c i mmT'p jr®5^/A^iiiAH mmiri^s^D^ ^■'-. HLI3HI':i.i B\ V.'IL] Eri«:*^ oaS-ecl "b^ VVHiizar? E..1 A TREATISE CONCERNING RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS. BY JONATHAN 'EDWARDS, A.M. WITH AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, BY THE REV. DAVID YOUNG, PERTH. SECOND EDITION. GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR WILLIAM COLLINS; OLIVER & BOYD, WM. WHYTE & CO. AND WM. OLIPHANT, EDINBURGH W. F. WAKEMAN, AND WM. CURRY, JUN. & CO. DUBLIN ; WHI'ITAKER, TREACHER, & ARNOT ; HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO. SIAIPKIN & MARSHALL ; BALDWIN & CRADOCK ; AND HURST, CHANCE, & CO. LONDON. MDCCCXXXL Printed by W, Collins fc Co, Glasgow. INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. It is painfully instructive to reflect on the extent to which the depravity of man is at once indicated and aggravated, by the irreclaimable waywardness of his propensities and passions. By carrying this thought into the department of religion, we shall see the ex- pounding principle of his depravity laid open to us; and, while there may still be a mystery over the ori- gin of this principle, which remains to be cleared away by other evidence, yet we shall find it mani- fest, that man is the enemy of God by wicked works, by being previously his enemy in the spirit of his mind. But although we were to make a more con- fined use of the thought, and apply it only to those actions in which there is supposed to be no direct impiety, and which are interdicted by Christianity only in their excesses, or seasons, or circumstances, we shall still find an element working in the human mind — more mildly in some, and more fiercely in others, — which argues disease in its moral constitu- tion. The creatures which are merely animal are guided by instinct, and they are guided securely by it — maintaining a perfect uniformity, exhibiting a VI thorough consistency in their likings and aversions, and prosecuting both with amazing steadiness, in sub- serviency to their real enjoyments : or, if there be an instance of deviation, to any observable extent, in any individual of any one of their species, that in- stance is marked, and wondered at, as a singularity ; which shows at once how rarely it occurs, and how little power it has to shake our confidence in that, which with them is the ordinary course of nature. With man, however, the case is vastly different. Not only is he led astray by that which ought to be the glory of his nature, but even the law of instinct is baffled and bewildered, enfeebled by resistance, or vitiated by perversity, till it is no longer capable of a right appropriation of terrestrial things. Viewing him simply as made for this world, and keeping the specialities of religion altogether out of the question, there is still room for the assertion, that he is unac- countably the creature of extremes ; to be found in almost any state of mind except that one which tends most directly to promote his comfort. But the spring of all this extravagance is the violence of undisciplined propensity. We see his tendency to excess unfold- ing itself, and involving him in manifold little per- plexities, as he passes through the scenes of his early childhood ; for, in no instance does he leave the nursery till, in despite of the wisest guardianship, he has betrayed the existence of partialities and dislikes, which tend to do him injury, and are sure to end in bitterness, unless they are counteracted. The de- grees of such aberration may be greatly diversified, and the fondness of parental love may delude itself with imagined instances in which there is no such vu thing, — while, in these very instances, the symptoms of them may be quite apparent to the eye of an im- partial observer. Nor can we go far in accounting for these evils, on the principle that their victim is young ; for, were they pecuHar to youth, we might ascribe them to that hasty shooting forth of passion which belongs to the immaturity of his age, but which the slower growth of reason and experience would, in due time, restrain and rectify. Such a solution, however, is opposed by fact. Reason does grow up, and experience grows up ; for the dullest man, who is exempted from ab- solute idiocy, is placed in circumstances which con- strain an advance in both. But the evil is not cured. Propensity retains the control, and either allures the understanding into its measures, or prosecutes in- clination in defiance of her dictates. A comparison of the child with the man of years, may indeed show us, that, in the case of the latter, the disease has passed under various modifications, and, of course, has assumed an altered complexion ; and from this, it may be loosely inferred to have altogether disap- peared. On a closer inspection, however, it will be found, that such an inference is untenable, and that scarcely any thing has been gained by the superadded strength of faculty which elevates the man above the infant, but a corresponding accession to the power of his mental malady. The workings of injurious pre- dilection in the mind of the child, although violent and impetuous, may be combated with some hope of success ; because they have neither the firmness of purpose, nor the obstinacy of habit, which, if unre- sisted, they are afterwards to acquire. But the same via workings in the mind of the man are more deeply seated ; and just because they have been longer in the soul, and have the mastery there over a greater power of intellect, is it harder to subdue them. The boy may be found who is ready to part with his title to a rich patrimonial inheritance, for the means of a transient gratification ; but the man is as easily found who is prepared to sacrifice, not his patrimony alone, but his health, and character, and conscience along with it, to the idol of his pleasure. In this latter case there is more of intellect than in the former ; and, as the thing done is usually effected by a process, and not a single act, a greater degree of plan, and purpose, and practical energy, is required to achieve it : but, for this very reason, there is more of absurdity in the process, and of misery in the result. Nor let it be thought, that because the instance referred to may be called an extreme one, it is there- fore inapplicable to the general principle ; for it is nothing more than a fair specimen of that tendency of passion to sophisticate reason, which pervades the whole of human nature. The man whose secular wisdom is the greatest, and who, of course, has made the most of his outward circumstances, may be safely called upon to decide whether, in the few instances in which he has erred, (many in fact, but few in com- parison,) the error has not been the same in kind with, the one referred to, and differing from it only in the degree of its absurdity ; that is, whether in every one of these instances, his experience does not bear him testimony, that "inordinate affection" was, in one shape or other, the germ of the evil. Of course, we are not speaking of the calculations of business, IX or science, or politics, although even these come under the sweep of the principle to a greater extent than is always allowed, but of the common use of common things ; and in this department it must be conceded, that the verdict of all experience is distinct and uniform. The evil shows itself even in those indi- viduals whose moderation is the most exemplary; and, therefore, it must be held as universal. But why is it so ? Nay, why do such pernicious wanderings of desire display themselves at all among the sons of men ? By what strange fatality does it come to pass, that while beasts, and birds, and fishes, and insects, in all the multitudes of their tribes and families, are guided so securely to their native enjoyments, man alone has the faculty of perverting that system of provisions which is so finely adapted to his well- being, and of turning it, in defiance of his thirst for happiness, into a ministration of sorrow ? Is it true that the understanding of man, after all the dominion in which its Maker enthroned it on the day when he gave it being, and all the eulogy which sages have heaped upon it in the glow of their admiration of its high capabilities, is yet so inferior to instinct, for the great purposes of earthly existence, as to give him reason to regret that he was not created a beast ? It is not true. The darkness of atheism begins to lower over the very conception of the thought, and forewarns us to put it down, as we value our confi- dence in the theology of nature. The understand- ing of man, as a guide to sublunary comfort, is just as much superior to that mysterious something which is law to the appetites of animals, as it surpasses that something in its resemblance to him who is God over A 3 all : and to give up with this thought, would he vir- tually to surrender the great principle which renders a belief in the Deity of any practical benefit to us. On the recurrence of the question, then. Why are the appetites of man, though placed under the guar- dianship of reason, so precarious guides either to the sources of earthly good, or in the fruition of that en- joyment ? we are forced on the conclusion. That man is not now what he has been — that he has fallen from his primitive greatness — that some malignant influ- ence has blasted and enslaved him — and that this same influence, whatsoever it be, or whencesoever it has come, has its seat in the affections of his heart. Thus it is, that looking at him simply as he is in this world, without any reference to his higher rela- tions, we cannot account for the thing which troubles him, without admitting the depravity of his nature : nor can we be acquainted with that depravity, in the mode of its noxious operation, without observing that it uniformly bewilders the capacity of thought, by previously poisoning the spring of feeling. These considerations, if duly pondered, might be sufficient to redeem the religion of the heart from that disrepute, which is so scornfully cast upon it by men who arrogate a high standing for intelligence and wisdom. They might show such men, that in pure respect for their own understandings, this spe- cies of abuse, at least, ought to be left to those drivellers in impiety, who are as ignorant as they are profane. It is a truth which ought to strike them, that a man must be trained to the use of his affec- tions, in order to exercise his reason, or to keep his place in civilized society. Nor can it be easily denied, XI that those ancients were men of wisdom, had they not overdone there own maxim, who, with no eye to Christianity, and with httle concern about rehgion of any kind, regarded the discipHne of the passions as the grand secret of human education. But it is not in the things of this life merely that man feels " a law in his members warring against the law of his mind," nor is it in this department at all that the licentiousness of appetite inflicts the sorest injury on his ultimate well-being. The same susceptibility of misleading impression which distresses him in the things of this world, rises from what is secular to what is sacred, and, in the worst of its consequences here, we see but an image of its mightier devastations on his prospects for immortality. These things must be conceded by every man who admits the great prin- ciples on which Christianity is founded, and with no other man have we any concern at present ; but, if they are conceded, they make it manifest that the writer who goes into the science of religious affec- tions, or inculcates a practical attention to them, is not, on this account, a visionary, but proceeding on principles which, in civil life, are held essential to the right formation of human character. In studying such a subject, he is not gazing at the spectres of a sickly brain, but conversant with solemn realities, which are bound up in close and intimate alliance with the eternal destiny of every human soul. That nothing childish, or absurd, or visionary, has ever been written on this subject cannot be asserted ; but, if the abuse of a thing be a reason for despising it, then farewell to all that is excellent among the sub- jects of human thought. xu But while the subject is thus sanctioned by the dictates of a sound philosophy, and strongly recom- mended by its own intrinsic importance, it is impos- sible to look, with becoming interest, at the present state of the Christian world, without observing the irreligion of the affections in very striking display, and finding reason to deplore it as at once degrading to the Christian profession, and very grievously ob- structive of solid religious enjoyment. By no ad- missible stretch of charity can it be concealed, that the services which Christianity imposes are rendered irksome and insipid, or the minds of its professors made the seat of a frequently recurring uneasiness, while the aspect of professing society is overspread with the symptoms of ghastliness and death through the operation of this very cause. To deny this is impossible, with the Bible in our hands, and its glow- ing portraitures of primitive godliness looking full upon us, in contrast with living character. But are men in general aware of it ? Do they practically hold by it, as a dictate of sound reason, that, while the light of Christianity is to be admitted into the head, its quickening, and warming, and modifying efficacy is to be admitted into the heart, and suf- fered to coalesce with all its affections ? Does ob- servation warrant the assertion. That all, or even the greater part, who profess to rely on Christianity as the only effectual restorative of man, are atten- tive to the divine requisition, " My son, give me thine heart ?" We are constrained to say it does not. Nay, so great is the deficiency here, that were the most devoted man on earth to be brought to the test of his own reason, and estimated by the extent XIU to which he makes this surrender, according to rea- son's dictate, he would be found in woful deficiency. But if this can be said of the green tree, what must be the state of the dry ? In looking round on the reading pubUc, the eye settles upon one class of men, to whom the culture of religious affections can be a matter of no interest. They are living in a cherished disbelief of the doc- trines of Christianity, and although they comply per- haps with its public observances, yet they do so out of mere condescension to the credulity of their weaker brethren, or on grounds w^hich are purely secular, that they may not defeat the influence of what they regard as a very serviceable delusion. For among the more reputable even of sceptics themselves, the impression is pretty general, that something more than the philosopher can furnish, or the moralist en- force, is necessary to quell the insurrectionary spirit of man ; while, of all the expedients for this purpose which have ever yet been heard of, Christianity has the first and the fairest claim — a concession, by the way, which, if pressed to its consequences, might turn out to be more candid than considerate ; for that which, after an ample experiment, is found to be best suited to the present condition of man, is most hkely to have come from the God who made him. But to expostulate with such persons on their want of feeling on religious subjects, is to begin at the wrong end of the subject. They cannot be swayed by the authority of Christianity, because they disown that authority ; they cannot be awed by its sublimi- ties, because they have never recognized them : nor can they be softened into tenderness at the thought XIV of its flowing munificence, because they believe it to have no existence except in the day-dreams of visionary minds. We may tell them, that this exalted offspring of the Deity has resources of her own to sustain her, without the aid of their hypocrisy ; that, in the consciousness of intrinsic competency for ex- tending her empire over the human family, she scorns the proffer of their hollow alliance ; that she is so pure, and so gentle, and so full of good fruits, as to maintain her own credit and support her own pre- tensions ; and that, if they will not do justice to her credentials, by yielding them the homage of an hon- est belief, they had better refrain from her, and let her alone : but to claim from them those affections, which spring from her genius, and felicitate the hearts of her subjects, would be to expose her, in all her sacredness, to their impious derision. Nor do we deprecate such an exposure for her sake, but for theirs. She may be maligned, or resisted, or detained in unrighteousness, but she cannot be exterminated ; and she is fearful in taking vengeance. The de- mand is made upon them, first for belief, and then for fervent affection, as the result of that belief; and to neutralize the demand, is as impossible as to break loose from the control of the God of Nature. Chris- tianity is " the kingdom of God," and evinced to be so by signs, and wonders, and mighty deeds. The present administration of this kingdom may be con- verted into " a stone of stumbling or a rock of offence ;" and if a man " shall fall on this stone, he shall be broken ; but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder." It is that portion of the professing community, XV then, who give way to the truth of our religion, as well as take part in its outward observances, who are most directly