Oi vision...! SERMONS, PREACHED IN THE TRON CHURCH, (SlasfiToto, BY THOMAS CHALMERS, D.D. MINISTER OF THE TRON CHURCH, GLASGOW. GLASGOW PRINTED. NEW-YORK, REPRINTED, rOR KIRK St MERCEIN, NO. 22 WALL-STREET, •\ William A. Merceio, Priaterv 1319. THE MEMBERS OF THE TRON CHURCH CONGREGATION, GLASGOW, THE FOLLOWING SERMONS ARE INSCRIBED, WITH A LIVELY FEELING ON THE PART OF THEIR AUTHOR. OF ALL THE KlNDNEiS AND GOOD WILL WHICH HE HAS EXPERIENCED, DURING THE TIME OF HIS CONNEXION WITH THEM, AND WITH EVERY ASSURANCE OF HIS AFFECTIONATE DESIRE FOR THEIR BEST INTERESTS. PREFACE. The doctrine which is most urgently, and most frequently insisted on in the following volume, is that of the depravity of human nature, and it were certainly cruel to expose the unworthi> ness of man for the single object of disturbing him. But the cruelty is turned into kindness, when, along with the knowledge of the disease, there is offered an adequate and all-powerful remedy. It is impossible to have a true per- ception of our own character, in the sight of God, without feeling our need of acquittal; and in opposition to every obstacle, which the VI PREFACE. justice oi God seems to hold out to it, this want is provided for in the Gospel. And it is equal- ly impossible, to have a true perception of the character of God, as being utterly repugnant to sin, without feehng the need of amendment; and in opposition to every obstacle, which the impotency of man holds out to it, this want is also provided for in the Gospel. There we behold the amplest securities for the peace of the guilty. But there do we also behold secu- rities equally ample for their progress, and their perfection in holiness. Insomuch, that in every genuine disciple of the New Testa- ment, we not only see one who, delivered from the burden of his fears, rejoices in hope of a coming glory — but we see one who, set free from the bondage of corruption, and animated by a new love and a new desire, is honest in the purposes, and strenuous in the efforts, and abundant in the works of obedience. He feels PREFACE. Vll the instigations of sin, and in this respect he differs from an angel. But he follows not the instigations of sin, and in this respect he dif- fers from a natural or unconverted man. He may experience the motions of the flesh — but he walks not after the flesh. So that in him we may view the picture of a man, struggling with effect against his earth-born propensities, and yet hateful to himself for the very exist- ence of them — holier than any of the people around him, and yet humbler than them all — realizing, from time to time, a positive increase to the grace and excellency of his character, and yet becoming more tenderly conscious every day of its remaining deformities — gradu- ally expanding in attainment, as well as in desire, towards the light and the liberty of heaven, and yet groaning under a yoke from which death alone will fully emancipate him. Vlll PREFACE. When time and space have restrained an author of sermons from entering on what may be called the ethics of Christianity — it is the more incumbent on him to avouch of the doc- trine of the gospel, that while it provides di- rectly for the peace of a sinner, it provides no less directly and efficiently for the purity of his practice — that faith in this doctrine never terminates in itself, but is a mean to holiness as an end — and that he who truly accepts of Christ, as the alone foundation of his merito- rious acceptance before God, is stimulated, by the circumstances of his new condition, to breathe holy purposes, and to abound in holy performances. He is created anew unto good works. He is made the workmanship of God m Christ .Tesus. The anxious enforcement of one great les- son on the part of a writer, generally proceeds PREFACE. IX from the desire to effect a full and adequate conveyance, into the mind of another, of some truth which has filled his own mind, by a sense of its importance; and, in offering this volume to the public, the author is far from being in- sensible to the literary defects that from this cause may be charged upon it. He knows, in particular, that throughout these discourses there is a frequent recurrence of the same idea, though generally expressed in different lan- guage, and with some new speciahty, either in its bearing or in its illustration. And he further knows, that the habit of expatiating on one topic may be indulged to such a length, as to satiate the reader, and that, to a degree, far beyond the limits of his forbearance. And yet, if a writer be conscious that, to gain a reception for his favourite doctrine, he must combat with certain elements of op- T)osition, in the taste, or the pride, or the indo 1^ PREFACE. lence, of those whom he is addressing, this will only serve to make him the more importu- nate, and so to betray him still farther into the fault of redundancy. If the lesson he is urging be of an intellectual character, he will labour to bring it home, as nearly as possi- ble, to the understanding. If it be a moral lesson, he will labour to bring it home, as near- ly as possible, to the heart. It is difficult, and it were hard to say in how far it would be right, to restrain this propensity in the pulpit, where the high matters of salvation are addressed to a multitude of individuals, who bring before the minister every possible variety of taste and of capacity; and it is no less difficult, when the compositions of the pulpit are transferred to the press, to detach from them a peculiarity by which their whole texture may be pervaded, and thus to free them from what may be counted by many to PREFACE. XI be the blemish of a very great and character- istic deformity. There is, however, a difference between such truths as are merely of a speculative nature, and such as are allied with practice and moral feeling; and much ought to be con- ceded to this difference. With the former, all repetition may often be superfluous ; with the latter, it may just be by earnest repetition, that their influence comes to be thoroughly established over the mind of an inquirer. And if so much as one individual be gained over in this way to the cause of righteousness, he is untrue to the spirit and to the obliga- tions of his office, who would not, for the sake of this one, wiUingly hazard all the rewards, and all the honours of literary estimation. And, if there be one truth which, more than another, should be habitually presented to xii PREFA^i the notice, and proposed to the conviction of fallen creatures, it is the humbling truth of their own depravity. This is a truth which may be recognised and read in every exhibi- tion of unrenewed nature; but it often lurks under a specious disguise, and it is surely of the utmost practical importance to unveil and elicit a principle, which, when admitted into the heart, may be considered as the great basis of a sinner's relisrion. CONTENTS^ SERMON I. THJE NECESSITY OF THE SPIRIT TO GIVE EFFECT TO THE PREACHING OF THE GOSPEL. '■^ And my speech, and my preaching, was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power ; that your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God." — 1 CoR. ii. 4, 5. - - - - 9 SERMON II. THE MYSTERIOUS ASPECT OF THE GOSPEL TO THE MEN OF THE WORLD. " Then said I, Ah, Lord God ! they say of me, Doth he not speak parables?"— EzEK. XX. 49. - - - - 4e %IV CONTENTS. SERMON III. THE PREPARATION NECESSARY FOR UNDERSTANDING THE MYSTERIES OF THE GOSPEL. " He answered and said unto them, Because it is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given. For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance; but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even thathehath."—MATTH.xiii. 11,12. - - - - 64 SERMON IV. AN ESTIMATE OF THE MORALITY THAT IS WITHOUT GODLI- NESS. " If I wash myself with snow water, and make my hands never so clean ; yet shalt thou plunge me in the ditch, and mine own clothes shall abhor me. For he is not a man, as I am, that I should answer him, and we should come together in judgment. Neither is there any day's-man betwixt us, that might lay his hand upon us both."— JOB ix. 30—33. 87 SERMON V. THE JUDGMENT OF MEN COMPARED WITH THE JUDGMENT OF GOD. ^* With me it is a very small thing that I should be judged of you, or of man's judgment; — he that judgeth me is the Lord."— 1 Cor. iv. 3, 4. 107 SERMON VI. THB NECESSITY OF A MEDIATOR BETWEEN GOD AND MAN. " Neither is there any day's-man betwixt us, that might lay his hand upon us both." — job ix. 38. - - - - ISS CONTENTS. XV SERMON VII. tHE FOLLY OF MEN MEASURING THEMSELVES BY THEM- SELVES. " For we dare not make ourselves of the number, or com- pare ourselves with some that commend themselves: but they, measuring themselves by themselves, and com- paring themselves among themselves, are not wise."— 2 Cor. X. 12. 148 SERMON VIII. CHRIST THE WISDOM OF GOD. « Christ the wisdom of God."— 1 Cor. i. 24. - - - 174 SERMON IX. THE PRINCIPLES OF LOVE. •'* Keep yourselves in the love of God."— Jude 21. - 19fi SERMON X. ftRATlTHDF NOT A SORDID AFFECTION. " We love him, because he first loved us."— 1 John iv. 19. SI 7 SERMON XL THE AFFECTION OF MORAL ESTEEM TOWARDS GOD. " One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after ; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple."— Psalm xxvii. 4. - - - 249 SERMON XIL THE EMPTINESS OF NATURAL VIRTUE. " But I know you, that ye have not the love of God in you,'*— John V. 42. - - 279 XVI CONTENTS. SERMON XIII. i THE NATURAL ENMITY OF THE MIND AGAINST GOD. " The carnal mind is enmity against God." — Rom. viii. 7. SIS SERMON XIV. THE POWER OF THE GOSPEL TO DISSOLVE THE ENMITY OF THE HUMAN HEART AGAINST GOD. *' Having slain the enmity thereby." — Ephes. ii. 16. - S34 SERMON XV. THE EVILS OF FALSE SECURITY. " They have healed also the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly, saying, Peace, peace; when there is no peace."— Jer. vi. 14 - - - - - - - S52 SERMON XVI. THE UNION OF TRUTH AIND MERCY IN THE GOSPEL. "Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other." — Psalm Ixxxv. lO. - 377 SERMON XVII. THE PURIFYING INFLUENCE OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH. "Sanctifiedby faith."— Acts xxvi. 18. - „ . 394 SERMON I. THE NECESSITY OP THE SPIRIT TO GIVE EFFECT TO THE PREiVCHING OF THE GOSPEL. 1 Corinthians, ii. 4, 5. '* And my speech, and my preaching, was not with en- ticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power : that your faith should not stand in the wisdom of man, but in the power of God." Paul, in his second epistle to the Corinthians, has expressed himself to the same effect as in the text, in the following words : " Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves; hut our sufficiency is of God; who also hath made us ahle ministers of the New Testament; not of the letter, but of the Spirit." In both these passages, the Apostle points to a speciality in the work of a Christian teacher, — a something essential to its success, and which is not essential to the proficiency of scho- lars in the ordinary branches of education, — an influence that is beyond the reach of human power and human wisdom; and to obtain which, immediate recourse must be had, in the way of prayer and dependence, to the power of God. 2 10 SERMON I. Without attempting a full exposition of these^ different verses, we shall, first, endeavour to di- rect your attention to that part of the work of a Christian teacher, which it has in common with any other kind of education; and, secondly, offer a few remarks on the speciality that is adverted to in the text. I. And here it must be admitted, that, even in the ordinary branches of human learning, the success of the teacher, on the one hand, and the proficiency of the scholars on the other, are still dependent on the will of God. It is true, that, in this case, we are not so ready to feel our dependence. God is apt to be overlooked in all those cases where he acts with unifor- mity. Wherever we see, what we call, the operation of a law of nature, we are apt to ^ shut our eye against the operation of his hand, and faith in the constancy of this law, is sure to beget, in the mind, a sentiment of independ- ence on the power and will of the Deity. Now, in the matters of human education, God acts with uniformity. Let there be zeal and ability on the part of the teacher, and an ordinary degree of aptitude on the part of the taught, — and the result of their vigorous and well sus- tained co-operation may in general be counted upon. Let the parent, who witnesses his son's capacity, and his generous ambition for im- provement, send him to a well-qualified in- SERMON I. U stiuctor, and he will be filled with the hope- fiil sentiment of his future eminence, without any reference to God whatever,— without so much as ever thinking of his purpose or of his agency in the matter, or its once occur- ring to him to make the proficiency of his son the subject of prayer. This is the way in which nature, by the constancy of her opera- tions, is made to usurp the place of God: and it goes far to spread, and to establish the de- lusion, when we attend to the obvious fact, that a man of the most splendid genius may be des- titute of piety ; that he may fill the office of an instructor with the greatest talent and success, and yet be without reverence for God, and practically disown him ; and that thousands of our youth may issue every year warm from the schools of Philosophy, stored with all her les- sons, and adorned with all her accomplish- ments, and yet be utter strangers to the power of godliness, and be filled with an utter dis- taste and antipathy for its name. All this helps on the practical conviction, that common education is a business, with which prayer and the exercise of dependence on God, have no concern. It is true that a Christian parent will see through the vanity of this delusion. Instructed to make his requests known unto God in all things, he will not depose him from the supremacy of his power and of his govern- ment over thisone thing,— he will commit toGod 12 SERMON I. the progress of his son in every one branch of education he may put him to, — and, knowing that the talent of every teacher, and the con- tinuance of his zeal, and his powers of commu- nication, and his faculty of interesting the at^ tention of his pupils, — that all these are the gifts of God, and may be withdrawn by him at pleasure, — he will not suffer the regular march and movement of what is visible or created to cast him out of his dependence on the Creator. He will see that every one element which enters into the business of education, and con- spires to the result of an accomplished and a well-informed scholar is in the hand of the Deity, and he will pray for the continuation of these elements, — and while science is raising her wondrous monuments, and drawing the admiration of the world after her, — it remains to be seen, on the day of the revelation of hid- den things, whether the prayers of the humble and derided Christian, for a blessing on those to whom he has confided the object of his ten- derness, have not sustained the vigour and the brilliancy of those very talents on which the w^orld is lavishing the idolatry of her praise. Let us now conceive the very ablest of these teachers, to bring all his powers and all his ac- complishments, to bear on the subjectof Christi- anity. Has he skill in the languages ? The very same process by w^hich he gets at the meaning of any ancient author, carries him to a fair SERMON L 13 and a faithful rendering of the scriptures of the Old and New Testament. Has he a mind enlightened and exercised on questions of erudition ? The very same principles which qualify him to decide on the genuineness of any old publication, enable him to demonstrate the genuineness of the Bible, and how fully sustained it is on the evidence of history. Has he that sagacity and comprehension of ta- lent, by which he can seize on the leading principles which run through the writings of some eminent philosopher ? This very exercise may be gone through on the writings of Inspir- ation; and the man, who, with the works of Aristotle before him, can present the world with the best system or summary of his prin- ciples, might transfer these very powers to the works of the Apostles and Evangelists, and pre- sent the world with a just and interesting survey of the doctrines of our faith. And thus it is, that the man who might stand the highest of his fellows in the field of ordinary scholar- ship, might turn his entire mind to the field of Christianity ; and by the very same kind of ta- lent, which would have made him the most eminent of all the philosophers, he might come to be counted the most eminent of all the the- ologians ; and he who could have reared to his fame some monument of literary genius, might now, by the labours of his midnight oil, rear some beauteous and consistent fabric of ortho- 14 SERMON I. doxy, strengthened, in all its parts, by one un- broken chain of reasoning, and recommended throughout by the powers of a persuasive and captivating eloquence. So much for the talents which a Christian teacher may employ, in common wdth other teachers, and even though they did make up all the qualifications necessary for his office, there would still be a call, as we said before, for the exercise of dependence upon God. Well do we know, that both he and his hearers would be apt to put their faith in the uniformity of nature ; and forgetting that it is the inspiration of the Almighty which giveth and preserveth the understanding of all his creatures, might be tempted to repose that confidence in man, which displaces God from the sovereignty that belongs to him. But what we wish to pre- pare you for, by the preceding observations, is. that you may understand the altogether pecu- liar call, that there is for dependence on God in the case of a Christian teacher. We have made a short enumeration of those talents which a teacher ofChristianity might possess, in common with other teachers ; but it is for the purpose of proving that he might possess them all, and heightened to such a degree, if you will, as would have made him illustrious on any other field, and yet be utterly destitute of powers for acquiring himself, or of experience for teach- ing others, that knowledge of God and of Jesus Christ which is life everlasting. y SERMON I. i.'^ With the many brilliant and imposing things which he may have, there is one thing which he may not have, and the want of that one thing may form an invincible barrier to his use- fulness in the vineyard of Christ, f f, conscious that he wants it, he seek to obtain from God the sufficiency which is not in himself, then he is in a likely way of being put in possession of that power, which alone is mighty to the pull- ing down of strong holds. But if he, on the one hand, proudly conceiving the sufficiency to be in himself, enters with aspiring confidence into the field of argument, and think that he is to carry all before him, by a series of invincible demonstrations ; or, if his people, on the other hand, ever ready to be set in motion by the idle impulse of novelty, or to be seduced by the glare of human accomplishments, come in trooping Hmltitudes around him, and hang on the elo- quence of his lips, or the wisdom of his able and profound understanding, a more unchristian at- titude cannot be conceived, nor shall we ven- ture to compute the weekly accumulation of guilt which may come upon the parties, when such a business as this is going on. How little must the presence of God be felt in that place where the high functions of the pulpit are degrad- ed into a stipulated exchange of entertainment on the one side, and of admiration on the other ; and surely it were a sight to make angels weep when a weak and vapouring mortal, surround- 16 SERMON 1. ed by his fellow sinners, and hastening to the grave and the judgment along with them, finds it a dearer object to his bosom, to regale his hearers by the exhibition of himself, than to do in plain earnest the w^ork of his Master, and urge on the business of repentance and of faith by the impressive simplicities of the Gospel. II. This brings us to the second head of discourse, under which we shall attempt to give you a clear view of what that is which con- stitutes a speciality in the work of a Christian teacher. And to carry you at once by a few plain instances to the matter we are aiming to impress upon you, let us suppose a man to take up his Bible, and, with the same powers of at- tention and understanding which enable him to comprehend the subject of any other book, there is much in this book also which he will be able to perceive and to talk of intelligently* Thus, for example, he may come, by the mere exercise of his ordinary powers, to understand, that it is the Holy Spirit which taketh of the things of Christ and showeth them to the mind of man. But is not his understanding of this truth, as it is put down in the plain lan- guage of the New Testament, a very different thing from the Holy Spirit actually taking of these things and showing them unto him.^ Again, he will be able to say, and to annex a plain meaning to what he says, that man is res- cued from his natural darkness about the things SERMON I. 17 of God, by God who created the light out of darkness shining in his heart, and giving him the light of the knowledge of his glory in the face of Jesus Christ. But is not his saying this, and understanding this, by taking up these words in the same obvious way in which any man of plain and honest understanding would do, a very different thing from God actually putting forth his creative energy upon him, and actually shining upon his heart, and giv- ing him that light and that knowledge which are expressed in the passage here alluded to ? Again, by the very same exercise wherewith he renders the sentence of an old author into his own language, and perceives the meaning of that sentence, will he annex a meaning to the following sentence of the Bible—" the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him ; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." By the mere dint of that shrewd- ness and sagacity with which nature has en- dowed him, he will perceive a meaning here which you will readily acknowledge could not be perceived by a man in a state of idiotism. In the case of the idiot, there is a complete barrier against his ever acquiring that con- ception of the meaning of this passage, which is quite competent to a man of a strong and accomplished understanding. For the sake of illustration, we may conceive this poor out- 3 la SERMOJ^^ L cast from the common light of humanity, in some unaccountable fit of attention, listening to the sound of these words, and making some strenuous but abortive attempts to arrive at the same comprehension of them with a man whose reason is entire. But he cannot shake off the fetters which the hand of nature has laid upon his understanding; and he goes back again to the dimness and delirium of his un- happy situation ; and his mind locks itself up in the prison-hold of its confined and darkened fa- culties ; and if, in his mysterious state of exist- ence, he formed any conception whatever of the words now uttered in your hearing, we may rest assured that it stands distinguished by a wide and impassable chasm, from the concep- tion of him, who has all the common powers and perceptions of the species. Now, we would ask what kind of conception is that which a man of entire faculties may form.^ Only grant us the undeniable truth, that he may understand how he cannot discern the things of the Spirit, unless the Spirit reveal them to him ; and yet with this understanding, he may not be one of those in behalf of whom the Spirit hath actually interposed with his peculiar office of revelation ; and then you bring into view another barrier, no less insurmountable than that which fixes an immutable distinction be- tween the conceptions of an idiot and of a man of sense. — even that wonderful barrier which SERMON I. 19 separates the natural from the spiritual man. You can conceive him struggling with every power which Jiature has given him to work his way through this barrier. You can con- ceive him vainly attempting, by some energies of his own, to force an entrance into that field of light where every object of faith has the bright colouring of reality thrown over it, — where he can command a clear view of the things of eternity, — where spiritual truth comes home with effect upon his every feeling and his every conviction, — where he can expatiate at freedom over a scene of manifestation, which the world knoweth not, — and breathe such a peace, and such a joy, and such a holiness, and such a superiority to time, and such a de- votedness of all his affections to the things which are above, as no man of the highest na- tural wisdom can ever reach, with all his atten- tion to the Bible, and all the efforts of hig sagacity, however painful, to unravel, and to compare, and to comprehend its passages. And it is indeed a deeply interesting object to see a man of powerful understanding thus visit- ted withan earnest desire after the light of the gospel, and toiling at the entrance with all the energies which belong to him, — pressing into the service all the resources of argument and philosophy, — mustering, to the high enter- prise, his attention, and his conception, and his reason, and his imagination, and the whole 20 SERMON I. host of his other faculties, on which science ha? conferred her imposing names, and laid before us in such a pompous catalogue, as might tempt us to believe, that man, by one mighty grasp of his creative mind, can make all truth his own, and range at pleasure Over the wide variety of her dominions. How natural to think that the same powers and habits of investigation which carried him to so respectable a height in the natural sciences will enable him to clear his w^ay through all the darknesses of theology. It is well that he is seeking, — for if he persevere and be in earnest, he will obtain an interest in the promise, and will at length find : — but not till he find, in the progress of those in- quiries on which he entered with so much alacrity, and prosecuted with so much confi- dence, that there is a barrier between him and the spiritual discernment of his Bible, which all the powers of philosophy cannot scale, — not till he find, that he must cast down his lofty imaginations, and put the pride of all his powers and all his pretensions away from him, — not till he find, that divested of those fancies which deluded his heart into a feeling of its own sufficiency, he must become like a little child, or one of those babes to whom God re- veals the things which he hides from the wise and from the prudent, — not till he find, that the attitude of self dependence must be bro- ken down, and he be brought to acknowledge SERMON I. 2] that the light he is aspiring after, is not cre- ated by himself, but must be made to shine upon him at the pleasure of another, — not in short, till humbled by the mortifying experience that many a simple cottager who reads his Bible and loves his Saviour has got before him, he puts himself on a level with the most illiterate of them all, and prays that light and truth may beam on his darkened understand- ing from the sanctuary of God. We read of the letter, and we read also of the spirit, of the New Testament. It would re- quire a volume, rather than a single paragraph of a single sermon, to draw the line between the one and the other. But you will readily ac- knowledge that there are many things of this book which a man, though untaught by the Spi- rit of God, may be made to know. One of the simplest instances is, he may learn the number of chapters in every book, and the number of verses in every chapter. But is this all? No, — for by the natural exercise of his memory he may be able to master all its historical information. And is this all ? No, — for by the natural exer- cise of his judgment he may compare scripture with scripture, — he may learn wliat its doctrines are,— he may demonstrate the orthodoxy of every one article in our national confession, — he may rank among the ablest and most judicious of the commentators, — he may read, and with understanding too, many a ponderous volume, ^ 22 SERMON I. — he may store himself with the learning of many generations, — he may be familiar with all the systems, and have mingled with all the con- troversies, — and yet, with a mind supporting as it does the burden of the erudition of whole li- braries, he may have gotten to himself no other wisdom than the wisdom of the letter of the New Testament. The man's creed, with all its arranged and its well weighed articles, may be no better than the dry bones in the vision of Ezekiel, put together into a skeleton, and fast- ened with sinews, and covered with flesh and skin, and exhibiting to the eye of the spectators, the aspect, and the lineaments of a man, but without breath, and remaining so, till the Spirit of God breathed into it, and it lived. And it is in truth a sight of wonder, to behold a man who has carried his knowledge of Scripture as far as the wisdom of man can carry it, — to see him blest with all the light w hich nature can give,butlabouring under all the darkness which no power of nature can dispel, — to see this man of many accomplishments, who can bring his every power of demonstration to bear upon the Bible, carryhig in his bosom a heart un- cheered by any one of its consolations, unmov- ed by the influence of any one of its truths, un- shaken out of any one attachment to the world, and an utter stranger to those high resolves, and the power of those great and animating prospects, which shed, a glory over the daily SERMON 1. 