r D 
 
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 LIBRA-RY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Theological Seminary 
 
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 BV 600 .E92 1833 ' 
 
 Evans, Robert Wilson, 1789-i 
 
 1866. 
 The church of God 
 
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 ' Book, _ ..ZZMT 
 
 A DONATION 
 
 FROM 
 
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THE 
 
 CHURCH OF GOD, 
 
 IN 
 
 A SERIES OF DISSERTATIONS. 
 
 BY 
 
 / 
 
 THE REV. ROBERT WILSON EVANS, 
 
 FEIIOW OF TRIKITT COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 Pax cojlestis civitatis ordinatissima et concordissima socictas frucndi 
 Deo et invicem in Deo. — Augustin. Civ. Dei. xix. 13. 
 
 PHH^ADELPHIA : 
 
 KEY & BIDDLE, 23 MINOR STREET. 
 
 BOSTON: ALLEN & TICKNOR. 
 
 1833. 
 
Philadelphia : 
 
 T. K, Collins & Co. Printers, 
 
 49 Prune Street. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 On the Objects of Revelation, and on the Spirit in which it 
 
 should be Received. ----- 5 
 
 On the Origin and Constitution of the Church of God. - 25 
 
 On Prophecy. ------ 42 
 
 On Scriptm-e. - - . - - -58 
 
 On Scripture. ------ 72 
 
 On Sacrifice. - - - - - - 87 
 
 On the Priesthood of tlie Church of God. - - - 100 
 
 On Prayei'. - - - - - _ -113 
 
 On Repentance. ------ 125 
 
 On the State of a Member of the Church of God. - - 136 
 
 On the Analogy of tlie Natui-al and Spiritual Birth. - 149 
 
 On the Reward of Obedience. - - - _ I6O 
 
 The Profession of a Member of the Church of God. - 173 
 
 On the Principles of Morality in tlie Church of God. - 183 
 
 On the Comparative Opportunities of tlie Earlier and Later 
 
 Church. - - - _ _ -197 
 
 On the Fortunes of the Church. - _ . _ 2IO 
 
THE 
 
 CHURCH OF GOD. 
 
 DISSERTATION I. 
 
 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION, AND ON THE SPIRIT IN WHICH 
 IT SHOULD BE RECEIVED. 
 
 But the natural man perceiveth not the things of the Spirit of 
 God, for they are foolishness unto him : neither can he know 
 them, for they are spiritually discerned. — 1 Cor. ii. 14. 
 
 The natural man here mentioned by the apostle, is a title 
 which will apply to two classes of mankind. It may desig- 
 nate either those who, left entirely to their own faculties and 
 notions, derive no knowledge whatever of God from Revela- 
 tion ; or those who, living under the blessings of a Revelation, 
 think and act just as if it had never reached their ears — who, 
 reckless and unconscious of the light which it had afforded, 
 even to themselves in despite of themselves, attribute such 
 knowledge as they have of heavenly things to mere force of 
 human reason, and set down the revealed mysteries of God 
 as the discoveries of inquiring man. With the former cha- 
 racter, it is our supreme blessing not to be immediately con- 
 cerned : in the latter, our interest is close and painful. It 
 encounters us continually both from without and from within. 
 It is not confined to the immoral and thoughtless professor 
 of the Gospel, but attaches itself more or less to all who have 
 not perfected their faith ; to all who, not having as yet com- 
 pletely ascertained, by study of the Word, by inquiry into 
 
6 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 
 
 their own hearts and understandings, and by a comparison of 
 the results in each case, the whole sum of what they have 
 owed to God's special instructions, and, insufficiently hum- 
 bled, persist in claiming for their own self-acquired knowledge, 
 one iota of his blessed Revelation. Who must not plead 
 guilty here, if he but diligently discuss his past and present 
 frame of mind 1 For the more we think, the more we find 
 ourselves beholden to it, and the less therefore to have been 
 hitherto our sense of its exceeding value. Alas ! we are too 
 apt to forget the Giver in the enjoyment of our bodily bless- 
 ings ; but still less lively is our sense of his extraordinary 
 intervention displayed in the possession of our spiritual ; if 
 thanksgiving be too often neglected after earthly food, still 
 more frequently is it omitted after heavenly. We need not 
 go far for the reason of this perverseness. The former class 
 of blessings contains the supplies to the primary wants of our 
 animal nature ; their renewal is continually sought by its 
 appetites, they are necessary to its very existence ; hence 
 they obtain the earnest attention of our mind, ever rousing it 
 and keeping it alive by their palpable ob^'iousness and con- 
 tinual repetition. But the character of the latter class is just 
 the reverse of all this. The daily bread which they supply 
 is not necessary either to the existence or enjoyment of the 
 body ; it is spiritually taken, and, therefore, the want of it 
 can be discerned by such only as have become conscious of 
 their spiritual nature, and accordingly grown desirous of satis- 
 fying its cravings. It is not, therefore, until our spiritual 
 man hath at least gained one victory over our natural, hath 
 entered the house and bound the strong man who had us in 
 possession, that the occupation of our attention can be vindi- 
 cated, and our minds left free to the solicitation of the nobler 
 blessings. Then, indeed, searching the resources of our own 
 minds within, appreciating their supplies from without, we 
 arrive at the vital distinction between what we know of God 
 and things appertaining to God, by mere force of our natural 
 unassisted powers, and what by means of his extraordinary 
 illumination. Then we daily grow more acute in the discern- 
 ment of this difference; until, in the end, with a strength of 
 conviction which the wise of this world may call bigotry, 
 and w'ith a depth of humiliation which they may term abject- 
 ness, we clearly perceive, and frankly acknowledge, ascribing 
 glory and tlianks unto God the Father, through Jesus Christ 
 his Son, our Saviour, that from our ow.n selves we know 
 
ON THiE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 7 
 
 nothing of heavenly things, but that from him, and by the 
 mercy of his special intervention with our fallen nature, we 
 derive every and the least particle of our knowledge of him as 
 he really is. 
 
 But how many, professing the name of Christ, have fought 
 and won this glorious victory? how many have even ever 
 bethought themselves of the necessity of the struggle 1 Alas ! 
 the natural man, in the second sense of the word, is but too 
 common a character in the visible church of God. Indolently 
 succumbing to his animal nature, he passively acquiesces in 
 the results of his education and experience : a series of notions 
 on high and awful subjects have become familiar to him, and 
 both pride and ignorance conspire to lead him to regard all 
 familiar truths as the property of his own mind. These, 
 according as he is content to take his place amid the crowd, 
 or is ambitious of the character of a philosopher, he throws 
 into the common mass of first principles and incontestible 
 axioms, or places among the sure deductions of human rea- 
 son : hence much unconscious practical infidelity, and hence, 
 alas ! some avowed apostacy. To nature is ascribed what 
 nature could never give, and to God are refused acknowledg- 
 ments for what God could alone bestow. On the very thresh- 
 hold, then, of addressing to any Christian body an investigation 
 into the nature and properties of the church of God, we find 
 it necessary to ascertain the point at which its extraordinary 
 supply of knowledge, meeting the deficiencies of our nature, 
 comes in aid of our ordinary information. The discovery of this 
 will disclose at once the special blessedness and high privi- 
 leges of which we are too apt to be unconscious. Thus we shall 
 see the utter destitution of the natural man, and the unbound- 
 ed wealth of the spiritual man. Thus we shall learn duly to 
 value the waters of our unearthly Jordan, and, with the fasti- 
 dious daintiness of the Persian king, to drink of one river 
 only, — spiritual kings from a spiritual river. Thus we shall 
 duly appreciate the milk and honey of our holy land ; and, 
 contrasting its glorious abundance with the scanty springs, 
 the bitter wells, and the palling food of the wilderness, in 
 which our natural man was so long wandering, tempting and 
 grieving God, we shall joyfully advance with his pillar of 
 light in our front, explore still further, still more carefully, 
 and finally find therein our everlasting habitation. 
 
 The necessary objects, therefore, of a Revelation from God, 
 or, in other words, the fundamental principles of his church 
 
8 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 
 
 upon earth, require our present discussion. And for this we 
 have most ample materials provided. Not only have we the 
 result at which our minds, well explored and carefullj'^ ab- 
 stracted from the associations of revealed truth, can arrive, 
 (how does the very difficulty of the abstraction display the 
 abundance of God's mercy!) but we have at the same time 
 the results which the most g-ifted minds of former days ob- 
 tained, in such a search — minds, these, unfettered by the asso- 
 ciations which ours find it so painful to throw off. The 
 ancient philosophers were men placed in very different (and, 
 for the mere present purpose, in very advantageous) circum- 
 stances from ourselves. They had been violently driven by 
 the superstitions, with which religion had been overlaid, to 
 forego all tradition, in which channel alone, however corrupt, 
 God's Revelation could have reached them, and to yield 
 themselves unreservedly to the deductions of their natural 
 unassisted reason. If, then, having laid down the questions 
 which it must be the prime object of moral and intellectual 
 man to solve, we have reason to conclude, from the examina- 
 tion of our minds, that they could never of themselves have 
 obtained the solution ; and if, further, those men failed also, 
 and came grievously short of the end, notwithstanding an 
 enviable possession of all human acquirements which would 
 seem requisite for the end ; although they were the lights of 
 their several ages and countries, and, earnestly bent upon the 
 discovery, engaged head and heart in the service ; although 
 they were sages, whose acute understandings, refined by 
 severest discipline, and unremittingly employed in pressing 
 on to the furthest limits at Mhieh the light of nature was 
 visible, left unexplored no attainable point in things and rela- 
 tions, human and divine ; — if this shall be our conclusion, 
 then we shall have determined the objects of a Revelation 
 from God. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the discussions upon the supreme 
 good, we may safely pronounce, that the universal desire of 
 mankind is, to be released from the perplexities and appre- 
 hensions attendant upon their view of death. In this view 
 are terminated all their hopes and fears. All the sufferings 
 of the body, all the reverses of life, are secondary to this last 
 of sufferings, this last and greatest of changes. The living 
 principle within men is continually whispering, (and making 
 up for argument by perseverance,) that there is something 
 beyond the grave, and the pangs of the dissolving body are 
 
ON THK OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 9 
 
 as notliing in the scale, weighed with the anxiety and doubt 
 attendant upon the thoughts of what may await us beyond. 
 To trample, therefore, under foot the insatiable grave, to take 
 the sting out of its terrors, is his grand moral endeavour. To 
 ensure this triumph, he puts on all his intellectual armour, 
 and gives the keenest edge to the sword of his understanding. 
 Now this, his prime object, steadily followed up, will involve 
 him in the following questions : 
 
 First, Finding himself, in common with all around him, 
 subject to a perpetual, invisible, invincible controul, he has 
 here discovered the arbiter of life and death ; the properties, 
 therefore, of this influential being, and the various relations 
 existing between these, and such as belong to man, are to be 
 sought out. 
 
 Secondly, These being found, must be the means, if there 
 be any, of determining the question of death, whether we be 
 concerned in any state beyond it, or not. 
 
 Thirdly, Supposing the belief in a future state to be the 
 result of this inquiry, then follows the anxious question, 
 whether this state have a retrospective view to our conduct in 
 this life, and shall be happy or miserable, according as we 
 have been good or wicked. 
 
 And, Fourthly, If such a future state be credible, then may 
 there not be a hope afforded to imperfect man, that, as in the 
 case of retribution in this life, repentance may procure remis- 
 sion of punishment. 
 
 Such is the series of questions, the solution of which 
 touches the highest interests of man. In other Avords, they 
 are, the attributes of God, the life and judgment to come, the 
 forgiveness of sins. These, therefore, if they shall appear 
 incapable of proof upon any ground of human reason, will 
 be the grand objects of a Revelation from God. The 
 Deist no doubt will smile to see placed to this account, truths 
 which he reckons so obvious to reason. How obvious they 
 are, let him judge, when he has entirely stripped himself of 
 all the prejudices of an education in a Christian country : 
 how obvious they have been, let him consider, when he turns 
 over the pages of the most subtle reasoners of antiquity. 
 We will now briefly examine them, in order. 
 
 On the subject of the attributes of God, it is necessary to 
 
 attend to a distinction, which has been too seldom kept in 
 
 sight. They form two separate classes, according as we 
 
 consider God to be the physical creator and maintainer of the 
 
 B 2 
 
10 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 
 
 universe, or to be its moral governor. These bring us into 
 very different degrees of intimacy with him ; and the disco- 
 very of the one class is very far indeed from introducing us 
 to the knowledge of the other. The confusion of them has 
 led to much undue stress being laid upon natural theology, 
 (the real value of which, however, I would be the last to de- 
 cry,) and lies, indeed, at the bottom of all infidelity. 
 
 Let us, then, in the first place, suppose that, by comparing 
 the appearances and operations of the sensible world with the 
 effects of his own powers and faculties, the natural man, as- 
 cending to a first cause, has established to his entire convic- 
 tion the certainty of the existence of a sole, almighty, all- 
 wise, all-good, everlasting being, the maker of every thing in 
 heaven and earth. To this, as the arbiter of his fate, as the 
 creator and maintainor of his life, as the author of all its 
 blessings, he will reasonably offer praise, adoration, and 
 thanksgiving (Rom. i. 21). Now, had man continued in his 
 innocence, this knowledge had plainly been quite sufficient': 
 all of which he knew was good : evil was unknown to him. 
 His blessed state therefore required not the notion of God's 
 attributes as a moral governor, who in him had as yet no sin 
 to pity, to pardon, to rebuke, or to punish. But very differ- 
 ent, alas ! is the case with fallen man. He knows evil ; he 
 is surrounded by it on every side, in every shape of sin, and 
 death. What comfort shall he derive now from the contem- 
 plation of this being? The more he contemplates him, the 
 further he finds himself removed from him. If he look up to 
 heaven, there he sees world beyond world intervening between ; 
 if he look down upon earth, there he finds beneath him world 
 below world (even until it be contained in a drop of water) 
 interposing, and blocking up his way in this direction. 
 He finds himself shrunk up into a point amid infinity. How 
 shall he have intercourse with a being which thus recedes as 
 he advances, and whom he finds, at the end of the furthest 
 possible pursuit of his intellect, more remote than everl 
 How shall he assure himself of the sympathy of such a be- 
 ing ; how shall he refer his practice to this obscure and dis- 
 tant abstraction, this occupant of his head and not of his 
 heart; what chords of relation shall be drawn to connect the 
 weakness, the folly, the unholiness of man, with the perfect 
 power, wisdom, and goodness of this being? Alas ! the loss 
 of innocence ! how utterly did it sever the links of communi- 
 cation between God and man. Fallen man finds a lamenta- 
 
ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 11 
 
 ble change in himself, which requires a corresponding change 
 in this unchangeable being, in order to maintain any connexion 
 with him. Looking up irom his dungeon of bodily and men- 
 tal anguish, perplexity, and despair, he desires the interference 
 of some superior being, who may so far resemble himself as 
 to pity him, to pardon him, to do him right. He longs to 
 discover a moral governor of the universe, to whom he may 
 appeal for support amid such intolerable evils. And now how 
 shall he proceed 1 Shall he invest this being with attributes 
 derived from perfect human government 1 So say his feelings : 
 but what says his reason 1 Will an abiding and rational con- 
 viction (and without this there can be no faith, no religion) 
 give testimony to this yearning 1 Will reason allow him to 
 invest with the attributes of man this being, which continu- 
 ally recedes further from him at every approach which he 
 essays 1 She rudely repelled him on the very steps of the 
 entrance into the sanctuary. She coldly asked him how to 
 this sole perfect being he could ascribe qualities which owe 
 their existence (as far as he knows) to the mutual dealings of 
 imperfect beings 1 How shall he ascribe to him mercy, of 
 which man could never have formed the notion, much less ex- 
 ercised the quality, had he not been an offender 1 how ima- 
 gine the combination of perfect justice and perfect mercy, (for 
 in a perfect being both these must be perfect,) when the more 
 perfect we conceive each to be, the more irreconcilable do they 
 appear 1 How attribute to pure mind qualities which our 
 experience denies to exist apart from body 1 If man, either 
 not consulting, or not following reason when consulted, gave 
 vent to his feelings, and invested this being with moral attri- 
 butes, the consequences were such as always result from with- 
 drawing the latter from the regulations of the former. Human 
 vices soon come upon the list of attributes, and at last quite 
 thrust out the virtues. God became, in human notions, a 
 powerful, but evil and capricious, being ; and thus in the end 
 " he changed the glory of the uncorruptible God into an image 
 made like corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, 
 and creeping things — they changed the truth of God into a 
 lie, and worshipped and served the creature more than the 
 Creator, who is blessed for ever." If, however, the man of 
 reason started from this dream of absurdity into which he 
 had been betrayed, and turned aside to the investigation of 
 the divine nature, he met with no better success. He in- 
 quired, was this being pure mind, or compounded of mind 
 and body 1 The first supposition was to him inconceivable, 
 
12 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 
 
 and, as to any practical purpose, unavailing. He had recourse 
 therefore to the latter, and thus God, after all, was an animal ! 
 The most rational of such as adopted this monstrous suppo- 
 sition, conceived the universe to be the body through which 
 the divine mind was diffused. This Pantheism, by deifying 
 parts of the whole, brought the philosopher back to his old 
 prison-house, the polytheism of the vulgar, and thus he also, 
 " thinking himself wise, became a fool, and changed the 
 glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like cor- 
 ruptible man." Thus the attributes of God, as moral go- 
 vernor of the universe, being undiscoverable by human reason, 
 are known to man by Revelation alone. 
 
 But, in the next place, these being unknown, it is quite 
 impossible that he can proceed to the knowledge of the life 
 and judgment to come. Nor were these points ever seriously 
 entertained by the ancient philosophers; such as gratified 
 their natural longing after immortality by specious conjectures, 
 unable to admit the separate existence of mind, (however sepa- 
 rate in nature from the body,) considered the human mind as 
 a portion of the divine pervading mind, and held, that to this, 
 after the dissolution of the enclosure of the flesh, it became 
 re-united. On this ground they readily built the doctrines of 
 pre-existence and transmigration ; but the preservation of the 
 same individual consciousness after death, a point so necessa- 
 ry to a state of future retribution, was any thing but a neces- 
 sary consequence of this hypothesis. 
 
 The natural man's ignorance of God's moral attributes, is 
 at once fatal to the reasoning of certain deists, who, having 
 recourse to the consideration of the unequal distribution of 
 good and evil in this life, assert it to be imperative upon God's 
 justice to correct this in another life, and thus imagine that 
 reason has proved the doctrine. Were we even to grant them 
 the knowledge of those attributes as founded in reason, they 
 would even then be unable to prove their point ; for they must 
 prove that the above inequality is real, and not apparent, 
 which is contrary to the known fact, that no wise and good 
 man would at any moment exchange his condition, bodily and 
 mental, with another. They must show us that the good and 
 evil implied in this argument are intrinsically good and evil, 
 since some sages have denied them to be such, and others 
 allowed them to be but trivially such ; and they must show 
 why this corrective life must needs be immortal, instead of 
 the same length with the original life. 
 
 It is true, that a belief in a future state has pervaded all 
 
ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 13 
 
 ages and all countries. But this fact, to which, after all his 
 attempts at demonstration, the philosopher was compelled to 
 appeal, needs only show that it has been revealed at a period 
 before mankind was divided into nations and distant lands; 
 and indeed, it seems a moral impossibility, that a doctrine 
 touching our welfare so vitally, presenting the ultimate object 
 of all hope and fear, applicable to an event daily suggested to 
 the mind from sights without and feelings w^ithin ; which so 
 continually receives apparent confirmation from the spectral 
 illusions of our imagination ; which reconciles us at once to 
 the seemingly unequal distribution of the good and evil of this 
 life, and thus particularly interests the poor and the afflicted, 
 who always form the great mass of mankind, — it seems im- 
 possible that such a doctrine, once established by Revelation, 
 should ever, in any very material degree, be forgotten. We 
 have thus produced the second object of Revelation. 
 
 On the third head we might have spared all discussion, 
 since it is a question of one of God's moral attributes, and 
 therefore undemonstrable by reason. We should, therefore, 
 have here dismissed it, had it not been not only the principal 
 attribute in which we are concerned, but also the most remote 
 from our apprehension ; had it not been the most familiar to 
 us in Revelation, and therefore been deemed by the heedless 
 the most obvious to our faculties ; had it not been taken for 
 granted, as a matter of course, by those who deny the grounds 
 on which Revelation places it, — that is, on the satisfaction of 
 Christ; had it not been the main link, or rather the only one 
 which connects God and man. 
 
 Derived, as our sense of this attribute is, from human deal- 
 ings, we must suppose it to be called forth in God by the same 
 cause as in the most perfect man, — that is, by repentance on 
 the part of the offender. But what, excepting a familiarity, 
 through eighteen hundred years, with the joyful proclamation 
 of their mutual relation, could have led men to think that the 
 connexion between the two was necessary and demonstrable, 
 and to mistake for cause and effect what God's good pleasure 
 alone, and this upon specified grounds, has made constant 
 concomitants ? The demonstration attempted by the gain- 
 sayers of Revelation, proceeds through a long array of postu- 
 lates, which can never be granted by reason. They assume, 
 that an infinitely holy being like God, must (and not may) 
 have a kind consideration for so unholy a being as offending 
 man : that his love must needs remain after its only conceiv- 
 
14 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 
 
 able object, man's innocence, shall have been obliterated : that 
 love enlarged to infinity nntust thereby take in objects un- 
 worthy of it, while justice enlarged to infinity must not include 
 objects which are desorving of its animadversions ; that God's 
 justice, assumed here to admit of satisfaction from men, can 
 receive in compensation fjom the offender any thing which is 
 not God's already : that a principle which has its very founda- 
 tion in the liability of offending and offended man, to change 
 their relative places, and in the assurance which the penitent 
 gives of future security to the offended, must be applicable to 
 the relations existing between two parties, one of which is in- 
 finitely holy and infinitely powerful : that the amendment of 
 the life future must influence the character of the life past : 
 that the doing our duty through a part of life, must be equiva- 
 lent to doing it through the whole : that the means of making 
 reparation must always continue, though the objects of our 
 offence are daily vanishing from this fleeting world, and our 
 condition is never the same : that, lastly, analogy, — in such 
 cases as the present, of peculiar moment, — is in favour of their 
 argument, while it is, on the contrary, directly opposed to it. 
 For when we look on the face of the world, do we not con- 
 tinually observe, that no tears of repentance, however sincere ; 
 no pangs of sorrow and contrition, however sharp, can avert 
 or even arrest the penalties which men have incurred in the 
 body ] we see disease incurable, poverty irremediable, dis- 
 grace irreparable. To all this we may add, that were a prin- 
 ciple, important as this, so obvious to human reason, we 
 ought surely to meet with it in the writings of the ancient 
 moralists. No where, however, does it appear. In this, then, 
 we have the third object of Revelation. 
 
 But there remains another point still, and as yet unadverted 
 to, because it is only after having had these three secured and 
 certified to us that we discover the necessity of a Revelation 
 of God upon it. Our very riches open our eyes to our poverty, 
 just as our learning does to our ignorance. This point is the 
 assurance of God's grace to help our infirmities. We remarked 
 how man shrank into a point on the contemplation of the in- 
 tellectual and physical attributes (so to call them) of God. 
 What, then, shall he appear, upon the contemplation of his 
 moral attributes, to which he is now introduced ] In the for- 
 mer case, we confess our utter insignificance ; we are hum- 
 bled at the nothingness of our most boasted power and intelli- 
 gence ; we cry out, " Lord, what is man that thou art mindful 
 
ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 15 
 
 of him, or the son of man that thou regardest him 1" But in 
 the latter case, we are brought down to a strain of humiliation 
 far lower than this ; we have to confess utter unworthiness, to 
 acknowledge the want of holiness and goodness ; we cry out, 
 " God be merciful to me a sinner." There our understanding 
 was humbled, and we sank in the scale of intelligent beings ; 
 but here our heart is arraigned, and we sink in the scale of 
 good beings. From this despair God's forgiveness raises us. 
 But will this satisfy us now 1 God, in the revelation of his 
 moral attributes, hath opened our eyes to the dazzling riches 
 of moral excellence ; he has awakened our hearts to aspirations 
 after its attainment. And has he admitted us to this view 
 only to gaze and despair 1 Hath he given us light and life, 
 and yet condemned us to the scale, in the spiritual world, of 
 the periwinkle on the rock, helpless and motionless 1 No ! 
 Here, for the fourth time, hath God intervened with his gifts 
 of glorious mercy. He hath bidden us be holy as he is 
 holy ; he hath commanded us to be conformed to his own 
 image, as expressed in his blessed and only begotten Son. 
 And for this he has promised us the help of his grace ; he 
 hath revealed to us its exceeding riches and unsearchable 
 means. 
 
 Such are the objects of a Revelation from God. In making, 
 however, this statement, we readily allow, if we have not im- 
 plied, that there are certain grand truths in harmony with our 
 nature, which alone can satisfy its insatiable craving, and they 
 are signified generally by our faculties and feelings in our va- 
 rious guesses, desires, and aspirations. But what they are 
 particularly, God, and not man, must show, since they require 
 for their certainty not only a strict inquiry into our own minds, 
 but also a free revelation of God's. When, therefore, by God's 
 goodness and mercy they are discovered to us, we joyfully 
 hail and accept them, on his authority ; we eagerly grasp them 
 as the thing so much wanted, and now at length found ; as 
 changing into a definite and stable hope, an indefinite and un- 
 easy longing. Then we find that all our previous mental 
 wants, and guesses at the objects which should satisfy those 
 wants, have been but false notes, struck here and there around 
 the true. This master-note we were unable, after long-repeated 
 endeavours, to hit of ourselves. But as struck for us by our 
 Heavenly Teacher, our ear instantly recognizes the desired 
 sound, and the harmony, so long sought in vain, has become 
 complete. Now all is peace and content ineffable. For all 
 •the horrid and distracting confusion of means without objects, 
 
16 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 
 
 and of objects without means ; all the sense-bewildering storms 
 of unaccountably opposed good and evil ; all the tempests of 
 pain and sorrow, and roar of the grave, have been rebuked 
 into order, and calmed, at the voice of our almighty, all-wise, 
 all-merciful Master. 
 
 Oh ! Members of the Church of God ! consider the abyss 
 of darkness from which the announcement of a few proposi- 
 tions hath delivered us. Think of our bliss in having for a 
 guide the certainty of Revelation, and not the disputable ques- 
 tions of philosophy. Even the heathen may teach us some- 
 thing here : for if he felt so thankful for the doubtful glimmer of 
 this latter ; if he could perceive a warmth imparted from it 
 amid most heart-chilling troubles, public and private, so as to 
 call it the consoling light of life, how ought we to hail the 
 full blaze of brightness which the former has poured around 
 our paths. Can we think seriously enough, feel deeply 
 enough, be diligent enough, be thankful enough 1 Let us but 
 call to mind those moments when we have assuaged some 
 nighly overwhelming pang of sorrow, by the balm of the hope 
 of the everlasting bliss hereafter ; confronted some peril or 
 terror in joyful resignation into the hands of a just and mer- 
 ciful Father in heaven ; relieved a burdened conscience by 
 confession to a forgiving God : then let us ponder and con- 
 sider what had been the agony, not of the moment, but of 
 days and years, yea, even of a whole life, had we never known 
 those stays and comforts which Revelation has supplied, had 
 this life of sorrow been all, had God's love never been de- 
 clared, had guilt been inexpiable 1 When we talk, amid our 
 sorrows and wrongs, of a just and kind Father in heaven, and 
 of a better world to come, let us remember how and from 
 whom we have learned these things ; call to mind from 
 whom and for how long they were hidden ; consider where 
 are our merits for which we have been thus preferred, the 
 meanest of us in virtue and talent, to the brightest examples 
 of both in ancient days. Can we, dare we, remain indifferent 
 to so great salvation? Be assured that in the moment that 
 we lose the consciousness of God's unsearchable mercy to us 
 here, we are spiritually dead, even as our body is dead when 
 it ceases to be conscious of the light, and the heat, and va- 
 rious fostering influences of the outward world. Our neglect 
 has no excuse ; our responsibility here goes far beyond that 
 which we incur on any other point. Are men deemed ex- 
 cusable, are they not daily condemned by us, who neglect 
 their natural faculties, although, from intimate and habitual 
 
ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 17 
 
 possession, and from the power of improving- them which we 
 feel that we possess, we are too much accustomed to think 
 them our own property, with which we may do as we please 1 
 At all events, we do not ascribe them to any special interfer- 
 ence of God. Can we then, without condemnation, slight the 
 possession of knowledge and power of understanding which 
 God, by clear and special intervention, hath superadded to 
 these faculties, in order to give them point and direction, and 
 contribute to our eternal well-being ? and this, too, when the 
 voice of history has declared, our daily experience has shown, 
 and His holy word has earnestly warned us, that, without this 
 direction, they will be so employed as to be a stumbling- 
 block instead of a guide, and darkness instead of light 1 Men 
 do not, in their sober senses, turn away from the wholesome 
 fruits of the earth and all its bounteous repast, and attempt to 
 nourish their bodies with poisonous herbs, or wood, or stone. 
 And as little claim shall we have to the possession of right 
 reason, if we spurn the thoughts which God hath specially 
 set down as its natural food for our mind's healthy entertain- 
 ment, and seek to batten upon the vanity of mere human learn- 
 ing, and worldly elements. But beyond all predecessors in 
 the church of God, the Christian is inexcusable, if he forget 
 or neglect the blessings of Revelation ; for the unveiling of 
 mysteries, hidden from the beginning of the world, has been 
 reserved for him ; on this youngest and most favoured child 
 the Father hath poured out all the treasures of spiritual know- 
 ledge, emptied them to their irunost cells. He hath not only 
 promised, but performed ; not only told, but exhibited. Jesus 
 Christ, his only begotten Son, being the visible image of Him 
 whom no eye can see, hath expressed and declared him. Jesus 
 hath wept, hath healed, hath blessed, hath forgiven, hath 
 raised from the dead, as being God — hath risen from the dead, 
 as being man. Thus, by a clear exhibition to our senses, by 
 a direct appeal to our heart, and not by mere information to 
 our understanding, we have been assured of the grand points 
 of Revelation, and had their bearings and importance exem- 
 plified before our eyes. 
 
 Two mistakes are committed in the treatment of Revela- 
 tion. Some go in curious investigations beyond it, and en- 
 deavour to fill up chasms ; as, for instance, that intervening 
 between God's foreknowledge and men's freewill, which 
 Revelation having left, no additional aid from reason can ever 
 fill up ; every load of argument which it throws in sinks down 
 C 
 
18 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 
 
 into an unfathomable abyss ; every structure which it attempts 
 to throw across, only projects sufficiently to show the man, 
 who uses its frail stage, the horrible depths below, while he 
 still looks in vain for the other shore. But the number of 
 such persons is inconsiderable, compared with that of such as 
 come short of Revelation, and never was this short-coming so 
 grievously prevalent as in the present times. Through the 
 abundance of information poured around, men's minds are, as 
 it were, in a tropical clime, where labour seems equally need- 
 less and burdensome. The vain presumption of knowledge 
 prevent men from discerning their ignorance, puffing them up 
 with a pride which will not stoop to be informed, and un- 
 nerving them with an indolence which will not strive to learn. 
 Hence, in common with all the rest of their information, their 
 religious belief (if such can be called a bundle of opinions 
 about which the owner is indifferent) is no longer, as in better 
 days, a clear stream pouring from one head, and proceeding 
 to one point. It is a muddy stagnant pool, passively receiv- 
 ing any chance-coming feeder, which the abundance of the 
 rains may cause to flow for an hour or two, turbid with par- 
 ticles of earth. Here, therefore, it has inevitably received a 
 portion of natural knowledge ; there, unconsciously, and from 
 mere chance of proximity, a part of revealed knowledge. 
 And these are promiscuously taken in with utter recklessness 
 of inquiry into the real deficiency of the one, and the real 
 plenitude of the other ; or into the foulness of the one and the 
 purity of the other. To such persons, all opinions on religion 
 are indifferent, and an opinion at all upon religion, whatever 
 it may be, passes w4th them for religion. Meanwhile the 
 deep and fundamental doctrines of the gospel, its unbending 
 and peculiar articles, are treated as dogmas of the schools, 
 not as objects of belief to society; as debateable grounds for 
 the theologian, not a base of principles to the layman. Lax- 
 ity of opinion, in any case, is a wretched imbecility ; in reli- 
 gious matters it is not only this, but also a moral delinquency. 
 In contrast to such conduct, let us be careful to seek out and 
 accept the whole of Revelation, to drink the whole of the cup 
 of salvation which God hath so bounteously put into our 
 hands, nor to rest satisfied with the taste on the lips of that 
 which he designs to pervade the whole body with life and 
 heat. Half of truth is inevitably accompanied with a corres- 
 ponding half of error, so that the whole shall be pernicious. 
 We can yield no obedience to God's will, repose no faith in 
 
ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 19 
 
 his promise, arrive at no correct understanding of his word, if 
 we suffer either indolence, or pride, or any corrupt affection, 
 or worldly occupation, to stop us midway in our course. 
 We must go, if we would be safe, to the full extent of all the 
 knowledge which God hath thought fit to communicate. 
 How else can we discern its real importance 1 Will the 
 sight of a few bricks give us any idea of the house 1 How, 
 without feeling, within ourselves, and of ourselves, its impor- 
 tance, can we give it its due and lofty supremacy over all the 
 other notions and affections of our minds, making it a master 
 amid servants there, and thus employing it in its high and 
 proper office of a ruling principle, in which the whole body of 
 our thoughts and feelings shall find a head, and all grow up 
 unto the fulness of the image of God 1 
 
 A common excuse which- men provide for their laxity of 
 opinion, and utter indifference in forming it, is the variety of 
 creeds adopted in the Christian world. This fact is greedily 
 caught up by all the superficial, by all the indifferent, by 
 every gainsayer of the faith. The Bible, it seems, is an un- 
 sorted heap of dogmas, a vast magazine of the conflicting 
 opinions of innumerable sects ; its spirit is the spirit of free- 
 thinking. I would that these persons would in the first place 
 inquire, and distinguish between creeds, which are the ephe- 
 meral mud-nurtured spawn of our own luxurious and sunny 
 times, — which have enervated the mind and made it at once 
 ignorant and rebellious, indolent and unsteady ; and creeds 
 which have grown up amid blood and persecution, when able 
 and learned men were compelled to concentrate all their intel- 
 lectual powers, and give up all their hearts and minds to that 
 word in whose truth alone they could find rest or happiness. 
 How beautifully harmonious in all essentials are these latter ; 
 what an unity of spirit do they breathe under such manifold 
 varieties of men, of customs, of countries, of circumstances. 
 I would that in the next place they would seek and distin- 
 guish essentials from accidentals. The former must ever be 
 the same, the latter will depend upon times and circumstances. 
 These, rated at their highest, can be nothing more than the 
 limbs of the outward body, which may be absent without any 
 loss of life, without the least detriment to mental and spiritual 
 vigour, though not to comeliness and usefulness. But those, 
 like the parts of the inward body, the lungs, the heart, and 
 the rest of the vitals, are such, that if one be absent or imper- 
 fect, the whole body must perish. The sign of the cross may 
 
20 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 
 
 be retained or rejected ; but the divinity of Christ cannot be 
 asserted, or denied. And woe to him who quotes variety of 
 opinion on the former question, to excuse his indifference to 
 the latter. 
 
 On a wise and ingenuous mind, the sight of such varieties, 
 so far from producing the effect of indifference, will rather 
 impress an earnest desire to seek for himself, and search into 
 the whole truth. Therefore, my brethren, let no indolence 
 dissuade us from this ; let no worldly business or pleasure 
 distract us from this. Let us begin it with a pure, earnest, 
 and humble heart, so that no caprice or predisposing affection 
 shall direct us exclusively to one point, — so that no perverse 
 vanity shall prompt us to lay undue stress on any part, which 
 shall thus overthrow the just balance of the whole, — so that 
 no love of singularity and paradox shall allure us to exhibit 
 the whole under new and unnatural combinations of parts ; 
 nor all of these, the besetting infirmities of our day, conspire 
 to satisfy us that we have learned enough, whensover it shall 
 be our pleasure to leave off. Under a deep and due sense of 
 the awful responsibility to which a Revelation from God, and, 
 above all, that through Christ, subjects us, looking to him 
 and not unto man, let us begin and proceed in our work, 
 reading, marking, learning, and inwardly digesting. Nor let 
 us flatter ourselves, as we discuss each point, that the opinion 
 to which we shall come will not be momentous. A wrong 
 opinion taken up, where God had put in our power a clue to 
 a right, is no infirmity, but a sin, a grievous sin, involving 
 many sins, — as perverseness, unthankfulness, recklessness, 
 want of sincerity, contempt of God's gifts, indifference to his 
 honour and glory. However, therefore, when we come from 
 our chamber to the society of men, we may view with charity, 
 yea, even wdth affection, the entertainers of erroneous doc- 
 trine, yet with the doctrine itself we must make no compro- 
 mise, nor, like the false prophets of old, cry out, " peace, 
 peace," where there can be no peace. A Christian's charity 
 will lead him to think and hope the best of his neighbour, 
 and, above all, he will fear to judge, lest he be judged. But 
 his love of truth, his allegiance to his Saviour, his fear of 
 God, will not allow him for a moment to conceive, that he 
 himself, under all his own peculiar means and opportunities, 
 would not be in a most perilous state, were he to maintain 
 the same opinions, or even to give them the least indulgence, 
 when produced before him. This last is that spurious mis- 
 
ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 21 
 
 named charity, and real ancharitableness, which goes to 
 destroy two souls at once, — both of him in error who might 
 have been convinced, and of himself who bears with that 
 error which he might have convicted. 
 
 We are God's work, God's property, to the very inmost 
 chambers of our mind. Him, therefore, must we serve, 
 his will must we seek and obey ; nor can we act according to 
 his will in the body, without first thinking according to his 
 will in the mind. God is not a man that he should punish 
 the deed alone. We shall think the cognizance of all-seeing 
 God is imperfect as that of purblind man, and shall resemble 
 those weak knaves who reckon indifferent all which the law 
 does not enforce, if we shall imagine that our opinions, how- 
 ever sincerely held, are indifferent before God. To him we 
 must account for the manner in which they have been formed. 
 Man punishes with his law as far as his cognizance can 
 reach. Shall not then the supreme Lawgiver and Governor 
 punish to the extent of his cognizance also-ythat is, to the 
 very bottom of the heart, to the inmost recesses of our un- 
 derstanding 1 What ! shall He whose eye is over all be limit- 
 ed, like man, to the view of the outward shape in which a 
 thought is expressed 1 shall he but stand outside the door to 
 gather the overheard and doubtful signs of the iniquity going 
 on within, having no authority to enter ; or shall he not enter 
 at once, with the scourge of vengeance in his hand? Two 
 grand errors are continually besetting us on this point of fol- 
 lowing diligently up to its full extent a Revelation from God. 
 One is an overweening opinion of the supremacy of our will 
 over our understanding ; the other is an under-rating of the 
 responsibility of our understanding. The former arises from 
 distinguishing the understanding in contrast from the heart ; 
 and because this implicitly obeys the impressions from with- 
 out, while that, at the same time, is independent of them, 
 men are led to conceive that their will, which is thus con- 
 trouled in the one, has its full sway in the other. A grievous 
 and fatal mistake this ; for seldom is it the intellectual will 
 which leads us to the choice of subjects for the understanding; 
 and even this, however independent we may think it, may be 
 enslaved in consequence of an improper choice. For a wrong 
 opinion, once adopted by the understanding, may ever after, 
 by influencing his feelings, and administering to his passions, 
 hold the person captive, so that he shall not command even a 
 wish to be free. Thus the understanding may be blinded, no 
 
 r< *> 
 
22 ON THE OBJECTS OF REVELATION. 
 
 less than the heart may be hardened ; and the one requires 
 for its health, to be fed with right reason, no less than the 
 other, for its soundness, with right affection. Therefore, let 
 us beware how we disqualify ourselves for accepting in purity 
 and fulness the Revelation of God, by tampering with this 
 momentous faculty, by darkening the sight of the mind, by 
 losing all use and exercise of such an instrument. Shall we 
 be excused for incapacity of knowing God's will, when we 
 have wilfully brought that incapacity upon ourselves ] Then 
 will the poltroon, who has purposely maimed his best limb, 
 be excused his inefficiency for service. Gradual and most 
 insidious are the advances of that corruption of the under- 
 standing which blinds it to the knowledge of God. The of- 
 fences and ailments of the body immediately strike and dis- 
 gust the sense, and may thus raise a timely alarm ; but those 
 of the understanding unveil themselves but after a long accu- 
 mulation of disease, and even then the present condition of 
 mind and body, as being at hand, too often bears the blame 
 of the thought, word, or deed. The understanding, from its 
 seeming remoteness from the scene of action, obtains an alibi. 
 And hence it is continually allowed to sin, because it is 
 deemed incapable of sinning. 
 
 The latter error is not less momentous. Most awfully re- 
 sponsible are we for the use and abuse of every faculty of 
 mind, whose integrity may promote, or whose perversion may 
 obstruct, our reception of so inestimable a blessing as a Re- 
 velation from God. All mankind with one voice concur in 
 condemning the man who is heedless of natural religion, as a 
 monster, as a wild beast, whom human society cannot away 
 with. What ought they, if consistent, to think of him who 
 slights revealed religion 1 If the apostle has solemnly de- 
 clared that men were inexcusable in neglecting to derive a 
 knowledge of the Godhead, or in drawing wrong deductions 
 upon the same, from his visible works, are they not much 
 more inexcusable, who, from want of attention, or from cor- 
 rupt passions, or from both, either neglect or recklessly form 
 false notions of his written word, of his expressed will, which 
 is not unseen, and to be gathered by a train of reasoning from 
 things seen, but lies open and visible before their eyes 1 Will 
 he bear with those for a moment, who content themselves 
 with vague and inadequate notions of his nature and relations 
 to man, when he has not, as of old, darkly hinted them through 
 the ordinary operations of Providence, but peculiarly inter- 
 
ox THE OBJECTS OP REVELATION. 23 
 
 fered to blazen them forth by a series of stupendous signs 
 and wonders. He has not abandoned us to cold deductions 
 of reason; he has actually infused distinct and abiding- prin- 
 ciples into Our understandings, yea, and warm and holy af- 
 fections into our hearts. He has given us the whole spiritual 
 man, and the whole spiritual man he claims from us ; not the 
 maimed, not the sickly, not the deformed, but the entire, the 
 vigorous, the upright, in all its members and proportions ; even 
 the new man fashioned after Jesus Christ, whom he hath given 
 us, and not after the w^orld, which he hath bidden us renounce. 
 Assuredly if ever, if any how, if any where, man was without 
 excuse for spiritual ignorance, it is in these latter days, under 
 this prodigality of Revelation, and in this Church of Christ. 
 
 The moral blessings of a Revelation have appeared in the 
 course of our argument; but equally great also are the intel- 
 lectual. In every department of knowledge there is a point 
 of exceeding self-gratulation and delight, as well as of en- 
 joyment of mental power ; and that is, when we have arrived 
 through the detail of the several parts to a full comprehension 
 of the whole. It is faintly imagined by the delight of the 
 traveller, who, having long threaded the different roads, ex- 
 plored the various towns and villages, followed the different 
 streams of a country, surveys them afterwards as one great 
 whole, combined into one view, from the commanding sum- 
 mit of a mountain. He then sees the bearings which had 
 before perplexed his ignorance, and in one glance, and in one 
 moment of time, summons before him what he had hitherto 
 gradually and painfully explored in detail. He feels as if 
 he had risen in his rank of being. 
 
 But in the corresponding case of spiritual knowledge, we 
 do not only survey a delicious land of promise from a spiritual 
 Pisgah, — we do not only from a lofty mountain, in company 
 with our Lord, see all the kingdoms of the spiritual world, 
 and the glory of them, but we have mounted far above the 
 region of doubt and perplexity; we stand upon a rock, and 
 that rock is Christ, — a position immovable, eternal. 
 
 Let us not, therefore, O brethren and partners in the Reve- 
 lation of Christ Jesus, neglect so great salvation. In refusing 
 it, think ye that we shall have refused once only, which is a 
 sin sufficiently great, or twice only, which is a sin more fear- 
 ful still 1 O no ! we shall have refused thrice, and what shall 
 save us then, what further means shall renew us to repentance 
 then 1 For thrice hath God, by his merciful intervention 
 
24 ON THE OBJECTS OP REVELATION. 
 
 with fallen man", delivered his Revelation upon earth. Once 
 in Paradise, again from Mount Sinai, and lastly from Mount 
 Calvary. Happy the forgetful Heathen, happy the rejecting 
 Jew, compared with the heedless Christian. With fear and 
 trembling, then, at our responsibility; with joy and gratitude 
 for the gift ; with faith and hope in his promises, let us ac- 
 cept in heart and mind his blessed word ; reckoning the know- 
 ledge of this the only wisdom, — the practice of its doctrines 
 the only virtue, — the delight of acquiring the graces thence 
 derived the only joy, — the calm and serenity which it in- 
 spires the only peace, — the affections which it moulds and 
 creates the only love, — the reward which it offers the only 
 prize, — the way which it points out the only road to everlasting 
 life. So help us, Almighty God, through Jesus Christ our 
 Lord. 
 
25 
 
 DISSERTATION II. 
 
 ON THE ORIGIN AND CONSTITUTION OF THE CHURCH OF GOD. 
 
 But ye are come unto Mount Stan, and unto the city of the 
 living God, to the heavenly Jeirusalem, and to an innumerable 
 company of angels, to the general assembly of the church 
 of the Jirst-born, which are written in heaven, and to God 
 the judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, 
 and to Jesus, the mediator of the new covenant, and to the 
 blood of sprinkling that speaketh better things than that of 
 Mel.—Ueh. xii. 22—24. 
 
 The term " Church," or " Assembly of the Lord," is taken 
 in several meanings, more or less restricted ; they are, how- 
 ever, all reducible under one general definition, which is, " an 
 assembly of creatures united in the worship of God, accord- 
 ing to his expressed will :" hence from the first moment of 
 the creation of a class of rational beings, to whom God had 
 signified his will, the Church of God commenced ; and at the 
 instant before the fall of man, it comprehended the innume- 
 rable company of angels in heaven, and our first parents upon 
 earth. All were then true and lively members, all possessed 
 with the same spirit : the will of God, being the will of all 
 his creatures, bound them into one perfect society ; flesh was 
 in unity with the spirit, the outward and the inward man 
 were the same, and old and new were terms inapplicable 
 alike to body and to mind. But from that sad hour a woful 
 change began, which broke into fragments all this lovely har- 
 mony : the will of man was no longer the will of God ; ac- 
 cordingly, he was separated from this spiritual society, cut off 
 from the communion of angels. God, however, by his special 
 intervention, again revealing his will to man, under his altered 
 circumstances, the Church was re-established upon earth. 
 But now, since the will and the profession were but too often 
 distinct, it had also its distinction of visible and invisible ; 
 
26 ON THE ORIGIN AND CONSTITUTION OF 
 
 the latter alone being that which maintained an}'- real connex- 
 ion with the spiritual society of heaven, and being united 
 with it, in proportion as the will of the regenerated man 
 approached to the will of the original innocent man : thus the 
 Church of God, under the peculiar title of militant upon earth, 
 commenced a new career. Alas, the sad distinction implied 
 in this title ! She was now set apart from the Church in 
 heaven, and alas, its too pregnant meaning ! for she was now 
 to be militant in a long and almost desperate warfare against 
 sin and death, and the banded powers of hell, made insolent 
 and resolute by their newly achieved victory. From the mo- 
 ment of her dethronement from heaven, she has been clad as 
 a penitent in sackcloth ; for her crown of glory, she has had 
 the sprinkling of dust and ashes on her shorn head ; for robes 
 of peace and righteousness, she has been laden with the 
 armour of battle; for the joyous song of uninterrupted thanks- 
 giving, of the acknowledgment of unbounded bliss from a 
 holy incorrupt heart, she has had a new song put into her 
 mouth, the mournful elegy of confession of sinful unworthi- 
 ness, of acknowledgment of the justice of God's chastise- 
 ment, of deprecation of his wrath and vengeance : instead of 
 innocence she has repentance, instead of enjoyment she is 
 presented with hope. Reduced to this sad change of condi- 
 tion, she is now sojourning with all her sons, as in a pilgrim- 
 age, in these realms, below, wearied and to be wearied 
 continually, almost unto fainting; yea, sometimes brought 
 even unto death's door, awaiting in all patience and hope, 
 that hour when the forfeit of death shall have been paid by 
 all her children at the resurrection of the dead, and the Holy 
 Spirit of God shall once again enter upon undivided, undis- 
 puted possession of our minds and bodies, breathing into 
 them perfect innocence and everlasting life ; and men and 
 angels, once again joined in close communion, shall glorify 
 their Creator, singing the song of redemption in the blood of 
 the Lamb, evermore, Avorld without end. 
 
 In proceeding to consider the Church under this restricted 
 sense, we must revert to the circumstances of the fall. The 
 sum of the sad change wrought in man's moral nature was, 
 that his will was no longer the will of God. He now knew 
 evil, and did evil ; discontent with his present condition, un- 
 controulable appetites, overweening pride and ambition, utter 
 perplexity upon the attributes of God, thenceforward took 
 possession of him. His eyes indeed were opened ; he knew 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 27 
 
 more than he did before ; but not, alas, of heavenly things, but 
 of the powers of hell, the existence of which God had hitherto 
 kept secret from him : once he knew but of angels, but now 
 of devils also : from the spiritual he at once became a natural 
 man. He was now without God in the world, and, notwith- 
 standing his stiff-necked pride, yet his consciousness of the 
 degradation of sin, his sense of irretrievable loss, his assu- 
 rance of everlasting death, (into all which we cannot with 
 any sympathy enter, never having tasted the contrast of 
 innocence and immortality,) these would overwhelm his 
 mind with all the agony of fruitless remorse, with all the 
 hard-hearted recklessness of despair. He was an utter cast- 
 away from God. Such was his state when he was met by 
 God, with the promise that the seed of the woman should 
 bruise the serpent's head. Intending to explain this promise 
 in the next discourse, I shall here take for granted, tliat it 
 implies an eventual restoration to his former bliss and purity by 
 means of a Saviour, who was to rise from among his own seed. 
 Under this view of it, coupled with the circumstances under 
 which it was given, we shall discover the revelation of all 
 those points which we saw, in the last discourse, were neces- 
 sary to be revealed to the natural man, before he could have 
 any apprehension of heavenly things. 
 
 First of all : he of course retained from his previous state, 
 all his knowledge of God as the Creator and sustainer of the 
 universe. 
 
 Secondly : his sentence of death and assurance of restora- 
 tion unveiled the attributes of God, as moral governor of the 
 universe, affording him the most signal instance of all which 
 the world has ever seen, (except in our blessed Lord,) both 
 of his justice and of his mercy. 
 
 Thirdly : the promise of restoration to a being just fallen 
 from a state of immortality, could be nothing else than an 
 assurance of a life to come everlasting, and in the same body, 
 in which he had enjoyed his previous immortality. 
 
 Fourthly : the forgiveness of sins is evidently conveyed 
 here. 
 
 Fifthly : the assistance of God's grace is clearly implied on 
 comparing the circumstances of the whole transaction. 
 
 These communications on the part of God will demand, 
 and call forth, corresponding qualities on the part of man; 
 which will be, repentance, on receiving the inestimable and 
 unexpected forgiveness of God, with resolution of amend- 
 
28 ON THE ORIGIN AND CONSTITUTION OF 
 
 ment. As remorse is the offspring of despair, so is this 
 quality of Hope and Faith, by which alone he could lay hold 
 of that hope, and heartily accept the promise, and maintain 
 his assurance of its performance. 
 
 And since it is by these two qualities that he lays hold of 
 the promise of the bliss to come, he will consider the exhi- 
 bition of them and their fruits, that is, holiness of life, requi- 
 site to its final attainment. But man's relation has been 
 entirely changed by this offer of God, so that if everlasting 
 death was his lot before, it will not be so now : and therefore, 
 inasmuch as his acceptance meets with everlasting happiness, 
 so will his rejection with its co-ordinate, everlasting misery. 
 Thus is deduced a state of future retribution. 
 
 Thus the Church of God, commencing at the fall, contains 
 all the fundamental articles, the maintaining of which, distin- 
 guishing the spiritual from the natural mar, has been required 
 by it, and will be required by it throughout all ages. But 
 this Church was to consist, not of two cotemporary individu- 
 als, but of successive companies of men ; hence ordinances 
 will be required to regulate the pure transmission of its creed. 
 By means of these, man will renew his memory, and God will 
 repeat his assurances. They are — 
 
 First : Prophecy, originating in this promise, and carrying 
 it on through successive ages. 
 
 Secondly : Sacrifice, which is indeed prophecy in a bodily 
 shape, being a vivid representation of what was to come. 
 We encounter this rite as soon as we are introduced to the 
 sons of Adam. 
 
 Thirdly : the observation of the Sabbath, being the only 
 remnant of the Church of Paradise. This would be a stated 
 season for sacrifice, and thus transmit the original revelation. 
 
 Such then are the articles, and such the ordinances com- 
 mon and necessary to the universal Church of all ages, down 
 from Adam until now. But as all flow from the promise of 
 God made to him, and as this promise is renewed from time 
 to time by means of prophecy, expanding ever as the period 
 of fulfilment draws nigh, it is evident that both the creed 
 and the ordinances of the Church will also extend. In this 
 view the duration of the Church is first of all divisible into 
 two great periods, the one comprising the winding up of the 
 fundamental prophecy, the other containing the unravelling 
 of the same : these are termed by the Jewish prophets the 
 former and latter days, — as preceding or succeeding the main 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 29 
 
 point of accomplishment, — and are as distinct as the dark 
 and enlightened hemispheres of our globe. But the former 
 period admits of a sub-division, made by the solemn renewal 
 of the original promise, by the special interference of God 
 in covenant with Abraham and his children, which was 
 finally sealed on Mount Sinai. Hence there are altogether 
 three periods, essentially distinct from each other, in which 
 the Church is respectively denominated the Patriarchal, the 
 Jewish, and the Christian. As the fall of man begins the first, 
 and his restoration opens the third, the second commences 
 with an intermediate state of constraint and tutelage, as of 
 one who had abused the range and liberty which had been 
 allowed him, and required strong discipline before he was 
 again set free to enjoy the full liberty of the Gospel. In the 
 first, man is admitted to the light of spiritual things, but 
 they are faint and distant. In the second, he contemplates 
 them through the medium of gross and sensible representa- 
 tions ; in the third, this intervening veil is removed, and he 
 sees them no longer distant, but face to face : to trace the 
 successive development of the creed and constitution of the 
 Church through the several stages, is the object of this in- 
 vestigation. But the present discourse will be confined to 
 considering the Church as a society. The Church of God 
 being an assembly of men united in the worship of God 
 according to his revealed will, unity is the essential property 
 of this Church ; and it is evident that this unity must be both 
 spiritual and bodily. We will first examine the spiritual. 
 
 The spiritual unity is twofold : a number of beings are con- 
 sidered as one, both in respect to community of nature, and to 
 the common instrument producing such community ; in other 
 words, it is both essential and instrumental. 
 
 Now all mankind are essentially one by community of nature, 
 derived from their general head and representative, the first 
 man, Adam. But what a representative have we here ] how 
 can we, united under such a head, stand up before God for a 
 moment, except for condemnation and death I For this Adam, 
 in whom all mankind find unity, both clean and unclean, be- 
 liever and unbeliever, must be the fallen un generated Adam, 
 the Adam of sin and death ; from whom deriving our unho- 
 liness, we are all corrupt, all degraded, all condemned, all 
 denied access to God, cast away from the light of his presence, 
 cut off from the comfort of his communion. If, therefore, we 
 have recourse to our common father, it must be the spiritual 
 D 
 
30 ON THE ORIGIN AND CONSTITUTION OF 
 
 Adam, the son of pardon and promise, gathered under whom 
 we may approach God as justified and blessed. But neither 
 is this sufficient. Believers are not thus summed up under 
 one head. The Jew, who has inherited from Abraham a co- 
 venant so much more bounteous, will scarcely forego so great 
 advantages to range himself by the side of those who are 
 gathered under the more scanty privileges of Adam. The 
 Christian, who has derived from his Saviour spiritual riches 
 which had been hidden from mankind from the foundation of 
 the world, will scarcely divest himself of these to place himself 
 under Abraham as head, and still less under Adam. In this 
 view, therefore, mankind, with respect to their means of ap- 
 pearing before God as one body, that is, as members of his 
 Church, would be separated under three heads. We must go 
 deeper then for our principle of unity. Now, altliough the 
 person in whom each covenant is made be different in the 
 above cases, the person who is the object of the promise of 
 each covenant is all along the same ; in him both Adam and 
 Abraham, with all their children, have one and the same in- 
 terest ; in him, their Redeemer, all stand redeemed, and there- 
 fore holy and acceptable before God. Under the shelter of 
 His wing of healing, who will gather us even as a hen 
 gathereth her young chickens, we are all glad to crowd. Our 
 essential unity then consists in all being one, under and in 
 Christ Jesus, who is the second Adam, in whom we are, by 
 regeneration, all one in our spiritual essence unto everlasting 
 life and bliss ; even as, by generation, we are all one in our 
 natural essence in the first Adam, unto condemnation and 
 death. 
 
 But how are all believers from the foundation of the world, 
 thus one in Christ Jesus 1 This will immediately appear 
 from the consideration of the instrumental unity. 
 
 Our minds must for this purpose have in common some 
 grand moving principle, which shall direct them all to one 
 end, and fix them all upon one object. It is obvious, that 
 none of the principles of this world will answer the purpose, 
 for, were there no other objection, they all stop short at dif- 
 ferent stages in different minds. But neither will all the prin- 
 ciples of the next world, love of God for instance. But it 
 must be that principle to which all the rest are subordinate, 
 which awakes them all, and gives all their final object. And 
 this is faith in the Redeemer, who is the object of all promise ; 
 by this our spirits are all brought into unison : through this 
 
THE CHURCH OP GOD. 31 
 
 we all love, bless, and adore God, with the same love for the 
 same blessing : by this we all join in laying hold of his 
 gracious promises : by this we all become of one mind, and 
 are also of one mind with Christ Jesus, and we are thus joined 
 to our spiritual head as a well compacted body. By faith in 
 Christ Jesus, says the apostle, (Gal. iii. 26,) we are all the 
 children of God ; all natural distinctions are done away ; mas- 
 ter and slave, Jew and Heathen, male and female, are all one 
 in him. By this are united men of the most distant ages and 
 countries ; Adam with his latest descendant ; the Patriarch 
 who saw Christ in spirit, with the Apostle who saw him in the 
 flesh ; the Jew who looked forward to his coming, with the 
 Christian who looks backward upon it ; all are brethren of 
 one another, and of him who is not ashamed to call us 
 brethren. And however the view which faith upholds to 
 the eyes of distant generations may vary in growing clear- 
 ness and extent, still it is essentially the same, directed on 
 to the same object, awakening the same hopes, and infusing 
 the same holy principles. 
 
 But, on account of the variety just mentioned, which will 
 aifect its mode of expression, and its intermediate objects, we 
 must be careful to distinguish between the fundamental arti- 
 cles of faith which unite men of all periods, and those which 
 unite men of any particular period only. The narrow extent 
 of belief required in one stage of the Church, would be infi- 
 delity in a later stage, to which revelation had come down 
 cleared and amplified. Thus, while the faith is essentially 
 the same, the notions of the character of the Redeemer, and the 
 objects conveyed to the mind by the vehicles of prophecy and 
 sacrifice, will differ both in clearness and number. The Re- 
 deemer may be expected to arise at some undetermined pe- 
 riod from amidst the great body of mankind, and with faint 
 notions of his attributes, as by the Patriarch : or may be 
 looked for from the line of David, within a specified period, 
 and with no obscure prospect of the manner in which he was 
 to fulfil his high ofiice, as by the spiritual Jew : or may be 
 beheld as already come, with a clear and complete knowledge 
 of his character and office, as by the Christian. Again ; pro- 
 phecy may limit the view to one grand spiritual object in 
 prospect, as it did to the Patriarch : or take in a vast field of 
 preparatory and collateral events, as in the case of the Jew : 
 or have been accomplished in the grand end expected by 
 them, and run on still further into the regions of time, with 
 
32 ON THE ORIGIN AND CONSTITUTION OP 
 
 a long' train of events, directed on to the consummation of all 
 thing's, as it does to the Christian. Sacrifice may be offered 
 by each person, at any place, as by the Patriarch : or may be 
 limited to persons, place, and time, as with the Jew : and, as 
 in both cases, may dimly pre-figure, though in the latter case 
 by numerous and pointed types, what was to come : or, its 
 types having been realized, it may give way to a rite com- 
 memorative of its realization, as with the Christian. The 
 one great day in seven may be consecrated to the memory of 
 the creation, as by the Patriarch : or may in addition com- 
 memorate a signal temporal deliverance, and rest from labour, 
 as with the Jew : or may be set apart, changed to another 
 day, for the celebration of the resurrection of our Lord, 
 whereby was wrought a spiritual creation, a spiritual deliver- 
 ance, a spiritual rest from labour, as with the Christian. In 
 all these cases the main object of faith is the same. Yet did 
 the Christian embrace no more objects in his belief than the 
 Jew, nor the Jew than the Patriarch, they would each be 
 guilty of apostacy. But the faith which unites men of one 
 particular period must evidently be the same ; must have the 
 same clearness, the same number of objects, in short the 
 same articles, the quantity of revelation being precisely the 
 same; hence, while unity of faith cements the Church of all 
 ages, unity of doctrine cements the Churches of the same 
 age. And this unity is wrought by the word of God, which, 
 being originally given by the Holy Spirit, is also maintained 
 in all purity by the same, in the heart of the earnest hearer, 
 whom the same Spirit hath brought to entertain it. Thus 
 this blessed agent effects in the moral world an operation 
 similar to that which he performed in the natural, brooding 
 on the surface of the abyss of wild and stormy human pas- 
 sions, over the darkness of wayward imaginations, compel- 
 ling by his energy into order and form the chaotic elements. 
 He thus helpeth our infirmities, and, supplying quickness 
 where the faculties are dull, candour where the mind is per- 
 verse, patience where it is hasty, humility where it is vain, 
 docility where it is headstrong, purity where it is foul ; re- 
 moving thus the grand wall of partition between man and 
 the truth, filling his heart with the spirit of Christ, he brings 
 all men to be of one mind in Jesus Christ, so that all may be 
 built up together into an habitation of God through the Spirit. 
 Being, therefore, one in Christ, and obtaining that union 
 through faith in Christ, the true members of his Church 
 
THE CHURCH OP GOD. 33 
 
 form the company of the saints in light, are all redeemed, all 
 sanctified, all glorified. In him they have a representative 
 who can not only stand before the Father who dwelleth in 
 unapproachable light, but is also one with him ; thus have 
 they sure access to God ; and to him as its head, its king, its 
 bridegroom, its shepherd, the Church as his body, his king- 
 dom, his spouse, his flock, points all her operations. In him, 
 preordained for the salvation of man before the foundations 
 of the world, all that has been established in her since the 
 world began, and will be established to the end of time, finds 
 unity of purpose. Her prayers, her prophecies, her sacrifices, 
 her oblations and thanksgivings, are all pointed towards him : 
 her consolations and her censures are in his name ; her tribu- 
 lations are endured for his sake; her joys and triumphs are 
 in his victory ; and, finally, his are all her members, in heart 
 and mind, word and deed, in the life present and in the life to 
 come. Such is the spiritual unity of the Church of God ; to 
 this, as an accident to substance, as body to soul, appertains 
 the bodily unity, which we have now to consider. 
 