accessible in a discussion of this kind. With them, the advocate of Christianity has at least this advantage, that they are at one with him, or take themselves to be so, as to the reality of the great subject for which he pleads. In this depart- ment there are two modifications of conduct, or two extremes, in religious affections, which come very pro- minently into view. The one is a total destitution of these affections, the other a diversified irregularity, or palpable want of wisdom in the culture and dis- play of them ; and although the first of these may be regarded as the most prevalent, as well as in itself the most injurious, yet they are both to be met with in the present state of reUgious society, and are both operating very injuriously to the diminution of Chris- tian piety. However strange the thing may appear, it is never- theless undeniable, that there are many persons, pro- fessing Christianity, and prepared, in words, to sound its praises, who have never surrendered their hearts to its influence, nor ever seriously proposed to do so : although placed in circumstances where the tendencies of this influence are presented to their view in inspired description or in living character, they think of it, and talk about it, as does a blind man about the beauties of colour, or cherish, perhaps, so inveterate a dislike of it, that, were the question put to them in the mildest possible manner, or with the most bene- volent intentions. What do you know of the religion of the heart ? they could scarcely refrain from resent- ing it as the language of unbearable insult. Still XVI they do not esteem themselves profane men, nor do they wish to be regarded as such by others. Their conduct is measured by the rules of a correct morality; their presence in the social circle may be a protection from the nuisance of flagrant impiety ; or their in- fluence a valuable auxiliary to the dispensers of reli- gious instruction. They make their appearance among Christian worshippers, perhaps, with a com- mendable regularity ; they take part in the prayers or the melodies of the scene, with a most exemplary outward decorum ; and they listen, or seem to listen, to whatever is convincing or instructive, or admoni- tory or consoling, in a diversified Christian ministra- tion, while they pass through the whole with as much apathy, as if mere good-breeding were the sum total of social religion. It is admitted, indeed, that the man who is thus precise in his devotion to the ceremony of religion, must come to be interested in it, either pleasurably or otherwise. The very growth of habit, as super- induced by practice, will contribute something to this; while his partialities for a particular ministration, or his aversion to it, with the display of talent or imbe- cility, of taste or vulgarity, of eloquence or its op- posite, of decided churchmanship or thorough-going dissenterism,* which characterize it, may stimulate the emotions, or call forth the expression of approbation or dislike. These emotions, however, are not to be confounded with religious affections. A man is not religious because he admires what is excellent, or re- * These terms, it will be seen, are restricted to the mere secta- rianism, which may render a man a bigoted devotee, and, of course, a discredit to either tlie church or the chapel. XVll probates what is bad, in the modes or appendages of Christian worship. The two things are as entirely distinct, as the symmetry of a human body and a piece of attire by which it is adorned or disfigured. Feel- ings excited in this way, although tending, by alliance, to excite or repress the spirit of devotion, are, in them- selves,* absolute neutralities, which may rise into the highest delight without being subUraated by the slightest tinge of Christian piety, or sink into the deepest disgust without being impious, provided that, in both cases, they be sustained by a proper estimate of their exciting; cauSe. Such a confusion of ideas is, nevertheless, very prevalent; and such appendages as have been specified, are very frequently taken up as the theme of applause or reprehension, just as if this were religion : while the spiritualities of the sub- ject, with the topics for devout reflection and hal- lowed conference, which are suggested by its every service, are left, like the robes of the ofliciating priesthood, within the precincts of a place of worship, nor ever permitted to mingle themselves in any form whatever with the intercourse of social or domestic life. It is to this state of mind that we are to trace that ridiculous medley of avocation to which many indi- viduals, and many famiUes, are regularly given upon the first day of the week, where attendance at church, and the more retired species of festivity and amuse- ment, andgossippers onthetradesmanship of preachers, and the reading of a newspaper, and the perishing tattle of the day, and the yawn of absolute ennui, are blended together in one accordant mass of absurdity and irrehgion, while every thing which properly be- longs to that day is parried off from the heart, as if XVlll pregnant with contagion. A single impulse of celes- tial feeling would put to flight this whirl of frivolities, or convince the man who gives way to it, that he is under the frown of the God of heaven. But if the first day of the week be thus dissipated into vanity — if the solemnities of that selected season, which God has ordained to be kept holy, can neither awe the soul into thoughtfulness, nor dissolve it into scriptural con- trition, nor attune it to the melody of spiritual joy, it would be vain to look for a better state of mind at any other season. In such a case as this, the every- day forms of domestic religion, which, when animated by its spirit, are so finely fitted to sweeten and con- solidate the relations of families, with the sublimating tendencies of the pieties of the closet, must be alto- gether unknown. Or if a few shreds of them make their appearance, they are so dry, and meagre, and ill sustained, as only to increase the moral desolation. The man who has no religion on the Sabbath, although frequenting the scene of its appointed ministration, must of necessity have as little on every other day : for if the influence of that ministration could not warm his soul into adoration, while in the act of appealing to his conscience, or as yet fresh in his recollection, how can it be expected to do so after its impression is weakened by the intervention of secular pursuits. From the use, then, to which a man is in the habit of putting the Christian Sabbath, we may safely esti- mate the tenor of his life. If, on that day, he give no scope to the exercise of those affections which are specifically religious, it may be confidently affirmed, that a still deeper desecration will sit down upon his spirits amidst the busmess of ordinary life. XIX It were indeed a happy relief from this conclusion, could it be said with truth, that these strictures are hypothetical, and have little specific bearing on exist- ing circumstances : but the fact, that the evil exists in a multitude of instances, and is held compatible with a profession of Christianity, while the descrip- tion given of it is short of the reality, is too notorious to be denied. An individual may indeed be situated in the midst of a pious sequestered circle, who are compact and happy in each other, and see little of the great world, but what is cheering and auspicious ; and in this case, he may take it for granted, that what he does not know of the religion of his times, is much of a piece with what he knows. But let him look at the evolutions of religious character as these display themselves on a large scale, and he will find a deficiency of the very kind referred to, so marked, and prevalent, and hopelessly obstinate, as to fill him with dismal forebodings. Nor will it be the least of his regrets to discover, that in cases not a few, this worst of moral diseases has the firmest hold of its victim, and is exerting its sullen and stu- pifying influence most successfully, where it is least to be expected. For not only is it true, that hearts which are susceptible of the warmest friendships, and endowed with the finest of natural sensibilities, are yet cold as the icy ocean to every thing feelingly Christian ; but too often does it happen, that these are the very hearts which are least of all accessible to any attempt to reclaim them. As if conscious that Christianity has a right to their affections, and power to take them captive, they are jealous of all its approaches, and will yield themselves up to any XX discussion but that which involves the spirit of its requirements. It is a very possible thing, that persons of this description may be suffering much uneasiness amidst the decencies of their nominal piety. They may be haunted by a strong suspicion, that a name to live is, after all, the amount of their attainment. They may even retain a habitual consciousness, which is occa- sionally fired into remorse, that in the sight of God they are deceivers ; and, prompted by this considera- tion, they may form purposes, and fix dates for a thorough renovation of their mental habits, while these formations and fixtures, having no root in the principle of reformation, but proceeding from the rest- lessness of mere pain, are dishonoured and forgotten as the excitement subsides. Such disquietudes, it is true, are the ordinary presages of reformation ; and the man who is under them is hopefully interest- ing, especially when their power and frequency are on the increase. But so long as the practice con- tinues the same — so long as the risings of conscience, instead of changing the current of feeling, or renew- ing the springs of action, are combated and borne down by the strength of opposing inclination — ^just so long are they to be regarded, not as the symptoms of incipient recovery, but as the convulsive indica- tions of increasing disease. They may accumulate the miseries of the man ; they may teach him by ex- perience, that he is putting " bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter ;" but they furnish him with nothing whatever, which can place him on a better footing for meeting the claims of Christian duty, or appearing before the Judge of all the earth. XXI The darkest symptom of the case, however, is that in which there is no disquietude, but a uniform and invincible contentedness, undisturbed by the slightest suspicion of any serious defalcation. The man has taken up his profession at the impulse of imitative feehng, or, it may be, from a good natural disposition to support the religion of his country. He admits the truth of revelation, not because it is true, but because his kindred believe it, and he is not prepared to say it is false. He has no stated controversy to plead with its doctrines, or gratuities, or institu- tions, because he never saw them in any other light than that of cold, and distant, and mystified abstrac- tions, whose agreement or disagreement with his ruling propensities he has never thought of ascertain- ing. In short, he holds himself a subject of Chris- tianity, associated with its friends, sharing in its pri- vileges, and possessing an undoubted claim to its coming felicities; although he could have said the same thing, and that too for the same reasons, of the visions of Mahomed, or the rites of Juggernaut, had he been born in Turkey or in Hindostan. In this view of the matter, dry, and frigid, and cheerless though it be, he maintains a deathHke acquiescence; and while, in the things of this life, he is subject to like passions with other men, partaking with them in the hopes, and fears, and joys, and sorrows of our common humanity, yet on this one point he exhibits a flat and monotonous expectation, which knows no vicissitude and dreads no repulse, but seems alike in- capable of elevation or depression. Or if there be some occasional variation, as in the most equable temperament there necessarily must, it is so slight xxu and evanescent, as never to show itself beyond the precincts of the inner man. There is no reasoning required to show, that this way of being a Christian, even in the most favour- able of its aspects, is a deep and perilous infatuation. Not only is there ground to fear that the heart which is thus situated is shut out from the grace of God, but the conviction that it is, is forced upon us with- out the possibihty of resistance. What is Chris- tianity? Is it not a system which undeniably can do nothing for man, without working its way into his affections, and making its own of his moral sensibili- ties ? Does not its Author found on it as a first principle, that before men can find in it that substan- tial satisfaction which it is fitted to impart, the foul affections which characterize him in his ungodliness must be mortified, and new affections, of a pure and celestial order, created in their stead ? Although it be unaccountably forgotten, it is nevertheless clear as the light of day, that the religion of the Bible is devised, and revealed, and pressed upon man, under the notion of a remedy ; and in calling upon him to embrace it, he is uniformly addressed as the victim of a moral disorder. But this disorder is in the heart : nor has it merely reached the heart in its pro- gressive invasion of the man, it has commenced there. The first blight of its deadly influence was felt at the hearts of the parents of men ; it is established in the affections of the heart, as the seat of its wasteful dominion ; and it is only in proportion as it is dis- lodged from the heart, that the symptoms of conva- lescence can make their appearance in the intellect, or the will, or the conduct of the man. XXUl But as Christianity is thus made for the heart of man, and fitted to purify its every emotion, so it is by the respondings of the heart to its compassionate appeals, that he commences or continues his participa- tion of its restoring efficacy. It is on this account, that the reception of its benefits is described in Scrip- ture, not as an exercise of cold intellection, but as the gratification of eager desire. " Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, you have no life in you." Unless your belief in the great Christian Sacrifice be to you a matter of positive fruition, you cannot but be dead ; because you are destitute of that instinctive relish for spiritual nour- ishment which indicates the existence of spiritual life. To expatiate here, however, would be endless. This high-toned religion is all over a religion of love. Whether we look at it in its origin, or its doctrines, or its spirit, or its discipline, or its progress, or its consummation, we see it to be pervaded, and illumined, and encompassed by the glory of divine munificence. If it were not a religion of love, it would be lost upon human nature ; for man, as the creature of God, is endowed with affections which, whether he will or not, and whether he be holy or unholy, are the medium of his happiness or misery. They are essential parts of his constitution, ordained to stimulate his powers of action, and, without them, his thoughts and his recollections, and, of course, his capacities of pain or pleasure, would languish in eternal torpor. But we may say, it is more than a religion of love ; at least, it is love modified and mixed up into an exact accord- ance with the present condition of man. This, indeed, is the character of every dispensation which comes I XXIV from God to his rational offspring. When he cre- ated our world, and wrapt it in respirable air, and gilded it with light and colour, and covered it with freshness and verdure, and overspread its teeming bosom with all the diversities of fruit and fragrance, andplaced it under the dominion of man, and exhibited the whole as a mirror for reflecting the wonders of his Godhead, he showed himself, by symbols the most expressive, to be the fountain of exuberant goodness ; adapting that goodness, in wisdom the most exquisite, to the situation of holy human intelligences. And to enjoy him, even in this state of things, it was in- dispensable that the innocent creature who drank from the rivers of his pleasures, should exercise the purest religious affections. But when he created Chris- tianity he did more than this. He formed the new dispensation to the new state of things. By a fresh development of wisdom, he carried his love beyond the precincts of innocence, and sent it forth on a great pacific embassy into the dark regions of depra- vity, proclaiming to the creatures of rebellion and wretchedness, who had lost the use of his material creation, and converted its stores into the resources of crime, "forgiveness with him that he may be venerated, and plenteous redemption that he may be sought unto." If these things are so, (and who that has but glanced on his Bible can set them aside ?) they teach us most forcibly, that to propose to be religious, without the exercise of the affections, is to meditate a wild excursion into the regions of impossibiUty, to attempt an impotent and daring infraction at once on the specific bearings of Christianity, and on the con- XXV stitution of the human mind. We may have to do with many trivial things, and we may give them their due in a state of comparative neutraHty of mind : but duty to God, and sin against him, are great things and righteous ; or wicked, pious, or impious we can- not be, without