23 walk of a believer, and give to every one of his doings the high character of a candidate for eternity. We are quite aware of the doubts which this is calculated to excite in the mind of the hearer, — nor is it possible within the compass of an hour to stop and satisfy them all ; or to come to a timely conclusion, without leaving a number of unresolved questions behind us. There is one, however, which we cannot pass without observation. Does not this doctrine of a revelation of the Spirit, it may be asked, additional to the revelation of the w^ord, open a door to the most unbridled variety ? May it not give a sanction to any conceptions of any vision- ary pretenders, and clothe in all the authority of inspiration, a set of doctrines not to be found with- in the compass of the written record? Doesitnot set aside the usefulness of the Bible, and break in upon the unity and consistency of revealed truth, by letting loose upon the world a succession of fancies, as endless and as variable as are the caprices of the human imagination? All very true, did we ever pretend that the office of the Spi- rit was to reveal any thing additional to the in- formation, whether in the way of doctrine or of duty, which the Bible sets before us. But his office, as defined by the Bible itself, is not to make known to us any truths which are not contained in the Bible ; but to make clear to our understandings the truths which are con- 24 SERMON 1. tained in it. He opens our understandings to understand the Scriptures. The word ot God is called the sword of the Spirit. It is the instrument by which the Spirit worketh. He does not tell us any thing that is out of the record ; but all that is within it he sends home, with clearness and effect, upon the mind. He does not make us wise above that which is written ; but he makes us wise, up to that which is written. When a telescope is directed to some distant landscape, it enables us to see what we could not otherwise have seen ; but does it not enable us to see any thing which has not a real ex- istence in the prospect before us. It does not present to the eye any delusive imagery,— rnei- ther is that a fanciful and fictitious scene which it throws open to our contemplation. The na- tural eye saw nothing but blue land stretching along the distant horizon. By the aid of the glass, there bursts upon it a charming variety of fields, and woods, and spires, and villages. Yet who would say that the glass added one feature to this assemblage ? It discovers no- thing to us which is not there ; nor, out of that portion of the book of nature which we are em- ployed in contemplating, does it bring into view a single character which is not really and pre- viously inscribed upon it. And so of the Spirit. He does not add a single truth, or a single cha- racter, to the book of revelation. He enables the spiritual man to see what the natural man SERMON I. 25 cannot s6e ; but the spectacle which he lays open is uniform and immutable. It is the word of God, which is ever the same ; — and he, whom the Spirit of God has enabled to look to the Bi- ble with a clear and affecting discernment, sees no phantom passing before him; but, amid all the visionary extravagance with which he is charged, can, for every one article of his faith, and every one duty of his practice, make his tri- umphant appeal to the law and to the testimony. We trust that this may be made clear by one example. We have not to travel out of the re- cord for the purpose of having this truth made known to us, — that God is every where present. It meets^ the observation of the natural man in his reading of the Bible ; and he understands, or thinks he understands, the terms in which it is delivered ; and he can speak of it with con- sistency ; and he ranks it with the other attri- butes of God ; and he gives it an avowed and a formal admission among the articles of his creed ; and yet, with all this parade of light and of knowledge, he, upon the subject of the all-see- ing and the ever-present Deity, labours under all the obstinacy of an habitual bhndness. Car- ry him abroad, and you will find that the light which beams upon his senses, from the objects of sight, completely overpowers that light which ought to beam upon his spirit, from this object of faith. He may occasionally think of it as he does of other things ; but for every one 4 50 SERMON L practical purpose the thought abandons him, so soon as he goes into the next company, or takes a part in the next worldly concern, which, in the course of his business comes round to him. It completely disappears as an element of con- duct, and he talks, and thinks, and reasons, just as he would have done, had his mind, in refer- ence to God, been in a state of entire darkness. If any thing like a right conception of the mat- ter ever exist in his heart, the din and the day -light of the world drive it all away from him. Now, to rectify this case, it is surely not necessary, that the Spirit add any thing to the truth of God's omnipresence, as it is put down in the written record. It will be enough, that he gives to the mind upon which he operates, a steady and enduring impression of this truth. Now, this is one part of his office, and accord- ingly it is said of the unction of the- Spirit, that it is an unction which remaineth. Neither is it necessary that the light, which he communi- cates, should consist in any vision which he gives to the eye, or in any bright impression upon the fancy, of any one thing not to be found within the pages of the Bible. It will be enough if he give a clear and vigorous apprehension of the truth, just as it is writ- ten, to the understanding. Though the Spirit should do no more than give vivacity and effect to the truth of the constancy of God's presence, just as it stands in the written record — this will SERMON 1. - 27 be quite enough to make the man who is under its influence carry an habitual sense of God about with him, think of him in the shop and in the market-place, walk with him all the day Jong, and feel the same moral restraint upon his doings, as if some visible superior, whose virtues he revered, and whose approbation he longed after, haunted his every footstep, and kept an attentive eye fastened upon the whole course of his history. The natural man may have sense, and he may have sagacity, and a readiness withal to admit the constancy of God's presence, as an undeniable doctrine of the Bible. But to the power of this truth he is dead ; and it is only to the power of this world's interests and pleasures that he is alive. The spiritual man is the reverse of all this, and that without carrying his conceptions a single hair breadth beyond the communications of the written message. He makes no pretensions to wisdom by one jot or one tittle beyond the tes- timony of Scripture, and yet, after ail, he lives under a revelation to which the other is a stranger. It does not carry him by a single footstep without the field of the written revela- tion, but it throws a radiance over every object within it. It furnishes him with a constant light which enables him to withstand the do- mineering influence of sight and,of sen^e. He dies unto the world, he lives unto God,— and the reason is, that there rests upon him a pe- 28 SERiMON 1. culiar manifestation, by which the truth is made visible to the eye of his mind, and a peculiar energy, by which it comes home upon his con- science. And if you come to inquire into the cause of this speciality, it is the language of the Bible, confirmed, as we believe it to be, by the soundest experience, that every power which nature has conferred upon man, exalted to its highest measure, and called forth to its most strenuous exercise, is not able to accomplish it, — that it is due to a power above nature, and beyond it; that it is due to what the Apostle calls the demonstration of the Spirit,— a de- monstration withheld from the self-sufficient exertions of man, and given to his believing prayers. And here we are reminded of an instructive passage in the life of one of our earliest and most eminent reformers. When the light of divine truth broke in upon his heart, it was so new and so delightful to one formerly darkened by the errors of popery, — he saw such a power and such an evidence along with it, — he was so ravished by its beauties, and so carried along by its resistless arguments, that he felt as if he had nothing to do, but to brandish those mighty weapons, that he might gain all hearts and car- ry every thing before him. But he did not calculate on the stubborn resistance of corrupt human nature, to him and to his reasonings. lie preached, and he argued, and he put forth SERMON I. 29 all his powers of eloquence amongst them. But mortified that so many hearts remained har- dened, that so many hearers resisted him, that the doors of so many hearts were kept shut in spite of all his loud and repeated warnings, that „ so many souls remained unsubdued, and dead in trespasses and sins, he was heard to ex- claim, that old Adam was too strong for young Melancthon. There is the malignity of the fall which, ad- heres to us. There is a power of corruption and of blindness along with it, which it is be- yond the compass of human means to over- throw. There is a dark and settled depravity in the human character, which maintains its gloomy and obstinate resistance to all our warn- ings and all our arguments. There is a spirit working in the children of disobedience which no power of human eloquence can lay. There is a covering of thick darkness upon the face of all people, a mighty influence abroad upon the world, with which the Prince of the power of the air keeps his thousands and his tens of thousands under him. The minister who enters into this field of conflict may have zeal, and talents, and eloquence. His heart may be smitten with the love of the truth, and his mind be fully fraught with its arguments. Thus armed, he may come forth among his people, flushed with the mighty enterprise of turning souls from the dominion of Satan unto God. In all the hope of victory 30 SERMON I. he may discharge the weapons of his warfare among them. Week after week, he may reason with them out of the Scriptures. Sabbath after Sabbath, he may declaim, he may demonstrate, he may put forth every expedient, he may at one time set in array before them the terrors of the law, at another he may try to win them by the free offer of the Gospel ; and, in the proud confidence of success, he may think that nothing can withstand him, and that the heart of every hearer must give way before the ar- dour of his zeal and the power of his invin- cible arguments. Yes; they may admire himy and they may follow him, but the question we have to ask is, will they be converted by him ? They may even go so far as to allow that it is all very true he says. He may be their fa- vourite preacher, and when he opens his ex- hortations upon them, there may be a deep and a solemn attention in every countenance. But how is the heart coming on all the while ? How do these people live, and what evidence are they giving of being born again under the power of his ministry? It is not enough to be told of those momentary convictions which flash from the pulpit, and carry a thrilling in- fluence along with them through the hearts of listening admirers. Have these hearers of the word, become the doers of the word ? Have they sunk down into the character of humble, and sanctified, and penitent, and pains-taking SERMON I. 31 Christians? Where, where, is the fruit? And while the preaching of Christ is all their joy, has the will of Christ become all their direc- tion ? Alas, he may look around him, and at the end of the year, after all the tumults of a i sounding popularity, he may find the great bulk of them just where they were, — as listless and unconcerned about the things of eternity, — as obstinately alienated from God, — as firmly de- voted t- SERMON IV. loa strained by the sweet and powerful influences of natural affection, to guard the safety, and provide for the nourishment of her young. Take account of these principles as they exist in the bosom of man, and you there find compas- sion for the unfortunate ; the shame of detection in any thing mean, or disgraceful ; the desire of standing well in the opinion of his fellows; the kindlier charities, which shed a mild and a quiet lustre over the walks of domestic life; and those wider principles of patriotism and public usefulness which, combined with an ap- petite for distinction, will raise a few of the more illustrious of our race to some high and splendid career of beneficence. Now, these are the principles which, scattered in various pro- portions among the individuals of human kind, give rise to the varied hues of character among them. Some possess them in no sensible de- gree; and they are pointed at with abhorrence, as the most monstrous and deformed of the spe- cies. Others have an average share x)f them; and they take their station amongst the com- mon-place characters of society. And others go beyond the average; and are singled out from amongst their fellows, as the kind, the amiable, the sweet-tempered, the upright^ whose hearts swell with honourable feelings or whose pulse beats high in the pride of in- tegrity. Now, conceive for a moment, that the belief «f a God were to be altogether expunged from 104 SERMON IV. the world. We have no doubt that society would suffer most painfully in its temporal inter- ests by such an event. But the machine of soci- ety might still be kept up ; and on the face of it you might still meet with the same gradations of character, and the same varied distribution of praise, among the individuals who compose it. Suppose it possible, that the world could be broken off from the system of God's adminis- tration altogether ; and that he were to consign it, with all its present accommodations, and all its natural principles, to some far and solitary place beyond the limits of his economy— we should still find ourselves in the midst of a moral variety of character; and man, sitting in judgment over it, would say of some, that they are good, and of others, that they are evil. Even in this desolate region of atheism, the eye of the sentimentalist might expatiate among beauteous and interest- ing spectacles,-amiable mothers shedding their graceful tears over the tomb of departed in- fancy; high-toned integrity maintaining itself unsullied amid the allurements of corruption; benevolence plying its labours of usefulness ; and patriotism earning its proud reward, in the testimony of an approving people. Here, then, you have compassion, and natural affection, and justice, and public spirit — but would it not be a glaring perversion of language to say, that there was godliness in a world, where there was no feeling and no conviction about t3lod ? SERMON IV. 105 In the midst of this busy scene, let God re- veal himself, not to eradicate these principles of action — but giving his sanction to whatsoever things are just, and lovely, and honourable, and of good report, to make himself knov^n, at the s. me time as the Creator and Upholder of all things, and as the Being with whom all his ra- tional offspring had to do. Is this solemn an- nouncement fi om the voice of the Eternal to make no difference upon them ? Are those prin- ciples which might flourish and be sustained on a soil of atheism, to be counted enough even af- ter the wonderful truth of a living and a reign- ing God has burst upon the world ? You are just ; — right, indispensably right. You say you have asserted no more than your own. But this property is not your own. He gave it to you, and he may call upon you to give to him an account of your stewardship. You are compas- sionate ; — right also. But what if he set up the measure of the sanctuary upon your compassion? and, instead of a desultory instinct, excited to feeling by a moving picture of sensibility, and limited in effect to a humble fraction of your ex- penditure, he call upon you to love your neigh- bour as yourself, and to maintain this principle at the expense of self-denial, and in the midst of manifold provocations ? You love your chil- dren; — still indispensably right. But what if he should say, and he has actually said it, that you may know how to give good gifts unto your chil- dren, and still be evil ? and that if you love fa* U 106 SERMON IV. ther, or mother, or wife, or children, more than him, you are not worthy of him ? The lustre of your accomplishments dazzles the eye of your neighbourhood, and you bask with a de- lighted heart in the sunshine of glory. Bui what if he should say, that his glory, and not your own, should be the constant aim of your doings ? and that if you love the praise of men more than the praise of God, you stand, in the pure and spiritual records of heaven, convicted of idolatry ? You love the things of the world ; and the men of the world, coming together in judgment upon you, take no of- fence at it. But God takes offence at it. He says, — and is he not right in saying ? — that if the gift withdraw the affections from the Giver, there is something wrong ; that the love of these things is opposite to the love of the Father; and that, unless you withdraw your affections from a world that perisheth, you will perish along with it. Surely if these, and such like principles, may consist with the atheism of a world where God is unthought of, and unknown, — ^you stand convicted of a still deeper and more determined atheism, who, under the revela- tion of a God challenging the honour that is due unto his name, are satisfied with your holding in society, and live without him in the world. SERMON Y,. THE JUDGMENT OF MEN, COMPARED WITH TH^E JUDGMENT OF GOD. . ' With me il is a very small thing that I should be judged of you, or of man's judgment ; — he that judgeth ma is the Lord." 1 Corinthians, 3, 4. III. When two parties meet together on the business of adjusting their respective claims, or when, in the language o£our text, they come to- gether in judgment, the principles on which they proceed must depend on the relation in which they stand to each other ; and we know not a more fatal, or a more deep-laid delusion, than that by which the principles, applicable to the case of a man entering into judgment with his fellow-men, are transferred to the far differ- ent case of man's entering into judgment with his God. Job seems to have been aware of this difference, and at times to have been hum- bled by it. In reference to man, he stood on triumphant ground, and often spoke of it in a lOB SERMON V. style of boastful vindication. No one could impeach his justice. No one could question his generosity. And he made his confident ap- peal to the remembrance of those around him, when he says of himself, that he delivered the, poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him ; that the blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon him, and he caused the widow's heart to siiig for joy; that he put on righteousness, and it clothed him, and his judgment was as a robe and a dia- dem ; that he was eyes to the blind, and feet was he to the lame ; that he was a father to the poor, Jind the cause that he knew not, he searched out. On these grounds did he chal- lenge the judgment of man, and actually ob- tained it. For we are told, because he did all this, that when the ear heard him, then it bless- ed him, and when the eye saw him, it gave wit- ness unto him. There is not a more frequent exercise of mind in society, than that by which the mem- bers of it form and declare their judgment of each other — and the work of thus decidino: is a work which they all share in, and on which, perhaps, there is not a day of their lives wherein they are not called upon to expend some measure of attention and understanding — and we know not if there be a single topic that more readily engages the conversation of human beings — and often do we utter our own testimony, and hear the testimony of others SERMON V. 109 to the virtues and vices of the absent — and out of all this has arisen a standard of estimation — and it is such a standard as many may actually reach, and soRie have actually exceeded — and thus it is, that it appears to require a very ex- tended scale of reputation to take in all the varieties of human character — and while the lower extremity of it is occupied by the dis- honest, and the perfidious, and the glaringly selfish, who are outcasts from general respect ; on the higher extremity of it, do we behold men, to whom are awarded, by the universal voice, all the honours of a proud and unsulHed excellence — and their walk in the world is dig- nified by the reverence of many salutations — and as we hear of their truth and their upright- ness, and their princely liberalities, ^nd of a heart alive to every impulse of sympathy, and of a manner sweetened by all the delicacies of genuine kindness ; — Who does not see that, in this assemblage of moral graces and accomplish- ments, there is enough to satisfy man, and to carry the admiration of man ? and can we won- der if, while we gaze on so fine a specimen of our nature, we should not merely pronounce upon him an honourable sentence at the tri- bunal of human judgment, but we should con- ceive of hiiA that he looks as bright and fault- less in the eye of God, and that he is in every way meet for his presence and his friendship in eternity ? Now, if there be any truth in the distinction 110 SERMON V. of our text; if a man may have the judgment of his fellows, and yet be utterly unfit for con- tending in judgment with God ; if there be any emphasis in the consideration, that he is God, and not man; or any delusion in conceiv- ing of him, that he is altogether like unto our- selves,— -may not all that ready circulation of praise, and of acknowledgment, which obtains in society, carry a most ruinous, and a most be- witching influence along with it ? Is it not pos- sible that on the applause of man there may be reared a most treacherous self-complacency r Might not we build a confidence before God, on this sandy foundation ? Think you not, that it is just this ill-supported confidence which shuts out from many a heart the humiliating doctrine of the gospel ? Is there no &uch ima- gination as that because we are so well able to stand our ground before the judgment of the world, we shall be equally well able to stand our ground before the judgment-seat of the great day ? Are there not many who, upon this very principle, count themselves rich and to have need of nothing ? And have you never met with men of character, and estimation in society, who, surrounded by the gratulations of their neighbourhood, find the debasing views of humanity, which are *set before us in the New Testament, to be beyond their comprehension ; who are utterly in the dark, as to the truth and the justness of such represen- tations, and with whom the voice of God is SERMON V. Ill llierefbre deafened by the voice and the testi- mony of men ? They see not themselves in that character of vileness and of guilt which he ascribes to them. They are blind to the prin- ciple of the text, that he is not a man ; and that they may not be able to answer him, though they may be able to meet the every reproach, and to hold out the lofty vindication against every charge, which any one of their fellows may prefer. And thus it is, that many live in the habitual neglect of a salvation which they cannot see that they require ; and spend their days in an insidious security, from which no- thing but the voice of the last messenger, or the call of the last trumpet, shall awaken them. To do away this delusion, we shall advert to two leading points of distinction between the judgment of men and that of God. There is a distinction founded upon the claims which God has a right to prefer against us, when corn- pared with the claims which our fellow-men have a right to prefer against us ; — and there is a distinction founded upon that clearer and more elevated sense which God has of that holiness without which no man shall see his face, of that moral worth without which we are utterly unfit for the society of heaven. The people around me have no right to com- plain, if I give to every man his own; or, in other words, if I am true to all my promises, and faith- ful to all my bargains ; and if what I claim as jus- tice to myself, I most scrupulously render to 112 SERMON V. others, when they are in like circumstances with myself. Now^, let me do all this, and I earn amongst my fellows, the character of a man of honour and of equity. Did I live with such a cha- racter in an unfallen world, these virtues w ould not at all signalize me, though the opposite vices would mark me out for universal surprise and indignation. But it so happens that I live in a world full of corruption, where deceit and dishonesty are common ; — where, though the higher degrees of them are spoken of with ab- horrence, the lower degrees of them are looked at with a very general connivance ; — w here the inflexibility of a truth that knows not one art of concealment, and the delicacy of an honour that was never tainted, w ould greatly signalize me ; — and thus it is, that though I went not be- yond the strict requirements of integrity, yet by my nice and unvarying fulfilment of them, should I rise above the ordinary level of human reputation, and be rewarded by the most flat- tering distinctions of human applause. But again, 1 may in fact give to others more than their own ; and in so doing I may earn the credit of other virtues. I may gather an addi-i tional lustre around my character, and collect from those around me the tribute of a still louder and more rapturous approbation. I may have a heart constitutionally framed to the feeling and the exercise of compassion. I may scatter on every side of me the treasures of beneficence. I may have an eye for pity, and a SERMON V. 113 hand open as day for melting charity. I may lay aside a large proportion of my wealth to the service of others, — and what with a bosom open to ev^ery impulse of pity, and with an eye ever lighted up by the smile of courteous- ness, and with a ready ear to all that is offered in the shape of cojuplaint or supplication, I may not go beyond the demands of others, but I may go greatly beyond all that they have a right to demand, — and if I signalized myself by rendering faithfully to every man his due,— still more shall I signalize myself by a kindness that is never weary, by a liberality that never is exhausted. Now, we need not offer to assign the precise degree to which a man must carry the exercise of these gratuitous virtues, ere he can obtain for them the good will, and the good opinion of society. We need not say by how small a fraction of his income, he may thus purchase the homage of his acquaintances, — at how easy a rate he may send away one person delighted by his affability ; or another by the hospitality of his reception; or a third by the rendering of a personal service ; or a fourth by the direct conveyance of A present, — or, finally, for what expense he may surround himself by the grati- tude of many poor, and the blessings and the prayers of many cottages. We cannot bring forward any rigid computation of this matter. But we appeal to the experience of your own history, and to your observation of others, if a 1^ 114 SERMON V. man might not, without any painful, or any sensible surrender of enjoyment at all, stand out to the eye of others in a blaze of moral reputa- tion— if the substantial citizen might not, on the convivialities of friendship, be indulging his own taste, and at the very time be securing from his pleased and satisfied guests, the attes- tations of their cordiality — if the man of busi- ness might not be nobly generous to his friends in adversity, and at the same time be running one unvaried career of accumulation — if the man of society might not be charming every acquaintance by the truth and the tenderness of his expressions, and at the same time, instead of impairing, be heightening his share of that felicity, vvliich the Author of our being has an- nexed to human intercourse — if a thousand little acts of accommodation from one neighbour to another, might not svrell the tide of praise and of popularity, and yet, as ample a remain-r der of pleasurable feeling be left to each as be- fore. — And even when the sacrifice is more painful, and the generosity more romantic, and man can appeal to some mighty reduction of wealth as the measure of his beneficence to others, might it not be said of him, if the life be more than meat, and the body than raiment, that still there is left to him more than he can possibly surrender? that, though he strip himself of all his goods to feed the poor, there remains to him that, without which all is nothingness, — that, a breathing and a conscious 8EIIM0N V. 115 man, he still treads on the face of our world, and bears his part in that universe of life, where the unfailing compassion of God still con- tinues to uphold him, — that, instead of lying wrapt in the insensibility of an eternal grave, he has all the images of a waking existence around him, and all the glories of immortality before him, — that, instead of being withered to a thing of nought, and gone to that dark and hidden land, where all is silence and deep an- nihilation, a thousand avenues of enjoyment are still open to him, and the promise of a daily provision is still made sure, and he is free to all the common blessings of nature, and he is freer still to all the consolations, and to all the pri~ vileges of the gospel. Thus it appears that after I have fultilled all the claims of men, and men are satisfied, — that after having gone, in the exercise of liberality, beyond these claims, and men are filled with delight and admiration, — that after, on the footing of equal and independent rights, I have come into judgment with my fellows, and they have awarded to me the tribute of their most honourable testimony, the footing on which 1 stand with God still remains to be attended to> and his claims still remain to be adjusted, — and the mighty account still lies uncancelled between the creature and the Creator, — be- tween the man who, in reference to his neigh- bours, can say, I give every one his own, and out of my own [expatiate in act=; of tender- lia SERMON V. ness and generosity amongst them, and the God who can say, You have nothing that you did not receive, and all you ever gave is out ot the ability which I have conferred upon you, and this w ealth is not your ow n, but his who bestowed it, and who now calls upon you to ren- der an account of your stewardship,— between the man, w ho has purchased by a fraction of his property, the good will of his acquaintances^ and the God who asserts his right to have every fraction of it turned into an expression of grati- tude, and devoted to his glory, — between the man w ho holds up his head in society, because his justice, and the ministrations of his liberali- ty, have distinguished him, and the God who demands the returns of duty and of acknow- ledgment, for giving him the fund of these ministrations, and for giving what no money can purchase, — for putting the principle of life into his bosom, — for furnishing him with all his senses, and, through these inlets of communica- tion, giving him a part, and a property, in all that is around him, — for sustaining him in all Ihe elements of his being, and conferring upon him ail his capacities, and all his joys. Now, what we wish you to feel is, that the judgment of men may be upon your side, and the judgment of God be most righteously against you — that, while from the one nothing is heard but admiration and gratitude, from the other, there may be such a charge of sinfulness, aSj when set in order before your eye, will con- SERMON V 117 vince jou, that he by whom you consist, is defrauded of all his offerings, — that, while all the common honesties and Immanities of social life, arc acquitted to the entire satisfaction of others, and to the entire purity of your own reputation in the world, your whole heart and conduct may be utterly pervaded by the habit of ungod- liness, — that, while not one claim which your neighbours can prefer, is not met most readily, and discharged most honourably, the great claims of the Creator, over those whom he has formed, may lie altogether unheeded ; and he, your constant benefactor, be not loved, — and he, your constant preserver, be not depended on,~ and he, your most legitimate sovereign, be not obeyed, — and he, the unseen Spirit, who pervades all, and upholds all, be neither wor- shipped in spirit and in truth, nor vested. with the hold of a rightful supremacy over your re- bellious affections. God is not man : nor can vve measure what is due to him, by what is due to our fellows in society. He made us, and he upholds us, and at his will the life which is in us, will, like the expiring vapour, pass away; and the taberna- cle of the body, that curious frame-work which man thinks he can move at his own pleasure, when it is only in God that he moves, as well as lives, and has his being, will, when abandon- ed by its spirit, mix with the dust out of which it was formed, and enter agani into the uncon- scious glebe from which it was taken. It was, 118 SERiMON V. indeed, a wondrous preferment for unshapen clay to be wrought into so fine an organic struc- ture, but not more wondrous surely than that the soul which animates it should have been creat- ed out of nothing ; and what shall we say, if the compound being so originated, and so sus- tained, and depending on the will of another for every moment of his continuance, is found to spurn the thought of God, in distaste and disaf- fection away from him? When the spirit returns to him who sitteth on the throne; when the question is put, Amid all the multitude of your doings in the world, what have you done unto me? When the rightful ascendency of his claims over every movement of the creature is made manifest by him who judgeth righteously; when the high but just pretensions of all things being done to his glory; of the entire heart be- ing consecrated in everyone of its regards to his person and character; of the whole man being- set apart to his service, and every compromise being done away, between the world on the one hand, and that Being on the other, who is jea- lous of his honour : — when these high preten- sions are set up and brought into comparison with the character and the conduct of any one of us, and it be inquired in how far we have rendered unto God the ever-breathing grati- tude that is due to him, and that obedience which we should feel at all times to be our task and our obligation; how shall we fare in that great day of examination, if it be found SERMON V. 119 that this has not been the tendency of our na- ture at all ? and when he who is not a man shall thus enter into judgment with us, how shall we be able to stand ? Amid all the praise we give and receive from each other, we may have no claims to that sub- stantial praise which cometh from God only. Men may be satisfied, but it followeth not that God is satisfied. Under a ruinous delusion upon this subject, we may fancy ourselves to be rich, and have need of nothing, while, in fact; we are naked, and destitute, and bhnd, and miserable. And thus it is, that there is a morality of this world, which stands in direct opposition to the humbling representations of the Gospel ; which cannot comprehend what it means by the utter worthlessness and depravity of our nature ; which passionately repels this statement, and that too on its own consciousness of attainments superior to those of the sordid, and the profligate, and the dishonourable ; and is fortified in its resistance to the truth as it is in Jesus, by the flattering testimonials which it gathers to its respectability and its worth from the various quarters of human society. A just sense of the extent of claim which God has upon his own creatures, would lay open this hiding-place of security; would lead us to see, that to do some things for our neighbours, is not the same with doing all things for our Ma- ker ; that a natural principle of honesty to man, is altogether distinct from a principle of entire 120 SERMON V. devotedness to God ; that the tithe which we bestow upon others is not an equivalent for a to- tal dedication unto God of ourselves, and of all which belongs to us; that we may present those around us with many an offering of kindness, and not present our bodies a living sacrifice to God, which is our reasonable service ; that we may earn a cheap and easy credit for such virtues as will satisfy the world, and be utter strangers to the self-denial, and the spirituality,and the morti- fication, of every earthly desire, and the affection for the things that are above ; — all of which graces enter as essential ingredients into the sanctification of the gospel. But this leads us to the second point of dis- tinction between the judgment of man and that of God, — even his clearer and more ele- vated sense of that holiness without which no man shall see his face, and of that moral worth without which we are utterly unfit for the society of heaven. Man's sense of the right and the wrong may be clear and intelligent enough, in so far as that part of character is concerned which renders us fit for the society of earth. Those virtues, without which a community could not be held together, are both urgently demanded by that community, and highly appreciated by it. The morality of our earthly life, is a morality which is in direct subservience to our earthly accom- modation; and seeingthatecjuity.and humanity, and civility, are in such visible and immediate SERMON V. 121 Connexion with all the security, and all the en- joyment which they spread around them, it is not to be wondered at, that they should throw over the character of him by whom they are exhibited, the lustre .of a grateful and a superior estimation. And thus it is, that even without any very nice or exquisite refinement of these virtues, many an ordinary characterwillpass; — and should that character be deformed by the levities, or even by the profligacies of intem- perance, he who sustains it may still bear his part among the good men of society, — and keep away from it all that malignity, and all that dis- honesty, which have a disturbing effect on the enjoyments of others, and these others will still retain their kindliness for the good-humoured convivialist, — and he will be suffered to retain his own taste, and his own peculiarities; and, though it may be true, that chastity, and self- control, and the severer virtues of personal dis- cipline and restraint, would in fact give a far more happy and healthful tone to society than at present it possesses, yet this influence is not so conspicuous, and heedless men do not look so far; and therefore it is, that in spite of his many outward and positive transgressions of the divine law, many an individual can be re- ferred to, who, with his average share of the irj- tegrities and the sensibilities of social life, has stamped upon him the currency of a very fair every-day character, who moves among bis fel- lows without disgrace, and meets ^vith accept- 16 122 SERMON V. ance throughout the general run of this world's companies. If such a measure of indulgence be extended to the very glaring iniquities of the outer man, let us not wonder though the errors of the heart, the moral diseases of the spirit, the dis- organization of the inner man, with its turbu- lent passions, and its worldly affections, and its utter deadness to the consideration of an over- ruling God, should find a very general indul- gence among our brethren of the species. Bring a man to sit in judgment over the de- pravities of our common nature, and unless these depravities are obviously pointed against the temporal good of society, what can we expect, but that he will connive at the infirmities of which he feels himself to be so large and so habitual a partaker ? What can we expect but that his moral sense, clouded as it is against the discernment of his own exceeding turpitude, will also perceive but dimly, and feel but ob- tusely, a similar turpitude in the character of others? What else can we look for, than that the man who fires so promptly on the reception of an injury, will tolerate in his fellow all the vindictive propensities ? — or, that the man who feels not in his bosom a single movement of principle or of tenderness towards God, will to- lerate in another an equally entire habit of un- godliness? — or, that the man who surrenders him- self to the temptations of voluptuousness, will perceive no enormity of character at all in the SERMON V. ]23 unrestrained dissipations of an acquaintance.-^ — And, in a word, when [ see a man whose rights I have never invaded, who has no complaint of personal wronger provocation to allege against me, and who shares equally with myself in na- ture's blindness and nature's propensities, 1 will not be afraid of entering into judgment with him; — nor shall I stand in awe of any penetrating glance from his eye, of any indignant remon- strance from his offended sense of what is right- eous, though there be made bare to his inspec- tion all my devotedness to the world, and all my proud disdain at the insolence of others, and all my anger at the sufferings of injustice, and all my indifTerence to the God who formed me, and all those secrecies of an unholy and an unheavenly character, which are to be brought out into full manifestation on the great day of the winding up of this world's history. It is a very capital delusion that God is like unto man, — " Thou thoughtest that I was alto- gether such a one as thyself; but I will reprove thee, and set thy sins in order before thine eyes. Now consider this, ye that forget God, lest 1 tear you in pieces, and there be none to de- liver." Man and man may come together in judg- ment, and retire from each other in mutual complacency. But when man and God thus come together, ther^ is another principle, and another standard of examination. There is a claim of justice on the part of the Creator, to- 124 SERMON V. tally distinct trom any claim Avhich a fellow creature can prefer, — and while the one will tolerate all that is consistent with the economy and the interest of the society upon earth, the other can tolerate nothing that is inconsistent with the economy and the character of the society in heaven. God made us for eter- nity. He designed us to be the members of a family which never separates, and over which he himself presides in the visible glory of all that worth, and of all that moral excellence, which belong to him. He formed us at first after his own likeness ; and ere we can be re- admitted into that paradise from which we have been exiled, we must be created anew in the image of God. These spirits must be made perfect, and every taint of selfishness and impurity be done away from them. Heaven is the place into which nothing that is up.clean or unholy can enter ; and wc are not preparing for our inheritance there, unless there be gath- ering upon us here, the lineaments of a celes- tial character Now, a man may be accomplish- ed in the moralities of civil and of social life, without so much as the semblance of such a character resting upon him. He may have no share whatsoever in the tastes, or in the enjov- ments, or in the affections of paradise. There might not be a single trace of the mark of the Lamb of God upon his forehead. He who ponders so intelligently the secrets of the heart, may be able to discover there no vestige of an} SERMON V. 125 love for himself, — no sensibility at all to what is amiable or to what is great in the character of the Godhead, — no desire whatever after his glory, — no such feeling towards him who is to tabernacle with men, as will qualify him to bear a joyful part in the songs, and the praises of that city which has foundations. Surrounded as he is by the perishable admiration of his fellows, he is altogether out of affection, and out of ac- quaintance, with that Being with whom he has to do ; and it will be found, on the great day of the doings, and the deliberations of the judg- ment-seat, that as he had no relish for God in time, so is he utterly unlit for his presence, or for his friendship in eternity. It is said of God, that he created man after his own image, and it was upon losing this image that he was cast out of paradise : and ere he can be again admitted, the image that has been lost must again be formed on him. The grand qualification for the society of heaven is, that each of its members be like unto God. In the selfish and sensual society of earth, there is many a feature of resemblance to the Godhead that is most readily dispensed with ; and many an individual here obtains ap- plause and toleration among his fellows, though there is not one attribute of the saintly character belonging to him. Let him only fulfil the stipu- lations of integrity, and smile benignity upon his friends, and render the alacrity of willing and valuable services to those who have never 126 SERMON V. offended him, and on the strength of such per- formances as these, may he rise to a conspicu- ous place in the scale of this world's reputation. But what would have been the sad event to us^ had these been the only performances which went to illustrate the character of the Godhead, had he been a God of whom we could say no more, than that he possessed the one attribute of an unrelenting justice, or even that he went beyond this attribute, in the exercise of kind- ness to those who loved him, and in acts of beneficence to those who had never offended him ? Do we not owe our place and our pro- spect to the love of God for his enemies ? Is it not from the riches of his forbearance and long- suffering, that we draw all our enjoyments in time, and all our hopes for eternity ? Is it not because, though grieved with sinners every day, he still waitslo be gracious ; that he holds out to us, his heedless and wayward children, the beseeching voice of reconciliation ; and puts on such an aspect of tenderness to those who have not ceased from their birth to vex his Holy Spirit, and to thwart him every hour by the perverseness of their disobedience ? This is the godlike attribute on which all the pri- vileges of our fallen race are suspended ; and yet against the imitation of which, nature, when , urged by the provocations of injustice, rises in - such a tumult of strong and impetuous resist- ance. It is through the putting forth of this attribute, that any redeemed sinners are to be SERMON V. 127 found among the other society of heaven ; but into which no member shall be admitted out of this corrupt world, till there be stamped and realized on his own person, that feature of the divinity to which he owes a distinction so ex- alted. And tell us, ye men who are so jealous of right and of honour, who take sudden fire at every insult, and suffer the slightest imagina- tion of another's contempt, or another's un- fairness, to chase from your bosom every feel- ing of complacency ; — ye men whom every fan- cied affront puts into such a turbulence of emotion, and in whom every fancied infringe- ment stirs up the quick and the resentful ap- petite for justice — how will you stand the ri- gorous application of that test by which the forgiven of God are ascertained, even that the spirit of forgiveness is in them, and by which it will be pronounced whether you are indeed the children of the highest, and perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect ? But we must hasten to a close, and will there- fore, barely suggest some other matters of self- examination. We ask you, to think of the fa- cility with which you might obtain the appro- bation of men, without being at all like unto God in the holiness of his character. We ask you to think of the delight which he takes in the contemplation of what is pure, and moral, and righteous. We ask you to think how one great object of his creation, was to diffuse over\ the face of it a multiplied resemblance of him- 128 SERMON V. self,— and that, therefore, however fit you may be for sustaining your part in the ahenated community of this world, you are most as- suredly unfit for the great and the general as- sembly of the spirits ofjust men made perfect, if unlike unto God who is in the midst of them, you have no congenial delight with the Father of all, in the contemplation of spiritual excel- lence. Now, are you not blind to the glories and the perfections of that Being who realises this excellence to a degree that is infinite? Does not the creature fill up all your avenues of enjoyment, while the Creator is forgotten ? In reference to God, is there not an utter dull- ness and insensibihty of all your regards to him ? If thus blind to the perception of that supreme virtue and lovliness which reside in the Godhead, are you not, in fact, and by na- ture an outcast fromthe Godhead? And an out- cast will you ever remain, until your character be brought under some mighty revolutionizing influence, which is able to shift the currency of your desires, and to over-rule nature with all her obstinate habits, aud all her ibnd and favourite predilections. These are topics of great weight and great pregnancy; but we leave them to your own thoughts, and only ask you at present to look at the vivid illustration of them that may be gathered out of the history of Job. In reference to his fellows,hecouldmakeatriumphant appeal to the honour and the humanity which adorn- SERMON V. 129 ed him, he could speak of the splendid career ofbeneticence thai he had run, — and, in the re- collection of the plaudits that had surrounded him, he could boldly challenge the inspection of all his neighbours, and of all his enemies, on the whole tract of his visible history in the world. He protested his innocence before them, and even so long as he had only heard of God by the hearing of the ear, did he address him in the language of justification. But when God at length revealed himself, — when the worth and the majesty of the Eternal stood before him in visible array, — when the actual presence of h's Maker bronc^ht the claims of his Maker to bear impressively upon his conscience, it was not merely the presence of the power of God which overawed him ; it was the presence of the righteousness of God which convinced him, — and when, from the bright assemblage of all that was pure, and holy, and graceful in the aspect of the Divinity, he turned the eye of contemplation downward upon himself, — O it is instructive to be told, how the vaunting patriarch shrunk into all the depths of self- abasement at so striking a manifestation ; and how he said, " I have heard of thee by the hear* ing of the ear, but now mine eye seeth thee ; wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and in ashes." It is indeed a small matter to be judged of man's judgment. He who judges us is God. From this judgment Ihere is no escape, and no 17 130 SERMON V. hiding-place. The testimony of our fellows will as little avail us in the day of judgment, as the help of our fellows will avail us in the hour of death. We may as well think of seeking a re- fuge in the applause of men, from the condem- nation of God, as we may think of seeking a refuge in the power or the skill of men, from the mandate of God, that our breath shall de- part from us. And, have you never thought, when called to the chamber of the dying man, — when you saw the warning of death upon his countenance, and how its symptoms gathered and grew, and got the ascendency over all the ministrations of human care and of human ten- derness, — when it every day became more vi- sible, that the patient was drawing to his close, and that nothing in the whole compass of art or any of its resources, could stay the advances of the sure and the last malady, — have you never thought, on seeing the bed of the sufferer surrounded by other comforters than those of the Patriarch,— when, from morning to night, and from night to morning, the watchful family sat at his couch, and guarded his broken slum- bers, and interpreted all his signals, and tried to hide from his observation the tears which attested him to be the kindest of parents,— when the sad anticipation spread its gloomy stillness over the household, and even sent forth an air of seriousness and concern upon the men of other families, — when you have witness- ed the despair of friends, who could only turn Sermon v. isi them to cry at the spectacle of his last agonies, and had seen how little it was that weeping- children and inquiring neighbours could do for him, — when you have contrasted the unrelent- ing necessity of the grave, with the feebleness of every surrounding endeavour to ward it, has the thought never entered within you ? How powerless is the desire of man ! — how sure and how resistless is the decree of God ! And on the day of the second death, will it be found, that it is not the imagination of man, but the sentence of God that shall stand. When the sound of the last trumpet awakens us from the grave, and the ensigns of the last day are seen on the canopy of heaven, and the tremor of the dissolving elements is felt upon earth, and the Son of God with his mighty angels are placed around the judgment-seat, and the men of all ages and of all nations are standing before it, and waiting the high decree of eternity, — then will it be found, that as no power of man can save his fellow from going down to the grave of mortality, so no testimony of man can save his fellow from going down to the pit of con- demnation. Each on that day will mourn apart. Each of those on the left hand, en- grossed by his own separate contemplation, and overwhelmed by the dark and the louring fu- turity of his own existence, will not have a thought or a sympathy to spare for those who are around him. Each of those on the right hand will see and acquiesce in the righteous- ness of God, and be made to acknowledge, 132 - SERMON V. that those things which are highly esteemed among men are in his sight an abomination. When the Judge and his attendants shall come on the high errand of this world's destinies, the J will come from God, — and the pure prin- ciple they shall bring along with tliem from the sanctuary of heaven, will be the entire subor- dination of the thing formed to him who form- ed it. In that praise which upon earthly feel- ings the creatures offer one to another, we be- hold no recognition of this principle whatever ; and therefore it is, that it is so very different from the praise which cometh from God only. And should any one of these creatures be made on that great day of manifestation, to see his nakedness,~should the question, what have you done unto me ? leave him speechless ; should at length, convicted of his utter rebelliousness against God, he try to find among the compa- nions of his pilgrimage, some attestation to the kindliness that beamed from him upon his fel- low mortals in the world, — they will not be able to hide him from the coming wrath. In the face of all the tenderness they ever bore him, the se- verity of an unreconciled lawgiver must have upon him its resistless operation. They may all bear witness to the honour and the gener- osity of his doings among men, but there is not one of them who can justify him before God. Nor among all those who now yield him a ready testimony on earth will he find a day's-man be- twixt him and his Creator, who can lay his hand upon them both. SERMON VI THE NECESSITY OF A MEDIATOR BETWEEN GOJ> AND MAN. Neither is there any day's-man betwixt us that might lay his hand upon us both." Job ix. 33 IV. The feeling of Job, at the time of his ut- tering the complaint which is recorded in the verses before us, might not have been altoge- ther free of a reproachful spirit towards those friends who had refused to advocate his cause, and who had even added bitterness to his dis- tress by their most painful and unwelcome argu- ments. And well may it be our feeling, and that too without the presence of any such ingredient along with it — that there is not a man upon earth who can execute the office of a day's-man betwixt us and God,— that taking the common sense of this term, there is none who can act as an umpire between us the children of ungodH- aess, and the Lawgiver, whom we have so deep- ly offended ; or taking up the term that occurs m the Septuagint version of the Bible, that 134 SERMON VI. amongst all our brethren of the species, not an individual is to be found who, standing in the place of a mediator, can lay his hand upon us both. It is indeed very possible, that all this may carry the understanding, and at the same time have all the inefficiency of a cold and gen- eral speculation. But should the Spirit, whose office it is to convince us of sin, lend the pow- er of his demonstration to the argument, — should he divide asunder our thoughts, and en- able us to see that, with the goodly semblance of what is fair and estimable in the sight of man, all within us is defection from the princi- ple of loyalty to God, — that while we yield a duty as the members of society, the duty that lies upon us, as the creatures of the Supreme Being, is, in respect of the spirit of allegiance which gives it all its value, fallen away from, by every one of us, — should this conviction cleave to us like an arrow sticking fast, and w^ork its legitimate influence, in causing us to feel all the worthlessness of our characters, and all the need and danger of our circumstances, — then would the urgency of the case be felt as well as understood by us, — nor should we be long of pressing the inquiry of where is the day's- man betwixt us that might lay his hand upon us both ? And, in fact, by putting the Mediator away from you, — by reckoning on a state of safety and acceptance without him, what is the ground upon which, in reference to God, you SERMON VI. 135 actually put yourselves ? We speak not at pre- sent of the danger of persisting in such an atti- tude of independence, — of its being one of those refuges of treachery in which the good man of the world is often to be found,— of its being a state wherein peace, when there is no peace, lulls him by its flatteries into a deceitful repose. We are not at present saying how ruin- ous it is to rest a security upon an imposing exte- rior, when in fact the heart is not right in the sight of God, and while the reproving eye of him, who judgeth not as man judgeth, is upon him, or how poisonous is the unction that comes upon the soul from those praises which upon the mere exhibition of the social virtues, are rung and circulated through society. But, in addition to the danger, let us insist upon the guilt of thus casting the offered Mediator away from us. It implies, in the most direct possible way, a senti- ment of the sufficiency of our own righteous- ness. It is expressly saying of our obedience, that it is good enough for God. It is presump- tuously thinking that what pleases the world may please the Maker of it, even though he himself has declared it to be a world lying in wickedness. There is an aggrava- tion you will perceive in all this which goes beyond the simple infraction of the command- ment. It is, after the infraction of it, challeng- ing for some remainder or for some semblance of conformity, the reward and approbation of the God wliose law we have dishonoured. Tt 136 SERMON VL is, after we have braved the attribute of the Ah mighty's justice, by incurring its condemnation, making an attempt upon the attribute itself, by bringing it down to the standard of a polhited obedience. It is, after insulting the throne of God's righteousness, embarking in the still deadlier enterprise of demolishing all the stabi- lities which guard it; and spoiling it of that truth which has pronounced a curse on the children of iniquity, — of that holiness which cannot dwell with evil, — of that unchangeableness which will admit of no compromise with sinners that can violate the honours of the Godhead, or weaken the authority of his government over the uni- verse that he has formed. It is laying those paltry accomplishments which give you a place of distinction among your fellows, before that God of whose throne justice and judgment are the habitation, and calling upon him to connive at all that you want, and to look with complacen- cy on all that you possess. It is to bring to the bar of judgment the poor and the starving sam- ples of virtue which are current enough in a world broken loose from its communion with God, and to defy the inspection upon them of God's eter- nal Son, and of the angels he brings along with him to witness the righteousness of his decisions. Sin has indeed been the ruin of our nature — but this refusal of the Saviour of sinners lands them in a perdition still deeper and more irrecover- able. It is blindness to the enormity of sin. It is equivalent to a formally announced senti- SERMON VI. 137 ment on your part that jour performances, sin- ful as they are, and polluted as they are, are good enough for heaven. It is just saying of the offered Saviour, that you do not see the use of him. It is a provoking contempt of mercy; and causing the measure of ordinary guilt to overflow, by heaping the additional blasphemy upon it, of calling upon God to ho- nour it by his rewards, and to look to it with the complacency of his approbation. We cannot, then, we cannot draw near unto God, by a direct or independent approach to him. And who, in these circumstances, is fit to be the day's-man betwixt you.^^ There is not a fellow-mortal from Adam downward, who has not sins of his own to answer for. There is not one of them who has not the sentence of guilt inscribed upon his own forehead, and who is not arrested by the same unsealed barrier which keeps you at an inaccessible distance fromGod, There is not one of them whose entrance into the holiest of all would not inflict on it as great a profanation, as if any of you were to present yourselves before him, who dwelleth there, without a Mediator. There lieth a great gulf between God and the whole of this alienated world : and after looking round amongst all the men of all its generations, we may say, in the lan- guage of the text, that there is not a day's-man betwixt us who can lay his hand upon us both. What we aim at, as the effect of all these ob- servations, is, that you should feel your only se- 18 138 SERMON VI. curitj to be in the revealed and the offered Mediator ; that you should seek to him as your only effectual hiding-place ; and who alone, in the whole range of universal being, is able to lay his hand upon you, and shield you from the jus- tice of the Almighty, and to lay his hand upon God, and stay the fury of the avenger. By him the deep atonement has been rendered. By him the mystery has been accomplished, which an- gels desired to look into. By him such a sacri- fice for sin has been offered, as that, in the ac- ceptance of the sinner, every attribute of the Divinity is exalted ; and the throne of the Ma- jesty in the heavens, though turned into a throne of grace, is still upheld in all its firmness, and in all its glory. Through the unchangeable priesthood of Christ, the vilest of sinners may draw ni«;h, and receive of that mercy which has met with truth, and of that peace which is in close alliance with righteousness ; and without one perfection of the Godhead being surren- dered by this act of forgiveness, all are made to receive a higher and more wondrous mani- festation ; for though he will by no means clear the guilty, yet there is no place for vengeance* when all their guilt is cleared away by the blood of the everlasting covenant ; and though he executeth justice upon the earth, yet he can be just while the justiner of them who believe in Jesus. The work of our redemption is every where spoken of as an achievement of strength — as SERMON VI. 139 done by the putting forth of mighty energies— as the work of one who, travaihng in his own unaided greatness, had to tread the wine-press alone ; and who, when of the people there was none to help him, did by his own arm bring unto him salvation. To move aside the ob- stacle which beset the path of acceptance; to reinstate the guilty into favour with the of- fended and unchangeable Lawgiver; to avert from them the execution of that sentence to which there were staked the truth and justice of the Divinity ; to work out a pardon for the disobedient, and at the same time to uphold in all their strength the pillars of that throne which they had insulted ; to intercept the de- tied penalties of the law, and at the same time to magnify it, and to make it honourable ; thus to bend, as it were, the holy and everlasting attributes of God, and in doing so, to pour over them the lustre of a high and awful vindication, — this was an enterprise of such height, and depth, and breadth, and length, as no created being could fulfil, and which called forth the might and the counsel of him who is the power of God, and the wisdom of God. When no man could redeem his neighbour from the grave, — God himself found out a ran- som. When not one of the beings whom he had formed could offer an adequate expiation, — did the Lord of hosts awaken the sword of ven- geance against his fellow. When there was no 140 SERMON Vi. tnessenger among the angels who surrounded his throne, that could both proclaim and pur- chase peace for a guilty world, — did God mani- fest in the flesh descend in shrouded majesty amongst our earthly tabernacles, and pour out his soul unto the death for us, and purchase the church by his own blood, and bursting away from the grave which could not hold him, as» cend to the throne of his appointed mediator- ship ; and now he, the first and the last, who was dead and is alive, and maketh intercession for transgressors, is able to save to the utter- most all who come unto God through him; and standing in the breach between a holy God and the sinners who have offended him, does he make reconciliation, and lay his hand upon them both. But it is not enough that the Mediator be appointed by God, — he must be accepted by man. And to incite our acceptance does he hold forth every kind and constraining argu- ment. He casts abroad, over the whole face of the world, one wide and universal assurance of welcome. " Whosoever cometh unto me shall not be cast out." " Come unto me all ye who la- bour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'^ " Where sin hath abounded, grace hath much more abounded." " Whatsoever ye ask iri my name ye shall receiva" The path of access to Christ is open and free of every obstacle, which kept fearful and guilty man at an im- practicable distance from the jealous and un- SERMON VI. 141 pacitied Lawgiver. He hath put aside the ob- stacle, and now stands in its place. Let us only go in the way of the Gospel, and we shall fiid nothing between us and God but the au- thor and finisher of the Gospel, — who, on the one hand, beckons to him the approach of man, with every token of truth and of tender- ness ; and, on the other hand, advocates our cause with God, and fills his mouth with argu- ments, and pleads that very atonement which was devised in love by the Father, and with the incense of which he was well pleased, and claims, as the fruit of the travail of his soul, all who put their trust in him ; and thus laying hi^ hand upon God, turns him altogether from the fierceness of his indignation. But Jesus Christ is something more than the agent of our justification,— he is the agent of our sanctification also. Standing between us and God, he receives from him of that Spirit which is called the promise of the Father, and he pours it forth in free and generous dispen- sation on those who believe in him. Without this spirit there may, in a few of the goodlier specimens of our race, be within us the play of what is kindly in constitutional feeling, and without us the exhibition of what is seemly in a constitutional virtue ; and man, thus standing t)ver us in judgment, may pass his verdict of approbation ; and all that is visible in our doings may be pure as by the operation of snow water. Bui the utter irreligiousness of our nature will 142 SERiMON Yf. remain as entire and as obstinate as ever. The alienation of our desires from God will persist with unsubdued vigour in our bosoms ; and sin^ in the very essence of its elementary principle, will still lord it over the inner man with all the power of its original ascendency, — till the deep, and the searching, and the pervading in- fluence of the love of God be shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost. This is the work of the great Mediator. This is the might and the mystery of that regeneration, v^ithout which we shall never see the kingdom of God. This is the office of Him to whom all power is com- mitted, both in heaven and in earth,-- who, reigning in heaven, and uniting its mercy with its righteousness, causes them to flow upon earth in one stream of celestial influence ; and reigning on earth, and working mightily in the hearts of its people, makes them meet for the society of heaven, — thereby completing the wonderful work of our redemption, by which, on the one hand, he brings the eye of a holy God to look approvingly on the sinner, and, on the other hand, makes the sinner fit for the fellowship, and altogether prepared for the en- joyment of God. Such are the great elements of a sinner's re- ligion. But if you turn from the prescribed use of them, the wrath of God abideth on you. If you kiss not the Son while he is in the way, you provoke his anger, and when once it begins to burn, they only are blessed who have put SERMON VI. 143 their trust in him. If, on the fancied sufficien- cy of a righteousness that is without godliness, you neglect the great salvation, you will not escape the severities of that day, when the Being with whom you have to do shall en- ter with you into judgment; and it is only by fleeing to the Mediator, as you would from a coming storm, that peace is made between you and God, and that, sanctified by the faith which is in Jesus, you are made to abound in such fruits of righteousness, as shall be to praise and glory at the last and the solemn reckoning. Before we conclude, we shall just advert to another sense, in which the Mediator between God and man may be affirmed to have laid his hand upon them both :—He fills up that mys- terious interval which lies between every cor- poreal being, and the God who is a spirit and is invisible. No man hath seen God at any time,— and the power which is unseen is terrible. Fancy trembles before its own picture, and supersti- tion throws its darkest imagery over it. The voice of the thunder is awful, but not so awful as the conception of that angry Being who sits in mysterious concealment, and gives it all its energy. In these sketches of the imagination, fear is sure to predominate. We gather an im- pression of Nature's God, from those scenes where Nature threatens, and looks dreadful. We speak not of the theology of the schools, and the empty parade of its demonstrations. 