':^m s LIBRARY OF THE Theological Seminary, PRINCETON, N. J. Case, r^ >.<:-.Srr....Q.i.y.[..:."n , Shelf, i .^vijjT. Secti.< . Book, '^'.•.^:.--- BY WH l.:ZAB.S 2la^rc^.Sk.m, iC^^Trm.^ Strc^ ^.da.r LZ2. SERMONS, BY THE LA.TE Rev. JOHN LOGAN, F. R. S. Edinburgh, ONE OF THE MINISTERS OF LEITH : INCLUOIM& A COMPLETE DETAIL OF THE SERVICE OF A €tsmmunitfn £^xtt(ts^^^ ACCORDING TO THE USAGE OF THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND. IN TWO VOLUMES. A NEW EDITION, TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, A MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF THE AUTHOR. VOLUME L EDINBURGH : PRINTED FOR JAMES ROBERTSON AND CO. PARLIAMENT SQUARE, AND MACREDIE, SKELLY AND CO. 34,, PRINCE's STRIlET, EDINBURGH ; L, B. SEELEY, BURTON AND SMITH, AND R. I. HOLDSWORTH, LONDON. 1822. Jf. Ander39n, Printer, M9tmd Place, TO THE PUBLIC The following Volume is the work of a Man of Genius ; but as it is a Post- humous Publication, and was not pre- pared by the Author for the Press, the candid Public will make the proper allowances. Among Mr Logan's Papers were found a variety of Prayers, and of Addresses to Communicants, at the Celebration of the Sacrament of the Lord's Svipper. That these might not be lost to the Public, it was judged proper to give, from his Manuscripts, the whole service of a Communion- Sunday, in complete detail ; in which these Compositions form a part ; and are introduced, each in its place. This VOL. I. IV will, at the same time, serve as a me- morial of the Form, according to which that Solemn Ordinance is ge- nerally administered, in the present times, in Scotland ; and may not be unacceptable to those of the neigh- bouring Church, who have a desire to be acquainted with the modes of our Service and Worship upon that occa- sion. CONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST. Life of the Author * - - - - Page ix SERMON L On the Influence of Religious Institutions* Psalm xxvii. 4 — One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after ; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, aad to inquire in his temple, - - 1 SERMON 11. On the Importance of Devotio7i. Romans xii. 11 — Fervent in spirit ; serving the Lord, 20 SERMON in. On Earlij Piety, EccLES. xil. 1. — Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, ----- 40 SERMON IV. On the Improvement of Time, CoLos. iv. 5 — Redeeming the time, - - 51 VOL. I. a VI qaNtj:MT*^'^ ,.v On Reverence and Hol^i Fear, Page Psalm iv. 4. — Stand in awe, - - - - 74 SERMON Vr. On Death, Job XXX. 23 — For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living, - 92 SERMON VII. On the Christian's Victory over Death, 1 Cor. XV. 55, 57. — O death ! where is thy sting? O grave ! where is thy victory ? Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ, - 104 SERMON VIII. On the Doctrine of a Particular Providence, Psalm xcvii. 1. — The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice, 121 SERMON IX. On a Life of Progressive Virtue, PnovERBS iv. 18. — The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day, 144 SERMON X. On the Virtue of Meekness, Matthew v. 5 — Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit the earth, . • - - - 173 SERMON XL On C/iarift/, Isaiah Iviii, 7 — Deal thy bread to the hungry, — hide not thyself from thine own flesh, - 185 CONTENTS. Vll SERMON XII. On the Danger of Small Transgressions. ^^ ^ Matthew v. 19— Whosoever^ therefore, shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven, 197 SERMON XIII. On Deliverance from Remorse. Hebrews xii. 24.— The blood of sprinkling, which speak- eth better things than that of Abel, - - 213 SERMON XIV. On the Value of the Soul. Mark viii. S6.— For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ? - 226 SERMON. XV. On the Celebration of the Lord's Supper. Psalm xliii. 4.— I will go unto the altar of God, unto God my exceedmg joy, CELEBRATION of the SACRAMENT of the LORD'S SUPPER. Psalm, Prayer, MORNING SERVICE. ACTION SERMON. On the Sufferings of Jesus Christ. 257 259 Luke xxii. 44 And being in an agony, - 267 Prayer, ---*-" VIU CONTENTS. Psalra, -..,-. 289 Fencing of the Tables, - - . . 290 Psalm -.--.- 295 Consecration Prayer, - - - 297 Address to Communicants before and after the Service of the Tables, . - . . . 300 Table First, - . - . . 301 Psalm, -..--. 304? Table Second, - ... - 305 Psalm, --..-. 308 Table Third, 309 Psalm, . . ... 313 Table Fourth, ... - . 314? JPsalm, - e - - - - 319 Concluding Exhortation from the Pulpit, - - S20 Prayer, . .... - 323 Psalm, - • • - 829 Blessing, -.-.-- SSO EVENING SERVICE. Paraphrase, - - - - - 331 Prayer, ... - - 333 EVENING SERMON. On the Resurrection of Jesus Christ* Matthew xxviii. 6, — Come, see the place where the Lord lay, - - - - S41 Prayer, --.-.- 360 Hymn, -■.-.»- S65 Blessing, . » . • . 366 *V^m^^" A SHORT MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF THE AUTHOR. John Logan was born at Soutra, in the parish of Fala, county of Mid-Lothian, about the end of the year 1747. His father, George Logan, rented a small farm at that place -, but afterwards removed to Gossford Mains, in the county of East- Lothian. His mother, Janet Watherstone, was daughter of John Watherstone, a respectable farmer in Lauderdale. Both parents belonged to that class of Scotch dissenters who at that time were commonly denominated Burghers ; and they were distinguished by the most unaffected piety and a conscientious and steady attachment to the religious community with which they were connected. They had two sons, of whom the sub- ject of this memoir was the younger. The care of the farm, at an early period, devolved on the elder brother ; but he soon quitted it, and betook himself to the study of medicine. He afterwards settled as a surgeon in North America, where he died in 1785. X 'illK LIFK OF John gave early indications of those talents which after- wards rendered him so distinguished j and his parents deter- mined to foster his love of learning and to educate him for the clerical profession. He received the earliest part of his education in the school of Musselburgh, at that time taught hj Mr Jeffrey. From Musselburgh he removed to the Univer- sity of Edinburgh in November 1762. The assiduity and success with which he prosecuted the study of the Latin and Greek classes soon procured the approbation of the Professors ; and on occasion of Principal Ilobertson's first visitation of the Greek class, he was one of those whom the Professor examined in his presence — a distmction which evinced the opinion his teacher entertained of his acquirements, alid which, no doubt, had its influence in stimulating hira to continued diligence. It does not appear that the phj^sical sciencies had presented to Logan's mind such attractions as the study of classical litera- ture ; — that he had, however, devoted much of his attention to the science of morals, is obvious from his writings, which exhibit much knowledge of the human mind and the principles of action. In the study of Belles Lettres, he made singular proficiency ; and was particularly noticed and ap- plauded by Dr Blair. He next applied himself to the study of Theology with the same ardour and diligence with ^vhich he had engaged in the preparatory pursuits; and acquired that stock of professional knowledge, which enabled him to make such a distinguished figure as a preacher of the Gospel. During this period, a friendship between Logan and Dr Robertson (late of Dalmeny), commenced, which continued through life with undiminished aflfection ; and it was not con- taminated with any of those little jealousies which have some- times marred and interrupted the intercourse of men of genius. Michael Bruce, too, whose literary career was so soon termin- ated, was then a student at the Universitj^ of Edinburgh ; and ih^ similarity of their genius and pursuits readily produced an THE llEV. JOHN LOGAiV. Xl intimacy between him and our author, which continued till the amiable poet of Lochleven sunk immaturely into the gi-ave. After the death of Bruce, Logan was engaged in preparing for the press the poems he had left ; and in 1 770 he published ** Poems on Several Occasions, by Michael Bruce," to which he added an account of the life and character of the author, and '^ some poems written by different authors .^^ The friends of Logan and of Bruce are divided in their opinions concern- ing the share which the latter had in the miscellany. After Logan had completed that course of theological study which the laws of the church of Scotland prescribe to those who become candidates for her license to preach the gospel, he was employed, through the recommendation of Dr Blair, in assisting the studies of the son of Mr Sinclair of Ulbster, now Sir John Sinclair, Bart, — and in this situation he was treated with becoming kindness. The situation of a domestic tutor is not, however, the most congenial to the feelings of a young man of learning and genius ; for, though he may be somewhat gratified with the civilities that are shown to him on account of his talents or his learning, yet it is impossible to separate from it the mortifying feeling of dependence and inferiority. In this situation Logan did not long remain. Whether from dislike to the situation of tutor, or from a desire to be nearer his friends, it does not appear that he was much above a year in the family of Ulbster. On his return, he was proposed to the Presbytery of Dalkeith as a candidate for license ; and, after undergoing a long and particular examination, in which he gave the most satisfactory proofs of the assiduity with which he had applied to classical and theological learning, he was transferred to the Presbytery of Haddington, by whom, about the end of September 1770, he was licensed to be a preacher of the gospel. Although a certain degree of timi- dity characterised his first appearances in the pulpit, his fame, as an enlightened and impressive preacher, soon spread, and Xll THE LIFE OF he received an invitation from the Incorporations and Kirk Session of South Leith to the second charge of that church and parish ; and he was accordingly ordained in the year 1773. He continued to discharge his duties as a minister with steadiness and fidelity ; and while he prosecuted the studies connected with his profession, and was faithful in pre- paring for the instruction of his congregation, his leisure hours were employed in the cultivation of polite literature, for which he had a naturail and powerful predilection. During the session of College 1779-80, he read a course of lectures on the Philosophy of History, in St Mary's Chapel, Edinburgh ; an undertaking in which he was patronised by Principal Robertson, Dr Blair, and others, eminent for their taste in literature, and their encouragement of genius. He read the same course of lectures during the session 1780-81, with such imiversal approbation, as to be encouraged to offer himself as a candidate for the professorship of Civil History in the University of Edinburgh. In this, however, it is much to be regretted, he was disappointed ; as that chair, b}^ a peculi- arity for which it is difficult to account, had been always tilled by one of the Faculty of Advocates. In the following session he met with a disappointment still more galling. That general approbation with which his lectures had, during the preceding sessions, been received, now began to veer; and that patronage, with which he had hitherto been favoured, seems to have been withdrawn. He therefore determined, with a resoluteness pe- culiar to men of independent spiiit, to try their fate with the public; and accordingl}^, in 1781, published the substance of that part of his prelections which related to ancient history, in one octavo volume, entitled, " Elements of the Philosophy " of History J*"* It would appear this performance received some encouragement ; for in the following year, he published one of his lectures on the manners and government of Asia. In THE REV. JOHN LOGAN. xiil the same year he gave to the public a volume of poems, which were so favourably received, that a second edition was soon called for. Npt only did he distinguish himself in the beaten track of lyric and elegiac poetry, he also cultivated the favour of the tragic muse ; and, in 1783, he produced the tra- gedy of E-unnamede ; which, however, was never acted (ex- cept once in Edinburgh), on account of certain leferences which it was supposed to have to the politics of those times. But although it was never applauded in the theatre, yet it pleases in the closet, though unaccompanied with the magic chanu of voice and gesture. Such disappointments could not fail to make a deep impression on his mind ; and they increased that melancholy to which he was naturally subject — an effect which every friend to genius must lament, as it produced certain ir- regularities in conduct, rather incongruous with the sacredness of the ministerial character. His parishioners, who, it seems, could not distinguish between transient deviations from the path of rectitude, and determined wickedness, were highly enraged ; and persecuted, with relentless fury, the man who had laboured with assiduity for their good, and whose learning and talents had been devoted for their improvement. Logan, foreseeing the storm that was gathering around him, perceived that it would be inexpedient for him to remain any longer among a people who so ill requited his labour ; and, with a moderation which does him honoui', agreed to with- di-aw from his office. After this he went to London, and was engaged in writing for the " English Review ."*' He also wrote a pamphlet which attracted considerable notice, entitled " A Review of thePrin- '^ cipal charges against Mr Hastings*." His health now began to decline ; and lii;; literary career, and multiplied sorrows. * The fallowing curious fact is related by Dr Bisset, in his History of the Reign of George III. *' The late Mr Logan," says he, ♦» well known for his XIV THE LIFE OF were terminated by his death, ou the 25th of December 1788. The death of j\Ir Logan was much lamented by his friends, to whom he was always warmly attached, and by whom he was sincerely beloved ; the fury of his enemies seemed to have sub- sided, and tliey were willing to pay to Jiis memory that res- pect which he looked for in vain while he lived. He was now, however, secure from the attacks of malice and the shafts of envy ; and to him the praise or blame of mortals had become empty sounds. By his will he bequeathed the sum of six hundred pounds Sterling, in small legacies, to his friends ; and appointed Dr Robertson and Dr Grant his executors, to whom he entrusted his manuscripts. Accordingly, in 1790, a volume of his ser- mons was published, under the inspection of his friends, Dr Robertson, Dr Blair and Dr Hard}^ In the following year a second volume was published, in which several of the dis- corrses are not finished, either from the manuscript being In- complete, or not legible. The fourth edition of both volumes was published in 1800. Besides the works of IMr Logan, which we have mentioned in the course of our narrative, he left a varietj^ of other papers, of which his executor, Dr Ro- bertson, gives the following account, In a letter to Dr Ander- son, dated Dalmeny, September 19, 17ii5. «« literary efforts, and author of the most masterly defence of Mr Hastings, ••went that day (the day which the eloquence of Sheridan has rendered so •• memorable) to the House of Common?, prepossessed for the accused, and •• against his accusers. At the expiration of the first hour (of Mr Sheridan*s •• speech), he said to a friend, ' All this is declamation without proof;' when •« the second was finished, • This is a most wonderful oration ;* at the third. »♦ ' Mr Hastings acted most unjustifiably;' at the fourth, ' Mr Hastings is a •♦most atrocious criminal;' and at last, • Of all monsters of iniquity, the •• most atrocious is Warren Hastings.' This I was told by Mr Peter *• vStewart, proprietor of the Oracle, who was present." This fact does not affect the merits of the cnuse; but it is certainly an evidence of the suscepti. bility of Logan's feelings, and a pleasing tribute to the eloquence of th« speaker. THE REV. JOHN LOGAK. - XV *' Those ill verse consist of ^/ec/ra, a tragedy ; the Wed- *' ding-dat/, a tragedy, being a translation into blank verse of " the Deserteur of Mercier ; the Carthagimmi Heroine, a ** tragedy, but of which there is only the first act finished ; *^ and about half-a-dozen of short lyric poems. Those in prose ** consist of about eight numbers of an intended periodical ** paper called The Guardian ; the subject of one of the num- ** bers is a capital essay on the genius and writings of Addison. " Besides these I have also in mj;^ possession Mr Logan's MS. " Lectures on the Roman liistorj^ His Lectures on Horaau '* History begin with Romulus, and comedown to the fall of the *' empire, and the establishment of the feudal system. Li a *' small vclumeofpoemSj published under the title of ^ Poems by *' IMichael Bruce,' the following were composed by Logan : ** Damon, Menalcus, and MeUhceiis; Pastoral Song, to the *^ tune of the Yellow-hair'd Laddie j' Eclogue in the manner *' of Ossian ; Ode to a Fountain ; tw^o Danish Odes ; Chorus *^ of ' Anacreontic to a Wasp ;' the Tale of Levina (278 lines), *^ in the poem of Lochleven ; Ode to Paoli ; Ode to the *' Cuckoo*, ^^ It is indeed matter of regret, that Dr Robertson did not publish a complete edition of the works of Logan, in- cluding the MS. mentioned above, which, we are told by Dr Anderson, he had meditated some time before his death. It would no doubt have been accompanied with a life of the in- genious but unfortunate author, by which we should have been made better acquainted with the dispositions and characterof Logan, whom his friend and companion had better means of knowing than the distant biographer, w^ho must collect his materials from the contradictory reports of tradition, from the censure of enemies, and the applause of friends. Logan has left behind him imperishable monuments of his genius as a historian, a poet, and a preacher. In the remarks •** Dr Anderson's edition of the Biitiah Poets, Vol, XI. p. 1050. a: VI ' THE LIFE OF which uc are now to suggest on his works, we shall coniiuc oursehes to the order in which they were published. His first production was, " Elements of the Philosophy of '' History." This was merely an outline of his lectures, and intended, as the advertisement on the title-page in- forms us, for those gentlemen who heard his Prelec- tions ; although, however, it appears his scheme of lecturing had failed about the time of its publication. If we may be permitted to form an opinion of Mr Logan's lectures from this analysis, we would say that they contained a happy applica- tion of moral and political science to the history of mankind ; that they were distinguished by the philosophical accuracy of his investigations, the clearness of the arrangement of his historical materials, the elegance of his diction, and the beauty of his imagery. For although this small volume contains :.only general hints, and is merely an exhibition of the order in which the different facts were detailed, or subjects investigat- ed ; yet it is obviously the production of a mind accustom- ed to take a comprehensive and philosophical view of human affairs, and, from the observation of particular facts, capable of forming general principles,. His Poems deserve a more minute criticism than the limits of this memoir permit us to bestow. It is impossible to read them without discerning, that he w^as animated with the true fire of genius j that with him poetry was not the frigid pro- duction of art, bvit the genuine offspring of a mind formed for relishing the beauties of nature, and guided by the inspiration of the muses ; that his imagery is not the meretricious trap- pings of the plagiary, but the production of a mind warmed with poetic enthusiasm ; that his numbers are not merely pro- duced by the laws of criticism, but are the natural dictates of his muse ; and, in short, that he was fully qualified for *' wak- <^ ing to ecstacy the living lyre." His hymns at the end of (lie volume are truly devotional, and seem to be the effusion THE Ri:V. JOHN LOGAN. XVH of a mind which felt the power of religious truth. The greater number of them have, very properly, been adopted into the psalmody of our national church. Logan's mind seems to have been peculiarly attuned to devotional and solemn themes ; and his hymns are admirably adapted for exciting those feelings in his readers. Runnamede, the only tragedy which Logan published, is founded on the occurrences which took place at that memor- able spot, when Magna Charta was obtained, in the reign of King John. As this play is but Uttle known, we shall lay before our readers a short sketch of it. The Norman and Saxon barons being assembled, sacrifice their mutual en- mities to the common cause of freedom. They are inform- ed, that the Dauphin of France, whom they had courted to their aid, intended to ruin them. The archbishop of Canterbury proposes to unite more closely the interests of the revolted barons, by the marriage of Arden, a Saxon Lord, to the daughter of Albemarle, a Norman ; but the lady being betrothed to Elvine, a Norman chief, just re- turned from the holy wars, an obstacle to the wished-for union occurs. This, however, is removed, in the father's ap- prehension, by the intelligence that the lover had joined the Dauphin's army ; but the lady remains unshaken in her at- tachment. In the midst of impoitunities to comply with the wishes of her father and the other barons, she writes a letter to Elvine, in the Dauphin's camp ; but having omitted to address it, the Dauphin's ambassador, to whom she entrusted it, su- perscribed it to his master, in order to produce a division be- tween Albemarle and Arden, the latter of whom he supposed would be disgusted at the lady's behaviour. The letter is in- tercepted ; the lady condemned to die for her conduct ; and Elvine, as her champion, saves her from the block, by killing Arden in single combat. The fidelity of Elvine to his country is discovered, snd he is chosen the leader of the rebel host. XVlll THE LIFE OF' The conferences with King John are then exhibited. He con- sents to grant the rebels the exercise of their rights, in con- sideration of their pledging themselves to resist the French in- vader. Elvine, mean time, is thrown into despair, by the discovery, that the letter written by Elvina was addressed to the Dauphin ; and, under the influence of this passion, he plunges into the hostile ranks ; where, however, he discovers, from the treacherous ambassador, the truth with regard to the letter. Elvine returns successful and safe from the fight. The piece closes with joy, and the confirmation of liberty by Magna Charta. It evidently has many blemishes ; and is not certainly of the highest order of dramatic writing: but, although it has a double plot, although the characters are thread-bare, and aU though it be apparently without a catastrophe in which all our better passions are interested, it is unquestionably an admirable performance. There is a majesty and fire in the verse truly delightful ; and the train of the incidents being natural, does not materiall)^ confuse the progress of the fable. It breathes that ardent and elevated glow of passion, which eminently shone in the character of Logan. The picture of public spirit, strug- gling with private attachments, is most exquisitely painted in the character of Albemarle ; while the language of substantial patriotism blazes in every line. As his Sermons were not prepared by himself, and proba- bly not intended for the public, they want those embellishments, and that finished accuracy, which a man of genius, full of the hopes of transmitting his name with honour to posterity, never fails to bestow upon his compositions. This circumstance, however, is not without its advantages. Those sermons which are carefully prepared for publication — in which the author employs all his powers in pruning every exuberance, and re- trenching every superfluity — in scrutinizing every figure, and suppressing every unnecessary epithet — in smoothing every ex- THT. REV. JOIIX LOGAN. XlX pression, and adjusting the cadence of every period ; though they may please the eye and gratify the ear of the fastidious critic, are not to be regarded as specimens of the author's ordi- nary addresses to his congregation, but of his abilities as a writer. The discouraes of Logan, on the contrary, are ex- amples of his ordinary preaching ; for they come into our hands almost in the very same form in which they were delivered to his audience : and if we consider them in this view, we shall have the greatest reason to admire his genius. The subjects are well chosen. Removed, on the one hand, from the puz- zling subtilities of controversial divinity, and, on the other, from the dry discussions of abstract morality, they treat of doctrines which are of the last importance, and of duties which are of eternal obligation. To describe the operation of hu- man passion, and to exhibit interesting views of human life ; to enforce the obligation of virtue, and to shew the influence of religion on moral conduct ; to delineate the devout feelings of the pious heart, and to recommend love to God, and affection to the Redeemer, are the themes on which Logan delights to dwell. His sermons are characterised by a spirit of rational and elevated devotion ; by a vein of splendid imagery ; by a warm and impassioned eloquence ; by a simplicity and ele- gance of diction, which render them unrivalled specimens of pulpit oratory. It appears, however, he did not scruple to borrow occasionally from others. Besides the passages in the 4th and 11th sermons at the first part, which Dr Anderson mentions as borrowed from Dr Seed, there is another in the Sermon on Retirement, taken verbatim from Blair's on that subject. And there is a beautiful passage in the Evening Sermon after the communion, taken from Bishop Sherlock's discourse on the '« Sufferings of Christ." This circumstance, in the case of Logan, argues'bu intellectual imbecility, since his own is always equal, if not superior, to what he borrows ; it only shews, tliat the most ardent genius will at times be in- XX LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN LOGAN. dolent, and that the most fertile imagination has its barren seasons. From the Hicts and observations we have stated, the reader, it is presumed, will have formed an estimate of Logan's cha- racter. Formed by nature with tender and delicate feelings, he has displayed those feelings in the soothing strains of his delightful poetry. Endowed with vigour of intellect, and warmth of imagination, he has given proofs of his varied powers, in the comprehensiveness of his views as a historian, and the splendour of his eloquence as a preacher. His private cha- racter was distinguished by the sincerity of his friendship, and the ardour of his attachment. As a man, he was not free from failings ; but charity will vripe away the stains which truth often obliges the biographer to record. SERMON I. ON THE INFLUENCK OF RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. PsAL. xxvii. 4 Oiie thing have I desired of the Lord^ that rvill I seek after ; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life^ to behold the beauty of the Tuord^ and to inquire in his temple. JLJavid, the author of this psahn, is much celebrated in the Sacred Scriptures. As a man, he was not without faults ; but as a king, he shines with uncommon lustre. He distinguish- ed himself in early youth, as the champion of his native land; in fighting the battles of Israel he became the hero of his age ; and at last he ascended the throne, on which he sat with much splendour during many years. He was VOL. I. A 2 ON THE INFLUENCE OF the founder of the Jewish monarchy. From behig separate tribes, he made the Jews a na- tion. Their judge in peace, as well as their leader in war, he secured by his counsels what he had gained by his arms, and gave to Judea a name and a renown among the kingdoms of the East. To the bravery of a warrior, and the wis- dom of a statesman, he added what in all ages hasbeennolessadmired, — the accomplishments of a poet or bard. '' The sweet Psalmist of Is- ^^ rael" consecrated his harp to the praises of the Lord, and composed to it sacred strains, that have ministered to the improvement and to the devotionof succeeding times, till this day. Notwithstanding all his other engagements, he found time for the exercises of religion : notwithstanding all the pleasures and honours of a throne, he found his chief happiness in the house of the Lord. " One thing have I desired " of the Lord, that will I seek after, that I may ** dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of " my life." Whenever his favourite subject presents itself, he takes fire, and speaks of it, not only with zeal but with transport. ^' How ami- " able are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts ! " My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the ^' courts of the Lord : my heart and my flesh !' cry out for the living God/' HELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 3 It becomes then a subject worthy of our at- tention, to inquire, What there is in the public institutions of religion, to have rendered them an object of so great importance to the king of Israel ? This will appear, if we consider their influence on men with revspect to their religious capacity ; with respect to their moral charac- ter ; with respect to their political state ; and with respect to their domestic life. In the Jirst place, let us consider the in- fluence of religious institutions upon men, with respect to their religious capacity. There are many qualities which we sliare in common with the inferior animals. In the acuteness of the external senses, some of them excel our species. They have a reason of their own ; they make approaches to human intelli- gence, and are led by an instinct of nature to associate with one another. They have also their virtues, and exhibit such examples of affection, of industry, and of courage, as give lessons to mankind. But in all their actions they discover no sense of Deity, and no traces of religion. It was reserved to be the glory of man, that he alone should be admitted into the presence of his Creator, and be rendered capa- ble of knowing and adoring the perfections of A 2 4 ON THE INFLUENCE OF the Almighty. As piety is the distinguishing mark of the human race, a tendency to the ex- ercise thereof is in some degree natural to the mind. AVhen we look up to heaven, and be- hold the sun shming in glory, or the moon and the stars walking in brightness, untaught na- ture prompts us to adore him that made them, to bow down and worship in the temple not made with hands. When we are surrounded by dangers on every side, and overwhelmed with deep affliction, by the law of our nature we tend to some superior Being for safety and relief: or when we are surprised with a sudden flow of unexpected prosperity, spontaneously we lift up our eyes and hands to Heaven^ to pour forth the grateful effusions of the heart to our unseen Benefactor. As there are principles, then, in human nature, which incline men to religion, and principles also which incline them to society, it would not have been extraordinary, if the combined influence of the religious and asso- ciating principles had been so strong as to have prompted men to have assembled in public, for the purposes of devotion, although no law had been given to that end. But it was not left to this. Among all the nations of the world, the public interested itself in the cause ; the RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIOXS. 5 legislative authority interposed its sanction, and kings and lawgivers encouraged the pro- pensity of the people to religion. It required no profound wisdom to foresee the manifold advantages that the public worship of a Deity would introduce among men. Accordingly, temples were everywhere built, sacred cere- monies were instituted, an order of men was appointed to officiate in holy things, and cer- tain days were set apart for the people to join in the celebration of divine worship. Indeed, as to the objects, and the manner of worship, little care was taken. The mao:istrate o;ave his authority to the current belief, though ever so absurd and ridiculous, and established that form of religion which the people were best disposed to receive. It was thought sufficient, if by public and solemn acts of piety, a sense of Deity, and feelings of religion, could be im- pressed, and frequently renewed in the minds of men. But in some nations this practice, so highly beneficial to mankind, was enjoined by an authority superior to that of human gover- nors. God himself, in the system of laws which he delivered to his ancient people, hallowed the seventh day, and appointed other festivals in which the people should assemble together in order to join in the services of the 6 ON THE INFLUENCE OF sanctuary. In vdiat concerns the celebration of the Sabbath, Christianity confirms the Mo- saic law. Our Saviour, whose practice ought to be a rule of life to Christians, attended up- on the public worship in the Jewish syna- gogues ; and the Apostles followed his example, till by their labours in the ministry, they had gathered together in one place, a sufficient number of converts to form a church. Then they constituted regular assemblies of Christ- ians, they ordained proper persons to preside in the public w^orship, and both by their pre- cept and example, recommended a constant at- tendance on these meetings of the faithful. That there must be an established religion in every state, is a principle in w^hich not on- ly Christians, but infidels, have been agreed. In order that the public religion may be pro- ductive of any good effects, it is necessary that it make a deep impression upon the minds of the people. But if it were not for our assem- bling together on the Lord's day for public worship, that form of Christianity which is es- tablished in this country would perhaps take too feeble a hold of the mind to produce its proper effects. The Christian religion is very different from those systems of superstition which prevailed in the Pagan world. The RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 7 heathen religion had attractions for every feel- ing of the human frame. It contained everv thing that could strike the senses, or please the imaginations of men. All the apparatus of false religion, which at once amuses and en- tires the mind, was exhibited: ceremonies^ pompous festivals, costly sacrifices, were con- tinually passing before the eyes of the wor- shipper. In the majesty of the temple and the splendour of the worship, the Deity seemed to be present. Ancient superstition introduced the fine arts into her train, called tlie powers of genius to her aid, and employed the pain- ter and the poet to hold out her charms to the world. Very different was that religion of which Jesus Christ was the author. When the Son of God descended, he appeared not like the idols of the nations. The Christian religion is pure, spiritual, divine. It is the religion of the mind and the heart ; the worship of God, who is a spirit, in spirit and in truth. There is nothing here but the simplicity of truth, and the majesty of reason, to persuade the world. Man, however, is not a pure intelligence, and reason is not the only attribute of his nature. Were it not, therefore, for the mode of com- munication by discourse in public assemblies, 8 ON THE INFLUENCE OF Christianity, in its simplest form, could never be a popular religion. It might employ the leisure of philosophic men; it might operate its effect upon the few who are given to in- quiry ; but it never could engage the genera- lity of mankind. They who have not consider- ed the subject, cannot possibly conceive the astonishing difference that there is between written and spoken language; between the dead letter that appears to the eye, and the livino; voice that comes to the heart. The same discourse that, in a popular assembly, would raise the passions of the audience to the highest pitch; send it abroad in print, and it will often have no effect at all. Add to these, that it is to the meetings of the faithful, that the promise of the divine presence is made. In the gates of Zion, God delights to dwell: and when his disciples are gathered together, Jesus has promised to be in the midst of them. True piety indeed is not confined to the sanc- tuary. High is the pleasure, and great the benefit of private devotion. But sure I am that they who have entered into the spirit, and tasted the pleasures of devotion in secret, will not be thereby prevented from approach- ing to God in the ordinances of public wor- ship. Society heightens 'every feeling, and RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 9 improves every delight. All that charms the eye, or the ear, or the imagination, or the heart, is attended with double pleasure, when we share it in the company of others. In the presence of striking and exemplary piety, the careless worshipper will become devout, and the devout will become fervent. A holy em- ulation will rise in the bosoms of the faithful : the ardour will spread frombreastto breast, and the passions of one inflame the passions of all. May I not appeal to your own experience, and ask, When you have been in the spirit on the Lord's day, when the word of life was spoken from the heart to the heart, have you not felt that there was a divinity in virtue ? — have you not found yourselves as if translated from earth to heaven, and experienced the emotion of mind which the Patriarch felt, when he awoke from his dream, and cried out in rapture, '^ Surely the Lord is in this place ! " This is none other than the house of God, ** and this is the gate of heaven." Secondly^ Let us view the effect of religi- ous institutions upon men, with regard to their moral character. Whatever brings men together, and con- nects them in society, has a tendency to ci- 10 ON THE INFLUENCE OF vilize and improve them. Especially when they assemble together for such important purposes as the worship of a Deity, this will be the effect. There is something in the very idea of drawing nigh to God, that inspires vir- tue. When men accustomed to meet together as busy and as social creatures, assemble at stated times as rational and immortal beings, a sense of propriety will prompt them to act up to that high character. When the sons of God come to present themselves before the Lord, whatever is displeasing to God, and hostile to men, will vanish from their mind. The connection between such exercises of piety, and the practice of virtue, is nearer and more intimate than superficial reasoners are apt to imagine. There are indeed pretences to religion, without any virtue, as there are pretences to virtue without any religion ; but whoever in reality possesses the fear of God, will be thereby determined to keep his com- mandments. It must be obvious, at first view^, that the sense of a Supreme Being, the inspector of human affairs, the patron of vir- tue, the avenger of sin, and the re warder of righteousness, has a powerful tendency to strengthen moral obligation, to annex a new sanction to the laws, and to inspire purity in- to the manners of a people. RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. it By the operation of such a principle, open violence will be restrained, and secret enmity would be checked. Society will assume a happier form, the insolence of the oppressor will be humbled, and the wild passions of the licentious be subdued. What the Scripture calls, " the power of the world to come," is felt strongly through every corner of this world. Heaven improves the earth ; and the life which is to come, is a source of happiness to the life which now is. There are, indeed, I acknowledge, to the honour of the human kind — there are persons in the world who feel that the possession of good dispositions is their best reward ; who would follow goodness for its own sake, and do their duty, because it is their duty, although there were neither re- wards nor punishments to come. But I know as well, that the world is not composed of such persons. Men in general are governed by their passions, their interest, the prevailing bias of their minds; and whenever their pas- sions, their interest, or the bias of their mind stand in one scale,>nd their duty in the other, it is very evident where the balance will incline. To such persons you might declaim for ever, to no purpose, on the beauty of virtue, and the harmony of a well-governed mind: 12 ox THE INFLUENCE OF they hear joii not ; they are deaf to the voice of the moral charmer : Nothing less than " Thus sailh the Lord," will influence their conduct. The unjust judge in the parable re- presents and characterizes the great body of mankind; if they fear not God, neither will they regard men. Thus, if the public institutions of religion were laid aside, private virtue would not long remain behind. Men in general have no prin- ciple of moral conduct but religion, and if that were taken away, they would work all impurity with greediness, whenever they could withdraw from the public eye. Human laws would of- ten be of little avail, without a sense of divine legislation; and the sanctions of men have lit- tle force, unless they were enforced by the au- thority of God. There would then be no secu- rity for the public peace; the mutual confidence betw^een man and man w^ould be destroyed ; the bond which keeps society together w^ould be broken ; oaths w^ould become mere w^ords of course, and an appeal to the Great God of Heaven no more regarded than if he were an image of stone. Human life would be thrown into confusion, the safety of mankind would be endangered, and the moral world totter to its ruin, if sucli a pillar were to fall. And what RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 18 is it that maintains and spreads religious prin- ciples in the world ? What is it that keeps alive on the minds of the people, the fear of God and the belief of his providence ? It is the public institutions of religion ; it is the obser- vance of the Lord's day ; it is our assembling together in this place for the celebration of divine worship. The people, in general, have no religious principles, and no rule of life, but what they learn here ; and if these churches , were once shut up, the hand of the civil magis- trate would soon force them open, in order to reclaim the criminals that would thus be let loose upon the world. In the third place, let us view the effect of re- ligious institutions upon men, with regard to their political state. The political systems that take place in the world, the facility with which the many are governed by the few, is one of the most won- derful things in the history of man. That mankind in all ages, and in all countries, should allow a few of their number to divide this globe among them; to appropriate to themselves the possessions, distinctions, and honours, and leave nothing to the majority but burdens to bear, if we had not beheld it from a 14 ON THE INFLUENCE OF the first, would have appeared one of the most astonishing of all events. Would it be at all surprising, to hear a man, struck with a sense of this state of things, complain thus : '• Is " Nature unequal in the care of her children ? " A mother to some, and a stepmother to others ? Has she appointed me to labour in " the sweat of my brow, and another to riot '^ in the fruit of my labours ? No. The fault '' is not in Nature. She has no favourites. '^ She gives to all her sons an equal right to " inherit the earth. The fault is in them " who tamely bend their necks to the yoke, " who kneel and kiss the rod w^iich the haugh- " ty lord weaves over their heads. It never " surely was the will of heayen, that the " worthy should be scorned by the vile, and " the brave be trampled upon by the cow- *^* ard. Cannot I then find a band of men as " valiant and as determined as myself, to " rectify these caprices of fortune, to vindi- '' cate the rights of Nature, and restore man- " kind to their original inheritance. By doing " violence at first, this usurpation on nature " w^as made ; and by a similar violence, Nature " requires that her reign be restored." What is it that prevents such a spirit, as I have been now describing, from frequently break- RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 15 ing out ? What prevents bloodshed and de- vastation, and all the evils of war ? What pre- vents the world from being turned upside down? — Nothing so much as the influence of religious principles upon the minds of men. Christianity gives honour to civil government, as being the ordinance of God, and enjoins sub- jection to the laws, under its own awful sanc- tions. And not only by particular precepts, but by its secret and less visible influence, it prepares the minds of men for submission to lawful au- thority. When we meet together in this place under the sanction of law, and under the pro- tection of the civil magistrate, we are put in mind of our relation to the state, and of our duty to the higSer powers. Fear^ God and Iig- nour the King^ have more than a local connec- tion in scripture.^ Obedience to spiritual au- thority paves the way for subjection to the ci- vil power. Hence wise legislators have, even on this account, favoured the progress of reli- gion : hence those who have attempted innova- , tions in government, applied, in the first place, to the ministers of religion, and endeavoured to gain the pulpit on their side. Julian, known by the name of the Apostate, the most formi- * Sec 1 ret. ii. ir. l6 ON THE INFLUENCE OF dable enemy the Christians ever had, was so sensible of the influence, and of the effects of preaching to the people, that he appointed a similar institution among the heathens. ^' My son, fear thou the Lord and the king," (said the wisest of mankind,) '' and meddle " not with them that are mven to chano;e." In confirmation, we may observe, that men, characterized as given to change, have, either from infidelity, not attended upon ordinan- ces, or from enthusiasm, been above them? For, who have been innovators and disturbers ? who have been the authors of seditions and rebellions ? who have been the enemies of or- der and civil government, in many an age ? — a mixture of atheists and fanatics ; two classes of men, who, though i^emingly oppo- site, have been found in close bonds of union. In \he fourth and last place, we have to con- sider the influence of religious institutions upon men with respect to domestic life. i It is chiefly on account of their domestic situation, that we can pronounce men happy or miserable. Here the pleasures are enjoyed which sweeten life ; here the pains are felt w^iich embitter our days. No uneasiness a- broad will sit heavy on a man, when the RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 17 pleasing reflection rises in his mind, that he has happiness at home : No enjoyment from without will give real and lasting satisfaction, when he knows that he has a curse in his own house. It is no small advantao-e attendino; the insti- tutions of divine worship, that they minister to the happiness of domestic life. A new bond will be added to the conjugal union, when those whom it connects walk to the House of God in company, take sweet coun- sel with one another, and set out jointly in the way that leads to life. Watered by the dews of heaven, which fall here, the olive plants will flourish round your table. AVhat sacred sensations will fill the bosom of a parent, when, viewing his family sitting at the feet of Jesus, he says, in the fulness of a grateful heart,— " Lord ! behold me, and the children whom " thou hast given me !" There is a beauty, also, when the rich and the poor, when the high and the low, who sel- dom meet together on other occasions, assem- ble here in one place, one great family, in the presence of their common Lord, when they are stripped of every adventitious circumstance, and where virtue makes the only distinction among them. It is the image of those golden VOL. I. B 18 ON THE INFLUENCE OF times when society began ; it is the image of the state which is to come, when God sliall be all in all. Such are the effects of religious institutions upon men, with respect to their religious ca- pacity, their moral character, their political state, and their domestic life. Whoever, therefore, habitually absents him- self from attending on public ordinances, has to answer for it to his God, — to his neigh- bours,— to his country, — and to his family. He partakes with other men in their sins ; he associates with the enemies of mankind ; and does what in him hes to undermine the ba- sis on which the order and happiness of ci- vil society is built. He teaches the false swearer to take the name of God in vain ; he directs the midnight robber to his neigh- bour's house ; and he delivers into the hand of the assassin, a dagger to shed innocent blood. But, blessed be God ! that, corrupted as the world is, there are not wanting instances of exemplary piety in every station of life ; not only in the middle, the lower, and the higher, but in the highest of all. While piety shines, as it now does, from the throne ; while it has the beam of Majesty to adorn it ; let RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 19 none of the subjects fail in copying the pattern : and while we meet together in this phice, let us remember, that many who have worshipped, in times past, within these walls, are now in the Higher House, in the Church of the First- born, in the Assembly of Angels, and in that Temple where the beatific presence of the Lord displays his glory, in a manner which hath not entered into the heart of man to conceive. b2 SERMON II. ON THE PRACTICE OF DEVOTION, Rom. xii. 11. Fervent in spirit ; serving the Lord. Jl he manners of mankind are perpetually varying. Two nations differ not more from one another, than the same nation differs from itself, at different periods of society. This change of customs and manners has given rise to two opinions, both of them generally re- ceived, and both of them founded on mis- take. These are, that we are always improv- ing upon our ancestors in art and in science, and always degenerating from them in religion and morals. When we talk of any work of ingenuity or of industry, composed or per- formed by our forefathers, from the highest liberal science, to the lowest mechanic art, if ON DEVOTION. 21 we allow it any praise at all, our panegyric runs in this style : " It is very well for the " time in which it was done." On the other hand, we always allow our ancestors the pre- ference in virtue. For these five thousand years past, the philosophers and moralists of every nation have extolled the times of anti- quity, and decried the age in which they liv- ed, as the worst that ever was known. " These " wicked times," — ^' This degenerate age," are phrases that have rung in the public ear almost since the general deluge. The ages of antiqviity are always ages of gold ; the pre- sent always an age of iron. The origin of these opinions I take to be this. As customs and manners are perpetu- ally fluctuating, the reigning mode is always reckoned the best, because they have no other standard but fashion. But fashion is not the standard of morals. The hand of the Al- mighty hath written the moral law, the stand- ard of virtue, upon the living tablets of every human heart. Here then the standard is fix- ed and eternal. Accordingly, as quite a difl ferent set of virtues and vices prevail in one age, from what prevail in another ; as we are naturally disposed to bury the faults of our forefathers in oblivion ; as we insensibly con- 22 ON DEVOTION. tract a veneration for what is great in antiqui- ty ; hence arises the opinion, that the virtues of a former age are greater than those of a following one. We think we degenerate from our fathers, because we differ from them. But were I to pronounce of the times in which we live, I would say that the present age is not inferior in virtue to the past. We have im- proved vipon our ancestors in humanity, cha- rity, and benevolence ; we have exchanged the rage and rancour of animals of prey, for the meek and gentle spirit of the dove. The gall of asps is transformed into the milk of human kindness. Great and enormous crimes are less frequent than they have been ; we are better members of society, better neighbours, better friends than our ancestors were. People of different opinions and sects in religion, who some hundred years ago would have been put- ting one another to death, now live together in amity and peace. Would to God I could carry on my pane- gyric, and add, that we are more rehgious and devout than our ancestors were ; that our zeal for the honour of God, and the interests of religion, shines with a brighter lustre, and burns with a purer flame. But alas ! my brethren, I must here change my strain. Your ON DEVOTION. 23 own eyes, your own hearts, will tell you the dismal truth. Is it not a deplorable fact, that instead of being fervent in spirit to serve the Lord, an indifference about religion almost universally prevails ? The very face of seri- ousness is banished from society, and were it not for this day, on which we assemble toge- ther to worship the God of our fathers, the very form of godliness would be exterminated from the earth. To induce you to the practice of devotion, it is proposed, in the Jii^st place, to illus- trate the importance and the advantage of serving the Lord ; and, in the second place, to explain and to enforce, with a few arguments, the duty of serving the Lord with fervency of spirit. In the Jirsf place, let us consider the impor- tance and the advantage of serving the Lord. We are urged to the practice of some vir- tues, by our strong sense of their inviolable obligation ; we are allured to the love of others, by the high approbation of their native beauty, which arises in every well-disposed mind ; we are engaged to the performance of others, by our experience of their utility and influence upon the public good. Piety is equally enforced in all these respects. Its ob- 24 ON DEVOTION. ligation is indispensable ; its beauty is su- preme, and its utility is universal. It is not so much a single virtue, as a constellation of virtues. Here reverence, gratitude, faith, hope, love, concentre their rays, and shine with united glory. Whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are pure, are ho- nest, or of good report ; if there be any me- rit, any praise in human action, piety compre- hends the whole. There is not a disposition of the mind which is more noble in itself, or is attended with greater pleasure than piety. It is accompanied with such inward satisfac- tion, that the duty is sufficiently rewarded by the performance ; and it hath such grandeur in it, that when duly performed, it exalts us to a state but little lower than the angels. The most illiterate man, under the impres- sions of true devotion, and in the immediate acts of divine worship, contracts a greatness of mind that raises him above his equals. Thereby, says an admired ancient, we build a nobler temple to the Deity than creation can present. Piety is adapted to the notions of happiness and chief good which all men entertain, al- though these notions were as various in them- selves as the theories of philosophers have been ON DEVOTION. 25 about their object. If we are actuated by the mild and gentle affections, lovers of nature, willing to retire from the bustle of the world, and to steal through the vale of life with as little noise, and as much peace as possible, re- ligion sanctifies our choice, and doubles all the joys of life with the peace of heaven. Are w^e lovers of society, delighting to enlarge the sphere of our acquaintance in the world, and to cultivate universal friendship with all ranks and degrees of men ? Here, too, religion be- friends us, as it unites all men under one com- mon interest, that of being probationers for eternity. Are we ambitious of fame and ho- nour among men ? This is indeed the univer- sal passion. Nothing more distinguishes the nature of man, than this restless desire of ri- sing above his fellows, of becoming famous, and acquiring a name. But it does not lie in the way of every one to rise in the w^orld, by being advanced to honour and distinction, and commanding the applause of attending multitudes : Fame unbars the gates of her temple but to a chosen few; the candidate will infalUbly meet with many a disappointment and many a downfall in climbing the steep ascent ; but the ]>aths of religion, that lead to glory, honour and immortality, are ever open 26 ON DEVOTION. and safe ; by piety we already enjoy a reputa- tion among the just, and the approbation of our own hearts, and have the certain expectation of that immortal honour which cometh from God only, who writes our name in the book of life. Hither let the man of the world turn, that he may find durable riches, more to be de- sired than gold and all earthly possessions. Here the man of pleasure may find a perpetual fund of enjoyment, in drinking of that stream which proceeds from the river of life ; a stream whose fountain never fails, which has no sedi- ment at bottom, and which runs for ever un- mingled with the waters of bitterness. Piety is the foundation of virtue and mo- rality. True devotion strengthens our obli- gations to a holy life, and superadds a new motive to every social and civil duty. Upon an impartial observation of mankind, it will be found, that those m.en who are the most conscientious in the public and private exer- cises of divine worship, will be most diligent in performing the duties they owe to their neighbour, and in observing the rules of mo- rality. Our holy religion lays us under strong obligations to duty ; the spirit of Christianity dwelling in the heart, must of necessity in- spire it with an ardent desire to perform what- ON DEVOTION. 27 ever things are virtuous and praiseworthy ; and the example of Jesus Christ, which the true Christian sets conthiually before his eyes, will engage him, by all the laws of love, to walk as he also walked, who, according even to the testimony of his enemies, " did all « things well." On the other hand, impiety and immorality naturally go together, as cause and effect. Who is it that is altogether cor- rupt, and a worker of iniquity ? It is|the fool, who has said in his heart, There is no God. When we read of the unjust judge in the Gospel, who feared not God, we natural- ly infer that he regarded not man. Under this particular, we may likewise take notice, that serving the Lord with sincere piety, is the most successful method of becoming pub- licly useful in the world. Man, fallen as he certainly is, is still a benevolent being. Formed for society, he delights in the ex- ercise of his social faculties, he aspires to be eminently useful in the station in which he is placed, and is in his proper element, when he is dispensing happiness around him. The sympathetic emotions that rise in the bosom at the sight of an object in distress, the smile that wakens on the cheek, the tear that starts spontaneous from the eye, at the rcpresenta- 28 ON DEVOTION. tion of scenes of human joy or sorrow, are indisputable indications of the benevolence of our nature. But the low station of many, checks the benevolence of their hearts, and circumscribes it to a narrow sphere. Few have it in their power to become useful to their country, by contriving or effectuating public-spirited designs ; few have it in their power to save their country from the miseries of war, by being its shield in the day of battle ; few can act as the instruments of Pro- vidence, in bringing about national happiness. But all of us can be pious, and by serving the Lord w^ith fervency of spirit, can become uni- versally useful to our country and to the world. By piety, like the prophets of old, we can shield our country from the wrath of heaven ; we can interest Omnipotence on its side, and even derive blessings to ages un- born. A good man is the guardian angel of his countrv. I shall only add on this head, that by serv- ing the Lord here, we have an earnest and anticipation of the happiness of the heavenly state. It is a pleasant reflection, and well worthy of our most serious thought, that we are now entering upon a course of life that will be our employment through eternity. As ON DEVOTION. 29 man is a progressive being, gradually tending to perfection, it is a law of his nature, that he should endeavour to act beforehand, the part to which he is destined in a higher state of being. The child, from his earliest years, an- ticipates in sport the employment of maturer age, loves to imitate the actions of men, and is pleased with the name. We are all of us chil- dren, with respect to our future existence ; and should it not be as natural for him who is born from above, to act over the exercises and enjoyments of that state of being to which he is advancing ? Piety is the beginning of heaven in the mind: Here the sun faintly beams, as in the dubious twilight ; there he shines forth in full meridian glory. What an inestimable privilege then is this, which God hath put into our power ? A life sacred to piety, and to the observance of true and unde- filed religion, introduces us beforehand into the world to come, and gives us an acquaint- ance with the state and society of the angels and blessed spirits who dwell in light. I come now to the second thing proposed, which was, to explain that fervour of spirit, so requisite in the exercises of devotion, and en- force it with a few arguments. so ON DEVOTION. By fervour of spirit, in general, is meant an uncommon application of mind in the per- formance of any thing, a warmth bordering upon transport, that moves every spring of the heart, and carries all before it, to gain its end. So that by fervency of spirit in serving the Lord, must be understood, an ardent and ac- tive desire of loving the Lord, of v^orshipping him in sincerity, and obeying his commands with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength. It con- sists not in a few transient .fits and starts of natural devotion when we are in jeopardy, without help of man ; neither is it a wild blaze of religious passion, that flashes and vanishes ; much less shall it be profaned by confounding it with those furies. Enthusiasm and Supers ti- lion, who would drench a country with inno- cent blood, under pretence of serving the Lord. " Cursed be their anger, for it is fierce, and « their wrath, for it is cruel. O my soul en- " ter not thou into their secret." True fervour of spirit proceedeth from, above. It is a beam from the father of lights, pure and benign, which at once enlightens and warms the mind. It is a ray from the Sun of Rigliteousness, bright even at the be- ginning, and which shineth more and more ON DEVOTION. 31 nnto the perfect day. It is a temper wrought into the heart by the Holy Spirit, compound- ed of love to God, and of zeal for his honour, attended with charity to man. This fervour of mind, in its full extent, is one of tlie brightest ornaments of the Christian. It enters into the heart, and engages the whole man on the side of devotion ; it gives a double measure of force and alacrity to that religion which before was sincere. In a word, it is to the spiritual life, what health is to the natural; it makes that spirited and [cheerful, which otherwise would only breathe and move. Con- scious that religion is his grand concern, the fervent Christian will set about the duties of it with suitable ardour and intenseness of mind. The passions and affections which God hath given man, as the springs of action, will in him be exerted to their noblest purpose, to inspire him with alacrity ancS cheerfulness in the ways of the Lord. He will be in pain till he has performed his duties of devotion, and labours of love, holding nothing too dear which will procure to him that robe of holi- ness, which is beautiful in the eyes of Heaven. He feels in his heart all the devout affec- tions and desires so passionately described by the holy Psalmist, which we know not whether 32 ON DEVOTION. to admire most as beautiful strains of poetry, or raptures of devotion. " As the hart panteth " after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul " after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for " God, yea, the living God : when shall I " come and appear before God ? How amiable " are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts ! My " soul longeth, yea, fainteth for the courts " of the Lord. For, a day in thy courts is " better than a thousand. — The desire of my *' soul is to thee, O God, and to the remem- " brance of thy name. With my soul have I " desired thee in the night, yea, with my spi- " rit within me will I seek thee early. My " soul waiteth for thee, O Lord, more than " they that watch for the morning ; yea, more " than they that watch for the morning." To engage us more effectually to the per- formance of this part of our duty, let us con- sider the general obligations we lie under, as rational creatures, to serve the Lord with fer- vency of spirit, and then the particular obliga- tions that arise from Christianity. And, in the Jirst place, As the Almighty is the Creator of the world, and the Father of the human race, he is likewise their Preserver, and the author of order and harmony in the uni- verse. ON DEVOTION. 33 In his Providence, he takes us, the children of men, into his particular tuition, in giving us, from his immediate hand, all things requi- site for our subsistence, well-being, and de- lio-ht in this world, our well-ordered habita- tion ; in making nature spontaneously unlock to us her hidden stores ; in causing the wide creation, one way or other, administer to our pleasures, as if heaven and earth contended which should be most liberal of their favours to happy man ; and, in fine, admitting us, above all the other inhabitants of our earth, into the plan of his creation, and making us specta- tors of that beauty, original and supreme, the image of himself, which he hath poured forth over all his works. But when we consider his particular Provi- dence, with respect to every one of us, our ob- ligations will be infinitely heightened. Here we discern the finger of God. His goodness lent a favourable ear to all our feeble cries and complaints, when we were upon the breast ; he guarded us from a thousand dangers and diseases which hung over our heads, and cut off more than one half of our equals in age ; he hath led us, as it were, by the hand, through the various stages of life, affording us many de- VOL. I. G 34 ON DEVOTION. liverances, and many tokens of his loving kind- ness, which only ourselves and Heaven were privy to ; and when all things in the world seemed to combine against us, he was a friend that never failed. Seeing, then, he upholds our existence, and is the parent of so many mercies, has he not, as our Supreme Benefac- tor, a title to the service of our whole lives, and to all the fervour of our spirits ? This will appear still more, in the next place, when we consider the superior obliga- tions which we are laid under by Christia- nity. While many nations are sitting in dark- ness, and the shadow of death, on us hath the Sun of Righteousness arisen, in full glory. We are let into the mystery kept hid from ages. We have seen the Deity, in human form, descending vipon earth, to teach the be- nighted nations the knowledge of salvation ; to set a pattern of goodness and perfection for the world to imitate ; and, by expiating the guilt of sin upon the cross, to finish our re- demption. We have now a new and living way opened into the Heaven of Heavens, by the blood of Jesus. Life and immortality are brought to light, and promised to all who sin- cerely believe and obey the gospel. So that we may now rejoice with the Poet of Israel,— ON DEVOTION. 35 " As the heaven is high above the earth, so " great is the mercy of the Lord towards us ; " for as far as the east is from the west, so far " hath he removed from us all our iniquities : " He redeemeth our lives from destruction, " and crowneth us with loving-kindness and " tender mercies." When we are obliged to any of our fellow- creatures for an important favour, what plea- sure is it to a generous heart to be able to make the least return ! If our benefactor be above us in his station in life, if he bestowed the favour without any solicitation on our part, and promises still to continue our friend, shall we not take every occasion of shewing that we are not ungrateful, and search for opportunity of serving him, as for hid treasure ? What thanks, what praises, what services, shall we not then render to our Supreme Benefactor, who had translated us from his kino-dom of darkness into the kingdom of his Son ; who delivered up his Son unto the death for us, and with him freely gives us all things ! We have abundance of ardour and zeal in our temporal concerns. We rise early, and sit up late : we deny ourselves the pleasures and comforts of society : we forego our native country, and all the dear connections of early c 2 36 ON DEVOTION. life : we traverse the whole terraqueous globe, expose ourselves to the mercy of winds and waves, and bear alternately the extremities of heat and cold : we breathe in the regions of infection and of death, — to am.ass a few pieces of shining dust, whose acquisition costs us such sore trouble, and whose possession gives us so little happiness. Almighty God ! shall we be thus fervent and zealous in every temporal, in every trivial concern, and remain cold and dead unto thee ! If thus we continue, my brethren, the very heathens issuing forth from their re- gions of darkness, will set up a tribunal and call us before them : " The men of Nineve " shall rise up in judgment with us, and shall " condemn us ; because they repented at the ^^ preaching of Jonas, and behold a greater than ^' Jonas is here ! The Queen of the South shall " rise up in judgment with us, and shall con- " demn us ; for she came from the uttermost " parts of the earth, to hear the wisdom of " Solomon, and behold a greater than Solo- " mon is here !" — *' Verily, it shall be more " tolerable for the land of Sodom and Go- " morrha, in the day of judgment, than for our " city." Do you consider, my brethren, the digni- ty and importance of that religion, to which ON DEVOTION. 37 your attachment is required ? Do ye reflect, that this is the masterpiece of infinite wisdom ; that here tlie Ahnighty made bare his holy arm, and put forth all his strength ? The in- troduction of this religion was the object of all the dispensations of the Deity upon earth. This is the centre in which terminates every line in the great circle of Providence. If one nation was victorious, and another put under the yoke ; if war was commissioned to ravage and lay desolate the earth, or peace to make the joyful inhabitants sing beneath the vine ; if kings were crowned, or were dethroned ; if empires rose or fell, all was preparatory and subservient to this grand event. The mo- narchies which prevailed in the world, whe- ther Assyrian, Persian, Grecian, or Roman, were erected as introductory to the Messiah, whose kingdom was to be without bounds, and whose reign was to be without end. That great image which the Monarch of the East beheld in his dream, whose head was of gold, whose breast was of silver, whose thighs were of brass, and whose feet were of iron, was set up by Providence, to prepare the way for the Stone which was cut out without hands, which was destined to smite the image, become a great mountain, and fill the whole eaith. All 38 ON DEVOTION. events, whether prosperous or adverse, whe- ther malignant or benign, have co-operated towards the advancement of our rehgion. Saints have estabhshed it by their lives : mar- tyrs have confirmed it, by their deaths : hypo- crites have added strength to it, by their dis- simulation : tyrants have purified it, by their persecutions : infidels have corroborated it, by their opposition : the arrows of its enemies have served for its protection : the resistance which it has met with, from the combined wit and genius and malice of mankind, have brought forth those illustrious and immortal defences, which establish its truth upon the basis of demonstration. Shall we not, then, reckon ourselves eter- nally indebted to the infinite goodness of God, and stir up all that is wdthin us to bless his holy name ? — saying in the language of true fetvour of spirit, " We will praise thee, O " God ! we will praise thee with our whole " heart ! our lives shall be thy sacrifice ! we " will adore thee in death, and through eter- " nity!" God, from his throne in heaven, doth not behold an object more noble, and more worthy of his view, than a pious man ; a man who, conscious of the dignity and immortality of ON DEVOTION, 39 liis nature, employs himself with fervour and zeal, in those devout exercises which assimi- late him to the Divinity, who, measuring time by his improvements in devotion and virtue, never loses a day. He is the favourite of Heaven. The arm of the Almighty is stretch- ed out in his behalf. The Lord loves him, and keeps him as the apple of his eye ; he oives his ann:els charo;e concerning him, to preserve him in all his ways, lest at any time he should dash his foot against a stone. He delights to speak his praise in the assemblies of his saints and angels above : he writes his name in the book of his remembrance, and gives him the honourable title of the friend of God. He makes all things work together for his good in this world, and, in the dark vale of death, opens his eyes to discern the dawning of heavenly day. In fine, he holds his very ashes sacred ; and, raising him up at the last day, carries him to his throne in heaven above, w^ith the glorious company of the redeemed, to be made partaker of his own happiness. These are thy palms, O piety ! thine is the kingdom prepared above, thine the power with God and with man, and thine the crown of glory that fadetji not away ! SERMON III. ON EARLY PIETY. EccLES. xii. !• Rememhtr tiow thy Creator in the dai/s of thy youth When Solomon, in early youth, had ascend- ed the throne of Israel, the God of his fa- thers appeared to him in a dream. The Al- mighty was graciously pleased to condescend thus to visit his creature. He put in his offer all the pleasures of the world, and desired him to ask, and he should receive ; to wish, and he should enjoy. The young king pos- sessed a wisdom beyond his years, and a great- ness above his crown. He did not ask to have his palace filled with the beauties of the East, to have his treasury stored with the gold of Ophir, or to wear the laurel of victory OK EARLY riETY, 41 over the nations. He asked a greater boon than all these. " Give thy servant, O Lord," repHed the wise prince, " Give thy servant *' wisdom and understanding." What he then made the object of his own choice, he recom- mends to you under another name, in the words of the text : '' Remember now thy " Creator in the days of thy youth." This is the last chapter of the works of So- lomon, and these words may be regarded as his dying advice to the young. The philoso- phers of antiquity, who held out the lamp of wisdom to the heathen world, gave the same advice to their followers. But between them and Solomon, there is this remarkable differ- ence; they, from the obscure retirement of the schools, declaimed against pleasures which they had never tasted, and affected to despise honours to which they never had it in their power to ascend. But Solomon, a great and powerful prince, in the pleasurable time of life, had in his own person tried the experi- ment. He made the tour of the sensual world. He went in quest of happiness through all the scenes of life. He extended his search over the broad and flowery way, as well as in the narrow path, as it should seem by a par- ticular permission of Providence, to save the 43 ON EARLY PIETY. pains of future inquirers. Solomon acted the libertine upon a principle of inquiry. The re- sult of his researches was, that all unlawful pursuits began with vanity, and ended in vexation of spirit, and that the true happiness of man consisted in that understanding which teaches us to depart from evil, and in that wisdom which instructeth us to fear the Lord. It is common in Scripture, to express all the acts of devotion and virtue by some part or principle of religion, sometimes by wisdom and understanding ; at other times, by faith, love, the fear of God, walking with God, and many other phrases ; all of which express the same meaning, and denote the whole economy of a religious life. So that remembering our Creator in the days of our youth, implies an early and an entire dedication of ourselves to the service of God. In further discoursing upon these words, I shall enforce the exhortation in the text, and endeavour to persuade you to remember your Creator in the days of your youth, from the pecuHar suitableness of religion to the early period of life. And, in \he first place, let me exhort you now, in the days of youth, to re- member your Creator, from your being as yet uncorruptcd by the world. ON EAKLY PIETY. 43 Although both Scripture and experience testily that man is fallen, and that our nature is corrupted, yet it is equally certain, that our earliest passions are on the side of virtue, and that the good seed springs before the tares. iMaUce and envy are yet strangers to your bosom. Covetousness, that root of evil, hath not yet sprung up in your heart ; the selfish, the wrathful, and the licentious passions, have not yet obtained dominion over you. The modesty of nature, the great guardian of vir- tue, is not seduced from its post. You would blush, even in secret, to do a deed of disho- nesty and shame. High sentiments of honour and of probity, expand the soul. The colour comes into the cheek at the smallest appre- hension of blame ; the ready lightning kindles in the eye at the least appearance of treachery and falsehood. Hence, says our Lord to his followers. Unless you become as a child ; unless you assume the candour, the innocence, and the purity of children, you cannot enter into the kingdom of God. Therefore, whilst you are yet an offering fit for heaven, present your- selves at his altar ; devote yourselves to his service. How beautiful and becoming does it appear for young persons, newly arrived in this city of God, to remember the end for 44 ON EARLY riETY. which they were sent into it, and to devote to their Maker's service the first and the best of their days ? When they are in the prime of youth and of healtii, when the mind is untaint- ed with actual guilt, and alive to every gener- ous impression, to consecrate to religion the vernal flower of life? The virgin innocence of the mind, is a sacrifice more acceptable to the Almighty, than if we should come before him with the cattle upon a thousand hills, and with ten thousand rivers of oil. If there be joy in heaven over a great and aged sinner that repenteth, how pleasing a spectacle will it be to God, to angels and to the spirits of just men made perfect, to behold a person in the critical season of life, acquit himself glorious- ly, and despising the allurements, the deceit- ful and transitory pleasures of sin, choose for himself that better part which shall never be taken away ! Dare, then, O young man, to remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth. Have the courage to be good betimes. Beware of fall- ing into the usual snare of the inexperienced ; beware of thinking that you have time enough to be religious, and for that reason may defer the work of your salvation to maturer age^ when, as you foolishly imagine, seriousness ON EARLY PIETY. 45 and sanctity will come of their own accord. In answer to this, let me ask you, my friends, How often have you observed time reform any one ? Did time reform Saul ? Did time reform Ahab ? Did time reform Jezebel ? On the contrary, did they not grow bolder in wickedness ? You generally, indeed, observe a greater decency in maturer age. The ebul- lition of youtli is then spent, its turbulence is over ; but, too often, I am afraid, the wild passions have only given place to an external sobriety, whilst the heart is far from God, and as carnal as ever. If you suspect this to be a hasty decision, examine what passes in the world. Do you not observe great part of men in the decline of life as earthly-minded as before ? The passion for pleasure has indeed abated, but the love of lucre, the most sordid of all passions, hath come into its place. If such persons have any regret for their past life, it is only because it is past. Even then they look with envy upon the gay and the flourishing state of the young. With what joy and tri- umph do they talk over the excesses of their early days, and seem to renew their age in the contemplation of their youthful follies ? Alas, my friends, is not God the Lord of all your time ? Is there one of your days which doth 46 ON EARLY PIETY. not pertain to him? Why would you then take the flower of Hfe, and make it an offer- ing to the enemy of souls ? Is your time too long to be all employed in the service of God ? Is the prime of your days too precious to be devoted to heaven ? And will you only re- serve to your Maker the refuse of life, — the leavings of the world and the flesh ? If you would speak it out, the language of your heart is this: That whilst you are good for any thing, 3^ou will mind the world and its pleasures ; that you will crown yourselves with rose-buds before they are withered, and let no flower of the spring pass away ; but if at any time the world shall forsake you, if your passion for pleasure shall have left^you, you will then seek the comforts of religion; any part of your time, you think, is good enough for God ; you will apply yourselves to the work of your sal- vation, when you are fit for nothing else ; and when you cannot make a better of it, you will seek the kingdom of heaven. Is it thus that ye requite the Lord, O people, foolish and unjust? Is this your gratitude to your benefactor ? Is this your love to your Father? Is this your kindness to your Friend? Whilst he now calls upon you in the sweetest language of Heaven, " My son, give me thy QN EAULY PIETY. 