a strong excitement of human feehng. The reason is, that thought, and feehng, and con- duct, are inseparably conjoined in such minds as ours ; and where the heart is not given, the man is not given. Make of it then what we may, it re- mains a truth, that the religion which is from above was made for hearts — for human hearts — for human hearts depraved by sin, — it is kind, and gentle, and suasive, and social, that it may interest such hearts ; and so far as it is excluded from the heart, it can have no living subsistence among the children of men. A person may honour it with whatever else he pleases ; he may give his body to its ceremonies, or his mind to its disquisitions, or his money to its promulgation, or his influence to the enforcement of its social morali- ties ; but unless these givings be sustained and con- secrated by the higher and hoHer devotion of the heart, they are inanities in the sight of God. If it be asked, ' Why labour to make out a point which is self-evident, and which no man in his senses will venture to deny ?' the apology is, that although the point itself be evident, yet the moral principle involved in it is wofully obscured ; and we know of no fitter means competent to man, for restoring it to its place, as a stimulant of action, than a display of its force and solidity, or an honest disclosure of the consequences in which the man is involved who continues to disregard it. The only way in which B 20 XXVI a man can have access to the conscience of his fel- low-man, is by appealing to his understanding, from the principles of the Bible ; and although the moral of these principles be always a plain point, yet it furnishes material for that very species of discussion and persuasion which the Spirit of God employs for accomplishing his merciful purpose. Now, it is strange indeed that religion, with its collateral inter- ests, is almost the only thing within the whole range of voluntary avocation, from which many thousands of baptized men withhold the exercise of their affec- tions ; and if they found a man displaying the same apathy in his secular pursuits which they display in this department, they would be tempted to question the sanity of his mind. What, for instance, would be thought of the man who, while he had joined himself to the admirers of the drama, and continued to occupy a seat within the walls of the theatre with the utmost steadiness and regularity, had no relish whatever for dramatic representation? and, while others around him were gathering up delight from tlie burst of eloquence, or the flash of wit, or the play of humour, which the incidents of the piece, or the skill of the performers was successively sending forth upon them ; while, in short, they were wafted along by the current of the sentiment, and giving way to the alternations of joy or of terror, of tender- ness or of sensuahty, which the spirit of the amuse- ment was fitted to inspire, he was as completely isolated from the whole as if he had been bhnd, and deaf, and dumb. Such a person would unquestionably be marked as a strange anomaly in his department, and it might puzzle ingenuity to ascertain what could XXVll possibly induce him to be there at all. — The same thing might be said of the initiated sportsman. He is not addicted to the toils, or fearless of the hazards of the field, as a matter of mere ceremony. He gives his heart to it, as, to him at least, the medium of high delight. Every incident of the scene gives a new impulse to his soul, and catching the inspiration of the howhng quadrupeds which scour the plain before him, he shares in their brutal happiness, or suffers along with them in their disappointment. — So it is also with the miser, or the sensualist, or, to rise to names of another order, the man of taste and sci- ence, in letters and philosophy. It is counted on, as a matter of course, that each is actuated by the spirit of his pursuit, or formed into its likeness with more or less entireness, according to the place which it holds in the affections of his heart ; and where this inspiration fails, he is disowned by the brother- hood on which he is thus obtruded, as a hated ob- struction to the flow of their enjoyment. This is the way of the world; but why should it be other- wise in reference to Christianity ? Shall men pour out the whole fervour of their souls on science, or wealth, or vulgar amusement, while the things which involve eternity, with all its woes or felicities, are treated with callous neglect ? Men are accustomed to pervert themselves thus, and the evil is so com- mon, it has ceased to be wondered at ; but were thev to look at things as they really are, the enormity of their conduct, as an offence against reason, to carry the matter no higher, would fill them with alarm. It is no vindication of the apathy complained of to say, ' I cannot do otherwise. My friends, and B 2 XXVlll my habits, and my most intimate associations, are all in league with it, and present a barrier in the way of a change, which is altogether impassable/ Reasonings of this kind are not only unmanly, be- cause absurd ; but to give way to them, is to make choice of death rather than life, and of cursing rather than blessing, and to do so by a decision which is so much the more desperate, that it is cool and deliber- ate. Other men have been as deeply immured as you in the friendships, and habits, and associations of irreligion, and yet have either succeeded in trans- forming them into a purer and better commodity, or have cast them off as insufferable incumbrances to all rational and dignified activity. Where, then, is the proof, that there is a mysterious peculiarity at- taching itself to your destiny, and binding you down, as in chains of adamant, to a course of conduct which you know^ to be unreasonable, and feel to be ruin- ous? The bondage of which you speak is moral, not physical, not created by your Maker, but con- tracted by yourself; not forced upon you by the pressure of circumstances, but wrapped around you by your own hands. Its real name is disinclination, not disability. You are just as you wish to be, es- tranged from religious affections ; because, all things considered, you judge it best to be so. Come fairly to the point and you cannot but see it, that the same portion of mental energy which you daily put forth in offending the God who made you, and resisting the spirit of his service, is quite sufficient for the exercise of loving him. The power to dishonour the God of heaven throughout the whole created uni- verse, is co-extensive with the power to adore him ; XXIX and wherever we see a creature who is able to be impious, there we see one who could be pious were he so incHned. Still it is true, that you cannot do otherwise : the only reason of the truth, however, is, that you will not do otherwise ; and this brings the whole responsibility in fearful accumulation on your own head. But if the decision to continue as you are, be at war with your better judgment — if, in despite of its preponderance, you feel conscious of a struggling wish that your heart were emancipated ; then this very wish, cold, and languid, and overborne though it be, is the element out of which there may come forth a renovated order of thought and voli- tion. But guard it with incessant vigilance, carry it to the great Author of Christianity, that he may transform, and invigorate, and warm it into desire by the Spirit of his grace ; for you will find with him an influence rich, and free, and most gratuitous, possessing an efficacy which is more than sufficient to charm your bondage all away : " To-day, if you will hear his voice, harden not your hearts." Nor is it a better vindication to say, ' My Chris- tianity is just like that of others around me, who think, and feel, and act as I do; and if I am in arrears to the claims of duty, I am but on a footing with multitudes who are awaiting the final decision in the very same predicament.' This may be true, for " wide is the gate, and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be who go in thereat;'* but the native inference from it is, that your situation is so much the more perilous. The question is. Are these persons right, or are they wrong ? Is their prac- tice supported by sound, and enlightened, and well- XXX defined religious principles? or is it the spurious offspring of depravity and delusion, like your own ? If the former, your reference to them is pertinent, and you are warranted to feel confirmed by the suf!i*age of their example ; but if the latter, it is preposterous, and ministers nothing to you but an amplified illustration of your danger and infatuation. He who is under a bodily malady does not fear it the less for being told it is epidemic, and preying even unto death on the whole neighbourhood in which he resides. So far is he from this, that his knowledge of these things, conjoined with his own experience of its vii'ulence, invests it with an additional horror in the eye of his imagination, and gives a tenfold in- tensity to his desire for relief. The application is obvious, and the conclusion is irresistible, that the man who in this way pleads precedent, to palliate his irreligion, is wilfully disguising the whole subject, and is held fast in the enchantment which lures to destruction. Nor yet is it a vindication to plead disgust at the imprudences which may accompany religious affec- tions among those who are most distinguished by them. It is a very possible thing, that imprudences alleged in this way are greatly magnified, if not cre- ated, by the cherished dislike of the man whom they offend ; and of course, that sounder views of the sub- ject, and a healthier course of conduct, would displace them from their present prominence as occasions of offence. But admitting their existence to an extent which is highly blameable, the point to be ascertained is. In what do they originate? Are they inse- parably connected with religious affections, or do XXXI they proceed from incapacity, or bad training, on the part of the persons in whom they appear ? To charge them on Christianity is to speak the language of in- fideHty, and to disregard the evidence of facts', which have shown, in instances unnumbered, that the minds which are most habitually under its influence are tlie most thoroughly rational. But if in candour they are to be ascribed, not to the system but to the man who misguides it, then why connect them with Chris- tianity at all? or why regard its holy exercises as either the better or the worse for the prevalence of such things? Men do not depreciate what is in- trinsically excellent, because it is often abused; and if they did, they would soon cease to find excellence beneath the sun. Nor can they involve it in any way with the folhes, or even crimes, of which the imbecility or perversity of others may make it the occasion, without committing a flagrant outrage on the standing laws of human thought. A professor of religion may be something of a visionary, who frequently provokes the derision even of the well- disposed ; or he may be a brain-sick enthusiast, soar- ing in the altitudes of imagined felicity, or shivering under the horrors of ideal despair. The theme of his rhapsody, in the one case, may be the munificence of the Bible ; or in the other, the wrath which it re- veals from heaven against all ungodliness of men : but to confound these things with rational piety, is to err as widely on the one extreme as he does on the other. It is matter of ingenuous regret, that so much as an occasion of offence should originate in this quarter, although, in the present state of human nature, it is always to be expected ; and as the spirit xxxu of Christianity arises to its native fervour, we are likely to see more of it ; for were the impulse which it gives to the affections more deeply and generally felt, the instances of constitutional defect, among the subjects of its operation, would of course be multi- plied. But it is still more deeply to be regretted, that the principles of candour and sound discrimina- tion should be so far departed from, as to foster the growth of irreligion, by blending such excrescences with the genuine fruits of vital godliness. If we look, however, at the miserable material with which such a pretext is usually got up, the circumstances in which it is resorted to, and the affected levity or wrathful obstinacy with which it is retained, there is reason to suspect, that the objector himself is aware of its futility, and that, after all, it is not so much his head as his heart which is in fault. The imprudences chargeable on religious affec- tions, in a few of their diversified lines of operation, were to be noticed in the second part of this Essay ; but the space already occupied restricts us to a mere outline of what was at first intended. It is very conceivable that a heart may be really Christian, while the motions of spiritual life are so languid as to approximate very nearly to entire destitution ; and, in this case, the person may find a caveat in what is stated above. But it cannot be denied, that even where these motions would seem to be vigorous, there is frequently error on the other extreme. In almost every age, and in ours among the rest, a species of affection has broke in upon the sanctities of religion, which, did it really belong to the subject, would tend XXXIU infallibly to involve it in suspicion — an affection which shows itself in all the fervour, and claims for itself all the sacredness of zeal for the Lord of Hosts ; which is bustling and impetuous in its spirit, dis- gustingly ostentatious in the display of its activities, and reckless of all dehcacy, in assaulting every thing which is in any way obstructive of its fiery career. A zealot of this kind usually takes his cast from the spirit of the age in which he lives, or the religious party to which he belongs, and carries to a mischie- vous excess what is either in itself good, or would be comparatively harmless, if tempered with modera- tion. In one man, this spirit may be set on fire by a favourite nostrum, struck out, as he supposes, from the word of God, or borrowed, it may be, from some master-spirit which he has chosen to give law to his understanding. In this nostrum, however chilcUsh or fanciful, he is absorbed. It is to him the central point of all religious thought or feeling. For its sake every thing else is forgotten, or only noticed to be strained into a subserviency to it ; and in the glow of his enthusiasm, he employs it as a test by which to estimate the understandings, and try the hearts, if not to settle the future destinies, of all to whom he has access. In another man, it assumes a sectarian aspect, magnifying the excellencies, and palliating the defects, either of the church or the chapel, in some one or other of their modifications, beyond all reasonable bounds. In another, it raises the outcry of error and immorality, surrounding itself with images of apostacy, so hideous and portentous, as to lead the unwary to suppose, that the expiring re- mains of Christian piety, with all that is righteous b3 XXXIV and holy, are just about to depart from the earth, while the points on which he fixes as evidence of this, may be the most equivocal, or least alarming of all the signs of the times. In another, it sounds the trumpet of liberality, proclaiming an era of jubilant felicity, if men would but forget to investigate, and learn to acquiesce ; and fretting itself beyond all en- durance, at the bigotry of those recusants, who are not prepared to decry all distinctions, and hide them out of view, in the placid ocean of universal good-wilL Similar to this in point of injurious effect, although widely different in complexion, is that sickly frame of spirit, which is all sensibility, either painful or pleasurable, andean appreciate nothing in Christianity, however important or seasonable, unless it minister in one shape or other to the fitful and frivolous mus- ings of a religious sentimentahsm. The mind which is afflicted with this disorder has usually a few topics, every one of which is imbued with feeling, although, perhaps, but remotely connected with what is solid or edifying ; and to these topics it is wedded by some- thing like the tenacity of a maniac to his reverie, while so great is its predilection for its own isolated habits, that it shrinks from every thing which seems to oppose them, and can scarcely be conversed with by any other mind which is not of precisely its own contexture. The tendency of such freakishness is to narrow religion into a circle of retired and mopping tenderness : and, instead of being actuated by that charity which is extensively operative, because en- lightened, and liberal, and well-established, it invests itself with a mantle of jealousy, through the foldings of which it looks shy upon every thing which does XXXV not accord with its preconceptions. Now, there is no Christianity in either the one or the other of these aberrations ; nor can her aspect be seen through so troubled a medium, except in a state of the most un-* seemly distortion. She may have a place in a mind of this description, for her graces will exist where they are but scantily nourished, and very defectively displayed, but for the development of their true ex- cellence— for the efficient exhibition of their attrac- tive and assimilating influence, there must be a strength of principle and an