 As the visible Church is a society of men, to whose eyes 
 spirit is indiscernible except by effects understood in the 
 body, they obviously require for spiritual unity an assurance 
 from signs in the body, and those signs will be either conven- 
 tional or necessary ; the former are passive forms to which 
 we are obliged to have recourse in order to regulate place 
 and time and mode of worship, and afford a mutual express- 
 ion of our minds ; the latter are active qualities, exhibited 
 in our moral conduct, being the fruits of the spirit, and there- 
 fore testifying to our neighbour every hour, by word or deed, 
 to our being of the fellowship of the company of saints. 
 There can be no comparison between the respective value of 
 these two classes of signs. Is it not then most humiliating 
 to us, that all the anxieties of the great body of the members 
 of the visible Church, should have been directed to the for- 
 mer, which are in themselves quite indifferent, which give 
 no proof of the sincerity of the inward man ; and that they 
 should have overlooked the latter, which are of vital interest, 
 and cannot (at least for any length of time) be counterfeited 1 
 
 With regard to the first, since our consent in their use is 
 intended to designate the consent of our minds before God, 
 and satisfy one another that we present ourselves before him, 
 bound together in the bonds of faith, hope, and charity, it is 
 evident that their foundation must lie in mutual charity ; yet 
 D 2 
 
34 ON THE ORIGIN AND CONSTITUTION OP 
 
 this, alas! is the very quality which of all others has been 
 most neglected in the case of these outward forms, both by 
 the imposer of them, and by the imposed. It is indeed a 
 case of exceeding delicacy to draw every possible cord of 
 love and unity, so as to bring our spirits into the most com- 
 plete concord, and at the same time to beware lest, by draw- 
 ing too many and too tightly, the outward signs may express 
 much more than the inward substance can correspond to. 
 With regard to the former of these cases, I will venture to 
 suggest a distinction which seems to have been but little at- 
 tended to. A reformed church stands in very peculiar cir- 
 cumstances : the very increase of the primitive church, both 
 as it spread among nations, and shot upward into the higher 
 ranks of society, would call for some addition of forms and 
 ordinances ; and these have been conveyed into every quarter 
 of the world, and there continue, notwithstanding that the 
 purity of doctrine which accompanied them has long been 
 most wofuUy defiled. Any one of these corrupt Churches 
 then which sought to return to her ancient purity of faith, 
 and, in consonance with that also, to remodel her system of 
 rites and discipline, will not narrow her views to the nation 
 wherein is her dwelling-place ; but equally long-sighted and 
 long-suffering, combining the wisdom of the serpent with the 
 gentleness of the dove, she will look also to her sister 
 Churches still benighted, and retain, w^ere it but for charity's 
 sake, those rites and ordinances w^hich they received together 
 with purity of faith. She thus avoids giving a needless 
 shock to the learned and candid members of those churches, 
 (and indeed, also of her own,) and keeps open a door to per- 
 fect union, as soon as ever they shall divest themselves of 
 hurtful or needless superfluities. And if such Church be that 
 of a nation, to which God hath committed exceeding power 
 and influence among mankind, still more is she bound in 
 charity to pursue this conduct, in proportion to the conspicu- 
 ous station she must necessarily hold. All this should be 
 diligently kept in view by her own members, w^ho should 
 bear in mind that things which seem, at best, indifferent, 
 when she is considered individually, are any thing but indif- 
 ferent when she is regarded as a part of the great whole of 
 the visible Church of Christ. With this comprehensive 
 charity, with this patient looking forward to a most desirable 
 end, acted the reformers of our church ; nor have the fortunes 
 of our nation been such as to justify us in contracting either 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. o5 
 
 one or the other. But, on the other hand, in the latter of 
 these cases, these signs will have an undue estimation, will 
 encumber and hide spirit with body, essence with matter ; an 
 humble means will be mistaken for a glorious end ; agree- 
 ment in lifeless forms will be substituted for agreement in 
 purity of life, resulting from agreement in faith ; and thus 
 the imposer will puttogether in his visible communion, nothing 
 better than a deformed lifeless corpse, presenting the stillness 
 of death, not the calmness of life ; the union of mere adja- 
 cent masses of flesh, not the body instinct in every part with 
 spirit, and, instead of bringing the bonds of the Church, 
 which are faith, hope, and charity, upon the world, will 
 bring the bonds of the world, w^hich are lust and power, upon 
 the Church. Let us, however, in guarding against a system 
 which presses all points, beware also of that which presses 
 none ; while we shrink from a superstitious reverence for 
 bodily form, avoid also an affectation of spirituality beyond 
 the limits of our bodily nature ; while we shake off the yoke 
 thrown on our necks by lust of power, spurn also that easy 
 Epicurean accommodation which results from indifference to 
 good, and connivance at evil ; for if the one be destructive of 
 charity by the compulsion to which it resorts, so is the other 
 equally, by denying its only source, a pure and humble faith. 
 With regard to the second class, they make a separation 
 between those whom the former would keep united. These 
 are they which distinguish the member of the invisible 
 Church, while the former mark but the member of the visible. 
 These proceed from the spirit, and so appear in the flesh, and 
 are therefore continual and abiding in it, like the signs of 
 the inward soul, which never quit the living body ; while the 
 others are mere outward affections, which may occasionally 
 be absent, and may be present even in a dead body. These 
 have ever set apart the member of the society of God's 
 Church from the member of the society of this world ; by 
 these was Abel set apart from Cain, Shem from Ham, the 
 true Israelite from the false Israelite, the true Christian from 
 the false Christian; these signify to believers that their 
 spirits are in unity by possession of the same Holy Spirit, 
 poured into their hearts ; these give us confidence in each 
 other, connect our mutual actions, supply the means of our 
 mutual intercourse. As the virtues in the society of the 
 world, such are these graces in that of the Church. Now 
 such signs must manifestly become more numerous as Reve- 
 
36 ON THE ORIGIN AND CONSTITUTION OP 
 
 lation expands ; for it must thus ^adually supply more and 
 more principles on which we must act; it must thus take in 
 continually a greater number of the incidents of daily life; 
 until, in its full expansion under Christ, it hath swept into its 
 net the whole of our conversation on earth, taken us captive 
 in soul and body, and brought into subjection the entire man, 
 in all his thoughts and movements. In this our last stage of 
 the church, so hath the gap widened between it and the world, 
 that their societies are removed as far asunder as the rich 
 man and Lazarus : yea, farther ; they are as distinct as their 
 respective heads, as the fallen natural man and he who hath 
 blended God and man in one person. Our light is now no 
 longer faintly reflected from types, no longer dimly struggles 
 through the veil of prophecy, falling but obscurely here and 
 there upon our practice. It is poured out uppn it in a full 
 bright stream from the fountain of life itself, so that not a 
 point is left unilluminated. Hence every act of ours will 
 manifest this heavenly source, and become a sign. And 
 these signs we must be continually exhibiting, as children 
 of light, to each other, assuring each other of our fellow- 
 feeling, and thus bringing our spirits into union, as members 
 under their great head. What shall we think now of those 
 who assert that a man's religion is a mere affair between 
 himself and his Maker 1 Is not this a most deplorable error ; 
 is it less than a virtiial denial of Christ ] A man cannot 
 live and give no signs of life. But we, whenever we meet 
 with a brother, must be ready with our sign ; and where two 
 or three are met together, not for prayer alone, they must so 
 conduct themselves as if their common head w^ere among 
 them. They will refrain from evil words, and address them- 
 selves to good in conversation ; they will maintain good faith 
 in mutual dealing, and show themselves possessed by the 
 same spirit, and to be one in the same head and lord, Jesus 
 Christ. Our Saviour has expressed by many lively parables, 
 his intimate union with the society over which he presides. 
 He has termed himself the bridegroom. This body, then, to 
 which he has been married, must be one with him ; every 
 member also of it one with him ; must have one course of 
 action, one mind, one interest, one end ; must love and hate, 
 cherish and reject, hope and fear, the same thing. He has 
 called himself the vine, of which himself is the main tnmk, 
 his followers the branches. Means he not here that they are 
 all parts and portions of himself; that from him they derive. 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 37 
 
 as branches from the trunk, their sap, draw all their stream 
 of spiritual nourishment, their very inmost and vital principle 
 of thoug-ht, word and deed, and to him, in the duly appointed 
 season, by various channels of works of love to fellow 
 branches, return it ; that from him is all their bloom and 
 beauty of holiness, their leaves, their flower, and their fruit? 
 And does he not lead us to conclude from these two simili- 
 tudes, that whoever is not intimately united with him, is di- 
 vorced, according to the one, as being unfaithful, cut off, ac- 
 cording to the other, as being unsound 1 Moreover, he is the 
 shepherd, of whom, if one of the flock lose sight, he is lost 
 in the wilderness : he is the way, from which whoever turns 
 aside loses the only road to everlasting life : he is the door, 
 through which alone is the entrance into the city of eternal 
 joy. If thus intimate be our union with Christ; if thus our 
 spirit, in all its thoughts and designs, must conspire with his 
 spirit; if thus every act of our life must be referable to our 
 union with him, and in him with one another, how can we 
 possibly, unless we be indeed none of his, cease from exhib- 
 iting to our neighbours, from root through stem to topmost 
 branch, the proofs of the indwelling sap of life, the signs 
 and marks of our profession? Such is the Church of God, 
 gathered from all ages and nations under one head, informed 
 by one spirit, united in faith and works, in substance and 
 sign, holy, entire, without rent, or spot, or wrinkle. 
 
 But now, perhaps, it may be asked of me, where is this 
 Church of Christ? of the first class of signs of its existence 
 we see indeed enough, and too often much more than enough. 
 But these, it is confessed, may exist in the body after the 
 spirit hath fled. But where is the other class of signs, which 
 alone can assure us of its having life among us 1 On the 
 moment of raising our heads from the perusal of this descrip- 
 tion, and looking at the broad Christian world before us, we 
 see nothing corresponding. On the contrary, we behold its 
 surface like the plan of a city which has been razed by war, 
 or overthrown by a hurricane, broken up into shapeless de- 
 tached heaps ; we see its fair region here darkened with de- 
 basing superstition, there involved in the still deeper gloom 
 of demoralizing infidelity. We see no trace of unity under a 
 common head, but counsels equally devoid of holiness and of 
 unity of purpose, cold-blooded interest and hot-blooded pas- 
 sion, maintaining their jar of unceasing discord. So that we 
 are at a loss how to refute from facts the assertion of the free- 
 
38 ON THE ORIGIN AND CONSTITUTION OP 
 
 thinker, who maintains that religion has nothing to do between 
 man and man, and considers it as nothing more than a busi- 
 ness between him and his Maker ; that is, an abstracted con- 
 templation. Again, if we turn our eyes back upon the records 
 of the past, we are still surveying the same sad picture, hear- 
 ing the same doleful tragedy, which palls by a repetition of 
 the same heart-rending scenes, of the same mournful accents, 
 of the same wretched catastrophe. We must repeat, there- 
 fore, our question, " Where is this Church of Christ]" 
 
 Brethren, the question is indeed humiliating ; it may well 
 indeed put us to shame, but it need not put us to silence. It 
 may well put us to shame, for what can be a greater reproach 
 upon us than that our abuse of God's most precious gift should 
 bring doubts upon the reality of the gift itself. But it will 
 not put us to silence, for it is founded upon a superficial view 
 and shallow reflection. We will even help the objector with 
 his charges. We will remind him that at the time of the 
 flood this Church had dwindled dowri to a single family ; that 
 again it increased, but again to dwindle, like a precious plant 
 in a foreign unkindly soil : that, even when the children of 
 Abraham darkened with their numbers the plenteous land of 
 God's accomplished promise, there were left but seven thou- 
 sand who had not bowed the knee to Baal : that the general 
 aspect of Christendom at this day is mournful and perplexing. 
 What then '? God is just, and man is unjust ; God hath offered, 
 but man hath rejected ; God hath given, but man hath abused ; 
 so that were not a vestige of the Church to be traced, God is 
 justified. But neither has man, by God's grace, been so en- 
 tirely wanting. There are signs, many and manifest, of 
 Christ's true Church dwelling among us, which occur to all 
 who Avill not close their eyes, if these objectors will but look 
 for the Church militant, and not for the Church triumphant. 
 The former, even in the most painfully selected body of its 
 holiest members, must ever disclose much human infirmity ; 
 how were it otherwise militant? Fallen man, however re- 
 generated, can never exemplify, in this life, a perfect model 
 of a son of God ; he is ever attaining, but never having at- 
 tained; how then shall a body be perfect, each of whose 
 members is imperfect 1 The signs, therefore, exhibited by a 
 perseverance in the struggle to attain, are they which mark 
 tlie true member of the Church of Christ, and assure its ex- 
 istence among us. And if such seem so very rare, it is partly 
 owing to the sort of company by which the objector is likely 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 39 
 
 to be surrounded, and partly also to the very unobtrusiveness 
 of ^ood men. The straws and the feathers keep the surface 
 of the water, the pearls and gems are in the depths below ; 
 the vices and crimes of the children of this w^orld attract the 
 eyes and fill the mouth of the world ; holiness is theirs who 
 are not of this world, and are, therefore, overlooked by it, and 
 unrecorded. But supposing the number of those who exhibit 
 the required signs to be less than it really is, what scandal 
 and stone of offence would this be to him who has been told 
 from the mouth of the great Head himself, that his real 
 Church upon earth shall ever be a remnant until the fulness 
 of the time come ; that many are called, but few are chosen ; 
 who feels assured that, wherever two or three are met to join 
 their spirits in his name, there his true Church is brightly visi- 
 ble, there the glory of the Lord, as in his temple, is shining, 
 and never shall be done away. 
 
 But however full of offence the appearance presented by 
 God's church upon earth may be to the fool, it is overflowing 
 with instruction to the wise. It humbles him indeed, but it 
 is in order to exalt him ; it warns him, but in the same mo- 
 ment it cheers him. For he there sees the body of his own 
 infirmities most painfully reflected and multiplied, as through 
 glass, into innumerable images. He is led from this view 
 to examine with a more severe probe, and with a more inti- 
 mate knowledge of human failings, his own bosom ; he de- 
 tects there weaknesses and elements of weaknesses of which 
 he was formerly unsuspicious. He traces a connexion be- 
 tween his own failings and the disgrace of that society which 
 ought to be holy, even as its head is holy. Therefore he 
 will more than ever deplore his own sinfulness, which has 
 contributed its share to the general shame ; he will mourn that 
 the spirit of men should thus be ever at war with the spirit of 
 God, and will humble himself even to the dust. But, at the 
 same time, in a consciousness of spiritual improvement, 
 through God's grace, he will see its honour and glory ; there 
 is holiness in it ; and every step which he makes in advance 
 supplies him with a joyful earnest of those blessed days, 
 when, like a faithful spouse of Christ, the Church shall put 
 on her crown of pure gold, and stand in her white raiment all 
 glorious, without spot or wrinkle. At every point of pro- 
 gress he has a joyful earnest, assuring him that God's pro- 
 mises are accomplishing, though not yet accomplished ; that 
 the serpent's head hath been bruised individually and poten- 
 
40 ON THE ORIGIN xVND CONSTITUTION OF 
 
 tially, though not generally and actually : that the desire of 
 nations hath been offered to all, although not received by all : 
 the conqueror of sin and death has been set upon his throne, 
 although all his enemies be not as yet put underneath his 
 footstool. Thus with his growth in spirit grows also in his 
 mind the beauty of the holiness of the Church of God, and 
 however at variance be its model as presented to his eye of 
 spirit, with the form which meets his eye of flesh; however 
 squalid may appear the one after the glorious brightness of 
 the other, he is neither offended, nor does he despair. He 
 has a witness within him which bids him look onward in pa- 
 tience and unshaken faith to the end ; he feels in his bosom 
 the elements of the bliss which shall accompany the final 
 union of the two, and they shall once again be blended, never 
 by a second fall to be rent asunder. For then shall the reign 
 of Satan have been accomplished, then shall his deceits and 
 wiles have been overcome, then shall the partition-wall of 
 sin and delusion be broken down, and all hearts shall be open, 
 all desires known. Then all the children of God being of 
 one mind, possessed with one and the same spirit, united in 
 every thought and turn of thought, filled with the love of the 
 Father, abounding in the grace of the Son, and enjoying the 
 fellowship of the Holy Ghost, shall form the congregation 
 of the first-born, of the spirits of just men made perfect, the 
 city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, the company 
 of innumerable angels. 
 
 Brethren, we may say with the beloved apostle, " it is the 
 last time;" perils and trials are at hand, and the arm of the 
 heaven-commissioned thresher seems already uplifted, in 
 order to descend with a blow^ which shall separate the chaff 
 and the wheat. But no gloominess of times, no overflow- 
 ings of ungodliness dismay us ; rather more abundant be our 
 hope, more unshaken our faith, for the time of our redemption 
 draweth nigh. God's chastisement must try his children, 
 and usher in the joyfulness of the inheritance which shall be 
 theirs who abide the trial ; therefore let us cast aside all mis- 
 giving, attach ourselves to all w^ell-doing, and, above all, 
 exercise that charity, which, in trying times, is so grievously 
 wounded. For in proportion as, under the influence of God's 
 holy Spirit, we can agree with our neighbour in thought, 
 word, and deed, in the same do we realize upon earth tbe 
 Church of God ; in the same do we approach to the blissful- 
 ness of his Church in heaven; in the same do we grow up 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 41 
 
 to the standard of fellow-citizens of the saints, of members 
 of the household of God. All this worketh that faith which 
 we found on the merits of our Redeemer ; that hope of ever- 
 lasting life which we cherish in him who rose from the dead ; 
 and that charity with which we love one another, because he 
 first loved us. Such faith, such hope, such charity, may he 
 give unto us, and maintain in us by his Spirit, that we may 
 be all one in Christ, who is one with the Father. 
 
 E 
 
43 
 
 DISSERTATION III. 
 
 ON PROPHECY. 
 
 / wait for the Lord, my soul cloth wait, atid in his word do I 
 hope. — Psalm cxxx. 5. 
 
 The Word of God is not like the word of man, and for esti- 
 mating the former we shall obtain but little aid from any 
 consideration of the latter. They both communicate certain 
 ideas to men, and there ends their similitude ; in all other 
 respects our estimate would be more safely formed according 
 to the rule of contraries. For as this latter goes forth too 
 often without sense or design, or at best, and however pre- 
 meditated, to a temporary purpose, that proceeds from God's 
 eternal immutable counsel, and passes on to eternity. This 
 is essentially extinct from the moment in which it has been 
 uttered, and when we say it lives, (as in the memory of man,) 
 we are fully aware that we are using a figure which is lite- 
 rally inapplicable. All it can do is, like some worthless 
 insects, to give birth to a fact, and then die as it were in the 
 labour. But the word of God liveth for ever: it w^aits for no 
 agent, and the fact to which it gives birth depends upon it, 
 and upon it alone, for the continuance of the principle of life : 
 by it were the worlds created, and by it they are sustained ; 
 by it empires rise and fall in their appointed seasons ; in it 
 all which goes before is comprehended, and held in union 
 with all which goes after, and eternity is connected with 
 eternity. The word of man taken into the heart will too 
 often defile and overcloud the soul ; the word of God received 
 there is the only principle of holiness, and is a lantern to the 
 feet. The word of man is often bitter ; the word of God is 
 sweet to the taste, ye", sweeter than honey to the mouth. 
 The word of man is too often weak, powerless, blunt, and 
 unpointed, unable to penetrate beyond the ear, and reach the 
 
ON PROPHECY. ' 43 
 
 mind. But the word of God is quick and powerful, and 
 sharper than any two-edg-ed sword, piercing even to the 
 dividing asunder of soul and spirit, of the joints and marrow, 
 and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. 
 The word of man is too often, as proceeding from an unholy 
 bosom, faithless ; and as coming from one who has no 
 power over fortune, never sure. But the word of God is 
 true, and sure altogether. Therefore it is, as the Psalmist says, 
 the cause of certain hope to every mind in which it is received. 
 
 The Word of God, thus eternal, steadfast, holy, powerful, 
 issued forth ever to the same merciful end of man's redemp- 
 tion, may be considered as having a two-fold operation on 
 his mind. It will either hold forward continually to view 
 the glorious end of that redemption, referring him by the 
 way, as time proceeds, to certain intermediate events to come 
 at certain destined periods as its harbingers, and thus main- 
 taining in him a sure and certain hope in the end, and by 
 what has been fulfilled, giving a pledge of that which 
 remains to be fulfilled : or it will give him instructions how 
 to conduct himself, so that he might be a partaker in the 
 blessedness of that end, exalting his thoughts, chastening his 
 affections, and directing his understanding ; thus it wnll be 
 either prophetical or doctrinal. It is intended to discuss it 
 now under the first of these two heads. 
 
 The Word of God, as far as the Church which we are 
 considering is immediately concerned, first came to Adam 
 upon his fall ; and it could come to him but for two ends, 
 namely, either to finally pronounce upon him the sentence of 
 death, with which he had been previously threatened, or to 
 modify that sentence according to God's good pleasure. 
 The first is plainly implied in the words " dust thou art, and 
 unto dust thou shalt return." But the death expected by 
 Adam must have been eternal death, and this admits of a 
 modification by being changed into temporary; this latter 
 being actually the case, the only passage in which we have to 
 seek it is in that promise, " that the seed of the woman should 
 bruise the serpent's head ;" which, though addressed to the 
 serpent, j-^et, as being solemnly recorded in God's written 
 word, we cannot but regard as a promise made to all man- 
 kind in the presence of Adam. Considering the solemn 
 occasion on which it was made, when the head of all man- 
 kind, the chief and representative of millions of living souls, 
 was standing arraigned for judgment upon himself and his pos- 
 
44 ON PROPHECY. 
 
 terity, when he was tortured with agonies of giiilt and despair, 
 which w ere not only new to him, not only in deepest contrast 
 to his former innocence and hliss, hut also must have for 
 these reasons far exceeded any pangs undergone hy the most 
 wretched of his posterity, — surely it is impossible to under- 
 stand its expressions literally; surely thus they would be 
 unworthy of the occasion, and appear to Adam a cruel banter, 
 a mockery of his depth of woe. We are driven therefore to a 
 spiritual sense, and in this we shall find the modification sought. 
 Before the foundation of the world Jesus Christ was fore- 
 ordained for the salvation of man. Every thing, therefore, 
 communicated by God to man, must terminate in him. 
 Can we imagine then that the very first intervention of God 
 with man, after he fell into the need of salvation, and at a 
 moment when beyond any other he must have felt that need, at 
 a moment when beyond any other he must have given himself 
 up to utter recklessness of despair, that this should have 
 passed oflf without a hint of so great consolation, and that he, 
 the head of mankind, should be deprived of that comfort 
 which has been so freely imparted to his posterity 1 Without 
 some communication of this kind, how could religion either 
 have begun or maintained itself upon earth ; what reason 
 would God have to complain of the wickedness of man at 
 the time of the flood, and how could such characters as Abel, 
 Enoch, and Noah have ever existed] Surely God's signal 
 vengeance on that occasion argues the abuse of something 
 imparted since the fall ; and the existence of such characters 
 argues the use of something communicated since that hour of 
 hopelessness. Why, too, should God have maintained 
 Adam a single moment upon earth after the pronouncing of 
 his sentence, if there were nothing further 1 He could have 
 had no delight in the inefiable misery of his creature pro- 
 longed for such a period ! We cannot, therefore, suppose 
 Adam to have been left without that consolation, which we 
 ourselves, who have never experienced the horrid conscious- 
 ness of the contrast of our state with perfect innocence and 
 bliss, yet find absolutely necessary to our patient endurance 
 of existence. Neither can we suppose so important a 
 communication on so important an occasion, to have been 
 omitted by Holy Writ. If the sentence has been recorded 
 by which we were all, in our general head and representative, 
 condemned to death, surely it would not neglect to notice the 
 promise by which, in the same general head and representa- 
 
ON PROPHECY. 45 
 
 live, we were all restored to life. But if it be not implied in 
 this passag-e, it is nowhere. It must be, therefore, implied 
 in this passage. 
 
 The sense, therefore, in which Adam understood it, would 
 be this — that one should hereafter arise from his seed, who 
 should triumph over the power of Satan, to which he himself 
 had yielded : that he was himself, with all his posterity, to 
 share the fruits of this victory (otherwise what consolation 
 had it been 1) — and as his own defeat wrought his fall, so the 
 triumph of that promised one would correspondingly work 
 his restoration 1 
 
 That such a sense but obscurely glimmers through the ex- 
 press words to our mental sight, needs form no great diffi- 
 culty, if we will only consider the peculiar circumstances of 
 Adam. The great obscurity to us lies in the personification 
 of the evil spirit by the serpent. Here it is easy to conceive 
 that he would have no difficulty, so differently circumstanced 
 was he who had gone through the wiiole transaction as a 
 chief actor in it, from us to whom so brief an account has 
 come after many ages. But besides that he was furnished 
 with all the illustrating facts, — I should rather say was most 
 deeply impressed v/ith them in heart and understanding, so 
 that he could not but readily apply the words of the pro- 
 phecy, — his attention had never been distracted, and its powers 
 weakened, as ours have been, by such variety of Incidents. 
 This was the first event, as it were, in his life ; he could 
 have had no previous change or degree of bliss or woe to call 
 his attention ; all its powers, therefore, were concentrated 
 upon this fact, to a degree much exceeding what we can be- 
 stow upon one of the most vital interest. Nothing can befall 
 us so important as to affect us to a degree approaching to 
 what he felt ; and even our greatest calamities find us already 
 tolerably broken in, and prepared to support them. Besides, 
 his clearness of understanding (wreck as it was of perfection) 
 must unquestionably have been superior to that of ours, which 
 have never known the uncloudedness of innocence, but are 
 clogged with the grossness of long-transmitted guilt; and 
 therefore, supposing even all things else the same, what is 
 •obscure to us might have brought no perplexity to him. 
 Again, while he was at that moment in circumstances which 
 would give their peculiar point to the words uttered to him, 
 his despair, felt for the first time, and intense far beyond any 
 with which we can be affected, would be more alive to dis- 
 E 2 
 
46 ON PROPHECY. 
 
 cern the first glimmering of hope. If we have seen it, in 
 our experience, so quick in catching the first ray of comfort, 
 and in gathering a warmth from a light so feeble as to be quite 
 indiscernible to others less concerned, what may we imagine 
 to have been his quickness of apprehension, his eagerness of 
 grasp ] Can we then, in fine, wonder that the most spiritual 
 man, the wisest man, the most unhappy man, placed in cir- 
 cumstances into which, with the liveliest picturing of our 
 imagination, we can scarcely gain an insight, surrounded by 
 relations into which, with all our vigour of understanding, we 
 can barely penetrate, — that he should have discerned a mean- 
 ing where we are baulked with perplexity ] 
 
 There intervenes no other prophecy between this and the 
 promise made to Abraham " that in his seed all the nations 
 of the earth should be blessed." This therefore sufiiced for 
 the consolation of the Patriarchal church. Nor was it, if we 
 consider the circumstances, insufficient to that end. For the 
 life of Adam himself was extended through nearly one-half 
 of the duration of this church down to Abraham, and the life 
 of Noah alone fills uj) to within one hundred and thirty years 
 the interval between his death and Abraham's birth. Thus 
 the prophecy came down to the last faithful member of that 
 church with little diminution either of its interest or clear- 
 ness. But circumstances are very much changed when we 
 come to the Jewish period ; not only are we come to the 
 short duration of man's life, which has remained ever since, 
 and therefore made tradition a much more precarious channel 
 of knowledge, but by this time the church is confined to a 
 narrow portion of earth ; therefore man would require as- 
 surance against the many untoward chances to which it 
 was thus exposed. The promise of the Redeemer was 
 limited not only to a nation, but progressively to a single 
 family of that nation : hence the stability of the nation and 
 of the family must be assured. On these accounts prophecy 
 would both be more frequent and also more particular. 
 
 With regard to frequency, it is singular that down from 
 Moses to Ezra there passes by not a single generation with- 
 out the accomplishment of some prophecy delivered by Moses 
 and his successors. So completely did God provide for 
 keeping up a faith in his promises, and exhort them to look 
 to the end in steadfast hope. 
 
 On the ground of particularity, we are here presented with 
 a new feature ; not only is the great end of all more plainly 
 
ON PROPHECY. 47 
 
 discovered, but a train of events leading on to it is foretold, 
 and prophecy thus takes into account a large mass of things 
 temporal ; by this connexion the end becomes palpable, as it 
 were : it is no longer the mere promise which it was before, 
 for each of the above events forms a substantial earnest of its 
 performance. The Jew can keep it steadily in sight, knowing 
 its exact direction, and as he proceeds, being able to estimate 
 its very distance, guided on as he is by a spangled line of stars 
 of glorious lustre, and of unchangeable positions, the fates 
 of kingdoms and empires of this world, of Nineveh, of Tyre, 
 of Babylon, of Damascus, earthly as they are, become to him 
 spiritual beacons, and fall, as it were, into that numerous 
 class of bodily types by which the eyes of this babe were 
 allured on to spiritual realities. This series of prophecies, 
 varying of course in circumstances as the end drew nearer, 
 may be divided into three stages. 
 
 The first, extending from Moses to David, has a peculiar 
 character from prophecy, being mostly applied to facts iso- 
 lated and at no great distance, as Nathan's with regard to 
 Absalom's revolt; and it is remarkable that God's special 
 intervention is very far more frequently and signally called 
 forth in this stage than in the following. All this we may 
 expect from the circumstances of the period, in which the 
 nation had not obtained a complete settlement in the land 
 until the end. It required, therefore, amidst its tumultuous 
 and unsteady fortunes, continued and particular assurances of 
 God's help and protection. 
 
 The next period reaches to the captivity ; and in this pro- 
 phecy takes both a longer and wider range, and for the most 
 part goes on directly towards the end. In this we have the 
 denunciations against Babylon and Tyre, and in this the king- 
 dom of Messiah is painted in glowing colours, and brought 
 so near to the eye that even the most dull and desponding 
 must take heart at the sight : meanwhile God's special inter- 
 vention is rare and at long intervals. All this is in accordance 
 with the circumstances of the period : the nation had been 
 completely established in the land, and therefore a vast ac- 
 cession of confidence had accrued to God's promises ; he had 
 given such an earnest that there could be no excuse for doubt ; 
 the nation, too, as now settled, had leisure to look to the end ; 
 and to that end, as the monarchy declined and evil times 
 came on, they would gaze more and more intently; and from 
 the blessed end God's word was removing all the apparently 
 
48 ON PROPHECY. 
 
 insuperable obstacles intervening ; the fall of their enemies 
 was pronounced, and if their captivity drew near, not to the 
 eye of the prophet only, but of the common man, yet the song 
 of man's deliverance pierced beyond the gloom, and assured 
 the end in despite of the thick veil of sorrow which intervened. 
 
 The third period, if we except the deliverance of the pro- 
 phet Daniel and his companions, exhibited before a foreign 
 people, is destitute of God's special intervention. But pro- 
 phecy assumes a more decisive tone, and her song grows 
 much more comprehensive; the nation was now either in 
 captivity, or in all the feebleness of its restoration ; but at 
 the same time the great end was coming fast into sight ; the 
 interval then was spread over by a golden network, as it 
 were, of prophecy, visibly connecting the present and future. 
 We now meet, for the first time, with a train of prophecy ; 
 that is, with a period of time foretold, with all its divisions, 
 by critical events pointed out, and the whole and its parts 
 adjusted to chronological dates ; thus the very year of the 
 Messiah's coming was pointed out, his character still more 
 clearly marked, and the last strain of prophecy which re- 
 sounded in the Jewish church rose with an impetuous bound, 
 so as far to overleap its previous limits, and to alight amid 
 the glories and the wonders of the Christian church. 
 
 The Christian period opens with the accomplishment of 
 the original promise, which was the key note to all others ; 
 a Redeemer has actually arisen from the seed of Adam, of 
 Abraham, of Judah, of David. As far as they looked for, 
 the end of the world is come. But to us the world begins 
 anew^ as with a second Adam ; and through this second 
 Adam we have a fresh promise given, that his Church shall 
 remain upon earth until his second coming again to put the 
 final consummation to all things. Here, then, as in the two 
 previous dispensations, we have an original promise to be 
 carried on by prophecy, and the whole interval may be divided 
 into two periods. 
 
 The first contains that short but momentous time when the 
 church, as in the first period of the Jewish, was wandering, 
 as it were, in the desert, and had obtained no settlement in 
 the land ; when it was yet but appearing in bright sprinkles 
 here and there, like dew upon the thirsty sands of the Hea- 
 then world. The first promise had been made through the 
 first Adam, in a season of extreme sorrow and humiliation ; 
 and, in a similar season was made the second promise, through 
 
ON PROPHECY. 49 
 
 the second Adam. This period, then, like the corresponding 
 Jewish, is full of God's special intervention by signs and 
 wonders, full also of prophecy. But prophecy is not con- 
 tinued beyond it ; the last strain comes from the last surviving 
 apostle ; hence the prophecy of this period is not only par- 
 ticular and applying to events close at hand, as that of Aga- 
 bus, but also runs on in a train so as to reach to the end of 
 all, as in the prophecy of the 1260 years; so that this period 
 answers to the three first of the Jewish. In the second 
 period, God's special intervention has ceased, prophecy is 
 silent. The church was now firmly settled ; a store of pro- 
 phecy had already been laid in, a vast store had also been 
 accomplished by the time of the final destruction of Jerusa- 
 lem: every thing, therefore, was assured. There was no need 
 then of a line of prophets ; this period, therefore, resembles 
 that which ensues after the third Jewish, only the certainty 
 which renders a line of prophets needless, rests on different 
 grounds. The end is as far off as in the first Jewish pe- 
 riod. But then he in whom all previous prophecy has fyund 
 its fulfilment, and who, therefore, gives us the surest pledge 
 possible, he has given us a prophecy both of himself im- 
 mediately, and a long train of prophecy through his be- 
 loved apostle mediately. Nothing, therefore, in the church 
 calls for further messages from God. But as long as she is 
 supplied with a succession of faithful men, fit conservators 
 and interpreters of the deposit already made, (and such he 
 assures us that there shall ever be,) so long has the church 
 all the substantial benefits of a line of prophets. 
 
 Such is prophecy relative to mankind in the general. We 
 now come to consider its effects upon man individually. 
 These may be considered as three-fold. Man will be com- 
 forted, will be warned, and will be proved by prophecy. 
 
 The two first effects are co-ordinate, beginning together 
 from the first, and ever after associated. Sentence of death 
 was pronounced on our first parents, in that same intervention 
 of God in which he promised their final restoration. And 
 we have all inherited the one together with the other. Every 
 individual since that moment, however spiritually regenerated, 
 may be considered under a two-fold view. With regard to 
 the remaining (and, in this our state, inevitable) infirmities 
 of the flesh, he is the old man condemned to death, with all 
 its necessary attendance of pain and trouble, bodily and men- 
 tal. But with regard to the power of the spirit, he is the 
 
50 ON PROPHECY. 
 
 new man, restored to everlasting life. In this latter capacity, 
 therefore, apprehending the sure word of God, he applies it 
 to soothe all the fears and perplexities, or to pull down all 
 the presumption, between which his frail mortal nature may- 
 be fluctuating, according to the aspect of the world before 
 him. God's threats fill him with humiliation and awe, and 
 tell him that he is dust, aud to dust shall return. They as- 
 sure him that he shall be dealt with after his sins, and re- 
 warded after his iniquities. The)'^ proclaim that the Lord is 
 jealous, the Lord revengeth, and is furious. They bid him 
 seek righteousness, seek meekness, so that it may be that he 
 shall be hid in the day of the Lord's anger. But his com- 
 fort binds up his heart, bruised and broken by worldly afl[iic- 
 tions, encourages him to exclaim, " Art thou not from ever- 
 lasting, O Lord my God, mine Holy One? We shall not 
 die :" and promises that his warfare shall be accomplished, 
 and his iniquity pardoned. Accordingly, every dispensation, 
 beginning with that given to Adam, has opened with a com- 
 bination of denunciation and consolation. If in one hand it 
 has held forth to man the cup of joy and salvation, in the 
 other it has also presented the cup of fury and of trembling. 
 In the very address of Moses, in which, not long before his 
 death, he concluded the covenant between God and the chil- 
 dren of Israel, what a fearful mixture of threats with promi- 
 ses ! Their utter ruin is predicted, together with the coming 
 of the expected Redeemer. The harbinger of the Gospel 
 proclaimed repentance for the remission of sins, and told 
 men, that while God would gather the wheat into his garner, 
 he would burn the chaff with unquenchable fire. And the 
 blessed Preacher himself, our Lord and Redeemer, hath pro- 
 mised tribulation and sorrow, even to the inheritors of ever- 
 lasting life ; and while from his own mouth, and also from 
 the lips of his beloved disciple, he hath assured the everlast- 
 ing endurance of the church, and the victory of his saints, he 
 is full of severe denunciations against particular churches and 
 individuals, who shall be guilty of disobedience. And how 
 full of warning have these come down to us ! From their 
 ashes, still smoking, those churches are crying out to us at 
 this day, telling of wrath and judgment to come ; and from their 
 very graves individuals are raising a warning voice against 
 opportunities slighted, gifts rejected, and talents misapplied. 
 In every period, therefore, of the church, if adversity have 
 its comfort, so has prosperity its warning. 
 
ON PROPHECY. 51 
 
 In prosperous times, men are too apt to be engrossed with 
 the enjoyments of this life, and their attention is too much 
 drawn away from the bliss of the life to come. But even 
 when they address themselves to such a consideration, it is in 
 such unison with their cheerful feelings, that very general 
 terms are sufficient to convey God's promise of the future 
 happiness. The mind, surrounded with images of bliss, 
 needs not a list of particulars to strengthen its belief or hopes. 
 All is warm and full of heat, and a few sparks are sufficient 
 to kindle a blaze. Hence, prophecy passes over such times, 
 with but just so much addition of particulars as shall suffice 
 to carry it on in due and gradual expansion. But in disas- 
 trous times, men's minds are unstrung, their hearts are cold, 
 their understandings are darkened with doubt and perplexity, 
 their affections are overcome with terror and apprehension. 
 General terms of comfort will not now suffice ; men cannot 
 hold and cling to them : they now w^ant particulars ; they 
 want detailed circumstances, which they may oppose to the 
 detail of misery Avhich surrounds them whithersoever they 
 turn the eye of flesh. They want to contrast a deliverer w4th 
 a subjugator; an everlasting kingdom, with a falling empire; 
 partners in light and bliss, with companions in pain and woe; 
 unlimited happiness, with dreary prolongation of misery ; a 
 time appointed, and resting-place for the sole of their feet, 
 with the wretched uncertainty by which they are distracted ; 
 characters of goodness and mercy, with those of cruelty and 
 vice, by which they are oppressed. They, in short, want a 
 bright side to each of the appalling objects around ; they 
 wish each dark and threatening cloud to be at least edged 
 with light, in order that they may be convinced that the sun 
 still exists, and that day shall return on the morrow, if not 
 to-day; they wish to behold angels of light combating against 
 each of those foul fiends which disturb their peace. There- 
 fore it was that, as the times grew darker to the Jewish 
 Church, prophecy grew more particular, until in the end, 
 amid all the fearful signs of approaching downfall, amid the 
 abomination of desolation, amid the abandonment of God's 
 visible presence among them, declared by the blazing temple, 
 amid the humiliation and despair of the captivity of princes 
 and people, amid the pitiable feebleness and helplessness of 
 their restoration, amid all the horrid discordant sounds attend- 
 ing this sad procession of events, was heard an uninterrupted 
 strain of the. song of prophecy, which would not be put to 
 
52 ON PROPHECY. 
 
 silence, but waxing louder and louder, like the trumpet of 
 God, rose higher and higher, with thrilling and heart-stirring 
 notes, above the deafening din of temporal calamity. It was, 
 likewise, from his prison, amid the weakness and persecution 
 of the infant church, that the beloved disciple of the Lord 
 sang forth, expanding into all its particularities his general 
 promise, that his church should not fail, and announcing all 
 the glorious facts of its victories and triumphs. 
 
 In both prosperous and disastrous times, men require to 
 be warned ; for in both they are naturally reckless. In the 
 one they cry out, " Soul, thou hast many goods laid up for 
 many years : take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry." 
 (Luke, xii. 19.) In the other they say, " Let us eat and drink, 
 for to-morrow we die." It were needless to instance the 
 solemn warnings given to the sons of Israel, and which we 
 may consider as addressed to ourselves also, under similar 
 circumstances, with, however, this additional weight, that 
 having been verified once, they are of all things most certain 
 to take place again, wherever their application is called for. 
 These, therefore, are our warning prophets too; and our 
 preachers delivering forth their solemn admonitions, ex- 
 pounding to us their awful fulfilment, and applying them to 
 our own times and circumstances, public or private, are an 
 unfailing body of prophets, to whom, if we listen not, neither 
 will we, though one of the prophets of old rose from the 
 dead. And not only have we these among ourselves, but 
 there hath visited us a preacher such as never preached to a 
 reckless world before, on repentance and judgment to come, 
 since the days of Noah ; a preacher who bears the signs of 
 his commission stamped upon the man, both in body and in 
 mind ; a preacher who, like Adam, can speak from experience 
 of the sorrows of ruin and degradation ; a preacher who has been 
 preaching ever since the Church of Christ upon earth began, 
 and shall preach until the end draw nigh. What 1 Is there 
 indeed a corner of Christendom unpenetrated by that myste- 
 rious stranger, who, bearing in his peculiar features the 
 lineaments of Abraham, and thus at a glance announcing to 
 us from what high estate he hath fallen ; cherishing in his 
 spirit all the sullen pride of ruined ^eatness ; exhibiting in 
 his dealings all the caution and timidity of the despised 
 stranger ; attracting, by his attachment to the carnalities of 
 his abrogated law, continued mockery and derision ; moving, 
 by his superstition, his obstinacy, and his blindness, the pity 
 
ON PROPHECY. 53 
 
 of some, the contempt of others, the neglect of all ; deprived 
 even of the only ordained assurance of pardon by being 
 denied all means of sacrifice ; and holding in his hand the 
 word of God, without a spirit to understand it ; — is there, 
 indeed, any church in Christendom, before which the Jew, 
 this awful monitor, has never appeared ? Oh ! his prophetical 
 character seems to cling to him still ; every where he appears 
 as God's herald to warn against disobedience, to proclaim 
 his judgments ; and wherever he appears, there should be, 
 as in the presence of the prophets of old, humiliation and 
 awe. Thus doth this preacher, traversing daily Christ's 
 kingdom, unceasingly admonish churches and individuals; 
 and, standing in our luxurious cities, should be to us as Jonah 
 amid Nineveh, summoning us to repentance and mourning. 
 
 The word of God, once gone forth, never returns to him 
 void ; it abides for ever among us, and generation after gene- 
 ration finds it still stronger from past fulfilment, and still 
 widening in extent of application. Were the threats thrown 
 out against Ephesus, Laodicea, and the rest of their company, 
 accomplished in them alone 1 have they found no object since 1 
 has their fiery indignation found no fuel, and become extinct ? 
 Where then is Edessa, where is Alexandria, where is Car- 
 thage, those bright and burning lights of Christendom in 
 their day 1 Where are they indeed ! It would be more easy 
 to discover the ruins of Carthage, than to detect a fragment 
 of her church. And have these threats terminated here, or 
 are they not rather confronting the churches of this day, 
 ready to hunt down as noble game as before 1 Are they not 
 prophecies more awful than ever, more sure from fulfilment, 
 more terribly significant from the melancholy detail by which 
 they have already been repeatedly illustrated and verified ? 
 Doubly and trebly have we been warned compared with our 
 predecessors ; shall we then by an equal length of resistance 
 meet with but an equal punishment, or not rather sufier in 
 proportion to our full insight into the meaning, and our expe- 
 rience of the certain consequences of the neglect of the ad- 
 monition ] 
 
 The proving of our hearts by prophecy is intimately con- 
 nected with its comfort and its warning. We shall show 
 our faith, and manifest our obedience according as we accept 
 it, to minister to our hopes and fears. If God's sure promise 
 t?annot avail to raise our fainting hearts in tribulation, nor to 
 subdue their pride, and turn them unto him iu our hours of 
 F 
 
54 ON PROPHECY. 
 
 prosperity, we are none of his : we have been weighed and 
 found wanting ; we have been proved, and have come out 
 dross. But there remains a further proof, applicable to us at 
 all times, and not the less sure, because we are not aware at 
 the moment that we are under trial ; not the less searching, 
 because our hearts are open in all their unsuspiciousness, and 
 we have not time to shut them before our visiter has entered, 
 and all our secrets have been revealed. Do we, in our study 
 of these oracles of God, keep in vicAV the prime object of 
 feeding a growing faith by observing where they have been 
 accomplished ; of creating and nursing in our hearts a cheer- 
 ful and unshaken confidence in his protection, an entire de- 
 votion to his majesty, his power, and his truth, so that we 
 may be found with our loins girded, and lights burning, in 
 the day of his visitation ; and thus do we look forward with 
 a godly hope, and the earnest expectation of the faithful crea- 
 ture ; or do we go to the perusal with a vain curiosity, with 
 that vulgar propensity of restless man, which sent him of old 
 to the oracle, to the auspices, to the diviner ; for thus have 
 men before now turned the pure word of God into an astrolo- 
 ger's almanack, and even into an impostor's credentials 1 It 
 is highly necessary to distinguish these different motives, be- 
 cause such critical periods, as that in which we are living, are 
 peculiarly apt to call them all into action, even in one and 
 the same bosom ; and according as they predominate is the 
 judgment of our trial. Let us, therefore, endeavour to detect 
 this lurking enemy of the truth, so that we may be enabled 
 to eject him from our bosoms. 
 
 Let us try our hearts, and seek there the impression which 
 is made upon it by the engrossing events of the times in 
 which we are living : does it, in a sure and certain faith, in the 
 end, say, " Thy kingdom come, thy will be done," accepting 
 equally joy and sorrow, looking to the completion of all pro- 
 phecy to be accomplished on earth, with the same tranquillity 
 and steadiness as we do to its final completion in heaven, 
 when this mortality shall have put on immortality, and this 
 corruption put on incorruption 1 Is the sorrow swallowed up 
 in the contemplation of the bliss to come"? Is the joy chas- 
 tened as an earnest of everlasting spiritual blessedness? 
 Again, let us inquire of our understanding. Does it cautiously 
 beware of mistaking the nearness of events for magnitude, 
 their interest to ourselves for importance to the Church of 
 Christ ; acknowledging that its limited powers can never as- 
 
ON PROPHECY. 55 
 
 certain their real importance, even in a political light, until 
 long after they have passed, and dragged in their tredn a num- 
 ber of pregnant consequences ; how much less then, in a pro- 
 phetical light, where the view must be extended to an end 
 far, very far, beyond the most acute and intent gaze of the 
 earthly politician ■? Do we eject thus both from heart and 
 head all minor considerations ; reckon, under this view, the 
 Church of Christ our only country — its triumphs our only 
 interest? Assuredly if we indulge in any more narrow con- 
 templation, if we exert not this catholicity of feeling, our 
 error will be little less gross than that of the Jew, whom na- 
 tional pride and worldly considerations rendered utterly blind 
 to the real end of the prophecies vouchsafed to his church ; 
 and we shall be driven to despair by those calamities which 
 usher in the triumphs of the church, even as the fight precedes 
 the victory. Our eye of flesh shall look upon earth, and be- 
 hold trouble, and darkness, and dimness of anguish ; and our 
 carnal heart, seeing all its proud hopes laid low, the cherished 
 signs of the Lord's coming all falsified, will, like that of the 
 Jew, turn away in unbelief from the real heralds of his ad- 
 vent. Such heralds are already in the world, and one of the 
 most obvious is the communication existing, and still increas- 
 ing, both in extent and intensity, between all the sons of 
 Adam, divided though they be by sea and by land, by tongues 
 and by customs. They are again once more gathering to a 
 common head. Even our own lifetime suffices to see a mani- 
 fest increase here : almost daily the widening prospect takes 
 in at least a nook hitherto unexplored by sight; and every 
 nook is an hour or a day embodied, as it were, and visibly 
 taken from the delay of our Lord's coming. In looking with 
 hope and joy on such a prospect, we cannot err : there is 
 nothing in its widening extent which can nourish a carnal 
 feeling ; for it is obvious that such extent, if it be due to peace, 
 and commerce, and good will amongst men, is also equally 
 owing to wars, ruined empires, subjugated nations — to pes- 
 tilence, to famine, and to the sword. Having received our 
 sign from God, let us, like his prophets, be content with it; 
 let us see, in faithful hope, the day of our Lord, and be glad. 
 Palpable, though undeveloped, events are in our possession ; 
 we hold in our hands, as it were, the baby Jesus, and with 
 our dying breath we may cry, " Lord ! now lettest thou thy 
 servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salva- 
 
56' ON PROPHECY. 
 
 tion." Helpless may the Church of Christ appear at darker 
 moments, helpless even as seemed that babe ; it may have 
 to endure spiteful mockings, to be a sign to be rejected, yea, 
 may be nailed to the cross. But upon all this the eye of faith 
 will look without a shrinking of doubt or dismay, and will 
 continue to look to the end, while every carnal eye shall long 
 have been averted in perplexity, disappointment, and disbe- 
 lief. Even at such a moment, perhaps, when men's hearts 
 are failing them from fear, when the strong are bearing up 
 through faith against the burden of calamitous days, when 
 the weak are desponding, when the apostate is triumphant ; 
 even then, in the midst of the fiery trial, that prophecy of the 
 1260 years, so much the concern of our days, which has been 
 shifted by expounders continually to and fro over the range 
 of history, shall all at once, with a noise of thunder, snap 
 into its place, and every part and joint find its proper position 
 and coincidence ; all become symmetrical and clear, to the 
 refutation of the infidel, the confirmation of the doubtful, the 
 triumph of the believer. Glorious and heart-moving is the 
 view which God hath given unto the Christian Church by 
 his word of prophecy, uttered since the world began ; the fu- 
 ture hope of the Patriarch and the Jew, is our past and assured 
 certainty. To them this word came in various -ways, at va- 
 rious times ; uttered now and then, and here and there ; de- 
 tached, progressive. But to us all has settled into one 
 continuous whole ; and comparing ourselves with the Jew, 
 we are men, indeed, compared with children, for we see the 
 tendency of all that discipline, and all those tasks, which he 
 obeyed, not from his understanding, but because it was the 
 will of his schoolmaster. Instead of looking forward with 
 idle curiosity, let us fix our eyes upon this magnificent spec- 
 tacle of prophecy, and filling our hearts with the holy feel- 
 ings of joy and thankfulness, and appreciation of God's 
 majesty, which it should excite, then carry on our eyes in 
 lowly and cheerful hope to the end. A view hitherto denied 
 to man has been revealed to us, and blessed are our eyes 
 which have seen things denied to the sight of Adam, of Abra- 
 ham, and of David. Jew, indeed, after Jew saw the progress 
 of God's promises, but still at the best he was ascending 
 within the tower of God's temple, catching but through oc- 
 casional loopholes the sights and sounds from without. But 
 we are they who stand upon the sumrfiit of that tower, and 
 
ON PROPHECY. 57 
 
 looking down on pinnacles and turrets, buttresses, and foun- 
 dations of that glorious fabric, see them all conspiring in 
 grand and terrific harmony. 
 
 Finally, my brethren, let us learn to look to the end from 
 a right understanding of the beginning : so shall we look 
 forward in faith, in joy, and not in vain curiosity and hank- 
 ering; so shall we have grace to do our duties with all 
 steadiness and single-mindedness in our own sphere and 
 days, that, if at any time the appearance of the world shall 
 say, in signs not to be misunderstood, that the Lord is coming 
 quickly, we may joyfully exclaim, in answer, with his be- 
 loved and prophetic disciple, " Even so ! come. Lord Jesus !" 
 Thus may our loins be girded about, and lights burning, as 
 men that wait for their Lord ; for the Son of man cometh at 
 an hour that we think not. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 
 
 DISSERTATION IV. 
 
 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 Therefore^ brethren^ standfast^ and hold the traditions which ye 
 have been taught, whether by word or our epistle,— 2 Thess. 
 ii. 15. 
 
 We have already shown how the fundamental points of God's 
 word were revealed to his Church from the first. The acces- 
 sions made to it by successive revelations will appear as we 
 examine severally its articles ; meanwhile an important con- 
 sideration calls for our attention. This is the means which 
 God hath appointed for its sure transmission from generation 
 to generation, and the use we are bound to make of such an 
 instrument of knowledge. 
 
 There was nothing in the patriarchal stage which required 
 the committing of God's word to writing, (supposing that 
 art to have been then known,) whether we regard the quan- 
 tity of revelation, or the number ot persons through whom it 
 had to pass, or the circumstances of its preachers. The 
 quantity, as we have seen, depended upon the original pro- 
 mise made to Adam, combined with the peculiar circum- 
 stances under which he received it. Now, both these he 
 himself continued declaring to the world for 900 years, and 
 between him and Abraham (to whom the promise was re- 
 newed with still greater clearness) occur but two successions, 
 namely, of Methuselah and Shem.* The circumstances of 
 its preachers were peculiar indeed : for when has the world 
 heard such a preacher as the first Adam, if we except the 
 second Adam, to whom he bears, in many points, a singular 
 
 * Methuselah was cotemporary with Adam, 243 years; Shem with 
 Methuselah, 97 years ; Abraham with Shem, 50 years. 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 59 
 
 relation, arising from his having been the corrupter where 
 our Lord was the restorer. For, first of all, he only (with 
 this exception) came to his hearers from a former state of 
 bliss and innocence : how vivid and heart-stirring, then, must 
 have been his setting forth of the happiness and glory pro- 
 mised hereafter ; what conviction must have impressed his 
 hearers, who listened to one who had actually known by ex- 
 perience what he stated, and not drawn upon the aspirations 
 of a fervid imagination. He only, too, (with the same ex- 
 ception) knew from personal experience the extremes of ex- 
 ultation and abasement ; knew to all its extent the degrada- 
 tion of sin and death, and tasted the cup of human agony to 
 the very dregs. He alone (with the same exception) could 
 sympathize with the infirmities of all mankind, for in him 
 they all had their spring; he was father, not only of their 
 bodies, but, alas! of all the sins and pains of those bodies. 
 How passionate, how powerful, must have been his preach- 
 ing to the inheritors of his own self-procured sinfulness and 
 death. How affectionate his exhortation, both as natural and 
 spiritual father, to resist that plague which he himself had 
 brought upon them. How deep, how edifying, must have 
 been his penitence. How lively his thankfulness to God, 
 his pardoner; how joyful his hope in a Redeemer; how pro- 
 found his humility ; how impressive, therefore, his example, 
 which must thus have borne to the conduct of his hearers, 
 somewhat of that relation which our Lord's bears to ours. 
 It bore testimony to his revelation. How unweariedly watch- 
 ful must have been his care over that flock, that he might 
 bring into the fold of eternal life the sheep whom his own 
 sin had scattered and driven astray. How intimate, too, 
 must have been his knowledge of the human breast : he, in- 
 deed, knew what was in the heart of man, but it was as his 
 corrupter, and not as his maker ; it was as having tasted per- 
 fect innocence before he fell into guilt, and not from the om- 
 niscience of divine purity. Finally, his very presence gave 
 evidence to his doctrine : it was to his hearers what the writ- 
 ten word is to us, together with all the proofs, collateral and 
 posterior, of its authenticity. The sixth part of a man's life 
 of those days did not elapse between him and Noah, the 
 preacher of righteousness. And when between the first and 
 second Adam arose a greater preacher than he, unweariedly 
 in the earlier part of his ministry warning men of the wrath 
 and judgment to come, and during the latter part setting forth 
 
60 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 the dreadful accomplishment of God's justice'? If Adam 
 could tell of the bliss of Paradise, and stir up his descendants 
 to struggle and regain that bliss in a world to come everlast- 
 ing, so Noah could speak of the horrors of the flood, and en- 
 treat his posterity to beware of the final judgment of the life 
 hereafter. Thus both the mercy of God, and the justice of 
 God, were preached in the Patriarchal Church, with a power, 
 and under circumstances, which rendered quite unnecessary 
 any commission of the word to writing. In Abraham the 
 original promise is both confirmed, amplified, and defined : 
 the Redeemer is to spring from his seed, and a new interven- 
 tion of God, with an enlargement of his mercy, has now to be 
 handed down to his posterity. But so shortened is human 
 life, that such tradition could not go far without corruption. 
 After, therefore, repeating his covenant with Isaac and Jacob, 
 God put the finishing crown to it in his communication with 
 Moses, caused the law to be registered in writing, and Holy 
 Scripture, (in the strict sense of the word,) commenced, after 
 three intervening successions* from Abraham, and six from 
 Adam. But it is necessary to bear in mind that this law, which 
 in all its provisions, civil and religious, peculiarly regarded 
 the abode of the favoured family in the land of promise, did 
 not take the place of the creed of the patriarchal revelation, 
 but only surrounded it as a vineyard with a hedge, to protect 
 it from the devastation of the superstition without. The or- 
 dinances are put upon a more settled footing ; the doctrines, 
 if not expressed, yet lie in it in such a manner, that, suppos- 
 ing them to be once known, their places are immediately 
 found.]" The whole faith, therefore, of the Patriarchal Church, 
 existing at the time of the delivery of the law, must have ex- 
 isted ever after. But that nothing may be wanting, God 
 maintained a continual succession of prophets, who, as they 
 taught, appealed perpetually to these doctrines, and if these 
 appear to be expressed more clearly, and to grow in number 
 towards the end of the Jewish dispensation, it is not because 
 they only now began to be entertained, (as some paradoxical 
 theorists would have it,) but because prophecy became, from 
 circumstances already referred to, so much more abundant in 
 quantity, and also, from growing infidelity, so much more di- 
 
 * Jacob, Levi, Amram. 
 
 t Thus the article of the resurrection of the dead, lies in Exod. 
 iii. 15, as shown by o\u' Lord. Matt. xxii. 32. 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 61 
 
 dactic in its nature. The very fact, too, which all divines 
 allow, of the later prophecies hinting these doctrines, shows 
 that they were addressed to a people to whom they were fa- 
 miliar. Thus the word of God came to the Jew most abun- 
 dantly indeed. It came to him by tradition from his fathers, 
 which was farther maintained by the teaching of the prophets, 
 and hinting of the law ; it came to him by direct precepts from 
 the moral part of the law ; it came to him reflected from innume- 
 rable points of the ceremonial law ; and all this in such a man- 
 ner, that a desire of knowledge was sure to be rewarded with 
 knowledge, and increase to earn increase. Even the most inert 
 portion of it, its straightest and yet most unnecessary injunc- 
 tions, had its effect. When the spiritual-minded man compared 
 this with the aspirations which had been raised in him by that 
 portion which bore spiritual interpretation, he felt an inexpressi- 
 ble yearning after something better ; he discerned a designed in- 
 completeness ; he was conscious of being in tutelage. Every 
 reading of the law thus supplied him with elements of thought, 
 which carried him on far beyond the point at which it ceased 
 to speak openly : it hinted most abundantly, but fulfilled most 
 scantily. Hence he was continually led on to the spirituality 
 of the glorious promises made in Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 
 and looked out for the redemption and the life to come. 
 