144 SERMON VI, We speak of the theology of actual feeling,— that theology which is sure to derive its lessons ir-om the quarter whence the human heart de- rives its strongest sensations, — and we refer both to your own feelings, and to the history of this world's opinions, if God is more felt or more present to yourimaginations in the peacefulness of spring, or the loveliness of a summer land- scape, than when winter with its mighty ele- ments sw^eeps the forest of its leaves,^ — when the rushing of the storm is heard upon our win- dows, and man flees to cover himself from the desolation that walketh over the surface of the world. If nature and her elements be dreadful, how dreadful that mysterious and unseen Being, who sits behind the elements he has formed, and gives birth and movement to all things! It is the mystery in which he is shrouded, — it is that dark and unknown region of spirits, where he reigns in glory, and stands revealed to the immediate view of his worshippers, — it is the inexplicable manner of his being so far removed from that province of sense, within which the understanding of man can expatiate, — it is its total unlikeness to all that nature can furnish to the eye of the body, or to the conception of the mind which animates it, — it is all this which throws the Being who formed us at a distance so inaccessible. — which throws an im- penetrable mantle over his way, and gives us the idea of some dark and untrodden interval SERMON VL u betwixt the glory of God, and all that is visible and created. Now, Jesus Christ has lifted up this myste- rious veil, or rather he has entered within it. He is now at the right hand of God ; and though the brightness of his Father's glory, and the ex- press image of his person, he appeared to us in thepalpable characters of aman; and those high attributes of truth, and justice, and mercy, which could not be felt or understood, as they existed in the abstract and invisible Deity, are brought down to our conceptions in a manner the most familiar and impressive, by having been made, through Jesus Christ, to flo^v in utterance from human lips, and to beam in expressive phy- siognomy from a human countenance. So long as I had nothing before me but the unseen spirit of God, my mind wandered in uncertainty, my busy fancy was free to expatiate, and its images filled my heart with disquietude and terror. But in the life, and person, and histo- ry of Jesus Christ, the attributes of the Deity are brought down to the observation of the senses ; and I can no longer mistake them, when in the Son, who is the express image of his Father, I see them carried home to my understanding by the evidence and expression of human organs, — when I see the kindness of the Father, in the tears which fell from his Son at the tomb of Lazarus, — when I see his justice blended with his mercy, in the exclamation, " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem," by Jesus Christ; uttered with a tone 19 m. 146 SERMON Vf. more tender than the sympathy of human bosom ever prompted, while he bewailed the sentence of its desolation,— and in the look of energy and significance which he threw upon Peter, I feel the judgment of God himself, flashing con- viction upon my conscience, and calling me to repent while his wrath is suspended, and he still waiteth to be gracious. And it was not a temporary character which he assumed. The human kindness, and the human expression which makes it intelligible to us, remained with him till his latest hour. They survived his resurrection, and he has carried them along with him to the mysterious place which he now occupies. How do I know all this? I know^ it from his history; I hear it in the parting words to his mother from the cross ; I see it in his unaltered form when he rose triumphant from the grave; I perceive it in his tenderness for the scruples of the unbeheving Thomas; and I am given to understand, that as his body retained the im- pression of his own sufferings, so his mind re- tains a sympathy for ours, as warm, and gra- cious, and endearing, as ever. We have a Priest on high, who is touched with a fellow feehng of our infirmities. My soul, unable to support itself in its aerial flight among the spirits of the invisible, now reposes on Christ, who stands revealed to my conceptions in the figure, the countenance, the heart, the sympa- thies of a man. He has entered within that SERMON VI. 147 veil which hung over the glories of the Eternal ; and the mysterious inaccessible throne of God is divested of all its terrors, when I think that a friend who bears the form of the species, and knows its infirmities, is there to plead for me. SERMON VII. THE FOLLV OF MEN MEASURING THEMSELVES BV THEMSELVES. 2 Corinthians x. 12. '* For we dare not make ourselves of the number, or com- pare ourselves with some that commend themselves ; but they, measuring themselves by themselves, and compar- ing themselves among themselves, are not wise," St. Paul addressed these words to the mem- bers of a Christian congregation ; and were we to confine their application to those people of the present day, who, in circumstances, bear the nearest resemblance to them, we would, in the present discourse, have chiefly to do with the more serious and declared professors of the Gospel. Nor should we be long at a loss for a very observable peculiarity amongst them, against which to point the admonition of the Apostle. For, in truth, there is a great dispo- sition with the members of the religious world, fo look away from the unalterable standard of SERMON VII. 149 God's will, and to form a standard of authority out of the existing attainments of those whom they conceive to be iii the faith. We know nothing that has contributed more than this to reduce the tone of practical Christianity. We know not a more insidious security, than that which steals over the mind of him who, when he looks to another of eminent name for godli- ness, or orthodoxy, and perceives in him a cer- tain degree of conformity to the world, or a cer- tain measure of infirmity of temper, or a certain abandonment of himself to the natural enjoy- ments of luxury, or of idle gossiping, or of com- menting with malignant pleasure on the faults and failings of the absent, thinks, that upon such an example, it is safe for him to allow in himself an equal extent of indulgence ; and to go the same lengths of laxity or transgression; and thus, instead of measuring himself by the perfect law of the Almighty, and making con- formity to it the c' ect of his strenuous aspir- ings, — does he measure himself and compare himself with his fellow-mortals, — and pitches his ambition to no greater height than the ac- cidental level which obtains amongst the mem- bers of his own religious brotherhood, and finds a quiet repose in the mediocrity of their actual accomplishments, and of their current and conventional observations. There is much in this consideration to alarm many of those who, within the pale of a select and peculiar circle, look upon themselves as 150 SERMON VU. firmly seated in an enclosure of safety. They may be recognised by the society around them, as one of us ; and they may keep the even pace of acquirement along with them ; and they may wear all those marks of distinction which se- parate them from the general and unprofessing pubhc ; and, in respect of Church, and of sa- crament, and of family observances, and of ex- clusive preference for each other's conversa- tion, and of meetings for prayer and the other exercises of Christian fellowship, they may stand most decidedly out from the world, and most decidedly in with those of their own cast and their own denomination ; — and yet, in fact, there may be individuals, even of such a body as this, who, instead of looking upwards to the Being with whom they have to do, are looking no farther than to the testimony and example of those who are immediately around them; who count it enough that they are highly es- teemed among men ; who feel no earnestness, and put forth no strength in the pursuit of ^ lofty sanctification ; who are not living as in the sight of God, and are not in the habit of bringing their conduct into measurement with the principles of that great day, when God's righteousness shall be vindicated in the eyes of all his creatures; who, satisfied, in short, with the countenance of the people of their own communion, come under the charge of my text, that measuring themselves by themselves^ and comparing themselves among themselves, they are not wise. SERMON VII. 151 Now, though this habit of measuring ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves among ourselves, be charged by the Apostle, in the text, against the professors of a strict and pe- culiar Christianity ; it is a habit so universally exemplified in the world, and ministers such a deep and fatal security to the men of all cha- racters who hve in it, and establishes in their hearts so firm a principle of resistance against the humbling doctrines of the New Testament, that we trust we shall be excused if we leave out, for a time, the consideration of those who are within the limits of the Church, and dwell on the operation of this habit among those who are without these limits; and going beyond that territory of observation to'which the words now read would appear to restrict us, we shall attend to the effects of that principle in human nature which are there adverted to, in as far as it serves to fortify the human mind against an entire reception of the truths and the overtures of the Gospel. It may be remarked, by way of illustration, that the habit condemned in the text is an abundant cause of that vanity which is founded on a sense of our importance. If, instead of measuring ourselves by our companions and equals in society, we brought ourselves into measurement with our superiors, it might go far to humble and chastise our vanity. The rustic conqueror on some arena of strength or of dexterity, stands proudly elevated among 152 SERMON VII. his fellow-rustics who are around him. Place him beside the returned warrior, who can tell of the hazards, and the achievements, and the des- perations of the great battle in which he had shared the renown and the danger; and he will stand convicted of the humility of his own per- formances. The man who is most keen, and, at the same time, most skilful in the busy politics of his corporation, triumphs in the conscious- ness of that sagacity by which he has baffled and overpowered the devices of his many anta- gonists. But take him to the high theatre of Parliament, and bring him into fellowship with the man who has there won the mighty game of superiority, and he will feel abashed at the in- significance of his own tamer and homelier pre- tensions. The richest individual of the district struts throughout his neighbourhood in all the glories of a provincial eminence. Carry him to the metropolis of the empire, and he hides his diminished head under the brilliancy of rank far loftier than his own, and equipage more splendid than that by which he gathers from his surrounding tributaries, the homage of a re- spectful admiration. The principle of all this vanity was seen by the discerning eye of the Apostle. It is put down for our instruction in the text before us. And if we, instead of look- ing to our superiority above the level of our immediate acquaintanceship, pointed an eye of habitual observation to our inferiority be- neath the level of those in society who were SERMON VIL 153 more dtgnified and more accomplished than ourselves, — such a habit as this might shed a graceful humility over our characters, and save us from the pangs and the delusions of a vanity which was not made for man. And let it not be said of those, who, in the more exalted walks of Hfe, can look to few or to none above them, that they can derive no benefit from the principle of my text, because they are placed beyond the reach of its appHcation. It is true of him who is on the very pinnacle of hu- man society, that standing sublimely there, he can cast a downward eye on all the ranks and varieties of the world. But, though in the act of looking beneath him to men, he may ga- ther no salutary lesson of humility — the lesson should come as forcibly upon him as upon any of his fellow mortals, in the act of looking above him to God. Instead of comparing him- self with the men of this world, let him leave the world and expatiate in thought over the tracks of immensity,— let him survey the mighty apparatus of worlds scattered in such profusion over its distant regions ; let him bring the whole field of the triumphs of his ambition into measurement with the magnificence that is above him, and around him, — above all, let him rise through the ascending series of angels, and principalities, and powers, to the throne of the august Monarch on whom all is suspended,—*:!^ and then will the lofty imagination of his 20 IH SERMON VIL heart be cast down, and all vanity di^ •within him. Now, if all this be obviously true of that va- nity which is founded on a sense of our impor- tance, might it not be as true of that compla- cency which is founded on a sense of our worth ? vShould it not lead us to suspect the ground of this complacency, and to fear lest a similar delusion be misleading us into a false estimate of our own righteousness ? When we feel a sufficiency in the act of measuring our- selves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves among ourselves, is it not the average virtue of those around us that is the standard of measure- ment ? Do we not at the time, form our estimate of human worth upon the character of man as it actually is, instead of forming it upon the high standard of that pure and exalted law^ which tells us what the character ought to be ? Is it not thus that many are lulled into security, because they are as good or better than their neighbours ? This may do for earth, but the question we want to press is, will it do for Hea- ven ? It may carry us through life with a fair and equal character in society, and even when we come to die, it may gain us an epitaph upon our tombstones. But after death cometh the judgment; and in that awful day when judgment is laid to the line and righteous- !*ess to the plummet, every refuge of lies will be swept away, and every hiding-place of se- curity be laid open. SERMON VII. IT)/^ Under the influence of this delusion, thou- sands and tens of thousands are posting their infatuated way to a ruined and undone eternity. The good man of society lives on the applause and cordiality of his neighbours. He compares himself with his fellow-men ; and their testimony to the graces of his amiable, and upright, and honourable character, falls like the music of paradise upon his eiirs. And it were also the earnest of paradise, if these his flatterers and ad- mirers in time were to be his judges in the day of reckoning. But, alas ! they will only be his fellow-prisoners at the bar. The eternal Son of God Vill preside over the solemnities of that day. He will take the judgment upon him- self, and he will conduct it on his own lofty standard of examination, and not on the maxims or the habits of a world lying in wickedness, O ye deluded men ! who carry your heads so high, and look so safe and so satisfied amid the smooth and equal measurements of society, -do you ever think how you are to stand the admea- surement of Christ and of his angels ? and think you that the fleeting applause of mortals, sinful as yourselves, will carry an authority over the mind of your judge, or prescribe to him that so- lemn award which is to fix you for <'ternity ? In the prosecution of the following discourse. let us first attempt to expose the folly of mea- suring ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves amongst ourselves; and then poliit out the wisdom opposite to this folly, which is re- commended in the gospel. 156 SERMON Vll 1. The foil J of measuring ourselves by our- selves is a lesson which admits of many illus- trations. The habit is so universal. It is so strikingly exemplified, even among the most acknowledged outcasts from all that is worthy, and all that is respectable in general estimation. -There is not a congregated mass of human be- ings, associated in one common pursuit, or brought together by one common accident, among whom there is not established either some tacit or proclaimed morality, to the obser^ vance of which,orto the violation of which, there is awarded admiration or disgrace, by the voice of the society that is formetl by them. You cannot bring two or more human beings to act in concert without some conventional principle of right and wrong arising out of it, which either must be practically held in regard, or the concert is dissipated. And yet it may be al- together a concert of iniquity. It may be a concert of villany and injustice against the larger interests of human society. It may be a banded conspiracy against the peace and the property of the commonwealth ; and there may not be a member belonging to it who does not carry the stamp of outlawry upon his person, and who is not liable, and rightlj liable, to the penalties of an outraged government, against which he is bidding, by the whole habit of his life, a daily and systematic defiance. And jet even among such a class of the species as this, an enlightened observer of our nature will not SERMON VII. 157 fail to perceive a standard of morality, both re- cognized and acted upon by all its individuals, and in reference to which morality, there actu- ally stirs in many a bosom amongst them a very warm and enthusiastic feeling of obligation.-- and some will you find, who, by their devoted adherence to its maxims, earn among their com- panions all the distinctions of honour and of vir- tue,— and others who, by falling away from the principles of the compact, become the victims of a deep and general execration. And thus may the very same thing be perceived with them, that we see in the more general society of mankind— -a scale of character, and, corres- ponding to it, a scale of respectability, along which the members of the most wicked and worthless association upon earth may be ran- ged according to the gradation of such virtues as are there held in demand, and in reverence ; and thus there Avill be a feeUng of complacency, and a distribution of applause, and a conscious superiority of moral and personal attainment, and all this grounded on the habit of measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves amongst themselves. The first case of such an exhibition which we offer to your notice, comes so aptly in for the purpose of illustration, that homely and fa- miliar as it is, we cannot resist the introduction of it. We allude to the case of smugglers. These men, in as far, at least, as it respects one tie of allegiance, may be considered as com- 158 SERMON Vil. pletely broken loose from the government of their country. They have formed themselves into a plot against the interests of the pubHc re- venue, and it maybe generally said of them, that they have no feeling whatever of the criminality of their undertaking. On this point there is ut- terly wanting the sympathy of any common prin- ciple between the administrators of the law and the transgressors of the law, — and yet it w^ould be altogether untrue to nature and to experi- ence to say of the latter, that they are entire strangers to the feeling of every moral obliga- tion. They have a very strong sense of ob- ligation to each other. There are virtues amono"st them which serve to signalize certain members, and vices amongst them which doom to infamy certain other members of their own association. In reference to the duties which they owe to government, they may be dead to every impression of them. But in reference to those duties, on the punctual fulfilment of w^hich depends the success, or even the conti- nuance, of their system of operations, they may be most keenly and sensitively alive. They may speak of the informer who has abandoned them, with all the intensity of moral hatred and contempt ; and of the man, again, who never once swerved from his fidelity; of the man, who, with all the notable dexterity of his eva- sions from the vigilance that was sent forth to track and to discover him, was ever known to be open as day amongst the members of his SERMON VII. 159 own brotherhood ; of the man, who, with the unprincipledness of a most skih'ul and syste- matic falsehood, in reference to the agents and pursuers of the law, was the most trusty, and the most incorruptible, in reference to his fel- lows of the trade ; of the man who stands high- est amongst them in all the virtues of pledged and sworn companionship ; — why, of such a man will these roving mountaineers speak in terms of honest and h^rt-felt veneration : and nothing more is necessary, in order to throw a kind of chivalric splendour over him, than just to be told, along with his inflexible devotedness to the cause, of his heardy adventurers, and his hair-breadth miracles of escape, and his inexhaustible resources, and of the rapidity of his ever-suiting and ever-shifting contrivances, and of his noble and unquelled spirit of daring, and of the art and activity by which he has eluded his opponents, and of the unfaltering courage by which he has resisted them. We doubt not, that even in the history of this igno- minious traffic, there do occur such deeds and characters of unrecorded heroism; and still the men who carry it on, measuring themselves by themselves, may never think of the ignominy. They will enjoy the praise they have one of another, and care not for the distant blame that is cast upon them by the public voice. They will carry in their bosoms the swelling consciousness of worth, and be regaled by the home testimony of those who rvc about them ; 160 SERMON VII. and all this at the very time when, to the ge- neral community, they offer a spectacle of odi- ousness; all this at the very time, when the power and the justice of an incensed govern* ment are moving forth upon them. But another case still more picturesque, and, what is far better, still more subservient to the establishment of the lesson of our text, may be taken from another set of adventurers, hardier, and more ferocious, and more unprincipled than the former. We allude to the men of rapine; and who, rather than that their schemes of ra- pine should be frustrated, have so far overcome all the scruples and all the sensibihties of na- ture, that they have become men of blood. They live as commoners upon the world; and at large from those restraints, whether of feeling or of principle, which hold in security together ^ the vast majority of this world's families, they are looked at by general society with a revolt- ing sense of terror and of odiousness. And yet, among these monsters of the cavern, and prac- tised as they are in all the atrocities of the high- way, will you find a virtue of their own, and a high-toned morality of their own. Living as they do, in a state of emancipation from the law universal, still there is among them alawisoteri- cal,in doing homage to which, the hearts of these banditti actually glow with the movements of honourable principle; and the path of their con- duct is actually made to square with the confor- mities of right and honourable practice. Ex- SERMON VIL 161 traordinary as you may think it, the very habit of my text is in full operation among these very men, who have wandered so far from all that is deemed righteous in society; and disowning, as they do, our standard of principle altogether, they have a standard among themselves, on which they can adjust a scale of moral estima^ tion, and apply it in every exercise of judg- ment on the character of each individual who belongs to them. In reference to every devia- tion that is made by them from the general stan- dard of right, there is an entire obliteration of all their sensibilities,~and this is not the ground on which they ever think either of reproaching themselves, or of casting any imputation of dis- grace on their companions. But, in reference to their own particular standard of right, they are all awake to the enormity of every act of transgression against it, — and thus it is, that measuring themselves by themselves, and com- paring themselves amongst themselves, there is just with them as varied a distribution of praise and of obloquy as is to be met with on the face of any regular and well-ordered commonwealth. And who, we would ask, is the man among all these prowling outcasts ofnature, on whom the law of his country would inflict the most un- relenting vengeance? He who is most sig- nalized by the moralities of his order,— he who has gained by fidelity, and courage, and disinterested honour, the chieftainship of con- fidence and affection amongst them.-^he, the 21. 