enlargement of thought, and a chastened disposition to coalesce or accommodate, from which such a spirit is grievously estranged. The spirit of Christianity, it ought to be considered, is associating as well as distinctive. It redeems the soul from Httleness, as well as separates it from this world. It takes effect upon the human mind in all the possible diversity of its constitutional peculiarities, from the softest and most retiring, to the hardiest and most heroic ; and acting on this diversity without destroying it, it brings its subjects together, and fits up an instrument of complex mechanism, and exqui- site power, for sounding the praises of the Most High. The charm of this moral melody, however, like that of all other melody, is harmony, not unison. It arises not from the exact sameness of texture and tension, in every particular cord of the instrument, but from that nice adaptation of the one to the other, by which the full and free vibration of each, after its own manner, is made to contribute its part to heighten the general effect. But, in opposition to this, the tendency of mind on which we are remarking is a dull and deadening unison, which can give forth no I XXXVl melody, because it admits of no diversity — a state of things which is incompatible both with the spirit of Christianity, and with that wonderful power of ac- commodation which God has given to the human mind; while it cannot fail to make the new creature, if a new creature he be, a peevish and sickly nursling, when he oug-ht to have been healthful and athletic. The liberalizhig of religious affections, no doubt, has its limits, beyond which it is sinful, and may be very pernicious ; but these limits are fixed by the same authority which demands it, and the wisdom to find them out is imparted by the same grace which inspires it. To the obvious dereliction of principle, or piety, or pure scriptural morality, the Christian is to give no tolerance; and with these things his religion re- quires from him no forbearance. But even in these cases, he is to be actuated not by the obstinacy of a bigot, or the caprice of a recluse, but by a firmness which is intelligent, and considerate, and thoroughly Christianized. It is most frequently, perhaps, although not ex- clusively, among the second of these two classes of professors, that we hear of those sudden and vivid suggestions from the word of God, which, in the musings of their retirement, have impressed their minds, assuring them of their interest in his favour, or affording them instant relief in cases of peculiar mental affliction. Matters of this kind, we are aware, ouffht to be touched with a s-entle hand. The in- to o stances are not few in which it is hard to distin- guish between reality and illusion ; and remembering who hath said, " the wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell XXXVll whence it cometh, and whither it goeth ; so is every one that is born of the Spirit,'* — remembering, also, that those impressions which issue in conversion, or revive the soul of a drooping Christian, are most fre- quently made, especially upon minds which are weak and ignorant, not by a process of deductive thought, but in the very " words which the Holy Ghost teacheth," while the circumstances in which they operate to gracious ends, may be very extraordinary, it becomes us to speak with the greatest caution. But without any disparagement of these solemn con- siderations, nay, for the sake of defending them from the abuse and obloquy to which they are too often exposed, we are warranted in affirming, that when a passage of Scripture is obviously perverted, in order to render it applicable ; or, w^hen the mood of mind in which it occurs is trifling or frivolous ; or, when the purpose to which it is applied is unwarrantable, or ought to be prosecuted by other means ; or, when the soul nestles in it as in a place of shelter, without being impelled to Christian industry ; or, when the delight which it inspires is felt to be compatible with the love of sin, or yields a positive inducement to the continuance of its pleasure ; or, when it is secretly exulted in as a rare, if not a miraculous token of the divine regard, although there be nothing singular in the circumstances of the individual, and thus minis- ters to pride and presumption, — when such things as these are the concomitants or results of sudden sug- gestions from the word of God, they are not to be associated with the work of the Spirit in the soul of man. The man, it is true, whose religious enjoyment XXXVIU is both genuine in kind, and exalted in degree, may very speedily relapse into sin, yea, into aggravated sin, which brings sorrow upon himself, and scandal upon his sacred profession ; but although this may come after such enjoyment, it can never come out of it ; for the gifts of God in Jesus Christ are moral attractions, not repellencies. Their native tendency is to draw the soul upwards to a higher elevation on the scale of holiness, and those impressions which have not this tendency, however vivid, or felicitous, or striking in the mode of their production, although they have come from the words of Scripture, fairly quoted, and correctly interpreted, are, after all, to be disregarded. Much more are they to be disregarded, when they proceed from a manifest abuse of Scrip- ture ; for it would be impious to suppose, that when the Spirit of God speaks to man through the medium of revelation, he can do so in any other way than by using his own words, in his own meaning. He can- not pervert the oracle which he has dictated, nor can a perversion of it on the part of man, however plausible or well-intentioned, be sanctioned by his influence. In the ordinary course of his gracious operation, he makes a progressive use of the gospel of his grace, and in dealing with man by means of it, he treats him as a reasonable being, causing him to feel the power of the truth, not by entrancing him in visions and ecstacies, but by bringing him to the sober and regulated use of his understanding and his heart. Nor has any man, whatever be his stand- ing in the church, or in the estimate of the Chris- tian brotherhood, a right to suppose, that the secret of a happy destiny is revealed to him, except in so XXXIX far as the moral elements of such a destiny in holiness, and righteousness, and love, are realized within him. We are far from insinuating, that those floods of joy which are sometimes poured upon the hearts of the godly, and fill them with a momentary rapture, are altogether imaginary, or furnish no evidence that the man whom they visit is born of the Spirit. To speak thus would be to offend, and most justly to offend, the generation of the faithful, as well as to utter impiety against the God of heaven ; for in these visitations, rare and intermitting though they be, we see the most signal foretastes of celestial felicity, which can possibly be arrived at beneath the sun. In themselves, however, they are no evidence. Apart from the principle of abiding piety, and steadily pro- gressive holiness, of which, when genuine, they are at once the produce and the index, the man who pretends to them is greatly to be suspected ; and yet it too often happens, that a fondness to talk about rehgious ecstacies, or an eagerness to cherish the memory of them, or a restless impatience of their absence, or a proneness to convert them into tests of character, takes hold of the mind of many a professor, and occupies his daily thoughts at the expense of turning him away from those immediate exercises which lead, circuitously it may be, but securely, to the enjoyment of solid dehght, in all its purity and permanence. It ought not to be forgotten, that the Christian must come near to his God, not by a tran- sient impulse of feeling, but by the regular growth of his renovated character, in order to detain upon his spirit the tranquillity, or to fill it with the satis- faction which his religion is fitted to impart ; and to xl seek to procure these in any other way, is to pass from the region of sober thought into that of gross enthusiasm, and thus to involve the whole exercsie in confusion and perplexity. There may be seasons of uncommon enjojrment, especially with the youthful and zealous, where the process of sanctification is but in its commencement ; and when these are granted, let them be cherished with all humility and gratitude ; but let them never be looked upon as the only sure signs of true religion, nor ever put in the place of the clearer and steadier indications of what a man really is in the sight of God. On a review of these remarks, it seems necessary to say, that they are by no means intended to inter- fere with the diversities o£ constitutional tem-perament, which distinguish men from each other. The man who is cool in his natural temperament, will also be cool in his Christianity ; and the man who is distin- guished for sensibility, or sprightliness, or ardour, will usually exhibit these elements of character in a Christianized form, during all the stages of his pre- paration for heaven. Indeed, he must do so; for Christianity, so far as we know, is not commissioned to produce any change upon the sensibilities of our nature, beyond what is necessary to counteract the effects of sin. Nor is it desirable that the case should be otherwise ; for were the diversities referred to en- tirely abolished, the many utilities of which they are every day productive, behooved to disappear along with them. There is an obvious charm in such diver- sities ; and the wish to see them abolished, may con- template more than is likely to be arrived at, even in a state of perfection ; for there seems no extrava- xli gance in supposing, that those constitutional pecu- Harities, whether of intellect or affection, which are now so much vitiated and overdriven in the servitude of sin, may yet contribute very powerfully to enrich and enHven the fellowship of the saints, and to ac- centuate the song of their combined adoration, after sin is put away, and the redemption of the whole man carried up to its consummation. But, allowing to them, in the present state, all reasonable latitude, it must still be contended, that as every man has affections, the exercise of which he owes to God in the solemnities of religion; and as these affections, whatever be their diversity, are so much himself, that the withholding of them is equivalent to the withholdinop of himself from God : so the sin of thus withholding them, or of perversity in the manage- ment of them, either by shortcoming or excess, is not palliated by this concession, but still rests upon his head. The great matter for consideration is, that to have no heart at all for religion, or to have a heart which involves its sacred principles in the wild- est or silliest absurdity, is not a thing to which any man is bound down by the law of his creation, but a thing to which he has bound himself down by " the law of sin and death which is in his members ;" and for the existence of it, therefore, as a delinquency chargeable on him, no created ingenuity can furnish a pleadable apology. A portraiture of the Works of President Ed- wards, is happily not called for on the present occa- sion, and ought never to be attempted by ordinary minds. Their place is assigned to them by the con- xlii current suffrage of all competent judges ; and to say, that in power of metaphysical thinking, scarcely less accurate than it is profound ; digested into prac- tical uses, with amazing perspicuity ; overawed by a high veneration for the authority of revealed truth ; adorned by a candour in controversy, the most dig- nified and manly; and imbued with a piety which, for vigour, elevation, and fervour, befitted the mind from which they came ; — to say, that in these things they are equalled by few, and excelled by none, is not to give a decision, but feebly to reiterate the sentence which has abeady been often pronounced, and to which the pious and penetrating in subse- quent ages, as they rise into eminence in the science of theology, are successively appending their confir- mation. The fact, that this Treatise was written by Ed- wards, is sufficient to commend it to those who are acquainted with his philosophical acumen, as dis- played in his other works ; and if the subject do not offend them, they are likely to grant it an eager peru- sal. It is the subject itself, however, as dissected by the hand of this great moral anatomist, on which the interest of the reader should be chiefly concen- trated : and if the things already glanced at, be in- deed operating very perniciously each in its own way ; nay, if the whole combined, taken in connection with similar deformities, which could easily be specified, makes out a very serious charge against the present generation of Christian professors, we do not know of another treatise within the whole range of prac- tical theology, which is better fitted to do it away than the one before us. Some of the evils hinted xliii at are directly encountered in the course of its pages ; and with respect to others, which are not so formally- brought into view, there are principles discussed with peculiar clearness and force of conviction, which are well calculated to destroy their influence, and put an end to their flimsiness and folly. The work, in fact, may he regarded as disclosing what we may call the philosophy of religious affections ; demonstrating the reality of Christian experience from the principles of the Bible, combined with established facts in the history of man ; vindicating its phenomena from the charge of enthusiasm, and showing their most entire accordance with the soundest dictates of moral sci- ence : thus teaching the Christian to think with vigour and accuracy, and inspiring him with the ani- mating consciousness, in despite of the quibbles of infidelity, that in yielding up his heart to the sorrows and joys, the solicitudes and solacements of a reli- gious life, he is but complying with the responsibilities of his nature, as placed under a dispensation of the grace of God. This is achieved in a style so mas- terly, that had the volume no other use, it might be regarded, on this ground alone, as of the highest importance ; for the practice of exhibiting the philo- sophy of our nature, and the culture of revealed religion, as so much at variance, that the man who embraces the one is bound in consistency to abandon the other, has done incalculable injury, both to revela- tion itself, as a system of saving belief, and to a most interesting class of jealous inquirers, to whom it is offered for salvation. It is painful to think, that a practice so irrational has been too often countenanced by the friends of religion, as well as exemplified by xliv its foes. But of all men on earth, the Christian is the last who ought to look shy on the philosophy of morals ; for in proportion as its genuine dictates are sought out, and defined, and multiplied, will they be found, not merely to tally with Christianity, but powerfully to support its essential principles, to the overthrow of infidelity, whether practical or specula- tive, and the estabhshment of " the kingdom of hea- ven" on the ruins of its hollow pretences. This department of science, no doubt, has been wofully mis- managed, and thus made to war against Christianity, although its just and natural ally ; but for that very reason, instead of being disowned, it ought to be clierished and rescued : for men are born to be moral philosophers ; we find that they are so in all ranks or conditions of society, whether barbarous or civi- lized, and if they are not taught to consecrate the subject to the interests of true religion, they will in- fallibly abuse it. A more immediate tendency of this volume, is not merely to establish the Christian in the doctrines of his belief, but to teach him the sacred art of digest- ing doctrine into the nourishment of piety. With great force of practical argument, and instructive variety of illustration, docs the Author call upon his reader to watch over the state of his heart, to scru- tinize his religious attainments, to guard against de- ception in so momentous a concern, and to preserve the characteristics of decided scriptural piety habi- tually before his mind. These are things which give to the volume a standing importance at all times, and in all circumstances; but there are considera- tions, which render the re-appearance of it in our xlv times peculiarly seasonable. Whatever may be said of our liberality, or bustling public spirit, or whatever be the amount of sound and vital principle which is giving stimulus to our zeal, it cannot be concealed, that to a great extent we are a careless generation, engrossed with externals, and but little accustomed to look into our hearts. In the very aspect which the Christian world has now assumed, there is some- thing to be dreaded, as well as something to be ex- tolled. We are laudably active in doing good, on the arena of public benevolence; but just because we are so, is there danger of mistaking the pleasures of social effort for the em^otions of Christian love ; and to such a state of things there is something, nay, there is very much, in this searching performance, which is fitted to be a seasonable antidote. The man who is constrained to be much in society, and has but little leisure for talking with his heart, will find it an excellent preservative from