 But now to the Christian all this imperfection has become 
 perfection ; the obstacle of carnal ordinances has been re- 
 moved, and unlimited range is given to the spirit. All that 
 the Patriarch dimly sought in prospect, all that the Jew 
 doubtfully handled through the veils of type and prophecy, 
 all has been supplied, and more than the heart of man could 
 have contemplated and desired ; the flood-gates are burst 
 with the abundance of the stream, yea, all the windows of 
 heaven have been opened, and the whole earth is covered 
 with the waters of life. The word of God, consigned to 
 writing by the apostles of our Lord, and their disciples, hath 
 come down to us, and will go down beyond us to remotest ages, 
 delivered to successive generations by a faithful succession of 
 members of his church, the existence of which he has assured 
 to us for ever. Having received a gift so inestimable in it- 
 self, so wonderfully provided too with the means of transmis- 
 sion, let us with grateful hearts search into its riches, and 
 learn to apply to our use its exceeding benefits. 
 
 For this purpose we will first consider Scripture as a book 
 
62 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 of knowledge, and compare it with the most instructive and 
 interesting- of the different classes of the writings of men. 
 
 I. Since it applies to our morals, teaching us our duties, 
 let us compare it Afith a work of this nature. Let us, then, 
 take up such a book, the most perfect let it be which the un- 
 evangelized mind of man is capable of producing. Let us go 
 through it, comparing sentence with sentence, investigating its 
 principles, proving its arguments, imbibing all its knowledge, 
 and possessing ourselves to the utmost of its spirit. Let us 
 rise up from it with a mind exalted far beyond its former 
 pitch, and burning with a desire to put into practice that to 
 which both heart and head have given so devotedly their 
 sanction ; and when we come into the world of practice, alas ! 
 is not the intoxicating dream soon over 1 Do we not feel de- 
 ceived, deluded, and our high notions supplanted by an angry 
 feeling, as if we had been imposed upon, or by the despond- 
 ency of disappointment. For on the very threshold we are en- 
 countered with obstacles which had never been calculated upon, 
 and find, both in ourselves and others, infirmities of which we 
 had but slight, if any, notice ; and a depth of corruption, of 
 which but the surface had been presented. Above all, we 
 want an immovable ground of principle ; we want the per- 
 vading spirit of which the virtues which were recommended 
 are the body : for not only are those virtues opposed, but 
 their very foundation, such as it is, is too slight to withstand 
 the attack. It is battered, it reels, it falls ; and, with it all the 
 proud towering fabric reared upon it, of vain-glorious virtue, 
 comes with a crash to the ground. The only foundation is 
 faith in God, and the only book which can supply this is the 
 word of God : that book comes from him to whom all hearts 
 are open, all desires known, who knows all our infirmities, 
 and hath sounded all the depths of our corruption ; who hath 
 fashioned us behind and before, and from whom no secret can 
 be hidden. Informed with his word, we are informed with 
 his spirit, by which that word was dictated ; we have his 
 grace infused upon our hearts, so that we draw thence not 
 only the will and desire to do, but the wisdom and power also. 
 It forewarns us of all our infirmities, points out all our dan- 
 gers, and sends us into action prepared to encounter the worst 
 which can befall. We are, by the real view of our infirmities, 
 humbled in order to be exalted ; whereas that deluding book 
 of human wisdom exalted but in order to humble. The word 
 of men's wisdom moved us, b}'^ a number of unconnected 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 63 
 
 principles, as a dead body may be put into motion by applica- 
 tion to its dijBferent members; but the word of God is the 
 spirit of life within, which gives motion to every part of the 
 living body. So different is this book from a book of moral 
 precept, in which rank half-believers are so fond of consider- 
 ing it. 
 
 II. Since the word of God commands and forbids, let us 
 next compare it with a code of laws. Now in the case of all 
 human codes, a law may be learned, and we need no' refer to 
 it again ; and indeed its principal laws are known and obeyed 
 by the great majority without having seen the written code at 
 all, but they have learned them from their conversation with 
 the society which is founded upon them. But can this be 
 done with any part of Scripture 1 Let us take the most legal 
 part of it, the decalogue ; will any one, who has ever reflected 
 upon the nature of its all-seeing Giver, assert that any one 
 commandment there comes to him with the one unvaried 
 meaning (which it is the virtue of a human law to have) 
 which is expressed by the outward letter ] Does he not rather 
 feel that the searcher of all hearts, who forbids murder, (for 
 instance,) forbids also, by that same commandment, all thought 
 and feeling which by any possibility may ultimately lead to 
 it; and that therefore the most gentle, the most innocent, the 
 most charitable among us, may recite this commandment every 
 day of his life, and find in it fresh application to himself, and 
 cry out on God for pardon for the past, and grace for the fu- 
 ture ] From human law we learn what to do, and what not 
 to do ; but from divine law also what to tbink, and what not 
 to think. Doing requires a particular occasion ; thinking is 
 always at hand, always to be regulated, and therefore the law 
 of God at every moment applicable, and to be appealed to. 
 But if such be the case with the legal and comparatively car- 
 nal part of God's word, that we must have it ever in our 
 hands, being required to be our own judges, that we may not 
 be judged, (while we leave the exact knowledge of human 
 laws entirely to the magistrates appointed to administer them,) 
 what shall we say to the spiritual part 1 what to the Gospel 1 
 This is addressed to the most secret and inward part of man ; 
 in order fully to obtain its light we must bare to it the inmost 
 recesses of our hearts : and who, with the longest life, and 
 most uninterrupted habit of self-examination, ever arrived at 
 its bottom ] Who, then, but a madman would talk of a sin- 
 gle reference, or of a second-hand knowledge, as sufficient 
 
64 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 here. And yet this is but half of the instruction laid out for 
 us by the Gospel, which not only helps us to search the spirit 
 of man, but also informs us of the spirit of God ; and who 
 hath ever fathomed that depth 1 — still more, who shall com- 
 bine the knowledge of the two, and bring every turn and wind- 
 intr of his own spirit under cognizance of that unsearchable 
 spirit 1 No son of man is able ; but every son of man, as 
 having a spirit hereafter to be judged by that spirit, must do 
 this to the utmost of his ability, and anticipate, as far as in 
 him lies, the judgment of the last day ; therefore must God's 
 written word be continually in his hand, that it may be writ- 
 ten progressively on his heart. So far does it differ from a 
 code of human law. 
 
 III. Since God's word contains a history of his church, 
 and especially of its divine founder, let us compare it with 
 a history. 
 
 In the reading of history, however amused and instructed, 
 and even interested, we may be, yet, considered with regard 
 to our individual welfare, we are but little concerned. Let it 
 even be the history of our country, let our own forefathers be 
 amongst the most celebrated names, let our own native spot be 
 the scene of some of its grandest events ; we lay down the vol- 
 ume indeed with a glow perhaps of enthusiasm and personal 
 vanity, but we never take it up again but for occasional refer- 
 ence, or for particular passages, or to refresh memory by a rapid 
 glance of the eye, or to indulge the abovementioned passion ; — 
 we never read it carefully over and over again, compare pass- 
 ages, weigh sentences, with the interest of one who could learn 
 his own fate from it. Nay, let even this history be one of grand 
 and critical events, which not only bear a great resemblance 
 to those which are passing before our eyes, but also have 
 evidently given birth to them, so that we can trace an un- 
 broken chain from one to the other ; still we do not feel indi- 
 vidually affected, but merely as members of general society. 
 Having obtained a clear knowledge of the events, and drawn 
 our deductions, we close the book with a consciousness of 
 access to our knowledge no doubt, and with a renewed inte- 
 rest with regard to the aspect of our own times ; and we may 
 recur often to it, as a new light reflected from other portions 
 of history, or from passing events, clears up any portion, or 
 throws it into glowing relief; still the feeling amounts to lit- 
 tle more than curiosity ; we perhaps strongly or jocularly ex- 
 press our sentiments by calling it the book of fate. Yet is 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 65 
 
 this only politically speaking: we do not really feel our for- 
 tunes suspended upon those events, nor consider our individual 
 welfare of body and mind as flowing from them ; consequently 
 in this, as in the former case, the first reading, if it be not the 
 last also, is the only thorough reading : and however we^nay 
 improve our information by further recurrence, yet at no time 
 is either the interest of that vivid force, or the knowledge of 
 that practical nature, such as to have any sensible influence upon 
 moments not dedicated to the especial contemplation of such 
 a subject. 
 
 But let us now take up the word of God, the history of the 
 kingdom of heaven. Every event here is one of a grand and 
 brilliant series, tending to our own salvation. The actors in 
 them are God the Father and his blessed Son, and men, our 
 spiritual forefathers, whom death, instead of dividing from us, 
 unites. The public events, even of the most worldly com- 
 plexion, — as the rise and fall of cities and empires, of Tyre, 
 of Babylon, and of Persia, — as recorded there, all visibly bear 
 to the establishment of the kingdom of Christ's gospel upon 
 earth, are seen at this moment in their blessed effects upon us 
 and around us, and can be traced tending onward still to bril- 
 liant points of merciful dispensation beyond us, both as to 
 place and time. The private events are chiefly those which 
 conduct our Saviour to his cross, give continual occasion to 
 words from his mouth of inexpressible comfort, of peace and 
 joy to every earnest reader, and contain those sufferings which 
 perfected him as a high priest appointed to offer up an atone- 
 ment for our sins. Thus our own salvation is the continual 
 theme, the means of it the continual lesson. And it is the 
 salvation, not of the body, or things of the body, of which the 
 mind intently engaged in any study never thinks, but of that 
 immortal part, which, while we read, we feel within us weigh- 
 ing and discerning the spirit of the words, and trembling or ex- 
 ulting at their import; of that part which we feel indeed and 
 alone to be ourselves, from which we are conscious that we ne- 
 ver can be separated, now or hereafter. This book, proceeding 
 from the spirit of God, meets our spirit with his spirit ; and 
 what end can there be, what satiety of instruction and enjoy- 
 ment, in such a communion 1 Neither the first nor the hun- 
 dredth and first perusal will satisfy. It is a book for life. 
 
 IV. We may also consider the word of God as the biography 
 of a friend, who laid down his life for us ; as the testament 
 of a friend bequeathing us inestimable and everlasting trea 
 G 
 
66 ON Scripture. 
 
 sares ; as the letter of a friend from a distant land, to which 
 we ourselves must one day go. Under this and every other 
 view in w^hich we can possibly place it, we shall find it an 
 object of continual study. The more we look at it, the more 
 it expands. Some fresh quality of mercy, some new channel 
 of grace, some uncontemplated importance of fact suggests 
 itself at each perusal; and innumerable are the modes of joy 
 and sorrow, endless their combinations, which we thence de- 
 rive : of sorrow for the suiferings of our deliverer, — of sorrow 
 for own sinfulness to which those sufferings were due ; but of 
 joy for our Redeemer's return to life and glory, and joy for 
 our deliverance thereby so wonderfully accomplished. 
 
 So different, so inappreciably superior is this book to every 
 other, — and so different, so inexpressibly more ardent and 
 persevering must be our study of it. And now, let us ask of 
 ourselves, is it thus studied 1 Alas ! but by one or two here 
 and there ; and they will confess that their ardour and perse- 
 verance is far below what they are conscious it should be, 
 and that they never can hope to realize, however they may, 
 and will to the last endeavour, the notion and plan which 
 they have set before them. But do we even hear it talked of 
 as every book of general and powerful interest is talked of. 
 Is it a book which even the indolent and superficial betake 
 themselves to, because it is so common, that ignorance upon 
 it is disgraceful ? Alas ! neither is it so. It is a book, the 
 mention of which is studiously shunned in general society ; 
 it is a book of which the world will plead ignorance without 
 a blush. Various are the causes of this treatm.ent. It re- 
 quires much study, and most men will give but little to any 
 book; its subject is spiritual, and most men are natural. 
 These are plain and obvious causes ; but one cause there is 
 not so obvious, but fully as efficacious, and therefore more 
 insidiously besetting us : it is the notion that w-e are suffi- 
 ciently acquainted with its contents already. The absurdity 
 of such a notion has, I hope, appeared sufficiently from what 
 has been just stated. But as its effects are grievously im- 
 portant, let us examine it more particularly. 
 
 Of what nature is the prevailing knowledge of the contents 
 of this book? It is a loose, traditional information which 
 floats about in society, obtained orally and not by reading, 
 and known more from being at times unavoidably encoun- 
 tered, than by being ever purposely sought ; its highest and 
 purest source is nothing more than the attention which de- 
 
ON SCRirTURE. 67 
 
 cency demands men to pay to public worship, and this ope- 
 rates but feebly. It mainly comes to men in the great 
 traditional stream of modes and opinions, delivered down by 
 one worldly generation to another ; and thus reaches the pu- 
 pil in the same channel with the^ law of the land, with the 
 conventional usages of society, and other accompaniments 
 which entirely strip God's word of its awful and peculiar dis- 
 tinction from man's, degrade its solemn character, and assign 
 it a place scarcely above that of the established canons of so- 
 ciety. Such a knowledge must be not only most imperfect, 
 but erroneous also ; but this is the very sort of knowledge 
 which administers the most certain obstacle to all improve- 
 ment or correction; this knowledge is adapted to man's cor- 
 rupt inclinations, it satisfies, therefore, all his inquiries. To 
 alter our notions is to confess ourselves in the wrong, and 
 this our vanity will not allow ; at the same time it requires 
 exertion, and this our indolence will not endure: thus we 
 cling to our ignorance, and in religion mistaking the fami- 
 liarity of terms (which have been thrust on our ears whether 
 we would or not,) for the meaning of them (which we have 
 never taken the trouble to examine,) whisper in our careless 
 and overweening spirit, before our teacher, perhaps, has 
 opened his lips, "I know all that is going to be said alrea- 
 dy." This presumption of knowledge prevents too many 
 from consulting the original at all, and they who carry the 
 
 f>rejudices of imperfectly acquired, and therefore corrupt know- 
 edge, to the reading of it, are beset with difficulties, which 
 it requires great patience and exercise of good sense and 
 judgment to surmount. 
 
 The great danger of a superficial reading in this case, is a 
 confirmation rather than dissipation of previous errors. When 
 we look at a building with a passing glance, it will often as- 
 sume the features which we expect from some previous but 
 inaccurate information, or are inclined to find : our senses 
 have not time to contradict our notions or wishes ; and the 
 having seen it with our own eyes, convinces us more than 
 ever of the accuracy of our original notion of it. So it is also 
 with the mental eye, every thing is as we expect or wish to 
 find it ; we turn over the leaves in Scripture, see the same 
 familiar terms, phrases, and facts, and shut the book with the 
 satisfaction of having searched for ourselves, of having found 
 ourselves moreover in the right, and are thus confirmed in our 
 error. But as when we go up close to that building, and ex- 
 
68 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 amine it long and intently, the whole appearance alters ; mag- 
 nitudes, places, proportions are changed, windows are found 
 to be doors, chimnies to be towers, pillars to be buttresses, 
 and in fact the very order of architecture different : so is it 
 when we come to apply our minds closely upon Scripture, — 
 all is changed. Those terms so familiar assume different 
 senses, are beheld in a different connexion and bearing. This 
 relation of the terms to each other, it is, which we must en- 
 deavour to comprehend every day with surer and wider grasp ; 
 from this alone can we gain the clear and sure understanding 
 of the word, and be imbued with a deep and due sense of the 
 awful meaning of its terms. Let us then, having opened the 
 book, carry on our search with all the activity and perseve- 
 rance which the investigation of truth demands from us erring 
 mortals. Great indeed is the folly, and melancholy is the de- 
 lusion, of satisfying ourselves with the mere familiarity to our 
 ear and eye, of even the least important term (as it may seem 
 to us) in the gospel. Every stone in a building, however 
 magnificent the whole may be, is in itself commonplace and 
 familiar ; but as our eye carefully travels from it to its neigh- 
 bours, we are led to survey the harmony and grandeur of the 
 whole ; and on returning to it, we are surprised to find that 
 stone, hitherto thought so indifferent, filling some important 
 position in the support or beauty of the entire building. Al- 
 most every day, on going forth from our doors in a large city, 
 we encounter familiar faces ; but unimportant as they may thus 
 appear, did we inquire about such persons, we should find 
 them perhaps filling, in their respective spheres, useful and 
 necessary stations in the structure of the society by which we 
 are surrounded. Such is also the difference in importance 
 and meaning, with which the most familiar terms and pass- 
 ages of Scripture strike the person who had hitherto been 
 content to take them as they were offered to him, but has now 
 determined to ascertain their meaning for himself. And how 
 happy has ever been the result. How many, thus seeking, 
 have found that they had been familiar with an angel of God, 
 with a prophet of the Most High, yet known them not any 
 more than those two carnally-minded disciples did their Lord 
 on the road to Emmaus. How many have discovered in those 
 terms which they had carelessly heard, and still more care- 
 lessly, perhaps, employed, and discovered with a surprise of 
 wholesome fear or joy, — here a messenger to repentance, there 
 a monitor to obedience : here a minister of hope, there of 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 69 
 
 dread : here a queller of his pride, there an encourager of his 
 despondency : here a chaatiser of the conscience and a prober 
 of the heart, there a comforter to the spirit, and soother of his 
 troubles. 
 
 Let us proceed to remove the veil which long familiarity- 
 has thrown over some of these terms, and see if their real fea- 
 tures be indeed so insignificant, so uninspiring, so unappalling. 
 
 How familiar are the terms Salvation and Redemption to 
 the ears of men ; but have they ever called up together into 
 their mind, and placed next to their hearts, the facts which 
 are included under them, — man expelled from bliss, a world 
 lost in iniquity, devoted to death, the Son of God appearing 
 as a Redeemer from heaven, crucified for its sins, raised again 
 for its justification ; themselves, in particular, subject to the 
 shame, and liable to the glory implied in all this cluster of 
 heart-stirring facts 1 Men will speak of grace ; but have they 
 learned from the testimony of their own closely questioned 
 hearts, gathered from well applied experience, and drawn from 
 the instruction of Holy Writ, how much that is called in to 
 lepairl Have they followed with generous aspirations its 
 glorious course through the characters exhibited in Scripture, 
 from the first day of the spirit's visible descent upon the apos- 
 tles, tracing its healing influence on the weakness and corrup- 
 tion of human nature ] Have they examined its promises, 
 its means, its objects, and sought by earnest prayer its effects 
 upon themselves T They will speak of the atonement ; but 
 have they ever in their hearts leisurely confronted two beings 
 face to face, — sinful, weak, mortal man, with holy. Almighty, 
 everlasting God — and have they then tried to reach the height 
 of the mercy, and sound the depth of the love which could 
 draw cords of reconciliation between two such beings ] They 
 will use the term future retribution; but have they ever 
 calmly looked in the face the tremendous aggregate of facts 
 to which that term gives unity : Christ coming with his host 
 of holy angels in the clouds of heaven, with the trump of 
 God, to judge the quick and the dead, of all tongues, and of 
 all ages ; separating the crowd, — as Moses once the sea, — on 
 his right hand and on his left, welcoming the one side to 
 bliss, dismissing the other into everlasting punishment] 
 
 They will speak of our Lord's divinity. But have they 
 ever traced him in that glorious attribute through the two co- 
 venants, blazing as the angel of the one with fearful signs and 
 wonders ; and going about humbly, as the minister of the 
 g2 
 
70 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 Other, doing good with miracles of mercy and love ? Have 
 they reflected how overw^helmingly awful this attribute ren- 
 ders what is already so awful ; how it affects his rejection, 
 his agony, his cross, and his grave ; and how prominent in 
 responsibility the Christian stands apart from the rest of man- 
 kind, for hence God is in a peculiar manner his master, God 
 in a peculiar manner his judge 1 Such, when unveiled, is the 
 aspect presented by but a few of the general terms of Scrip- 
 ture. And their meaning is such, we see, as must not come 
 and go at man's will and bidding, but abide with him in his 
 heart, being continually kept filled up to their full measure 
 by frequent appeals to Scripture. Thus alone will they have 
 due weight upon our understanding and affections. Other- 
 wise with advancing years they will continually drop some- 
 what of their former fulness, make a slighter and slighter 
 impression, gradually lose all power of affection, and finally 
 sink into the most vague and unmeaning portion of the 
 vocabulary. 
 
 Shall, then, any thing less than a serious and persevering 
 study of this heavenly volume content us ? Can we ever dis- 
 pense with it ? Only let us inspect our own bosoms. What 
 infinite varieties and variations of sense and passion, what 
 changes of shapes of thought, and all its innumerable combi- 
 nations, are taking place there, within even a short interval, — 
 within one glance, I may say, — of self-examination. Not for 
 one moment is our frame of mind in one stay. Yet his word, 
 who knew what was in the heart of man, has ever something 
 wherewith to meet, correct, and turn to the best account, every 
 one of these varieties. Can we, then, ever cease to need its 
 application 1 As well may our body live without the vivify- 
 ing soul, as our mind dispense with the life-giving spirit of 
 Holy Scripture. Again, therefore, let me urge you to read, 
 mark, learn, and inwardly digest : above all, ascertain well 
 your present state of knowledge of the word, nor be afraid to 
 discover your ignorance ; for as surely as the fear of God is 
 the beginning of that wisdom which prompts us to obey him, 
 so is the consciousness of our ignorance the beginning of that 
 wisdom which leads us to know him; and having known 
 him, to love him with that perfect love which casteth out fear. 
 And now, finally, let me dismiss you with an appeal to that 
 name which ye bear. Ye are called Christians. This term, 
 so familiar as to be tossed about from one to another, be- 
 stowed indiscriminately on every one around us, nay, in many 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 7l 
 
 months, even synonymous with man, what does it impl}'^ 1 It 
 implies the sworn soldier and servant of Him, who is God, 
 Saviour, Priest, King, Prophet, Maker, and Judge of the 
 world. In it is comprehended the extreme of earthly humilia- 
 tion and of heavenly glory : in it we axe reminded of man's 
 fall and recovery, Satan's triumph and defeat, of the conquered 
 powers of darkness, of the conquering powers of light, of the 
 kingdom of God upon earth, and in the world to come ever- 
 lasting. Keeping in sight this meaning of the title which ye 
 bear, look into your own hearts, see their irresolution, rebel- 
 liousness, confliction of duty with passion, of spirit with flesh, 
 of darkness with light, and fly to the remedy which God hath 
 set before you, even his pure word. Let this title, coming 
 on your ears, be a trumpet-call to duty, rousing all your spirit 
 within you, as faithful soldiers of your heavenly Master. 
 And thus, even thus, by knowledge, by goodness, by the 
 armour of God on the right hand and on the left, may we have 
 Christ abiding with us, ever by his precious word through 
 his Holy Spirit, making us wise unto salvation. 
 
72 
 
 DISSERTATION V. 
 
 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 Study to show thyself apprm^ed unto God, a workman that 
 needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word. — 2 Trin. 
 ii. 15. 
 
 The necessity of a continual study of Scripture, has appeared 
 from its peculiar character as a hook, in whatever class we 
 choose to consider it. But this will appear still more clear on 
 considering not merely its subject, but the manner in which 
 that subject is treated. We shall find that there is a pecu- 
 liarity in the arrangement of its matter in the holy volume, 
 which will require a more particular study than would be ne- 
 cessary under other circumstances. 
 
 For this purpose let us only consider what is the nature of 
 the most celebrated works which profess to teach us the du- 
 ties of life. They are regular S3^stems ; precept is drawn re- 
 gularly from precept, and all proceeds by an unbroken chain 
 of reasoning, from some fundamental proposition. In this 
 consists their excellence ; but how unsuitable is all this to the 
 purposes of life. Here, so far from meeting with any thing 
 like system, every thing is a contradiction to it. We find 
 ourselves in a wilderness of circumstances, between which 
 the mind can, at the moment, trace no imaginable connection, 
 amid a confused train of thoughts and passions, brought into 
 play by unforeseen objects, without visible mutual influence, 
 intermingled without rational order, exciting, without perma- 
 nent effect. Can we wonder, therefore, at the slight domi- 
 nion which such books, however admirable, have ever exer- 
 cised upon practice ; exhibiting, as they do, a regular chain 
 of consequences which is never witnessed in real life ; ad- 
 dressing themselves to that which is comparatively so little 
 
ON SCRIPTTTRE. 73 
 
 consulted — the understanding — and leaving entirely unaffected 
 that grand and constant source of action, the heart : we may 
 even go further, and assert, that as far as they do influence 
 us, they throw the events of life, with which we daily come 
 into close contact, to too great a distance, by making them 
 subjects of theory, and thus lead us to speculate when we 
 should be practising ; and to think, when we should be feel- 
 ing. The book which shall have a deep abiding practical 
 influence on real life must reflect its image, must present that 
 real mixture of facts, thoughts, and feelings, which is found 
 to exist there, and while it does not neglect the proper ap- 
 peals to the understanding, will hold prominently forward 
 noble and influential motives to the heart ; — such a book is 
 Holy Scripture. 
 
 In this work the wisdom of God has consulted our weak- 
 ness, which in those books it was the object of the pride of 
 men to disallow. It would seem as if system had been pur- 
 posely avoided. Of the two portions of which it consists, the 
 one, the Gospels, is a narrative of facts, told as they occurred, 
 which, as they arrest the attention, and challenge the under- 
 standing, in their important bearings, engage also the heart, 
 incidentally, as it were, in the great stream of doctrine with 
 which they are pervaded. The other, the Epistles, that 
 great doctrinal storehouse, is composed of occasional letters, 
 full of continual reference to facts, abounding with appeals to 
 the affections, and so seldom indulging in any lengthened 
 train of argument, that we are commonly left to gather the 
 doctrine, by putting together what is there detached, and by 
 supplying what was evidently pre-supposed. This provision 
 of God's wisdom becomes still more apparent on turning to 
 any of the regular systems of divinity. How cold, how for- 
 mal, how unpractical they appear ; yet the doctrine is pre- 
 cisely the same, having been drawn from its pages. It is the 
 absence of facts, and artificial regularity of arrangement, 
 which causes the difference. In the former case we were 
 presented with real beings ; our Lord and his apostles moved 
 before our eyes ; the doctrines came forth, as called by circum- 
 stances, — always interesting, oftentimes most heart-stirring, — 
 from their mouths, or as illustrated with vivid beauty and 
 truth in their behaviour. The doctrines were thus associated 
 with facts, and made their impression on the heart with all the 
 solidity of substance. We were presented not only with teach- 
 ers, but with their hearers also. We listened to the one, we 
 
74 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 sympathized with the other. When our Saviour spoke, we 
 stood amid the train of apostles and disciples ; when St. 
 Paul reproved the Corinthians, we vv-ere interested in their 
 sorrow; when he commended them, we participated in their 
 joy; when he advised Timothy, we joined with him in fear- 
 ful and trembling responsibilit)\ Every little fact, whether 
 told directly out, or only disclosed by allusion, drew us into 
 a nearer fellowship, giving additional substance of flesh to 
 our conceptions, awakening our social feelings, and thus 
 opening all the channels of the heart to the reception of the 
 doctrine. But in the other case, our Lord becomes almost an 
 abstract being ; the goodly train of apostles, disciples, hearers, 
 and assembled churches, vanishes at once ; facts are excluded, 
 and thus, wiiile we have to follow the studied arrangement of 
 the compiler, and are debarred from the interest of making 
 our own inferences ; our heart, at the same time, has scarcely 
 any thing palpable presented to it. 
 
 This disposition of its matter will indeed require more at- 
 tention; but, at the same time, the impression made is not 
 only deep and lasting, but also sure and genuine : let us re- 
 sort to an illustration. Suppose a fig-ure, an image for in- 
 stance, put into our hands, not entire, but in separate pieces, 
 which are adjusted wisely to each other; when, after many 
 trials and much study, we had put this together, should we 
 not have a much more distinct and correct notion of it than 
 if we had examined it ever so long entire 1 We now know 
 clearly the relations of the different parts, with their proper 
 proportions, so clearly, that were a fragment presented to us, 
 as belonging to the figure, we could satisfy ourselves whe- 
 ther it did really so or not, and our memory retain steadily, 
 and to our great satisfaction, that w^hich our own labour has 
 put together. Such is the result of having studied so as to 
 make our own arrangement of the miscellaneous detail of 
 Scripture. Having put all its separate parts together in our 
 minds, its doctrines in our understanding, its feelings in our 
 hearts, and thus spiritually framed in our breasts its entire 
 configuration, we keep it by us permanently; and are, more- 
 over, enabled at any moment to reject such false doctrine as 
 the interested cunning of man may seek to impose upon us. 
 We see at once its discrepancy; we know that there is no 
 part to which it can be adapted. We will not argue on the 
 doctrine itself, whether reasonable or othervvise; but we see 
 that it is incongruous with the whole, and that is sufficient 
 
ON SCRIPTUHE. 75 
 
 for its rejection. But snpposin;^ that what we have thus re- 
 jected, be proposed to one who has not thus studied Scripture 
 for himself, but depends upon the aid of a system of divinity, 
 well and clearly drawn out, — will he have the same ready 
 discernment T He will not at the very outset, in all probability, 
 -have studied the system itself sufficiently ; made out as it is 
 to his hands, he will rely upon being able to lay his finger 
 upon any part, when occasion calls, and not have the whole 
 in his mind. In any case, he will not have the due compre- 
 hension of the bearing of the different parts to the one and 
 only true shape; nor will the figure be filled up in all its 
 parts, and unalterably fixed, but will flicker in his mind. 
 Thus it will admit of incongruous additions, there is -room for 
 preposterous impertinences to intrude, and his faith is in jeo- 
 pardy every hour. Under these circumstances, able and even 
 honest men may be entangled in the subtleties of wily argu- 
 ers, and receive for true what has been made to have to them 
 the semblance of truth. But with the proper study of the 
 original, men, unlearned in all other respects, may attain a 
 stability of faith which shall be proof to any shock from false 
 brethren without. So harmonious are the various relations of 
 Scripture, so accordant with all his purest notions ; so come 
 in aid of all his serious wants, so adapt themselves to every 
 turn of his mind, to every point of his understanding ; so apply 
 to all the affairs of life, that he has the firmest, the most un- 
 shaken conviction of its truth. It has completely adapted 
 itself to his mind, become one with it, and partakes, therefore, 
 of the certainty of its existence. " No subtleties suggested by 
 unbelievers will move him. As well may they propound to 
 him Berkeley's objections to the existence of matter. Nor 
 will he be less safe from the impositions of false teachers, 
 whose doctrines he will quickly discern to be at variance with 
 the truth. To the learned, who has to pursue the history of 
 the Church of Christ after the apostolic period, it is abso- 
 lutely necessary to have arrived thus at a decisive state of 
 religious opinion, in order that he may discern whether what 
 he reads is traceable to Scripture, whether they deform the 
 original, or conform to it. This being the nature of the Holy 
 Volume, it is plain that it requires qualities in its student in 
 a higher degree tlian that in which they are commonly exer- 
 cised upon other books. It must be read with more than 
 common candour and sincerity, with more than common at- 
 tention, with more than common perseveranx^e. 
 
76 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 We all know how a perverted mind distorts every thina to 
 its ow^n views in the perusal of writing^s, especially in such as 
 are of a moral and historical cast. By a misrepresentation 
 of some particulars, and a wilful slurring over of others, out 
 of any complex question or body of facts, it can re-model the 
 whole in satisfactory unison with its most corrupt inclina- 
 tions. Now Scripture is both a moral (taking the word in 
 its widest sense) and historical book, and the facilities of 
 perversion are very much increased, by the very circumstance 
 which we have seen to be favourable to ingenuous minds, 
 namely, its arrangement. This is not that regular and closely 
 woven chain which binds the reader to follow every step, 
 examine every point, resisting by its systematic connection 
 every attempt to omit or displace any link. But, in addition, 
 the corrupt bosom is sure to carry into the perusal the most 
 hearty good will to pervert. For the real views which the 
 book exhibits are so humbling to human pride, so full of me- 
 nace and stern rebuke, to the darling propensities of fallen 
 man, and unfold such awful views of present responsibility 
 and future judgment, that our corrupt nature gladly lays hold 
 of any means of turning aside from so uninviting a contem- 
 plation. In deducing, therefore, its doctrines, such a bosom 
 will select or omit such quantity and quality of detail as best 
 suits its own previous views. Is not the history of the 
 Church of Christ full of examples of this abuse of Scripture, 
 and see we not the most determined self-accommodation in 
 those w^ho, in our days, denying our Lord's atonement, con- 
 duct their controversy with a perversion and disingenuousness 
 incredible to those who have not witnessed if? But, perhaps, 
 on a strict self-examination, we may find something of this in 
 our owm selves ; and our own consciousness, combining with 
 the memory of past experience, will suggest but too many of 
 those shades of corrupt feeling which intervene between the 
 first timid flutter of stricken conscience or wounded vanity, 
 which would fain, but dares not, turn aside from some mortify- 
 ing conclusion ; and the proud defiance w^hich shuts the vol- 
 ume at once, as speaking the language of a reproachful 
 enemy. 
 
 A frank and ingenuous mind alone would profit of old from 
 the preaching of our Saviour and his apostles ; and the same 
 is equally required for the profitable perusal of what they 
 have left in writing. We must approach this volume, as we 
 would the ark of God, with a profound reverence, with a 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 77 
 
 wholesome fear of violating its purity, and with an offering 
 of our whole heart, laying it open before him to his searching 
 light in all its deepest recesses, without the reserve of a single 
 nook, or the subterfuge of a single turning. Thus seeking in 
 all humility the knowledge of his will, and not the confirma- 
 tion of our own, we shall obtain the blessed guidance of the 
 Holy Spirit, who will at once purify our bosom, and enlighten 
 our understanding. 
 
 The -very nature of this book, we have seen, forbids any 
 correct information to be derived from such a perusal as is 
 given to other books ; a slight reading will neither dissipate 
 previously entertained errors, nor attain to any sound doctrine, 
 but, on the contrary, is likely to add but error to error. We are 
 sufficiently fortunate in such a case, if we are supplied with 
 a bare historical belief of the facts of Scripture. But never 
 can we arrive at the deep and lively impressions of the heart, 
 the holy temperament of the feelings, the linking of the 
 thoughts in one bond, the direction of them to one object, the 
 steadiness of view which can behold the light without a mote 
 in the eye, or a cloud in the air, — in a word, a firmly rooted 
 faith. This is the reward of far superior exertion?, the effect 
 of an union of heart and understanding in the same cause, 
 which can be attained by unwearied diligence only, exerted 
 in putting together again and again, and weighing in all its 
 bearings the detail of Holy Writ. 
 
 But it must be pursued also with more than common 
 perseverance. In the perusal of other books we may often 
 arrive at their conclusion with our reasoning advanced, and 
 imagination excited beyond the point at which the author has 
 paused. And in every case, so circumscribed is the mind of 
 man, a definite number of perusals is sufficient to give us 
 full possession of all which the author himself really under- 
 stood. But Scripture presents us with a portion of the mind 
 of God, and who hath ever known that, or been his coun- 
 sellor 1 Or who shall set limits to it, and think that it shall 
 be comprehended in the limited mind of man "? The least 
 particle of revelation from God, in intimate connexion as it 
 is with all above and below, past and future, is sufficient for 
 ever to task the human faculties. Were, therefore, life pro- 
 tracted to a period ever so long, the more he studied, the 
 more also would the student find to demand his study still. 
 The heart needs a continual renewal of healthy affections, by 
 feeding upon the sense of God's will ; the understanding ta 
 H 
 
78 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 be brought, from continual deviation, into adjustment with 
 the standard of divine truth ; and as page is turned over day 
 after day, fresh passages are starting into importance, while 
 others, which appeared detached, are forming clusters in his 
 mind ; and in every direction views are expanding, difficulties 
 clearing up, deeper and more lasting impressions are forming. 
 Who, for instance, M'ill say that his understanding ever 
 arrived at an unbroken view, even within its reasonable 
 limits, in the Epistle to the Romans 1 Who, that his heart 
 ever satisfied itself with reaching the depth of feeling express- 
 ed in St. Paul's farewell address to the Church of Ephesus, 
 — how much less in those passages in which he accompanies 
 the Saviour of the world to the cross] Who, that he ever 
 satisfied either heart or understanding, in the crowded mag- 
 nificence and awakening conclusions of the Epistle to the 
 Hebrews'? The book which tells of the future life, may 
 indeed well demand for its comprehension all the employment 
 of this, and the word of God for ever invite the highest 
 exertion of the faculties of man. 
 
 W^ith these qualifications then of more than common sin- 
 cerity, attention, and perseverance, the student must approach 
 the holy volume. The grand requisite implied in them all is 
 an habitual and patient examination of detail, an habitual and 
 careful study of facts, which must be the more numerous and 
 the more established, in proportion to the extent and weight 
 of the superstructure. 
 
 Unfortunately this requisite is less common than it was. 
 It is the fault of our stage of society. Our predecessors have 
 left us so many aids in every department of knowledge, so 
 furnished us every where with ready-made collections of facts, 
 with ready-drawn outlines and systems, that he must have a 
 mind far more independent and original than his fellows, who 
 will forego all these advantages, and seek for himself; who 
 will despise the vanity and low ambition which can make an 
 ostentatious display of knowledge acquired at second hand, 
 and can exult in the borrowed plumage of far nobler minds ; 
 who will enter with the undaunted spirit of the champion into 
 all the dust and tumult of the arena, and grapple hand to hand 
 with detail ; who, amid a multitude of facts, will form his 
 own combinations, create his own shapes, cut out through 
 the perplexing wilderness his own views, and disdain to rest 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 79 
 
 content with what are termed general views, — those ordinary 
 tracks through the field of knowledge, which have been trod- 
 den bare by twice ten thousand minds before. 
 
 To the formation of a character so requisite, there are many 
 obstacles opposed, and by far the most serious, we see, are 
 those which spring- up in the very field of knowledge itself. 
 The deceitfulness of the ground, indeed, is proverbial, and 
 the more we become acquainted with it, the more we per- 
 ceive the necessity of keeping a guard upon every step. Yet 
 it is daily entered without the least foresight or precaution, 
 as if there were a single spot in the regions of body or mind 
 which the great adversary had not beset with his stumbling- 
 blocks. 
 
 One character ill-suited for this study, is he who has been 
 allured to the wide field of general knowledge, which is 
 spread before him in such imposing extent and pleasing va- 
 riety. The allurement having been his own gratification, 
 whether of indolent amusement or of selfish vanity, he enters 
 it under a baneful influence ; for in every pursuit it is the ob- 
 ject which gives it its character, and rewards it with a bless- 
 ing or a curse. Such a person, therefore, flies from pursuit 
 to pursuit, as the drone from flower to flower, without gather- 
 ing honey. In course of time, his mind, habituated every 
 where, from want of leisurely investigation, to gratuitous 
 assumption, grows insensible to the force of proof: by 
 neglecting the proper means of forming its own views, and pass- 
 ively borrowing those of others, its independence is broken, 
 its stability destroyed, its native vigour and straight forward 
 ingenuity is lost. Loose and desultory habits come in the place 
 of single-minded, persevering industry; judgment is per- 
 verted, perception confused, memory ill-arranged and treach- 
 erous ; and an overweening vanity which mistakes for talent 
 its slavish docility, which decries as the food of plodding 
 dulness, tliat detail which itself has neither sincerity to ap- 
 preciate, nor powers of attention to master, nor vigour of 
 faculties to digest, — this fills up the measure of the curse of 
 barrenness, with which God ever visits the abuse of his gifts. 
 What then has such a person to do with a book demanding 
 such'large endowments of qualities which he possesses not, 
 and the spirit of which, above all, recoils from the unholy 
 apprehension of falsehood and vanity ; breathing, as it does, 
 meekness and lowliness, gentleness and unwearied patience, 
 from every page 1 
 
80 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 Ill-suited, likewise, is another character, in many respects 
 opposed to the last. He who has hung- over the treasures of 
 ancient literature with that exclusive attention, that he has 
 imhibed its proud and intolerant spirit, so that every other 
 literature appears rude and barbarous, and, above all, that 
 book whose spirit throughout is opposed both to the style of 
 his favourite poets, the maxims of his favourite philosophers, 
 the characters of his favourite worthies. Hence is that book 
 but too frequently overlooked by men who have devoted their 
 time and talents to this department of learning. And even 
 when it is taken up, the profit is often far less to such persons 
 than to other men. From having- contracted their field of 
 view, and neglected the healthy supplies to the mind from 
 the world without, and also from the license of conjecture 
 indulged in such a study, these men are apt to carry to the 
 Holy Volume a spirit little agreeable to it. They have not 
 sufficient reverence for its authority ; they are arbitrary both 
 in the reception of the text, and in their interpretation of it ; 
 and are, above all men, liable to the disease of an irregulated 
 imagination. Nothing, indeed, can be more arbitrary in its 
 choice than this, and nothing more exclusive when it has 
 chosen. If it will fix upon the brilliant and vast for the room 
 which it gives to its extravagance, it will also choose the tri- 
 fling for the indulgence of the pride of creation; for there it 
 experiences the consciousness of its own powers displayed in 
 the magnitude to which, by the gorgeous dress laid on, it has 
 swollen an object so insignificant. All between, which in- 
 cludes the golden mean of calm and sober dignity, is over- 
 looked and despised. It comes, therefore, but ill prepared to 
 the simple language, the sober dignity, and unaffected good 
 sense of the Holy Text. By capriciously laying undue stress 
 on particular points of the detail, and not giving every part 
 its due weight, so that all shall be in harmonious equipoise, 
 it forms a tottering edifice of belief, of discordant parts and 
 proportions, and distorted in a multitude of ways from the 
 features of stable grandeur, exhibited by the glorious original, 
 the spiritual Temple of God. 
 
 A third character also ill-qualified to approach the Holy 
 Volume, with the due correctness and proper information, is 
 he who h-as never extended his serious pursuit of knowledge 
 beyond the boundaries of the exact sciences. He is too apt 
 to confound the nature of moral and abstract truth, which in 
 this instance are particularly opposed ; in the latter case a 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. SI 
 
 general truth having been discovered, all the detail included 
 under it is also in our power, whenever we choose to apply 
 it ; the proposition, retained in memory, involves all that it 
 did when first discerned ; it loses nothing of force, and lies 
 ever ready for immediate application in all its original extent. 
 In the former case all this is reversed : in order to obtain the 
 general truth, we must have mastered the detail of which it is 
 the result, and so far from the recollection of the general 
 truth giving us the means of working out at any time the de- 
 tail, its impression on the mind will be correct only in propor- 
 tion to the quantity of detail retained with it, and to the fresh- 
 ness with which each particular is remembered. Hence, to 
 keep up this general proposition in the memory, we must be 
 continually repairing the loss of detail which the infirmity of 
 our memory is continually letting drop ; and this detail is 
 acquired and maintained also not only by the powers of the 
 head, but also by the feelings of the heart, the former of 
 which were alone consulted in the preceding case, but the 
 latter are principal here. Hence, also, this detail is slow of 
 acquirement, for while the understanding is to the mind as the 
 sight to the body, informing it at a single glance ; the heart 
 is as the touch, informing it by the slow and successive ap- 
 plication of parts, and its lesson comes upon it by the gradual 
 process of page on page, letter on letter, line on line. In 
 Scripture this is most especially the case, since there the 
 doctrine is mixed with a body of facts upon which it is de- 
 pendant ; and each fact, on every fresh application to it, will 
 not only revive former feelings, but also occasion new, so that 
 "vve cannot pronounce at any moment, without the most gross 
 self-delusion, that we are masters of Scriptural detail. Our 
 whole life can but accumulate it, never complete its store. 
 
 From his confounding then these two species of truth, 
 such a character is too much inclined to undervalue the dif- 
 ficulties attending the reception of religious truth, and also to 
 be blind to the necessity of a constant recurrence to the writ- 
 ten word of God. He is too apt to be satisfied with the 
 general notions which he has of its doctrine, and which he 
 has derived through an imperfect channel, considering them 
 to give him possession of the results of the detail of the Holy 
 Volume, into which, as into a set of subordinate truths, they 
 are resolvable at pleasure. He forgets the principal and pe- 
 culiar province of the heart, or recoils from its tardy mode of 
 acquirement ; thus not only have his habits of thinking dis- 
 H 2 
 
82 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 inclined him from the proper and minute study of Scripture, 
 but he is not so much as aware of its supreme necessity. 
 
 These cases, to which more might have been added, have 
 been stated as briefly and generally as possible ; and, as all 
 general cases must be, pushed to their extremes. It is not 
 necessary to qualify them here, or give them more practical 
 substance. They form three great classes, to which, either 
 single or combined, w^e may refer all imperfect believers ; 
 and certainly few, if any, of those w^ho have tasted the enjoy- 
 ment of a liberal education, and paid proper attention to the 
 internal operations of their ov/n minds, can fail to have de- 
 tected in his own bosom, at some period or other, the ele- 
 ments of each. They must have experienced the strong 
 temptation of a wide field of knowledge ; they must have 
 indulged, like the child who presses his closed eyes, in the 
 brilliant and gorgeous hues of the imagination ; they must 
 have felt the power of philosophical generalization. Happy 
 they ! if they shall have been enabled to keep down each 
 element in due and healthful subordination. 
 
 These cases are sufficient for the point in hand, which was 
 to show the more prominent obstacles which the pursuit it- 
 self of knowledge throws in the way of the study of Scrip- 
 ture, rendering more rare than perhaps is generally thought, 
 and certainly than could be desired, the character which was 
 laid down for its earnest and improving student. 
 
 But it would be strange indeed if the cultivated mind were 
 not exposed to increased difficulties and obnoxious to greater 
 perils ; the extension of any sphere of good is (alas ! for our 
 corrupt nature) necessarily that also of the evil with which it 
 is so intimately mixed up ; and the Giver of all good things, 
 as he bestows not his gifts in vain, would depart from his 
 established economy of the world, if he did not accompany 
 them with corresponding trials to call forth and perfect their 
 due exercise; therefore the cultivated mind dwells in the 
 midst of perils, and, like the intruder into power, cannot re- 
 main with impunity where it is. It must neither tarry nor 
 sleep : conspiracies of the powers of darkness are around 
 it, which, as they grow more threatening, it must surmount 
 by going on to greater and still greater power, until it attain 
 that sovereign unassailable power which is conferred by the 
 knowledge of the word of God. There alone is its resting- 
 place, there alone its throne, whence it can behold its enemies 
 in subjection beneath its footstool. 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 83 
 
 A sovereign power, indeed, is that knowledge to which all 
 other knowledge must administer but as a loyal subject; for 
 all other, however brilliant in appearance, however vast in 
 extent, however useful in means, yet, if it be independent 
 of this, terminates but in the mortal body. This is the foun- 
 tain of honour to them all ; yet (such is the perversity of hu- 
 man nature) as God is forgotten for his angels and saints by 
 the weak and superstitious, so is this forgotten for its servants 
 by the wise of this world. 
 
 Great, overpower! ngly great, is the responsibility of those to 
 whom God hath assigned the blessed gifts of talents to learn, 
 and of leisure and opportunity of learning. The aid which 
 they can bring to the cause of religious truth is manifest, but 
 the harm which their apathy (to say nothing of their opposi- 
 tion) can effect is too little considered ; here, indeed, our 
 Lord may more especially exclaim, " Who is not with me is 
 against me." On the unthinking, and on such as are guided 
 by the examples around them, (and how large a portion of 
 society is this,) is it necessary to state the effect of indiffer- 
 ence to God's word, shown by men looked up to for power of 
 talent and extent of information 1 When they see that all 
 the treasures of knowledge have been ransacked but this, see 
 all subjects eagerly discussed but this, find all books pain- 
 fully marked and noted but this ; can they do otherwise than 
 learn to treat this volume with disrespect, — to reckon it dull 
 and uninviting, mean and homely, a book for the vulgar ] 
 But even such treatment is less injurious, such silence less 
 pernicious, than the levity of discussion with which it is 
 sometimes entertained by persons of reputation for human 
 wisdom. Unwilling, in their ostentatious display, and pre- 
 tension to all knowledge, to appear quite ignorant of this, 
 they will subject it to the same superficial means of acquire- 
 ment, and With the same careless levity, as they treat the 
 ephemeral productions of the day, which serve for subjects of 
 conversation. Hence its awful truths are discussed with a 
 licentious laxity of opinion, the debaters seeking effect, and 
 not conviction, and putting together in wrong, if not para- 
 doxical and fantastic combinations, such detached passages 
 as happen, amid their careless hearing or reading of the 
 word, to have solicited and retained upon their memory. 
 The opinions of such men on religion, worthless (to say the 
 least) as they are, unfortunately exercise much influence on 
 that large class which look up to men of literary character as 
 
84 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 to infallible guides in every department. It were better for 
 such to hold their tongue for ever upon this awful subject, 
 than to rush into it without a knowledge conscientiously 
 sought, and therefore correctly attained. 
 
 Some scholars, some men of character for all the attainments 
 of human knowledge, embraced the faith of Jesus even in the 
 earlier days of the gospel. Such was probably Dionysius the 
 Areopagite, and such certainly was Justin Martyr. Let us, 
 who have revelled, as they also had done, on the feast of li- 
 terature, consider the frame of mind which led them in the 
 end to make the inestimable preference of the word of God. 
 Their faculties had not been abused and dissipated by frivo- 
 lous and heartless pursuit of superficial knowledge; they 
 had not been dulled by indolence of light reading, nor per- 
 verted by vanity, but had been maintained in all liveliness of 
 health and vigour, so that the mind, having its natural sway, 
 should pursue its legitimate objects. It must have had quick 
 all its native curiosity, all its candour, its love of truth, all 
 its energy of pursuit, all its singleness of view. Such quali- 
 ties (and let us ever bear this in mind) it must have brought 
 to that investigation, which God has ordained to be its no- 
 blest exercise, the investigation of his attributes ; and to this 
 end also it must have habitually practised temperance, to keep 
 itself in vigour ; prudence, to direct its exertions by the 
 shortest and surest way; fortitude, to keep its own unswerv- 
 ing course, undiverted by the authority of names ; adding to 
 them all, patience to endure, perseverance to pursue, hope to 
 attain. To such a mind spoke St. Paul at Athens, and be- 
 yond all our powers of conception must have been the effect. 
 Let us imagine a treasure long sought, under a hope, indeed, 
 but not assurance, of its existence, to be at last found ; a 
 grief long suffered to be turned into joy ; darkness long and 
 thick to be suddenly changed into uninterrupted light; life to 
 be given for death. So came upon these primitive scholars 
 the tidings of salvation in Christ Jesus. And shall not we, 
 their successors in both fields of knowledge ; we, in whom the 
 order has been reversed, who knew the sound of the word of 
 God long before the dictates of the philosopher, or the tale of 
 the poet ; who never knew what real darkness was, any more 
 than he who at will retires for a short time into a cavern from 
 the rays of the sun, in order to enjoy them again in greater 
 effect of warmth and brilliancy, — shall not we maintain with 
 equal sense of its value, with equal joy and.saiisfaction, the 
 
ON SCRIPTURE. 85 
 
 inestimable gift? Shall not we, who all our life long-, both 
 in ourselves and in others, have been experiencing its blessed 
 effects, maintain our profession as zealously as they chose it ] 
 O what a state of condemnation would ours be, if, in contrast 
 to those learned men of old, who changed the philosopher for 
 the Christian, we should exchange the Christian for the phi- 
 losopher. God forbid such a termination. Let us diligently 
 provide against the slightest probability of it. 
 
 A tendency to this result belongs to mature age. But 
 there are many here present who have still the great part of 
 their course before them. They are at that period of life, 
 when it is enjoyed to all its measure of fulness ; when the 
 experience is common of those blissful moments, in which, 
 from health of body and lightness of heart, the bare animal 
 existence is felt as an inestimable blessing. What feelings 
 then, let me ask of them, can they conceive as attending the 
 consciousness of existence of a mind fresh in spiritual health, 
 and full of the glad assurance of immortality 1 How joyous, 
 how divine ! Such a sense is conferred by the word of God : 
 thus its knowledge bestows the blissful feelings of eternal 
 youth upon the mind. Let the recurrence and the remem- 
 brance of such moments serve to bring the analogy to view, 
 and accustom them to appreciate the exceeding value of this 
 heavenly gift. This (let them bear ever in mind) is the 
 one thing, without which all knowledge at the best is use- 
 less, and may be most pernicious. For knowledge, though 
 indeed a glorious, a powerful instrument, yet like all mere 
 human acquisitions, is in itself but a brute weapon, depend- 
 ing, for its effect of good or evil, upon the mind of the 
 employer, and may be used in felling God's cedars on 
 Libanus, when it should be hewing down the groves of 
 Baal. 
 
 Let them, then, remembering their Creator in the days of 
 their youth, dedicate to the study of his life-giving word the 
 freshness of the morning of their days : even now, in this 
 their day, while the heart is yet plastic and unperverted, still 
 in healthy communion with the head ; while the mental vision 
 is yet clear; while the power of observation is yet fresh and 
 keen of edge, — of attention yet undistracted, of memory yet 
 retentive. On the suitable employment of these mental gifts, 
 depends not only their native health and masculine vigour of 
 mind, but the power of appreciating divine truth is concerned, 
 the welfare of their immortal souls is at stake. Let them, 
 
86 ON SCRIPTURE. 
 
 therefore, together with the blessing', consider the responsi- 
 bility also of the gift which God has conferred upon them in 
 a liberal education; and as they gaze upon the wide and 
 spirit-stirring prospect which he has thus unveiled to them, 
 and feel the firmness of grasp, and the extent of power, with 
 which he has thus endowed their understanding, let them 
 resolve to render unto him who gave, the first fruits of their 
 harvest. With the Word of God let them begin, and with 
 the full blessing of the Word of God they shall end. The 
 right understanding, the unreserved acceptance of this, let 
 them ever keep in view; and, looking steadfastly to the end, 
 cheerfully enter upon the labour of detail, accustoming their 
 minds, in all conscientiousness, to that patience which alone 
 can produce a perfect work, or attain a precious object. For 
 without the substantial support of a full body of well-can- 
 vassed facts, reason will decline into barren speculation, 
 imagination will degenerate into idle dreaming. Let theirs 
 be the patience of that wise king of yore, who built the tem- 
 ple of the living God ; and, laying fact upon fact, as it were 
 stone upon stone, let them, like good spiritual masons, grad- 
 ually raise and combine their views, until all shall grow in 
 harmonious proportions of strength and beauty into a goodly 
 temple, aptly fitted together. In such a temple only of the 
 mind will scriptural truth deign to dwell ; and it will dwell, 
 and fill the whole house with the glory of the Lord. 
 
87 
 
 DISSERTATION VI. 
 
 ON SACRIFICE. 
 
 The next day John seeth Jesus coming unto htm, and satth. 
 Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of the 
 world. — John i. 29. 
 
 It is difRcult to conceive how any one, who believes in the 
 atonement of our blessed Saviour, can consider sacrifice to 
 be of any other than divine institution : the Jewish sacrifices, 
 and more especially that of the Lamb, are continually appealed 
 to in the New Testament as foreshadowing the offering of his 
 body upon the cross. But these are but the continuation, 
 under certain qualifications, of a rite which can be traced up 
 to the immediate sons of Adam. Now had it been the inven- 
 tion of Adam, or of these his sons, and had so spread through 
 all their descendants, as to become an universal means of 
 worshipping God, — which last we know to have been the 
 fact, — would God, when he took so much pains to separate 
 the children of Israel from the rest of the world, and keep 
 them far away from the abominations of the Heathen, have 
 maintained among them a rite which, beyond every other, 
 was universally held with the grossest notions, and practised 
 with the vilest abominations 1 Would he, had it contained 
 nothing more than what the carnal mind of man could impart 
 to it, have suffered among his chosen people this stepping- 
 stone to the horrible depravities and uncleanness of the sacri- 
 ficers to Moloch, and to Baal 1 Would he have taken out of 
 the hands of man a rite which his creature had invented under 
 gross conceptions, (for blood-shedding, as conceived by him- 
 self, could not be otherwise,) and abused to his deepest moral 
 degradation ; — would he have adopted this as the vehicle and 
 type of the greatest and purest of moral blessings, even of 
 
88 ON SACRIFICE. 
 
 the atonement of his only begotton son? — or viewing- it even 
 in the highest light which it will thus bear, namely, as an 
 act of will-worship of the first man, conceived in his purest 
 thoughts ; is it consonant with due notions of the Almighty 
 to suppose that God, by a second thought as it were, imparted 
 to this act a meaning which he himself had previously reveal- 
 ed, but without making any provision for thus embodying 
 and continuing it? It must be some strong prejudice indeed 
 which should make us espouse a supposition clogged with 
 such difficulties, and reject one which immediately brings all 
 into harmony. But if we proceed in our examination, we 
 shall see that such a means of worshipping God never could 
 of itself have entered into the minds of the persons who are 
 represented as having first employed it. 
 
 The occasions on w^hich man approaches God, may be re- 
 duced to two : — he comes before him with his offering, either 
 to thank him for past mercies, and to implore their continu- 
 ance, or to ask pardon for past offences, and deprecate pun- 
 ishment. But however we may in thought separate these 
 occasions, yet, in the worship of a fallen creature like man, 
 they must ever be combined ; the offering, therefore, which he 
 brings must be considered in the twofold light of a gift, and 
 a ransom : of a gift, as the natural expression of thanksgiving 
 and homage to him who gave, and can give more, who is the 
 ruler and maker of all things : of a ransom, to him to whom 
 his life hath been forfeited by transgression, to him whose 
 holy nature cannot endure the least unholiness, and who can 
 take away no less than give. Considering it then as a gift, 
 we find it hard to reconcile this meaning with the very inade- 
 quate notions which the first sacrificer (who could not be 
 later than Cain or Abel) must necessarily have had, both 
 with regard to its nature and efficacy ; such a meaning surely 
 supposes a stage of society much advanced beyond his. Let 
 this point, however, be granted ; we have next to ask how 
 he could conceive a slaughtered beast to be a gift? — to us, 
 habituated to animal food, the idea is not so incongruous. 
 But how could men not allowed the use of such food, thus 
 conceive of it ? How could Noah, (to come lower down 
 still,) who offered his sacrifice upon his deliverance, imagine 
 that he was thus presenting a gift? How, when death was 
 an idea so exceedingly abhorrent to the mind of the first sacri- 
 ficer, could he dare in the very first instance to put an animal 
 to death ; much more to present it as an acceptable gift to a 
 
ON SACRIFICE. 89 
 
 being of those attributes which his yet unadulterated creed 
 acknowledged 1 The same objections are fatal to its being 
 considered as a ransom ; and to these we may add the impos- 
 sibility of supposing that a man's reason could induce him to 
 conceive that the life of another could be any substitute for 
 his own, except by express compact between the parties of- 
 fending and offended ; still less could it go a step farther, 
 and make the life of an irrational animal that substitute. 
 
 But if we suppose him to have sacrificed on the express in- 
 junction of God, every thin^ is clear. Humbly acknow- 
 ledging that he had forfeited life and light by his transgression, 
 deeply thankful for God's merciful pardon, he would joyfully 
 accept (although he could not of himself have devised) this 
 lively mode of expressing both his confession and thanks- 
 giving — the more lively from its repugnance to law and feel- 
 ing ; and when once revealed, sacrifice so adapts itself to 
 every turn of man's feelings towards a superior being, that it 
 would survive the wreck of every other portion of God's 
 church. For since the notions formed of God by impure and 
 gross minds, are also gross and impure, the offering of blood 
 and of meats would be a suitable expression of their homage 
 or deprecation to the lustful, capricious, and cruel beings, 
 whom their corrupt imaginations had set upon the throne of 
 heaven. Thus it would be maintained (though under a very 
 different view) no less by the apostate than by the believer, 
 by the Heathen than by the Jew. And its universal preva- 
 lence proves no more, than that it is one of those instances 
 where man can turn to the accouut of his own corrupt pas- 
 sions the will of God, as declared by his revealed word, no 
 less than as expressed by the voice of nature. 
 
 We conclude, therefore, that this prominent feature in 
 God's Church, was expressly ordained by him, who designed 
 from the first to sum up all in Christ (Ephes. i. 10,) both in 
 heaven and in earth, and that any other account of its origin is 
 equally inconsistent with the original notions of man, and with 
 the harmony of divine revelation. 
 
 Hence, sacrifice embodied to man the circumstances of 
 God's first intervention with him after he had sinned ; it was 
 both a history and a prophecy ; it carried him back to a lively 
 view of his fall and condemnation to death ; it carried him 
 forward to a bright prospect of his redemption, both being 
 figured to him by the death of the beast, which was slaugh- 
 tered before his eyes and was accepted by God as an offering; 
 
90 ON SACRIFICE. 
 
 and thus all its applications to outward circumstances, 
 throughout all ages of the church, are referable to two heads. 
 It is on the part of man, the offerer, either a confession of sin, 
 or an oblation of thanksgiving : it is on the part of God, the 
 acceptor, a correspondent remission of the sin, or an accept- 
 ance of the offering, implying a continuance or furtherance 
 of blessings. And as prophecy, in reaching to its grand and 
 final object, becomes applicable upon its way to many subor- 
 dinate objects, so sacrifice (which is indeed a species of 
 prophecy) is applicable to all circumstances which are sub- 
 ordinate to, and contained in, the one great deliverance from 
 everlasting perdition. Accordingly we find, both in the 
 Patriarchal and Jewish Church, sacrifices of propitiation both 
 for moral and bodily impurities, and sacrifices of thanksgiving 
 for any great success or sigaal deliverance ; so Job sacrificed 
 for his sons lest they should have thought evil in their hearts; 
 so Noah sacrificed on his deliverance from the flood. To a 
 mind, steadfast in holy hope, every chance and change of life 
 will serve to bring the great end in view ; and sacrifice, there- 
 fore, will convey the expression of its feelings, be they of 
 abasement or exultation, whether it acknowledge its worthi- 
 ness of condemnation, or its unworthiness of redemption. 
 
