Eloquence. 
 
 Pain, connection of, with sin, 219. 
 purpose of, 84, 217, 218. 
 See Sufferings. 
 Palestine, illustrating the Bible, 300 
 sqq. 
 life in, as influencing Christ, 299 sqq. 
 See Talile of Contents, Sermon 
 XII., Influences affeetinc: the Char- 
 acter of Christ considered as a 
 Man. 
 Parents and children, mutual influ- 
 ences of, 218 sqq. 
 Parkman, Dr., murder of, 20, 21. 
 Participation of believers, in Clirist's 
 s])irit, 117-136. See Table of 
 Contents, Sermon V., Union with 
 Christ. 
 m God's image, 118, 367 sqq., 371 
 sqq. 
 
 Passive virtues fostered by the gospel, 
 
 98. 
 Patrick, Bishop, quoted, 288. 
 Patriotism, 13 sqq. 
 
 Berkeley quoted on, 15 n. 2. 
 fostered by the clergy, 33 sqq. 
 taught by Christ and Paul, 36. 
 Paul, at Corinth, 63. 
 character of preaching by, 45-68. 
 See Table of Contents, Sermon 
 II., The Prominence of the Atone- 
 ment, 
 patriotism taught by, 36. 
 Perfection of Christ's character, 319- 
 
 325. 
 Perfections of God. See Attributes. 
 Perseverance of saints, 126, 127. 
 Philosophers and poets interested in 
 Christ's character and work, 59-61. 
 Philosophy in poetry, 271. 
 Pitt, William, 244 n. 
 Plan, power of a, 63 sqq. 
 Plato quoted, 278. 
 Plotinus quoted, 295, 296. 
 Poets, and philosophers interested in 
 Christ's character and work, 59- 
 61. 
 ascribe to conscience the severity as- 
 cribed by the Bible to God's jus- 
 tice, 168, 271, 272. 
 inspired in their explanation of na- 
 ture's laws, 72, 73. 
 rising from poverty, 249. 
 true philosophers, 271. 
 Political virtues promoted by the clergy, 
 
 14 sqq. 
 Poor, 247-259. See Table of Con- 
 tents, Sermon X., The Gospel 
 preached to the Poor, 
 labors ofthe clergy among, 12, 13,34. 
 Positive and moral retributions, 376, 
 
 377. See Punishment. 
 Prayer, 96, 124. 
 
 in the first Congress and in the 1787 
 Ccmvention, 19 n. 
 Preaching, effect of, increased by seeing 
 the preacher, 7 n. 2, 237 sqq. 
 effect of, increased by the circum- 
 stances of delivery, 7, 8, 241 sqq. 
 institution of, a proof of Christ's 
 
 Messiahship, 234, 235, 245, 246. 
 more powerful than writings, 237 
 
 sqq. 
 See Clergy. 
 Pride, Christ's temptations to, 314. 
 Princeton College and David I3rainerd, 
 
 44. 
 Promises of God sustaining men in 
 sufifering, 334, 335. 
 
888 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Prophecy, and history, in regard to 
 Christ contrasted, 110. 
 
 Christ's fulfilment of, 235, 256. 
 
 of Christ's death, 333. 
 
 of Christ's exaltation, 314. 
 Propitiatory nature of Christ's suffer- 
 ings, 345 sqq. 
 Proportion in which the gospel ad- 
 dresses different sensibilities, 100- 
 102. 
 Providence of God sustaining men in 
 
 suffering, 334, 335. 
 Publicity of suffering as affecting cour- 
 age, 332, 333. 
 Punishment, atonement equivalent to 
 the threatened, 85, 86, 289, 345 
 sqq. . 
 
 connected with God's eternity, 150 
 sqq. 
 
 death a symbol of future, 342. 
 
 demanded by conscience, 151, 176 
 sqq., 263 sqq., 277 sqq., 292. 
 
 doctrine of, founded in human con- 
 stitution, 82 sqq. 
 
 eternal, 83 sqq., 104, 150 sqq., 169 
 sqq. 
 
 explained by benevolence, 20, 159 
 sqq., 165 sqq., 177 sqq., 348. 
 
 magnifying Christ's gi-ace, 104. 
 
 monotony an element in, 83, 150 sqq. 
 
 moral and positive, 376, 377. 
 
 reasonableness of, 81 sqq., 112-114, 
 284. 
 
 reasons for inflicting, 84, 177 sqq. 
 
 remorse an element in, 73. 170, 284. 
 ; sentence of, from Christ, 52, 108, 343, 
 347. 
 
 E. 
 