the snares of his situation. Besides, there are symptoms that religion is reviving among the children of our people. " The day-spring from on high" is visiting us afresh, in several places of the land. If these appearances increase, as we trust in God they will, we may reckon on it, that now, as formerly, they w^ill be mingled in theii' progress with errors and excesses, which disturb the operation of gracious principle, and prove a cause of sorrow to every ingenuous Christian heart. But this very Treatise was written at a season of crreat religious excitement, which was accompanied with many excesses in the Author's native country. It was the production of such a season on the scene of his pastoral labours in a far distant region, — it was xl VI blessed there, at that time, as the means of extensive usefulness, — and to a similar state of things among us, should it come forth, it will be found to be equally applicable. No Christian on earth, however, be his talents or piety what they may, is always exempted from mistakes : and although the penetration and accu- racy, which so strikingly characterized the mind of Edwards, render it generally unsafe to controvert his statements, while the fact that he is no longer with us to vindicate himself, demands for his writings a charitable construction; yet there is one of his positions in the work before us, which cannot remain unnoticed, without leaving a stumbling-block in the way of many a sincere inquirer. — His second pro- position under the third division of the work, is stated as follows : " The first objective ground of gracious affections, is the transcendently excellent and amiable nature of divine things, as they are in themselves, and not any conceived relation which they bear to self or self-interest." The same sentiment, in sub- stance, is brought into view in the third proposition of the same series. Now it is not denied, that reli- gious affections do arise sooner or later from the things here stated; although we cannot help doubt- ing, whether the first emotions of genuine piety in the heart of any incipient convert, were ever such as are thus described. But the question is, whether the intrinsic excellence of divine things be the only ground of such emotions — or, whether every move- ment of affection which is truly gracious, terminate on " the intrinsic excellence of divine things ;" while the person's own interest, or the feeling of gratitude xlvii produced by a reception of the divine favour, has only " a secondary and consecutive influence," that is, such an influence, that it would not be gracious at all, but for the fact that it is preceded by a disinter- ested love of these thincrs ? o Now, we hesitate very much about the propriety of giving to such a question an affirmative reply. We have heard, indeed, of persons who wished to see the happiness of heaven annihilated, and the flames of hell extinguished, that they might love God for his own sake ; but we regard such language as the raving of religious frenzy, and are much in- clined to think, that Edwards himself would have looked upon it in much the same light. In the very formation of such a wish, there is an irreverent im- peachment of the existing state of things, as not so favourable to piety as it might have been ; but the truth is, the person who forms it knows not what he is doing, and ought to be soothed into sobriety by persuasion, rather than reasoned with on general prin- ciples. Our Author's leading argument for the ex- clusion of self-love from gracious exercises, or at least for confining it in all cases to a secondary place, is, that it is a " natural principle." But this appears to us to be inconclusive. We are to distino-uish be- tween self-love and selfishness. The former is not a natural principle, if by natural we mean sinful ; for it is as true, that man was created to love himself, and is led to do so by the tendencies of his nature, as that he was created to love his Maker, and is bound to do so by the responsibilities of his nature. Besides, the capacity of loving for its own sake what is in itself excellent, is as really — although, perhaps, not xlviii so conspicuously — natural to man, as that of loving himself, or seeking his comfort or happiness : and if the fact, that the one is natural, be sufficient to divest it of a directly religious character, the same mode of reasoning will place the other in the very same pre- dicament. What, indeed, are all the affections or all the mental powers of the most gracious man on earth, but natural principles, sanctified, and harmo- nized, and restored to their appropriate uses by the Spirit of God ? So that, if the affections which are natural to man as a creature, are on this account to be set aside from those exercises which are truly pious, then he cannot be pious at all ; or, at least, the piety which attaches to him by the grace of God, cannot be human, but something foreign to his nature, or entirely distinct from it, which is manifestly absurd. This, however, is not maintained by our Author, although his reasoning, we fear, implies it. He admits, that the love of one's self, or a desire to possess the benefits of salvation, or gratitude for the enjoyment of these benefits, may be devotional in a collateral way, although that love to God which is detached from self, or disinterested, is so exclusively the essence of genuine piety, that, without its pre- existence in the soul, these other affections cannot be characterized as truly religious. Now it is here that we hesitate, and we cannot help suspecting, that if the argument hinted at be inconclusive, the position itself is untenable. It seems impossible, at least for any practical purpose, to clear out the distinction be- tween what God is in himself, and what he is to us for salvation, so as to make it tangible to ordinary minds ; and, under Christianity, we have no view of xlix him, except that one in which his essential moral excellence is — not simply disclosed as a matter of generous contemplation on our part, but — powerfully set forth under the specific form of goodness to be communicated. But the first feelings of the man whose soul is brought to a reception of this goodness, are naturally, that is, constitutionally, feelings of gra- titude ; and it is by the exercise of this gratitude as a seasonable and immediate duty, that his soul is pre- pared for devoutly contemplating the grandeur of the character from which it came. Nor can gratitude, originated in this way, although inseparably con- nected with the man's own interest, be discarded as spurious, for it proceeds from an act of rehgious com- pHance with the will of God. If there be a vitiating element in the exercise, it must have its seat not in the gratitude, although it may have descended upon it, but in the supposition that the goodness proffered has been received when it has not. A real reception of saving benefits, must produce a feeling of obliga- tion by the very laws of human nature, and that feel- ing of obligation must, on its own account, be religious, because it springs from religious principle, and is a deed of commanded homage to the object of Chris- tian worship. That this exercise can be prosecuted without any reference at all to what is intrinsic in the object of worship, is by no means insinuated, for it is but the work of an instant with the human mind to infer, that he who communicates excellence is himself excellent ; and it is perhaps impossible for a Christian *'to exult in the one view of the subject without a feeling of simultaneous admiration produced by the other. This, however, is perfectly consistent with C 20 I maintaining that the man who is conscious of either, may safely conclude, that he is adoring the God of salvation. Had the statement in question been limited by our Author to the saints in heaven, or to some of the most distinguished in the church on earth, there might have been little occasion for remarking on it, for it is every way likely that in the state of perfec- tion, or, in some instances of high maturity among Christians in this world, the love of God is exem- plified to a great extent, as he describes it. For the sake of those, however, who though on the way to heaven's perfection, may feel themselves far in the rear, it seems necessary to concede, that this is not a primary but an ulterior attainment. It is the re- sult not simply of a transition from a state of condem- nation into one of pardon and friendship with God, but of a process of restoration, either more brief or more protracted, in which the person has been carried forward to a high degree of spirituality; and probably, the feeling of it is lost, or, in some measure, inter- fered with, on every relapse into sinful indulgence. To understand the mystery of religious exercise, we must keep it closely in view, that Christianity is not a dispensation of bounty to the innocent, but a remedy for an existing evil ; and while the action of its remedial efficacy terminates in the production of a piety, the purest and most sublime, yet it commences its operations, and continues to carry them on, by stimulating the principle of self-preservation. The man approaches the subject at first, under the convic- tion that he is guilty, and ready to perish ; and the first movement of kindly affection within him is not to the delighted contemplation of what God is in himself, for to this as yet he is utterly incompetent, but to the mercy of God in Jesus Christ embraced as a benefit, exactly suited to his case, and freely set before him in the word of the truth of the Gospel. This is a movement in which self-love has not a secondary and consecutive, hut a primary and con- trolling influence; for the man " behoves " inten- tionally and on set purpose, " to the saving of his soul." It is impossible for him to do otherwise in the circumstances of the case. He cannot look with dehght on the intrinsic excellence of the God that made him, while he sees it hid in the images of wrath. He cannot adore that excellence, till he feel himself in alliance with it. He cannot so much as behold it with the eye of unbiassed intelligence, till " the light of the knowledge of its glory, in the face of Jesus Christ, hath shined in his heart." The gift of God is the very thing which prepares him for extoUing the giver. From a contemplation which is altogether disinterested, he is restrained not more by the disorder which sin has entailed upon his spi- rit, than by the original constituents of his own hu- manity ; for the principle of love to himself is so thoroughly interwoven with his frame, that the exer- cise of it ought to combine itself with every act of duty, whether to God or man. The question, how- ever, is, whether the exercise of it, as thus described, be in itself a rehgious exercise : and we conceive it must be so, for this one reason, that it involves a solemn acquiescence in what God has done for sinful men, which is the very soul of rehgion, at least in its Christian form. A disregard of one's best in- c2 lii terests is impiety, even in a general view, because it is a doing of injury to the Creator's handiwork, which every man is bound to venerate in himself as well as in others. The precept, " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself," is evidently founded on the assumption that man is bound to love himself, and to carry this affection along with him through the whole circle of relative duty. The chief end of his creation, it is true, is to glorify God ; but for that very reason is he bound by an obligation the most sacred, in the first instance to take care of himself, to consult his moral well-being, and to seek relief from his moral malady, that this sublime purpose may be accom- plished in his person. By no one act, however, can he do this effectually, without believing on the Son of God for salvation ; but by consulting his interest in this vvay, he is glorifying him as really and as di- rectly, as by contemplating his intrinsic excellence. He is thus yielding homage to the Most High, as a God of faithfulness, or doing him- honour in that great point on which he has concentrated his moral attributes, and pledged them all to man in revelation ; but if so, then is he obeying the impulses of an en- lightened self-love, and giving scope to affections which are truly religious, by one and the same exer- cise of mind. With this conclusion, the inspired history of primitive conversions, and consequent re- ligious exercises, is in perfect accordance ; * and in passages almost innumerable, the principle of self- * As a specimen, the reader may consult Acts ii. 37—41. and xvi. 26—34.. liii love is singled out, and appealed to by motives of terror the most arousing, and of kindness the most persuasive. All this is done by him who cannot err, for the express purpose of kindling up in the heart of man the holy flame of adoration ; and surely it must be hazardous to say, that those emotions which rise up and respond to such appeals in their true spirit, and in accordance with the precise form in which they are exhibited, are yet destitute of pious ingredients. There are, confessedly, great diversi- ties among the children of grace, as well as among the children of nature ; and that test which is appli- cable to all, must often be too general to be of ser- 'vice to individuals : but while the man whose piety is greatly disinterested, may warrantably feast his soul with the livehest hopes, the less favoured man, who seldom rises higher than an humble and tremulous thankfulness for " God's unspeakable gift," is not, on this account, to sink into despondency. It ought to have been mentioned previously to these remarks, that some things in our Author's il- lustration, in the eleventh chapter of Part II. of this Treatise, are rather obscurely stated, and capable, as they stand, of a hurtful interpretation.* But, from the particular topic which he is there illustrating, and the connection of the passage with what follows, it is evident that he is combating the error of those who maintain, that although a Christian has no present discernment of spii-itual things, but is in a dark and * The passage chiefly referred to, is in the 197th page, begin- ning with the phrase, " And heie I cannot but observe." Foi a masterly dissection of this topic, the reader is referred to tiie Author's two Letters to Mr. Gillespie, appended to this edition. liv secular frame of mind, he ought not to distrust the goodness of his state, but still to cherish the belief that he is accepted of God. He is not asserting that the man who is in darkness ought not to believe the divine testimony, but that he ought not, by a blind and unreasonable confidence, to boast himself a Christian, in the absence of all legitimate evidence, that, in short, his views must be altered, and the frame of his mind improved ; or, in other words, he must come out of the " darkness" of sinful indiffer- ence, " into the light" of gracious exercise, before he can believe himself to be a child of God. These strictures are deemed necessary, in justice to the Christian public to whom the volume is offered anew for instruction in righteousness : and although the intelligent reader shoukl approve of their import, as intended to minister a necessary caution, he will very easily perceive that they detract scarcely any thing from its general excellence. The inaccuracies hinted at, although apt to be wounding to pious in- dividuals, yet dwindle into a speck before the solid, and salutary, and lucid discussion with which the work is so richly fraught. They are the slips of a mind whose piety was as uncommon as were its powers of subtile research ; and it is not to be wondered at, although somewhat to be rem-etted, that the hiffh test by which it tried itself, (and might find to be useful, as the entire Treatise certainly was, in no small degree, for neutralizing the excesses of its times,) should be given to the public at large. One thing more, against which the reader ought to be guarded, is a relaxed and cursory perusal of the volume ; and, considering the present tendency of the public mind Iv to what is smooth, and tasteful, and superficial in religious reading, as well as in almost every thing else, there is but too much reason for apprehension here. It is a pitiful thing to see the religious com- munity arrested among the elements of their faith, or amused with mere conceits, instead of being trained to that patience of thought, and comprehensiveness of view, which are so essential to the dignity of the man, and the well-being of the Christian. It is for this cause that so many are weak and sickly among us, and so many asleep. Edwards thought vigorously, and, by the grace of God, he thought to purpose : and to his reader here, as in all his works, it may be said with emphatic truth, you cannot follow him to advantage in the interesting region through which he conducts you — you cannot make your own of the varied moral portraitures which he brings into view — you cannot inhale the spirit of the man, nor see what he saw, nor feel what he felt, unless you surrender to his pages the sharpened power of your intellect, and the wakeful solicitudes of your heart. This is the true state of the case, and to disguise it is to do you injury. But if you make this surrender, which is indeed a reasonable request, — if you make it in the humility of a Christian, and imbue it with the incense of a devout and suppliant spirit, you will find the Treatise a powerful auxiliary to that great sys- tem of means by which the "man of God" is made " perfect," being " thoroughly furnished unto all good works." ^ D.Y. Perth, April, 1825. CONTENTS. PART I. Page Concerning the nature of the Affections, and their importance in religion, 73 CHAP. I. The affections are nothing else than the more vigorous and sensible exercises of the incHnation and will of the soul, 78 CHAP. II. True religion, in a great measure, consists in the affections, 82 CHAP. III. Inferences deduced from this proposition, . 