162 SERMON VII. foremost of all the desperadoes, on whose cha- racter perhaps the romance of generosity and truth is strangely blended with the stern bar- barities of his calling, — and who, the most admired among the members of his own bro- therhood, is, at the same time, the surest to bring down upon his person all the rigours and all the severities of the judgment-seat. Let us now follow with the eye of our ob- servation, a number of these transgressors into another scene. Let us go into the place of their confinement ; and, in this receptacle of many criminals, with all their varied hues of guilt and of depravity, we shall perceive the habit of my text in full and striking exem- plification. The murderer stands lower in the scale of character than the thief The first is worse than the second — and you have only to reverse the terms of the comparison, that you may be enabled to say how the second is better than the first Thus, even in this repository of human worthlessness, we meet with gradations of character ; with the worse and the better and the best ; with an ascending and a descending scale, which runs in continuity, from the one who stands upon its pinnacle, to the one who is the deepest and most determined in wicked- ness amongst them. It is utter ignorance of our nature to conceive that this moral gradation is not fully and frequently in the minds of the criminals themselves, — that there is not, even here, the habit of each measuring himself with. SERMON Vrr. 163 his fellow-prisoners around him, and of some soothed by the consciousness of a more un- tainted character, and rejoicing over it with a feehng of secret elevation. They, in truth, know themselves to be the best of their kind, — and this knowledge brings a complacency along with it, — and, even in this mass of profligacy, there swells and kindles the pride of superior attainments. But there is at least one delusion, from which one and all of them stand exempt- ed. The very best of them, however much he may be regaled by the inward sense of his advantage over others, knows, that in reference to the law, he is not on a footing of merit, but on a footing of criminality, — knows, that though he will be the most gently dealt with, and that on him the lightest penalty will fall, yet still he stands to his judge and to his country, in the re- lation of a condemned malefactor — feels, how preposterous it were, if, on the plea of being the most innocent of the whole assemblage, he was to claim, not merely exemption from punishment, but the reward of some high and honourable distinction at the hands of the magistrate. He is fully aware of the gap that lies between him and the administrators of justice, — is sensible, that though he deserves to be beaten witli fewer stripes than others, yet still, that, in the eye of the law, he deserves to be beaten; and that he stands at as hopeless a distance, as the most depraved of his fellows, from a sentence of complete justification. ii)i SERMON VII. . Let us, last of all, go along with these male- factors to the scene of then' banishment. Let us view them as the members of a separated com- munity : and we shall widely mistake it, if we think, that in the settlement of New South Wales, there is not the same shading of moral Tariety, there is not the same gradation of cha- racter, there is not the s^me scale of reputation, there is not the same distribution of respect, there is not the same pride of loftier principle, and debasement of more shameful and abandon- ed profligacy, there is not the same triumph of conscious superiority on the one hand, and the same crouching sense of unworthiness on the other, which you find in the more decent, and virtuous, and orderly society of Europe. Within the limits of this colony there exists a tribunal of public opinion, from which praise and po- pularity, and reproach, are awarded in various proportions among all the inhabitants. And without the limits of this colony there exists another tribunal of public opinion, by the voice of which an unexcepted stigma of exclu- sion and disgrace is cast upon every one of them. Insomuch, that the same individual may, by a nearer judgment, be extolled as the best and the most distinguished of all who are around him, — and, by a more distant judgment, he may have all the ignominy of an outcast laid upon his person and his character. He may, at one and the same time, be regaled by the applause of one society, and held in right- SERMON Vll. 16:) iul execration by another society. In the for- mer, he may have the deference of a positive regard rendered to him for his virtues,— while, from the litter he is justly exiled bj the hate- ful contamination of his vices. And in him do we behold the instructive picture of a man, vrho,atthebar of his own neighbourhood, stands the highest in moral estimation, — while, at a higher bar, he has had a mark of foulest iocno- miny stamped upon him. We want not to shock the pride or the deli- cacy of your feelings. But, on a question so high as that of your eternity, we want to extricate you from the power of every vain and bewilder- ing delusion. We want to urge upon you the lesson of Scripture, that this world differs from a prison house, only in its being a more spa- cious receptacle of sinners, — and that there is not a wider distance, in point of habit and of judgment, between a society of convicts, and the general community of mankind, than there is between the whole community of our species, and the society of that paradise, from which, under the apostacy of our fallen nature, we have been doomed to live in dreary alienation. We refuse not to the men of our world the posses- sion of many high and honourable virtues : but let us not forget, that amongst the marauders of the highway, we hear too of inflexible faith, and devoted friendship, and splendid genero- sity. We deny not, that there exist amf)ng our species, as much truth and as much honesty, 166 SERMON VIL as serve to keep society together : but a mea- sure of the very same principle is necessary, in order to perpetuate and to accomplish the end of the most unrighteous combinations. W e deny not, that there flourishes on the face of our earth a moral diversity of hue and of cha^ racter, and that there are the better and the best who have signalized themselves above the level of its general population : but so it is in the malefactor's dungeon, and as there, so here, may a positive sentence of condemnation be the lot of the most exalted individual. We deny not, that there are many in every neigh- bourhood, to whose character, and whose worth, the cordial tribute of admiration is awarded ; but the very same thing may be witnessed amongst the outcasts of every civilized ter- ritory, — and what they are, in reference to the country from which they have been exiled, we may be, in reference to the whole of God's un- fallen creation. In the sight of men we may be highly esteemed, — and we may be an abomi- nation in the sight of angels. We may receive homage from our immediate neighbours for all the virtues of our relationship with them, — while our relationship with God may be utterly dissolved, and its appropriate virtues may nei- ther be recognized nor acted on. There may emanate from our persons a certain beauteous- ness of moral colouring on those who are around us, — but when seen through the universal mo- rality of God's extended and all-pervading SERMON VII. 167 government, we may look as hateful as the out- casts of felony, — and living, as we do,' in a re- bellious province, that has . broken loose from the community of God's loyal and obedient worshippers, we may, at one and the same time, be surrounded by the cordialities of an ap- proving fellowship, and be frowned upon by the supreme judicatory of the universe. At one and the same time, we may be regaled by the incense of this world's praise, and be the objects of Heaven's most righteous execration. But is this the real place, it may be asked, that our world occupies in the moral universe of God ? The answer to this question may be obtained either out of the historical informations of Scripture, or out of a survey that may be made of the actual character of man, and a com- parison that may be instituted between this character and the divine law. We can conceive nothing more uniform and more decisive than the testimony of the Bible, when it tells us that however fair some may be in the eyes of men, yet that all are guilty before God ; that in his eyes none are righteous, no not one: that he, who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity, finds out iniquity in every one of us ; that there is none who understandeth, and none who seeketh after God; that however much we may compare ourselves amongst ourselves, and found a complacency upon the exercise, yet that we have altogether gone out of the way; that liQwever distinctly we may retain, even in 168 SERMON VIL the midst of this great moral rebellion, our re- lative Superiorities ovet each other, there is a wide and a general departure of the species from God ; that on^ and all of us have deeply revolted against him ; that the taint of a most inveterate spiritual disease has overspread all the individuals of all the families upon earth ; insomuch, that the heart of man is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked, and the imaginations of his thoughts are only evil, and that continually. The fall of Adam is represented, in the Bi- ble, as that terribly decisive event, on vrhich took place this deep and fatal unhingement of the moral constitution of our species. From this period the malady has descended, and the whole history of our world gives evidence to its state of banishment from the joys and the communications of paradise. Before the en- trance of sin did God and man walk in sweet companionship together, and saw each other face to face in the security of a garden. A lit- tle further down in the history, we meet with another ol God's recorded manifestations. We read of his descent in thunder upon mount Si- nai. O'w^hat a change from the free and fear- less intercourse of Eden ! God, though sur- rouided by a people whom he had himself se- lected, here sits, if we may use the expression, on a throite of awful and distant ceremony; and the lifting of his mio^hty voice scattered dismay among the thousands of Israel. When SERMON VII. 165 he looked now on the children of men, he looked at them with an altered countenance. The dajs were, when they talked together in the lovely scenes of paradise as one talketh with a friend. But, on the top of Sinai, he wraps himself in storms, and orders to set bounds about the mount, lest the people should draw near, and God should break forth upon them. But we have an evidence to our state of ba- nishment from God, which is nearer home. We have it in our own hearts. The habitual atti- tude of the inner man is not an attitude of sub- ordination to God* The feeling of allegiance to him is practically and almost constantly away from us. All that can give value to our obedi- ence, in the sight of an enlightened Spirit who looks to motive, and sentiment, and principle, has constitutionally no place, and no residence in our characters. We are engrossed by other anxieties than anxiety to do the will, and to pro- mote the honour, of him who formed us. We are animated by other affections altogether, than love to him, whose right hand preserves us continually. That Being by whom we are so fearfully and wonderfully made; whose up- holding presence it is that keeps us in life, and in movement, and in the exercise of all our faculties ; who has placed us on the theatre of all our enjoyments, and claims over his own creatures the ascendency of a most rightful authority ; — that surely is the Being with whom we have to do. ^nd yet, when we take ac' 22 170 SERMOiN VIL c^»unt of our thoughts and of our doings, how little of God is there ! In the random play and exhibition of such feelings as instinctively be- long to us, we may gather around us the admi- ration of our fellows : and so it is in a colony of exiled criminals. But as much wanting there, as is the homage of loyalty to the go- vernment of their native land ; so much want- ing here, is the homage of any deference or inward regard, to the government of Heaven. And yet this is the very principle of all that obedience, which Heaven can look upon. If it be true that no obedience is rewardable by God, but that which has respect unto God, then this must be the essential point on which binges the difference between a rebel, and a loyal subject to the supreme Lawgiver. The requirement we live under is to do all things to bis glory ; and this is the measure of prin- ciple and of performance that will be set over you : and tell us, ye men of civil and relative propriety, who, by exemplifying in the eye of vour fellows such virtue, as may be exemplified by the outcasts of banishment, have shed around your persons the tiny lustre of this world's mo- ralities ; tell us, how you will be able to stand such a severe and righteous application.^ The measure by which we compare ourselves with ourselves, is not the measure of the sanc- tuary. When the judge comes to take account of us, he will come fraught with the maxims of a celestial jurisprudence, and his question SERMON VII. 171 will be, not, what have you done at the shrine of popularity, — not, what have you done to sus- tain a character amongst men, — not, what have you done at the mere impulse of sensibilities however amiable, or ofnative principles however upright, and elevated, and manly, — but what have you done unto me ? how much of God, and of God's will, was there in the principle of your doings ? This is the heavenly measure, and it w ill set aside all your earthly measures and comparisons. It will sweep away all these refuges of lies The man whose accomplish- ments of character, however lively, were all so- cial, and worldly, and relative, will hang his head in confusion when the utter wickedness of his pretensions is thus laid open, — when the God who gave him every breath, and endowed him with every faculty, inquires after his share ot" i-everence and acknowledgment, — when he tells him from the judgment-seat, I was the Being with whom you had to do, and yet in the vast multiplicity of your doings, I was sel- dom or never thought of, — when he convicts him of habitual forgetfulness of God, and set- ting aside all the paltry measurements which men apply in their estimates of one another, he brings the high standard of Heaven's law, and Heaven's allegiance tabear upon them. It must be quite palpable to any man who has seen much of life, and still more if he has travelled extensively, and witnessed the varied complexions of morality that obtain in distant 172 SERMON VII. societies,-— it must be quite obvious to such a man, how i^eadily the moral feeling, in each of them, accommodates itself to the general state of practice and observation, — that the practices of one country, for which there is a most com-^ placent toleration, would be shuddered at as so many atrocities in another country, — that in every given neighbourhood, the sense of right and of wrong, becomes just as fine or as obtuse as to square with its average purity, and its average humanity, and its average uprightness, — that what would revolt the public feeling of a retired parish in Scotland a^^ gross licentious- ness or outrageous cruelty, might attach no dis- grace whatever to a residenter in some coloni- al settlement, — that, nevertheless, in the more corrupt and degraded of the two communities, there is a scale of differences, a range of cha- racter, along which are placed the comparative stations of the disreputable, and the passable, and the respectable, and the superexcellent ; and yet it is a very possible thing, that if a man in the last of these stations w ere to import all his habits and all his profligacies into his native land, superexcellent as he may be abroad, at home he would be banished from the general association of virtuous and well ordered families. Now all we ask of you is, to transfer this consideration to the matter be- fore us, — to think how possible a thing it is, that the moral principle of the world at large, may have sunk to a peaceable and approving SERMON VII. 173 acquiescence in the existing practice of the world at large, — that the security which is in- spired by the habit of measuring ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves amongst ourselves, may therefore be a delusion altoge- ther, — that the very best member of socrety upon earth, may be utterly unfit for the society of heaven, that the morality which is current here, may depend upon totally another set of priniples from the morality which is held to be indispensable there ;— and when we gather these principles from the book of God's reve- lation,— when we are told that the law of the two great commandments is, to love the Lord our God with all our strength, and heart, and mind, and to bear the same love to our neigh- bour that we do to ourselves,— the argument advances from a conjecture to a certainty, that every inhabitant of earth, when brought to the bar of Heaven's judicature, is altogether want- ing ; and that unless some great moral renova- tion take effect upon him, he can never be ad- mitted within the limits of the empire of right- eousness. SERMON VIII. Christ the wisdom of god. ' Christ the wisdom of God." 1 Corinthians i. 24._ We cannot but remark of the Bible, how uni= formly and how decisively it announces itself in all its descriptions of the state and character of man, — how, without offering to palliate the mat- ter, it brings before us the totality of our aliena- tion, — ho wit represents us to be altogether bro- ken off from our allegiance to God, — and how it fears not, in the face of those undoubted di- versities of character which exist in the world, to assert of the whole world, that it is guilty before him. And if we would only seize on what may be called the elementary principle of guilt, — if we would only take it along with us, that guilt, in reference to God, must consist in the defection of our regard, and our reverence from him, — if we would only open our eyes to the undoubted fact, that there may be such an utter defection, and yet there may be many an amiable, and many a graceful exhibition, both SERMON VIII. 175 of feeling and of conduct, in reference to those who are around us, — then should we recognize, in the statements of the Bible, a vigorous, dis- cerning, and intelligent view of human nature, — an unfaltering announcement, of what that nature essentially is, under all the plausibilities which serve to disguise it, — and such an in- sight, in fact, into the secrecies of our inner man, as if carried home by that Spirit, whose office it is to apply . the word with power into the conscience, is enough, of itself, to stamp upon this book, the evidence of the Divinity which inspired it. But it is easier far to put an end to the resis- tance of the understanding, than to alarm the fears, or to make the heart soft and tender, un- der a sense of its guiltiness, or to prompt the inquiry, — if all those securities, within the en- trenchments of which I want to take my quiet and complacent repose, are thus driven in, where in the whole compass of nature or re- velation can any effectual security be found ? It may be easy to find our way amongst all the complexional varieties of our nature, to its ra- dical and pervading ungodliness ; and thus to carry the acquiescence of the judgment in some extended demonstration about the utter sinfulness of the species. But it is not so easy to point this demonstration towards the bosom of any individual, — to gather it up, as it were, from its state of diffusion over the whole field of humanity, and send it, with all its energies J 76 SERMOJN VIll. concentered to a single heart, in the form of a ^harp, and humbhng, and terrifying convic- tion, — to make it enter the conscience of some one listener, like an arrow sticking fast, —or, when the appalling picture of a whole world lying in wickedness, is thus presented to the understanding of a general audience, to make each of that audience mourn apart over his own wickedness ; just as when, on the day of judgment, though all that is visible be shaking, and dissolving, and giving way, each despair- ing eye-witness shall mourn apart over the re- collection of his own guilt, over the prospect of his own rueful and undone eternity. And yet, if this be not done, nothing is done. The lesson of the text has come to you in word only, and not in power. To look to the truth in its generality, is one thing; to look to your own separate concern in it, is another. What we want is that each of you shall turn his eye homewards; that each shall purify his own heart from the influence of a delusion which we pronounce to be ruinous ; that each shall beware of leaning a satisfaction, or a triumph, on the comparison of himself with corrupt and exiled men, whom sin has degraded into out- casts from the presence of God, and the joys of paradise; that each of you shall look to the measure of God's law, so that when the com- mandment comes upon you, in the sense of its exceediiior broadness, a sense of your sin, and of your death in sin, may come along with it. SERMON Vm. 177 •• Without the commandment I was alive,*' says the Apostle; "but when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died." Be assured, that if the utterance of such truth in your hear- ing, impress no personal earnestness, and lead to no personal measures, and be followed up by no personal movements, then to you it is as a sounding brass and as a tinkling cymbal. The preacher has been beating the air. That great Agent, whose revealed office it is to con- vince of sin, has refused to go along with him. Another influence altogether, than that which is salutary and saving, has been sent into your bosom; and the glow of the truth universal lias deafened or intercepted the application of the truth personal, and of the truth particular. This leads us to the second thing proposed in our last discourse, under which we shall attempt to explain the wisdom opposite to that folly of measuring ourselves by ourselves, and comparing ourselves among ourselves, which we have already attempted to expose. The first step is to give up all satisfaction with yourselves, on the bare ground, that your conduct comes up to the measure of human character, and human reputation around you. This consideration may be of importance to your place in society; but, as to your place in the favour of God, it is utterly insignificant. The moral differences which obtain in a com- munity of exiles, are all quite consistent with the entire obliteration amongst them, o{ the 23 178 SERxMON Vlll. allegiance that is due to the government of their native land. And the moral differences which obtain in the world, may, in every way, be as consistent with the fact, that one and all of u^, in our state of nature, are alienated from God by wicked works. And, in like manner, as convicts may be all alive to a sense of their reciprocal obligations, while dead in feeling and in principle, to the supreme obligation un- der which they lie to the sovereign, — so may we, in reference to our fellowmen, have a sense of rectitude, and honour, and compassion,while^ in reference to God, we may labour under the entire extinction of every moral sensibility, — so that the virtues which signalize us, may, in the language of some of our old divines, be nei- ther more nor less than splendid sins. With the possession of these virtues, we may not merely be incurring every day the guilt of tres- passing and sinning against our Maker in hea- ven; but devoid, as we are, of all apprehension of the enormity of this, we may strikingly real- ize the assertion of the Bible, that weare dead in trespasses and sins. And we pass our time in all the tranquiUity of death. We say peace, when there is no peace. Though in a state of disruption from God, we live as securely and as inconsiderately as if there were no question and no controversy betwixt us. About this whole matter, there is within us, a spirit of heaviness and of deep slumber. We lie fast asleep on the brink of an unprovided eternity, — and, if possi- SERMON VIll. 179 hie to awaken you, let us urge you to compare, not your own conduct with that of acquain- tances and neighbours, but to compare your own finding of the ungodliness that is in your heart with the doctrine of God's word about it — to bring down the loftiness of your spirit to its humbling declarations — to receive it as a faith- ful saying, that man is lost by nature, and that unless there be some mighty transition, in his history, from a state of nature to a state of sal- vation, the wrath of God abideth on him. The next inquiry comes to be. What is this transition ? Tell me the step I should take, and I will take it. It is not enough, then, that you exalt upon your own person the degree of those virtues, by which you have obtained a credit and a distinction among men. It is not enough, that you throw a brighter and a lovlierhue over your social accomplishments. It is not enough, that you multiply the offerings of your charity, or observe a more rigid compliance, than hereto- fore with all the requisitions of justice. All this you may do, and yet the great point, on which your controversy with God essentially .hinges, may not be so much as entered upon. All this you may do, and yet obtain no nearer approximation to Him whosittethon tlie throne, than the outlaws of an offended government for their fidelities to each other. To the eye of man you may be fairer than before, and in civil estimation be greatly more righteous than be*^ fore, — and yet, with the unquelled spirit of im~ 180 SERMON Vlli. piety within you, and as habitual an indifference as ever to all the subordinating claims of the divine will over your heart and your conduct, you may stand at as wide a distance from God as before. And besides, how are we to dispose of the whole guilt of your past iniquities ? Whether is it the malefactor or the Lawgiver who is to arbitrate this question ? God may re- mit our sins ; but it is for him to proclaim this. God may pass them over ; but it is for him to issue the deed of amnesty. God may have found out a way whereby, in consistency with his own character, and with the stability of his august government, he may take sinners into re- conciliation ; but it is for him both to devise and to publish this way ; — and we must just do what convicts do ; when they obtain a mitigation or a cancelment of the legal sentence under which they lie, — we must passively accept of it, on the terms of the deed, — we must look to the war- rant as issued by the sovereign, and take the boon or fulfil the conditions, just as it is there presented to us. The question is between us and God; and, in the adjustment of this ques- tion, we must look singly to the expression of his will, and feel that it is with him, and with his authority, that we have exclusively to do. In one word, we must wait his own revelation, and learn from his own mouth how it is that he would have us to come nigh unto him. Let us go then to the record. " No man cometh unto the Father but through the Son.'' SERMON Vm. 181 ^' There is no other name given under heaven, but the name of Jesus, whereby we can be sav- ed." " Without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sin; and "God hath- set forth Christ to be a propitiation through faith in his blood." " He was once offered to bear the sins of many,— and " became sin for us, though he knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." '• God is in Christ reconciling, the world unto himself, and not imputing unto them their trespasses." i' Justified by faith, we have peace with God through Jesus Christ our Lord ;"— " and we be- come the children of God, through the faith that is in Christ Jesus." We are " reconciled to God by the death of his Son,"— "and by his obedience are many made righteous,"— and « where sin abounded, grace did much more abound" These verses sound foolishness to many ; but the cross of Christ is fooUshness to those that perish. They appear to them invest- ed with all the mysteriousness of a dark and hid- den saying ; but if this Gospel be hid, it is hid to them which are lost. They have eyes that they cannot see the wondrous things contani- ed in this book of God's communication ; but they have minds whichbeHevenot,because they are blinded by the god of this world, lest the light of the glorious Gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine into them. And here we cannot but insist on the utter hopelessness of their circumstances, who hear 182 SERMON VIII. these overtures of reconciliation, but will not lis- ten to them. Theirs is just the case of rebels turning their back on a deed of grace and of amnesty. We are quite confident in stating it to be the stubborn experience of human nature, that all who reject Christ, as he is offered in the Gospel, persist in that radical ungodliness of character on which the condemnation of our world mainly and essentially rests. And as they thus refuse to build their security on the founda- tion of his merits, — what, we would ask, is the other foundation on which they build it? If ever they think seriously of the matter, or feel any concern about a foundation on which they might rest their confidence before God, they con- ceive it to lie in such feelings, and such hu- manities, and such honesties, as make them even with the world, or as elevate them to a certain degree abovethelevelof the world's population. These are the materials of the foundation on which they build. It is upon the possession of virtues which in truth have not God for their object, that they propose to support in the presence of God the attitude of fearlessness It is upon the testimony of fellow-rebels that they brave the judgment of the Being who has pronounced of them all, that they have deeply revolted against him. And all this in the face of God's high prerogative, to make and to pub- lish his own overtures. All this in contempt of that Mediator, whom he has appointed. All this in resistance to the authentic deed of grace SERMON VIII. 183 and of forgiveness, which has been sent to our world, and from which we gather the full as- surance of God's willingness to be reconciled ; but, at the same time, are expressly bound down to that particular way in which he hath chosen to dispense reconciliation. Who does not see, that, in these circumstances, the guilt of sin is fearfully aggravated on the part of sinners, by their rejection of the Gospel ? Who does not see, that thus to refuse the grant of everlasting life in the terms of the grant, is just to set an irretrievable seal upon their own condemnation ? Who does not see, that, in the act of declining to take the shelter which is held out to them, they vainly imagine, that God will let down his approbation, to such performances as are utterly devoid of any spirit of devout or dutiful allegiance to the Law- giver ? This is, in fact, a dehberate posting of themselves, and that more firmly and more obstinately than ever, on the ground of their rebellion, — and let us no longer wonder, then, at the terms of that alternative of which we read so often in the Bible. We there read, that if we believe we shall be saved; but we also read, that if we believe not, we shall be damned. We are there told of the great salvation ; but how shall we escape, if we neglect it.-^ We are there invited to lay hold of the Gospel, as the savour of life unto life : but, if w^e refuse the invita- tion, it shall be to us the savour of death unto death. The Gospel is there freely proclaimed 184 SERMON VHI. to us, for our acceptance ; but if we will not obey the Gospel, we shall be punished with ever- lasting destruction from the presence of the Saviour's power. We are asked to kiss the Son while he is in the way ; but if we do not, the al- ternative is that he will be angry, and that his wrath will burn against us. He is revealed to us as a sure rock, on which, if we lean we shall not be confounded : but if we shift our depen- dence away from it, it will fall upon us and grind us to powder. And this alternative, so far from a matter to be wondered at, appears resolvable into a principle that might be easily comprehended. God is the party sinned against: and if he have the will to be reconciled, it is surely for him to prescribe the way of it : and this he has actually done in the revelation of the New Testament : and whether he give a reason for the way or not, certain it is, that in order to give it accomplishment, he sent his eternal Son into our world ; and this descent was accom- panied with such circumstances of humiliation, and conflict, and deep suffering, that heaven looked on with astonishment, and earth was bidden to rejoice, because of her great salva- tion. It is enough for us to know that God lavished on this plan the riches of a wisdom that is unsearchable ; that, in the hearing of sin- ful men, he has proclaimed its importance and its efficacy ; that every Gospel messenger felt himself charged, with tidings pregnant of joy, SERMON VIII. 185 and of mighty deliverance to the world. And we ask you just to conceive, in these circum- stances, what effect it should have on the mind of the insulted Sovereign, if the world, instead of responding, with grateful and delighted wel- come, to the message, shall either nauseate its terms, or, feeling in them no significancy, shall turn with indifference away from it ? Are we at all to wonder if the King, very wroth with the men of such a world, shall at length send his ar- mies to destroy it ? Do you think it likely that the sameGod,who, after we had brokenhis com- mandment, was willing to pass by our transgres- sions, will be equally willing to pass them by, after we have thus despised the proclamation of his mercy; after his forbearance and his long- suffering have been resisted ; and that scheme of pardon, with the weight and the magnitude of which angels appear to labour in amazement, is received by the very men for whom it was devised, as a thing of no estimation ? Surely, if there had been justice in the simple and im- mediate punishment of sin — this justice will be discharged instill brighter manifestation on him, who, in the face of such an embassy, holds out in his determination to brave it. And, if it be a righteous thing in God to avenge every viola- tion of his law, how clearly and how irresistibly righteous will it appear, when, on the great day of his wrath, he taketh vengeance On those who have added to the violation of his Kw, the re- jection of the Gospel ! 