 Reasonableness of God's administra- 
 tion, 81 sqq. * 
 
 Reid, Dr. Thomas, referred to, 292, 294. 1 
 
 Religion, ardor inspired l)y, 7 n. 1, 
 benefiting a land, 16, 37, 228. 
 See Holiness. 
 
 Religious sentiment, 3, 4, 32. 
 
 Republic, advantages of, 34 sqq. 
 
 Responsibility of individuals as related 
 to civil law, 30-32. 
 
 ResuiTcction, 135. 
 Old Testament views on, 374, 375. 
 
 Retributive justice, 176 sqq , 283 n. 2. 
 
 Revelation of God in his works, 69-96. 
 See Tal)le of Contents, Sermon 
 III. ; and Sermon VTII., The De- 
 sign of God in his Work of Cre- 
 ation. 
 
 Reverence for God increased by his 
 eternity, 1 42, 143. 
 
 Revolution, right of, 29, 30. 
 Keward, anticipated by conscience, 81, 
 263 sqq., 277. 
 of Christ, 175, 194, 195, 318, 334, 
 
 351, 352-355. 
 related to God's eternity, 147 sqq. 
 See Heaven, Merit. 
 Eight, 261 sqq. See Table of Con- 
 tents, Sermon XI., Conscience. 
 Righteous man's satisfaction with the 
 character of God, 356-377. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon XIV. 
 
 S. 
 Sacrifices and the atonement, 175, 233, 
 
 312 sqq., 333, 345 sqq. 
 Sadi quoted, 278. 
 Salaries of ministers, 37 n. 1. 
 Satisfaction, 356-377. See Table of 
 Contents, Sermon XIV., The 
 Eighteous Man's Satisfaction with 
 the Character of God. 
 Schiller quoted, 124, 132. 
 Schleiermacher, 34. 
 School, heaven a, 204, 205, 361, 362. 
 
 the church a, 7. 
 Sciences, and the clergy, 10. 
 have their source in God's wisdom, 
 10, 196, 197, 362. 
 Scientists rising from poverty, 249. 
 Sears, Pres., quoted, 12 n. 
 Self-existence, divine, 139, 141, 145. 
 Selfishness, 132. 
 Self-revelation a law of sentient beings, 
 
 79, 80. 
 Sensibilities, affected by Christ's his- 
 tory, 98 sqq. 
 of God satisfying the righteous man, 
 363-365. 
 Sensitiveness of Christ's nature, 339. 
 Sentiment, religious, 3, 4, 32. 
 Sentiments connected with choices, 176, 
 
 283 n. 2. 
 Severity of biblical description of God's 
 justice resembling poetical descrip- 
 tions of conscience, 168, 271, 272. 
 Shakespeare quoted, 284 n. 
 Sin, affecting the intellect, 298, 299, 
 322 sqq. 
 atonement appreciated in view of evil 
 
 of, 57, 104, 222, 258. 
 cause of God's desertion of men, 349. 
 Christ's sorrow arising from consid- 
 eration of, 342 sqq. 
 compunction for, eternal, 151. 
 conscience hardened by, 343. 
 dicnity of man indicated by evil of, 
 
 '268. 
 divine abhorrence of, 82, 168, 343 sqq. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 389 
 
 Sin, evil of, illustrated by God's love, 
 1G8 sqq., 236, 258. 
 evil of, illustrated by moral system, 
 
 222 S(i(i. 
 folly of, 141. 
 
 hatred of, alternate form of benevo- 
 lence, 158 sqq , 177, 178, 366. 
 mvstery in forgiveness of, 113, 114, 
 
 284. 
 nature of, 163, 180, 271. 
 pain connected with, 84, 219. 
 Sinlessness of Christ, 329, 330. 
 Slandering our rulers, 22 n. 
 Sleep, death represented as a, 375. 
 Sodom. God's treatment of, 161. 
 Solemnity of life in view of political 
 
 duties, 31, 32. 
 Sorrow of the Redeemer in anticipation 
 of his death, 328-355. See Table 
 of Contents, Sermon XIII. 
 Soul, atonement adapted to constitu- 
 tion of, 92 sqq. 
 dignity of, 77, 268. 
 South quoted, 33 n. 1., 37 n. 1., 38 n., 
 
 325. 
 Sovereigntv, divine, connected with the 
 gospel, 50, 104. 
 faith in, stimulated by observation of 
 the moral system, 217 sqq. 
 Spirit, of believers and Christ the same, 
 117 sqq. 
 of God influencing Christ's develop- 
 ment, 318,319, 323, 324. 
 of God influencing men, 261, 372 
 sqq. 
 State. 1-44. See Table of Contents, 
 Sermon I., The Indebtedness of 
 the State to the Clergy. 
 See Government, Law. 
 Statesmen rising from poverty, 250. 
 Stewart, Dugald, on Robert Hall, 41. 
 