 The occasional sacrifices mentioned in the Old Testament, 
 mostly concern, as would be likely from the recorded events 
 which called them forth, the whole Church of God. Such 
 is the sacrifice of Abel, who, although dead, yet speaketh : 
 such is that of Noah, when he re-built the Church of God 
 after the flood : such is that of Solomon, when he dedicated 
 the Temple of God. And since sacrifice was also the cove- 
 nanted channel of communication between God and man, we 
 find that some particular sacrifice forms the link between the 
 successive stages of the church. The offering of Isaac, upon 
 which God promised Abraham a posterity numerous as the 
 stars in heaven or sand on the sea shore, and that in his seed 
 all nations of the earth should be blessed, connects imme- 
 diately the Patriarchal with the Jewish Church, and draws 
 cords of relation to the Christian. . A particular celebration 
 of the Jewish Passover, connects the Jewish with the Chris- 
 tian : for at this our Lord not only instituted the sacrament of 
 his body and blood, which should supersede that Jewish rite, 
 but also, yielding up his breath at the very hour of evening 
 sacrifice, combined the type and the reality, the shadow and 
 the substance, the former and the latter days 
 
ON SACRIFICE. 91 
 
 We have said that sacrifice was prophecy in a bodily- 
 shape : it follows also the same law of expanding clearness 
 of meaning-, by means of narrowing limitation of application, 
 which we saw was observed by the other, in passing through 
 the Jewish dispensation. As a national offering, it was limited 
 to a number of particular cases, each sending forth from many 
 mouths a loud prophetic voice, as the stated daily sacrifice, 
 the Feast of the Passover, the day of atonement. As a pri- 
 vate offering it met a number of stated cases of impurity, 
 which, going to the very bodily condition of the person, even 
 to the meats which he ate, reminded the Jew of his natural 
 unholiness, his conventional holiness. Thus restored to pu- 
 rity, he typified bodily the spirit elect of God, of whom his 
 Son should in the latter days compose his church, having 
 made them clean by the sacrifice of his own body ; and as- 
 suredly this solemn and striking rite, being thrust upon his 
 continual attention, must have prepared the serious thinker to 
 look beyond the letter, and seek for the spirit. It became 
 also still more pointed to its object, by being confined to the 
 tabernacle, and by the varying place of that tabernacle being 
 at last fixed at Jerusalem, after the temple had been built. 
 And just as the promise of the Redeemer was generally nar- 
 rowed from the whole family of mankind, from the seed of 
 Abraham, from that of Isaac, from that of Jacob, from the 
 tribe of Judah down to the house of David ; so, in this analo- 
 gous rite, his representative, the High Priest, was gradually 
 taken from a narrower range, — from the first born of man- 
 kind, from the nation of the Jews, from the tribe of Levi, 
 from the family of Aaron. Thus significantly converging 
 through successive stages from many quarters to one end, 
 sacrifice, receiving its substance in the death of our Redeemer, 
 closed for ever its shadowy representations. 
 
 But as prophecy, though it received its grand fulfilment as 
 far as man looked for, in the coming of the Saviour, Jesus 
 Christ, and had become history, yet took up a new strain at 
 this point, and turned all eyes towards his second coming in 
 glory to judge both the quick and the dead, as the end of all 
 things : so sacrifice, although it received its full accomplish- 
 ment in the death of our Redeemer, by whom it was once 
 offered for the sins of the whole world, past, present, and to 
 come, and therefore, as a rite, is virtually extinct ; yet has 
 had its place supplied in God's church by an ordinance, 
 which is both historically commemorative, and at the same 
 
92 ON SACRIFICE. 
 
 time prophetically assuring. THis is the sacrament of the 
 Lord's supper, in which we not only commemorate his death 
 and passion, but also look forward to his coming- again. And 
 although it be, as we have said, no real sacrifice, yet, inas- 
 much as it is commemorative, and therefore symbolical, of 
 the great sacrifice, inasmuch as the sign is often called by the 
 name of the thing signified, inasmuch as its included offerings 
 of prayer, of repentance, of thanksgiving, of charity, are each 
 of them figuratively designated by this title in Scripture, we 
 may in common language (which is never peculiarly strict) 
 join with the ancient church in calling it by a term, which 
 brings at once so many of its relations to view. On this 
 principle we will now proceed to consider it, ever keeping a 
 watchful eye upon its predecessor. 
 
 First of all, the hideous and appalling representation of 
 death, exhibited to our predecessors in the bleeding, groan- 
 ing, and struggling victim, has been removed from our eyes. 
 Several reasons concur for this, all arising out of the fulfil- 
 ment of the type. For instance ; — the Patriarch and the Jew 
 looked forward to an obscure future; the prospect of their 
 deliverance was dim and distant. They required, therefore, 
 a lively representation to bring it near to their minds ; and as 
 the ceremony was prophetic, it was necessary that it should, 
 at the moment of fulfilment, confirm the truth, by the most 
 startling coincidence of the figure with the reality. But to 
 us, living after the fulfilment, and therefore looking back to 
 one of the clearest and most carefully detailed facts of his- 
 tory, a resemblance so close were unnecessary. It would 
 indeed be more than unnecessary ; it would be inexpedient. 
 For the ceremony, by going so far into reality as actual 
 death, would be too strong an expression of a fact, of which 
 we can form a very lively conception already, and a far more 
 accurate, also, than any which could be suggested by any 
 sensible object. Hence we could not but be struck by some 
 disagreement between the sign and thing signified. At the 
 same time, by going no further than death, it were mutilated 
 and incomplete : it would tell us but half the truth, showing, in- 
 deed, the death for our sins, but not the resurrection for our jus- 
 tification. For us, therefore, it is not only sufficient, but even 
 expedient, that the signs employed in our commemorative rite 
 should be as slight as the mind's ordinary powers can allow, and 
 more especially when these signs have been instituted by the 
 great Offerer himself; since the very circumstance of institution 
 
ON SACRIFICE. 93 
 
 necessarily fixes our attention upon the event commemorated ; 
 therefore the mere pouring- out of wine and breaking of bread, 
 coupled with his charge to continue this commemoration until 
 his coming again, are sufficient to lead our minds to the cru- 
 cifixion of his body, the shedding of his blood, and his second 
 coming in glory to judge both the quick and the dead. But 
 the most important reason of all is the nature of the gospel of 
 Christ. It is the proclamation of pardon to all mankind, — it 
 is the declaration of the perfect love of God, — it is the certi- 
 fication of his wrath appeased, and of his justice satisfied ; it 
 is the announcement of the victory over death, and of the life 
 everlasting. Aptly, therefore, in this rite, has the harsh 
 threat and open rebuke of death (which daily humbled the 
 Patriarch and the Jew), been removed from the eyes of the 
 celebrator. For a frightful scene of gasps, and groans, and 
 bubbling blood, has been substituted a picture of overpower- 
 ing love — a representation of the last supper of our Lord ; 
 meat and drink, emblems of life and joy, are set before us, 
 and both signify and convey to us the nourishment of ever- 
 lasting life, which we have in his body and blood : meat and 
 drink, not supplied from slaughtered fellow-creatures, but be- 
 ing the untortured products of the earth. Thus the very 
 nature of the elements which show our Lord's death, conveys 
 the assurance of the abolition of death to ourselves. 
 
 Secondly : We saw that sacrifice carried the mind of the 
 offerer both backward and forward : backward, by the death 
 of the victim, to the sentence of death at the fall ; forward, by 
 God's acceptance of this substitute, to his restoration. Alas ! 
 through what a long and dreary interval did his eye move to 
 reach this last bright object ! How weary and sickened did 
 his heart arrive at this resting-place ! and, after all, how faint 
 was that brightness, how unstable that resting-place, com- 
 pared with ours. Our rite, too, is both retrospective and 
 prospective. But what is our retrospect 1 not our fall, but 
 our redemption. And what is our prospect 1 not our redemp- 
 tion, but our exaltation to life and light everlasting, at the 
 second coming of our great God and Saviour. We begin 
 with historical certainty of fact, where he ended in prophetic 
 hope : we end with the complete and glorious reversal of the 
 condition of misery and degradation, with which he began. 
 Thus we have a bright and burning light at each extreme of 
 view, and all between is full of joy, and peace, and comfort. 
 " Oh Lord, our Governor ! how excellent is thy name in all 
 i2 
 
94 , ON SACRIFICE. 
 
 the world," exclaimed David, on considering the glory of the 
 heavens : what words would he have found had he been ad- 
 mitted to this our spectacle, and gazed on the spiritual firma- 
 ment which is expanded before our eyes ! 
 
 Thirdly : On the same principle with sacrifice, this rite will 
 be an especial vehicle of confession and of thanksgiving, on 
 the occasion of the various incidents of life. These, be they 
 to our pleasure" or our pain, to our encouragement or chastise- 
 ment, it is our duty to point to the great end of our being, to 
 turn to the account of the life to come. If we suffer, let us 
 take care so to suffer as fellow-sufferers of Christ ; if we be 
 in joy, let us be mindful so to rejoice, as joint-heirs with him 
 in bliss. In either case, this rite, setting forth our Lord's 
 death and passion, and also assuring us of his glorious 
 coming again, will be in exact accord with our hearts, 
 will give them proper vent and due expression, and with its 
 refreshing benefits supply grace for grace ; therefore, in all 
 the grand interventions of life^ hither let us resort, — here let 
 us seek the Lord, and we shall find him. As surely as he 
 performed his promise of meeting his disciples in Galilee, 
 after his resurrection from death, so surely will he meet us 
 here, and give the blessings of his spiritual presence. If God 
 of old chose the hour of sacrifice of bulls and rams, in which 
 to reveal himself, and made gracious promises to Abraham 
 and Zachariah, will he leave this ordinance fruitless, in which 
 we spiritually partake of the sacrifice of the body and blood 
 of his only begotten Son ? Therefore, let him who hath fallen 
 into sickness or trouble, hither repair, to make confession of 
 his sins, and acknowledge God's justice. He will not have 
 come in vain ; he shall have mercy for justice. Let him who 
 hath risen from pain or sorrow, here confess himself less 
 than the least of God's mercies, yield his entire thanks ; neither 
 shall he have come in vain : his hope and his joy shall be 
 chastened into that hope and joy which can never fail. Let 
 those who have lately joined their cares, their joys, their for- 
 tunes, their affections, here make their solemn homage and 
 profession, as heads of a new household in the Church of 
 God ; neither shall they have come in vain : God will give 
 them grace to rear children of grace, and they shall be suc- 
 ceeded by heirs of promise. 
 
 Fourthly : Like sacrifice, and, indeed, every other ordi- 
 nance of worship, this rite will be one of stated times and 
 seasons. Now, if we be bound to repair to it whenever we 
 
ON SACRIFICE. 95 
 
 can, under whatever circumstances of life, since all (we have 
 seen) are peculiarly met with some appropriate blessing, how 
 can we willing-ly absent ourselves on fixed occasions 1 Is it 
 more difficult to prepare a due oblation of our hearts, because 
 we have time at our command 1 Are we less peculiarly cir- 
 cumstanced for the reception of blessings in this sacrament, 
 because we have leisure to review beforehand our whole con- 
 dition, and thus to find out its chief bearing? Does the 
 general benefit of anticipation meet here with its single ex- 
 ception"? are we less prepared when in the enjoyment of 
 health of body and mind, and with days, and even weeks, be- 
 fore' us, than when surprised by sickness and dismay, and 
 obliged desperately to snatch at opportunity, ere it be too 
 late 1 " Three times a year shall thy males appear before 
 me," said the Lord God to the Jews, in giving his ordinances 
 of stern command from the blazing mount ; and, dispersed as 
 they were, they gathered before him from every quarter of the 
 earth. " Do this in remembrance of me," said our Divine 
 Master to his church, in delivering his last charge of love at 
 his last meal. What then ] Are we less bounden than the 
 Jew 1 need we pay less attention because our summons has 
 come more in the form of a request than of a command : be- 
 cause our love is appealed to, and not our fear ; because we 
 are invited as men, and not compelled as children 1 True it 
 is that the request of man may be neglected, because it com- 
 monly implies the want of means of enforcing his will. But 
 the request of God, is an expression of love, and not of weak- 
 ness. It is a commandment, and the most fearful to the dis- 
 obedient of all commandments ; for it appeals not to our 
 carnal man, not to our slavish fear, of pains and penalties : 
 but it is addressed to oar spiritual man, to our love and ea- 
 gerness of obedience, the fruits of that love. If therefore we 
 hear not, where is our spiritual man 1 and then, indeed, where, 
 alas ! are we 1 
 
 This last analogy with sacrifice has now brought me to 
 the practical consideration of this sacrament of God's church ; 
 with this I will proceed. 
 
 Very different indeed from the prevailing notions of the 
 present day, were those which were entertained on this point 
 by the earlier Christians. Let us for a moment suppose one 
 of these hearers of the hearers of our Lord, or even of the 
 hearers of the sixth or eighth succession from them, to arise 
 and take his stand in a church of these times and of this land. 
 
96 ON SACRIFICE. 
 
 Let us endeavour to conceive his feelings on seeing (as we 
 repeatedly see) a whole congregation turn their backs upon 
 the table of the Lord, and thus voluntarily put themselves 
 into a situation, which with him was one of incapacity or de- 
 gradation, reserved for children, for the unbaptized, for the 
 lapsed, for the possessed : on hearing the solitary minister of 
 that table call, with the voice of one crying in the wilder- 
 ness, lost upon stocks and stones : would he deign to ac- 
 knowledge for a portion of Christ's church, that crowd which 
 he saw hurrying through the door, as if escaping from an un- 
 welcome invitation 1 would he condescend to term that a flock 
 of Christ, which he saw refusing the food provided for them 
 by their shepherd 1 He would indignantly deny all fellow- 
 ship with them in Christ; he would assert that they had 
 neither part nor portion with him, — that the memory of his 
 mercies was unpleasing to them, — that they recked not of his 
 body and his blood, — and careless of how he had come, were 
 careless also of how he would come. Were we to ask him, 
 in what company then would he place them, he would unhesi- 
 tatingly answer, in the company of Peter, who denied his 
 master ; in the company of Judas, who quitted that very table 
 to betray him. To any attempt at palliation, he would in- 
 dignantly demand if we held that to forget God is not to have 
 cast him out of mind, — to neglect his injunctions is not to 
 rebel against him, — not to thank him for his blessings is not 
 to slight them, — not to be with him is not to be against him, — 
 not to gather is not to scatter 1 However reproachful this 
 language may appear, no one, who is acquainted with the 
 sentiments of the earlier ages, will assert that it is stronger 
 than such as would rise to the lips, if not pass them, of such 
 a spectator. Custom has reconciled us to the sight, and so 
 it will to that of the most hideous deformities ; they are not 
 the less really hideous notwithstanding. 
 
 After this none will surely find fault with the plain un- 
 compromising language of our church, which so earnestly 
 enjoins her members to repair to the celebration of this rite, 
 and so solemnly warns them when they are come. She uses 
 the language of Scripture, and such language will equally 
 condemn us in carelessly approaching God with private 
 prayer. There, however, neither she nor any other human 
 agent can interfere. There we must be left to our own com- 
 fortable self-delusion, and no words from without can inter- 
 rupt the pleasing dream that we are really praying, when we 
 
ON SACRIFICE. 97 
 
 are neither penitent, nor thankful, nor obedient. But here, in 
 a public ceremony, where her voice must needs be heard, she 
 exhorts and she deprecates in the most earnest terms, and 
 honestly opens the truth, however unpalatable. She is the 
 most anxious and affectionate of mothers. Let us not then 
 complain of her public severity, but rather embrace it as an 
 occasion of inquiring into our private laxity. Let us not, by 
 wilfully mistaking her aifectionate exhortation for stern de- 
 nunciation, be of that company, which, when our Saviour 
 spoke of the eating of his flesh, and drinking of his blood, 
 cried out, " This is a hard saying : who can hear it?" and 
 walked with him no more. 
 
 This rite, my brethren, is a spiritual sacrifice, in which we 
 spiritually celebrate the great sacrifice of our Saviour, once 
 offered upon the cross ; and entering into his sufierings unto 
 death, which are our redemption unto life, we offer up our- 
 selves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy and 
 lively sacrifice unto God. But men cry out here that they 
 are not in a fit state to make use of such strong expressions, 
 they cannot pledge themselves so far, their intentions cannot 
 rise to a mark so high. Let them now consider, to what does 
 all this really amount! Even to this, that their profession 
 of Christianity is but that of the lips, that they will not form 
 a single steady and sincere resolution, and so give God a 
 single pledge that they will ever confess it in their hearts. 
 Have they ever reflected that there is such a thing as apos- 
 tacy, and no less amid the seductions of quiet luxurious 
 times, than amid the compulsion of troublous and necessi- 
 tous 1 Can they imagine, that either in one case or the other 
 they can hold fast the faith of Christ, when they have taken 
 no pains to acquire either knowledge or resolution which shall 
 support them in the day of trial 1 For a real strife after such 
 knowledge and resolution would of necessity bring them to 
 the table of the Lord. But be the world how it will, full of 
 joy or of sorrow, of seduction or of intimidation, the life of 
 the Christian is a scene of continual trial, a long-protracted 
 agony of conflict. Sacrifices are there to be daily offered by 
 him to his Saviour, of pleasure, of comfort, of riches, of 
 power, of affection, of every thing which the world holds 
 precious. And will a single such sacrifice ever be offered by 
 him who will not so much as engage in the shadowy repre- 
 sentation of the great sacrifice I Will he ever suffer for Christ's 
 sake, who will no teven enter upon the bare commemoration 
 
98 ON SACRIFICE. 
 
 of his sufferings 1 Will he ever take up, still more bear, the 
 cross of Christ, who turns away from his table 1 Here, then, 
 my brethren, is a most simple test, and at the same time 
 most effectual. The time is indeed gone by, since this rite 
 has been applied as a test of allegiance to an earthly sovereign. 
 But it will ever remain a test of loyalty to our Heavenly 
 Sovereign ; and disaffection cannot but be most justly im- 
 puted to him who refuses to take it. 
 
 How blissfully, amid all the horrors of the wilderness, 
 amid the conflict of surrounding enemies, could the eye and 
 heart of the pious Israelite repose upon the cloudy pillar of 
 glory, which rested upon the tabernacle. There was peace, 
 there was security, which no power of this world could dis- 
 turb. And although he knew that God was ever nigh unto 
 all them that call upon him, and that no sensible representa- 
 tion could bring him nearer, yet this visible token of his pre- 
 sence, and sign of his covenant, could not but administer 
 continual hope of comfort. And are we, amid the perplexing 
 wilderness of life, amid the weary struggle with foes of body 
 and soul, are we left destitute of similar comfort? Oh no! 
 the same Lord of glory, who exhibited that symbol of his 
 helping presence to the Israelite, hath ordained a resting- 
 place for our spiritual eye. He hath established among us a 
 visible sign, and given us in this rite a palpable assurance, 
 that if we suffer, then we suffer with him who rose again, and 
 ascended to prepare mansions of bliss for his faithful follow- 
 ers ; for if he show us his death, he also foreshows to us his 
 coming again, when all enemies, with their great leaders, sin 
 and death, shall be put under his footstool, and he shall re- 
 ceive his own into everlasting glory. 
 
 Come, then, let us offer our sacrifice, and the greater our 
 health and wealth, so much the more let us repair to its cele- 
 bration : for we have both more to be thankful for, and all our 
 affections and faculties are in their best vigour for God's 
 service. Let us not wait for the desponding, the distracting, 
 the misgiving hour of sickness ; nor let the hour of death 
 so surprise us, as but to leave time for our first and last cele- 
 bration of the Lord's supper, as the only test which, after a 
 life of so many opportunities, we can give of our profession. 
 What were this but the delusion of him who deemed to save 
 his soul by securing his dying limbs in the dress of a monk ? 
 Let us then come to our Lord's table, and bring with us to it 
 a thankful acknowledgment of the high and blessed privi- 
 
ON SACRIFICE. ' 99 
 
 leges of light under which we are invited to it. Consider a 
 moment, my brethren, and look at the patriarch : see with 
 what a vague undefined prospect of the mode of his redemp- 
 toin, he brings his offering to the altar. Look at the Jew : 
 behold how, in despite of the light of his law playing around, 
 of the blaze of prophecy streaming in advance, yet is in igno- 
 rance of the precise events by which his salvation shall be 
 wrought, that he goes up to the altar. And now look at 
 yourselves : with a clear knowledge of the manner of your 
 redemption, of the character of your Redeemer, every ob- 
 ject, every motion, every word in the rite before you, im- 
 plying no obscure future, veiling no promised blessing, but 
 referring you to past events distinctly and minutely made 
 known to you, the blessed effects of which you are now ex- 
 periencing in substance, not anticipating in hope ; the whole 
 scheme of man's restoration being drawn out and laid open 
 before your eyes, your Saviour's express words inviting you; 
 — thus, even thus do ye offer your reasonable, your bloodless 
 sacrifice. Think of this, and compare your situation with 
 that of the most enlightened and illustrious characters under 
 the old covenants. Yea, compare it with that of Noah, when 
 he built anew the church of God, on the renewal of the 
 world after the flood : with that of Abraham offering up his 
 son in a type of that which was to come : with that of David, 
 when he brought up the ark of God into its resting place : 
 with that of Solomon, when he made his royal and costly 
 offerings on the dedication of God's temple : with that of 
 Isaiah, when at sacrifice he beheld the glory of the Lord : 
 with that of Zachariah, when the archangel Gabriel promised 
 a Son, the forerunner of the Redeemer : with that of Simeon, 
 when he offered the sacrifice of the blessed Mary, and held up 
 in his arms the Saviour of the world. All these obtained not 
 the promise, and the least of us in the kingdom of God is 
 greater than them all. They had but the faint glimmer of the 
 broad daylight amidst which we are living. Let us think of 
 these things, and, endeavouring duly to estimate this our pe- 
 culiar blessedness, thankfully dispose our hearts, so to eat of 
 the bread and drink of the cup (which are the body and 
 blood of our Saviour) upon earth, that we may indeed drink 
 of the fruit of the spiritual vine, and eat of the spiritual bread 
 of everlasting life, together with him, new, in the kingdom of 
 God. 
 
100 
 
 DISSERTATION VII. 
 
 ON THE PRIESTHOOD OF THE CHURCH OF GOD. 
 
 Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, con- 
 sider the Apostle and High Priest of our profession, Christ 
 Jesus. — Heb. iii. 1. 
 
 Christ, having been ordained for the salvation of mankind, 
 and, in order to this end, having to reconcile by his mediation 
 two separated parties, must have performed this office under a 
 twofold character, by which he may present himself to either 
 party on the part of the other, — to man on the part of God, to 
 God on the part of man. In the first case, as sent from God, 
 he would proclaim to man God's gracious intention, signify his 
 gracious promise of pardon, and instruct him in the way of ob- 
 taining it. In the second case, he would appear before God 
 with the means of satisfying his justice, and to present to him 
 man's entire repentance, thanks, faith, homage, and submission. 
 To the first of these his human nature was necessary; to the 
 second his divine : the former is the duty of his apostolical 
 character, the latter of his pontifical. Now, since the proper 
 scenes on which these two appear are earth and heaven, he 
 must previously to his advent have discharged the former by 
 deputation : and since man requires a sign to assure him of 
 the discharge of the latter, hence in this also, a representative 
 on earth will be required. We have now to look out for these 
 representatives in the Church of God. 
 
 Adam was evidently such a representative under both 
 heads. As an offerer of sacrifice, he was the pontifical ; as 
 an inspired instructor of his children, he was the apostolical 
 representative. And the same combination will continue 
 throughout^ this stage; since the joint offering of a family 
 cannot be so properly offered by any member as by the fa- 
 
ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 101 
 
 ther, its natural head ; and he is already invested by nature 
 with the apostolical office. Bat in that state of the world, 
 families grew into tribes, and tribes into nations, and the head 
 of the nation would necessarily combine these offices : hence 
 we may also resolve them into three divisions. He would 
 be priest, prophet and king; according to the second and 
 third offices, governing and teaching his people, and being 
 the lineal conservator, if not the deliverer, of the oracles and 
 promises of God. Such was Melchisedec. 
 
 We may here remark the exceedingly high privileges oi 
 the first-born, who was the natural heir not only to temporal, 
 but also to spiritual dignities ; and may estimate the crime of 
 Esau, who was heir not only to what had been transmitted to 
 Adam, but also to additional promises made to his father, and 
 his father's father. 
 
 On coming to the next dispensation, we immediately en- 
 counter its characteristic limitation. As the sacrifice is con- 
 fined to one place, to certain times, to specified sins, so the 
 sacrificer is limited to the first-born of a single family. ^ We 
 also meet with a disruption of the apostolical and pontifical 
 offices, the first being conferred on Moses, the second on 
 Aaron, This was necessary to the more full and perfect de- 
 velopment of each during this stage of preparation and fore- 
 shadowing. There is also a difference in their transmission, 
 the second being entailed on the first-born of Aaron's family, 
 while the first is not confined either to person or family, but 
 distributed among several at the same time, as between Saul 
 the king, and Samuel the prophet ; and indeed Solomon was 
 the last in whom the dignity of rule and gift of prophecy was 
 united. This difference of transmission arose not only from 
 the circumstance of the second being merely passive repre- 
 sentation, and therefore affording no reason for departing 
 from the line of succession ; and of the first being most active 
 exertion, and therefore requiring qualities which could be 
 maintained in a limited succession only by a continual mira- 
 cle ; but it was designed also to narrow the view down to the 
 one only mediator, who, when once come, could never again 
 be represented by human creature ; while in his apostolical 
 character our Lord continued and continues to be represented 
 by a widely spread ministry, deriving commission from him 
 through his apostles. Amidst all his exclusiveness, how- 
 ever, and in the very pages of the book of that law of con- 
 traction and constraint, the Jew was warned of the shadowy 
 K 
 
102 ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 
 
 nature of his priesthood, by the exhibition of that of Melchi- 
 sedec, who there stands without enumeration of ancestors, so 
 necessary to the genuineness of the Aaronic priest ; without 
 time of birth or time of death being stated ; without prede- 
 cessors or successors being specified : and the spiritually 
 minded, no doubt, were instructed by this comparison to 
 expect the passing away of their own priesthood, and look 
 forward to one common to all mankind, and of everlasting 
 duration. 
 
 But now those shadowy priests have all vanished, and 
 their substance is come. The first-born among many brethren, 
 the true priest, the true king, the true prophet, has appeared, 
 hath announced pardon from God, and hath offered the sacri- 
 fice ordained from the beginning of the world. On earth, and 
 for all men, and not in the temple and for the Jews, the great 
 High Priest hath made his offering; and in heaven, and for 
 all men, and not in the holy of holies, and for the Jews, the 
 great High Priest, in virtue of that offering, is standing with 
 his intercession. There is, therefore, no longer, upon earth, 
 a sacrificing priest; consequently, it is only in his apostolical 
 character that our Saviour can have any representative : gene- 
 rally speaking, he is represented by every one in the Chris- 
 tian Church to whom we are bound to pay obedience or reve- 
 rence, since, however nature may have invested them with 
 claims to such, yet they derive a new and higher title from 
 the great head and ruler of all. We must be faithful to our 
 rulers, we must be obedient to our masters, attentive to our 
 teachers, dutiful to our parents, for his sake by whom all 
 these powers are ordained. But more particularly he is re- 
 presented by the spiritual pastors of his church, whose office, 
 since sacrifice has been finished, and the volume of prophecy 
 sealed, is now confined to the spiritual government and in- 
 struction of his church ; they form, therefore, a ministry, and 
 not a priesthood : accordingly, they are never once designated 
 in the New Testament (however they may be in later writers) 
 by the word {hiereys) which signifies a sacrificing priest, but 
 are termed bishops or overseers, presbyters or elders, deacons 
 or ministers. The root of all corruption in the church, has 
 been the blasphemous assumption of the sacrificial and me- 
 diatorial character, by these representatives of but a portion of 
 even the apostolical. 
 
 We will now proceed to examine our own dispensation, un- 
 , der the two heads of its pontifical and apostolical govern 
 ment. 
 
ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 103 
 
 I. The first we have seen to belong to Christ alone ; it has 
 been partly fulfilled upon earth, and is still partly fulfilling in 
 heaven. Let us consider our state in this respect, and com- 
 pare it with that of the Jew, which was one of greater blessed- 
 ness than that of the Patriarch, inasmuch as a written and 
 recorded warrant and promise of God was more satisfactory 
 than one which was merely traditional, and therefore also not 
 so expressly traced to God's command. 
 
 We have seen that Jewish intercession was confined — first, 
 to a certain place ; second, to a certain time ; third, to a cer- 
 tain person ; fourth, to certain sins. 
 
 1. The place was the Jewish temple, a building of stones 
 and timber. Intercession, therefore, was subject to all the 
 external accidents. A conflagration might put an end to it, 
 nor could it be renewed, after such an interruption, without 
 fresh warrant from God. Thus the Jew was in spiritual 
 jeopardy every hour ; he was, indeed, subject to worldly ele- 
 ments; every threat of the Syrian, the Babylonian, the 
 Egyptian, or the Roman, made him tremble, not only for his 
 temporal, but also spiritual welfare. And it required the un- 
 interrupted and stirring song of prophecy to keep his heart 
 above despair, and assure him against the threatening appear- 
 ances around. Now turn from this bondage to our liberty. 
 Our temple is heaven ; there is our High Priest, far beyond the 
 reach of all the powers of earth or of hell ; nay, keeping them 
 in subjection under his feet. Nothing in this world, neither 
 kingdoms, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things upon 
 earth, nor things under the earth, can give us a moment's 
 anxiety. 
 
 2. On incurring any sin or impurity, for which his law had 
 provided atonement by sacrifice, the Jew had all the formal, 
 and (unless resident in Jerusalem) tedious and dilatory pro- 
 cess to go through, of repairing in person to the temple, of 
 instructing the priest with the occasion of his sacrifice, and 
 then of the ceremonial of the sacrifice. Thus innumerable 
 accidents may intervene to deprive him of restoration to his 
 former state, and the whole nation might be deprived of its 
 imputed character of holiness, be degraded from its glorious 
 state of an assembly of priests and kings, by some worldly 
 incident, preventing the annual celebration of the great day of 
 atonement, on which this nation of exclusive holiness and 
 vaunted privileges was summoned as a criminal before the 
 bar of God, and in the very form of absolution underwent all 
 
104 ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 
 
 the solemnities of the -passinff a sentence of death. In every 
 case, private or public, the offender was left in utter helpless- 
 ness during the interval between the commission of the of- 
 fence, and the offering of the sacrifice. No prayer, however 
 humble; no appeal, however earnest, could avail one iota of 
 his contracted uncleanness. For that he must await an ex- 
 ternal rite in the flesh ; his spirit was bound, as it were, to the 
 earth, and was unable to rise until its dull and mortal compa- 
 nion, the body, had gone through certain prescribed forms and 
 motions. Here was rebuke, here was perplexity indeed ; and 
 then how limited in every way was the pardon obtained. It 
 went as far as the prescribed form of words put up by the 
 priest, and no further ; as far as the remission of the particu- 
 lar offence, and no further ; and the continual renewal of sa- 
 crifice was required to meet the continually renewed guilt. 
 The law was, indeed, a schoolmaster to bring unto Christ ; 
 but it was a stern schoolmaster, whose voice never ceased to 
 chide, whose rigour was ever demanding satisfaction. But 
 we are under no schoolmaster, our spirit is under no bondage. 
 Our sacrifice, full, perfect, and sufficient for all the sins of the 
 whole world, past and to come, has been offered once ; and 
 our High Priest's mediation proceeds, from that moment, with 
 unbroken efficacy, to continue until sin with death shall be no 
 more. At every moment, therefore, we can, by appeal to 
 him, obtain the benefits of that sacrifice ; at every moment our 
 spirit can rise in prayer, and procure his intercession. We 
 are released from all bondage of the body ; time, place, and 
 form, can raise no obstruction to us ; we are free, we are spi- 
 ritual. Tied to the bed of sickness, we are not precluded 
 from our temple ; neither prevented from the presence of our 
 priest, who is God over all, blessed for evermore. 
 
 3. Jewish intercession could be made only through a de- 
 scendant of Aaron. Now, though an official succession or 
 men may proceed without interruption, as long as the society 
 or nation in which they are included exists, yet this is far 
 from being the case with family succession, of the termina- 
 tion of which we see instances every day. Here, then, was 
 another point of uncertainty to the Jew. If his temple was 
 brute stones and timber, his priest was frail flesh and blood ; 
 and if the axe and firebrand may destroy the one, the sword 
 or the pestilence may extinguish the other. But this was not 
 all the imperfection. His priest, being sinful man, was in- 
 debted for the efficacy of his intercession to imputed holiness ; 
 
ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 105 
 
 and, therefore, in despite of the express covenant of God to 
 accept such mediation, there would arise most uncomfortable 
 doubts upon the following points. 
 
 1st. Whether he really was in that state of imputed holi- 
 ness which was necessary to the efficacy of his mediation. 
 Through neglect, wilful or unintentional, he might have 
 omitted some ceremony prescribed for this purpose; or may 
 have relapsed into a state of defilement since the performance 
 of those ceremonies. 
 
 2d. Was he well assured that all in the rite itself of the 
 sacrifice was done according to rule ; whether nothing M'as 
 omitted, or admitted, by which the whole proceeding was 
 vitiated 1 The number and minuteness of the ceremonial 
 regulations of his law, could not but subject the Jew to per- 
 plexing questions of this kind. But our High Priest liveth 
 for evermore : he is purity itself, and therefore has no offering 
 to make for his own sins ; he is truth itself, and will therefore 
 sincerely plead : and he is the son of God, and therefore will 
 effectually plead. Nor does this unearthly character preclude 
 us from the assurance of his sympathy, — an assurance so 
 necessary to our confidence in such a mediator ; for he took 
 our nature upon him, suffered temptation, underwent our sor- 
 rows. Thus every opening is closed against doubt, and we 
 may boldly a|)proach the throne of God, confident of the all- 
 sufficiency in every point, and at «very time, of our heavenly 
 and everlasting mediator. 
 
 3d. Jewish intercession w^as applied to particular sins, 
 selected each for a peculiar atonement : and these were rather 
 infirmities than sins, while the greater transgressions were 
 left without the benefit of any rite of absolution. But the 
 pardon procured by the intercession of Christ is not thus 
 confined to any particular infirmity, nor unequal to do away 
 the greater transgressions. It extends to our whole life. 
 Nay, more : it not only annuls the past, but even in the very 
 act creates the future : for with forgiveness for what has been 
 done in sin, it confers the grace to do it in righteousness ; and 
 it fills the mind not only with the lightness of heart arising 
 from the having thrown down a burden, but also with the 
 delight experienced from taking up a gift ; not only with dis- 
 missal of doubt and fear, but with the entertainment of hope 
 and love. Thus its eftbct pervades the whole mind of man, 
 refining his aflections, exalting his thoughts, pacifying the 
 k2 
 
106 ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 
 
 terrors of memory, and presenting views of glory to his fore- 
 sight. 
 
 And now, my brethren, may we not indeed joyfully assent 
 to our Saviour's assertion, " that his burden is light, and his 
 yoke easy ]" On this vital point of mediation, how bound in 
 hand and foot did the Jew approach God's altar"? What a 
 slave indeed was he ! even the most spiritual-minded, they 
 who looked beyond the letter of the law, to whom the law 
 itself furnished elements of thought which carried their minds 
 far beyond its narrow barrier, felt their spirit at every turn 
 opposed by its wall of fleshy ordinances. They were priso- 
 ners in a dungeon, who could overhear the glad sounds of life 
 without, and to whom through its loophole there streamed a 
 ray in tantalizing token of the joyous light around. In all 
 their aspirations they were exalted but to be humbled. After 
 their widest spiritual range, they returned (like runaways to 
 their prison) to the distinction of meats, and all the minute 
 and formal observances which God indeed had imposed, but 
 at the same time had informed them, both by the spirit of the 
 very law which bound them, and by the mouths of his 
 prophets, whom he sent, to be intrinsically unnecessary. 
 Amid the multitude of bulls and rams slain in the temple, 
 their reason informed by God, cried out to them that such 
 brute offerings could not avail to take away sin, and his mes- 
 sengers were exclaiming, " to obey is better than sacrifice, 
 and to hearken than the fat of rams ;" that " the sacrifice of 
 God was a contrite spirit," and demanded whether " God 
 would drink the blood of bulls, and eat the fat of rams." 
 Thus were they daily rebuked, thus straitened, thus imposed 
 with a hard, and, at the same time, unnecessary task. 
 
 What shall we say, then, my brethren, of them who would 
 bring us back into all this jeopardy? And they do bring us 
 back, who invest the human minister of Christ with the 
 mediatorial character; they bring back all the carnal purifi- 
 cations, and all the doubts of efficacy which we saw atten- 
 dant upon Jewish intercession. Let us stand fast in the 
 liberty with which Christ hath made us free, who is our only 
 mediator and advocate, and who hath once and for ever offered 
 the only sacrifice. 
 
 II. Let us now proceed to the apostolical part of our 
 Lord's office in our covenant. As our Lord, though repre- 
 sented in this character by human agents in the two preceding 
 stages, yet did not altogether exclude his own occasional and 
 
ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 107 
 
 particular interference as head of the church, but appeared 
 and directed his deputed ao'ents amid mighty and fearful signs 
 and wonders, so, notwithstanding his appointment of apostles 
 and ministers, he did, in the infancy of the Christian church, 
 which called for especial assistance, manifest his open aiid 
 direct superintendence, as on the day of Pentecost, in the 
 conversion of St. Paul, and other remarkable events of that 
 period. Nor will an attentive and pious mind fail to trace the 
 mighty though secret working of its great superintendent, in 
 the series of events which have befallen his church in later 
 days, however they may assume to a more circumscribed 
 view the shape of effects of ordinary agency ; each single 
 event may appear natural, but the series is miraculous. 
 
 The ordinary charges, however, of government and in- 
 struction, he has deputed to human hands, in analogy with 
 the constitution of human society in general, whose order 
 is maintained by chosen members of itself. These he de- 
 puted to his apostles, and their successors for ever ; first in 
 the commission which he gave to the twelve and the seventy, 
 and finally, in the moment previous to his ascension, in those 
 memorable words, " Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, 
 baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, 
 and of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things 
 whatsoever I have commanded you, and lo ! I am with you, 
 even unto the end of the world." — (Matth. xxviii. 19, 20, 
 To which may be added, Matth. xviii. 18, 19.) 
 
 It is then the prophetical part only (taking that word in its 
 wide sense) of his threefold office, which our Lord has de- 
 puted to the Christian ministry; the strictly prophetic gift, 
 that of foretelling the future, was indeed imparted, but only 
 for a season. There remain the conservation of his oracles, 
 the teaching of his word, and the government of his church, — 
 all three intimately connected indeed, but yet not so entirely, 
 but that one may devolve to an individual in a much larger 
 proportion than the others : for instance, the conservation of 
 his word will require a more deep and extensive learning, 
 than will be called forth by the ordinary duties of teaching 
 it, since it establishes what the other takes for granted, the 
 authority of Scripture, and authenticity of its documents ; 
 while the government of the church again will demand quali- 
 ties, many of which are not required, and the rest necessary 
 but in an inferior degree, to the mere teacher. To these 
 offices God ordained in his church — first, apostles ; secondly, 
 
108 ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 
 
 prophets ; thirdly, teachers ; then, workers of miracles ; after 
 that, gifts of healing, ministers, governors, diversity of 
 tongues. (1 Cor. xii. 28). Into these distinctions it is now 
 unnecessary to enter ; we will proceed, therefore, to consider 
 the Christian minister in the general, and first view him in 
 comparison with the Jewish teacher. 
 
 1. He had a predecessor in the Jewish prophet, in com- 
 mon with whom he has to uphold the honour and glory of 
 God, amid an unbelieving generation. He has to unfold his 
 blessings given and to be given, — to signify his everlasting 
 counsels, — to promise pardon and peace, or to denounce 
 judgment and woe, — to publish unwelcome truths, — to appear 
 before kings and rulers, — to rebuke the impenitent Ahab, — to 
 comfort the pious Hezekiah. But far more excellent than 
 the heralds of the Christ who was coming, is the ambassador 
 of the Christ who is come ; they saw the ray, these beheld 
 the sun ; they preached the hope of things unseen, these an- 
 nounce the substance. They saw in part, and could unfold 
 but in part ; these have the whole scheme of God's redemp- 
 tion gloriously unveiled before them. They sang of him 
 who was to come in the flesh, a man of sorrows ; these tell of 
 him who is to come at the last day in glory to judge the 
 quick and the dead. If the least in the kingdom of heaven 
 be greater than him who was greater than all the prophets 
 before him,* great indeed may we conclude to be the supe- 
 riority of the Christian minister to the Jewish prophet. 
 
 2. Still higher does he stand than the Jewish priest, to 
 whom was committed the teaching of the law of ordinances, 
 the exposition of the letter;! while the unveiling of the 
 spirit was confined to the prophets. Supposing him, there- 
 fore, to act up to the duty of the most faithful expounder of 
 God's word, how narrow after all must have been his views, 
 how timid his exposition. Accustomed himself to officiate in 
 the temple with a number of minutely prescribed ceremonies, 
 and hedged in by the text of the law, which he had to inter- 
 pret every where by positive injunctions, beyond which he 
 dared not enlarge ; can we wonder if he went not beyond the 
 letter wliich killeth, until, like the captive who hugs his 
 chain, he took delight in narrowing to still greater straitness 
 w^hat was so narrow already ; and can we wonder if the peo- 
 ple, amid all their stupid carnality, observed a want of free- 
 
 * Matt. xi. 11. t 2 Chron. xv. S. 
 
ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 109 
 
 dom and authority in this unedifying literality : such was the 
 Scribe, such the Pharisee, who, in addition, by their pre- 
 tended traditions, threw a veil still more thick upon the spirit 
 of the word. At other times, the expounder running into the 
 opposite extreme, escaped from the literality of the text into 
 the wilderness of moral allegory, and despising and despised 
 by the vulgar, left his flock still more unedified than the 
 former : such was the Sadducee. But the Christian minister 
 has to expound the liberty of the spirit, and not the slavery of 
 the letter ; the spirit of the Gospel, not the letter of the law : 
 for prescribed and outward observances, he has to inculcate 
 inward and essential principles ; for formal ethical precepts, he 
 has to infuse energetic spiritual motions. The volume which 
 he interprets, gives his spirit unbounded range ; day after day it 
 may feed in fresh pastures, drink from fresh streams, nor can 
 it visit, to his life's end, more than a small portion of the re- 
 gions open to its excursions : unfettered by distinctions of 
 meat, ablutions of the body, sacrifices of brutes, observance 
 of carnal forms and prescriptions ; free from such a body of 
 death, it expatiates over the boundless prospect of the life to 
 come ; gazing on the mighty works of its Master and Creator 
 in the spiritual world, — on his conquest over sin and death, — 
 on the assurance of pardon and peace, — on the sanctifying 
 graces of the Holy Spirit, — on the life everlasting. His un- 
 derstanding is in no danger of being led captive by a round of 
 formal duties ; for he officiates after no mechanical formulary, 
 he is engaged in no dull handling of earthly elements. The 
 vessels about which he is concerned are living spirits, vessels 
 of the Holy Ghost : the vestments about which he must be 
 careful, are the robes of righteousness : the washings with 
 which he has to do, is the laver of regeneration, and the 
 washing away the filth of a bad conscience : the leprosy on 
 which he has to pronounce, is the leprosy of sin in the soul : 
 the temple in which he ministers, is the church of God, — no 
 building of stones and timber, but an assembly of living spi- 
 rits : the altar at which he ministers, is not made of earth, 
 but is spiritual, set up in the heart of the spiritual man : the 
 sacrifice which he offers, is no shedding of the blood of bulls 
 and goats, but is the communion of the body and blood of 
 Christ, taken to the soal with praise and thanksgiving. The 
 knowledge required by his office, is no minute and barren in- 
 formation on rites and ceremonies, it is the knowledge of the 
 heart of man, and of the spirit of God : of the heart of man, in 
 
110 ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 
 
 order to detect all its winding's and turnings, and so dispel all 
 its delusions and perverseness, and for which purpose is de- 
 manded the constant watching* of his own : of the spirit of 
 God, in order to be able faithfully to unfold his will and coun- 
 sel, for which purpose he must diligently search the Scrip- 
 tures in study, in meditation, and in prayer. All the duties, 
 including even the teaching of the Jewish priest, were con- 
 fined to the temple, and these in fit analogy with his temporal 
 covenant, were but for a season : on the expiration of his 
 course, he returned to his proper city, to a life of religious 
 ease and calm. But the house of prayer contains but a frag- 
 ment of the services of the Christian minister. His commis- 
 sion comes direct from heaven, and not from Mount Sinai ; 
 and the only temple which includes his possible duties is the 
 wide earth. He preaches the covenant made with all man- 
 kind, and not with Abraham only ; and deputed by the great 
 Melchisedec, has his charge open to every tribe and nation. 
 His commission is to " go, teach all nations." He blows a 
 trumpet not on Sion only, but in the whole earth, and pro- 
 claims to all mankind the acceptable year, the last jubilee. 
 
 Such is the minister of the Gcspel, compared with the 
 minister of the law. And if deep responsibility confer honour, 
 if the alternative of the highest crown of reward, or lowest 
 degradation of punishment bestow importance, then indeed is 
 the former character one of exceeding dignity : but it is a 
 dignity under which man will tremble, and not triumph ; will 
 humble himself, and not exalt. He is not a master amid his 
 brethren, but a spiritual servant, to diligently watch and pro- 
 vide for their wants, and be within the continual call of their 
 spiritual necessities. The greater his talents the more ex- 
 tensive is the service which he is bound to yield; and he 
 must put the whole man, in body, soul, and mind, to the 
 work ; adding to faith diligence, and to dilio-ence knowledgre ; 
 
 Till ^ O' 
 
 so that by labouring for the salvation of others, he even thus 
 strives to attain his own. His very growth in usefulness and 
 diligence will also increase his growth in humility and lowli- 
 ness of spirit, since his sphere of duty thus enlarged brings 
 into view more and more to be done, and makes what is done 
 appear more and more inadequate to that which ought to be 
 done. Well may he exclaim, in the words of the apostle, 
 "Wlio is sufhcient?" (2 Cor. ii. 16,) many and manifold 
 are the tempers and qualities which he must bring to liis 
 work. He is a soldier ever engaged in a spiritual warfare ; 
 
ON THE PRIESTHOOD. Ill 
 
 yea, and a captain in that warfare. He must have unwearied 
 circumspection ; be ready against open attack, watchful against 
 secret assault, set the first and best examples of patience and 
 hardihood, perseverance and courage, and guide and sustain 
 all committed to his charge, in every trial of weariness, of 
 famine, of the sword. Then again, he is a shepherd, whose 
 flock is feeding far and wide, over which he must watch by 
 day, that is, in easy times, lest they extend their pasture into 
 the wilderness, and be lost ; and which he must gather care- 
 fully by night, when times of difficulty are come, and watch 
 lest the wolf assail the fold. He is a husbandman also, 
 whom God hath put into his vineyard, where he must labour 
 diligently ; digging, watering, and dressing, that his master 
 may receive fruit plentifully. He is a builder, too, a builder 
 of God's temple, of his holy church ; of which he must study 
 well the plan, must accurately acquaint himself with it, put- 
 ting into practice all his knowledge, judgment, and charity, 
 so that he may build in unison, finish his portion in harmony 
 with the glorious v/hole ; working, as he does, in co-operation 
 with builders of different quarters of the earth, of different 
 ages ; with builders of this world, with builders of the world 
 to come. He is a fisher too, but a fisher of men, whom he 
 must gather into the ship of salvation from the depths of sin 
 and corruption ; and must fearlessly pursue his occupation by 
 day and by night, be the waters of the world troubled or still, 
 reckless of its monsters below, unappalled by its pirates 
 above. When engaged on shore, it will be in mending his 
 nets, that is, in repairing his shaken fortitude, his fainting 
 perseverance, his failing powers of persuasion, his exhausted 
 knowledge. Again we may exclaim, " Who is sufficient ?" 
 not the will of man, but the grace of God. 
 
 Thus have I endeavoured, to the best of my power, to draw 
 out before you, in pursuance of my plan, a sketch of the priest- 
 hood of the Church of God, and especially, by a comparison 
 of the Christian priesthood with such as preceded it, to show 
 how blessed are we in having been planted in the church of 
 the latter days. In this, as in the former respects, it main- 
 tains its striking superiority: we are brought nearer to the 
 Father of Spirits, and endued with far higher graces, and 
 more lofty privileges. In our blessed Saviour, — having died 
 for our sins, and risen again for our justification, — we have a 
 priesthood, through whom we confidently approach the throne 
 of grace and mercy ; not with the timid crouching of the par- 
 
112 ON THE PRIESTHOOD. 
 
 doned slave, but with the generous openness of the accepted 
 son. And in his deputed ministers we have guides and in- 
 structors on the road of salvation, whom he hath endued with 
 powers and opportunities for their charge, such as were never 
 committed to human hands before. Not a single want is left 
 unsatisfied : we are a people fully equipped, furnished for our 
 journey with all appliances. Our march through this wilder- 
 ness of the world is supplied with spiritual manna from hea- 
 ven ; our steps, through this darkness of sin and woe, are 
 directed by a spiritual fire. Let us not provoke God by in- 
 gratitude, and fall in the wilderness ; but strive to enter the 
 promised land, which Israel won only in the flesh, but which 
 awaits the faithful Christian in the spirit. 
 
113» 
 
 DISSERTATION VIII. 
 
 ON PRAYER. 
 
 Unto him that hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in 
 his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God, 
 and his Father : to him be glory and dominion for ever and 
 ever. — Rev. i. 5, 6. 
 
 In this passage, and in two others in the New Testament, 
 (Rev. V. 9, 10 ; 1 Pet. ii. 5, 9,) Christians are termed priests : 
 we shall understand the application of this term by attending 
 to the following considerations : 
 
 I. The word here translated priest, is not presbyter, but 
 means a sacrificing priest. But such' a priest, with the ex- 
 ception of our Saviour, does not exist in the Christian Church, 
 still less can the term be applied to Christians in general ; it 
 is, therefore, figurative, as the word "kings" obviously is. 
 
 II. The figurative sense is clearly determined : first, from 
 a parallel passage in the Old Testament, (Exod. xix. 6,) 
 where God says to the Jews, " Ye shall be unto me a king- 
 dom of priests, and a holy nation," Now to the Jew, having 
 an established priesthood, the term, thus applied, was clearly 
 metaphorical ; and, familiar as it was, would convey the no- 
 tion of selection, consecration, sacrifice. With regard to the 
 first and second, every Jew was a figurative priest, from his 
 selection from the rest of the Avorld, and by the imputed holi- 
 ness consequent on this selection ; of this he was put in mind 
 by the numerous ordinances to remedy uncleanness, both in 
 individuals and the whole nation, by which he was rendered 
 fit to appear before God, just as his real priest was qualified 
 for his duties by purifications. With regard to his sacrifice, 
 we have only to see to what things Scripture applies this 
 figure ; and on turning over its pages we find mention of the 
 
 XJ 
 
114 ON PRAYEE- 
 
 sacrifice of praise,* of thanksgiving-,!- of repentance,^ of 
 rigliteousness,!] of charity ;§ and as all these, outwardly and 
 inwardly, are comprised in praj^-er, in which we peculiarly 
 make an oifering of our thoughts and deeds, our souls and 
 bodies, to God, we may understand, in one word, prayer to 
 be this figurative sacrifice. 
 
 What w^as applicable to the Jew, is, of course, still more so 
 to the Christian, who is also selected from the rest of the 
 w^orld, (Rom. xii. 1, 2,) has been washed and consecrated in 
 the laver of regeneration, which confers purity by virtue of 
 the sacrifice of Christ ; even as the prescribed sacrifices of 
 purification, and especially that of the day of atonement, ob- 
 tained it for the Jew. This is the consecration by Mhich he 
 ministers, and in all the above-mentioned passages of the New 
 Testament, our spiritual priesthood is mentioned as a conse- 
 quence of our Redeemer's sacrifice. We are " a holy priest- 
 hood," says St. Peter, "to offer up spiritual sacrifices accept- 
 able to God, through Jesus Christ." And our sacrifice, as in 
 the case of the Jew, will be prayer, proceeding from unfeigned 
 lips, and from a clean conscience. And this our daily sacri- 
 fice has the same relation to the sacrifice of Christ, as our 
 figurative priesthood to his real. In the offering of the one 
 we obtain the benefit of his sacrifice, in the character of the 
 other we gain the intercession of his priesthood. 
 
 And now, is it not grievous to think, my brethren, that, 
 while prayer is ascending every day from millions of bosoms, 
 so few, comparatively, should be qualified to offer it 1 All 
 are not within the covenant of Christ; therefore, they cannot 
 be spiritual priests. They have had no consecration, they 
 stand not within the temple, which is the Church of Christ. 
 But of those who do stand within the temple, are all indeed 
 qualified 1 Are they truly thankful, truly penitent, truly re- 
 solved upon holiness of life; truly impressed with the efficacy 
 of the intercession of the great High Priest] With such a 
 mind must they come, in such robes must they minister, 
 such incense must they burn, such sacrifice must they offer. 
 This most important duty of prayer, this high privilege of 
 the church of God, it is now my intention to discuss; and 
 before proceeding after my plan, to compare the different 
 
 *ncbr. xiii. 15. f Jer. xxxiii. 11. :{: Ps. xxii. 17. 
 
 II Ps: iv. 5. § Phil. iv. 18. 
 
ON PRAYER. 115 
 
 Stages of that church under this head, I will pause to explain 
 more exactly its nature. 
 
 As in sacrifice the victim became peculiarly the property 
 of God, so in the sacrifice of prayer we peculiarly abstract 
 our spirit from the world, and yield it up to God; and we 
 may define prayer to be the communion of our souls with 
 God, by the lifting- up of our hearts, either with the words of 
 the lips, or in the aspirations of silence. And as com- 
 munion with God is the great end of our being, it is plain 
 that to this act we must bring the whole man, with all his 
 gifts, helps, knowledge, faculties, and privileges. This act, 
 therefore, is the putting forth of our powers of the spiritual 
 life, of which we are then conscious, in the same way as we 
 are of our mental, when we task our memory, or exercise 
 our reflection ; as we are of our bodily, when we move a hand 
 or foot. We are then, and only then, in the full enjoyment 
 of all our blissful powers of existence. All the rest of our 
 time is like the rest and the sleep, so necessary to our im- 
 perfect frame of body and mind. And if, in the body, our 
 waking hours influence our sleep, furnishing the mind with 
 its peculiar train of dreaming thought, shall not these waking 
 hours of our spirit influence the rest of our life ? What trains 
 of glorious and blessed meditation shall they not leave be- 
 hind! Into what an excellent arrangement of high and 
 solemn thought shall they not have framed the mind, which, 
 when shut out from this its more immediate connexion with 
 the world of spirits, may, in the dream of earthly life, retain 
 and feed upon its waking recollections. Oh ! sluggard, in- 
 deed, is he, who is unwilling to awake to so glorious a day ! 
 
 This communion with God implies, of course, the unre- 
 served opening of our hearts to him. If a single cell be kept 
 closed, it is a wall of partition between us. Then it is, there- 
 fore, that we ascertain whereabouts we are amid the wide re- 
 gions of existence ; then we try and search our spirit ; then we 
 sound the depth of our affections ; then, like blossoms to the 
 sun, we put forth all our understanding, all our imagination, 
 all our memory, — exercise all the prerogatives given us above 
 the rest of the tribes of creation, as being formed in the image 
 of God. Then, therefore, it is, that coming to a full know- 
 ledge of ourselves, and having our faculties quickened, we 
 acutely discern and condemn our unholiness and infirmities ; 
 then we acknowledge and confess our unworthiness ; and 
 then we perceive distinctly the unbounded mercies of God, 
 
116 ON PRAYER. 
 
 and rise from fear, and sorrow, and doubt, — to hope, and love, 
 and joy. Then our connexion with the world to come, our 
 prize of immortality, is distinctly assured. Then is a conver- 
 sation going on between us and our God, between the creator 
 and the thing created, between the giver and the receiver, be- 
 tween immortality and mortality ; and as the one opens his 
 bosom, the other pours forth his treasure into it ; as the one 
 offers homage and allegiance, the other dispenses his royal 
 bounties. Such communion have we with God, through our 
 high priest, Jesus Christ, being consecrated priests for that 
 purpose by his sacrifice; and such, in the prospective \irtue 
 of that sacrifice, and through the medium of representation, 
 had the Jew. 
 
 Prayer consists of confession of sin, of thanksgiving for 
 mercies, of petition for either the continuance or increase of 
 blessings, of deprecation for the removal or assuagement of 
 afflictions. These last depend entirely for their success on 
 the sincerity of the two first, and obtain it immediately, or at 
 a distance, according to circumstances. In many cases, and 
 those the most important, by God's blessed economy, the 
 very act of prayer obtains the petition. The mind is brought, 
 by praying, further and further into a state of spiritual bless- 
 edness, until, at length, the utterance of the lips, entreating 
 comfort and deliverance from temptation, becomes rather the 
 expression of the heart, which at that moment has found what, 
 a moment before, it had not, than of a sense of its destitution. 
 For we are then in God's temple ; priests ministering at liis 
 altar, with eyes and ears intent upon our duty. The noisy 
 w^orld is shut out, and its affliction cannot reach him whose 
 mind is thus excluded, and in a state of bliss and unchange- 
 ableness. Temptation dares not, any more than its evil 
 author, intrude before the presence of God. Other objects of 
 prayer will require time, because they admit of degrees of 
 perfection, and can come but by repeated prayer. Such are 
 a certain amount of grace, of knowledge, of wisdom ; a por- 
 tion of which, insensible, perhaps, at the time, is imparted at 
 every earnest prayer : and if we have faith and patience to 
 persevere to the end, we shall obtain more than we, in the 
 first instance, imagined to desire ; while one desire, satisfied, 
 will awake another to be satisfied, and improvement lead on 
 to more improvement. Others, again, as most temporal ob- 
 jects, must be prayed for in such a manner as must interpose 
 delay. We are bidden to ask the greater, in order to obtain 
 
ox Pr.AYER. 117 
 
 the less ; the heavenly, in order to obtain the earthly. Thus 
 they will seldom come immediate or singular, but in their ap- 
 propriate season, and with their due concomitants. For ex- 
 ample, in asking for length of life, our prayer will not be 
 directed to the longer enjoyment of it, but to our being enabled 
 to bring to a ripe conclusion the great work of life, — our own 
 sanctification. If we ask for fruitful seasons, we shall not 
 have in our minds the luxurious ease and plenty which they 
 supply; but the peace, the charity, the holy leisure, the 
 thankfulness, and dedication of heart to God, in all hope 
 and joy, which they are apt to dilTuse among us. If we ask 
 for peace, then the peace of our particular time and nation 
 will come included under the peace of the reign of the prince 
 of peace, when not only the body, but the spirit too, shall 
 have peace. If we entreat for relations and friends, it will be 
 for them as intimate fellow-members of Christ's church, and, 
 therefore, for their spiritual health and wealth, in the train of 
 which their temporal shall follow also. Thus we shall, in 
 all things, obey our Lord's charge, " to pray first for the king- 
 dom of God, and his righteousness;" and we shall reap his 
 promise also, and find all corresponding temporal blessings 
 added unto them. 
 
 According, to the view which w^e have taken, prayer is a 
 special privilege accorded to men by express revelation. This 
 will further appear if we consider the requisites to its efiicacy. 
 
 I. It requires a special promise on the part of God to hear 
 it, and a knowledge of his attributes by which to shape it. 
 To prove this we have only to turn to those among the 
 heathen, whose very investigations into the natures of God 
 and man, led them to conclude the inefficacy of prayer, when 
 addressed to the supreme God, and to betake themselves to 
 the gods of their country as mediators between him and them. 
 The notion which they had formed of him being derived from 
 a severe process of abstraction from every thing human, eleva- 
 ted indeed the understanding, but repelled the feelings. There 
 was nothing in their notion of him to which they could plead. 
 If he was almighty and all-wise, he was also passionless and 
 unchangeable. Hence the philosopher contented himself with 
 the conception of this being. 
 
 II. As pra5''er is the opening of the heart to God, telling 
 out its hopes and fears, these must have some object presented 
 by God ; for the telling out of hopes and fears on purely 
 worldly matters, is unworthy the name. But how, without 
 
 L 2 
 
118 ON PRAYER. 
 
 revelation, shall man have these spiritual ohjects] Another 
 life must he revealed, fororiveness of sins must be revealed. 
 These hold out the only lasting objects of hope and fear to the 
 human mind ; nor without the knowledge of these has he 
 either the wish or the permission to approach with prayer, 
 properly so called. 
 
 III. The mind must have some manifest acts or words of 
 God upon which to plead, some embodying, as it were, of his 
 abstract attributes : the world indeed is full of his wondrous 
 works, but yet, as we know from tbe case of the heathen, they 
 do not come home to men's minds in that individual shape 
 which alone can interest them. They seem, also, matters of 
 course, and may, as far as they know, administer to other 
 beings specially, to themselves but accidentally. They are, 
 too, as far as they affect them, but of the present hour. Now 
 to their view whom he hath called by revelation, he has 
 proposed mighty deeds of the past, wrought in especial in- 
 terventions ; and again, by means of prophecy, fixed their 
 eyes on glorious works of mercy to come : so that wherever 
 in time the mind may place itself, — in past, present, or future, 
 — the sight is full of objects displaying, and particularly di- 
 recting upon the beholder himself, the wisdom, the goodness, 
 and the power of God ; not in abstract, but in substance. 
 
 Let us now proceed to examine the comparative advantages 
 of the Patriarch, Jew, and Christian. The Patriarch had 
 Paradise, mouth of Adam an account of the blissful days of 
 from the and of the intervention of God at the fall ; he had 
 also, from the same source, the prophecy announcing his 
 restoration, so that his retrospect and prospect was bright 
 with heart-stirring operations of God in his especial behalf; 
 and these imparted their appropriate colour to the present and 
 ordinary works of God lying before his eyes. Thus his mat- 
 ter was abundant; his heart had sufficient upon which to 
 plead. 
 