112 PART IL What are no certain signs that Religious Affections ARE TRULY GRACIOUS, OR THAT THEY ARE NOT, . . . .123 CHAP. I. It is no sign one way or the other, that religious affections are very great, or raised very high, . . . . 12i CHAP. II. It is no sign that affections have the nature of true religion, or that they have not, that they have great eifects on the body, 130 CHAP. III. It is no sign that affections are truly gracious, or that they are not, that they cause those who have them to be fluent, fervent, and abundant, in talking of the things of religion, 136 c3 Iviii CONTENTS. Page CHAP. IV. It is no sign that affections are gracious, or that they are otherwise, that persons did not excite them of their own contrivance, 140 CHAP. V. It is no sign that religious affections are truly holy and spiritual, or that they are not, that they come with texts of Scripture, remarkably brought to the mind, 147 CHAP. VI. It is no evidence that religious affections are saving, or that they are otherwise, that there is an appear- ance of love in them, 15*2 CHAP. VII. Persons having religious affections of many kinds, is not sufficient to determine whether they have any gracious affections or not, 155 CHAP. VIII. Nothing can certainly be determined con- cerning the nature of the affections by this, that comforts and joys seem to follow convictions of conscience, . . 161 CHAP. IX. It is no certain sign that the religious affec- tions are such as have in them the nature of true religion, or that they have not, that they dispose persons to spend much time in religion, 179 CHAP. X. Nothing can be certainly known of the nature of religious affections, that they much dispose persons with their mouths to praise and glorify God, 182 CHAP. XI. It is no sign that affections are right, or that they are wrong, that they make persons exceedingly con- fident, that what they experience is divine, 185 CHAP. XII. Nothing can be certainly concluded concern- ing the nature of religious affections from this, that the relation persons give of them are very affecting and pleas- ing to the truly godly, 206 CONTENTS. Kx PART III. Page What are distinguishing Signs of truly gracious and HOLY Affections, 223 ■CHAP. I. Affections that are truly spiritual and gracious, arise from those influences and operations on the heart, which are spiritual, supernatural, and divine, .... 230 CHAP. II. The first objective ground of gracious affections, is the transcendently excellent and amiable nature of di- vine things, as they are in themselves, , 294i CHAP. III. Those affections that are truly holy, are pri- marily founded on the loveliness of the moral excellency of divine things, 315 CHAP. IV. Gracious affections arise from the mind's be- ing enlightened spiritually to apprehend divine things, , 334< CHAP. V. Truly gracious affections are attended with a reasonable and spiritual conviction of the judgment, of the reality and certainty of divine things, ....... 373 CHAP. VI. Gracious affections are attended with evange- lical humiliation, . . , - 403 CHAP. VII. Another thing wherein gracious affections are distinguished from others, is, that they are attended with a change of nature, 447 CHAP. VIII. Truly gracious affections differ from those that are false and delusive, in that they are attended with the lamb-like, dove-like spirit and temper of Jesus Christ, 4-54 CHAP. IX. Gracious affections soften the heart, and are attended with a Christian tenderness of spirit, .... i71 Ix CONTENTS. Page CHAP. X. Truly gracious and holy affections differ from those that are false, in beautiful symmetry and proportion, 485 CHAP. XI. Another very distinguishing difference between gracious affections and others, is, that the higher gracious affections are raised, the more is a spiritual appetite after spiritual attainments increased, .,,.,... 502 CHAP. XII. Gracious and holy affections have their exer- cise and fruit in Christian practice, 512 APPENDIX. Two Letters to Mr. Gillespie, 629 PREFACE, There is no question whatever of greater impor- tance to mankind, and in which it more concerns every individual to be well resolved, than this. What are the distinguishing qualijications of those that are in favour with God, and entitled to his eternal re- wards ? Or, which comes to the same thing, What is the nature of true religion ? And wherein do lie the distinguishing marks of that virtue and holiness that is acceptable in the sight of God ? But though it be of such importance, and though we have clear and abundant light in the word of God to direct us in this matter, yet there is no one point, in which pro- fessing Christians differ more from one another. It would be endless to reckon up the variety of opinions on this point, that divide the Christian world ; mak- ing manifest the truth of our Saviour's declaration, " Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, that leads to hfe, and few there be that find it." The consideration of these things has long engaged me to attend to this matter, with the utmost diligence and care, and exactness of search and inquiry of which I have been capable : it is a subject on which my mind has been peculiarly intent, ever since 1 first en- tered on the study of divinity. But as to the sue- 62 cess of my inquiries, it must be left to the judgment of the reader of the following Treatise. I am sensible it is much more difficult to judge impartially of that which forms the subject of this discourse, in the midst of such a dust and smoke of controversy, as is now in this land, about things of this nature : and as it is more difficult to write im- partially, so it is more difficult to read impartially. — Many will probably be hurt in their spirits, to find so much that appertains to religious affection, here con- demned : and perhaps indignation and contempt will be excited in others, by finding so much justified and approved. And perhaps some will be ready to charge me with inconsistence with myself, in so much approving some things, and so much condemning others ; as I have found this has always been objected to by some, ever since the beginning of our late con- troversies about religion. It is a hard thing to be a hearty zealous friend of what has been ^ood and glorious, in the late extraordinary appearances, and to rejoice much in it : and, at the same time, to see the evil and pernicious tendency of what has been bad, and earnestly to oppose it. But, yet, I am humbly, but fully persuaded, we shall never be in the way of truth, nor go on in a way acceptable to God, and tending to the advancement of Christ's kingdom, till we do so. There is indeed something very mysterious in it, that so much good, and so much bad, sliould be mixed together in the church of God : as it is a mysterious thing, and what has puzzled and amazed many a good Christian, that there should be that which is so divine and precious, as the saving grace of God, and the new and divine 63 nature, dwelling in the same heart, with so much cor- ruption, hypocrisy, and iniquity, in a particular saint. Yet neither of these is more mysterious than real. And neither of them is a new or rare thing. It is no new thing, that much false religion should pre- vail, at a time of great reviving of true religion ; and that at such a time multitudes of hypocrites should spring up among true saints. It was so in that great reformation and revival of religion in Josiah's time ; as appears by Jer. iii. 10. and iv. 3, 4. and also by the great apostacy that there was in the land, so soon after his reign. So it was in that great out-pouring of the Spirit upon the Jews, in the days of John the Baptist : as appears by the great apostacy of that people, so soon after so general an aw^akening; and the temporary religious comforts and joys of many : " Ye were willing for a season to rejoice in his light." So it was in those great commotions that were among the multitude, occasioned by the preaching of Jesus Christ : of the many that were then called, but few chosen; of the multitude that were roused and affected by his preaching, and appeared mightily engaged, full of admiration of Christ, and elevated with joy ; but few were true disciples, that stood the shock of the great trials that came afterwards, and endured to the end : many were like the stony ground, or thorny ground; and but few, comparatively, like the good ground. Of the whole heap that was gathered, great part was chaff, that the wind afterwards drove away; and the heap of wheat that was left, was comparatively small ; as appears abundantly, by the history of the New Testament. So it was in that great out- pouring of the Spirit in the apostles days ; as appears 64 by Matt. xxiv. 10, 13. Gal. iii. 1. and iv. 11, 15. Phil. ii. 21. and iii. 18, 19. and the two epistles to the Corinthians, and many other parts of the New Testament. And so it was in the great reformation from Popery. It appears plainly to have been in the visible church of God, in times of great reviving of religion, as it is with the fruit trees in the spring : there are a multitude of blossoms, all which appear fair and beautiful, and there is a promising appearance of young fruits ; but many of them are but of short continuance, they soon fall off and never come to maturity. Not that we suppose it will always be so ; for though there never will, in this world, be an entire purity, either in particular saints, or in the church of God, in a perfect freedom from mixtures of corrup- tion ; without any mixture of hypocrites with saints, and counterfeit religion, and false appearances of grace with true religion, and real holiness : yet it is evident, there will come a time of much greater purity in the church of God, than has been in ages past, as is plain by these texts of Scripture.* And one great reason of it will be, that at that time God will give much greater light to his people, to distinguish between true religion and its counter- feits : " and he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer to the Lord an offering in righteousness.'* And which is a continuation of the prophecy of the same • Isa. Iii. 1. Ezek. xliv. 6, 7, 9. Joel iii. 17. Zech. xiv. 21. Psal. Ixix. 32, 35, 36. Isa. xxxv. 8, 18. and iv. 3, 4. Ezek. xx. 3a Psal.xxxvii. 9, 10,21,29. 65 happy times, " Then shall ye return, and discern between the righteous and the wicked ; between him that serveth God, and him that serveth him not." It is by the mixture of counterfeit rehgion with true, not discerned and distinguished, that the devil has had his greatest advantage against the cause and kingdom of Christ hitherto. It is principally by this means that he has prevailed against all revivings of religion that ever have been, since the first founding of the Christian church. By this he hurt the cause of Christianity, in and after the apostolic age, much more than by all the persecutions of both Jews and Hea- thens : the apostles, in all their epistles, show them- selves much more concerned at the former mischief than the latter. By this, Satan prevailed against the reformation, begun by Luther, ZuingKus, &c. to put a stop to its progress, and bring it into disgrace, ten times more than by all those bloody, cruel, and be- fore unheard-of persecutions of the church of Rome. By this, principally, has he prevailed against revivals of rehgion, that have been in our nation since the reformation. By this, he prevailed against New- England, to quench the love, and spoil the joy of her espousals, about a hundred years ago. And I think I have had opportunity enough to see plainly, that by this the devil has prevailed against the late great revival of religion in New-England, so happy and promising in its beginning : here most evidently has been the main advantage Satan has had against us; by this he has foiled us: it is by this means that the daughter of Zion in this land now lies on the ground, in such piteous cu'cumstances as we now behold her, with her garments rent, her face dis- 66 figured, her nakedness exposed, her Hmbs broken, and weltermg in the blood of her own wounds, and unable to arise; and this so quickly after her late great joys and hopes : " Zion spreadeth forth her hands, and there is none to comfort her; the Lord hath commanded concerning Jacob, that his adversaries will be round about him: Jerusalem is as a men- struous woman among them." I have seen the devil prevail the same way against two great revivings of religion in this country. Satan goes on with mankind as he began with them. He prevailed against our first parents, cast them out of paradise, and suddenly brought all their happiness and glory to an end, by appearing to be a friend to their happy paradisaic state, and pretending to advance it to higher degrees. So the same cunning serpent that beguiled Eve through his subtlety, by perverting us from the simplicity that is in Christ, hath suddenly prevailed to deprive us of that fair prospect we had a little while ago, of a kind of paradisaic state of the church of God in New-England. After religion has revived in the church of God, and enemies appear, people that are engaged to de- fend its cause, are commonly most exposed, where they are least sensible of danger. While they are wholly intent to make head against the opposition that appears openly before them, and neglect care- fully to look around them, the devil comes behind them, and gives a fjital stab unseen ; and has oppor- tunity to give a more home stroke, and wound the deeper, because he strikes at his leisure, being ob- structed by no guard or resistance. And so it is ever likely to be in the church, when- i ■■4 67 ever religion revives remarkably, till we have learned well to distinguish between true and false religion, between saving affections and experiences, and those manifold fair shows, and glistering appearances, by which they are counterfeited; the consequences of which, when they are not distinguished, are often in- expressibly dreadful. By this means the devil grati- fies himself, by bringing it to pass, that that should be offered to God by multitudes, under a notion of a pleasing acceptable service to him, which is indeed above all things abominable to him. By this means, he deceives great multitudes about the state of their souls, making them think they are something when they are nothing, and so eternally undoes them ; and not only so, but establishes many in a stronoc confidence of their eminent holiness, who are in God's sight the vilest of hypocrites. By this means, he damps and wounds religion in the hearts of the saints, obscures and deforms it by corrupt mix- tures, causes their religious affections wofully to de- generate, and sometimes, for a considerable time, to be like the manna, that bred worms and stank ; and dreadfully insnares and confounds the minds of the saints, brings them into great difficulties and tempta- tions, and entangles them in a wilderness, out of which they cannot extricate themselves. By this means, Satan mightily encourages the hearts of open enemies of rehgion, and strengthens their hands and fills them with weapons, and makes strong their for- tresses : when, at the same time, religion and the church of God, lie exposed to them as a city with- out walls. By this means, he brings it to pass that men work wickedness under a notion of doing God 68 service, and so sin without restraint, yea, with ear- nest forwardness and zeal. By this means, he brings in even the friends of reHgion, insensibly to them- selves, to do the work of enemies, by destroying re- ligion in a far more effectual manner than open ene- mies can do, under a notion of advancing it. By this means, the devil scatters the flock of Christ, and sets them one against another, and that with great heat of spirit, under a notion of zeal for God ; and reli- gion, by degrees, degenerates into vain jangling; and, during the strife, Satan leads both parties far out of the right way, driving each to great extremes, one on the right hand, and the other on the left, according as he finds they are most inclined, or most easily swayed, till the right path in the middle is almost wholly neglected. And in the midst of this confusion, the devil has great opportunity to advance his own interest, to make it strong in ways innu- merable, and get the government of all into his own hands, to work his own will. And by what is seen of the terrible consequences of this counterfeit reli- gion, when not distinguished from true religion, God's people in general have their minds unhinged and un- settled in things of religion, and know not where to set their foot, or what to think or do; and many are brought into doubts whether there be any thing at all in rehgion; and heresy, and infideHty, and atheism greatly prevail. Therefore, it greatly concerns us to use our ut- most endeavours, clearly to discern, and have it well settled and established, wherein true religion consists. Till this be done, it may be expected that great re- vivings of religion will be but of short continuance : 69 till this be done, there is but little good to be ex- pected of all our warm debates, in conversation and from the press, not knowing clearly and distinctly for what we ought to contend. My design is to contribute my mite, and use my best (however feeble) endeavours to this end, in the ensuing Treatise ; in which it must be noted, that my desiOTi is somewhat different from the desicrn which I formerly published, which was to show, the distin- guishing marks of a work of the Spirit of God, in- cluding both his common and saving operations ; but what I aim at now, is to show the nature and signs of the gracious operations of God's Spirit, by which they are to be distinguished from all things what- ever that the minds of men are the subjects of, which are not of a saving nature. If I have succeeded in this my aim, in any tolerable measure, I hope it will tend to promote the interest of religion. And whe- ther I have succeeded to bring any light to this sub- ject, or not, and however my attempt may be re- proached, in these captious, censorious times, I hope in the mercy of a gracious and righteous God, for the acceptance of the sincerity of my endeavours ; and hope also for the candour and prayers of the true followers of the meek and charitable Lamb of God. « i PART I. CONCERNING THE NATURE OF THE AFFECTIONS,, AND THEIR IMPORTANCE IN RELIGION. I CONCERNING RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS. PART I, CONCERNING THE NATURE OF THE AFFECTIONS, AND THEIR IMPORTANCE IN RELIGION. 