47 " heart/' ought it not to be the natural move- ment of your heart, to answer, with the good man of old, " With my soul have I desired " thee in the night ; with my spirit within me, " will I seek thee early:" — " Whom have I in " heaven but thee? and there is none in all the *' earth whom I desire besides thee." In the second place, Let me exhort you to early piety, from the consideration of those evils which await you in your future days. Now is your golden age. When the morn-^ ing of life rejoices over your head, everything around you puts on a smiling appearance. All nature wears a face of beauty, and is animated with a spirit of joy. You walk up and down in a new world ; you crop the unblown flower, and drink the untasted spring. Full of spirit, and high in hope, you set out on the journey of life : visions of bliss present themselves to view : dreams of joy, with sweet delusion, a- muse the vacant mind. You listen and ac- cord to the song of hope, " To-morrow shall be as this day, and much more abundant." But ah ! my friends, the flattering scene will not last. The spell is quickly broken, and the enchantment soon oven How hideous will life appear, when experience takes off the 48 ON EARLY PIETY. mask, and discovers the sad reality! Now thou hast no weariness to clog thy waking hours, and no care to disturb thy repose. But know, child of the earth, that thou art born to trouble, and that care, through every subse- quent path of life, will haunt thee like a ghost. Health now sparkles in thine eye, the blood flows pure in thy veins, and thy spirits are gay as the morning : but, alas ! the time will come when diseases, a numerous and a direful train, will assail thy life ; the time will come, when pale and ghastly, and stretched on a bed, " chastened with pain, and the multitude of " thy bones with strong pain, thou wilt be " ready to choose strangling and death rather '' than life." You are now happy in your earthly com- panions. Friendship, which in the world is a feeble sentiment, with you is a strong passion. But shift the scene for a few years, and behold the man of thy right-hand become unto thee as an alien. Behold the friend of thy youth, who was one with thine own soul, striving to supplant thee, and laying snares for thy ruin ! I mention not these things, my friends, to make you miserable before the time. God forbid that I should anticipate the evil day, unless I could arm you against it. Now re- ON EARLY PIETY. 49 member your Creator, consecrate to him the early period of your days, and the light of his countenance will shine upon you through life. Amid all the changes of this fluctuating scene you have a Friend that never fails. Then let the tempest beat, and the floods descend, you are safe and happy under the shelter of the Rock of ages. Thirdly^ The season of youth devoted to piety, will yield you a comfortable old age. When the fire and spirit of youth are decay- ed ; when sober age retires from the noise and bustle of a busy world, and loves to spend in peace the tranquil Sabbath of life, what joy will it afford to be able to look back with pleasure on the actions of other years ! Worn out and weary of his pilgrimage, the traveller now entertains himself by recalling the times that are past, and recollecting the scenes of his early days. In particular, he now loves to recall the period of childhood and of youth, when he wandered up and down, a stranger to care and sorrow, and passed his days in in- nocence. Often does the fond idea recur; often the pleasant period return. It will add much, my friends, it will add much to the plea- sures of the reflection, if you have it in your VOL. I. D 50 ON EARLY PIETY. power to recall to mind that your early days were not only innocent but useful, and devot- ed to the service of your Creator. To look back on a life, no season of which was spent in vain ; to number up the days, the months, and the years, spent in the service of God, will be inward rapture only to be felt. This will cause the evening of life to smile, and make your departure like a setting sun. I shall conclude with one consideration, which I hope will have weight, and that is, if you seek God now in the days of youth, you are certain of success. Go out in the morn- ing of youth, and you are sure to gather the manna of everlasting life. God himself will bend from his throne, and teach your spirits to approach unto him. They who seek him early shall find him, and shall be guarded from evil on his holy mountain. SERMON IV. ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. CoLoss. iv. 5. Redeeming the Time. Among those who have their tune most at their own disposal, there prevails a maxim very different from that which is recommend- ed in the text. The maxim of the world is, to spend time in idleness and folly, or, to speak in their own language, '' to kill time by dissipation and amusement. Life, which appears so short upon the whole, is neverthe- less so long in particular parts, that vast num- bers of men are overstocked with its days and hours ; their time hangs heavy on their hands; they know not how to employ it, or what to D 2 52 ON THE IMPROVEMENT make of themselves. As they have no fund of entertainment within, and for that reason no happiness at home, they naturally look out for it abroad. Hence every pastime is greedily sought after, that can banish thought, and save them from their own company. Hence places of public entertainment are fre- quented, parties of pleasure are formed, plans of dissipation are concerted ; and amusement, frivolous amusement, becomes the serious oc- cupation of life. Only look around you into thevv^orld ! Observe what policy and contri- vance are continually put in practice by men, for pre-engaging every day in the week for one idleness or another ; for doing nothing, or worse than nothing, and that with so much ingenuity and forecast, as scarce to leave an hour upon their hands to reproach them. Such, my brethren, is the life of what is called the worlds a repetition of the same childish conceptions, a perpetual round of the same trifling amusements. If you had been sent on earth to play the fool ; if your pilgri- mage through life were merely a jaunt of plea- sure ; it w^ould be cruel and injurious to awaken you from the delusion. But as you profess to be Christians, and believe this life to be a state of moral discipline and proba- OF TIME. 53 tion for the next, it will be proper and sea- sonable to warn you of the folly of such a course, and to point out a nobler and a happier path, where at once you may see the world, and may adorn it ; where at once you may improve your time, and enjoy life. In order to this, I shall, in the Jirst place, give you some directions for redeeming or improving the tim© ; and, in the second place, set before you the obligations to the practice of this duty. We begin with directions for redeeming the time. In the first place. Treasure up in your memory a store of viseful knowledge, as a pro- per foundation of employment to the mind. It has been the complaint of discontented men in all ages, that life is a scene of dulness, not worth a wise man's care, where the same things come over and over like a tale that is told, which, however entertaining it may ap- pear when it is new, yet, by frequent repe- tition, at last becomes tedious and insipid. The consequence of which has been, that ma- ny, viewing the picture in this disagreeable light, have been inclined to throw off all seri- ous concern about their duty, to give them- selves up to habits of indolence and languor. S4 ON THE IMPROVEMENT iind to make no other use of their time, but to study how to trifle it away. True it is in- deed, that the days of many have thus been spent in vain ; that their Kfe has been a barren circle, witfiin which they have been enchant- ed, going round and round, ever in motion, but never making any advances. But although many have made life a dull round of insigni- ficant actions, yet no ma^ had ever occasion to make it so. It is indeed so to the brutes, who soon arrive at that pitch of perfection which is allotted to their natures, where they must stop short without a possibiUty of going farther. Sense, which is their highest power, moves in a narrow sphere ; its objects are few in number, and gross in kind, and there- fore not only come more quickly round, but also grow more insipid at every revolution. But man is endowed with nobler faculties, and is presented with nobler objects whereon to exercise and employ them. The contem- plation of all divine truth to engage his un- derstanding ; the beauties of the natural and moral world to attract and captivate his affec- tions ; the power, the wisdom, and the good- ness of God, manifested in the works of Crea- tion, of Providence, and of Redemption, to exalt his admiration, and call forth his praise* OF TIME. 55 What employment can be more wortliy a ra- tional being, or better adapted to the faculties of an immortal spirit, than thus to search out the order, the beauty, and the benevolence of nature ; to trace the Everlasting in his works, andtomark the impression of hiscreatinghand, yet recent, on a beautiful world? Or if we turn our eyes towards the moral system, to observe a higher order of things, and a greater exertion of Divinity, in adjusting the plan of Providence, in bringing light from darkness, and good from evil, in causing the most unconnected and contrary events co-operate to one great end, and making all to issue in the general good. Here is a noble path for a rational creature to travel in. Whilst day unto day thus teaches wisdom, night unto night will increase plea- sure. The man who is thus trained up to the admiration of the works of God, and who has tasted the spirit of these sublime enjoyments, will not complain of the insignificance and languor of life. These studies will afford an occupation at all hours. They will make your own thoughts an entertainment to you, and open a fountain of happiness at home. They will diffuse somewhat of heaven over the mind ; they will introduce you before-hand into the society of angels and blessed spirits above, and 56 ON THE IMPROVEMENT already prepare you to bear a part of that beau- tiful hymn of heaven : " Great and marvellous ^^ are thy works, Lord God Almighty ; just '' and true are all thy ways, thou King of '' Saints." Secondly^ Have some end in view ; some object to employ the mind, and call forth its latent powers. In devising, or in executing a plan ; in en- gamno; in the whirl of active life, the soul seems to unfold its being, and to enjoy itself. Man is not like the soil on which he lives, which spends its powers in exercise, and re- quires repose, in order to recruit its wasted strength, and prepare it for new exertions. Activity is an essential attribute of mind. Its faculties exist only when they are exercised ; it gains a new accession of strength from every new exertion, and the greater acquisitions it makes, it is enabled to make still greater. It is not a brook formed by the shower ; it is a living fountain, which is for ever flowing, and yet for ever full. This will account for an ob- servation that we have often occasion to make in life, that none have so little leisure as those who are entirely idle ; that none complain so much of the want of time as those who have nothing to do. The fact is, they want that OF TIME. 57 energy of soul which is requisite to every exer- tion, and that habit of activity which applies to every thing. Indolence unmans the faculties ; impairs and debilitates the whole intellectual system. Those who, under its influence, be- come a kind of perpetual sleepers, degrade themselves from the honours of their nature, and are dead while they live. A habit of ac- tivity is a most valuable acquisition. He who is possessed of it is fit for all events, and may be happy in every situation. This habit is only to be acquired by pursuing some great object that may agitate the mind. Think not that your labour may be spent in vain. "No- thing is in vain that rouses the soul ; nothing is in vain that keeps the etherial fire alive and glowing. The prospect of sornething coming forward ; the pleasure and the pride which the mind takes in its own action, beget insensibly that habit of industry which will abide through life. Thirdly^ Set apart fixed and stated hours for the important duties of life. It is the misfortune of great part of men, that they have no fixed plan of acting. They live extemjpore. They act at random. They are always led by instantaneous impulse, and are driven to and fro as inclination varies. 58 ON THE IMPROVEMENT Their life rolls on through a course of mispent time, and unconnected years, and appears upon review like the path of a cloud in the air, which leaves no trace behind it. It was the custom of the great Alfred, one of the English kings, to divide the day into three parts, which he measured by the burning of tapers. One part he employed in the cares of the government ; another part he dedicated to the cultivation of the liberal arts ; the third he devoted to religion. It would be happy for you, my brethren, if, in this respect, you would imitate such an illustrious example. Let, at least, one part of your time be devoted to the service of God. When the morning ascends from the east, let it be your first care to offer up your earliest thoughts as incense to heaven ; to add your praises to the hymns and hosannahs of the angels in light, and spi- rits of just men made perfect. When the shades of the night fall around you, let it be your constant care to implore the pardoning mercy of God for the errors of the past day, and to commit yourselves to the protection of His Providence who slumbers not nor sleeps. In particular, let this day, which is sacred to the memory of a Saviour's resurrection from the dead ; which is a memorial of the full ac- OF TIME. 59 coniplishment of our redemption ; — let this day be set apart for holy contemplation on the wonders of redeeming love, on the height, and depth, and breadth, and length of the love of Jesus to our race, which passeth all understanding ; which prompted him to forego the glories of his divine nature for a time, to take upon him the robe of humanity, to lead a life of sorrows upon earth, and to suffer a cruel and ignominious, and an accursed death. Let us contemplate this amiable and divine love, till we are changed into the same image, and feel within ourselves an earnest and anti- cipation of that everlasting Sabbath of joy which is reserved for the righteous in the world to come, when time shall be no more. In the fourth place. Endeavour to distinguish your days by some good deed. As those v/ho are intent to amass a fortune, attend to small sums, in like manner, if you would wish to improve your time, you must take care not to lose a day. Many are the ways, and frequent the occasions, which daily pre- sent themselves, of adding to your true happi- ness, of improving your natures, and promot- ing the interests of society. You have all the world before you where to act, and the whole of human life as a theatre of virtue. Through the 60 ON THE IMPROVEMENT assistance of divine grace, conquer the excess of passion, correct some irregular desire, and obtain a victory over the vices that war against the soul. Let your goodness extend to socie- ty, and spread over the land like the light in the morning. Can there be any employment so agreeable to a benevolent mind, and so congenial to the spirit of Christianity, as to assuage the boisterous passions, and reconcile the jarring interests of men ; to open the eye which prejudice has shut; to charm down the spirit of party, and to unite all your neigh- bours in one great family of love ? Is not the employment god-like ; is not the joy divine, to brighten up the face that was overcast with sadness ; to wipe the tears from the cheek of sorrow ; to turn the voice of mourning into the notes of joy ; to make misery and woe va- nish before us like darkness before tlie sun ; to refresh with showers of blessings the dry and barren land wherein no water is, and, co- operating with a beneficent Providence, to watcli for the happiness of tiie world ? Where is there any one so destitute of the gifts of grace, of nature, and of fortune, as to have no mite to throw into the public treasury ? He who cannot pretend to enlighten or reform the world, may instruct his ignorant, or com- OF TIME. 61 fort his afflicted neighbour: he who cannot communicate instruction, may give alms. If even these are not in your power, the gate of heaven is ever open ; the throne of grace is ever accessible ; and by your intercession with God, society may reap more benefit, than from the bounty of the opulent, or the labours of the learned. It was thus that Job improved his time, as we learn from his affecting com- plaint, when he reviewed the days of his pros- perity : " O that I w^ere as in months past, as in " the days when God preserved me ; as in the " days of my youth, when the candle of the " Lord shined upon my head, when the Al- " mighty was yet with me, when my children " were about me ; when the ear heard me, " then it blessed me ; when the eye saw me, " it gave witness to me ; because I delivered " the poor that cried, the fatherless, and him " that had none to help him. I was eyes to " the blind, feet was I to the lame : I was a " father to the poor, and the cause which I " knew not, I searched out. The stranger " did not lodge in the street; I opened my " doors to the traveller. The loins of the " naked blessed me, and were warmed with " the fleeces of my flock. The blessing of " hun that was ready to perish came upon me, 62 ON THE IMPROVEMEXT « and I caused the widow's heart to sing for In the lad place, Accustom yourselves to frequent self-examination. Call yourselves to an account at the close of the day. Inquire wdiat you have been do- in o- ; whether you have lost a day, or redeem- ed the time. Have you learned any useful truth ; treasure it up in your heart, as a valu- able acquisition ; make it a principle of ac- tion, and bring it into life. Have you done a good deed? then enjoy the self-approving hour, and give thanks unto God for the pleasures of virtue, and the testimony of a good con- science. Have you been led astray by temp- tation, and overtaken in a fault? repent sin- cerely of your past transgression ; implore the mercy of God, through the merits of Jesus Christ, and resolve, through divine grace, to be more guarded in the time to come. Did we, my brethren, thus make a study of a holy life; were we as much in earnest about im- proving the soul in piety and virtue, as we are about many trifling concerns, to what high de- grees of sanctity might we ascend ! How plea- sant would it be, at the close of any period of time, to look back on a life, no season of which was spent in vain ; to number up the days^ the OF TIME. 63 months, the years, that are marked with good deeds; to behold our youth, our manhood, and our age, as so many stages in our journey to the land of Emanuel? This would inspire us with that peace of God which passeth all understanding. This would cheer the travel- ler in the decline of his days. His evening would be bright and pleasant, and his sun go dow^n in glory. Life thus spent would make us triumph in death. Time thus improved, would make us rejoice through all eternity. I have thus given you some directions for the proper improvement of time. — The second thing proposed was, to set before you the obli- gations to the practice of this duty; which I shall do by considering, in the Jirst place, your nature as men, and, in the second place, your expectations as Christians. In the j^r5^ place, Let us consider our na- ture as men. It is a study full of instruction to the curi- ous or the pious mind, to contemplate the ap- pearances in the universe, and trace the laws by which it is governed. All nature is busy and active. Something is ever coming for- ward in the creation ; in the moral world, as well as in the natural, tliere is a design going 64 ON THE IMPROVEMENT on. The great purpose of nature in our sys- tem is to diffuse existence ; to multiply all the forms of matter and classes of being. Every element is stored with inhabitants. Even the loneliest desert is populous, and putrefaction is pregnant with life. Worlds are inclosed in worlds, and systems of being going on, that escape the eye of sense. Such is the plan of Providence in this infe- rior world. The order established at the first of time is still advancing. The divine Spirit, who at the beginning moved upon the face of the deep, and turned a chaos into a beautiful world, still continues to move, inform, and ac- tuate the great machine. Nothing in nature is at rest ; all is alive, all is in motion in the great system of God. Thou, too, O man ! art appointed to action. The love of occupation is strongly implanted in thy nature. One way or another, thou must be always employed. Woe to the man who, by his own folly, is doomed to bear the pains and penalties of idleness. Rest is the void which mind abhors. An idle man is the most miserable of all the creatures of God. He falls upon a thousand schemes to fill up his hours, and rather than want employment, is contented to lie upon the torture of the mind, w^hile the cards are shuf- OF TIMK. 65 fling, or the die is depending. The glory of our nature is founded upon exertions of acti- vity. From the want of them, those in the more affluent stations of life, whose fortune is made at their birth, so often fail in attaining to the higher improvements and honours of their nature. Have you not, on the other hand, seen men, w^hen business roused them from their usual indolence, when great oc- casions called them forth, discover a spirit to which they were strangers before, and display to the world abilities and virtues which seem- ed to be born with the occasion? While there are so many splendid objects to allure the mind, why trust your character to be evolved by ac- cident ? Why leave your glory in the power of fortune ? This activity is not only the source of our excellence, but also gives rise to our greatest enjoyments. Even the lower class of enjoy- ments, animal pleasures, are not only consist- ent with a life of activity, but also derive from it additional sweets. Hours of leisure, sup- pose hours of employment ; they alone will relish the feast, who have felt the fatigues of the chase. But mere animal pleasures are not of themselves objects for a wise or a good man. Unless they are under the direction of VOL. I. E 66 ox THE IMPROVEMEXT taste ; unless they have the accompaniments of elegance and grace ; unless they promote friendship and social joy ; unless they come at proper intervals, and have the additional heightening of being a relief from business, they soon pall upon the appetite, and disgust by repetition. Has sensuality a charm when thy friend is in danger, or thy country calls to arms ? Who listens to the sound of the violj when the trumpet sounds the alarm of battle ? When the mind is struck with the grand and the sublime of human life, it dis- dains inferior things, and, kindling with the occasion, rejoices to put forth all its strength. Obstacles in the way only give additional ar- dour to the pursuit ; and the prize appears then the most tempting to the view, when the ascent is arduous, and when the path is mark- ed with blood. Plence that life is chosen, where incentives to action abound ; hence se- rious engagements are the preferable objects of pursuit ; hence the most animating occa- sions of life are calls to danger and hardship, not invitations to safety and ease ; and hence man himself^ in his highest excellence, is found to pine in the lap of repose, and to exult in the midst of alarms that seem to threaten his being. All the faculties of his OF TIME. 67 frame engage him to action : the higher powers of the soul, as well as the softer feel- ings of the heart ; wisdom and magnanimity, as well as pity and tenderness, carry a mani- fest reference to the arduous career which he has to run, the difficulties with which he is destined to struggle, and the sorrows he is ap- pointed to bear. Happiness to him is an exertion of soul. They know not what they say, who cry out, " Let us build tabernacles ^' of rest." They mistake very much the na- ture of man, and go in quest of felicity to no purpose, w^ho seek for it in what are called the enjoyments of life ; who seek for it in a ter- mination of labour, and a period of repose. It is not in the calm scene ; it is in the tempest ; it is in the whirlwind; it is in the thunder that this Genius resides. When once you have discovered the bias of the mind ; when once you have recognised your path in life ; when once you have found out the object of the soul, you will bend to it alone ; like an eagle when he has tasted the blood of his prey, who disdains the objects of his former pursuit, and follows on in his path through the heavens. Thus have I set before you your obligations as men, to make a right use of life, and have shewed you, from the principles of nature a- e2 68 ON THE IMPllOVEMENT lone, without having recourse to Christianity, that the excellency and the happiness of man consists in a virtuous course of action, and in making a proper improvement of time. Let us now, in the second place, take in the con- siderations suggested by the Christian rehgion, and see what new obligations arise from it, to urge us to redeem the time. It is the doctrine of revelation, then, that the present life is a state of probation for the life to come ; that we are now training up for an everlasting existence; and that, accord- ing to our works here, we shall be judged in a future world. According, therefore, as you now sow, hereafter you shall reap. The time is now passing that decides your fate for ever. The hours are at this instant on the wing, upon which eternity depends. In this view, let me exhort you to look back upon your past life. Call your former hours to an ac- count. Ask them vvdiat report they have car- ried to Heaven. Is there any thing in your life to distinguish it from mere existence^? Do you discern any thing but shadows in that mirror which remembrance holds up ? Is the book of memory one vast blank, or blotted all over ? If this be the case, — and I am afraid it is the case with a great part of men, — What OF TIME. 69 better arc ye tliaii the animals of the field or the forest ? Like you they sleep and they wake ; like you they eat and they drink ; like you they perform the various functions of nature. Alas ! my brethren, did Almighty God create you after his own image, that you might sink that image to the resemblance of a beast ? For what have you done since you came into being to distinguish yourselves from the brutes that perish ? Have you glorified God in all your actions ? Have you made your calling and election sure, by a lively faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, by repentance from dead w^orks, and by universal purity of heart and life? Have you enriched your mind with the trea- sures of wisdom ? Have you adorned your life with the beauties of holiness ? Have you laid up many deeds of piety and charity, as a good foundation against the time to come ? Un- less you have done these things, you have done nothing. You have been blanks in the uni- verse. You are as if you had never been. You have been fast asleep ; nor has your sleep been the less sound, that you have dreamed you were awake. I now call upon you to arise, or be for ever fallen. It is now high time to awake. Al- mighty God now calls upon you to finish the 70 OK THE IMPiiOVEMENT work which he hath given you to do. Glory, and honour, and immortality are set before you. Up then and be doing, and the Lord shall be with thee. With such views of your duty, and upon these principles of action, you will never join in the apology which some make for themselves, that the general tenor of their life is innocent, and that they have at least the negative merit to do no harm. Per- haps this account may be true ; but let me ask such persons, have you ever considered the parable of the master who called his servants to account ? He delivered talents to each of them, according as he saw fit, with this charge, " Occupy till I come." The servant who re- ceived the one talent was neali2:ent and sloth- ful. He wrapt up his talent in a napkin, and hid it in the earth. He thought he did well, if he secured the capital till his Lord's return. But the master received the talent with indig- nation. He cast the unprofitable servant into utter darkness, and condemned him to weep- ing and wailing, and gnashing of teeth. The poor wretch was neither a thief nor a murder- er. He had not wasted his Lord's goods. He had your plea, — he had done no harm. But he was found guilty of idleness and sloth ; he received his sentence, and was condemned to OF TIME. 71 punishment. That which is the ground of your security, could not save him from con- demnation. But, in good earnest, do you no harm ? Is it no harm to wander from the cradle to the grave, in a hibyrinth of amusements, either vain or childish ? Is it no harm to waste in dissipation and expensive pleasure, that wealth which might have saved an honest family from beggary and want ^ Is it no harm to squander in one continued round of vanity and folly, those precious hours on which your future happiness depends ? If there be harm in hu- man actions, this is harm. It is a criminal ne- gligence w^hich will turn the scale of your eter- nal doom. To you, my younger friends, this duty re- commends itself under the most interesting claims. You are now in that period when time can be improved to the best advantage. With you every hour of life is precious. The misimprovcment of youthful days is more than the loss of time. It were of little conse- quence to throw away a few^ days from your life; but along with these, you cut off the substantial improvements, the real joys of maturer a^e. Fiojure to vourselves the loss which the year would sustain, if the spring 72 ON THE IxMPROVEMENT were taken away ; — such a loss you sustain. No tears, nor lamentations, nor bitter up- braidings, will ever recall that golden period. The star sets to rise no more ; the flood rolls away never to return. Your own experience, my aged brethren, will urge the instant necessity of redeeming the time. Consider the fate that awaits you soon; A few steps will bring you to the threshold of that house which is appointed for all living, Man that is born of a woman is of few days. He cometh forth as a flower, and is cut down ; he flieth as a shadow, and continueth not. By the unalterable law of nature, all things here hasten to an end. An irresistible rapidity hurries every thing to the abyss of eternity ; to that awful abyss, to which all things go, and from which nothing returns. The great drama of life is perpetually going on. Age succeeds to age> and genera- tion to generation. Not long ago our fathers trod the path whicli their fathers had trodden before them ; we have come into their room, and now supply their places. In a little time we must resign to another race, who in their turn also shall pass away, and give place to a new generation. The race of men, saith a Jewish writer^ is like the leaves of the trees* OF TIMK. 73 They come forth in the spring, and clothe the wood with robes of green. In autumn they wither; they fall; the winter wind scatters them on the earth. Another race comes in the season, and clothes the forest again. Consider the world, my friends, as you saw it at first, and as you see it now. You have marked vicissitude and alteration in all human affairs. You have seen changes in almost every department of life. You have seen new ministers at the court, new judges on the bench, and new priests at the altar of the Lord. You have seen different kings upon the throne. You have seen peace and war, and war and peace again. How many of your equals in age have you survived ? How many younger than you, have you carried to the grave? Year after year hath made a blank in the number of your friends. Your own coun- try hath insensibly become a strange land, and a new world hath arisen around you, before you perceived that the old had passed away. The same fate that hath taken away your friends, awaits you. Even now the decree is gone forth. The king of terrors hath received his commission, and is now on his way. If you have misemployed your time, that talent which God hath put into your hand ; if your 74 ON THE IMPROVEMENT life is marked with guilt or folly, how will you answer to your own heart at that awful hour? For, previous to the general doom, Ahuighty God hath appointed a day qfjudg^ ment in the breast of every man. The last hour is ordained to pass sentence on all the rest. The actions of your former life will there meet you again. How will you then answer at the bar of your own heart, when the collected crimes of a lengthened life at one vien\ shall j^a^A upon the mind ; when the ghosts of your departed hours, of those hours which we have murdered^ shall rise up in ter- rible array, and look you in the face ? What would you then give for that time which you now tlirow away ? What would the wretch who lies on a bed of agony, extended and groaning, who feels in his heart the poisoned arrow of death ; who, looking back on his past life, turns aside from the view ; who, looking forward to futurity, discerns no beam of hope to break that utter darkness which overwhelms him ; what would he then give for those hours which you now despise, to make his peace with Heaven, and fit him for his passage into the world unknown ? Ee- member, my friends, that this is no imagin- ary case ; it is a case which may soon be your OF TIME. *75 own. Be wise, therefore, while wisdom can avail, and save yourselves irom the agony of repenting in bitterness of soul, when all re- pentance may be in vain. To sum up all : My friends, the time is short. VVe are as guests in a strange land, who tarry but one night. We w^ander up and down in a place of graves. We read the epi- taphs upon the tombs of the deceased. We shed a few tears over the ashes of the dead ; and, in a little time, we need from our sur- viving friends the tears we paid to the memo- ry of our friends departed. Time is precious. The time is now pass- ing that fixes our fate for ever. The hours are, at this instant, on the wing, which carry along with them your eternal happiness or eternal misery. Time is irrecoverable. The clock is wound Tip once for all; the hand is advancing, and, in a little time, it strikes your last hour. SERMON V. ON REVERENCE AND HOLY FEAR. Psalm iv. 4. — Stand in awe. When the Patriarch Jacob departed from his father's house, and entered on that state of pilgrimage, which only terminated with his life, he lighted on a certain place, where he tarried all the night. Agreeably to the sim- plicity of the ancient world, he laid himself down to rest upon the open plain ; without any pillow but a stone of the field; and with- out any covering but the curtains of heaven. A stranger he was to the elegance and luxury of after times, but he enjoyed pleasures of a higher kind. The God of his fathers was with ON REVERENCE AND HOLY FEAR. 77 him. In the patriarchal ages, before a public revelation was given to the world, the Deity frequently appeared to holy men in dreams and visions of the night. Accordingly, Jacob, in his dream, beheld a ladder set upon the earth, the top of it reaching unto the heavens, and upon it the angels of God ascending and descending : and behold ! the Lord stood above, and said, " I am the Lord God of " Abraham, thy father, and the God of Isaac; " the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I " give it, and to thy seed; and thy seed shall " be as the dust of the earth; thou shalt spread " abroad to the east and to the west ; to the " south and to the north; and in thee, and in " thy seed, shall all the families of the earth " be blessed." Did the Patriarch awake in a rapture of joy, when he had been thus so highly favoured of the Lord ? You shall hear : — " And Jacob " awakened out of his sleep, and he said, Sure- " \y the Lord is in this place, and I knew it " not : and he was afraid, and said. How dread- " ful is this place ! This is none other but the " house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." Though he had ascended in the visions of God, and beheld scenes of glory which few are ad- mitted to see ; though be had received the 78 ON REVERENCE AND most gracious promises of personal safety, of prosperous increase to his descendants, and of the Messiah who was to spring from his race, nevertheless an impression of reverence and awe was the last which remained upon his mind. In like manner, my friends, although you have the near prospect of commemorating the most joyful event which signalizes the annals of time, yet if, at the approaching solemnity, God shall be in this place, you will experience that state of mind which the Patriarch was in when he awoke from his dream, and an im- pression of seriousness and awe will keep its hold of your heart. There is a degree of re- verence and holy fear which ever attends reli- gion. Even when God manifests his mercy, it is that he may be feared. Hence we are called to serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice before him with reverence. All objects make an impression upon the mind correspondent to their own nature. A beautiful object calls forth pleasing ideas, and excites a gay emo- tion. A grand object leaves upon the mind an impression of grandeur. In all sublime scenes, there is a mixture of the awful. The view of the skies by night ; the moon moving in the brightness of her course ; and the host HOLY FEAR. 79 of heaven in silent majesty performing their eternal rounds, strike an awe and adoration in- to the mind; we feel divinity present; we bow down and worship in the temple which the Most High God hath built with his hand, and hath filled with his presence. The pre- sence of a respectable character raises a simi- lar impression on the mind ; and the man who sets the Lord always before him, will feel his heart impressed with that mixture of serious- ness and holy fear, which the Psalmist here re-* commends, when he says, " Stand in awe." In further treating upon this subject, I shallj in the jirst place, point out the advantages of this seriousness and reverence which we ouaht to maintain upon our minds ; and, in the se^ cond place, shew you the suitableness of this temper of mind to our present state. The first thing proposed is, to point out the advantages of this seriousness and reverence which we ought to maintain upon our minds. The great art of happiness consists in regu- lating, with propriety, the various offices of human life. To allow no duty to interfere with another ; to prevent devotion from grow- ing austere ; and to restrain enjoyment from being criminal, is the mark of true wisdom and of true piety. Every department of life 80 ON REVERENCE AND is beautiful in its season. There is a time to be cheerful, and a time to be serious ; an hour for solitude, and an hour for society. Provi- dence hath appointed a great part of our hap- piness to consist in society. We find, in every situation of life, that it is not good for us to be alone. Hence, civil society at first was instituted; hence attachments are daily formed ; and man is cemented to man by every feeling of nature, and every tie of the heart. But, as we abuse and corrupt every thing, the blessing of society is often turned into a curse. To innocent cheerfulness, a wanton levity succeeds, which banishes sober thought, and laughs at every thing that is se- rious. How often, in life, do we meet with the sons and daughters of folly, whose sole business is amusement ; whose life is one con- tinued scene of idleness and dissipation ; ever- lasting triflers, whose volatile minds are per- petually on the wing, as if they had been sent to this earth merely to play the fool. Not that I condemn cheerful society and innocent enjoyment. When God gives, let man enjoy. Let us drink from the fountain of joy, when we are sure there is no poison in the cup. But, my brethren, I must remind you, that but a narrow interval, often but a HOLY FEAR. 81 single step lies between enjoyment and ex- cess ; between the voice of mirth and the roar of riot ; between innocent entertainment and a loose and licentious indulgence. Look back on your past life, and tell me, O man ! when was it that you felt yourself most strongly inclined to go astray ? When was it that you found yourself seduced in thought, to wander from the paths of purity and upright- ness ? Was it not in the hour of levity and indulgence ? Did not your heart betray you when your spirits were elevated ; when you had banished sober recollection, and deli- vered yourself over to the deUrium of exces- sive joy ? Here then is the advantage of se- riousness and reverence. It places a guard upon the heart. It keeps the world and its temptations at a due distance. It consecrates the mind in which it resides, as with the pre- sence of the Deity. A heart thus impressed with the fear of God, will not so readily be assaulted by the tempter, nor so easily yield to the temptation. An impure and profane guest will hardly venture upon hallowedground, or dare to violate the sanctity of a temple. The presence of a good man is a check upon the turbulence and uproar of the giddy ; they are inspired with a reverence for his charac- VOL. u F 82 ON REVERENCE AND ter ; they feel how awful goodness ky and res- train themselves from those indecent levities to which they are accustomed. If a regard for man has such influence upon the mind, what may the fear of God be supposed to have? The man who is possessed of this holy fear, sets the Lord always before him. He enters beforehand into heaven, and dwells in the presence of God. And canst thou, O man ! defile the purity of heaven with the deeds of hell ? Barest thou violate the law in the presence of the Lawgiver? Darest thou sin in the very face of thy Maker ? Wilt thou make the Judge of all the earth the wit- ness of thy wicked actions, the beholder of thy loose moments ? No. In such a presence thou wilt banish all impure thoughts, and all unhallowed affections, like Moses at the burn- ing bush, because the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. Thus, of itselfj this serious frame of mind is the guardian and the protector of religion ; and it also associates with other virtues which belong to the Christian character. Those who are acquainted with the nature of the mind, know the influence and extent of association upon human life and manners. It is not a single quality that marks and characterizes a HOLY FEAIJ. 83 man ; tlie virtues and the vices come in a train ; it is the temper of the soul which is all in all in the conduct of human life. But to the temper and disposition here recommend- ed, the most respectable attributes of the mind, and the most amiable qualities of the heart, are allied and peculiar. In the first place, this serious frame of mind cherishes those higher virtues of the soul, which, in the emphatic language of the Sa- cred Scripture, are called " the armour of " God." In the solemn silence of the mind are formed those great resolutions which de- cide the fate of men. That magnanimity which rises superior to the events of life ; that fortitude which bears up under the pressure of affliction ; and that Christian heroism which, neither moved with the threatenings of pain, nor with the blandishments of plea- sure, holds on rejoicing to the end ; are all of them but expressions of this character, varied and diversified accordino; to the occurrences of life. They are the light^ the giddy, and the volatile, who are the sport of caprice or the prey of passion. Persons of such a cha- racter have no permanent principle of action ; they are the sinners or the saints of accident ; and assume every folly to which the fashion f2 84 ON REVEREKCE AXD of the world gives its sanction. Very differ- ent is the serious man who communes with his own heart. He follows not the multitude. He possesses that strenuous and steady mind, which walks by its own light, which holds its purpose to the last ; that self-deciding spirit which is prepared to act, to suffer or to die, as duty requires. Being thus^ by the grace of God, the master of his own mind, he is above the world ; and through prosperity or adversity, through life or death, goes forth conquering and to conquer. He is not guid- ed by events like the giddy multitude, who fall into any form by the fortuitous concourse of accidents ; but, imitating the Providence of Heaven, he takes a direction of events, and makes the course of human affairs bend to his purposes, and terminate in his honour. Further, this temper and disposition is no less favourable to the milder virtues of huma- nity. A serious mind is the companion of a feeling heart. It is akin to that virtuous sen- sibility, from which all the sympathetic emo- tions are derived ; and readily associates with those good affections which constitute the most amiable part of our nature. The thoughtless and the dissipated are unconcern- ed spectators of human happiness or misery ; HOLY FEAR. 85 they mar not their enjoyments by rushing hito foreign woe ; and are never so much in earnest, as to give a tear to the distresses of mankind. " They he upon beds of ivory," saith the prophet ; " they stretch themselves " upon their couches ; they chant to the " sound of the viol ; ;ind they anoint them- " selves with the chief ointments ; but they " are not grieved for the affliction of their " brethren." But he who feareth God, will also regard man. The hour of incense has always been the hour of alms-giving. Whilst the heart is lifted up in devotion to God, the hands will be stretched out in beneficence to man. Think not, my friends, that these are duties of inferior importance, and not proper to be called up to your remembrance upon this occasion. The ordinance w^hich you are soon to celebrate, is the communion of saints, and the feast of love. The cup of blessing which we bless, saith the Apostle, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ ? The bread which we break, is it not the commu- nion of the body of Christ ? As we are all partakers of that one bread, so by that parti- cipation, we being many, become one body. Being thus the meml^ers of one body, the great law^ follows, which he afterwards lays 86 ON UEVEUENCE AND down, That if one member suffers, all the members should suffer with it ; and if one member rejoices, all the members should re- joice. The second thing proposed, was to shew the suitableness of this teijiper of mind to our present state. And, in the Jirst place, it is suited to that dark and uncertain state of being in which we now live. Hum.an life is not formed to an- swer those high expectations which, in the era of youth and imagination, we are apt to entertain. When we first set out in life, we bid defiance to the evil day ; we indulge our- selves in dreams and visions of romantic bliss ; and fondly lay the scene of perfect and unin- terrupted happiness for the time to come. But experience soon undeceives us. We awake, and find that it was but a dreani. We make but few steps in life, without finding the world to be a turbulent scene ; we soon experience the changes that await us, and feel the thorns of the wilderness wherein we dwell. Our hopes are frequently blasted in the bud ; our designs are defeated in the very moment of expectation, and we meet with sorrow, and vexation, and disappointment, on all handst HOLY FEAR. 87 There aie lives besides our own^ in which we are deeply interested ; lives in w^iicli our hap- piness is placed, and on v/hich our hopes de- pend. Just when we have laid a plan of happy life ; when, after the experience of years, we have found out a few chosen friends, and have begun to enjoy that little circle in which we would wish to live and to die, an unexpected stroke disappoints our hopes, and lays all our schemes in the dust. When, after much la- bour aijd care,, we have reared the goodly struc- ture ; when we have fenced it, as we fondly imagine, from every storm that blows, and in- dulge the pleasing hope, that it will always en- dure, an invisible hand interposes, and over^ turns it from the foundation. Who knoweth what awaits him in life ? Who knoweth the changes through which he is destined to pass? Son of prosperity ! Thou now lookest forth from " thy high tower ; thou now gloriest in thine excellence ; thou sayest that thy moun- tain stands strong, and that thou art firm as the cedar of Lebanon, — But stand in awe. Before the mighty God of Jacob, and by the blast of the breath of his nostrils, the mountain hath been overturned, and the cedar in Lebanon hath fallen like the leaf before the whirlwind. At this very moment of time, the wheel is ir) 88 ON REVERENCE AND motion that reverses the lot of men, — that brings the prosperous to the dust, and lays the mighty low. Now, O man ! thou rejoicest in thy strength, but know, that for thee the bed of languishing is spread; pale, ghastly and stretch- led on thy couch, thou shalt number the tedi- ous hours, the restless days, the wearisome nights, that are appointed to thee, till thy soul shall be ready to " choose death rather than *' life." Thou now removest from thee the evil day, and sayest, in thy heart, thou shalt never see sorrow ; but remember the changes of this mortal life ; for thee the " cup of trem- " bling" is prepared, and the '' wine of asto- " nishment is poured out." How often, in an instant, doth a hand unseen shift the scene of the world 1 The calmest and the stillest hour precedes the whirlwind, and it hath thunder- ed in tlie serenest sky. The monarch hath drawn the chariot of state in which he' was wont to ride in triumph, and the greatest who ever awed the world have moralized at the turn of the wheel. In the second place, the propriety of this temper will appear, if we consider the scene that soon awaits us, and the awful change of being that we have to undergo. The sentence of the Lord is passed upon all flesh. JMan, HOLY YEAH. 89 who art born of a woman ! one day thou must die. The decree is gone forth, and the time appointed for its fulfilment is approaching fast. Short is the period which is allotted to mortal man. In a little time the scene changes, and the places that knew us shall know us no more. We bid an eternal adieu to all below the sun ; we enter on a new state of being, and appear in the immediate presence of God. After death comes the judgment. Thou must answer, O man ! to the Searcher of hearts, for the deeds done in the bodv. The actions of the past life shall rise up to thy remem- brance ; the secrets of thy soul shall be dis- closed ; and thy eternal doom be fixed by God, the Judge of all. In thy last moments thou ziilt be serious^ and stand in awe. The most thoughtless sinner will stand aghast, and the stoutest heart will tremble at that awful, that parting hour, when, to the closing eye, God appears, with as full conviction, as if the curtain between both worlds was withdrawn, and the Judge in very deed descended to his tribunal. How serious wilt thou be when, surrounded by the sad circle of thy weeping friends, thou readest in their altered looks that thy hour is come ; when, cut off from all con- nection with mortality, thou takest the last 90 ON REVERENCE AND look of what thou heldest dear in life ; when the cold sweat, the shivering limb, and the voice faultering in the throat, announce thy departure into the world unknown ! What manner of persons ought we to be, who have such events awaitinc? us ! Ou«^ht we not to stand in awe; to join trembling with our mirth ; to commune with our hearts alone, and be still as in the presence of that God, before whose tribunal we have soon to appear ? In the third place, this frame of mind is pe-r cuHarly proper for you now, as a preparation for that solemnity which you are soon to cele- brate. Holy is every ordinance of the Lord ; but this is the holiest of all, and should in- spire us with reverence and godly fear. You are to be engaged in the most solemn ordi- nance of our religion. You are to be employ- ed in the most important work of your lives, to seal vour vows in the faith of everlasting redemption. You are going to transact with the God of Glory, before whom ten thousand limes ten thousand angels and archangels bow (lown and admire and adore. You are about to commemorate the most tremendous event which is to be found in the records of time ; that scene which made the sun grow dark, and which the earth trembled to behokl God HOLY FEAll. 91 shews himself to be awful, even when he ma- nifests his mercy, and causes all his goodness to pass before you. When he blesses men with the greatest testimony of his love, it is by smiting his own Son ; when the gate of heaven is set open to the world, it is opened by the blood of one who is higher than the heavens. Whilst thou rejoicest, therefore, at the re- membrance of thy redemption, think with wonder upon the ransom by which it was accomplished, and implore the assistance of the Divine Spirit, that you may serve God ac- (jeptably, with reverence and godly fear. SERMON VI. ON DEATH. Job, XXX, 23, For I knox^ that thou mlt bring me to deatk^ and to the house appointed for all living. This book of Job contains the history of a righteous man, fallen from the heiglit of pros- perity, into scenes of great distress. Almost every affliction v^hich falls to the lot of mortal man, embittered his life. His goods were taken away by robbers ; his body was smitten by a loathsome and tormenting disease ; his family was cut off, and all his company made desolate by a sudden stroke from heaven ; his surviving friends proved miserable comforters, and, instead of relieving, added to his afflic- tions. His head was bare to every blast of adversity, and his heart bled with all the va- ON DEATH. 98 rieties of pain. In the course of his complaint, he utters the genuine voice of sorrow, and pours forth his soul in lamentation and woe. He sets before us the evil day ; he shews us the dark side of things, and presents to view those shades in the picture of human life, which must one day meet our eye. From these calamities, he passes, by a natural tran- sition, to the consideration of the last evil in human life : — '^ I know that thou wilt brino; " me to death, and to the house appointed for " all living." Man is a serious being. There is a string in the heart which accords to the voice of sor- row, and impressions of grief take the strong- est hold of the mind. There is a time when solitude has a charm ; when cheerfulness gives place to melancholy ; and when the house of mourning is better suited to the soul than the house of mirth. Even our amusements often partake of a serious turn. For the sake of amusement, we give our attention to histories of woe ; we sit spectators to the scene of sor- row, and devote the hours to melancholy and to tears. And yet, by a strange perversion of mind, though we rush into foreign woe, and take delight in weeping for the fate of others, yet our own departure excites little attention 94 ON DEATH. or regard, notwithsl.anding the many warn- ings which tell us that here we have no con- tinuing city ; although few weeks elapse with- out being marked with the funeral of a neigh- bour or a friend, we remain in a criminal in- difference ; the tear is soon dried upon our cheeks, and we muse upon the fate of our friends with unconcern. If, by removing the thought of death, men could remove the day of death, their conduct would admit of an excuse. But whether you think of it or not, death approaches, and the want of preparation will only serve to sharpen the sting, by the surprise with which it may strike. Since we know then, assuredly, that God will bring us to death, and to the house ap- pointed for all living, let us consider, in the Jirst place, the certainty of its approaching soon ; secondly^ the time and manner of its arrival ; and, thirdly, the change which it in- troduces. In the first place. Let us consider the cer- tainty of death's approaching soon. All the works of nature, in this inferior sys- tem, seem only made to be destroyed. Man is not exempted. There is a principle of mortality in our frame, and, as if we were ON DEATH. 95 only horn to die, the first step we take in Ytie is a step to the grave. It was not always so. Adam came from the hands of his Creator perfect and immortal. The Almighty creat- ed man after his own image. He planted in his frame the seeds of eternal life, to m-ow and flourish through a succession of a^xes. This noble shoot, which the hand of the Most High had planted, was blasted by sin. When man became a sinner, he became mortal. The doom was pronounced, that, after few and evil days, he should return to the dust from whence he was taken. Since that time, as soon as our eyes open on the lights we come under the law of mortality, and the sentence of death is passed. In the morning of our day, we set out on our journey for eternity; thither we are all fast tending : and day and night we travel on without intermission. There is no standing still on this road. To this great ren- dezvous of the sons of Adam we are contin- ually drawing nearer and nearer. Our life is for ever on the wing, although we mark not its flight. Our motion down the stream of time is so smooth and silent, that though we are for ever moving, we perceive it not, till we arrive at the ocean of eternity. Even now death is doing his work. At this very m-o- 96 ON DEATH. ment of time, multitudes are stretched on that bed from which they shall rise no more. The blood is ceasing to flow ; the breath is going out ; and the spirit taking its departure for the world unknown. When we look back on our former years, how many do we find who began the journey of life along with us, and promised to them- selves long life and happy days, cut off in the midst of their career, and fallen at our side! They have but gone before us ; one day we must follow. O man ! who now rejoicest in the pride of life, and looking abroad, sayest in thy heart, thou shalt never see sorrow, for thee the bed of death is spread ; the worm calls for thee to be her companion ; thou must enter the dominions of the dead, and be ga- thered to the dust of thy fathers. If then death be certainly approaching fast, let us learn the true value of life. If death be at hand, then certainly time is precious. Now the day shines, and the master calls us ; in a little time the night cometh, when no man can work. To-day, therefore, hear the voice which calls you to heaven. " Now is the ac- '* cepted time ; now is the day of salvation.'* — " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it '« with thy might 5 for there is no work, nor ON DEATH, 97 (ft device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the ^^ grave, whither thou goest." In the second place, We may consider the time and manner of the arrival of death. Death is called in Scripture the land with-^ out any order ; and without any order the king of terrors makes his approaches in the world* The commission given from on high was, " Go "into the world : Strike so, that the dead may ^' alarm the living." Hence it is, that we sel- dom see men running the full career of life ; growing old among their children's children, and then falling asleep in the arms of nature, as in the embraces of a kind mother ; coming to the grave like a shock of corn ^ fully ripe ; like flowers that shut up at the close of the day. Death walks through the world without any order. He delights to surprise, to give a shock to mankind. Hence he leaves the wretched to prolong the line of their sorrows, and cuts off the fortunate in the midst of their career ; he suffers the aged to survive himself, to outlive life, to stalk about the ghost of what he was, and aims his arrow at the heart of the young, who puts the evil day far from him. He delights to see the feeble carrying the vigorous to the grave, and the father build- VOL. 1. G 98 ON DEATH* ing the tomb of his children. Often, when hU approaches are least expected, he bursts at once upon the world, like an earthquake in the dead of night, or thunder in the serenest sky. All ages and conditions he sweeps away with- out distinction ; the young man just entering into life, high in hope, elated with joy, and promising to himself a length of years ; the father of a family from the embraces of his wife and children; the man of the world, when his designs are ripening to execution, and the long expected crisis of enjoyment seems to approach. These, and all others, are hurried promiscuously off the stage, and laid without order in the common grave. Every path in the world leads to the tomb, and every hour in life hath been to some the last hour. Without order too, is the manner of Death's approach. The king of terrors wears a thou- sand forms ; pains and diseases, a numerous and a direful train, compose his host. Mark- ing out unhappy man for their prey, they at- tack the seat of life or the seat of understand- ing ; hurry him off the stage in an instant, or make him pine by slow degrees ; blasting the bloom of life, or, waiting till the decline, ac- cording to the pathetic picture of Solomon, " They make the strong men bow themselves, ON DKATH. 99 " and the keepers of the house tremble ; " make the grinders cease ; bring the daugh- " ters of music low ; darken the sun, and the " moon, and the stars ; scatter fears in the " way, and make desire itself to fail, until the " silver cord be loosed, and the golden bowl *' be broken, when the dust returns to the ^^ dust as it was, and the spirit ascends to God ^' who gave it." In the tJiird place, We have to consider the diange which Death introduces. Man was made after the image of God ; and the human form divine, the seat of so many heavenly faculties, graces, and virtues, exhi-* bits a temple not unworthy of its Maker. Men, in their collective capacity, and united as nations, have displayed a wide field of ex- ertion and of glory. The globe hath been covered with monuments of their power, and the voice of history transmits their renown from one generation to another. But when we pass from the living world to the dead, what a sad picture do we behold ! The fall and desolation of human nature ; the ruins of man ; the dust and ashes of many generations scattered over the earth. The high and the low ; the mighty and the mean ; the king and g2 100 ON DEATH. the cottager, lie blended together, without any order. The worm is the companion, is the sister of him, who thought himself of a dif- ferent species from the rest of mankind. A few feet of earth contain the ashes of him who conquered the globe ; the shadows of the lonir nirfit stretch over all alike: the monarch of disorder, the great leveller of mankind, lays all on the bed of clay in equal meanness. In the course of time, the land of desolation becomes still more desolate; the things that were, become as if they had never been ; Baby- lon is a ruin ; her heroes are dust ; not a trace remains of the glory that shone over the earth, and not a stone to tell where .the master of the world is laid. Such, in general, is the hu- miliating aspect of the tomb ; but let us take a nearer view of the house appointed for all living. Man sets out in the morning of his day, high in hope, and elated v/ith joy. The most important objects to him are the com- panions of his journey. They set out toge- ther in the career of life, and, after many mu- tual endearments, walk hand in hand through the paths of childhood and of youth. It is with a giddy recollection we look back on the past, when we consider the number and the value of those^ whom unforeseen disaster ON DEATH. 101 and the hand of destiny hath swept from ouu side. Alas ! when the awful mandate comes from on high concerning men, to change the countenance, and to send them away, what sad spectacles do they become ! The friends whom we knew, and valued, and loved, our companions in the path of life ; the part- ners of our tender hours, with whom we took sweet counsel, and walked in company to the liouse of God, have passed to the land of for- getfulness, and have no more connection with the living world. Low lies the head that was once crowned with honour. Silent is the tongue to whose accents we surrendered the soul, and to whose language of friendship and affection we wished to listen for ever. Beam- less is the eye, and closed in night, which look- ed serenity, and sweetness, and love. The face that was to us the face of an angel, is mangled and deformed ; the heart that glow- ed with the purest fire, and beat with the best affections, is now become a clod of the valley. But shall it always continue so ? If a man die, shall he live again ? There is hope of a tree if it be cut down ; but man giveth up the ghost, and where is he ? Has the breath of the Almighty, which animated his frame, vanish- ed into the air ? Is he who triumphed in the hope of immortality, inferior to the worm, his 102 ON DEATH. companion in the tomb ? Will light never rise on the long night of the grave? Does the mighty flood that has swept away the nations and the ages, ebb to flow no more ? Have the wise and the worthy ; the pious and the pure ; the generous and the just ; the great and the good ; the excellent ones of the earth, who, from age to age, have shone brighter than all the stars of heaven, witiidrawn into the shade of annihilation, and set in darkness to rise no more ? No. While " the dust returns to the " earth as it was, the spirit shall return unto " God who gave it." Life and immortality are brought to light by the Gospel of Christ. " We know, that if our earthly house of this " tabernacle were dissolved, we have a build- " ing of God, an house not made with hands, " eternal in the heavens." The periods of human life passing away ; the certainty of the dissolution which awaits us, and the frequent examples of mortality, which continually strike our view, lead us to reflect with seriousness upon the house ap- pointed for all living. Death is the great teacher of mankind; the voice of wisdom comes from the tomb ; reflections, which shew lis the vanity, will teach us the value of life. Such meditations are particularly suited to beings like us, who are subject to infirmitie.'S ON DEATH. 103 and defects. For such is the weakness of hu- man nature in this imperfect state ; such is the strength of temptation in this evil world, that frail man is often led astray before he is aware. The enemy of the soul attacks us in every quarter; approaches often under false colours, and tries every disguise, to deceive and to destroy. Vice often borders on vir- tue ; the narrow path and the broad way lie so near, that it is difficult to distinguish them, so as to order our goings aright. Inadvertence may frequently betray; the impetuosity of passion may precipitate, and the gentleness of our own nature mislead us into steps fatal to our peace. I speak not of wicked men, who acknowledge no guide but their passions, and submit to no law, but what one vice imposes upon another. I talk of the sincere and the good. The most watchful Christian has his unguarded moments ; the most prudent man speaks unadvisedly with his lips, and the meekest lets the sun go down upon his wrath, Alas ! man in his best estate is altogether va- nity, and always stands in need of the lesson from the tomb. " O that they were wise," said Moses, " that they understood this, that " they would consider their latter end f ' SERMON VIL THE CIIKISTIAN's YlCTOllY OVER DEATila 1 Cor. XV. 55^ 57, 0 death! Where is thy sting? 0 grave! Where is thy victory f-^Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory^ through our Lord Jesus Christ, The Messiah is foretold in ancient prophe- cy, as a magnificent Conqueror, His vic- tories were celebrated, and his triumphs were sung, long before the time of his ap- pearance to Israel. " Who is this," saith the prophet Isaiah, pointing him out to the Old Testament Church, " Who is this that *« cometh from Edom ; with dyed garments « from Bozrah ? This that is glorious in his «* apparel; travelling in the greatness of his THE christian's VICTORY OVER DEATH. 105 ^' Strength ?" — '' I have set my King upon ^^ my holy hill of Zion. — I shall give him " the heathen for his inheritance, and the " uttermost parts of the earth for his posses- " sion." As a Conqueror, he had to destroy the works of the great enemy of mankind ; and to overcome Death, the king of terrors. The method of accomplishing this victory was as surprising as the love which gave it birth. " Forasmuch as the children are par- " takers of flesh and blood, he himself like- " wise took part of the same, that through his " own death he might destroy him that had " the power of death, that is the devil, and '* deliver them, who, through fear of death, " were all their lifetime subject to bondage.'* Accordingly, his passion on the cross, which you have this day commemorated, was the very victory which he obtained. The hour in which he suffered was also the hour in which he overcame. Then he bruised the head of the old serpent, who had seduced our first parents to rebel against their Maker ; then he disarmed the king of terrors, who had usurped dominion over the nations, then, triumphing over the legions of hell, and the powers of darkness, he made a shew of them openly. Not for himself, but for us did he conquer. 106 THE christian's VICTORY The Captain of our salvation fought, that w^ might overcome. He obtained the victory, that we may join in the triumphal song, as we now do, when we repeat these words of the Apostle : ''' O death ! where is thy sting ? O " grave ! where is thy victory ?" It is the glory of the Christian religion, that it abounds with consolations under all the evils of life ; nor is its benign influence con- fined to the course of life, but even extends to death itself. It delivers us from the agony of the last hour ; sets us free from the fears which then perplex the timid; from the horrors which haunt the offender, though pe- nitent, and from all the darkness which in- volves our mortal state. So complete is the victory we obtain, that Jesus Christ is said in Scripture to have abolished death. The evils in death, from which Jesus Christ sets us free, are the following ; In the first place, the doubts and fears that are apt to perplex the mind, from the uncertainty in which a future state is involved. Secondli/^ the apprehensions of wrath and forebodings of punishment, proceeding from the consci- ousness of sin. Thirdly^ the fears that arise in the mind upon the awful transition from this world to the next. OVER DKATK. 107 In the Jirsf place, Jesus Christ gives us vic- tory over death, by delivering us from the doubts and tears which arose in the minds of those Vvho knew not the gospel, from the imcertainty in which a future state was in- volved. Without Divine Revelation, men wandered in the dark with respect to an after life. Un- assisted reason could give but imperfect infor- mation on this important article. Conjec- tures, in place of discoveries, presumptions, in place of demonstrations, were all that it could oifer to the inquiring mind. The unenlight- ened eye could not clearly pierce the cloud which veiled futurity from mortal view. The light of nature reached little farther than the limits of this globe, and shed but a feeble ray upon the region beyond the grave. Hence, those heathen nations, of whom the Apostle speaks, are described as sorrowing and having no hope. And w^hence could reason derive complete information, that there was a state of immortality beyond the grave ? Consult with appearances in nature, and you find but few intimations of a future life. Destruction ^seems to be one of the great laws of the sys- tem. The various forms of life are indeed preserved ; but while the species remains, the 108 THE christian's victory individual perishes. Every thing that you behold around you, bears the marks of mor- tality and the symptoms of decay. He only who is, and was, and is to come, is without xmy variableness or shadow of turning. E- very thing passes away. A great and mighty river, for ages and centuries, has been rolling on, and sweeping away all that ever lived, to the vast abyss of eternity. On that darkness light does not rise. From that unknown country none return. On that devouring deep, which has swallowed up every thing, no ves- tige appears of the things that were. There are particular appearances also which might naturally excite an alarm for the future. The human machine is so constituted, that soul and body seem often to decay together. To the eye of sense, as the beast dies, so dies the man. Death seems to close the scene, and the grave to put a final period to the pro- spects of man. The words of Job beauti- fully express the anxiety of the mind on this subject. ^' If a man die, shall he live again ? " There is hope of a tree if it be cut down, " that it will sprout again, and that the tender " branch thereof will not cease. Though «« the root tliereof wax old in the earth, and " the stock thereof die in the ground ; yet OVER DEATH. 109 *' through the scent of water it will bud, and " bring forth boughs like a plant : but man " dieth, and is cut off; man giveth up the " ghost, and where is he ? As the waters fail *' from the sea ; as the flood decayeth and " drieth up : so man lieth down, and ris- " eth not ; till the heavens be no more, they " shall not awake, nor be raised out of their " sleep." But what a dreadful prospect does annihilation present to the mind ! To be an outcast from existence ; to be blotted out from the book of life ; to mingle with the dust, and be scattered over the earth, as if the breath of life had never animated our frame ! — Man cannot support the thought. Is the light which shone brighter than ail the stars of heaven set in darkness, to rise no more ? Are all the hopes of man come to this, — to be ta- ken into the councils of the Almighty ; to be admitted to behold part of that plan of Pro- vidence which 2:ovcrns the world, and when his eyes are just opened, to read the book,—- to be shut for ever ? If such were to be our state, we would be of all creatures the most miserable. The world appears a chaos with- out form, and void of order. From the throne of nature, God departs, and there appears a 110 THE CHKISTIAN's VICTORY cruel and capricious being, who delights in death, and makes sport of human misery. From this state of doubts and fears, we are delivered by the Gospel of Jesus. The mes- sage which he brought was life and immorta- lity. From the Star of Jacob, light shone even upon the shades of death. As a proof of immortality, he called back the departed spirit from the world unknown ; as an earnest of the resurrection to a future life, he himself arose from the dead. When we contemplate the tomb of nature, we cry out, " Can these " dry bones live ?" When we contemplate the tomb of Jesus, we say, " Yes, they can " live !" As he arose, we shall in like man- ner arise. In the tomb of nature, you see man return to the dust from w^hence he was taken. In the tomb of Jesus, you see man restored to life again. In the tomb of nature, you see the shades of death fall on the weary traveller, and the darkness of the long night close over his head. In the tomb of Jesus, you see light arise upon the shades of death, and the morning dawn upon the long night of the grave. On the tomb of na- ture it is written, " Behold thy end, O man ! " dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou re- " turn. Thou, who no^v callest thyself the OVER DEATH. Ill ^ son of heaven, shalt become one of the ** clods of the valley." On the tomb of Christ is written, " Thou diest, O man ! but to live " again. When dust returns to dust, the spi- " rit shall return to God who gave it. I am ^' the resurrection and the life ; he that be- " lieveth in me, though he were dead, yet " shall he live." From the tomb of nature, you hear a voice, " For ever silent is the land of " forgetfulness ? From the slumbers of the " grave shall we awake no more ? Like the " flowers of the field, shall we be as though *' we had never been ?" From the tomb of Jesus, you hear, " Blessed are the dead that '* die in the Lord, thus saith the Spirit, for « they rest from their labours, and pass into <' glory : — In my father's house there are many " mansions ; if it were not so, I would have " told you : I go to prepare a place for you, " and if I go away, I will come again, and *' take you unto myself, that where I am, there " ye may be also." Will not this assurance of a happy immor- tality, and a blessed resurrection, in a great measure remove the terror and the sting of death? May we not walk without dismay through the dark valley, when we are conduct- ed by a beam from heaven? May we not 112 THE christian's VICTORY endure the tossings of one stormy night, when it carries us to the shore that we long for ? What cause have we to dread the messenger who brings us to our Father's house ? Should not our fears about futurity abate, when we hear God addressing us with respect to death, as he did the Patriarch of old, upon going to Egypt, ^* Fear not to go down to the grave ; " I will go down with thee, and will bring *' thee up again." Secondly^ Our victory over death consists in our being delivered from the apprehensions of wrath, and forebodings of punishment, which arise in the mind from the consciousness of sin. That there is a God who governs the world, the patron of righteousness, and the avenger of sin, is so manifest from the light of na- ture, that the belief of it has obtained among all nations. That it shall be well with the righteous, and ill with the wicked ; that God will reward those who diligently seek him, and punish those who transgress his laws, is the principle upon which all religion is founded. But whether mercy be an attribute in the Di- vine nature to such an extent that God may be rendered propitious to those who rebel OVER DEATH. 113 against his authority, and disobey his com- mandments, is an inquiry to which no satis- factory answer can be made. Many of the Divine attributes are conspicuous from the works of creation ; the power, the wisdom, and the goodness of God, appear in creating the world ; in superintending that world which he has made; in diffusing life wide over the system of things, and providing the means of happiness to all his creatures. But from no appearances in nature does it clearly follow, that the exercise of mercy to offenders is part of the plan by which the universe is governed. For any thing that we know from the light of nature, repentance alone may not be sufficient to procure the remission of sins, the tears of contrition may be unavailable to wash away the stains of a guilty life, and the Divine favour may be implored in vain by those who have become obnoxious to the Divine displeasure. If, in the calm and se- rene hour of inquiry, man could find no con- solation in such thoughts, how would he be overwhelmed with horror, when his mind was disordered with a sense of guilt ? When remembrance brought his former life to view, when reflection pierced him to the heart, darkness would spread itself over his mind, VOL. I. H 114 THE christian's VK'TORY Deity would appear an object of terror, and the spirit, wounded by remorse, would dis- cern nothing but an offended Judge armed with thunders to punish the guilty. If, in the day of health and prosperity, these re- flections were so powerful to embitter life- they would be a source of agony and despair when the last hour approached. When life flows according to our wishes, we may endea- vour to conceal our sins, and shut our ears against the voice of conscience. But these artifices will avail little at the hour of death. Then things appear in their true colours. Then conscience tells the truth, and the mask is taken off from the man, when our sins at that hour pass before us in review. Guilty and polluted as we are, covered with confu- sion, how shall we appear at the judgment- seat of God, and answer at the bar of eternal justice ? How shall dust and ashes stand in the presence of that uncreated Glory, before which principalities and powers bow down, tremble, and adore ? How shall guilty and self-condemned creatures appear before Him, in whose sight the heavens are not clean, and who chargeth his angels with folly ? Thiji is the sting of death. It is guilt that sharp- ens the spear of the king of terrors. But even OVER DEATH. 115 in this view we have victory over death, through Jesus Christ our Lord. By his death upon tlie cross, an atonement was made for the sins of men. The wrath of God was a- verted from the world. A great plan of re- conciliation is now unfolded in the gospel. Under the banner of the cross, pardon is pro- claimed to returning penitents. They who accept the offers of mercy, and who fly for refuge to the hope set before them, are taken into favour ; their sins are forgiven, and their names are written in the book of life. Over them death has no power. The king of ter- rors is transformed into an angel of peace, to waft them to their native country, where they long to be. Thus, O Christian ! the death of thy Re- deemer, is thy strong consolation, — thy effec- tual remedy against the fear of deatli. Wliat evil can come nigh to him for whom Jesus died ? Does the law, which thou hast broken, denounce venoeance ao-ainst thee ? Behold that law fulfilled in the meritorious life of thy Redeemer. Does the sentence of wrath, pro- nounced against the posterity of Adam, sound in thine ears ? Behold that sentence blotted out, that hand-writings as the Apostle calls it, cancelled, nailed to thy Saviour's cross, and H 2 116 THE christian's VICTORY left there as a trophy of his victory. Art thou afraid that the cry of thy offences may rise to heaven, and reach the ears of Justice ? There is no place for it there ; in room of it ascends the voice of that blood which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel. Does the enemy of mankind accuse thee at the judge- ment-seat ? He is put to silence by thy Ad- vocate and Intercessor at the right hand of thy Father. Does Death appear to thee in a form of terror, and hold out his sting to alarm thy mind ? His terror is removed, and his sting was pulled out by that hand^ which, on mount Calvarv, was fixed to the accursed tree. Art thou afraid that the arrov/s of Di- vine wrath which smite the guilty, may be aimed at thy head ? Before they can touch thee, they must pierce that body, which, in the symbols of divine institution, was this day held forth crucified among you, and which at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens, is for ever presented in behalf of the redeem- ed. Well then may ye join in the trium- phant song of the Apostle, " O Death ! where " is thy sting ? O Grave ! where is thy vic- « tory ?" In the third place^ Jesus Christ gives us OVER DEATH. 