 But comparatively with the Jew, he was distant indeed. 
 This favoured worshipper could call upon the Almighty as 
 having announced himself the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and 
 of Jacob, his fathers. God had intervened, by a long series 
 of most signal and glorious mercies, and held up to his eyes a 
 long and burning train of prophecy, growing more specific 
 every day. The very land in which he was living, was a 
 testimony and pledge of his peculiar mercy and love; and all 
 the temporal blessings which it afforded him, came thus 
 
ON PLAYER. 119 
 
 specially from God's hands, and mingled harmoniously with 
 the great mass of spiritual mercies, past and to come. He 
 was a priest indeed, with innumerable offerings to lay upon 
 God's altar ; the dedicatory sacrifice of Solomon did not 
 more exceed in magnificence that of Abel, than the spiritual 
 sacrifice of the Jew, considered under the head of matter for 
 prayer, did that of the patriarch. How beautiful, how glo- 
 rious are his prayers; the great body of them is still put up 
 by the church of God, which is still in the enjoyment of his 
 blessings. 
 
 But how distant indeed was he compared with the Chris- 
 tian ; the Christian has all the glorious past, present, and 
 future of the Jew in retrospect. But above all, God has 
 appeared to him not through angels, not from Mount Sinai, 
 but in human flesh, in domestic life. The Christian can ap- 
 peal to him on human attributes, on tbe love which he himself 
 entertains ; on the mercy which he himself shows ; on the 
 justice which he himself administers. He can appeal to one 
 who has called himself not the God of his fathers, but his 
 brother ; so that our High Priest mediates not only directly 
 and officially by his human nature, but also incidentally and 
 instrumentally by his human qualities ; by means of which 
 we can feel ourselves one with him who is one with the 
 Father. Our retrospect, in addition to the Jewish, is his in- 
 carnation and whole sojourn on earth; his crucifixion, resur- 
 rection, and ascension. Our present view is his sitting at the 
 right hand of God in mediation for us, together with all the 
 gifts pouring down on us in his name ; our prospect is his 
 coming again in judgment, and the life everlasting, when all 
 his glorious promises, still due, shall have been fulfilled. 
 Priests, spiritual priests indeed are we, rich beyond all telling 
 in the abundance of offerings for our sacrifice ; and we have 
 received a fresh and special ordination from God in those 
 words, (Job xvi. 23), " Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father 
 in my name, he shall give it you." In addition to all this, 
 he has provided us one whose help shall never fail to make 
 our sacrifice perfect, the advocacy of the Holy Spirit, which 
 intercedeth for us with groans which cannot be uttered. 
 
 To illustrate by example this our blessed superiority, let 
 us take up the most fervent, the most explicit of such Jewish 
 praj'^ers as are still at this very day used by the church of 
 Christ; and let us, if possible, divest ourselves, during the 
 perusal, of our Christian associations. Let what was dark 
 
120 ON rRAfER. 
 
 to the Jew, be dark to us ; let the great Redeemer be ob- 
 scurely future, and not gloriously come. Do we not appear 
 far away, even where the Jew felt himself to be most near 1 
 Now let us take up the prayer again with our eyes open, and 
 our heart quick to all our spiritual happiness ; read it, and 
 then close with the words, " through Jesus Christ our Lord 
 and Saviour." Are we not brought near at once, taken up like 
 Elijah from earth, caught up like the apostle to the third 
 heaven 1 Here is indeed one great reason, exclusive of the 
 intrinsic merits of the hymns, why the Christian church has 
 retained so much of the praise and prayer of the Jewish. To 
 all who are diligent to understand, it carries back the thoughts 
 to the glorious train of mercies by which God prepared the 
 way of our dispensation, reminds us of our eminently supe- 
 rior privileges, and every expression comes to the heart with 
 a sense of glorious prophecy most gloriously fulfilled, and 
 with the consciousness of ourselves being the blissful enjoy- 
 ers of the fulfilment. 
 
 Such being our means, let us examine oar duty on the 
 head of prayer, which we shall distinguish into private and 
 public. 
 
 Most of what may be said (on the first especially) has 
 been already anticipated. We have been both commanded 
 and invited to pray. Prayer is to us the only channel of 
 communication with God, — the only duty in which we point- 
 edly fulfil the purpose of our being, — the only acknowledged 
 vehicle of his gifts, — the only refuge from a corrupt and 
 troublous world. Without it the word of God, sown by his 
 teachers, has no ground in the heart wherein to take root ; 
 without it we are mere animals, beasts of the earth, creatures 
 of rapine and prey. 
 
 The transition to the consideration of the objects of public 
 prayer, is short and easy, from some principal duties of pri- 
 vate. In his private petitions, the individual must never for- 
 get that he is one of many, a member of a body, through the 
 head of which he has access to the throne of grace and 
 mercy. He is bound to many brethren in the unity of one 
 altar, one faith, one baptism ; so that his prayers must be 
 directed to their welfare as to a part of his own, and even 
 the most special and private part of his devotions cannot 
 leave his neighbour out of all consideration. To them his 
 conduct for good or bad can never be indifferent^ bodily or 
 morally ; and therefore his petitions for grace to amend his 
 
ON PRAYER. 121 
 
 life before God, will include the desire of avoiding of- 
 fence before men; with the earnest wish to build up his fel- 
 lows in redemption, so that every thing which he may think, 
 say or do, may tend to the glory of God and his Saviour Jesus 
 Christ. Here then is a close, indissoluble bond between 
 private and public prayer. Private must proceed upon the 
 understanding that its offerer is a member of a society, and 
 to this society he cannot be counted to belong, if he shun its 
 assemblies. He cannot put up petitions for the brethren in 
 spirit, if he avoids their spiritual communion. This would 
 be like thinking to love God whom he hath not seen, and 
 hating his brother whom he hath seen. Both modes of 
 prayer are necessary from the very constitution of our nature 
 as social beings, both are imposed by Christ's ordinance, 
 both are blessed with his promise. Just as the Jewish priest 
 united his public and private devotions, and offiered first for 
 himself, and then for the people ; so closely united must the 
 truly spiritual priest maintain his private and public offices, 
 nor deem that one will be accepted when the other is ne- 
 glected. If he unite not the two, he is no priest ; he has no 
 altar, no sacrifice, no temple. 
 
 To be in communion, therefore, with the invisible church, 
 we must be in communion with the visible ; to be in com- 
 munion with Jesus Christ its great head, with all the angelic 
 host of heaven, with the spirits of just men made perfect, we 
 must also be in communion with the brethren who are la- 
 bouring together with ourselves in the infirmities of the flesh, 
 and looking for help to the same Redeemer. 
 
 For this assembling ourselves together we have the special 
 promise of our Lord, that where two or three are met together 
 in his name, there is he in the midst of them; and for ne- 
 glecting such assembling, we have his threats of casting us 
 out of his church; for in his Epistle to the Hebrews, the 
 apostle of Christ strictly charges them not to neglect the as- 
 sembling of themselves, and proceeds to show that such ne- 
 glect is the commencement of an apostacy, after which there 
 remaineth no more sacrifice for sin. Now, he is writing to 
 persons M-ho were in danger of this sin from the violence of 
 persecution without. Will it be more excusable in us, who 
 commit it from inward choice 1 In them the spirit was will- 
 ing, but the flesh weak ; in us not even the spirit will be 
 willing, and the flesh will be proud and rebellious. They 
 
122 ON PRAYER. 
 
 would err from severe compulsion of pain ; we from mere 
 recklessness and wantonness of ease. 
 
 The benefits of public prayer may be discussed as received 
 through the outward, and through the inward, senses. 
 
 Much indeed comes through the outward. Not derived 
 from the beauty and magnificence of the temple ; not from 
 showy pomp of ceremonial ; not from charms of song and 
 music, and other stimulants to the dull senses, which rouse 
 them indeed to a certain degree, but often prevent them effect- 
 ually from rising higher, by constantly rivetting the attention, 
 and intruding objects of the senses on the moments of ab- 
 straction, — the sights and sounds of earth on the contempla- 
 tion of heaven, flesh upon spirit. But that which delights 
 and teaches the eyes, is the sight of Christ's flock; that 
 which charms and instructs the ears, is the sound of joint 
 prayer. When we thus join ourselves in uniformity and 
 equality of prayer, all of different stations, different pursuits, 
 different dispositions, different ages, — the rich and the poor, 
 the merchant and the husbandman, the wise and the weak, 
 the healthy and the infirm, the young and the old, — what a 
 varied family does that of Christ appear; how manifold are 
 our wants, and how surpassingly great his power and loving- 
 kindness who undertakes to supply them all, — who sheds 
 upon each of them his appropriate gift, and they all, in dif- 
 ferent tongues, as it were, tell out the mighty works of God. 
 And when in despite of all the obvious differences in the 
 flesh, we find ourselves, by the very act of our meeting, all 
 equal and alike before the throne of God, what should we 
 reckon of such differences, but as mere accidents, utterly 
 inessential to our real nature? If God, who made us, and 
 knows our nature to its inmost recesses, regard them not, 
 why shall we so painfully attend to them? Such differences, 
 however, will act still more beneficially, if they act but as 
 outward fleshly signs, to lead us to think of most important 
 inward spiritual differences ; of growth or diminution of grace, 
 of wealth, of poverty, of spiritual knowledge, of performance 
 or neglect of God's will, of the understanding or ignorance 
 of his word, of the subjection or dominion of the flesh, of 
 the willingness or reluctance of the spirit. These distinctions 
 are indeed essentials, and no accidents. On either consider- 
 ation, the world and its code is set aside ; and faith and hope 
 and charity bring together, whom its fraud, its hatred, and 
 
ON PRAYER. 123 
 
 violence, would fain keep asunder. Here, therefore, all 
 boasting of the flesh is humbled, all meekness of spirit is 
 exalted. With regard to the inward, as the very sight of 
 assembled men is deliohtful to him who has been long soli- 
 tary, so is the joining of our spirits in prayer to each one 
 after an interval of lonely meditation and prayer. We refresh 
 ourselves, as it were, with conversation, and with the exercise 
 of our social faculties after seclusion, and the exclusive 
 indulgence of our individual. And assuredly, if interchange 
 of thought, mutual converse and debate, the participation of 
 pleasure and instruction, the imparting of advice and comfort, 
 form the essentials of worldly conversations, — so do the 
 conscious expression of mutual wants, confession of common 
 sins, partaking of common forgiveness, consolation, and 
 peace, give its value and character to our spiritual conver- 
 sation. Such conversation is that which pervades the society 
 of the church of Christ, at those seasons when it assembles 
 as distinctly such, as having separated itself from the world 
 and its lusts and cares, and thus put itself into exclusive 
 unison with its head, forsaking all for Him, and anticipating 
 its future blissful estate, when, without a spot or wrinkle on 
 her garments, she shall be united a glorious bride to the 
 heavenly bridegroom, never-to be put asunder. At her time 
 of public prayer alone can she enj oy an unmixed foretaste of 
 her future bliss and peace; at that time alone can each of 
 her members be certain of enjoying spiritual fellowship with 
 his brethren of the life to come. Then all the hindrances 
 which the world interposes to the unity of spirit are removed ; 
 the disruption of the bonds of peace is closed up, for its pas 
 sions and its assaults are at least for a time put aside ; then 
 the social joy of the spirits of the saints is unfettered; then 
 the charity, which is the prelude to the links of love which 
 shall bind the blessed in the world to come, is assured. We 
 are all one with each other, by being one with him, who is 
 one with the Father. 
 
 Can any one therefore imagine that he shall attain to the 
 fellowship of the saints in light in the life to come, who 
 despises its preparatory elements in this life ; can he indeed 
 entertain any adequate notion of it; nay, can he have ever 
 entertained any notion at all! It is easy for any one to 
 remark upon the general appearance of a congregation, and 
 demand what ought he to conclude from its prevailing list- 
 lessness and inattention ; whether it be really that body which 
 
124 ON PRAYER. 
 
 I have been describing, or an assemblage of unsanctified 
 flesh and blood ; and ask, if the latter, what becomes of the 
 duty which has been enjoined as so imperative 1 The person 
 who is thus prejudiced, before he enters the house of prayer, 
 is destitute of the charity which he should carry thither in 
 order to enjoy its benefits ; and he, who having entered, is at 
 leisure to remark upon his neighbours, has gone thither to as 
 little purpose. But were it certain that there was but one, 
 even one only, who was sincere in his attendance there, this 
 would not excuse his neglect ; with that one brother he may 
 have joined his spirit, and where even two or three are met 
 together in Christ's name, there is he amidst them. To ex- 
 cuse himself therefore at all, this person must be certain 
 that not one single supplicant in the house of prayer is 
 sincere. It may be asserted that a supposition so dreadfully 
 uncharitable could never enter into the mind of a man who 
 was in the least capable of sharing any spiritual intercourse 
 with a brother; hardened must be the heart, and blinded 
 indeed the understanding, of such an arguer. The world 
 had never before received such an invitation to public prayer 
 as our Saviour has given in his memorable promise just 
 quoted. How diiferent from the authoritative injunction upon 
 the Jew. "Three times a year shall thy males appear before 
 me!" And how different the mode of his presence! Not 
 as to a gross people, in the substance of a sensible glory, 
 but as to a spiritual people, in the spirit ; not limited to place, 
 as that was to the temple; not limited to time, as the 
 approach to that was. The Jew was told to fear the Lord 
 his God, as a servant. We are bidden to love the Lord our 
 God, as sons. He, therefore, was commanded to approach, 
 as to a haughty and imperious king, through a long series of 
 formal delays interposed by ceremonies of purification and 
 sacrifice. But us he calls immediately to his presence, as a 
 parent his children : our purification has been made by wash- 
 ing of the Holy Spirit ; our sacrifice has been offered by our 
 High Priest Jesus Christ; and his ears are ever open to our 
 prayers. 
 
125 
 
 DISSERTATION IX. 
 
 ON REPENTANCE. 
 
 When the wicked man turneth away from Ms wickedness that 
 he hath committed, and doeth that which is lawful and right j 
 he shall save his soul alive. — Ezek. xviii. 27. 
 
 The Jewish prophet has here furnished a complete definition 
 of repentance, applicable to every period of the church of 
 God. According' to this, it consists of two parts ; one of 
 which is the turning away from his wickedness, the other is 
 the doing that which is lawful and right : in other words, it 
 implies the turning away from the world, and the turning to- 
 wards God. And he has crowned his statement with a de- 
 claration of the blessing which God has promised upon such 
 a change, even of the salvation of the sinner, through the re- 
 mission of his sins. These three heads of this most important 
 doctrine must be carefully distinguished, because they have 
 no necessary connexion with each other, none which man's 
 reason could lead him to discover. It is God's free mercy 
 which binds them together, — it is his revelation which assures 
 us of their union ; and the knowledge and acknowledgment of 
 their connexion is one among those vital diiferences which 
 have ever distinguished the sons of God from the children of 
 the world, which set apart the sons of Shem from the sons of 
 Ham, the Israelite from the Gentile, and the Christian from 
 the Heathen. 
 
 That this is the nature of their connexion, will appear 
 from a very few considerations. 
 
 I. A man may forsake former sins, and yet not turn to 
 God. The world, at some point or other, ever disgusts its 
 votaries ; ever, if they live but long enough to make a cer- 
 tain progress in its delights ; and the same palling satiety 
 M 
 
126 ON REPENTANCE. 
 
 which has dismissed successive objects of appetite, at length 
 takes away the appetite itself. But many circumstances 
 continually intervene to abridge or prevent so long an indul- 
 gence of sin. Men are deterred by a sense of their own in- 
 terest, — by a regard to worldly reputation, — by apprehension 
 of temporal consequences, — by accidents which put it out of 
 their power, however the will may be at hand, such as want 
 of means, absence, infirmity, old age. In all such cases, the 
 foregoing of sin is no more an act of obedience to God, than 
 is its termination at their death, which cuts off all oppor- 
 tunities of sin at once and for ever. Sin, which would sup- 
 ply a particular gratification to the body, is renounced in 
 favour of a superior gratification, or is put beyond their 
 reach. Nay, men may not only abandon sin, but even be 
 sorry for it, without turning to God. Its consequences may 
 be such as to make them ashamed of their folly, to smart 
 under chastisement, and therefore to loathe the remembrance 
 of it, deeming it a grievous and intolerable burden. And yet 
 this shall amount to nothing better than the painfiil and dis- 
 tracting feeling of remorse, which arises from the conscious- 
 ness of having wilfully thrown away our own happiness. 
 Thus far went Cain, thus far went Pharaoh, thus far went 
 Saul, thus far went Judas ; yea, and thus far went even the 
 devils in hell, and are going still farther, — and yet to all 
 eternity will never arrive at the second stage of repentance. 
 So far from it, that their deepening remorse only deepens the 
 depth of that tremendous gulf which separates them from the 
 bliss of God's presence. Though, therefore, sorrow for sin 
 be indeed in the road to repentance, we no more on that ac- 
 count advance towards it, than we do to the leading object of 
 a road, by merely being upon it. Though it be indeed the 
 first step, we no more on that account pass beyond, than the 
 person who chances to place his foot on the lowest step of 
 the flight of stairs which leads to the door of God's temple, 
 therefore enters it. That step we may have taken to avoid 
 the pressure of a crowd, or to abridge our road ; and, lying 
 in a frequented thoroughfare, it may be trodden in the course 
 of the day by thousands, not one of whom turns to tread the 
 next above. Yet how common is the error of mistaking this 
 kind of sorrow for a godly sorrow ; and how many have 
 deemed themselves at peace with God, merely because they 
 were at war with the world. 
 
 II. Neither is there any necessary connexion between 
 
ON REPENTANCE. 127 
 
 addressing- ourselves to God, and obtaining his forgiveness. 
 Gross and carnal minds may indeed imagine that God's in- 
 dignation may, like the wrath of proud and vengeful man, be 
 appeased by sorrow and submission, or even be bought off 
 by costly offerings. But acute and disciplined intellects ar- 
 rive at a very different conclusion. They see in God a 
 power, which has no need of sympathizing with the weak- 
 ness of man ; a holiness, which can admit of no compromise 
 with unholiness ; a supremacy, which can brook no particle 
 of rebellion; a justice, which cannot take into favour an of- 
 fender; and a mercy, which, in the narrow glimpses obtained 
 by them, serves but to perplex and confound them, seeing it 
 shed the rain upon the just and upon the unjust. How shall 
 they hence conclude the forgiveness of sin ] Such men, 
 therefore, in their sorrow for the commission of sin, would 
 rather turn away from God than seek him, unless it be na- 
 tural for man to seek punishment. Revelation it is, (as we 
 have before shown,) which alone assures us that the turrdng 
 to God shall win his forgiveness. 
 
 The mercy of God, thus stepping into these two intervals, 
 and thus blending into one, what were otherwise utterly un- 
 connected, now gives rise to two considerations ; first, on the 
 general promise of pardon to the penitent, and next, on God's 
 special call upon the individual to turn and repent. 
 
 I. The revelation of forgiveness on repentance is necessa- 
 rily coeval with the church of God, which is founded upon it ; 
 its declaration comes to us included in the promise, made to 
 Adam, of a Redeemer; nor had Adam been in a fit state to be 
 party to the covenant into which God then entered with him, 
 were he not in a state of penitence. The promise was farther 
 daily repeated to him in the typical rite of sacrifice, which he 
 daily, with contrite confession of sin, offered for himself and 
 his family, and which was thus, at once, an assurance and a 
 ■ vehicle of pardon : we need not then go farther to seek in- 
 stances of this doctrine in the patriarchal church, and will 
 only quote the beautiful passage of Job, in which it is so af- 
 fectingly put forth. " If thou prepare thine heart, and stretch 
 out thine hands towards him ; if iniquity be in thine hand, 
 put it far away, and let not wickedness dwell in thy taberna- 
 cles ; then truly shalt thou lift up thy face without spot, and 
 shalt be stable, and shalt not fear, but thou shalt forget thy 
 misery, and remember it as waters that are past." — (xi. 13, 
 
188 ON REPENTANCE. 
 
 &c.) We need not seek instances of its declaration in the 
 next covenant, when God, not only through the daily sacri- 
 fice, but also through the mouth of his prophets, was calling 
 his people to repent and be forgiven ; how completely it was 
 declared, the passage, chosen for the text, bears witness. 
 All that remained obscure was the cause for which God be- 
 stoweth this precious boon of pardon, and this portion flashed 
 into glorious and dazzling light by the revelation of the Gos- 
 pel of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Being the very fundamental doctrine of his church, God 
 has solemnly promulgated it at the opening of each new dis- 
 pensation; and this was still more necessary, because at those 
 periods mankind had fallen into a very general apostacy. 
 Noah, a preacher of righteousness, proclaimed it before the 
 flood, which began a new stage of the patriarchal church. 
 Israel was commanded, on the day previous to the delivery of 
 the law from Mount Sinai, to sanctify himself for to-day and 
 to-morrow, and wash his clothes, (Exod. xix. 19,)* in which 
 charge, assuredly, every pious mind would understand much 
 more than a dress of outward purity, in which to appear be- 
 fore the visible glory of the Lord God of Hosts. He would 
 understand that the heart mast be clean, and not the garments 
 only; and how shall the heart be cleansed, but by repenting 
 and turning unto God 1 We ourselves are praising and im- 
 ploring God under that very covenant, whose harbinger cried 
 out to the whole world, " Repent, for the kingdom of heaven 
 is at hand !" and, at a signal time, indeed, was this procla- 
 mation made ; the whole world, Jewish and Gentile, was 
 apostate, while the last veil was going to be taken off from 
 God's mystery of salvation ; the real substantial sacrifice was 
 going to be offered, mankind was going to be openly, palpa- 
 bly, convicted of sin, by the suffering of the promised Re- 
 deemer on the cross. Men are, therefore, by this last procla- 
 mation, called to repentance, in such a manner as they never 
 were before ; and such as neglect its summons will sin in 
 such a manner as never did offender before. 
 
 II. But vain had been the warning voice of proclamation, 
 had God gone no farther ; it had, indeed, been a voice crying 
 in the wilderness, it had been a shouting in the ears of the 
 deaf, it had been commanding the dead to rise, without im- 
 
 * See also Dent. xxx. 3. 
 
' ON REPENTANCE. 129 
 
 parting to them the power of life. But God, in calling upon 
 man to repent, has also enabled him to do it by special means, 
 which it is now time to consider. 
 
 So little is man able to furnish himself with the requisite 
 means, so entirely do they come from God, that in more 
 places than one Scripture mentions repentance as a gift of 
 God : it is so, in whatever way we view it. 
 
 I. Let us view it as supplied by the channel of the ordinary 
 visitations of Providence. God, at the very moment of turn- 
 ing the Christian's face away from the world by any visit- 
 ation, invites him by the act to turn it upon himself in hea- 
 ven. This should seem to be as necessary an alternative as 
 darkness and light. To him, therefore, God makes immediate 
 appeal in every event which raises his dissatisfaction with 
 the world ; and the visitation, however temporally severe, is 
 spiritually considered a gift of golden price indeed. The 
 wounds inflicted are but the openings through which he pours 
 in his oil and balm. And not only does he call us to himself 
 by calling us away, by dissatisfaction with the world, by 
 sickness, want, sorrow, and anguish ; but oftentimes also by 
 a spirit-stirring note, which completely draws off our attention 
 for the time from the voice of the world, he invites us directly 
 to himself, — by unhoped for restoration to health or wealth, 
 unexpected rescue from danger, unlooked-for happiness, and 
 by innumerable occurrences in Avhich the thankful and devout 
 heart is ready to acknowledge God's special intervention. 
 And thus it is, that, on this side and on that, above and be- 
 low, trumpeted heralds of God are set to summon us to re- 
 pentance ; and if we neither hear them nor see them, we have 
 foregone the commonest principles of our spiritual nature ; 
 we have subdued even that elementary curiosity which is ne- 
 cessary to the maintenance of its existence ; we have severed 
 the golden chain by which God would hold us to him, in our 
 wanderings in this wilderness below. 
 
 II. It will appear still more specially a gift, if we proceed 
 from the consideration of these loud and obvious calls, to that 
 of the still small voice by which he sometimes addresses us 
 much more effectually. These occasions are far more nume- 
 rous than the world is apt to imagine. How often can a man 
 date his change of heart, and turning to God, from something 
 which, to all other eyes, and even to his own, at any other 
 time, appears trivial and inadequate to so great a consequence ; 
 but what more trivial than a burning bush : yet God was in 
 
 M 2 
 
130 ON REPENTANCE. 
 
 that bush, speaking to the salvation of Israel ; and here is 
 God, in the occurrence, calling the sinner to escape from his 
 worse than Egyptian bondage. An object contemplated but 
 ■with passing attention ; a word from a person not looked up 
 to with any particular reverence ; a trifling accident in our 
 way which we scarce recked of; a passage of Scripture 
 fraught with no obviously superior importance, and turned 
 out by apparently the merest chance ; these have often been 
 the holy ground on which God hath chosen that his spirit 
 should meet our spirit : and what had else suggested but a 
 random, momentary thought, being now the vehicle of his 
 grace, has entered, abided, and leavened the whole mass of 
 feeling and of understanding. Of such vehicles of God's pre- 
 venting grace, who has not heard from the testimony of 
 others ; of their existence who can doubt, if" he attend to the 
 internal motions of his mind, and observe how continually our 
 thoughts arise, independent of any call of our own "? Some 
 one may here object, that if this grace of God calling us to 
 repentance, be thus independent of us, what need have we to 
 exert ourselves ; why not sit down, and await at leisure its 
 proper and appointed season 1 It is not here the place to can- 
 vass the ways by which God works together with us : how 
 the free agency of the latter is the instrument of the former, 
 and the constraint of God is the choice of man. It will be 
 suflicient to ask, whoever delayed to raise his hand, or stir his 
 foot, from the conviction that God's operation was necessary 
 to enable him so to do. Experience, in this case, has certi- 
 fied to us that we can so do, and God's express promise in the 
 other ought equally to assure us that our exertion will be at- 
 tended with God's co-operation. If God sometimes calls us 
 when not exerting ourselves, what is this but an argument 
 that he will so much the more assist us when we are exerting 
 ourselves T If God sometimes intervenes to insert a holy 
 thought in a train not directed to him, will he not ever sanc- 
 tify with his grace a train which is directed to him ] If a 
 grain of wheat chance to spring up occasionally in our field, 
 shall we, therefore, neglect to sow ] The instances which 
 prove to us the preventing grace of God, should, in like man- 
 ner, stir us up to ensure it by those exertions by which we 
 are conscious, through God's promise, that we can. Sinners, 
 indeed, often find themselves so far fallen away, as to feel con- 
 vinced that nothing less than some special intervention of 
 . God can recall them : they become, therefore, desperate. 
 
ON REPENTANCE. 131 
 
 And yet which of them, in a long and dangerous sickness, 
 from whicli he felt that nothing less than God's special 
 mercy could raise him, ever neglected all human means of res- 
 toration to health 1 Much more reasonably may they (not 
 with a faint hope, but in full reliance on God's recorded pro- 
 mise) avail themselves of the means which he has put into 
 their power. 
 
 III. And more special does this gift become, in proportion 
 to the length of time which we have suffered to glide by with- 
 out applying ourselves to the ordinary and offered means of 
 obtaining it. As in every other case, so in that of change of 
 mind, — the opportunities presented to us for effecting it, di- 
 minish to our perception, in number and importance, as we 
 proceed further and further in slighting them. Thus a por- 
 tion of them perishes to us daily, neither can any art or con- 
 trivance of man recall them. As well may the greybeard 
 demand back from the grave the mates of former years, as 
 endeavour to resuscitate these golden attendants upon his bet- 
 ter days. He is left alone, abandoned both by one and the 
 other ; he has outlived them all. Our experience, both from 
 without and from within, tells us that this miserable destitu- 
 tion must, in too many cases, occur. The most vigilant 
 among us has to weep over opportunities neglected and irre- 
 vocable : what then has been the loss, how incalculable in 
 price and amount, to the reckless ; to those who, ever intent 
 on the present hour, neither looked for warning wisdom to the 
 past, nor for cautious foresight to the future ; whose whole 
 life was to-day, — to whom there was neither yesterday nor 
 morrow ; who lay like a dead body, fixed in one spot, passive 
 to all accidents, unconscious of the past life, insensible to 
 the life to come 1 But behold the overpowering mercy of 
 God ! Is health, after a long and desperate sickness ; is pros- 
 perity, after a weary period of severe distress ; is joy, after 
 nights and days of deep and prolonged sorrow, — are these 
 reckoned special gifts of God's intervention 1 What then shall 
 we think of his raising the sinner's spirit, which has been 
 long bowed down to the very dust of this carnal world 1 Is 
 it not the miraculous raising of the crooked cripple ; is it not 
 a spiritual resurrection of the dead 1 Taken in every view, 
 therefore, repentance, coming to a sinner, is a special and sig- 
 nal gift of Gk)d : it is a gTace which we cannot, any more than 
 any other, confer upon ourselves ; and yet is so far from be- 
 ing placed beyond our reach, that we may rather say that it 
 
132 ON REPENTANCE. 
 
 has been most anxiously intruded into it; while at the same 
 time it argues the utmost infatuation of recklessness to ne- 
 glect its opportunities, under the notion that we can recall them 
 at will. 
 
 Having thus considered the call to repentance, let us pro- 
 ceed to discuss the work itself, beginning from the second 
 stage of it, in which the heart, now partly weaned from the 
 world, first addresses itself to God. Of the heart I have 
 spoken, as being but partly weaned at this stage ; and we 
 should be much mistaken, and most grievously discouraged, 
 did we imagine repentance to be of a day, and not of years. 
 Its two elements, namely, the renunciation of the world, and. 
 the conversion to God, being both gradual, of course the 
 whole is gradual likewise. 
 
 I. With regard to the first, let us only reflect how mani- 
 fold and how intricate are the bonds of entanglement by 
 w^hich the world holds us captive. They are not only bonds 
 of strong and wayward passion, links of iron and brass, ob- 
 vious and palpable to the dullest sense ; but they are also 
 fine and silken, an intricate net-work, so subtle as to escape 
 our unpurified eye : bonds formed by the gentlest affections, 
 by the most amiable feelings, which sit so easy, so accom- 
 modate themselves to all our motions, that we imagine our- 
 selves free. Here lies the pith of our resistance to the 
 world; here is the crisis of our struggle. How many per- 
 sons, for instance, who would maintain the dictates of their 
 conscience most manfully against open force, yet have yielded 
 them to gentle influence : how many, w^ho would turn with 
 abhorrence from a direct and^ open temptation to sin, have 
 been drawn into it by indirect and covert invitation : how 
 many, who blamed or pitied a neighbour whom they saw 
 under its gross and open tyranny, have all the while been 
 equally under its invisible power. To escape from such 
 bonds, requires two qualities bestowed by God's grace, both 
 of them of gradual growth ; discernment, to see those secret 
 ties, and resolution, to snap them asunder. These will grow 
 stronger and stronger by exercise ; and exercise they will 
 have, to the end of life, until its last thread be broken. 
 
 II. With regard to the second, ask of those who have 
 been long in the habit of keeping God before their minds ; 
 hear them confess how unsteady, after all their aspirations, 
 is the hold of their sight upon him ; how the due notion at 
 which they would arrive, floats and flickers before them ; in 
 
ON REPENTANCE. 133 
 
 what perplexity they find themselves, when endeavouring to se- 
 lect it out and make it the leading ijdea, amid the less worthy 
 and tumultuary crowd which is hurrying through their bo- 
 som ; hear them acknowledge to what various and singular 
 expedients they are often obliged to resort, in order to rouse 
 their dull feelings, and express in their minds a due sense of 
 his continual presence; an adequate apprehension of his 
 awful attributes of majesty, power, holiness, and justice; or 
 a proper estimate of his exceeding loving-kindness and 
 mercy. If such be the case with those who are far advanced 
 on their course of amendment, how must it be with him who 
 confronts, as it were, his God for the first time 1 Brought 
 from outer darkness into the intolerable blaze of the majesty 
 of his presence, what can be his feeling, but that of over- 
 powering fear, which, for the moment, sees no other attri- 
 butes in God but inevitable ubiquity, inexorable justice? 
 This, however, is the beginning of wisdom, and as, in God's 
 moral economy, chastisement introduces happiness ; so in 
 his spiritual, horror and dismay usher in the sense of his 
 gentle attributes of mercy, love, and forgiveness, which ar- 
 rive, in the end, in company with hope. So then here is a 
 progressive state from fear to love, the penitent casting out 
 every day somewhat of the first, in proportion as he imbibes 
 of the second. Penitence becomes thus gradually a more 
 calm and staid quality, but at the same time, it deepens in 
 feeling, for the growing purity of the bosom, arising from the 
 grace of our communication with God, makes us daily more 
 sensible to the iniquity of our former sins ; the lightness of 
 our yoke reminds us more strongly of our previous burden ; 
 our improving obedience sets in deeper, darker contrast, our 
 previous disobedience ; our deepening consciousness of his 
 mercy makes us more ashamed of having formerly slighted 
 it ; and our brightening notions of all his attributes, make us 
 more and more astonished at our infatuated recklessness, 
 which could so long have trifled with them. Thus fresh 
 objects of repentance are daily rising to the view of the peni- 
 tent, witnesses of the corruption of heart in which he has 
 been so long sunk, which will continue prophesying to him 
 in sackcloth and in ashes to the last. From them he re- 
 ceives a daily rebuke, from them turns, fully humbled, to 
 supplicate the God of mercies, and the God of mercies each 
 day turns his mourning into joy : the wounds which he now 
 bears being no longer the effect of present sins, but the im- 
 
134 ON REPENTANCE. 
 
 pression of the sorrowful memory of the past, are the marks 
 which he bears, not of the world, but of Christ in him. 
 From this fear and this love — these two co-relative sources 
 of sorrow and joy — flow all the Christian's graces : from the 
 one, his lowliness, meekness, and charity ; from the other, 
 his elevated feelings of hope, fortitude, and thankfulness ; 
 and these apparently opposing elements, chastising and curb- 
 ing here, invigorating and enlarging there, perfect that frame 
 of mind which results from a full and unfeigned repentance, — 
 even from that repentance by which Ave are admitted to co- 
 venanted pardon and peace, in Jesus Christ our Saviour. 
 
 Consisting, as the process thus described must, of several 
 steps, we need not be surprised if the penitent sometimes 
 stops short in it. We have already seen that the first step of 
 turning away from the world by no means necessarily leads 
 to the next, which is the turning to God : even when the sin- 
 ner intends to turn to God, he often mistakes for it his dis- 
 gust of the world, and contentinghimself with this evidence, 
 proceeds no further, but rather in a short time becomes re- 
 conciled again to the former minister of his false happiness. 
 And even if he have turned and caught a glimpse of his 
 God, this very glimpse presents in the same moment so long 
 and dark an interval of continued and laborious struggle to 
 attain a full, clear light, that he shrinks from the toil ; he 
 wilfully deludes himself with the comfortable thought, that 
 having once turned to God he is advancing : and, having 
 admitted a ray of heavenly light into his bosom, he rests upon 
 it as evidence of being in a state of peace with God, instead 
 of proceeding with it as an earnest of more to be obtained. 
 Even thus it too frequently happens that God's summons to 
 repentance is misinterpreted by our self-delusion into an 
 assurance that all is v/ell. We regard it as a signal to go to 
 quarters, and not to march. We look upon it as a certificate 
 of being put into possession, not as a promise that we shall 
 possess. It is to us the setting sun, which tells us that our 
 work is done ; not the rising, which tells us that our work 
 must be begun. It is the rainbow, which we may stand and 
 gaze at, and assure ourselves of God's covenant of safety ; 
 and not the cloudy pillar by da}^ and fiery pillar by night, 
 which we must never cease to follow up. 
 
 Again : even after we have turned our face in good earnest 
 (at least, as we think) to God, the distance at which he ap- 
 pears from us, and our consequent despondence, gives a tern- 
 
ON REPENTANCE. 135 
 
 porary advantage to the world, which is nigh at hand with 
 all its outward cheerfulness. We have now, therefore, for 
 the first time, two masters openly set before us, each calling 
 us to his service : for the first time we are fully aware of the 
 difficulties which beset the road to eternal life: for the first time 
 we become conscious of the exceeding power of the world. 
 We thought not of the strength of its stream while we were 
 carelessly floating with it ; but now we have to make head 
 against it, and with difficulty can we keep our footing. What 
 wonder, then, if at this point often occurs a long pause, or even 
 a retrograde step? Here is the crisis of the penitent's fate, but 
 here, likewise, is the assisting grace of God most m.anifestly 
 shown, strengthening amid weakness. But for this help our 
 corrupt nature would immediately relapse into its former state, 
 and we should deem the fleeting world, of which we are in oc- 
 cupation, at least an equivalent to the everlasting world, which 
 is in expectance. From the whole process of repentance, thus 
 considered, it is evident that we must address ourselves to it 
 without delay; it is a work to which the more bodily and 
 mental vigour we can bring on our part, the more certain are 
 we of completing it through God's grace. But not only our 
 limbs and senses are daily becoming less active and pliant, 
 but our minds and thoughts also. Our will is daily losing 
 somewhat of its sovereignty over both one department and 
 the other ; and when the trembling hand refuses to obey, the 
 thoughts also will most probably be out of our controul. 
 Thus there is a point where, humanly speaking, repentance 
 is no longer possible. Now, therefore, when it is suggested, 
 is the acceptable time. Now let the holy work begin ; and 
 God, that desireth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he 
 should turn from his wickedness and live, will save our souls 
 alive. 
 
136 
 
 DISSERTATION X. 
 
 ON THE STATE OF A MEMBER OF THE CHURCH OF GOD. 
 
 JLhrdham believed God, and it was counted unto him for rtghtC' 
 ousncss. — Rom. iv. 3. 
 
 In the moment of the first man's sin, his relation to God was 
 changed. He had disobeyed the will of God, conformity to 
 which constituted the excellence of his nature, and was the 
 only principle of harmony to its various qualities. His ori- 
 ginal nature was now, like a dead body, in a state of hideous 
 dissolution, from the loss of the vital principle ; and discor- 
 dant passions, unrestrained appetites, broken thoughts, took 
 place of that compact system, in which every part bore 
 without a single deviation to the one grand object. His pas- 
 sions, instead of being excited by the love of God, were now 
 roused by the love of himself; his appetites, instead of find- 
 ing satisfaction in God's provision for them, sought it any 
 where else, and therefore in earthly things rather than hea- 
 venly ; his thoughts, instead of centering in the worship and 
 contemplation of God, were scattered abroad, and having lost 
 that converging impulse by which they ascended straight to 
 the throne of heaven, lay, like a fog, entangled amid the 
 briers and brambles of earth. If, therefore, in his former 
 state, he was an object of God's love, what else could he be 
 in his present, but an object of his wrath and condemnation'? 
 Nevertheless, such is God's unspeakable mercy, he was met 
 in this miserable state by a promise of restoration. And the 
 effect of that promise on this state, now, alas ! the natural 
 state of man, is the object of the present inquiry. It is es- 
 sential to the nature of a promise, that it can have no retro- 
 spect : however suggested by past circumstances, it cannot 
 take them into its conditions. Hence the promise of ever- 
 
ON THE STATE OP A MEMBER, &.C. 137 
 
 lasting life, being proposed by God to man, he is freed from 
 all anxiety regarding his conduct previous to his acceptance 
 of it. The very promise annuls the past, as far as responsi- 
 bility can be concerned, and assures him that it is irrelative 
 to the great bliss to be conveyed to him. Such a promise is 
 therefore necessarily accompanied with an assurance of the 
 forgiveness of past sins. The acceptance of the promise on 
 the part of man, is through faith in God the giver ; this being 
 essential on the part of the receiver, in any promise between 
 any parties. This promise also is made by God for the sake 
 of the merits of Jesus Christ, his only son. From these se- 
 veral considerations being put together, there arises the pro- 
 position, that our sins are forgiven through faith, for the sake 
 of the merits of Jesus Christ; in other words, we are justified 
 through faith, on account of the merits of Jesus Christ. 
 
 And this proposition, having been deduced from principles 
 common to every stage of God's Church, is applicable to 
 every period of it ; the only difference will be, that the reason 
 of God's forgiveness is not necessary to be revealed to all 
 men, and therefore its complete development was reserved 
 for that period which he had destined for the revelation of the 
 mystery which was kept secret since the world began. 
 (Rom. xvi. 25.) 
 
 The forgiveness of sins thus conveyed to the natural man 
 on his accepting God's promise in faith, is called justification, 
 his injustice up to that moment not being taken into account. 
 
 We have now to examine the nature of this faith. 
 
 It is a lively and implicit belief in God's promise, nor can 
 man, from the very nature of the case, bring any thing more 
 wherewith to meet God : works, we have seen, are entirely 
 excluded. What, indeed, could the lost, the degraded, the 
 despairing Adam bring, but an humble and earnest acceptance 
 of whatever God in his mercy should think fit to bestow ? 
 What could be the recommendation of Abraham before God, 
 more than a sincere conviction of the truth of his promises, 
 even against all human grounds of hope 1 and what can the 
 receiver of the Gospel plead but his faith in God through 
 Christ 1 Works taken into account at this moment, would 
 throw man back again into his condemnation. We are justi- 
 fied, therefore, by faith alone, without works, and the faith of 
 man and the forgiveness of God are correlative terms ; and 
 thus, for instance, the Gospel of Christ proclaims remission 
 of sins to all men, of whatever condition, mental, moral, or 
 N 
 
138 ON THE STATE OF A MEMBER OF 
 
 physical, — to the philosopher and to the ignorant, to the pub" 
 lican and the pharisee, to the man in the king's court, to the 
 beggar on the highway, — to him who hath w^orked from 
 dawn, and to him who began but at the eleventh hour, pro- 
 vided they will only repent and believe. All, therefore, 
 whatever they may have been before, — by whatever ways, 
 and through whatever length of time they may have arrived 
 at it, — are in this moment held to be equal, — there is no dif- 
 ference between master And slave, Jew and Greek. But 
 however long God's preventing grace may have been pre- 
 disposing the heart to entertain this justifying faith, it is evi- 
 dent that the act of justification is momentary : it is a single 
 point in our life, on one side of which all the past is can- 
 celled, on the other all is future in bright and brilliant hope. 
 It is a moment, as it were, of spiritual re-animation ; and as 
 when God recalls from death, he by that very act also neces- 
 sarily infuses a principle of life, so in this act he not only 
 acquits us from sin, but also infuses a vivifying spirit of ho- 
 liness. From this circumstance, and also because it is due 
 to the operation of the Holy Ghost, the state ensuing from 
 this moment is called the state of sanctification, and must 
 extend henceforward to our life's end. 
 
 Now, since the moment after justification, our previous 
 nature, with its thoughts and feelings, still subsists, the rela- 
 tion in which God chooses to consider us, alone having un- 
 dergone an effective change as yet, and as the Holy Spirit 
 has commenced his operations, and as faith (which waits in 
 hope the accomplishment of the thing promised, but unseen) 
 must still subsist and proceed, w^e see that not only faith, 
 but works also, must be taken into account in our consider- 
 ation of this state. 
 
 And first, with regard to faith. 
 
 Every one knows by experience, that the more objects we 
 can lay hold of, and bring together, as it were, to converge 
 to the desired end, the firmer our assurance in its accomplish- 
 ment becomes : hence, our faith is capable of growth in ex- 
 tent and stability. And, indeed, since an active mind is 
 always progressive to some point, if our faith did not grow 
 correspondingly, it would soon he overlaid and choaked up 
 by the growth of other faculties and feelings : but the objects 
 thus supplied to the exercise of the faith of the religious man 
 daily grow in number and importance. He has God's holy 
 word, and God's holy spirit, to supply them. The latter en- 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 139 
 
 lightens his understanding to the study of the former, which, 
 having been also the production of the same spirit, brings 
 him into still closer communion with the giver of light, 
 whose co-operation is still further obtained in meditation and 
 prayer ; hence the faith of this man is every day seeing fresh 
 objects to lead him on to the end unseen. He is taking a 
 more and more comprehensive view of the holy word ; he is 
 constantly bringing more and more points together to bear to 
 that end, which before seemed unconnected ; he is gradually 
 supplying to every communication with the world, a firm 
 base in God's revelation, on which it shall rest like a rock 
 amid the waves, unmoved by wind or tide of human affairs ; 
 he is daily providing some new heavenly principle, some 
 new deduction of faith, to support him against trial and 
 temptation ; every day he opens his eyes upon more on 
 which to be humbled, more on which to be thankful, more 
 on which to love, more on which to praise, to sing, and to 
 be joyful. Thus our faith, growing with the number of ob- 
 jects which give it exercise, daily gathering under its domi- 
 nion more and more of the subjects of thought and passion, 
 advances continually towards that comprehension which shall 
 include all our reflection and practice, and that stability 
 which nothing of this world can shake. It is attaining a pro- 
 tecting omnipresence, as it were, in all the goings forth of 
 our spirit, whether its objects be within or without. While 
 human faculties, such as human knowledge, widen at the ex- 
 pense of depth, this heavenly faculty is given without stint 
 or measure. 
 
 This progressive quality of faith is several times mentioned 
 or implied by Scripture. In its least degree it is likened to 
 a grain of mustard-seed (Luke xvii. 6) ; but this, though the 
 least of seeds, grows to the greatest tree. Men may be 
 established and grounded in the faith, and may be moved 
 away (Col. i. 23), and faith is the victory which overcometh 
 the world (1 John v. 4). 
 
 We may briefly show the vast extent allowed to the progress 
 of faith, by instancing the difference between a justifying and a 
 sanctifying faith. The one is the result of a comparison of the 
 gifts of the world with God's promise, and ends in the joyful 
 election of the latter. But the other has entirely dismissed the 
 former from all consideration, and fixes entirely upon the lat- 
 ter. In the one, was an assured expectation of help from 
 God; in the other, is the conscious enjoyment of it, acting 
 
140 ON THE STATE OF A MEMBER OF 
 
 as an earnest of more and greater. There, the beginning is 
 in fear ; here, the end is in love. There, the seed was sown ; 
 here, the fruit is gathered. The number of objects supplied 
 to the nourishment of faith must have grown more numerous 
 as the church grew in age, which, in this instance, resembles 
 one of its members, whose case we have been considering. 
 The faith of Adam, and his patriarchal successors, must have 
 had its objects, few, and all prospective ; nothing, as far as 
 is recorded, having been added to the original promise, which 
 could bring it nearer to the eye, or increase its clearness, un- 
 til the call of Abraham. If we take the Jewish church at its 
 brightest period, we find that its members had presented to 
 their eyes a bright track, allowing the eye to rest at intervals 
 on brilliant and glorious objects, and yet conducting it on, 
 through an undeviating line, to the accomplishment of the 
 original and general prophecy. The Jew stood here at a point 
 of time up to which, from the delivery of the prophecy, 
 stretched a series of heart-stirring wonders and mercies, 
 shown to his nation ; and onward from which stretched an- 
 other series, glittering through the darkness of futurity. At 
 the same time, the voice of living prophets was sounding in 
 his ear, and adding star after star, cluster upon cluster, until 
 he gazed upon a milky way, as it were, of coming events. 
 But how insignificant is even all this, compared with what 
 is presented to the eye of Christian faith. It is, indeed, the 
 starry night which ushers us in a bright and glorious day. 
 For all which was brilliant vision to the Jew, is to us a body 
 of glorious and substantial facts ; our future begins where his 
 ended, and is limited but by the consummation of all things, 
 when our mighty Lord and Saviour shall come again in glory 
 to judge both the quick and the dead. Besides our own pe- 
 culiar view, we have all which the Patriarch saw in hope, 
 and the Jew in prophecy. It may, perhaps, be objected, that 
 our advantage is not so very great here, inasmuch as our be- 
 lief is more easily given to a few well-established facts, than 
 to a multitude ; that, at all events, a few are sufiicient, being 
 as much as the mind can command in its grasp. This would 
 be true, were not the connexion between the facts so close, 
 the tendency of all to one point so clear, that, a single term 
 accepted, all the rest follow of course ; and then the accumu- 
 lation pressing upon the mind in every direction, leaves not a 
 single heaving point ; not a single expression of murmuring 
 doubt can escape. Belief will readily admit intervals of other 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 141 
 
 impressions on the mind, and may therefore come from a few 
 facts ; but faith is, as it were, an omnipresence of conviction, 
 flowing from every quarter to which we turn, and for this 
 continual impression requires a continual supply of objects. 
 
 To illustrate what we have been saying, let us take up an 
 individual instance ; let us consider the progress in faith 
 made by the Christian convert. At the very outset, his faith, 
 by keeping his eye fixed upon his Saviour, would now enable 
 him, for the first time, to overcome some besetting temptation; 
 for the first time to subdue some tyrannous passion, which 
 had destroyed his peace of conscience. He has here a cheer- 
 ing proof of the efficacy of faith, and his faith is increased ; 
 and as he advances from conquest to conquest over the flesh, 
 he also grows from faith to faith. Thus is it with regard to 
 his practice. At the same time, on his applying in his newly- 
 acquired faith to God's holy word, he would there, for the 
 first time, find something wonderfully corresponding to some 
 particular state of his mind, both vividly suggesting it, and 
 most happily directing it;' whether it be some uneasiness 
 which he now finds turned into comfort, or some enjoyment 
 which he now finds exalted and sanctified into lasting spiritual 
 happiness. And thus while, on every successive reading, he 
 brings different states of mind to it, and receives for each an 
 all-sufficient remedy, or sanctifying direction, his faith grows 
 stronger daily, until the word of God is so inwoven into all 
 his thoughts, is so diffused into the whole frame of his mind, 
 as to be the ruling principle, and not the mere accessory. 
 Thus internally also he grows from faith to faith. Again, 
 every day that he turns over the pages of Scripture, some fact 
 detailed in it strikes him as it never did before ; and objects 
 are daily arising to nourish his growing faith in his hours of 
 meditation. And thus, at length, he attains unto that faith, 
 which is proof to the seductions of the flesh, to the perplexi- 
 ties of the spirit ; which, in a word, overcometh the world. 
 
 Having ascertained the nature of faith, let us next inquire 
 into its rank and value. It is the fountain-head of every 
 other holy acquirement. Faith in the love of Christ moves 
 our love towards each other. Faith in the help of Christ, and 
 in the life to come, which he bestows, gives us patience to 
 bear, and courage to dare. Faith, holding up our own un- 
 worthiness, and his all-sufficient merits, inspires us with 
 gentleness and meekness. Just as a powerful well-head 
 supplies a number of pools below, which serve for heads of 
 N 2 
 
142 ON THE STATE OP A MEMBER OF 
 
 water for irrigation, so does faith supply the forementioned 
 qualities, which give life and vigour to our Christian practice. 
 
 It is in constant activity, ever welling forth, and buhbling 
 up, and by a constant supply keeping the pools full against 
 the proper season of their being called upon to perform their 
 part. Possession, therefore, of this can alone give us pos- 
 session of the rest. On this account it is that sometimes 
 Holy Scripture sums up the whole Gospel under this single 
 term of faith. If all our other Christian qualities are thus 
 dependant upon faith, much more are works, which are the 
 outward expression of those qualities. Faith, therefore, is 
 the main-trunk, these qualities are the branches, works are 
 the fruit. Faith is essential to the very existence of the tree ; 
 works are necessary to its value, but accidental to its ex- 
 istence. 
 
 But, at the same time, it is with very good reason that the 
 authors of the epistles of the New Testament direct their ex- 
 hortations not to faith, but rather to works ; with provocations 
 to these they overflow. For faith, being the inward principle 
 of exercise to the spirit, as life is of motion to the body, can 
 only be maintained by that exercise. A physician would not 
 say to the sick man, maintain your life, increase your vital 
 powers ; but would insist upon using exercise, practising diet. 
 If a body show neither motion nor speech, it is dead to all 
 purposes of this world ; and so faith without works is dead to 
 all purposes of the spiritual world. But, though the supre- 
 macy of faith be thus undoubted, such disputes have taken 
 place upon the relative value of works, that the subject cannot 
 be so immediately dismissed, especially as the result is of the 
 utmost importance. It is astonishing what continual mistakes 
 and misunderstandings in moral questions arise from inatten- 
 tion to the definite sense of words. While every one is eager 
 in the use of general terms, scarcely any one is patient 
 enough to ascertain their full meaning. We have a strong 
 instance of this in the use of the term " good works." How 
 many have defined to themselves their acceptation of the 
 word " good" here 1 
 
 Good works may be so termed in two ways. First, they 
 may be called good, because they have resulted from the 
 natural principle of right reason, recognized by us individu- 
 ally and socially ; in this sense they are good according to the 
 moral philosopher. But in a second sense they are good, as 
 proceeding from a conscience informed by God's revealed 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 143 
 
 will. In this sense only are they good, according to the the- 
 ologian ; for it is clear that the Christian who works upon the 
 first principle, who is dutiful, affectionate, charitable, merely 
 from natural motives, so far from obeying God, is disobeying 
 him. God tells him to act from this motive, and he chooses 
 to act from that. The confusion of these two different prin- 
 ciples of action is the rock upon which heedless and mere 
 professing Christians are perpetually striking. They imagine 
 themselves to have performed God's will, when they have 
 not taken the trouble to learn it ; to have pleased him, when 
 they have but pleased themselves ; and mistake the applause 
 of man for the approval of God. 
 
 But among those who understand the term in its proper 
 sense, there are unfortunate disputes as to what title we 
 should give them in expressing their relation to our spiritual 
 condition. The only opinions which need be canvassed here 
 are two ; namely, that which entitles their exhibition a condi- 
 tion of salvation, and that which calls them the fruits and 
 evidences of a true and lively faith. Between the well- 
 informed propounders of these opinions, the difference appears 
 to be rather nominal than real. But not so among their less 
 considerate followers ; they are led more by words than things. 
 It becomes us, therefore, to make our election between these 
 two modes of expression. The first appears deficient in 
 logical precision upon so critical a doctrine ; for it includes 
 in its terms two propositions, which, while it is most neces- 
 sary to distinguish them from each other, thus come con- 
 founded to the understanding of the unexploring reader. It 
 tells us, not only that if we have not works we shall not be 
 saved, but also, that if we have works weshall be saved; and 
 in this latter sense, which commends itself so much to our 
 self-sufficiency, it is very generally accepted by the careless 
 and unreflecting; to them it expresses little, if anything, less 
 than the doctrine of merits. But neither, if we confine the 
 expression to the first of these included propositions, will it 
 give a clear statement of the fact; for it confounds the sense 
 of the word condition. The condition of salvation is purely 
 conventional, being the merits of Christ on the part of God, 
 faith on the part of man. But here the condition is necessary, 
 and moreover subordinate to the other, since the expression, 
 when fully explained, must be intended to say that, if we are 
 to be saved, we must have faith, (where the condition is one 
 of convention :) and that if we have faith it must produce 
 
144 ON THE STATE OP A MEMBER OF 
 
 works, (where the condition is a moral necessity.) In 
 whichever way, therefore, we resolve the general proposition 
 of the exhibition of works being a condition of salvation, there 
 is ground for misapprehension, and its employers cannot com- 
 plain of misrepresentation. The second mode of expression, 
 therefore, seems preferable ; and both boasting and despon- 
 dency, which may arise from differently misunderstanding 
 the first, are excluded. Boasting cannot have place, because 
 the man, whose lively faith is the author of the work, has in 
 his contemplation such attributes of perfection, even of the 
 Father, whom he sees in his son Jesus Christ who hath 
 declared him, — such justice, such holiness ; and turns from 
 these to find in his own best frame of mind such an humiliating 
 contrast ; is so continually rebuked by the comparison of what 
 he has done with what he should have done ; descries such a 
 wide interval even between the will and the deed, imperfect 
 as the former is, and again between the means given to him, 
 and the end produced by him, that he will indeed confess with 
 all confusion of face that he is an unprofitable servant. But 
 despondency will be excluded, not only because his lively 
 faith has a lively apprehension of God's mercy, but also be- 
 cause his works, embodying though they do much sad fleshly 
 superfluity together with his principles of faith, will be evi- 
 dences to him of the abiding of God's grace in his heart ; and 
 although they bear no proportion to the model which he has 
 in view, no more than finite to infinite, yet they admit of 
 degrees among each other; and if the progress towards per- 
 fection be indiscernible as ever, yet the remoteness from 
 helpless human corruption begins to be visible. His tree at 
 all events is bearing fruit ; it is in the heavenly vineyard, is in- 
 tended by the heavenly vine-dresser, and the earnest which it 
 has given of answering his care will earn still more of his 
 attention ; grace will be given for grace ; the very discovery 
 of his deficiencies will administer comfort in the same mo- 
 ment that they abash him : for when a man has found out 
 where he is weak, he has also found out where he may here- 
 after be less weak ; and from the corruption of man he is 
 enabled to estimate more distinctly, by contrast, the power 
 of the amending grace of God ; and hence he feels assured 
 that sufficient shall be supplied to his overcoming the world. 
 Good works, therefore, are the fruits of a lively faith, and 
 are acceptable to God, as the fruit of the tree to the Father, 
 which has been planted by the husbandry of his only be- 
 
THE CHURCH OP GOD. 145 
 
 gotten Son. Holy he accounts the vineyard, holy the tree, 
 and holy the fruit ; if it continue to bear fruit, the care of 
 the husbandman is both continued and increased. If it 
 bear not fruit, it is cut down, cast out of the vineyard, 
 and burned. But as the ploughman who looks back is 
 not fit for the kingdom of heaven, so neither must we be 
 casting fond retrospects upon our works, and thus resting 
 in them with all complacency : we must be ever looking for- 
 ward, and what has been done must be but a call to do more ; 
 grace supplied must lead to grace to be supplied. Hence a 
 diligent examination of our state is necessary, and here it is 
 that our good works tell practically as evidences to us of our 
 state towards salvation. This will appear from an examina- 
 tion for the proper tests of our faith. They are from within 
 and from without. 
 
 I. The testimony from within is peace of mind, being 
 borne by our conscience, and in three different ways. 
 
 First : It will come from the understanding ; and this, 
 when well examined, gives the surest evidence of all, be- 
 cause it is that part of us, which from its remote and ab- 
 stract nature, is least likely to be imposed upon by the 
 outward world, and its passions. The force of this testi- 
 mony will consist in the absence of all doubt and perplexity, 
 in the entertainment of clear and consistent views, in quick 
 discernment of consequences, in most full and reasonable 
 conviction of the principles of belief, which it has attained 
 by long and patient investigation, and in a mastery over its 
 sacred subjects, so as to be ever ready to produce and apply 
 them as the practice of life shall demand them. No man can 
 have confidence in the steadiness of his faith, without the 
 answer of some such touchstone as this. 
 
 Secondly : It will consist in purity and propriety of imagi- 
 nation, by which I mean not only the presence of nothing but 
 pure images in the mind, but also proper and adequate, and 
 abiding. Is our notion of God sufiiciently exalted ; is our 
 view of the gospel, with all its facts, consistent with Scrip- 
 ture 1 Is the character of Christ written in all its true holi- 
 ness and loveliness on our breast 1 Are the mighty events 
 by which he wrought our redemption, pictured there in true, 
 lively, and abiding characters ; cheering us, and prompting 
 us as models by which to shape our own conduct ! Do these 
 holy pictures, drawn after long study of their heavenly proto- 
 types, touch after touch, by perusal after perusal of Scripture, 
 
146 ON THE STATE OF A MEMBER OF 
 
 Still gTOW day after day into greater likeness and harmony 
 with the originals, which day after day we turn over? Do 
 we hail them with increasing delight, and patiently proceed 
 comparing, improving, amending, until the glorious whole be 
 formed in us 1 In proportion as we have repelled all impure, 
 low, trivial, and earthly imaginations, and possessed our- 
 selves with pure, lofty, serious, and heavenly, we have ac- 
 quired a saving faith, and are enjoying the beneficial co- 
 operation of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 Thirdly : It will come from our passions and feelings, and 
 will consist in the absence of all vexation ; in the conscious- 
 ness of daily gaining some victory over them ; in the resigna- 
 tion of all our desires into God's hands ; in the looking on the 
 world with the calmness of one who sees in each event, 
 however it may affect him, even to extreme poverty and afflic- 
 tion, one harbinger more of the coming of the kingdom of 
 Christ; to whom and to whose cause he has surrendered 
 himself in every Avish and appetite, and can cry out, joyful 
 amid sorrow, like a zealous imitator of the obedience of his 
 Saviour, " Not my will, O Lord, but thy will be done." In 
 proportion as we thus can overcome the world, and establish 
 the kingdom of heaven over our hearts, will be the value of 
 the testimony arising from this source. Before, however, 
 proceeding to the n'ext class, we must observe, that not very 
 many men are possessed of sufficient reflection, and of such 
 steady attention to the working of their own minds, as to 
 draw much advantage from the above sources. Only the 
 higher and most carefully disciplined minds can apply to 
 them. The rest will, except under very pressing circum- 
 stances which concentrate their attention on some particular 
 occasion, cast a look so superficial, that they will not be 
 aware (at least from these means) how vanity is deluding- 
 their understanding, enthusiasm abusing their imagination, 
 and interest working upon their passions. To these, there- 
 fore, that is, to the great generality of mankind, a surer test is 
 afforded from sources of the next class. Happy indeed is he 
 who can make good use of both ! 
 
 II. The value of the testimony, from without, that is, of 
 works, arises from their being a palpable expression of our 
 frame of mind, the final result of the thoughts and passions 
 which we have been cherishing there. And it tells us of 
 two things : first, whether we be really possessed of certain 
 inward qualities, for which we give ourselves credit ; and, 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 147 
 
 secondly, brinors to light qualities which we had not sus- 
 pected in ourselves. 
 