1 Peter i. 8. <« Whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory." In these words, the apostle represents the state of the minds of the Christians to whom he wrote, under the persecutions to which they were then subject. It is to these persecutions he has respect, in the two preceding verses, when he speaks of the trial of their faith, and of their being in heaviness through mani- fold temptations. « Such trials are of three-fold benefit to true reli- gion. Hereby its truth is manifested, and it ap- pears to be indeed true religion : trials, above all other things, have a tendency to distinguish between true and false rehgion, and to make the difference D 20 between tliem evidently to appear. Hence they are called by the name of trials, in the verse preceding the text, and in many other places : they try the tbith and religion of professors, of what sort it is, as apparent gold is tried in the fire, and manifested vrhether it be true gold or not. And the faith of true Christians being thus tried and proved to be true, is found, as stated in that verse, to praise, and honour, and glory. Besides, these trials are of further benefit to true relifnon ; they not only manifest its truth, but they make its genuine beauty and amiableness remarkably to appear. True virtue never appears so lovely, as when it is most oppressed ; and the divine excellency of real Christianity is never exhibited with such ad- vantage, as when under the greatest trials : then it is that true faith appears much more precious than o'old ; and, upon this account, is found to praise, and honour, and glory. Again, another benefit of such trials to true reli- <^>'ion is, that they purify and increase it. They not only manifest it to be true, but they tend to refine it, and deliver it from those false mixtures which incumber and impede it, that nothing may be left but that which is true. They not only tend to make tbe amiableness of true religion appear to the best advantage, but they tend to increase its beauty, by establishing and confirming it, making it more lively and vigorous, and purifying it from those things that obscured its lustre and glory. As gold that is tried in the fire is purged from its alloy, and all remainders of dross, and comes forth more solid and beautiful ; so true faith being tried like gold in the fire, becomes 75 more precious ; and thus also is found unto praise, and honour, and glory. The apostle seems to have respect to each of these benefits of persecution to true religion, in the verse preceding the text. And in the text, the apostle observes how true religion operated in the Christians to whom he wrote, under their persecutions, by which these benefits of persecution appeared in them. It w^as by these per- secutions their religion was manifested to be true re- ligion, and eminently appeared in its genuine beauty and amiableness ; and it also appeared to be increased and purified, and so was found unto praise, and honour, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ. And there were two kinds of operation, or exercise of true rehgion, in them, under their sufferings, of which the apostle takes notice in the text, w^herein these benefits appeared. 1. Love to Christ: " Whom having not seen, ye love." The world was ready to wonder, what strange principle it was that influenced them to expose them- selves to so great sufferings, to forsake the things that were seen, and renounce all those objects of sense that were dear and pleasant. They seemed to the men of the world as though they were beside them- selves, and to act as though they hated themselves ; there was nothing in their view that could induce them thus to suffer, or to support them under, and carry them through, such trials. But although there was nothing visible that the world saw^, or that the Christians themselves ever saw with theu' bodily eyes, that thus influenced and supported them, yet they had a supernatural principle of love to something un- seen; they loved Jesus Christ, for they saw him D 2 76 Spiritually whom the world saw not, and whom they themselves had never seen with bodily eyes. 2. Joy in Christ. Though their outward suffer- ings were very grievous, yet their inward spiritual joys were greater than their sufferings ; and these sup- ported and enabled them to suffer with cheerfulness. There are two things of which the apostle takes notice in the text concerning this joy. 1st, The man- ner in which it rises, and the way in which Christ, though unseen, is the foundation of it, namely, by faith ; which is the evidence of things not seen : " In whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice." 2d, The nature of this joy; "unspeak- able, and full of glory." Unspeakable in the nature of it; very different from worldly joys, and carnal delights ; of a vastly more pure, sublime, and heavenly nature, being something supernatural, and truly divine ; and so ineffably excellent, that there were no words to set forth the sublimity and exquisite sweetness of it. It was unspeakable also in degree ; it pleasing God to give them this holy joy, with a liberal hand, and in large measure, in their state of persecution. Their joy was full of glory. Although the joy was unspeakable, and no words were sufficient to de- scribe it, yet something might be said of it, and no words more fit to represent its excellency than these, that it was full of glory ; or, as it is in the original, glorified joy. In rejoicing with this joy, their minds were filled, as it were, with a glorious brightness, and their natures exalted and perfected. It was a most worthy, noble rejoicing, that did not corrupt and de- base the mind, as many carnal joys do ; but did greatly beautify and dignify it : it was a prelibation of the 77 joy of heaven, that raised their minds to a degree of heavenly blessedness ; it filled their minds with the light of God's glory, and made themselves to shine with some communication of that glory. Hence, the proposition or doctrine that I would draw from these words is this — Doctrine — True religion^ in a great measure, (consists in holy affections. We see that the apostle, in observing the opera- tions and exercises of rehgion in the Christians to whom he wrote, and in remarking wherein their re- ligion appeared to be true and of the right kind, when it had its greatest trial, being tried by perse- cution of what sort it w^as, as gold is tried in the fire, and when their religion not only proved true, but was most pure, and cleansed from its mixtures of that which was not true, and when rehgion appeared in them most in its genuine excellency and native beauty, and was found to praise, and honour, ami glory, — he singles out the religious affections of love and joy, that were then in exercise in them : these are the exercises of religion of which he takes no- tice, wherein their religion did thus appear true and pure, and in its proper glory. Here I would, I. Show what is intended by the affections. n. Observe some things which make it evident, that a great part of true religion lies in the affections. 78 CHAPTER I. The Affections are nothing else than the more vigorous and sensible exercises of the Inclination and Will of the Sold. God has endued the soul with two faculties : One is that by which it is capable of perception and speculation, or by which it discerns, and views, and judges of things ; which is called the understanding. The other is that by which the soul does not merely ^ perceive and view things, but is some way inclined with respect to the tilings it views or considers ; either is inclined to them, or is disinclined, and averse f?^om them : or it is the faculty by which the soul does not behold things, as an indifferent, unaffected spectator, but either as liking or disliking, pleased or displeased, approving or rejecting. This faculty is called by va- rious names : it is sometimes called the inclination ; and, as it has respect to the actions that are deter- mined and governed by it, is called the ivill : and the mind, with regard to the exercises of this faculty, is often called the heart. The exercises of this faculty are of two sorts : eitlier those by which the soul is carried out towards the things that are in view, in approving of them, being pleased with them, and inclined to them ; or those in which the soul opposes the things that are in view, in disapproving them, being displeased with them, averse from them, and rejecting them. And as the exercises of the inclination and will of 79 tlie soul are various in their kinds, so they are much more various in their degrees. There are some ex- ercises of pleasedness or displeasedness, inclination or disinclination, wherein the soul is carried hut a little beyond a state oi perfect indifference. And there are other degrees above this, wherein the approbation or dislike, pleasedness or aversion, are stronger ; and we may rise higher and higher, till the soul comes to act vigorously and sensibly, and the actings of the soul come to that strength, that (through the laws of the union which the Creator has fixed between soul and body) the motion of the blood and animal spirits he- ,.gin to be sensibly altered; whence oftentimes arises some bodily sensation, especially about the heart and vitals, that are the fountain of the fluids of the body : from whence it comes to pass, that the mind, wdth re- gard to the exercises of this faculty, perhaps in all nations and ages, is called the heart. They are, therefore, these more vigorous and sensible exercises of this faculty, that are called the affections. The will, and the affections of the soul, are not two faculties : the affections are not essentially dis- tinct from the will, nor do they differ from the mere actings of the will, and inclinations of the soul, hut only in the liveliness and sensibleness of exercise. It must be confessed, that language is here some- what imperfect, and the meaning of words in a con- siderable measure loose and unfixed, and not precisely limited by custom, which governs the use of language. In some sense, the affection of the soul differs nothing at all from the will and inclination, and the will never is in any exercise any further than it is affected ; it is not moved out of a state of perfect indifference, any 80 otherwise than as it is affected one way or other. But yet there are many actings of the will and inclination, that are not so commonly called affections : in every thing we do, wherein we act voluntarily, there is an ex- ercise of the will and inclination ; it is our inclination that governs us in our actions : but all the actings of the inclination and will, in all our common actions of Hfe, are not ordinarily called affections. Yet, what are commonly called affections are not essentially dif- ferent from them, but only in the degree and manner of exercise. In every act of the will whatever, the soul either likes or dislikes, is either inclined or dis- inclined, to what is in view : these are not essentially different from those affections of love and hatred : that liking or inclination of the soul to a thing, if it be in a high degree, and be vigorous and lively, is the very same thing with the affection of love: and that disliking and disinclining, if in a great degree, is the very same with hatred. In every act of the will for, or towards something not present, the soul is in some degree inclined to that thing ; and that inclination, if in a considerable degree, is the very same with the affection of desire. And in every act of the will, wherein the soul approves of something present, there is a degree of pleasedness ; and that pleasedness, if it be in a considerable degree, is the very same with the affection of joy or delight. And if the will dis- approves of what is present, the soul is in some de- gree displeased; and if that displeasedness be great, it is the very same with the affection of grief or sorrow. Such seems to be our nature, and such the laws of the union of soul and body, that there never is, in any case whatever, any lively and vigorous exercises 81 of the will or inclination of the soul, without some effect upon the body, in some alteration of the mo- tion of its fluids, and especially of the animal spirits. And, on the other hand, from the same laws of the union of soul and body, the constitution of the body, and the motion of its fluids, may promote the exer- cise of the aflections. But yet it is not the body, but the mind only, that is the proper seat of the af- fections. The body of man is no more capable of being really the subject of love or hatred, joy or sorrow, fear or hope, than the body of a tree, or than the same body of a man is capable of thinking and understanding. As it is the soul only that has ideas, so it is the soul only that is pleased or dis- pleased with its ideas. As it is the soul only that thinks, so it is the soul only that loves or hates, re- joices or is grieved at what it thinks of. Nor are these motions of the animal spirits, and fluids of the body, any thing properly belonging to the nature of the affections, though they always accompany them in the present state ; but are only effects or concomi- tants of the affections, that are entirely cUstinct from the affections themselves, and no way essential to them : so that an unbodied spirit may be as capable of love and hatred, joy or sorrow, hope or fear, or other affections, as one that is united to a body. The affections and passions are frequently spoken of as the same ; and yet, in the more common use of speech, there is in some respect a difference ; and affection is a word, that, in its ordinary signification, seems to be something more extensive than passion, being used for all vigorous lively actings of the will or inclination; but passion for those that are more D 3 8'2 sudden, and whose effects on the animal spirits are more violent, and the mind more overpowered, and less in its own command. As all the exercises of the inclination and will are either in approving and liking, or disapproving and rejecting, so the affections are of two sorts ; they are those by which the soul is carried out to what is in view, cleaving to it, or seeking it; or those by which it is averse from it, and opposes it. Of the former sort are love, desire, hope, joy, gra- titude, complacence. Of the latter kind are, hatred, fear, anger, grief, and such like ; which it is needless now particularly to define. And there are some affections in which there is a composition of each of the after-mentioned kinds of actings of the will; as in the affection o^ pity there is something of the former kind, towards the person suffering, and something of the latter, towards what he suffers. And so in zeal^ there is in it high appro- bation of some person or thing, together with vigorous apposition to v/hat is conceived to be contrary to it. CHAPTER 11. True lieliffion, in a great meamre, consists in the Affections, L What has been said of the nature of the af- fections makes this evident, and may be sufficient, without adding any thing further, to put this mat- ter beyond doubt; for who will deny that true reli- 83 lively actings of the inclination and will of the soul, or the fervent exercises of the heart? That religion which God requires, and will accept, does not consist in weak, dull, and lifeless wouldings, raising us but a httle above a state of indifference : God, in his word, insists greatly upon it, that we he in good earnest, fervent in spirit, and have our hearts vigorously engaged in religion : " Be ye fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." " And now, Israel, what doth the Lord thy God require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God, to walk in all his ways, and to love