117 Victory over death, by yielding us consola- tion and relief under the fears that arise in the mind upon the awful transition from this world to the next. Who ever left the precincts of mortality without casting a wishful look on what he left behind, and a trembling eye on the scene that is before him ? Being formed by our Creator for enjoyments even in this life, we are en- dowed with a sensibility to the objects around us. We have affections, and we delight to indulge them : we have hearts, and we want to bestow them. Bad as the world is, we find in it objects of affection and attachment. — Even in this waste and howling wilderness, there are spots of verdure and of beauty, of power to charm the mind, and make us cry out, " It is good for us to be here." When, after the observation and experience of years, we have found out the objects of the soul, and met with minds congenial to our own, what pangs must it give to the heart, to think of parting for ever? We even contract an at- tachment to inanimate objects. The tree un- der whose shadow we have often sat ; the fields where we have frequently strayed ; the hill, the scene of contemplation, or the haunt of friendship, become objects of passion to 118 THE christian's VICTORY the mind, and upon our leaving them, excite a temporary sorrow and regret. If these things can affect us with uneasiness, how great must be the affliction, when, stretched on that bed from which we shall rise no more, and look- ing about for the last time on the sad circle of our weeping friends,— how great must be the affliction, to dissolve at once all the attach- ments of Hfe ; to bid an eternal adieu to the friends whom we long have loved, and to part for ever with all that is dear below the sun ! But let not the Christian be disconso- late. He parts with the objects of his affection, to meet them again, — to meet them in a bet- ter world, where change never enters, and from whose blissful mansions sorrow flies away. At the resurrection of the just ; in the great assembly of the sons of God, when all the family of heaven are gathered together, not one person shall be missing that was wor- thy of thy affection or esteem. And if among imperfect creatures, and in a troubled world, the kind, the tender, and the generous af- fections, have such power to charm the heart, that even the tears which they occasion delight us, what joy unspeakable and glorious will they produce, when they exist in perfect minds, and are improved by the purity of tho heavens 1 OVER D^ATH. 119 Christianity also gives us consolation in the transition from this world to the next. Every change in life awakens anxiety; whatever is unknown, is the object of fear; no wonder, then, that it is awful and alarming to nature, to think of that time when the hour of our departure is at hand ; when this animal frame shall be dissolved, and the mysterious bond between soul and body shall be broken. Even the visible effects of mortality are not without terror. To have no more a name among the living; to pass into the dominions of the dead; to have the w^orm for a companion, and a sis- ter, are events at which nature shudders and starts back. But more awful still is the invi- sible scene, when the curtain between both worlds shall be drawn back, and the soul, na- ked and disembodied, appears in the presence of its Creator. Even under these thoughts, the comforts of Christianity may delight thy soul. Jesus, thy Saviour, has the keys of death ; the abodes of the dead are part of his kingdom. He lay in the grave, and hallowed it for the repose of the just. Before our Lord ascended up on high, he said to his disciples, " I go to my Father, and to your Father, to ^' my God, and to your God ;" and when the time of your departure is at hand, you go to 120 THE christian's VICTOllY OVEll DEATH. your Father and his Father, to your God and his God. Enlightened by these discoveries, trusting to the merits of his Redeemer, and animated with the hope which is set before him, the Christian will depart with tranquillity and joy. To him the bed of death will not be a scene of terror, nor the last hour an hour of despair. There is a majesty in the death of the Chris- tian : He partakes of the spirit of that world to which he is advancing, and he meets his latter end with a face that looks to the hea- vens. SERMON VIII. ON THE DOCTRINE OF A PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE, Psalm xcvii. 1. The Lord rdgneth^ let the earth rejoice. To thinking men, the universe presents a scene of wonders. They find themselves brought into the world, they know not how. If they look around them, they behold the earth clothed with an infinite variety of herbs and fruits, subservient to their use, or admi- nistering to their dehght. If they look above them, they behold the host of heaven walk- ing in brightness and in beauty ; the sun ruling the day ; the moon and the stars governing the night. If they attend to the course of na- ture, they behold with wonder the various re- volutions of the year 3 the gradual return of 122 ON THE DOCTlilNE OF A the seasons, and the constant vicissitude of day and of night. Whilst thus they are em- ployed, they behold in the heavens the glory of their Creator ; they discover in the firma- ment the handiwork of Omnipotence, and they hear the voice that nature sends out to the ends of the earth, That all things are the work- manship of a supreme and intelligent Cause. As from these events they conclude the Al- mighty to be the Maker of the world; from the same events, they conclude that he is the Governor of the world which he hath made, and that Divine power is as requisite to pre- serve the order and harmony of the world now, as it was necessary to establish it at the first. But when experience unfolded to them the powers of natural bodies ; when they saw ma- chines contrived by human skill, exhibiting motions, and producing effects, similar to those which they observed in nature, by the impulse of matter upon matter; and when they saw these machines regularly exhibiting such mo- tions, regularly producing such effects, al- though the head that contrived, and the hand that put them together, were removed from them ; this raised an opinion, in some specu- lative minds, that the world resembled such machines ; and that^ as a clock will shew the PARTICLLAU PUOVIDENCE. 123 hour of the day, in virtue of its original frame and constitution, without any further interpo- sition of the artificer that framed it, so nature, in virtue of its original frame and constitution, may and does produce every effect which we see around us, without any further interposi- tion of its Divine Author. This opinion is frequently mentioned and confuted in the Sacred Scriptures. Those men are condemned whose belief it was, that, in the course of hvmian affairs, the Lord would not do good, neither would he do evil. Al- though I seldom choose to carry you through the barren and unpleasant fields of controver- sy, yet, as this question affects so deeply our religious comfort in this state, and our hopes of happiness in a future world, I shall consi- der it at large, and shall, in the first place, shew you the absurdity of that opinion which would exclude God from the government of the world. — Secondly^ establish and confirm the doctrine of a particular Providence. Third-- bj^ shew you the grounds of joy arising to the world from such a Providence. In the^r^^ place, I am to shew you the ab- surdity of that opinion which would exclude God from the government of the workL 121 ON THE DOCTRINE OF A It has been thought by some, " That the ^' Creator of the universe formed the constitu- ^' tion of nature in such a manner at the be- *' ginning, as to stand in need of no succeed- " ing change ; that he estabHshed certain laws ^' in the material and in the moral world, ^' which uniformly and invariably take place, " producing all the effects which he ever in- " tended they should produce ; as when an " artist frames a machine for certain purposes, " and for a limited duration, the effects which " result from it spring not from the immedi- " ate direction and influence of the artist, but ^^ from the original frame and composition of " the machine." Such is the opinion of those who hold what they call a general Providence. We, on the other hand, maintain, that " Al- *• mighty God, upon special occasions, directs ** and overrules the course of events, both in *^ the natural and moral world, by an imme- " diate influence, to answer the great designs " of his universal government." With respect to a general Providence, this mechanical system, this engine by which some persons would throw out the superintending Providence of Heaven, is a creature of the brain. It is a mere presumption. It is by its own na- ture incapable of proof. From whence should PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE. 125 the evidence arise ? Art thou, who exckidest God from his works, entnisted with the se- crets of Heaven ? Wert thou present when God laid the foundations of the world ? Wert thou privy to his councils ? Or do you now see, or can you shew, that original cause, or those original causes, established by God at the creation, from which all the various effects in nature may be deduced, and into which they may mechanically be resolved ? Can you shew the immediate cause of lightning or of rain, or of any other phenomenon in na- ture, and from the immediate cause ascend to the second, from the second to the third, and so upward till you come to the last link of the chain, which hangs immediately upon the throne of God ? This can be done in the works of art. An artist will shew you the de- pendence of all the movements in a machine upon one another ; and when you are as well acquainted with the fabric of the world, as you may be with the structure of a machine, you may then speak of your chain of mecha- nical causes and effects. But, alas ! the most improved philosophy can do no more but skim the surface of things ; and in its progress from the immediate visible to the first invisible 126 ON THE DOCTRINE OF A cause, at one or two removes, it finds its pe^ riod, beyond which it cannot go. Further, this mechanical system of govern- ing the world without the immediate interpo- sition of the Deity, undermines the founda- tion of all religious worship. When we pray for our daily bread, what do we ask but the blessing of God upon the earth, to yield her fruits in due season ? When we ask the bles- sing of God upon our meals, what do we less than recognise his supreme power, and implore him to make the gifts of his Providence the means of our sustenance and refreshment? This disclaims every notion of natural causes and effects that shuts out God ; it supposes his concurrence and co-operation directing all the operations of nature. Again, when we pray for the graces and virtues of the spiritual life, what do we ask but the Divine aid to strengthen the good dispositions he hath al- ready given us, and so to direct and order the course of events, that we may be kept from temptation, or not be overcome when we are tempted ? But this supposes the superintend- ence of God over us ; supposes his interposi- tion in human affairs ; supposes his Providence continually exerted in administering to the wants of his creatures, according as their cir- PAUTICULAU PUOVIDENCE. 127 cumstiinces require. If this account be just, then our worship is a reasonable service. But it' these are vain words, then our worship also is vain. Then every one that goes into his closet to pray, goes only to act foolishly ; then all the good and the pious, everywhere over the face of the whole earth, that are calling upon the Most High God, are as uselesly, as absurdly employed, as if they were falling down before a dumb idol, and paying their devotions to images of wood or stone. Further still, this mechanical system, in a great measure, annihilates the moral perfec- tions of the Divine nature. It places the Al- mighty in a state of indolence, which is in- consistent with every idea of perfection ; it makes him an idle and unconcerned spectator of his own works, and represents him as be- holding virtue and vice, the sinner and the saint, witli an equal eye. There are many scenes in human life, at which, if we were pre- sent, it would be criminal for us not to take a part. Did we see the hands of the violent raised to shed innocent blood, and not rush to prevent the horrid deed ; did we know the re- treats of the robber and the murderer, and not endeavour to bring them to public justice, we would be reckoned in part guilty of their 128 ON THE DOCTRINE OF A crimes, as, by a criminal omission, we should endanger the peace of the public, and the in- terests of society. If we, being evil, would abhor such a character, shall we impute it, can we impute it to Him who is infinite in goodness, and who is possessed of absolute perfection ? To what purpose is God every where present, if he is not everywhere em- ployed ? Whereto serves infinite power, if it must be for ever dormant ? Whereto serves infinite wisdom, if it is never to be exer- cised ? To what purpose are the Divine goodness, and the divine justice, if we only hear of their names? Are all the attri- butes of the Godliead in vain ? How false, how absurd, how blasphemous, is an opinion that would destroy every Divine perfection ! I have thus shewn you the absurdity of that system which would exclude God from the government of the universe, and I am now, in the second place, to establish and confirm the doctrine of a particular providence. This doctrine is founded both upon reason and the Scriptures. Reason and true philosophy never attempt to separate God from his works. We must own him in the sky to hold the planets in PAIITICULAR PROVIDENCE. 129 their respective orbits ; we must own him in the earth, and in the seas, to keep them with- in their proper bounds, and we must own him through the whole system of nature, to sup- port and maintain that gravitating force which gives consistency and stability to all material things. Reason tells us, that it is not pro- bable that the Creator of the universe would forsake that world which he had made ; that it is not probable that a Being, possessed of infinite perfection, can be an idle and uxicon- cerned spectator of his own works. But our chief evidence for this doctrine rests upon Revelation. Mankind obtained early notices of the Divine superintendence, by peculiar interpositions. In the history of the Old Testament, we have an account of the loss of Paradise by sin ; of the banishment of Cain for the murder of his brother ; of the translation of Enoch, as the reward of his righteousness ; of the wickedness of the old world, and its destruction by the deluge, Noah and his family only excepted, who, by the eminence of his piety, found grace in the sight of God to become the Father of the new world. When this new world revolted from God, and ran into idolatry, we see Abraham called out to be the head of a mighty nation, VOL. I. I 130 ON THE DOCTRINE OF A which grew up and flourished, by a series of the most wonderful Providences ; governed by laws of God's own appointment ; with pro- mises of protection and blessing, so long as they should be obedient, and threatenings of punishment and destruction, if they fell off to serve other gods ; which in the event were punctually verified. This was a visible and a standing evidence of a governing Providence. The doctrine was thus established upon a higher authority than reason, and upon better evidence than the light of nature. God re- vealed himself to men as the Governor of the world, the avenger of the wicked, and the pro- tector of the good. But although, in admi- nistering the affairs of the universe, the object of Providence should be to depress the bad and to favour the good ; yet an exact retri- bution of rewards and punishments was none of the ends of his administration in this scene of things. This would have defeated the plan of his Providence, and superseded the necessi- ty of a day of judgment. Nevertheless, he would frequently interpose to punish signal wickedness, or reward illustrious virtue. Thus, in the early ages of the world, he did often mira- culously interpose, to let the nations under- i^tand that he took notice of their riohteous or PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE. 131 unrighteous deeds ; that he had power to vin- dicate the honour of his laws ; and to make examples whenever it was requisite, for the correction and reformation of men. Miracu- lous interpositions were not intended to be permanent or perpetual ; yet the Providence of God was not to cease. Accordingly, he took care to inform us, that what in the first ages he had done visibly, and by miracles, he would do in the latter ages by the invisible direction of natural causes. The Scriptures are so full of this notion, that it would be endless to be particular. You may read the 28th chapter of Deuteronomy, where you will see all the powers of nature summoned as instruments in the hands of the Almighty, to execute the purposes of his will ;— where you behold them commissioned to favour the good with national prosperity, with domestic comforts, with safety from their enemies, with fruitful seasons, with a numerous offspring, and with an abundance of all blessings :— commissioned to punish the wicked with nation- al distresses, with indigence, with slavery, with destructions and molestations of every kind, by war, by famine, and by all sorts of diseases. From all which, the plain inference is this, that the most common and most familiar I 2 132 ON THE DOCTRINE OF A events, are under the direction of God, and by him are used as instruments, either for the hurt or for the good of men. How this particular Providence operates, may, in some degree, be conceived by us. Man, in his limited sphere, can take some direction of natural causes. You can direct the element of fire either to warm or to con- sume ; the elements of air and water to cherish and to annoy : does not that power, then, in a more illustrious manner, belong to God? Is it not as easy for Him^ think you, to give laws to the tempest, where to spend its force ; to direct the meteor flying in the air, where to fall, and whom to consume? Are the ele- mental and subterraneous fires bound up ? he can let them loose. Are they broken loose ? he can collect them as in the hollow of his hand. And all this he performs without un- hinging the general system, and without any visible tokens to us, that he is at all concern- ed, though, in truth, he is the effective agent. In like manner, we may comprehend, in some measure, how God may direct, not only the motions of the inanimate and passive part of the creation, but also the determina- tions of free agents, to answer the purposes of his Providence. The hearts of men are in PAKTIC ULAB PROVIDENCE. 1 33 the hand of the Lord, as much as the rivers of water. This does not in the least destroy the freedom of human actions. Every one knows that the acts of free agents are deter- mined by circumstances ; and these circum- stances are always in the hand of God. The dispositions and resolutions of men are apt to vary, according to the different turns or flow of their spirits, or their different situations in life, as to health or sickness, strength or weak- ness, joy or sorrow ; and by the direction of these, God may raise up enemies or create friends, stir up war, or make peace. Take, as an instance, the history of Haman. That wicked man had long meditated the destruc- tion of Mordecai the Jew, and rather than not satiate his vengeance upon him, would in- volve the whole Jewish nation in utter de- struction. He at last obtained a decree, sen- tencing this whole people to the sword ; and the day was fixed. In this crisis of their fate, how was the chosen nation to be delivered ? Was God visibly and miraculously to inter- pose in favour of his own people ? This he could have done ; but he chose rather to act according to the ordinary train of second causes. He who giveth sleep to his beloved, withheld it from Ahasuerusj the monarch of 134 ON THE DOCTRINE OV A Persia. In order to pass the night, he called for the records of his reign. There he found it written, tliat Mordecai had detected a con- spiracy formed against the life of the king, and that he had never been rewarded for it. By this single circumstance, a sudden reverse took place. Mordecai was advanced to honour and rewards ; the villany of Haman was detect- ed ; the decree fatal to the Jews was revoked ; and the nation of the Jews was saved from in- stant destruction. In like manner, in the his- tory of Joseph, and other histories of the Old Testament, you see the most familiar events made instruments in the hand of God to effect the purposes of his will. There is, then, a particular Providence. The arm of the Almighty, reaching from hea- ven to earth, is continually employed. All things are full of God. In the regions of the air ; in the bowels of the earth ; and in the chambers of the sea, his power is felt. Every event in life is under his direction and con- troul. Nothing is fortuitous or accidental. Let me caution you, however, against abusing this doctrine, by judging of the characters of persons from their outward circumstances. It is to be remembered, that the present life is not a state of recompence, but a state of trial ; PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE. 135 consequently, men are not dealt with in out- ward dispensations according to their true character. The goods of Nature and Provi- dence are distributed indiscriminately among mankind. The sun shines, the rain falls, upon the just and the unjust. It is a dangerous error, therefore, to judge of moral character from external condition in life. This was the error of Job's friends ; this the foundation of the censures they cast against this excellent person, and for which they were reproved. The intention of the book of Job is, to shew the falseness of that supposition, by represent- ing the incomprehensible Majesty of God, and the unsearchable nature of his works. Many instances in Scripture confirm the truth of this observation. Who, that saw David re- duced to straits, wandering for refuge in the rocks and dens of the wilderness, would have believed him to be the prince whom God had cliosen ? Who, that beheld Nebuchadnezzar walking in his palace, surrounded with all the pomp and splendour of the east, would have believed him to be the object of Divine dis- pleasure, and that the decree was gone out, that he was to be driven among the beasts ? Who. that beheld our Lord in the form of a 136 ON THE DOCTRINE OF A servant, would have believed that he was the Master of Nature ? I am, lastly, to deduce the practical conse- quences from the doctrine, by shewing you the grounds of joy and consolation that it gives to the world. In the Jirst place, the doctrine of a superin- tending Providence yields us joy and conso- lation with respect to our lot in life. Many persons are accustomed to complain concern- ing their situation and circumstances in the world. Their desires and their fortune do not correspond ; they think that they are mis- placed by Providence, and look upon the lot of their neighbours as more eligible than their own. It is impossible, in the present system of things, that all men can be alike. Na- ture, through all her works, delights in va- riety. Though every flower is beautiful, and every star is glorious ; yet one flower excelleth another in beauty, and one star exceedeth another in glory. There are also diversities in human life, and a beautiful subordination prevails amongst mankind. The Father of spi- rits hath communicated himself to men, in dif- ferent degrees. But although all men cannot be alike ; yet all men may enjoy a great mea- PAUTICULAR PROVIDENCE, 137 sure of happiness. Every station in life pos- sesses its comforts and advantages. In those comparisons you make of your life with that of others, when you would wish to exchange places with some of your more fortunate neigh- bours, do you not always find something in which you have the superiority ? Is there not some talent of the mind, some quality of the heart, something where you think your strength lies, some one source of enjoyment which you would wish still to retain ? Is not this the tes- timony of nature, that you are happier in that path of life, than you would be in another ? Wherever you are placed by Providence, the station appointed is the post of honour. A general, in the day of battle, marshals his army according as he sees proper, and distributes the posts of danger and importance, according to the courage and the conduct of his soldiers. Your Commander knows your abilities better than you do yourselves : he prescribed to you the duty you have to execute ; and he marked out the path in which you are to seek for ho- nour and immortality. It is from your dis- charge of these offices assigned to you, that the happiness of your life, and the perfection of your character, are to arise. It is not from the sphere they hold in life, but from the 138 ON THE nOCTRINE OF A lustre they cast around them in that sphere, that men rank in the Divine estimation, and figure in the annals of eternity. If, witli five talents, you gain five more, or if, even with one talent, you gain another, you are as praiseworthy as he who, with ten talents, gain- eth other ten talents. Further, as in a kingdom, every high-way leads to the capital ; as in a circle, every line terminates in the centre ; so, in the wide cir- cle of nature, every Hne terminates in heaven; and every path in life conducts alike to the great city of God. The present state is inti- mately connected with the future ; the life which we now lead, is an education for the life which is to come. If your mind were enlarged to comprehend all the connections and depend- encies of things ; if your eyes were opened to take in the whole of your immortal existence, you would then see and acknowledge, that Pro- videncehad assigned to you the very station you would have wished to fill, — the very part you would have chosen to act. Trusting, therefore, in that God who presides over the universe ; assured of that wisdom and goodness which direct the whole train of the Divine adminis-? tration, eaph of us may express our joy in the words of the rsalmisl : " The lines have faU PABTICULAR PUOVIDENCE. 139 " len to me in pleasant places ; I have a good- " \y heritage : The Lord is the portion of mine " inheritance ; the Lord will command tlie " blessing, even life for ever more." In the second place, this doctrine will yield us consolation during the afflictions w^hich we meet with in life. If we believed that the u- niverse was a state of anarchy, confusion, and uproar, that the Governor of the world was a cruel and malignant being, who made sport of human misery, and took pleasure in pu- nishing his vmhappy creatures ; such a thought would overwhelm the mind ; it would turn the gloom of adversity into the shadow of death, and mingle poison in the cup of bitterness which we are doomed to drink. But the Scriptures inform us, that the dark dispensa- tions of Providence are part of that plan which has the good of the world for its ob- ject ; take their rise from the goodness of our Father in heaven ; are intended for the refor- mation and final blessedness of his children. The same word of life which says, " Blessed " is the man whom thou choosest and makest ^' approach unto thee," says also, " Blessed is " the man whom thou chastenest." So far from being marks of the Divine wrath, the af- flictions of life are tokens of the Divine love. 140 ON THi: DOCTRINE OF A While heedless and unthinking we go astray, God interests himself in our favour, and sends these his messengers to bring us to himself. It is but a narrow and imperfect view we take of afflictions, when we consider them on- ly as trials. They are not so much intended for the trial as for the cultivation of virtue. They are sent by Providence, to mortify your unruly passions ; to wean you from the world ; to prepare you for heaven : They are sent for the improvement of your nature ; for the in- crease of your graces, and for the superabound- ing of your joy to all eternity. When under the afflicting hand of Heaven, therefore, you are standing a candidate for immortality ; you are singled out by Providence to exert the part of a Christian, and you are called forth to ex- hibit to the world a pattern of the suffering virtues. He is but a novice in the school of Christ who has not learned to suffer. The best affections of the heart, the noblest graces of the soul, the highest virtues of life, the of- fering that is most acceptable to Heaven, arise from the proper improvement of adversity. The blessed above, whom the prophet saw arrayed in white before the throne, came out of great tribulation ; the blessed above, whom he heard singing the song of Moses and PARTICULAIl PllOVIDENCE. 141 the Lamb, learned the first notes of it on the bed of sorrow. Such is the intention of the afflictions which Providence sends, and even under these af- flictions God is with his people. You are ever under the hand of a merciful Creator, who doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men : He knoweth your frame; he remembereth that you are but dust ; he will afflict you no further than you are able to bear; and as your days are, he hath promised that your strength shall be. Nay, in all your afflictions he is present with you, and the hand that bruised you binds up the wound. Let not then your hearts be troubled. Bear up under the pressure of woe. Rejoice because the Lord reigneth, and exult in the language of the prophet : " Although " the fig-tree should not blossom, nor fruit be <' found in the vine ; though the labour of the '* olive should fail, and the field should yield '' no meat ; though the flocks should be cut " off from the fold, and there shall be no herd " in the stall, yet will I rejoice in the Lord, « I will joy in the God of my salvation." Thirdly^ With respect to the appearances of moral evil and disorder, it is afflicting to the mind to behold disorder in the universe of 142 ON THE DOCTUINE OP A God ; bad men often exalted, while tlie good man's lot is bitterness and pain ; virtue de- pressed, and vice triumphant. He who caus- ed light to arise out of darkness, and order and beauty to spring from chaos and confu- sion, can correct these irregularities. He not only restrains, and says, '' Hitherto, and no " further:" He also over-rules and makes the wrath of men to praise him. Hear how he gives commission, and sends Sennacherib against Israel, as a general sends a weapon of war. " O Assyrian, the rod of mine anger, I will *' send him against an hypocritical nation, *' and against the people of my wrath, to tread " them down like the mire of the streets, " Howbeit he meaneth not so, neither doth " his heart think so ;" that is, neither doth his heart think that he is a mere instrument in the hand of God. David was raised to the throne of Israel by those steps which his foes devised ao-ainst him. The enemv of mankind seducing our first parents, was the means of their being elevated to a greater degree of happiness and glory. Lastly, With respect to our departure from this world, and entering upon a new state of being : We know^ that the time is appointed when dust shall return unto dust, and the PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE. 143 spirit unto God who gave it. But it is awful, it is alarming to nature, to call up the hour when the union between soul and body shall be dissolved ; when our connection with all that we held dear in life shall be broken off; when we shall enter upon a new state of ex- istence, and become inhabitants of the world unknow^n. But even then the providence of God will give us comfort. The Lord reigneth king for ever and ever. The dominions of the dead are part of his kingdom ; time and eternity, the world that now is, and the world that is to come, confess him for their Lord. When thou goest through the dark valley, he will go with thee : In the hour of dissolving na- ture, he will support thy spirit. Thou canst not go but where God is. Around .thee is in- finite love, and underneath thee are the ever- lasting arms. SERMON IX. ON A LIFE OF PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. Proverbs iv. 18. The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. Human life has been often compared to a journey, for this, as well as for other reasons, that we are always making progress in our way. In whatever path we set out, there is no standino; still. Evil men wax worse and worse: the corruptions of their nature gather strength : the vices which they have contract- ed grow into habit ; the evil principle is for ever on the increase, till, having attained the ascendant over the whole man, it subjects him entirely to its own power, the willing and ON I'ROGRESSIVK VJRTUE. 143 obedient servant of sin. Good men, on the other hand, make advances in the p^ths of righteousness. The grace of God, which is given unto them, hes not dormant. The better mind with which they are endowed, incites them to virtue : the new nature which they have put on, pants after perfection. They give all dihgence to add to their faith virtue, and to virtue temperance, and to tem- perance brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness charity, until^ having abounded in every good work, they perfect holiness in the fear of the Lord. Such a life is here called the iiath of the just. By the just in Scripture, are not meant those who merely abstain from doing unjust and injurious things to their neigh- bours. The just man is he who possesses that sincerity of heart, and that integrity of the whole life which God requires of man. The life of such a man is here compared to the light of the morning. Nothing in na- ture is more lovely than the light. When the Spirit began to move upon the face of the deep, light was the first effect of his creating power ; and when the six days' work was finished, light collected and centred in the sun, continued to be the grandest and most beautiful work of nature ; so grand and beau- VOL. 1, K 146 OiV A LIFE oy tiful, that among many of the heathen nations it was worshipped as the visible divinity of the world. What light is to the face of external nature, the beauty of holiness is to the soul. It is the brightest ornament of an immortal spirit ; it throws a glory over all the faculties of man; and forms that robe of beauty with which they shine, who walk in white before the throne of God. But it is chiefly on account of its progres- sive nature, that the path of the just is here compared to the shining light. In order to il- lustrate this, I shall, in ihejirst place, shew you how we shall know if we have made pro- gress in the paths of righteousness. Secondly^ give you some directions how to make further progress. Thirdly ^ exhort you to a life of pro- gressive virtue. I am first, then, to shew how we sliall know if we have made progress in the paths of righ- teousness. In the^r^^ place, Let me ask you, are you sensible of your faults and imperfections ? The first indication of wisdom is to confess our ignorance, and the first step to virtue is to be sensible of our own imperfections. The no- vice iu science is puffed up with his early PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE, 147 discoveries ; when the first ray of wisdom is let in upon his mind, he thinks that by it he can see and know all things : deeper views and maturer reflections convince him how little he knows. In like manner, he knows little of religion, and has been but a short time in the school of Christ, who is blind to his own imperfections. Our fall from inno- cence was by pride, and we must rise by hu- mility " He that humbleth himself shall be " exalted," is the doctrine which our Lord delivered upon all occasions. Till we feel our own weakness, we can never be strong in the Lord ; we never can rise in the Divine sight, till we sink in our ov/n estimation. We often, meet with persons in life, who talk very strangely upon this subject. They tell us that they are as good as ever they expect to be ; that in looking back upon their past life, they see nothing done which they would wish un- done ; and that if they were to begin life anew, they would act precisely as they have acted. Concerning such persons, we may safely pro- nounce that they have made but little pro- gress in the path of the just. They are stran- gers to their own hearts, and have not proper ideas of the Divine law. They measure the law of God by the laws of men, and think that K 2 148 ON A LIFE OF if their external conduct is blameless, they have acted their part well : not considering that the law of God extends to the heart, and punishes for the omissions of duty as well as for the commission of sin. Such errors the Pharisees taught of old ; and such notions of duty Paul had imbibed before his conversion to Christianit}'. " After the straitest sect of " our religion," says he, '^ I lived a Pharisee ; " touching the law, blameless. — I was alive '' without the law once :" That is, v/hen I did not know the law in its true sense, I thought myself alive and a saint. The Pharisaical doctrines in which he had been educated, taught him that God required no more than a conformity of the external behaviour to the letter of the law. But when he discover- ed that the Divine law extended to the heart : when thus in its power, the command- ment came: '' sin revived and I died;" then I saw myself to be a sinner, and died to the self-conceit which I formerly entertained. Secondly^ Let me ask you what is the strength of your attachment to the cause of righteousness? As you are sensible of your faults, and have seen the deformity of sin, are you enamoured with the beauty of holiness ? Do you desire nothing more earnestly than (o niOGUESSIVK VIRTUE. 149 put on the graces of the Gospel, and be con- formed to the image of God? Men will never imitate what they do not love ; if then you are not lovers of o-oodness and virtue, vou ne- ver will be good and virtuous. So long as they keep to generals, men may easily deceive themselves, Let us then come to particulars, and let me ask you with what regard and esti- mation you view those patterns of piety which you see exhibited in life. Are the good and the righteous, to you the excellent ones of the earth ? The wise do not proportion their re- spect to men according to the rank they hold, or the name they bear in the world. It is the character of the just man, as drawn in Scripture, that he scorneth the vile, however exalted, and honoureth them that fear the Lord, however depressed. Do you then scorn the vile man, with all his attributes of rank and wealth and power ? Do you des- pise the rich, the noble, the right honourable villain, and choose for your companion the righteous man, although he has not where to lay his head ? Could you sit down with Virtue in her cell, contented with her homely fare, with her poor abode, and look down with a generous contempt upon the splendid roof, 150 ON A LirK OF where luxury and guilt lead on the festive hours ? When you behold the wicked great in power, and flourishing like a green bay-tree, does your heart revolt from giving him that homaire which the favours of Mammon never ill to extort from the venal multitude, and can you say, in the sincerity of your heart, " I would not exchange the peace of my own " mind for the wealth of the world ? What- *^ ever thou art pleased to give, Father Al- " mighty, may I possess it with honour : The " world approaches to thine altar, and bends *^ before the throne for temporal blessings ; " the prayer of my heart is, Lord*, lift up on me *' the light of thy countenance.''' Thirdly, Let me ask yon, are your resolu- tions as firm, and your application as vigorous now as when you first set out in the spiritual life ? There are times in which all men are serious, — in which the most obdurate minds feel impressions of religion, and in which persons of the most abandoned character form resolutions of amendment. With all the zeal of new converts, they set about a thorough reformation. They wonder how they have been so long blind to their true interest; they mourn over the time that they have lost in vain, or in sinful pursuits, and now seem fully deter- PROCilESSIVE VlflTCE. 151 mined to follow religion as the one thing needful. With many, this course continues not long ; the first new object engages their attention, and turns them aside from the path of the just. But true religion, my friends, does not consist in such fits and starts of de- votion ; in random resolutions made in the fervour of zeal ; in the wavering, desultory, and inconsistent conduct which marks the character of multitudes in the world. He alone is a good man who perseveres in goodness. When the vernal year begins, and the shower of summer descends, all nature bursts into ve- getable life ; the noxious weeds rival the trees among which they grow ; biit these sudden growths as suddenly disappear ; while favour- ed by the influences of heaven, the trees rise to their full stature, and bring forth their fruit in season. Are you then as much in earnest now, as when your first love to God began to brino; forth the fruits of rio;hteousness ? With- out this undiminished ardour ; without these unremitting efforts, you will never run the race set before you, so as to finish your course with joy. At the same time, I must take no- tice, that as you advance in years, all the pas- sions will gradually cool. When, therefore, the fervour of youth has subsided^ and 152 ON A LIFE OF mature age hath given a sober cast to the temper, you will not feel that degree of ar- dour in your devotions which you experienced in your early years. Many serious persons have been alarmed at this appearance, not considering that it was the effect of their constitution, and not a mark of apostacy from God. But your devotion will continue as sincere, though not so inflamed, as before, and religion will be as effectual as ever in the regulation of your life ; like a mighty river, before it terminates its course in the ocean, it rolls with greater calmness, but at the same time with a greater strength, than when it arose from its source. Fourthly^ Another mark of increasing grace, is when you obey the Divine commandments from affection and love. They who, from the fear of hell, put on a form of religion for a time, find it to be a hard and a painful ser- vice. They are out of their place, when they strike into the path of the just ; they consider religion as a heavy burden, which they would not bear but from necessity, and look upon the duties of the Christian life as so many tasks which they have to perform. Whoever entertains such notions of religion, will not rise to high attainments in righteousness. The rnoGUESSiVK viutue. 153 passions and affections are the povvertul springs of action in the soul ; and unless these are put in motion, the machine will move heavily along. He alone will make progress in the path of the just, who is drawn by the cords of love. Pleasant are the labours of love ; and sweet is the precept when the duty pleases. The yoke is easy, and the burden light, when the heart goes along. The Christian is not a slave who obeys from compulsion, or a servant who works for hire ; he is a son who acts from filial affection, and is happiest when he obeys. The love of Christ alone constraineth him. The beauty of holiness allureth him ; though rewards and punishments were set aside, he would follow religion and virtue for their own sake, and do his duty, because therein he found his happiness. Do you then, my friends, feel this affection, this passion for righteous- ness ? Can you say with the Psalmist, " How " do I love thy laws, O Lord ? They are my " meditation all the day. More to be desired " they are than gold, than much fine gold ; " sweeter than honey from the honey-comb." I now come to the second ihing proposed, to give you some directions how to make further progress in the path of the just. 154 ON A LIFE OF In the Jirst place, then, in order to this, make a serious business of a holy hfe. There are many persons in the world who give a sanc- tion to piety by their example, but who feel very little of its power. They think religion an exceedingly decent thing ; they see it pa- tronised by all wise men, and they know it to be necessary for the purposes of society. For these reasons they follow the faith, and con- form to the usages of then- fathers ; they pay a proper respect to the institutions of the Church ; and they attend upon the ordinances of Divine worship with all the marks of exter- nal reverence. So far their conduct is not only decent, but laudable. But if they go no farther than this ; if they confine their sanc- tity to these walls ; if they think that they have done their duty, when they have com- plied with the external ceremonies of the Church, and have adopted this as the easiest and most compendious method of being re- ligious ; the religion of such persons is ra- ther a kind of good manners than real de- votion. The true Christian will not be de- ficient in his attention to the externals of religion : but he will not rest there ; he will attend upon the ordinances of public worship, not because it is the custom of the PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 155 country, but because it is his duty to God ; and he will observe the institutions of Chris- tianity, not from complaisance to established usages, but from a sincere desire of making progress in righteousness. We must make piety more than a matter of form ; we must make a study of a holy life, in order to ad- vance from strength to strength, in the ways of the Lord: it is with religion, my friends, as with the other pursuits of life. In those arts where success depends upon genius and industry, unless a man have an enthusiasm for his own profession, unless he follow it from choice, and prefer it to all others, he will never rise to eminence and fame. In like manner, unless a man have an attachment of the heart to the cause of virtue ; unless he be fervent iii spirit to serve the Lord ; unless he prefer a good conscience to every thing upon earth, he will never obtain that crown of glo- ry which is reserved for the righteous. In his journey through life, the pilgrim may turn a- side to behold a beautiful scene, or enjoy a passing delight ; but he will never forget that his chief object is his journey to the promised land. In order to attain eminence in the arts just mentioned, the candidate devotes his best and 156 ON A LlFi: OF happiest years ; lives laborious days and rest- less nights ; makes a sacrifice of ease, and health, and social joy ', and at last consoles himself by the triianphant prospect of lying down upon the bed of fame, and living to fu- ture ages. If, then, studies of inferior im- portance become such a serious concern ; if the desire of an imaginary immortality has such power over the mind ; will this noblest of studies, the science of being good, have no attractions for the soul ? Will this passion for a real immortality have no power over the heart ? Under the influence of this principle, will not every one who has the faith of a Chris- tian, or the feelings of a man, join with the Apostle? " Yea, doubtless, I count all things " but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge " of Christ Jesus my Lord, — that I may know " him, and the power of his resurrection and " the fellowship of his sufferings, being made " conformable to his death, if by any means " I may attain to the resurrection of the *' dead." Under the influence of these prin- ciples, will not every person who desires to make advances in the path of the just, adopt also the resolution of Job, *' While my breath " is in me, and the Spirit of God is in my *' nostrils, my lips shall not speak wicked- PROGRESSIVE YIIITUE. 157 *' ness, nor my tongue utter deceit ; till I die *' I will not remove mine integrity from me : " my righteousness I hold fast, and will not *' let it go ; my heart shall not reproach me " so long as I live." In the second place, in order to make progress in the path of the just, you must never rest sa- tisfied with any degrees of holiness or virtue which you attain. The law of the spiritual life is to aim at perfection : the intention of Chris- tianity is that w^e may stand perfect and com- plete in all the will of God. " As he who '' hath called you is holy, be ye holy in all " manner of conversation." Absolutely per- fect, indeed, we can never become in this life ; but we must be always aspiring and en- deavouring after perfection. There is no end of your journey till you come to heaven ; there is no place by the way where you are to expect a termination from labour, or a pe- riod of repose. It is not uncommon to hear persons express themselves in terms of great indifference about the higher attainments in sanctity and virtue. They seem to be much afraid of being better than their neighbours ; they have no ambition they say to be saints ; they do not desire to rank among the very best ; and thev would be content with the 158 ON A LIFE OF lowest place in heaven. Happy, beyond all controversy, shall he be, who shall obtain a place, though the lowest, in the heavenly mansions : but for men to mark out to them- selves boundaries in the path of virtue, be- yond which they are resolved not to go ; for men, with impious presumption, to cut out to themselves just such a portion of duty as they think will entitle them to an inestimable reward; this is undervaluing the pearl of great price ; it is sacrificing the riches of the Divine goodness to their own indolence ; it is doing despite to that Spirit of grace which might have been a powerful principle of advancing holiness in the heart. Had he to whom, in the parable, ten talents were given, gained no more than he to whom five were given, can you think that he v/ould have obtained the title, and received the reward of a good and faithful serv^ant? No; but of a slothful and unprofitable one, who had not improved aright the deposite of his Master. What saith the Apostle upon this subject? '' Brethren, I count *' not myself to have apprehended ;" to have already attained perfection ; " but this one *^ thirjg I do ; forgetting the things which are '« behind, and reaching forth unto those things *' which are before, I press toward the mark. PUOGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 159 « for the prize of the high calling of God in " Christ Jesus." " Foro-ettino; the thinsis that are behind,'* saith the apostle. What things had tliis Apostle to forget ? He had to forget his labours in the course of his apostolical functions, his un- wearied zeal, his unremitting industry in dis- charging the trust committed to him ; his pe- rilous journeys and voyages over the greatest part of the known world, to propagate the re- ligion of Jesus ; the many noted persons he converted by his ministry ; the many flourish- ing churches he erected in the course of his travels ; the many famous nations he brought over to the Christian faith ; — he had to forget what of all things the best men pride them- selves most in, the persecutions which he suffered for the sake of the Lord , the impri- sonments which he endured, the wovmds which he received, and the stripes which he bore as a witness of truth, and a preacher of righteous- ness ; — he had to forget that he was not be- hind the very chiefest Apostles ; the many miracles which he wrought ; the frequent re- velations that were made to him ; — he had to forget that, in the vision of God, he had as- cended into the third heaven, and was ad- mitted to scenes, the beauties and the joys of 160 ON A LIFE OF which, eve hath not seen, ear hath not heard, and the heart of man cannot conceive. If, notwithstandincj such a hi oh deo;ree of grace and favour ; if, after a hfe of such extraordi- nary piety ; this apostle forgot the things which were behind, and reaching forth to the things which were before, pressed toward the mark, for the prize of the high calHng of God in Christ Jesus; where is the man who can pretend to say, " I am ah'eady as perfect as I can ever *' expect to be ?". Wiiere is the man who is entitled to set a boundary to himself in the path of righteousness, saying, " Hitherto shall *' I go, but no further ?" In the third place, in order to make pro- gress in the path of the just, be always em- ployed in the improvement of your souls. There is no standing still in the path to hea- ven. Your evil habits, those cords that liold you in captivity to sin, you may not perhaps be able to^cast away at once ; but through the divine grace, you will insensibly weaken, and at last break them asunder. Your inclinations that may have taken a wrong bent, you may counteract, and at last recover to their origi- nal rectitude. Where nature favours a par- ticular exertion, or habit has formed vou to PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. IGl a particular virtue, the one you may cherish, the other you may cultivate ; upon both the fruits of righteousness will grow. Afterwards, be still attending to the culture of the soul, and meditating improvements, by calling forth graces that have not yet made their ap- pearance, and bringing forward to perfection those that have. Thus will your minds re- semble those trees, in which, at one and the same time, we behold some fruits arrived at full maturity ; some half advanced, and others just formed in the opening blossom. By cul- tivating these graces in the soul, you will not only have an earnest, but also an image of heaven. The trees which thus grow up by the rivers of water; which bring forth their fruit in their season, and whose leaves con- tinue ever green, shall be transplanted to happier climes to adorn the paradise of God. In the fourth and last place, in order to make your endeavours effectual, you must abound in prayer to God for the assistance of his holy spirit. " No man becomes good " without the Divine influence. No man can "rise above the infirmities of nature unless " aided by God. He inspires great and noble " purposes. In every good man God resides. " Thestrength which renders a man superior to VOL. r. L 162 ON A LIFE OP *-' all those things vvliich the people cither hope " or dread, descends from him. So lofty a " structure cannot stand unsupported by the " Divinity." These, my friends, are the words of a heathen, and express a doctrine equally agreeable to reason and to revelation. In con- sequence of our corrupted nature, we are un- able of ourselves to produce the virtues and graces of the Divine life. But we are not left without a remedy. In the gospel of Jesus Christ, aids are promised from above, to re- pair the ruins of our nature, and to restore the powers of the soul ; God hath not for- saken the earth : as at the first of days, the Divine Spirit is still moving over the v/orld to produce life. The Lord is ever nigh to them who call upon him in the sincerity of their heart. While we strive against sin, we may safely expect that the Divinity will strive with us, and impart that strength and power which will at last make us more than con- querors. As he who continues in wicked de- vices shall be sure to find Satan standing at his right hand, so he who begins a good life shall find God befriending him with secret aid. He w^ill assist the s})irit that is strug- gling to break loose from the bonds of its cap- tivity : he will aid the flight of the soul that PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 163 is taking wing to the celestial mansions ; he will support our feeble frame under the trials and conflicts to which we are appointed, and lead us on from grace to grace, till we appear in Zion above. " They that wait upon the ^' Lord shall renew their strength ; they shall " mount up as on eagle's wings ; they shall *' run and not be weary ; they shall walk and " not be faint." « I come now to the last thing proposed, to exhort you to a life of progressive virtue. In the first place, then, it is your duty to make progress in the ways of righteousness. In your sanctification, you are enabled more and more to die unto sin, and live unto right- eousness. It is not enough that you continue steadfast and immoveable ; you must also a- bound in the work of the Lord, if you ex- pect your labours to be attended with success. It is not sufficient that you continue in well- doing ; you must also grow in grace, and in- crease with all the increase of God. This pro- gressive nature of righteousness is implied in all the figures and images by which a good life is represented in Sacred Scripture. It is compared to the least of all seeds, which wax- es to a great tree, and spreads out its branches l2 164 ox A TJFE OF branches, and fills the earth. It is compared to the morning light, at first faintly dawning over the mountains, by degrees enlightening the face of the earth, ascending higher and hio'her in the heavens, and shining more and more unto the perfect day. We are said to be here at the school of Christ ; and in order to attain the character of good disciples, we must not only retain what we have acquired, but also add to the acquisitions we have made. The Christian life is represented as a warfare, and in this warfare we shall never gain the victory, unless w^e not only maintain the ground we have got, but also gain upon the foe. It is represented as a race set before us, and in running it we must continually press for- ward, or we shall never gain the prize. Every degree of grace which you receive, and every pitch of virtue to which you attain, is a talent for which you are accountable ; a talent, which if you only retain, but not improve, you will receive the doom of a slothful and wicked servant, and be cast into outer darkness. The Christian life is a life of continued ex- ertion. At every stage in our pilgrimage on earth, new scenes will open ; new situations will present themselves ; and new paths of glory will be struck out. The sphere of action niOGllESSIVE VIUTUE. 1165 varies continually. We have, one while, to support adversity; another while, to adorn pro- sperity; sometimes to approve ourselves to God in soHtude ; at other times, to cause our hght shine before men in society. Different situa- tions in the world, and different periods of life, require the exercise of different virtues. What is accepted from the young soldier will not be excused in the veteran ; what is an " orna- " ment of grace" to the youthful brow, will not be a " crown of glory" to the hoary head. Secondly^ Let me exhort you to this life of progressive virtue, from the pleasing consider- ation that you will be successful in the at- tempt. In the pursuit of human ^honours and rew^ards, the successful candidates are few. In a race many run, but one only gains the prize. But here all who run may obtain. In the career of human glory, time and chance happen unto all, and many are disappointed. '' The race is not alwavs to the swift, nor the *' battle to the strong ; nor riches to men of *' understanding ; nor favour to men of skill." There is a concurrence of circumstances re- quired to raise a man to reputation ; and when these circumstances concur, if the mo- ment of opportunity bo not embraced, the 166 ON A LIFE OF field of glory may be lost for ever. In human life there is a favourable hour which never re- turns, and a call to fame whicli is repeated no more : even in its best estate, men ought to lay their account with disappointment and vexation. What thou hast set thy heart up- on from thy youth ; what has been the aim of all thy labours ; what has been the object of thy whole life, — accident, artifice, ignor- ance, villany, caprice^ may give to another whom thou knowest not. When thy ambi- tion is all on fire : in the utmost ardour of expectation, in the very momeni: when thou stretchest out thy hand to grasp the prize, fortune may snatch it from thy reach for ever. Nay, thou mayst have the mortification to see others rise upon thy ruins, to see thyself made a step to the ambition of thy rival, and thy endeavours rendered the means of advancino; liim to the top of the wheel, while thou con- tinuest low. In the pursuits of ambition or avarice, you may be disappointed ; but if by a progressive state of righteousness, you seek for glory, and honour, and immortality, I, in the name of God, assure you of success. Never was the gate of mercy shut against the true penitent; never was the prayer of the faithful rejected in the tern- rUOGHESSlVK VIRTUE. 1G7 pie of Heaven; never did the incense of a n-ood life ascend without acceptance on high. Liberal and unrestricted is the Divine be- nignity : free to all the fountain flows. There is no angel with a flaming sword to keep you from the tree of life. At this moment of time there is a voice from Heaven calling to you, " Come up hither." And if you are obedient to the call, God assists you with the aids of his Spirit ; he lifts up the hands that hang down ; he strengthens the feeble knees, and perfects his strength in your weakness. You are not left alone to climb the arduous ascent. God is with you, who never suffers the spirit which rests on him to fail ; nor the man who seeks his favour to seek it in vain. Your success in the path of the just will not only be pleasing to yourselves, but also to all around you. In the struggles of human am- bition, the triumph of one arises upon the sor- rows of another ; many are disappointed when one obtains the prize. But in the path of the just, there is emulation without envy, triumph without disappointment. The success of one increases the happiness of all. The influence of such an event is not confined to the earth : it is communicated to all good beings ; it adds to the harmony of the Heavens'; and is the 168 ON A LIFE OF occasion of new hosannahs among the innu- merable company of angels and spirits of just men made perfect, who rejoice over the sin- ner that repenteth. Thirdly^ Let me exhort you to make ad- vances in the path of righteousness, from the beauty and the pleasantness of such a pro- gress. Whatever difficulties may have attend- ed your first entrance upon the path of the just, they will vanish by degrees ; the steep- ness of the mountain will lessen as you ascend; the path in w4uch you have been accustomed to walk will grow more and more beautiful ; and the celestial mansions to which you tend, will brighten with new splendour, the nearer that you approach them. In other afiairs, con- tinued exertion may occasion lassitude and fa- tigue. Labour may be carried to such an ex- cess as to debilitate the body. The pursuits of knowledge may be carried so far as to im- pair the mind ; but neither the organs of the body, nor the faculties of the soul, can be en- dangered by the practice of religion. On the contrary, this practice strengthens the powers of action. Adding virtue to virtue, is adding strength to strength; andthegreater acquisitions we make, we are enabled to make still greater. How pleasant will it be to mark the soul thus PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 169 moving forward in the brightness of its course! In the spring, who does not love to mark the progress of nature ; the flower unfolding into beauty, the fruit coming forward to maturity, the fields advancing to the pride of harvest, and the months revolving into the perfect year? Who does not love in the human species, to observe the progress to maturity ; the infant by degrees growing up to man ; the young idea beginning to shoot, and the embryo character bemnnino; to unfold ? But if these things affect us with delight ; if the prospect of external nature in its progress; if the flower, unfolding into beauty ; if the fruit coming forward to maturity ; if the infant by degrees growing up to man, and the embryo charac- ter beginning to unfold, affect us with plea- surable sensations, how much greater delight will it afford to observe the progress of this new creation, the growth of the soul in the graces of the divine life, good resolutions ri- pening into good actions, good actions lead- ing to confirmed habits of virtue, and the new nature advancing from the first lineaments of virtue to the full beauty of holiness ! These are pleasures that time will not take away. Wliile the animal spirits fail, and the joys which. depend upon the liveliness of the pas- 170 OxV A LIFE OF sions decline with years, the solid comforts of a holy hfe, the delights of virtue and a good conscience, will be a new source of happiness in old age, and have a charm for the end of life. As the stream flows pleasantest when it approaches the ocean ; as the flowers send up their sweet odours at the close of the day ; as the sun appears with greatest beauty in his go- ing down ; so at the end of his career, the virtues and graces of a good man's life come before him with the most blessed remembrance, and impart a joy which he never felt before. Over all the monuments of life, religion scat- ters her favours, but reserves her best, her choicest,her divinest blessings for the last hour. In the last place, Let me exhort you to this progressive state of virtue, from the pleasant consideration that it has no period. There are limits and boundaries set to all human af- fairs. There is an ultimate point in the pro- gress, beyond which they never go, and from which they return in a contrary direction. The flower blossoms but to fade, and all terrestrial glory shines to disappear. Human life has its decline as well as its maturity ; from a certain period the external s*jnses begin to decay, and the faculties of the mind to be impaired, till duL^t returns unto dust. Na- niQGl^ESSlVE VIRTUE. 171 lions have their day. States and kingdoms are mortal like their founders. When they have arrived at the zenith of their glory, from that moment they begin to decline ; the bright day is succeeded by a long night of darkness, ignorance, and barbarity. But, in the pro- gress of the mind to intellectual and moral perfection, there is no period set. Beyond these heavens the perfection and happiness of the just is carrying on ; — is carrying on, but shall never come to a close. God shall be- hold his^ creation for ever beautifying in his eyes ; for eyer drawing nearer to himself, yet still infinitely distant from the fountain of all goodness. There is not in religion a more joyful and triumphant consideration than this perpetual progress which the soul makes to the perfection of its nature, without ever ar- riving at its ultimate period. Here truth has the advantage of fable. No fiction, however bold, presents to us a conception so elevating and astonishing, as this interminable line of heavenly excel lenca To look upon the glo-- rified spirit as going on from strength to strength ; adding virtue to virtue, and know- ledge to knowledge ; making approaches to goodness which is infinite; for ever adorning the Heavens with new beauties, and bri1 ON CHARITY. nobler charity than all the rich had done? The smallest gift may be the greatest bounty* The practice of this duty, therefore, is in- cumbent upon all. To the performance of it you are drawn by that pity and compassion which are implanted in the heart. Compas- sion is the call of our Father in heaven to us his children, to put us upon relieving our bre- thren in distress. This is an affection wisely interwoven in our frame by the Author of our nature, that whereas abstracted reason is too sedentary and remiss a counsellor, we might have a more instant and vigorous pleader in our breasts, to excite us to acts of charity. As far, indeed, as it is ingrafted in us, it is mere instinct ; but when we cultivate and cherish it, till we love mercy, when we dwell upon every tender sentiment that opens our mind, and enlarges our heart, then it becomes a virtue. Whosoever thou art whose heart is hardened and waxed gross, put thyself in the room of some poor unfriended wretch, beset perhaps with a large family, broken with mis- fortunes, and pining with poverty, whilst silent grief preys upon his vitals ; in such a case what wouldst thou think it reasonable thy rich neighbours should do ? That, like the Priest and the Levite, they should look with ("JN CHARITY. 195 art eye of indifTerence, and pass by on the othet side; or, like the good Samaritan, pour balm into thy wounded mind? Be thyself the judge ! and whatever thou thinkest reason- able thy neighbours should do to thee, go thou and do likewise unto them. Consider next the pleasure derived from be- nevolence. Mean and illiberal is the man whose soul the good of himself can entirely engross. True benevolence, extensive as the light of the sun, takes in all mankind. It is not indeed in your power to support all the indi- gent, incurable, and aged ; it is not in your power to train up in the paths of virtue many friendless and fatherless children : but if, as far as the compass of your power reaches, no- thing is deprived of the influence of your bounty, and where your power falls short, you are cordially affected to see good works done by others ; those charities which you could not do, will be placed to your accounts To grasp thus the whole system of reasonable beings, with an overflowing love, is to pos- sess the greatest of all earthly enjoyments, is to make approaches to the happiness of higher natures, and anticipate the joy of the world to come. For it is impossible that the man who, actuated by a principle of obedience tQ 196 ox CHAUITY. his Creator, has cherished each generous and liberal movement of the soul, with a head ever studious to contrive, a heart ever willing to promote, and hands ever ready to distri- bute to tlie good of his fellow-creatures, should notwithstandhig be doomed to be an associate for ever with accursed spirits, in a place where benevolence never shed its kindly beams, but malice and anguish, and blackness of dark- ness, reign for ever and ever. No, the riches which we have given away will abide with us for ever. The same habit of love will accom- pany us to another world. The bud which hath opened here will blow into full expan- sion above, and beautify the paradise in the heavens. SERMON XII. OS THE DANGER OF SMALL TRilNSGllESSlONS. Matthew v. 19. Whosoever^ therefore^ shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven. The Roman Catholics divide sins into two classes, the venial and the mortal. In the first class, they include those slight oflences which, as they say, are too inconsiderable to offend the Deity ; and, in the second, those great and aggravated transgressions which expose men to the Divine vengeance in the world to come. Although this distinction, which over- throws the law of morality, is abjured by all 198 ON THK DANGER OF Protestants, yet something like it is still re- tained by great numbers of men. What the Papists call venial sins, they call sins of infir- mity, human failings, imperfections insepar- able from men. And their own favourite vices, whatever they be, they call by these names. Cruel is the condition of the human kind, say they, and rigorous the spirit of the Christian law, if we are to lie under such terrible restric- tions ; if breaking one of the least command- ments shall exclude us from the kingdom of God, Will the Great Creator be offended by a few trivial transgressions ; with little liber- ties, which serv^e only for amusement? If others take a general toleration, shall we not have an indulgence at particular times ? If we are pro- hibited from turning back in the paths of vir- tue, may we not make a random excursion ? If we are not allowed to taste the fruits, may we not at least crop the blossoms of the forbidden tree? While the waters of pleasure flow so near, and look so tempting, shall we not be permitted to taste and live? Will the Great Judge of the world condemn us to eternal punishment, for the indulgence of a wander- ing inclination, for the gratification of a sud- den appetite, for a look, a word, or a thought ? As this is the apology of vice, which at one SMALL TUANSGUESSIONS. 199 time or another, all of you make to yourselves, I shall now shew you the dangerous nature and fatal tendency of those offences you call little sins. And in entering upon the subject, Christians, I must observe to you, that the at- tempt to join together the joys of religion, and the pleasures of sin, is altogether impracti- cable. The Divine law regulates the enjoy- ments as well as the business of life. You are never to forget one moment that you are Chris- tians. The joys which you are allowed to par- take of, are in the train of virtue. While you are pilgrims in the wilderness, if you return to jEgypt again, you forfeit your title to the pro- inised la^^^ You have left the dominions of sin, you have come into another kingdom ; and if now you revolt to the foe, you are guilty of treason, and may expect to meet with the punishment which treason deserves. How shall we distinguish then, you say, between the sins of infirmity, into which the best may fall, and the violation of those least command-^ ments which exclude from the kingdom of God ? I answer, the text makes the distinc-^ tion. Sins of infirmity proceed from frailty and surprise. The temptation comes upon men unexpected ; the foe meets them un- prepared ; and, in such cases, the most cir* 200 ON THE DANGER OF cumspect must be off their guard, and the best natures may fall. But those sins which exclude from the kingdom of God, are from deliberation and full consent of the mind. The persons who commit them, as the text says, " teach men so ;" that is, they justify themselves in what they do, and sin upon a plan. Their evil intentions are not occasional and transient, but permanent and governing; they sleep and wake upon their bad designs, and carry them along in their going out and coming in ; and thus forming evil habits, make their lives a system of iniquity. Who- ever does so, though it be only in the viola- tion of what he reckons the least command- ment, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven ; that is, shall be excluded altogether from it. It is proposed, at this time, to set before you the evil nature and dangerous tendency of the least transgressions. And, in the first place, it may be observed, that it is a series of little actions that marks the characters of men. Human life is not composed of great events, but of minute occurrences ; and it is not from a man's extraordinary exertions, but from his ordinary conduct, that we form our judgment of his character. When a great SMALL TRANSGIIESSIONS. 201 event is transacting, a man is on his guard ; he is prepared to act his part well, and often, on such occasions, in the hour oF exhibition, he appears to the world a different person from what he really is. But in the series of little actions, in the detail of ordinary life, the turn of mind discovers itself, the temper unfolds, the character appears. It is then, when a man is himself, the mask falls of, and the true countenance is displayed. Human life, then, being a circle of petty transactions, and the temper of menbeing known from their conduct in little affairs, our character for virtue will de- pend on our performance of what the world calls the least of the commandments. This is not peculiar to virtue. What is it that constitutes the happiness of domestic life ? Not the sin- gular and uncommon situations, but the fa- miliar and the ordinary ; not the striking e- vents that fly abroad in the mouths of the people, but the daily round of little things which are never mentioned. A miser may have a feastj and be a miser still ; he only is a happy man who has his enjoyments every day. With very great talents, and without any re- markable vice, a man may become a most dis- agreeable member of society, by his neglect of the attentions and civilities and decorum of 202 ON THE DANGER OF life. In like manner, without being guilty of any enormous sin, by the habitual neglect of inferior duties, and by the practice of little of- fences, a man may sin unto death. A good life is one of those pictures whose perfection arises from the nice and the mi- nute strokes. It is not one blazing star, but the host of lesser lights, which forms the beauty of the heavens. In like manner, how does the Great Judge at the last day decide the fate, and determine the chai'acters, of men ? You reckon sins of omission but little sins, yet, on account of these, the sentence of everlasting condemnation is passed. Be- cause ye gave no bread to the hungry, no wa^ ter to the thirsty, and no raiment to the na- ked, relieved not the oppressed, and visited not the prisoner, therefore, " depart into ever^- " lasting fire, prepared for the devil and his " angels," In like manner, he determines the character of the righteous, not from the striking and splendid virtues which they exhi- bited to the world, but from the performance of the inferior duties of daily life : " Come, " ye blessed of my father, inherit the king- ^^ dom prepared for you from the foundation " of the world." Why ? Is it for the splen- did works of piety, for building temples to SMALL TRANSGllESSIONS. 203 the Deity, or dying as martyrs to the Chris- tian faith ? No. Men may build temples, without love to the Deity ; they may die as martyrs, without real religion ; but because ye have given food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, and raiment to the naked ; actions of life in which ye must have been sincere, be- cause ye never expected that such actions would be heard of, and the practice of them grew so much into habit, that ye scarcely thought it a virtue to perform them. Secondly^ These little sins attack the au- thority of the Divine Legislator as much, or perhaps more, than great sins. Evil thoughts are as expressly prohibited in the Divine law as evil deeds. The same God who says, thou vshalt not kill, says also, thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy heart. What sentiment must you entertain of the Majesty in the Heavens, when his command cannot restrain you from the commission of the least sin ? Hath not God forbidden the impure desire and the malicious intention, as well as adultery and murder ? And is it not as much his will that he should be obeyed in those command- ments as in these ? Have you a dispensation granted j^ou to take the name of God in vtiin 204 ON THE DANGER OF in common conversation, any more than you have to swear falsely before a civil magistrate ? Have you more liberty allowed you to wound your neighbour's character than you have to shed his blood ? No ; the prohibition ex- tends to the one as well as to the other. The same authority that forbids the action, forbids the desire. The same law which says, thou shalt not steal, says also, thou shalt not covet. But you say, that the indulgences you plead for, are with regard to things in their own na- ture indifferent. Alas ! if you had proper ideas of a God possessed of infinite perfec- tion, nothing that he commands or forbids would appear indifferent. To you it may ap- pear a matter of little moment or concern, what the strain of your thouo;hts is, or how the tenor of your conversation runs ; but when you learn that your thoughts are known in lieaven, and that by your words you shall be justified or condemned, these assume a more serious form, and become of infinite impor- tance. But if the things for which you beg an indulgence are in their own nature small, why do you not abstain from them ? If the prophet had commanded you a great thing, you might have murmured against the pre- cept ', but when he only enjoins what you SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. 205 yourselves reckon a little thing, what pre- tence have you for a complaint ? In place of being an excuse, this is an aggravation of your offence. With your own mouth you condemn yourself. Can there be a stronger proof of a degenerate nature and a stub- born mind, than this inclination to disobey your Creator, in things that you reckon of little consequence ? What can shew a heart hardened against God, and set against the Heavens, so much as this refractory and re- bellions disposition, which leads men to violate the majesty of the law, to insult the authori- ty of the Lawgiver, to risk the vengeance of the Omnipotent, and to pour contempt on all the perfections of the Divine nature, ra- ther llian part wqth what they themselves reckon small and inconsiderable. In the third place. You may contract as much guilt by breaking the least of the com- mandments, as by breaking the greatest of them. You start back and are affrighted at the approach of great iniquity ; the heart re- volts iVom a temptation to flagrant sins ; yet thousands of lesser sins, evil thoughts, malici- ous words, petty oaths, commodious lies, little deceits, you make no scruple to commit every 206 Oi4 THE DANGER OF day. But the guilt of such reiterated sins i^ as great, or greater, than that of any single sin. To hate your neighbour in your heart without cause, to take every opportunity of blasting his character, and defeating his de- signs, makes you as guilty in the Divine eye, as if you had imbrued your hands in his blood. To use false weights, and a deceitful balance, is as criminal as a direct act of theft. He who defrauds his neighbours daily in the course of his business, is a greater sinner be- fore God, and a worse member of society^ than he who once in his life robs on the high- way. The frequency of these little sins makes the guilt great, and the danger extreme. The constant operation of evil deeds impairs the strength of the soul, and shakes the founda- tion on which virtue rests. Wave succeed- ino- wave undermines the whole fabric of vir- tue, and makes the building of God to fall. The thorns, which at first could scarcely be seen, spread by degrees over the field, and choke the good seed. The locusts which Moses brought over the land of Egypt, ap- peared at first a contemptible multitude ; but in a little time like a cloud they darkened the air ; as a mighty army, they covered the face of the earth : thev devoured the herb of the I SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. 207 field, the fruit of the tree, and every green thing, and turned what was formerly like the garden of Eden into a desolate wilderness. Thus these little sins increase as thev advance; they blast where they enter ; by degrees they make the spiritual life decay; they lay waste the new creation, and turn the intellectual world into a chaos, without form, and void of order. And yet we are not on our guard against them. It fareth with us as it did with the Israelites of old. We tremble more at one Goliah than at the whole army of the Philistines. One gross scandalous sin makes us recoil and start back ; and yet we venture on the guilt of numberless smaller sins, with- out hesitation or remorse. What signifies it whether you die of many small wounds, or by one great wound ! What great difference does it make, whether the devouring fire and the everlasting burnings are kindled by many sparks, or by one fire-brand? When God shall reckon up against you at the great day the many thousand malicious thoughts, slan- derous words, deceits, oaths, imprecations, lies, that you have been guilty of, the account will be as dreadful, and the wrath as insup- portable, as if atrocious crimes had stood upon the list. 208 ox THE DAXGER OF In the fourth place, These little offences make life a chain and a continuation of sins, so that conversion becomes almost impos- sible. Often, upon the commission of a gross sin, a sober interval succeeds ; serious reflec- tion has its hour ; sorrow and contrition of heart take their turn ; then is the crisis of a man's character; and many, improving this favourable opportunity, have risen greater from their fall. Bat if these little sins then come in ; if betvvTcen the commission of one gross sin and another, there intervenes a constant neglect of God, a hardness of heart, a vanity of imagination, and unfrui [fulness of life, you still add to the number of your sins, and trea- sure up to yourselves wrath against the day of wrath. Such little sins fill up all the void spaces ; so that, by this means, life becomes an uninterrupted and unbroken chain of ini- quity. Thus you render yourselves incapable of reformation, and put yourselves out of the power of Divine grace. How is it possible that you can ever come v/ithin the reach of mercy ? How can the voice of God reach your heart ? He speaks to you in the majestic si- lence of his works ; but you reckon it no sin at all to shut your ears against the voice which comes from heaven to earth, and reaches from SMALL TRANSGRESSIOXS. 