24 IH6 SERMOiN VIIL But what is more than this — God hath con- descended to make known to us a reason, for that peculiar way of reconciliation, which he hath set before us. It is that he might be just, while the justiiier of those who beheve in Jesus, In the dispensation of his mercy, he had to pro- vide for the dignity of his throne. He had to guard the stabihty of his truth, and of his right- eousness. He had to pour the lustre of a high and awful vindication, over the attributes of a nature that is holy and unchangeable. He had to make peace on earth and good will to men meet and be at one, with glory to God in the highest ; and for this purpose did the eternal Son pour out his soul an offering for sin, and by his obedience unto death, bring in an ever- lasting righteousness. It'is through the channel of this great expiation that the guilt of every believer is washed away; and it is through the imputed merits of him with whom the Fathef was well pleased, that every believer is admit- led to the rewards of a perfect obedience. Con- ceive any man of this world to reject the offers of reward and forgiveness in this way, and to look for them m another. Conceive him to chal- lenge the direct approbation of his Judge, on the measure of his own worth, and his own performances, and to put away from him that righteousness of Christ, in the measure of ^vhich there is no short-comiiig. Is he not, by this attitude, holding out against God, and that too on a question in which the justice of God SERMON VIIL 187 stands committed against him .'^ Is not the poor sinner of a day eiitering into a fearful con- troversy, with all the plans, and all the perfec- tions of the Eternal ? Might not you conceive every attribute of the Divinity, gathering into a frown of deeper indignation against the da- ringness of him, who thus demands the favour of the Almighty on some plea of his own, and resolutely declines it on that only plea, under which the acceptance of the sinner can be in harmony with the glories of God's holy and in- violable character ? Surely, if we have fallen short of the obedience of his law, and so short, as to have renounced altogether that godliness which imparts to obedience its spiritual and substantial quality, — then do w^e aggravate the enormity of our sin, by building our hope before God on a foundation of sin ? To sin is to defy God : but the very presumption that he will smile complacency upon it, involves in it an- other, and a still more deliberate attack upon his government; and all its sanctions, and all its severities, are let loose upon us in greater force and abundance than before, if we either rest upon our own virtue, or mix up this pollu^ ted ingredient w ith the righteousness of Christ, and refuse our single, entire, and undivided re- liance on him, who alone has magnified the law and made it honourable. But such, if we may be allowed the expres- sion, is the constitution of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, that, in proportion to the terror which it 188 SERMON VIII holds out to those who neglect it, is the securi- ty that it provides to all, who flee for refuge to the hope which is set before them. Paul un- derstood this well, when, though he proiited over many of his equals in his own nation, — when though had he measured himself by them, he might have gathered from the comparison a feeling of proud superiority, — when though in all that was counted righteous amongst his fel- lows, he signalized himself in general estima- tion, — yet he willingly renounced a dependence upon all, that he might win Christ, and be found in him, not having his own righteousness which was of the law, but that righteousness which is through the faith of Christ, even the righteousness which is of God by faith. He felt the force of the alternative, between the former and the latter righteousness. He knew that the one admitted of no measurement with the other; and that whatever appearance of worth it had in the eyes of men, when brought to their re- lative and earthly standard, it was reduced to nothing, and worse than nothing, when brought to the standard of Heaven's holy and unaltera- ble law. Jesus Christ has in our nature fulfil- led this law; and it is in the righteousness which he thus wrought, that we are invited to stand before God. You do not then take in a full impres'sion of Gospel security, if you only believe that God is merciful, and has forgiven you. You are called further to believe, that God is righteous, and has justified you. You SERMON Vlir. 189 have a warrant to put on the righteousness of. Christ as a robe and as a diadem, and to go to the throne of grace with the petition of, Look upon me in the face of him who hath fulfilled all righteousness. You are furnished with such a measure of righteousness as God can accept, without letting down a single attribute which belongs to him. The truth, and the justice, and the holmes, which stands in such threat- ening array against the sinner who is out of Christ, now form into a shield and a hiding- place around him. And while he who trusts in the general mercy of God does so at the expense of his whole character, he who trusts in the mercy of God, which hath appeared unto all men through the Saviour, offers in that act of confidence an homage to every perfec- tion of the Divinity, and has every perfection of the Divinity upon his side. And thus it is, that under the economy of redemption, we now read, not merely of God being merciful, but of God being just and faithful in forgiving our sins, and in cleansing us from all our unright- eousness. Thus much for what may be called the judi- cial ris;ht€ousn€SS, with which every believer is invested by having the merits of Christ imput- ed to him through faith. But this faith is something more than a name. It takes up a positive residence in the mind as a principle. It has locality and operation there, and has either no existence at all, or by its purifying 190 SERMON VIU. and reforming influence on the holder of it, does it invest him also with a personal righteousness. Now, to apply the conception of our text to this personal righteousness, the first thing we would say of it is, that it admits of no measure- ments whatever with the social worth, or the moral virtue, or any other of the personal ac- complishments of character, which may belong to those who have not the faith of the Gospel. Faith accepts of the offered reconciliation, and moves away from the alienated heart those sus- picions, and aversions, and fears, which kept man asunder from his God. We would not say, then, of the personal righteousness of a believ- er, that it consisted in a higher degree of that virtue which may exist in a lower degree with him who is not a believer. It consists in the dawn, and the progress, and the perfecting of a virtue, which, before he was a beHever, had no existence whatever. It consists in the pos- session of a character, of which, previous to his acceptance of Christ, he had not the smallest feature of reality; though to the external eye^ there may have been some features of resem- blance. The principle of Christian sanctifica- tion, which, if we were to express it by another name, we would call devotedness to God, is no more to be found in the unbelieving world, than the principle of an allegiance to their rightful sovereign, is to be found among the out- casts of banishment. It is not by any stretch- mg out of the measuiii of your former virtues. SERMON VIII. 191 then, that you can attain this principle. There needs to be originated within you a new virtue altogether. It is not by the fostering of that which is old, — it is by the creation of some- thing new, that a man comes to have the per- sonal righteousness of a disciple of the New Testament. It is by giving existence to that which formerly had no existence. And let us no longer wonder, then, at the magnitude of the terms which are employed in the Bible, to denote the change, the personal change, which, in point of character, and affection, and prin- ciple, takes place on all who become meet for the inheritance of the saints. It is there called life from the dead, and a new birth, and a total renovation, — all old things are said to be done away, and all things to become new. With many it is a w^onder how a change of such to- tality and of such magnitude, should be ac- counted as indispensable to the good and cre- ditable man of society, as to the sunken profli- gate. But if the one and the other are both dead to a sense of their Lawgiver in heaven, — then both need to be made alive unto him. With both there must be the power and the re- ality of a spiritual resurrection. And after this great transition has been made, it will be found that the virtues of the new state, and those of the old state, cannot be brought to any common standard of measurement at all. The one dis- tances the other by a wide and impassable in- terval There is all the difference in point of 192 SERMON Vlll. principle between a man of the world and a new creature in Christ, that there is between him who has the Spirit of God, and him who has it not, — and all the difference in point of performance, that there is between him who is without Christ, and can therefore do nothings and him who can do all things through Christ strengthening him. There is a new principle now, which formerly had no operation, even that of godliness, — and a new influence now, even that of the Holy Ghost, given to the pray- ers of the believer ;--and under these provisions will he attain a splendour and an energy of character, with which, the better and the best of this world can no more be brought into com- parison, than earth will compare with heaven, or the passions and the frivolities of time, with the pure ambition and the lofty principles of eternity. And let it not be said, that the transforma- tion of which we are now speaking, instead of being thus entire and universal, consists only with a good man of the world in the addition of one virtue, to his previous stock of many virtues. We admit that he had justice before, and humanity before, and courteousness before, and that the godliness which he had not before, is only one virtue. But the station which it asserts, among the other virtues, is a station of supreme authority. It no sooner takes its place among them, than it animates them all, and subordinates them all. It sends forth SERMON VHl. 193 among them a new and pervading quality^ which makes them essentially different from what they were before. I may take daily ex- ercise from a regard to my health, and by so doing I may deserve the character of a man of prudence ; or I may take daily exercise apart from this consideration altogether, and because it is the accidental wish of my parents that I should do so : and thus may 1 deserve the cha- racter of a man of filial piety. The external habit is the same ; but under the one principle, the moral character of this habit is totally and essentially different from what it is under the other principle. Yet the difference here^ is, most assuredly, not greater than is the differ- ence between the justice of a good man of society, and the justice of a Christian disci- ple. In the former case, it is done unto others, or done unto himself In the latter case, it is done unto God. The frame-work of his outer doings is animated by another spirit altogether. There is the breath of another life in it. The inscription of Holiness to God stands engraven on the action of the believer; and if this cha- racter of holiness be utterly effaced from the corresponding action of the good man of soci- ety, then, surely, in character, in wortli, in spi- ritual and intelligent estimation, there is the utmost possible diversity between the two ac-- tions. So that, should the most upright and amiable man upon earth embrace the Gospel faith, and become the subject of the Gospel 25 194 SERMON VIII. regeneration, — it is true of him, too, that all did things are done away, and that all things have become new. Thus it is, that while none of the Christian virtues can be made to come into measurement with any of what may be called the constitu- tional virtues, in respect of their principle, be- cause the principle of the one set differs from that of the other set, in kind as well as in de- gree, yet there are certain corresponding vir- tues in each of the classes, which might be brought together into measurement, in respect of visible and external performance. And it is a high point of obligation with every disciple of the faith, so to sustain his part in this com- petition, as to show forth the honour of Chris- tianity ; to prove by his own personal history in the world, how much the morality of grace out^ strips the morality of nature ; to evince the su- perior lustre and steadiness of the one, when compared with the frail, and fluctuating, and desultory character of the other; and to make it clear to the eye of experience, that it is only under the peculiar government of the doctrine of Christ, that all which is amiable in human ivorth, becomes most lovely, and all which i& justly held in human admiration, becomes most great, and lofty, and venerable. The Bible tells us to provide things honest in the sight of men, as well as of God. It tells us, that upon the person of every Christian, the features of excellence should stand so legibly engraven. SERMON VIII. 195 that, as a living epistle, he might be seen and read of all men. It is true, there is much in the character of a genuine believer which the world cannot see, and cannot sympathize with. There is the rapture of faith, when in lively exercise. There is the ecstacy of devotion. There is a calm and settled serenity amid all the vicissitudes of life. There is the habit of having no confidence in the flesh, and of rejoic- ing in the Lord Jesus. There is a holding fast of our hope in the promises of the Gospel. There is a cherishing of the Spirit of adoption. There is the work of a believing fellowship with the Father and with the Son. There is a movement of affection towards the things w hich are above. There is a building up of ourselves on our most holy faith. There is a praying in the Holy Ghost. There is a watching for his influence with all perseverance. In a word, there is all which the Christian knows to be real, and which the world hates, and denounces as visionary, in the secret, but sublime and substantial processes of experimental religion. But, on the other hand, there is also much in the doings of an altogether Christian, of that palpable virtue which forces itself upon general observation ; and he is most grievously untrue to his Master's cause, if he do not, on this ground, so outrun the world, as to force from the men of it, an approving testimony. The eye of the world cannot enter within the spirit- oal recesses of his heart ; but let him ever re- 196 SERMON VIIL member that it is fastened, and that too, with keen and scrutinizing jealousy, on the path of his visible history. It will offer no homage to the mere sanctity of his complexion; nor, un- less there be shed over it, the expression of what is mild in domestic, or honourable in pub- lic virtue, will it ever look upon him in any other light, than as an object of the most un- mingled disgust. And therefore it is, that he must enter on the field of ostensible accomplish- ment, and there bear away the palm of superi- ority, and be the most eminent of his fellows in all those recognized virtues, that can bless or embelhsh the condition of society ; the most untainted in honour, and the most disinterested injustice, and the most alert in beneficence, and the most unwearied in all these graces, under every discouragement and every provocation. We have now only time to say, that we shall not regret the length of this discourse, or even the recurrence of some of its arguments, if any hearer amongst you, not in the faith, be led by it, to withdraw his confidence from the mere accomplishments of nature, — and if any behever amongst you be led by it, not to despise these accomplishments, but to put them on, and to animate them all with the spirit of religiousness, — if any hearer amongst you, beginning to perceive his own nothing- ness in the sight of God, be prompted to in- quire, Wherewithal shall I appear before him.'^ and not rest from the inquiry, till he flee from SERMON Vin. 197 his hiding-place, to that everlasting righteous- ness which the Saviour hath brought in ; and if any believer amongst you, rightly dividing the word of truth, shall act on the principle, that though nothing but the doctrine of Christ crucified, can avail him for acceptance with God, yet he is bound to adorn this doctrine in all things. And knowing that one may ac- quiesce in the whole of such a demonstration, without carrying it personally home, we leave off with the single remark, that every convic- tion not prosecuted, every movement of con- science not followed up, every ray of light or of truth wDt turned to individual application, will aggravate the reckoning of the great day, — and, in that proportion to the degree of ur- gency which has been brought to bear upon you, and been resisted, will be the weight and the justness of your final condemnation. SERMON IX. THE PRINCIPLE OF LOVE TO GOD JUDE 21. ' Keep 3 ourselves in the love of God.' ' It is not easy to give the definition of a term^ which is currently and immediately understood without one. But, should not this ready un- derstanding of the term supersede the defini- tion of it, what can we tell of love in the way of explanation, but by a substitution of terms^ not more simple and more intelligible than it- self.^ Can this affection of the soul be made clearer to you by words, than it is already clear to you by your own consciousness ? Are we to attempt the elucidation of a term, which, with- out any feeJ'as^ of darkness or of mystery, you make familiar :ise of every dny ? You say with the utmost promptitude, and you have just as ready an apprehension of the meaning of what you say, that I love this man, and bear a still higher regard to another, but have my chief and my best liking directed to a third. We SERMON rX. 199 will not attempt to go in search of a more lu- minous or expressive term, for this simple affec- tion, than the one that is commonly employed. But it is a different thing, to throw light upon the workings of this affection, — to point your attention to the objects on which it rests, and finds a complacent gratification, — and to assign the circumstances, which are either favourable or unfavourable to its excitement. All this may call forth an exercise of discrimination. But instead of dwelling any more on the signi- ficancy of the term love, which is the term of my text, let us forthwith take it unto use, and be confident that, in itself, it carries no ambi- guity along with it. The term love, indeed, admits of a real and intelligent application to inanimate objects. There is a beauty in sights, and a beauty in sounds, and I may bear a positive love to the mute and unconscious individuals in which this beauty hath taken up its residence. 1 may love a flower, or a murmuring stream, or a sunny bank, or a humble cottage peeping forth from its concealment, — or, in fine, a whole landscape may teem with such varied graces, that I may say of it, this is the scene I most love to be- hold, this is the prospect over which my eye and my imagination most fondly expatiate. The term love admits of an equally real, and equally intelligent application, to our fellow- men. They, too, are the frequent and familiar objects of this affection, and they often are so^ t 200 SERMON IX. because they possess certain accomplishments of person and of character, by which it is ex- cited. I love the man whose every glance speaks an effusive cordiality towards those who are around him. I love the man whose heart and whose hand are ever open to the re- presentations of distress. I love the man who possesses such a softness of nature, that the im- ploring look of a brother in want, or of a bro- ther in pain, disarms him of all his selfishness, and draws him out to some large and willing surrender of generosity. I love the man who carries on his aspect, not merely the expres- sion of worth, but of worth maintained in the exercise of all its graces, under every variety of temptation and discoaragement; who, in the midst of calumny, can act the warm and en- lightened philanthropist ; who, when beset with many provocations, can weather them all in calm and settled endurance; who can be kind even to the unthankful and the evil ; and who, if he possess the awful virtues of truth and of justice, only heightens our attachment the more, that he possesses goodness, and ten- derness, and benignity along with them. Now, we would have vou to advert to one capital distinction, betw een the former and the latter class of objects. The inanimate reflect no love upon us back again. They do not sin- gle out any one of their admirers, and, by an act of preference, either minister to his selfish appetite for esteem, or minister to his selfish SERMON IX. 201 appetite for enjoyment, by affording to him a larger share than to others, of their presence, and of all the delights which their presence inspires. They remain motionless in their places, without will and without sensibility; and the homage they receivt?, is from the dis- interested affection, which men bear to their loveliness. They are loved, and that purely, because they are lovely. There is no mixture of selfishness in the affection that is offered to them. They do not put on a sweeter smile to one man than to another ; but all the features of that beauty in which they are arrayed, stand inflexibly the same to every beholder ; and he, without any conscious mingling whatever of self-love, in the emotion with which he gazes at the charms of some external scenery, is ac- tuated by a love towards it, which rests and which terminates on. the objects that he is em- ployed in contemplating. But this is not always the case, when our fellow-men are the objects of this affection. I should love cordiality, and benevolence, and compassion for their own sakes ; but let your own experience tell, how far more sweetly and more intensely the love is felt, when this cor- diahty is turned, in one stream of kindliness, towards myself; when the eye of friendship has singled out me, and looks at me with a peculiar graciousness ; w hen the man of ien-^ derness has pointed his way to the abode of my suffering family, and there shed in secrecy 26 Wl SERMON IX over them his liberalities, and his tears ; when he has forgiven me the debt that I was unable to discharge ; and when, oppressed as I am, by the consciousness of having injured or reviled him, he has nobly forgotten or overlooked the whole provocation, and persists in a regard that knows no abatement, and in a well-doing that is never weary. There is an element, then, in the love I bear to a fellow-man, which does not exist in the love I bear to an inanimate object ; and which may serve, perhaps, to darken the character of the affection that I feel towards the former. We most readily concede it, that the love of another, on account of the virtues which adorn him, changes its moral character altogether, if it be a love to him, solely on account of the benefit which I derive from the exercise of these virtues. 1 should love compassion on its own account, as well as on the account that it is I who have been the object of it. I should love justice on its own account, as well as on the account that my grievances have been re- dressed by the dispensation of it. On looking at goodness, 1 should feel an affection resting on this object, and finding there its full and its terminating gratification; and that, though I had never stood in the way of any one of its beneficent operations. How is it, then, that the special direction of a moral virtue in another, towards the object of my personal benefit, operates in enhancing SERMON IX. 203 both the sensation which it imparts to my heart, and the estimate which I form of it ? What is the pecuUar quality communicated to my admiration of another's friendship, and an- other's goodness, by the circumstance of my- self, being the individual towards whom that friendship is cherished, and in favour of whom that goodness puts itself forth into active exer- tion? At the sight of a benevolent man, there arises in my bosom an instantaneous homage of regard and of reverence ;— but should that homage take a pointed direction towards my- self;— -should it realize its fruits on the comfort and security of my own person,— should it be employed in gladdening my home, and spread- ing enjoyment over my family, oppressed with want and pining in sickness, there is, you will allow, by these circumstances, a heightening of the love and the admiration that 1 formerly rendered to him. And, we should like to know what is the precise character of the addition that has thus been given to my regard for the virtue of benevolence. We should Uke to know, if it be altogether a pure and a praiseworthy ac- cession that has thus come upon the sentiment, with which I now look at my benefactor,— or, if, by contracting any taint of selfishness, it has lost the high rank that formerly belonged to it, as a disinterested affection, towards the goodness which beautifies and adorns his cha- racter. There is one way, however, in which this 204 SERMON IX, special direction of a moral virtue towards my particular interest, may increase my affection for it, and without changing the moral charac- ter of my affection. It gives me a nearer view of the virtue in question. It is true, that the virtue may just be as lovely when exercised in behalf of my neighbour, as when exercised in behalf of myself. But, in the former case, I am not an eye-witness to the display and the evo- lution of its loveliness. 1 am a limited being, who cannot take in so full and so distinct an impression of the character of what is distant, as of the character of what is immediately be- side me. It is true, that all the circumstances maybe reported. But you know very well, that a much livelier representation is obtained of any object, by the seeing of it, than by the hearing of it. To be told of kindness, does not bring this attribute of character so forcibly, or so clearly home to my observation, as to receive a visit from kindness, and to take it by the hand, and to see its benignant mien, and to hear its gentle and complacent voice, and to witness the solicitude of its inquiries, and to behold its tender and honest anxiety for my interest, and to share daily and weekly in the liberalities which it has bestowed upon me. When all this goes on around my own person, and within the limits of my own dwelling-place, it is very true that self is gratified, and that this circumstance may give rise to sensations, which are altoge- ther distinct from the love I bear to moral SERMON IX. 20^ Worth, or to moral excellence. But this does not hinder, that, along with these sensations, a disinterested love for the moral virtue of which I have been the object, may, at the same time, have its room, and its residence within my bo~ som. I may love goodness more than ever, on its own own account, since it has taken its specific way to my habitation, and that, just because I have obtained a nearer acquaint- ance with it. I may love it better, because I know it better. My affection for it may have become more intense, and more devoted than before, because its beauty is now more fully un- folded to the eye of my observation than be- fore. And thus, when we admit that the good- ness of which I am the object, originates with- in me certain feelings different in kind from that which is excited by goodness in gene- ral, yet it may heighten the degree of this lat- ter feeling also. It may kindle or augment the love I bear to moral virtue in itself; or, in other words, it may enhance my affection for worth, without any change whatever in the moral cha- racter of that affection. Now, before we proceed to consider those peculiar emotions which are excited within me, by being the individual, in whose favour certain virtues are exercised, and which emotions are, all of them, different in kind from the affection that I bear for these virtues, — let us further ob- serve, that the term love, when applied to a sentient being, considered as the object of it, 206 SERlMON IX. may denote an affection, different in the princi- ple of its excitement, from any that we have been yet considering. My love to another may lie in the liking I have for the moral quali- ties which belong to him ; and this, by way of distinctness, may be called the love of moral esteem or approbation. Or, my love to another, may consist in the desire I have for his happi- ness ; and this may be called the love of kind- ness. These two are often allied to each other in fact, but there is a real difference in their nature. The love of kindness which I bear to my infant child, may have to reference to its moral qualities whatever. This love finds its terminating gratification, in obtaining for the object of it, exemption from pain, or in minis- tering to its enjoyments. It is very true, that the sight of what is odious or revolting in the character of another, tends, in point of fact, to dissipate all the love of kindness I may have ever borne to him. But it does not always do so, and one instance of this proves a real distinction, in point of nature, between the love of kindness, and the love of moral estee^n. And the highest and most affecting instance which can be given of this distinction, is in the love where- with God hath loved the world; is in that kind- ness towards us, through Christ Jesus, which he hath made known to men in the Gospel; is in that longing regard to his fallen creatures, whereby he was not willing that any should perish, but rather that all should live. There was the love SERMON fX. 207 of kindness standing out, in marked and sepa- rate display, from the love of moral esteem ; for, alas ! in the degraded race of mankind, there was not one quality which could call forth such an affection, in the breast of the Godhead. It was, when we were hateful to him in character, that, in person and in inte- rest, we were the objects of his most unbound- ed tenderness. It was, when we were enemies by wicked works, that God looked on with pi- ty, and stretched forth, to his guilty children, the arms of offered reconciliation. It was, when we had wandered far, in the paths of worthlessness and alienation, that he devised a message of love, and sent his Son into our world, to seek and to save us. And this, by the way, may serve to illustrate the kind of love which we are required to bear to our enemies. We are required to lovje them, in the same way in which God loves his ene- mies. A conscientious man will feel oppressed by the difficulty of such a precept, if he try to put it into obedience, by loving those who have offended, with the same feeling of complacen- cy with which he loves those ^ who have be- friended him. But the truth is, that the love of moral esteem often enters, as a principal ingredient, into the love of complacency ; and we are not required, by our imitation of the Godhead, to entertain any such affection, for the depraved and the worthless. It is enough, that we cherish towards them i?i our hearts the 208 SERMON IX. love of kindness ; and this will be felt a far more practicable achievement, than to force up the love of complacency into a bosom, re- volted by the aspect of treachery, or disho- nesty, or unprincipled selfishness. There is no possible motive to excite the latter affec- tion. There may be a thousand to excite the former : and we have only to look to the un- happy man in all his prospects, and in all his relations; we have only to pity his delusions, and to view him as the hapless victim of a sad and ruinous infatuation ; we have only to carry our eye onwards to the agonies of that death, which will shortly lay hold of him, and to com- pute the horrors of that eternity, which if not recovered from the error of his way, he is about to enter ; we have only, in a word, to put forth an exercise of faith in certain near and im- pending realities, the evidence of which is al- together resistless, in order to summon up such motives, and such considerations, as may cause the compassion of our nature to predominate over the resentment of our nature ; and as will assure to a believer the victory over such ur- gencies of his constitution, as to the unrenewed heart, are utterly unconquerable. ' But, to resume our argument, let it be ob- served, that the kindness of God is one of the loveliest, and most estimable of the attributes, which belong to him. It is a bright feature in that assemblage of excellencies, which enter into the character of the Godhead; and, as* SERMON IX. 209 such, independently altogether of this kindness being exercised upon me, I should offer to it the homage of my moral approbation. But, should I be the special and the signalized object of his kindness, there is another sentiment to- ward God, beside the love of moral esteem, that ought to be formed within me by that cir- cumstance, and which, in the business of rea- soning, should be kept apart from it. There is the love of gratitude. These often go together, and may be felt simultaneously, towards the one being we are employed in contemplating. But they are just as distinct, each from the other, as is the love of moral esteem from the love of kindness. We trust that we have already con- vinced you, that God feels towards us, his infe- riors, the love of kindness, when he cannot, from the nature of the object, feel for us the slightest degree of the love of moral esteem. In the same manner, may we feel, we are not saying towards God, but towards an earthly benefactor, the love of gratitude, when, from the nature of the object we are employed in contemplating, there is much to impair within as the love of moral esteem, or to extinguish it altogether. Is it not most natural to say of the man, who has been personally benevolent to myself, and who has, at the same time, dis- .