 On the first point we may remark how prone we are to 
 give ourselves credit for certain gifts of nature ; for calmness 
 of mind, contentedness of spirit, evenness of temper. But it 
 is plain that unless we can exhibit to our conscience outward 
 proofs of these being put into exercise, not by the dictates of 
 nature, but by the motive of faith, they are of no account, but 
 rather the contrary : we have received talents which we have 
 never sought to improve, and turn to the service of our Master. 
 From faith alone can we receive the energy to overcome the 
 lets and hindrances, with which all natural gifts are, as with 
 means of proof and trial, accompanied. With the above- 
 mentioned gifts are generally found also reluctance to exer- 
 tion, passiveness to the authority and advice of others, fear 
 of contradiction. So also fortitude of mind is often joined 
 with an unevangelical stubbornness ; cautiousness of belief, 
 with scepticism ; curiosity of inquiring, with barren and 
 minute trifling. Faith alone will free the gift from its coun- 
 tervailing partner, and bring it unfettered and energetic into 
 action ; and so brought, it will give us a testimony of the 
 spirit abiding within us. 
 
 On the second point we need not observe how ignorant 
 men are of themselves, not only through passion and interest, 
 not only through inattention, but also from incapacity of 
 passing judgment upon their inward thoughts. Such a min- 
 gled mass is the mind of almost every man, consisting of 
 thoughts and passions of manifold complexions, of manifold 
 stages from mere confused elements to ripe matured notions, 
 that they seldom know its general bearing before it gives 
 birth to some work. Then, indeed, the deformity which es- 
 caped them in the dark depths of their bosom is seen clearly 
 in the light before men. Then the laws and the customs of 
 the world, and the word of Scripture, immediately bring it to 
 their bar, and the whole man is judged from this single fact. 
 His works then tried in the conscience of the believer, will give 
 him an evidence, which otherwise he could not obtain, of the 
 spirit within him. The approval or condemnation of the 
 world will only operate to his examining it with greater and 
 more scrupulous jealousy by the test of God's word ; and ac- 
 cording as it is agreeable to that test he may reckon his sin- 
 cerity of faith. 
 
148 ON THE STATE OF A MEMBER, &C. 
 
 Such are the testimonies from within and from without, 
 which the Christian has of his spiritual state, and to these he 
 must be daily appealing : they mark distinctly out the way 
 which he is going, and he can see whether it tend to the only 
 proper end or not. The proof of the accuracy of his examina- 
 tion will he the accordance of the testimony from within and 
 from without, in both cases subjected to the word of God, 
 that searcher of the heart. If both agree in telling him that 
 lie is advancing in grace, most happy he, and the effusion of 
 the spirit upon his heart will give him still further assurance 
 and faith in God, and his Son Jesus Christ, even as the dew 
 on the fleece of wool did to Gideon of old (Judges vii. 37). 
 And finally he will obtain that faith which overcometh the 
 world, and enjoy its crowning triumph, which is, to have 
 transferred himself in hope and affections above : and as in 
 the body he puts full faith in the permanency of the opera- 
 tions of Providence ; pursues his plans on the full assurance 
 of the sun rising on the morrow, of the sea maintaining its 
 level, of the earth yielding its increase ; even so, even with 
 the same certainty, to work in spirit, convinced that the grace 
 of God shall never fail, that the help of his knowledge shall 
 ever abide, that the bliss and glory of the life to come shall 
 keep the appointed day, when the Son of Man shall come 
 again in his glorious majesty to judge the quick and the 
 dead. 
 
149 
 
 DISSERTATION XI. 
 
 ON THE ANALOGY OF THE NATURAL AND SPIRITUAL BIRTH. 
 
 Being horn agaln^ not of corruptible seed^ but of incorruptible, 
 by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever. — 
 1 Peter i. 23. 
 
 To be born again of God and of the Spirit, to be begotten by 
 the word and through the gospel, to put off the old man and 
 put on the new, to become as little children, to grow in grace 
 and knowledge of the Lord, to come unto the perfect man, 
 unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ, — 
 these are phrases which are continually meeting our eyes in 
 the pages of Holy Scripture ; and it were well if their preg- 
 nant meaning as often found its way to our hearts. They 
 are indeed figurative ; but it is only by means of illustration, 
 drawn from the world of flesh, that our imperfect nature can 
 obtain a glimpse of the objects and operations of the world of 
 spirit ; and they convey to us as clearly as our duties and 
 condition here can require, the important fact, that we have to 
 undergo a moral death, the death unto sin, — and a moral 
 birth, the birth unto righteousness ; and that there is a strong 
 analogy between the birth and growth of the body and that of 
 the spirit, so that we may learn from the one to ascertain, 
 with sufficient precision, the progressive stages of the other. 
 As this analogy (which it is now purposed to pursue) is 
 intelligible only so far as our consciousness carries us, it will 
 be sufficient to commence it from that moment, when God, 
 by some one among his many mercifal interventions with 
 sinful man, calls him from a state of worldly thoughtlessness 
 to a serious consideration of his spiritual condition; and 
 from a secure and almost unconscious enjoyment of mere 
 initiatory spiritual privileges, to their actual and full exercise. 
 
150 ON THE ANALOGY^ Ol' THE 
 
 That moment is, perhaps, with some, but too transitory, and 
 the creature dies ahiiost in the birth; otliers expire in the ru- 
 diments of childhood ; some, alas! in the prime of manhood ; 
 some, after a long- struggle with infirmity, start into health, 
 and illustrate the analogy to its full extent, and to their own 
 salvation, and the glory of their master. 
 
 Let us take the natural world, and contemplate the young^ 
 child. Observe his intense curiosity, his unwearied, minute, 
 and detailed examination of the new world around him. He 
 will not be satisfied witb the distant evidence of sight, here- 
 after to be his principal guide ; but he must touch, taste, 
 handle, and thus is fonning that correctness of vision, whereby 
 he may in future judge of what lies beyond his reach. Such 
 is the new man, upon his first introduction into the spiritual 
 world. Besides what is peculiar to it, all that detail which 
 before surrounded him, but scarcely could engage his atten- 
 tion, now, invested with a new character, solicits his observa- 
 tion, at every moment, from every quarter. All that train of 
 consequences which flow so abundantly from the sinfulness 
 of man, from the mercy, love, and justice of God, from a cru- 
 cified Redeemer, and the certainty of everlasting life, — all 
 that is delivered line by line, and page by page, in God's 
 holy word, — all the hourly duties of life, which are now be- 
 come the palpable dress of spiritual meditation and feel- 
 ings, — all the opportunities which his clear sight now 
 perceives thrusting themselves upon his notice, coming from 
 God, like his daily bread, to try and nourish his young facul- 
 ties, — all these fill his sphere of thought and action to over- 
 flow, attract him by their novelty, invite him by their 
 grandeur to examine, and compare, and spiritually handle. 
 His ardent curiosity will let nothing pass before him, merely 
 as an object of sight ; he must take in hand and prove all 
 things, and cleave to that which is good. Thus he acquires 
 those just powers of spiritual vision by which he extends his 
 sphere of knowledge, that he may be enabled to comprehend 
 with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and 
 height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth know- 
 ledge, and be filled with all the fulness of God. 
 
 The child, moreover, even while apparently least engaged, 
 is nevertheless by various unseen ways acquiring the neces- 
 sary experience in the world around him ; his habits are 
 forming, he is growing conscious of his faculties of body and 
 mind, more sensible to the calls of his new existence. And 
 
NATURAL AND SPIRITUAL BIRTH. 151 
 
 SO, too, tlie infant of the spiritual world, in his intervals of 
 practical quietude, is still busy; his newly-formed thoughts 
 are arranging themselves, his mind is ascertaining its place 
 and relation in the new world, he is almost unsconciously an- 
 alyzing and combining the precious materials which he has 
 gathered, so. that on his return to more active communication, 
 it is with augmented powers, and with more intense enjoy- 
 ment. The child's communication with the sensible world 
 presents him immediately with one set of instincts, and me- 
 diately, through gradual experience, Avith another ; and thus 
 he proceeds from the use of his mother's breast, of his own 
 limbs, organs, and appetites, to those multifarious habits, 
 those instantaneous though acquired operations, bodily, intel- 
 lectual, and moral, which unconsciously are exhibited by a 
 settled system of body and mind. Exactly analogous is the 
 process and result upon our introduction to the spiritual world ; 
 and as in the former case we were under the influence of that 
 continued exertion of God's power to which we owed our 
 birth, and which we call nature, so in this we are under the 
 continued grace of the Holy Spirit, by which we were born ; 
 and the world to which he has brought us operating upon 
 our rninds, produces a class of appropriate spiritual in- 
 stincts, — partly directly, from the very act of our intercourse, 
 partly indirectly, in the process of habitual reflection and con- 
 tinual experience, — the results remaining by us in the shape 
 of first principles, though the process by which we arrived at 
 them may have been long dismissed from memory. To the 
 former class, for example, belongs the fear of God, and a 
 sense of our own unworthiness, the immediate and inevitable 
 results of our first communication with the spiritual world. 
 Among such as the course of time supplies, may be placed 
 instantaneous resistance to temptation : for it is only by a 
 series of mortifying experiments that we can learn to dis- 
 tinguish its most dangerous aspects, espy its most formidable 
 poi'nts of attack, estimate the ruinous consequences of a mo- 
 mentary relaxation of our guard ; and thus arrive at the de- 
 sirable result of an instant and intuitive view of the peril, 
 and of as instant repulsion. 
 
 As in the case of the child, these principles increase in 
 strength and number as we proceed, daily embracing a wider 
 range of our actions, and guarding us more and more effect- 
 ually from those unforeseen accidents, forestalling all calcu- 
 lation, to which our course is liable; fresh acquirements 
 
152 ON THE ANALOGY OF THE 
 
 being daily made, others obtained long ago are daily settling 
 down into the class of first principles. And thus, as in the 
 sensible Avorld, our immediate healthy communication with 
 the spiritual world being secured, the higher fiaculties, re- 
 leased from the slavish duty of the mere preservation of this 
 new existence, are at liberty to extend their range of disco- 
 very through the realms of spirit day after day, refining our 
 nature, and raising us from a precarious and bare subsistence 
 to a more exalted state of being. There is, therefore, a child- 
 hood, a youth, and a manhood. In the first state, the new 
 man is learning the use of his limbs and senses. He is, 
 therefore, in continual apprehension. As he endeavours to 
 keep the way of God, he is liable to swerve or to stumble ; 
 as he puts forth his hand to lay hold of God's promises, his 
 aim is uncertain, his grasp is weak. As he gazes around him 
 he is alarmed by unwonted sights ; in the old man he had 
 never imagined that such infirmity would be his lot ; he had 
 imagined that he had only to go on and prosper, whenever he 
 should seriously address himself to newness of life. He 
 clings, therefore, anxiously to his divine teacher, and confi- 
 dence in his ready help, joined with the growing sense of 
 power, gradually frees him from the slavery of his fears. 
 With youth, his fear of falling is exchanged for a determina- 
 tion to run for the prize ; his aim is sure ; and as his previous 
 state required an anxious shunning of unholiness, his present 
 includes also the joyful pressing on after holiness. Still, how- 
 ever, his different powers have not been equally put forth : 
 some are too forward, others too backward. There is a quick- 
 ness of mental sight to catch the golden opportunities of 
 God's grace, to discern the workings of the Spirit, to disco- 
 ver on each occasion the will of his master ; there is confi- 
 dence in his means, strength in his arm, and resolution for 
 the struggle which he has to maintain. But the unwinking- 
 steadiness of observation, which faces the evil as boldly as it 
 hails the good; the patience Avhich is unwearied by slow 
 and lingering trial ; the caution which, gained from previous 
 defeat, will beware of a second temptation, however disguised 
 under a new aspect ; the pertinacity of hold which will not 
 forego an occasion of grace until he has extracted all its pre- 
 ciousness from it, — these belong to the grown man, whose 
 various powers being fully ripened, have found their proper 
 balance. And where is old age 1 It is not here. The new 
 man, the restored inhabitant of Paradise, is immortal ; and all 
 
NATURAL AND SPIRITUAL BIRTH. 153 
 
 his sojourn on earth is employod in attaining to a manhood, 
 which can never be perfected in the mortal body, nor shall 
 ever cease in the immortal. 
 
 The right use and diligent exercise of these faculties, ac- 
 quired under our education by the Holy Spirit, is as neces- 
 sary to our spiritual health as those of the body, under the 
 continual influence of its peculiar Creator, are to its vigour and 
 perfection ; misemployment or neglect not only prevent pro- 
 gress, but also cause them to recede ; derangement ensues, 
 and disease, day after day, closes up some organ of commu- 
 nication with the world of spirit, till at last an exclusion, a 
 spiritual death, ensues^ Meanwhile, their proper use and 
 improvement is attended with pleasurable feelings analogous 
 to those which accompany a healthy growth of the body ; and 
 as the youth hails with delight the increasing supplies of sta- 
 ture and streaigth, which, by God's bounty, are flowing in so 
 fast upon him, so tlie born of the Spirit enjoys the conscious- 
 ness of continually increasing strength of spiritual grace, the 
 development of one faculty, the ripening of another, by which 
 he is enabled to soar still higher above mere earthly existence, 
 and arrive at a closer communication with the Father of Spirits. 
 
 No analogy, however, can be perfect : sooner or later the 
 parallel must fail. In the case now before us, we must re- 
 member that, while we are perfect denizens of the sensible 
 ^'orld, we are at the same time but imperfectly admitted to 
 tlie spiritual. In some points, therefore, this analogy of flesh 
 rand spirit can be but fairly traced, in others will fail alto- 
 gether. For instance ; in the former, so powerful are our 
 instincts, that no perversion of our reasoning faculties (and 
 this has been attempted) can resist or overcome them : but in 
 the latter, owing to our imperfect tenure of it, their resistance 
 may be surmounted by wily argument, and the consequence 
 is more dreadful in the proportion of a spiritual to a corporeal 
 death. Therefore they must be guarded and obeyed with all 
 diligence : they are as necessary to our spiritual welfare, as 
 the belief of first principles is to that of the mind, — as the 
 continuance of its various involuntary motions to that of the 
 body. Let the Christian, therefore, beware how he argues 
 against an instinctive reluctance of spirit. Let him content- 
 edly abide the charge of obstinacy, because he cannot assign 
 his reasons for it; and demand, in return, of the man of 
 argument, why he turns away from a precipice, avoids a 
 raging torrent, shuns a devouring fire. We may be assured 
 o2 ' 
 
154 ON THE ANALOGY OF THE 
 
 that whenever reasoning is employed to stifle this internal 
 protest, whether from ourselves or from others, it is supplied 
 by the father of lies : is a net laid for our feet by the un- 
 wearied craft of the enemy of our salvation, who would will- 
 ingly quench the life-giving spirit within us, aird reduce us 
 once more to the mortal bondage of the flesh. 
 
 Again, our spiritual creation is not independent, like that 
 of our body, of any previous existence. It presupposes all 
 along the ruder elements of our moral nature ; and before we 
 can acquire new principles peculiar to the spiritual world, 
 such as maintain our intercourse with the sensible must have 
 been moulded anew, received a different bias, taken another 
 channel. 
 
 We have not only to learn, but to unlearn, and one of the 
 most delightful feelings with which God rewards our spiritual 
 improvement, is the discovery at length of a task which can 
 satisfy our noblest faculties, — one in which alone we find 
 them to act in perfect unison with concentrated effect, and 
 this our complicated mental frame, to show forth all the har- 
 mony designed by the hand of its Creator. It is a feeling 
 analogous to that of manhood, when it finds the proper direc- 
 tion and combined effect of those powers which had been 
 lavished separately, and without object, on the trifles of child- 
 hood. For example : — the Christian who had formerly found, 
 as he thought, his powers of understanding so vigorous, so 
 acute, so suitably employed in the questions of policy, litera- 
 ture, or science, discovers now that they were coarse, blunt, 
 inadequate, and unsuitably emplo3xd, compared with those 
 to which, in the service of the spirit, they have now ripened, 
 when his judgment has grown up to that intuitive and ex- 
 quisite discernment of God's will, that nice selection, amid 
 the daily mass of occasions placed before him, of what shall 
 contribute best to his own spiritual health, and most redound 
 to the honour- and glory of his Saviour; setting apart, with 
 unhesitating distinction, profit?ible from unprofitable, holy 
 from unholy, lasting from fleeting, what is of God from what 
 is of man ; when his power of abstraction is spent no longer 
 on unpractical dreams, but grasps real spiritual essences ; 
 when his foresight pushes far beyond the boundaries of life ; 
 and when his power of attention has become an absorption, 
 by which he can shake off" at will the distracting intrusion of 
 the world. 
 
 Meanwhile, the power of imagination, that fruitful source 
 
NATURAL AND SPIRITUAL BIRTH. 155 
 
 of virtue and crime, of joy and sorrow, controlled now in its 
 course by those improved powers, fastens upon what is pure, 
 turns away from what is impure. It draws out before him, 
 in visible series, God's mercies and dealings with mankind ; 
 it brings home to his heart all that is detailed in Holy Scrip- 
 ture, of his suffering and triumphant Saviour ; embodies his 
 holy attributes, renders sensible his presence, and continually 
 holds up to his mind that which it is his prime object to 
 realize, the model of the X^hristian character ; depicturing all 
 his graces and acquirements, suggesting his pure and un- 
 worldly sentiments, his towering thoughts, his unceasing 
 homage to God, unwearied charity to man, his meekness, pa- 
 tience, hope, fortitude, and presenting his crown of everlast- 
 ing glory, and the peace of the world to come. 
 
 Similar, too, is the improvement of his affections, which 
 being, in the first instance, generated and nurtured by healthy 
 exercise upon their proper objects on earth, and thence lifted 
 up to God, their final object, in whom alone they find their 
 craving satisfied, and object permanent, return upon the ob- 
 jects of daily duty, endued with a constancy superior to all 
 caprice of chance or change, founded upon a new and unfail- 
 ing basis. The Christian loves, for Christ loved him ; for- 
 gives, for through Christ he was forgiven ; is humble, for he 
 is a fellow in sin; is charitable, for he is a brother in redemp- 
 tion ; is patient, for he is an heir of salvation. Even the 
 commonest gifts and qualities grow up into estimable Chris- 
 tian graces ; passive good nature is exalted into active charity, 
 sanguine temper into lively hope, flow of spirits into angelic 
 cheerfulness, diffidence into humility, a quiet spirit into forti- 
 tude, contentment into devotion. 
 
 Thus, from his communion with the spiritual world, the 
 Christian comes as from the presence of God, with his 
 faculties refined and affections purified, carrying into the 
 world of flesh around him, like Moses from the mountain, 
 traces of the high communion in which he has been engaged. 
 But his illumination is not of the face, but of the mind ; not 
 to be done away, but introductory to greater. 
 
 Such are a few of the coincidences which may be brought 
 forward to illustrate the analogy of the growth of body and 
 spirit, the Holy Ghost supplying a continual inspiration of 
 life to its creature, just as the Creator supplies the breath of 
 his nostrils to the man. It is difficult perhaps to pursue such 
 an analogy far, without inadvertently falling into the error of 
 
156 ON THE ANALOGY OP THE 
 
 describing spiritual operations as too mncli allied to corpo- 
 real ; and much caution is required in drawing deductions 
 from metaphorical illustrations, where the line of correct 
 doctrine can be kept only by incessant reference to other 
 considerations, which haste, or the natural fondness of push- 
 ing- an analogy, is too apt to overlook. None, however, will 
 dispute the conclusion, that spiritual amendment must be a 
 work of time. Its commencement, indeed, must, like our 
 birth into the sensible world, be momentary, whether it be 
 referred to our entrance by baptism into the Church of the 
 Christ and God, or to the first awakening impression of spi- 
 ritual things upon the worldly-minded heart. But we may 
 as well expect the perfect man to issue from his mother's 
 womb, as conceive the Christian to be completely formed in 
 the instant of his first turning his heart from the world to 
 God. Were we to proceed with the analogy, we should 
 conclude, inasmuch as the nobler creature is longer in arriving 
 at maturity, and as the creature thus born admits neither of 
 old age nor of death, that the spiritual man was longer in 
 forming than the natural. Not, however, to insist upon this, 
 it must be borne in mind that there is a long process to be 
 undergone before a positive growth in spirit can be said to 
 commence : previous affections must be weaned, passions 
 subdued, faculties diverted from a wrong channel. And, 
 moreover, let it be remembered, that the full measure of the 
 gifts of the Holy Spirit is not poured upon the mind at once : 
 it is distributed by successive portions, increasing in propor- 
 tion to what is already maintained and turned to its proper 
 account there. For, as our Lord himself says, "To him that 
 hath shall much be given, and from him that hath not shall 
 be taken away, even what he hath." 
 
 Great, therefore, on every consideration, is the danger of 
 procrastination, and even to speak of the past in the solemn 
 phrase of lost moments never to be recovered, is to express 
 but half of the melancholy truth. For every one of these 
 moments, however swift of foot, or light of burden, has left 
 its impression for good or for evil upon the mind, according to 
 its state, clean or unclean ; just as the same outward impress- 
 ions which bring health to healthy organs, but aggravate 
 the disease of the unhealthy. There is no middle point : if 
 we go not forward, we go backward; if we be not standing, 
 we are falling; if we be not in health, we are in decay. Do 
 we delay on the idea of being able to commence the work of 
 
NATURAL AND SPIRITUAL BIRTH. 157 
 
 religious amendment, and start into newness of life, at will ? 
 Every consideration is opposed to an idea confessedly so 
 absurd, and yet so commonly acted upon. It is indeed a 
 strong' proof of our delusion, that, with the analogy of the 
 body before our eyes, and that body, too, often suffering for 
 the sins of the mind, we should think to resume our moral 
 health at pleasure : that while months, and even years, of 
 painful and cautious regimen, are often necessary to re-estab- 
 lish the one, a few hurried days are at all times sufficient for 
 the restoration of the other. That wound, and bruise, and 
 putrifying sOre, which for the best part of life have been 
 cankering and eating into the mind, shall cease at once their 
 horrid repast, upon the bare expression of our wish for health, 
 and sorrow for their origin. 
 
 The human mind, however inattentive we may be to its 
 operations, is all along growing up towards a certain system : 
 feelings are becoming rooted, thoughts are interlacing one 
 with another, according to some predominant principle, which 
 at last, assuming sovereign sway, excludes all such as will 
 not bend to the general organization which it has established. 
 If this principle, therefore, have nothing in common with the 
 Gospel of Jesus Christ, it will in the end effectually exclude 
 all sense of its necessity, and almost of its existence ; and 
 if it be not actually the Gospel of Christ, it will admit but 
 of partial views of that which w^e ought to comprehend as a 
 whole. Languor and listlessness are the consequence, and 
 repeated stumbling, from ignorance and carelessness, makes 
 us disgusted with the road which has been pointed out. We 
 are blaming in our hearts the severity of God, when we have 
 to complain only of our own want of energy ; and accusing 
 the niggardness of light, which our earnest and sincere exer- 
 tion is, according to his holy promise, assured of obtaining 
 in satisfjdng fulness. 
 
 It is in perfect accordance with this narrowness of view, to 
 sit down in idle expectation of some peculiar summons to 
 begin upon the work of newness of life, as if all had not been 
 summoned by their acquaintance with that Gospel, in the 
 very front of which it is written, — " Repent, for the kingdom 
 of heaven is at hand ;" as if all required that palpable inter- 
 ference which called the apostle of the Gentiles to his vast 
 and extraordinary charge. But have they indeed had no call? 
 Has God never been challenging their attention amid the 
 multifarious incidents which he has strewn in their daily 
 
158 ON THE ANALOGY OF THE 
 
 course, and the many desires or reluctances with which he has 
 informed their spirit 1 Have tliey no remembrance of resolu- 
 tions formed from time to time, none of hours of repentance, 
 none of hours of hope, none of hours of that holy calm which 
 instantly overspreads the bosom when it has formed some 
 pious determination "? All these were consequent upon some 
 call of God, and are evidences that he has not been forgetful of 
 them. But if they pass by such as these, in expectation of 
 something more rousing, more special, of what nature may 
 we reasonably conclude that to be which they await so com- 
 placently ? God's ordinary dealings with man lead us to 
 presume that it will come in the shape of some overwhelm- 
 ing visitation, which shall scatter their habitual frame of 
 thought to the winds, dissevering all their usual links, and 
 turning them with their affections from earth, weeping and 
 dropping blood like the fabled myrtle ; so that all being once 
 again disentangled, they may grow together anew according 
 to a new principle, which is Christ in the mind and in the 
 heart. O, let no one wait for such a call as this to his duty ! 
 We have now but just advanced within the commencement 
 of one of those revolutions of time by which we number the 
 days of our sojourn upon earth; a period upon which the 
 most careless are accustomed to bestow some reflections ; — 
 for who can avoid throwing back a look upon days now 
 parted for ever, and upon time which can never be recovered? 
 Happy he who, in his present state of mind and practice, can 
 find substantial records of past moments : to him, though 
 bodily, they are not spiritually, past ; they have an indissolu- 
 ble link with the future, — they are the palpable earnest of eter- 
 nal life, — the first-fruits, picked here and there, of an abundant 
 harvest. Far different, indeed, is he whose restrospect is but 
 a dream of barren thoughts and idle pursuits, where all is in 
 wild disorder without the one grand object to unite them, and 
 runs from the grasp of memory as freely as the sands of the 
 hour-glass which have measured those precious moments. 
 To him may well be addressed the words of the apostle, — 
 " Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and 
 Christ shall give thee ligbt," for he has been indeed sleeping; 
 and the dreamer has been indulging, amid darkness and night, 
 in fantastic and unbridled thoughts; he has been enjoying a 
 world of his own, where he himself has been creator, and not 
 God, where all has gone according to his own capricious 
 imagination, and the will of God has found no place ; the 
 
NATURAL AND SPIRITUAL BIRTH. 159 
 
 sights and sounds of God's world have been excluded, and. 
 he has wasted the precious moments, reckless of place, insen- 
 sible to the lapse of time, holding converse with unsubstan- 
 tial beings, expending his affections upon fleeting shadows. 
 
 "Life is a dream," said the natural man. Let no Chris- 
 tian account of it so ; for it is to him a time allotted by God 
 for beginning and completing a most momentous work, — a 
 work which is sufficient to fill up every part of it, to whatever 
 length it may be extended, — which requires the ardour of 
 youth, the steadiness of manhood, and the caution of old age. 
 Let him not, therefore, defer an employment, the very com- 
 mencement of which becomes daily more unsuitable to his 
 years, and be like the tree which, when it should be bearing 
 fruit, is but blossoming ; for thus the very purpose of life will 
 be eluded, and a work, whose difficulties demand the pride 
 and bloom of the faculties, will be first imposed upon them in 
 their decay ; and what requires unabated vigour, unwearied 
 watchfulness, unexhausted spirits, will be reserved for a bed 
 of sickness, or decline of years, seasons of langour, indiffer- 
 ence, and irresolution. True it is, that highly-gifted men 
 have before now spoken in fond and complacent anticipation 
 of setting apart some work, as the suitable employment and 
 fit solace of their old age. But how different was the nature 
 of that work from that which we have in contemplation. 
 That was a work pleasingly associated with the past, not 
 anxiously connected with the prospect of the future ; it was a 
 natural confirmation of previous habits, not a violent altera- 
 tion ; it was an amusement, not a toil ; a minister to the 
 mind, of pleasure, and not of pangs. 
 
 To-day, therefore, while it is called to-day, the work should 
 commence. Who knows what impediments the morrow may 
 bring 1 It may bring friends to delude, or enemies to con- 
 found ; it may introduce calamity to bewilder our senses, 
 sickness to paralyze our exertions, or death to cut short at 
 once our miserable vacillation. 
 
 Each day, as it successively becomes to-day, is all that we 
 can call our own : let us make it truly God's too, by dedi- 
 cating it to his service, in sincere endeavours, by newness of 
 life here, to realize the promise of everlasting life in the world 
 to come, which he has given us in Christ Jesus our Saviour. 
 
160 
 
 DISSERTATION XII. 
 
 ON THE REWARD OF OBEDIENCE. 
 
 But we trusted that it should have been he which should have 
 redeemed Israel. — Luke xxiv. 21. 
 
 A PRIZE no less than everlasting happiness is proposed to the 
 endeavours of man when he diligently seeks God. We have 
 already seen that the expectation of this, which is so neces- 
 sary both to engage him in the struggle of well-doing in the 
 first instance, and to support him in it ever afterwards, was 
 held forth from the very beginning of the Church; and Scrip- 
 ture assures us that it was earnestly cherished by Enoch, by 
 Job, by Abraham,* by Moses, — testimony being also borne to 
 the latter in a very remarkable passage (Matth. xxii. 31), by 
 the great Bishop of our souls himself, and in short, distinctly 
 informs us that it was a doctrine of the Patriarchal and Jewish 
 church."!' 
 
 From the first to the last prophecy, the ground of this hope 
 is laid in a Redeemer to come ; but the way in which God 
 drew the attention of the members of his church upon it is 
 different. 
 
 On that second apostacy of man, which drew on the dread- 
 ful visitation of the flood, God treated him as a creature in a 
 still lower state of degradation ; he dealed with him as with 
 a wayward child, who is to be won to obedience by cates and 
 delicacies, and not, as with a man, by cogency of reason. 
 Man's spiritual sight had become so dim, that he could not 
 look on the distant prospect of another life, without some 
 
 * See Hebr. xi. 5, 10, 13, 14, 24. 
 
 t lb. 39, &c. The whole chapter is opposed to Bishop Warbur- 
 ton's paradox. 
 
ON THE REWARD OF OBEDIENCE. 161 
 
 middle point. To' the original promise, therefore, of everlast- 
 ing happiness, still remembered, he added that of temporal 
 bliss, so that the completion of the one promise may remind 
 and assure him of the certainty of the other also ; that the 
 taste of blissfulness, however fleeting, yet coming expressly 
 from God, might lead his infant appetites to appreciate the 
 promised happiness which should endure for ever, and that 
 the toils and delays which are rewarded by the one may give 
 him experience, and render him patient, long-suffering, un- 
 broken in hope, under the still more serious difficulties to be en- 
 countered, through a still longer interval of suspense in the 
 course of attaining the other. Hence Noah was both assured 
 against a repetition of the calamity of the flood, and at the 
 same time comforted with promises of fruitfulness and in- 
 crease. As apostacy revives and increases, God at length 
 interferes again, and deals with man as reduced a degree 
 lower still. For under the Jewish dispensation, a grand 
 feature of which was the settling that chosen people in a land 
 flowing with milk and honey, so completely is the promise 
 directed to temporal things, that we need not wonder why 
 that carnal people, in despite of their prophets, continually re- 
 calling them to the original and universal spiritual promise, 
 should have fondly imagined that themselves were the end, 
 and not the vehicle, and that the magnificent series of words 
 and deeds proposed by God to their ear and eye, referred but 
 to their own national aggrandizement. Of this prevailing 
 state of feeling we have a signal example in the words of the 
 text, which come to us with peculiar interest as being uttered 
 by men whose lives, being partly under the old dispensation 
 and partly under the new, (of which themselves, under Christ, 
 were founders,) exhibited in the first all the pride and car- 
 nality of the Jew, in the second, all the charity and spirituality 
 of the Christian. These eminent and godly persons were 
 among the first who grew up from the childhood, under which 
 mankind was formerly considered in God's dealings, to the 
 manhood of the Gospel, under which consideration we are 
 now treated. 
 
 This manner of God's dealing with his chosen people will 
 appear more peculiar and distinct, if we refer to the situation 
 of the Gentiles. They had lost the original promise, or only 
 knew it by a tradition so faint and so corrupt, that its influ- 
 ence was completely lost upon their moral conduct. They 
 had no reward proposed to their obedience in this life, or in 
 P 
 
162 ON THE REWARD OF OBEDIENCE. 
 
 the next. What a contrast do they present to the people of 
 God, even taking these latter at their very lowest degradation ! 
 In them we see to vv^hat our nature was indeed reduced by 
 Adam's transgression, before yet it was raised again from the 
 dust by God's gracious promise. Though he had lost both 
 the possession and expectation of perfect happiness, man had 
 still the appetite for it. So far from satisfying him, every 
 enjoyment administered a craving for one more intense still ; 
 and while the beast lay down satisfied after his meal, and 
 reckless of the future, man in his happiest moments was un- 
 happy still, for he was still unsatisfied. In vain the philoso- 
 pher sought the chief good, advanced from a bright to a 
 brighter ; still something remained behind to attain, and of 
 that he in vain attempted to ascertain the nature. The search 
 led him into a dim and tangled region, and there left him in 
 miserable perplexity. 
 
 Thus was the Jew, in his temporal blessings, continually 
 rebuked for his unmindfulness of the great spiritual blessing, 
 and the Heathen abandoned to his ignorance of both, when, in 
 the fulness of time, the original spiritual promise given to 
 Adam, was accomplished in Jesus Christ. The restoration 
 of man was now accomplished ; a new heaven and a new 
 earth had been created, and man also morally created anew in 
 the second Adam. The life to come, with all its preparatory 
 means, had been actually exemplified before the eyes of the 
 world. Man, therefore, henceforward needed no intermediate 
 object to draw him on ; he rested at once upon the great end, 
 which was now near, certain, and continually in sight. In 
 this change of circumstances, can we wonder that the order of 
 the objects of our aim is reversed, so that when any temporal 
 blessing is pronounced, it is merely by the way, and quite 
 accidental to the spiritual one ; that we should be told to seek 
 first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and then all 
 these things shall be added unto us ; and that while their ex- 
 pectation of spiritual good should be fed and maintained by 
 the experience of temporal good, so our consciousness of pos- 
 session should be proved by the trial of temporary evil ? 
 Here, indeed, lies one great point of contrast ; here the spi- 
 rituality of our dispensation is peculiarly shown. Where 
 temporal blessings are a reward, and therefore temporal afflic- 
 tions are naturally looked upon as a punishment, man, who is 
 born to sorrow as the sparks fly upward, must have felt as 
 under continual bondage. He must ever be either suffering 
 
ON THE REWARD OP OBEDIENCE. 163 
 
 the scourge, or in continual apprehension of it. And though, 
 as appears from Scripture, good men had imbibed, through 
 God's revelation, proper and spiritual notions on the nature of 
 affliction, yet this did not accord with the deduction generally 
 drawn from the law, and was rather the easing of the yoke to 
 a favoured few, than the removal of it from any one. The 
 very promise of the Holy Land, had been accompanied with 
 threats of expulsion; and as that was the title to all his joy, 
 so would these impart a character to affliction. If one was 
 the reward of obedience, the other was the punishment of dis- 
 obedience. When, too, the Jew looked to his history for the 
 comfort of examples of affliction, if it presented him_ the in- 
 stance of Job, for this one it gave him many others of a very 
 different character. It offered to him Sampson, Eli, Saul, and 
 David, all suffering for heavy transgressions, and bearing in 
 their body the marks of the scourge of divine vengeance. 
 But now to us Christians, since temporal blessings are but acci- 
 dentally our reward, of course bodily sufferings are but ac- 
 cidentally our punishment; and in the greater number of 
 instances can be regarded but as the turning away of our face 
 from the importunate allurement of temporal enjoyment to the 
 contemplation of spiritual ; as the call given to inattention, — 
 as the warninofs to consider the fleeting state of all around, — as 
 the race to be run before winning the crown, — as the refinmg 
 fire whence the saint issues forth as pure and undressed gold. 
 Therefore they have been proclaimed to us in company with 
 our everlasting inheritance, by him who said, " Blessed are 
 they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." They are not 
 a hindrance, but a preparation. And therefore where Noah 
 was promised the fatness of the earth, and Abraham enjoyed 
 its inheritance, we are warned to expect its toils and miseries ; 
 where they were bound closer to earth, we are rudely shaken 
 from it ; where they were bidden to go to its enjoyment, we 
 are sent to its denial. To us the world is indeed crucified, 
 nor have we to reck either of its blessings or its sorrows, ex- 
 cepting in so far as we regard them as vehicles of grace ; as 
 furnishing that state, and affording that scope of action, with- 
 out which the Christian character cannot be developed. 
 There is no soldier where there is no war, and no victory 
 where there is no battle. Then if we look round for compan- 
 ions in affliction, the very first who presents himself is the 
 great Captain of our salvation ; and we are amid the throng 
 of the holy army of martyrs, and all the elect of the Church 
 
164 ON THE REWARD OP OBEDIENCE. 
 
 of Christ. What need indeed have we of any pledge sup- 
 plied by bodily blessings, we who have a pledge so much 
 more palpable, so much more accordant with our state of spi- 
 ritual manhood ; a pledge in the earnest of the spirit, in a real 
 earnest, not in a gross carnal representation, but in an actual 
 portion of the bliss to come, communicated 'through the sanc- 
 tifying graces of the spirit. Thus we have actually a part of 
 our reward in our hands, and not the bare distant prospect be- 
 fore our eyes ; we see our freedom and election in the very 
 quarter where our predecessor, the Jew, saw his bondage and 
 reprobation. We are daily quelling, through these means, 
 some earthly enemy, rising from conquest to conquest ; con- 
 tinually casting off something of the old man, over which 
 Satan was victorious, and putting on something of the new, 
 which is victorious over Satan ; gradually growing into that 
 image which has been restored to our nature through our great 
 Redeemer, and approaching to that bliss of immortality, which, 
 lost by the first Adam, has been regained for us by the second. 
 
 But this peculiar condition of the Christian, demands also 
 peculiar considerations on his part. The life to come being 
 placed so very palpably and prominently before him, and cast- 
 ing into sTiadow all the toils and troubles of this life ; being 
 ever present to us as the grand feature of the Gospel, mingling 
 itself with all our thoughts and actions, it becomes so familiar 
 to our minds, — so completely a thing of course — that we 
 are apt to lose sight of the extraordinary value of the gift, and 
 to under-rate, if not cast out of account, the difficulties which 
 lie in the way of attaining it : we rest in the end, and become 
 too indifferent to the means. Let us now, therefore, proceed 
 to inquire into the view with which we should contemplate 
 this prize, referring, for the sake of illustration, to those con- 
 siderations which enhance the value of an earthly prize, and 
 which may be reduced, — first, to our inadequacy of desert; 
 second, to the distance from which the object once appeared 
 to be removed from us ; third, to the difficulties which have 
 been overcome in the way. 
 
 On the first ground, let us look into our own hearts, and 
 consider our nature as it is absolutely, without any relation to 
 what it has received from God's restoring grace. What a 
 scene is here ! Can we discern in it a single seed of ever- 
 lasting peace and joy T If it is to inherit such a blessed state, 
 surely we ought to espy some elements of such in its consti- 
 tution, and if the immortal principle, of which we feel con- 
 
ON THE REWARD OF OBEDIENCE. 165 
 
 scious within ourselves, assures us of a world to come, should 
 there not be corresponding traces in our frame of mind to as- 
 sure us, as initiary elements, of the peace, and joy, and purity, 
 of that world to come 1 But now let us look at that promised 
 state of blessedness and glory, and then withdraw our eyes, 
 to fix them upon our own bosoms. Can the tumult and dis- 
 quiet of the pride, the pangs of the evil passions, the darkness 
 of the ignorance which confront us here, have the least in 
 common with the dazzling brightness of the peace, and inno- 
 cence, and knowledge, which met us there I Can one, by any 
 natural possibility, lead to the other? So far from this, 
 would it not lead in a totally different direction 1 Yea, eter- 
 nal death itself had been a signal mercy, tiad we been left 
 thus by our offended Father in heaven. For that immortality, 
 of which we have the seeds within us, could then have been 
 no other than that enjoyed by the fallen angels ; a woful pro- 
 longation to all eternity of the misery and degradation ensu- 
 ing upon our apostacy. Had death, therefore, been our final 
 doom, we should even then have stood in the place of a par- 
 doned criminal. What shall we say, then, if God hath not 
 only pardoned this criminal, but even restored him to his for- 
 mer rank and state of enjoyment? For from that dreadful 
 immortality we have been rescued by our divine Redeemer; 
 so that passing from this earthly state of sin through death, 
 we may rise again to an immortality still more glorious than 
 that in which the first man was placed. Can we arrive at 
 any thing like a due estimate of this so great mercy ; may we 
 not despair of so doing in the words of the apostle, — " O the 
 depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of 
 God ! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways 
 past finding out." (Rom. xi. 33.) 
 
 Let us add to this the price at which this seeming impos- 
 sibility of the union of our sinful nature with everlasting in- 
 nocence and joy, has been purchased, being no less than the 
 sacrifice of the Son of God in human nature upon the cross. 
 What shall we say of the value of the prize proposed to us 1 
 Let the purest, the most heavenly-minded among us, care- 
 fully look into his bosom, discuss his own words, thoughts, 
 and deeds, endeavour thus to discover his own real position, 
 and then gaze up at the place to which his Redeemer's merits 
 have advanced him. He will confess his own utter ineffable 
 unworthiness, and adore the unspeakable love of Him who 
 brought him the gift, and own, with tears of thankfulness and 
 p2 
 
166 ON THE REWARD OF OBEDIENCE. 
 
 joy, its inestimable value. The cross, with all its previous 
 and accompanying sorrows, pangs, and humiliation, led the 
 way to the glorification of our human nature in Jesus Christ. 
 On this contrast we should fix our look : reading in the one the 
 extreme of misery and sin into which man had fallen, behold-' 
 ing the price, exceeding all powers of calculation, which was 
 requisite to procure his redemption, to free him from the ser- 
 vitude of a tyrannous master, loth to forego his hold of a slave 
 so manageable, in the possession of whom he enjoyed the 
 consciousness of his power ; and seeing in the other the ex- 
 ceeding bliss, such as never could enter into the thoughts of 
 man, which is laid in store for him in the world to come. 
 From this constant contemplation let him learn the utter in- 
 adequacy of his own deserts of eternal happiness ; and in full 
 reliance on the merits of his Saviour's sufferings, in deep hu- 
 mility at his own total unworthiness, looking to the end in 
 steady and joyful hope, so work out his own salvation with 
 fear and trembling. 
 
 On the second ground, we carry into our consideration of 
 this heavenly prize, the same short-sighted and paltry views 
 as we take up in our pursuit of earthly objects. Of these, 
 whatever their intrinsic value may be, we are accustomed to 
 prefer such as require least time to be passed in the toil of 
 attainment; so that a very inferior object, attainable through 
 a short interval, shall be preferred to a far more excellent, 
 coming after a long period of labour and expectation. Thus 
 we think and act, because time, in proportion to its length, 
 admits of so many more intervening accidents, of so many 
 more competitions, of so much more which may snatch the 
 prize from our grasp. And thus the more splendid prizes of 
 life being apparently removed from any given individual's 
 attainment, seem in expectation the common property of 
 all, — are admired, talked of, but never seriously striven after, 
 except by minds of deep foresight and energy, which, fully 
 aware of the difficulties, have also determined to overcome 
 them. Now, though much of this habit of thought be inap- 
 plicable in the case before us, since neither rivals nor fortune 
 can disappoint our exertions, still from inveterate habit we 
 carry it into the consideration of this heavenly reward ; which, 
 excellent beyond the utmost power of our estimation, as all 
 readily allow it to be, yet is placed at a far greater distance 
 still than the remotest of earthy prizes, being even beyond 
 the boundaries of this life. We prefer, therefore, though not 
 
ON THE REWARD OP OBEDIENCE. 1G7 
 
 in speculation, yet certainly in practice, any of the mean and 
 fleeting enjoyments of the world present; and as a small 
 object placed before the eye will cover the largest at a dis- 
 tance, so do the worthless prizes of this life, one succeeding 
 to the other, cover from view the glorious reward of the life 
 to come. It is well for us if we can obtain a steady glimpse 
 or two between the intervals of this succession ; and better 
 still if we can retain the impression which has been made. 
 But moreover, those very points which render our mode of 
 contemplating earthly prizes inapplicable here, add to our 
 carelessness. Where the chances of fortune are removed, all 
 seems to be certainty ; internal impediments are forgotten, 
 where external do not obtrude on our sight, — where all may 
 obtain, all are slack ; and thus the small degree of exer- 
 tion which is seen around them, comes at last to most men to 
 appear quite adequate to the end, and they bestow indiscrimi- 
 nately on themselves and their friends, the certain expectation 
 of this precious inheritance, when neither they nor them- 
 selves have moved perhaps a foot, or lifted so much as a 
 hand, or directed even an eye towards the desire of its attain- 
 ment. 
 
 On the third ground, of the difliculties to be surmounted, 
 men are apt to run into extremes, — the reckless never bestow 
 a thought upon them, — those who for the first time opening 
 their eyes to the prospect of eternity, are too apt to be scared 
 at the awful front which they present : habitual contemplation 
 alone can place them in their proper point of view, and ad- 
 minister a wholesome fear to the carelessness of the one, and 
 supply a cheerful hope to the despondency of the other. If 
 the attainment be indeed so easy, to what purpose were the 
 incredible toils and sufferings of the apostles, and all the 
 martyrs and confessors of the church ? If it be so insurmount- 
 ably difficult, who even of that glorious company can be pro- 
 nounced among the saved ] But however impossible to man, 
 this is possible to God ; and his grace preventing and further- 
 ing us, will gain us the victory in the end. Without this 
 all human exertion were indeed vain : as well would man 
 attempt to move the earth towards heaven. While we have 
 the assurance of this help from above, who shall despond, 
 who rather shall not be sanguine 1 But let him be sanguine, 
 and derive the testimony to the possession of this grace, from 
 the consciousness of his own exertions ; let him expect grace 
 from God's promise ; let him find its possession from his own 
 
168 ON' THE REWARD OF OBEDIENCE. 
 
 operations. But the number of the despondents is few indeed, 
 compared with that of the confident. Let, then, these latter 
 open the page of Scripture, and read what is told them there. 
 Are we not there told that our fleshy appetites must be cruci- 
 fied, even as our Lord was crucified; that if we think to 
 enjoy with Christ, we must also suffer with himi that we are 
 soldiers in a warfare, wrestlers in a struggle, runners in a 
 race "? that our best human affections may be taken captive, 
 that our faith may suffer shipwreck, that our surest foot may 
 slide or stumble 1 and thus by a multitude of similar figures 
 scattered throughout, are we not continually called back from 
 that state of the good easy man in which we are so fond of 
 indulging, — awakened from that drowsiness which is so often 
 surprising us % And yet all this w^hile, that we are indifferent 
 to the labours which shall find our only true reward, we will 
 not cease forsooth from those toils which bring the rewards 
 of this life, paltry and fleeting though they be. O no ! we 
 will put body and mind on the rack ; w^e will sacrifice peace, 
 yea, even of the mind ; surrender all comforts of the body ; 
 rising early and taking rest late, looking ever steadfastly and 
 patiently to the end. All this we will do, and yet shrink 
 from the exertions which lead to eternal life. God give us 
 grace and wisdom to estimate the nature of those exertions, 
 as superior in excellence to such as procure an earthly prize, 
 as their reward is. These are often hurtful, even fatal to 
 bodily health : those nourish our spiritual health. These 
 prepare the way of death, those of everlasting life. This 
 struggle brings into play all the uneasy disquieting affections 
 of our corrupt nature, — anger, envy, jealousy, discontent, 
 strife ; nay, even heresy, sedition, and murder. While that 
 developes all the Christian graces, unfolds our best affections, 
 long suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temper- 
 ance. This may indeed, at best, serve to keep the mind, by 
 means of occupation, from sundry temptations ; but that puts 
 it beyond all possible reach of them. That, is a spirit dis- 
 pelling the whole train of temptations ; this, is often slack 
 and interrupted, because of the uncertainty of the prize. To 
 that the prize is as certain as the word of God, who is truth, 
 is true. This, may be given up through despair, on our en- 
 countering more powerful competitors : that, is encouraged, 
 and never can be depressed by rivalry. Here only one can 
 attain, there all may be rewarded. This, we may have an 
 aversion to engage in on good principles ; that, we can never 
 
ON THE REWARD OP OBEDIENCE. 169 
 
 relinquish but upon bad. Sad humiliating testimony all this 
 to the corruption of our nature, which will so readily under- 
 take the former ; so uniformly and willingly turn from the 
 latter. 
 
 And what right have we, restless indefatigable wordlings, 
 to complain of difficulties 1 do we not consider that the very 
 difficulties which obstruct the road of attainment, enhance 
 the value of an earthly prize ; and does not this enhanced 
 value reflect in return upon the difficulties, and lighten their 
 burden 1 and shall we refuse this cheering solace in seeking 
 a heavenly prize ; and shall we who can be so patient in 
 working even against God, and at all events without God, 
 become desponding the moment that we begin to work with 
 him, and he with us 1 
 
 But some one may here object that we have a clear view 
 of our earthly prizes, and an understanding of them so dis- 
 tinct that we know exactly how to time, to temper, and to 
 direct our exertions ; we know when to lie down in security 
 against their loss, when to rise up in the certainty of their 
 attainment, and thus we work our way onward with the 
 cheerful willingness arising from knowing that our exertions 
 are proportionate. But we are to a very great extent ignorant 
 of the nature of our heavenly prize, except that no exertions 
 of man can of themselves be proportionate, and, therefore, we 
 cannot experience that readiness and reasonable confidence. 
 Now, in answer to this we may be content to ask this simple 
 question : Are our notions indeed so clear concerning the 
 nature of the objects of our worldly exertions 1 What, in- 
 deed ! do we never find them on attainment vastly inferior to 
 the appearance which they made when in prospect 1 do we 
 always find them a resting-point upon the past, or but the 
 commencement of fresh and still more wearying toils to 
 come ] do we find them all that we expected, or of an entirely 
 contrary nature, — opposed as gall to honey, as war to peace, 
 as life to death, — and telling us that we have sown the wind, 
 and reaped the whirlwind 1 do we set up there our staff of rest, 
 or on our arrival hear a voice cry out, " On, on," and find at 
 this long-expected stage of bliss, that to stay is imminent 
 hazard, to go on is destruction, to return is an impossibility? 
 If faithful experience informs us thus of our real ignorance of 
 the true nature of our earthly prizes, shall we carp at our 
 everlasting reward, which indeed is not, as they are, contrary 
 to our previous notions, but infinitely surpassing them ; while 
 
170 ON THE REWARD OF OBEDIENCE. 
 
 more of its nature has been revealed, there is more than enough 
 to engage us with all confidence to seek to attain. What ! do 
 not these objectors take measures for length of life 1 here is 
 life eternal. Do they not strive for fading earthly crowns T 
 here is an everlasting heavenly crown. Do they not covet 
 peace, rest, joy, gladness ? here is peace, rest, joy, gladness, 
 unutterable, inextinguishable. All that is lovely, all that is 
 of good report, all that is truly desirable in the prizes of this 
 world is to be found here, and in a higher state of perfection 
 in the proportion of heaven to earth ; nay more, even our 
 sense of enjoyment, exquisite as it may seem, and full of 
 blessing to us, even when most spiritualized, — is but an ele- 
 ment, poor and beggarly, of that taste of unutterable bliss, 
 which shall be the joy of the world to come. Independently, 
 therefore, even of God's constant help and encouragement, 
 we work onwards in this case with a more reasonable hope 
 than in the case of the most assured, best understood, and 
 most highly valued of earthly prizes. Again, what right 
 have we to complain of difficulties, if he who hath proposed 
 the prize hath duly forewarned us of them, — hath directed us 
 how to overcome them, and pledged to us his assistance in 
 overcoming them : when he has set both before us, shall we 
 think to take up the one without the other, the wages without 
 the labour 1 No, — to this latter we must direct our chief 
 attention, as the means to the former ; we must weigh well 
 the cost, and instead of resting in easy security on the end, 
 or looking with vain and ambitious curiosity into the nature 
 and degree of the fruition of the glory which God hath not 
 revealed, diligently address ourselves to the duties which he 
 has revealed, which he demands of us as heirs of that glory. 
 Our reward is indeed in heaven, but we and our work are 
 upon earth ; there is the bliss, and the life eternal ; here is 
 the Cross, and the grave : not that earth and his toils on earth 
 are to have the entire eye of the Christian, and that it shall 
 never be lifted up to take in the ample bright sky of bliss and 
 glory above. For to that glory, even the invisible glory 
 which the Son enjoys with the Father, every face in heaven 
 and in earth, of angels and of men, must be turned in rapt 
 contemplation, crying out in spirit to one another, " Holy, 
 holy, holy. Lord God of Host, heaven and earth are full of 
 thy glory." The contemplation of this is in fact the food of 
 intelligence to every rational being, in all gradations down to 
 man; and exclusion from this is to man that second death, 
 
ON THE REWARD OP OBEDIENCE. 171 
 
 which shuts out from the invisible realms of our Lord and 
 Master, even as the first does from the visible. This accord- 
 ing- to the degree of intensity with which it is viewed, assigns 
 to every intelligent being his rank in the creation, and its 
 degree of perception distinguishes the spiritual from the 
 natural man. But far different from such a contemplation is 
 the vain and curious anticipation of that glory which shall 
 be imparted to the faithful, in the kingdom of the next world; 
 for this, drawing away the attention from the work set before 
 us, no less than from the real glory before mentioned, is as 
 unsure and unfounded as it is impure and selfish. It is the 
 fabric of worldly lust and ambition, the heaven which we 
 build for ourselves on pride ; it is a view so gross and so 
 unworthy, that we cannot but embody it in our human pas- 
 sions and conceptions, — a state into which we admit ourselves 
 by thrusting others out, and therefore, like the disciples, 
 whose words have been quoted for the text, we shall be 
 grievously disappointed in the hour of trial. Whenever, 
 therefore, we do contemplate the glory which shall reward 
 the faithful servants of Christ, we must look at it with that 
 comprehensive glance, which shall at the same time include 
 all the difficulties which lie in the way ; with a heart set at 
 least as much upon suffering and overcoming the one, as upon 
 attaining and possessing the other. The future bliss will 
 thus be to us in spirit, what the sun is in the body to the man 
 who is intent upon his work before him. For that sun, while 
 it shines over his head, cheers him in his toils, lights him to 
 his labour, enabling him to direct his hand unerringly to its 
 object, and satisfies him with the consciousness of its pre- 
 sence, imprest by its effects ; yet will not bear long and di- 
 rect contemplation, without dazzling his sight, and rendering 
 the idle gazer inefficient for his work. And assuredly the 
 work set before the labourer in Christ's vineyard demands all 
 his clearness of vision, all his steadiness of contemplation ; that, 
 unseduced and undismayed by appearances, he may penetrate 
 through them into realities, turning away from unsubstantial 
 good to look with an unaverted eye upon danger and trouble, 
 — upon agony, the cross and the grave ; and thence at length 
 to gaze up in unshrinking hope at the glory which shall be 
 revealed in the end. 
 
 Having drawn a lesson from the errors of these two disci- 
 ples, let us derive anotlier from their correction of those er- 
 rors. If, at the moment of their uttering those despondent 
 
172 ON THE REWARD OF OBEDIENCE. 
 
 words, they were the predecessors of all those unstable 
 Christians, who, offended with the uncalculated and continual 
 struggle to be undergone by spirit against flesh ; thrown into 
 despair by the hourly jeopardy in which they are held by sur- 
 rounding trials and temptations ; and tost about by the fluc- 
 tuation of their own unsettled notions, and by winds of 
 diverse doctrines, and longing for rest and finding none, cry 
 out in their vexation and disappointment, " we thought it had 
 been he who should redeem Israel ;" — so also were they, in their 
 after-life, the predecessors of all those Christians, who have 
 persevered unshaken to the end, and have bequeathed to us a 
 glorious example of what the Spirit of God can effect in the 
 heart of man. They were among the captains of that noble 
 host of martyrs and confessors, who fought a long and un- 
 wearied fight, in the cause of their Master, against the world 
 and its prince ; who struggled daily, and daily triumphed, 
 against pains of body, pangs of mind ; who, familiar with 
 sorrow as their most intimate companion in this life, ate their 
 bread amid groans, and mingled their drink with tears ; to 
 whom all things came adverse ; whom nothing disheartened ; 
 to whom loss of fortune, loss of friends, cold, hunger, naked- 
 ness, and the sword, came as signals from their blessed 
 leader, — as in the crisis of a desperate battle, — to take up a 
 new and still more perilous post, and engage with redoubled 
 ardour ; who quitted the world as conquerors, leaving behind 
 them an enemy, with whom they had made no compromise, 
 to whom they had surrendered no fortress. 
 
173 
 
 DISSERTATION XIII. 
 
 THE PROFESSION OF A MEMBER OF THE CHURCH OF GOD. 
 
 Seeing then that we have a great High Priest, that is passed 
 into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our 
 profession. — Heb. iv. 14. 
 
 The word Profession is used in Scripture in two senses; 
 either properly, for the free acknowledgment of our belief in 
 the promises of God ; or improperly, for those promises them- 
 selves. Either sense will suit the passage before us, and 
 bring it to the same result in meaning. We will, however, 
 consider it in the former sense, inasmuch as it necessarily 
 implies the latter, and affords more scope for a full examina- 
 tion of the text. 
 
 At the moment when man is admitted into covenant with 
 God, or performs any act, as prayer or sacrifice, under that 
 covenant, it is necessary that he bring with him two things ; 
 namely, repentance, by which he shall renounce the past, 
 and faith, by which he shall accept the future ; meeting with 
 the one, the forgiveness of God, — with the other, his gifts of 
 grace and the life to come. These, which are the subjects of 
 his private acknowledgment before God, are also the grounds 
 of his profession before men. These supply the declarations 
 of his lips, these are the base and support of his practice. By 
 the uninterrupted exhibition of these in word and deed through 
 life, he holds fast his profession. 
 
 The nature of that repentance, and of that faith, as held in 
 the different stages of the church, we have already seen. 
 According as they are more deep and full, the profession will 
 be more strict and firm. There is, moreover, a circumstance 
 accompanying this profession, which requires our notice, and 
 which will be found to vary in the different periods. 
 
174 THE PROFESSION OF A MEMBER OF 
 
 In his communications with man, God deposits ever with 
 him some pledge by which to assure him. And thus we find 
 the inspired men of old, as Isaiah and Zachariah, demanding 
 of God a sign, in order to be certified of the reality of the 
 communication. Again, — societies formed amongst men 
 necessarily require some badge by which their members shall 
 be distinguished from the rest of mankind. When God, 
 therefore, establishes his covenant with a portion of mankind, 
 these two reasons will concur to distinguish them by a mark, 
 which, on the part of God, will be some symbol or represen- 
 tation of the benefit conferred ; on the part of man, a badge, 
 reminding him of his peculiarity amid the great body of man- 
 kind. Such marks are circumcision and baptism. 
 
 Where, then, it may be asked, is the mark impressed on the 
 member of the Patriarchal church 1 In the first place, since 
 this church contained all mankind, none could be necessary 
 on the part of man. Again, on the part of God, on whose 
 covenant with Adam that church was founded, the very exist- 
 ence of man, which had been forfeited, and then restored in 
 Adam, — the very sight of fellow men, — the very breath 
 which each each moment drew, was a symbol most significant 
 indeed ; a symbol, too, which, however added to, has never 
 been superseded. As we all, at this very day, bear in our 
 bodies the traces of the offence of Adam, so do we also of 
 his pardon. 
 
 It may also be asked, why, since in Christ the church is 
 once more opened to all mankind, is the badge of baptism 
 required] That it was necessary on the part of God, as 
 entering into covenant with man, we have seen. That it is 
 necessary on the part of man is evident, because, though all 
 are actually born of the flesh of the first Adam, all are but 
 potentially born in the spirit of the second Adam, and this 
 distinction will obtain to the end. The Patriarchal church 
 was founded in the hope of the Redeemer to come, — a hope 
 which would be the inheritance of all mankind down from 
 their head and representative: the Christian church was 
 founded on the accomplishment of the Redeemer come, and 
 men have no general representative under whom they can be 
 certified of this fact ; they must come to the knowledge of it 
 gradually and partially. This farther appears fiom the con- 
 nexion of baptism with circumcision. This latter rite exhib- 
 ited a twofold view, — one a temporal, which it confined to 
 the Jew, conveying to him his^right of inheritance to the 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 175 
 
 land of Canaan, and other privileges derived from his father 
 Abraham, and to which the mark in the flesh appertained as 
 the seal : the other a spiritual, admitting to the kingdom of 
 heaven all mankind, in virtue of the original covenant with 
 Adam, through means of his promised seed, which was now 
 restricted to the line of Abraham. To this belonged the cir- 
 cumcision of the heart, without which qualification it was 
 indiscernible ; and to this baptism is the successor, adminis- 
 tering in substance what this conveyed in hope. But as that 
 spiritual circumcision, though not represented, was conveyed 
 by the circumcision of the flesh, and as this latter is abolished 
 by the abolition of the law, a new seal must be established ; 
 and this seal is a lively symbol of the blessing conveyed. 
 It is immersion in water, which represents to us our death to 
 sin and new birth to righteousness, analogous to the death 
 and resurrection of Christ ; and also in the washing of our 
 bodies expresses the washing of our souls by the merits of 
 his blood, and their purification by the sanctifying graces of 
 the Holy Spirit. Aptly with its spiritual sense it leaves no 
 mark upon the flesh, but having performed the part of the 
 seal and sign of God's covenant, quits all farther hold of the 
 body, and surrenders the person to all his heavenly privileges. 
 Our profession, as compared with that of the Patriarch and 
 Jew, will be this. We profess, with them, to repent, and re- 
 nounce the world and its lusts ; to die to sin, and live again 
 unto righteousness. But we do this with such a death and 
 life being made especially imperative upon us, being also ac- 
 tually proposed and represented to us in the death and resur- 
 rection of the author of our forgiveness. We also profess our 
 entire faith in the truth of his promises. But the greater 
 part of what were promises to them are gifts to us ; and 
 such gifts as still remain in expectance, and not in pos- 
 session, are rendered distinct, appreciable, and certain from 
 the accomplishment of the others ; they have even been 
 exemplified to us : the life after death in the resurrection of 
 the Lord, the bounteous gifts of his spirit in the graces and 
 powers of his saints, from the day of Pentecost until now. 
 Thus our profession is distinctly marked out to us : there is 
 no room for doubt, no excuse for vacillation ; it is not sha- 
 dowy, so as to elude the grasp, it is not indefinite in any 
 point, so as at times to escape from it ; it is so substantial, 
 so comprehensible, that if we hold it not fast, the fault lies 
 with our own weakness and wavering. What had Adam, 
 
176 THE PROFESSION OP A MEMBER OP 
 
 what had Abraham, what had the Prophets for the grounds of 
 their profession, compared with this 1 Verily, the least in 
 the kingdom of heaven is greater than them all. 
 