209 one end of the world to the other. Pie speaks to you by the voice of his providence ; but you reckon it of Httle moment to regard the doings of the Lord. He speaks to you in the Holy Scriptures ; but you reckon the precept to read these one of the least commandments. He speaks to you in the ordinances of his own institution ; but alas ! how many hold it a little sin to absent themselves from these altogether ! And how many of those who attend, think it but a little sin to spend their time as unpro- fitably as if absent ! He speaks to you with the still small voice ; his Spirit whispers to your spirit ; he seeks to enter in by your thoughts : but vanity, and folly, and vice, swarms of little sins, stop up the passage. Thus every corner of life is filled up. Every avenue to the heart is shut. You nowhere lie open to the im- pression of Divine grace, and the soul is so full, that there is no room for the Holy Spirit to enter. In the last place, These lesser sins infal- libly lead to greater. There is a fatal pro- gress in vice. One sin naturally leads to an- other : the first step leads to the second, till by degrees, you come to the bottom of the precipice. Deceit, duplicity, dissimulation, VOL. I. 0 210 ON THE DANGER OP in different matters, which many persons, wha maintain what is called a decent character, make no scruple to employ, have a tendency to render you insincere on more important occasions, and may gradually destroy your character of integrity altogether. He who tells falsehoods for his own conveniency, will, in the natural course of things, become a com- mon liar. The spirit of gaming perhaps you reckon a small sin. When gaming is only an amuse- ment, it is innocent ; but whenever it goes farther, whenever it is made a serious busi- ness, and the love of it becomes a passion, farewell to tranquillity and virtue ; then suc- ceed days of vanity, and nights of care ; dis- sipation of life, corruption of manners, inat- tention to domestic affairs, arts of deceit, lying, cursing, and perjury. At a distance Poverty, with Contempt at her heels, and in the rear of all. Despair, bringing a halter in her hand. Thus have I set before you the evil nature and the dangerous tendency of the least transgressions. And do you ask an indul- gence in little sins, when you see how fatal they are? Do you still ask to make an excur- sion from the path of virtue ? Such an cxcur- .^MALL tRANSGRESSiOKS. 211 sion if you make, you will fall in with the road to perdition. Do you still wish to taste the waters which unlawful pleasure presents to your eye? Taste them you may; but be assured that there is poison in the stream^ and death in the cup. Alas ! if we calmly in- dulge ourselves in the cool commission of the least sin, who knows xt^hen and where we shall stop ? If once we yield to the tempta- tion, in whose power is it to say. Hitherto shall I go, but no further ? Many persons at their first setting out, would have trembled at the very thought of these sins, which in time, and by an easy transition, they have been brought to commit with boldness. The trai- tor consigned to eternal inftmy, Judas Isca- riot, who betrayed the Lord of glory, had at first only his covetousness to answer for* Fly, therefore, I beseech you, fly from the first approaches of sin. Guard your inno- cence, as you v^ould guard your life. If you advance one step over the line which sepa- rates the way of life from the way of death, down you sink to the bottomless abyss. Come not then near the territories of perdition. Stand back and survey the torrent which is now so mighty and overflowing, that it de- o2 212 ON THE DANGER OF SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. luges the land, and you will find it to proceed from a small contemptible brook. Examine the conflagration that has laid a city in ashes, and you will find it to arise from a single spark. SERMON XIII. ON DELIVERANCE FROM REMORSE, Hebrews xii. 24. — The blood of sprinklings which speaheth betler things than that of Abel. Reason and philosophy have applied their powers to external objects with wonderful suc- cess. They have traced the order of nature, and explained the elements of things. By observation and experience, they have ascer- tained the laws of the universe ; they have counted the number of the stars ; and, follow* ing the footsteps of the Almighty, have dis- covered some of the great lines of that origi- nal plan according to which he created the world. Bui when thoy approach the region of 214 ON DELIVKIJANCE spirit and intelligence, they stop short Ip their discoveries. The mind eludes its own search. The Author af our nature has checked our ca- reer in such studies, to teach us that action and moral improvement, not speculationandinquiry, are the ends of our being. Accordingly, the mo- ral part of our frame is the easiest understood. Having been placed here by Providence, for great and noble purposes, virtue is the law of our nature. This being the great rule in the moral world, God has enforced it in various w^ays. He hath endowed us with a sense or faculty which, viewing actions in themselves, without regard to their consequences, approves or disapproves them. He hath endowed us with another sense, which passes sentence upon actions according to their consequences in society. He hath given us a third, which, removing human actions from life, and the v/orld altogether, carries them to a higher tribunal. The first, which is the ?7ioral sensc^ belongs to us as individuals ; is instinctive in all its operations ; approves qf virtue as be- ing moral beauty; and disapproves of vice as being moral deformity. The second, which is the sense of utility, belongs to us as mem» bers of society^ is directed in its operations by leason.o and passes sentence upon actions ac-: FROM PvEMOllSE. 215 according as they are favourable or pernicious to the public good. The third, which is con- science, belongs to us as subjects of the Divine government, is directed in its operations by the word of God, and considers human ac- tions as connected with a future state of re- wards and punishments. It is this which properly belongs to religion. Upon this fa- culty of conscience, the happiness or misery of mankind in a great measure depends. A good conscience is a continual feast, and proves a spring of joy amidst the greatest distresses. A conscience troubled with remorse, or haunt- ed with fear, is the greatest of all human evils. Accordingly, the Christian religion, which adapts itself to every state of our nature, and carries consolation to the mind in every dis- tress, has presented to the weary and heavy laden sinner, « the blood of sprinkling, which " speaketh better things than the blood of " Abel." The meaning of v/hich expression is this: As the blood of Abel, crying to Heaven for vengeance, filled the mind of Cain with horror, and as every sin is attended with remorse ; so the blood of Jesus is of power to deliver the mind from this remorse, and re- store peace of conscience to the true penitent. In further treating upon this subject, I shall 216 ON DELIVERANCE describe to you the nature of that remorse which is the companion of a guilty mind ; and next, the dehverance which the Gospel gives us from it, by means of " the blood of sprink- " ling." In the Jirst place, then, let us consi- der the nature of that remorse which is the companion of a guilty mind* Almighty God having created man after his own image, intended him for moral excellence and perfection. Hence all his passions were originally set on the side of virtue, and all his faculties tended to heaven. Conscience is still the least corrupted of all the powers of the soul. It keeps a faithful register of our deeds, and passes impartial sentence upon them. It is appointed j the judge of human life ; is invested with authority and dominion over the whole man, and is armed with stings to punish the guilty. These are the sanctions and enforcements of that eternal law to which we are subjected. For even in our present fallen state, we are so framed by the Author of our nature, that moral evil can no more be committed than natural evil can be suffered, without anguish and disquiet. As pain fol- lows the infliction of a wound, as certainh'^ doth remorse attend the commission of sin. FROM REMORSE. 217 Conscience may be lulled asleep for a while, but it will one day vindicate its rights. It will seize the sinner in an hour when he is not aware ; will blast him perhaps in the midst of his mirth, and put him to the torture of an accusing mind. For the truth of this obser- vation, let me appeal to your own experience. Did you ever indulge a criminal passion ; did you ever allow yourselves in any practice which you knew to be unlawful, without feeling an inward struggle and strong reluctance of mind before the attempt, and bitter pangs of re- morse after the commission ? Though no eye saw what you did ; though you were sure that no mortal could discover it, did not shame and confusion secretly lay hold of you ? Was not your own conscience instead of a thousand witnesses ? Did it not plead with you, face to face, and upbraid you for your transgressions ? Have not some of you perhaps, at this instant, a sensible experience of the truths which lam now pressing upon you ? In these days of re- tirement and self-examination, did you not feel the operation of that powerful principle ? Did not your sins then rise up before you in sad remembrance? Has not the image of them pursued you into the house of God? And are not your mind^ now stung with some of 218 ON DELIVE14ANCE that regret which followed upon the first com- mission ? My brethren, there is no escaping from a guilty mind. You can avoid some evils, by mingling in society; you can avoid others, by retiring into solitude ; but this enemy, this tormentor within, is never to be avoided. If thou retirest into solitude, it will meet thee there, and haunt thee like a ghost. If thou goest into society, it will go with thee ; it will mar the entertainment, and dash the untasted cup from thy trembling hand. Whilst the sinner indulges his vain imagination ; whilst he solaces himself with the prospect of pleasures rising upon plea- sures never to have an end, and says to his soul, Be of good cheer, thou hast happiness laid up'for many years, — a voice comes to his heart that strikes him with sudden fear, and turns the vision of joy into a scene of horror. Whilst the proud and impious Balshazzar en- joys the feast with his princes, his concubines, and his wives ; whilst he carouses in the con- secrated vessels of the sanctuary ; in a mo- ment the scene changes ; the hand-writing on the wall turns the house of mirth into a house of mourning ; the countenance of the king fhangcs, and his knees smite one against ano- i'UOM RExMORSE, 219 llier, whilst the Prophet, in awful accents, pronounces his dooni ; pronounces that his hour is come, and tliat his kingdom is departed from him. It is in adversity that the pangs of con^ science are most severely felt. When afliic- tion humbles the native pride of the heart, and gives a man leisure to reflect upon his former ways, his past hfe rises up to view : having now no interest in the sins which he committed, they appear in all their native de- formity, and fill his mind with anguish and remorse. Men date their misfortunes from their faults, and acknowledge their sin when they meet with the punishment. The sons of Jacob felt no remorse when they sold their brother to be a slave; they had delivered themselves from the foolish fear that he was one day to be greater than they ; they con- gratulated themselves upon the mighty deli- verance. But the very first misfortune which bcfel them, a little rough usage in a foreign land, awakened their guilty fears, and they said one to another, " We are very guilty " concerning our brother, in that we saw ^' the anguish of his soul when he besought " us, and we would not hear, therefore is thi^ ' distress come upon us," 220 ON DELIVEKAXCE But that the prosperous sinner may not presume upon impunity from the lashes of a guilty mind, and to shew you that no situa- tion, however exempted from adversity, and that no station, however exalted, is proof ao-ainst the horrors of remorse, I shall adduce two remarkable instances of persons who felt all the horrors of a guilty mind, without meet- ing with any judgments to awaken them. The first is that of Cain, referred to in the text When the offering of Abel ascended acceptable and well-pleasing to God, Cain was seized with envy ; from that moment he meditated vengeance against him, and at last imbrued his hands in the blood of his brother. There was then no law against murder : and if antecedent to law there is no original sense of right and wrong implanted in the mind ; if conscience, as some affirm, was not a na- tural but an acquired power, the mind of Cain might have been at ease ; he might have en- joyed the calm and the serenity of innocence. But when he was brought to the tribunal of conscience, was his mind at ease ? Did he en- joy the calm and the serenity of innocence ? No. He cried out in the bitterness of re- morse, " My punishment is greater than I can bear," "V\liat piinislimcut did he complain FROM REMORSE. 221 of? There was then no punishment denoun- ced against murder, and the Lord expressly secured him from corporal punishment. But he had that within, to which all external pu- nishments are light: He was extended on the rack of reflection, and he lay upon the tor- ture of the mind. Hell was kindled within him, and he felt the first knawings of the worm that never dies. Another remarkable instance of the domi- nion of conscience, we have in the history of Herod. John the Baptist, the harbinger of our Lord, sojourned a while in the court of Herod. This faithful monitor spared not sin in the person of a king, but reproved him openly for his vices. Herod, although he dis- liked, yet he respected the prophet, and fear- ed the multitude, who believed in his doc- trines. But on Herod's birth-day, when the daughter of Herodias danced before him, he made a sudden vow, that he would grant her whatever she desired. Being instructed of her mother, she asked the head of John the Baptist. One of the common arts by which we deceive our consciences is to set one duty against another. Hence sin is generally com- mitted under the appearance of some virtue, and hcncQ the greatest crimes which have ever ^22 O^^ BFLTVFPAXCE troubled the world have been committed under the name, and under the shew of religion. Such was the crime which we are now considering. The observance of an oath has, among all na- tions, been regarded as a religious act; and here a fair opportunity offered itself to one who only waited for such an opportunity, to make religion triumph at the expense of virtue. If Herod had no inclination to destroy the Pro- phet, and no interest in his death, his con- science would have told him that murder was an atrocious crime, which no consideration could alleviate, nor excuse ; it would have told him that vows, which it is unlawful to make, it is also unlawful to keep : but Herod was already a party in the cause; he determined to get quit of his enemy; he satisfied his con- science with some vain pretences, and gave orders to behead the Baptist. But were all his anxieties and sorrows buried with the rro])iiet ? No : the grave of the Prophet was the grave of his peace. Neither the splend- our of Majesty, nor the guards of state, nor the noise of battle, nor the shouts of victory, could drown the alarms of conscience. That mangled form was ever present to his eyes ; the cry of blood was ever in his ears. Hence, when our Saviour appeared in a public charac- TROM REMORSE. 22r5 ter, and began to teach and to work miracles, Herod cried out, in the horrors of a guilty mind, " It is John the Baptist whom I slew ; " he is risen from the dead." How great, my brethren, is the power and dominion of conscience ! The Almighty ap- pointed it his vicegerent in the world ; he in- vested it with his own authority, and said, " Be thou a God unto man." Hence it has power over the course of time. It can recall tlie past; it can anticipate the future. It reaches beyond the limits of this globe; it visits the chambers of the grave ; it reanimates the bodies of the dead ; exerts a dominiou over the invisible regions, and summons the inhabitants of the eternal world to haunt the slumbers, and sliake the hearts of the wicked. Tremble then, O man ! whosoever thou art, who art conscious to thyself of unrepented sins. Peace of mind thou shalt never enjoy. Repose, like a false friend, shall fly from thee. Thou shalt be driven from the presence of the Lord like Adam when he sinned, and be ter- rified when thou hearest his voice, as awful when it comes from within, as when it came from without. The spirit of a man may sus- tain his infirmity ; but a spirit wounded by remorse who can bear ? 224 ON DELIVERANCE The second thing proposed, was, to shew you the deliverance which the Gospel gives us from remorse, by means of the *^ blood of ^' sprinkling," This expression alludes to the ceremonial method of expiating sin under the Old Testament, by offering sacrifices, and sprinkling the blood of the victim upon the altar. But, as this was in itself only typical of Christ, how welcome to the soul is the glad tidings of the Messiah, who did, what these sacrifices could not do, — actually save his people from their sins ! By the atonement and blood of Christ, the sins of men have been completely expiated. It is the voice of the gospel of peace, " take, eat, and live " for ever." What relief will it give to the wounded mind, to hear of the Blood of sprinkling, which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel ! The gospel being publish- ed to the world, and the offers of mercy through a redeemer being made to all men, the sincere penitent accepts these offers, and Hies for refuge to the hope set before him. Then Jesus saves his people from their sins ; he heals the mind which was wovmded by re- morse, and bestows that peace which the world cannot give, and cannot take away. There is joy in heaven? we arc told, over a FROM REMOHSE. 225 sinner that repenteth, and the joy of the hea- vensis communicated to thereturningpenitent. When he beholds God reconciled to him in the face of his Son ; when he hears, in secret, the blessed Jesus whispering in sweet strains to his heart, « Son, be of good cheer, thy sins '' are forgiven thee," he is filled with peace and with joy ; with peace which passeth all under- standing; with joy which is unspeakable and glorious. His sins being forgiven, he is accepted in the Beloved. He is an heir of immortalitj^, and his name is written in heaven ; to him is opened the fountain of life. He has a title to all the pleasures which are at God's right hand ; to the treasures of heaven, and to the joys of eternity. He looks forward, with awell ground- ed hope, to that happy day, when he shall take possession of the inheritance on high ; he anticipates the delights of the world to come; and breaks forth into strains of exul- tation, similar to those transports of assurance uttered by the Apostle, ^' Who shall lay any "thing to the charge of God's elect? It is '' God that justifieth ; who is he that con- '' demneth? It is Christ that died, yea, rather " that is risen again, and who now sitteth and « interccdeth for us at God's right hand," VOL. X. p SERMON XIV. ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. Mark viii. 36. For what shall it profit a 7na?ij if he shall gain the whole worlds and lose his own soul"? There is not a person in this assembly, but who assents immediately to the truth of the maxim implied in the text. You all agree, that religion is the one thing needful, and that above all things you ought to seek the kingdom of God, and the righteousness there- of. But there is a wide difference between the assent of the mind to the truth of this principle, and that deep conviction of its im- portance, which, in Scripture, obtains the name of faith J sufficient to influence the heart, and OK THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 227 to determine the life. A great part of man- kind seem to have no steady belief that they are endowed with souls which are immortal : an eternity to come is with them merely a matter of speculation, and their faith in a fu- ture world has little more influence upon their lives, than their idea of a distant country, which they are never to see. Plence spiritual and eternal things are heard with little emo- tion or concern, while they are delivered in the house of God. Some can give themselves lip to listlessness ; and others soon lose all re- membrance of what they have heard, in the next amusement, or in the news of the day. Even he who spoke as never man spake, and while he discoursed on points of such impor- tance as the loss of the soul, had occasion of- ten to take up the complaint, that in vain he stretched out his hands all day long to a dis- obedient people. To call your contemplation, then, to these subjects, for they need no more but to be con- sidered aright, in order to be felt, I shall en- deavour to shew you the value of the soul, from its native dignity, from its capacity of improvement, from its immortality, and from its unalterable state at death, i> 2 228 ON THt VALUE OF THE SOUL. Let us consider, then, in the Jirst place, the native importance and dignity of the human soul. It is tlie mind chiefly that is the man. Our souls properly are ourselves. The bodily organs are the ministers of the mind ; by these it sees and hears, and holds a cor- respondence with external things. It is by our souls that we hold our station in the scale of being ; that we rank above the animal world, and claim alliance with superior and immortal natures. As the soul is superior to the body, so intellectual pleasures exceed the sensual ; as heaven is higher than the earth, so the joys of a heavenly origin are superior to earthly enjoyments. I mean not, in the common way, to depreciate temporal posses- sions, as being insignificant in themselves, and unworthy the cares or labours of a wise man. Such discourse is mere declamation ; it is against nature, contrary to truth, and makes no impression at all. Let all the value be set upon wealth and temporal possessions which they deserve, as affording a defence from many evils to which poverty is liable ; as ministering to the convenience, the con- solation, and the enjoyment of life ; as sup- porting a station with decency and dignity in the world ; and as accompanied with an im- ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 229 portance, by which a good man may find much pleasure arising to himself, and have the power of doing much good to his fellow creatures ; let all the value which reason al- lows be set upon temporal acquisitions and enjoyments, still they are inferior to those of an intellectual and moral kind ; still the maxim remains true, that he would be an infinite loser who should gain the whole world and lose his own soul. " Thou hast put more " gladness into my heart," saith the Psalmist, ^' than worldly men know, when their corn, " and their wine, and their oil abound," And do uot your own feelings and experience bear witness to this truth ? Who will not acknow- ledge that there is more excellence in wisdom than in mere animal strength ? Who will not own that there is more happiness in the im- proving conversation of the wise, than in the tumultuous uproar of the debauched and li- centious ? Are the rays of light as pleasant to the eye as the radiations of truth to the mind ? Have sensual gratifications a charm for the soul, equal to intellectual and moral joys ? While the former soon pall upon the appetite, are not the latter a perpetual feast ? While the remembrance of the one is attend- ed with no pleasure, is not the remembrance of the other a repetition of the enjoyment ? 230 ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. Btit great as the dignity of the human soul is, it may be still greater ; for, in the second place, it possesses a capacity of improvement. This constitutes one essential difference be- tween the intellectual and the material world. All material things soon reach the end of their progress, and arrive at a point beyond which they cannot go. Instinct grows apace, and the animal is soon complete in all its facul- ties and powers. Man ripens more slowly, because he ripens for immortality. Those en- joyments and pursuits of man also, which do not belong to him as an immortal being, come soon to their period. Amusement, when con- tinued long, becomes a fatigue. In pleasure there is a point, beyond which, if it be carried, it is pleasure no more, it turns into pain. The pursuits of greatness too are very limited, and the race of honour is soon run. After many a weary step, the votary of ambition finds that he has been running in a circle, and that he is come to the selt-same point from which he set out. Mind, mind alone, contains in it« self the principle of progression and improve- ment without end. There is no ultimate power in the progress of man : there is no termination to the career of an immortal spi- rit. The dominions of earthly greatness are ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 231 circumscribed within narrow limits, and the hero has often wished for new countries to conquer : but the empire of the mind has no limit nor boundary ; and we can never arrive at that period, when we may say, Hitherto can we go, but no farther. Never have we learned so much, but we may learn more. Suppose life never so long, if the powers re- main, new paths to science may be struck out, fresh accessions of knowledge may be made. And we know from experience, that the largest measure of knowledge proves no burden to the mind, nor weakens its powers ; but that, on the contrary, the capacity enlarges with the acquisition, and that men, the more they have learned, the more apt they are to learn ; the less is their labour, and the easier their progress. Improvements in goodness keep pace with improvements in wisdom. Repeated acts of obedience grow into habit ; the penitent is confirmed in righteousness, and he that is holy becomes holier still. From the fulness which is in God, he adds grace to grace. The day of small things shineth more and more, and that day is succeeded by no night The pil- grims, who at first set out feeble and faint, grow vigorous as they advance, goii^g forward 232 ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. from strength to strength; ascending from one degree of goodness to another, they ap- proach the everlasting hills, and coming with- in the sphere of heaven, they inhale the spirit of their native region ; they feel the attrac- tions of the uncreated beauty ; they receive a foretaste of the fruits of life, and, with hearts already full of heaven, and with tongues al- ready tuned to the songs above, they put on the brightness of angels, and enter into the mansions of paradise. In the third place. The value of the soul will farther appear, if we consider that it is immor- tal. All human things soon come to an end. Temporal possessions, and earthly greatness, have a short date. The world itself is for ever changing ; the fashion thereof passes away, and he who knows it in one age, in the next would not know it again. How short-lived are the enjoyments of this mortal state ! Although the flowers of transient joy, more hardy than the gourd of Jonah, may outlive the heat of the morning, and glow amid the blaze of noon, yet when the blast of evening comes, they are nipt and wither away. Ambition too has its day, and often a short one. Its votaries seem to be raised^ but the more sensibly to feel their ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 233 falL The same whirlwind that snatches them up from the crowd, brings them down at even with tenfold fury. Not to mention these more violent revolutions, -its natural period soon comes. He who runs the race of human glory, is lost in the very dust that is raised around him. And such is the sudden end of all ter- restrial enjoyments, when, after the study and the labour of years, we have with much pains and care gathered together the requisites and materials of a happy life, and say to ourselves, ^' Soul, take thine ease, thou hast goods laid up " for many years," the warning voice is heard, " Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be re- " quired of thee." So transient is the date, so short the day of power, and pleasure, and great- ness.! But wisdom never dies ; but virtue is im- mortal. We have a higher life than that which beats in the pulse, and when the dust returns to the dust as it was, the spirit returns to God who gave it. It is indeed an awful, though a pleasing thought, that we have an eternity be- fore us. When the sun shall be extinguished in eternal darkness ; when the heavens shall be rolled together like a scroll ; when the earth, with all its works, shall be dissolved, the soul shall survive the general wreck, and exult in the enjoyment of youth immortal ! To think 234 ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. of an infinity of years of existence, enduring beyond all the numbers which we can add to- gether, beyond all the millions of ages which figures can comprehend, and that, when all this vast sum of duration is expended, our exist- ence is but just beginning, is, indeed, beyond imagination to grasp. Never to come to an end, never to be nearer an end, is indeed amaz- ing, overwhelfning, and incomprehensible to the mind. But such is thine inheritance, O man ! " Because I live," saith the Lord, " ye " shall live also." Our duration shall be co- eval with His years who sits upon the Throne for ever ; the Ancient of days, who is, and was, and is to come. In the last place, To shew you the value of the soul still more, after death its state is un- alterable. This is our state of probation, and now is the time to fix the character for eter- nity. This is the spring-time of everlasting life ; according as we now sow, hereafter we shall reap ; on our present conduct depends our happiness or misery for ever. There is neither repentance nor apostacy beyond the grave. The righteous can never fall away, and to the wicked there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin. From the judgment-seat of ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 235 the Immutable, the voice is heard, " He that *< is righteous, let him be righteous still : and " he that is unjust, let him be unjust still." But even here, too, appears that goodness of God which is over all his works. For while we know not of any addition to the torments of the wicked, the happiness of the righteous shall be for ever on the increase. That ca- pacity of improvement which we formerly ascribed to the soul, is a capacity of improve- ment without end. The progress which begins here is carried on hereafter. Heaven is indeed the residence of the spirits of just men made perfect ; but it is not to be imagined, that they are all at once advanced to a perfection which they shall not to eternity exceed. They will indeed find their state happy, when they are taken from this world ; they will all be pre- sented without spot or blemish in the presence of God with exceeding joy ; but still there is room left for their improvement in perfection and happiness. It cannot, indeed, be other- wise. For the more we know of the Divine perfections and works, our veneration and love of God will increase the more. Now, it is impossible that we can ever know so much of God and his works, but that we may know more. As our knowledge of God, therefore, 236 ON THE VALUE 01- THE SOUL, and our views of the Divine glory, will be en- larged without end, our love and admiration of him will also increase for ever. And in proportion to our love, our assimilation to the Divine nature, and our joy in the Lord, will ba What a prospect, O Christian, does this open up to thy mind ! Here thou art at liberty to expatiate at large ! Here is a noble field for thy contemplation ! There is a time ap- pointed when thou shalt occupy that station which is now occupied by the highest angel in heaven. Not that we shall overtake the angels in their course, or, in the career of im- mortality, press upon natures of a superior order ; but that we shall make advances in moral perfections, and improve in the beauties of immortality. God shall behold his great family for ever brightening in holiness : for ever drawing nearer and nearer in likeness to himself. The river of their pleasures increases as it rolls. The fulness of their joy grows more and more full. Throudiout all the a^es of eternity, there is still a heaven which is to come ; still a glory which is to be revealed. If the soul, then,be of such infinitevalue,how inexpressibly great must the loss of it be ! Over the mansions of utter darkness, the Scrip- tures draw a veil which does not authorise our ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 237 conjectures. What is comprehended under these awful emblems—The worm that never dies— The fire that is not quenched— Everlast- ing destruction from the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his power,— we do not know. May the Almighty forbid that any of us should ever know ! But of this, the Scriptures assure us, that from these mansions there is no re- turn ; that the gates of the eternal world shut to open no more, and that when the soul is once lost, it is lost for ever and for ever ! SERMON XV. ON THE CELEBRATION OF THE LORD's SUPPER. Psalm xliii. 4. / will go unto the altar of God, imto God my exceeding joy. Christians, as we are next Lord's day to go to the altar, and approach unto God, it may be proper for me now to explain the nature, and set before you the advantages of such an approach. The pleasures of devotion have been the theme of good men in all ages ; and they are pleasures of such a kind as good men only can feel. In what I am now to say, therefore, I must appeal to the heart, to the hearts of those who, in times past, have felt the joy of spiritual communion, and who will again feel ON THE lord's surrER. 239 that it is good still for them to draw nigh unto God. This is the time when Jesus prepares a banquet for his friends ; when the Spirit saith, Come ; when the church saith, Come ; when he that is athirst is invited to come; and happy will it be when the friends of Jesus prepare to meet with their Lord, if those who have hitherto been strangers to the holy hill, shall be attracted with the beauty which is in true holiness, also to come, and to take the waters of life freely. For thus runs the gra- cious promise of Heaven : " The strangers *' who join themselves to the Lord, to love " him and to serve him, even them will I " bring to my holy mountain, and make them ^' joyful in my house of prayer." Li further treating on this subject, what I intend at pre- sent is, in the Jlrst place, to explain the na- ture of that approach which the devout make to God ; and in the second place, set before you the advantages which accompany such an approach. I am, in the Jirst place, then, to explain the nature of that approach which the devout make to God. This earth is not the native region of that 940 ON THE CELEBRATION OF spirit which is in man. It finds not objects here congenial with its nature, nor a sphere adequate to its faculties. It wants room to expand to its full dimensions ; to spread so wide, and stretch so far, and soar so higii, as its immortal nature and unbounded capacity will 'admit. Descended from heaven, it as- pires to heaven again. Created immortal, nothing that is mortal can satisfy its desires. Made after the image of God, it tends to that God whose lineaments it still bears. When we approach to God, therefore, we find objects suited to our nature, and engaged in the em- ployment for which the soul was made. Here we are atjliome in our Father's house. Here our spirits aspire to hold communion with the everlasting Spirit ; and we tend to heaven with exceeding joy, as to our native country. The sense of Deity is akin to the percep- tion of beauty, and the sensibility of taste. We are formed by the author of our nature to feel certain movements of mind at the sight of certain objects. Even inanimate things are not without their attractions. The flowers of the field have their beauty. Animal life rises in our regard. Rational excellence, and moral perfection, rank still higher in our es- teem, and when expressed in action, and ap- THE lord's supper. 341 pearing in life, awake emotions of the no- blest kind, and beget a pleasure which is su- preme. Let any person of a right constitut- ed mind, place before his view a character of high eminence for generosity, fidelity, forti- tude ; let him see these virtues tried to the utmost, exerted in painful struggles, overcom- ing difficulties, and conquering in a glorious cause, and he will feel their efiects in his ad- miring mind : he will be actuated with re- spect and love to such illustrious virtues. We account that faculty of the mind, which gives us a relish for these pleasures, a perfection in our nature, and a high one ; we look upon an insensibility to such enjoyments as a radical defect. Let us apply this principle to religion. Who caiTbehold the vastness and magnificence of the works of God without emotion ; and infinite perfection without wonder and awe ? Can our thoughts be fixed upon infinite good- ness and everlasting love, without affection, and without gratitude? Can we behold Di- vinity in a form of flesh ; the Son of God ex- tended on the cross for the salvation of the world, and our hearts not burn within us with love to him who loved us unto the death ? Can we behold the veil drawn aside from the invisible world, the heavens opened over our VOL. L Q 242 ON THE CELEBRATIOX OF head, and the treasures of eternity displayed to view, and after all continue cold and dead ; cold to the beauty of the heavens, dead to the love of immortality ? Where there is any sen- sibility at all, where there are any affections that become humanity, they will be excited to their most lively exercise by the presence of spiritual and divine things. Under the influence of these objects, and the impression of Deity, the devout enter into their chamber and shut the door; they turn aside their eyes from beholding vanity ; they charge their passions to be silent, their minds to be still ; and pour out their hearts to Him who made them, in all the fervency of prayer. Thus prepared to seek the Lord God of tlieir fathers, they come to his temple to meet with him there. Thev are seized with a relim- ous awe in the presence of the sanctuary, and approach to the altar wondering and ado^ ring, as Moses to the burning bush, and as the High Priest of old to the holy of holies. They look beyond the externals of a sacra- ment, and, under the symbols in tlie commu- nion, they discern the mysteries of redeem- ing love. Notwithstanding the veil with which a greater than Moses covers himself on this holy mountain, they behold his beauty, ^nd THE lord's surrcR. 243 cannot bear the brightness of his countenance. When they sit down with him at his table, they are sensible of his presence : While their hands receive the sacred symbols, their eyes behold the Lord of Glory. In the spirit of devotion, and on the wings of faith, they rise from earth to heaven ; they pierce beyond the clouds, and enter within the veil. The ever- lasting doors are thrown open ; the King of Glory appears upon his throne ; Angels and Archangels cover themselves with their v/ings, and all the pillars of the firmament tremble. But not to heaven is the Divinity confined. He fills the earth ; he dwells with men. Look around you, and behold the marks of his pre- ^nce and the impression of his hand. In the gay and lovely scenes of nature, behold him in his beauty smiling on his works. In the grand and awful objects of creation, in the tempest, in the thunder, in the earthquake, behold him in the Majesty of Omnipotence, When, like the prophet who retired to the wilderness, you hear that voice which rends asunder the mountains, which breaks in pieces the rocks, and which shakes the pillars of the world, you hear behind it a still small voice, saying, " It is I, be not afraid." Q S 244 ox THE CELEBRATION OF Thus, good men see the Creator in his works ; they have the Lord always before tliem. They know where they can find him, and can come nigh to his seat. They go for- ward, and he is there; backward, and they perceive his footsteps ; on the right hand his wonders are seen ; on the left Ms goodness is felt. They cannot go but whe^ he is. The Great Universe is the temple of the Deity, built by his hand, consecrated by his presence, bright with his glory. The second thing proposed was, to set be- fore you the advantages which accompany this solemn approach to God, v^hich are tha £J1- lowing : There is honour in approachiiijpo God, there is joy in approaching to God, tfJere is consolation in approaching to God, there is preparation for heaven in approaching to God. Firsts then, There is honour in approaching to God. The superiority of man to the ani- mal world has been inferred from the struc- ture and formation of his body. While the inferior animals, prone and grovelling, bend downwards to that earth which is their only element, man is formed with an erect figure, and with a countenance that looks to the hea- THE lord's supper. 245 vens., His erect figure is given as the indica- tion of an elevated mind ; and tlie counte- nance that looks to the heavens is bestowed, oin order to prepare us for the contemplation of what is great and glorious. With this for- mation of body, and with this tendency^ of mind, man feels that the earth is not Ms iiative region ; he looks abroad over the whole extent of nature ; he has an eye that glances from earth to heaven, and a mind which, unconfined by space or time, seizes on eternity. The eye that glances from earth to heaven, the mind which seizes on eternity, draws the line between the intellectual and animal world. The beast of the field, indeed, b^ftBsljls the face of the heavens ; the bird of ite^ir is cheered with the splendour of the sun ; but man alone has the intellectual eye, which beholds in the heavens the handiwork of Omnipotence, and which traces in the sun the glory of its Creator. To him, high fa- voured of his Maker, a scene opens, unseen by the eye of sense ; a new heaven and a new earth present themselves ; the intellectual world discloses its rising wonders, and, seen byjiis own light, in the majesty of moral per- fection, God appears. It was reserved to be the glory of man, that he alone, of all the in- ^-v.. 246 ON THE CELi:CKAT10N OF habitants of this lower world, should be ad- mitted into the presence of his Creator, and hold intercourse with the Author of his being. Accordingly, in the happy days of the hu- man race, when the age of innocence lasted, and the garden of Eden bloomed, there was an intercourse between heaven and earth, and God did dwell with man. Our first parents in Paradise were sensible of his presence ; they heard his voice among the trees of the garden ; they held converse with him face to face, and found that the chief honour of their nature consisted in drawing nigh to God. Nay, it is the happiness of higher natures, it is the glory of superior beings, of the principalities and powers in heaven, to dwell in the presence of their King, to worship at the throne of infinite perfection, and draw nearer and nearer to the foun- tain of all felicity. But this honour have all the saints. To thee, O Christian ! it is given to hold communion with the Creator, and to become the friend of the Almighty. Truly your fellowship is with the Father, and his Son Jesus Christ. If it be great and honourable to be near the person and round the throne of an earthly king, how truly glorious are they whom the King of heaven deh'ghteth to lionour ! THE lord's SlPrER. 247 No wonder, then, tliat though exalted to the highest dignity which the world can bestow, the king of Israel was ambitious of higher still : " One thing have 1 desired of the Lord, " that will I seek after, that I may dwell in ^' the House of the Lord all the days of my " life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and " to inquire in his temple." Secojidly^ There is joy in approaching to God. ^' I will go to the altar of God, to God ** my exceeding joy." The idea of a perfect being is the most joyful subject of contempla- tion that can be presented to man. Moral qualities, even when they shine in a lesser degree, have a charm for the soul. The pro- spect of natural beauty is not more pleasant to the eye, than the contemplation of moral beauty to the mind. A great and good action, a striking instance of benevolence, of public spirit, of magnanimity, interests us strongly in behalf of the performer, and makes the heart glow with gratitude to him, although he be vmknown. We take delight in placing before our eves the illustrious characters that stand forth in history, wise legislators, unshaken pa- triots, public benefactors of mankind, or mo- dels of goodness in private life, whose virtues shone to the past, and shine to present times. 248 ON THE CELEBRATION OF whose lives were glorious to themselves, and be- neficial to the world. If an imperfect copy gives so much satisfaction, how will we be affected at the contemplation of the great Original ? If a few faint traces and lineaments of goodness, scattered up and down, yield us so much plea- sure, the pleasure will be supreme, when we con- template his nature in whom every excellence, every moral perfection, all Divine attributes, reside as in their native seat, flow as from their eternal source, and ever operate as vital and immortal principles. For all created beauty is but a shadow of that beauty which is uncreated ; all human excellence but an emanation of that excellence which is Di- vine; all finite perfection but a faint copy of perfections which are infinite ; and all the traces of goodness to be found among men or angels, but a few faint rays from the Father of lights, the uncreated, unclouded, and unset- ting Sun of nature, who at first gave life to the universe, who kindled the vital flame which is still glowing, who supplies all the orbs of heaven with undiminished lustre, and whose single smile spreads joy over the moral world. Thus, the very idea of a perfect Being is a source of high pleasure to the mind; but to ]Lis there is more implied in the idea of the TUB lord's supper. 249 Deity. For these perfections arc not dormant in the Divine nature; they are perpetually employed for the happiness of man. This glorious Being is our Father and our Friend. He called us into being at first, to make us happy ; he hath given us many proofs of his goodness, and he hath allowed us to hope for more. He is soon to give us an opportunity of commemorating the most signal* display of his grace, his noblest gift to the children of men. And, if he spared not his own Son, but freely gave him up to the death for us all, may it not be depended upon, that with him he will give us all things ? Entering into these ideas, and animated with this spirit, the pious man is never so much in his element, as when he is drawino; nidi to God. The mind never makes nobler exertions, is never so conscious of its native grandeur and ancient dignity, as when holding high converse with its Crea- tor : The heart never feels such unspeakable peace, as when it is fixed upon him who made it — as when its affections go out on the su- preme beauty — as when it rests upon the Eock of ages, and is held within the circle of the everlasting arms. Hence, the good men of old, in approach- ing to God, broke forth into the language of 250 ON TllE CELEBRATION OF rapture : ** As the hart panteth after the water- ^^ brook, so panteth my soul after thee, O ^* Lord. O God, thou art my God, early will " I seek thee. My flesh longeth for thee in " a dry and parched land, wherein no water " is ; that I may see thy glory as I have seen " it in the sanctuary. Because thy loving- *' kindness is better than life, my mouth shall " praise tliee with joyftd lips. Surely we shall " be satisfied with the goodness of thy house, " and thou wilt give us to drink the river of thy " pleasures.-— -Whom have we in the heavens " but thee, and what is there upon the earth ^' that we can desire beside thee? My flesh " and heart shall fail, but thou art the strength ** of my heart and my portion for ever." Thirdly^ There is consolation in approach- ing to God. Alas ! in this world, afllictions so abound, that consolation is often our greatest good. In how few days of this mortal life do we not feel the want of a comforter ? Ever since the introduction of sin into the earth, human life hath been a scene of misery, Man is born to trouble, and sore is the travail which is appointed to him under the sun. We come into the world the most forlorn of all beings ; the voice of sorrow is heard from the birth ; man sighs on through every path of THE lord's blil'l'EH. 251 future life, and the grave is the only place of refuge, where the weary are at rest. Some- times, indeed, a gleam of joy intervenes, an interval of happiness takes place. Fond man indulges the favourable hour. Then we pro- mise to ourselves the scenes of paradise; per- petual sunshine, and days without a cloud. But the brightness only shines to disappear ; the cloud comes again, and we awake to our wonted anxiety and sorrow. Not limited to our own personal woes, we are doomed to suffer for sorrows not our own. We are not unconcerned spectators of human life. We are interested in every event that befalls our fellow men. Sympathy makes us feel the distresses of others ; and the best af- fections of the heart become the sources of woe. How many deaths do we suffer in mourning over the friends that we have lost ! While we lament their unhappy or untimely fate, we cut short the thread of our own days. The chords of love are broken, one after ano- ther ; string after string is severed from the heart, till all our early attachments are dissolv- ed, till our sad eyes have wept over every friend laid in the dust, and till we become lonely and wretched as we at first began. 252 ON THE CELEBRATION OF Under these afflictions, and from these sor- rows, devotion opens a retreat ; the altar of God presents a place of refuge ; the ear of the Eternal is open to thy cry ; the arm of the Al- mighty is stretched out to relieve thee. There is a sanctuary vi/here no evil can approach; there is an asylum where no enemy can enter. In the pavilion of his presence, God will hide thee in the time of trouble ; in the secret of his tabernacle, he wdll cover thee in the day of danger. There the prisoners rest in peace, and hear not the voice of the oppressor. There are the small and the great, and the servant is free from his master. There the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. It is some consolation, it is some relief, to open our hearts to men, and tell our sorrows to a friend, who can give us no relief, but by mingling his tears with ours. What consola- tion, w^hat relief will it then give to open our hearts, and tell our sorrows to that Friend above, who is ever gracious to liear, and ever mighty to save ! To that Friend who never fails ; who is afflicted in all our afflictions, and who keeps us as the apple of his eye ! Art thou therefore oppressed with tlie calamities of life; is thy head bowed down with afflic- tion, or tliy heart broken with sorrow ? Ap» THE lord's supper. 25 proach to the altar, go to God, present to him the prayer of thy heart, and he will send thee help from his holy hill. Lastly^ In approaching to God, there is pre- paration for heaven. The objects among which we are conversant, have a wonderful power over the mind. External things make such an impression within, that the character is often formed from the situation. The soul is assimilated to surrounding objects, and pro- portions itself to the sphere in which it moves. When employed in little and in low things, it is contracted ; when occupied in earthly mat- ters, it is debased ; but acquires enlargement and elevation, in the presence of what is grand and sublime. By daily converse with the world, and familiarity with material things, the soul is alienated from the life of God, and man, setting his affections on tilings below, becomes of the earth, earthy. But when we eno:ao:e in the exercises of devotion, we coun- ter-work the charm of material objects, we re- tire from the world and its temptations, and shut the door of the heart against every in- truding guest, that would disturb us in ap- proaching to God. Standing upon holy ground, we put off unhallowed affections, and impure desires. From the presence of the Lord every 254 ON THE CELEBRAtlON OF sinful thought flies away. Our attention is turned from those things that would raise guilty passions in the mind. Pure and spiri- tual ideas are presented to view, and the per- fections of Almighty God are set before our eyes. When these are before us, our admira- tion of them will increase, our love to them will be kindled, and we will endeavour to resemble them in our own life. Thus, by approaching to God, we become like God. Bv devotion on earth, we anticipate the work of heaven. We join ourselves, beforehand, to the society of angels and blessed spirits above ; we al- ready enter on the delightful employment of eternity, and begin the song which is heard for ever around the throne of God. Such, Christians 1 are the advantages of ap- proaching to God, and encompassing the al- tar. And if, with pious affections, and a pure heart, we draw nigh unto God, God will draw ni^rh mito us. To the wide extent of his crea-' lion, to the great temple of heaven and earth, Jehovah prefers the heart of the. pure and the pious. There he takes up his abode ; there he delighteth to dwell. In the divine discourse which our Lord delivered to his disciples, the same night in which he was betrayed, there is a promise rich in consola- THE LORD S SUPPEK. 255 tion : ^' If a man love me, he will keep my *' words : and my Father will love him, and " we will come and make our abode with him." While this promise sounds in your ears, I hope that your hearts correspond to the strain, and that you recall those precious hours, when God manifested himself to you, so as he does not unto the world. When, on former occa- sions, he sent his light and his truth ; when the fountain of living waters has been opened, and the voice came to your ears, " Drink, and " live for ever ;" did you not feel emotions which came from no created source, and taste a joy which confessed its origin from heaven? Who can describe the blessedness of that time, when a present Deity is felt ? It is the joy of heaven upon earth ; the happiness of eternity in the moments of time. CELEBRATION OF THE SACRAMENT of the LORD's SUPPER. The Sacrament of the Lord's Supper is celebrated in Scot- land always upon a Sunday, in the parish-church ; and in most places, once only in the year. There is no particular Sunday fixed for this solemnity. On the Thursday and Saturday be- fore it, and on the Monday after it, there is public worship ; and sermons are preached upon subjects suitable to the oc- casion. The Thursday is particularly set apart for solemn fasting ; and no labour is that day permitted in the parish. The greater part of persons of all ranks in the parish, who have arrived at the years of discretion, join in celebrating this Ordinance, which, partly from this cause, and partly from its taking place but once or twice a-year, is performed in a manner that is very solemn and devout. The service begins with the singing of a psalm ; which the Minister reads out immediately upon ascending the pulpit. The choice of the Psalms is, in all cases, at the Minister's discretion ; and to give the Sacramental service more com- pletely, some portions, which are often sung on such occasions, are inserted here, in their places. The music is entirely vocal. In a few Congregations there is music in parts ; but in general, the whole congregation sing in unison. The Psalm tunes are set to slow time : the melody is simple, grave, and often very affecting. VOL, I, R 256 lord's supper. MOKNING SERVICE. Psalm Ixv. 1 Praise waits for thee in Zion, Lorcl^ To thee vows paid shall be. 2 O thou that hearer art of prayer. All flesh shall come to thee. 3 Iniquities, I must confess. Prevail against me do ; But as for our transgressions, Them purge away shalt thou. 4 Blest is the man whom thou dost clioose^ And makest approach to thee, That he within thy courts, O Lord, May still a dweller be : We surely sliall be satisfied With thy abundant grace, And with the goodness of thy house. Even of thy holy place. -MOliNING SEUVrCE. 259 PRAYER. (In the Worship of the Scottish Church, the whole Con- gregation rise from their seats at the beginning of the prayer, and stand in a devout posture till it be concluded.) " Lord God Almighty ! which was, which is, and which art to come ! Thou art the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God. All perfections adorn thy nature: Every attribute of Majesty supports thy Throne. The lieavens are thine ; thou hast made them bright with thy glory : The earth also is thine ; thou art the Lord of universal nature. Thou dwellest in that uncreated light, which mortal eye hath not seen, nor can see. Thousands of angels and of blessed spirits stand before thee : Ten thousand times ten thousand mi- nister in thy presence, and perform thy plea- sure. The whole host of heaven worshippeth thee. " Thou hast formed the mountains, and created the wind. With thee are the treasures li 2 260 lord's supper. of the snow and the chambers of the hail. Thou makest thy pavilion in the dark cloud i Thou sittest on the multitude of waters : Thou walkest on the wings of the wind ; and thy voice in the storm makes the nations adore. "^The sons of men, generation after generation, return to the dust, from whence they were taken. The heavens which we behold shall vanish like the cloud which covers them ; the earth which we inhabit shall dissolve like the snows upon its surface ; but independent of change, of the revolutions of time, and of the fiite of worlds, thou continuest the same, im- mortal, unalterable, the Ancient of days, from .^everlasting to everlasting God. " Thou hast given commission unto all thy works, to declare their Maker. The light of heaven reveals to our eyes thine existence : Our ears hear the voice of universal nature proclaiming the Pi'ovidence which sustains what it made. Thou walkest in the circle of the universe. Thy footsteps are every where seen ; Thyself, the invisible God. How power- ful is that arm which supports the pillars of the firmament, and keeps the wheel of nature in perpetual motion ! How unsearchable that wisdom, which, from the first of time has con- ducted all nature ? How boundless that good- MORNING SEUVICK. 5261 ness which supplicth the wants of the whole creation ! How precious are thy thoughts of grace to the children of men ? " Thine is the power and the victory and the majesty. Whatsoever pleaseth thee, that thou dost in the heavens and in the earth, and in the sea, and in all deep places. Thou weigh- est the mountains in scales ; thou takest up the isles as the dust of the balance ; the nations are as the drop of the bucket before thee. At thine altar, Lebanon is^iot sufficient to burn ; nor the cattle upon a thousand hills, to be a burnt-offering. " Thou inhabitest time and eternity, and the praises of Israel. Thy goings forth hath been of old ; thy love to the human race before the birth of time. Before the mountains were brought forth, when no deep arose from be- neath, and no fountains abounded with water, oven then were we present to thy mind. Thou to have the passions of the spectators on his side ; from their sympathy he derives courage, and the pain that is felt by many is alleviated to the one who suffers. But the high and the low, the Jew and the Hea- then, entered into the conspiracy against Christ. The priests and elders accused him. The Pligli Priest cried out, *' He is guilty of •' death." Pilate, his judge, though conscious of his innocence, though he washed his hands from the guilt of his death, ordered him to be scourged, and allowed him to be crucified. The people, with a frantic ardour, sought his death. That very people, w^ho, a few days before, upon his triumphal entry into Jerusa- lem, had strewed the way with palm branches, and cried out, " Hosanna to the Son of Da- " vid," that very people, such is the giddiness of the multitude, now cried out, '' Crucify •' him, crucify him." Thus, in his sorrows, he stood by himself, a wretched individual without a friend. When the Shepherd was smitten, the sheep were scattered abroad. Pie trode the wdne-press alone. Of the people there were none w^ith him. When he died for all, he w^as pitied by none. In the second place, He died in a state of ignominy. The death of the cross was not s2 276 ON THE SUFFERINGS OF only painful and tormenting, but ignominious also, and accursed, — a death that was never in- flicted upon free men, but reserved for slaves and malefactors, for the basest and the vilest of the human kind. There is implanted in the mind of man a strong abhorrence of shame and disgrace. The sense of ignominy is more pungent in a noble nature, than the feeling of pain. To want the appearance of inno- cence, while, at the same time, we preserve the reality ; to lie under the imputation of heinous crimes, to die the death of a criminal, and leave the world with an indelible stain upon our name and memory, is one of the sorest trials that virtue can meet with upon earth. Yet even this our Lord had to suffer. He had to endure the cross, and submit to the shame. It was foretold by the prophet, that he should be " numbered among trans- " gressors," And although he was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sin- ners, yet he was impeached of the highest crimes ; not only as a violator of the Divine law, in breaking the Sabbath, and frequent- ing the company of sinners, but also as in im- postor, deluding the people ; as a blasphemer, assuming to himself the prerogatives of God ; and as a seditious person, perverting JESUS CIIKIST. 277 the nation, usurping royal authority, and for- bidding to give tribute to Caesar. " If he " had not been a malefactor," said the Jews to Pilate, " we should not have delivered him '' up to thee." The resentment of such a situation our Lord felt strongly, and disco- vered in that remarkable speech, '^ Are ye '' come against me as against a thief, with " swords and with staves ?" Thus, our Lord was not only a sufferer, but in appearance a criminal : he had not only to endure the pain but the ignominy of the cross ; not only to be wounded and tormented, but also to be mock- ed, reviled, and scorned by the vilest of man- kind. Then were fulfilled the words of the mystical Prophet, " I am a reproach of men, " and despised of the people. All they that '^ see me, laugh me to scorn : they shoot out « the lip, they shake the head, saying, He " trusted on the Lord, that he would deliver " him : let him deliver him, seeing he de- '' lighted in him." There is not a circum- stance in the history of mankind so ignomi- nious, and to an ingenuous nature so tor- menting, as the following, which is recorded by the JCvangeJists. Pilate said, '^ Shall I re- <' lease Jesus ? Thcv all cried, not this man, 278 ON THE SUFFElilNGS OF " but Barabbas. N"ow Barabbas was a rob- '' ber." There is a misapprehension into which we are apt to fall^ in considering the sufferings of Jesus Christ. Whenever he appears before our eyes, tlie splendour of his J3ivinity over- comes the mind, and in the Lord of Glory the man of sorrows is forgotten. But, my friends, you are to remember that as God is by his nature incapable of pain or sorrow, in all scenes of distress, the Divinity withdrew, that the Humanitij might suffer. Yes, Chris- tians, the man Christ Jesus was like one of ourselves, as eiicompassed with the same in- firmities, and subjected to the same distresses; as accessible to sorrow, and as sensible of ig- nominy and pain. Thirdly^ Our Lord died in a state, v/here, after undergoing an agony of spirit, he was at last forsaken by his Father in heaven. The presence of God, and the aids of his Holy Spirit, have always been the consolation of good men in their afHictions. They experi- enced the fulfilment of these promises, " As " thy days are, so shall thy strength be. " When thou goest through the waters, I will " go with thee, and through the rivers, they " shall not overflow thee. Our fathers trust- JESUS CHKIST. 279 ** ed in thee,'* saith the Psalmist, " they trust- ^' ed, and thou didst deliver them." But in the sufferhigs endured by the Redeemer in the garden, and on the cross, God departed from him, and the divine presence was Vv'ith- dravvn. Christians ! what an hour was that, which our Saviour passed in the garden of Gethsemane ! In the time of his passion, his torments suc- ceeded one another. He was not at the same time betrayed, mocked, scourged, crowned with thorns, pierced with a spear, extended on a cross, and forsaken by his Father ; but here all these torments rose before him at once ; all his pains were united together : what he was to endure in succession, now crowded into one moment, and his soul was overcome. At this time, too, the powers of darkness, it should seem, were permitted to work upon his ima- gination, to disturb his Spirit, and make the vale through which he was to pass appear more dark and gloomy. Add to this, that our Saviour having now come to the close of his public life, his whole mediatorial undertaking presented itself to his view ; his eye ran over the history of that race which he came to save from the besin- ning to the end of time ; he had a feeling of 280 ON THE SUFFERINGS OP all the misery, and a sense of all the guilt of men. If he looked back into past times, what did he behold? The earth a field of blood, a vale of tears, a theatre of crimes. If he cast his eyes upon that one in which he lived, what did he behold ? That nation to whom he was sent, rejecting the counsel of God a- gainst themselves, imprecating his blood to be upon them and their children, and bring- ing upon themselves such a desolation as has not happened to any other people. When he looked forward to succeeding ages, what did he behold ? He saw that the wickedness of men was to continue and abound, to erect a Golgotha in every age, and by obstinate im- penitence to crucify afresh the Son of God. He saw that in his blessed name, and under the banners of his cross, the most atrocious crimes were to be committed, the sword of persecution to be drawn, the best blood of the earth to be shed, and the noblest spirits that ever graced the world to be cut off; he saw that, for many of the human race, all the efforts of saving mercy were to be defeated : that his death was to be of no avail ; that his blood was to be shed in vain ; that his ago- nies were to be lost, and that it had been hap- py for them if he had never been born. He JESUS CHllIST. 281 saw that he was to be wounded in the hous6 of his friends ; that his name was to be blas- phemed among his own followers; that he was to be dishonoured by the wicked lives of those who called themselves his disciples j that one man was to prefer the gains of ini- quity, another the blandishments of pleasure, a third the indulgence of malicious desire^ and all of you, at times, the gratification of your favourite passion, to the tender mercies of the God of peace, and the dying love of at crucified Redeemer. While the hour revolv- ed that spread forth all these things before his eyes, we need not wonder that he began to be in agony, and that he sweated as it were great drops of blood. On the cross that agony returned, and was redoubled. Judge of what he felt by the ex- pressions of the Prophet in the mystical psalm, *' My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken " me, why art thou so far from helping me, " and from the words of my roaring ? O my " God, I cry in the day-time, but thou hearest " not, and in the night-season I am not silent. " Our fathers trusted in thee ; they trusted, " and thou didst deliver them. But I am a " worm, and no man ; a reproach of men, and ^' despised of the people. I am poured out 282 ON THE JJLITKKIKGS Of *' like water. My heart is melted like wax " in the midst of my bowels; thou hast brought " me to the dust of death." This constituted what the ancient church called the wiknown sufferings of Christ. In the cup which the Father gave him to drink, there was something sharper than the vinegar, and more bitter than the gall. The darkness which at that time covered the face of the earth, was but a faint emblem of that blacker cloud which overwhelmed his soul. What the deo:ree of these unknown sufferino-s was, liow they were inflicted, or how they were sustained, we cannot tell. But the complaint of dereliction, which the Saviour then uttered, the sense which all nature had of its Creator rising in wrath, when the earth trembled, the rocks were rent asunder, and the grave gave lip its dead, testify that they were such as God only could inflict, and the Son of God only could sustain. Never was there sorrow like unto this sor- row, wherewith the Lord now chaslened him in the day of the fierceness of his anger. Up- on his agony in the garden, an angel from heaven strengthened him. But in this hour, when he bore the sins of his people, when the pangs of death took hold of him, when the JESUS ciriiLsT. ^83 sorrows of hell encompassed him ; in this hour of inutterable woe, where were the heavenly messengers, and where was the countenance of his Father which used to comfort him, and to smile upon him ? Alas ! from his Father proceeded those very sufferings, the severest of all which he was now experiencing. From him came the cup of trembling, which he was now doomed to drink, and the vials of venge- ance vdiich were nov^r poured upon his head. Abandoned and smitten, and overwhelmed, he cried out, " My God, my God ! why hast *' thou forsaken me ?" The measure of his woe was now full: The sufferings of Christ were completed. Before he bowed the head and yielded up the ghost, he looked up to the heavens, and saw the dark- ness disappearing from before the throne of God. Filled with celestial satisfaction, " Father," said he, " into thy hands I now " commit my spirit." There was but one pang more. The last cloud was vanishing from the sky, and all was to be serene for ever. From such a subject. Christians, what senti- ments arise in your breasts, and what reflec- tions ouoht we to conclude with ? How is the ^condition of our Redeemer now changed? 284 ON THE SUFFERINGS OF From a scene of terror and distress, he is ex- alted to the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens. As the sun broke out from the e- dipse which it then suffered, so did the hght of his Father's countenance upon his souL Shame and sorrow, and suffering, were succeeded by glory, and victory, and triumph. What consolation does not this yield to Christians in all their afflictions ! The High Priest under the law was taken from among men, that he might have compassion on the ignorant, and on those who were out of the way ; for that he himself was also compassed with infirmity. So likewise " we have not a *' High Priest who cannot be touched wath ^' the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all *' points tempted like as we are, but without " sin. It behoved him to be made like unto *' his brethren, that he might be a merciful " and faithful High Priest, in things pertaining ** to God, to make reconciliation for the sins " of the people : for in that he himself hath " suffered, being tempted, he is able to suc- " cour them that are tempted." I shall conclude with another reflection. Persons of humane and compassionate feel- ings, when they hear an account of their Sa- viour's sufferings, are apt to be moved with pity JESUS CHRIST. 285 for his distresses, and to be actuated with in- dignation against his enemies. But these pas- sions, in the present case, my brethren, are misapphed, " Weep not for me, ye daughters ^' of Jerusalem," said our Lord, when in the midst of his sufrerino:s. These sufFerino^s were not intended to excite the sighs of sensibihty, and the tears of distress. Sympathy is not the proper return for his love. His sufferings are the objects of your faith, and ought to awaken your gratitude. Neither vent your wrath against the enemies and the crucifiers of your Saviour. liOok inwards, O man! search thine own bosom ; there dwell the murderers of thy Lord. Thy sins, thy crimes, thine unhallowed desires and unmortified passions, were the actors in that dreadful scene. The Jews and Romans were but instruments in thei?' hands,—- but the feeble executioners of that wrath which they provoked and drew down. On these, therefore, exliaust thy vengeance. Bring forth those enemies of thy Saviour, and slay them before his eyes. .1 How will it affect the mind w^ith contrition and godly sorrov/, when, on this solemn occa- sion, you call up your past sins to your re- membrance ! How will it grieve you to think, as one by one they pass before you in review, ^'86 ON THE SUFFERINGS OF that each of them added a pang to your Sa- viour's agony, and formed the bitter ingre- dients of that cup which he drank ! Will not this consideration break your covenant with death, and disannul your agreement with hell? Can you ever again cherish those sins in your heart, which not only crucified the Lord of Glory upon Mount Calvary, but w^hich even now crucify him afresh, and put him to open gliame ? But, Christians, I hope better things of you. On this occasion, let me beseech you, by the sufferings of your crucified Redeemer, to break off your iniquities by repentance. Resolve sincerely, by the grace of God, to live no longer in sin. Finally, implore the assistance of the Divine Spirit, to renew your wills, and purify your souls. Then may ye rejoice in this the day of your solemnity, and be w^el- come guests at the table of the Lord. Then shall ye be joyfully invited to the mar- riage-supper of the Lamb. Then shall Jesus manifest himself to vou in the breakinoj of bread. He shall say unto your souls, " Be of '* good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee;" and inspire into you the w^ell-grounded hope, of sitting down with him at his table above, where, in his presence, ye shall rejoice for ever- JESUS CHRIST. 2S7 more. VVhicli may God grant, and to his name be the praise ! Let us pray. PRAYER. " Son of the Most High! Thou art worthy to take the book of Hfe, and to open the seals there- of; for by thine agony in the garden, and by thy suiferingsanddeath upon the cross,thou hastre- deemed us unto God by thy blood. Thou didst tread the wine-press alone ; thou stainedst thy garments in blood; thou pouredst out thy soul unto death. But thine agony is now over. Thou hast seen the travail of thy soul, and tasted the joy that was set before thee ! Come now from thy holy hill, glorious in thine ap- parel, travelling in the greatness of thy strength, speaking in righteousness, mighty to save ! " Thou art now ascended on high, and ex- alted to the right hand of the Father ! All greatness is below thee ! The principalities of heaven worship thee : the powers of darkness tremble at thy nod : the heavens and the earth 288 MORNING SERVICE. are subject to thy dominion : thou hast the keys of liell and of death : thou hast all power over the visible and invisible worlds ! " In obedience to thy commands, we now come to shew forth thy death. Bless us we beseech thee, and manifest thyself to us in the breaking of bread ! Lord remember us when thou art now come to thy kingdom : and accept of the solemn dedication which we are here this day to make of ourselves unto thee ! " Our Father which art in Heaven, hallow- " ed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy *• will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. " Give us this day our daily bread. And for- " give us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. " And lead us not into temptation, but de- *' liver us from evil : for thine is the kingdom, ^ and the power, and the glory, for ever." Amen. MORNING SERVICE. 289 Psalm xviii. 4 Floods of ill men affrighted mc, Death's pangs about me went, 5 Hell's sorrows me environed : Death's snares did me prevent. 6 In my distress I called on God, Cried to my God did I ; He from his temple heard my voice. To his ears came my cry, 7 Th' earth, as affrighted, then did shake, Trembling upon it seiz'd ; The hills' foundations moved were, Because he was displeas'd. VOL. I. 290 lord's supper. FENCING OF THE TABLES. [What is termed the Fencing of the Tables, is a Discourse designed to point out the characters of such as are worthy^ and such as are unworthy, to be admitted to sit at them. Among the Author's manuscripts, no form for this purpose could be found. The following is supplied by one of his friends, that no part of the Sacramental service might b© wanting.] '' Christians, we proceed to the particular and solemn service of this day. An ordin- ance the most sacred and holy in the Christ- ian religion, is now, by the blessing of God, to be celebrated among us. The Table of the last Supper of our Lord is before you ; and there will soon be placed upon it the consecrated representations of the Blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the second Person of the Trinity, and the Saviour of the world. Let now, therefore, the believer in Christ, and the keeper of his commandments, prepare himself to approach and sit down, partake of the spiritual feast, and present his vows to the Most High. MORNrXG SERVICE. 291 * My brethren ! So sacred an occasion as this is, demands, upon our part, a suitable frame of spirit, and naturally tends to inspire us with religious awe. Many serious and solemn tlioughts now arise in the mind. An holy fear takes possession of the soul ; and we distrust ourselves, when about to approach into the presence of the living God. " Who *^ is the man that shall ascend into the holy *^ hill ? and where is he who has clean hands " and a pure heart ?" These questions arise in the breasts even of the faithful and of the devout. They know that God is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity ; and therefore they desire to sanctify their hearts before Him, and to prepare themselves to enter within the FeiVce that is now to be drawn round his holy place. ' Before, therefore, we advance, let us in- quire,— What is it that God hath required of us ? How read the commandments and the Law ? In the Book of Exodus xx. 3. &c. we find these words : — " Thou shalt have no other gods before ^' me. " Thou shalt not make unto thee any gra- " ven image, or any likeness of any thing that t2 S92 lord's supper. " is in heaven above, or that is in the earth ^' beneath, or that is in the waters under the " earth. Thou shalt not bow down thyself to ^' them, nor serve them : for I the Lord thy " God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity " of the fathers upon the children unto the " third and fourth generation of them that "hate me: and shewing mercy unto thou- " sands of them that love me, and keep my " commandments. " Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord " thv God in vain ! for the Lord will not hold " him guiltless that taketh his name in vain. " Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it " holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do " all thy work. But the seventh day is the " Sabbath of the Lord thy God : in it thou " shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, " nor thy daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy " maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor the stran- " ger that is within thy gates : for in six days " the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, " and all that in them is, and rested the se- " venth day ; wherefore the Lord blessed the " Sabbath day, and hallowed it. " Honour thy father and thy mother : that " thy days may be long upon the land which " the Lord thy God giveth thee. M MORNING SERVlCi:. 293 " Thou shalt not kill. " Thou shalt not commit adultery. " Thou shalt not steal. « Thou shalt not bear false witness against " thy neighbour. '' Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's " house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's " wife, nor his man-servant, nor his maid ser- " vant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing " that is thy neighbour's." ' * Such is the law : and we read, that when it was delivered, there was thunder on Sinai, and the people, in fear, " removed and stood ^' afar off." Let him who is guilty of wilfully and habitually breaking the law, forbear to ap- proach unto this table : Stand back, thou pro^ fane ! But let him who obeys, and who loves the law, come forward : Sit down, thou blessed of the Lord! ' Let us next proceed from the Old to the New Testament, from the laws of Moses to the laws of Christ. These are not reduced into a summary ; but their substance is, faith, charity, humility, and holiness. We have the character of the blessed in Jesus described particularly by himself in the sermon on the mount,' Matth. v. 3, &c. " Blessed are the poor in spirit ; for theirs '' is the kingdom of heaven. 294 lord's supper. " Blessed are they that mourn : for they " shall be comforted. *' Blessed are the meek : for they sliall in- ^' herit the earth. " Blessed are they which do hunger and " thirst after righteousness : for they shall be " filled. " Blessed are the merciful : for they shall " obtain mercy. " Blessed are the pure in heart : for they " shall see God. " Blessed are the peace-makers : for they " shall be called the children of God. " Blessed are they which are persecuted for " righteousness' sake : for theirs is the king- '^ dom of heaven. '' Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, " and persecute you, and shall say all man- '' ner oi evil against you falsely for my sake. " Rejoice, and be exceeding glad ; for great " is your reward in heaven : for so persecut- " ed they the prophets which were before " you." ^Such is the character of the disciples of Christ, — of those Vv^ho are worthy to sit down at the Sacrament of the Supper. Let him whose character is opposite, forbear to ap- proach unto this table : Stand back^ thou pro- MORNING SERVICE. 295 fane ! But let him who imitates and who loves this character, come forward : Sit down^ thou blessed of the Lord ! * Some, my brethren, are thus debarred ; but the invitation to this feast is large and ge- nerous. All who repent and propose a refor- mation of life are welcome. Everv one that thirsteth is invited to drink. They who la- bour and are heavy laden are desired to come in, and obtain rest : and he that cometh unto me, saith the Master of the feast, I will in no- wise cast out ' Trusting in the grace of heaven, let us therefore advance ; and in vows of obedience, in songs of love and of praise, partake of the banquet which is prepared. And, may he himself be with us, and go before us. May He clothe us this day, with the wedding gar- ment, and his banner over us be love !' Psalm xxiv. [Upon the giving out of a Psalm, such as this, the Minister desires the Elders to bring forward the Sacramental Elements, and the Communicants to take their seats at the Communion- Table. The Elders consist of several of the most respectable and exemplary persons of the Parish, and who are regularly or- dained to their office, which has a considerable resemblance to that of Church-Warden iu England. The senior Elder s^euc- 296 lord's supper. rally carries the Breads and the rest follow him with the Wtne^ Cups, and other utensils, which, for the most part, are of silver. These are placed at the head of the Communion-Table, which corresponds to the Altar in the Church of England. The whole Communion-Table is covered with linen. The Com- municants, agreeably to directions given them on a previous day, approach to the Tables, and, after communicating, retire from them, in such a manner as to avoid any interference or confusion.] 