 quoted, 292, 294, 296. 
 Stowe, Prof., quoted, 11 n. 
 Stuart, Moses, quoted, 322. 
 Substitute for the penalty of sinners, 
 Clirist's sufferings a, 85, 86, 289, 
 345 S(iq. 
 Sufferings of Christ, 328-355. 
 
 unrelieved by his conscience, 290, 
 291,329. 
 Superiority of men affecting their con- 
 duct in view of death, 330. 
 Symbols, 71, 92. 124, 214 n , .342. 
 Symmetry, of Christ's nature, 98, 328. 
 
 of moral law, 163, 164. 
 Sympathy, appealed to in preaching, 
 241. 
 of Christ with men, 324, 339, sqq. 
 of Christians, 136. 
 
 Sympathy with holiness, virtual holi- 
 ness, 124. 
 
 Synagogues, Christ's attendance at, 
 309 sqq. 
 
 System of moral influences in which 
 men are placed, 210-233. See 
 Table of Contents, Sermon IX. 
 
 T. 
 
 Taylor Jeremv, quoted, 243. 
 Teacher, Chrfst a reliable, 323, 324. 
 Temperament, a term inapplicable to 
 
 Christ, 98. 
 Temple, Christ in the, 312, 313. 
 Temptations of Christ, 313-316, 
 
 325-327. 
 Tenacity of the moral sense, 269 - 276, 
 
 285, 295, 296. 
 Tendency, of the clerical office, 2. 
 
 to trust in the moral faculty, 281. 
 Testaments, Old and New, in regard 
 to Christ, 110. 
 relations of, 375. 
 Theologians rising from poverty, 250. 
 Tillotson's influence on literature, 41. 
 Trinity, 112, 148. 
 
 self-existence, may necessitate, 145. 
 Truth, Christ the objective, 106, 122, 
 123. 
 communicated as a personal favor, 
 
 104, 105. 
 communicated in sensible images,l 05 
 in the gospel without error, 236. 
 the gospel the centre of, 112. 
 See Veracity. 
 
 Union, of social classes affected by the 
 gospel, 254 sqq. 
 With Christ, 1 17 - 136. See Table 
 of Contents, Sermon V. 
 United States, 34, 35. 
 Unity, of doctrines in the atonement, 
 53 sqq., 112, 113, 258. 
 of God's character and law, 163, 164. 
 promoted by love, 125, 132. 
 Universe. See Creation. 
 
 V. 
 
 Variety of truths involved in Christ's 
 character and work, 50 sqq., 112, 
 113, 258. 
 
 Veracity, a divine attribute, 160. 
 
 Vicarious character of Christ's suffer- 
 ings, 85, 86, 289, 345 sqq. 
 
 Virtues, active and passive fostered by 
 the gospel, 98. 
 political, fostered by the clergy 14 
 sqq. 
 
300 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Vocabulary of a people influenced by 
 
 the clergy, 14. 
 Volitions, in rapid movements of the 
 
 body, 294, 295. 
 number of, in relation to moral acts, 
 
 269-272. 
 Voltaire quoted, 242. 
 
 W. 
 
 Walton, Izaak, quoted, 253. 
 
 influenced by Herbert, 41, 42, 
 Wants, rational, indicate their supply, 
 
 17, 361. 
 Washington quoted, 36 n. 
 Webster, Daniel, quoted, 19 n. 
 Webster, Prof. John W, 20, 21. 
 Welfare, benevolence a prefei-ence for 
 
 sentient beings'. See Benevolence. 
 
 Welfare, of universe promoted by rev- 
 elation of God's attributes, 76sqq., 
 87 sqq., 185 sqq. 
 well-being, well-doing, 159 n. 
 
 West, Dr. Stephen, lawyers influenced 
 by, 42. , 
 
 Whiclicote's Aphorisms quoted, 182 n. 
 
 Wliitcfield, literature influenced by, 44. 
 
 Wilberforce, 43. 
 
 Wood, Dr., influence of, on education, 
 43. 
 
 Words, of Christ, how to be interpreted, 
 352 sqq. 
 power of, 238 sqq. See Language. 
 
 Works of God. iSee Creation. 
 
 Worship of God influencing Christ's 
 development, 308 sqq. 
 
 Writings, power of, 237, 238. 
 
o 
 
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Date Due 1 
 
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