^raced himself by his vices, that, bad as he is, he has been at all times remarkably kind to me, and felt many a movement of friendship to- vvards my person, and done many a deed of im- 27 210 SERMON IX. portant service to my family, and that I, at least, owe him a gratitude for all this, — that 1, at least, should be longer than others, of dis- missing from my bosom the last remainder of cordiality towards him, — that, if infamy and poverty have followed, in the career of his wickedness, and he have become an outcast from the attentions of other men, it is not for me to spurn him instantly from my door, — or, in the face of my particular recollections, to look unpitying and unmoved, at the wretched- ness into which he has fallen. It is the more necessary, to distinguish the love of gratitude from the love of moral esteem, that each of these affections may be excited simultaneously within me, by one act or by one exhibition of himself, on the part of the Deity. Let me be made to understand, that God has passed by my transgression, and generously ad- mitted me into the privileges and the rewards of obedience, — I see in this, a tenderness, and a mercy, and a love, for his creatures, which, if blended at the same time with all that is high and honourable in the more august attributes of his nature, have the effect of presenting him to my mind, and of drawing out my heart in moral regard to him, as a most amiable and estima- ble object of contemplation. But, besides this, there is a peculiar love of gratitude, excited by the consideration that I am the object of this benignity, — that I am one of the creatures to whom he has directed this peculiar regard^ — SERMON IX. 211 that he has singled out me, and conceived a gra- cious purpose towards me, and in the execution of this purpose is lavishing upon my person, the blessings of a father's care, and afather's tender- ness. Both the love of moral esteem, and the love of gratitude, may thus be in contempora- neous operation within me; and it will be seen to accomplish a practical, as well as a metaphy- sical purpose, to keep the one apart from the other, in the view of the mind, when love to- wards God is the topic of speculation, which engages it. But, further, let it be understood, that the love of gratitude differs from the love of moral esteem, not merely in the cause which imme- diately originates it, but also in the object, in which it finds its rest and its gratification. It is the kindness of another being to myself, which originates wdthin me the love of gratitude towards him ; and it is the view of what is mo- rally estimable in this being, that originates within me all the love of moral esteem, that I entertain for him. There is a real distinction of cause between these two affections, and there is also between them a real distinction of object. The love of moral esteem finds its complacent gratification, in the act ol dwelling contempla- tively on that Being, by whom it is excited; just as a tasteful enthusiast inhales deligfitfrom the act of gazing, on the chq^rms of some external scenery. The pleasure he receiv^es, emanntes directly upon bis mind, from the forms of beauty 212 SERMON IX. and of loveliness, which are around him. And if, instead of a taste for the beauties of nature, there exists within him, a taste for the beauties of holiness, then will he love the Being, who presents to the eye of his contemplation the fullest assemblage of them, and his taste will find it& complacent gratification in dwelling up on him, whether as an object of thought, or a& an object of perception. " One thing have I de- sired^" says the Psalmist, " that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire ip bis temple." Now, the love of gratitude is distinct from this in it& object. It is excited by the love of kindness; and the feeling which is thus excited, is just a feeling of kindness back again. It i& kindness begetting kindness. The language of this affection is, " What sImB I ren- der unto the Lord for all his benefits ?" He has done what is pleasing and gratifying to me. What shall I do to please, and to gratify him ? The love of gratitude seeks for answers to thi^ question, and finds its delight in acting^ upon them, and whether the answer be, — this is the will of God even your sanctification, — or, with the sacrifices of liberality God is well pleased, — or, obedience to parents is well pleasing in his- sight, — these all point out so many lines of con- duct, to which the impulse of the love of gra* titude would carry us, and attest this to be the love of God,— that ye keep his command- ments. SERMON IX. 213 And, indeed, when the same Being com- bines, in his own person, that which ought to excite the love of moral esteem, with that which ought to excite the love of gratitude, — the two ingredients, enter with a mingled but harmonious concurrence, into the exercise of one compound affection. It is true, that the more appropriate offering of the former is the offering of praise, — just as when one looks to the beauties of nature, he breaks out into a rapturous acknowledgment of them ; and so it may be, when one looks to the venerable, and the lovely in the character of God. The more appropriate offering of the latter, is the of- fering of thanksgiving, or of such services as are fitted to please, and to gratify a benefactor. But still it may be observed, how each of these sim- ple affections tends to express itself, by the very act which more characteristically marks the workings of the other ; or, how the more appro- priate offering of the first of them, may be prompt- ed under the impulse, and movement of the se- cond of them, and conversely. For, if I love God because of his perfections, what principle can more powerfully or more directly lead to the imitation of them ? — which is the very ser- vice that he requires, and the very offering that he is most pleased with. And, if I love God because of his goodness to me, what is more fitted to prompt my every exertion, in the way of spreading the honours of his character and of his name amons; mv fellows, — and, for this w 214 SERMON IX. purpose, to magnify in their hearing the glories and the attributes of his nature ? It is thus that the voice of praise and the voice of gratitude may enter into one song of adoration; and that whilst the Psalmist, at one time, gives thanks to God at the remembrance of his holi- ness, he, at another, pours forth praise at the remembrance of his mercies. To have the love of gratitude towards God, it is essential that we know and believe his love of kindness towards us. To have the love of moral esteem towards him, it is essential that the loveliness of his character be in the eye of the mind ; or, in other words, that the mind keep itself in steady and believing contempla- tion of the excellencies which belong to him. The view that we have of God, is just as much in the order of precedency to the affection that we entertain for him, as any two successive steps can be, in any of the processes of our mental constitution. To obtain the introduc- tion of love into the heart, there must, as a preparatory circumstance, be the introduction of knowledge into the understanding ; or, as we can never be said to know what we do not believe — ere we have love, we must have faith; and, accordingly, in the passage from which our text is extracted, do we perceive the one pointed to, as the instrument for the produc- tion of the other. " Keep yourselves in the love of God, building yourselves up on your most holy faith." SERMON IX. 2in And here, it ought to be remarked, that a man may experience a mental process, and yet have no taste or no understanding for the ex- planation of it. The simple truths of the Gos- pel, may enter with acceptance into the mind of a peasant, and there work all the proper in- fluences on his heart and character, which the Bible ascribes to them : and yet he may be ut- terly incapable of tracing that series of inward movements,by which he is carried onwards from a belief in the truth, to all those moral and affec- tionate regards, which mark a genuine disciple of the truth. He may be the actual subject of these movements, though altogether unable to follow or to analyze them. This is not peculiar to the judgments, or the feelings of Christianity. In the matters of ordinary life, a man may judge sagaciously, and feel correctly while ardently; — and experience, in right and natural order, the play of his various faculties, without having it at all in his power, either to frame or to follow a true theory of his facul- ties. It is well, that the simple preaching of the Gospel has its right practical operation on men, who make no attempt whatever, to com- prehend the metaphysics of the operation. But, if ever metaphysics be employed to dark- en the freeness of the Gospel offer, or to de- throne faith from the supremacy which be- longs to it, or to forbid the approaches of those whom God has not forbidden ; then must it be met upon its own ground, and the real 216 SERMON IX. character of our beneficent religion be assert- ed, amid the attempts of those who have in any way obscured or injured it by their ilius- Orations, SERMON X. ORATITUDE, NOT A SORPID AFFECTION, 1 John iv. 19. ^' We love him, because he first loved us." Some theologians have exacted from an in- quirer, at the very outset of his conversion, that he should carry in his heart what they call the disinterested love of God. They have set him on the most painful efforts to acquire this affec- tion, — and that too, before he was in circum- stances in which it was* at all possible to enter- tain it. They have led him to view with sus- picion the love of gratitude, as having in it a taint of selfishness. They are for having him to love God, and that on the single ground that he is lovely, without any reference to his own comfort, or even to his own safety. Strange demand which they make on a sentient being, that even amidst the fears and the images of destruction, he should find room in his heart for the love of complacency ! and equally strange demand to make on a sinful being, that ere he admit such a sense of reconciliation into his bo- som, as will instantly call forth a grateful regard to him who has conferred it, he must view God with a disinterested affection ; that from the deep and helpless abyss of his depravity, he jTftust find, unaided, his ascending way to the 28 218 SERMON X. purest and the sublimest emotion of moral na- ture; that ere he is delivered from fear he must love, even though it be said of love, that it casteth out fear; and that ere he is placed on the vantage ground of the peace of the Gos- pel, he must reaHze on his character, one of the most exalted of its perfections. The effect of all this on many an anxious seeker after rest, has been most discouraging. With the stigma that has been affixed to the love of gratitude, they have been positively ap- prehensive of the inroads of this affection, and have studiously averted the eye of their con- templation from the objects which are fitted to inspire it. In other words, they have hesitated to entertain the free offers of salvation, and misinterpreted all the tokens of an embassy, which has proclaimed peace on earth and good will to men. They think that all which they can possibly gather, in the way of affection? from such a contemplation, is the love of gra- titude ; and that gratitude is selfishness ; and that selfishness is not a gracious affection ; and that ere they be surely and soundly converted, the love tliey bear to God must be of a total- ly disinterested character ; and thus through another medium than that of a free and gratu- itous dispensation of kindness, do they strive, by a misunderstood gospel, or without the gospel altogether, to reach a peace and a pre- paration which we fear, in their way of it, ie to sinners utterly unattainable. SERMON X. 219 In the progress of this discourse let us en- deavour, in the first place, to rescue the love of gratitude from the imputations which have been preferred against it, — and, secondly, to assign to the love of kindness manifested to the world in the gospel, and to the faith by which that love is made to arise in the heart, the place that the pre-eminence which belong to them. I. The proper object of the love of grati- tude, is the being who has exercised towards me the love of kindness : and this is more cor- rect than to say, that the proper object of this affection, is the being who has conferred bene- fits upon me. I can conceive another to load me with benefactions, and, at the same time, to evince that kindness towards me was not the principle which impelled him. It may be done reluctantly at the bidding of another, or it may be done to serve some interested purpose, or it may be done to parade his generosity before the eye of the public. If it be not done from a real principle of kindness to myself, I may take his gifts, and I may find enjoyment in the use of them; but I feel no gratitude towards the dispenser of them. Unless I see his kind- ness in them, I will not be grateful. It is true that, in point of fact, gratitude often springs from the rendering of a benefit ; but, lest we should confound things which are different, let it be well observed, that this is only when the benefit serves as the indication of a kind pur- pose, or of a kind affection, on the part of him 220 SERMON t. who hath granted it. And this may be proved^ not merely by showing, that there may be no gratitude where there is a benefit, but also by showings that there may be gratitude where there is no material benefit whatever. Just let the naked principle of kindness discover itself^ and though it have neither the power, nor the opportunity of coming forth with the dispensa- tion of any service, it is striking to observe, how upon the bare existence of this affection being known, it is met by a grateful feeling, on the part of him to whom it is directed; and what mighty augmentations may be given, in this way, to the stock of enjoyment, and that^ hj the mere reciprocation of kindness beget- ting kindness* For, to send the expression of this kindness into another's bosom, it is not al- ways necessary to do it on the vehicle of a po- sitive donation. It may be conveyed by a look of benevolence ; and thus it is, that by the mere feeling of cordiality, a tide of happiness may be made to circulate throughout all the individuals of an assembled company. Or it may be done by a very slight and passieg at- tention, and thus it is, that the cheap services of courteousness, may spread such a charm over the face of a neighbourhood. Or it may be done by the very poorest member of human society ; and thus it is, that the ready and sin- cere homage of attachment from such a man, may beam a truer felicity upon me, and call forth a livelier gratitude to him who has con- SERMON X. 221 ferred it, than some splendid act of patronage on the part of a superior. Or it may be done by a Christian visitor in some of the humblest of our city lanes, who, without one penny to bestow on the children of want, may spread among them the simple conviction of her good will, and call down upon her person the voice of thankfulness and of blessing from all their habitations. And thus it is, that by good will creating good will, a pure and gladdening influ- ence will at length go abroad over the face of our world, and mankind will be made to know the might and the mystery of that tie, which is to bind them together into one family, and they will rejoice in the power of that secret charm which so heightens and so multiplies the pleasure of all the members of it; and, when transported from earth to heaven, they will still feel, that while it is to the benefits which God hath conferred that they owe the posses- sion and all the privileges of existence ; it is to a sense of the love which prompted these be- nefits, that they will owe the ecstatic charm of their immortality. It is the beaming kindness of God upon them, that will put their souls into the liveliest transports of gratitude and joy; and it is the reciprocation of this kind- ness on the part of those, who, while they have fellowship with the Father, and with the Son, have fellowship also with one another, that will cause the joy of heaven to be full. The distinction which we are now adverting 222 SERMON X. to, is something more than a mere shadowy re- finement of speculation. It may be realized on the most trodden and ordinary path of human experience, and is, in fact, one of the most fa- mihar exhibitions of genuine and unsophisticat- ed nature, in those ranks of society where re- finement is unknown. Let one man go over any given district of the city, fully fraught with the materiel of benevolence ; let him be the agent of some munificent subscription, and with nothing in his heart but just such affec- tions, and such jealousies, and such thoughtful anxieties, about a right and equitable division, as belong to the general spirit of his office ; let him leave some substantial deposit with each of the families; and then compute, if he can, the quantity of gratitude which he carries away with him. It were a most unkind reflec- tion on the lower orders, and not more unkind than untrue, to deny that there will be the mingling of some gratitude, along with the clamour, and the envy, and the discontent, which are ever sure to follow in the train of such a ministration. It is not to discredit the poor, that we introduce our present observa- tion ; but to bring out, if possible, into broad and luminous exhibition, one of the finest sen- sibilities which adorns them. It is to let you know the high cast of character of which they are capable ; and how the glow of pleasure which arises in their bosoms, when the eye of simple affection beams upon their persons, oi' SERMON X. 223 upon their habitations, may not have one single taint of sordidness to debase it. And to prove this, just let another man go over the same dis- trict, and in the train of the former visitation ; conceive him unbacked by any public institu- tion, to have nothing in his hand that might not be absorbed by the needs of a single fami- ly, but, that utterly destitute, as he is, of the materieU he has a heart charged and overflow- ing with the whole morale of benevolence. Just let him go forth among the people, without one other recommendation than an honest and un- dissembled good will to them; and let this good will manifest its existence, in any one of the thousand ways, by which it may be autheur ticated ; and whether it be by the cordiahty of his manners, or by his sympathy with their griefs, or by the nameless attentions and offices of civility, or by the higher aim of that kind- ness which points to the welfare of their im- mortality, and evinces its reality, by its repay and unwearied services among the young, or the sick, or the dying; just let them be satis- fied of the one fact, that he is their friend, and that all their joys and all their sorrows are his own; he may be struggling with hardships and necessities, as the poorest of them all ; but poor as they are, they know what is in^M^ heart, and well do they know how to value it ; and from the voice of welcome, which meets him in the very humblest of tlieir tenements ; and from the smile of that heartfelt enjoyment. 224 StRMON X. which his presence is ever sure to awaken, an3 from the influence of graciousness which he carries along with him into every house, and by which he hghts up an honest emotion of thankfulness in the bosom of every family, may we gather the existence of a power, which worth alone, and without the accompaniment of wealth, can bestow ; a power to sweeten and subdue, and tranquillize, which no money can purchase, which no patronage can create It will be readily acknowledged by all, that the most precious object in the management of a town, is to establish the reign of happiness and contentment among those who live in it. And it is interesting to mark the operations of those, who, without adverting to the principle that I now insist upon, think, that all is to be achieved, by the beggarly elements which en- ter into the arithmetic of ordinary business; who rear their goodly scheme upon the basis of sums and computations ; and think that by an overwhelming discharge of the materiel of be- nevolence, they will reach an accompHshment which the morale of benevolence alone is equal to. We are sure that it is not to mortify our men of grave, and official, and calculating ex- perience, that we tell them, how, with all their strengtljiand all their sagacity, they have only given their money for that which is not meat* and their labour for that which satisfieth not. it is to illustrate a principle of our common nature, so obvious, that to be recognized, it SERMOlN X. 225 needs only to be spoken of. And it were well, if in so doing their thoughts could be led to the instrumentality of this prineiple,as the only way in which they can redeem the failures of thfcir by-gone experience ; if they could be convinc- ed, that the agents of a zealous and affectionate Christianity can alone do what all the inlluence of municipal weight and municipal wisdom cannot do ; if they could be taught what the ministrations are, by which a pure and a re- sponding gratitude, may be made to circulate throughout all our dwelling-places; if, in a word, while they profess to serve the poor, they could be led to respect the poor, to do homage to that fineness of moral temperament which belongs to them, and which hitherto seems to have escaped, altogether, the eye of civil or political superintendence; and they may rest assured, that let them give as much in the shape of munificence as they will, if they add not the love to the liberahty of the Gospel, they will never soften one feature of unkindli- ness, or chase away one exasperated feehng, from the hearts of a neglected population. But, beside the degree of purity in which this principle may exist among the most desti- tute of our species, it is also of importance to remark the degree^ of strength, in which it ac- tually exists among the most depraved of our species. And, on this subject, do we think that the venerable Howard has bequeathed to us a most striking and valuable observation. 226 SERMON X. You know the history of this man's enterprises ^ how his doings, and his observations, were among the veriest outcasts of humanity, — how he descended into prison houses, and there made himself famihar with all that could most revolt or terrify, in the exhibition of our fallen nature; how, for this purpose, he made the tour of Europe ; but instead of walking in the footsteps of other travellers, he toiled his painful and persevering way through these receptacles of worthlessness ; — and, sound experimentalist as he was, did he treasure up the phenomena of our nature, throughout all the stages of mis- fortune, or depravity. We may well conceive the scenes of moral desolation that would often meet his eye ; and that, as he looked to the hard, and dauntless, and defying aspect of cri- minality before him, he would sicken in despair of ever finding one remnant of a purer and het- ter principle, by w^hich -he might lay hold of these unhappy men, and convert them into the willing and the consenting agents of their own amelioration. And jei such a principle he found, and found it, as he tells us, after ye^rs of intercourse, as the fruit of his greater experi- ence, and his longer observation ; and gives, as the result of it, that convicts, and that, among the most desperate of them all, are not ungov- ernable, and that there is a way of managing even them, and that the way is, without relax- ing, in one iota, from the steadiness of a calm and resolute discipline, to treat them with tenderness, and to show them that you have SERMON X. 227 humanity ; and thus a principle, of itself so beautiful, that to expatiate upon it, gives in the eyes of some, an air of fantastic declamation to our argument, is actually deponed to, by an aged and most sagacious observer. It is the very principle of our text ; and it would appear that it keeps a lingering hold of our nature, even in the last and lowest degree of human wickedness; and that, when abandoned by every other principle, this may still be detect- ed,— that even among the most hackneyed and most hardened of malefactors there is still about them a softer part which will give way to the demonstrations of tenderness : that this one ingredient of a better character is still found to su^rvive the dissipation of all the others,— that, fallen as a brother may be, from the moralities which at one time adorned him, the manifested good-will of his fellow man still carries a charm and an influence along with it ; and that, there- fore, there lies in this, an operation which, as no poverty can vitiate, so no depravity can extinguish*. i • u • Now, this is the very principle which is brought into action, in the deahngs of God with a whole world of m defactors. It looks, as if he confided the whole cause of our recov^ ery, to the influence of a demonstration of good- will. It is truly interesting to mark, what, m the devisings of his unsearchable wisdom, is * The operation of the same r-^>P^,\^;!' fj-itir^fin strikingly exemplified by Mrs. Fry. and her coadjutor. , in the prison at Newgate. / 228 SERMON X. the character which he has made to stand most visibly out, in the great scheme and history oi our redemption : and swrely if there be one fea- ture of prominency more visible than another, it is the love of kindness. There appears to be no other possible way, by which a respond- ing affection can be deposited in the heart of man. Certain it is, that the law of love can- not be carried to its ascendency over us by storm. Authority cahnot command it. Strength cannot implant it. Terror cannot charm it into existence. The threatenings of vengeance may stifle, or they may repel, but they never can woo this delicate principle of our nature, into a warm and confiding attach- ment. The human heart remains shut, in all its receptacles, against the force of these vari- ous applications ; and God, who knew what was in man, seems to have known, that in his dark and guilty bosom, there was but one solitary hold that he had over him ; and that to reach it, he must just put on a look of graciousness, and tell us that he has no pleasure in our death, and manifest towards us the longings of a be- reaved parent, and even humble himself to a suppliant in the cause of our return, and send a Gospel of peace into the world, and bid his messengers to bear throughout all its habita- tions, the tidings of his good-will to the chil- dren of men. This is the topic of his most anxious and repeated demonstration. This manifested good-will of God to his creatures, is the band of love, and the cord of a man, by SERMON X. 229 ivhich he draws them. It is true, that from the inaccessible throne of his glory, we see no di- rect emanation of his tenderness upon us, from the face of the King who is invisible. But, as if to make up for this, he sent his Son into the world, and declared him to be God manifest in the flesh, and let us see, in his tears, and in his sympathies, and in all the recorded traits of his kindness, and gentleness, and love, what a God we have to deal with. It is true, that even in love to us, he did not let down one attribute of truth or of majesty which belonged to him. But, in love to us, he hath laid upon his own Son the burden of their vindication ; — and now, that every obstacle is done away ; now, that the barrier which lay across the path of acceptance, is levelled by the power of him who travailed in the greatness of his strength for us ; now, that the blood of atonement has been shed, and that the justice of God has been magnified, and that our iniquities have been placed on the great Sacrifice, and so borne away that there is no more mention of them ; now, that with his dio-nitv entire, and his holiness untainted, the door of heaven may be opened, and smners be called upon to enter in, — is the voice of a friend- ly and beseeching God, lifted up without re- serve, in the hearing of us all ; — his love of kind- ness is published abroad among men ; — and tlii^^ one mighty principle of attraction is brought to bear upon a nature, that might have remained sullen and unmoved under every other appli- cation. 230 SERMON X, And, as God, in the measure of restoring a de- generate world unto himself, hath set in opera- tion the very same principle as that which we have attempted to illustrate, — so the operation hath produced the very same result that we have ascribed to it. As soon as his love of kindness is believed, so sooii does the love of gratitude spring up in the heart of the behever. As soon as man gives up his fear and his suspicion of God, and discerns him to be his friend, so soon does he render him the homage of a willing and affectionate loyalty There is not a man who can say, I have known and beheved the love which God hath to us, who cannot say also, f have loved God because he first loved me. There has not, we will venture to affirm, been a single example in the whole history of the church, of a man Avho had a real faith in the overtures of peace and of tenderness which are proposed by the Gospel, and who did not, at thi6 same time, exemplify this attribute of the Chris- tain faith, that it worketh by love. It is thus that the faith which recognizes God, as God in Christ reconciling the world unto himself, lies at the turning point of conversion. In this way, and in this way alone, is there an inlet of communication open to the heart of man, for that principle of love to God, which gives all its power and all its character to the new obe- dience of the gospel. So soon as a man really knows the truth, and no man can be said to know what he does not believe, will this truth enthrone a new affection in his bosom, which SERMON X. 231 will set him free from the dominion of all such affections as are earthly and rehellious. The whole style and spirit of his obedience are transformed. The man now walks with the vigour, and the confidence, and the enlarge- ment, of one who is set at liberty. It looks a mysterious revolution in the general eye of the world. But the fact is, that from the moment a sinner closes with the overtures of the gospel, from that moment a new era is established in the history of his mind altogether. As soon as he sees what he never saw before, so soon does he feel what he never felt before. Without the faith of the gospel he may serve God in the spirit of bondage ; he may be driven, by the terrors of his law, into many outward and re- luctant conformities; he may even, without the influence of these terrors, maintain a thou- sand decencies of taste, and custom, and es- tablished observation. But he is still an utter stranger to the first and the greatest command- ment. There may be the homage of many a visible movement with the body, while, in the whole bent and disposition of the soul there is nothing but aversion, and distance, and enmity. Even the word of the gospel may be address- ed, Sabbath after Sabbath, and that too, to hearers who offer no positive resistance to it, —but coming to them only in word, they re- main as motionless and unimpressed as ever, and with an utter dormancy in their hearts, as to any responding movement of gratitude. 