7 Ye gates, lift up your heads on high, Ye doors that last for ay, Be lifted up, that so the King Of glory enter may. 8 But who of glory is the King? The mighty Lord is this, Even that same Lord, that great in might And strong in battle is. 9 Ye gates, lift up your heads, ye doors, Doors that do last for ay, Be lifted up that so the King Of glory enter may. 10 But who is he that is the King Of glory? who is this? The Lord of hosts, and none but he. The King of glory is» MORNING SERVICE. 297 CONSECRATION PRAYER. [This Prayer is pronounced bj^ the Minister standing at the head of the Communion-Table, to which he has now descended from the Pulpit. And the Addresses to the Communicants are all afterwards delivered successively at this place.] " Eternal Jehovah ! Lord of the hea- vens and of the earth, God of glory, we bend before thy throne. Thy children prostrate themselves with holy adoration at thy foot- stool. The heavens are bright with thy glory. The earth is full of thy praise. The great u- niverse is thy temple. Thy name is Jehovah, who alone hast, of thyself, being and immor- tality. " Thou mightest have continued for ever alone, in the enjoyment of thine own perfec- tions, though angels and men had never been. But to extend life, to communicate happiness, and to diffuse joy, thou didst rise from thy throne, thou raisedst thine arm over the void, thou spakest this earth into existence, thou madest us after thine own image, and hast watched over us from the beginning of time, even until this day. " When wc transgressed against thy com- 298 lord's surPER. mandments, and lost our original innocence, thy mercy forsook us not. Thou hadst com- passion upon the offspring of Adam. Thine eye looked with pity ; thou didst lay our help upon One who was mighty to save. Him, in the fulness of time, the Ambassador of peace and reconciliation, and love, thou didst send. Our ears have heard the joyful sound ; our eyes have seen the salvation of our God. This is a day of the Son of Man ! " Glory be to God, that peace is proclaimed on earth, and good-will to the children of men ! Hosanna to the Son of David ! Blessed be he who came in the name of the Highest to save us ! Halleluiah, Halleluiah, to him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever ! " God of the patriarchs ! who saw^ aflir off this day w^hich we now commemorate : God of the prophets I who foretold its arrival : God of the righteous men ! who desired its ap- proach : God of the evangelists and apostles ! who first beheld the day of the Messiah : God of the martyrs and confessors ! who ho- noured it with their blood : God of our fa- thers ! wlio within these walls have^kept it in remembrance : God of our children ! who will commemorate it when we shall sleep in the MOKNIXG SERVICE. 299 clust : God of time ! God of eternity ! descend now, make thyself known to us, and fill this house with thy glory. " Father Ahnighty ! Creator of the world, great Parent and Preserver of men, who didst contrive the mystery of our redemption, which we now come to commemorate : Son of the Most High ! Redeemer of the world, Inter- cessor, Friend, and Patron of the human race,, who by thy death upon the cross, didst accom- plish the mystery of our redemption, which we now come to commemorate : Eternal Spirit ! proceeding from the Father and the Son, Au- thor of the divine life, Comforter of the faith- ful, Inhabitant of the temple of a pure heart, who dost apply to the penitent the benefits of til at redemption which we now come to com- memorate,— Father, Son, and Holy Spirit ! God blessed for ever ; be now present ; be now propitious, and hear the prayers of thy people. *' Thou hast brought us to thy holy moun- tain ; make us joyful in thy house of prayer. We have come to thy temple ; may we be- hold thy glory ; may the beauty of our God be upon us, and make all thy goodness to pass before us. Open unto us the fountain of life, that wc may drink and live. Now 300 LORD S SUPPEII. command the blessing, even life for ever- more. " May these elements of bread and wine, which, in the name, and by the authority, of the Lord Jesus Christ, we now set apart to represent his body and blood, convey to the faithful the grace of the new covenant. May the bread become the bread of life ; may the fruit of the vine be a foretaste of that wine which is for ever new in the kingdom of the Father. Eating of this bread, and drinking of this cup, may we never after hunger or thirst again. Hear, 0 God, these our humble praises and prayers. May they now ascend before thee with acceptance from this table, upon which are the emblems of the Lamb sa- crificed, to the throne of the Lamb reigning in glory. Now, to the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be all glory, and honour, dominion and power, tinie without end. — Amen." ADDRESS TO COMMUNICANTS BEFORE AND AFTER THE SERVICE OF THE TABLES. [Service of Tahle-i, is the homely plirase which hiis been long used, and is still retained upon this occasion. It btrict- MORNIXG SERVICE. SQl ly refers to the distribution of the Elements by the Elders. It has been improperly extended to the Addresses made by the Minister; for the Minister, in reality, only gives the Elements to the Connnunicants who sit nearest on each hand. The Elders administer them to the rest. At the First Table, the Minister, immediately upon con- cluding the Consecration Prayer, usually proceeds to read the words of the Institution, and, without adding more, to distri- bute the Elements. Eut before the Service of the succeed- mg Tables, Addresses at some length are made to the Com- municants.] TABLE FIRST. [Before the Semce.] " Communicants ! I now proceed, after the example, and in the words of our Lord, to distribute among you the symbols of his body broken, and of his blood shed. The sacred warrant was received of the Lord, and has been delivered unto us. [Service.] ^' The Lord Jesus, that night on which he '* was betrayed, took bread, and having given " thanks,'* (as we have already done in his name), " he brake it, and gave it unto his " disciples, saying, 1 akc, eat s" (Here the 302 lord's supper. Minister gives the Bread,) " this is my body *< which is broken for you ; this do in re- " membrance of me." [After a short Pause.] «' In like manner also after supper, he took ** the cup, and gave it unto his disciples," (Here the Minister gives the cup,) " saying, *' This cup is the New Testament in my blood, *' shed for the remission of the sins of many ; *' drink ye all of it. For as often as ye eat of *' this bread, and drink of this cup, ye do shew " the Lord's death until he come again." [After the Service.] ** Draw near, my sou!, and behold this great sight ! Thy Saviour, the Son of God, and equal to God, in agony, upon the cross ! " Communicants ! that agony was for you. It was to save you from the wrath to come. It was to restore you to the favour and image of God ; and to present you one day before Heaven, a glorious Church, perfect in the beauty of holiness. " Forbid it, O communicants, that you should ever be of that number who crucify MORNING SERVICE. 303 the Lord afresh, and by your ungodly lives dishonour that name by the which you are called. The religion of Jesus may be attack- ed by its enemies, but it can only be hurt by its friends. Much, therefore, O Christians, depends upon you. The sincerity of your faith, the truth of your religion, and the ho- nour of your Master, are at stake. Shew to the world the divinity of the Gospel, by lead- ino; lives becomino; its o;lorious lio:ht ; and never forget the vows which you have this day made. " To animate you to run the race of glory, lift up your eyes, O Communicants, from these symbols of the Lamb sacrificed, to the throne of the Lamb reigning in glory. There the harps of heaven are all employed, and the song of Moses and the Lamb is heard from ten thousand voices. The blessed above, with one accord, cast down their crowns at the foot of the throne, and cry out, Hosanna, and blessing, and praise ! Many who, like ourselves, were frail and imperfect creatures, who, like us, struggled under the bondage of corruption, have now entered within the gates of the heavenly Zion, and have sat with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the new Jerusalem. " O city of the living God ! when shall we 304 lord's supper. approach to thee ! When shall the day come, when death shall be swallowed up in victory ; when this corrupted shall put on incorrup- tion ; when this mortal shall put on immor- tality ! This is our song in the house of our pilgrimage. Because of this our soul rejoices, and our flesh shall rest in hope. " As ye have received the Lord Jesus, " communicants, so walk ye in him. Go in " peace, and may the God of all peace and *^ grace go with you. Amen. [The Minister now generally quits the head of the Table ; and, after communicating at the Second Service, resumes his place in the Pulpit. One or more neighbouring Ministers, who act the part of his Assistants, preside, in succession, at the remaining Tables.] Psalm ciii. 1 O THOU, my soul, bless God the Lord, And all that in me is Be stirred up his holy name To magnify and bless. 2 Bless, O my soul, the Lord thy God, And not forgetful be Of all his gracious benefits He hatli bestowed on thee. MORNING SERVICE. ^UJ TABLE SECOND. [Before the Service.] " Communicants ! you have sat down at this table, to commemorate the death of your Re- deemer. It was the solemn charge of your Lord himself, " Do this in remembrance of " me." We are so formed by the Author of our frame, that the memorial of a friend who is no more, and the token of a love that is past, has a wonderful power over the affections. The slightest circumstance that recalls a departed friend, awakens the sensibility of the soul. The smallest relic acquires a value : a robe, a ring, or a portrait, calls up a history, on which the heart delights to dwell. How much more, the memorials of our glorious Redeemer, the dearest friend of the whole human race ! " Remember now, then, O Communicants ! the Man of sorrows. Remember his state and sufferings, from Bethlehem to the cross. Mark the reception he met vvith, despised and re- jected of men ; he came to his own, and his own received him not. In the midst of scorn- ers, in the hands of persecutors, mark the pa- tience and meekness of the Lamb of God. Follow him to the court of Herod, the hall VOL. f. u iiOG lord's surrER. of Pilate, and the hill of Calvary. See him at last forsaken of Gotl. Was there ever sorrow like unto his sorrow ? ^^ Turn now, Christians, with hearts pene- trated with grief, and bleeding at a sight so sad, to the table that is now before you. You are now to engage in the most solemn ordi- nance of our holy religion. You are going to transact with the King of Glory, now far from men and their cruelties, in the highest heavens; before whom ten thousand times ten thousand angels bow down and adore. You are about to commemorate that scene at which the sun grew dark and the earth trembled. You are going to seal your souls to the day of everlast- ing redemption. Not the last hour of your lives can be more awful than the present. In the view of so great a covenant, I call upon you to banish all worldly passions, all unhal- lowed affections, all the leaven of malice and of wrath, and to sit, with reverence, with faith, and with love, at the feast of salvation, of which you are now to partake. [Servicco] " The Lord Jesus, that night in which he " was betrayed, took bread," &c. MOKXTNG SEUVICE. 307 [After the Service.] *' How awfal is this place ! Surely God is " here, and I knew it not. This is none other " than the House of God ; and this is the gate '' of heaven." lliese were the words of Jacob, when at Bethel he awoke from a dream in which he was favoured with the visions of God. The Almighty gave him this promise, '^ In thy seed shall all the families of the earth " be blessed." " This promise, O Christians ! is fulfilled. This great redemption is accomplished by him, in whom all the families of the earth are blessed. " While vou now sit with him at his table, the Patriarchs who foresaw this day, the Pro- phets who foretold it, and the righteous men who desired to see it, are beholding your Re- deemer face to face, and sitting on thrones in heaven, where they now dwell in the presence of God ; where they now sing the high praises of the Lord. My friends ! there are vacant thrones. Say, are they vacant for you ? Do you look on him whom you have pierced with repenting eyes ? Do your hearts glow with love to God, with love to Christ, with love to u 2 308 lord's supper. the brethren ? Do your bosoms expand with benevolence to the whole creation of God ? Do you aspire to the regions above, and breathe towards the mansions of immortality ? Then, my friends, these thrones are vacant for you! As sure as if an angel descended from his orb, and hailed you to your seat at the right hand of the Father, so sure will be your arrival in the promised land. If you fulfil the vows you now make, the gates will lift up their heads that ye may enter in : your blessed Redeemer will call unto you, " Well done, good and '' faithful servants, enter ye into the joys of '' your Lord." " Thither, O communicants, may ye all go ! May God himself keep your feet from falling ; hear this day your vows, and seal you to the day of redemption ! " As we have received the Lord Jesus," &c. Psalm ciii. 3 All thine iniquities who doth Most graciously forgive ; Who thy diseases all and pains Doth heal, and thee relieve. MORNING SERVICE. 309 4 Who doth redeem thy life, that thou To death mayst not go down : Who thee with loving-kindness doth And tender mercies crown. TABLE THIRD. [Before the Service.] " Communicants ! the prophet Daniel fore- told concerning our Saviour, " That he should *^ confirm a covenant with many." It is for this purpose that we have assembled this day. You sit down at this table, to avouch the Lord to be your God, and to join yourselves unto him, in a perpetual covenant never to be broken. " If, with sincere and upright hearts, if, with true repentance and faith unfeigned, you accept the terms of the Gospel, then all the blessings, of the new covenant are in this or- dinance sealed to your souls. Then the pro- mises of the covenant become your portion : Then the blood of the covenant pleads for you in heaven : Then the messenger of the covenant brings \ou the dad tidings of sal- vation : Then the iMediator of the co^ cnant SiO L01lD*d SUrPKIl. gives you access to the holiest of all, by that new and living way which he hath consecraLcd with his flesh within the vail. " Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion," said the Prophet of old, " for behold thy King " cometh 1" " Rejoice greatly, O daughter of " Zion," say w^e now, " for behold thy King '^ is come !" Sing hosanna : Strew his path with flowers : He who loved us is come : When Jesus w^ept at the grave of Lazarus, the Jews, observing I^is emotion, cried out, " Be- " hold how he loved him !" Christians ! The ordinance which we are now to celebrate, re- presents the Redeemer, not as shedding tears, but shedding his blood for his friends. Much m-eater reason have w^e then to crv out, '' Be- " hold how he loved the human race!" " My friends, this is a feast of joy : This is the eucharist or song of thanksgiving. When the Patriarchs saw afar off this day which we now commemorate, they rejoiced : The pro- phets broke out into strains of exultation, when they foretold its arrival : The angels, when they announced its approach, tuned their harps, to higher joy, and sung, ^^ Glory to God in *' the highest, peace on earth, and good-will " to the children of men." It is a token of love which had no beginning, and which shall MORNING SKRViCK. 311 never have an end. Like the bow appearing in the cloud in the day of rain, which the hand of the Most High hath bended, it is a memo- rial of the world's being preserved jFrom one deluge, and a signal that it shall never be des- troyed by another. " To commemorate this great salvation, and to enter into covenant with God, I now distribute among you the symbols of the body and of the blood of Christ. [Service.] *' The Lord Jesus, that night in which he ^' was betrayed, took bread," &c. [After the Service.] '< I will arise and oo to mv Father, ami f^av, " Father, I have sinned against heaven and " before thee." Instead of being in covenant with God, I heretofore made a covenant with sin and with death. That covenant, from henceforth, I disannul : Be it written in the. volume of thy book, that henceforth I am thine: Accept of a heart w^hich has been long estranged from thee! ReceivK3 a prodi- gal returning to his Fathcr'ri house, If I have 312 lord's suiter. done iniquity in times past, I will do so no more. Lord, thou who knowest all things, thou knowest how sincerely I am resolved to serve thee. " Communicants, you have now joined yourselves in covenant to God : You have vowed unto the Most High, and I hope you shall never go back. Your hands have this day been lifted up unto the Lord, let them never afterwards be defiled with sin : Your eyes have this day beheld a crucified Redeemer, let them henceforth be turned away from behold- ing iniquity. *^ I make no doubt. Christians, that at this moment you are sincere, and in earnest to fulfil the engagements you have now come under. But ah ! do you know the deceitful- ness and treachery of your own souls? Set a watch, I beseech you, upon your hearts. Give them unto God; for unless he keep the house, the watchmen watch in vain. '^ Finally, my brethren, trust alvvays/ in your Saviour, for he is mighty to save. He suffered, but he overcame,^ The hour of his agony was also the hour of his tri- umpli. Then he destroyed death, and him that had the power of death. The Lion of the tribe of Judah bruised the head of the seiv MORNING SEKVICE, 313 pent. He cancelled the hand-writing that was against us, fixed it to his cross, and left it there as a trophy of his victory. He dis- missed the cherubim that were placed in the garden of Eden ; and sheathed the flaming sword which turned every way to guard the tree of life. He hath opened the gates of heaven, and now calls upon us to follow after him, and to enter iji. " As ye have received the Lord Jesus," &c. Psalm ciii, 8 The Lord our God is merciful, And he is gracious, Long-suffering, and slow to wrath^ In mercy plenteous. 9 He will not chide continually. Nor keep his anger still. 10 With us he dealt not as we sinn'd, Nor did requite our ill. git LORD S SUPPER. TABLE FOURTH. [Before the Service."] . " Communicants ! After the first celebration of the supper, our Lord looked forward to the hour of his departure, and said, " I will not " henceforth taste of the fruit of the vine until << the day that I shall drink it new in the " kino:dom of the Father." When we have now assembled to celebrate this supper^ it becomes us, in imitation of his example, to look forward to the hour oi our departure, and consider this opportunity as perhaps the last which we shall enjoy. We recollect the bre- vity and uncertainty of human life. We have upon our minds the sad remembrance of friends that are departed, and of companions that are no more, who, on former occasions, sat with us at this table. Now they have gone to their rest, — to the house appointed for all living. " Let us then, for a while, shut out the living world, descend into the chambers of the grave, and, like the Prophet of old, take a view of the vale of death. MORNING SERVICE. 315 " Son of man ! what dost thon behold ? Dust, ashes, and desolation ; dead men's bones scattered around. How still and fearful is the tomb ! Who lie here in these mansions that are so sad ? The hand-writing is blotted out : The inscriptions are obliterated : The land of desolation has become still more desolate: The things that were have become as if they had never been. No trace remains of a glory that is passed. " But let us take a nearer view of this house of deep forgetfulness. Fellow^ mortals ! around you, and beneath you, are the ashes of your fathers, and the bones of your friends. The remains of those whom you once knew, and loved, are here : The companions of your youthful years : The partners of your tender hours. Now they have no more connection with the living world. " But shall it always continue so ? Shall they who are thus dead never live again? Have the wise and the worthy, the great and the good, passed into utter annihilation, to exist no more ? No ! Communicants ! I swear to you by the groans and agonies of suffering virtue ; by the blood of the martyrs which is under the altar : 1 swear by that tomb from which your Lord 316 lord's supper. arose, as the first fruits of those that sleep, and by these heavens which opened to receive him, and where in glory he now sits enthroned, that death shall not prevail in the universe of God, His reign is only for a season : You shall awake from his sleep, you shall break his bands asunder; and rise and live again. " When Jesus arose from the grave, he pro- claimed immortality to man. When Jesus as- cended up on high, the cloud which covered the eternal world was withdrawn : the everlast- ing doors were thrown open, and the heaven of heavens revealed to mortal view. " In the name, and by the authority of Him who was once dead, but is now alive, I now proceed to give you the bread of life. [Service.] " The Lord Jesus, that night on which he *' was betrayed, took bread," &c. [After the Service.] " Communicants ! We mourn not for those which are asleep, as if there were no hope. We believe that Jesus died, and rose again ; even so them also which sleep in Jesus, will MORNING SERVICE. 317 God bring with him. For the Lord shall de- scend from heaven with a shout, with tlie voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God : and the dead in Christ shall rise first. " I am the resurrection and the life, said our Lord : whosoever liveth, and believeth in me shall never die. Blessed immortality ! to live for ever, and with Christ the Conqueror of death, and the Captain of our salvation ! " I heard a voice from heaven, says St John, saying unto me, write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord : they rest, saith the Spirit, from their labours, and their works do follow them. '^ Loud as the sound of many waters, and of mighty thunderings, this voice comes from a multitude which no man can number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, standing before the throne, and be- fore the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands, — from patriarchs, pro- phets, apostles, confessors, martyrs, and right- eous men, who beckon from the skies, and call upon us " to come up hither." " Celestial society ! Ye spirits of the just made perfect, we hear your voice ! You have now finished vour course, vou have entered into bliss, and have received the crown of 318 LORD*S SUPrER. glory ! We now combat with flesh and blood ; with sense and passion : but yours is the vic- tory. You taste the pleasures that are pure and unalloyed : yours is the joy of paradise ; the white robe, the crown, and the sceptre. At a distance we adore : you stand in the pre- sence of God ; you see him as he is ; you enjoy the smile of Divinity unveiled. We behold our Saviour darkly in the symbols of this institu- tion : you see him face to face, the Friend, the Patron, and the Redeemer of mankind ! " But we, too, hope to become members of the general assembly of the church of the First-born ; and that what you now are, we shall be. Hear from thy throne, O God ! the desire of thy people ; and carry us at last from this table where we now sit, and from which we are about to arise, to the feast of the Lamb in heaven, which will never end ! « Communicants ! as ye have received the " Lord Jesus," &c. * * The Service of four Tables is only given here. But, in general, the Tables are more numerous ; sometimes extending to ten or tvi^elve, or more. This is owing partly to the po- pulousness of particular parishes, and partly to the smallness of churches, which often can admit only of Tables to accom- modate tliirty or forty Communicants at a time. MORNING SERVICE. 319 Psalm xxiii. 1 The Lord's my shepherd, I'll not want, 2 He makes me down to lie In pastures green : he leadeth me The quiet waters by. 3 My soul he doth restore again ; And me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness. Even for his own name's sake. 4 Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale^ Yet will I fear none ill : For thou art with me, and thy road And staff me comfort still. 5 My table thou hast furnished, In presence of my foes ; My head thou dost with oil anoint, And my cup overflows. 6 Goodness and mercy all my life Shall surely follow me : And in God's house for evermore, My dwelling-place shall be. 820 i.odd's supper. CONCLUDING EXHORTATION FROM THE PULPIT. ^* My brethren and friends ! our solemn work of communion is now over. It has been performed with much external decency, and seeming devotion. I presume not to judge of the heart: that is the prerogative of the Al- mighty God. Proceeding according to the judgment of charity, I conclude that your intentions have been pure, and your hearts upright before the Lord. In this view I con- gratulate you on the good confession which you have this day made before many wit- nesses. You have given your hearts to him who redeemed you from the wrath to come ; and I have authority to assure you that you will never have cause to repent. " Henceforth you belong to the family of Jesus. Your Lord now says to you, I call you '^ not servants but friends." The bless- ings which he bequeaths to his friends who have sat with him at his table, are summed up in those precious and expressive words which he spoke to his disciples at the first in- stitution of the Sacrament : " Peace I leave MORNING SERVICE. 321 *' with you, my peace I give unto you ; not as *' the world giveth, give I unto you." — « I " will see you again, and your hearts shall re- "joice, and your joy no man taketh from " you. — Ask, and ye shall receive, that your " joy may be full." These are the words of life ; and have in them a power to give com- fort to the mind in life and death, in time and through eternity. " Yet, my brethren, draw nigh, and give ear to me. — It is only to those who have pre- pared themselves according to the preparation of the sanctuary, who have washed their hands in innocence before they approached to the altar of the Most High, that these blessings are promised. It is to be feared, that with many persons on such occasions as this, and perhaps at this very time^ the performance of the solemn duty has been rather a matter of form, than of true devotion. To such I must say, The bread is not the bread of life, nor the cup the Clip of blessing. Their hearts may have burned for a time within them ; but this flame will soon be extinguished. Were I en- dowed with the power of looking into futu- rity, and of beholding the after lives of this assembly, what might I foretell ? But without pretending to such a power, I may predict, VOL. I. X 822 lord's supper. from the experience of ages past, that not a few will break their sacramental vows, and profane that holy name by which they are called : that by secret sins and open wicked- ness, they will crucify the Son of God afresh, and put him to open shame : that he will be wounded in the house of his friends : that per- haps before the sun shall have ended his course in the heavens, — that perhaps before the cock shall have crowed twice, the best re- solutions will be forgotten ; that one man shall prefer the gains of iniquity, another the cup of drunkenness, and all their darling sins, to the tender mercies of the God of Peace, and the dying love of a crucified Kedeemer ! " O " Jerusalem, Jerusalem," (it may be said still), " thou who stonedst the prophets, and killest " them who are sent unto thee, how often " would the blessed Jesus gather thee under *^ his wings, as a hen gathereth her brood, and '' ye will not ?" " But, my friends, we hope better things o£ you, though we thus speak. Many, it is to be hoped, (and fain would I say, all,) who have sat with Jesus this day, will sit again with him in his Father's kingdom. And for your encouragement, — He will be always with you. Over the liiture there hangs a dark cloud. MORNING SERVICE. 323 which the eye of providence only can pierce. In the world you shall have tribulation. But let not your souls be troubled : You believe in God, believe also in Christ. When you go through the waters, he will be with you. Amidst all the changes of this fleeting and turbulent scene, you will liave one friend, and him mighty to save, who will never fail you : You will have a city which cannot be shaken, a kingdom which cannot be moved, and a crown that fadeth not away. " For you the joys which accompany reli- gion are preparing. Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart. Walk, then, as becometh the children of the resurrection, and the heirs of glory. Keep yourselves unspotted from the world, and let your conversation be in heaven, from whence you look for the Saviour. And when your hearts fail, you have an Advocate with the Father, even Jesus Christ the righteous, the propitiation for your souls. Let us pray, PRAYER. " We come now, O God, from the table of thy Son, with grateful and with joyful hearts, 324 LORD^S SUPPER. to prostrate ourselves before thy throne. Bless- ed, forever blessed be the Lord ! that our eyes have seen this day of the Son of Man : We will for ever remember it as one of the days of the right hand of the Most High. We have seen the King in his beauty : We have seen the Messiah's reign, which, of old, thou didst keep hid from prophets, and from princes, and from righteous men. Thou hast made all thy goodness to pass before us : Thou hast opened the fountain of life, and hast poured the treasures of heaven upon earth* Thou hast this day put into our hands the dearest pledges of thy love : Thou hast per- mitted us to sit down with Jesus, and partake of that feast through which we hope for eter- nal life. " Blessed Jesus ! in obedience to thy com- mandments, and in commemoration of thy dying love, we have this day joined ourselves unto thee in an everlasting covenant, and vowed, that whether living or dying, in time or through eternity, we will serve thee, be thine, and thine only. In obedience to thy commandments, we have joined ourselves to the Church-militant upon earth, and rest in hope of joining the general assembly and church of the first-born in heaven, when we MORNING SERVICE. 325 shall be admitted to the presence of God, the merciful Judge of all ; to Jesus, the Mediator of the New Covenant; to an innumerable company of angels, and spirits of just men made perfect ; to all the host of heaven, who are now sitting on thrones, and singing hosan- nas to the Highest. With them we join in ascribing praise and blessing to him that sit- teth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever. Our souls do magnify the Lord : Our spirits rejoice in God our Saviour. " Pardon, O God, what thy pure eyes may have seen amiss in any part of this day's ser- vice. Forgive the preparation which has not been the preparation of the sanctuary. For- bid that the bread of life should become the means of death. May what our eyes have ^een, our ears have heard, and our hands have handled, keep their hold of our hearts : May we feel the transforming power of that death which we have commemorated, and walk among men as the redeemed of the Lord, May we carry into life the spirit of this day. O grant us aid from above, and the communi- cations of thy grace, to keep alive upon our minds a sense of thy amazing love, to second the good impressions that have been made upon us, and to assist us in performing the 326 lord's SUl'PEK. solemn vows we have this day made unto the Lord. Let us not think, wlien the Sacrament is over, that the work is ended. Having be- gun our journey, let us not wander in the wil- derness, and lose sight of the heavenly Canaan. Comfort our hearts under the hardships of our pilgrimage : Cheer our minds in the waste and howling desert : Bear us up vmder the swellings of Jordan, and bring us in safety to the promised land. May the Gospel -become effectually unto us the glad tidings of great joy, by conveying to us the pardon of all our sins, and peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ. " For these purposes, send thy holy Spirit to abide with us for ever. Sanctify us to thy service ; subdue the power of sin in our hearts ; save us in the hour of temptation, and preserve us to thy heavenly kingdom. Let not the suggestions of a carnal mind, nor the solicitations of sensual pleasure, nor the allurements of a corrupted world, seduce us from the path that conducts to glory and immortality. In prosperity may we reflect, that too often a serpent lurks among theflowers: Li adversity may we be enabled to see thy mer- cy shining through the cloud ; and be convin- ced that we are in the hands of infinite Wis- MOnXING SERVICE. 327 dom, who knows what is best for us, and will make all things work for our good. May we fill our stations with integrity, with usefulness, and with honour, holding fast the testimony of a good conscience. " We would humbly offer up our prayers in behalf of these our native lands. Preserve the liberties of the British constitution inviolate to the latest posterity. O thou who art King of kings, and Lord of lords, we commend to thy protection thy servant his Majesty King George. Endow him from on high with all princely virtues ; place wise counsellors around his throne, men actuated with the fear of God, and with an ardent zeal for the good, the li- berty, and the glory of the people. Bless all the other branches of the Royal Family. Bless all in high rank and authority. May they adorn the stations they possess, and by their influence and example form the manners of the people to virtue. Bless thy servants the ministers of the everlasting Gospel : May they be endued with the Spirit of their Master, and preach the good Word, not from vanity and ostentation, nor to gain the praises of men, but from a re- gard to the welfare of souls, from the love of truth, of godliness, and of Thee, 328 lord's supper. " We humbly offer up our prayers in behalf of this congregation. Let the light of thy countenance be lifted up upon them ; and bless all ranks, high and low, rich and poor. Guide and direct them by thy counsel, while here be- low ; and at last receive them unto thyself, that where thou art, there they may be also, enjoying blessedness at thy right hand for ever- more. " Grant us all, we beseech Thee, that we may partake of the Spirit of our holy calling, and exercise the virtues of our heavenly state. Eaise our affections from earth to heaven, and may we become follow^ers of those who, by their faith and patience, are now inheriting the promises. Let not an inordinate aflfec- tion to earthly objects withdraw our eyes from heavenly things, or dissolve our connection with the joys above ; but may we live on earth as the citizens of heaven ; may we pass through things temporal, so as not to neglect things eternal. May we walk in the world as becomes the dignity of the rational character, as becomes the sanctity of the religious profession, and the purity of the Christian hope. " O that it may be the stedfast purpose of our lives, to hold fast our integrity so long as we shall live. Let not the fear of evil, nor the MORNING SERVICE. 329 fashion of the world, nor the vain splendour of life, turn us aside from the right path. In every department of duty, may we approve ourselves unto thee ; and in every situation of life, may we possess that peace of mind which the world cannot give, and cannot take away. May we pass through hfe unspotted from the world, and end our days in innocence and peace. " Be with us now in singing praises to thy name ; and come forth with us in the even- ing, to worship again before thee, and to hear instructions from thy holy word. Now to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, be glory, and honour, and praise, for ever and ever. Amen'* Psalm cxxi. 1 I TO the hills will lift mine eyes, From whence doth come mine aid. 2 My safety cometh from the Lord, Who heaven and earth hath made. 3 Thy foot he'll not let slide, nor will He slumber that thee keeps. 4 Behold, he that keeps Israel, He slumbers not, nor sleeps. 330 lord's supper. 5 The Lord thee keeps, the Lord thy yhade^ . On thy right hand doth stay. 6 The moon by night thee shall not smite, Nor yet the sun by day. 7 The Lord shall keep thy soul, he shall Preserve thee from all ill. 8 Henceforth thy going out and in God keep for ever will* BLESSING, [The whole Congregation stand up when the blessing is pro- nounced.] '^ May the love of God the Father, the grace of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the fel- lowship and communion of the Holy Spirit, be with you and all the people of God, hence- forth and for evermore, Amen.''^ CELEBRATION SACRAMENT of the LORD'S SUPPER. EVENING SERVICE. Paraphrase Ivii. Hebrews iv. 14, to the end.* Where high the heavenly temple stands, The house of God not made with hands ; A great high priest our nature wears ; The guardian of mankind appears. * Besides the Psalms of David, a Collection of Translations and Paraphrases in verse, of several passages of Sacred Scrip- ture, together with some Hymns, has been, of late years, used in several Congregations in public worship ; and this by per- mission of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland. This paraphrase of Hebrews iv. 14, and likewise the Hymn which closes the following Evening Service, are taken from that Collection, and both of them were composed by the Au- thor of these Sermons. See "Mr Logan's Poems, published in. i78L 332 lord's supper. ^ II, He who for men their Surety stood, And pour'd on earth his precious blood. Pursues in heaven his mighty plan. The Saviour and the Friend of man. III. Though now ascended up on high, He bends on earth a brother's eye ; Partaker of the human name, He knows the frailty of our frame, IV. Our fellow sufferer yet retains A fellow-feeling of our pains ; And still remembers in the skies, His tears, his agonies, and cries. v: In every pang that rends the heart, The Man of Sorrows had a part ; He sympathizes with our grief, And to the sufferer sends relief. VI. With boldness, therefore, at the throne, Let us make all our sorrows known ; And ask the aids of heavenly power. To help us in the evil hour. EVENING SERVICE. 333 PRAYER. " Father Almighty, we come again into thy presence with the voice of thanksgiving and of praise, to worship at the footstool of thy throne. May our prayers come up before thee, as the incense of old ; and the lifting up of our hands as the evening sacrifice ! To all temples, thou preferrest the pure and humble heart ; to all burnt-offerings, the sacrifice of prayer and of praise. « The heaven of heavens cannot contain thee. Thou dwellest not in temples made with hands. The universe is the altar of God, Thy worshippers are, wherever are thy works: every knee bends, and every tongue utters thy praise. Thou lookest down from the height of heaven, upon all the works of thy hands. Thou art clothed with majesty, and dwellest in light. Thou art a God of pure eyes : Thou art glorious in holiness. Thou lookest upon the sun, and it shineth not : the heavens are not clean in thy sight. The angels who surround thy throne, continually worship thee, saying, Holy, holy, holy art thou, Lord God Almighty ! the whole heavens, and the whole earth, are full of thy glory ! S34 lohd's supper. " Thy throne, O God, is for ever : thy do- minion ruleth over all ; the sceptre of thy kingdom is altogether a right sceptre. Thy tender mercies are over all thy works. Thy goodness falls everywhere like the dew, and extends like the beams of the sun. Order and beauty attend thy steps : mercy and love di- rect the whole train of thine administrations. Thou lookest down upon the highest and up- on the lowest of thy works : thou carest for the raven of the desert: thou feedest the fowls of the air when they cry unto thee. Thou adornest the grass with green, and deckestthe lilies of the field with beauty superior to the glory of kings. Thou hast created all being at first with a father's care, and thou dost still watch over them with a father's eye. Thou, the Lord Jehovah, rejoicest in thy works; and thy works, O Lord Jehovah, rejoice in thee ! Whatever hath being blesses thee ; whatever hath life sings thy praise. Who is like unto the Lord our God, that dwelleth on high ! " We, too, the children of men, desire to accord vvitl\ the rest of thy creation, to join in the joy of universal nature, and to bear a part in the hymn which the living world con- tinually sings to thee. Thou hast raised us EVENING SEKVICE. 335 above the animal creation : thou hast opened unto us the source of pure and intellectual pleasure : thou hast endowed us with higher life than what pertains to the body ; and set before us a better world than that which we now inhabit. Thy goodness is new to us every day of our lives. Thou leadest us to the green pastures, and by the still waters : thou guard- est us from the arrow that flieth in darkness, and from destruction which rageth at noon- day. The lines have fallen unto us in plea- sant places: the sun doth not smite us by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord buildeth the house : the Lord keepeth the city. Blessed for ever be the name of the Lord: because the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth, let the isles be glad, and the inha- bitants of the earth rejoice. " But alas ! what is man, O Lord, that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man, that thou shouldst visit him. The child of the dust, whose strength is weakness, whose wisdom is folly, whose goodness is imperfec- tion, whose life is altogether vanity! We be- hold the heavens, but discern not him who stretched them over our heads ! We hear the voice, and speech, and language, of universal nature proclaiming the great Creator: we 336 lord's supper. hear the night speaking unto the night, and the day reporting unto the day, telling of him that made them, and yet we learn not to. know thee as we might, nor become wise unto salvation. ^' Have mercy upon us, O God, not for our own sakes, but for the sake of him whom thou lovest always, our Advocate and inter- cessor with thee. Help, Lord, or else we perish : extend thy powerful arm, and snatch us from the devouring deep. Reconcile us unto thyself, through the blood of Jesus, whom thou hast set forth to be a propitiation for the sins of the world, who suffered for us on the accursed tree, that he might bring us to God, and purify us unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works. For his sake forgive all our iniquities : Receive us graciously, and love us freely. See, O God, the contrition and repentance of our hearts. Hear the vows which this day we have offered up at the table of a Redeemer. O our Father, receive again thy children unto thee, who return with their whole heart, and strength, and soul. Framer of the bodies which now stand before thee. Father of the spirits which now ascend unto thee in prayer, take thine own unto thy- self Our spirits magnify, and love, and bless EVENING SERVICE. 837 thee the Lord : As the hart panteth after the M^ater-brooks, so pant our souls after thee, O God. The desire of our hearts is unto thee, and to the remembrance of thy name ! " May our purposes of amendment and shicere endeavours after purity of heart and life be not hke the early cloud and dew, which soon pass away, and are no more ; but like the morning light, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day. Teach us to shun every temptation to sin : May we neither sit in the chair of the scorner, nor stand in the way of sinners, nor walk after the counsel of the un- godly. May we study the laws and command- ments of our God : Make them our medita- tion by night, and our practice by day ; that we may be like trees planted by the rivers of water, which yield their fruit in their season, and whose leaf is ever green. Let not the course of days, and months, and years, which we enjoy, pass over us in vain, to rise up against us in sad remembrance at the evening of life, and to fill our departing hours with terror and remorse. Let not the time of our pilgrimage in this world be one vast blank, barren of improvement, and blotted with con- scious guilt ; but may we pass the time of our sojourning lierc in thy foar, daily abounding VOL. I, y 3S8 lord's sui'PKit. in the graces of Christianity, and the fruits of holiness, adding to our faith virtue, and one grace to another, till we arrive at full confor- mity to thy blessed image, and be partakers with the saints in light. May we be translated from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of thy Son, and entitled to all the privilegesf of the children of God. " Bestow upon us that faith v/hich purifieth the heart, and worketh by love. Grant unto us that repentance from dead works, to serve the living God, which leadeth unto life, and is not to be repented of. Fill our hearts with that charity which is the bond of per- fection, which sufFereth long, and is kind, which beareth all things, which liopeth all things, and which endureth all things. In- spire us with that wisdom which cometh from above, which is pure, peaceable, gentle, full of mercy and of good fruits, without par- tiality, and without hypocrisy. May we exer- cise at all times a conscience void of offence towards God and towards man, and have the testimony of our own hearts, that in simpli- city and godly sincerity we have had our lives and conversations in the world. '* For these purposes, O God, inspire us with thy Spirit, and strengthen us with all might in the inner man, that we may press EVExiN'Ci sr.iivicE. 339 forward to perfection. May we acquire that humility which afterwards shall be exalted; that mourning which shall be comforted; those penitential tears which shall be changed into eternal consolations ; that contempt of the world to which belongs the kingdom of heaven ; that purity of heart which shall fit us to see God ; and perform ail those works of mercy, and labours of love, for which the kingdom of our Loi J was prepared before the foun- dations of the world were laid. Grant that neither the splendour of any thing that is great, nor the conceit of any thing that is good within us, may ever withdraw^ our eyes from looking upon ourselves as sinful dust and ashes ; but that we may persevere with pa- tience, and humility, and zeal, unto the end. Grant, that when we shall depart from this life, we may sleep in the Lord, and when the morning of the resurrection dawns over the world, we may lift up our heads with tri- umph, and rejoicing, receive the blessed sen- tence of those who, having done well, are called upon to enter into their Master's joy. " And now, our waiting eyes, O God, are towards thee. May the words of our mouths, and the meditations of our hearts, be ac- ceptable in thy sight, 0 Lord, our strength Y 2 340 lord's supper. and our Redeemer. All these our humble prayers, we offer up in the name and through the intercession of Christ, to whom, with thee the Father, and Holy Spirit, be all praise and glory. Amen.'' EVENING SERMON. ON THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST* Matthew xxviii, 6. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. When our Saviour expired upon the cross, the cause of Christianity seemed to be lost. Ee- jected by that nation to whom he was sent, condemned under the forms of a legal trial, and crucified as a malefactor before all the people, an effectual bar seemed to have been put for ever to all his designs. It then seem- ed that all was over. A people whom their prophets taught to look for a king, did not look for him to come down from a cross ; a nation who expected the appearance of a Messiah, did not expect him to appear from the grave. His followers were few in num- 342 lord's suiteu. ber, and feeble in spirit. Although he had frequently foretold his death, the idea of a temporal prince was so strong in their minds, that they could not reconcile themselves to the thought of a suffering Saviour; and though he had also on various occasions foretold his resurrection, they were so much under the power of prejudices, deeply rooted, that they either did not understand, or did not believe, his predictions. When he was apprehended by a band of soldiers, they forsook him and fled ; they had not courage to attend him in the last hour of his life ; to go with him to the tribunal and to the cross : Afar off only, they followed with their eyes, and beheld with tears, him whom they expected to l^ehold no more. Then they gave up all for lost. The sun, which was soon after darkened by a preterna- tural eclipse, and the rock which was rent asunder by an earthquake, appeared to be the sad tokens of a glory that had departed, and of a kingdom that was to be no more. Dark and dismal were the shades of that night which descended on the Saviour's tomb : The hearts of the disciples were troubled, and tlieir Comforter was gone. All the scenes of their past lives, the miracles they had seen, jbhe discourses they had heard, the hopes they EVKNING SEKVICE. 343 had entertained, were like a dream ; they abandoned themselves to despair, and, as we learn from the Evangelist Luke, they were about to leave Jerusalem, and betake them- selves to their old employments. While the enemies of Jesus triumphed, and his friends lamented, the counsels of heaven were executing, and the operation of the Al- mighty was going forward. We read in the Gospel of Matthew, — ^' In the end of the Sab- " bath, as it began to dawn towards the first ^^ day of the week, came Mary Magdalene, " and the other Mary, to see the sepulchre. ^' And behold, there was a great earthquake ; " for the angel of the Lord descended from " heaven, and came and rolled back the stone ^' from the door, and sat upon it. His coun- *' tenance was like lightning, and his raiment *' white as snow. And for fear of him, the ^' keepers did shake, and became as dead men. <' And the angel answ^ered and said unto the *' women, Fear not ye : for I know that ye •* seek Jesus which was crucified. He is not *^ here : for he is risen, as he said : come, see " the place where the Lord lay." The nativity of our Lord had been announ- ced by an angel to the shepherds of Bethlehem, ^* While they were abiding in the field, and 344 lord's supper. " keeping watch over their flocks by night, Lo^ " the angel of the Lord came unto them, and *' the glory of the Lord shone romid about ^' them ; and the angel said unto them, Fear ^' not, for behold I bring unto you glad tidings ^' of great joy, which shall be unto all people ; *' for unto you is born this day, in the city of ^' David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." In like manner, his second nativity, his resur- rection to a new life, was here announced by an angel. What emotions would arise in the minds of these ministers of heaven, who had attended through his life, we cannot tell ; this only we know, that " into these things '' they desire to look." Much more, then, doth it become us to contemplate the life, and death, and resurrection of our Lord ; for he took not on him the nature of angels, but of the seed of Abraham. Christians ! you have this day be- held your Saviour set forth crucified among you ; let us now contemplate him as arising from the dead, and appearing in glory ; you have already sat at the foot of the cross, and I hope reaped benefit from the commemora- tion of your Redeemer's passion; let me now carry you to the tomb, to behold " the place " where the Lord lay." EVENING SERVICE. 345 Behold, then, in the Jirst place, in the re- surrection of your Lord, the proof that the re- demption of the world is accomplished. Our salvation is everywhere ascribed in Scripture to the death and passion of our Sa- viour. As our great High Priest, he made an atonement for the sins of the world upon the cross ; his death was our redemption, and his blood the ransom that was paid for our soul : but his resurrection was the proof, that the sa- crifice which he offered up was accepted by God, and that the price which he paid was available for our recovery. By his suffering unto death, we were freed from condemnation ; but our freedom was not made manifest till he arose from the grave. His resurrection, then, is the basis of the whole Christian insti- tution, and the ground of our faith and of our hope in him. That Christ appeared on earth as a Great Prophet ; that he passed his days in instructing and reforming the world ; and that after a life of eminent and exemplary goodness, he died the death of a malefactor, was common to him and others, whom God had raised up to be the lights of the world, and patterns to mankind. Thus the prophets of old were persecuted and destroyed by sundry kinds of death : thus the martyrs since the 346 loud's suppek. time of our Lord, were cut off in a cruel and ignominious manner ; but in their deaths there was no expiation for sin ; the blood of the prophets and of the martyrs spoke no such language ; their blood cried, indeed, to hea- ven,— not for mercy, but for vengeance against a guilty world. If Christ had died like one of them, and been heard of no more, how should we have believed that his death had a- toned to the penitent, for all the blood that had been shed from the foundation of the world ? How should we have believed that the whole earth had obtained remission of sin from God, by destroying one prophet more ? Although he had declared, that he was to be offered up as a sacrifice, and to give his life a ransom for many, if he had never appeared again, how should we have known that the sacrifice was accepted, or that the ransom was paid? The natural conclusion then to be drawn was, that his labours had been in vain. Then might we have said with the disciples, who were going to Emmaus, " We trusted that " it had been He who was to have redeemed " Israel ;" but now all our hopes are buried in Iiis grave. When he burst the bands of death, and rose victorious from the tomb, then it was manifest to all, that he had finished the work EVENING SERVICE. 34*7 which the Father gave him to do. For if he had not accomplished his undertaking, and expiated the sins of the world, he had never been released from the prison of the grave. When he arose, therefore, and brought back with him the pardon which he had sealed with his blood ; when, instead of executing wrath upon his enemies, he sent again the oiffer of peace and reconciliation, and took upon him- self to be their intercessor, as he had already been their sacrifice, what room was there to doubt of the efficacy of his death, the efficacy of which was so vmdeniably confirmed by his resurrection ? Here, therefore, we hail the completion of that plan, by which tlie world was to be re- deemed : here we rejoice over the finishing of the new heavens and new earth, wherein righ- teousness is to dwell, and come to the. close of the celestial song, which ascribed glory to God in the highest, peace upon the earth, and good-will towards men. Now, we may join in the triumphant language of the apostle, " It " is God that justifieth? who is he that con- " demneth ? It is Christ that died, yea rather " that is risen, who is even at the right hand " of God, who also raaketh intercession for " us." As if he had said, " Who can con- 348 lord's supper. " demn those whom God hath justified, and " for whom Christ hath died ? Our great '^ High Priest hath now offered up the sacri- " fice which was requisite for the redemption *' of the world. The wrath of God is atoned; " the guilt of sin is taken away ; peace is made " between God and man ; and there is joy in " heaven over the world of the redeemed." That this sacrifice was acceptable and me- ritorious in the sight of God, he hath testi- fied unto all men, by raising his Son from the dead, by exalting him to his own right hand, and committing to him the sceptre of Provi- dence, to rule and govern for the good of his church. In the Second place, Christians, behold your Saviour at his resurrection, entering into his glory. His first appearance was not distinguished by marks of greatness or splendour. The wise men who came from the East to worship the king of the Jews, expected not to find him a babe at Bethlehem, lying in a manger. De- scended of humble parents, and born in a mean condition, he passed his early life in ob- scurity, and in the labours of poverty. What the Prophet calls the '' stem from Jesse," was, EVENING SERVICE. 349 at its first appearance, but a root out of a dry ground; it had no form nor comeliness, for which it could have been desired. Hitherto it had been only unknown and obscure ; and at the time of his appearing unto Israel, he was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. But even while he stood forth in the power of the Lord, and confirmed his mission by the miracles which he wrought, the opposition to him increased, and every act of charity he did to others became a new source of misery to himself During this time in which he went about doing good to all the sons of men, he had not where to lav his head. When he cast out devils, he was immediately charged with being in league with the prince of them. When he sat with publicans and sinners, he was called a glutton and a wane-bibber. When he healed the sick of their infirmities, and for- gave their sin s, then w^as he called a blasphemer, and an enc readier on the prerogative of God. When he restored the withered hand, and cured the blind or the lame on the Sabbath- day, then is he no longer fit to live. These were such offences as nothing but his death could expiate. And to death at last they brouo'ht him. He is belraved bv one of his own disciples, and carried to judgment. He 350 LOUd'.S SUITIMI. is charged with the most opprobrious crimes. In cruel sport, they pay him the mock lio- nours of a prince ; they crown him with thorns ; they put a reed into his hand ; they bow the knee before him, and, with profane and impious derision, cry, " Hail, King of the " Jews." And that nothing might be want- ing, to shew how much he was despised and rejected of men, the question was put between him and a murderer, which should be release ed ; and with one voice, the people answered, " Release unto us Barabbas." He was then nailed to the accursed tree, and died the death of a malefactor. And is this the Messiah whom the Jews expected, and whom the prophets had fore- told ? Is this He, concerning whom Isaiah had prophesied, " Unto us a Son is born, unto us ^' a Child is given, and his name shall be call- " ed Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, " the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." Is this He who was to raise up the tabernacle of David ; who was to repair the desolation of many ages ; who was to sit upon the throne of Zion, extend his dominion from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth ? Yes, it is He ! But, as the Scriptures foretold, he must suffer before he enter into his ^ovw EVENING .SEUVICK. ^51 Hence, saith the same Prophet, when he shall be stricken for the transgression of the people, and make his soul an offering for sin, then he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand. At his resur- rection, the prophecies of the Old Testament are understood, and the scandal of the cross is wiped away. The history of the man of sor- rows ends, and the Lord of Glory appears. A brighter train of years begins, and a new era of happy time revolves. From the cloud which had concealed him long, he now issues forth in the beauties of immortality ; from the veil which had obscured him in the days of his flesh, the splendour of his Divinity now shines forth ; celestial rays circle and distin- guish his head ; and he appears to be the Son of God wath power, when he comes in triumph from the tomb, having subdued the powers of death, and leading captivity captive. He now sees the travail of his soul, and is satisfied ; he enters on the joy that was set before him : and has all power committed to him in heaven and in earth. In the Third ip\a.ce, Christians, behold in the resurrection of your Lord, your nature restor- ed to its original dignity. Man was at first made after the image of 352 lord's iJUPPER. God, clothed with the robe of innocence, and crowned with the honours of immortahty. There was no discord among the principles of his frame ; no darkness in his mind, and no disorder in his heart. Happy and harmonious was the temper of his soul. Order, the great law of heaven, was also the law of man. He had a paradise without, and a fairer paradise within. But by his disobedience and fall he became a different person : his nature was de- graded, and his dignity was lost. He who was the Lord of the inferior world, and was in- vested with dominion over the works of na- ture, was now sunk into a state little su- perior to the beasts that perish. This change was the death of the man whom God had created ; the divine life was no more ; the image of God lay buried under the ruins of iniquity. Hence the human form in Scrip- ture is called a ^' body of death ;" and the world is said to be " dead in trespasses and *' sins." But as by man came death, by man came also the resurrection to life. As in Adam all die, so in Christ all are made alive. ^' The creature was made subject to vanity, ^' not willingly." We consented not to the degradation of our nature ; and he who sub- jected us in hope hath restored us again. EVENING SERVICE. S53 Christ rose as the Eepresentative of all his people ; as the Leader of an innumerable multitude who shall follow' him into the heavens. Hence we are said in Scripture to be begotten again by the resurrection of Christ from the dead ; to be made alive with Christ ; to be risen with him ; and sit with him in heavenly places. Here then you behold your nature rising anew from the tomb of Christ ; fair as when it first came from the hands of the Creator, when he saw his own image, and pronounced it good. Here you behold it ris- ing with additional honour : made at first a little lower than the angels, it w^as assumed by one who was greater than they, and is now dignified in heaven by him before whose throne the angels of God worship. In the last place. Christians, behold in the resurrection of Christ, the proof and the ear- nest of your own resurrection. Our Saviour not only taught the immor- tality of the soul, but also the resurrection of the body. This doctrine was new to the world, and contrary to the observation of mankind ; for there is nothing in the whole compass of nature, that yields a similitude to dust and ashes rising up again into or- VOL. 1. z 354 lord's supper. ganized bodies, and to perpetual life. It re- quired, therefore, a proof of a particular kind, which it obtained ; for as a proof that the dead were to arise, our Saviour arose from the dead. Hence God is said to have given as- surance to all men of the general resurrection, by raising his Son from the dead. This sub- ject is handled professedly, and at great length, by the Apostle Paul, in a most eloquent dis- course to the Corinthians, part of which I shall now read to you. 1 Cor. xv. £0, 21, 22, 23. " But now is Christ risen from the dead, *^ and become the first fruits of them that slept. << For since by man came death, by man came " also the resurrection of the dead. For as in " Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be *' made alive. But every man in his own " order : Christ the first fruits ; afterward they " that are Christ's, at his coming." In the times of the Apostle, this doctrine was more felt than it is now ; a strong im- pression of immortality did then animate the disciples of Jesus. From whence, but from this doctrine, proceeded the zeal and spirit of the primitive Christians, who embraced the religion of Jesus at the expence of all that was dear, and at the peril of their lives. The sword of the persecutor had no terrors, when EVENING SEUVICE. 355 they saw it succeeded by a crown of glory. When they looked on the shore of bliss and immortality, they trembled not, though they Jaiew they had to swim through a sea of blood. Even when death was before their eyes, their hearts sprung with joy, and their hopes began to bloom. Not the frown of the tyrant, nor the face of the king of terrors, nor the execu- tioner that thirsted for blood, could rob them pf their peace. They looked upon these as .messengers sent by Providence, to carry them to that better world where their hearts longed to be. This was the armour by which the saints and martyrs overcame the world ; by which they triumphed over pain, and igno- miny, and death, and looked upon fires, and racks, and gibbets, upon every engine of torture, and every form of dissolution, as so many doors jopening into the kingdom of glory. They were invincible, because they knew they were im- mortah From the doctrines which have been now laid down, let us conclude with some inferen- ces and reflections. Christians, you are the disciples of a risen Redeemer. As we glory in his cross and passion, let us also rejoice in his resurrection, z2 356 lord's supper. The disciplesweregladwhentheysawthelr Lord restored to life again ; and the first Christians considered it as such a joyful event, that they used to greet one another with this salutation, " Christ is risen." He who was once dead is now alive, and lives for evermore. He hath re- moved the terror and the sting of death ; he hath hallowed the grave as a place of rest for all his followers, and risen as the Forerunner of the faithful, w^ho shall rise to eternal life. He left the vestments of mortality behind him. Death hath no more dominion. And if ye be risen with Christ, put off the old man and his affections ; let sin have no more dominion over you ; walk in newness of life. As you have set out in the paths of righteousness, continue your course therein. Religion was not intend- ed for extraordinary occasions. Holiness is not a robe which you can put off and on at plea- sure. You must never lay aside the wedding garment. Transient emotions which you may now feel, will not change the heart. Starts and sallies of goodness which you may now expe- rience, will not form the character. The tem- per of the mind and the tenor of the life are all in all. When religion and virtue have been ma- tured by time and gro\vn into habit, then w^e can pronounce them to be sincere and genuine. Let EVENING SEllVICE. 357 him that is righteous, then, be righteous still. Let him that is holy, be holy still. Let the spirit of this day accompany you all the days of your lives. Carry into the world, into the business, and into the pleasures of the world, the purity of this ordinance, the dispositions you now feel, and the purposes you now form. Be faithful unto death, and God will give you the crown of life. Farther, as ye have gained the victory over death, through our Lord Jesus Christ, there- fore be assured, that a life of faith and duty will effectually conduct you to happiness. — " Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye sted- " fast, immoveable, always abounding in the '' work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know " that your labour is not in vain in the Lord." Miserable, indeed, would be the condition of the human kind ; feeble would be our efforts, and few our attainments, if, after a well-order- ed life, we were obliged to sit down with the sad confession, that virtue was but an empty name ; that we had cleansed our hands in vain, and purified our hearts to no purpose. But, Christians, our labour shall not be in vain : our works of faith and love, our exer- tions of magnanimity, our efforts of patience in the cause of ooodncss ; the tender offices 358 loud's suppEii. of humanity, charity, and pity, that we have performed, the kind dispositions that we have cherished or improved, the upright intentions which we have maintained, even the silent as- pirations of a good heart, the warm v/ishes of the benevolent, for the happiness of the hu- man kind, are now well-pleasing in the sight of God. We know, even from our own ex- perience, that there is a reward for the righte- ous. Never have we done a good deed, but we have obtained the gratulations of our own conscience, and enjoyed the triumph of the mind. Let the wicked call upon the mountains to overwhelm, and the rocks to hide them in the day of the Lord. Let infidels look for the shades of annihilation to conceal them, and the curtains of the dark night to be drawn a- round them for ever. Better prospects are presented to us. The hope of immortality is set before us, and heaven opens its everlast- ing gates to receive us to its mansions. Because of this our heart is glad, and our glory rejoiceth. The Everlasting Father will not leave us in the grave, nor suffer his holy ones to see corruption. He hath shewed us the path of life. In his presence there is ful- ness of joy, and at his right hand there are EVENING SERVICE. 359 pleasures for evermore. Know then thyself, O man ! make thyself acquainted with thy future state. Enter early, my brethren, upon your eternal life ; and now think, and act, and live, as the heirs of immortality. Implore the Divine goodness to give you the spirit of that better country to which you tend, and to bless you with a foretaste of the joys which are to come. And, in the strengtli of heaven, go forth from this assembly, immortal ; go forth into the world, the sons of God, the heirs of heaven, candidates for a crown of glory which fadeth not away. Then you will have good cause to remember this day, as one of the days of the right hand of the Most High, and to endless ages you will bless the time when you retired from the vanities of the world, and learned to meditate at your Saviour's tomb. Now may the God of peace, who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, make you perfect in every good work, to do his will, working in you that which is well-pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen. 360 lord's supper. PRAYER. " Follow now, O God, with thy blessings the whole solemn service of this day. Accept of the praises, and hear the humble prayers of thy people. Our souls would again bless thee, O Lord : all that is within us would magnify thy holy name ; for thou hast forgiven our in- iquities, healed our diseases, redeemed our lives from destruction, and crowned us with loving kindness and with tender mercies. Adored be that Providence which hath watched over us ever since we had a being. Thou wast the guardian and protector of our tender years : Thou didst supply our wants, before we knew how to express them to thee in prayer : Thou didst distinguish us with thy love, before we knew that liberal hand from which our blessings flowed. Thy good Providence has brought us up hitherto : Thou hast kept our feet from falling, and our eyes from tears : Thou hast not been far off when trouble was near, nor like an absent friend to the distressed. Thou hast given songs to us in the night of adversity. " Above all thy mercies, we thank thee for eternal life, through Jesus Christ. Glory to EVENING SERVICE. 361 God in the highest, for peace proclaimed on earth, and good-will to the children of men. We thank thee for the divine doctrines which he taught, for his meritorious life, for his ato- ning death, for his glorious ascension into hea- ven, and his prevailing intercession for us within the veil. " While we enjoy the blessings of the Gos- pel, may we improve them. Let it not be our condemnation, that when the light hath come into the world, we have loved darkness rather than light ; but having the promise of the life which now is, and of that which is to come, may we purify ourselves from the pollutions of the world, and perfect holiness in the fear of the Lord. May we live blameless and harmless in the world, as the children of God, in the midst of a perverse and crooked gene- ration. Among men may our light so shine that they, seeing our good works, may glorify thee also, our Father which art in heaven. May we put on, as the dearly beloved of the Lord, bowels of compassion and mercy ; for- giving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven us. While yet on earth, may our conversation be in heaven. May we run our Christian race with patience, and with cheerfulness, pressing forward to the mark set 362 lord's suprEii. before us. as heirs of immortalitv, and candi- dates for a crown of glory that fadeth not away, " We would again humbly offer up our prayers in behalf of these our native lands. We would again pray for thy blessing upon our King, and all the Royal Family. Ex- tend thy favour to all ranks of men, and condi- tions of life among us. *' We offer up our prayers for the whole churches of Christianity, and for all the race of man. Spread the knowledge of the faith further and further over the world. We im- plore thy favour in behalf of the dark corners of the earth, on which the light from heaven hath not yet shone. May the Day-spring from on high visit them, and the Sun of righteous- ness arise over their heads. Give thy Son the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession. May a light arise in the regions of darkness, and the dry and parched land become as a field which the Lord hath blessed. Thou hast brou2:ht a vine to us from Judah : Thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it : Thou hast caused it to take deep root, and to fill our lands : The boughs thereof are like the cedars of God. Do not suffer its fences to be broken down, nor-let the evil one lay it waste. Return;, return^ we EVENING SERVICE. 363 beseech thee, O God of Hosts, and behold and visit again thy vine, and the vineyard wiiich thy right hand hath planted, and the branch thou hast made strong for thyself. Extend its boughs over the whole earth, that its leaves may be for the healing of all people ; that na- tions yet undiscovered, and ages yet unborn, may rejoice in its shade ! " Father of all mercies, God of all grace ! visit the sick and the afflicted. Let the sighs of the prisoner come up before thee : Look down with pity on the afflictions of the just ; bend thine ear to the groans of the vmhappy. We pray for the whole human race, the dis- tressed and fallen family of man ; once form- ed after thy image, destined to glory, honour, and immortality, but now defaced with guilt, debased with ignorance, subjected to slavery, and appointed unto death. Let them know Jesus, whom to know is eternal life. Sow the seeds of virtue and happiness every where. May the blood of Christ, which was shed upon Mount Calvary, atone for a whole guilty world. May the rays of the Sun of righteousness dis- sipate, as one vast cloud, the collected sins of humanity ! " May cruelty, bigotry, and wrath, be no more : May the rod of the oppressor be broken, 364 lord's supper. and the sword of persecution sheathed. Come down as in the times of old, put on thy robe of vengeance, and deliver the innocent from the hands of the destroyer. May the benign genius of Christianity appear in the lives of all its professors, that the heart may be opened, that amiable virtue may appear again, that man may become a frierid to man, and the earth re- semble heaven. " We offer up our prayers in behalf of those miserable men who have abandoned themselves to wickedness and impiety. O most merciful God ! give them not over to final reprobation : Cast them not off for ever. Pour down upon them the influences of thy Spirit, to melt their hearts of stone ; to turn them unto the wis- dom of the just, before the day of grace expire, and the gates of heaven be shut, never to be opened again. " May we all of us this day depart from thy courts with deep and solemn impressions upon our minds, never to be effaced ! Keep, O God, keep our feet from falling. With de- siring eyes we look forward to the glory which is to be revealed ; and we rejoice in the hap- py immortality of the redeemed from among jnen. And now what wait we for but thy EVENING SERVICE. 365 blessing. Bless us, O our God, and be with us for ever and ever. Amen. HYMN V. I. The hour of my departure's come ; I hear the voice that calls me home ; At last, O Lord! let trouble cease, And let thy servant die in peace. n. The race appointed I have run ; The combat's o'er ; the prize is won ; And now my witness is on high, And now my record's in the sky. Ill* Not in mine innocence I trust ; I bow before thee in the dust ; And through my Saviour's blood alone I look for mercy at thy throne. IV. I leave the world without a tear, Save for the friends I held so dear : 366 lord's svpper. To heal their sorrows. Lord, descend, And to the friendless prove a friend. V. I come, I come, at thy command, I give my spirit to thy hand ; Stretch forth thine everlasting arms. And shield me in the last alarms 1 VI. The hour of my departm^e's come, I hear the voice that calls me home 5 Now, O my God ! let trouble cease, Now let thy servant die in peace. BLESSING. " May the love of God the Father, the grace «« of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the « fellowship and communion of the Holy " Spirit, be with you and all the people of " God, henceforth and for evermore. Ame7i.'^ END OF THE FIUST VOLUME. SERMONS, BY THE LATE Rev. JOHN LOGAN, F. K S. EDmBURCH, ONE OF THE MINISTERS OF LEITH : INCLUDING A COMPLETE DETAIL OF THE SEllVICE OF A CiTOTWttittffit J'ttttJraj), ACCORDING TO THE USAGE OF THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND. IN TWO VOLUMES. A NEW EDITION. TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, A MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF TPIE AUTHOR. VOLUME II. EDINBURGH: PRINTED FOR JAMES ROBERTSON AND CO. PARLIAMENT s^^E^^'Er^r""""' ^^^^^^^ ^- co.'^rPKX'i STREET, EDINBURGH; L. B. SEELEY, BURTON AND SMFTW AND R. I. HOLDSWORTH, LONDON. ' 1822. M. Anderson^ Printer ^ Mound Pla:e. TO THE PUBLIC. The very favourable reception which the First Volume of Mr Logan's Ser- mons has met with, has induced the Publication of a Second ; and the same allowances will be made, as in the former case, for a Posthumous Work. Some of the Sermons are incomplete; owing partly to their having been left in that state by the Author, and part- ly to the Manuscript being lost. Their places could have been supplied by others in a more perfect form ; but, VOL ir. a IV as this is proposed to be the conclud- ing Volume, it was judged better to make it up from a selection of the whole remaining Pieces of the deceas- ed Writer. CONTENTS OF VOLUME SECOND. LECTURE I, The Condition of the Good Man and the Bad Man descrihedo Psalm i. 1. — 6. — Blessed is the man, &c. - Puge 1 LECTUPtE IL On the Dedication of the Temple* Psalm xxiv. l. — 7. The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof, &c. - - - - - 19 LECTURE IIL On tJie Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus » Luke xvi. 19.^-31 — There was a certain rich man, &c, 33 LECTURE IV. On the Parable of the Foolish Virgins. Matthew xxv. 1 — 10.— Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, &c. - - - 48 LECTURE V. On the Transfiguration of Jesus Christ. Luke ix. 28. — SQ. — And it came to pass about an eight days after these sayings, he took Peter, &c. - - 62 VI CO-VTEKTS. SERMON r. The Gospel a System of Spiritual Joy, Page Luke il. 10. — Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, 75 SERMON II; On Bepentcmce, Acts xvli. 30 — And the times of this ignorance God winked at ; but now commandeth all men everywhere to repent, 104 SERMON III. On the Danger of delaying Repenta/iwe, 2 Cor. vi. 2. — Behold, now is the accepted time ; behold, now is the day of salvation, . - - 130 SERMON IV. On the Parable of the Prodigal Son. Luke xv. 18. — I will arise and go to my Father, - 146 SERMON V. The Spirit which is of God and the Spirit of the World de^ scribed, CoR. ii. 12. — Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the spirit which is of God, - - 158 SERMON VI. On the Influence of the Holy Spirit. Luke xi. 13. — How much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy spirit to them that ask him I - 170 SERMON VIL On religions Retirement. Isaiah xxvi. 20 — Come, my people, enter thou into thy cham- bers, and shut thy doors about thee, - - 182 CONTENTS. Vll SERMON virr. On the unhajypi/ State of the Wicked. Page Isaiah Ivii, 21. — There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked, - - - - - 193 SERMON IX. 0;i Obediefwe to the Divine Lajv, Psalm Ixxviii. 1. — Give ear, O my people, lo my law, 204 SERMON X; On Jesus Clvrist 'Dying for Sinners, Romans v. 7, 8. — For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die ; but God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us, - 213 SERMON XI. On the Character of tJie Righteous* Prov. xii. 26. — The righteous is more excellent than his neighbour, ..... 223 SERMON XII. Religion, an Antidote to the Dangers and Temptations of the World; Daniel xi. S2. — The people that do know their God shall be strong, . - _ . . 230 SERMON XIII. The danger of following a Multitude to do evil, ExoD. xxiii. 2« — Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil, . - - .. - 238 Vlll CONTENTS. SERMON XIV. On the Love of our Comitry, Page Psalm cxxii. 6. — Pray for the peace of Jerusalem, 248 SERMON XV. 0)1 Death. Hebrews ix. 27-— ^t is appointed unto men once to die; but after this the judgment, ... 258 SERMON XVI. The Christian life, a life of ease and pleasure, Matthew xi. SO. — My yoke is easy, and my burden is light, 276 SERMON XVII. The expedienei} of Jesus Christ appearing in a suffering Heb. ii. 10. — For it became him, for whom are all things, and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons to glory, to make the Captain of their Salfation perfect through sufferings, - - - - . 288 SERMON XIII. On ghrifing in the Cross of Christ, Gal, vi. 14— God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, - - 302 SERMON XIX. On the Salvation of Man being accomplished, John xix, 30— It is finished, - - - S18 SERMON XX. Jesus Christy the Resurrection and the Life. John xi. 35. — I am the resurrection and the life, - 341 LECTURE I. [A Lecture is a stated part in the Morning Service ot the Church of Scotland, and follows immediately after the first prayer. The Minister reads some passage of Scripture, consisting, for the most part, of a considerable number of verses : these he successively explains, and, where necessary, illustrates them, not only from the context, but both from sa- cred and profane history. Besides making observations up- on each verse, he generally, upon concluding, draws moral in- ferences from the whole. It is obvious, that the practice of Lecturing must, on those accounts, not only give scope to the learning of the preacher, and to his talent for bringing many particulars into one or a few points of view ; but must tend, at the same time, to make the people more acquainted with the Sacred Scriptures, and to derive, from the experience of past times, very useful in- structions with regard to life,] VOL. TI. 2 LECTURE I. THE CONDITION OF THE GOOD MAN AND THE BAD MAN DESCRIBED. Psalm i. 1 Blessed is the man that walhelh not in the counsel of the ungodly^ nor standeth in the way of sinner s^ nor sitteth in the seat of the scornfuL 2 But his delight is in the law of the Lord^ and in his law doth he meditate day and night. 