him, and to serve the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul?" " Hear, () Israel; the Lord our God is one Lord: and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might." It is such a fervent, vigorous engagedness of the heart in religion, that is the fruit of a real circumcision of the heart, or true regeneration, and that has the promises of life : " And the Lord thy God will circumcise thine heart, and the heart of thy seed, to love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, that thou mayest live." If we be not in ffood earnest in relitfion, and our wills and inclinations be not strongly exercised, we are nothing. The things of religion are so great, that there can be no suitableness in the exercises of. our hearts, to their nature and importance, unless they be lively and powerful. In nothing is vigour in the actings of our inclinations so requisite, as in religion ; and in nothing is lukewarmness so otUous. True religion is evermore a powerful thing ; and the 84 power of it appears, in the first place, in its inward exercises in the heart, which is the principal and original seat of it. Hence true religion is called the " powder of godliness," in distinction from the exter- nal appearances that are the " form" of it: " Hav- ing a form of godliness, but denying the power of it." The Spirit of God, in those that have sound and solid religion, is a spirit of powerful holy affec- tion ; and therefore, God is said to have given them " the spirit of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." And such, when they receive the Spirit of God in his sanctifying and saving influences, are said to be " baptized with the Holy Ghost, and with fire," by reason of the power and fervour of those exercises the Spirit of God excites in their hearts, whereby their hearts, when grace is in exercise, may be said " to burn within them ;" as it is said of the disciples. The business of religion is compared to those ex- ercises, wherein men are wont to have their hearts and strength greatly exercised and engaged; such as running, wrestling, or agonizing for a great prize or crown, and fighting with strong enemies that seek our lives, and warring as those that by violence take a city or kingdom. And though true grace has various degrees, and there are some that are but babes in Christ, in whom the exercise of the inclination and will towards divine and heavenly things is comparatively weak ; yet every one that has the power of godliness in his heart, has his inclinations and heart exercised towards God and divine things, with such strength and vigour, that these holy exercises do prevail in him above all car- 85 nal or natural affections, and are effectual to overcome them : for every true disciple of Christ loves him above father or mother, wife and children, brethren and sisters, houses and lands ; yea, than his own life. From hence it follows, that wherever true religion is, there are vigorous exercises of the inclination and will towards divine objects : but from what was said before, the vigorous, lively, and sensible exercises of the will, are no other than the affections of the soul. 2. The Author of the human nature has not only given affections to men, but has made them very much the spring of men's actions. As the affections do not only necessarily belong to the human nature, but are a very great part of it ; so (inasmuch as by regeneration, persons are renewed in the whole man, and sanctified throughout) holy affections do not only necessarily belong to true religion, but are a very great part of it. And as true religion is of a practi- cal nature, and God hath so constituted the human nature, that the affections are very much the spring of men's actions, this also shows, that true rehgion must consist very much in the affections. Such is man's nature, that he is very inactive, unless when he is influenced by love or hatred, de- sire, hope, fear, or some other affection. These af- fections we see to be the springs that set men agoing in all the affairs of life, and engage them in all their pursuits : these are the things that put men forward, and carry them along in all their worldly business : and men are especially excited and animated by these, in all affairs wherein they are earnestly engaged, and which they pursue with vigour. We see mankind to be exceedingly busy and active : and the affections 86 of men are the springs of the motion : take away all love and hatred, all hope and fear, all anger, zeal, and affectionate desire, and the world would be, in a great measure, motionless and dead; there would be no such thing as activity amongst mankind, or any earnest pursuit whatever. It is affection that en- gages the covetous man, and him that is greedy of worldly profits, in his pursuits ; it is by the affections that the ambitious man is urged forward in his pur- suit of worldly glory ; and it is the affections that ac- tuate the voluptuous man, in his pursuit of pleasure and sensual delights. The world continues, from age to age, in a continual commotion and agitation, in a pursuit of these things ; but take away all affec- tion, and the spring of all this motion would be gone, and the motion itself would cease. And as in worldly things, worldly affections are very much the spring of men's motion and action ; so in religious matters, the spring of their actions are very'much religious affections : he that has doctrinal knowledge and spe- culation only, without affection, never is engaged in the business of religion. 3. Nothing is more manifest in fact, than that the things of religion take hold of men's souls no further than they affect them. There are multi- tudes that often hear the word of God, and therein hear of those things that are infinitely great and im- portant, and that most nearly concern them, and all that is heard seems to be wholly ineffectual upon them, and to make no alteration in their disposition or be- haviour; and the reason is, they are not affected with what they hear. There are many that often hear of the glorious perfections of God, his almighty power 87 and boundless wisdom, his infinite majesty, and that holiness of God, by which he is of purer eyes than to behold evil, and cannot look on iniquity, and the heavens are not pure in his sight, and of God's infi- nite goodness and mercy; and hear of the great works of God's wisdom, power, and goodness, wherein there appear the admirable manifestations of these perfec- tions ; they hear particularly of the unspeakable love of God and Christ, and of the great things that Christ has done and suffered, and of the great things of another world, of eternal misery, in bearing the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God, and of end- less blessedness and glory in the presence of God, and the enjoyment of his dear love: they also hear the peremptory commands of God, and his gracious counsels and warnings, and the sweet invitations of the gospel ; I say, they often hear these things, and yet remain as they were before, with no sensible al- teration on them, either in heart or practice, because they are not affected with what they hear; and they ever will be so till they are affected. I am bold to assert, that there never was any considerable change wrought in the mind or conversation of any person, by any thing of a rehgious nature, that ever he read, heard, or saw, that had not his affections moved. Never was a natural man engaged earnestly to seek his salvation ; never were any such brought to cry after wisdom, and lift up their voice for un- derstanding, and to wrestle with God in prayer for mercy; and never was one humbled, and brought tc the foot of God, from any thing that ever he heard or imamned of his own unworthiness and desen'infys of God's displeasure ; nor was ever one induced to 88 fly for refuge unto Christ, while his heart remained unaffected. Nor was there ever a saint awakened out of a cold, lifeless frame, or recovered from a de- clining state in religion, and brought back from a lamentable depai'ture from God, without having his heart affected. And, in a word, there never was any thing considerable brought to pass in the heart or life of any man living, by the things of religion, that had not his heart deeply affected by those. 4. The holy Scriptures do every where place reli- gion very much in the affections ; such as fear, hope, love, hatred, desire, joy, sorrow, gratitude, compas- sion, and zeal. The Scriptures place much of religion in godly fear; insomuch that it is often spoken of as the charac- ter of those that are truly religious, that they trem- ble at God^s word, that they fear before him, that their flesh trembles for fear of him, and that they are afraid of his judgments, that his excellency makes them afraid, and his dread falls upon them ; and an appellation commonly given the saints in Scripture is, fearers of God^ or they that fear the Lord. And because the fear of God is a great part of true god- liness, hence true godliness, in general, is very com- monly called the fear of God. So hoi^e in God and in the promises of his word, is often spoken of in the Scripture, as a very con- siderable part of true religion. It is mentioned as one of the three great things of which religion con- sists. Hope in the Lord is also frequently men- tioned as the character of the saints : " Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God." " Blessed is the man that 89 trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is." " Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord." Religious fear and hope are, once and again, joined together, as jointly constituting the character of the true saints : ** Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear him, upon them that hope in his mercy." " The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear him, in those that hope in his mercy." Hope is so great a part of true religion, that the apostle says, " We are saved by hope." And this is spoken of as the helmet of the Christian soldier : " And for a helmet, the hope of salvation;" and the sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, which preserves it from being cast away by the storms of this evil world : " Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stead- fast, and which enter eth into that within the vail." It is spoken of as a great fruit and benefit which true saints receive by Christ's resurrection : " Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which, according to his abundant mercy, hath begot- ten us again unto a lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." The Scriptures place religion very much in the affection of love ; in love to God, and the Lord Je- sus Christ, and love to the people of God, and to mankind. The texts in which this is manifest, both in the Old and New Testament, are innumerable. But of this more afterwards. The contrary affection of hatred also, as having sin for its object, is spoken of in Scripture as no in- considerable part of true religion. It is spoken of as that by which true religion may be known and dis- 90 tinguished : " The fear of the Lord is to hate evil." And accordingly the saints are called upon to give evidence of their sincerity by this : " Ye that love the Lord, hate evil." And the Psalmist often men- tions it as an evidence of his sincerity : " I will walk within my house with a perfect heart. I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes : I hate the work of them that turn aside." " I hate every false way." " Do I not hate them, O Lord, that hate thee ?" So holy desire^ exercised in longings, hungerings, and thirstings after God and holiness, is often men- tioned in Scripture as an important part of true reli- gion : " The desire of our soul is to thy name, and to the remembrance of thee." " One thinff have I desired of the Lord, and 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." " As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?" " My soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is; to see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary." " How amiable are thy taber- nacles, O Lord of hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord; my heai't and my flesh crieth out for the living God." " My soul breakcth for the longing that it hath unto thy judgments at all times." Such a holy desire and thirst of soul is mentioned, as one of those great things which renders or denotes a man truly blessed, 91 in the beginning of Christ's sermon on the mount : *' Blessed are they that do hunger and thirst after righteousness ; for they shall be filled." And this holy thirst is spoken of, as a great thing in the con- dition of a participation of the blessings of eternal life : " I will give to him that is athirst, of the foun- tian of the water of life freely." The Scriptures speak of holy jot/ as a great part of true religion. So it is represented in the text. And as an important part of religion, it is often ex- horted to, and pressed wdth great earnestness : " De- light thyself in the Lord ; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart." " Rejoice in the Lord, ye righteous." " Rejoice, and be exceeding glad." " Finally, brethren, rejoice in the Lord." " Rejoice in the Lord alway : and again, I say, Rejoice." " Rejoice evermore." " Let Israel rejoice in him that made him : let the children of Zion be joyful in their King." This is mentioned among the princi- pal fruits of the Spirit of grace : " The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy," &c. The Psalmist mentions his holy joy as an evidence of his sincerity : " I have rejoiced in the way of thy testimonies, as much as in all riches." Religious sorrow, raourning, and hrokenness of heart, are also frequently spoken of as a great part of true relio-ion. These thincrs are often mentioned as distinguishing qualities of the true saints, and a great part of their character : " Blessed are they that mourn ; for they shall be comforted." " The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart, and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit." " The Lord hath anointed me — to bind up the broken-hearted — 92 to comfort all that mourn." This godly sorrow and brokenness of heart is often spoken of, not only as a great thing in the distinguishing character of the saints, but as that in them, which is peculiarly ac- ceptable and pleasing to God: " The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit : a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt 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 contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones." " To this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit." Another affection often mentioned, as that in the exercise of which much of true religiori appears, is gratitude ; especially as exercised in thankfulness, and praise to God. This being so much spoken of in the book of Psalms, and other parts of the holy Scrip- tures, I need not mention particular texts. Again, the holy Scriptures frequently speak o£ com- passion or mercy, as a very great and essential thing in true religion ; insomuch that good men are in Scripture denominated by this ; and a merciful man, and a good man, are equivalent terms in Scripture : " The righteous man perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart : merciful men are taken away." And the Scripture chooses out this quality, as that by which, in a peculiar manner, a righteous man is de- ciphered : " The righteous showeth mercy, and giv- eth." " He is ever merciful, and lendeth." " He that honoureth the Lord, hath mercy on the poor." *' Put ye on, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies," &c. This is one of those great 93 things, by which those who are truly blessed are de- scribed by our Saviour : " Blessed are the merci- ful, for they shall obtain mercy." And this Christ also speaks of, as one of the weightier matters of the law : " Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypo- crites ! for ye pay tithe of mint, and anise, and cum- min, and have omitted the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith." To the same purpose is that passage, " He shall show thee, O man, what is good ; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justice, and love mercy, and walk humbly with thy God ?" And also, " For I de- sired mercy, and not sacrifice ;" which seems to have been a text much delighted in by our Saviour, by his manner of citing it once and again. Zeal is also spoken of, as a very essential part of the rehgion of true saints. It is spoken of as a great object Christ had in view, in giving himself for our redemption : " Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." And this is spoken of as the great thing wanting in the lukewarm Laodiceans. 1 have mentioned but a few texts, out of many in the Scripture, which place religion very much in the affections. But what has been observed may be sufficient to show, that they who would deny that much of true religion lies in the affections, must throw away what we have been wont to own for our Bible, and get some other rule by which to judge of the nature of religion. 5. The Scriptures represent true rehgion as being summarily comprehended in love, the chief of the affections, and fountain of all other affections. 94 So ovir blessed Saviour represents the matter, in answer to the lawyer, who asked him, which was the