 The most practical part of our profession lies in the re- 
 nunciation of the world, whose ways, having been far more 
 openly detected, and awfully condemned by the Gospel 
 than by anj-^ previous dispensation, we are more peculiarly 
 called upon to reprobate and abandon. What fellow-feeling 
 can a true child of God in Christ have with it 1 It is bent on 
 the joys and pleasures of this life, therefore the Cross of 
 Christ, with its crucifying afflictions, is a stumbling-block to 
 it. It is wise in its own conceit, and therefore that Cross is 
 foolishness to it ; it worships rank and power, and therefore 
 that Cross is contemptible to it. It loves its own will and 
 ways, and therefore that Cross is hateful to it. As the con- 
 vert in baptism takes a new name to show that he is a new 
 creature, so must he take up new names for the things of the 
 world, in which he moves as a new creature ; its joy will be 
 his sorrow, its good his evil, — in all things a new vocabulary 
 will be adopted. 
 
 The Jew bore on his body the mark of his calling in Abra 
 ham ; however, and wherever, he lived, his flesh bore testi- 
 mony to his being a member of that covenant which gave his 
 nation the inheritance to the land of Canaan. But our mark 
 must be on the spirit, as heirs of a spiritual kingdom, never 
 to be oblitered there. That mark must be a peculiarity of 
 thought, originating a peculiarity of action, by which we may 
 be distinguished from those without ; word, and thought, and 
 deed, must all have upon them the stamp of the cross of Christ. 
 Even where we are obliged, from our common nature, to feel 
 and do as other men, yet here we shall discover the mark of 
 our calling. This feeling and doing will go but a short way 
 with the world : if developed into any continued train of re- 
 flection, or expanded into any deliberate act, the eye will im- 
 mediately discover its peculiar form, and acknowledge in it 
 our profession. How should it be otherwise 1 We see how 
 deeply the characters and conversation of men are imbued 
 with the spirit of their worldly professions. The soldier, the 
 scholar, the merchant, carry each the peculiar stamp of their 
 occupation into their most free and disengaged moments. 
 Their thoughts cannot without some effort be broken up from 
 those clusters into which the due performance of their several 
 duties has a tendency to combine them. And the more 
 
THE CHURCH OP GOD. 177 
 
 Strictly they perform those duties, and the more signal their 
 success, the deeper also is the tinge of this mark. Should it, 
 therefore, be otherwise with the Christian, the exercise of 
 whose profession is not, like theirs, limited to certain places 
 and certain seasons ; who is not now in full occupation, and 
 then in utter leisure, but is ever engaged, and has before his 
 eyes for his reward, not the honours or wealth of this fleeting 
 world, but the bliss of the world everlasting] Shall not his 
 mouth speak from the fulness of his heart 1 And if the sol- 
 dier's heart be in the camp, the merchant's in his freighted 
 vessels, so that the language of the one would sound absurd 
 from the mouth of the other ; shall there be no such distinc- 
 tion between the man of this world, and the man of the next I 
 Their heart cannot have the same object, and can therefore 
 the language of the one proceed from the mouth of the other, 
 without an immediate and glaring contradiction to his profess- 
 ion? Shall a clean vessel pour forth what is unclean? 
 Shall a heart overflowing with love, joy, and thankfulness, 
 for the mercies of God shown in our redemption, — shall a mind 
 exalted in the Spirit, far beyond the pitch to which the na- 
 tural man could attain, supported daily by the daily soaring 
 contemplation of the unravelled mysteries of God, — shall 
 these send forth no language of their own, shall they speak 
 but as worldlings speak? It cannot be. "The heavens de- 
 clare the glory of God, and the firmament telleth his handi- 
 work ;" and shall the great work of God's hands, a living spi- 
 rit, twice-created, regenerated man, shall not his voice be heard 
 among them ? Shall not the glory of God be manifested from 
 him, the chief of God's works, and cast in his own image ? 
 This is the Christian's profession : thus he must be a shining 
 light amid darkness, telling from his firmament by an inex- 
 tinguishable brightness of character, and by duly regulated 
 motions of conduct, the glory, and the power, and the domin- 
 ion, and the majesty of the almighty author of his salvation. 
 
 It is true that in no case should we think too highly of 
 ourselves. But in the case of our station and corresponding 
 profession as Christians, we can never think highly enough ; 
 and our constant endeavour must be to proceed from a higher 
 to a higher pitch, so that the note and song of our profession 
 may, like the trumpet of God, wax louder and louder. Look 
 at the proud ones of this world, at them who do indeed think 
 of themselves more highly than they ought. What a con- 
 stant, jealous vigilance is there to maintain their dignity; 
 q2 
 
17S THE PROFESSION OF A MEMBER OF 
 
 what a cautious ming-ling with the general world ; what a 
 barrier do they try to throw around their communications, in 
 order to keep off all intrusion of vulgar taint. Shall not then 
 the Christian, whose honour is real and not conventional ; in- 
 ward and essential, not outward and accidental ; derived from 
 a heavenly incorruptible fountain, not from an earthly and 
 corruptible ; from eternity, not from yesterday ; immortal, 
 and not perishing ; — shall not he guard this with equal vigi- 
 lance and scrupulosity, and keep it pure and unspotted from 
 the world ] Still more, if earthly rank, which lives on the 
 breath of the world, and which is averse but to its conven- 
 tional and not real impurities, can draw a line of separation, 
 shall not the follower of the Cross of Christ, which is at 
 enmity with the world, and loathes all its impurities, shall he 
 not trace around him a clear decided mark of distinction T 
 
 Having thus viewed the nature of our profession, in refer- 
 ence to our daily practice, let us proceed to apply the argu- 
 ment of the apostle in the passage from whence the text has 
 been taken. 
 
 The persons to whom he writes were suffering under severe 
 persecution, under the most trying of all, namely, that which 
 comes from their own countrymen, and the professors of the 
 religion which they had abandoned ; and so trying had it al- 
 ready been, that several apostacies seem to have taken place, 
 and more to be about taking place. He shows them, there- 
 fore, the ground on which, in this case, they should stand, 
 and hold fast their profession. It is the ground of Jesus 
 Christ having suffered before them, and, after his sufferings, 
 ascended into rest and glory. And that not only thus had 
 they an example in their Master, and a pledge of a similar 
 reward to similar sufferings, but moreover that he is sitting 
 now at the throne of God as High Priest, in intercession for 
 us, in which we can securely repose all confidence, inasmuch 
 as we know, from his sufferings here, that he can sympathize 
 with us. The apostle has here only applied a particular ex- 
 ample to meet a particular occasion. But his argument is 
 applicable to every circumstance of life ; for there is not one 
 in which the firmness of grasp with which we hold fast our 
 profession, is not more or less put to the proof. Now since 
 life is made up of joy and sorrow, the latter of which has 
 been met by the apostle, let us, with an argument from the 
 same source, meet the former. We have, indeed, only to re- 
 verse the order of the argument, and as he argued from 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 179 
 
 Christ's affliction to his joy, so must we from his joy to his af- 
 fliction. When, through the abundant mercy of God, our 
 hearts are overflowing with joy, amid the bounties of this life, 
 shall we go no further ; shall we stay at the limits of the 
 body, and not proceed in spirit, and as w^e gladly refer our 
 afflictions to his, so also our joys'? Shall we not soar on the 
 wings of this, at best, imperfect joy, to that glorious presence 
 where it reigns in its fulness, and join the heavenly choir in 
 the song of triumph to the Redeemer; and then, seeing 
 through what afflictions his joy was perfected, prepare our 
 hearts to meet such interruption, so that when it shall come, 
 we may trample it under foot as conquerors, — having learned 
 to fix our looks, steadfast and unaverted, on the everlasting joys 
 of heaven, — having, through a right use of our allotted season 
 of joy, attained the inseparable fellowship of that joy, which 
 no man can take away from us, from which none of the wea- 
 pons of this world, be they famine, persecution, or the sword, 
 shall ever have power to divide us ] Thus, through all the 
 changes of this mortal life, we shall hold fast our profession, 
 shall stand rooted in the faith of Christ Jesus, who suffered, 
 and now reigneth in glory. 
 
 The apostle's expression, " /e^ m5 hold fast our profession ;" 
 and a little above, " let us labour to enter into that rest," — 
 implies that this firmness of hold on our profession, has a con- 
 tinual resistance opposed to it. Hence it will be different at 
 different times in the same man, growing as he does from 
 strength to strength ; and it will be different in different per- 
 sons, according to the progress they have made in that faith 
 which overcometh the world. The whole body of Christians, 
 therefore, will present a motley appearance, and may, from the 
 unbeliever, — to whose eye the weak, as most numerous, and 
 more in contact with himself, will be much more obvious than 
 the strong, — draw forth the charge of hypocrisy or super- 
 stition. But to the mind of the lowly and charitable Chris- 
 tian, a very different result will arise, and a lesson will be 
 taught him full of warning and instruction. In the Church of 
 God there must be a series of believers of different attain- 
 ments, stretching from him who has but»a moment ago quit- 
 ted the gross elements of the world, to him who has far 
 advanced into the regions of the spirit, — from the newly born 
 infant, to the full grown man. There will, however, be a 
 «lear mark of distinction between the lowest of these beings 
 and the world. They will all have this common character, 
 
180 THE PROFESSION OF A MEMBER OF 
 
 namely, that they are striving to attain that; however weak 
 their liesh may be, yet their spirit is willing. All are en- 
 gaged in a race : some, therefore, are foremost, some hind- 
 most ; but these last are very distinct from the mere lookers 
 on, which are the sons of this world. And the most back- 
 ward Christian will be distinguished above the mere man of 
 morals, inasmuch as the latter will be stationary, while the 
 former is pressing on. The latter may, indeed, at a given 
 moment, be standing nearer the goal of moral perfection, 
 while the former may be at some distance ; but then the one 
 never leaves his place, the other is continually advancing, 
 and in due time passes beyond. Even at his farthest distance 
 from the goal, he will show that he is a racer, and not a spec- 
 tator, by the proofs which he gives of his will to proceed ; 
 which are, his readiness to acknowledge and repair his of- 
 fences, his self-rebuke for his failings, his lowliness to ask 
 his neighbour's forgiveness, and charity to impart his own ; 
 and a careful record kept in his memory of the places in which 
 he has hitherto stumbled, with a resolution to avoid the like 
 mishap again. Spirit-stirring, indeed, is such a view of the 
 companions of his profession, to the Christian. He will in 
 charity place every neighbour more forward than he really is 
 in the race ; in humility he will place himself more back- 
 ward, and setting himself down, in his own opinion, among 
 the last, will the most earnestly pursue his resolution to be 
 among the first. 
 
 We may consider the resistance opposed by the world to 
 our profession, and our gradual triumph over it, in another 
 light. We are thus engaged in a spiritual fight with it, and 
 must have many wounds before we be conquerors. W^ere it 
 not so, the enemy would yield at the first blow ; ever as we 
 advanced, all would flee in rout and dismay, all the strong- 
 holds of sin would surrender at the very first summons 
 which we blew with the trump of the Gospel. Our course 
 upon earth would be a glorious uninterrupted triumph, and 
 the gates of heaven would unfold, and receive us unwounded, 
 unfatigued. But be who he will, the Christian has to fight 
 an obstinate, a continual fight ; and like those kings, who, 
 fighting for earthly kingdoms, have, by severe defeats, well 
 nigh lost their own, and won, at last, after a long series of 
 doubtful success ; so, also, fares this spiritual king, — so 
 fights he for a heavenly kingdom, nor can he cry out victory, 
 but with his dying breath. Then, indeed, and not till then, 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 181 
 
 he may, in a sense as opposite as his thoughts are to those of 
 the apostate king, exclaim, " Thou hast conquered, O Gali- 
 lean !" And thanks be to him who giveth us the victory, 
 even Jesus Christ our Saviour. 
 
 Though the water of baptism hath left no outward mark 
 upon us, to put us in continual remembrance of our profess- 
 ion, yet several of its accompaniments remain, and should 
 produce this effect upon us. Our very name is one of them, 
 and as that of Eve, which she received after the promise of 
 the seed ; of Abraham, after the promise of the Christ ; of 
 Paul, after his conversion to Christ ; forcibly reminded them 
 of their change of circumstances ; so should ours carry us 
 back to the moment, when, being admitted into covenant with 
 Christ, our condition was changed, and there was created for 
 us a new earth, and a new heaven : behold ! all things were 
 new. But still more should the titles, of which we thence- 
 forward became possessors, declare unto us in most awful 
 terms our profession. " Christian," should proclaim to us 
 that we are followers of Christ, and have placed our will 
 under obedience to his will. " Children of God," should 
 suggest that we were once mere non-enties, but have been 
 born into a world of real spiritual existence, and must be 
 daily growing towards the mature and perfect man. " In- 
 heritor of the kingdom of heaven," should continually preach 
 unto us the high prize for which we are contending ; assure 
 the certainty of our reward, if we continue faithful to the end. 
 " Saints in light," should remind us of the holiness of the 
 profession to which we have been called, of the gift of the 
 sanctifying graces of the Holy Spirit; of the light of the 
 Gospel into which we have been brought, from the darkness 
 of the ignorance of the natural man. If the titles indicative 
 of rank, merit, or wealth, accorded by the society of the 
 world, perpetually stimulate their possessors to maintain the 
 substance which they represent, — without which they are a 
 shadow, or even convey a reproach upon their bearer, how 
 much more shall the sound of his titles operate upon the 
 member of the fellowship of the saints, of the society of the 
 Church of God. 
 
 Great, indeed, is our happiness, glorious our condition. We 
 have not received the seal of circumcision, to assure us of a Re- 
 deemer to come in the latter days, — we have not received the 
 giftless baptism of John, to prepare us for Christ on the point of 
 coming; but we have received the baptism in Jesus Christ our 
 
182 THE PROFESSION OF A MEMBER OF, &C. 
 
 Redeemer, who has come, and has shed upon us an abundance of 
 spiritual gifts. All which God gave to mankind separately and 
 at long intervals from the beginning of the world, hath been 
 poured in one concentrated shower upon us ; yea, and not 
 only that, but what they of old received were not only but a 
 part of what we have, but the rude and beggarly elements of 
 the corresponding part which has come to us. Yea, and not 
 only that, but all which they received, even in the perfect 
 and ripe state in which they have been bestowed upon us, 
 form but a part of our bounteous whole. Sacrifice, in all its 
 relations and bearings, has been perfected; all its mystic 
 meanings laid open ; prophecy has been accomplished, and 
 our food is certainty instead of hope. The Holy Spirit hath 
 poured forth in profusion all his gifts. Not a doubt remains 
 to perplex us, not a desire is left to be fulfilled. The groans 
 of the creature have ceased. The very terms of our baptism, 
 which was in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of 
 the Holy Ghost, declare the entire plenitude of the heavenly 
 possessions which have been committed to us, and the efful- 
 gence and completeness of the revelation which we are enjoy- 
 ing. Bearing these things in mind, let us engage with all 
 fortitude in this warfare below, and manfully fighting under 
 Christ's banner, against the world, the flesh, and the devil, 
 continue his faithful soldiers and servants to our life's end ; 
 so that having realized our baptism into the death of Christ, 
 we may become joyful partakers of the bliss of his resurrec- 
 tion. 
 
183 
 
 DISSERTATION XIV. 
 
 ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY IN THE CHURCH OF GOD. 
 
 For I desired to know nothing among you^ save Jesus Christ, 
 and him crucified. — 1 Cor. ii. 2. 
 
 These forcible expressions are supposed to have been directed 
 by St. Paul against the teachers of two systems, — most fruit- 
 ful sources each of early heresy, — the questions of Greek 
 philosophy, and of Jewish tradition ; which were then vex- 
 ing a church, conspicuous among the primitive seats of the 
 Gospel for its lamentable divisions. Not unacquainted with 
 either system, as we know St. Paul to have been, yet he de- 
 precates most earnestly their being brought to bear in any 
 degree upon the Gospel, to mix their turbid streams in the 
 smallest portion with its purity; and reminds the Corinthians 
 how he himself had preached it among them, with all sim- 
 plicity and strict adherence with its principles, to an utter 
 abandonment of all foreign knowledge, as if the existence of 
 those systems had been wholly unknown to him. 
 
 It had been well if this wholesome example had been more 
 generally followed. But down even to our own day, man 
 has been ever thinking that he can mend God's work, inter- 
 polating his own conceits among the fundamental principles 
 of the Gospel ; and reason, deeming its province intruded 
 upon by revelation, has been struggling to remove the boun- 
 daries which have been set to her previously too loosely de- 
 fined dominion. This has been peculiarly the case in those 
 questions which concern the duties of life. It was indeed to 
 be expected. Their throng, their hourly occurrence, their 
 ingrossing interest, their worldly complexion, — are all calcu- 
 lated to induce men to refer them to principles much more 
 accommodated to their own carnal notions, to sources much 
 
184 ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY IN 
 
 nearer at hand than the spirituality of the Gospel will allow. 
 And thus not only in practice, but in theory too, a mixture 
 has been made of the light of nature and of the illumination of 
 the Gospel, which, while it obscures both, is more particu- 
 larly injurious to the latter, in proportion to its superior 
 strength and brightness. 
 
 It readily follows, from what has been stated in the review 
 of the fundamental articles of the church of God, that the 
 moral conduct of a true member of this church, could never at 
 any period be guided by principles which drew so much from 
 the light of nature, as the reasoners above alluded to are ready 
 to suppose. But as the Christian dispensation is that which 
 they have in view in all their references to religious motives, we 
 will confine the question to this point, and consider the rule 
 of life laid down to the member of the church of Christ. In 
 other words, we will proceed to ascertain how the doctrine 
 of Christ crucified, bears upon those duties which moral phi- 
 losophers would fain have us derive from principles which 
 themselves have laid down. 
 
 It will be necessary to devote a few previous observations 
 upon their different systems, so general, however, that they 
 will be considered as forming only two classes ; in one of 
 which the light of nature alone is consulted, in the other 
 the aid of that of revelation is called in. 
 
 The first contains the several systems of ancient philoso- 
 phy. Their deficiency in not supplying a motive of obliga- 
 tion sufficiently obvious, strong and permanent, has been the 
 subject of frequent remark. Nevertheless, they are of inesti- 
 mable value to the Christian scholar, not only from disclosing 
 to him the peculiar points upon which a revelation was re- 
 quired to bear, — not only from the interest which they excite 
 by the heart-moving comparison of their original light of na- 
 ture with our acquired illumination from the Gospel ; but 
 principally because they have almost exhausted the store- 
 house of human thought upon their subjects. Hither, there- 
 fore, the infidel will appeal, and here the Christian must be 
 prepared to meet him, and make him feel the untenableness 
 of his ground. 
 
 The second class is obviously destitute of all these advan- 
 tages. It remains to see whether their loss has been coun- 
 terbalanced by the acquisition of any others. 
 
 Perceiving the defect above mentioned, of the ancient sys- 
 tems, the authors of these have thought to supply it by calling 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 185 
 
 in from revelation the doctrine of a state of future retribution. 
 To this plan, however, there are insurmountable objections, 
 not only from reason, but also from the revelation itself, 
 whence they have borrowed. 
 
 There is an objection in reason, first, because in a system 
 of philosophy all ought to be traceable to one source; and 
 this character forms the great beauty of all the ancient sys- 
 tems. On such a principle, therefore, a future state to which 
 the system attaches the final motive of obligation, ought to 
 be demonstrable, equally with the rule of life, from the light 
 of nature ; but every one knows that it is not. Thus the 
 system is deranged, and its logical unity dissolved by the in- 
 troduction of an entirely foreign and independent principle. 
 
 A second objection on the ground of reason is, that our 
 assent to the doctrine of a future retribution implies an ade- 
 quate notion of the divine justice. But this (as in the case 
 of other of God's attributes) must be detived from our notions 
 of human justice. Thus we are conducted by such a system 
 in a vicious circle. We must have formed an adequate no- 
 tion of human justice, before we can assent to the position of 
 a future retribution ; and we must assent to the position of a 
 future retribution, before we can possess ourselves with an 
 adequate notion of human justice. But the objections from 
 the very revelation itself, to which they profess themselves 
 indebted, are of a still more serious cast. 
 
 In borrowing this doctrine from revelation, they have 
 entirely neglected to take with them the foundation upon 
 which it rests, — the Cross of Christ. It has accordingly 
 shared the fate of all facts which are introduced, detached 
 from the natural relation of surrounding circumstances. It 
 droops and dies, as a tree which has been transplanted with- 
 out its roots ; and as far as the planters are concerned, the 
 roots have been left to perish too : for what is now their 
 position as they lay down their transplanted doctrine of a 
 state of future happiness 1 — however stated, it amounts to 
 this, — that a man may be saved by the law which they 
 have there established. It is difficult to see how this ma- 
 terially differs from an opinion so severely reprobated by our 
 church, (and in that reprobation every Christian church and 
 person will join,) namely, that " every man shall be saved 
 by the law or sect which he professeth, so that he be diligent 
 to frame his life according to that law, and the light of na- 
 ture." This is indeed removing the offence of the Cross, by 
 removing the Cross itself; for (as our article proceeds to 
 R 
 
186 ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY IN 
 
 say. Art. 18,) Holy Scripture doth set unto us only the name 
 of Jesus Christ, whereby man must be saved. 
 
 Let it, however, be allowed (for argument's sake) that 
 this consequence from their system has been too closely 
 pressed. Let it even be granted that advantage has been 
 taken of unintentional ornission, of neglect of fortifying 
 points, of latitude of language. Still the effect cannot be 
 disputed, which is to instil into minds not culpably unwary, 
 the above pernicious opinion, and to lead them to think the 
 grand and essential facts of Christianity, — our Lord's incar- 
 nation, death, and burial, — an useless show, a cumbrous 
 machinery, the employment of which seems derogatory to 
 the wisdom of Almighty God. Is it considerate, is it chari- 
 table, is it dutiful to our crucified Master, to employ, or allow 
 to be employed, a carelessness of expression pregnant with 
 such dreadful consequences 1 
 
 Putting, however, the best colour upon all this, still we 
 find another objection behind, which cannot be set aside by 
 any plea of mere looseness of language. 
 
 For let us supply what they may assert to be an uninten- 
 tional omission; then, since of course a system of morality is 
 applicable to all mankind, their position stands thus : that all 
 men, by observing the duties which the system has laid down, 
 will enjoy the future happiness which has been procured by 
 the Cross of Christ. But where is such a position to be found 
 in Scripture 1 Where has it promised a state of happiness to 
 all mankind, upon living up to their duties 1 Its promises 
 are confined exclusively within the pale of the Christian 
 covenant, and the salvability of any without can be but the 
 suggestion of a charitable hope ; or (granting the very utmost) 
 a fit subject of argument for such as are prepared to engage in 
 an interminable controversy. 
 
 Thus, even upon putting the most favourable construction 
 upon the systems of this class, we are obliged to conclude 
 that their foundation rests upon a position, of which they 
 affirm the certainty from revelation, but which in fact is not 
 to be found in any part of its records. 
 
 It may, however, still be asserted that such systems, though 
 not applicable to all mankind, may serve to point out a rule 
 of moral conduct to the Christian, supplying directions 
 where the Scriptures are not practically explicit, presuppose 
 natural principles, or perhaps are silent altogether. The 
 state of the question, thus narrowed, brings us back to the 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 187 
 
 point which was proposed to be examined, and will render 
 much assistance to the course of argmnent, by setting off in 
 more prominent relief the peculiarities with which the doctrine 
 of Christ crucified invests all those duties which are the 
 subjects of moral philosophy. 
 
 Let it be borne in mind, that, according to the latter systems 
 just discussed, the motive which obliges the Christian, is the 
 simple one of a certain expectation of future reward or pun- 
 ishment. According to the Gospel, it will appear to be one 
 much more complex, or at least (even granting this to be the 
 final), that it can never be acted upon by him except in asso- 
 ciation with a number of others of a certain class. Their 
 rule of life also is sought among the principles of nature. In 
 the Gospel it presupposes these, but is not confined to them ; 
 so that the Christian, calculating from those principles only, 
 would as certainly fall into error, as he who omits important 
 elements in any deduction of science. They suppose only 
 two persons — man and God. The Gospel interposes a third, 
 the Son of God ; and this of course immediately gives a new 
 complexion to the whole question. 
 
 God the Father has made the promise of everlasting hap- 
 piness to man, upon obedience to his will, operating through 
 faith in the merits of his only begotten Son, Jesus Christ; 
 who, by taking our nature upon liim, suffered death upon the 
 Cross, in order to procure for man that inestimable blessing. 
 But the Father, notwithstanding this reconciliation, has no 
 immediate communication with man : he will turn away his 
 ear from every note of praise or prayer, he will avert his face 
 from every posture of supplication, which is not addressed to 
 him through the mediation of the Son ; through him he bids 
 him look for every blessing now and to come, to this special 
 relation which he has established with mankind to confess 
 himself indebted for all : on this to hang all his hopes ; and 
 having his heart impressed with the Cross of Christ, his 
 thoughts fixed in earnest contemplation of what his Saviour 
 has said, done, and undergone, and thus imbued, as it were, 
 with the baptism of his precious blood, to proceed to action. 
 
 It is evident, therefore, that the will of God is not to be 
 sought by the Christian, merely among the natural relations 
 of man to man. Those relations indeed still subsist ; but 
 they are all drawn by Christ towards himself, and acted upon 
 by his influence. Besides their mutual motions, they have 
 also another and general course assigned them. If they fol- 
 
188 ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY IN 
 
 low not this course, they are not within the system of Chris- 
 tianity. Every act of the Christian must have some reference 
 to an act of Christ's, displayed by him in his sojourn upon 
 earth, and destined to exert its influence upon him, as mysti- 
 cally affecting his spiritual station, — as directly operating by 
 example, — as urgently prompting by command. Thus, is 
 God's will that we should be gratefully disposed, to be sought 
 in the mere shallow elements to which the moral philosopher 
 would direct us 1 Or shall we not rather carry into our 
 practice that deep and settled feeling to which human lan- 
 guage cannot give a name, that which we imbibe through 
 every pore of mind, from the contemplation of the character 
 and office of the Son of God. 
 
 It is evident, also, from the above considerations, that, as 
 to motive, the Christian cannot, dare not, look at everlasting 
 happiness, without combining in the same view the Cross of 
 Christ. As consistently may he expunge from his creed 
 every article intervening between God the Father Almighty, 
 and the life everlasting. No ! that life he looks forward to, 
 through a long and permanent chain of objects, every link of 
 which has been designed to move both his heart and under- 
 standing; through his holy incarnation through his holy 
 nativity and circumcision, through his baptism, fasting, and 
 temptation, through his agony and bloody sweat, through his 
 cross and passion, through his precious death and burial, 
 through his glorious resurrection and ascension, and through 
 the coming of the Holy Ghost. This is his perspective, 
 down this long alley of glorious and heart-stirring facts, he 
 contemplates the life to come; and through this only, as a 
 Christian that hopes for salvation, dares he look forward to 
 everlasting happiness. 
 
 On a basis so widely different from that proposed by the 
 moral philosopher, rest the duties of the Christian, even 
 where the former has borrowed the grand doctrine of eternal 
 life! 
 
 It may seem necessary to illustrate this bearing of the doc- 
 trine of Christ crucified, upon our practice, by a comparison 
 of passages from the philosopher and from Scripture, enforc- 
 ing the same precept. We are, however, enabled to enter 
 upon a parallel still more convincing and striking. 
 
 It is obvious that in the New Testament the rule of life, 
 although throughout essentially the same, yet must differ ex- 
 ceedingly in clearness of object, distinctness of motive, and 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 189 
 
 extont of application : so that it will contain two modes of 
 practice. One of these will be that which guided the true 
 Israelite, and therefore also our Lord's followers, before the 
 Gospel dispensation was completed by the descent of the 
 Holy Ghost, which put the crown to the Redeemer's glorious 
 work in behalf of man. Another will be that by which his 
 followers were influenced afterwards, as members of this new 
 covenant now perfected. Accordingly the former will be 
 found to prevail in the Gospels, the latter in the Epistles. 
 The former, of course (from the generality which its compa- 
 rative indistinctness induces), will be purely ethical ; while 
 the latter (from the individuality impressed by its clearness) 
 will appeal to feelings and to facts. This distinction, obvious 
 as it is, has not been sufficiently attended to, and its neglect 
 has led to much laxity of opinion. For many persons, and 
 more especially the moral philosophers, to whose views upon 
 their subject it was very suitable, have, naturally enough, 
 though very inconsiderately, fixed upon that great concen- 
 trated body of moral instruction, contained in our Lord's 
 sermon on the mount ; and conceiving that passage, as coming 
 from his own lips, to contain (if any can) the Christian doc- 
 trine, have been led to regard the Gospel too much in the 
 light of a system of ethics. So striking is the difference, 
 that some infidels (not caring to ascertain the real state of 
 the case) have not scrupled to assert that Christianity, as it 
 came from its Author's mouth, was a mere moral system, and 
 that this was corrupted immediately after his death by his 
 apostles, more particularly by St. Paul. The comparison of 
 a very few passages will be sufficient for our purpose. 
 
 In his sermon on the mount, our Saviour sa5'^s, "Forgive, 
 and ye shall be forgiven," (Luke vi. 37). Here is a moral 
 precept, appealing indeed to the revealed doctrine of God's 
 forgiveness, and deriving its obligation from the promise of 
 this, and from the authority of its deliverer, as being sent 
 from God. But let us seek for this same precept in the 
 Epistles. There St. Paul bids the Colossians to "put on 
 bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, 
 long-suffering ; forbearing one another, forgiving one another, 
 if any one have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave 
 you, so also do ye." (Coloss. iii. 13). Here all is grounded 
 upon Christ crucified. His cross is the rule, the motive, and 
 the obligation. Again, in the same sermon, our Lord thus 
 lays down the duty of charity : " Give to him that askcth of 
 r2 
 
190 ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY IN 
 
 thee, and from him that would borrow of thee, turn not thou 
 away." (Matt. v. 42). Here is a moral precept, enforced 
 as before. Let us also again turn to the Epistles. In urging 
 the Corinthians to contribute to the necessities of the saints, 
 St. Paul thus lays down the grounds of their duty: "for ye 
 know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was 
 rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his 
 poverty might be rich." (2 Cor. viii. 9). Again we are re- 
 ferred to Christ crucified. Let one more example suffice. 
 Our Lord, enforcing the duty of humility upon his disciples, 
 says, " Whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased, and he 
 that humbleth himself shall be exalted." (Luke xiv. 11). 
 But how does his apostle, he who gloried in nought save in 
 the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world was 
 crucified unto him, and he unto the world, — how does this 
 his faithful soldier and servant exhort to the same duty] 
 He thus charges the Philippians : " Let this mind be in you, 
 which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, 
 thouo-ht it not robbery to be equal with God ; but made him- 
 self of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a ser- 
 vant, and was made in the likeness of man. And being 
 found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became 
 obedient even unto death, even the death of the Cross. 
 Wherefore God hath also highly exalted him, and given him 
 a name which is above every name ; that at the name of Jesus 
 every knee should bow — of things in heaven, and things in 
 earth, and things under the earth, and that every tongue 
 should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God 
 the Father." (Philipp. ii. 7, &c.). Never before was such 
 an appeal made to the heart of man. It stirs it with the 
 thrilling strain of the trumpet. The humble man is raised 
 from the dust, and set amidst angels. To what beggarly 
 elements, to what wretched offscourings do we return, upon 
 resuming the principles of the moralists. We seem hurled 
 down from heaven to earth. 
 
 Thus we find in Scripture a moral system, based upon rev- 
 elation, and not concocted by human reason; confirmed by 
 our Lord himself, addressed to believers in repentance, in a 
 redemption, in a life to come, — we find this in the very same 
 volume (owing to the peculiarity of the circumstances), 
 practically superseded by one, which rests upon the fact and 
 doctrine of Christ crucified. What then shall we think, not 
 only of the pretension, not only of the inutility, but of the 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 191 
 
 mischievous and anti-christian tendency of those systems 
 which we have been discussing 1 To the logician they are 
 contemptible: to the Christian they are abominable.* 
 
 We have now traced the peculiar bearing of this grand fun- 
 damental doctrine upon our moral duties, both as presenting 
 a rule of life, and as supplying a motive of obligation. In 
 effecting these objects, however, it accomplishes a third, in 
 which it is quite singular. It at the same time furnishes an 
 example, — an example, too, of a most peculiar influence. In 
 the case of every thing which admits of degrees, our imagina- 
 tion can always go on to portray something of higher excel- 
 lence still, until at length we obtain and fix in the mind's 
 eye, an ideal model of perfection. It is the constant contem- 
 plation of this model which leads us from one stage of 
 improvement to another, and ever with our advance advances 
 also ; always at our head, beyond our grasp, and unattainable. 
 In this lies the source of all excellence : the poet and the 
 painter, for instance, work after a model thus conceived in 
 their own bosoms, but never to be realized by their lips or 
 their hand ; and therefore often regard their own production 
 with a sigh, while it excites the admiration of surrounding 
 crowds. In the same way we can form in our minds a model 
 of moral excellence, unattainable by imperfect human nature ; 
 and some writers have drawn fictitious characters to embody 
 their notions, and supply to coarser and less tutored minds, 
 that spur to virtuous emulation, which they themselves find 
 within their own bosoms. But, after all, the real effect pro- 
 duced is slight. Men turn away from the impalpable, un- 
 practical model, listless, wearied, and incredulous. Now the 
 system which rests upon Christ crucified, is not only a sys- 
 tem of precept and doctrine, but also an aggregate of facts ; 
 and we are presented in our Lord, as man, with a real sub- 
 stantial being, the model of all excellence ; one which sur- 
 passes every thing which our bosoms could have framed in 
 their highest aspirations. Great indeed is the advantage of 
 an example. We are in morals, after all, but little children : 
 we are too careless to enter into long detail, — too ignorant to 
 sum it up, and gather all its bearings. We require, there- 
 
 * I heartily wish that oxu' University, which, according to her 
 solemn prayer, sets so much value on sound learning and religious 
 education, would consider how much she promotes either one or the 
 other, by employing Paley's Moral Philosophy as a book of education. 
 
192 ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY IN 
 
 fore, a sensible picture, which shall present at one glance 
 what must otherwise be conveyed in long- and minute de- 
 scription. Thus we can inform ourselves at once upon the 
 very brink of action into which we are so continually hurried, 
 with but a few moments to spend upon preparatory reflection. 
 Still even this is but a limited and most inadequate view of 
 the benefits of Christ's example; — it were thus like the 
 glorious firmament on high, to which, however we may gaze 
 upon it, we can never make any sensible approach. But the 
 facts which gave us this example, gave us also our redemp- 
 tion ; they procured for us grace to do, as well as showed 
 what we ought to do ; they advanced us to a point whither 
 of ourselves we could never have arrived, and which beino- 
 unattained, the excellence of that example cannot be under- 
 stood : vain had been the example of his patience, gentleness, 
 meekness, charity, if the sufferings w^hich called it forth had 
 but operated thus passively, and not actively by God's will 
 affected our souls. Taken in this twofold view^, how inesti- 
 mably precious is his example ; how does it try and search 
 our hearts ; how does it stir our affections, while at the same 
 time it enlightens our understanding, and chastens and exalts 
 our imagination. But see still farther the wonderful goodness 
 of God. He has not left us to the promise of grace to enable 
 us to follow up this example, but hath poured it out so as to 
 exemplify in men like ourselves its efhcacy : besides the great 
 example of our Lord moving like a sun through the region of 
 Scripture, we are presented in the train of his followers with 
 innumerable lesser lights, borrowing from him, and reflecting 
 to us. All these are attainable, and they are manifest proofs 
 to us of the fulfilment of God's gracious promises in the res- 
 toration of our fallen nature : there we see the weakness of 
 the flesh converted into the strength of the Spirit; there we 
 see exemplified the conquering might of Christ crucified ; 
 thence we can joyfully gather how the perfect new man may 
 hereafter grow out of our sinful nature ; these are our ances- 
 tors in the church of Christ : to their pictures we may look 
 up ; with the memory of their deeds nourish our courage ; 
 and, by imitating them, prove ourselves worthy descendants 
 of the spiritual conquerors of the world. One point remains 
 upon which it is necessary to bestow a brief notice, inasmuch 
 as it supplies the ground upon which the authors of the 
 modern moral philosophy have advanced the utility of their 
 systems, and contended that Scripture does not dispense with 
 them. 
 
THE CHURCH OP GOD. 193 
 
 It has often been remarked, and by some objected, that 
 Scripture, considered as a rule of life, omits some important 
 duties, — as, for example, friendship and love of country. 
 The objection is much more apparent than real, and goes, in 
 effect, no farther than to say, that these abstract terms do not 
 occur there. We may, with nearly as good reason, blame the 
 highly national Greek, or the staunch Roman, because they 
 have no single abstract term perfectly expressing our word 
 patriotism. Scripture, as teaching, not on professed system, 
 but indirectly, by means of facts, and expressions called forth 
 by facts, is, on that account, no great dealer in abstract terms. 
 But let the above terms be resolved into their elements, (and 
 our practice must always so resolve them,) and every part is 
 immediately met by Scripture. Thus, with regard to what 
 is implied in the duty of friendship, is there no command to 
 be kindly affectionate to one another, in honour preferring one 
 another ; none to bear with one another ; none to rejoice with 
 them that do rejoice, and to weep with them that do weepT 
 has our Saviour left no such act on record, among those which 
 marked his earthly sojourn ; does his intercourse with Laza- 
 rus supply no example ; and are there few elements of this 
 duty to be derived by him who is engaged in the daily con- 
 templation of the Son of God, offeringhimself upon the Cross 
 for his redemption 1 The fact is, that Scripture inculcates a 
 far deeper, a much more holy and permanent feeling than such 
 as is implied in friendship, which is included as the less in 
 the greater, and it sums all up in a single term, unknown (in 
 this sense) in moral systems, brotherly-love (Philadelphia.) 
 It has been said also, and truly said, that Scripture sometimes 
 attaches blessings or curses to duties or offences w^hich it has 
 never defined : that covenant-breakers, for instance, are de- 
 nounced, but the nature of a covenant not explained. This 
 is the very strongest example that could have been chosen ; 
 a word of more awful import does not occur in Scripture ; it 
 states the most affecting relation in which man stands to God ; 
 it raises up immediately before his mind a series of the grand- 
 est and most moving events which have occurred upon earth. 
 Scripture, in fact, presupposes a state of society in which 
 such duties are necessary, and such terms current. But since 
 their common acceptation in society may seem too undefined 
 for all cases of application, to what source shall we refer for 
 their strict definition. We must evidently have recourse to 
 the light of nature, which Scripture presupposes ; and not. 
 
194 ON THE PRINCIPLES OP MORALITY IN 
 
 by betaking ourselves to a mixture of the light of nature with 
 that of the Gospel, commit Scripture in the absurdity of pre- 
 supposing its own revelation. 
 
 Practically speaking, there will be little necessity even for 
 this. In practice, men are seldom curious to investigate the 
 bounds of duty except with a lurking notion of transgressing 
 them : when they anxiously discuss the limits of obedience, 
 they are on the borders of rebellion ; when of patriotism, on 
 the brink of treason; when of friendship, on the verge of 
 treachery. 
 
 Thus it has been endeavoured to show the nature of the 
 doctrine of Christ crucified, as bearing upon those duties, 
 which the moralists assume as their province. In the course 
 of this investigation, there has surely appeared no inclination 
 to undervalue and decry the usefulness of moral philosophy : 
 so far from it, that an acquaintance with the study, as based 
 upon the mere light of nature, has been expressly stated at 
 the outset to be essential to the character of the Christian 
 scholar, — of the well-appointed defender of his faith. But to 
 those systems, which, by borrowing a truth, and not the 
 whole truth, from revelation, obscure the light of nature, at 
 the same time that they stain the purity of the Gospel, to 
 them it is freely confessed that an equal deference has not 
 been paid. Nor can he who addresses you sufficiently ex- 
 press, even in the most earnest terms of deprecation, his full 
 sense and dread of their baneful effects. Alas ! what they 
 are too well calculated to produce, requires no additional en- 
 couragement. By the corrupt infirmities of our nature, we 
 are already but too well disposed to dwell slightly upon the 
 great doctrine of Christ crucified, to have recourse to any 
 other base than this for a rule of life, and, like the wilful le- 
 per, to prefer Abanah and Pharphar to all the waters of 
 Israel. From long habit, also, and careless enjoyment, we 
 are disposed to mistake an indulgence for a right, and thus 
 to deem of revealed doctrines, — such as the life everlasting, — 
 as primary inherent principles in our nature. Add to this 
 general tendency, vices, which impel many men on such a 
 forgetfulness of our Saviour's Cross, weaknesses which in- 
 cline almost all. Our indolence is gratified by thinking to 
 rest upon this one single fact of a future state, without being 
 compelled to go through the long and awakening detail by 
 which Scripture conducts us : our vanity looks complacently 
 at the dignity of future glory, but turns away from the hu- 
 
THE CHURCH OF GOD. 195 
 
 miliatinor rebuke of the atonement : our love of enjoyment 
 gazes with delight on the prospect of the happiness to come, 
 but shrinks from the energy, the self-denial and mortification, 
 held forth from the Cross of Christ. Thus all our corrupt 
 nature tends with the whole of its bias this way ; and shall 
 education be called in to confirm it 1 
 
 O let us not err ourselves, nor lead others into error : to 
 the Christian the life to come is no abstract idea, which can 
 be bandied about in heartless selfish calculation ; it is a crowd 
 of ideas, awful and vast, bidding defiance to the management 
 of the puny mind of man. It is no single, detached fact, 
 which will happen, against which w^e are to provide : it is 
 one of a series, the far greater part of which has happened, 
 and is affecting us at this moment. It is no simple element 
 which may amuse the head : it combines a throng of emo- 
 tions to stir the heart. Its contemplation cannot be taken up 
 by any one at his pleasure ; habitual earnestness alone has 
 this privilege : and when taken up it requires effort to main- 
 tain as we should. For it requires to be maintained by stu- 
 dious reading of God's word ; by frequent meditation on the 
 intervention between God and man there detailed ; and by 
 continual prayer, — that searcher of the spirit, and opener of 
 the heart. 
 
 Nothing is so dangerous as to render this doctrine familiar 
 to the mind, divested of its Gospel accompaniments ; and the 
 Christian who has once brought himself to hold it steadily in 
 view without including Christ crucified, has in that moment 
 virtually denied the Lord who bought him, reckoned his blood 
 common blood, crucified Christ afresh. Let the cold cal- 
 culator be told that it is Christ crucified which alone enables 
 him or gives him any right to look onward to the reward of 
 another life : it is this alone (and not human precept) which 
 can sustain his feet in this world, amid the shock of daily 
 conflict ; and to this alone (and to no help of human reason) 
 when wounded by the great adversary, can he look up, as to 
 its brazen type of old, and be healed. Here alone lie all his 
 means of grace ; here alone are seated all his hopes of glory. 
 A celebrated father* of the church, in remarking on the ac- 
 complishment of these words of the prophet, " and his rest 
 shall be glorious," says, in his fanciful manner, " the very 
 form of his death is more glorious than a diadem. Therefore 
 
 * Chrysostom, Vol. I. p. 569. Ed. Benedict. 
 
1 96 ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALITY, &C. 
 
 kings, putting off the diadem, take up the Cross, the symbol 
 of his death : on the purple the Cross, on diadems the Cross, 
 in prayers the Cross, on arms the Cross, on the holy table 
 the Cross, and in every quarter of the world the Cross shines 
 more glorious than the sun." What in his days was fast 
 quitting the heart, and taking its place among the baubles of 
 outside show, degenerating into the sign of a wretched su- 
 perstition, let us, in accordance with purer times, resume 
 spiritually in our bosoms. When we rise, the Cross : when 
 we lie down, the Cross : in our thoughts, the Cross : in our 
 studies, the Cross: in our conversation, the Cross: every- 
 where, and at every time, the Cross, shining more glorious 
 than the sun. Yea ! Let this, in our warfare below, be- 
 come our sign, and in this we shall conquer. 
 
197 
 
 DISSERTATION XV. 
 
 ON THE COMPARATIVE OPPORTUNITIES OF THE EARLIER AND 
 LATER CHURCH. 
 
 See then that yc walk circumspectly^ not as fools^ but as tvise, re- 
 deeming the time, because the days are evil. — Ephes. v. 15, 16. 
 
 The literal sense of the phrase " redeeming the time," in 
 this passage, and in one parallel in the parallel Epistle to 
 the Colossians, has been variously interpreted. It is quite 
 sufficient for the present purpose to gather the general import 
 of the text, which appears to be, that the Ephesians should 
 direct their course of life with all wisdom and discernment, 
 full of the knowledge of the will of God, so as to be enabled 
 to distinguish the opportunities which he presents, and to 
 turn them to proper account, accompanied and confused as 
 they are with the numerous impediments to godliness, created 
 by evil times. 
 
 That the days are evil, has been the warning cry of every 
 period of the church until now, no less under Christian than 
 under Heathen governments : for to every period has been 
 assigned some peculiar trial of the godliness of its members. 
 It has sometimes been sounded forth in notes of encourage- 
 ment to resist ; sometimes in the voice of most earnest depre- 
 cation to forbear ; according as it has at one time appeared in 
 the shape of violent persecution, as it did to the Ephesians, 
 and the rest of the primitive church, or, at another, assumed 
 the less repulsive but not less dangerous form of imposing 
 prosperity. This cry may be louder at different times; but 
 yet, as Christ has promised to his church to be with it to the 
 end of the world, as he has promised to every two or three 
 met together to be in the midst of them, as he has promised 
 to each individual a suffi,ciency of grace, and that he shall not 
 S 
 
198 COMPARATIVE OPPORTUNITIES OF THE 
 
 be tempted beyond what he can bear, but that a way to es- 
 cape shall be made for him ; it must be concluded, that any pe- 
 culiar disadvantage under which this or that period may seem 
 to labour, is balanced also by some peculiar advantage, and 
 that none has occasion for superior boast or complaint. How- 
 ever unequal the ways of man, the ways of God are equal. 
 
 It is now proposed to examine this point by taking two ex- 
 treme periods, the earlier and later times of the Christian 
 church. Such a comparison must, if any thing can, be decisive 
 of the question, since two periods could not be selected, more 
 contrasted. They are as opposite as nearness and distance, — 
 as danger and security, — as wonders and commonplace. 
 
 The first thing which strikes the inquirer on approaching 
 this investigation, is the apparently unqualified superiority of 
 the earlier period, shown in its possession of miraculous pow- 
 ers ; and at these a wistful eye is often cast by persons who, 
 not having taken due pains to lay a sure ground of faith, are 
 troubled with difficulties and fits of scepticism, and cry out 
 for signs and wonders, that they might believe : and again, 
 by those also who, disheartened at their own want of energy, 
 finding it so far below the point to which they are conscious 
 it should attain, wish for the supernatural spur which operated 
 upon the minds of the early Christians. 
 
 A nearer inspection will reduce this superiority to the level 
 of our own times. For with regard to the exhibition of mira- 
 cles, so much coveted, it ought to be borne in mind that they 
 acted no farther, in the first instance, than as challenges of the 
 attention of the witness to the doctrine promulgated by the 
 worker. That doctrine was still to be investigated, for the 
 miracle may proceed from a good or evil source (Matt. xii. 
 24), and therefore it was that the Beraeans, in the most 
 fruitful period of these extraordinary interpositions of divine 
 power, when the wondrous works of the apostles were sound- 
 ing in their ears, and displaying before their eyes, tried the 
 spirits whether they were of God ; searching the Scriptures 
 daily, to see whether these things were so. The question, 
 therefore, is reduced to this, — 1. Is there now an equally 
 importunate challenge? 2. Are there equal means of in- 
 vestigation 1 
 
 1. The first question is quickly resolved. 
 
 When a miracle was exhibited before the eyes of the ancient 
 heathen, it by no means necessarily roused his attention to a 
 proper pitch of curiosity. Prejudice was active, subterfuges 
 
EARLIER AND LATER CHURCH. 199 
 
 had been invented, and he could stifle all tendency to further 
 investigation, by ascribing it to magic, or the powers ordi- 
 narily claimed by the wonder-workers of the day. To be- 
 hold and to proceed in inquiry, demanded sincerity of heart, 
 unconquerable love of truth, a fortitude to abide the conse- 
 quences of conviction, which were by no means doubtful or 
 desirable. Hence even of the beholders the number of con- 
 verts was comparatively small, and were of that little band 
 (how little, alas ! in every stage of society,) who dared to see 
 with their own eyes, and act upon the dictates of their own 
 breasts. 
 
 But it was not to every convert that a miracle was ex- 
 hibited ; and where there was a single link of evidence inter- 
 posed, the above indisposing causes would operate with 
 tenfold influence. The interval was equivalent to the whole 
 series of evidence interposed between thoSe days and ours ; 
 and if he did not follow up immediately the call upon his 
 attention, all trace was soon lost: the Christian was met but 
 here and there, came and went, and was quickly lost sight of 
 amid the predominance of the Pagan world. On the con- 
 trary, the unbeliever of these days must divest himself of 
 first-instilled principles, and absolutely make his escape from 
 society, yea, even from the face of inanimate nature, studded 
 as it is with monuments of Christianity, if he would avoid 
 the incessant solicitation of the Gospel of Christ. Assuredly 
 it would be ridiculous for the modern even to hint at 
 any disadvantage here. 
 
 2. With regard to the means of research, the modern may 
 murmur at the nearness of source to the ancients, — at its dis- 
 tance from himself: may complain that he has to trace up a 
 long course of evidence, extending through many ages : that 
 while he dips his scoop in the stream, he has not in imme- 
 diate sight the cleaving arm and the yawning rock to assure 
 him of its miraculous source. How justifiable such a com- 
 plaint may be, will appear from a very brief parallel of their 
 respective means of evidence, and motives to enter faithfully 
 upon it. To the one is presented the Church of Christ, 
 young, insignificant, and scattered; but concentrated, with 
 surpassing power, upon every point, however detached, by its 
 possession of miraculous powers : to the other, the church 
 established for ages, universally diflfused, strong in connexion 
 with the bonds of society, but gifted only with the ordinary 
 powers of the spirit. To the one, the records of faith, not always 
 
200 COMPARATIVE OPPORTUNITIES OF THE 
 
 at hand to peruse, not always perhaps collected into one body, 
 hut cotemporary with his own days, or not long prior : to the 
 other, every where at hand, gathered into one volume universally 
 acknowledged, but of a date long prior to his own times. To the 
 one, an' acquaintance with a despised people and a barbarous 
 literature : to the other, all that has been in association in his 
 mind with good and admirable from his cradle. To the one a 
 brief examination, with little leisure and much peril : to the 
 other a long review, with ample leisure and unbounded secu- 
 rity. W ith regard to motive, the one had every reason to desist, 
 where the other had every reason to begin. Where the con- 
 vert looked around for others to keep him in countenance, he 
 saw them sprinkled here and there, the offscourings, scoff, 
 and derision of the world ; the food of the axe, the stake and 
 the amphitheatre : while the other beholds all the civilized 
 tribes of earth, — the wise and the good, princes and their peo- 
 ple, challenging him to their example, and crying out unto 
 him, in freedom and not in bonds, to be even such as they. 
 
 In reply to the more reasonable demand of the other, who 
 covets the moral effect of the miracles of the early church in 
 stirring up the energies to holy action, we may first assert, 
 generally, that the ancient, not having been nursed up from 
 his cradle in the faith, may reasonably expect a more power- 
 ful excitement, and that what was lost in time should be 
 made up in intensity : we should also take into the account 
 the overwhelming trials to which he was exposed. If, how- 
 ever, it be answered, as it may, that such trials have occurred 
 in later periods without any corresponding supernatural help, 
 then (to omit the remark, that the extraordinary gifts at that 
 period bestowed, were not so much designed for the assist- 
 ance of individuals, as necessary to the very existence of the 
 church, and have accordingly been withdrawn, since it has 
 ceased to be a scattered and helpless body,) we may confi- 
 dently assert, that the desired moral effect still resides with 
 the church, in its documents, the Holy Scriptures ; to which, 
 if a person diligently apply, and open his heart, he cannot 
 but imbibe the effect, which is not the less abiding for not 
 being communicated by immediate impulse. In fact, the dis- 
 tance at which he views the w^ondrous dealings of God in 
 olden times, is compensated by their being presented, not de- 
 tached, as they must have been to the spectator; but coming 
 before his mind in one harmonious series, converging to one 
 purpose, not to the benefit of this or that individual or parti- 
 
EARLIER AND LATER CHURCH. 201 
 
 cular church, — as they might have appeared when they took 
 place, — but to the Support and glory of the universal church ; 
 to the comfort and encouragement of its members throughout 
 all lands and all ages, to the end of the world. O yes ! even 
 to us at the present day, if we but give our hearts and minds 
 their due exercise in their most glorious province, and draw 
 nigh with them and commune with Him, to whom a thousand 
 years are as a day, and generations but a span long, the effect 
 of those wondrous works comes down through ages undi- 
 minished. Even to us the dumb speaks, the withered arm 
 glows with life, the leper drops his polluting scales, — the 
 lame walk, the blind see, the dead arise. 
 
 To say nothing of individual experience, we have convinc- 
 ing proof of this from public and well-known facts, for in 
 what instance have the modern martyrs fallen beneath the an- 
 cient 1 Their bodily sufferings could scarcely be less, their 
 spiritual trial certainly more severe, as it was administered 
 by false brethren, and not by avowed unbelievers. Mighty, 
 indeed, is the power of the word of God, when read diligently 
 and earnestly, as if it were the voice of oar Saviour speaking 
 to us, searching our thoughts, and rousing our affections ; but 
 it comes with incalculable force in the hour of trouble, which 
 shuts out all help and comfort from without, and compels us 
 to the only place of refuge, the throne of God, established in 
 our own bosoms by long and unwearied edification of his 
 Gospel. 
 
 Thus far with regard to the most obvious appearance of 
 unequal distribution of advantages to the members of the 
 earlier and later church. A less prominent, but certainly 
 not less important, subject of comparison, is the nature of 
 those daily and ordinary opportunities, which the Christian 
 is to distinguish, and to separate from their accompanying 
 impediments, and turn to the account of godliness. 
 
 Christ in his holy church has assigned to every one his 
 proper station. All is ordained of him, even to the very door- 
 keepers of his house, the lowest of his holy priesthood. 
 And as he has openly appointed some apostles, some prophets, 
 some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, with their 
 respective spheres of duty ; so has he also, not less really, 
 though from the nature of the thing less visibly, determined 
 the place and duties of all those for whose edification they 
 were appointed : and most gTievously will the layman mistake, 
 if he thinks that all his thoughts and actions are to be less 
 s2 
 
202 rOMPAP.ATIVE OrPORTUNITIES OF THE 
 
 directfid towards the honour and ^]ory of the jrreat head and 
 glorious hody to which he belongs, than the lives of those 
 who occupy, as doctors in his church, a more definite place. 
 If his exertions he from his station less conspicuous, they 
 must not be less substantial ; from every one God requires 
 the whole of his services, which he must duly render, keep- 
 ing watch with his eye by day, and his ear by night. From 
 the moment that the Christian awakes each day, to that in 
 which his Master kindly lays him down again, he is encoun- 
 tered by a perpetual throng of circumstances, — in which he 
 must distinguish good from evil, extracting from them the 
 opportunity which God presents, and surmounting the impedi- 
 ments with which it may be clogged. He must not think 
 to despise the slightness of the occasion: were it, in his 
 Lord's own words, but to give a cup of cold water, it must 
 not be passed by. For it comes immediately from his hands, 
 it is afforded as a means of stirring up, and calling out into 
 practice the grace which is in him; of exercising his spiritual 
 strength, of trj'ing his discernment; and is the forerunner of 
 another, which its omission will render more difficult, both of 
 being distinguished and arrested. Unemployed it is irrevo- 
 cable; misemployed it is pernicious. Such opportunities are 
 too apt to be estimated by the effects which they produce 
 around us; which may often be trifling, and not upon us, 
 which can never be unimportant, oftener than we think, most 
 momentous. Thus at every step and turn, the Christian has 
 some call upon him to separate good from evil ; to choose the 
 one and eschew the other, diligently distinguishing the work 
 of the Lord from the business of the world. 
 
 Applying these considerations to the case before us, it must 
 be allowed that the state of prosperity and security, by which 
 the present period of the church differs from the earlier, espe- 
 cially from that in which the apostle addressed the P^phe- 
 sians, makes the discernment of God's opportunities more 
 difficult. We are not mingled with the heathen side by side, 
 the contrast of whose darkness would bring them before us in 
 a stronger light ; they are of the colour of all around, — lie 
 hid in the multiplicity of similar shapes. It is Christian 
 society all around us. At the same time, however, we are 
 delivered from the dangerous infection of the heathen's ex- 
 ample, which, while it threw some things forward in a 
 stronger light, offered too convenient a shade for others. 
 Again, not to dwell upon the unwillingness of exertion pro- 
 
EARLIER AND LATER CHURCH. 203 
 
 duced by such a state, prosperity mingles evil with good in so 
 subtle an union, throws such an equalizing gloss on the face 
 of things, and renders, also, by the compact condition of 
 society which accompanies it, relations so complicated, that 
 a steady and acute discernment is necessary to distinguish 
 what is wholesome from what is unwholesome. Whereas 
 in times of affliction, where society is broken up, those rela- 
 tions are narrow and simple ; the opportunity to be arrested 
 is of greater dimensions, comes in a pronounced and distinct 
 form, set out in all the contrast of light and shade. But then 
 it comes accompanied with circumstances of terror and dis- 
 may, sufficient to quell any heart which has not prepared 
 itself to undergo the extreme of suffering. While in the 
 other case, the person raises around him but a ring or two of 
 waves of trouble upon the calm surface of society, and all is 
 still as before. Besides, this latter has had more leisure to 
 form and give an edge to his discernment ; he has been all 
 along used to the minute shades by which circumstances 
 around him are distinguished, and the calm and security with 
 which God hath blessed him, will indeed have been abused, 
 if it shall not have been employed in maturing the faculties 
 which he has given him, with a view to their improvement. 
 Steadiness of view, patience of observation, and a quick dis- 
 cernment of minute differences, are the qualities which his 
 state is required to produce. But supposing the opportunity 
 equally discerned by each party, it may now be contended 
 that it is not with us presented in company with those dis- 
 tinct and energetic motives to action, which enforced its 
 application in earlier times. It is true that in our days of 
 peace, society moves but sjuggishly in answer to any im- 
 pression. The effect, therefore, does not so immediately 
 follow; there are certain stages in the operation, and hence 
 also we have often a series of motives to go through, before 
 we arrive at the final which determines. We are, moreover, 
 naturally reluctant to disturb the calm surface around us by 
 any unusual exertion. Whereas in the other case, the effect 
 would more immediately follow, and society was already in 
 derangement. But we have most ample compensation in 
 this, that our declining of such opportunities is not so imme- 
 diately fatal. There is a train of them, and in the space 
 allowed us between the neglect of the first, and a fall from 
 the faith, we may relieve ourselves by arresting another. 
 But there was presented at once the dreadful final alterna- 
 
204 COMPARATIVE OPPORTUNITIES OF THE 
 
 live — " Christ or no Christ," — and the opportunity once 
 passed, gave him over to a reprobate mind, accused him of 
 apostacy, bade him curse God, and die. The author of the 
 Epistle to the Hebrews, says (vi. 4), "For it is impossible 
 for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted of the 
 heavenly gift; and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, 
 and have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the 
 world to come ; if they shall fall away, to renew them again 
 unto repentance, seeing that they crucify unto themselves the 
 son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame." Any 
 wilful sin w^as certain, in those days of persecution, to draw 
 that of apostacy with it; the above passage, therefore, would 
 excite no remark upon its uncompromising severity. Yet 
 how alarming is its tone to the reader of the present day ; 
 conscious of wilful sin, how dreadful does he find his situa- 
 tion, and how disproportionate does he think the conse- 
 quences to the offence: but how relieved he feels at once 
 from all his terrors, when he has discovered it is the sin of 
 apostacy which is thus terribly denounced; and how careful 
 modern commentators are to assure him of this. We have 
 in this fact a strong proof of the happiness of our lot in these 
 later days. 
 
 We might proceed to a long extent in comparing the cir- 
 cumstances of the two periods; but sufficient perhaps has 
 been already stated, and it may be enough to observe in 
 brief, that then physical courage was rather called into ac- 
 tion, — now moral : then danger w^as rather the object of 
 dread, — now opinion : then man was combated rather face to 
 face, — now he is entrapped by a net for the feet. The 
 tempter then had more recourse to brute force, — now he in- 
 sinuates. On these and similar points we should still find 
 advantage and disadvantage equally distributed to the two 
 periods, and that God's ways are equal ; it is ours that are 
 unequal. 
 