3 And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water ^ that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither j and what- soever he doth shall prosper. 4 The ungodly are not so : but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away. 5 Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment^ nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous. 6 For the Lord hnoweth the way of the right- eous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish. Christians and Brethren ! The most criti- cal period of human life is, when we set out into the world ! Frequently the first step is ON PSALM I. 1— 6. S decisive. Tiie young adventurer, set free from the authority of parents and of guardians, be- comes his own master, and follows his own inclination. It is then that he begins to form his character ; and the character that is then formed generally lasts through life. Mankind for the most part continue in the same path in which they set out. The passions of youth may resign to the passions of age, and one set of vices or of virtues give place to those of a similar kind ; but seldom does the formed character undergo an essential change. Our first steps ought therefore to be ordered with the greatest care and deliberation, as upon them, in a great measure, depends not only our present, but also our eternal happiness. It was with a design to direct us in this important period, that the Psalm before us was written ; in which the practice of righte- ousness is recommended, not only from the advantages attending it in this life, and in that which is to come, but likewise from the pernicious tendency of sin to embitter our earthly enjoyments, and to render us unqua- lified for inheriting the joys of heaven. The gradual deviation of a sinner from the onward path of virtue, till he is inextricably bewil- dered in the insidious mazes and winding a2 4 LECTURE I, ways of iniquity, are here most beautifully described. The first step in reahty, though it be the second in the description, is. He standeth in the way of sinners. Frequenting the company of the wicked is a certain introduction to a life of wickedness. Mankind are oftener led astray by the company of the profligate than by their own depraved inclinations. This un- happy bias to associate with the profane arises irom two causes, which operate powerfully on the minds of inexperienced youth. The first is that rigorousness and austerity which some gloomy-minded Christians attach to their re- ligion. There are many persons of such an unhappy constitution as to indulge themselves in perpetual moroseness and melancholy. Those sons of sorrow turn every house into a house of mourning, and behave in life as if it were one of their principles, that mirth was made for reprobates, and cheerfulness of heart denied to all those who have the best title to be cheerful. My brethren, there is no connec- tion; God and nature have established no con- nection between sanctity of character and seve- rity of manners. To rejoice evermore, is notonly the privilege, but is also the duty of a Christian* A cheerful temper is a perpetual hymn to the ON PSALM I. !.— 6. 5 Divinity. A gloomy cast of mind is not only a certain source of misery and discontent, but is really in itself sinful, by deterring others from a holy life, by representing religion in an unfavourable and forbidding light, as if it con- jured up a spirit to darken the face of the hea- vens and the earth, to trouble the peace and the harmony of nature, and to banish gladness from the circle of human society. Very op- posite is the conduct of the votaries of vice. To betray unwary innocence into their snares, they put on the mask of mirth ; they counter- feit gladness amidst the horrors of guilt, and borrow the accents of pleasure, and the air of joy. " Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds,'* say they ; " let us crown ourselves with rose- buds before they be withered, let no flower of the spring pass away, let us devote the present moments to joy, and give thought and care to the winds." By their flattery and fair speeches, too often are the innocent ensnared. They mark the fair attire, and the smiles upon the cheek of the deceiver, sensual pleasure ; but they discern not, till too late, the pains, the diseases, and the destruction that follow in her train. They discern not that her steps lead down to the grave, and that her bovver is an antichambcr to hclL 6 LECTUUE 1. There is a second cause which has often been known to make men associate with the profane, and that is, an opinion that wicked- ness, particularly some kinds of it, are manly and becoming ; that dissoluteness, infidelity, and blasphemy, are indications of a sprightly and a strong mind. By the most unhappy of all associations, they join together the ideas of religion and dulness ; and if they have a good opinion of a man's faith and his morals, they are led to have a very bad one of his under- standing. This opinion, although it has gain- ed ground where it might not have been ex- pected, is without foundation in nature or in fact. Some instances there may have been of great men who have been irregular ; but the experience of ages is on the other side. Those who have shone in all ages as the lights of the world ; the most celebrated names that are re- corded in the annals of fame ; legislators, the founders of states, and the fathers of their coun- try, on whom succeeding ages have looked back with filial reverence ; patriots, the guardians of the laws, who have stemmed the torrent of corruption in every age ; heroes, the saviours of their country, who have returned victorious from the field of battle, or more than victori- ous, who have died for their country ; philo-? ON rsALM I. i.—e. • sophers, who have opened the book of nature, and explained the wonders of almighty power ; bards, who have sung the praises of virtue and of virtuous men, whose strains carry them down to immortality ; with a few exceptions, have been uniformly on the side of goodness, and have been as distinguished in the temple of virtue as they were illustrious in the temple of fame. It was one of the maxims which governed their lives, that there is nothing in nature which can compensate wickedness ; that although the rewards and punishments, which influence illiberal and ungenerous minds, were set aside ; that although the thunders of the Almighty were hushed, and the gates of paradise were open no more, they would fol- low religion and virtue for their own sake, and co-operate with eternal Providence in perpe- tual endeavours to favour the good, to depress the bad, and to promote the happiness of the whole creation. The second stage in the perversion of a sinner, is walking after the counsel oftheun-^ godly. It is a maxim established by the sad experience of ages, that evil communication corrupts good manners. The power of na- ture and of conscience, and the influence of a religious education, may, for a while, with- 8 LECTURE I. stand the shock, but these gradually will be overpowered, and yield to the impetuosity of the torrent. Hence follow the painful strug- gles between reason and the senses, between conscience and inclination, which constitute a state of the utmost misery and torment. Such persons, when they are carousing in the gay circle of their acquaintance, when the blood is warm, and the spirits high, will then go all lengths y/ith their fellow-debauchees, and give a loose to every wanton and every wicked de- sire. But when the fumes of intoxication have forsaken the aching head ; when the calm forenoon hour of reflection comes, then con- science, faithful to its trust, summons them to her awful bar, fills them with confusion and remorse, and condemns them to the severest of all tortures — to be extended on the rack of reflection, to lie upon the torture of the mind. This is a state in which great part of mankind live and die. They have as much corruption as to lead them to the commission of new sins, and as much religion as to awaken in them remorse for these sins. They repent of their old vicious pleasures, and at the same time are laying plans for new ones, and make their lives one continued course of sinning and repenting, of transgression and remorse. ON PSALM I. 1—6. 9 The third and last stage of impiety is &'i/- ting in the chair of the scorner^ or laughing at all religion and virtue. This is a pitch of diabolical attainment, to which few arrive. It requires a double portion of the infernal spirit, and a long experience in the mystery of iniquity, to become callous to every sense of religion, of virtue, and of honour ; to throw oft' the authority of nature, of conscience, and of God ; to overleap the barrier of laws di- vine and human ; and to endeavour to wrest the bolt from the red right-hand of the Om- nipotent. Difficult as the achievement is, we see it sometimes effected. We have seen persons who have gloried in their shame, and boasted of being vicious for the sake of vice. Such characters are monsters in the moral world. Figure to yourselves, my brethren, the anguish, the horror, the misery, the dam- nation, such a person must endure, who must consider himself in a state of enmity with heaven and with earth ; who has no plea- sant reflections from the past, no peace in the present, no hopes from the future ; who must consider himself as a solitary being in the world ; who has no friends without to pour balm in the cuj) of bitterness he is doomeil to drink ; who has no friend above 10 LECTURE I. to comfort him, when there is none to help ; and who has nought within him to compen- sate for that irreparable and irredeemable loss. Such a person is as miserable as he is wicked. He is insensible to every emotion of friend- ship ; he is lost to all sense of honom' ; he is seared to every feeling of virtue. In the class of those who sit in the chair of the scorner, we may include the whole race of infidels, who misemploy the engines of rea- son or of ridicule to overthrow the Christian religion. Were the dispute concerning a sys- tem of speculative opinions, which of them- selves are of no importance to the happiness of mankind, it would be uncharitable to in- clude them all under this censure. But on the Christian religion, not only the happiness but the virtue of mankind depends. It is an vmdoubted fact, that religion is the strongest principle of virtue with all men, and with nine-tenths of mankind is the only principle of virtue. Any attempt, therefore, to destroy it, must be considered as an attempt against the happiness and against the virtue of the human kind. If the heathen philosophers did not attempt to subvert the false religion of their country, but, on the contrary, gave it the sanction of their example, because, bad as ON PSALM I. 1 .—6. li it was, it had considerable influence on llie planners of the people, and was better than no religion at all, what shame, what contempt, what infamy, ought they to incur, who endea- vour to overthrow a religion which contains the noblest ideas of the Deity, and the purest system of morals, that ever were taught upon earth ? He is a traitor to his country ; he is a tx'aitor to the human kind ; he is a traitor to Heaven, who abuses the talents that God has given him, in impious attempts to wage war against Heaven, and to undermine that sys- tem of religion, which, of all things, is the best adapted to promote the happiness and the perfection of the human kind. Blessed, then, is the man who hath not brought him- self into this sinful and miserable state, who hath held fast his innocence and integrity in the midst of a degenerate world ; or if, in some unguarded hour, he hath been betrayed into an imprudent step, or overtaken in a fault, hath made ample amends for his folly by a Jife of penitence and of piety. Verse 2. His delight is iii the law of the Lord. He makes religion and virtue the grand business of his life, and his business be- comes his delight. He does not take it up 12 LECTURE I. occasionally, and by fits and starts ; it is his employment day a7id night. In the morning he riseth with the sun, and joins with the choir of angels and archangels in celebrating the great Creator. He looks around him with a pious pleasure on the living landscape which the hand of the Almighty hath drawn for his delight, and he adores that benevolent power who makes all nature beauty to his eye, and music to his ear ; but he has a fairer prospect within, than nature can furnish without, and the still small voice of conscience whispers peace to his heart in sweeter strains than all the music of the morning, which hails him on every side. With a cheerful and a grateful heart, he contemplates the wonders of creating bounty, he recollects the instances of preserv- ing goodness,, and he traces the annals of re- deeming love. He looks through the veil of created things, and raises his thoughts from this world to that state of happiness and im- mortality which is reserved for the spirits of just men made perfect. His religion does not consist in contemplation alone. He goeth about doing good. He instructs the ignorant in the light that leads to heaven ; he pours the balm of consolation into the wounded mind ; and he wipes the tears from the cheeks ON PSALM I. U^G. 13 of the distressed He distinguishes every day with some good, some memorable deed ; and he retires to rest with that inward, serene, and heartfelt joy, that sober certainty of bliss, which is only to be found in a life of holiness and of piety. Verse 3. And he shall be like a tree^ plants ed by the rivers of water ^ that briiigeth forth his fruit in his season ; his leaf also shall not wither^ and whatsoever he doth shall prosper. A tree planted by the rivers of water, is a beautiful object in all nations ; but to the Jews, who lived in a hot country, and were scorched with the heat of the sun, it was an object both of signal beauty and of signal utility, by afford- ing them a shadow from the heat. Hence, when they describe mankind in their happiest state, they represent them as sitting under their vines and their fig-trees. This allusion expresseth well the flourishing state of the righteous man. Planted in the garden of his God, and watered with the dew of heaven, his leaf is ever green, and he brings forth the fruits of righteousness in due season. His goodness is liberal and unconfined, and his be- neficence is shared promiscuously by friends and Ibes. He is clothed with righteousness, 14 LECTUKE I. and his judgment is a robe and a diadem. The ear that hears him blesseth, and the eye that sees him gives witness to him, because he de- livereth the poor, the fatherless, and them that have none to help. He is eyes to the blind. He is feet to the lame. The loins of the na- ked bless him. The blessing of him that is ready to perish comes upon him, and he causes the widow's heart to sing for joy. All he doth shall prosper well. Among the Jews, to whom this Psalm was addressed, this held invariably true. There was a particular dispensation of providence exercised towards that people, distributing temporal rewards to righteousness, and temporal punishments to sin. In the ordinary course of providence now, this does not always hold. Success and dis- appointment ^re administered variously to the sons of men. But still, in all his endeavours, the sood man bids the fairest for success. While he acts in character, he will attempt nothing but what is just and honourable in itself, or beneficial to the interests of society ; he will always have the good wishes of mankind on his side. And although he should sometimes be disappointed, the consciousness of his good intentions will keep his mind at ease, and his faith in the good providence of his heavenly Fa- ON PSALM I. 1,-^6. 15 ther will fill him with a contentment and peace of mind, that is a stranger to the breast of the wicked man, even when he obtains his wishes. Verse 4, The ungodly are not so : hut are like the chaff which the wind driveth away. The Psalmist hits upon the distinguishing feature in the character of a wicked man. He never acts upon a plan. He lives and acts at ran- dom. He has no rule for his life but the veerings of passion. Present gratification being his only object, different and contrary passions solicit him at the same time. One appetite saith unto him, Go, and he goeth ; another says, Come, and he cometh. The slave of sense, and the sport of passion, he is driven to and fro like the chaff before the whirlwind, and his life is one continued scene of levity, inconsistency, and folly. Verses 5 and 6. Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment^ nor sinners in the con^ gregation of the righteous. For the Lord know^ eth the way of the righteous : hut the way of the ungodly shall perish. The miseries which the wicked endure here, are but the beginning of their sorrows. That God, whose grace they abused, wdiose mercy they undervalued, and 16 LECTURE r. whose power they despised, is now their aw- ful and inexorable Judge. The wicked have no cause to complain of the sentence that is passed upon them. They have brought it upon their own heads. They have been the instruments of their own ruin. They have brought themselves into a situation in which it is impossible for them to be happy. Let us suppose them to be admitted into the com- pany of the blessed, their situation would be still deplorable. They would pine in the mansions of bliss, and search for heaven in the midst of paradise. We may venture to say, that it is even impossible for Omnipotence to make a wicked man happy ; it implies an express contradiction. They have put them- selves out of the reach of Divine mercy, and become what the scripture most emphatically calls, " Vessels of wrath fitted for destruc- " tion." " Therefore they shall not stand in " the judgment." The poor and the distres- sed whom they refused to relieve, the widow and the fatherless whom they oppressed, the innocent whom they injured, the unhappy wretches whom, by their artifices, they betray- ed into the paths of destruction, shall rise up and witness against them. Their own hearts will condemn them. Tlie final sentence is ON rSALM I. l.~6. 17 pronounced, they are driven from the pre- sence of the Lord, they are cast into outer darkness, where the worm dieth not, where the fire is never quenched ; and it had been happy for them that they had never been born. I shall conclude with one reflection. You see, my brethren, from what has been said, that a life of wickedness is gradual and pro- gressive. One criminal indulgence lays the foundation for another, till, by degrees, the whole superstructure of iniquity is complete. When the sinner has once put forth his hand to the forbidden fruit, and thinks that he can taste and live, he returns with greater and greater avidity to repeat his crimes, till the poison spreads through all his veins, and all the balm of Gilead be ineffectual for his cure. Fly, therefore, I call upon you in the name of heaven, fly from the approaching foe. Guard your innocence as you would guard your life. If you advance one step over the verge of virtue, unless the grace of Heaven interpose, down you sink to the bottom- less abvss. Come not then near the terri- tories of danger. Stand back. One sin in- VOL. II. B 18 LECTURE I. dulged, gathers strength and abounds ; it in- creases, it multiplies, it familiarizes itself with our frame, and introduces its whole brood of infernal inmates, worse than pestilence, fa- mine, or sword. LECTURE II. ON TUE DEDICATION OF THE TEMPLE. Psalm xxiv. 1 The earth is the Lord's^ and the fulness thereof; the world and they that dwell therein, 2 For he hath founded it upon the seas^ and established it upon the floods. 2 Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? and who shall stand in his holy place ? 4 He that hath clean hands and a pure heart; who hath not Uft up his sold unto vanity^ nor sworn deceitfully. 5 He shall receive the blessing from the Lor dj and righteousness from the God of his salvation. 6 This is the generatioji of them that seek him^ that seek thy face^ O Jacob. Selah. 7 Lift up your heads^ O ye gates j and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in. This Psalm was composed when David re- moved the ark of the covenant from the house of Obededom to Jerusalem. But though it was composed for that occasion, it is evident b2 20 LECTURE II, from the latter part of it, that it was ultimately intended for that more illustrious event, when Solomon transferred the ark from the taber- nacle into the temple which he had built. As David was not only the Poet, but also the Pro- phet of God, he foresaw the future events of the Church, by the inspiration of the Divine Spirit ; and by the same inspiration, he com- posed songs and pieces of music adapted to these events. These he committed to Asaph, Hemon and Jeduthun, the prefects of sacred poetry, to be sung as opportunities required. The occasion of this psalm is one of the grandest and most illustrious that anywhere occurs in history. Solomon, by the Divine direction, had now finished the temple, that superb monument of oriental magnificence and glory, which drew the princes of neigh- bouring nations to come and contemplate, Tlie feast of tabernacles, the most solemn and most frequented of the Jewish festivals, was now at hand. All the tribes of Israel, from Dan to Beersheba, were now assembled at Jerusalem to the feast. It was then that Solomon proceeded to dedicate the temple, and to fix the ark in its appointed place. The procession to tlie temple was grand and tri- umphant. Solomon, arrayed in all his glory^^ ON PSALM XXIV. ^1 attended with the elders of Israel, and the heads of the tribes went before ; after him marched the priests, in their sacerdotal robes, bearing the ark ; to them succeeded the four thousand sacred musicians, clothed in white robes, and divided into classes, some of them singing with the voice, others playing upon harps and trumpets, and psalteries and cym- bals, and other instruments of music ; behind them followed the whole congregation, with palms in their hands, rejoicing and wonder- ing, Solomon had, on this occasion^ made an oblation of twenty-two thousand oxen, and one hundred and twenty thousand sheep, of which the Almighty testified his approbation and acceptance, by causing the sacred fire come down anew from heaven, and consume the sacrifice. The priests and Levites, as they went along, sprinkled the ground with the blood of the victims, and perfumed the air with frankincense and sweet odours. This, with the fumes of incense which rose in clouds from the altars, had diffused such a potent perfume through the air, that people at a distance reflected on the breath they drew as a celestial influence, and regarded the strains of harmony wh ich th ey heard , as something more than mortal; actually imagining that the God 22 LECTURE II. of the Hebrews had descended from his heaven to take possession of the temple which they had dedicated to his service. Nor were they mis- taken. For after the priests had carried the ark into the holy of holies, had placed it be- tween the cherubim, and had reverently with- drawn, the cloud of Divine glory descended and rested upon the house. The Shechinah, or Divine presence, took up its abode in the most holy place. Animated by this sublime occasion, the Psalmist begins his ode with ce- lebrating the dominion of the Deity over this vast universe and all its inhabitants, and set- ting forth their entire subjection to his power and providence. Verses 1. and £. The earth is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof \ the worlds and they that dwell therein* For he hath founded it upon the seaSf and established it upon the floods. David ascertains the sovereignty of God over the world, and its subjection to him, from his having created it at first ; from his having established it upon the seas, and founded it upon the floods. By this he opposes the sceptics and infidels of those times, who with- drew nature from the Divinity, and denied the interposition of Providence in liuman af- ON PSALM XXIV. 23 fairs : by this he distinguishes the God whom he adored, from the idols of the Gentiles a- round him, who were confined to one part or province of nature : by this he endeavours to inspire the Jews with gratitude and love to their God and King, who chose them from among all the nations whom he governs by his providence, to be his favourite people, the object of his particular providence, and pecu- liar loving-kindness. The Psalmist next de- termines where that God, whose perfections he had been describing, was to be worshipped, and which of his worshippers were to be the objects of his favour and approbation. Verse 3. Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord ? and who shall stand in his holy place ? It was usual among the Jews to add the name of God to any thing that was great, that was wonderful, and of which they would give us a high idea. Lofty cedars in Scripture are called the trees of the Lord : high hills are called the mountains of God: wine, on ac- count of its generous, joyous, and exhilarating qualities, is said to cheer the heart of God and man. In this place, the phrase is not to be taken in its usual sense. By the hill of God, is here meant the hill of Zion, which the 24 LECTURK II. Almighty had chosen to be the place of his worship, and where he had commanded his temple to be built. Near the same tract of ground there were three hills. Zion, where the city and castle of David stood ; Moriah, where the temple was built, and Calvary, where our Saviour was crucified ; but these, for the most part, went under the general name of Zion. By the phrases of ascending into the hill of God, and standing in his holy place, the Psalmist would point out the persons who are to be admitted to worship God in his temple here, and in consequence of that, to be received into the temple of his glory above, and to dwell for ever with the Lord. We have the character and qualities of these persons ex-- pressed in the following verse. Verse 4. He that hath clean hands^ and a pure heart ; who hath not lifted up his soul im- to vanity^ nor sworn deceitfully. It is very ob- servable, that in ascertaining the qualifications of the citizens of the spiritual Jerusalem, the Psalmist does not so much as mention the ex- ternal observances, the costly and laborious rites of the ceremonial law, in which the Is- raelites generally prided themselves, but dwells alone on the great and essential duties of mo- OK PSALM X-^IV. 25 fality, which are of universal and eternal obli- gation. The fond affection and attachment of the Jews to the rites and ceremonies of the Mosaic law, so as to neglect other duties, is the more remarkable, as God, by the mouth of his Prophets, frequently declared that he had no pleasure in them, calling them pre- cepts which were not good) and statutes by which a man could not live. In the fiftieth Psalm, we have an express declaration to this purpose ; " Hear, O my people, and I will *^ speak ; O Israel, and 1 will testify against " thee : I am God, even thy God. I will not ^' reprove thee for thy sacrifices, or for thy burnt *^ offerings, to have been continually before me. " I will take no bullock out of thy house, nor ^' he-goats out of thy folds. For every beast of " the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a thou- ^* sand hills. I know all the fowls of the moun- ^' tains : and the wild beasts of the field are " mine. If I were hungry, I would not tell ^^ thee ; for the world is mine, and the fulness *' thereof. Will I eat the flesh of bulls, or " drink the blood of goats ? Offer unto God " thanksgiving, and pay thy vows unto the " Most High, and call upon me in the day of " trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou " shalt glorify me." The qualifications here 2G LECTURE !!• required are those of the heart and the life, " Clean hands and a pure heart" It is not enough that we wash our hands in innocence before men ; we must be pure in heart before the eyes of infinite perfection. True religion is the religion of the heart ; it is a principle dwelling in the mind, that extends its influence through the whole man, and regulates the life. Unless our religion enter into the heart, we have no religion at all. The form of godliness is insufficient and unavailing witliout the power thereof. We can never attain to the true beauties of holiness, unless, like the king's daughter, we be all glorious within. On the other hand, when clean hands and a pure heart are vmited in the same person ; when a con- versation without blame, and a conscience void of offence, coincide, they are in the sight of God of great price. A life sacred to devotion and virtue, sacred to the practice of truth and undefiled religion, joined to a heart, pure, pious, and benevolent, constitute an offering more acceptable at the altars of the Most High God, than whole hecatombs of burnt-offer- ings, and a thousand hills of frankincense in a flame. By lifting up the soul unto vanity^ the Psalmist means making riches and honour, those vani- ON PSALM XXIV. 27 ties of the world, the object of our affection and pursuit ; saying to the gold. Thou art our trust, or to the most fine gold, Thou art our confidence. Or it may mean the worshipping of idols, which, in Scripture, go under the de- nomination of vanity, as in Jeremiah, " Are " there any among the vanities of the Gentiles " that can cause rain ?" Swearing deceitfully^ includes all manner of perjury. This vice is always represented in Scripture in the most dreadful colours. He that sweareth falsely, and he that feareth an oath, is an equivalent term for the wicked and the righteous. As an oath is the greatest pledge of veracity, and the end of all strife, general and customary violations of it must have the most pernicious effect upon society. Such a practice would entirely banish religious principles from the world ; it would dissolve the bands of society, it would shake the fundamental pillars of mu- tual trust and confidence among men, and de- stroy the security arising from the laws them- selves. For human laws and human sanctions cannot extend to numberless cases in which the safety of mankind is essentially concerned. They would prove but feeble and ineffectual means of preserving the order and peace of society, if there were no checks upon men, 28 Lecture ii. from the sense of Divine legislation ; if no be- lief of Divine rewards and punishments came in aid of what human rewards and punish- ments so imperfectly provide for. We have, in the next verse, the rewards promised to the persons possessed of these qualifications. Verse 5. He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, even righteousness from the God of his salvation. This alludes to the appointed custom of the Jewish priests, who, on solemn and stated occasions, were wont to bless the people. Their form of blessing we have pre^ scribed in Numbers vi. 22. *' And the Lord '* spake unto Moses, saying, Speak unto Aaron ^* and unto his sons, saying, On this wise shall " ye bless the people of Israel : The Lord bless " thee and keep thee; the Lord make his *' face to shine upon thee ; and be gracious ^ unto thee ; the Lord lift up his countenance " upon thee, and give thee peace." But as the priest was a fallible creature, his blessing might be indiscriminately bestowed, and fail of its effect. But the person who hath clean hands and a pure heart, who hath not lift up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully, shall receive the blessing from God himself, whose favour is better than life, and whose ON PSALM XXIV. 29 blessing maketh rich, and addeth no sorrow. These blessings are summed up in the eighty- fourth Psalm : " The Lord God is a sun and " shield ; the Lord will give grace and glory ; ** no good thing will he withhold from them " that walk uprightly." Righteousness from the God of our salvation^ may either mean the reward of righteousness, as the work in Scrip- ture is frequently put for the reward ; or it may mean kindness, mercy and the benefits from righteousness, as in 1 Sam. xii. 7, " Now there- *' fore stand still, that I may reason with you *' before the Lord, of all the righteousness of " the Lord, which he did to you and your *' fathers." Where it is evident, from what follows, that by righteousness of the Lord, he means the deliverances that God had wrought for them. Verse 6. Tliis is the generation of them that seek him^ thai seek thy face ^ O Jacobs or O God of Jacobs as it might better be rendered. This is the generation, who, in obedience to the commandments of God, and in the methods of his appointment, seek his face, that is, his favour and friendship, and to whom he never said, " Seek ye my face in vain." Animated by his subject, the Psalmist pro-. 30 LECTURE 11. ceeds to higher strains, and, in the sublime spirit of eastern poetry, calls upon the gates of the temple to open and admit the triumphal procession. Verse 7. Lift up your heads^ O ye gatesy and be ye lift up^ ye everlasting doors^ and the King of glory shall come in. To illustrate this part of the Psalm, we must take a short view of the Hebrew psalmody. The Psalms of David are of various kinds. Some of them are dramatic, having speakers intro- duced, making a kind of musical dialogue. Of this the ninety-^first Psalm is a remark- able instance. In the first verse, the liigh- priest, rising up, declares the happiness of him who putteth his trust in the Al- mighty. In the second verse, David himself, or one of the singers, representing the faith- ful among the Jews, declares his faith and confidence in God. From the third to the fourteenth, the ode was performed by the sa- cred singers, both with the voice and instru- ments of music. The three last verses were spoken by the high-priest alone in the charac- ter of God Almighty. Many of the Psalms are intended to be sung by two divisions of the sacred singersjj ON rSALM XXIV. 31 the chorus and the semichorus. Such is the Psalm before us. Every verse is divided into two members, exactly of the same length, and generally representing the same thought, ex- pressed in a different manner. " The earth *^ is the Lord's, and the fulness thereof; — ^^ the world, and they that dwell therein." When we come to the seventh, the verse is evidently altered. The verses are not di- vided into two members as before, and for a very good reason. The semichorus asked the question, and the chorus made the reply. Apostrophes, or addresses to inanimate na- ture, are among the boldest figures in poetry, and when properly introduced, as in this place, are in the highest manner productive of beau- ty. The simple thought, when stripped of its poetical ornaments, is no more than this : When the priests had carried the ark to the temple, Solomon ordered the gates to be thrown open to admit the ark. How much this thought is improved, when embellished by the fine imagination of the sweet singer of Israel, and clothed in all the graces of poetry, let persons of the smallest critical discern- ment judge. In short, the passage is too well known, and too beautiful, to need or admit of any illustration. Like the meridian sun, it 32 LECTURE II. shines in its own light, and to endeavour to adorn it were wasteful and ridiculous excess. As we are assured, by an authority that can- not err, that the ceremonies of the Jewish law were a figure of good things to come, and as the ark has been considered as a type of our Saviour, it is highly probable, that its intro- duction into the temple prefigured to the faith- ful among the Jews, that solemn and trium- phant period when our Saviour ascended into the heaven of heavens, to take possession of the glory which he had with the Father be- fore the world was. LECTURE III ON THE PARABLE OF TPIE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. Luke xvi. 19 — 31 19 There was a certain rich man, who was clothed in purple and fine linen^ and fared sump- tuously every day. 20 And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus^ who was laid at his gate, full of sores, 21 And desiring to he fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich mans table : moreover, the dogs came and Itched his sores, 22 And it came to pass that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham' s bo- som : the rich man also died, and was buried. 28 And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments^ and seeth Abraham afar off, and Laza-^ rus in his bosom, 24 And he cried, and said^ Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in 9vater, and cool my tongue ; for I am tormented in this flame, 25 But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou VOL. ir. c 34 LECTURE III. in thy lifetime i^eceivedst thy good things, and like- wise Lazarus evil things : but now he is comfort' edy and thou art tormented. 26 And besides all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed: so that they who would pass from hence to you, cannot; neither can they pass to us, that woidd come from thence, 27 Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that thou zi'oiddst send him to my father s house: 28 For I have five brethren ; that he may tes- tify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment. 29 Abraham saith unto him, they have Moses and the prophets ; let them hear them. SO And he said, Nay, father Abraham ; but if one went unto them from the dead, they will re- pent. 31 jind he said unto him. If they hear not Moses and the 'prophets, neither tmll they be per- suaded though one rose from the dead. The method of instruction by parables, was much in use among the eastern nations. Both physical and moral causes contributed to in- troduce and to support this custom. The people of the east have always been more under the government of the imagination and fancy, than the nations of the nortli. They ON LUKE XVI. 19—31. 35 use the liveliest and the boldest figures of speech in their ordinary conversation ; and their writings are all in the manner as well as in the spirit of poetry. What the influence of the climate made natural, the form of their government rendered necessary. As the form of their government has always been despotic and tyrannical, they were afraid to speak out their sentiments with openness and with free- dom. Truth durst not approach the throne, nor appear in public. Such was the origin of parables. This me- thod of instruction possesses many advantages. It is obvious to all capacities, and has a charm for every hearer. It is well adapted to strike the fancy ; it interests the passions, and thus makes a deeper and more lasting impression than mere moral instruction could convey. It likewise possesses one advantage peculiar to itself It makes a man his ov/n instructor. When the parable is told, we ourselves draw the moral, and make the application. Obser- vations and reflections that we make ourselves, are of more avail to us in the conduct of life, than any instruction we can learn from others. The parable now before us contains many useful and important lessons. We have here represented two characters not uncommon in c2 S6 LECTURE III. the world; a rich man, who enjoyed the plea- sures and the luxuries of life, and a poor beg- gar, who lived and who died in poverty, and in distress. This man was a signal object of pity. He was a beggar, and he was full of sores. Notwithstanding this double call to sympathy and compassion, the heart of the rich man was hardened against him. All the advantage he reaped from lying at the great man's gate was, that his dogs, who had more feeling than their master, came and licked his sores. Neverthe- less this rich man was not a miser. He was not a niggard of the gifts of Providence. He enjoyed life. He was arrayed in purple, which, in those days, was the vestment of kings. Hos- pitality presided in his hall, and luxury reign- ed at his table. He made sumptuous enter- tainments for his friends, and he made them every day. He seems to have been one of that class of men, and a very numerous class they are, and very frequently to be found in life, who are very hospitable to those who do not want, but very unfriendly to those that do; who pre- pare rich and splendid entertainments for those tribes of flatterers and sycophants, who always crowd the mansions of the great, and at the same time have nothing to spare to a real object of distress. However, he acted very agreeably ON LUKE XVI. 19— "Jl. 37 to the principles of his sect ; for, as we learn from the sequel, he was a Sadducee, or what in our days we call an infidel, that is, one who has no religion at all. He did not believe in the immortality of the soul. He did not believe that there was either a heaven or a hell. Accordingly, he endeavoured to make the most of this life, and acted up to the maxims of his sect, " Let us eat and ^' drink, for to-morrow we shall die." Learn hence the folly and the danger of en- deavouring to establish virtue upon any foun- dation but that of true religion. People may tell us that social affection is the law of our being ; they may talk of virtue being its own reward ; they may sing the praises of disin- terested benevolence ; but if you take away the rewards and punishments of the world to come, you set the greatest part of mankind free from every moral obligation, and open a door to universal depravity and corruption of man- ners. If the beauty of virtue is laid in one scale, and interest in the other, it will not be difficult to determine to which side the ba- lance will incline. The accusations of con- science will be little regarded, unless they are considered as an earnest of the worm that never dies. Take away the doctrine of a 38 LECTuui: ni. world to come, and you make tliis world a scene of universal depravity and open wicked- ness. At first view we would be apt to wonder at the ways of Heaven, and perhaps tempt- ed in our minds to arraign the conduct of Pro- vidence, in crowning this worthless and wicked man with wealth and prosperity, whilst all that diversified the good man's lot was scene after scene of poverty and pain. But let us suspend our judgment. We see but one link in the great chain of Providence. We live but in the infancy of being. The great drama of life is but begun. When the catastrophe is brought about, when the curtain between both worlds is undrawn, the morn will arise that will light the Almighty's footsteps in the deep, and pour full day upon all the paths of his providence. Verse 22. And it came to pass that the beg- gar died. He died, and all his miseries died with him. He whom this rich man would have disdained to have considered as his fel- low-creature, had a company of angels sent down to transport him to the regions of the blessed, to the bosom of Abraham, where all his sorrows had an end, and the tears were ON LUKE XVI. 19—31. 39 fur ever wiped from his eyes. Let the needy and the oppressed take consolation from this sahitary doctrine. With God there is no re- spect of persons. Let it be the great busi- ness of vour lives to be rich in faith and in good works, and to lay up treasures in hea- ven, and then you may rejoice in hope, that though you have nothing here, yet your's is the kingdom of God. Verses 23 to 26 inclusive. Before our Sa- viour's incarnation, the Greek language had made its way into Judea. Along with the language of the Greeks, their opinions in phi- losophy, and the fictions of their poetry, had been introduced, and made part of the popu- lar belief This part of the parable which we have now read, is evidently founded upon the fictions of the Grecian poets concerning the state of departed souls. They, as well as our Lord in this parable, represent the abodes of the blessed as lying contiguous to the regions of the damned, and separated only by a great impassable river, or deep gulf, in such a man- ner, that the ghosts could talk with one an- other from its opposite banks. In the par- able, souls, whose bodies were buried, know each other, and converse together, as if they 40 LECTURE iir. had been embodied. In like manner, the heathens introduce departed souls as talking together, and represent them as having pains and pleasures analogous to what we feel in this life ; and they thought that the shades of the dead had an exact resemblance to their bodies. The parable says, that the souls of wicked men are tormented in flames ; the Grecian poets tell us, that they lie in a river of fire, where they suffer the same torments they would have suffered while alive, had their bodies been burnt. From this account, there- fore, we are to draw no inferences concerning the real nature of heaven or of hell. A par- able is no more than an instructive fable or tale, and the only thing to be regarded in it is the moral that it conveys. We cannot there- fore conclude from this parable, that there is material fire in hell, or that the abodes of the blessed and the regions of the damned are con- tiguous to one another. The word of God gives us no materials wherein we can make a description either of hell or heaven. It was never the intention of scripture to satisfy our curiosity, but to influence our practice, and for that purpose to awake our hopes and our fears, by representing the one as being the region of the greatest torment, and the other as the scene of unmingled and everlasting joy. ON LUKE XVI. 19.— 31, 41* The rich man died^ and was buried. We read not of the burial of the poor man. He would be thrown into a common grave, and mingled with vulgar and obscure dust. But the rich man was buried with pomp and with splendour. Crowds of mercenary mourners would attend his funeral, and venal tears be shed upon his tomb. Every amiable and every respectable quality would be ascribed to him by those ready flatterers who have air- ways a character at hand for the deceased of quality. But, insensible to this incense, in hell he lift up his eyes. How astonishing and how awful must it be, my brethren, for a person who believes not in a future state, to receive his first conviction from the flames of the lake which burneth for ever, and from the gnawings of the worm that never dies. The request of the rich man is very reniarkable. He does not acknowledge the justness of his punishment, nor confess the greatness of his sins. He does not shew any remorse of mind for the offences he had committed against God, for the injuries he had done to society, or for the ruin he had brought upon his own soul. He had no sorrow for sin, he had only a feeling of pain. He did not want to be dcr livered from his guilt, but only from punish- 42 LECTURE III. ment. But such had been his character in this world. The fact is, my brethren, we re- tain the same dispositions hereafter, that we cultivate here. It is utterly impossible, that the mere separation of the soul from matter, can make any alteration upon the essential qualities of the soul. We carry to the other world the same qualities, the same temper of mind, and the same character, that we have on earth. What manner of persons doth it become us then to be ? As we now sov/, here- after we reap. Our heaven or our hell is already begun within us. The v/orm that never dies hath already begun to gnaw the heart of the wicked ; Tuud the good man hath already begun those hymns and hosannas of praise, which shall employ him through eter- nity. Son^ remember that thou in thy lifetime receiv- edst thy good things. This ansv/er of the Patri- arch is remarkable for mildness. When a per- son, by his imprudence and folly, hath involved himself in a scene of distress, there is nothing more common than for those who visit him at such a time, to upbraid him with his bypast conduct in the severest manner, and to admini- ster rebukes with acrimony and bitterness. In- stead of giving their assistance to extricate him ON LUKE XVI. 19 — SI. 4S from liis distresses, those miserable comforters push him deeper in the pit, and take a cruel pleasure in adding affliction to the afflicted, conscious, that whilst they are insulting over their unfortunate brother, they are paying en- comiums to their own superior prudence and discretion. This rich man had brought him-* self into the last of evils, into an evil that ad- mitted of no remedy, by his own wickedness. Yet Abraham did not address him in this se- vere and insulting language. He calls him 507?, his descendant according to the flesh. The good Patriarch wanted not to add to the hor- rors of hell. The spirit of rage and rancour never gains admittance into the bosoms of the blessed. This shews us how different the meek, the gentle, and the benevolent temper is from that cruel and merciless zeal which often pass- eth for it upon earth. His own petition being refused, the rich man now applies for his relations. Verse 27. Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that thou wouldst send htm to my father s house. Let no wicked man boast himself of possessing some virtues amid the number of his crimes. You see there is even some goodness in hell. The rich man retained still some affection for his brethren, and had a desire for their conversion. 44 LECTURE Til. Though they had been partakers with him in his sins, he did not want them to be partakers of his punishment. The repetition of the re- quest shews he was in earnest. Verse 31. Neither will they he persuaded^ though one rose from the dead. As this is a point of great consequence, it requires to be iUus- trated at some length. Let us suppose, that in order to convince a person of the immor- tahty of his soul, Almighty God sent one of his deceased friends, either in his unembodied state, or with the same body he had in life. As no person would require such a proof, but one who was very much addicted to scepticism, it is very probable, that even then his doubts would not be removed. He might say, per- haps this may be an impostor, perhaps it may be some evil spirit who has assumed the shape of my deceased friend. But let us suppose, that these doubts are re- moved, that he is convinced of the reality of the apparition, and the truth of a future state. Let us then see what effect It would have upon his life. He goes into company. He tells the story of the apparition to his companions. They hear it with derision and ridicule, and consider him as a visionary enthusiast, disturb- ox LUKE XVI. J 9—31. 45 ed in his imagination. As the experience of all mankind is against him, and the laws ap- pear to be fixed for ever, of no intercourse be- tween this w^orld and the next, in whatever companies he tells it, it meets with the same treatment ; and all the effect of the apparition is, that it makes every one to conclude him to be beside himself. You all know how diffi- cult it is to remain single in opinion against the whole world. It is still harder to become the object of laughter and ridicule ; so that with these difficulties in his way, it is ten to one but he falls in with the opinion of the world, and believes the apparition to have been the phantom of his own fancy. That this is not a mere conjecture, but what would really happen, appears from undoubted matter of fact, that did really happen. You remem- ber the history of Saul. When the Lord would not answer him by his prophets, he went in quest of a woman who had a familiar spirit. She raised up to him an apparition, which he believed to be the ghost of Samuel the prophet. The apparition assured him that his kingdom was departed from him, and that he had only one day longer to live. What ef- fect had this upon the king ? did he repent of his sins ? At first he was sore afraid, and was 46 LECTURE III. melancholy; but through the persuasion of his attendants, he soon resumed his joy ; and, on the morrow after the battle was lost, in or- der to fulfil the prophecy of the devil, he pro- ceeded to commit the most deliberate crime that can be perpetrated by man : He raised impious hands against his life, and plunged his sword in his own breast. The fact is, my brethren, mankind are not always in a mood to be convinced. In spite of speculative opinion, men act from their passions, and bad passions will always produce bad actions, to the end of the world. The re- luctance of mankind to assent to evidence, when it makes against their preconceived opi- nion, is remarkably apparent in the recep- tion the Jews gave to our Saviour. All tlie prophecies concerning the Messiah were ful- filled in him. He appeared in the world in the precise time predicted for the coming of the Messiah ; he was descended of the line- age of David; he was born in the city of Bethlehem. A prophet went before him in the spirit and power of Elias. He performed miracles and mighty works, which no man could perform. But after all these proofs, af- ter all these miracles, the Jews, who expected their Messiah to be a temporal Prince, still de- ON LUKE XVI. 19—31. 47 manded more evidence. '* Shew us," said they, " a sign from heaven." A sign from heaven they obtained. Now, in the presence of multitudes, a voice came from heaven, the voice of the Eternal, piercing the clouds, and proclaiming aloud, ^' This is my beloved Son !" Were they then convinced ? No : They per- secuted him with reproaches in his life, and at last brouo'ht him to an imiominious death. And when they had nailed him to the accurs- ed tree, they still affirmed they would believe on him on proper evidence. " Let him come " down from the cross, and we will believe on '^ him." If he had come down from the cross, the redemption of mankind would have been defeated, as it was to be accomplished by his death ; but he did more than come down from the cross. He rose from the dead. Did they then believe on him ? No : They charged the soldiers who brought them the news of his re- surrection, to give out that his disciples stole him away while they slept. Well then may we adopt the maxim of the Patriarch Abraham, and affirm, that if ye believe not Moses and the Prophets ; if ye believe not Christ and his Apostles ; ye will not be persuaded though one rose from the dead. LECTURE IV. ON THE PARABLE OF THE FOOLISH VIRGINS. Matthew xxv» 1 — 10. 1 Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins^ which took their lamps^ and went forth to meet the bridegroom. 2 And Jive of them were wise, and Jive were foolish. 3 They that were foolish took their lampSy and took no oil with them : 4 But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps* 5 While the bridegroom tarried^ they all slum- bered and slept. 6 And at midnight there was a cry made^ Be- hold^ the bridegroom cometh ; go ye out to meet him. 7 Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. 8 And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil, for our lamps are gone out, 9 But the wise answered, saying, Not so; lest ON MATTHEW XXV. I.—IO. 49 there be not enough for us and you ; but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. 10 And while they went to buy, the bridegroom ca?ne ; and they that were ready went in with him to the ma?Tiage ; and the door was shut. In a former lecture, I explained to you the nature, the origin, and the use of parables. They were the common vehicles of instruc- tion among the oriental nations. The wisdom of the East loved to go adorned with flowers and with figures, and, by means of the imagi- nation, to make its way to the heart. This mode of instruction was frequently honoured by our Lord's adopting it. Accommodating himself to the practice of the East, and to the manners of the Jews, he wrapt up his wisdom in this veil, and delivered his doctrines to the people in parables. As men are much under the guidance of the external senses, and strong- ly impressed by the material objects around them, he who knew what was in man, and who laid hold of every avenue to the human heart, frequently addressed himself to this part of our frame. He spiritualizes the whole sys- tem of nature ; he turns the most common and familiar occurrences of life into vehicles of Di- VOL. II. D 50 LECTURE IV. vine truth ; and in the gentlest and most in- sinuating manner, leads us from earth to hea- ven. In the parable which I have now read, the kingdom of Heaven, or dispensation of the Gospel, is likened to a marriage solemnity. On such occasions it was a custom among the Jews, that the bridegroom, in company with his friends, came late in the night to the house of the bride, where, upon a signal given, she and her bride-maids went out in procession to light him into the house with great cere- mony and splendour. It is said that Jive of these virgins were wise, and that Jive of them were foolish. I explained to you, on a former occa- sion, that, in a parable, we are not to apply particular expressions, but to consider the in- tention and design upon the whole. If we understood and applied this expression literal- ly, we would be led to conclude that, under the New Testament, the number of the good and of the bad was equal. But to settle this point, to ascertain the number of those who are to be saved, and of those who are to be damned, was not the intention of our Lord in the parable. For, by the same way of argu- ing, we might infer from the parable of the talents, which immediately follows this, that ON MATTHKW XXV. 1—10. 51 the number of the good was double the num- ber of the wicked, as there were two faithful servants who improved the talents committed to them, for one slothful servant who wrapt up his in a napkin ; and in the parable of the marriage supper, in the foregoing chapter, amongst all the number of the guests who were called to the feast, there was only one who wanted the wedding garment : Only from this general scheme of thought, which runs through all our Lord's parables, from their being always framed with a view to the chari- table side, we may safely draw two conclusions. In ihe^first place, Let us always form a favour- able judgment concerning the character and state of those who are externally decent, whether they agree or differ from us in opi- nion ; and, if we do err, let us err on the side of charity. There are a set of men to be found in the world, wdio are remarkably fond of pass- ing sentence and judgment upon the exter- nal state of their neighbours, and in passing this judgment, they attend not so much to the general tenor of life, and integrity of conduct, as to the system of doctrines which a man be- lieves, and the sect or party in which he ar- ranges himself. Unless you believe in every d2 52 I.ECTURE IV^ point precisely as they do, down you go in their estimation. Rash and profane mortal, who gave thee a commission to fix the mark of election and re- probation upon men ? Did Almighty God de- pute thee to draw the line betwixt the kingdom of darkness and the kingdom of light, to fill the heavens, and to people hell ? We are as- tonished, and stand aghast at the boldness and impiety of the Roman Pontiff, who pretends to open and to shut the gate of mercy, and who arrogates to himself the keys of the king- dom of heaven. And yet thou who accusest him, art thyself equally guilty. Thou rushest unto the throne of the Eternal, and darest to direct the thunders of the Divine vengeance. Thou prescribest bounds to the mercy of the Omnipotent, and sayest to his saving grace, " Hitherto shalt thou come, and no farther.'* Vile worm ! dost thou not tremble at thine own impiety ? Fall prostrate in the dust. Shrink into thine own insignificance. Let thy time be employed in working out thine own salvation, rather than in dealing of dam- nation to thy neighbours. At the same time, though I condemn this rage which some men discover to condemn their neighbours, as, in my opinion, entirely ON MATTHEW XXV. 1.— 10. 53 inconsistent with the genius of the Gospel, and the Spirit of Christianity, nevertheless I would not go into their extreme, and pass the same sentence on them which they pass upon others. To pass a judgment upon characters is a difficult task, and requires a very delicate hand. We ought to distinguish what flows from a narrowness of mind from what flows from a badness of heart. We ought to make great allowances for the pre- judices of education. If a man be educated in the belief, that none are to be saved but those who believe every article of that system which he embraces ; if his judgment concerning the characters of men rest not upon the goodness of their lives, but upon the sound- ness of their belief, such a man's charity must be narrow and constrained. And this may sometimes be owing, not to the badness of his nature, but to the badness of his religious principles. And I have sometimes seen such persons, though I must acknowledge very rare* ly, striving and struggling to get the better of their system ; — the heart and the affections true to Christianity, whilst the mind was en- slaved by the prejudices of education. Vehse 3. I'licy that were foolish took their 54 LECTURE IV. lampSj and took no oil with fkem. The foolish virgins seemed at first to resemble the v^ise, and shone out for a while with the same lus- tre. They made the same profession and ap- pearance at first. Themselves were awake, and their lamps were burning. But they had no supply for the future. Their goodness was like the morning cloud, and soon vanish- ed away. They had no real religion in the heart. They wanted that inward principle of grace, which can alone enable us to stand fast in the Lord. They were not rooted and grounded in the faith. They had no steady principles of conduct, nor settled habits of ac- tion. Like the seed which was sown in the stony ground, they forthwith sprung up, be- cause they had no deepness of earth, and. when the sun arose, they withered away. But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. They sought and obtained the in- fluences of the Divine Spirit to abide with them through life. They made a serious bu- siness of religion. They laid up a store of useful knowledge. They acted upon fixed and steady principles, and acquired habits of religion and virtue. They kept the heart well, knowing that out of it are the issues of life. They looked forward to the time to ON MATTHEW XXV. 1 — 10. 65 come ; they provided against the evil day, and extended their view to take in all the temptations and afflictions of human life. Verse 5. While the bridegroom tarried^ they all slumbered and slept. Whether we interpret this coming of the bridegroom to be the se- cond coming of our Lord to judge the world, or whether we apply it to our appearance be- fore his tribunal at death, is a subject of no consequence ; the material point to be consi- dered is, that while the bridegroom tarried, all of them, the wise as well as the foolish virgins, slumbered and slept. The wise grew remiss and careless, and the spiritual life de- clined within them. The foolish virgins re- turned again to fooUshness ; and, because the Lord delayed, because sentence against an evil work was not speedily executed, were fuUv bent to do evil. Seeino; then that the w^ise virgins slumbered as well as the foolish ; seeing that good men, as well as bad men, may fall into sin ; a question, a very serious one, naturally arises : How shall we distinguish between those temporary relaxations in the Christian race, into which a good man may fall, from the final apostacy of the wicked ; how shall we distinguish between the sins of 56 LECTUUE IV. infirmity into which the best men may fall, from those sins which are unto death ? And to this I beg your attention, as one of the most important subjects which can ever occu- py your thoughts. In order to decide this question. Let me ask you, in the Jirst place, What was the nature of your relapse into sin? There are times in which all men feel religi- ous impressions and devout dispositions of mind. The seed is sown in stony places, as well as on the good ground. The influences of heaven descend on the barren desert, as well as on the field which is to be fruitful. On such occasions the seed which was sown on the stony places will spring up for a time, and the barren desert will seem to bloom. To speak without a figure, the Spirit of God, in one manner or another, in his common or in his special influences, descends upon all men. After such times of refreshing, the saint of a day, as well as the persevering Christian, will receive the word with gladness, and set about a thorough reformation. And as both of them receive the word with gladness, so both of them are subject to sin. Yet they are not alike in their errors. The sinner having no real principle at bottom, having no fixed plan of liie, and but doing every thing ON MATTHEW XXV. 1— 10. 57 by fits and starts, may, at the first approach of temptation, advance with swift steps to ruin. But the true Christian, laying his ac- count to meet with hardships and temptations, prepares against them, and will not wholly fall off. llie coward may at once desert his post, and fly from the banners of the Captain of salvation, to the standard of the prince of darkness : but the good soldier of Jesus will make head against the enemy ; he will en- counter his spiritual foe ; he may be foiled for a moment, but he will never be subdued. In the second place. Let me ask you, what is the state of your mind during these relap- ses ? Are you in total subjection to the sins which have dominion over you? Is your conscience lulled in a profound sleep ? Do you roll iniquity, like a sweet morsel, under your tongue ? Do you find the ways of sin to be ways of pleasantness, and all her paths to be peace ? Is your bondage sweet, and are the chains of your captivity become pleasant to you ? Then I pronounce that there are no symptoms of spiritual life within you ; then your sleep is unto death. But, on the other hand, is the dominion which sin has over you, against the bent of your soul ? Whilst you sleep, docs your heart wake ? During your 58 LECTURE IV. captivity, is your face towards Jerusalem? Do you lament the deceitfulness of your heart, the feebleness of your resolutions, and your ovv^n impotence to save yourself? Do you strive to burst asunder the bands which detain you ? Then there is hope in Israel concern- ing you. In the third place, Let me ask you, what is the nature of the sins into which you fall ? Are they contrived before hand, deliberate? Do you commit them with coolness and with consideration ? Or are you led astray on a sudden by the strength of temptation, and the power of prevailing passion ? The best of men are subject to the impulse of passion ; may yield to the strength of temptation, and be overtaken in a fault. But he is a wicked man who sins upon a plan ; who makes a system of iniquity ; who contrives scenes of mischief upon his bed, and who rises to ex- ecute with ardour what he has contrived with coolness. If the sun goes down upon thy wrath, or any other bad passion ; if day unto day uttereth speech of your evil deeds ; if night after night findeth you in the service of sin, then you are a sinner indeed, then you are in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity. ON MATTHEW XXV. I.— IO. 59 Let me ask asjain, What are the sins that most easily beset you ? The sins of men may be divided into two classes. The one kind flows from a good principle wrong directed, from the perversion and abuse of laudable in- clinations ; the other kind flows from evil principles and a bad heart. Of the latter kind, are malice, envy, treachery, cruelty, malig- nity, deceit, and hypocrisy. These indicate a mind which neither fears God nor regards man. The best Christians will at times fall into sins ; but they will never harbour in their heart the dark offspring of hell. They may have the failings and the faults of men, but they will never have the crimes of devils, nor the spirit of the damned. Verse 6. At midnight there was a cry heard. At midnight, the hour of silence and repose, when the operations of nature seemed to stand still, and all things were at rest, when there was no expectation of any event, then was the cry heard, then was the alarm given,— Behold, the bridegroom cometh, go ye out to meet him ! And, indeed, my brethren, it often hap- pens, that our last hour comes unexpected. When we are busied in some favourite scheme, when we are laying a scene of happiness which 60 LECTUUE IV. we expect will last for years, the awful voice comes, " This night thy soul shall be requir- *^ ed of thee." I mention not this as if I thought it one of the evils of life. If we are prepared to die, a sudden death must be the most agreeable of all. The servant who is doing his duty, will be agreeably surprised at an unexpected visit from his master. The soldier, whose arms are crowned with con- quest, would be happy if his prince should suddenly come to be the witness of his vic- tory. Verse 7. Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. Their lamps were not gone out, though they were not burning bright. They soon arose and trimmed them, to meet the bridegroom. A good man is always ha- bitually prepared for death. He has an inte- rest in the righteousness of his Redeemer, which purchased life and immortality to men; and he is possessed of those good and holy dispositions which fit us for the inheritance of the saints in light. Such a person is ever in a state of preparation to meet with his Lord. Verse 8. And the foolish virgins said unto the wise, Give its of your oiL Mark here, my ON MATTHEW XXV. I. — 10. 61 brethren, the triumph of religion. Wicked men at the last envy the state and the happiness of the good, and desire to partake in it. There is a time coming when those who scoff at re- ligion, and laugh at every thing that is serious, will gladly say to those humble and contrite ones whom they now despise, " Give us of " your oil." " Let us die the death of the " righteous ; let our last end be like his." " Would to God our souls were in your souls* "place." Feeble and ineffectual wishes! which discover their misery, but which cannot save them from it. Verse 9. Lest there be not enough for us and you. There are no works of supererogation. After we have done all, we are unprofitable servants ; and though we were perfect, we can assign no part of our righteousness to you : Go to those that sell. Go to the ordinances of Di- vine appointment; improve those means of grace which you formerly despised ; break off your sins by repentance ; who knows if it be yet too late ? — Ccetera desunt. LECTURE V. ON THE TRANSFIGURATION OF JESUS CHRIST, Luke ix. 28—36. 28 And it came to pass, about an eight days after these sayings, he took Peter, and John, and James, and went up into a mountain to pray. 29 And as he prayed, the fashion of his coun- tenance was altered, and his raiment was white and glistering. 30 And behold there talked with him two men^ which were Moses and Elias ; 31 Who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 But Peter, and they that were with him, were heavy with sleep: and when they were awake, they saw Ids glory, and the two men that stood with him. 33 And it came to jjass, as they departed from him, Peter said unto Jesus, Master, it is good for us to be here; and let us make three tabernacles^ one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias : not knowing x our sins. It consists in denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, and abounding in the fruits of righteous- ness unto eternal life. I do not mean by this, that any man in this life is altogether free from sin. Imperfec- tions cleave to the best. Who can say that he has made his hands clean, or his heart pure ? Good men oft-times may be off their guard ; they may be surprised in the hour of tempta- tion, and be overtaken in a fault ; but they will never sin upon a plan ; they will never make a system of iniquity ; they will not deliberate- ly concert plots of wickedness upon their beds, and rise up to execute with warmth what they have contrived with coolness. The grace of God does not act by fits and starts ; is not a ON UEPENTANCE. 113 transient, but an abiding principle. The Chris- tian is fixed and immoveable, and abounding in the work of the Lord. He is not of those apostates, mentioned by the Apostle Jude, who resemble the morning clouds, that are ever varying their form, and are carried about with every wind; who resemble wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of dark- ness for ever. But he advances from strength to strength ; his path is like the light of the morning, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day, Tliere is one other part of repentance which I have not yet mentioned, and which merits your serious attention ; that is, making resti- tution and reparation, as far as lies in your power, for the evils you have done. " If I have wronged any man," said Zaccheus when he repented," lo, I restore him fourfold." Have you wronged any man in his property ? Have you taken away his goods ? Make resti- tution. Have you wronged any man in his repu- tation ? Have you taken away his good name ? Make reparation : Confess that you was a de- famer : Confess that you was a liar. Have you offended and injured anyone? Ask his for- giveness. Let no false shame hinder you from doing your duty. You have good cause VOL. II. H 114 ON REPENTANCE. to be ashamed. Be always ashamed to of- fend ; but never bUish for your returning vir- tue. Let no false shame, therefore, no foolish obstinacy, no pride of heart, prevent you from a thorough reformation. Better be exposed to sliame here, than be doomed hereafter to everlasting pains. The second thing proposed, was, — To lay before you the motives to repentance. And, in thej^r^^ place, — The superior light and information derived to the world by the Christian religion, concerning the rule of righteousness according to which we ought to conduct our lives, suggests a strong motive and inducement to repentance. God indeed never left himself without a witness in the world. He made the firmament bright with his glory, and commanded the heavens, with all their host, to declare his handiwork. With his own finger he inscribed the laws of justice and of virtue upon the heart of man. Atten- tive to this voice of God v/ithin, and assisted by those impressions of Divinity without, the moral teachers among the Gentiles struck out many useful discoveries, and taught many va- luable lessons of wisdom to the world. They wandered not in the dark concerning the es- ox RrPFXTANCF. 1 1 . > i sentials of natural religion. Tliey were not ignorant of the chief duties of life. The in- visible things of God, even his eternal power and Godhead, they discovered by the works of creation ; and having the law of nature written in their hearts, they were a law unto themselves. But the defect which they la- boured under, was the want of authority to en- force the discoveries which they made, and the want of a proper sanction to the rules of life which they established. When keen and violent, the passions of men push them for- ward ; they will not be restrained by the voice of reason and philosophy. On these occa- sions, men will reply to such an instructor, " Who gave thee a commission to teach and reform the world ? Did the voice of Heaven come to thine ears ? Who invested thee with authority and dominion over the mind ? Who appointed thee instructor of the nations, and legislator of the moral world ?" The heathen teachers could pretend to no such authority. But Jesus of Nazareth was invested with a divine commission. Pie descended from hea- ven to teach the will of God upon earth. He performed miracles in confirmation of his religion. He set the seal of heaven to the doctrines which he taught, and guarded H 2 116 ON REPENTANCE. the laws which he established with the sanc- tion of rewards and punishments. Such was the difference betwixt a human teacher and a prophet of the Lord ; and such ought to be the difference betwixt the Hves of heathens and the conduct of Christians. What signi- fies the superior excellency of your religion, unless its superiority appear in your life? What avails the light to you, if ye continue to walk in darkness ? Unless ye repent, it had been better for you that the kingdom of God had never come amongst you. If ye still walk in the region and shadow of death, it had been better that the day-spring from on high had never risen over your benighted land. The heathens shall rise up in judgment against you, and shall condemn you. It shall be more tole- rable in the day of judgment for the inhabit- ants of Sodom and Gomorrah, those cities of sin, those monuments of the vengeance of God to all succeeding times ; it shall be more to- lerable for these, than for those wicked Chris- tians, who have disregarded the voice which spoke from heaven ; who have profaned that blessed name by which they were called ; and who, by their obstinacy and impenitence, have counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith they were sanctified, an unholy thing. ON REPENTANCE. 117 A second motive and encouragement to re- pentance, is the hope and prospect of success. Before the introduction of Christianity, when the world lay in darkness as well as in wicked- ness, a sense of guilt burdening the conscience, and a dread of future punishment as conse- quent upon that guilt, drove the nations to a variety of expedients, in order to avert the vengeanceof Heaven, and make an atonement for their sins. Hence various rites and cere- monies were instituted. Hence so many sa- crifices were offered up, and so much blood was shed. Reason indeed could have told them that these means were unavailable ; that the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of a heifer, could never take away sin. But reason could not assure them, that any other means, that even their repentance, would be effectual to that end. Here Revelation steps in to our aid. The Gospel assures us, that the wrath of God is not onlv averted from men, that He is not only reconciled, but also that he is a God in Christ reconciling the world unto himself. The gate of mercy is set open by the blood of Jesus ; and an inherit- ance that is incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, is promised to all those who sincerely repent of their sins, to alJ who be- 118 ON REPENTANX'F. lieve and obey the Gospel. He that confesseth and returneth shall find mercy. The sacrifices of God are a broken heart and a contrite spi- rit ; a broken and a contrite heart the Lord will not despise. 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 humble and " contrite spirit, and who trembleth at my " word." Seeing then that the favour of God, and all the blessings of the new covenant, are promised to true repentance, will you, by your impenitence and unbelief, cut yourselves off from these blessings ? When such strong con- solation is offered, will you not fly for refuge to the hope set before you ? When heaven is opened for your reception, will you refuse to enter in ? When the fruits of the tree of life are presented to you, will you not put forth your hand, and take and eat, and live for ever ? A third motive to repentance is the assist- ance of the Spirit, which the Gospel offers. Christianity is called the ministration of the Spirit. The effusion of the Holy Ghost on the day of Pentecost upon the Apostles, which en- abled them to speak all languages, and to work miracles, was extraordinary, and intended to cease with that age. But the heavenly Com- ON UEPENTANCE. 119 forter still abides with all tlie disciples of Christ, to guide them into all truth, and incline them to the practice of every duty. The prophet Zechariah, foretelling the glory of the latter days, or times of the Messiah, says, '' It shall " come to pass in those days, that I will pom* "' out upon the house of David, and upon the *« inhabitants of Jerusalem, the Spirit of grace " and of supplication, and they shall look up- '' on me whom they have pierced, and they " shall mourn and be in bitterness." The Spirit of grace and of supplication then pour- ed out abundantly, shall impress men with sorrow and contrition for their sin ; shall in- cline them to renounce their former sinful ways, to repent of their past transgressions, and to walk in newness of life. This opera- tion of the Divine Spirit upon the mind, does not impel men to action by mechanical influ- ence, and obstruct the exercise of their natu- ral powers. The grace of God does not turn man into a machine. It draws him, as the Scripture happily expresses it, with the cords of love, and with the bonds of a man. It acts in such a manner as is adapted to the powers of a rational being, and to the liberty of a free agent. When such gracious aids are offered to US; when the spirit of God strives iu order 1^0 ON REPENTANCE. to reclaim and reform us, it must be a high aggravation of our wickedness to resist his operations, and by our hardness and impe- nitence of heart, to treasure up wrath against the day of wrath, and revelation of the righ- teous judgment of God, Wliat more could the good husbandman have done to his vine- yard than he has done ? He calls upon you to repentance by the voice of nature ; he calls you by the voice of reason ; he calls you by the voice of providence ; he calls you by the voice which spake from heaven : He sends down his Holy Spirit to second these Divine calls, to help your infirmities, to enlighten your darkness, to strengthen your feeble powers, and to w^ork in you both to will and to do that which is his good pleasure. Not only does he prepare the crown of glory, but he also as- sists vou to fio:ht the 2:ood fi2;ht, and to finish your course, that you may obtain that crown. Not only does he open the heavens to receive you, but he also stretches out his hands to con- duct you thither. And if, after all, you resist his Holy Spirit ; if you counterwork his sav- ing plan ; if you defeat the efforts of mercy, the labours of Heaven used for your recovery, your guilt is upon your own head, your ruin is owing to yourselves, with your own hand ON UEPENTANCJi:. 