1 he heart, in fact, remains unapproachable in eve- 232 SERMOiN X. ry other way, but by the gospel coming to it, not in word only, but in power, and in the Ho- ly Ghost, and in much assurance. Then is it, that the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts; and that the gospel approves itself to be his power, and his wisdom, to the sanctifi- cation of all who believe in it. Now, the theologians to whom we allude, have set up obstacles in the way of such a pro= cess. They hold a language about the disin- terested love of God, and demand this at the very outset of a man's conversion, in such a way, as may retard his entrance upon a life of faith,— as may have prolonged the darkness of many an inquirer, and have kept him in a state of despair, whom a right understanding of the gospel would have relieved of all his doubts, and all his perplexities. They seem to look on the love of gratitude, as having in it a taint of selfishness. They say that to love a being, because he is my benefactor, is little better than to love the benefit which he has confer- red upon me ; and that this, instead of any evi- dence of a state of grace, is the mere effect of an appetite which belongs essentially and uni- versally to the animal state of nature. They appear to have missed the distinction, between the love that is felt towards the benefit itself, and the love of gratitude that is felt towards the author of it ; though certainly there are Jiere two objects of affection altogether dis- tinct from, each other. My liking for the gift is a different phase of mind from my liking for SERiMON X. 233 the giver. In the one exercise, I am looking to a different object, and my thoughts have a dif- ferent employment, from what they have in the other. Had I an affection for the gift, without an affection for the giver, then migtit I evince an unmixed selfishness of character. But I may have both ; and my affection for the giver may be purely in obedience to that law of reci- procity, whereby if another likes me, I am dispose ed by that circumstance, and by that alone, to like him back again. The gift may serve merely the purpose of an indication. It is the medium through which I perceive the love that another bears me. But it is possible for me to perceive this through another medium, and, in this case, the rising gratitude of my bosom might look a purer and more disinterested emotion. But the truth is, that it retains the very same cha- racter, though a gift has been the occasion of its excitement, — and, therefore, it ought not to have been so assimilated to the principle of sel- fishness. It ought not to have been so discour- aged, and made the object of suspicion, at that moment of its evolution, when the returning sin- ner looks by faith to the truths and the pro- mises of the gospel, and sees in them the tender- ness of an inviting God. It ought not to have been so stigmatized, as a mere portion of his un- renewed nature; for, in truth, it will heighten and grow upon him, with every step in the ad- vancement of his moral renovation. Ji will be one of the gracefuUest of his accomplishment? 30 234 SfcRMON X. in this world ; and so far from being extinguish- ed in the next, along with the baser and more selfish affections of our constitution, it will pour an animating spirit into many a song of ecstacy, to him who loved us, and washed us from our sins hi his own blood. The law of love begetting love, will obtain in eternity. Like the law of re- ciprocal attraction in the material world, it will cement the immutable and everlasting order of that moral system, which is to emerge with the new heavens and the new earth, wherein dwell- eth righteousness. The love which emanates from the throne of God, upon his surrounding family, will call back a voice of blessing, and thanksgiving, and glory, from all the members of it. And the love which his children bear to each other, will) in like manner, be reflected and multiplied. All that is wrong in selfishness will be there unknown. But gratitude, so far from being counted an unseemly companion forparadise ; will be one chief ingredient in the fulness of its joy; one of the purest and most exquisite of those pleasures, which are for evermore. The first consideration then, upon which we would elevate gratitude to the rank of a virtue, is, that in its object, it is altogether distinct from selfishness. It is enough, indeed, to dis- solve the imagination of any kindred character between selfishness and gratitude, that the man without selfishness, seems to the eye of a be- holder, as standing on a lofty eminence of vir- tue : Th^ man without gratitude, is held, by SERMON X, 23^ all, to be a monster of deformity. Give me a man who seizes with ravenous appropriation all that I have to bestow, — and who hoards it, or feeds upon it, or, in any way rejoices over it, without one grateful movement of his heart to- wards me, — and you lay before me a character, not merely unlike, but diametrically opposite, to the character of him who obtains the very same gift, and perhaps, derives from the use of it, an equal, or a greater degree of enjoyment, to the sensitive part of his nature, — but who, in addition to all this, has thought, and affec- tion, and the higher principles of his nature, excited by the consideration of the giver ; and looks to the manifested love that appears in this act of generosity ; and is touched with love back again ; and, under the influence of this responding affection, conceives the kindest wishes, and pours out the warmest prayers, for the interest of his benefactor, and shows him all the symptoms of friendship, and suf rounds him with all its services. The second consideration, upon which we would elevate gratitude to the rank of a pure virtue, has already been glanced at. Were it not a virtue, it would have no place in heaven. Did it only appertain to the unrenewed part of our nature, it would find no admittance among the saints in paradise. But one of the songs of the redeemed, is a song of gratitude. And, thirdly, by looking more closely to this affection, both init^ origin and in it« exercise?. 236 SERMON X. we shall perceive in it, more ctearly, all the characteristics of virtue. Let it be remarked then, that an affection may simply exist, and yet be no evidence of any virtue, or of any moral worth in the holder of it. I may look on a beautiful prospect, and be drawn out to an involuntary sentiment of ad- miration. Or, I may look on my infant child, and, without one effort of volition, feel a paren- tal tenderness towards it. Or, I may be pre- sent at a scene of distress, and without choosing or willing it to be so, I may be moved to the softest compassion. And, in this way, I may have a character made up of many affections, some of which are tasteful, some of which are- most amiable in themselves, and some of which are most useful to society; and yet, none of which may possess the smallest portion of the essential character of virtue. They may be brought in- to exercise, without any working of a sense of duty whatever. One of those we have specifi- ed — the instinctive affection of parents for their young, is exemplified in all its strength, and in all its tenderness, by the inferior ani- mals. And, therefore, if we want to know what that is which constitutes the character of virtue, or moral worth, in a human being, we must look to something else, than to the mere existence of certain affections, however valuable they may prove to others, or what- ever gracefulness they may shed over the com- plexion of him who possesses them. Now, it would be raising a collateral into a SERMON X. 237 jonain topic, were we to enter upon a full ex- planation of the matter that has now been sug- gested. And we shall, therefore, briefly re- mark, that to give the character of virtue to any grace of the inner man, the will, acting under a sense of duty, must, in some way or other, have been concerned, in the establishment, or in the continuance of it ;' and that to give the same character of virtue to a deed of the outer man, the will must also be concerned. A deed is onfy virtuous in as far as it is voluntary; and it is only in proportion to the share which the will has in the performance of it, and the will impelling us to do, what we are persuaded ought to be done, that there can be awarded, to the deed in question, any character of moral estimation. This will explain what the circumstances are, under which the gratitude of a human being may at one time be an instinct, and at another time a virtue. I may enter the house of an in- dividual who is an utter stranger to the habit of acting under a sense of duty ; who is just as much the creature of mere impulse, as th^ ani- mals beneath him ; and who, therefore, though some of these impulses are more characteristic of his condition as a man, and most subservient to the good of his fellows, may be considered as possessing no virtue whatever, in the strict and proper sense of the term. But he has the property of being affected by external causes. And I, by some ministration of friendship, may flash upon his mind such an overpowering con^ 2.38 SERMON X, viction oHhe good-will that I bear him, as to affect him with a sense of gratitude even unto tears. The moral obhgation of gratitude may not be present to his mind at all. But the emo- tion of gratitude comes into his heart unbid- den, and finds its vent in acknowledgments, and blessings, on the person of his benefactor. We would say, of such a person, that he pos- sesses a happier original constitution than ano- ther, who, in the same circumstances, would not be so powerfully or so tenderly affected. Ancl yet he may have hitherto evinced nothing more than the workings o-f a mere instinct, which springs spontaneously within him, and gives its own impulse to his words and his performan- ces, without a sense of duty having any share in the matter, or without the will prompting / the individual by any such consideration, as. let me do this thing because 1 ought to do it. Let us now conceive the moral sense to be admitted to its share of influence over this prp- ceeding. Let it be consulted on the questio n of what ought to be felt, and what ought to be done, by one being, when another evinces the love of kindness towards him. A mere in-< stinct may, in point of fact, draw out a return of love and of service back again. But it is the province of the moral sense to pronounce on the point of obligation, and we speak its universal suggestion, when we say, that the love of gratitude ought to be felt, and the ser- vices of gratitude ought to be rendered. Now, to make this decision of the moral SERMON X. 239 sense practically effectual, and, indeed, to make the moral sense have any thing to do with this question at all, the feeling of gratitude must, in f?ome way or other, be dependent either for its existence, or its growth, or its continuance, up- on the will ; and the same will must also have a command over the services of gratitude. The moral sense, in fact, never interposes with any dictate, or with any declaration about the feelings, or the conduct of man, unless in so far as the will of man has an influence, and a pow- er of regulation over them. It never makes the rate of the circulation of the blood a question of duty, because this is altogether an involun- tary movement. And it never would have of- fered any authoritative intimation, about the way in which gratitude ought to be felt, or ought to be expressed, unless the will had had some kind of presiding sovereignty over both the degree an4 the workings of this affection. The first way, then, in which the will may have to do with the love of gratitude, is by the putting forth of a desire for the possession of it. It may long to realize this moral accomplish- ment. It may hunger and thirst after this branch of righteousness. Even though it has not any such power under its command, as would enable it to fulfil such a volition, the vo- lition itself has, upon it, the stamp and the cha- racter of virtue. The man who habitually wills to have in his heart a love of gratitude towards God, is a man at least of holy desires, if not of holy attainments. And, when we consider that 240 SERMON X. a way has actually been established, in which the desire may be followed up by the attain- ment, — when we read of the promise given to those who seek after God, — when we learn the assurance that he will grant the heart's desire of those who will stir themselves up to lay hold of him, — when we think that prayer is the na« tural expression of desire for an object which man cannot reach, but w hich God is both able and willing to confer upon him,— then do we see how the very existence of the love of gra- titude may have had its pure and holy com- mencement, in such a habitude of the will as has the essential character of virtue engraven upon it. "-Keep yourselves," says the Apostle, " in the love of God, by praying in the Holy Ghost.'- But, again, there are certain doings of the mind, over which the will has a control, and' by which the affection of gratitude may either be brought into being, or be sustained in lively and persevering exercise. At the bidding of the will, I can think of one topic, rather than of an- other. I can transfer my mind to any given ob- ject of contemplation. I can keep that object steadily in view, and make an effort to do so, when placed in such circumstances as might lead me to distraction or forgetfulness. And it is in this way that moral praise, or moral responsibility, may be attached to the love of gratitude. Ere the heart can be moved by this affection to another, there must be in the mind a certain appropriate object, that is fitted to call it, and to keep it, in existence,— and that object SERMON X. 241 is the love of kindness which the other bears me. I may endeavour, and I may succeed in the endeavour, to hold this love of kindness in daily and perpetual remembrance. If the will have to do with the exercises of thought andme- mory, then the will may be responsible for the gratitude that would spring in my bosom, did I only think of the love of God, and that would continue with me in the shape of an habitual affection, did I only keep that love in habitual remembrance. It is thus that the forgetfulness of God is chargeable with criminality, — and it will appear a righteous thing in the day of judgment, when they, who are thus forgetful of him, shall be turned into hell. It is this which arms, with such a moral and condem- natory force, the expostulation he holds with Israel,, "that Israel doth not know, that my people do not consider." It is because we like not to retain God in our knowledge, that our minds become reprobate: — and, on the other hand, it is by a continuous effort of my will, towards the thought of him, that I forget not his benefits. It is by the strenuousness of a voluntary act, that I connect the idea of an un- s^een benefactor, with all the blessings of my present lot, and all the anticipations of my futurity. It is by a combat with the most ur- gent propensities of nature, that I am ever looking beyond this surrounding materialism, and setting God and his love before me all the day long. There is no virtue, it is allowed, 31 242 SERMON X^ without voliiotary exertion; but thh is the verj character which runs throughout the whole work and exercise of faith. To keep himself in the love of God is a habit, with the mainte- nance of which the will of man has most essen- tially to do, because it i&at his will that he keeps himself in the thought of God's love towards him. To bid away from me such intrusions of sense, and of time, as would shut God out of my recollections ; to keep alive the impression of him in the midst of bustle, and company, and worldly avocations; to recall the thought of him and of his kindness, under crosses, and vexations, and annoyances; to be still, and know that he is God, even when beset with temptations to impatience and discontent; ne- ver to lose sight of him, as merciful and gra- cious; and above all, never to let go my hold of that great Propitiation, by which, in every time of trouble, I have the privilege of access with confidence to my reconciled Father; these are all so many acts of faith, bat they ate just such acts as the will bears a share, and a sovereignty, in the performance of. And, as they are the very acts which go to aliment and to sustain the Jove of gratitude within me, it may be seen, how ' an affection which, in the first instance, may spring involuntarily, and be therefore regarded as a mere instinct of nature, or as bearing up- on- it a complexion of selfishness, may, in ano- ther view, have upon it a complexion of deep- est sacredness, and be rendered unto God in the shape of a duteous and devoted offering SERMON X. 243 if oai a voluntary agent, and be, in fact, the la- borious result of a most difficult, and persever- ing, and pains-taking habit of obedience. And if this be true of the mere sense of gra- titude, it is still more obviously true of the ser- vices of gratitude. "What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits?" is the genuine language of this affection. It seeks to make a gratifying return of service, and that, under the feeling that it ought to do so. Or, in other words, do we behold that it is the w ill of man, prompted by a sense of duty, Avhich leads him on to the obedience of gratitude, and that the whole of this obedience is pervaded by the es- sential character of virtue. This is tlie love of God, that ye keep his commandments. This is the most gratifying return unto him, that ye do those thin'gs which are pleasing in his sight. And thus it is, that the love of gratitude may be vindicated in its character of moral worth, from its first commencement in the heart to its ultimate effect on the walk and conversation. It is originally distinct from selfishness in its ob* ject; and it derives a virtuousness at its very outset, from the aspirations of a soul b'ent on the acquirement of it, because bent on being what it ought to be ; and it is sustained, both in life and in exercise, by such habits of thought . as are of voluntary cultivation; and it nobly sustains an aspect of moral righteousness on- wards to the final result of its operation on the character, by setting him who is under its pow- er, on a career of obedience to God, and m- iU SERMON X. troducing him to an arduous coiitest of princi^ pie, with all the influences of sense and of the world. If,* to render an affection virtuous, the will acting under a sense of duty, should be con- cerned either in producing or in perpetuating it; then the love of moral esteem coming into the heart as an involuntrry sensation, may, in certain circumstances, have as little of the cha- racter of virtue as the love of gratitude. In this respect, both these affections are upon a footing with each other ; and the first ought not to have been exalted at the expense of the se- cond. That either be upheld within us in our present state, there must, in fact, be the put- ting forth of the same voluntary control over the thoughts and contemplations of the under- standing ; the same actue exercise of faith ; the same laborious resistance to all those ur- gencies of sense which would expel from the mind the idea of an unseen and spiritual ob- ject; the same remembrance of God sustained by effort, and prayer, and meditation. II. . We now feel ourselves in a condition to speak of the Gospel, in its free and gratuitous character ; to propose its blessings as a gift ,' to hold out the pardon, and the strength, and all the other privileges which it proclaims to believers, as so many articles for their imme- diate acceptance ; to make it known to men that they are not to delay their compliance with the overtures of mercy, till the disinterest- ed love of God arises in their hearts ; but that SERMON X. 2i5 they have a warrant for entering even now, in- to instant reconciliation with God. Nor are we to dread the approach of any moral contami* nation, though when, after their eyes are open- ed to the marvellous spectacle of a pleading, and offering, and beseeching God, holding out eternal life unto the guilty, through Ihe propi- tiation which his own Son hath made for them, they should, from that moment, open their whole soul, to the influences, of gratitude, and love the God who thus hath first loved them. We conclude then with remarking, that the whole of this argument gives us another view of the importance of faith. We do not say all for it that we ought, when we say, that by faith we are justified in the sight of God. By faith also our hearts are purified. It is in fact the pri- mary and the presiding principle of regenera- tion. It brings the heart into contact with that influence, by which the love of gratitude is awakened. The love of God to us, if it is not believed, will exert no more power over our affections, than if it were a nonentity. They are the preachers of faith, then, who alone deal out to their hearers, the elementary and pervading spirit of the Christian morality. And the men who have been stigmatized as the enemies of good works, are the very men, who are most sedulously employed in depositing within you, that good seed which has its fruit imto holiness. We are far from asserting, that the agency of grace is not concerned, in every step of that process, by which a sinner is con- 246 SERMON X. ducted from the outset of his conversion, to the state of being perfect, and complete in the whole will of God. But there is a harmony between the processes of grace and of nature; and in the same manner, as in human society, the actual conviction of a neighbour's good- will to me, takes the precedency in point of order of any returning movement of gratitude on my part, so, in the great concerns of our fellow- ship with God, my belief that he loves me, is an event prior and preparatory to the event of my loving him. So that the primary obstacle to the love of God is not the want of human gratitude, but the want' of human faith. The reason why man is not excited to the love of God by the revelation of God's love to him, is just because he does not believe that revela- tion. This is the barrier which lies between the guilty, and their offended Lawgiver. It ia not the ingratitude of man, but the incredulity of man, that needs, in the first instance, to be overcome. It is the sullenness, and the hard- ness, and the obstinacy of unbelief which stands as a gate of iron, between him and his enlargement. Could the kindness of God, in Christ Jesus, be seen by him, the softening of a kindness back again, would be felt by him. And let us cease to wonder, then, at the preach- ers of the gospel, when they lay upon belief all the stress of a fundamental operation ; — when they lavish so much of their strength on the es- tablishment of a principle, which is not only initial, but indispensable ; when they try so SERMON X. -247 strenuously to charm that into existence, with- out which all the elements of a spiritual obedi- ence are in a state of dormancy or of death ; — when they labour at the only practicable way, by which the heart of a sinner can be touched, and attracted towards God ; — when they try so repeatedly, to hold and to fasten him, by that link which God himself hath put into their hands — and bring the mighty principle to bear upon their hearers, which any one of us may exemplify upon the poorest, and by which both Howard and Fry have tried with suc- cess, to soften and to reclaim the most worth- less of mankind. This also suggests a practical direction to Christians, for keeping themselves in the love of God. They must keep themselves in the habit, and in the exercise of faith. They must hold fast that conviction in their minds, the presence of which is indispensable to the keep- ing of that affection in their hearts. This is one of the methods recommended by the apos- tle Jude, when he tells his disciples to build themselves up on their most holy faith. This direction to you is both intelliglible and prac» ticable. Keep in view the truths which you have learned. Cherish that belief of'them which you q^lready possess. Recall them to your thoughts, and, in general, they will not come alone, but they will come accompanied by their own power, and their own evidence. You may as well think of maintaining a stead- fast attachment to vour frir^nd. after vou have 248 SERMON X. expunged from your memory all the demonstra- tions of kindness he ever bestowed upon you, as to think of keeping your heart in the love of God, after the thoughts and contemplations of the gospel have fled from it. It is just by holding these fast, and by building yourself up on their firm certainty, that you preserve this affection. Any man, versant in the matters of experimental religion, knows well what it is, when a blight and a barrenness come over the mind, and when, under the power of such a vi- sitation, it loses all sensibility towards God, There is, at that time, a hiding of his counte- nance, and you lose your hold of the manifest- ation of that love, wherewith God loved the world, even when he sent his only begotten Son into it, that we might live through him. You will recover a right frame, when you re- cover your hold of this consideration. If you want * to recair the strayed affection to your heart-r-recall to your mind the departed ob- ject of contemplation. If you want to rein- state the'principle of love in your bosom — rein- state faith, and it will w ork by love. It is got at through the medium of believing, and trust- ing ; — Nor do we know a more summary, and at the same time, a more likly direction for li- ving a life of holy and heavenly affection, than that you should live a life of faith. SERMON XL THE AFFECTION OF MORAL ESTEEM TOWARDS GOD, Psalm xxvii. 4. « One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after 5 that 1 may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in his temple." In our last discourse we adverted to the effect of a certain theological speculation about love, in darkening the freeness of the gospel, and in- tercepting the direct influence of its overtures and its calls on the mind of an enquirer. Ere we conceive the love of gratitude towards another, we must see in him the love of kmd- ness towards us; and thus, by those who have failed to distinguish between a love of the bene- fit, and a love of the benefactor, has the virtue of gratitude been resolved into the love of our- selves. And they have thought that there must surely be a purer affection than this, to mark the outset of the great transition from sin unto righteousness; and the one they have specified 32 250 SERMON XI. is the disinterested love of God. They have given to this last affection a place so early, as to distract the attention of an enquirer from that which is primary. The invitation of " come and buy w^ithout money, and vt^ithout price," is not heard by the sinner along with the exaction of loving God for himself, — of loving him, on account of his excellencies, — of loving him, be- cause he is lovely. Let us, therefore, try to as- certain whether even this love of moral esteem is not subordinate to the faith of the gospel; and whether it follows, that because this affec- tion forms so indispensable a part of godliness, faith should, on that account, be deposed from the place of antecedency which belongs to it. And here let it be most readily and most abundantly conceded, that we are not perfect £lnd complete, in the whole of God's will, till the love of moral esteem be in us, as well as the love of gratitude, — till that principle, of which, by nature, we are utterly destitute, be made to arise in our hearts, and to have there a tho- rough establishment, and operation, — till we love God, not merely on account of his love to our persons, but on account of the glory, and the residing excellence, which meet the eye of the spiritual beholder, upon his own character. We are. not preparing for heaven, — we shall be utterly incapable of sharing in the noblest of its enjoyments, — we shall not feel ourselves sur- rounded by an element of congeniality in para- SERMON XI. 251 dise,— there will be no happiness for us, even in the neighbourhood of the throne of God, and with the moral lustre of the Godhead made visible to our eyes, if we are strangers to the emotion of loving God for himself, — if addi- tional altogether, to the consideration that God is looking with complacency upon me, I do not feel touched and attracted by the beauties of his character, when I look with the eye of contem- plation towards him. I am without the most essential of all moral accomplishments in myself^ if I am without the esteem of moral accomplish- ments in another ; and if my heart be of such a constitution that nothing in the character of God can draw my admiration, or my regard, to him — then, though admitted within the portals of the city which hath foundations, and remov- ed from the torments of hell, 1 am utterly unfit for the joys and the exercises of heaven. I may spend an eternity of exemption from pain, but without one rapture of positive felicity to bright- en it. Heaven, in fact, would be a wilderness to my heart ; and, in the midst of its acclaim- ing throng would I droop, and be in heaviness under a sense of perpetual dissolution. And let this convince us of the mighty tran- sition, that must be described by the men of this world, ere they are meet for the other world of the spirits of just men made perfect. It is not speaking of this transition, in terms too great 2j2 sermon XL and too lofty, to say, that they must be bom again, and made new creatures, and called out of darkness into a light that is marvellous. The tntth is, that out of the pale of vital Christianity, there is not to be found among all the varieties of taste, and appetite, and sentimental admira- tion, any love for God as he is, — any relish for the holiness of his character, — any echoing tes- timony, in the bosom of alienated man, to what is graceful, or to what is venerable in the char- acter of the Deity. He may be feelingly alive to the beauties of what is seen, and what is sen- sible. The scenery of external nature may charm him. The sublimities of a surrounding materialism may kindle and dilate him with images of grandeur. Even the moralities of a fellow-creature may engage him; and these, with the works of genius, may fascinate him into an idolatrous veneration of human power, or of human virtue. But while he thus luxuriates and delights himself with the forms of derived ex- cellence, there is no sensibility in his heart to- wards God. He rather prefers to keep by the things that are made, and, surrounded by them,