 We are not, therefore, in the least behind our predecessors 
 in the church of Christ on this consideration : we have equal 
 means wath the Ephesians of redeeming the time, since the 
 days are evil. And having ascertained the peculiar cha- 
 racter of our times, let us become sensible to the imposing 
 necessity of turning it to its proper account; of using the 
 leisure and security which w^e are enjoying to the cultivation 
 of the faculties with which God has blessed us; to bring 
 them, in a time so favourable, to that degree of ripeness, that 
 
EARLIER AND LATER CHURCH. 205 
 
 we may in every case distinguish the occasions presented by 
 our master, of serving him to the honour and glory of his 
 name. There are also not a few errors, peculiar to this our 
 state, against which we have to guard ; and one or two of 
 these I shall now proceed to describe. 
 
 When alarmed at the uncontemplated result of any action, 
 men are apt to fly for consolation to the consciousness of 
 having done it with the best and purest intentions. Now 
 this would be a reasonable resource for one who, as in the 
 times of ancient persecution, lived from day to day with his 
 life on the edge of the sword; who, in jeopardy every hour, 
 had little time to balance consequences, and therefore trusted 
 in God for supplying his deficiency of foresight, provided 
 the feeling upon which he acted were right. But it will furnish 
 no excuse for us of this our period. The great searcher of 
 all hearts has for us another interrogation to put: " Has due 
 advantage been taken of the leisure and security afforded in 
 my church, to form that conscience aright? The volume 
 containing my will has never been violently plucked out of 
 your hands ; so comparatively regular is the train of events, 
 that scarcely one might not have been provided against by a 
 mind zealous of obedience ; your meditations have been un- 
 broken from without. What excuse then can you plead for 
 being taken by surprise at any moment, and being obliged to 
 act blindfold upon the crude and hasty dictates of an unin- 
 formed conscience]" Let us anticipate in our own hearts 
 this solemn interrogation, and judge ourselves, that we be 
 not judged of the Lord. 
 
 If mere conscience (not considering whether it be informed 
 or not, according to the means afforded), be sufficient to 
 sanctify any act, how soon would the will of our master be- 
 come a dead letter, since he that knows much, and he that 
 knows little, may then do equally good service. How un- 
 necessarily urgent would seem the apostle's injunction " to 
 be vigilant, to be sober, to be understanding what the will of 
 the Lord is." Why need we think of the advice, "to exa- 
 mine our ownselves, prove our ownselves, know our own- 
 selves ?" Why should we take heed to the warning of the 
 prophet, who tells us tliat " the heart is deceitful above all 
 things'?" Why to the command "to make the best of the 
 talents committed to our charge," of which the knowledge of 
 God's will is the most precious, for he has not made us mere 
 creatures of impulse"? Assuredly the heart which has not 
 
206 COMPARATIVE OPPORTUNITIES OP THE 
 
 been strictly trained up, and informed by diligent comparison 
 with God's holy word and commandments, — which has not 
 had its motives continually and jealously questioned, nor 
 been checked here, spurned there, disciplined every where, 
 will, when suddenly called forth, carry into action some in- 
 terested motive, some unworthy affection, which the emer- 
 gency of the moment allows it not leisure to sift and expel. 
 When too late they make their appearance, overwhelm with 
 shame and confusion, and discourage in future from the very 
 best and safest undertakings. 
 
 If in this period we are called upon for a higher exertion 
 of our faculties, we have also to guard more against that 
 abuse of them, which, like the weed to the plant, is so apt to 
 spring up with them, and choke or distort their growth. One 
 of these, beyond all others, requires a constant curb from 
 the sober and vigilant Christian; and the more so, perhaps, 
 in proportion to the cultivation of his mind, — and that is the 
 imagination. Beyond number, indeed, and beyond weight, 
 are the evils to which its abuse may give birth : one only, 
 however, concerns the subject now in hand. 
 
 In those early days of the church, to which so much 
 reference has been made, the real and deeply contrasted 
 events with which they were engaged, the numerous perils 
 with which they were beset around, the frequent calls to 
 come forward and do or suffer, utterly prevented them from 
 attending to its delusions. But in a period of leisure and 
 security, like ours, it is drawn upon to supply as it may that 
 excitement, and administer to that novelty which is so natural 
 to man. This it is which, above all, blinds the mind's sight 
 to the occasions presented by the hand of God. They are 
 not sufficiently striking, forsooth, they are associated with 
 common-place, and the detail of ordinary life; they are 
 tricked out in none of those brilliant colours with which it 
 has invested the day of proof and trial ; they are therefore 
 carelessly passed by, — another comes, and still another, but 
 neither is it yet the time. He reserves himself for a day of 
 his own choosing, and not of God's offering; he looks for- 
 ward in his carnal mind to some theatrical exhibition of his 
 faith ; and the future confessor, amid his lofty speculation, is 
 overthrown and brought to the ground by the slightest and 
 the most despised of daily incidents : for the value of any 
 excitemerlt of mind where this power alone is concerned, — 
 for the reality of his zeal, his love, his faith, and all on which 
 
EARLIER AND LATER CHURCH. 207 
 
 he builds, I would refer him to no unsubstantial vision, but 
 an actual scene which shortly preceded the death of our 
 blessed Lord. Of that immense crowd which, with waving 
 boughs of palm, and loud hosannas, were conducting him 
 through the streets of Jerusalem over their strewn garments, 
 in triumph to his temple, how many, but a few days after, 
 interfered to save him from the Cross? how many did not 
 surround that Cross with mockings and revilings 1 
 
 Shall the opportunity then set before his eyes, serve at 
 best but as a key note to a strain of idle dreaming, and un- 
 profitable speculation ] Yet, to use the words of the law- 
 giver, it is not hidden from him, neither is it afar off: it is 
 not in heaven nor beyond the sea, but it is nigh unto him 
 that he may do it. O, never let the healthy activity of prac- 
 tice yield to a morbid habit of speculation ; hurtful as the 
 effects of such an exchange will be, they will not stop at 
 mere neglect of opportunities, but go on to undermine the 
 foundations of religious faith, which can continue pure in 
 doctrine, and vital in practice, only by resolutely casting off 
 all self-conceived notions ; by bringing the imagination in 
 strict subjection to the sober tenor of Scripture, by giving up 
 the heart in all simplicity, and the mind in concentrated 
 attention upon its facts and doctrines, and by seeking 
 diligently every occasion to put the grace of God into 
 practical eflect. 
 
 When our blessed Saviour was anointed by Mary with a 
 most costly unguent, a murmur was vented against her by 
 the man who was on the point of betraying him, because she 
 had not rather sold it, and distributed the money to the poor. 
 Our Lord approved of Mary's act, he accepted it as the last 
 pious ofhce of a nearest and dearest friend, who had thus 
 anointed his body for burial. By this approval, he has given 
 us indeed a strong admonition how we should employ every 
 occasion of showing towards him our entire devotion and 
 love ; for that occasion is offered by himself, in that he is pe- 
 culiarly present. We are not to turn away, as his betrayer, 
 and the tempter of that betrayer would persuade us, and shut up 
 our heart; substituting for the lively reality a crowd of beings 
 of neither time nor place, who can neither feel nor be felt for. 
 Thus entering into a ruinous barter, by which we may think 
 to make compensation for our neglect of God's work, by the 
 greater good which we imagine ourselves to be pursuing, and 
 proceeding in regular course from sins of omission to those of 
 
208 COMPARATIVE OPPORTUNITIES OF THE 
 
 commission. What indeed were this but a mental idolatry, 
 what but to turn from the face of the living God and address 
 ourselves to the work of our own hands ; rather let us pour 
 upon him, now that he is with us, the whole treasure of our 
 exertions, and fill the house of his presence with its perfume. 
 Whatever the future may be, however brilliant, however im- 
 portant, let us remember that, by God's ordinance, the pre- 
 sent is the only door to it ; and if in our hasty presumption 
 we leap over the wall, we alight without the fold of God, 
 and not within it. 
 
 In that fold, in his holy and blessed church, we have been 
 gathered by Christ, having been bought with a price, even 
 with his own precious blood, and are his servants to do his 
 will, and not to seek our own. We are to keep a vigilant 
 look out for the opportunities peculiar to the several stations 
 which he has assigned us ; and these, if attended to, are 
 sufficient to crowd our sphere of duty to fulness. In arro- 
 gating a wider range, we are assuming a power which he has 
 not accorded us, and with a barren ambition overlooking what 
 he has put legitimately into our grasp. There, in that calling 
 in which he hath called us, is his presence-chamber ; there 
 is his holy place, in which only he will accept our offerings ; 
 there is the Zion of the living God, where if we be not found, 
 we are bowing before the calves at Bethel. If our own ex- 
 perience happily has not taught us, let us learn from the 
 warning voice of others, that if there be one circumstance 
 which more than another embitters a retrospect, it is the 
 view of unemployed opportunities : they have glided by per- 
 haps with slight impression, and carelessly noticed ; but, 
 like those bowmen of old, are terrible when past, dealing be- 
 hind them wounds of remorse and shame; then their de- 
 spiser, in amazement, beholds the number which he has 
 permitted to pass by, and sees them blocking up against him 
 that point to which they were tending, and might have con- 
 ducted him. And that is some blessing from which he now 
 finds himself for ever excluded ; some honourable sphere per- 
 haps of usefulness, never now to be gained ; some service in 
 his Heavenly Master's house on earth, replete with heart- 
 filling and exalted duties which is now unattainable: and 
 finding that fortune, upon which he has been drawing like a 
 thoughtless spendthrift, entirely empty of its treasures, sits 
 down, bankrupt in hope, and bemoaning his folly in vain. 
 
 Can he complain that those opportunities came to him not 
 
EARLIER AND LATER CHURCH. 209 
 
 sufficiently distinct for his apprehension 1 This is but to 
 admit that he was deficient in vigilance. His Heavenly 
 Master gave him ample notice of their passage, for all were 
 accompanied with some change of body or mind, or the 
 things without ; with gain or with loss ; with joy or with 
 sorrow ; with warning or with invitation, which might have 
 awakened all but the determinedly reckless. And by their 
 proper disposal he might have obtained the gift of still 
 greater, and seen in their giver an unfailing author of good, 
 to whom he could look up with confidence in the hour of 
 need; an object of faithful though imperfect services, whom 
 he could regard with the sure and certain hope of his reward ; 
 an indulgent and long-suffering Lord, who would often be 
 content to take the will for the deed. But now, alas, the 
 contrast ! He sees in that giver a kind master neglected and 
 disobeyed; a friend who had even given his life for him 
 empty-handed and unrequited; a witness whose testimony 
 shall reach his most secret and perverse ways ; and a judge 
 with whom there shall be no favour. 
 
 The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Oh ! as he 
 hath given us the light through his Holy Spirit, may he con- 
 tinue it unto us, nor may we by recklessness of life give him 
 cause to take it away. May we thus be enabled with all dis- 
 cernment to redeem the time, with grace to order all our 
 works to his honour and glory, and offer to him in our souls 
 and our bodies a continual sacrifice of praise and thanks- 
 giving. 
 
 T 
 
210 
 
 DISSERTATION XVI. 
 
 ON THE FORTUNES OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and 
 lift up your heads, for your redemption draweth nigh. — Luke, 
 xxi. 28. 
 
 Through all varieties of climes, of tongues, of laws, of cus- 
 toms ; through all alternations of barbarism and civilization ; 
 through all migrations of people, changes of empire, and con- 
 fusion of the tribes of mankind ; through all these impedi- 
 ments the Church of God has come down to us uninterrupted 
 and triumphant, and uninterrupted and triumphant (our Sa- 
 viour has informed us) it shall proceed to the end. But as 
 in looking back upon its history we see it often engaged in a 
 desperate conflict, sometimes brought even to death's door, 
 so in looking forward we must expect to find a similar state 
 of things, to see her still militant against the world, and the 
 world still warring upon her ; nor are we left to reasonable 
 expectation alone. Our Lord and his apostles have assured 
 us that such will be her condition, and have even shadowed 
 forth in words of prophecy some of the most important trials 
 which she is still destined to undergo. 
 
 Perhaps at no period of the world has the face of the Chris- 
 tian Church presented a more interesting appearance than at 
 the present day. A long period of calm and security is past, 
 and a period of most foreboding aspect is coming on. Super- 
 stition and infidelity, which combined their powers against 
 her in her infancy, are once again in open league. Wherever 
 we cast our eyes they are met with churches tottering, and 
 creeds insulted. But it was amid the fearful signs which 
 proclaimed and accompanied the overthrow of what had been 
 a portion of God's Church, that our blessed Lord bade his 
 
ON THE FORTUNES OF THE CHURCH. 211 
 
 disciples to look up, and lift up their heads, for that their re- 
 demption drew nigh. May not then the spiritual man derive 
 a similar comfort from similar signs 1 Certain it is, that a 
 careful reader of the history of the church will find, that the 
 ruin of any portion of it has led to the extension of its domi- 
 nion in other quarters, and with a purer creed. A connected 
 series of events is readily traced between the lamentable fall 
 of the eastern church, and the spread of the gospel over the 
 western hemisphere. And, in every case, assured as we are 
 of the duration of the body, we can regard the visitations, 
 which afflict its individual members, as the operations of the 
 master of the vineyard ; who is lopping off dead branches, 
 removing choking weeds and overshadowing shrubs, and 
 pruning even his choicest vines ; thus baring them to the fos- 
 tering breath of his spirit, and to the ripening sun of his Gos- 
 pel. So that here, even where we ourselves are sufferers, 
 still may we look up, and rejoice that our redemption draweth 
 nigh. Yea, even should our own particular vine be shorn to 
 the ground, yet, as long as the root remains, we may com- 
 fort ourselves with confidently looking forward to its shortly 
 putting forth its branches with redoubled vigour and fruitful- 
 ness. That, in the darkest and most perplexing times, we 
 may quote these words of our Lord with joyful hope, will 
 appear from considering that by a law, resulting from the very 
 nature of the church, a period of affliction will usher in one 
 of triumph. 
 
 The church is a society taken out from the slavery of the 
 world, and brought together into the liberty of the Gospel. 
 Did it, therefore, consist but of perfect members, it were re- 
 moved beyond all influence of this world for good or for evil ; 
 the world would not have a single tie or hold upon them, but 
 all being free in the spirit, would be unassailable by any 
 chance or change affecting the flesh. But its members are 
 all in different stages towards perfection, very many far re- 
 mote from it. They are still liable, therefore, to the chains 
 of the world, and the whole, as a body, subject to temporal 
 accidents. The world reduces men into its slavery either by 
 compulsion or by seduction ; that is, by persecution or by 
 temporal prosperity. These two modes w^e will briefly con- 
 sider. No son of man can be so disengaged from the world 
 as not severely to feel, however he may withstand, the 
 power of persecution. Every man will join with the holy 
 Zacharias in the expression, that we, being delivered out of 
 
212 ON THE FORTUNES OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 the hand of our enemies, might serve our God without fear, 
 in holiness and righteousness before him, all the days of our 
 life. For at such a time, not only is his outer man afflicted 
 by constraint put upon his means of worship, by his con- 
 stancy being every moment put to the proof by the threats of 
 the sword of the magistrate, and sometimes tried almost to 
 exhaustion by incessant watchfulness and resistance; but his 
 inward man is grieved for the honour and glory of God be- 
 fore men. His holy church is shut up in a beleagured city ; 
 neither her armies nor ambassadors can go forth ; her num- 
 bers are daily thinned by apostacy, her provisions are run 
 short by the hindrance given to the word. Help us, he cries 
 with the Psalmist, O God of our salvation, for the glory of 
 thy name : O deliver us, and be merciful unto our sins, for 
 thy name's sake. Wherefore do the heathen say, where is 
 now their God. But no affliction, however severe, can be 
 superior to the comfort which the church can administer, for 
 that comfort was ordained to quell the very head of all afflic- 
 tion, the loss of bliss and innocence. And the church is then 
 peculiarly in her vocation when her consolation is most 
 needed ; then all her treasures are opened and poured forth, 
 and, as worldly sorrows deepen, her spiritual bounties be- 
 come more prodigal, their measure ever keeping far in advance 
 of the quantity of affliction which called them forth ; to hun- 
 ger, and nakedness, and the sword, she opposes the spiritual 
 banquet of the knowledge of God in Jesus Christ, the robes 
 of righteousness and everlasting glory, the life without end in 
 the world to come. These glorious promises, which seemed 
 afar off amid worldly security and enjoyment, are now 
 brought close to the suiferer's eyes, and amid the most fear- 
 ful signs he may look up, and lift up his head, for his redemp- 
 tion draweth nigh. 
 
 The church of God is too strong for the world ; ^he is ever 
 one and the same ; her members are united by an unvarying, 
 undying principle, which is faith in the redemption wrought 
 in Christ Jesus. But worldly society is never in one stay, it 
 has no abiding principle to keep it together, day by day it is 
 changing manners, morals, and institutions. What wonder, 
 then, if, with all its kingdoms, and principalities, and powers, 
 it has been compelled to desist from its fierce attacks ; if mo- 
 narchies in ancient times, and republics in modern, have been 
 unable to maintain the persecution which they had begun : 
 the weakness of God has overcome the strength of man. It 
 
ON THE FORTUNES OF THE CHURCH. 213 
 
 is at this moment, when persecution has but lately ceased, 
 that the visible church is seen in all its beauty ; the storm, 
 however it might have ruffled her leaves, has refreshed her 
 root, her main trunk shoots its branches anew, and she puts 
 on double beauty for all her former uncomeliness. Her 
 withered leaves, her rotten boughs, have been carried away 
 by the violence of the tempest. Now she is reaping the re- 
 ward of her sufferings ; now is come the redemption to which 
 she looked through the veil of her afflictions. But, after a 
 brief interval, the world renews its attacks, and in a different 
 manner ; the high courage which she has shown, the splendid 
 victory which she has gained, the stability which she has dis- 
 closed, draw the admiring gaze of men upon her, and gain 
 attention to her doctrines ; generous and candid minds are 
 won over to her faith, every day she extends the curtains of 
 her tent. But now that all is peace, now that she and the 
 world are not openly and bodily at issue, the worldlings flock 
 in, and with them the thoughts, the affections, and the pas- 
 sions of the world. The world now seduces her members 
 into its slavery ; and much more dangerous is this mode of 
 its attack, inasmuch as the apostates which it makes do not 
 go out from the church, and relieve the labouring vessel of a 
 heavy and useless cargo, as in time of persecution; but re- 
 main within, where their false doctrine eateth as doth a 
 canker: hence heresies, seditions, strife, with all their train 
 of evil ; society, civil and religious, is disturbed, and at 
 length broken up ; calamity regains its turn. 
 
 If we look at the state of the church throughout the civil- 
 ized world, we cannot but be persuaded that it is close upon 
 one of these critical alternations ; the calm and smooth water 
 is nearly passed through, and our ears can now distinctly hear 
 the noise of the waves, and ouy eyes discern the foam of the 
 breakers ; distress of nations is coming on with perplexity, 
 the sea and the waves roaring : if ever there was a time which 
 called for reflection and humiliation, it is the present. These 
 may, immediately, through God's acceptance and blessing, 
 and mediately through the moral effects, which by the laws 
 of his governance they produce, work a salutary change, and 
 soften, if not avert, the impending chastisement. Let us, 
 therefore, take a brief review of the responsibility under 
 which seasons of prosperity lay both nations and individuals, 
 as component parts of the universal church of God. 
 
 One of the most grievous mistakes of the present day, and 
 T 2 
 
214 ON THE FORTUNES OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 one which assuredly will reap tenfold retribution, is the sup- 
 position that it is unnecessary for a nation which is composed 
 of members calling themselves Christians, to assume a posi- 
 tive Christian character : that, while every individual is 
 bound, as a servant of Christ, to seek in all things the pro- 
 motion of his honour and glory, yet their joint and concen- 
 trated efforts, which are the acts of government of the country, 
 need have no reference whatever to this result : such a sup- 
 position either implies a contradiction, or something much 
 worse. The very opposite to it is that which must present 
 itself to a truly Christian mind. A nation of men which pro- 
 fess Christ, must also possess Christ, and with the same dis- 
 tinctness ; it must openly show the sign of the cross ; and 
 vain are all its counsels which are not directed to the glory 
 of God as their final object : the course of the affairs of this 
 world ever has and ever will be directed by God towards the 
 coming of his kingdom. This way tends the great stream of 
 earthly events, and the counsels of a people, which follow 
 this direction, can have no obstacle : they will be borne 
 steadily along to a successful end. But such as go not with 
 this stream, will shortly be dashed to pieces and overwhelmed 
 by the strength of the current ; the former will bring happi- 
 ness and honour, and the latter will meet with defeat and 
 shame. To seek first the kingdom of God and his righteous- 
 ness, is no less the duty and policy of the nation than of each 
 of its citizens ; and demoralization, with its certain suc- 
 cession of intestine commotion, and foreign subjugation, is 
 sooner or later the certain reward of every people which ne- 
 glects this prime commandment of our Saviour. 
 
 But if we consider a nation of Christians not only with 
 reference to its internal polity, and external communication 
 with other nations of Christians, but also with reference to 
 the heathen nations with which God's providence, preparing 
 his kingdom, has brought it into contact, great indeed is its 
 responsibility : so much the greater still on account of the 
 very small number to whom he has granted such an oppor- 
 tunity of doing his service : a number so small, that it im- 
 plies an election to the purpose, an ordination to the office. 
 That nation has been made peculiarly his priesthood, to 
 preach his word to the heathen ; and if that nation be at the 
 same time at the very summit of prosperity and civilization, 
 then has God also entrusted to it, as to a preacher of his 
 Gospel, powers of similar eflicacy to that of miracles which 
 
ON THE FORTUNES OF THE CHURCH. 215 
 
 he shed upon his early preachers ',- for the g-ift of workino- 
 miracles was withdrawn, was in fact superseded, as soon as 
 the church became a compact and influential body, so as to 
 force its principles on the attention of the heathen. And 
 when Christianity became the religion of the civilized world, 
 so effectual a substitute was this civilization, that even the 
 conquering barbarian heathen adopted the religion of the con- 
 quered Christian. By such an engine were all the modern 
 nations of Europe converted ; shall they then be excused if 
 they neglect any opportunity of doing the same towards their 
 fellow men, who still lie in darkness and the shadow of 
 death 1 The engine which has been committed to the hands 
 of our nation is more powerful still than this. For we ap- 
 pear among' the heathen as conquerors. We have been 
 furnished with the most forcible means of drawing their no- 
 tice towards the Gospel of Christ. And if we take proper 
 means to show them that to that Gospel we owe our su- 
 periority; if the Cross of Christ, every where displayed, 
 inscribed on our banners, waving over our victorious palaces, 
 proclaim that great is the Lord God of England ; if our reli- 
 gion be seen marching- with our hosts, like the tabernacle of 
 God, among our captains, and not our camp followers, shining 
 like the Urim and Thummim on the breasts of our counsellors 
 and rulers ; if it be embodied to their eyes in an organized, 
 publicly acknowledged, and sufficiently numerous ministry, 
 can the effects be calculated 1 Has God placed such means 
 in the hands of any nation since the world began ] The 
 conquering empires, which he has hitherto employed to 
 further his kingdom upon earth, have been brute unconscious 
 agents, which knew no more of him, and of his counsels, than 
 the saw or the axe does of the mind of him that handles and 
 employs them. But our nation has had imparted to it the life of 
 the Gospel, — has had revealed to it his gracious purpose of 
 salvation, his will that the Gospel should be preached to every 
 creature. By the peculiar position in which he has placed 
 it, he has clearly intimated to it that it should " go teach all 
 nations." May it so answer the call, that he may say also, 
 " I am with thee to the end of the world." That this call 
 has not been answered hitherto in any degree corresponding- 
 to its pointedness, to its urgency, to the gifts on which it 
 presumes, must be confessed with shame and confusion of 
 face ; and in every national humiliation. Hither the heart of 
 the true penitent for national sins will turn, and find the 
 
216 ON THE FORTUNES OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 burthen of his song of lamentation : here he will find his 
 chief cause of fearfulness and trembling. For he will reflect 
 that God makes the adversity of nations to minister to his 
 purposes, no less than their prosperity. The temporal loss 
 of Israel was the spiritual gain of the world. He was 
 broken in pieces like a potter's vessel, and his scattered sons 
 were made God's preachers among the heathen, to prepare 
 the way of the Prince of Peace. By a reverse operation God 
 concentrated the barbarians upon the falling Roman empire, 
 and thus brought them within the sound of his Gospel. 
 Surely this is a most awful consideration to a nation so pre- 
 eminently gifted by God for doing him service, as ours has 
 been. Surely it is possible, it is but too probable, that if we 
 have neglected to yield this service out of the abundance of 
 our prosperity, then he will wring it out of the straight- 
 ness of our adversity: if we have refused to be conscious 
 agents, then he will turn us into unconscious tools of his 
 purposes. 
 
 To all this, and anxiety with regard to the sentence which 
 God may pronounce upon his nation, the individual has to 
 add the fearful sense of his own responsibility. A sincere 
 feeling of humiliation, a true knowledge of the principles of 
 tlie Gospel, will remind the best of men, that, sinner as he is, 
 he must have contributed a share to the national sinfulness, 
 on which fearful visitation seems fast descending. Then, 
 as one who sees his own sin, not only in himself, but con- 
 fronting him by reflection also from others, he begins the 
 work of examination and self-rebuke. Then it is that a dreary 
 list of sins of omission and commission is presented to the 
 perusal of his mind. He then sees opportunities, which he, 
 in common with his countrymen, had received, and in com- 
 mon with them had neglected. Then he perceives how 
 different might have been the face presented by tlie Church 
 of Christ, had all employed them. And then it is that the 
 approaching period of darkness and constraint discovers to 
 him, by its appalling contrast, how inadequately he has put 
 to account the hours of calm and leisure, which have hitherto 
 been his blessed portion ; how much opportunity he had of 
 preparing his spirit for the conflict, by the study and practice 
 of God's word ; of weaning affections, which must now be 
 rudely torn from the breast ; of conquering, step by step, the 
 stripling power of the world, which now, grown suddenly to 
 a giant's might, demands of him to decide the struggle, once 
 
ON THE FORTUNES OF THE CHURCH. 217 
 
 for all, at one combat. All these reflections rise up before his 
 mind, and accuse him before the throne of God ; and mourn- 
 fully he remembers his Master's warning to " watch, for ye 
 know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of Man 
 cometh." He will prostrate himself with all contrition and 
 confusion of face, and implore forgiveness. ' There is none 
 that doeth good, no, not one, will be the confession of the 
 true penitent, on a day of national humiliation. But having 
 thus explored his heart, and opened it before God, he will, 
 with God's grace, gird up his loins, put on the whole armour 
 of light, and prepare to meet his trial with a fixed resolution 
 and unperplexed conscience. And then, when the fearful 
 signs begin to take place, when wars and commotions shall 
 be heard, when nations and kingdoms shall be shaken ; 
 when there shall be distress of nations, and failing of men's 
 hearts for fear ; when the abomination of desolation shall be 
 standing in the holy place, — he will look up and lift up his 
 head, for his redemption is at hand, the kingdom of God 
 draweth nigh. Sorrow may endure for a night, but joy 
 cometh in the morning. The storm is ushering in a glorious 
 day, and between its gusts he can overhear the tinkling of 
 the trowel of the angelic masons rebuilding the walls of Je- 
 rusalem. If his body perish in the storm, then hath the 
 kingdom of heaven arrived to him indeed ; he has obtained 
 his everlasting rest and citizenship there. If it survive, then 
 are his eyes blessed with the sight of the purified church of 
 God, shining like gold from the furnace. The vineyard of 
 the Lord lies before him, expanded in more than its former 
 loveliness. The unsightly and noxious w^eeds have been 
 removed, its hedge has been repaired, its wine-press, its 
 lake, and tutelary shed, have been replaced anew. Therefore, 
 whichever lot betide him, he will look up, lift up his head, 
 for his redemption draweth nigh. 
 
 THE END. 
 
VALUABLE WORKS 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 KEir AND BIDDLE 
 
 23 MINOR STREET. 
 
 AN ADDRESS TO THE YOUNG, ON THE IM- 
 PORTANCE OF RELIGION. By John Foster, author 
 of "Essays on Decision of Character," &c. 
 
 This is a good publication, well conceived and admirably exe- 
 cuted, full of important ti-uths and beautifully enforced. 
 
 Oui* readers know, or ought to know, John Foster, the Author of 
 "Essays on Decision of Character," one of the best writers that 
 England has produced; suited to be compared in many tilings with 
 Robert Hall, he needs no higher praise. — U. S. Gazette. 
 
 This work comprises a series of eloquent and affectionate exhor- 
 tations, which, if carefully attended to, will make wise and good men 
 of all who lay them to heart, and endeavour to accord with them in 
 life and conversation. The author has acquired great celebrity by 
 his former writings. — Saturday Courier. 
 
 We are not going to hold a rush-light up to a book of John Fos- 
 ter's, but only mean to tell what is its intent. It is an awakening 
 appeal to youth of the refined and educated sort, upon the subject of 
 their personal religion. There can be uo doubt as to its cun*ency.— 
 
 Tlie Presbyterian. 
 
 John Foster is allowed by men of all parties, political and reli- 
 gious, to be one of the most original and vigorous thinkers of the 
 age. His well tried talents, his known freedom from cant and 
 fanaticism, and the importance of the subject discussed, strongly 
 commend this book to the attention of that interesting class to M^hom 
 it is addressed. All his writings are worthy of careful and repeated 
 perusal ; but his essay on "Decision of Character" and this "Ad- 
 dress to tVie Young," should be the companions of all young persons 
 who are desirous of intellectual and moral improvement. 
 
2 VALUABLE WORKS 
 
 A MOTHER'S FIRST THOUGHTS. By the author 
 of "Faith's Telescope." 
 
 This is a brief miniature, from an Edinbvu-gh edition. Its aim is 
 to furnish religious Meditations, Prayers, and Devotional Poetry 
 for pioiis mothers. It is most highly commended in tl^; Edinburgh 
 Presbyterian Review, and in the Christian Advocate. The author, 
 who is a Lady of Scotland, unites a deep knoM ledge of sound theo- 
 logy, -with no ordinary talent for sacred poetry. — The Presbyterian. 
 
 "A Mother's First Thoughts," is a little work of great merit. 
 It breathes a spirit of pm-e and fervent piety, and abounds in sound 
 and salutary instruction. It contains also some excellent poetry. — 
 Saturday Cotirier. 
 
 A Mother's First Thoughts. By the author of "Faith's Tele- 
 scope," 12mo. pp. 223. Key & Biddle, Philadelphia, 1833. A 
 neat pocket edition, which will commend itself to all parents who 
 liave the i-ight dii-ection of the minds of their children at heart. It 
 is dedicated to religious motliers, "and may He," says the author, 
 "who alone can, render, it in some degree, conducive to tlieir edifi- 
 cation." — Jowvial of Belles Lettres. 
 
 EXAMPLE ; OR FAMILY SCENES.— This is one of those 
 useful and truly moral publications which cannot fail to be read 
 with delight by the youth of both sexes, who, as their hearts expand, 
 and they advance in years, have need of some instructor to point out 
 the path they should follow for their future happiness. The author 
 has been triumphantly successful in attaining these laudable objects 
 in this interesting pviblication. — Weekly Times. 
 
 The form of a domestic story is here judiciously selected for im- 
 parting a purity of religious feeling to juvenile readers ; and the 
 purpose as fully answered. Adults may also read this interesting 
 volume with much benefit. — Umted Kingdom. 
 
 A HARMONY OF THE FOUR GOSPELS. Founded 
 on the Arrangement of the Harmonia Evangelica, by the 
 Rev. Edward Greswell. With the Practical Reflections of 
 Dr. Doddridge. Designed for the use of Families and Schools, 
 and f(yr Private Edification. By the Rev. E. Bickersteth, 
 Rector of Wolton, Herts. 
 
 A beautiful duodecimo of ^bout four hundred pages : and one of 
 the best books which has appeared for many years, with respect to 
 personal and domestic edification. It is next to impossible to read 
 the ordinary Harmonies. The current of the narrative is broken 
 by constant interruptions. In tJds, we have in convenient sections, 
 . the fom' Gospel histories, made up into one, in proper order, in the 
 
PUBLISHED BY KEY AND BIDDLE. 3 
 
 words of the common English translation. The devotional notes of 
 Doddridge are better than any we haxe seen for reading in the clo- 
 set or at family worship. The name of Jiickersteth, prefixed to a 
 book, is enough to show that it is written simply to serve the cause 
 of Christ. — The Presbytenan. 
 
 Messrs. Key &; Biddle of this city have published a beautiful 
 edition of a popular Harmony of the Four Gospels. A book giving 
 a connected and chronological view of the History of our Savioiu-, 
 without an array of critical apparatus A^hich is useless and repulsive 
 to the common reader, has long been a desideratum in our i^eligious 
 literature. It is now supplied by the labours of Mr. Bickersteth, 
 who is well known as an able, judicious and pious writer. Each 
 section of the text is followed by brief practical reflections, from 
 the pen of Dr. Doddridge. The volume is well adapted to the 
 purposes for which it was designed by the author. — "The use of 
 families and schools, and for private edification. " — Phil. Gaz. 
 
 The religious communit}' will take delight in reading a work just 
 published, entitled "A Harmony of the Four Gospels." Scarcely 
 any thing has so much puzzled a certain order of minds, as the appa- 
 rent disagreement of parts of the New Testament. Nothing so 
 much weakens Christian faith as an impression of this soi't^whilst 
 nothing tends more directly to confirm and strengthen it, than evi- 
 dence of the entire oneness and harmony of the Gospels. — Com. 
 Herald. 
 
 THE HAPPINESS OF THE BLESSED, considered 
 as to the particulars of their state ; their recognition of each 
 other in that state ; and its difference of degrees. To which 
 are added, Musings on the Church and her Services. By- 
 Richard Mant, D.D., M.R.I.A., Lord Bishop of Down and 
 Conner. 
 
 The design of the Rev. author in tliis production, is to adduce 
 from scriptiu-al authority, the most satisfactory evidence of the 
 happiness and joy of those who by faith follow Christ, and who in 
 the exercise of those virtues required by the Gospel, are emphati- 
 cally denominated the children of God. The author has touched 
 upon several topics connected with the subject, which must afford 
 much consolation to the Christian, who, from the very nature of his 
 organization, is liable to doubts and fearful forebodings as to the 
 state of his heart and the grounds of his faitli. 
 
 Christian hope, confidence, and charity, are stamped upon every 
 page, and the writer deserves avcII of the Christian inquirer, for tlie 
 industry which he has displayed in collecting andam-anging so many 
 impoi'tant and valuable arguments in favour of the glorious and 
 resplendent state of the faithful and humble disciple of Jesus. 
 
 In this world, mankind have need of consblation — of the cup of 
 sorrow -all must drink — 'happiness is a phantom, a meteor, beautiful 
 
4 VALUABLE WORKS 
 
 and bright, always alluring us by its glow — ^forever within om* 
 reach, but eternally eluding o\w grasp — ^but this state of things was 
 designed by our Creator for our benefit — it was intended to with- 
 draw our affections froni the shadowy and unsubstantial pleasures 
 of the world, to the Father of all in Heaven, and to prepare by dis- 
 cipline and zeal, for a state, beyond the grave, of felicit}-, which 
 eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither hath it entered into 
 the heart of man to conceive of. To oiu* readers we cheerfully 
 commend this delightful volume, confident that by its perusal the 
 faith of the doubtful will be confirmed, and the anticipative hope of 
 the confident increased. — 'Chnstiaii's JVLagazine. 
 
 We take tlie earliest opportunit)^ of introducing to our readers 
 this excellent little book, to which the deeply interesting nature of 
 the subject and the well-earned reputation of the Right Rev. author 
 ■will seciu'e no inconsiderable portion of attention. The Aast im- 
 portance of the topics herein treated, and the valuable practical 
 effects they may assist in producing, induce us to call thus early the 
 public attention to a work, small indeed in size, but which is calcu- 
 lated not a little to inform all candid and serious inquirers into a 
 subject hitlierto iuA'olved in much obscurity, but not a little elucida- 
 ted by the present author. — Ge?itleman's J\Iagazine. 
 
 All which are entitled to much commendation, as tending to 
 familiarize the young student with the exact phi-aseology of the 
 New Testament, and calculated to recall it, in an agreeable way, to 
 the memory of the more advanced scholar.^ — Lit. Gazette. 
 
 It possesses much substantive merit, and is the best Key to 
 Chi'onology of the Gospel History we have met with. — Athe?i3sum. 
 
 We have looked over, Avith great'pleasure, a neat little A'olume of 
 188 pages, just published by Key & Biddle, of this city, bearing 
 the title of "The Happiness of the Blessed." It is divided into 
 four chapters, and these chapters into sections — each section being 
 confined to the particular subject designated in it. We are much 
 pleased with the entire work — but more particularly Avith the dis- 
 cussion on the probability of the blessed recognizing each other in 
 the heavenly wo-rld. Cowper, the poet, we remember, reasons in a 
 couple of his letters most delightfully on the subject. 
 
 We cordially recommend this little work. Bishop Mant, the 
 author, has opened a spring in it, whence pure and wholesome 
 waters will long flow, to refresh and benefit tJie world. — Commer- 
 cial Herald. 
 
 The Happiness of the Blessed, by Dr. Mant, Bishop of Down and 
 Connor. Published by Key & Biddle. This woi-k is got up with 
 the usual elegance of those enterprising publishers. It is a work of 
 considerable metaphysical research ; is written in a style of anima- 
 ted piet}' ; and whether to the professing Christian or the general 
 reader, will readily repay a pei-usal. — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 LIFE OF WILLIAM COWPER, Esq. Compiled from 
 his correspondence and other authenticated sources of infor- 
 
PUBLISHED BY KEY AND BIDDLE. O 
 
 mation, containing- remarks on his writing-s, and on the pecu- 
 liarities of his interesting character, never before published. 
 By Thomas Taylor. 
 
 Extract from the Preface. 
 
 Many Lives of Cowpex'liave ah-eady been published. Why tlien, 
 it may be asked, add to their number ? Simply because in the 
 opinion of competent judges, no memoir of him bas yet appeared 
 tbat gives a full, fair, and unbiassed view of his cliaracter. 
 
 It is remarked by Dr. Johnson, the poet's kinsman, in liis preface 
 to the two volumes of Co wper's Private Correspondence, "that Mr. 
 Haley omitted the insertion of several interesting letters in his excel- 
 lent Life of the poet, out of kindness to his readers. " In doing this, 
 however amiable and considerate as his caution must appear, the 
 gloominess which he has taken from the mind of Cowper, has the 
 effect of involving his character in obscurit}'. 
 
 In alluding to these suppi-essed letters, the late highly esteemed 
 Leigh Richmond once emphatically remarked — " Cowper's chai-ac- 
 ter will never be clearly and satisfactorily understood without them, 
 and should be permitted to exist for the demonstration of the case. 
 I know the importance of it from numerous conversations I have 
 had, both in England and Scotland, on this subject. Persons of 
 truly religious principles, as well as those of little or no I'ellgion at 
 all, have greatly erred in their estimate of this great and good 
 man. " 
 
 In this work all that is necessary and much that is painful to 
 know, is told of Cowper, and well told too. — His life was much 
 wanted, and we have no doubt that it will be universally read, and 
 become, like the poems of tlie man it commemorates, a standard 
 work. Mr. Taylor has our heart}^ thanks for having produced this 
 work, and our commendations no less hearty for having produced it 
 so well. — JMetropolitan. 
 
 A beautiful American edition from the press of Key & Biddle 
 has just been published, and cannot fail to meet with a welcome 
 reception from all who admire that best of men and most agreeable 
 of poets. It is the most complete and valuable edition of the Life 
 of Cowper extant, and contains a well executed portrait. — Poidsoii's 
 Daily Advertiser. 
 
 Taylor's Life of Cowper has several private letters of the poet 
 not found in other works, which sei-ve to correct many false im- 
 pressions relative to his mental aberration. It is due the cause of 
 humanity and of justice generally, that the truth shovild be received ; 
 especially Avhen, by affecting the character of so great a man as 
 Cowper, it in a great measui-e touches the whole of the human kind. 
 — CT". S. Gazette. 
 
 The biography of this amiable, but eccentric individual, abounds 
 with circumstances of the deepest interest. The morbid sensibility 
 of his nature — tlie strong depression of spirits to which he Avas con- 
 
6 VALUABLE WORKS 
 
 tinually subject — ^the cheerless anticipation of gloom and misery, 
 which embittered almost a whole existence — conti'asted with the 
 hearty and (in some instances) exquisitely pleasant tenor of his wri- 
 tings — afford fruitful topics for speculation. CoM^ier was emi- 
 nently unhappy. Even while surrounded by every thing that covild 
 make life desirable — an ample competency ; troops of devoted 
 friends, vieing with each other in acts of kindness ; having, more- 
 over, a grasping, and comprehensive, and well cultivated intellect — 
 he was miserable and wretched, but he never suffered his infirmities 
 to destroy the natural good feelings of his bosom. This biography 
 is interesting, not merely on account of tlie clear view of Cowper's 
 character, which it exhibits, but also because it contains voluminous 
 extracts from his correspondence, many of which are now pub- 
 lished for the first time. Cowper's letters, besides the spirit of 
 fei'vent Christianity which every where pervades them, are models 
 of epistolary correspondence. Interspersed throughout the volume, 
 are several fragments of poetry, not printed in any collection of his 
 works, some ot which are well Avorthy the author of " The Task," 
 and the " Translation of Homer." The work now offered is neatly 
 bound, and sold at a low rate. — Saturday Courier. 
 
 A comprehensive and perspicuous memoir of Cowper has been 
 much wanted, and will be read with gratification by the admirers of 
 this amiable and pious man, whose accomplishments, excellencies 
 and peculiarit}' of character, have rendered him an object of interest 
 to the world. We are indebted to Mr. Taylor for his excellent 
 work, and for the happy manner in Avhich it has been accomplished. 
 — Boston Traveller. 
 
 Thirtj' years nearly have passed since we first read with great 
 delight ' Mayley's Life of Cowper, and we have never cast our eyes 
 on the volumes since, without wishing to unravel a few things in the 
 poet's history which were then left in mystery. Taylor professes 
 to deal openly and remove all concealment. In one beautiful vol- 
 ume, he has given us the substance of all which is known concerning 
 the most sensible and pious of all the English poets ; whose wri- 
 tings will be regarded as the best of their kind, wherever the English 
 language shall be read. In all his numerous works he has no line 
 of measured gingle Avithout sense. Can this be said of scarcely any 
 other child of the muses ? Those Avho have Hayley's tAvo volumes 
 Avill be thankful for the labours of Taylor 5 and those Avho have 
 neither should purchase this new compilation Avithout delay. It is 
 a Avork Avhich Avill be found ' interesting to all classes, especially to 
 the lovers of literature and genuine piet}"", and to place within the 
 reach of general readers, many of Avhom haAe neither the means 
 nor the leisure to consult larger Avorks, all that is really interesting 
 respecting that singularly afflicted individual, Avhose productions, 
 both poetic and prose, can neAer be read but Avith delight. — Tlie 
 Pldladelphian . 
 
 Messrs. Key & Biddle deserA-e credit for placing Avithin the 
 reach of all, in so cheap and conAenient a form, Avhat must be salu- 
 tary in every instance in its general eftect. The character, pursuits, 
 
PUBLISHED BY KEY AND BIDDLE. 7 
 
 performances, and sufferings of Cowper, combine more interest 
 than belongs to the life of any of the great English authors Avho 
 spent any considerable part of tlieir days in retirement. — 'JVational 
 Gazette. 
 
 THE TESTIMONY OF NATURE AND REVELA- 
 TION TO THE BEING, PERFECTIONS AND GOV- 
 ERNMENT OF GOD. By the Rev. Henry Fergus, 
 Dunfermline, Author of the History of the United States of 
 America, till the termination of the War of Independence, in 
 Lardner's Cyclopedia. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Fergus's Testimony of Nature and Revelation to 
 the Being, perfection and Government of God, is an attempt to do 
 in one volmne Avhat the Bridgwater Treatises are to do in eight. 
 We wish one-eighth of the reAvard may make its way to Dunferm- 
 line. Mr. Fergus's Treatise goes over tlie whole ground with 
 fervoiu' and ability ; it is an excellent volume, and may be had for 
 somewjiere about half the price of one Bridgwater octA\o.'— London 
 Spectator. 
 
 A work of great research and gi'cat talent. — EvangelicalJWxga- 
 zine. 
 
 A very seasonable and valuable work. Its philosophy is unim- 
 peachable and its theology pure and elevated.— JVety Jllbnthly j\fag. 
 
 This is an elegant and enlightened work, of a pious and highly 
 gifted man. — JMeiropoliian Jifagazme. 
 
 This excellent work contains, in a brief space, all that is likely 
 to be useful in the Bridgwater Treatises, and displays infinitely 
 more of original thought and patient research, than the two volumes 
 which have been recently published by the managers of his lord- 
 ship's legacy. We have never seen any work in which the necessity 
 of a revelation Avas more cleai'ly demonstrated, Avhilc at the same 
 time its due importance Avas assigned to natural religion. 
 
 We Iwpe that the Avork Avill be extensively used in the education 
 of youth ; it is admirably calculated to stimulate students to scien- 
 tific research, and the obserAations of nature ; it suggests subjects of 
 contemplation, by AA'hich the mind must be both delighted and 
 instructed ; and, finally, it teaches the most sublin^e of all lessons, 
 admiration of the poAver, delight in the wisdom, and gratitude for 
 the love of our Creator. — .Athemeimi. 
 
 FOX'S BOOK OF MARTYRS. A Universal History 
 of Christian Martyrdom, from the Birth of our Blessed Saviour 
 to the latest Periods of Persecution. Originally composed 
 by the Rev. John Fox, A. M., and now corrected throughout; 
 with copious and important additions relative to the Recent 
 u2 
 
8 VALUABLE WORKS 
 
 Persecutions in the south of France. In 2 vols. 8vo., beau- 
 tifully printed on fine and remarkably strong paper. Being 
 the only complete and unmutilated edition of this work ever 
 presented to the American Public. Embellished with a 
 Portrait of the venerable Fox, and Sixty Engravings illus- 
 trative of the suffering Martyrs in all ages of the world. 
 
 "We commend the enterprise of the publishers, which has 
 induced them to incur the hea^'y expense requisite for the produc- 
 tion of this costly and elegant book. They have thereby rendered 
 a service to the cause of true Christianity' ; and we cannot doubt that 
 they will meet with ample remuneration in the approbation of the 
 public. An additional recommendation is furnished in the extreme 
 lowness of the price, thereby rendering the book accessible to the 
 pocket of every class of Christians. It is a work of intense interest; 
 and Avhether as a volume of Ecclesiastical History, or for occasional 
 perusal, richly merits a place on tlie shelves of every family 
 library. " — Chnstian Advocate. 
 
 GUY ON ASTRONOMY, AND AN ABRIDGE- 
 MENT OF KEITH ON THE GLOBES, 2 volumes in 
 1, 18mo. 
 
 A school book of this soi't has long been a desideratum in our 
 seminaries. It comprises a popular Treatise on Astronomy ; 
 together with the admirably clear definitions, and nearly all the 
 problems of Keith. The whole is contained in a neat volume, and 
 afforded at a very low price. The publishers would particularly 
 call the attention of parents and teachers to the above work. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. In 1 vol. 
 12mo. By Thomas Hughs. Embellished with a great 
 number of beautiful wood-cut_s. 
 
 The publishers announce this woi'k with the highest feelings of 
 satisfaction. The three objects they have had in view are cheapness, 
 beaut)' of embellishment, and novelty of matter, combined Avith ac- 
 curacy of research. The name of the author (who is already 
 favoiu'ably known by several previous Avorks for schools) is a suffi- 
 cient guai'antee of the manner in which this book will be executed. 
 It Avill not be uninteresting to state that the sources from which 
 some of the materials of this school book are derived, are inacces- 
 sible to any except the present writer ; whose business it has also 
 been to attempt the attainment of that which has hitherto been over- 
 looked, as of no importance, viz : elegance of style, Avhich may in- 
 terest at the same time that it will aid in forming the taste of the 
 youtliful reacler. 
 
PUBLISHED BY KEY AND BIDDLE. 9 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF A FUTURE STATE. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF RELIGION. 
 
 CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHER. By Thomas Dick. 
 
 Philadelphia, Key & Biddle. 
 
 Ix the first of the works whose titles head this article, Mr. Dick 
 has endeavoured to prove, that man is an immortal being. His ar- 
 guments are drawn from various sources, and he has judiciously 
 availed himself of the recent discoveries in science, in illustrating 
 the connexion of intellectual improvement, witli the state of futm-e 
 existence. 
 
 Mr. Dick has displayed in this work, considerable extent of 
 knowledge, and the industiy manifested in collecting and arranging 
 his numerous and diversified materials, will meet with tlie decided 
 approbation of e\QVj intelligent Christian. 
 
 The Philosophy of Religion is a production of no less value tlian 
 the preceding, it is an attempt by tlie pious and indefatigable author, 
 to illustrate the moral being of the universe, and to delineate the 
 obligations of man to God — to show how reasonable and excellent 
 the precepts of revealed i^eligion are, and how well they are adapted 
 to the condition of man, how certainly their practical adoption is 
 productive of peace and joy, and how bright under all circumstances 
 are the hopes, and soothing the consolations of the Christian. It is 
 an excellent book, and may be read Avith advantage, by all sects of 
 Christians. 
 
 The Christian Philosopher, which next claims our attention, is to 
 the philosophic inquirer more interesting than either of the preced- 
 ing two. It is a scientific investigation into the existence a«d attri- 
 butes of a great Jirst cause, and the author has evidently come to 
 his subject well prepared, securely assured, and ready to give a 
 I'easonable answer to the sceptical questioner for the hope tliat is 
 within him. The author has successfully combatted the ridiculous 
 ideas of those zealous but ignorant Christians who reject all hiunan 
 knowledge as vain and useless. He has shown that the study and 
 contemplation of the laws of the natural world, elevate the mind 
 in its conceptions of the power, wisdom and goodness of God, and 
 that every advance in knowledge, every discovery in science, tends 
 to confirm our faith, exalt our views and refine our dispositions, and 
 thus improve us in moral and religious feelings and principles. 
 
 Mr. Dick very justly observes that "the man who would discard 
 the efforts of the human intellect, and the science of Nature from 
 Religion, forgets — that He who is the author of human redemption 
 is also the Creator and governor of tlie whole system of the material 
 universe — that it is one end of tliat moral renovation which the 
 Gospel effects, to qualify us for contemplating aright tlie displays of 
 Divine Perfection which the works of creation exhibit — that the 
 visible works of God are the principal medium by which he dis- 
 plaj^s the attributes of this nature to intelligent beings — that the 
 study and contemplation of these works employ the faculties of intel- 
 
10 VALUABLE WORKS 
 
 ligences of a siiperior ordei- — ^tliat man, had he remained in primeval 
 innocence, would have been chiefly employed in such contempla- 
 tions — that it is one main design of divine revelation to illustrate tlie 
 operations of Providence, and the agency of God in the formation 
 and preservation of all things — and that the scriptures are full of 
 sublime descriptions of the visible creation, and of interesting re- 
 ferences to the various objects which adorn the scenery of nature. 
 In these opinions Ave entirely concur, and we are certain that every 
 believer in the Gospel of Christ, will have his sovil expanded, his 
 energies awakened, and all his faculties and powers enlarged by in- 
 vestigating the laws of the Universe. God is every whei-e? we per- 
 ceive his wisdom in the organization of a man, and a tree 5 every 
 animal on earth, all objects in nature, organized or unorganized, 
 exhibit the power, the skill, and the benevolence of the Creator. 
 
 Mr. Dick's book contains many important facts in relation to the 
 laws of matter and motion, illustrated by familiar expositions, and 
 well adapted to the comprehension of the general reader. We have 
 rarely perused a work with more pleasure and profit, and we are 
 confident that it will prove a valuable and iiseful addition to evei-y 
 family library. To the young divine just commencing his ministe- 
 rial labours,' it will be of much benefit; it will supply him Avith 
 topics for exemplification, upon Avhich he can expatiate Avith the 
 fervour and eloquence of genius, and all the enthusiasm of a finer, 
 but rational and ardent Christian. 
 
 In dismissing these productions of Mr. Dick, we cordially com- 
 mend them to the attention of our readers. 
 
 LETTERS TO AN ANXIOUS INQUIRER, DE- 
 SIGNED TO RELIEVE THE DIFFICULTIES OF 
 A FRIEND UNDER SERIOUS IMPRESSIONS. By 
 T. Carlton Henry, D.D., late Pastor of the Second Pres- 
 bj'terian Church, Charleston, S. C. With an introductory 
 Essay, (in which is presented Dr. Henry's Preface to his 
 Letters, and his Life, by a friend.) By G. T. Bedell, D. D. 
 Rector of St. Andrew's Church, Philadelphia. 
 
 It is an important A'olume, and is an indispensable auxiliary to a 
 proper contemplation of the most impoi-tant of all subjects. The 
 ■work contains a A^ery judicious introductory essay, from the pen of 
 the liev. G. T. Beddl, rector of St. Andrew's Church, inthiscit}^ 
 ■ — Sat. Evening- Post. 
 
 In a revival of religion among his own people, Dr. Bedell found 
 this Avork useful, and Avas led to seek its republication in a cheap and 
 neat form, for the adA'antage of those Avho cannot afford to pur- 
 chase costly volumes. We hope the Avork may prove a blessing to 
 all Avho shall read it. — The Philadelphian. 
 
 These letters have been for many years highly A'alued for the 
 pi-actical and appropriate instruction for Avhich they are principally 
 designed. — The Presbyterian. 
 
PUBLISHED BY KEY AND BIDDLE. 11 
 
 BRIDGE'S ALGEBRA, 12mo. In this work the 
 
 hitherto abstract and difficult science of Algebra is simplified 
 
 and illustrated so as to be attainable by the younger class of 
 
 learners, and by those who have not the aid of a teacher. It 
 
 is already introduced into the University of Pennsylvania at 
 
 Philadelphia, and the Western University at Pittsburgh. 
 
 It is also the text book of Gummere's School at Burlington, 
 
 and of a great number of the best schools throughout the 
 
 United States. It is equally adapted to common schools and 
 
 colleges. 
 
 Messrs. Ket & Biddle have published, in a very neat form, tlie 
 1st American, from tlie 6th London Edition of Bridge's Algebra ; a 
 treatise, which, from a cursory examination, we think superior to 
 any of tlie text books now in use, for perspicuit}', simplicity of 
 method, and adaptation to the comprehension of learners. It con- 
 tains several chapters on Logarithms and the subjects connected 
 thereto, which, thoxigh interesting and important, are not usually 
 appended to works on the subject.' — Fredericksburg Political Arena. 
 
 The publishers take great pleasure in presenting the ac- 
 companying opinion of Professor Adrain, of the University 
 of Pennsylvania, who has intjoduced the work into that 
 Institution. 
 
 Umversity of Pennsylvania^ JMarch 30, 1833. 
 GENTiE3iETf , — ^In Compliance with youi* request, that I would give 
 you my opinion respecting your edition of Bridge's Algebra, I beg 
 leave to say, that tlie work appears to me to be well adapted to the 
 instruction of students. The arrangement of the several parts of the 
 science is judicious, and the examples are numerous and well 
 selected. 
 
 Yours, respectfully, 
 
 ROBERT ADRAIN. 
 
 Philadelphia, March 7th, 1833. 
 Bridge's Algebra is the text book in the school under my care ; 
 and I am better pleased with it than with any whicli I have hereto- 
 fore used. 
 
 The author is very clear in his explanations, and systematic in 
 his arrangement, and has succeeded in rendering a comparatively 
 abstruse branch of science, an agreeable and interesting exercise 
 both to pupil and teacher. 
 
 JOHN FROST. 
 
 NEW AMERICAN SPEAKER, being an entirely new 
 
12 VALUABLE WORKS. 
 
 selection of Speeches, Dialogues, and Poetry, for the use of 
 
 Schools. By Thomas Hughs, Compiler of the Universal 
 
 Class Book and the American Popular Reader. 
 
 A rich collection of pieces from some of the first Avriters in the 
 English language, furnishing a most abundant supply of exercises in 
 elocution and declamation. It should find admission into every 
 academy, college, and high school, where it is an object to form tlie 
 taste, as well as teach the art of speaking, 
 
 Amehicax Speaker. — A volume with this title, comprising up- 
 Avards of two hundred pages, has just been issued by Messrs. Key & 
 Biddle of this cit\^ It has been compiled by Thomas Hughs, Esq., 
 the compiler of the ' Universal Class Book' and the ' American 
 Popular Reader,' and is designed for the use of schools. It em- 
 braces a selection of speeches, dialogues and poetry, made up with 
 gi-eat discernment, we think, from tlie best authors, foreign and 
 domestic, ancient and modern, ]Mr, Hughs is well calculated to 
 render such a book valuable, and from the perusal we have given 
 many of the articles, Ave should suppose tliis ' Speaker' Avould soon 
 find a place in most of our public seminaries. 
 
 Among the American Avriters, Avhose productions have been intro- 
 duced into this volume, Ave observe Avith pleasure the names of Hop- 
 kinson, Brown, Canning, Payne, Webster, Everett, Ames, Clay, 
 Randolph, Halleck, Bryant, Adams, and otliers. We shall enrich 
 our first page with extracts from it in a day or tAvo, and take pleasure 
 in commending it to those having charge of our public and priA'ate 
 school s. — Pennsylvania Inqtdrer. 
 
 THE PROGRESSIVE EXPERIENCE OF THE 
 HEART UNDER THE DISCIPLINE OF THE 
 HOLY GHOST, FROM REGENERATION TO MA- 
 TURITY. By Mrs. Stevens. 
 
 This is a Avork Avhieh may be recommended to religious readers 
 and to serious inquirers, Avith great safety. It is Avritten in an 
 impressive style, and is evidently the production of a mind and heart 
 thoroughly imbued Avith Christian knoAvledge and experience. The 
 operations of the Holy Ghost upon the soul of man, are traced with 
 a discrimination Avhich nothing but a personal experience of his influ- 
 ences could have furnished. Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Re- 
 ligion in the Soul, is an admirable book on this subject, but Mrs. 
 Stevens's treatise deserves an honourable place at its side. Minis- 
 ters of the Gospel should consult the spiritual Avelfare of tlieir 
 people, by recommending and promoting the circulation of such 
 works. — Presbyterian. 
 
 YOUNG LADY'S SUNDAY BOOK. By the author 
 of the Young Lady's Own Book. 
 
IVEW WORKS 
 
 m PRESS, 
 
 BIT KEV AND BIDDLE 
 
 23 MINOR STREET. 
 
 THE HOME BOOK OF HEALTH AND MEDI- 
 CINE, being a popular treatise on the means of avoiding and 
 curing diseases, and of preserving the health and vigour of 
 the body to the latest period : including a full account of the 
 diseases of women and children. 
 
 THE YOUNG MAN'S SUNDAY BOOK; in continu- 
 ation of the series commenced by the Young Man's Own 
 Book. 
 
 THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN'S BOOK. By G. T. 
 Bedell, D.D. 
 
 THE FAMILY BOOK; a series of discourses, with 
 prayers for each Sunday evening in the year, with an Intro- 
 ductory Essay. By the Rev. John Breckenridge. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF DR. BURNEY, arranged from his own 
 manuscripts, from family papers, and from personal recollec- 
 tions. By his daughter, Madame D'Arblay. 
 
 The Monthly Review in noticing the Memoirs of Dr. Burney, ex- 
 presses the opinion " that a more amusing and profitable production 
 has 7iot appeared for many years.'''' 
 
 Several literary gentlemen on this side of the Atlantic Avho have 
 examined the work, declare that next to Boswell's Life of Johnson, 
 it is the most attractive and interesting memoir ever published. 
 
 TRANSATLANTIC SKETCHES, comprising visits 
 to the most interesting scenes in North and South America, 
 and the West Indies, with notes on negro slavery and Cana- 
 
14 NEW WORKS IN PRESS BY KEY AND BIDDLE. 
 
 dian emigration, by Capt. J. E. Alexander, 42d Royal 
 Highlanders, F.R.G.S., M.R.A.S., &c. author of Travels in 
 Asia, Persia, &c. 
 
 TODD'S JOHNSON'S DICTIONARY OF THE 
 ENGLISH LANGUAGE ; to which is added a copious 
 vocabulary of Greek, Latin and Scriptural proper names, 
 divided into syllables, and accentuated for pronunciation, by 
 Thomas Rees, L.L.D., F.R.S.A. The above Dictionary 
 will make a beautiful pocket volume, same size of the Young 
 Man's Own Book. 
 
 MIRIAM, OR THE POWER OF TRUTH; a Jewish 
 Tale, by the Author of " Influence." 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS SOUVENIR; A Christmas, New- 
 Year's and Birth-Day Present for 1834. Edited by G. T. 
 Bedell, D.D., illustrated with eight splendid steel engra- 
 vings from the first Artists. 
 
 ANATOMICAL AND PRACTICAL ILLUSTRA- 
 TIONS OF PULMONARY COMSUMPTION, and some 
 of its attendant diseases : with remarks on the pathology, 
 symptoms and treatment of Phthisis. Illustrated with 
 twelve engravings, drawn and coloured from nature, by 
 Samuel George Morton, M.D., Physician to the Philadel- 
 phia Aims-House Hospital, Lecturer on Anatomy, &c. &c. 
 
Princeton Theological Seminary Libraries 
 
 1 1012 01250 5469 
 

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