121 you push yourselves over the brink into the pit of utter perdition. In the fourth place, as an inducement to re- pentance, consider the cross of Christ, who suffered the punishment due to our sins. How great must be the evil of sin, and how strong the obligation for us to repent of our sins, when such a sacrifice was required in order to expiate our guilt, and atone the wrath of Heaven. Burnt-offerings, thousands of rams, and ten thousands of rivers of oil, the first- born offered up for the transgression, the fruit of the body for the sin of the soul, could not suf- fice. The Lamb of God could alone take away the sin of the world. Look then on him whom thou hast pierced, and mourn. Every groan that he utters, every tear that he sheds, every drop of blood that he pours, calls thee to re- pentance. View him stretched out on the cross, groaning under the pains of death, in- clining his blessed head, and addressing his last words to you, " Sinners, behold your Sa- viour ! behold him who was persecuted by Sa- tan and by wicked men ; behold him who was forsaken by God ; behold this head which was crowned with thorns ; behold these hands which were nailed to the tree ; behold this side which was wounded with the spear ; behold 122 ON REPENTANCE. tlie blood that flows from every part ; sinner, it was shed for you !" Canst thou, O man ! be- hold that scene without emotion ? Canst thou continue impenitent in the practice of those sins, which brought thy Saviour to that pain- ful and ignominious death ? Lastly^ It is another motive to repentance, that God ^' has appointed a day in the which " he will judge the world," as is mentioned in the verse following the text. That the soul of man survives the body, that there is a state of rewards and punishments beyond the grave, has been the general belief among all nations* Testimonies of this truth everywhere abound. Whether we turn to the east or to the west ; whether we consult the historv of ancient or of modern times ; whether we listen to the ac- counts of the old world or of the new, we are presented with proofs and evidences of this important doctrine. How this opinion came to be so general, as to form an article in the popular creed of all nations, is a question of some difficulty. To those who have no guide but the light of nature, and who have no su- pernatural aids to assist the efforts of their own understanding, the arguments on both sides seem to be so equally balanced, tliat, upon principles of reasoning, it is almost impossible ON JIEPENTANCE. 123 to come to any determination. But, in all in- quiries concerning human nature, we ought to attend to the heart more than to the under- standing. Man is oilener guided by sentiment and feeling, than by abstract reasoning. Al- mighty God hath endowed us with a sense of moral good and evil. He hath placed within us a principle of conscience, which passeth judgment upon human actions, approving the good, and condemning the bad. This tells us, that in the Divine administration it ought to be well with the righteous and ill with the wicked. In confirmation of this, we see that by the original appointment of Heaven, and in the daily course of Providence, there is no peace to the wicked, and that they have great peace who love the law of the Lord. At the same time, we frequently observe in the course of human affairs, that the lot of the wicked falls to the righteous. We see many instan- ces in life of good men depressed, and of bad men exalted; of vice holding a sceptre, and virtue pining in chains. How often have we seen the best of men reduced to eat the bread of sorrow, and to drink the waters of afflic- tion, whilst the worthless and the infamous have rioted in the abundance of life, and enjoy- ed what their hearts could wish. When such 124 ON REPENTANCE. scenes are presented to our eyes, our heart rises within us. Shall it always continue thus, we say within ourselves, shall it always conti- nue thus in a world that is governed by God ? Shall oppressed righteousness never be taken into the protection of Providence, and trium- phant wickedness never fall under his cen- sure ? Shall the cry of the innocent, of the oppressed, and of the persecuted, never reach the throne of justice? Are the wrongs and grievances of the good and the righteous, the wrongs and grievances which they have suffer- ed in the cause of goodness and of righteous- ness, never to be redressed? Is wickedness finally to triumph over oppressed virtue ; to triumph over the laws of nature ; to triumph over the providence of Heaven ? Will the time never come when the Almighty shall rise from his throne to adjust and rectify the af- fairs of the moral world ? If not in this, cer- tainly in some future state, he will assume the part of a Judge, to reward the just, and to take vengeance upon the wicked. All this has at last been fully revealed. It was reserved to the Divine Prophet, who came from the bosom of the Father to bring life and immortality to light by his Gospel. He taught that God had appointed a day in which he was ON REPENTANCE, 125 to judge the world ; that the dead were to be raised, and all that ever lived upon the earth to appear at his tribunal. Of this doctrine he gave assurance unto all men by his own resur- rection from the dead; and as surely as he arose, shall we at the time appointed arise. When the mystery of God is finished the last trumpet will sound. The voice of the Son of God will pierce the caverns of the tomb, will be heard over the kingdoms of the dead, will reanimate the ashes of thousands of generations, and sist an assembled world at the seat of judgment. By the unalterable appointment of Heaven, every thing has its period. The cedar of Le- banon fades away like the leaf upon its top. Lebanon itself decays in the course of years. States and empires have their day, like mortal man. Limits are set to time, and the world has its last hour. A few generations more having passed away, the day comes which God hath appointed to judge the world ; the great day for which all other days have revolved. When this period approaches, heaven opens wide its everlasting doors, and behold the Judge comes forth ! He comes in the glory of his Father ; in the effulgence of unveiled Di- vinity he comes, attended with all the host of heaven ! Before Iiim the harbinger of his ap- 126 ON RKPEXTANCE. pearance, the destroying angel of nature de- scends, clothed with a cloud, having his face like the sun, and his feet hke pillars of fire. He sets his right foot upon the sea, and his left foot upon the earth ; he lifts up his hand to heaven, and swears " by him that liveth for " ever and ever, that time shall be no more !" As the doom of nature is denomiced, the thun- ders of heaven for the last time utter their voices : the laws of nature are dissolved ; the stars fall from the firmament ; the moon is turned into blood ; and that sun, whose beams you now behold, sinks in the darkness of eter- nal night ; the earth hears its last sentence, and shakes to the centre ; the four corners of the world hear it ; all that are alive hear it ; all the dead hear it, and live ; from the presence of their Creator, the heavens depart like a scroll rolling itself together ; the earth vanishes, and there is no place found for it ; every mountain and every island is fled ; creation fades away to give place to uncreated glory ; the great tri- bunal is erected ; the books are opened ; the judge descends ; the world is assembled ; the sentence is pronounced ; the sentence is exe- cuted : down to the prison of darkness and de- spair, the habitation of unquenchable and ever- lasting fire, the wicked are driven, where, bound ON UEPENTAXCE. 127 in chains, they feel tlie torment of the worm that never dies, and suffer in the flames of the lake whose smoke ascendeth up for ever and ever ; whilst enthroned in glory above, and adorned with the beauties of immortality, the righteous ascend with their Lord, and approach- ing to the fountain of life, partake of those pleasures at the right hand of God, which shall occupy and animate the praises of eternity. Let me now ask you, my brethren, do yon believe what you have now heard ? Do you be- lieve that there is a judgment to come, and that each of you shall bear a part in that tre- mendous scene? I appeal to a witness that can- not lie. I appeal to your own conduct. Do you live and act in such a manner as becomes those who have one day to answer for their lives and their actions ? Is your conversation in heaven, from whence you look for the Savi- our and the Judge ? Are your loins girt about, your lamps burning, and you yourselves like unto men who wait for the coming of their Lord ? Were the general judgment now to be- gin, were these heavens to open, and the sign of the Son of Man to appear overhead, could you face his tribunal ? Could you lift up your heads with confidence and joy amidst the ruins of nature, and the crash of a dissolving world ? 128 ON REPENTANCE. If not, I call upon you to repent, and reform your lives. You are still under the adminis- tration of grace, and have the hope of glory set before you. Heaven and immortality are in your offer. God graciously calls you to re- pentance and newness of life. The Spirit helps your infirmities, and strives to conquer the stubbornness of your spirits. But he will not always thus wait to be gracious. Your day of grace does not last for ever. If mercy reclaims you not, you are delivered over to the hands of justice. If you reject the golden sceptre when it is held out to you, a rod of iron suc- ceeds to destroy the children of disobedience. Repent you must, in one form or other. If your sins affect you not with sorrow and con- trition here, they will fill you with unavailable remorse and despair hereafter. You must ei- ther be affected with the kindly emotions of that repentance which is unto life, or be tor- mented with the stings of the worm that ne- ver dies. Knowing these terrors, we endeavour to persuade men. Happy for men, if they would endeavour to be persuaded ! If these things, my brethren, which you have been now hear- ing, be true ; if it be true that we shall be raised up at the last day ; that the day ofjudg- ON REPENTANCE. 129 ment shall as surely arise as this morning arose^ in obedience to laws which can no more fail to bring it forth than the sun could this morn- ing refuse to arise at the command of its Crea- tor ; if it be true that all of us who are here assembled shall be assembled again around the judgment-seat of God; if it be true that this is our only state of probation, and that life and death are now in our choice, that heaven and hell are now set before us ; if these things be true, (and true they are, otherwise this book is a collection of fables,) if these things be true^ — -then, O my brethren, what manner of per- sons ought we to be ! — then, O my God, what manner of persons ought we to be ! VOL, II, SERMON III, ON THE DANCER OF DELAYING REPENTANCE. 2 Cor. vi. % — Behold^ 710XID is the accepted time ; behold^ now is the day of salvation. There is not a man upon the earth but who has some sense of religion upon his mind, and intends one day or another to work out his salvation. When we look into the world, we find that all men are just about to reform. However loose in their principles, however profligate in their lives, they seriously purpose to amend their conduct, and the sinner of to- day resolves to be a saint to-morrow. Seeing then that all men are so favourably disposed towards reho-ion ; seeino; that all men are in earnest one day to repent ; how does it come to pass that so many men never repent ; that such multitudes live and die in their sins ? It ox DELAYING REPENTANCE. 131 is because they delay their repentance ; it is because they put oft' the day of salvation ; be- cause they begin not a course of reformation, but are only about to reform. This infatua- tion is not confined to the inexperience of our early years ; it extends through every period of life. In this the hoary head is no wiser than the youth of yesterday ; and the same lying spirit that deceived us at twenty, is be- lieved at threescore and ten. In this experi- ence does not make us wise, and when we buy instruction it avails us not. The fool who, wanting to cross the river, lay down on its bank till the waters all ran by, is but a just emblem of that man who delays his repentance from time to time, who is ahvays purposing but ne- ver performing, and who, neither warned by the past, nor alarmed for the future, purposes on to the last, and dies the same. Such is the life which numbers of men lead in the world, spending the prime and vigour of their life in vain pursuits ; letting all their religion evapo- rate in empty resolutions, till, in an hour in which they are not aware, the warning is given: at midniglit is the cry made, and when they seek to enter in with the bridegroom, tlie door is shut ! That you may understand the expressions I 2 132 ON THE DANGER OF made use of in the text, I must recall to your remembrance, that in the language of Scrip- ture, the period of our probation is called a time, a season, or a day. There is an accept- ed time, there is a season of merciful visitation, there is a day of grace, which, if we let slip, the night cometh, in which no man can work, in which we shall grope for the wall like the blind, in which we shall stumble at noon-day as in the night, and be in desolate places as dead men. This does not arise from a defect of mercy in God, from a defect of merit in Christ, or from a defect of grace in the Holy Spirit ; it arises from ourselves and from the nature of things. Almighty God hath appoint- ed this life to be our state of probation. He hath set apart a time to fix the character for eternity. When, therefore, by repeated acts, and by long habits, this everlasting character is fixed, no alteration can succeed. To give an instance that may have occurred to the ob- servation of you all; yon have seen, or you have heard of, criminals who have been train- ed up from their youth in the practice of vice, who have advanced from lesser to greater crimes, who have been punished according to law, who have been imprisoned, who have been banished, who have returned from banish- DELAYING llEl>KNTAx\CE. \33 ment, and for greater crimes have been con- demned to die, who, from some artifice or in- cident have escaped in the critical moment, and who, instead of being reformed by all these punishments, have fallen into the same crimes again, and even grown bolder in wick- edness. There have indeed been instances of great sinners who have turned penitents, and been good Christians ; but it is much to be questioned if there be any such instances among those who have been long sinners, who have committed iniquity, not by fits and starts, but upon a fixed and determined plan, who have spent in the service of sin all the fire of youth and coolness of age. Having explained to you the meaning of the phrase used in the text, before proceed- ing further, take next a view of life, and you will see, tliat a great part of men let slip the accepted time and day of salvation, till it be too late. It is the happiness of most men in countries where the Christian religion is pro- fessed, to receive a good education, and to be trained up from their youth in the principles of religion, and in the practice of virtue. But when this period of discipline is over, when a man sets out in life, and becomes his own mas- ter, he frequently becomes a different person 131 ox THE J3AN'GEK OF in that different state, and looks upon the good habits of his youth as some of those childish things which he ought now to put away. If his education has been severe and rigorous ; if his parents restrained him in that gaiety of heart and flow of the spirits which is the por- tion of youth ; if he pined in his closet, whilst his equals in age frequented those entertain- ments which can be enjoyed with innocence, he then generally goes to the other extreme, and plunges with a precipitant step into all the follies and vices of the age. The prisoner hav- ing got loose, grows wild and extravagant. Be- ing formerly shut up, he now wants to know the world ; and in order to this, ventures on forbidden paths, resigns the reins of conduct to inclination, and gives a loose to all his de- sires. Having found his former principles to be inconsistent with the enjoyment of life, he confounds his early prejudices with true piety; for which cause he throws off relio:ion altow- ther ; he becomes a patron and defender of vice ; he laughs at every thing that is serious : and perhaps, out of contempt to this day, in which we assemble together to worship the God of our fathers — out of contempt to the sacred rites of his country, which all wise hea- thens have revered — out of contempt to the DELAYING UErENTANCE. 135 venerable institutions of our holy religion, spends this day in dissipation and profaneness, and open impiety. But not to draw the character with such black stains, let us suppose men at that period passing their days in folly rather than in vice, at the head of every idle scheme, first in every fashionable amusement, and, as the Scripture liappilyexpresseth it, "walking in a vain show." Eehold them making amusement one of the cares of life ; spending those precious hours, which no power can ever recall, which no fu- ture labour can ever compensate, spending those precious hours in vanity and folly, whilst all along they forget the business of their sal- vation, and are no more affected with the prospect of a world to come, than with a tale that is told. But whilst thus they dance round in a circle of folly ; whilst they solace them- selves with the prospect of pleasures rising upon pleasures, never to have an end, and say in secret to their souls, '^ To-morrow shall be *^ as this day, and much more abundant;" whilst, like the foolish virgins, they slumber and sleep in the arms of this Delilah, at mid- night is the cry made, O man, thy hour is come ! And the trembling soul takes its de- parture, unawares and unprepared, to God the Judge of all! 136 UN THE DANGER OF To guard you against the fatal error which has undone its thousands, allow me to recom-i mend to your practice the necessity of instant repentance and reformation. In the j^r^^ place, No time is so proper as the present ; secondly^ If you delay, your reformation will be diffi- cult ; thirdly^ If you delay long, it may become altogether impossible. In the^r5^ place, then, There is no time sq proper as the present. The prodigal son exhibits to us a scene which we often see realized in life : A young man, who had been educated in the paths of virtue, declining from these paths, and going astray into forbidden ground, from the fond expectation of meeting with some strange, vast unknown happiness in the gratification of sen- sual desire. In the course of this unhallowed pilgrimage, he gives loose reins to his mind, he indulges every wandering inclination, he denies himself nothing that his heart wishes for. At last he comes to himself, he sees the folly of his ways, he repents, he resolves, he amends. Such a change of life we can easily conceive. In his former situation, he knew not what he did ; he was transported by pas- sion, he went headlong down the torrent. But DELAYING UEl'ENTANCE. 137 when once he began to reflect, he found that that was the critical moment of life, which, if he had neglected, his return would have been more difficult. In his former situation, he went forward in the path which seemed right in his own eyes, without looking back. He did not act against the admonitions of con- science ; he did not think at all. But if, after his eyes were open to discern the state of wretchedness and guilt into which he had fallen ; if after this, he had returned to folly again, it would have been much more difficult to restore him by repentance. Let this then be your conduct : whenever you come to the knowledge of your sins, whenever you perceive any thing amiss in your lives, seize the favour- able moment, as the proper time to reform. What is it, I beseech you, that you. do by delaying? You allow corruption time to strengthen and fortify itself; you give temp- tation double force, by yielding to it, not from surprise, but with deliberate consent ; you weaken the power of conscience, that check which God appointed to you in your evil courses ; and with your own hand, you throw obstacles in the way of you conversion. You now see you are sinful and undone ; you now resolve to repent and amend; you are now siet- 138 ON THE DANCER OF ting out in the path which leadetli to Ufe ; you are not far from the kingdom of God : but if you resolve and perform not ; if, when you are once engaged you draw back ; you then fly off from the path of Hfe to the way of de- struction ; you throw yourself further from the kingdom of God than if you had never set out. At once, then, at once make your escape from the allurements of sin ; break the chains by which you are held ; cut off all the avenues and approaches to the sin that besets you ; give no time to the enemies of your soul to collect their strength ; by faith and repent- ance now enter into the way that opens into the heavens ; when you say, with sincere purpose of heart, '' I will arise and go to my '' Father," in that moment arise and go to thy Father; now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation. In the second place. By delaying, your con- version will become extremely difficult. Thou sayest, O man ! that thou wilt repent in some future period of time ; but thou know- est not the danger of such a resolution. It is amazing to think with what ease we can im- pose upon ourselves. In spite of all his boasted wisdom, man is more simple than the L'ELAYING UEPENTANCE. 139 beasts of the field. Do you consider, my friends, that delaying from day to day, and from year to year, that postponing the work of your salvation to some future period of time, is little better than a fixed determination tiiat you will never begin it at all ? Do you reflect, that the time to come, if it ever comes, will be the same to you then^ that the present time is to you now ? There will 'occur the same difficulties to deter you, the same pleasures to allure you, the same dangers to terrify you. Objects will then be as present, and strii^e the senses as strongly as ever ; and the time of reformation will still be to-morrow. Nay, it will then be more difficult to be saved than it is now. You will have more sins to repent of; more bad habits to subdue ; a more corrupt- ed nature to put off. It is a remarkable fact, and deserves your most serious attention, that among all the conversions recorded in Scrip- ture, there is not one of a sinner who delayed his repentance. Among all the returning penitents there mentioned, there is not one in the situation of a Christian, who daily hears the Gospel without its having any efiect upon his life. Zaccheus, upon hearing Jesus Christ proclaim the glad tidings of salvation, yielded to the influences of that grace to which he had 140 ON THE DANGEIi OV hitherto been a stranger, and surrendered him- self to a call which had never been made be- fore. The apostles, in the course of their mini- stry, converted Jews and Gentiles. They con- verted the Jews, by proposing to them an idea, which was new to them, the Lord of glory, whom they with wicked hands had crucified and slain. They converted the Gentiles, by working miracles, in proof of their divine commission, and by preaching the doctrines of salvation to them, which they had never heard before. But what new methods can we attempt with you ? Is there any motive to repentance which hath not already been urged upon you? Is there one avenue to the heart which has not already been tried, and which has not already been tried in vain ? Shall we address ourselves to your conscience, to give you the alarm ? But, alas ! you have often heard its voice, you have often disregarded its voice, and by efforts too successful, have lulled it into a profound sleep. Shall we address ourselves to your hopes, by describing to you the joys of heaven, the rivers of -pleasure which are at God's right hand, the happiness of the blessed, the tri- umphs of eternity ? All these have been al- ready presented to your eyes, and to all these you have preferred the enjoyments of an hour. DELAYING REPENTANCE. 141 You have sold your birth-right to immortality for a sordid gratification, and you now only mind earthly things. Shall we endeavour to alarm your fears, by setting before you the horrors of hell, the worm that never dies, the fire that is never quenched, everlasting destruc- tion from the presence of the Lord and the glory of his power ? These have been traced out to you an hundred times, and you have learned the fatal art of freeing yourselves from the fears of them. Shall we implore you by the grace of the Gospel, and by the tender mercies of the God of Peace ? But, alas ! you have undervalued his mercy, you have turned his grace into wantonness. Shall we set before you the image of a Saviour dying on the cross for the redemption of the world? But, alas ! a crucified Redeemer hath been often preach- ed to you, the memorial of his sacrifice hath been renewed in your sight, and, after all, you have counted his blood as a common thing ; you have looked upon the Son of God suffer- ing on the cross with as much unconcern as the Jews of old, when they cried out, " Away *' with him, away with him !" In the third place. By long delaying, your conversion may become altogether impossible. 142 ON THE DANGER OF Habit, says the proverb, is a second nature ; and indeed it is stronger than the first. At first, we easily take the bend, and are mould- ed by the hands of the master ; but this na- ture of our own making is proof against alter- ation. The Ethiopian may as soon change his skin, and the leopard his spots ; the tor- mented in hell may as soon revisit the earth ; as those who have been long accustomed to do evil may learn to do well. Such is the wise appointment of Heaven to deter sinners from delaying their repentance. When the evil principle hath corrupted the whole capacity of the mind ; when sin, by its frequency and its duration, is woven into the very essence of the soul, and is become part of ourselves ; when the sense of moral good and evil is al- most totally extinct ; when conscience is sear- ed as with a hot iron ; when the heart is so hard that the arrows of the Almighty cannot pierce it; and when, by a long course of crimes, we have become what the Scripture most em- phatically calls, " vessels of wrath fitted for " destruction ;" — then we have filled up the measure of our sins ; then Almighty God swears in his wrath that we shall not enter in- to his rest ; then there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin, but a fearful looking for wrath, DELAYIXG REPENTANCE. 143 and indignation which shall devour the ad- versary. Ahiiighty God, weary of bearing with the sins of men, dehvers them over to a re- probate mind, when, Hke Pharaoh, they survive only as monuments of wrath ; when, hke Esau, they cannot find a place for repentance, al- though they seek it carefully with tears ; when, like the foohsh virgins, they come knocking, but the door of mercy is for ever shut. Further, let me remind you, my brethren, that if you repent not now, perhaps you shall not have another opportunity. You say you will repent in some future period of time ; but are you sure of arriving at that period of time? Have you one hour in your hand ; have you one minute at your disposal ? Eoast not thyself of to-morrow. Thou knowest not what a day may bring forth. Before to-mor- row multitudes shall be in another world. Art thou sure that thou art not of the number? Man knoweth not his time. As the fishes that are taken in an evil net, as the birds that are caught in the snare, so are the sons of men snared in an evil hour. Can you recall to mind none of your companions, none of the partners of your follies and your sins, cut off in an unconverted state, cut oft'perhaps in the midst of an unfinish- ed debauch, and hurried, with all their trans- 144 ON THE DANGER OF gressions on their head, to give in their account to God the Judge of all ? Could I shew you the state in which they are now in ; could an angel from heaven unbar the gates of the ever- lasting prison ; could you discern the late com- panions of your wanton hours overwhelmed with torment and despair ; could you hear the cry of their torment which ascendeth up for ever and ever ; could you hear them upbraid- ing you as the partners of their crimes, and accusing you as in some measure the cause of their damnation ! — Great God ! how would your hair stand on end ! how would your heart die within you ! how would conscience fix all its stings, and remorse, awaking a new hell within you, torment you before the time ! Had a like untimely fate snatched you away then^ where had you been now ? And is this the improvement which you make of that longer day of grace with which Heaven has been pleas- ed to favour you ? Is this the return you make to the Divine goodness for prolonging your lives, and indulging you with a longer day of repentance ? Have you in good earnest de- termined within yourself that you will weary out the long-suffering of God, and force de- struction from his reluctant hand ? I beseech, I implore you, my brethren, in DELAYING REPENTANCE. 145 the bonds of friendship, and in the bowels of the Lord ; by the tender-mercies of the God of Peace ; by the dying love of a crucified Re- deemer; by the precious promises and aw- ful threatenings of the Gospel ; by all your hopes of heaven and fears of hell ; by the worth of your immortal souls, and by all that is dear to men ; I conjure you to accept of the offers of mercy, and fly from the wrath to come. " Behold, now is the accepted time, behold *• now is the day of salvation," All the trea- sures of heaven are now opening to you ; the blood of Christ is now speaking for the remis- sion of your sins ; the church on earth stretches out its arms to receive you ; the spirits of just men made perfect are eager to enrol you a- mongstthe number of the blessed ; the angels and archangels are waiting to break out into new alleluiahs of joy on your return; the whole Trinity is now employed in your behalf; God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, at this instant call upon you, weary and heavy laden, to come unto them that ye may have rest unto your souls ! VOL, IL K SERMON IV. ON THE PAllABLE OF THE PRODIGAL SON* Luke xv. 18. I will arise and go to mi] Father. The parable of the prodigal Son is one of the most beautiful and affecting pieces of com- position which is anywhere to be found. The occasion on which it was spoken, and the per- sons to whom it was addressed, are well known to you. Dropping, therefore, what was pe- culiar at the first narration, I shall consider it as representing in general the return of sin- ners to God by true repentance. Such a return is not a single act in the Christian life ; it is the habitual duty of every man who is subject to infirmities and defects. For such is the weakness of human nature in this imperfect state, such is the strength of temptation in this evil world, that frail man is often led astray before he is aware. Alas ! in ON THE PRODIGAL SON. 147 our best estate we are but returning penitents ; and to the last hour of this mortal life we stand in need of amendment. We may observe the following steps in the return of the prodigal to his father's house : Firsts His restoration to a better mind, by means of consideration. " When he came to " himself, he said, How many hired servants " of my father's have bread enough, and to " spare !" Second^ Ingenuous sorrow for sin, accom.panied with faith in the Divine mercy. " Father, I have sinned against Heaven and " before thee." Thirds A resolution to re- turn to a sense of duty. " I will arise and go " to my father." And, fourth^ His immediate performance of that resolution. " And he ^* arose and came to his father." First, His restoration to a better mind by means of consideration. " He came to him- « self." With great propriety is this expression used ; for a wicked man is beside himself. Madness, saith Solomon, is in the heart of the sinner. As madness is a disease of the ration- al powers, so is vice of the moral. Sin, in like manner, unhinges the whole frame of the moral being, tinges with its baleful colours every sen- k2 148 ON THE PARABLE OF timent of the heart, and presents to view a spec- tacle more melancholy still, — a being, made after the image of God, sinking that image in- to the resemblance of a brute, or the character of a fiend. Mad, however, as such persons are, they are not always so. Sin cannot always keep its ground. The evil principle has its hour of weakness and decline. There is no man uniformly wicked. The exertion is too strong to last for ever. Nature does not af- ford strength and spirits sufficient to keep a man always in energy. The most abandoned have fits and starts of soberness and recollec- tion. There are lucid intervals in the life of every person. At such a time is the crisis of a man's character. At such a time the prodigal son came to his right mind. At once the spell was broken and the enchantment dissolved. He is amazed, he is confounded to find him- self degraded from the rational character; cast down to the herd of inferior animals ; making one at the feast where the vilest of brutes were his associates and companions. Then the false colours with which fancy had gilded his life, vanish away. The flattering ideas which imagination and passion presented to his mind, disappear in a moment. Disenchant- ed from the delusions of the great deceiver, THE rilODIGAL SON. 149 what he esteemed to be the garden of Eden, he finds to be a desolate wilderness. " Then " he came to himself." You know that when a man recovers from a fit of lunacy, and is restored to his reason, the mind annihilates the lurid interval, forgets the events of such a state like a dream, and resumes the train of ideas it had pursued in its sound state. Thus, the penitent in the pa- rable, awaking as frotii a dream, recovering as from a delirium, transports himself into the time past, his former life recurs to his mind, his father's house rises to view, he recalls the first of his days before he went astray. Happy days of early innocence and early piety, before remorse had embittered his hours, or vice cor- rupted his heart ! Happy days ! when the ttiorning arose in peace, and the evening went down in innocence; when no action of the past day disturbed his slumbers by night ; when no reflection on the riots of the night threw a cloud over the succeeding day ; when he was at peace with his own heart ; when conscience was on his side; when reflection was a friend; when memory presented only welcome images to the mind ; when, under the wings of pater- nal care, he was l)lesse(l in his going out and 150 ON THE PARABLE OF coming in ; when his father's eye met his with approbation and delight. Having viewed the picture, he compares it with his present situation. Sad contrast ! By his own folly, a vagabond in a foreign land; banished from all that he valued and held dear; cut off from the joys of his better days ; lan-^ guishing out life under the most abject form of misery; pining under poverty; sunk into servi- tude ; feeding swine, and himself desiring to partake with them in their husks ; miserable without, but more miserable within ; a spirit wounded by remorse, a heart torn by reflec- tion on itself; an accusing conscience, which told him that he merited his fate, and which held up to him his past life in its blackest co-^ lours of folly and guilt. Astonished at him- self, startled at his own image, which, in its true colours, he had never seen before, he was ashamed of his conduct, and came to a better mind. Such were the effects of consideration, and such will ever be the effects of considera- tion to those who duly exercise it. Why does the sinner go forward in the error of his ways? Because he does not consider. " Hear, O " heavens ; give ear, O earth : the ox know- ^^ eth his owner, and the ass his master's crib ; ^' but my people do not consider." Consider THE PRODIGAL SON. 151 yoiu' ways, is the voice which God addresses to mankind in every age ; and unless you con- S4der, the calls of the gospel and the offers of grace are mad^ to no purpose. The world which is to come has no existence to you but what you give it yourselves ; the eternity that is before you, the happiness of heaven and die pains of hell, are no more than dreams, unless you realize them to yourselves, unless you give them their full force, by bringing them home to the heart. When a man re- views the error of his ways, nothing is want- ing to a further reformation but reflection and thought. Think, and the work is done. " 1 « considered my ways," saith the Psalmist. What was the consequence? " I turned my ^« feet unto thy testimonies/' The second step in the return of the prodi- gal, is ingenuous sorrow for sin, accompanied with faith in the Divine mercy. " Father, " I have sinned against Heaven, and before ^' thee." We are formed by the Author of our being to feel contrition for the offences we commit. This pungent sense of infirmities, this peni- tential sorrow for errors and defects, is a beau- ty in the nature of man. It is an indication L^2 ON THE PARABLE OF that the sense of excellence exists in its full vigour, and the mark of a nature that is not only improvable, but that also is making im- provements. When a man seriously considers that the tenor of his life has been irregular and disorderly ; that much of his time has been misemployed, and great part of it spent altogether in vain ; that he has walked in a vain show, unprofitable to himself or others, an idler upon the earth, a cumberer of the ground ; that by his negligence and perversion of his powers he has been lost to the world which is to come, has marred the beauty of his immortal spirit, and stopt short in the race which conducts to glory, honour, and immor- tality ; when he further considers, that his of- fences have extended to his fellow men, that by his conduct he has been the cause of mise- ry to others, has disturbed the peace of socie- ty, done an injury to the innocent, — such re- flections in a heart that is not altogether cal- lous, will awaken contrition and sorrow. This penitential sorrow will be increased when he considers against whom he has of- fended ; that he has sinned against infinite goodness, and saving mercy, and tender love ; that he has resisted the efforts of that arm that was lifted up to save him; that he has rebelled THE PRODIGAL SON. 153 against the God who made, and the Saviour who redeemed him. This is one of the charac- teristics of true repentance. The penitent does not mourn for his sins as being ruinous to him- self, so much as for their being offensive to God. The returning prodigal, in the address he makes to his Father, dwells not upon the misery he had brought upon himself, upon the ruin to his character, his fortune, and his expectations in life. " 1 have sinned against Heaven, and in " thy sight." " What grieves me most is, that I have offended thee; that I have sinned against goodness unspeakable ; against that goodness to which I am indebted for the care of my in- fant years; against that goodness to which I owe my preservation ; against him who visited me while I was flying from his presence ; who sup- ported my powers while they were employed against him. It is my Benefactor whom I have offended ; it is my best Friend that I have in- jured; it is my Father himself against whom I have risen in arms.-' This sorrow for sin is accompanied with faith in the Divine mercy. To wicked men, labouring under the agonies of a guilty mind, the Deity appears an object of terror. They figure to themselves an angry tyrant, with his thunder in liis hand, delighting to punish and 154 ON THE PA11A13LE OF destroy. Like Adam when he had sinned, they are afraid, and flee from the presence of the Lord. But from the mind of the penitent these terrors vanish, and God appears, not as a cruel and malignant power, but as the best of beings, the Father of mercies, and the Friend of men, as a God in Christ reconciling the world unto himself. Encouraged by these declarations, the penitent trusts to the Divine goodness, and flies for refuge to the hope set before him. It is the wicked man only that despairs. Horrors of conscience and fore^ bodings of wrath affright and overwhelm the sons of reprobation* Such horrors felt Cain and Judas Iscariot. But the penitent never despairs. He sinks indeed in his own eyes, and throws himself prostrate on the ground, but still throws himself at the footstool of mercy, not without the faith and the hope that he will be taken into favour. The language of his soul is, '^ Though I am cast out of thy sight, yet will I look again to thy holy temple. I will arise and go to my Father, for though I have offended him, he is a Father still. He now sits upon a throne of mercy, and holds a sceptre of grace. At thy tribunal former ofr- fenders have been forgiven, and former sin- ners have been taken into favour. To thy THE PRODIGAL SON. 15 5 ears the cry of the penitent has never ascend- ed in vain. Thou art ever nigh to all who call upon thee in sincerity of heart. When we tend to thee, at the first step of our re- turn, thou stretchest out thy hand to receive us." So different is that repentance which is unto life, from the sorrow of the world which worketh death. Different as the look of me- lancholy upon the face of the virtuous mourn- er, is from the unkindly glow which burns the cheek of shame ; different as the tender tears which a good man sheds for his friends, are from those bitter drops which fall from the malefactor at the place of execution. The thij'd step is, a resolution to return to a sense of duty. *' I will arise." Without determined purposes of amendment, contrition is unavailing and ineffectual. The Deity is not delighted with the suJSerings of man. Sorrow for sin is so far pleasing, as it softens the heart, and makes it better. It is the resolution of amendment, the purposes pointed to reformation, that make the broken heart and the contrite spirit an acceptable sacri- fice ; such is the nature of true repentance ; it flows not so much from the sense of danger as from the love of goodness. 156 ON THE PARABLE OF In true repentance, there is not only a change of mind, but a change of life. When the day-spring from on high arises on him who is in darkness, when God says. Let there be light, the scales fall from his eyes, a new world breaks upon his sight, futurity becomes present, and invisible things are seen ; then first he beholds the beauty which is in hoh- ness, and tastes the joy which flows from re- turning virtue. In that happy hour he forms the pious purpose, and seals the sacred vow to be holy for ever. Then he prefers the peace which flows from virtue, and the joy which ariseth from a good conscience, to every con- sideration. Then the servants of God appear to him the oiily happy men ; and he would rather rank with the meanest of these, than enjoy the riches of many wicked. " Great God, withhold from me what thou pleasest, but give me to enjoy the approbation of my own mind, and thy favour. I would rather be the humblest of thy sons than dwell in the tents of wickedness." None shall enter into the New Jerusalem, and sit down at the right hand of the Father, but they who prefer the testimony of a good conscience, the smiles of Heaven, and the sentence of the just, to all the trea- sures of the world. THE PRODIGAL SON. 157 Had the penitent not been in earnest, false shame might have prevented or retarded his return. Conscious of guilt, and covered with confusion, how shall he appear before his friends and acquaintance ? " I know (might he have said) the malice of an ill-judging and injurious world. The sins which are blot- ted out of the book of God's remembrance are not forgotten by them. Let me fly rather to the uttermost parts of the earth, retire to the wilderness untrod by the foot of man, and hide me in the shades which the beams of the sun never pierced, than be exposed to the scorn, and contumely, and reproach of all around me." But the penitent was determined and im- moveable. ^ * * * TJiQ rest of the MS. was not legible. SERMON V. ON A HEAVENLY AND A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 1 Corinthians ii. 12. Now we have received^ not the spirit of the worlds but the Spirit which is of God. There are two characters which, iii Sacred Scripture, are set in perpetual opposition, the man of the earth, and the citizen of heaven. The first characterpertains to that class of men, who, whatever speculative opinions they en- tertain, yet in practice consider this life as their only state of being. A person of this charac- ter centres all his regards in himself; confines his views entirely to this world, and pursuing avarice, ambition, or sensual pleasure, makes these the sole objects of pursuit. Good dis- positions he may possess, but he exercises them only when they are subservient to his ON A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 159 purposes. Virtues also he may cultivate, not for their own sake, but for the temporal ad- vantages they bring along with them. The citizen of heaven moves in a nobler sphere. He does not indeed affect the character of sanctity, by neglecting his temporal concerns. He looks upon the maxim of David as inspired wisdom, ** If thou art wise, thou art wise for thyself.'* But although he has his temporal interest in his eye, he has a higher interest in his heart. What is necessary, what is useful, will often be a subject of attention ; but what is generous, what is lovely, what is honourable, what is praiseworthy, become the chief objects of pur- suit. He cultivates good dispositions from a sense of their beauty, previous to his expe- rience of their utility ; he esteems the posses- sion of virtue more than the earthly rewards it procures ; he lives in a constant discharge of the duties of life in this state, and with a w^ell-grounded faith, and an animating hope, looks forward to a better world, and a higher state of being. These two characters, which divide all man- kind, are always represented in Scripture as inconsistent and incompatible with each other. It is impossible, says our Lord, at one 'and the same time to serve God and to serve 160 ON A HEAVENLY AND Mammon. If any man love the world, says the Apostle John, the love of the Father is not in him. The principles that actuate these characters, are represented in the text as two spirits opposite to one another, the spirit of the world, and the spirit which is of God. The spirit of any thing is that vital principle which sets it agoing ; which keeps it in motion ; which gives it its form and distinguishing qua- lities. The spirit of the world is that principle which gives a determination to the character, and a form to the life, of the man of the earth. The spirit which is of God, is that vital princi- ple which gives a determination to the charac- ter, and a form to the life, of the citizen of heaven. One of these spirits actuates all man- kind. While, therefore, I represent the strik- ing lineaments in these opposite characters, take this along with you, that I am describing a character which is your own ; a character which either raises to eminence, or sinks down to debasement. In the first place, then, The spirit of the world is mean and grovelling ; the spirit which is of God is noble and elevated. The man of the earth, making himself the object of all his actions, and having his own interest perpetu- A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 161 ally in view, conducts his life by maxims of utility alone. This being the point to which he constantly steers, this being the line from which he never deviates, he puts a value on every thing precisely as it is calculated to ac- complish his purposes. Accordingly^ to gain his end, he descends to the lowest and the vil- est means ; he gives up the manly, the spirited^ and the honourable part of his life ; he makes a sacrifice of fame, and character, and dignity and turns himself into all the forms of mean- ness, and baseness, and prostration. The Pro- phet Isaiah, with infinite spirit, derides the idols of the Heathen world. ^^ A man," saith he, '' planteth a tree, and the rain doth nourish ^' it ; he heweth him down cedars, and taketh «* the cypress and the oak; and of the tree which ^ he planted, he maketh to himself a god. The ** carpenter stretcheth out his rule, he marketh it out with a line; he fashioneth it with planes, and maketh it after the figure of a man ; and then he worshippeth it as a god. Part there- " of he burneth in the fire, with part thereof *^ he maketh bread, and with the residue he " maketh a god." Similar to this is the crea- tion of these earthly gods. Read the pages of their history, and behold them rising to divinity by compliance, by servility, by humiliating VOL. II. L 1G2 ON A HEAVENLY AND ^meanness, and the darkest debasements. How dishonoiu^able often is that path which conducts to earthly grandeur ; and how mean a creature frequently is he whom the world calls a great man ! So low and grovelling is the spirit of the world. It is a spirit of a different kind that animates the citizen of heaven. He is born from above; he derives his descent from the everlasting Father, and he retains a conscious sense of his divine origiiiaL Hence Christians, in Scrip- ture, are called " noble ;" are called the " ex- " cellent ones of the earth." It is unworthy of their celestial descent, it is unbecoming their new nature, to stoop to the meanness of vice. The citizen of heaven scorns the vile arts, and the low cunning, employed by the man of the earth. He condescends, indeed, to every gentle office of kindness and humani- ty. But there is a difference between conde- scending, and descendmg from the dignity of character. From that he never descends. He himself ever feels, and he makes others feel too, that he walks in a path which leads to greatness, and supports a character which is forming for heaven. Such is the difference be- tween the spirit of the world, and the spirit which is of God. Suppleness, servility, abject A WOKLDLY SPIRIT. 163 submission, disgrace the one ; dignity, eleva- tion, independence, exalt the other. The one is a serpent, smooth, insinuating, creeping on the ground, and licking the dust : the other is an eagle, that towers aloft in the higher regions of the air, and moves rejoicing in his path through the heavens. In the second place. The spirit of the world is a spirit of falsehood, dissimulation and hy- pocrisy : the spirit of God is a spirit of truth, sincerity, and openness. The life which the ' man of the earth leads is a scene of imposture and delusion. Show without substance ; ap- pearance without reality ; professions of friend- ship which signify nothing; and promises which are never meant to be performed, fill up a life which is all outside. With him the face is not the index of the mind, nor the tongue the in- terpreter of the heart. There is a lie in his right hand. He is perpetually acting a part, and under a mask he goes about deceiving the world. He turns himself into a variety of shapes.; he changes as circumstances change; he goes through all the forms of dissimulation, and puts off one disguise to put on another. He does not hesitate to counterfeit religion when it serves a turn, and to act the saint in l2 164 ON A HEAVENLY AND order to gain his ends. Hence the spirit of the world hath often passed for the spirit which is of God, and Satan, under this disguise, hath been mistaken for an angel of light. Such is the spirit of the world. The spirit which is of God is a spirit of truth, sincerity, and openness. The citizen of heaven esteems truth as sacred, and holds sincerity to be the first of the virtues. He has no secret doctrines to communicate. He needs no chosen confidents to whom he may "impart his favourite notions ; no private con- venticles where he may disseminate his opi- nions. What he avows to God he avows to man. He expresseth with his tongue what he thinketh with his heart. He will not indeed improperly publish truths ; he will not prosti- tute what is pure and holy ; he will not, as the Scripture says, throw pearls before swine ; but neither will he on any occasion partake with swine in their husks. He is what he ap- pears to be. Arrayed in the simple majesty of truth, he seeks no otiier covering. Sup- ported by the consciousness of rectitude, he holds fast his integrity as he would guard his life. Such is the difference between these characters. The man of the earth turns aside to the crooked paths and insidious mazes of A WORLDLY SPIRIT. 165 dissimulation ; the citizen of heaven moves along in the onward track of integrity and honour. The spirit of the world seeks con- cealment, and the darkness and the shade ; the spirit which is of God loves the light, be- comes the light, adorns the light. Thirdly i The spirit of the world is a timid spirit ; the spirit which is of God is a bold and manly spirit. Actuated by selfish prin- ciples, and pursuing his own interest, the man of the earth is afraid to offend. He accom- modates himself to the manners that prevail, and courts the favour of the world by the most insinuating of all kinds of flattery, by follow- ing its example. He is a mere creature of the times ; a mirror to reflect every vice of the vicious, and every vanity of the vain. His sole desire is to please. If he speak truths, they are pleasing truths. He dares not risk the disapprobation of a fool, and would rather offend against the laws of Heaven than give offence to his neighbour. To sinners he ap- pears as a sinner ; to saints he appears as a saint. In the literal sense he becomes all things to all men, without aspiring to that faith which would set him above the world, or to that spirit which would enable him to assert 166 ON A HEAVENLY AND the dignity of the rational character. He is timid, because he has reason to be so. Wick^ edness, condemned by its own vileness, is ti- morous, and forecasteth grievous things. There is a dignity in virtue which keeps him at a distance ; he feels how awful goodness is ; and in the presence of a virtuous man, he shrinks into his own insignificance. On the other hand, the righteous is bold as a lion. '^ I fear my God, and I have no " other feai%" is the languageof his heart. With God for his protector, and with innocence for his shield, he walks through the world with an erect posture, and with a face that looks up- wards. He despises a fool, though he were possessed of all the gold of Ophir, and scorns a vile man, though a minister of state. The voice of the world is to him as a sounding brass, or tinkling cymbal. The applauses or the censures of the high or the low affect him not, Like distant thunder they vibrate on his ear, but come not to his heart. To him his own mind is the whole world. There sits the judge of his actions, and he appeals to no other tri- bunal upon the earth. He possesses the spirit which rests upon itself He walks by his own light, he determines upon his own deeds. Supported by the consciousness of in* A WOlILDhY SriIilT. 167 nocencc, and acting with all the force of pro- vidence on his side, he has nothing to fear ; knows that he can no more be hurt by the ru- mours of the idK, impious, and hypocritical, than the heavens can be set on fire by the sparkles that arise into the air, and that die in the moment they ascend. Animated with this spirit, the feeble becomes strong in the Lord. Apostles, who on former occasions had been weak and timid, whom the voice of a woman frightened into apostacy, who deserted their Master in his deepest distress, and hid them- selves from the fury of the multitude ; these Apostles no sooner felt the impulse of this Spirit, than they appeared openly in the midst of Jerusalem, published the resurrection of Je- sus to those priests and elders who had con- demned him to death, and discovered a bold- ness and magnanimity, a spirit and intrepidity, which shook the councils of the Jewish nation, and made the kings of the earth to tremble on their thrones. In the last place, The spirit of the world is an interested spirit : the spirit which is of God is a generous spirit. The man of the earth has no feeling but for himself. His own interest is his only object ; he never loses sight 168 ON A HEAVENLY AND of this ; this is his all ; every line of his con* duct centres in this point. He has a design in every thing he does. As the prophet Malachi says, "He will not shut thed«)rs for nought." He deliberates not whether an action will do good, but whether it will do good to him. That generosity of sentiment which expands the soul ; that charming sensibility of heart which makes us glow for the good and weep for the woes of others ; that Christian charity which comprehends in its wide circle all our bre- thren of mankind ; that diffusive benevolence, reduced to a principle of action, which makes the human nature approach to the Divine, he considers as the dreams of a visionary head, as the figments of a romantic mind that knows not the world. But the spirit which is of God is as gene- rous as the spirit of the world is sordid. One of the chief duties in the spiritual life is to de- ny itself Christianity is founded upon the most astonishing instance of generosity and love that ever was exiiibited to the world ; and they have no pretensions to the Christian cha- racter who feel not the truth of what their Master s^id, « That it is more blessed to give '« than to receive." This is not comprehend- ed by worldly men ; and the more worldly and A WORLDLY SPIRIT, 169 wicked they are, the more it is incomprehen- sible. " Does Job serve God for nought ?" said the first accuser of the just. Yes, thou accursed spirit ! he serves God for nought. Thy votaries serve thee for lucre and profit and filthy mammon ; but the children of God serve him from reverence and love. Reward- ed indeed they shall be in heaven, while thine are to be tormented, and by thyself, in hell ; but they account that to be a sufficient reward which they have even here in their own hearts^ — the consciousness and the applauses of ge- nerosity. SERMON VI. ON THE INFLUENCE OF THE HOLY SPIRIT, Luke xi. 13. — How nmch more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him. In the beginning of this chapter, our Lord prescribed to his disciples a pattern of prayer. He discovered the Deity to them under the tender name of a Father ; and he taught them to approach the throne of Grace with the af- fection and the confidence of children. To encourage them still more to the practice of this duty, he assures them of success upon their perseverance in devotion ; and to im- press his instructions in the strongest manner upon their minds, he delivers a parable to them, which he concludes with these words ; ^^ Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye ON THE INFLUENCE OF THE HOLY SPIRIT. 171 *^ shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened " unto you. For every one that asketh, re- " ceiveth ; and he that seeketh, findeth ; and *' to him that knocketh, it shall be opened. " If a son shall ask bread of any of you that " is a father, will he give him a stone ? or if " lie ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a " serpent ? or if he shall ask an egg, will he " offer him a scorpion ? If ye then, being " evil, know how to give good gifts unto your " children, how much more shall vour heaven- ^' ly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that " ask him ?" As if he had said, " I have told you that God is your Father ; that his ear is ever open to your cry, and that his hand is ever stretched out in your behalf." Vou that are fathers can judge of the paternal affection. If vou see a child in distress, will vour bowels of compassion be shut against him ? When he utters the voice of sorrow, will vou turn a deaf ear to his complaint ? Will you refuse to stretch out the hand to save him from the pit; and instead of relieving him, push him down into destruction ? There is no father so bar- barous, and no heart so cruel. If you, then, evil and corrupted as you are ; if clothed as vou are with human frailties and infirmities, you know how to give good gifts unto your 172 ON THE INFLUENCE OF children ; if the workings of nature, and the yearnings of paternal affection, prompt you to perform good offices, how much more will the infinite benevolence of the Deity prompt him to bless all his offspring, and open his boun- tiful hand to the whole family of heaven and earth ! As the Most High God who inhabiteth eternity, excels his meanest creature, the be- ing of a day, so far doth the infinite benig- nity and everlasting love of your Father in heaven, exceed the fondest affection of an earthly parent. In further discoursing to you upon this sub- ject, I shall explain what is meant by giving the Holy Spirit, Perhaps these words may refer to the extra- ordinary effusion of the Holy Ghost upon the Apostles on the day of Pentecost, when they received the gift of tongues, and were endued with the power of working miracles. Though these words may include this meaning, yet they chiefly refer to the ordinary influence of the Divine Spirit, which extends to every ge- neration ; which is the principle of the spirit- ual life within us, and continues with the faith- ful in all ages. Reason and revelation concur in assuring us, that the gfeat Creator hath ne- THE HOLY SriRIT. 173 ver withdrawn himself from his works. Above us, around us, and within us, God is seen, God is felt. The vast universe is one great temple, which he fills with his presence. As he is ever present in the world, he is ever employed. The hand that at first stretched out the hea- vens, still supports the pillars of the firma- ment. The breath which kindled the vital heat of nature, still keeps the flame alive and glowing ; God still acts through all his works, preserving and upholding the whole system of things, and carrying forward the designs of in- finite wisdom and goodness. His providence is a continued exertion of creating power. As he is employed in the material, he acts also upon the moral world. The Father of spirits communicates himself to holy men, enlightens their understandings with divine knowledge; by secret ways, at once strengthens and ravishes the mind, and fills them with a conscious sense of his own presence. Hence the wisest among the heathens, guided only by the light of na- ture, acknowledged the necessity of superna- tural aids, and taught that nothing great or good could be performed without the influence of a Divine Spirit. But as this doctrine hath been by some denied altogether, and by others involved in mysticism and absurdity, it will be 174 ON THE INFLUExVCE OF proper to give you that just and rational ac- count of it, which the Scripture authorises. There is hardly any one thing of which man- kind may be made more sensible from their own experience, than the necessity of divine aids. For, alas ! the balance in human nature, between reason and appetite, between the pov/ers of tlie mind, and the inclinations arising from the body, is in a great degree lost. There may be, and there once was, a more harmoni- ous temperament in the human frame. The rational part of our nature was better enligh- tened and more vigorous ; the passions and ap- petites of the animal part moved under its con- troul. But that state of innocence is no more. Our nature is now degenerated ; we find a law in the members warring against the law of the mind. This disorder of our frame is more and more increased by those false notions of hap- piness which we are apt to imbibe, and by the many bad examples among which we pass our early years, insomuch, that by the time that we are grown up to the full power and exer- cise of reason, we find ourselves brought un- der the dominion of sensual and wicked incli- nations. How then shall we recover our li- berty ? How shall we reo;ain the ori2:inal rec- titude of our nature, and obtain a victory over THE HOLY SPIRIT. 175 the vices which war against the soul ? Is na- ture, such as it now is, sufficient for these things ? Is reason alone an equal match for the passions and desires of the heart, broke loose from all their restraints, authorised by custom, and inflamed by example? Can we cease to do evil and learn to do well, purely of ourselves, and be able to turn the stream of our affections from sensible and earthly things, to objects worthy of the choice and pursuit of a reasonable creature ? Can we, in short, convert ourselves by our own strength, and turn from the power of 'Satan unto the living God ? Are we sufficient for these things ? We are not. When we would do good evil is present with us ; the sensual part of our na- ture obtains dominion over the rational ; we are chained down to the earth while we at- tempt to soar to the heavens. Here, there- fore, God hath graciously interposed for our recovery. As he sent his Son into the world to redeem us from the guilt of sin and the curse of the law, he gives us his Holy Spirit to deliver us from the dominion of sin, and to translate us from the bondage of Satan into the family of Heaven, and the glorious liberty of the children of God. Hence he is said to 116 ON THE INFLUENCE OF work in us both to will and to do that which is his good pleasure. We are said to receive the Spirit, and our bodies are styled the temples of the holy Ghost Concerning this Spirit given to those that ask him, I observe, in the j^rs^ place, That his influence is consistent with the freedom of a reasonable being. The assistance which we receive from above, both in our first conversion from sin, and through the whole course of a religious life, are entirely rational, and have only a persuasive and moral influence. They do not resemble the inspiration of the pro- phets of old, which was sudden and violent, and overpowered the mind ; which superseded the use of reason, and suspended for a while the exercise of the natural faculties. The pro- phets were but the instruments of the Spirit, but we work together with God. The grace of Heaven does not take away the powers of the mind, but exalts them. It does not destroy the natural liberty of the mind, it makes us free indeed. If a man loses his free agency he ceases to be a man. He is a machine, and is acted upon. In opposition to this, God is said, in scripture, to draw us with the cords of love, and with the bands of a man ; that is, in THE HOLY SPIRIT. 177 such a manner as is most consistent with free- dom of choice, and agreeable to the constitu- tion of a reasonable nature. Reason being the noblest faculty of the human frame, it first par- takes the influence of the Divine Spirit. Its views are enlarged to take in the system of divine truth, and its power is increased to go- vern the whole man. These divine aids ex- tend to the heart and the affections, place them on proper objects, and give them their noblest joys. In short, they take in the whole of the Christian life. They inspire good resolu- tions and purposes of new obedience ; they carry us on, and encourage us in the ways of righteousness ; they render the practice of our duty easy and delightful, and bring us at last to the enjoyment of uninterrupted and ever- lasting happiness. Thus you see, that the influence of the Di- vine Spirit is in a way agreeable to the frame of human nature, gentle and persuasive ; not controlling or obstructing the use of reason, but by the use of reason influencing the will, moderating the affections, and regulating the whole conversation. It is no aro;ument arainst the reality of such divine aids, that they are not distinguishable from the operation of our own minds, and that we feel them not in a sen- VOL. II. M 178 ON THE INFLUENCE OF sible and striking manner. How difficult is it in our own character to distinguish what is na- tural from what is acquired ; to distinguish be- tween the natural treasures of the mind, and those foreign stores which she imports from education. The Spirit of God acts in such a manner as is most agreeable to the faculties of the mind. It is in this manner also, that God acts in the material world. Whatever is done in the heavens, or in the earth, or in the sea, is brought about by Divine Providence. Yet all that chain of causes and effects, from the lowest up to the throne of God, we call by the name of the course of nature. But wliat is this ? The course of nature is the energy of God. In the second place, I observe, concerning the influence of the Spirit, that its reality is only known by its operation and effect upon our lives. " Marvel not," said our Lord to Nico- demus, " that I say unto you, Thou must be '' born again. The v/ind bloweth where it " listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, ^' but canst not tell whence it cometh, and *^ whither it goeth. So is every one that " is born of the spirit." That is, as if he had said, the influences of the Spirit are indeed THE HOLY SPIRIt. 179 imperceptible to sense, and cannot be distin- guished in the precise moment of their ope- ration, but they are visible and certain m their effects, and in the fruits which they produce. A life of obedience and holiness, therefore, is the proof, and the only proof, that the Spirit dwells in us. The fruit of the Spirit, say the Scrip- tures, is goodness, and righteousness, and truth. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long- suffering, gentleness, meekness, and tempe- rance. The life, then, my friends, the life is the criterion and test by w^hich we shall know if we are born of the Spirit. There are indeed other marks, easier attained, which some peo- ple have found out to themselves. A light within, a call from heaven, a secret voice, and an extraordinary impulse, these are often the effects, not of a divine favour, but of a weak understanding, and a wild imagination, and often of something worse, even of arrant hy- pocrisy and unblushing impudence. These indeed are the marks of a spirit which hath often appeared in the w^orld, but which is very different from the Spirit of God. These are the symptoms of that intolerant and persecut- ing spirit, the offspring of darkness and of de- mons, which, excepting a few favourites, pur- sues the human race with unrelenting hatred u 2 180 ON TIIK INFLUENCE OF in this world, and consigns them over to eter- nal pains in the next. This is a spirit which hath slain its thousands. Fire and sword mark its approach ; its steps are in the blood of the just, and it shakes the rod of extermination over the affrighted earth. But the Spirit of God is the spirit of love. It fills us with affec- tion and benevolence towards all our brethren of mankind. For he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and God dwelleth in him. This doctrine of the Spirit dwelling in us, and assisting us to perform good works, fur- nisheth a strong argument for humility. Why boastest thou, O man ? What hast thou which thou has not received ? From God descendeth every good and every perfect gift. We can do nothing of ourselves, not even so much as to think a good thought. It is by the grace of God that we are what we are. He graci- ously accepts of our sincere endeavours to please him ; and at last rewards those services, which by his grace he enables us to perform. Let us therefore be sensible of our own imper- fections, and give all the praise to him. Let this stir us up to activity in our Christian course. The proper use and improvement of this doctrine is not to sit still and take our rest, because God gives us his Holy Spirit, but, re- THE HOLY Sl'IlUT. 181 lying on the assistance of his Spirit, to move forwards in our Christian race. Seeing God vvorketh in you, therefore work out your salva- tion. Up, therefore, and be doing, seeing the Lord is with you. You not only act with the force of Providence on your side ; you have not only the Captain of Salvation fighting with you, but you have also his Spirit within you, leading you on to victory. In the last place, Let us express our grati- tude and praise to this Divine Guest, who vouchsafest to be our guide and comforter ; let us be careful not to grieve and offend him by wicked actions, lest he withdraw himself from us 'y and let us always remember, that He who is a pure and a holy Spirit, cannot dwell in polluted hearts, and in temples that are not his own. SERMON VII. ON RELIGIOUS RETIREMENT Isaiah xxvi. 20. ComCj my people^ enter thou into thy chambersj and shut thy doors about thee. AViTHOUT viewing these words in connection with what goes before or follows after, I shall consider them as containing an exhortation to religious retirement. Man was intended by his Creator for society. All the powers of his frame, the faculties of his mind, and the quali- ties of his heart, lead him to the social state as the state of his nature. But, although man was made for action, he was also intended for con- templation. There is a time when solitude has a charm for the soul; when, weary of the world, its follies, and its cares, we love to be alone, to enter into our chamber, to shut the door about us, and in silence to commune with our ON RELIGIOUS RETIREMENT. 18S heart. Such a retirement, when devoted to pious purposes, is highly useful to man, and most acceptable to God. Hence the holy men are represented in Scripture as giving themselves to meditation ; hence Jesus Christ himself is described as sending the multitude away, and going apart to the mountain. An opinion once prevailed in the world, and in many parts of it still prevails, that all virtue consisted in such a retreat ; that the perfection of the Christian life consisted in retiring from the world altogether, in with- drawing from human converse, in shutting ourselves up in the solitude of a cell, and pass- ing our days in barren and unprofitable specu- lation. Such notions of a holy life have no foundation in the word of God. Moses and the prophets, Jesus and the apostles them- selves, acted a part in public life, and enjoin- ed their disciples not to withdraw from the world, but to go about doing good ; not to wrap up their talent in a napkin, but to im- prove it by their industry ; not to put their light under a bushel, but to make it shine be- fore men. The retreat, therefore, which Scrip- ture recommends is temporary, and not total ; is not the retreat of a monk to his cell, or a hermit to his cave ; but of men living in the 184 ON RELIGIOUS RKTIIIEMENT. world, going out of it for a time to return with greater improvement. To retire at times into the closet for these purposes, is of general ob- ligation upon all Christians. ■. To induce you, therefore, to the practice of this duty, I shall now shew you the advantages which thereby you may expect to reap. The advantages attending religious retire- ment are these : it takes off the impression which the neighbourhood of evil example has a tendency to make upon the mind ; it is fa- vourable for fixing pious purposes in the mind, and strengthening our habits of virtue; it brings us to the knowledge of ourselves ; it opens a source of new and better entertain- ment than we meet with in the world. In ihe first place. Religious retirement takes off the impression which the neighbourhood of evil example has a tendency to make upon the mind. The world, my friends, is not in ge- neral a school of virtue ; it is often the scene of vanity and vice. Corrupted manners, vi- cious deeds, evil communications, surround us on every sidoo From our first entrance into life, we become spectators of the vicious, and witnesses to the commission of sin. This presence of the wicked lessens our natural hor- ON RELIGIOUS RKTIUEMENT. 185 ror at a crime, it renders the idea of vice fii- miliar to the mind, and insensibly lulls asleep that guarded circumspection which ought al- ways to be awake. Besides this contagion of evil example, the unhappy proneness of men to imitate the manners of those with whom they live, adds strength to the temptations of the world. Our favourable opinion of the person extends to the action he commits ; and by our fatal fondness of imitation we do what we see done. Our way then in the world lies through snares and precipices ; we see and we hear at the peril of our souls. The contagion in which we live, transfuses itself into our own minds. How often is the purity of the closet lost amid the pollution of the world ! The good resolutions of the morning give way to bustle and business, or to the career of plea- sure ; and the day that began with innocence and devotion, ends in vanity and vice. Temp- tations in every form assault your innocence, and the adversary of your soul is for ever on the watch. One false step may send you to the bottom of the precipice. One word spo- ken in passion hath given rise to quarrels that liave lasted through life. A single glance of envy, of revenge, or of impure desire, hath raised a conflagration which could only be 186 ON RELIGIOUS IIETIIIEMENT. quenched by blood. To avoid the pohution with which the world is infected, to keep off the intrusion of vain and sinful thoughts, enter into thy chamber, and shut the doors around thee. There the wicked cease from troubhng, there the man who is wearied of the workl is at rest. There the glare of external objects disappears, and the chains that bound you to the world are broken. There you shut out the strife of tongues, the impertinencies of the idle, the lies of the vain, the scandal of the malicious, the slanders of the defamer, and all that world of iniquity which proceeds from the tongue. In this asylum thy safety dwells, To thy holy retreat an impure guest dares not ap- proach. Enjoying the blessed calm and sere- nity of thy own mind, thou hearest the tem- pest raging around thee and spending its strength ; the objects of sense being removed, the appetites which they excited depart along with them. The scene being shifted, and the actors gone, the passions which they raised die away. In the second place. This devout retirement is favourable for fixing pious purposes in the mind, and strengthening our habits of virtue. We are so formed by the Author of our na^ ture, that the material objects with which we ON RELIGIOUS ilETlREMENT. 187 are surrounded raise ideas in us, and make im- pressions upon us merely by their own nature, and without any assistance from ourselves. There are motions in the body which are in- vohmtary and spontaneous, and there are im- pressions in the mind which are as much out of our power. At the presence of certain ob- jects, we feel certain passions whether we will or not; we cannot command the emotions which arise in the mind ; on many occasions we are merely passive to the influence of ex- ternal things. When imminent danger threat- ens, or the shriek of jeopardy is heard, the heart throbs, the blood takes the alarm, and the spirits are agitated without our direction or consent. As the nature of the plant is affect- ed by the soil where it grows ; as the nature of the animal is affected by the pasture where he ranges ; so the character of the man who never thinks, who never retires into himself^ arises from the mode of life in which he is en- gaged. His mind is in subjection to the ob- jects which surround him. He passes from object to object as the scene changes before him, and he is delivered over from passion to passion, according to the events which vary his life. Thus in society we are in a great mea- sure governed by accidents, and the mind is passive to the impressions which it receives, 188 ON RELIGIOUS RETIUEMENT. But in solitude we are in a world of our oxmi. We can call up what ideas, and converse with what objects we please. We can say to one desire, ^' Go," and to another " Come." Daz- zled no longer with the false glitter of the world, we open our eyes to the beauties of that better country which is a heavenly one ; stunned no more with the noise of folly, we can listen in silence to the still small voice. Escaped from the broad way, we set out on the narrow path. That is the place, and then is the time to seal the useful truth, and to fix the pious purpose. Then you can best recollect your native strength, and stir up the grace of God which is in you. Then at leisure you can reflect by what temptations you were formerly foiled, that you may guard against them in the time to come ; foreseeing the evil day, you will look out for the best support when it comes ; and putting on the whole armour of God, you will be able to resist the fierv darts of the evil one, and to go forth conquering and to con- quer. By these means, the good thoughts which were scattered up and down your life will be collected together, and settle in a fixed pur- pose of riew obedience. The various rays thus converging into one, will kindle into a fervent flame. ON RELIGIOUS RETIREMENT. 189 In the third place. By means of religious retirement, thou wilt be brought to the know- ledge of thyself. This is a part of our su- periority to the other creatures, that we are not confined to present objects ; that we can ex- tend our view beyond the province of sense, and turn our attention wherever we please, throughout the whole system of nature. The mind can arrest itself in its motion, and be- come the object of its own contemplation. The noblest of sciences is to know ourselves. But however useful and important this study is, there is none with which we are so little ac- quainted. Delighting to wander abroad, and familiar everywhere, you are strangers at home, strangers to your own character, stran- gers to your own hearts, strangers to all that is most important for a rational creature to know. You give your thoughts to wander through the whole world ; on the wings of imagination you fly from pole to pole ; but you never descend into yourself. For what reason art thou so averse to know thyself? Because thou art afraid of losing thine own good opinion ; because thou wantest to im- pose upon thyself, and then to impose upon the world. For this cause thou darest not ap- peal to tliinc ovni mind, thou darest not meet 190 ON RELIGIOUS RETIUEMENT. thy heart alone. Thou avoidest the h'ght, lest thine evil deeds should be made manifest. Thou fliest from the God within, as Adam when he had fallen fled from the Lord, be- cause thou art afraid. What can be more sus- picious than for reasonable creatures to de- cline the bar of reason ? What can be more shameful than for those who have an under- standing, not to be able or willing to give an account of their actions to themselves ? What can be more reproachful than for men to allow themselves in a course of life, which they have not the courage or the confidence to reflect upon ? Sinner ! deal plainly with thyself. If thou wert not ashamed of thyself, why, in the name of the all-knowing God, shouldst thou decline conversing with thyself? If all were well at home, what should make thee so fond of ram- bling abroad, and losing the remembrance of thyself in a crowd of vain amusements? Here, here is the cause of thy love of noise and hurry, and tumult and dissipation, and perpetual di- versions : thy aim is by this means to escape from thyself, to employ and divert thy mind, that it may not be forced upon such an ungrateful subject. Yet here wisdom begins. Thou ne- ver canst ascend to the knowledge of Him ON RELIGIOUS RETIREMENT. 191 whom to know is life eternal, without knowing thyself; and tlioii canst never know thyself, without retiring from the world, without strip- ping off whatever is artificial about thee, with- out throwing off the veil which thou wearest before men, and devoting thy secret hours to serious consideration. Enter then into thy chamber, shut the doors about thee, commune with thine own heart, be still, say with the Psalmist, " Search and try me, O Lord ; see ^' if there be any evil way in me, and lead me " in the way everlastmg." In the fourth place. Retirement and medi- tation will open a source of new and better entertainment than you meet with in the world. You will soon find that the world does not per- form what it promises. The circle of earthly enjoyments is narrow and circumscribed, the career of sensual pleasure is soon run, and when the novelty is over, the charm is gone. Who has not felt the satiety and weariness of the king of Israel, when he cried out, " All is ^' vanity and vexation of spirit ?*' Unhappy is the man who in these cases has nothing with- in to console him under his disappointment. jNIiserable is the man who has no resources within himself, who cannot enjoy his own 192 ON RELIGIOUS RETIKEMENT. company, who depends for happiness upon the next amusement, or the news of the day. But the wise man has treasures within him- self. He has a spring shut up, and a fountain sealed. The hour of solitude is the hour of meditation. He communes with his heart alone. He reviews the actions of his past life. He corrects what is amiss. He rejoices in what is right, and, wiser by experience, lays the plan of his future life. The great and the noble, the wise and the learned, the pious and the good, have been lovers of serious retire- ment. On this field the patriot forms his schemes, the philosopher pursues his discove- ries, the saint improves himself in wisdom and goodness. Solitude is the hallowed ground which religion in every age has adopted as its own. There her sacred inspiration is felt, and her holy mysteries elevate the soul ; there de- votion lifts up the voice ; there falls the tear of contrition ; there the heart pours itself forth before Him who made, and Him who redeemed it. Apart from men, you live with nature, and converse with God. SERMON VIII. ON THE UNHAPPY STATE OF THE WICKED. Isaiah Ivii. 21. There is no peace, saithmy God, to thewickecL It is universally agreed that the works of creation demonstrate the being and the attri- butes of the Deity. The invisible things of God, even his eternal power, his unerring wisdom, and his infinite goodness, are every- where legible throughout the great Book of Nature. It is very astonishing, however, that many persons, who from the creation of the world infer the existence and perfections of the Deity, should, from the government of the world, infer the necessity of a day of judgment to rectifv the course of Providence, and vindi- cate the ways of God. The works of God must certainly be uniform and of a piece. According to the representations of Sacred Scripture, the day of judgment was not appointed to account VOL ir. N 194 ON THE UNHAPPY STATE for the conduct of Providence, but to pass sen- tence on the actions of men. All the admi- nistrations of God are conducted with supreme wisdom and goodness. He is for ever em- ploying the power of his providence to favour the cause of righteousness, and to diffuse hap- piness over the world. When the blessed a- bove sing the wonders of creating power, and cry out, '^ Great and marvellous are thy works, <' Lord God Almighty ;" they also add, " Just '' and true are all thy ways,thou King of saints." If the Almighty is possessed of infinite per- fection ; if, as the Scriptures assert, he loveth righteousness and hateth iniquity, we nia)^ na- turally infer it to be one of his eternal decrees, that righteousness and happiness, that sin and misery, must be inseparable in the course of things. Notwithstandino; the force of the aro-uments that prove this truth, opinions pretty general prevail to the contrary. Many persons are of opinion that the wicked man has more enjoy- ment in life than the good man has ; that vir- tue exposes us to many evils ; and that if it were not for a future state. Christians would be of all men the most miserable. The origin of this opinion it is not difficult to unfold. It is natural for men to judge of the course of OF THE WICKED. 195 things by what happens in their own lot. When we are in a prosperous situation, when the candle of the Lord shineth upon our heads, all nature puts on a face of beauty, and wears a smiling appearance. But, when adversity, and a train of afflictions come in their turn, the eye of the impatient sufferer tinctures every thing around him with its own baleful colours. To his disordered mind, darkness seems to involve the system of nature, malignant de- mons to usurp the sceptre of Providence, and invade the throne of God. Hence the many complaints of good and holy men in sacred writ, that the righteous were cut off from the earth, whilst the wicked flourished like a green bay-tree. But these were not the maxims which governed their lives; they were only sudden exclamations made in the moments of impatience under distress. The universal voice of Scripture is expressly on the other side. " Say ye to the wicked, It shall be ill with him ; " say ye to the righteous, It shall be well " with him. There is no peace, saith my God, " to the wicked. Great peace have they who ^' love the laws of the Lord." In further treating upon this subject, I shall endeavour to shew you, that there is no peace or happiness to the wicked, whether you con- N 2 196 ON THE UNHAPPY STATE sider him as a subject of the divine govern- ment, as a member of society, or as an individual. In t\\ejirst place, then, Let us consider the wicked in his religious capacity, as a subject of the divine government. Religion is the distinguishing quality of our nature, and is one of the strongest features that marks the human character. As it is our distinguishing quality, so it possesses such ex- tensive influence, that however overlooked by superficial inquirers, it has given rise to more revolutions in human society, and to more changes in human manners, than any one cause whatever. View mankind in every situation, from the earliest state of barbarity, down through all the successive periods of civiliza- tion, till they degenerate to barbarity again, and you will find them influenced strongly by the awe of superior spirits, or the dread of in- fernal fiends. In the heathen world, where mankind had no divine revelation, but follow- ed the impulse of nature alone, religion was often the basis of the civil government. Among all classes of men, the sacrifices, the ceremo- nies, and the worship of the gods were held in the highest reverence. Judge what a strong hold religion must have taken of the human OF THE WICKED. 197 heart, when, instigated by horror of conscience, the Winded wretch has submitted to torture his own flesh before the shrine of the incensed deity, and tlie fond father has been driven to offer up, with his own hands, his first-born for his transgression, and the fruit of his body for the sin of his soul. It is possible to shake off the reverence, but not the dread, of a Deity. Amid the gay circle of his companions, in the hour of riot and dissipation, the fool may say in his heart that there is no God ; but his conscience will meet him when he is alone, and tell him that he is a liar. Heaven will avenge its quarrel on his head. Judge, then, my brethren, how miserable it must be for a being made after the image of God, thus to have his glory turned into shame. How dismal must the situation be for a subject of the divine government to consider himself as acting upon a plan to coun- teract the decrees of God, to defeat the desio-ns of eternal Providence, to deface in himself the image and the lineaments of heaven, to main- tain a state of enmity and war with his Creator, and to associate with the infernal spirits, whose abode is darkness, and whose portion is despair! Reflections upon such a state will give its full measure to the cup of trembling. Was not Belshazzar, the impious king of Babylon, 198 ON THE UNHAPPY STATE a striking instance of what I am now saying ? This monarch made a feast to a thousand of his lords, and assembled his princes, his con- cubines, and his wives. In order to increase the festivity, he sent for the consecrated ves- sels which his father Nebuchadnezzar had taken from the temple of Jerusalem ; and in these vessels, which were holy to the Lord, he made libations to his vain idols, and in his heart bade defiance to the God of Israel. But, whilst thus he defied the living God, forth came the fingers of a man's hand, and on the wall, which had lately resounded with joy, wrote the sentence of his fate ! In a moment his countenance was changed, his whole frame shook, and his knees smote one against ano- ther, whilst the Prophet in awful accents de- nounced his doom : " O man, thy kingdom " is departing from thee !" Although Provi- dence should not now particularly interpose to punish thee, O guilty man! yet the sentence of thy doom is written in thy heart, and there is a prophet within, who, upon the commission of crimes, will tell thee, that for these the kingdom of heaven is departed from thee. In the second place, As wickedness makes a man miserable in his religious character, so does it also in his social. OF THE WiCKED. 199 However corrupted men may be in tlieir lives, their moral sentiments are just and right; that is, although from an immoderate self-love we may excuse wickedness in ourselves, yet such is the force of conscience within, so deep- ly rooted in the mind is the eternal difference between good and evil, that, by the very frame of our natures, we abhor wickedness in others. When we are conversant in the world, or give our attention to a story that is a faithful pic- ture of human manners, from the impulse of natural feeling, we attach ourselves to the side of innocence ; we take part with the virtuous hero, and consider his enemies as our own. There is no vice but what tends to make a man contemptible or odious to society, A- gainst the greater and more atrocious crimes, the sword of the law is for ever drawn, and its stroke is death. Other vices which come not under the cognisance of the laws, either have ways of punishing themselves, or are marked with public infamy. Pride makes every af- front a torment, and puts a man's happiness in the power of every fool he meets with. The envious man is literally his own tormentor, and preys upon his own bowels. The drunk- a-rd exposes himself to the derision of man- ^00 ox THE UNHAPPY STATE kind, and falls into follies that cover him with shame in his sober hours. Does not a habit of intoxication deprive a man of all sense of decency, indispose him for the business of life, and render him a sorrow to all his friends ? Will the atheist conciliate the love of men by shewing us that he possesses not the fear of God ? Is not the miser pointed at with the finger of scorn, and doomed to the double curse of hoarding and guarding ? Is not a liar universally odious, and does he not pre- possess us against him even when he speaks truth ? Do not fraud and dishonesty mar a man's fortune, ruin his reputation, and hinder his success in life ? In truth, my brethren, there is not a sin but what, one way or another, is punished in this life. We often err egregiously by not attend- ing to the distinction between happiness and the means of happiness. Power, riches, and prosperity, those means of happiness and sour- ces of enjoyment, in the course of Providence, are sometimes conferred upon the worst of men. Such persons possess the good things of life, but they do not enjoy them. They have the means of happiness, but they have not happiness itself. A wicked man can never be happy. It is the firm, decree of Heaven, OF THE WICKED. 201 eternal and unchangeable as Jehovah him- self, that misery must ever attend on guilt ; that when sin enters, happiness takes its de- parture. Til ere is no such thing in nature, my brethren, — there is no such thing in nature, — as a vicious or unlawful pleasure. What we generally call such, are pleasures in themselves lawful, procured by wrong means, or enjoyed in a wrong way ; procured by in- justice, or enjoyed with intemperance ; and surely neither injustice, nor intemperance have any charm for the mind ; and unless we are framed with a very uncommon temper of mind and body, injustice will be hurtful to the one, and intemperance fatal to the other. Unruly desires and bad passions, the gratification of which is sometimes called pleasure, are the source of ahuost all the miseries in human life. VV hen once indulged, they rage for repeated gra- tification, and subject us, at all times, to their clamours and importunity. W hen they are gra- tified, if they give any joy, it is the joy of fiends, the joy of the tormented ; a joy which is pur- chased at the expence of a good conscience, which rises on the ruins of the public peace, and proceeds from the miseries of our fellow- creatures. The forbidden fruit proves to be the apples of Sodom and the grapes of Go- 202 ON THE UNHAPPY STATE morrah. One deed of shame is succeeded by years of penitence and pain. A single indul- gence of wrath has raised a conflagration which neither the force of friendship, nor lengtli of time, nor the vehemence of intercession, could mitigate or appease, and which could only be quenched by the effusion of human blood. One drop from the cup of this powerful sorce-^ ress, has turned the living stream of joy into waters of bitterness. " There is no peace, saith " my God, to the wicked." If a wicked man could be happy, who might have been so happy as Haman ? Raised from an inferior station, to great riches and power, exalted above his rivals, and above the princes of the empire, favourite and prime minister to the greatest monarch in the world. But with all these advantages on his side, and un^ der all these smiles of fortune, his happiness was destroyed by the want of a bow, usual to those of his station, from one of the porters of the palace. Enraged with this neglect, this vain great man cried out in the pang of dis- appointment, " All this availeth me nothing, " so long as I see Mordecai sitting at the king's ^' gate." This seeming aifront sal deep on his mind. He meditated revenge. A single vic- tim could not satisfy his malice. He wanted OF THE WICKED. 203 to have a glutting vengeance. He resolved, for this purpose, to involve thousands in de- struction, and to make a whole iiation fall a sacrifice to the indulgence of his mean-spirit- ed pride. But, as it generally happens, his wickedness proves his ruin, and he erected the gallows on which he himself was doomed to be hanged ! In the third place, If we consider man as an hidividual, we shall see a further confirmation of the truth contained in the text, " That there ^' is no peace to the wicked." In order to strengthen the obligations to virtue, Ahiiighty God hath rendered the prac- tice of sin fatal to our peace as individuals, as well as pernicious to our interest as members of society. From the sinner God withdraws his favour and the light of his countenance. How dark will that mind be, which no beam from the Father of lights ever visits ? How joyless that heart which the spirit of life never aiikimates ! When sin entered into paradise, the angels of God forsook the place. So from the soul that is polluted with guilt, peace, and joy, and hope, those good angels, vanish and depart. What succeeds to this family of hea- ven ? Confusion, shame, remorse, despair. — Ccetera (UsimL SERMON IX. ON OBEDIENCE TO THE DIVINE LAW. Psalm Ixxviii. 1. Give ear^ 0 my people, to my law. This is the call which God addressed to his ancient people, and which at sundry times and in divers manners he addresses to the world. It is the voice of the Almighty to mankind in every age. His voice all nature hears, and his law all nature obeys. The sun moves in the path marked out for him by his Creator ; the moon keeps her appointed course, and the host of heaven proceed from age to age in their original beauty. The seasons know their time, and the earth obeys the law impressed upon it at first. The elements confess their Lord ; the tempest hears his voice, and the sea sub- mits to the mandate which said, " Hitherto ** shall thou come, and no farther ; here shall " thy waves be stayed." The orders of celestial sph'its, the principalities and powers of heaven, OBEDIENCE TO THE DIVINE LAW. 205 obey the command of their King, minister to the purposes of his providence, and, in acts of goodness, or on errands of mercy, perform his pleasure. Throughout all nature, one being alone is deaf to the voice and disobedient to the com- mand of God, that is, the sinner. He alone has departed from his sphere, has rebelled against the law of his nature, and rejected the universal dominion of the Deity in the uni- verse. To recall him from this rebellious state, to replace him in his original station, and re- store him again to the kingdom of God, is the end of true religion. For this purpose Moses and the prophets were inspired. Jesus and the apostles were sent. For this purpose the hea- ven was opened, the Almighty appeared, and the voice uttered to the world, " Give ear, my " people, to my law." Your obligation to obey this law will appear, if you consider that it is the law of your na- ture, that it is the law of heaven, that it is the law of society, and the law of happiness. In \\\e first place. It is the law of your na- ture. When God created man, he did not leave him to act at random, or to live in a state of 206 ox OBEDIENCE TO anarchy. He gave him a law, the emanation of eternal wisdom and the transcript of Di- vine perfection. The same fingers that upon Mount Sinai wrote the commandments upon tables of stone, had written them beforehand upon the living tables of the human heart. The foundation of morality is laid deep in hu- man nature ; its principles result from the con- stitution of our frame ; and its authority will be supreme, while there is a mind to discern, or a heart to feel, or a conscience to judge. Darkness is not more different from light, nor bitter from sweet, than good is from evil, and virtue from vice. You are no more masters of the emotions that rise in the mind, than of the sensations which rise in the body. You can no more give the law to internal nature than to external nature. You may as well call the sun to come down from the firmament, as aim to extinguish the light of heaven which shines in the breast. Inferior animals are in- capable of morality. They have no law but instinct ; they are left to obey the call of ap- petite, and to follow blindly the prevailing im- pulse. But it is not so with man. Reason is his law, and the dictate of virtue is the dictate of nature. The question with him is not, what is the call of appetite ? but what is the THE DIVINE LAW. 207 voice of reason ? Not what is the prevaihng impulse ? but what is the impulse which ought to prevail ? If, therefore, you disown the obligation of this law, you renounce your nature and unman yourself. If you claim an exemption from the authority of reason, and sentiment, and conscience ; if you take the licence to indulge every appetite and every passion without res- traint or controul ; you may ; — but first come down from your rank in the scale of being ; break off all intercourse with rational creatures; depart from the society of men ; go to your e- quals ; herd with the animals of the field, and eat grass with the brutes that perish : there display humanity degraded : exhibit thyself a monument of folly and guilt, to be pointed at by the hand of scorn, and to be shunned like the pestilence. If ever, like the Monarch of Babylon, thou shalt rise from thy degraded state ; if ever thine understanding shall return, and thou shalt be able to lift up thine eyes to heaven, like him thou wilt praise, and extol, and glorify the King of heaven, and give ear to that law which he promulgates to the armies in heaven and to the inhabitants of the earth. In the second place, Your obligation to obey 208 ON OBEDIENCE TO this law will further appear when you consider that it is the law of Heaven. It comes to you not only recommended by your own authority, but it comes enforced by a higher authority, that of God himself. The appearances of the Almighty, to confirm the law, the prophets, and the gospel, were made for the instruction and improvement of those who saw them, and are recorded for the in- struction and improvement of those who read them. The mighty God, even the Lord, hath spoken, and called the earth from the rising of the sun to where he goeth down. The first promulgation of the law was from mount Sinai. To strike a rude and barbarous people, to re- claim a perverse and obstinate generation, it was requisite that the arm of power should be stretched out, and that the majesty of terror should be displayed. Accordingly, when the law was given from Sinai, there was blackness, and darkness, and tempest ; there were thun- ders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount ; and when Moses brought the people from the camp to meet with God, they trembled as one man ; and hill Sinai was al- together on a flame, and the smoke thereof went up as the smoke of a furnace, for the Lord descended upon it in fire, and the moun- THE DIVINK LAW. 209 tain quaked ; and when the voice of the trum- pet sounded long, and waxed louder and louder, God called Moses up to the top of the mount, and gave the law. The same precepts that were given upon Mount Sinai, Jesus Christ came to confirm and to extend. At his first public appearance, in his sermon on the mount, he republished, re- stored, and perfected the law. The new dis- pensation indeed was different from the old. The God of Abraham dwelt in darkness, and was clothed with terror. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ dwells in light, and is clothed with grace. Miracles of power con- firmed the one ; miracles of grace distinguish- ed the other. We come not to Mount Sinai, but to Mount Zion. At the publishing of the gospel no fire descended, no thunders rolled : at the publishing of the gospel, when our Sa- viour, being baptized, entered upon his minis- try, the heaven was opened over his head, the Spirit descended upon him in the form of a dove, the messenger of peace, and a voice came from the overshadowing cloud, " This is my " beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.'* Revelation then concurs with reason in esta- blishing the law, and to the voice of nature is added the voice of God. Such an authority VOL. IL o 210 ON OBEDIENCE TO you will not despise. You will not join with the impious king of Egypt, who hardened his heart, and said, '' Who is the Lord that I " should obey his voice ? In the third place, Our obligation to obey the law will be further manifest, when we con- sider that it is the law of society. That righteousness exalteth a nation, and that vice is not only a reproach, but also a de- pression to any people, are truths so universal- ly received as to require no confirmation. All lawgivers in all ages have thought so, and made it their object to cultivate justice, and temper- ance, and fortitude, and industry, conscious that public virtue is the source of public happiness. Philosophers and moralists have been of the same opinion ; and have taught, with one con- sent, that the good morals of the people were the stability of the government, and the true source of public prosperity. Practice and ex- perience have confirmed the trvith of these spe- culations. If we consult the history of the most renowned nations that have made a figure in the world, we shall find that they rose to greatness by virtue, and sunk into contempt through vice ; that they obtained dominion by their temperance and probity of manners, THE DIVINE LAW. 211 and a serious regard to religion ; and when they grew dissokite, corrupted, and profane, they became slaves to their neighbours, whom they were no longer worthy to govern. Pub- lic depravity paves the way for public ruin. When the health and vigour of the political constitution is broken, it is hastening to its de- cline. When internal symptoms of weakness appear, the least external violence will accom- plish its dissolution. It is a duty, then, which we owe to society, and to our country, to observe the rules of righteousness ; for in order to be good mem- bers of society, and true patriots, we must be virtuous men. To shew your obligation to give ear to this law, let us, in the last place, consider that it is the law of happiness. This, in some measure, follows from what has been already said ; for if virtue be neces- sary to the happiness of public societies, it is also necessary to the happiness of private fa- milies, and of private men, unless we can sup- pose the body politic to be flourishing, while every individual is in misery and distress. In consulting for others, all agree that virtue leads to happiness ; but if for others, why not for o2 212 OBEDIENCE TO THE DIVINE LAW. you ? When you consult for them, you have no passions to darken your understanding, and per- plex your judgment. When you consider with coolness and with candour, the observation and experience that all of us have had occasion to make, will be sufficient to convince you, that the law of the Lord is truly favourable to the interests, and friendly to the happiness of man ; that it corresponds to the just dictates of the mind, and consults the best affections of the heart. What does it forbid ? desires, passions, and vices, from which, for our own sakes, we should abstain, though there was no such prohibition. It forbids the gratification of desires which would lead us to ruin ; the in- dulgence of passions, which are the troublers of human life, and the source of our greatest misery ; the commission of vices which weaken remorse, and deliver us up to the tormentors. What does the law of the Lord command ? What is lovely, and pure, and praiseworthy ; what tends to make men peaceable, gentle, humane, merciful, benevolent, and happy. SERMON X. ON JESUS CHRIST DYING FOR SINNERS, Romans v. 7, 8. For scarcely for a righteous man will one die; yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die ; but God commendeth his love to- ward us, in that, while we were yet sinners^ Christ died for us. The Apostle Paul, the author of this epistle, was bred at the feet of Gamaliel, and instruct- ed in all the learning of the Jews. To his Hebrew literature he superadded the erudition of the Gentiles; for we find him, in his epistles, quoting their celebrated authors, and alluding to their remarkable customs, and the events in their history. These verses which I have now re^d, carry an allusion and reference to a dis- tinction of characters which prevailed among the Jews, and to some illustrious actions per- formed by the Romans, to whom he addressed this epistle. 214 ox JESUS CIIIITST The Jews distinguished menwitli respect to their characters, into sinners, just men, and good men. Sinners are those who violate the laws of God and man, who disturb the public peace, and are bad members of society, A just man is one who does no injury to his neighbour, who gives no cause of offence to the world, who pays his debts, who conforms to the letter of the law, and who is not defi- cient in any of the great duties of life. A good man is one who goes farther ; who is not only innocent, but useful ; who is not only de- cent, but exemplary ; who is generous, bene- ficent, public-spirited ; who sacrifices his ease, his pleasure, his safety, and, when his country calls for it, who sacrifices his life for the public good. Such was the character of this Apostle himself. In order to propagate the Christian religion among the nations, the greatest bless- ing of God to the world — -in order to diffiise the knowledge of this religion, he gave up all that was dear in life, undertook long and ha- zardous journeys, exposed himself to the dan- gers of the deep, to the chains of captivity, to the sword of the persecutor, to the derision and hatred of Jews and Gentiles. According- ly, he met with this return, which he here men- tions as being sometimes made to superior DYING FOR SINNEUS. 215 goodness ; for we read in the sixteenth chap- ter of this epistle, that he found persons who for his life would have laid down their own. The Apostle also in these verses alludes to some illustrious actions performed by the Ro- mans, to whom he addresses this epistle. The love of their country is the darling passion of that great people. All the soul went out in this generous ardour, and every private affec- tion flowed in the channel of the public wel- fare. Judge what a strong hold it must have taken of the heart, when it glowed even in the female breast ; when the wife encouraged the husband, and the mother exhorted the son, to die for their country. It was a prin- ciple in the breast of every Roman, that he owed his life to his country. This being the spirit of the people, gave birth to many illustri- ous and heroic actions. The spirit of patriot- ism glowed among the people for many ages of the republic; one hero sprung from the ashes of another ; and great men arose from age to age, who devoted themselves to death for the public good. These being the most ce- lebrated actions in the history of mankind, the Apostle here compares them with the death of Jesus Christ. Following the train of thought suggested by the Apostle, I shall shew you the 216 ON JESUS CHRIST infinite superiority of that love which prompt- ed Jesus to die for the sins of the world, to that patriotism which prompted the heroes and great men of old to die for their friends or for their country. In the Jii'st place, then. Those who devoted themselves to death for their friends or their country, submitted to a fate which they must one day have suffered : But Jesus Christ, who is the true God, and possesseth eternal life, submitted to death for our redemption. We are all born mortal creatures. Sprung from the dust, we return to the dust again. The sentence of the Lord is passed upon all fleshy and there is no exemption from the law of mortality. We know not how soon our last hour may come. The darts of death are con- tinually on the wing ; the arrow of destruction flieth by night, and smiteth at noon-day ; vic- tims are daily falling at our right hand and at our left, and we know not how soon we too may fall a sacrifice. He, therefore, who ex- poses himself to danger, or devotes himself to death for the good of others, only anticipates the evil day, only resigns a life which he must soon part with, and submits to a doom which, sooner or later, he must lay his account to en- DYING FOR SINNEIIS. 217 dure. But Jesus Christ was the King eternal and immortal. His outgoings were from ever- lasting, and he is God blessed for ever. He would have remained happy in himself, happy in the contemplation and enjoyment of his own perfections, happy in the administration and government of the moral world, though he had never cast an eye of pity upon mortal man. He would have inhabited the praises of eter- nity though man had never been redeemed. Yet for our sakes he left the glories of the hea- vens, he veiled his Divniity in a form of flesh, he took our nature with all its infirmities upon him, he submitted to every affliction which em- bitters human life, and he suffered an excruci- ating, an ignominious, and an accursed death. For the salvation and the happiness of the world which he had made, the King of Kings appear- ed in the form of a servant, and the Lord of life was crucified at Jerusalem. A crown of thorns was put on that head where the diadem of nature was wont to sit. Where is the deed of human virtue that can stand in comparison with this meritorious exertion of the Divine benevolence ? All the perfection of created na- ture fades before it, and is but a foil to set ofF the brightness of redeeming love. In the second place, Those among the sons 218 ON JESUS CHRIST of men who devoted themselves to death for the good of others, made the sacrifice for their friends, for those by whom they were beloved ; but Jesus died for his enemies. We are united to our friends by the strongest ties of affection ; we are interested in all that befalls them, and adopt their joys or their sor- rows. Long habits of attachment, and a mu- tual intercourse of good ofKces, draw close the cords of friendship, and make them twine with every string of life. Hence we are fellow-suf- ferers with our friends in distress ; we are af- flicted in their afflictions ; so that suffering a great temporal evil for them is in reality remov- ing a load from our own minds. Thus strong- ly are we attached to our friends, nor is the charm less which binds us to the community. The sacred name of country strikes us with veneration ; we feel an enthusiasm for our na- tive land ; when it is in danger, hardships are cheerfully undergone, and death scarce appears an evil in such a glorious cause. Such induce- ments there are to him who dies for his friends or his country. But Jesus died for the re- demption of his enemies, for those who threw off their allegiance to him, who rebelled against his authority, and rose up in arms against their benefactor. Their groans would never DYING FOR SINNERS. 219 have reached his ear, nor afflicted his heart, had he not graciously inchned to sympathise. The misery of mankind would never have disturb- ed the liappiness of the Divine nature, would never have thrown a cloud over the serenity of the heavens, nor made a pause in the al- leluiahs of the blessed, had he not chosen to bear their sorrows. It was unmerited good- ness, it was sovereign mercy, it was pure be- nevolence, it was love truly divine, that mov- ed him to interpose in our behalf. He saw the race of men on the very brink of destruc- tion ; he saw the bottomless pit just opening to swallow them up, and, in the moment of danger, the Redeemer appeared, gracious to pity, mighty to save. A cloud had long been 2:atherino; over the nations, the hand of the Omnipotent was stretched out in wrath, the thunder of his power was ready to burst over a devoted world, when the Patron and Inter- cessor of the human race stepped in, and stay- ed the avenging arm with the words of mercy : ** Lo, I come to do thy will. Sacrifice and burnt " offerings thou dost not desire. On me let " thine anger fall. Let me die that these may ^' live." In the third place, he who dies a martyr for 220 ox JESUS Clin 1ST the public good, departs with honour; but Jesus made his departure with ignominy and shame. It is honourable, it is glorious, to die for the public good. He who falls a martyr to the happiness of mankind, is supported by the na- tive fortitude of the soul, is carried forward by the consciousness of a good cause, is en- couraged with the admiration and applause of the world, and becomes famous to all succeed- ing times. To him the temple of fame spon- taneous opens its gate, his name is repeated with applause, honours are paid to his me- mory, and he is tiie heir of perpetual praise. Circumstances of such a nature take away the terror of death. The secret consciousness of a great soul, the approach of an event which is so glorious in itself, and so beneficial to the world, the anticipation of the praises of suc- ceeding times, exalt the man, and fill him with the elevation and magnanimity of virtue. Few enjoyments in life can be compared with a death so glorious. But Jesus Christ submit- ted to the ignominious death of the cross. The greatest trial and exercise of virtue is when an innocent man submits to the imputation of a crime, that others may be free from the nunishment. This our Lord did. In his life DYING FOK SINNKKS. 221 he was branded with the blackest names, and accused of the most flagitious crimes ; brand- ed with the names of publican and sinner, ac- cused of associating with the profligate, and of being in compact with the powers of darkness. But at his latter end, in a peculiar manner, he endured the shame. He was betrayed like an impostor by one of his own disciples, ap- prehended like a robber by a band of soldiers, led like a malefactor through the streets of Je- rusalem, nailed like a murderer to the accursed tree, and, in the sight of all Israel, died the death of a traitor and a slave, that he might atone for the real guilt of men. In all these respects, the merit of Jesus was infinitely su- perior to the heroism of men. As the heavens are higher than the earth, as the Most High God excells the offspring of the dust, so much superior was his love to their beneficence. To conclude. Let me ask you, my bre- thren, what impression does the love of Je- sus make upon your hearts, what influence does it exert upon your lives ? They whose minis are dazzled with the ideas of false glory, with arms and conquests, and fields of battle, and triumphal processions, and songs of vic- tory, may not be disposed to relish those acts of heroism which liave nothing of the sword 222 CHRIST DYIXG FOK SINNERS. in them. But to the mmd that is freed from vulgar prejudice, and acquainted with true glory, the triumphs of Jesus will appear the greater that they are the triumphs of peace, that they were not obtained at the expence of slaughtered thousands, nor erected on the ruin of nations, but rose on the basis of general hap- piness, and everlasting life to all good men. Are you then actuated with a proper sense of gratitude to this Captain of our salvation ? The temporal hero and deliverer is received with a tribute of applause ; every heart beats with admiration, and every tongue is vocal in his praise. Let us also celebrate the Prince of Peace, the Redeemer of our fallen race, who delivered us from everlasting wrath, and open- ed a way to the heavens by the blood of his cross. Beautified with his salvation, let us re- joice in the Saviour, saying with the Apostle, " God forbid that I should glory, save in the " cross of Jesus Christ." Let us also love Him who first loved us. Let us give the chief place in our hearts to that Divine Friend of man- kind, whose ajffection to us was stronger than death. SERMON XI. ON THE CHAUACTER OF THE RIGHTEOUS, Proverbs xii. S6. The righteous is more excellent than his neigh^ hour. The sentiments of men concerning virtue, and their own particular practice, form a very strange and striking contrast. Notwithstanding their own irregular or imperfect conduct, a general feeling, with regard to morality, pervades the human species. Philosophers have differed about the orign of moral distinctions, and de- livered various theories concerning virtue ; but the people who judge from their feelings, have no system but one ; and whenever right or wrong becomes the subject of decision, if the fact be fully explained, the voice of mankind is uniform and constant. Without this moral sense or sentiment, the 224 ON THE CHARACTJiR question with regard to virtue had never been started at all, nor exercised the ingenuity of the greatest and best spirits in every age of the world. For, independent of the national religions, men arose among the heathens who strove to improve or reform their countrymen ; the lights of one age shone to another ; the great and the good not only left their ex- ample, but lifted up their voice to ages which were to come. Religion gives its powerful sanction to the maxims of morality, and this volume was written to republish that law which is engra- ven on the heart. The book from which these words are taken was the work of a great king who sometimes left the throne to adorn it the more, and re- tiring from the splendid follies of a court, con- secrated his hours to the benefit of all poste- rity. It was addressed by Solomon to his son, and contains such ideas of religion^ and urges such motives to virtue, as are most effectual with the young : representing them as the perfection of human nature, and the true ex- cellence of man. '' The righteous," says he, " is more excellent than his neighbour." With great propriety is this picture set before the young ; for the love of excellence is natural OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 225 to the youthful mind. What is manly, what is generous, what is honourable, are then the objects of admiration and pursuit; fired with noble emulation, each ingenuous disciple as- pires to be more excellent than his neighbouro The objections against a holy life have pro- ceeded on maxims directly contrary to the text. The inducements to vice, which have been powerful in all ages, are the same that were presented by the tempter to our first pa- rents. Wisdom was promised, '^ Ye shall be ^' wise to know good and evil;" the attractions of ambition were presented, *^ Ye shall be as " gods ;" the allurements of pleasure were added, and the forbidden fruit recommended as " good for food and pleasant to the eye." If, in opposition to those it shall be shewn, that the righteous man is wiser, and greater, and happier, than his neighbour, the objec- tions against religion will be removed, the ways of Providence will be vindicated, and virtue established upon an everlasting found- ation. In the Jirst place, The righteous man is wiser than his neighbour. There is ;io part of his nature in which man is so earner,! to excel, and so jealous of a de- VOL. II. p 226 ON THE CHARACTER feet, as his understanding. Men will give up any part of their frame sooner than this ; they will subscribe to many infirmities and errors : they will confess a want of temper, and the proper government of their passions ; they will even admit deviations with regard to the lesser moralities, but never yield the smallest iota in what respects their intellectual abilities. No wonder that man is jealous of his un- derstanding, for it is his prerogative and his glory. This draws the line between the ani- mal and the intellectual world, ascertains our rank in the scale of being, and not only raises us above the inferior creatures, but makes us approach to a nature which is divine. This enters into the foundation of character ; for without intellectual abilities, moral qualities cannot subsist, and a good heart will go wrong without the guidance of a good under- standing. Without the direction and the go- vernment of wisdom, courage degenerates in- to rashness, justice hardens into rigour, and benevolence becomes an indiscriminate good nature, or a blameable facility of manners. Where then is wisdom to be found, and what is the path of understanding ? If you will trust the dictates of religion and reason, to be virtu- ous is to be wise. The testimony of all who have OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 227 gone before you, confirms the decision. In opposition, however, to the voice of reh'gion, of reason, and of mankind, there are multi- tudes in every age who reckon themselves more excellent than their neighbours, by tres- passing against the laws which all ages have counted sacred, the younger by the pursuit of criminal gratification, the old by habits of de- ceit and fraud. The early period of life is frequently a sea- son of delusion. When youth scatters its blandishments, and the song of pleasure is heard, " Let us crown ourselves with rose- <^ buds before they are withered, and let no " flower of the spring pass away ;" the inex- perienced and the unwary listen to the sound, and surrender themselves to the enchantment. Not satisfied with those just and masculine joys which nature offers and virtue consecrates, they rush into the excesses of unlawful plea- sure ; not satisfied with those fruits border- ing the path of virtue, which they may taste and live, they put forth their hand to the for- bidden tree. One criminal indulgence lays the foundation for another, till sinful pleasure becomes a pursuit that employs all the fa- culties, and absorbs all the time, of its vota- ries. p2 228 ON THE CHARACTER There is no moderation nor government in vice. Desires that are innocent may be indul- ged with innocence ; pleasm'es that are pure may be pursued with purity, and the round of guiltless delights may be made without en- croaching on the great duties of life. But guilty pleasures become the masters and the tyrants of the mind ; when these lords acquire dominion, they bring all the thoughts into captivity, and rule with unlimited and despot- ic sway. Look around you. Consider the fate of your equals in age^ who have been swept away, not by the hand of time, but by the scythe of intemperance, and involved in the shade of death. Contemplate that cloud which vests the invisible world, where their mansion is fixed for ever. When the sons of the Siren call you to the banquet of vice, stop in the midst of this career, pause on the brink, look down, and while yet one throb belongs to vir- tue, turn back from the verge of destruction. Think of the joyful morning that rises after a victory over sin, reflection thy friend, memory stored with pleasant images, thy thoughts like good angels announcing peace and pre- ,sagingjoy. Or, if that will not suffice, turn to the shades OP THE niGHTEOUS. 229 of the picture, and behold the ni'm that false pleasure introduces into human nature. Be- hold a rational being arrested in his course. A character that might have shone in public and in private life, cast into the shades of ob- livion ; a name that might have been uttered with a tear, and left as an inheritance to a race to come, consigned to the roll of infamy. All that is great in human nature sacrificed at the shrine of sensual pleasure in this world ; and the candidate for immortality in the next, plunged into the irremediable gulf of folly, dissipation, and endless misery.— Crt^- tera desunt. SERMON XII. RELIGION, AN ANTIDOTE TO THE DANGERS AND TEMPTATIONS OF THE WORLD. Daniel xi. 32. TJie people that do hiow their God shall be strong. The follies and vices which disfigure human life, do not always proceed from a principle of depravity. The thoroughly abandoned who sin from fore-thought and contrivance, who commit iniquity upon a fixed plan, and who are wicked merely from a love of wickedness, I hope and believe are not a numerous class. The indiscretions and vices into which men fall, I am apt to imagine, proceed often from a weakness of mind rather than from a bad- ness of heart. There is a certain feebleness in the springs of actions, a facility of disposition, a silliness of soul, which marks the character, ON THE TEMPTATIONS OF THE WOULD. 231 and runs through thehfe of many men, as per- nicious to them in the conduct of hfe, as a principle of actual depravity could be. Per- sons of this class, properly speaking, sustain no character at all. They assert not the rights of an independent being, they make no origin- al efforts of mind, but patiently surrender themselves to accident, to be guided by events, and to be fashioned by those with whom they live. They have not strength of mind to stand alone, they dare not walk in a path unless it is beaten. Feebleness, fluctuation, timidity, irresolution, fill up the period of their insigni- ficant days, and often betray them into crimes as well as indiscretions. This weakness of mind is not only per- nicious but criminal. There are mental de- fects that are inconsistent with a state of virtue. The Sacred Scriptures never draw the line of distinction between intellectual and moral qua- lities, but prescribe both as requisite to form the character of the righteous man. Hence a sound mind, as well as a good heart, is men- tioned as an ingredient in the character of a saint. Hence, in the sacred books, religion and virtue go under the name of wisdom, vice and wickedness under the name oi folly. Hence intellectual qualities become the subject of 232 RELIGION, AN ANTIDOTE TO THE divine precept, and we are called upon to be wise and to be strong, as well as to be holy and to be pure. In opposition to the feeble- minded, it is said in the text, that they who know their God, or are truly religious, are strong, Keligion^ when rightly understood, and virtue, when properly practised, give nerves ^nd vigour to the mind, infuse into the soul a secret strength, and, presenting a future world to our faith, make us superior to the dangers and temptations of the present. To shew what this strength is, I shall set be- fore you some of the most remarkable scenes in human life in which the feeble-minded give way, and in wliich they who know their God are strong. This strength, then, inspired into the mind by the knowledge of God, makes us superior to the opinion and fashion of the world, superior to the difficulties and dangers of the world, superior to the pleasures and temptations of the world, and superior to des- ponding fears at our departure from the world. In the^r^^ place, It makes us superior to the opinion and fashion of the world. To sustain an amiable character so as to be beloved by those with whom we live, to main- tain a sacred regard to the approbation of tlie TEMPTATIONS OF THE WOULD, 233 wise and good, and to follow those things which are of good report, when at the same time they are pure, and lovely? and honourable, is the duty of every honest man. But unhap- pily the bulk of the world is not composed of the wise and good ; religion and virtue are not always in the fashion ; to fix the rule of life, therefore, by the public approbation or dislike, is to make the standard of morality uncertain and variable. According to this doctrine, the Christian life would be the work of mere ca- price, there would be a fashion in morals as well as in dress, and what is virtue or vice in one age or country, would not be so in an- other. In such critical cases, when truth is to be defended, or integrity to be held fast against the current of popular opinion, the feeble-minded are apt to make shipwreck of the faith. The feeble-minded man rests not upon himself, he has nothing within to sup- port him, he thinks and acts, and lives by the opinion of others. " What will the world say?" is the question that he puts to himself on all occasions. Thou fool ! look inwards, thine own heart will tell thee more than all the world. This pusillanimous deference to the opinions of others, this criminal compliance to 234 RELIGION, AN ANTIDOTE TO THE the public voice, will make you lose your all, your soul. Hence, in certain companies, men are ashamed of their religion. They lend a pleas- ed ear to arguments that shake the foundations of their faith ; they join in the laugh that is raised at the expence of all that they hold sa- cred and venerable, and themselves assume the spirit, and speak the words of profaneness, while the heart often secretly agonizes for the liberties of the tongue. In opposition to such characters, the man who is truly religious, per- forms his duty through bad report as v/ell as through good. The applause of such fools as make a mock at sin, he despises. His stand- ard of moral conduct is his own conscience, well informed by the word of God. He knows that the fashion of the world passeth away, and vice or folly is not recommended to him by being practised by others. He remembers the words of his Master, '' Whosoever shall «' be ashamed of me, of him shall the Son of « man be ashamed." He dares to be singular and good : '^ Though all men forsake thee, yet « will not L" In the second place, This strength inspired TEMPTATIONS OF THE WOULD. 235 by true religion, makes us superior to the dif- ficulties and dangers we meet with in the world. The feeble-minded man is intimidated upon the slightest occasion : he starts at difficulties, and slirinks from dangers, whenever they pre- sent themselves. Happy to catch at any sub- terfuge, he finds or makes a thousand obstacles to the discharge of his duty ; and when any thing great is to be done, " there is a Hon in ^ the way." What infinite mischief has this pu- sillanimity done in the world ! How often has the best and most generous cause been lost by the weakness of its defenders ! How often have the most innocent and worthy characters suf- fered by the shameful cowardice of their friends! How often have men purchased to themselves an inglorious ease, an infamous tranquillity, at the expence of character and conscience, and every thing great and good ! Very different is the character of him who is strong in the Lord. When he is assured he is in the right path, he sees no obstacles in the way. Nothing is difficult to a determined mind. Through the divine aid, resolution is omnipotent. To the unwearied effiDrts of per- severing courage, art and nature have yielded : and there is a ladder by which the heavens 236 RELIGION, AN ANTIDOTE TO THE may be scaled. Through Christ strengthen- ing him, the man of God can do all things. No appearance of difficulty, no form of danger, no face of death, terrifies him from doing his duty. He gives up his possessions, his coun- try, his parents, his friends, his wife and chil- dren, his own life also, rather than desert the post of honour assigned to him by Providence. " None of these things move me," saith an apostle ; " neither account I my life dear unto " myself, so that I may finish my course with ^' joy. What, mean you to weep and to break *' my heart ? for I am willing not to be bound " only, but to die at Jerusalem, for the name " of the Lord Jesus." This was not the vain boast of men who were brave when the day of battle was distant, and who, in the midst of tranquillity, talked of des- pising danger. It was the speech of one who acted what he spoke. To the confirmation of it, we can adduce a cloud of witnesses, an host of martyrs, multitudes of all nations, and ages, and conditions, for whom the flames of the tormentor were kindled to no purpose ; against whom the sword of persecution was drawn in vain ; who held fast their integrity, though they knew death to be the consequence, and followed tlieir Redeemer in the path that was TEMPTATIONS OF THE WORLD. 237 marked with blood. Among these martyrs, doubtless there were many who naturally were as feeble and flexible, and timorous, as any of you are : but when they were inspired with this hidden strength, and were supported by the everlasting arms, the timorous waxed va- liant, and the feeble became strong in the Lord. Castera desunt. SERMON XIII. ON THE DANGER OF FOLLOWING A MULTITUDE TO DO EVIL. EXOD. XXIIL 2. Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil. Imitation is one of the great characteristics of the human species. As the passion for so- ciety is strong in the breasts of all rational creatures, the gratification of it is sought after as one of the highest enjoyments of life. The same passion that impels us to society, impels us to take part with our companions in their interests and inclinations. Insensibly and with- out thought we fall into their customs and their manners ; we adopt their sentiments, their pas- sions, and even their foibles, and follow the same course as if we were actuated by the same spirit. This principle appears in children even in the infant state. From their earliest years ON FOLLOWING A MULTITUDE TO DO EVIL. 239 they love to mimic whatever strikes the organs of sense ; and soon as the young idea begins to shoot, and the embryo of the manly cha- racter to appear, they form themselves insen- sibly upon the model of their parents, and the persons with whom they converse. To this, and not to any fancied physical cause, is owing that strong and striking resemblance, which we frequently find between the parents and the offspring ; a resemblance as remarkable ia the temper and character, as in the features of the face. This principle is not confined to individuals, it extends to nations. There is a national cha- racter, a national spirit, and even a national mode of thinking, down the current of which we are insensibly carried. When any novelty, any improvement in art or in science, makes its appearance in a nation, it flies from man to man, and from place to place by a kind of contagion, till it has overspread the whole country. So powerful is sympathy, and the love of imitation among men : and thus are our minds framed by the hand of our Maker, to accord with those of others ; like the strings of musical instruments in unison, when one is struck, the rest correspond to the impression, vibrate in the same kev, and sound the same 240 ON THE PANGEU OF FOLLOWING note. As this principle is implanted in us by the Author of our nature, it must no doubt be intended for great and important purposes. It serves to strengthen the bonds of society, to promote friendship and love, and is the apt- est and most successful means, not only to teach wisdom and goodness, but also to inspire them. But as all principles have their unfavourable and vicious extreme, to which they may be carried, so likewise hath this. Here, there- fore, hath the Almighty interposed, and set bounds to it which it ought not to pass, and on the farthest verge of innocence hath en- graven this inscription, " Hitherto shalt thou " come, and no farther ; here shall the pro- *' gress of thy imitation be stayed ;" or, as it is expressed in the words ofo ur text, " Thou " shalt not imitate men in their wickedness ; " thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil." In further treating on this subject, I shall, in the Jird place, endeavour to shew you by what means we are to keep ourselves from fol- lowing a multitude to do evil ; and, in the se- cond place, adduce some arguments that urge the necessity of this duty. T\\Qjirst thing proposed, was to shew you A MULTITUDE TO DO EVIL. 241 by what means we are to guard ourselves from the multitude that do evil. And, in the^r^^ place, In order to this, let us be early and firmly established in the prin- ciples of our holy faith. When we look about us into life, and behold how many persons en- ter into the world, without having their minds instructed, or their hearts established in the great principles of virtue and religion, we can- not be surprised that they go astray on occa- sion of the first temptation, and follow the multitude to do evil. Perhaps, they have ac- quired some general knowledge of Christiani- ty, but their knowledge of it is merely specu- lative, has played round the head, but has not reached the heart. Accordingly, as mere spe- culation is utterly unfit to combat the strength of passion, and the violence of temptation, they soon fall off and sink into all the corrup- tions of the world around them. This course of life is well described in the beautiful pa- rable of the sower and the seed. — " Behold a " sower went forth to sow ; and as he sowed, " some seeds fell upon the stony places, where " they had not much earth, and forthwith they *' sprung up, because tliey had no deepness of " earth ; and when the sun was up they were *' scorched, and because tliey had no root, they VOL. II. Q 2431 ON THE DANGER OF FOLLOWING «' withered away." That is, they had received the knowledge of the Christian religion, but they had not attained to that true faith, which is not barely an assent of the understanding to speculative truth, but which is also a principle of action which purifies the heart, works by love, and regulates the whole conversation. It is education chiefly that forms the human character; and it is a virtuous and religious education that forms the character of the Chris- tian. The mind at that early and innocent pe- riod, being untainted with actual guilt, and all alive to every generous impression, bends with- out labour to the force of instruction ; is easily formed to all the beauties of holiness, and by frequent and repeated acts, acquires habits of devo^'^n and virtue. The principles that are then imbibed, and the habits that are then ac- quired, although they may be sometimes shaken and weakened by the contagion of evil example, are seldom or never entirely obliterated. When the good seed is thus sown, we have the promise of Almighty God, that he will grant it the in- crease, and cause it to spring up into everlast- ing life. When the Christian doctrines are thus received, not merely as articles of belief, but also as principles of action, through the blessing of God, they will attain the ascendant A MULTITUDE TO DO EVIL. 24:3 over the unruly passions, and exert such an en- tire influence over the mind, as will enable it to resist temptation, and to come off triumph- ant. When the good foundation is thus laid, the winds may arise, and the rains may descend ; the tempest may blow and beat upon the house, but the foundation of the structure shall not fail, for it rests upon a rock. Next^ In order to preserve our innocence and integrity uncorrupted from the world, let us beware with what company we associate. Evil communications corrupt good manners. It is not indeed always in our power to avoid falling into the company of the wicked, but it is always in our power not to make such persons our confidents and companions. It is the grand secret of life, both with respect to virtue and to happiness, to select good and worthy persons to be our friends and companions; such persons with whom we would not only wisli to live, but also desire to die ; such persons whom we would not only choose to be the companions of our careless hours, but also the partners of our en- joyments through all eternity. There is something in the friendship and familiarity of good men, extremely great and honourable to human nature; and there are q2 244 ON THE DANGER OF FOLLOWING some considerations in Christianity that carry these to their highest perfection. The great commandment of our Lord to his followers, was to love one' another. In the holy sacra- ment of the supper, we are united together in such intimate bonds of union, as to become members of one body. We have one faith, one hope, one baptism, one Lord, the Father of all, one Saviour who died for the sins of the world, one Spirit who dwells in the hearts of the faithful. We are fellow heirs of the same grace of life, fellow expectants of the same heavenly rewards. Under these considerations, the friendship of good men would be attended with the most beneficial effects. They would support each other in the temptations and afflictions of life, and by quickening each other's diligence, pro- voke one another to love and to good works. Such associations of good and worthy persons, in times of public degeneracy and corruption, are spoken of in Scripture with the highest honour. " Then they that feared the Lord, " spake often one to another, and the Lord " hearkened and heard it ; and a book of re- " membrance was written before him for them ^' that feared the Lord, and that thought up- '' on his name. And thev shall be mine, A MULTITUDE TO DO EVIL. 245 " saith the Lord of Hosts, in that day when I " make up my jewels ; and I will spare them " as a man spareth his own son that serveth « him." Further^ In order to keep ourselves unspot- ted from the world, let us acquire firmness and fortitude of mind. There is no principle in human nature that is attended with a train of more dreadful consequences, than that facility of manners, that simplicity of disposition, that weakness of soul, which is easily persuaded from its resolution, to comply with every pro- posal. This good nature, as it is falsely called, is the worst nature in the w^orld, and is the occasion of more calamities, and of more crimes, than the actual inclination to wicked- ness. To oppose the actual vicious inclina- tion, Almighty God hath endued us with an understanding to discern its evil, and with a conscience to check its progress ; but this per- nicious feebleness of mind has the appearance of sociableness and of virtue, and, by that ap- pearance, deceives us to our ruin. Persons of such a character make no origi- nal efforts of mind. They seem born to enlist under a leader, and are the sinners or the saints of accident. Fortitude of mind, and 246 ox THE DANGER OF FOLLOWING Strength of resolution, are requisite for every purpose of human hfe. In particular, they are necessary to keep us from the contagion of evil example. Let us be cautious in laying down resolutions — let us be cautious in concert- ing plans of action : but when we have once resolved, let us be immutable. When we have chosen our path, let us hold on, though the temptations of life should beset us on one hand, and the terrors of death on the other, — not suf- fering the commotions of the world, nor even the changes of nature, to shake or to disturb the more steadfast purpose of our souls. The most valuable of all possessions is a strenuous and a steady mind, a self-deciding spirit, pre- pared to act, to suffer, or to die, as occasion requires. This is not an ideal character, which exists only in description. God hath never wanted his thousands who have not bowed the knee to the idols of the world. We can reckon up a venerable company of Patriarchs, and a sa- cred society of Prophets, a holy fellowship of Apostles, an innumerable army of Martyrs and Confessors, who were found faithful in the midst of the faithless, who approved them- selves the sons of God without rebuke, in the midst of an evil and profane generation ; and A MULTITUDE TO DO EVIL. 247 having received the recompence of reward, are now sitting on thrones, and singing hosannah in the heavens. The contemplation of their Hves should ani- mate us, to run the race that is set before us, with the same alacrity and zeal. Did we fre- quently and seriously call up to our remem- brance, the lives and the virtues of those who are now inheriting the promises ; did we, by faith and contemplation, represent to our minds those unseen rewards of which they are now in possession, we would feel our hearts burn with- in us : with zeal and emulation, we would in- hale a portion of the same divine spirit, and beholding as in a glass reflected, their virtues and victories, we would be changed into the same image, from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the living God. — Ccdtera desunU yf* B, The Sermon which was delivered in its finished state, by the Author, from this Text, was much admired by his hear- ers. The above is only a part of it, and a fiist copy. SERMON XIV. ON THE LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY. Psalm cxxiL 6. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem, Fellow-citizens, we now assemble, in obe- dience to the command of our Sovereign, to pray for the peace of Jerusalem, and for the prosperity of those that love her. Loyalty to our king, and love to our country, are the pas- sions which ought to animate us on this day. * That attachment which good citizens bear to their country, has ever been esteemed a virtue of the highest class. Not to mention the Greeks and the Romans, the history of the Israelites, with which you are better acquaint- ed, presents us with grand and striking in- * Upon a fast-day during the American war. ON THE LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY. 249 stances of patriotism and public spirit. They never mention the names of Zion and Jerusa- lem without gladness and rapture. The words which I have now read to you seem to have come from the heart, and breathe this spirit in the most lively manner. During their captivity, when they sat by the rivers of Babylon, the Jews thought upon Zion, and wept. When they prayed to heaven, they turned their faces towards Jerusalem. At their return from captivity, they are described as halting on a hill, over which they had to march, taking a fond look of Judea, from which they had been banished so long ; bursting into tears at the view, weeping as they went for- ward, at the recognizance of their ancient country, and their native land. Our Saviour, who was a pattern of all goodness, set us an example of this virtue. He loved his country, and uttered that celebrated exclamation of pa- triotism, " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often " would I have gathered thee, as a hen ga- " thereth her brood under her wings." As we now meet to pray for the peace or welfare of our Jerusalem (tor, in the language of Scripture, peace is put for all kinds of pros- perity), T shall endeavour to shew you, at this time, \vhcrein the public welfare consists. 250 ON THE LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY. It consists in the national liberty, the na- tional v/ealth and industry, the national de^ fence, and the national character. Thejirst ingredient in the public happiness is liberty ; a privilege invaluable, but frequent- ly misunderstood, and still more frequently abused. Absolute liberty to do what we please, is absolute power. If one alone, or a few, pos- sess this, the rest are in slavery ; if all have it, the whole must be in confusion. In order to prevent mutual encroachments, and ascertain each person's claims, liberty must be secured by a constitution, and guarded by law. In the state of nature, men are not only free, but in- dependent ; among the wandering tribes of savages, none claim authority over others ; but as such a state cannot subsist long, whenever men enter into formed society, they give up some of their natural rights, in order to pre- serve the rest ; they no longer wield the sword of justice themselves ; it is given to the ma- gistrate ; they intrust their property to the laws, and their protection to the king. Still, however, that is the happiest form of government, which best secures the natural rights of men. It is here that the British constitution triumphs. Possessing advantages which no other form of government ever pos^ ON THE LOVE OF OUU COUNTRY. 251 sessed, it stands forth tlie envy of the neigh- bouring nations, and a pattern to succeeding times. Liberty is the birthright of every Briton. That grand charter of nature to her children is estabhshed and confirmed by law. The constitution, like the providence of Hea- ven, extends its gracious regards to all : while it protects the poor in the possession of their legal rights, it checks the insolence of the great, and sets bounds to the prerogative of majesty itself, saying to the king, " Thus far, *' and no farther does thy power extend." All the members of the state are represented in the great council of the nation, and have a voice in the Legislature ; the subjects are tax- ed by their own consent. There is no despo- tic or discretionary power in any part of the constitution. No action must be deemed a crime, but what the laws have plainly deter- mined to be such ; no crime must be imputed to a man, but from a legal proof before his judges ; and these judges must be his fellow- subjects and his peers, who are obliged, by their own interest, to have a watchful eye over en- croachments and violence. " We must ever admire as a masterpiece of poHtical wisdom, and as the key-stone of civil liberty, that statute which forces the secrets of every prison 252 ON THE LOVE OF OUIl COUNTRY. to be revealed, the cause of every commit- ment to be declared, and the person of the ac- cused to be produced, that he may claim his enlargement, or his trial, within a limited time." By these means. Great Britain hath become what ancient patriots wished, a govern- ment of laws, and not of men. Highly favour- ed nation and happy people, if they knew their felicity, and did not, upon occasions, by their own fault, turn the greatest of civil blessings into a curse ! In the second place. The national welfare consists in the national industry and wealth. It is a vulgar error to suppose, that the great- ness of a nation depends upon the number of its inhabitants. It is not the number of the people, but their being usefully employed, that adds to the true grandeur and felicity of a state. A nation is a great family, where every member has a sphere marked out and a part to perform, and which, if it abounds with the idle, must fall to ruin. " Men crowd where the situation is tempting, and multiply ac- cording to the means of subsistence." Pre- sent the proper object ; let the mechanic arts be cultivated ; let manufactures abound, and commerce flourish ; and citizens will come from the cast and from the west, and from the ON THE LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY. 253 south and from the north. Every thing in the world is purchased by labour and by in- dustry. Our passions and desires are the causes of labour and industry. When a nation intro- duces manufactures and commerce, new de- sires are created, and new passions are raised ; men increase the enjoyments, and refine upon the pleasures of life. Not satisfied with what is necessary^ which is a vague term, and has a reference to the fancy, and to the habit of liv- ing, they look out for what is comfortable, what is elegant, and what is delicate in life. In order to supply these recent wants, the pos- sessor of land, the manufacturer, and the mer- chant, redouble their labour and attention. Thus new industry is excited, greater numbers of men are employed, the grandeur of the so- vereign and the happiness of the state come to coincide. By this means, a stock of labour comes to be laid up for public use. Trade and industry are in reality nothing but a stock of labour, which, in times of peace and tranquillity, are employed for the ease and satisfaction of individuals ; but in the exigen- cies of state, may in part be turned to public advantage. The cultivation of these arts is favoured, and forwarded in our country, by 254 ON THE LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY. that security which we enjoy. What every man has, is his own. The voice of the op- pressor is never heard in our streets. The hand of rapacious power is never stretched out to rob the industrious of the fruit of his labour. Thirdly^ The pubhc welfare consists in the national defence. The police of every well- modelled state has a reference to war and to national safety. The legislator of Sparta, one of the most famous of the ancient republics, thought that nations were by nature in a state of hostility : He took his measures according- ly, and observing that all the possessions of the vanquished pertain to the victor, he held it ridiculous to propose any benefit to his country before he had provided that it should not be conquered : a most necessary provision, for unless a state be sufficient lor its own de- fence, it must fall an easy prey to every in- vader. It was the intention of nature, that nations, as well as men, should guard them- selves. Hence lessons of war are delivered in Sacred Scripture, and principles of emulation and dissension are strongly implanted in the soul of man. Human nature has no part of its character, of which more striking examples are given in every part of the globe. What ON THE LOVE OF OUU COUNTRY. S55 is it that stirs in the breasts of ordinary men when the enemies of* their country are named? Whence are the prejudices that subsist be- tween different provinces and villages of the same empire and territory ? What is it that excites one half of the nations of Europe a- gainst the other ? The statesman may explain this conduct upon motives of national jealousy and caution ; but the people have dislikes and antipathies, which proceed from sentiment, not from reasoning. Among them the mate- rials of war and dissension are laid without the direction of government, and sparks are ready on every occasion to kindle into a flame. This being the disposition of the people, happy is that institution which prevails in a part of this island,^ of putting arms into the hands of the people, of making every citizen a soldier in his turn, and by this means hav- ing a force at hand to rise in arms at any sud- den emergency. When such a system of mi- litary arrangements takes place, the prosperity of a state becomes independent of single men; there is a wisdom which never dies, and a valour which is immortal. A state may hire troops, but valour is not to be bought ; the wealth of a na-r * Onginally published before the institution of Scottish Mi- litia. 256 ON THE LOVK OF OUR COUNTUY. tion will procure soldiers to fight its battles, but let it not be forgot, that the possessions of the fearful are easily seized, that a timorous multitude falls into rout of itself. Ramparts may be erected, and implements of war may be furnished, by a specific people ; but let it be remembered as an eternal truth, that there is no rampart which is impregnable to valour, that arms are only of consequence when they are in the hands of the brave, and that the only price of freedom is the blood of the free. When an ancient Spartan was asked what was the wall of his city ? he pointed to a band of brave men ; — a defence more permanent and more effectual than the rock and the cement with which other cities are fortified. Lastly^ The public welfare consists in the national character. That righteousness exalt- eth a nation, and that vice is not only a re- proach, but also a depression to any people, are truths so universally received, as to require little confirmation. All lawgivers, in all ages, have thought so, and made it their object to cultivate justice and temperance, and fortitude, and industry, conscious that public virtue is the source of public happiness. Philosophers and moralists have been of the same opinion, and have taught, with one consent, that the ON THE LOVE OF OIR COUNTRY. '257 morality of the people was the stability of the government, and the true source of public prosperity. Practice and experience have confirmed the truth of these speculations. If we consult the history of the most renowned nations that have made a figure in the world, we shall find, that they rose to greatness by virtue, and sunk to nothing by vice ; that they obtained dominion by their temperance, their probity of manners, and a serious regard to religion ; and that, when they grew dissolute, corrupted and profane, they became slaves to their neighbours, wliom they were no longer worthy to govern. Public depravity paves the way for public ruin. When the health and vigour of the political constitution is broken, it is hastening to its decline. When internal symptoms of weakness appear, the least ex- ternal violence will accomplish its dissolu- tion. Besides the natural tendency of vir- tue to make nations great and happy, if we have just notions of Divine Providence, if we believe that the perfections of God are at all concerned in human affairs, virtuous nations will be his peculiar care, and under his imme- diate protection ; he will counsel their coun- sellors, cover their armies in the day of battle, and crown them with victory and peace. VOL II. R SERMON XV. ON DEATH. Hebrews ix. 27. // is appointed to men once to die ; but after this the judgment. Death is the conclusion of all events ; of all that ever have been, and of all that ever will be. The schemes of the base, the plots of the ambitious, the projects of the visionary, the studies of the learned, all terminate here. How- ever different the paths be that we take in life, they all lead to the grave. Whilst, therefore, we make death the subject of contemplation, and meditate upon the house which is appoint- ed for all living, let us take this thought along with us, that we shall bear a part in those scenes which we now describe, and that we are meditating on a fate which will one day be our own. ON DEATH. 259 In i\\Q first place, Let us consider death as an event, the period of which is uncertain. In the days when Noah entered into the ark, they did eat, they drank, they married, they were given m marriage ; and the flood came, and destroyed them all. On the day that Lot went out of Sodom, they did eat, they drank, they bought, they sold, they plant- ed, they builded ; and it rained fire and brim- stone from heaven and destroyed them all. As it was in the days of Noah and in the days of Lot, even thus, my friends, shall it be to you when tlie day of death cometh. In the present state of things, the soul of man is blind to futurity. Surrounded with material objects, and occupied in present affairs, we make these the sole objects of attention ; we find in them the only sources of attachment, and overlook those spiritual and distant events on which our future life and happiness depend. Hence, we are always surprised with our latter end, and the day of the Lord cometh like a thief in the night. No instruction can make us so wise as to consider our latter end ; no warning can incite us to set our houses in order, that we may die ; and no example give the alarm so strong, as to set us on serious preparation for meeting with God. Void of thought, and r2 260 ON DEATH, careless of futurity, we live on from day to day, like the victim that plays and dances be- fore that altar where its blood is to be shed. Even after the longest life, and under the most lingering sickness, death comes unexpected ; the arrow is still unseen that strikes through the heart. This is not peculiar to a few men ; it de- scribes a general character, and is exemplifi- ed in all the classes of life. This infatuation does not arise from ignorance. You all know that death is certain ; you all know that it is generally unexpected. You assent to every thing that we can say upon this head, that there is no action of life but what may lead to its end, and no moment of time but what may be your last. You need not be informed, that death spares no age ; your own observation presents you with many instances of persons cut off in all periods of life. In that church- yard, you see graves of every length; on those monuments of mortality, you read the histories of the promising boy, of the blooming youth, of the man in middle life, and of the hoary head, mingled together in sad assemblage amongst the abodes of the dead. You can reckon up instances of persons cut off in a sud- den and unexpected manner ; of a Herod who ON DEATH. 261 was struck amidst the applauses of the people ; of a Jezebel who was thrown headlong from that window where she had prepared to dis- play herself to the people; of a Belshazar who was slain at a banquet, when he was ca- rousing with his princes, his concubines, and his wives ; and of a Holofernes, who met his fate, surrounded with his army, and crowned with victory and fame. VV^ith all these in your memory, you act as if you were vnmortaL Even the death of those who fall around us, and before our eyes, af- fects us not with serious concern. One per- son opposed us in a favourite object, and we rejoice at his decease ; another stood in our way to preferment and power ; the death of a third opens to us a prospect of rising to wealth and fortune : we profit not by all these lessons of mortality ; the voice from the tomb sends us back to the world, and from the very ashes of the dead there comes a fire that rekindles our earthly desires. We look upon all our neighbours as mortal ; we form schemes to ourselves upon their decease, but forget all the while that we ourselves are to die. O fool- ish and infatuated race, will you always con- tinue deaf to the voice of wisdom? Will neither the instructions of the living, nor the 262 ON DEATH. warnings of the dead, induce you to seri- ous thoughts ? Will you continue to lengthen your prospects, when perhaps you stand upon the very verge of life ; and can you enjoy the feast, when the sword hangs over your head, by a single hair ? Who knoweth what a day may bring forth ; the morning has smiled up- on multitudes, who before the evening have slept the sleep of death. Who knoweth how soon you may be hurried to the judgment-seat of God ? The ears which hear these sayings may soon be shut for ever; and the heart which now throbs at the thought, may, in a little, be mingled with the clods of the valley. Some who last Lord's day worshipped within these walls, are now gone to the eternal world, and God only knows how soon some of us may follow. Seeing then that life is so uncertain, that the thread thereof breaks at every blast, let me exhort you to set apart some time for se- rious meditation upon yoUr mortality. Let it be on some solemn occasion, in the silent hour of night, when deep sleep falleth on man, when midnight closeth awful all the world, and naught in nature is awake but God and thee : there, in deep and solemn meditation, think over the terrors of that liouse which is ap- ON DEATH. *263 pointed for all living, and with the ancient pa- triarch, say to corruption. Thou art my father, and to the worm, Thou art my mother and my sister. Ask seriously at your own heart, *' Should these eyes never open upon the light of another day; should the awful mandate is- sue forth from the Almighty Arbiter of life and death, — ^This night, this night, thy soul shall be required of thee ;" could you, without fear and trembling, face the tribunal of God, the Judo-e of all? If fria:hted nature starts back and trembles at the thought of instant